Ascension

by Nicholas Woode-Smith

  Krag-Zot stood.

  ‘Let’s get back to training.’

  “No more lines to kill. No goals. No primary function. Is this freedom? I would rather have servitude.” – John Smith, a Gwok-Co SpySyn left with no primary function after Gwok-Co was dissolved.

  Chapter 12.

  The Red World

  Danny could feel the red. Despite the steel-coloured city, with motleys of white, blue and green, Danny knew this was a red world. The way the sun shone through the airborne sand. The easily miss-able dust in every crack. Even the smell. It felt like the better parts of home. It felt like Zona Nox.

  The flight had taken two standard weeks. Erryn insisted that with any other pilot, it would have taken triple the time. Danny couldn’t argue. He had next to no experience of space-travel. Nathan, who had made the trip from Mars to Zona Nox years before, agreed with Erryn.

  ‘Best damn pilot is right,’ he said. Danny didn’t see any reason to argue.

  They docked in an Aegis port in the city of Brent’s Peak. Danny couldn’t see how it could be considered a single city. The entirety of Mars was covered with a single urban sprawl, even rising into the air on spires and floating platforms. It looked like something from out of a fantasy. But, Danny reminded himself, sufficiently advanced technology was basically magic.

  ‘So, Mr Martian,’ Danny said to Nathan, who balked at the title. ‘Where to from here?’

  Nathan bit down whatever venomous retort he had in stock and replied, ‘The High Protector is in New London. You have your orders from Mr Wivern. Defiant interests have a bit of time before we are granted an audience. The emissary of the Order’s biggest corporate ally gets first-class treatment.’

  The uppity ex-Trooper’s voice was full of venom. Danny had known all this already. He just wanted to see Nathan hiss.

  ‘Let’s go, Krena. Sights to see,’ Danny called, as Krena wrestled with a service-syn that was attempting to help her with her bags. Krena successfully secured her bag, much to the service-syn’s chagrin, and trotted to Danny’s side.

  ‘Let’s visit the Hephaestus Forge before we leave the Aegis platform,’ she said, a thinly veiled hint of childish excitement in her voice.

  ‘Hephaestus Forge?’

  ‘Aegis has an entire division devoted to producing the close-combat weapons of the future. We can probably see the good stuff with your clearance.’

  Danny rolled his eyes but smiled.

  He’d delay his meeting with the High Protector for a few hours. For Krena.

  

  Erryn and Yobu sat in a Martian café, sipping Stardust rum and coke and chowing on teriyaki wraps. Nathan and Gretswald had gone off on their own. Nathan’s presence wasn’t exactly needed, Yobu said, but who was he to tell the man he couldn’t come home for a bit? So, Nathan and the preacher went off to do their own thing. Sightseeing, perhaps. Erryn didn’t know what sights there were to see. Erryn was not a fan of Mars. The sky was fake. The stars were shone through a screen, or by some mirror science quackery. All the hovercars were cheap imitations of starships. Gaudy, fragile. Good for keeping the smog and dust out, but not for surviving the vacuum of spaces. Most of Mars’ inhabitants had no desire to step foot in a starship. Even fewer tried to understand those who had been born on a starship.

  Erryn had spent a lot of time on Mars. It was not a time she wanted to relive. But Yobu needed a lift, and she owed him more than just one.

  ‘So…’ Yobu said, breaking the silence as the syn-waiter refilled his coffee. ‘Mars…’

  ‘Yeah, Mars,’ Erryn replied, almost snapping.

  Isn’t his fault. He wouldn’t know.

  Yobu frowned, but before he could speak, Erryn heard a voice like nails on a chalkboard.

  ‘Erryn?’ the voice said, sounding like the screech of a beast that could only speak in condescension. ‘Erryn Kolheim? Back among the dirt-birthers?’

  Erryn swivelled in her chair, arms and legs crossed.

  ‘Jessie Lavenhill. Long time.’

  ‘Long time indeed,’ Jessie laughed, taking a seat and bringing it to their table – uninvited. ‘And that’s Major Jessie Lavenhill, now.’

  Erryn stared blankly, thoroughly unimpressed. Jessie’s grin twitched but didn’t disappear.

  ‘So, what you been up to these past years? Still piloting that rust bucket?’

