by J. N. Chaney
She looked up at me. “Didn’t you ever read them?”
“I heard of it, but never read any myself.”
“Too busy stealing, were you?” she asked with a laugh, then squeezed my knee. “No matter. They were only children’s stories.”
“But not to you,” I corrected.
She nodded. “I read them whenever I was alone and needed an escape. We didn’t have very many books with dragons in them.”
“No offense to your childhood, but I hope we don’t get any dragons out of this. Seems like a nuisance.”
She laughed. “I suppose they would be, wouldn’t they? Flying around and shooting fire. But the ones in the stories were good, I think, and they helped people. You could even ride them.”
“That’s more like it,” I said.
Lex came running up from the beach, a wide grin of satisfaction on her face. “What are you talking about?” She leaned forward on her knees, breathing heavily.
“Just dragons,” I said.
“Dragons?” asked the girl, curiously. “What are those?”
“You haven’t heard of dragons before?” asked Abigail.
Lex shook her head.
“Well, they’re very scary. Isn’t that right, Jace?” she asked.
I nodded. “Sure are.”
“Really?” asked Lex, dropping her mouth.
“Mhm,” said Abby. “And they’re really big.”
Lex looked at me for confirmation. “It’s true,” I told her.
“No way,” she muttered, almost in awe.
“They fly around with great, big wings and chase after anyone they don’t like with their horrible claws,” explained Abby. She eased forward, raising her arms into the air above her head, pretending they were claws.
She lunged playfully at Lex, who laughed and scooted backward.
Abby jumped up and started chasing Lex down to the water’s edge, both of them laughing so much they could hardly keep their pace.
I leaned back and watched them, not afraid to let myself smile a little. Octavia had been right about taking a break, although I’d never tell her so.
There was a sudden click in my ear, followed by Alphonse’s voice. “Captain?”
“What is it, Al?” I asked, sitting back up.
“Ah, pardon the interruption, but Sigmond and I have been analyzing that signal from the slip tunnel. Suffice it to say, but we think we’ve found something.”
“Have you now?” I asked, easing myself to my feet.
“We still can’t place the origin of it, but sensors confirm it isn’t one of ours or Gaia’s.”
“Hold on,” I told him, placing the call on mute. Abigail stood near the water, holding Lex’s hand. The two of them were laughing as the tide swept against their feet. I waved to get their attention. “What’s say we call it a night? It’s getting late.”
“Already?” asked Lex, instantly disappointed.
Abigail’s smile faded as she looked at me. “What is it?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing serious. I just need to get back. Alphonse wants to have a word.”
She paused, but then bent down and smiled at Lex. “Ready to go home?”
“Do we have to?” asked Lex, frowning.
“We can come back in a few days,” assured Abby.
Lex glanced at me. “Really? All of us?”
“Whatever you want, kid,” I answered.
She smiled again. “Okay!”
We filed into the shuttle, which I’d parked about fifty meters from the beach. As we lifted off the ground, the light of the moon glittered against the waves. It had been a peaceful few hours, the smiles of my girls an important reminder of why all of this work was necessary.
* * *
“Break it down for us, Al,” I said, sitting in my office with Abigail, the Constable, and Sigmond.
Alphonse tapped his pad and brought up a three-dimensional image of the Earth’s core on my desk’s holo. One section lit up in red. “This is where the station crashed,” explained Alphonse. He tapped his pad again, lighting up multiple dots along the outer walls. “These are the escape pods.”
At the center of the core, I could see a blue fog, representing the slip tunnel. It was larger than I remembered.
“Now, observe the signal,” said Alphonse.
An orange wave appeared, originating along the wall of the core and extending into the slip tunnel. It was nowhere near any of the escape pods or the crash site.
“I don’t get it,” I said, staring at the image. “Who is sending this?”
“We don’t know,” admitted Alphonse.
“What’s in the transmission?” asked Abigail.
“We don’t know,” he repeated.
“I’m sensing a pattern,” I said.
“There are some things we do know,” remarked Sigmond. “For example, the signal is being transmitted into the tunnel on a continuous loop, which persists even after the tunnel’s closure.”
“You say that like it’s supposed to mean something,” said Abigail. “Do those facts lead you to a conclusion?”
Sigmond beamed at the question. “They very well may, Ms. Pryar. Because it persists, we believe the signal may be automated, perhaps originating at a standalone repeater that is too small to detect.”
“In other words,” continued Alphonse. “The source could be somewhere else, outside of this region.”
“But you can’t be sure,” I added.
