Fall of Icarus

by Jon Messenger

  Yen’s eyes fell back to the pedestal, covered with electronic wires as though wrapped in a cocoon. A disturbing series of images flashed in quick procession through Yen’s mind. Flayed skin and exposed organs quickly overlapped with disgorged eyeballs and animals with missing limbs. Yen jerked his eyes back to Dr. Birand, but the Uligart’s expression revealed nothing of the troubling thoughts flowing through his mind. Walking calmly across the stage, the doctor picked up a glass cylinder and carried it to the pedestal. Setting it down, he left his hand on top of the object as he addressed the audience.

  “What we developed during the past few years will mark a change in the way the Alliance will travel through space. But for now, until it can be produced and implemented throughout the Alliance, it has been more locally installed for your use. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you warp technology!”

  Yen narrowed his eyes as he watched the nervous man. Warp technology was a myth, something that had been speculated amongst the scientific elite for generations. The concept of moving at instantaneous travel between two points was a fairy tale, as far as Yen was concerned. Even the scientific community was unconvinced that using such technology wouldn’t destabilize the region in which it was used, resulting in a black hole rather than passable portal. It was obvious that others shared Yen’s mentality. There hadn’t been the gasp of surprise that the doctor had obviously been expecting. The skepticism he now faced obviously made him even more nervous as Yen could see large droplets of sweat forming on his ridged brow.

  Eager to move the presentation forward and see what proof he brought, Yen spoke up. “How does it work, doctor?”

  Dr. Birand turned quickly to the new voice. He held up two fingers, which he drew together as he spoke. “Ah, well, it’s a little complicated. The basic principle is that we found a way to fold space, so that point A and point B, which are normally millions of miles apart, are touching one another. The physics behind it are simple, so long as you understand…”

  The doctor’s mind had gone blank as the air around Yen wavered faintly. He tried his best to contain the shimmering, so as not to give himself away. He pushed the doctor forward, reveling in the twisting of a weak-willed mind. The doctor had no mental defenses against Yen’s intrusion, so Yen began dropping psychic suggestions. The technical aspects of the technology bored Yen. If he were to be impressed, Yen demanded a demonstration. It was that thought that he psychically implanted in the doctor’s mind.

  “You know what?” Dr. Birand said slowly. “I’m sure the technical aspects of this are boring. I think this would just be easier if I demonstrated it for you.”

  Moving to the rear table, Birand picked up a handheld console and began typing feverishly. Around the pedestal, the wires began to glow as electricity coursed through them, powering an unseen engine within the center of the cocoon of wiring. The noise built until it filled the room and drowned out the muttering of the still skeptical audience members. From the side of the pedestal, a small two-prong fork emerged from the wires. Between its metal prongs, red electricity arced wildly, rolling from the base of the fork to its tips before sputtering out into the air above. Yen could feel the hairs on his neck stand on end as the entire room seemed charged both with tension and with an unknown energy. He leaned forward, mocking the moves of Adam and Penchant beside him. The entire room seemed to be leaning forward in anticipation, suddenly sharing the doctor’s enthusiasm.

  Don’t screw up, not this time. The alien thought leapt to the forefront of the doctor’s mind, stated over and over in a confident mantra that belied the doctor’s seemingly innocuous personality. Something about the project scared the man to death and Yen was suddenly very worried about the outcome of this experiment.

  Before Yen had time to probe further, a crack split the air. A shockwave fell over the crowd, throwing them back into their seats. Wind whipped Yen’s hair into his face and, as he brushed it aside, his eyes fell on the center of the stage. Hovering above the split fork, a red whirlpool had formed. Its tapered end disappeared only a few inches beyond the event horizon and pointed toward the empty table across the stage. Just over the rushing roar of air being pulled into the wormhole, Yen could make out the doctor’s gleeful laughter.

