Children of Titan Series: Books 1-4: (A Space Opera Thriller Box Set)

by Rhett C. Bruno

  “And a part of me is grateful for everything you’ve told me, but the rest of me—”

  “Would rather live in that moment when all that mattered was kissing a girl,” Rin said. “I know. You can hate it now all you like, Kale, but once you realize what it’s like to stand for something, to truly make a difference, you’ll never look back.”

  “I don’t know...”

  “I do. I see him in you so clearly. When the time comes, you’ll want more than just to speak for us. It’s why you proposed this plan, and why I was so eager to accept. You’ll want a gun in your hand, leading the charge in the name of Titan, just like he dreamed of doing.” She stared longingly down at the barrel of her rifle. “It’s who we are. We see a chance at giving our people a real home in the face of hardship, and we build an ark to cross space and get to it.”

  With my mind now focused, I noticed the glimmer in her eyes when she spoke of Trass—the austerity of her façade. Our relation to him was more than faith to her. She believed it completely, and for the first time, the notion that it might be true really hit me. I could understand why my father had felt the need to bear the burden alone. To hide. They were planet-sized shoes to fill.

  The cargo bay’s door whooshed open and promptly ended our conversation. The four of us immediately hopped to our feet, but Rin raised a finger to shush us. We were behind a row of storage containers, and she peeked around the end of them toward the door. I followed.

  Two male Ringer workers strolled in, wearing tidy Pervenio staff uniforms. Pointed hats rested on their heads, as if they were attending a formal ball in a Pre-Meteorite era.

  “One more meal before we hit zero-g,” one of them groused.

  “Better than carrying one more drink to a fat mud stomper in a bathing suit,” said the other.

  “Still, who could be that hungry? Can’t they wait until we dock?”

  “Apparently not. We better be getting paid a full shift for this, though.”

  “You know we won’t. ‘Wasted gas for a weeklong trip is expensive,’ they’ll say.”

  They stopped by a pair of food supply crates and started loading them onto a rolling rack. “Trass damn the Children of Titan,” one said. “You’d think they realize that they’re just hurting the rest of our wallets?”

  “I don’t think they care,” the other replied.

  Rin drew her pulse-rifle and stalked out into the aisle. “You’re right,” she said, aiming at them. Our conversation dropped from my mind, and I remembered who she was. I hurried out beside her, fearful that she might shoot them, Ringers or not.

  “Don’t move,” I warned them. “Don’t shout.”

  Their hands shot into the air. Their jaws dropped beneath their sanitary masks. They couldn’t get much paler than they already were, but any hint of color fled their cheeks.

  “P… please, don’t shoot,” one of them stuttered.

  That was when I realized I had a pulse-rifle of my own aimed at them. I lowered it.

  Rin stomped forward. “Uniforms off,” she demanded. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

  “Listen to her, and you’ll be fine,” I said, hopeful I wasn’t lying.

  They didn’t wait. Hands shaking, they removed their uniforms down to a pair of crummy boiler suits you couldn’t get anywhere else but in the Darien Lowers. My eyes darted between them and the barrel of Rin’s pulse-rifle the entire time.

  “On the floor,” Rin said once they were undressed. They crumpled their uniforms and placed them down. “Masks and gloves too.” They hesitated for a moment and then decided to do as she asked and risk exposure.

  “Good,” she said. “Now come this way.” She took a step back and beckoned them around the corner. They obeyed, at least until one of them saw my face up close. He stopped in his tracks, eyes wide like he’d seen a ghost.

  “By Trass, it’s you,” he said, incredulous. “Kale D—”

  Rin cracked him across the head with the butt of her rifle, knocking him out. Gareth did the same to the other.

  “What are you doing!” I whispered sharply.

  “Two walked in,” she replied. “Only two can walk out. Now get dressed.”

  She approached their uniforms, but I tugged on her arm. “What are you going to do to them?” I asked.

  “Hide them. Or do you have a better idea?” I didn’t. She pulled away from me and picked up a uniform. “From now on, you’re a servant on the—” She paused and read the tag printed above the chest. “Ring Skipper.”