“Correct,” said Sigmond.
Alphonse continued. “Once we locate the device, whether it is a transponder or a simple repeater, solving the puzzle should be a simple task.” He stepped closer to the desk, eying the holo with a slant in his brow. “It’s very curious.”
“Maybe Leif can shed some light on this,” said Abigail.
“I’m sure he could,” said Alphonse.
“But you don’t think we should ask him,” I said, detecting a hint of pessimism in the Constable’s tone.
“You’d be right about that, Captain,” he replied. “While it may give us a more immediate answer, we have no way of knowing if it is the truth. Consider this: we approach Mr. Solesdar about our situation and inquire as to the nature of said signal. He feigns his ignorance on the matter and plays the fool. Not only have we given away what we have learned, but now he knows we’re onto him. He can disable the transponder and completely sever our investigation before it truly gets underway.”
“You think he’d do that?” I asked, having a hard time believing the Eternal had it in him. Then again, I barely knew the man, and I didn’t know much about his people. Only that they were afraid of what lay on the other side of that slip tunnel. Even then, I was going off nothing more than their word. For all I knew, every last bit of it could have been a lie.
“I believe Mr. Solesdar has been truthful with us, at least insofar as he is willing,” remarked Alphonse. “Still, there is always a chance that the unlikeliest of scenarios is true.”
“Which is?” I asked.
“That our man isn’t at all what he espouses himself to be, and that he is, in reality, misleading us into believing a very hard lie,” said the Constable. “That we’re all being played for fools, and that the Eternals, for all their cautionary tales, are not the victims they would have us believe, but the true aggressors, looking to seize this world for themselves.”
The room fell deathly silent as the words settled in the air. The thought that Leif and his people could be lying had crossed my mind, but only briefly. Given their willingness to integrate into our society, their eagerness to help, and the loss of life that they underwent, I had little reason to suspect them of such a crime.
But Eternals had built this world, turned it into what it was, and expelled my ancestors from its land. Despite what any of us would like to believe, there was a historical divide between us. If Leif and his people remembered that, if they had held onto it, Alphonse’s fears could very well prove true.
All I could do
was prepare for the worst and hope it wasn’t true. Paranoia had kept me alive, back when I was a working Renegade. Trust no one, except yourself, and always keep a gun beside your bed. I’d hoped those days were over, but it seems running a colony was no different from dealing with the smugglers and crooks. You still had to watch for the inevitable knife in your back.
“You don’t really believe that,” said Abigail.
Alphonse tilted his head. “I never believe anything fully, nor would I suggest that you do. What I do believe is that there is always a possibility, and it is because of that possibility that I push for caution.”
“Caution,” I muttered, chewing on the word. I could scarcely believe what I was hearing, but I also couldn’t deny the possibility. As far as we’d come, we couldn’t risk any of it on good faith. I liked Leif, and I wanted to believe he was a good man, but I also couldn’t gamble the future of this colony on that feeling. “We’ll keep this to ourselves for now,” I finally said, looking at each of them. “Siggy, Al, I want you to keep looking into this. Don’t concern yourselves with anything else until you figure out what this signal is and where it’s coming from. Once we know more about what this is, we’ll share it with Leif and the rest of the colony.”
“As you wish, sir,” replied Sigmond.
I released everyone for the night. Abby and I returned to her apartment, mostly silent on the walk. Neither of us felt comfortable with the knowledge we’d just learned. “You don’t think all of that is true, do you?” Abby finally asked once we were inside the door. She had to whisper for fear of waking Lex, who was sound asleep in the neighboring room.
“Of course not,” I told her. “Al is only being cautious.”
“I know that but still,” she went on. “You don’t think there’s a chance of it, do you? That we’ve been nursing these people back to health, only for them to turn on us?”
I paused at the question, not knowing how to answer. I opened my mouth, only to have the image of the boy in the med-pod flash in my mind. I’d forgotten how close Abby had grown to these people, assisting in the medical ward. She’d probably talked with all of them at some point or another, learning their names and stories. Not like me, spending all my time in my office or going from one group to the next, checking in with team leaders to coordinate the integration. No, Abby had taken a more direct path, sitting with the most fragile of them, seeing them in their worst moments. The idea that those same people could soon become her enemy must have felt like a weight against her chest.
I felt like a fool for not seeing it sooner.
“I don’t think it’s true,” I said, taking her hand in mine. “I’d bet we’re looking at nothing. Maybe some kind of broken piece of the station.”