  ‘It was pretty well maintained, I thought,’ Yobu chimed it, after a bite of teriyaki wrap. He had some sauce above his lip. Erryn normally wouldn’t notice, but for a moment, she felt an intense embarrassment.

  Why? Why would I care what this grako thinks?

  Jessie turned to Yobu and gazed him up and down.

  ‘Trooper uniform? No…blue and black?’

  Jessie squinted and then her eyes widened as she turned to Erryn.

  ‘You dating a mercenary?’

  Erryn didn’t respond. She took an oversized bite of her wrap and chewed, purposefully with her mouth open.

  ‘I was a Trooper,’ Yobu responded with an unfailing smile. ‘I am now serving in the Defiant Forces.’

  Yobu stood and offered his hand.

  ‘Commander Teraka Yobu. Pleased to meet you.’

  Jessie eyed Yobu’s hand but didn’t shake it. Neither did her grin disappear.

  ‘Never heard of the Defiant Forces. I hope you get some good jobs. Erryn here needs all the financial help she can get.’

  Yobu smiled. ‘Erryn? Need help? I think you might be confused.’

  Jessie didn’t respond. She eyed her wrist-tab and then stood.

  ‘Good to see you again, Kolheim. Keep flying those routes and drinking that rum. And remember, without Armada, you wouldn’t be able to.’

  Jessie sauntered off. Erryn couldn’t help but whisper under her breath, ‘Vokken Armada can’t help a damn thing.’

  Yobu sat down. His smile was gone.

  ‘What a horrible woman.’

  That broke Erryn out of her reverie, and she couldn’t help but look at Yobu with a look of sincere affection. She sighed.

  ‘I shouldn’t have come back.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have made you. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Not your fault. And... I owed you.’

  ‘You owe me nothing.’

  Erryn snorted. She didn’t think so. Yobu’s frown deepened.

  ‘How did you know her?’

  ‘Jessie? Grako from Academy.’

  ‘Armada Academy?’

  Erryn’s silence was answer enough. She added more rum to her coke.

  ‘What happened there, Erryn? You’re the best pilot I know, and I served alongside countless Armada pilots. You couldn’t have flunked out.’

  Erryn tensed her grip on her glass, but Yobu’s eyes calmed her.

  ‘I ain’t a good pilot.’

  ‘Mozar-skite.’

  ‘Nah, listen…’

  Erryn paused.

  Why am I talking about this?

  Because you owe him.

  Erryn gulped and continued.

  ‘I signed up for Academy the moment I turned sixteen standard. Before then, I served as a cabin girl on the Kolheim. Learned to fly the shipborn way. Barry taught me after…pegg got my parents. When I watched them die, I got it into my head that I would do anything it took to make sure something like that couldn’t happen to anyone ever again. So, when Barry thought I was old enough, he let me join Academy. The entire Kolheim crew pitched in to help me pay tuition…’

  Erryn’s eyes moistened. She fought it down.

  ‘They didn’t need to. First year, I got enough grants to take me through my entire career. Was on the path to being the top large-vessel pilot of my generation…’

  Erryn stopped. Yobu didn’t press.

  Skiting man.

  She continued.

  ‘But I dropped out.’

  ‘Just like that?’ Yobu asked.

  ‘Not just like that…I…I got to advanced simulations and live-fire training. We were to tag along with real Armada vessels
and crews to get a taste for it. Some real experience. I was assigned to the OA Solstorm. A frigate equipped with orbital flak. We were sent to a squogg colony off of the Elex-Rise Belt. It had been acting as a port for Black Fleet and assorted raiders and Armada wanted to put a stop to it.’

  Erryn poured more rum in her coke but didn’t drink.

  ‘Putting a stop to it meant letting loose with all its guns on the colony.’

  ‘Did the colony aggravate the fleet?’

  Erryn shook her head. ‘Doesn’t need to. That’s not Armada’s MO. Its MO is annihilation. Squogg aren’t humans. Aren’t human allies. They’re xenos. Filthy, terroristic, warlike xenos. Doesn’t matter if they didn’t shoot first. Doesn’t matter if they don’t fight back. All that matters is lining up the ship just right. Keeping its firing arc optimal for the gunneries…and then waiting for your next order.’

