Destra shook her head. “A testament to human arrogance.”
Cavanaugh snorted and went on. “At the time our unit was assigned to another undercover op. We were recalled to join the war, but rather than join the fight, we were taken straight to Etaris without trial or explanation. We found out when we arrived that our identichips had somehow been altered and we were now convicted felons with false names. Suffice to say no one believed us when we arrived. Our uniforms and weapons were confiscated along with our ID tags. You don’t want to know what I had to do to keep mine.”
At that, the captain glanced distastefully at the metal chip lying in his palm.
“The prison warden was in on it, so he didn’t let us say anything to anyone who mattered, and the guards figured we were all crazy.”
“So someone buried you all to make sure no one ever held them accountable for letting the Sythians into our galaxy.”
“That’s right. I guess back then they still thought we might win the war.” Cavanaugh flashed a nasty grin. “But the ones who burned us ended up dying in the war, while we all survived here in Dark Space. Irony’s a kakard,” Cavanaugh said, chuckling.
Captain Covani didn’t look amused. “We’re going to have to verify your story by running the serial numbers of the rest of your men.”
“Not a problem,” Cavanaugh said.
“If everything checks out, the Black Rictans will be officially reinstated with a public pardon—public in this case being the officers on this ship.”
“That’s more than I could have hoped for, sir.”
Covani nodded and Destra watched as he turned to speak to the entire group of prisoners they’d rescued. “As for the rest of you, you will be riding in the brig under close watch until we can determine who, if anyone, should receive a pardon for their crimes. You will also all be subjected to medical examinations and interrogations to ascertain whether or not you have yet been brain-washed into becoming Sythian slaves. If you are cleared, you’ll soon pay your debt to society by helping us rebuild on a new world. That will be all.” Turning back to Cavanaugh he said, “Unfortunately, Sergeant, you and your men will also have to go through the exams.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Good. Dismissed.” Covani saluted the sergeant and turned on his heel to head back the way they’d come. Destra caught up to him a second later.
“Sir,” she whispered.
“What is it, Councilor?”
“I need to discuss something with you.”
“Can it wait? I’m running short on sleep, and I’m long overdue for a hot meal.”
“So am I. I could join you in your office for a meal and we can discuss our next steps.”
“Very well. Meet me there in fifteen, but whatever it is, let’s keep it short.”
“Agreed.”
Fifteen minutes later they sat down in the captain’s office. A low-ranking sentinel brought in two plates of food, each with an identical portion of re-hydrated ration blocks. A small pinkish chunk of meat, a greenish chunk of vegetables, and a stale dinner roll lay steaming on Destra’s plate. The smell was appetizing, but that was probably only because she was so hungry.
While they ate, Destra explained what Torv had said about Noctune and the Gors’ desire to search for survivors there. The captain greeted that news with a frown, so Destra tried sweetening the deal by referencing what they’d just learned about Noctune and the surrounding systems from Sergeant Cavanaugh.
“I’ll admit Cavanaugh’s report makes the Gors’ case stronger, but this will be a one way trip. Do you really want the future of our civilization to depend on staying hidden right under the Sythians’ noses? We might manage it for a few generations, but what happens after that? It would just take one passing Sythian scout to find us. If they found and enslaved the Gors on Noctune, it is likely they will find us and either enslave us or wipe us out.”
“More likely than them finding us in this galaxy after they cleared it for future expansion? At least the Getties won’t be subject to any active exploration, because they already know what’s in their backyard. A passing scout won’t easily detect us, unless we’re trying to communicate with it, or unless we’ve already reached a significant level of civilization. Hopefully if we become that advanced we’ll also be cautious about broadcasting things into space.”
Covani frowned. “What’s your point, Councilor?”
“My point is that for the foreseeable future it could actually be easier to hide in the Getties. Besides, if we don’t help the Gors now, they will leave us. Can we afford to start over without them?”
“It might be nice to have fewer mouths to feed. Besides, just because we’re allies now, doesn’t mean the Gors won’t become our enemies in a hundred years, or even a thousand. For all we know they’ll be our ultimate undoing, not the Sythians.”
“That’s a lot of supposition, Captain, but I have another suggestion. We’re already aware that there are a number of extra-galactic planets and star systems lurking in the nebula between our two galaxies, and those star systems are even less likely to be found and explored by Sythians than systems they have already explored in their own galaxy. While we travel to Noctune, we can stop off and check out some of the extra-galactics that the Imperium already cataloged.
“Cataloged but not explored,” Covani clarified. “We don’t know what’s out there.”
“Exactly! If we knew about those systems for countless centuries without even bothering to explore them, it’s because we had plenty of other systems to explore closer at hand. We went to the Getties before we explored the systems lying along the way.”
Covani looked thoughtful. “That is actually a promising place to start.”
“Of course it is! So . . . do you want me to tell Torv the good news, or are you going to?”
“I’ll sleep on it.”
“You’ll . . .”
“Madam Councilor, we are in no position to be making such crucial decisions about the future of the human race when we haven’t slept more than a few hours in the last two days.”