  Stepping forward, the doctor stood behind the pedestal, just a few feet away from the angry, red wormhole. It flickered as though alive and aware of the scientist’s presence. Yen could see the air pulling at the doctor’s laboratory coat, drawing it closer to the event horizon. The doctor didn’t seem to notice as he reached out and nudged the glass cylinder toward the glowing red disk, hovering in the air. As the cylinder drew near, Yen could see the forces pulling it into the wormhole. It teetered momentarily, as though unsure whether or not to enter, before the suction of the event horizon pulled the cylinder inward.

  From Yen’s point of view, he couldn’t see the object as it entered the wormhole, nor as it was stretched into the finite funnel. He strained to see anything in the air that might betray the destruction of the object or its obliteration in the heart of the wormhole, but he could see nothing. A commotion drew Yen’s attention away from the hovering wormhole. Adam pointed across Yen’s body, toward the previously empty table on the far side of the stage. Following his gaze, Yen saw the completely intact cylinder resting unassumingly on the table, as though it had been there all along.

  A hush fell over the crowd as they watched Dr. Birand reach over and throw a switch, effectively shutting off the power to the wormhole. The red circle shimmered unstably before dissipating into the air. Yen looked back and forth from the cylinder to the cocoon of wiring around the pedestal.

  “And this technology,” Yen said, sitting upright in his chair. “It will safely get us past the satellite grid around Earth? We’ll be able to warp a Cruiser right past their satellites and into their atmosphere?”

  “Not quite,” Birand stammered. “The technology hasn’t been perfected for moving so great a mass as a Cruiser. However, while repairs were being made on the Revolution, many of your Cair and Duun ships were outfitted with the new warp engines. You’ll be able to fly the smaller transports safely past the Terran defenses.”

  Yen frowned, not convinced. He kept remembering the distorted images that had flashed through the doctor’s mind just before activating the warp engine. Yen was sure that he and the doctor had differing definitions of the word “safely”.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “Why are you doing this to me?” Keryn bemoaned. “This isn’t fair!”

  “This isn’t about equality and fairness,” the elder Wyndgaart of the High Council said, his voice coming from the speakers within the furnished crew compartment of the transport ship. “This is about you finding Cardax and locating out the information we seek. The Oterian is a threat that must be eliminated before he can do any more harm.”

  Keryn crossed her arms and sulked, leaning back heavily against the upholstered chair. “You’ve just told me that we’re going to attack Earth, one of the greatest assaults that will ever be recorded in history. But instead of me leading my Squadron, you’re asking me to give that up to pursue some Oterian smuggler? I don’t give a damn about this Cardax person or what he knows. I care about my team and I want to stay in command. I want to lead my Squadron during the assault!”

  “This isn’t about what you want, Commander Riddell,” the Oterian Councilmember interceded. “You have repeatedly reiterated that you are genuinely concerned about your pilots and members of your Squadron. You act as though your concern for the Fleet is your top priority.”

  “That is my priority,” Keryn replied curtly.

  “You watched the Vindicator be destroyed, did you not?” the Avalon Councilmember interrupted, her musical voice soothing Keryn’s raw nerves. “The Terran Fleet used rockets filled with the same Deplitoxide that Cardax sold them. It ruined the engines and left them helpless to the Terran attack. Thousands of Alliance crew, pilots, and soldiers died in that attack. Cardax will not stop, and neither will
the Empire. If we do not find this smuggler, thousands more will die from his betrayal.”

  Keryn ground her teeth together. She understood the concept of betrayal. It was the same emotion she felt burning inside her. There had never been a time when Keryn had not strove to be the best. Now, she was watching the culmination of all her hard work disappearing as she was stripped of her command in order to lead a different mission. Looking at the console’s monitor, she stared into the eyes of the wizened Councilmembers, sitting around the semi-circle table. Their stern visages let her know that she truly did not have an option of whether or not to accept her new mission. Against her better judgment, Keryn knew that defying the will of the High Council simply wasn’t a choice she could make.

  Sighing, Keryn responded. “Explain the mission to me again.”

  “Interrogations of the surviving Terrans revealed the startling information,” the Lithid Councilmember answered in a gravelly voice. “Nearly a year ago, the Oterian smuggler named Cardax had a fairly insignificant organization, mainly moving equipment, supplies, and weapons around the Demilitarized Zone. His operation was supplying armaments to dissidents living around or on the contested planets. Though he ran a fairly small organization, his group grew in popularity almost overnight after he began advertising a new chemical weapon. The weapon, the same Deplitoxide that was used against us, brought him too far into the spotlight for him to continue working in the shadows.”

