“How’d you find us?” asked a human male. He was an older man still trying to look in charge, a familiar smile fading from his face. On his head was some sort of metal device, duplicated on the heads of the other seven men, each of a different species, such as Dallian, Corridian, and Vogis.
I noticed a slight burning smell. There was a blaster wound in my shoulder that I apparently had received earlier and hadn’t even noticed. I continued to ignore it and looked around the room. Monitors were up on the walls showing data from various planets and various sectors of space. On one monitor was a diagram of the large, tentacled Fathom ship, with reports on the status of each of its parts. “It took some guesswork to figure out the nature of the Messengers. They only had intergalactic communications in small bursts, and they spoke with full authority like they were in constant contact with you. Because they were you. Minds copied to other bodies. The communication was just every so often sharing memories back and forth, I guess. Quite a technology.”
“One mind, ruling throughout the galaxy,” the human explained, as the others watched me warily but stayed still. “A way to bring everyone together.” He was going to try to sell me on this. Good luck.
On one monitor were images of unconscious females lying on tables — Messengers being prepared. “I guess you have to use real people,” I said, lazily holding my guns to my sides. “Functionally kill them for this — wipe out their minds. Kind of macabre.”
“The sentient mind is very complicated,” the human told me. “We can’t make vessels artificially. It’s a shame, I admit.”
“Just a few more casualties to add to the mix.” I looked at the others in the room. “And I’m guessing the mind copy only works between members of the same species. So you have this nice multi-species group to all rule together. That’s neat. Anyway, I was talking about how I found you. We noticed there was a large data transfer at the death of a Messenger — I guess something built in to make sure that what had happened was transferred before the body was too destroyed. That seemed to be the best time to figure out the direction of the transfer. Now, you guys aren’t dumb. You always had the data go off in various directions — when tracing the direction of a single intergalactic signal is already inexact. But if I got one of you” — I pointed my gun at the human male — “to chase me around to various specific points in the galaxy to ... um, what did you say? Crush the cockroach ... then I could kill you in each place, causing another transfer. And while each one of those transfers sends the data in many directions, you start to find some intersections when comparing enough of them from different locations.”
I could see in the human’s expression not just fear but also anger. “It was all a ruse from the beginning. There was never a weapons cache called Mountain Fall.”
I met the eyes of everyone left in the room. No one moved. “There was. But it was cleared out and the contents destroyed decades ago. Probably a smart idea, but I’m sure we can make more planet-destroying weapons if we really want to. Anyway, the space station served one good purpose — we needed to cause a transfer from a very specific location to get the last data point to pinpoint you. So once you got on the space station, it jumped to where we needed to be, and ...” I made a punching motion. “Whack. Started another transfer. And now I know where the Fathom are.” I looked again at the people in the room. All of them tried to look confident and in charge, but the fear permeated them. “And it’s rather anticlimactic. The Fathom as some unknown, advanced alien race was a pretty fun idea, but you all look like the usual arrogant conspirators trying to run everything. I mean, A+ for creativity, though.” I motioned to the readout reporting on the tentacled monstrosity. “That giant planet-destroying ship and hiding behind your Messengers so people could imagine you as something more impressive than you are.”
“Do you see what we’ve built here?” the human asked, forcing his crooked smirk, but it was ironically artificial now. “This is peace for the entire universe. A group of the best from all species” — he motioned to the others around him — “uniting everyone into one community. It’s been rough getting here, but the fight is almost over, and then what follows will be the greatest peace the universe has ever known. Now think of how you can fit into this —”
“I’m going to interrupt you right there,” I said, putting my pistols back into the holsters under my coat. “Let me tell you something about myself. I don’t care about money. I don’t care about power. Never have. Never will. There is one thing I kind of like, though. It’s seeing people who think they’re powerful and untouchable have everything collapse around them. I just find that amusing — sort of the big joke of the universe. No matter how much you work on making yourself great and powerful, you have an ignominious end.” I pointed to the device I’d put at one end of the room. “That’s a camera. It’s transmitting all of this, and that video is being broadcast wide to everyone. Wave and say, ‘Hi.’” I waved at the camera and said into it, “Hi, everybody. I think I made you all a promise. I said I would find and kill the Fathom within a week. Well, it’s been what? Six days? It’s hard to keep track when you’re hopping between planets. But still, I’ve found them. That leaves one thing left to do.”
I turned to the people there and smiled. Now the fear was on the surface.
The human was turning pale. “You don’t have to —”
“Yes. Plead,” I said, fixing my clothes for the camera. “You murdered so many and spread so much fear in the galaxy, it’s going to be hard for people to recover from that. But when they all see the ‘Fathom’ — the people they’re all terrified of — die in the most brutal and pathetic way possible — screaming and pleading for mercy — hopefully that will help with the healing.” I spotted something on a table nearby and picked it up. “Oh. A pen.”