Destra opened her mouth to object, but Covani waved her objection away while chewing his last morsel of rehydrated meat. “We’ll reconvene here one hour before reversion to real space. By then I should have an answer ready for you and the Gors.”
“Captain, may I remind you that the Admiral left me in charge?”
“And the admiral is not here. Nor will he ever be here again. I am sorry for your loss, Ma’am. I have nothing but respect for the admiral, but his widowed wife has no business making tactical decisions that affect the survival of our species.”
“Widowed wife . . .” Destra’s face turned red and the veins began standing out on her forehead. “I’m also the Councilor of Karpathia and the next in line for command of the Imperium.”
“Councilor is a civil rank, not a military one. The Imperium no longer exists, but my ship does, and you have no business commanding it. I might also point out, Miss Heston, that you were only recently appointed to office, and it may be argued that the only reason you were appointed at all was because your late husband was ruling the Imperium at the time.”
“How dare you!” Destra rose to her feet, her hands balled into fists. “And it’s still Mrs Heston, thank you.”
“Ma’am. Please return to your quarters and get some sleep. I will announce my decision one hour before reversion. Dismissed.”
“You can’t dismiss me. I’m not one of your crew.”
“At this point, Ma’am, even the prisoners are a part of my crew, and I can dismiss whoever I like.” He rose to his feet, his tangerine eyes glittering in the low light of his office.
Destra glared daggers at him. She considered popping his self-important bubble by telling him that the surviving remnants of humanity were a lot bigger than him and his ship, but Avilon and its location was her secret weapon, and it wouldn’t be wise to reveal that yet.
“Good night, Covani,” she said, and turned to l
eave his office, her head full of bitter thoughts.
* * *
As the tour of Etheria ended, the air bus left the main stream of traffic and began dropping straight down. Ethan watched out the window as they fell past countless dozens of floors. Shadows crept as they descended, flickering past the bus like living things. Darkness gathered despite the dazzling light pouring from the bottom of each level of elevated streets. Soon Ethan could see the fuzzy blue glow of the Styx swelling up beneath them. That hazy blue shield wall was noticeably dimmer than the one above them, as though Omnius didn’t want to give the Nulls any more light than was absolutely necessary.
The bus came to a sudden stop, which they all saw, but none of them felt thanks to the vehicle’s inertial management system.
They sat in an apprehensive silence, waiting. Ethan listened to the faint hum from the bus’s grav lifts, to the air whooshing from climate control vents overhead. The only sign of life inside the bus was the occasional rustle of fabric from the white celestial robes they all still wore. Master Blue Cape had long since stopped pointing out the sights, which Ethan found to be a relief. The man’s gravelly voice was almost as irritating as he was.
“What’s the delay?” someone asked, breaking the silence.
“We have to pass a customs check to make sure our vehicle isn’t carrying any illegal items into the Null Zone,” Blue Cape replied from the front of the bus.
Silence reigned once more.
“What did you see down there?” Alara whispered beside him.
“I already told you,” he replied. “It’s like Dark Space, but worse. Omnius took me to some place called the Grunge. Everyone down there was living in free housing, living off free food and other things that Omnius recycles from the city’s garbage.”
Alara nodded absently, and Ethan looked out the side window of the bus—only to find that something was looking back at him. A silver ball with one bright red eye in its center hovered just outside the window, watching him.
“What the frek?”
All around him others were having similar reactions, and Alara, who was sitting closest to their window suddenly leaned as far over into his lap as she could.
“What is it?”
“Do not be alarmed,” Rovik said. “They are the drones who will scan our vehicle before we are permitted into the Null Zone.”
Up till now Ethan had only seen Omnius’s drones—or Omnies—in their vaguely humanoid form. Now, as he looked more closely, he realized that these bots were identical to the other ones, or rather, to their heads. Apparently they could detach from their bodies and fly around for greater mobility.
Suddenly the red eye staring at them burned bright red, dazzling Ethan’s eyes. His ARCs adjusted a second too late, polarizing to protect his eyes. Red light flickered through the bus, and Ethan turned to see more drones looking in from the other side. He felt his skin grow warm and begin to tingle, and then the light was gone, plunging the inside of the bus into a sudden darkness. His ARCs brightened once more, but by the time the spots cleared from his vision, the drones were already gone.
The bus began descending, and Ethan leaned over Alara to get a closer look out the window. He saw that the hexagonal segment of the shield directly below the bus had been deactivated to let them through.
Moments later they passed below the shield and the segment flickered back to life overhead. The light emitted from the bottom of the shield was a dim blue, unlike the dazzling brightness they’d seen from beneath the Celestial Wall.
In an attempt to make up for that, lights from passing windows and strips of external glow panels shone out from the buildings, casting the under city in a dim, multi-colored gloom.
“Welcome to the Null Zone,” Rovik said. The bus continued slowly downward, and the Peacekeeper launched into a description of life in the Null Zone. Ethan had already guessed at most of it. Unlike the upper cities, the Null Zone did not benefit from free health care, education, or equal opportunity. It was run by an elected government, and the economy was free market and privately-run. Unemployment was high—about 10%. Birth rates were low, and the population would be shrinking without immigrants from the Uppers. Despite that, rent was not cheap, and space was at a premium. Organized crime was creeping in at the lowest levels, taking over abandoned sectors. Making matters worse, the upper class was hogging all the more desirable space higher up in the Null Zone.
