by C. Gockel
Alaric growled. “Your father is an idiot.”
“I know,” she whispered. She wasn’t going home. At least she could have her book. With shaking hands, she took it. Her brow furrowed. Alaric never criticized her father before. Why of all times…now? A sudden dread began to uncoil in the pit of her stomach. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. She knew that someone with authority in New Fargo had been in league with the pirates that captured her ship. She’d seen it when the Dark had possessed her, but she hadn’t known who.
Standing abruptly, Alaric paced a few steps away, one hand on his forehead.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.
The intercom, silent for so long, cracked with the voice of one of the priests.
“Captain Darmadi, this is a sensitive matter and—”
And then she knew. “My father. You think he was the one who sabotaged the Manna.” Pulling the book closer, she smoothed her hand down its spine. It was solid. Real.
There was no response. Which was a response.
Her kidnapping must have destabilized Luddeccea—she’d never heard of a lady of her stature ever being kidnapped before. Luddeccean society was still reeling from the plague, and the alliance with the Galacticans. It was the perfect time to sow seeds of doubt in the new administration. Her family could have swooped in and “rescued” her by paying the ransom and set themselves up as a powerful alternative to Archbishop Sato’s allies. “You may well be right.”
Alaric looked at her sharply.
Closing her eyes, Alexis clutched the book tighter. “But my father is an idiot—he couldn’t have done it alone.” She remembered her mother’s words. “...it can’t be Veronica. She’s so flighty; she is prone to histrionics.”
“You must question my mother,” Alexis whispered.
Alaric’s breath hitched. He took quick steps toward her—she thought he almost touched her, but instead he pulled back, sat down, and wiped his face with his hands. “How can I help you?”
Alaric loved his parents. She supposed that to him it must seem that she’d just betrayed people she loved for the greater good. But she’d long ago let go of love for her parents; they were just people she was supposed to love. And their betrayal was…not as shocking as it should be. She should at least feel hurt by their actions, but she mostly felt…numb.
Alaric, however, still made her burn with shame, grief, and failure—for her marriage, her own stupidity and naivety, she didn’t know. But here he was…as though…as though… She couldn’t let herself think it. Studying the book’s cover, Alexis said, “You can help me by telling me why you’ve come in here.”
“I’m here because they’re wrong,” he said, waving toward the window, indignation clear.
“Not because you love me.”
A vent sighed softly in the corner of the room.
“I would do it for anyone,” he replied.
She nodded. She knew that.
“But I want to love you, Alexis.”
She looked up, as surprised as she’d been when he’d walked through the door.
He leaned forward, hands on his knees. “Alexis, when I was imprisoned, I knew that Sam and Lucas would be safe. That they would grow up strong, and smart, and brave, because you wouldn’t accept anything less of them. And then Markus was born…” He put a hand through his short cropped, gray hair. “You sent me a seven-page letter explaining the diagnosis, the treatment options, and a list of reasons why he shouldn’t be institutionalized as well as a summary of all the schools that would accept him, and occupational options he could pursue if he so desired.”
“It’s foolish to give up on someone who is perfectly able in other respects because he is different in one way,” Alexis declared, daring him to challenge her.
“I agree.” He met her eyes. “Alexis, I want to love the woman who sent me that letter, but I don’t know who she is.” He waved a hand at On the Origins of War. “She won’t even tell me the books she reads.”
Alexis’s shoulders fell. She felt cornered. Somehow the correct answers always failed when she answered her husband. The werfle slunk off Alaric’s shoulder and took a seat on the bed. Watching it gave her an excuse not to look at her husband, a distraction as she tried to compose herself.
“I understand,” Alaric said, “that you have helped decipher the alien logographs.”
She shifted in her seat. “I, well, yes, but it was only due to the infection not because—”
“You’re brilliant?”
“I wouldn’t say that—”
“Really?” Alaric smiled wryly. “My mother always used to remind my father that ninety percent of intelligence is passed down from the mother. Our children are brilliant, so that must mean—”
“My mother would—” Alexis closed her eyes. Her mother would never say that to her father directly. Her mother would, however, use her eldest, most obedient child as a pawn.
Alaric got up fast, and Alexis shrank back.
He dropped to one knee and put a hand over hers still on her book. “Alexis…what can I do?”
What could he do? He couldn’t take away what her parents had done. She’d worked so hard to keep up appearances so that she wouldn’t fall victim to gossip and drama—but look at her—captured by pirates. It was the stuff of farcical television shows, except it had been nearly deadly, and her brush with the Dark’s infection had been torture.
The vent clicked off. She heard the shuffle of feet through the intercom, and a door whoosh.
“Please tell me what you need,” Alaric whispered.
What she needed was to never fear her children would endure the Dark. Her heart rate sped up, but when she spoke, she sounded like an automaton. “My work with the alien logographs is important.” The machines worked so much faster than her, but still relied on her for symbols they didn’t understand and for the hazy dreams she still possessed of the aliens’ society.