  “What kind of name is that?” Hayes laughed.

  “An Earther one,” Rin said. “Help Kale with his armor. There’s no time to waste.”

  Hayes appeared behind me and started removing my suit. Gareth helped Rin. Hayes waited until the top half was folded down over my torso before somehow switching off its power. The tiny needles stabbing my nerves slid out. I instantly fell to my knees, finding that I had to work to draw breath again. The weight of the suit, in combination with my weak natural muscles, was too much to handle. Hayes forced me onto my ass and freed my legs.

  “It’ll take some time to get used to,” he said. “The g-stim we took should help.”

  He drew me to my feet, and then let go without warning. I stumbled forward, legs feeling like jelly as the gravity of Saturn’s upper atmosphere pulled on them. I had to lean against the row of containers to make my way over to the uniforms. Rin held one of them in front of her face, grimacing.

  “Not sure you can pass as a man,” Hayes remarked.

  “Lucky for us, they think we all look the same,” she replied. “Get dressed.”

  Getting it on all by myself was like exercising with heavy weights. I had to take it one exhausted arm at a time for the top half and sit to shove my wobbly legs into the pant-legs. I was puffing heavily by the end of it.

  I patted the pocket to find its owner had only an ID chip with him. Then I lifted his sanitary mask. The idea of putting on someone else’s was revolting. I washed off both the mask and the man’s gloves in a service sink.

  I glanced back at Rin as I snapped the mask over my mouth. I’d never seen her out of her bulky armor before. She was excessively skinny, no doubt from having survived on a limited amount of ration bars for so long. Her elbows and knees bulged like beads along a string. The uniform fell loose over her chest so that it was impossible to tell if she had breasts, though not that many Ringer women were well-endowed in that area. A sanitary mask covered the worst region of her facial scars, which surprisingly made her pleasant to look at, though I couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of her hair drawn into a bun and hiding beneath a pointed service hat. The trappings of civilian life didn’t suit her.

  “You look gorgeous,” Hayes cackled as he dragged one of the unconscious bodies across the floor.

  “Shut up,” she snapped, her healthy cheek a light shade of pink.

  “Seriously. Forget your sister. I might take a run at you when this is all over.”

  “I said, shut up!”

  He snickered but didn’t dare push her further.

  “So now what?” I asked as I put on a pair of gloves.

  “We need a hand-terminal,” Rin said.

  “You didn’t have any on the Sunfire?”

  “None that still work. You think you’ll be able to steal one?”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Unless you’d rather break into the command deck. Rylah’s taught me a few tricks, so I should be able to relay a message to her through their com array without them realizing.”

  I smiled. “Finally, you pick something I’m good at.”

  “All right, then—let’s go. The kitchen is expecting our delivery.”

  “You two, don’t take long,” Hayes said. Gareth held open a tall storage container while Hayes stuffed one of the bodies in. “Once we hit zero-g, you’ll be expected in restraints.”

  “We won’t,” Rin said. “If anyone comes through that door—”

  Hayes finished with the
body and slapped the container on the side. “Give them a shiny box just like these two. I know.”

  Rin and I emerged from the cargo bay, pushing the rack that the Ringer staff had prepared for us. We kept our heads down on the way out, wary of surveillance despite our disguises. A crimson carpet with gold frills extended down the center of a gracious hallway. Wonderfully elaborate faux-wood moldings ran along the edges of the tall, white-paneled ceiling, hiding thin air recycler vents pumping in unpleasantly warm air. Golden pendant lights hung from it, high enough for even the tallest Ringer to pass comfortably.

  If that wasn’t enough, a row of glassy doors to our left opened up to one side of what was labeled the NATURE DECK. Inside, trees with broad, frilly leaves soared toward a latticed dome projecting the image of a clear blue sky inside, like from the stories about ancient Earth. Through them, I could see tan-colored sand with calm waves lapping at it. Lounge seats were arranged along it, beneath massive, hanging light fixtures than shone like the sun.