  “Once we were aware of his operation,” the elder Pilgrim continued, “we had no choice but to send a team after him. If half of what he claimed was true, then the Deplitoxide was too dangerous to remain on the open market. Unfortunately, Cardax discovered our plans before we had a chance to apprehend him. He fled, hiding among his clientele and remaining off our radar. We continued to pursue him, but to no avail.”

  Keryn furrowed her brow in confusion. “If that’s the case, then how did the Terran Empire wind up with the Deplitoxide?”

  “Cardax became careless,” the Uligart responded. “In his overzealousness to elude capture by Alliance forces, he was driven too far into the Demilitarized Zone. A Terran patrol came upon his ship and captured him. For the next few months, Cardax was tortured by the Terrans while the small samples of Deplitoxide were examined by a Terran scientist named Doctor Solomon. In the end, the Empire realized the limitless potential of the chemical and demanded more from Cardax. In a moment of cowardice, Cardax agreed to become the supplier for the Terran Empire.”

  “The Terrans have made Cardax both very wealthy and very dangerous,” the Wyndgaart said. “He is openly supplying the Empire with Deplitoxide now, though neither the Empire nor the Alliance knows his source for the unusual chemical. We would require you to discover the source by any means necessary.”

  “What is this Deplitoxide?” Keryn asked, feeling the weight of helplessness settling over her.

  “We were able to analyze some of the chemical that was retrieved from the captured Terran Destroyer, though there was too little to do any in depth research,” the Lithid explained. “It’s an organic compound that absorbs large amounts of heat. The individual cell membranes allow heat to be trapped within its nucleus and, as a result, created a thick, black byproduct. The internal heat also causes cellular mitosis, resulting in an exponentially expanding number of the organic cells.”

  Keryn remembered the engines on the Vindicator sputtering and dying. “So fire a rocket full of this Deplitoxide into a plasma engine, and these little buggers won’t quit multiplying until they’ve absorbed all the fuel cells?”

  “A crude but effective description,” the Avalon replied.

  Clenching her fists, Keryn looked away from the monitor. She felt split, her anger focused on two separate targets. On one hand, she hated being used. The High Council knew her skills would be invaluable against the Earth defenses. But instead of leading her Squadron, she’d be relegated to a lesser mission. She felt as though, inadvertently, she had done something wrong; that she had somehow wronged the High Council and this was her punishment. Cardax, however, infuriated Keryn. Not only was he a traitor to his own kind, to all of the Alliance, he was also directly responsible for the destruction of the Vindicator. The buckling hull and the screams of the dying that had echoed across her radio channel had haunted Keryn ever since. If there was a way to bring retribution for all their deaths, Keryn wanted to be the harbinger of his death.

  “I have more questions,” she stated flatly.

  “We have answers,” the Pilgrim stated.

  “Where do I find Cardax?”

  The Pilgrim smiled, his face cracking into a web of wrinkles. “So you’ve accepted our mission?”

  Keryn frowned. “I don’t see that I have much choice in the matter.”

  “There’s always a choice,” the Oterian explained. “You just wouldn’t like the alternative. Cardax has already established a neutral meeting location in the Demilitarized Zone. It was from this planet that he made the delivery to his Terran agents. The small, desert planet is called Pteraxis. Go there, and bring back the information.”

  “And Cardax?” Keryn asked.

  “He is of little consequence once you have the information,” the Uligart said coldly.

  Keryn smiled softly at the news, though it did little to warm her feeling of being punished. “When do I get my team?”

  “They are being assigned to you as we speak,” said the Avalon. “They will be joining you on the Revolution tomorrow. For the majority of your trip, you will remain on board the Revolution as you train your team. Once you are ready, you will take the Cair Ilmun and depart the Cruiser. Your ship has been outfitted with extra weaponry and the interior has been modified for extended living conditions.” The Avalon unfurled her wings and leaned back in her chair. “If there is nothing else…”

  “I have one more question,” Keryn interrupted, staring defiantly at the screen. “Who takes over my Squadron?”