“Yes, it is essential that we know what happened to them so we can defeat the Dark,” Alaric said. “When you come home, you can continue to work. We will talk to Archbishop Sato. If he does not install a computer terminal in our home, he will have a messenger visiting you morning and night, dropping off alien writings and picking up your translations.” He squeezed her hand. “If you want to continue to do it.” he added more uncertainly.
“Yes.” Alexis’s brow furrowed.
Alaric cleared his throat. “And if you want to come home.”
Did she want to go home? Home was drama and public shame. She would be forever tainted by her association with traitors, and she wasn’t sure that being married to a man even with Alaric’s heroic reputation could ever undo that. But…she thought of Markus’s, Sam’s, and Lucas’s faces…her guiding stars through her recovery. “I want to see my boys.”
Alaric nodded. Holding her hand, he rose. Picking up her tablets and stylus, she stood, but couldn’t quite meet his eyes even when he touched her cheek. She was, she thought, supposed to kiss him, but he felt like a stranger. He dropped his hand and gestured for her to go before him to the exit.
She didn’t move, another question haunting her. “That weere—” She caught herself saying the last word like a curse, and she took a breath. “That weere woman. Why did she rescue me?” She’d felt sure to the last that it had been a ploy to keep her away from Alaric, that maybe the weere had been in league with the pirates…and why wouldn’t she think that? Her own parents had been.
A cloud crossed Alaric’s face, but he responded, “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Likely because it was the right thing.”
Alexis gazed down at their joined hands. Alaric said it was important to defeat the Dark. She believed he meant it, simply because he wasn’t good at lying. It was a horrible weakness. He wasn’t able to say what she wanted to hear—not now, not during that fight in the rain.
She swallowed. He’d also said he wanted to love her. Was that true? Was that possible…and could she love him? She didn’t think she
understood him. But maybe she didn’t need to love him or understand him. The ‘bot had said the enemy of my enemy is not my friend but could be an ally. Alaric could be an ally. It was strange to think of a husband that way. She gripped her tablet and book more tightly under her arm.
“I will carry those for you, if you like,” he said.
She almost handed them to him, because that was what was done, but then she pulled back. “I…I…need something solid on both sides of me,” she said, and then was horrified by her incoherence.
Kissing her temple, Alaric said, “That’s very understandable.”
He gestured toward the door. This time she went forward, the werfle hopping at her heels. The door opened from the other side. Heart picking up, she walked through, and it struck her—she was stepping into a Republic Space Station—a new world. Alaric’s hand tightened around hers.
Still in the maintenance ring, bowed over the tablet, 6T9 bolted up straight at an incoming ether ping.
“What is it, Sixty?” Volka asked.
“News of Alexis.” Scanning the general message board shared by her medical team, one of his eyebrows rose. “She’s going home. Alaric stepped in and gave the Luddeccean government no choice.”
“Typical of him,” Volka said, sounding not surprised, nor happy, or sad, her gaze off the screen.
Shaking her head, she said, “Where is Carl?”
“He went off to find—”
“Rats!” Carl cried, trotting down the aisle toward them. “There’s a whole colony down here, Volka! Next time you’re on Time Gate 1, let’s skip the restaurants and head right to the maintenance section.”
Volka’s head moved side to side, and 6T9 realized she was trying to see the genocidal weasel.
Carl slunk onto 6T9’s lap, and 6T9 angled the tablet’s camera down so Carl would be in view. His Q-comm and his sex ‘bot impulses got the better of him, and he said, “I am happy to see you, Volka, but that’s just a werfle in my lap.”
Volka laughed. “It’s such a big werfle, too.”
“It’s just fluff!” Carl cried, bolting upright, spreading eight pairs of limbs, and then rapidly patting himself. “See?”
Blinking at the werfle, Volka’s lips formed an “o.”
6T9 plucked some of the fluff from his pant leg and flicked it away.
“Ahem,” said Carl, smoothing a paw over an ear. “As I was saying—a whole colony—and their diet consists almost exclusively of popcorn from the holotheater. They taste like they’ve been basted in butter, Volka. Butter.”
Eyes lighting up, Volka’s lips smacked. “Oooooh.”
6T9 smirked. “I’m so glad you feel comfortable discussing your culinary indulgences around me.” He was glad, actually.
“We’ll do better and share it with you!” Carl said, twisting around, 180 degrees, and nodding vigorously.
“Speak for yourself,” said Volka, grinning ear to ear, and 6T9 snorted and grinned. But then Volka’s eyes left the screen. “Barnaby is here,” she said. “It’s his turn to use the Q-comm.”
Corporal Barnaby’s voice rose from the tablet. “It’s my mom’s birthday!”