Social programs and charities, funded and put in place mostly by Omnius, were what people fell back on if they couldn’t look after themselves. Reference was made to what Ethan had already witnessed—recycling programs that made food and other basic necessities freely available to even the poorest citizens.
Crime was on the rise. Local enforcers—the Nulls’ version of the Peacekeepers—were corrupt and underpaid, and they tended not to patrol below level ten. If they did, it was with one eye shut. Anything below level ten was considered a red zone, and the sub levels were either abandoned or home to various crime lords and their gangs. A tenuous balance existed between law-abiding citizens and criminal organizations.
Underpinning all the crime was the distribution and sale of a super drug, a synthetic performance enhancer called Bliss.
Ethan grimaced as he heard that. He’d already had a taste of the stuff, and based on the way it had made him feel, he wondered why anyone would ever want to take it again.
“Despite Bliss being illegal, you’ll find plenty of users are respectable citizens living in the upper levels. The drug makes them better at what they do, so they keep using, but every now and then someone stops taking it because they can’t afford to keep dosing. Go too long between doses and you damage your brain. Do that enough, and you’ll wind up no better than a simple-minded beast.”
Ethan wasn’t surprised that the rich had a lock on Bliss, but in a way it made them responsible for all of the crime and corruption in the lower levels. Without users there’d be no demand and no one would bother to illegally traffic the supply. King-pins and their organizations would shrivel up and die. Of course, that was just a fantasy. People wouldn’t stop using Bliss just to eradicate crime.
The bus continued drifting down, and a level of elevated streets came into view below them. Ethan noticed that the street was lit with glow lamps, and the pedestrians all seemed to be well-dressed. The faces of the buildings were neat and recently painted, and the architecture was suitably grand and ornate. He felt a spark of hope lighten his spirits. Maybe living in the Null Zone wouldn’t be so bad?
As they dropped below that level, however, things quickly became worse. Paint peeled from walls, curtains took the place of the more expensive reflective coating on windows, allowing them to see straight into a few apartments. Cheap, ugly-looking black bars caged every window, and balconies disappeared entirely.
Ethan wondered how far down they were, and his ARC display reacted to that thought by producing a small cross section of the Null Zone showing their current location. The bus was represented by a green dot, seen descending slowly past level 21.
As soon as they reached level 15 a dense, dirty gray fog crept in, making the city even darker than it had been before. Ethan grimaced. The light shining out from the windows of nearby buildings became all but lost in the swirling clouds of gritty moisture. As they dropped below level 10, the light diminished even further, and only the occasional fuzzy white or golden glow still bloomed through the mist. Either not many people lived down here, or the residents were afraid to advertise that they were there.
Ethan estimated that another minute or two passed with them drifting down through the fog before something changed. Suddenly the window he was looking out turned a blurry blue, and the fog peeled away, as if blown by a giant’s breath. The fog stopped retreating at a set distance of just a few meters from the bus. There, holding it at bay, was the blurry blue barrier he’d seen before. It was a shield of some kind. The ground swirled into view, and fog billowed out beneath the bus as the shield pushed it away. The
n they stopped and hovered just a few feet above the ground.
Rovik turned to them and said, “Whatever you see, please remember, we’re perfectly safe in here.”
With that warning, the bus began moving forward again. Alara’s nails bit into Ethan’s arm. He reached for her hand to keep her from doing any serious damage.
The bus went slowly, giving their imaginations time to populate the shifting shadows with hideous monsters. The occasional fuzzy glow bloomed in the darkness, giving just enough light to paint more shadows against the swirling clouds of gray mist. Ethan was sure the shadows were just his imagination, until he began to see those shadows converge. They swarmed toward the bus. Ethan’s heart beat faster, and the bus slowed down.
“Ah, Blue . . .” Ethan said.
Around them others were murmuring with concern, and Alara was back to digging her nails into his arm—this time with both hands. “Hey, Blue!” Ethan said. “Any particular reason why we’re slowing down?”
“Do not be alarmed,” Rovik replied. “Omnius wants you to see this.”
Then, as if it had all been perfectly staged, the shadows took form, and the bus’s running lights splashed them with color. Bedraggled masses of people came wandering out of the darkness, blinking against the light, stumbling about as if in a daze. They were a disorganized mob dressed with ragged scraps of clothing, a sea of bony arms and legs. They came toward the bus like moths to a flame, mesmerized by the light. Ethan watched them approach, horrified by the sight of them. He’d seen Psychos before, but not like this, not so close.
“Ethan . . .” Alara began, her grip tightening still further.
He winced, suddenly reminded of what it felt like to hold a pregnant woman’s hand while she was in labor. “Relax, we’re safe in here.”
“Then why are they still coming?”
Ethan shook his head, unable to answer that. Despite the shield, they saw the bedraggled masses step right through it, as though it were nothing.
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