CHAPTER 34
The pen clinked on the tile floor as I finally tossed it away. Then I pushed a button to turn the camera off, smearing it in blood. I headed over to a console at the back of the room and initiated the final end of the Fathom. The Messengers had direct links to their brains to sync their memories with the people here, and now that was going to be overwritten with nothing. All the Messengers would collapse, comatose, and in one fell swoop the Fathom’s empire would end.
I walked out of the mansion in time to see Alliance forces arriving to clean up, but there was little left to do. The true nature of the Fathom was exposed, and the whole universe got to watch them die. The criminal groups the Fathom had empowered as their enforcers were still out there, but they no longer had someone to unite and organize them and would fall quickly to the Alliance, slinking back to the shadows where they used to operate. The planets and their militaries that had already declared allegiance to the Fathom had no ruler again and would either go back to the Alliance or at least stop taking part in conquering the universe. All that was left was to publicly destroy the dreaded Fathom ship that had terrorized so many planets. We now knew its location, as it sat idly orbiting a random gas giant. This was it. The conflict was won.
I got back to my ship and rocketed out of the atmosphere, jumping to a random spot in deep space as soon as I was in the black. Floating in the peace and safety of a spot in the universe where no one could find me, it felt like time for a nap.
“That was pretty brutal how you handled the Fathom,” Dip said. “And everyone saw it. As much as everyone must hate those people, it still must have made you look monstrous. I wonder how everyone will react.”
“I saved everyone from a murderous tyranny,” I answered. “They don’t need to like me.”
“I wonder if you purposely go to extremes to push people away on your own terms,” Dip suggested, “before they get repelled by something you didn’t intend.”
I sighed. “What?”
“Like what you’ve done with Diane,” Dip continued. “You tortured that man at the bank in front of her. I think you were still trying to get her to leave you. And you may have succeeded.”
I tried to ge
t comfortable in my chair. It was a small craft, and there really wasn’t any place to lie down. “Leave me alone, Dip. I’m not trying to do anything other than save the universe, which I just did.”
“And how does that make you feel?” Dip asked.
I thought about it. “Accomplished. It wasn’t easy.”
“Do you feel good about it? Do you like that you helped people?”
I shrugged. “I don’t care. But doesn’t that make it more selfless? I helped people, and I didn’t even get a nice feeling from it.”
“So now what?” Dip asked.
I thought about that. “It would be a nice end to my story if I just disappeared now. I publicly brought down the Fathom and was never seen again. I would be a legend.”
“Except that wouldn’t be an end to your story, because you still need to deal with you. And Anthony is still out there pulling strings, controlling the Galactic Alliance.”
Did I really want to tangle with my father when it could be avoided? “That guy is not my responsibility. If he’s not mass-murdering anyone, maybe I’ll just leave it alone.”
“And Diane?”
“The nicest thing I could do would be to abandon her,” I said. “Not even give her the choice of pulling herself down to try to help me.”
“She’s injured and with the Alliance,” Dip reminded me. “Which is under Anthony’s influence. You trust that situation?”
I groaned. I really did want to be left alone now, but I decided to follow up. “Call the Vanguard.”
“Initiating,” Dip answered. He added, “There’s a video feed.”
On a screen appeared an image of a meeting room. Redden sat there along with a number of other prominent-looking people of other species. Very prominent. Many I recognized, and I never follow politics. These had to be the other main leaders of the Alliance. They all stared at me expectantly.
“You’re also on video,” Dip told me. I remembered I was currently covered in dried blood.
“Hey,” I said. “Just following up. How is Diane?” I saw confusion at the name. “Melanie Fincher, I mean.”
“She’s fine,” Redden said sharply. “She’s recovering in the medical bay. We’re told you have news for us on Mountain Fall. Is it secure?”
Now I was the one to look confused. “Who cares about that?”
Redden looked frustrated. “What do you mean, who cares about that?”
“It was a ruse to get to the Fathom. It doesn’t even matter now.”
Redden raised an eyebrow. “To get to the Fathom? What are you talking about?”
“Didn’t you see the video?” I asked, but the answer to that seemed obvious.
“What video?”
“I murdered all the Fathom,” I said. “With a pen.” I motioned to the blood on me. “All their Messengers should be finished, too.”
The confusion in the room only grew. “What are you talking about?”
I looked again at the prominent people of the Alliance sitting together. “Why are you guys meeting right now?”
“We were told to because of the news you would bring,” Redden answered.
“By whom?”
“Our ...” Redden hesitated and then said with disgust, “Our mutual friend.”
I was starting to get a sinking feeling. The door in the meeting room opened, and in walked Sylvia. She was flexing the arm that had been injured, but she must already have gone through a regenerator, as she had no sling. She healed quicker than I would have thought.
Redden turned to her. “Rico is saying something about a video.”
“Didn’t Diane receive and transmit the feed?” I asked.
“She was in no condition to handle the equipment. Doctors were working on her leg,” Sylvia explained, “so I took that over for her.”
This was getting well beyond frustrating. “Did you get the video?”
She nodded. “I did.”
Now Redden stared at her. “Video of ... Rico killing the Fathom?”