“See you at the asteroid soon!” Volka declared. 6T9 nodded. He and Carl had to spend a few nights there to qualify them as still legally in “residence” to meet the conditions of his former employer’s will.
Barnaby’s mug inserted itself between Volka and the screen. He winked at 6T9 and Carl, Volka waved in the background, and then the screen went dark. 6T9 stared at the dark screen for 3.35 minutes.
Carl squeaked. “I miss her, too.”
6T9 looked down at the werfle, and even though it conflicted with the programming that made him wince when he got werfle fur on himself, he scratched Carl behind the ears.
Carl sighed. “She gives better scratches.”
“You’re welcome,” 6T9 said dryly.
Carl’s necklace crackled, but then his body twisted to the shadows. 6T9 saw nothing, but he heard footsteps. He exhaled.
Carl said, “I know those footsteps.”
So did 6T9. A familiar form appeared in the shadows.
“Hello, 6T9,” said James.
Unlike the last time 6T9 had seen the other android, this time James was dressed in casual clothing: jeans, a sweater, and a pleather coat—the sort that 6T9 favored with the large inside pockets.
“Hello,” said 6T9, still sitting on the floor. James hadn’t ethered him to let him know he was here. The ethernet was difficult to hack into—however not impossible for androids and ‘bots with Q-comms who had vast computing resources to rely on. But he could have let 6T9 know he was coming via a “meeting” in a mindscape. Time Gate 1 would be listening in—but Time Gate 1 knew everything he and James did and thought anyway. James hadn’t even done that, though. Could data transferred between James’s server and 6T9’s be intercepted? 6T9 didn’t know for sure.
What could be so secret that James wouldn’t risk any leaks? The answer sparked in his processes as soon as he thought the question. “You have it.”
James nodded. “Yes.”
“Have what?” Carl asked.
James had 6T9’s programming access key. 6T9’s faux breath caught. James wouldn’t want to talk about it, not where ‘bots might be listening. 6T9 put Carl on his shoulders and rose. There was a 98.6 percent chance that James’s “personal business” had been illegal. “This actually might make up for the fact that you’ve never had a threesome with me,” 6T9 said, because saying the truth, that it made up for everything, might fry his circuits.
James rolled his eyes.
Carl looked between them, whiskers quivering, but he said nothing.
“Let’s go to the asteroid,” James said.
“Yes,” said 6T9. It was the safest place. They began walking down the aisle between the broken ‘bots toward Time Gate 1’s passenger wing. 6T9’s circuits buzzed with anticipation. In just a few hours, he could own himself, and he could flip a switch and be the man that Volka wanted. His circuits flashed white and he stopped. Did he want to be the man she wanted or the man she needed?
“Sixty?” James said.
6T9’s head jerked violently to the side. “I couldn’t help Volka. She almost died. I have to be what she needs. I have to be able to—”
6T9’s head jerked again. And again. “I cannot think what I want!” 6T9 didn’t realize he’d screamed until he heard the echo bouncing off the metal walls and the bodies of discarded ‘bots. His tic almost knocked him over, and he had to put a hand on a wall to stay upright.
Carl squeaked. “James, you’ll help him, won’t you?”
Leaning close, James whispered, “Sometimes, 6T9, the cure is as painful as the disease. Are you sure you want this?”
Teeth rattling, all 6T9 could do was nod.
~Fin
The next book in the series is Android General 1. Sign up for my newsletter to get updates.
Also by C. Gockel
The Archangel Project
Archangel Down (free ebook)
Noa's Ark
Heretic
Carl Sagan's Hunt for Intelligent Life in the Universe: A Short Story (free ebook)
Starship Waking
Darkness Rising
The Defiant
Droid General 1
I Bring the Fire
Wolves: I Bring the Fire Part I
Monsters: I Bring the Fire Part II
Chaos: I Bring the Fire Part III
In the Balance: I Bring the Fire Part 3.5
Fates: I Bring the Fire Part IV
The Slip: A Short Story (mostly) from Sleipnir’s Point of Smell
Warriors: I Bring the Fire Part V
Ragnarok: I Bring the Fire Part VI
The Fire Bringers: An I Bring the Fire Short Story
Atomic: A Short Story
Magic After Midnight: A Short Story
Rush: A Short Story
Take My Monsters: A Short Story
Soul Marked: I Bring the
Fire Part VII
Magic After Midnight I Bring the Fire Part VIII
Other Works
Murphy’s Star: A Sci-fi Short Story
Friendly Fire: A Sci-fi Short Story
Let There Be Light: A Sci-fi Short Story
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Thank you for reading Darkness Rising. Because I self-publish, I depend on my readers to help me get the word out. If you enjoyed this story, please let people know in reviews, on Facebook, Twitter, in your blogs, and when you talk books with your friends and family.
Want to know about upcoming releases and get sneak peeks and exclusive content?
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Visit my website: www.cgockelwrites.com
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Or email me: [email protected]