  Erryn took a swig. It was more rum than coke, now.

  ‘I dropped out second I got back to Mars. I paid back the grants I’d been given in full, and then I hailed the Kolheim. Barry didn’t question me. Only hugged me and showed me the way to the cockpit. I never came back – till now.’

  Silence. Erryn couldn’t handle Yobu’s eyes. She didn’t need his pity! She looked down.

  ‘I flunked out of Academy, Yobu. Cause I didn’t have the guts. Didn’t have what it takes to rid the galaxy of pegg. I’m not the best pilot! I’m worse than a damn dirt-birther. I was weak. Too weak to do the hard thing for the right reasons.’

  Silence, again. Erryn felt a hand rest on hers. She looked up.

  ‘You aren’t weak. And you weren’t weak. It isn’t guts you need to kill innocents. Its guts you need to realise you have convictions that nothing can break. You stuck to your principles, Erryn. And to me, that makes you the best damn pilot on this rock…no, the galaxy.’

  Erryn’s eyes did moisten. Then she hit Yobu hard in the shoulder. Before he could recover from the blow, she leaned over the table, gripped him by his cuff and kissed him, until she had to stop for breath.

  ‘Let’s go sightseeing,’ she said, smiling for the first time since they’d landed.

  

  ‘This evidence is pretty damning,’ Winston Mengel, High Protector of the Trooper Order and arguably the most powerful human in the galaxy, said. ‘And with this evidence, Mr…’

  ‘Marzio. Danny Marzio.’

  ‘Like the v-flick character?’

  ‘I have heard that Phil Rotsby’s performance of me is entertaining, but I must say it is misleading…I am much better looking.’

  Winston laughed, a deep, throaty and sincere chuckle. He put the data-tab on his desk and leaned back.

  Danny smiled, noting the man’s scars.

  So, this is the High Protector of humanity, Danny pondered. He didn’t know if to think it an appropriate fit, or not.

  ‘Well, Mr Marzio. As I was saying, this evidence is meticulously compiled. Just what I’d expect from Aegis. Quality.’

  ‘So…’

  ‘The Trooper Order will allow a war between Aegis and Zerian without interference by the Trooper Order. We will cordon off the Zerian facilities on Mars and allow for Aegis to do as it will.’

  Winston lit a cigar and swivelled in his chair, facing the window behind him. Stunned, Danny asked:

  ‘Just like that?’

  Winston nodded slowly, showing only his profile.

  ‘No consulting the Council-Generals? No independent investigation yourself?’ Danny pressed.

  Winston sighed and swivelled back to face Danny.

  ‘You’re right to question me on this, Mr Marzio. A year ago – Terra, just a few months ago, I’d have put you and Aegis on hold for all the proper procedures. But in the last couple months, things have changed. We’ve got open warfare in the streets. Humans acting like beasts, killing aliens that we’ve lived peacefully alongside for centuries. Half the Council is off-world touring the core worlds to ensure our defences are setup against the Black Fleet resurgence and the other half is so old they think the Merka uprising is still a thing. I don’t have the liberty of going through proper procedures. In the field, when you have bullets flying at you and seconds to act, you trust your gut. And my gut tells me that letting Aegis bite down on Zerian is a good move.’

  Danny frowned, something he immediately internally hit himself for. Danny didn’t like showing his outward emotions. Lost him the edge.

  ‘Sir…’

  ‘Mr Mengel, please.’

  ‘Mr Mengel, it is within my interest for you to grant us this war as soon as possible, but personally, I would have expected more thought to go into it. There has to be more than just a gut feeling.’

  Winston took a few heavy puffs of his cigar and then extinguished it in an ashtray. Danny sniffed the air. It was a brand he was not familiar with. There were probably countless types of tobacco he had never experienced. Danny felt a pang of melancholy, realising what he had always known – that there was so much he would never experience in this infinite existence.

  ‘You fought in the Battle for Nova Zarxa?’ Winston finally asked, his eyes becoming serious.

  Danny nodded.

  ‘Then you know what we’re up against.’

  The Imperial Council. Danny nodded again.