  The Councilmembers turned to one another inquisitively. Keryn realized with a sudden heartache that a decision on her Squadron was of miniscule importance to the Council, regardless of how important it was to Keryn.

  “You know the Squadron better than anyone,” the Wyndgaart answered. “Therefore, it only makes sense that you get to decide who takes over your Squadron now. We trust in your decision.”

  But you don’t trust me enough to lead the assault on Earth, Keryn thought sourly. Without the formal dismissal from the High Council, Keryn reached up and turned off the console. She didn’t want to face any more of their questions, nor did she want to ask any more of her own. Whatever happened from this point on, Keryn was on her own.

  Her mind full of chaotic thoughts, she exited the private transport and stood in the now empty causeway leading into the Farimas Space Station. Thoughts of her few nights within the station warmed Keryn’s heart and left her with a longing for more. Instead of entering the city, however, she turned the opposite way and entered the elevator. Alone on the spacious lift, Keryn stared out the window as they exited the confines of the station and shot upward toward the orbiting ring and the dozens of awaiting Cruisers. The entire Fleet was docked above her, save the few ships still remaining in star systems throughout Alliance space, guarding key planets. The Alliance had invested everything they had to bringing this war to a swift and violent end. And, as her comrades in arms fought for their lives, Keryn would be wandering some arid, backwater planet, searching for Oterian filth among a planet of garbage. Her hatred renewed, she stormed off the lift as soon as it stopped, barely acknowledging the two guards posted outside the entryway to the Revolution.

  There were a lot of decisions to be made, Keryn realized, and many tasks to be accomplished over the next few weeks. Aside from meeting her new team, she would have to do research to learn anything she could about Pteraxis. The last thing she wanted was to lead her team blindly onto an unknown planet. Thought of her brother Eza flashed through her mind. Had his leaders felt the same way before they were le
d to the slaughter? Or had they done their research and everyone died anyway? More importantly, she knew that she had to pick someone to be her replacement. It had to be someone she trusted explicitly; otherwise she wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving her Squadron in their hands. In her mind, there was truly only one person she thought capable of the job.

  So lost was she in her thoughts that she ran directly into Yen before realizing he was there. His broad smile distracted Keryn from her thoughts, but simultaneously pained her deeply. Confident in their mutual affection, Yen was oblivious to the fact that their time together had been cut painfully short. After a moment of staring at one another, Keryn noticed that there was a worry behind Yen’s eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” Yen said, suddenly distracted. “Did you hear? We’re going to attack…”

  “Earth,” she interrupted. “Yes, I had heard.”

  “You have an uncanny knack for knowing everything before I do, and you’re not even the psychic one in this relationship.”

  Keryn laughed softly. “Call it women’s intuition.”

  “I call it unnerving,” Yen replied with a smile. “Where have you been? I looked for you during the briefing, but I never saw you come in.”

  “That’s because I never did. I had… another obligation to take care of.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Keryn shook her head. “Maybe later. Right now, all I want to do is go back to your place and curl up in your arms. If I don’t, I think I might scream.”

  Yen stepped aside and motioned for Keryn to lead. Because they were in uniform and supposed to act like professionals, they didn’t hold hands while they walked. In truth, Keryn wasn’t sure if she would have, even if given the opportunity. Right now she felt strangely alone, even when next to someone with whom she felt so comfortable. That loneliness extended outward like an aura, pushing away anyone trying to get close. There was a tension throughout her body that she yearned to release, and as they entered Yen’s quarters, she was pretty sure she knew what she needed to from her whirling thoughts. As the door closed softly behind them, she turned and grabbed the front of his uniform, pulling his face down to hers. She lost herself in his passionate kisses. Her eyes closed, she didn’t notice the small blue tendril extend from Yen’s groping hands. As it brushed against her arm, chills of pleasure ran up and down her spine. She pulled away suddenly and placed a hand on his chest.