  An Earther with too many rolls to count lay upon one, wearing tinted glasses. He barked at a masked Ringer server carrying a tray of drinks, who’d apparently done something wrong. She remained silent and cowered.

  Rin whispered something to me as I slowed to stare in awe. I was too distracted to hear her. “Kale!” she snapped when I didn’t answer right away.

  “Sorry,” I replied. “What?”

  “Focus,” she said. “We can’t look shocked by their decadence, as disgusting as it is.” She stared straight ahead, concentrated on our task and not fazed in the slightest by the most luxurious space I’d ever seen. “And we have to remember to follow every order we’re given,” she added.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m used to having a captain.”

  “I’m not worried about you.”

  We turned at the first branch in the hallway away from the NATURE DECK. It looked the same as the last, only without a field of green through the doors.

  “Do you have any idea where you’re going?” I asked.

  “Not at all,” she said, “but they do.”

  Two Earther security officers appeared from around another corner a ways down. They weren’t freelance like John and his team. These were legitimate Pervenio officers, in full armor and regalia, armed with pulse-rifles and the newest in shock-baton technology. Seeing one again made me cringe as I remembered what the lit end felt like.

  “Aye, you two!” one of them hollered. “Get those back to the kitchen now. We’ve got hungry customers.”

  “Staff is stretched thin,” Rin said, keeping her voice low and subservient. “They sent us to grab this, but we haven’t ever worked the kitchen.”

  “I hate when they shuffle in new help.” The officer rolled his eyes, then waved us along. “Come on.”

  They rushed by, and Rin and I exchanged a nod before turning the cart to follow behind them. She was smart. With our uniforms on, no Earther security officer would know who or where we were supposed to be.

  We rounded another corner and soon approached an ornamental door clad with more fake wood. As we got closer, I actually started to wonder if it was the real thing. Considering most trees didn’t grow naturally anywhere in Sol, there was no material more expensive to build with. Even the majority of Earth struggled to foster sizable flora after the Meteorite.

  The officers held the door open for us. “Unload quickly,” one said. “Servers are already sending out the first course.”

  We rolled the cart into a sweltering room clad in shiny chrome. Stoves and other kitchen appliances were steaming. Voices of a dozen chefs and prep-men yammered in every direction. The latter were mostly Ringers, too overheated and invested in chopping ingredients to realize we were strangers. The Earthers wouldn’t notice we didn’t belong unless we wore blinking signs that said as much. Once again, I found sanitary masks to have a greater use than simply keeping germs out of my mouth. They were a scoundrel’s best friend.

  “Finally!” a stout Earther I assumed was the head chef exclaimed. He lumbered around an oven over to us, wearing a scowl and a ridiculously tall, white hat. “These people paid good money not to wait. Next time, you’ll be paying for it.”

  His thumbprint unlocked each container we’d transported. They opened with a refrain of hisses and steam, revealing more frozen slabs of meat in vacuum-sealed bags. Each one bore the emblem of Pervenio Corp alongside addresses of the industrial animal farms on Earth they’d come from.

  “Start unloading, Ringers!” the chef ordered.

  Rin held her tongue, and we got to work tossing the blocks of meat onto a counter manned by a Ringer prep-man, who transferred them into zap-defrosters. They were then passed along to cooks to be heated in tremendous industrial ovens. The security officers observing from the corner kept everyone focused. As far as kitchens go, it was extremely efficient.

  None of the slabs of meat were very heavy, but by the time we emptied every container, my arms burned with soreness. Sweat poured down my forehead. I was preparing to lean against the wall and take a break, when I heard a clank.

  One of the prep-men dropped a plate, and before he could apologize, the head chef backhanded him across the face. The Ringer flew into a counter, the edge of it slamming him in the gut and knocking the wind out of him. The entire kitchen went silent for a moment, but when the head chef turned his attention back to the food, everyone else promptly did the same.