  ‘I am a man who extols the virtues of private enterprise. The Trooper Order, for the most part, has always been supporters of liberty in that regard, at least. For that reason, the Order has never intervened drastically in the affairs of the galactic megacorporations. That may have been a mistake…’

  Winston stood and turned towards the window, hands clasped behind his back. In the distance, Danny could see the red-hazed ecumenopolis of Mars, peppered with the specks of flying cars.

  ‘Zerian doesn’t act like a company, Mr Marzio. It acts like the warlords my predecessors sacrificed so much to destroy. They rule over their fiefdoms as slavers, not as companies. Yet, so much of the Martian economy relies on them. Commodities feed our growing appetites. We cannot subsist on vat-meat alone. We want real mozar steak. Real Grengen tobacco. Real salmon from the alpine worlds of Ziegler 10. These are all things Zerian brings us. But at what cost?’

  Danny didn’t reply. Winston did for him.

  ‘The cost of our own principles. We brag about our freedom on Mars. We brag about our prosperity. But it is at the cost of slaves. It is at the cost of all that live under the shadow of Zerian.’

  Winston turned and placed his hands on the table, while still standing. He looked Danny in the eyes.

  ‘The Trooper Order serves Mars first. And Mars would never want to lose what Zerian gives it. But…Aegis has its own interests. And if Aegis is strong enough and virtuous enough to remove the temptation of Zerian from our society, then we can learn to live without our vices. In the days to come, we will need to learn discipline, anyway.’

  ‘For when the Imperials finally invade?’

  Winston nodded. He sat down.

  ‘Aegis has the Troopers’ blessing for their war on the Zerian vice. Hopefully, coreworlders will have enough of a moral backbone to realise that slightly more expensive coffee is a small price to pay for the freedom of others. But above that…we need Zerian out of the picture. If they have sided with Imperia, and it is my belief that they have, then they need to be destroyed. We cannot have an enemy within the walls when the Star Horde besieges the gates. Mr Marzio, I hope your corporation is able to do what we cannot.’

  Danny nodded. Not just a gestural punctuation, but an explicit affirmative. A promise. With that, Danny stood and moved to exit the room of the most powerful man on the planet – if not the whole of humanity. He stopped.

  Winston knew Quentin.

  Could he know what Quentin is capable of?

  Capable of murder?

  ‘Mr Mengel, one question, if you will?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘You know my boss, Quentin Wivern, right?’

  ‘Correct.’

  Danny frowned. This
is the hard part.

  ‘What type of person is he?’

  Winston raised his eyebrow. ‘An odd question to come from a subordinate.’

  ‘I may be his subordinate, but I’m still human. I don’t know much about him. As someone who knew him, I’d like to know what you think of him.’

  Winston nodded, slowly.

  ‘I served with Quentin. We fought on Ganymede, together. And then we served as Wraiths. He was a driven man. Unparalleled in terms of raw intellect. He is a visionary. A natural leader. As stubborn as they come. Above all, I trust his loyalty to humanity…’

  A pause. A puff of renewed smoke. Winston had re-lit his cigar.

  ‘But loyalty can make a man crazy. Quentin is a good man, but better men have fallen to much less ambitious causes.’

  Danny nodded, slowly, and then departed.

  

  Gretswald stood in awe. His eyes were that of a child’s, sparkling in a sea of wrinkled, leathery skin. With all Gretswald’s naivete and excitement, Nathan could not help but feel the elder, despite Gretswald’s seniority. But in this instance, he did not blame Gretswald for his awe.

  Before them was a structure of light grey stone, smoothed by time and bleached almost white by Mars’ artificially enhanced sunlight. The wall rose fifteen metres high, stopping to allow for the first level, then starting its ascent once again. At the top of the monolith was an observatory. In the past, it would have had a clear line-of-sight to Earth. Heavy space traffic and the satellite cities surrounding Mars now disallowed that, but the structure remained.

  ‘The Temple of Terra,’ Nathan said, simply. Gretswald didn’t respond. He stepped forward, almost tripping over himself despite his slow amble. He placed his hand on the rock and held it.

  The distant hum and tweet of birds filled the air. The sun was merciful today and the air was cool. Nathan sniffed. The smell of pine. The parks must still be functioning. Nathan was glad. He had spent much of his youth in Mars’ parks – its lungs. Many had given away to increased Trooper industry, but many more seemed to remain – defended by property owners and corporate sponsors.