“Yes, I have it,” Sylvia said matter-of-factly.
Now the whole room glared at her. “You didn’t share this?” Redden growled, as flabbergasted as I was, but maybe now Redden shared my growing feeling of dread.
“It was supposed to be publicly transmitted,” I stated.
“Yes, but I stopped that,” Sylvia said, almost looking embarrassed. “There’s been a change of plans.”
“By whom?” Redden demanded.
Sylvia grimaced. “I think we all know by whom.”
An alarm sounded on the ship. Red lights started flashing in the meeting room. “You all don’t deserve this,” Sylvia said, her eyes looking almost sad, “but ...” She smiled a bit, but there was nothing warm to the smile. It was more the sort of smile that sucked all hope out of the room. “Well, nothing I’m going to say will matter.” In a blink of an eye she pulled out two pistols and opened fire on everyone in the room, killing the dozen people there before they could react. All were soon still except Redden, who tried to move as he clutched his chest. A shot through his head dropped him to the table.
Sylvia looked into the camera directly at me, that terrible smile still on her face and her eyes cold, like I’ve seen many killers’ eyes before. I got the feeling I was really seeing her for the first time now. A number of questions raced through my mind, but all of them caught in my throat.
She spoke first. “I can’t believe I didn’t seem familiar to you.”
“Have we met before?” I asked, studying her face. There was something to it that I felt like I recognized, but I couldn’t place it.
“No. Not before all this,” she answered, the alarm continuing behind her, though she paid it no attention. “Yet it really feels like I should have seemed familiar, R-One-C-Zero.”
I shuddered. I hate it when my body does things like that without my permission, but I couldn’t help this one. “The Ichor program. They tried it again.”
Sylvia nodded. There were now cries and the sounds of gunfire in the background. “Yes, about a decade after they made you. You were considered the only partial success from their first attempt to create the perfect leader — at least you were the only one that didn’t have to be put down like an animal. So they took what they had from you, modified it a bit to make the subject less of a mental case — you know, someone who would actually care to have power and be in charge — and ...” She motioned to herself. “I’m basically your clone, though. Well, one chromosome is pretty different, obviously.”
“Anthony is full of secrets, isn’t he?” I said. I felt intense rage, but it was pointless, so I pushed it down.
“He is. And usually his plans are well thought out in advance. But this ...” She pointed to the dead bodies in front of her as I heard more gunfire behind her. “This was sort of a last-minute change. Once we found out the nature of the Fathom, a new option emerged. The Fathom really had almost won and held rule over all the key planets, so instead of going through the messy business of toppling them and rebuilding ...”
“He’s going to take them over,” I said. Another involuntary action: my hand clenching into a fist.
“Right. Father thought he could be happy building his perfect government” — she motioned to the dead bodies in front of her — “and ruling from the shadows, but now he has the option of controlling things directly. It was Father’s people who landed on the Fathom’s planet after you. They stopped the signal you sent to erase the Messengers, and now Father and some of his associates are going to copy their own minds into them. A nice seamless transition of power. And thanks to this attack on the Vanguard I just orchestrated that’s going to kill everyone here, the Old Alliance is pretty much done with. And this all opens up some nice options for me, too. Father was grooming me to be a future leader, but that seemed a while off, realistically, because most people aren’t going follow a twenty-something girl. But now I can just pretend to be one of those Messengers, and everyone will recognize my authority.”
“Tha
t’s great. I’m sure that’ll work out for you.” More gunshots and screaming in the background. I think Sylvia could tell my attention was being drawn to it.
Her smiled faded. “You’re worried about Diane, aren’t you? Knowing you, you just jumped to deep space, so by the time you can jump again, it will be far too late. Now, I don’t care about your sort-of girlfriend, but Father has this idea that if she were out of the way, you might come to your senses. I think you’ll get even crazier, though. I guess one way or another, we’ll be seeing you around.”
I thought of pleading. I thought of making threats. All of it seemed pointless or redundant. “Do you think this is going to end well for you?”
“I believe I’ve said it a number of times, but I’m not afraid of you.” She smiled again. “Later, brother.” She left the room, leaving me staring at the dead bodies that had been the Galactic Alliance and hearing the sounds of violence and death outside the room. And all I could do was watch as I waited for the jump engine to recharge.
I was almost too shocked to put my thoughts together, though Dip did have something to say. “What a bitch.”
CHAPTER 35
“Jump engine charged,” Dip informed me.
“Go.”
There was a lot to think about while I waited, and yet I didn’t think much at all. There was no point to it. Nothing to solve that might help me. So I sat nearly catatonic until it was time for useless action.
The jump through space left me staring at the wreck of the Vanguard, fire venting out of holes in its hull as it drifted dead in space. The video feed I had of the conference room had cut off just before the jump, but from the sounds in the background, the attack was just about finished. It ended with explosions, the ship being bombarded from the outside and charges set off from within. If I was looking for vengeance, I had most likely missed my window. Now there was only one thing left.
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