  Rin’s hands balled into fists. Being trapped on a ship with only her own kind for years clearly had her unused to dealing with Earthers. I prepared myself for the worst, and then someone slapped a finished plate down on our rack. On it lay a steak, cooked to perfection and served beside the greenest spread of steamed vegetables I’d ever seen in my life. Then came another plate, and another, until the cart was full.

  “What’re you two standing around for? Tables are waiting!” the head chef yelled at us.

  I gave Rin a tug on her shirt to get her moving, and we rolled the rack toward a door on the other side of the kitchen. Another pair of Ringer staff appeared with an empty rack right behind us. Focusing on pushing was nearly impossible with the fantastic aromas wafting right in front of my nose. I wasn’t sure what smell was what, since I’d never experienced food like this, but it sure beat salt and molten metal. I immediately regretted having gotten a job on a gas harvester and not a luxury cruiser.

  “You see any terminals in there?” Rin asked.

  “None,” I said, though I hadn’t exactly been paying attention. The hubbub of an active kitchen was hard to ignore.

  We emerged into the ship’s galley. Or rather, dining room—it was much too grand and seated far too many people to be a galley. The gentle, harmonious melody of string-instruments emanated from live performers in one corner. One was taller than the musician herself, with a curving bow made from wood and more than a dozen filaments.

  Hundreds of Earthers sat at round tables with frilly tablecloths draped over the tops. The tall ceiling was coffered, and I had no doubt that the rich-colored wood it was made of had been cut from real trees. Sparkling chandeliers fell from it in equal intervals, dozens of crystal arms arcing away from their centers.

  The hallways of the cruiser paled in comparison. This was now the most ostentatious room I’d ever visited in my life by far, and the sight gave even Rin pause upon entry. Massive paintings on the pearly walls hung above a molded, wooden trim. At first, I thought they were prints, but the brushstrokes had texture. I didn’t even know people painted anymore. They were landscapes from ancient Earth, a place nobody would ever see after the Meteorite struck. Blue skies, green pastures—they’d all gone away soon after Trass fled.

  Earthers glowered at the food on our rack as if we weren’t there. They appeared famished. Judging by the width of their stomachs, they didn’t know what real hunger was.

  I nodded to Rin, and she returned the gesture. We rolled the food forward and began serving plates to each patron. They cracked their stubby fingers and licked thei
r lips, prepared for a delicious meal. Forks clanked, knives sawed, and all I could focus on were the sounds of teeth chomping on thick slices of meat. Earthers slurped down drinks fashioned with genuine alcohol, poured by additional Ringer staff. They laughed and reveled, celebrating the mere fact that they existed.

  At first, I wanted to grab a plate and devour the food, but the more we served, the more I just wanted to shove it down their throats. To watch them choke on portions so excessive they could’ve fed an entire level of the Lowers for days.

  Armed security officers posted all around the room made doing any of that impossible. They weren’t watching out for patrons getting too drunk and disorderly—they were keeping an eye on us servers to make sure we didn’t attempt to sneak some of the good food.

  “Hey, Ringer!” a guest shouted to Rin after we attended his table. “I thought I told the kitchen I wanted it well-done.” It was the same man I’d seen yelling down at the beach. He was so fat, his jowls bounced as he talked, and he hadn’t even bothered to change into formal clothes or button his shirt. He raised the piece of meat stuck on his fork for us to see.

  Rin froze.

  “Are you deaf?” he continued.

  “Sorry, I don’t know what that means,” she replied, with an edge to her tone that made me nervous.

  The Earther cackled, bits of food spewing out of his mouth. The others seated at his table covered their mouths to hide their laughter. “Well, how about you get me someone who does. Or better yet, take this bleeding shit back and get me a new one!” His fork clanged against the plate, and then he shoved it toward us.

  Rin remained silent. I could see her fingers twitching. Three years on a gas harvester, far from civilization and Earther verbal abuse, and she was probably ready to explode.

  “There a problem over here?” a security officer asked, arriving seemingly out of nowhere. His hand rested securely on the handle of his shock-baton.

  “Yeah,” the fat Earther growled. “This one won’t take my plate back. I didn’t order it like this.”