“But the things Alphonse said—”
“He’s a Constable,” I reminded her. “He’s a trained skeptic. That’s his whole shtick.”
She paused, processing everything, and then nodded. “Okay, right,” she said at last and smiled as she gripped my hand. “Time for bed. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”
“Sure do,” I agreed, and I watched her turn and head to her room. With her back to me, she removed her jacket and shirt, finally glancing over her shoulder with a look that suggested I should hurry and do the same.
I quickly followed, sliding close behind her, and wrapping my hands around her sides. With a gentle kiss along her neck, we slid into the bed, off to better thoughts.
Six
I slept deep that night, waking from a dreamless rest to an empty bed. The light broke through the window and made me wince as it hit my eyes. I turned on my side, toward the darker half of the room, and noticed Abigail had opened her dresser. She must have already left for work.
I tapped my ear. “Siggy, what’s on my schedule today?”
“Nothing for the next hour, sir,” replied Sigmond, immediately. “At that time, you’re to meet with Mr. Solesdar and Dr. Hitchens to discuss the construction of a second farm.”
“That’s right,” I remembered, stretching out my feet and arms. Hitchens had made the request shortly after we began integrating the Eternals into the colony. It was next on the priority list, now that we’d handled job assignments, living arrangements, and, most importantly, closed the slip tunnel.
“Guess I’ll grab some coffee,” I said, twisting around and plopping my feet on the floor.
“Understood, sir. I’ll let them know to meet you in your office,” said Sigmond.
“That’ll work,” I said, opening up my personal drawer—the one Abby had given after my sixth or seventh night here. I only kept two sets of clothes in it at any given time. No sense in having more than that, since I already had a place of my own.
I pulled out a spare shirt and threw it on, followed by yesterday’s pants. Once I was ready, I left the apartment and headed for the stairs, making my way down to the bottom floor and out into the street.
The cafeteria was right around the corner from our apartment building. Not a bad walk when it was early in the morning or late at night and you wanted an easy meal or a quick drink.
The sun had eased even higher above the horizon by the time I was outside. Judging from the heat, today was set to be a hot one, which was fine. I’d take a scorcher over a blizzard any day of the week, especially after the experience I had on that frozen tundra of a world, back where we found Karin and her clan.
Thinking about it now, I couldn’t help but feel all the more thankful for being on a world as comfortable as this one. For all our luck, the Earth could’ve been a hellscape, barely habitable or hospitable. Sure, we had to deal with the trilobites and a hollowed-out core, but all things considered, it could have been worse.
About fifteen or so colonists had gathered outside the cafeteria, many of them with plates of breakfast as they prepared to head off to their daily jobs. Jobs that would help the colony prosper and grow into something they could all be proud of. Maybe that explained the smiles on their faces and the laughter that now filled the street as I passed by them. All of these people were needed, each one of them a valued member of the group. That was something I’d grown to appreciate about this place.
We all had our roles to play. We all had a purpose.
Inside the building, I received several hellos and how-are-yous from familiar faces, as was often the case whenever I walked around the city. I couldn’t say I was a fan of the attention, but at least the new arrivals had stopped treating me like The Renegade—the myth of a man who defeated the Union in a single, glorious blow—and more like Captain Hughes, the gruff colony administrator with too much crap on his plate. I would’ve preferred a little more anonymity, but I’d take whatever reprieve I could get. It was better than them ogling and staring at me all day.
I found the coffee dispenser, which I’d brought here on special order during the last trip to the Deadlands. There was no greater asset to a burgeoning colony than a high-grade coffeemaker that could reinvigorate and motivate the workforce.
Or so I had told Abigail when I asked her to bring it back.
With a fresh cup in my hand and the threat of conversation looming the longer I stuck around this place, I quickly made my way back out into the street.
According to the clock, I still had thirty minutes to kill before the meeting. Enough time to take a walk and wake up, I decided.
I could either go to the medical ward and check in with Abigail, maybe see how our regenerating little friend in the pod was doing with his arm or go somewhere else. When I thought about how busy it had been the last time I was there, I figured I’d leave well enough alone and stay out of their hair. Abby and Octavia probably had their hands full, all things considered.
Before I knew it, I’d walked to the edge of the city overlooking the western horizon. I hadn’t intended to come here, but it was just as good a place as any, to fill my belly with caffeine and be alone.
I leaned against the nearest building, one of the many we hadn’t yet cleared out and breathed in the stea
m from my cup. So much useless furniture and other miscellaneous garbage filled the old structure, it seemed like more trouble than it was worth to empty and repurpose. That wasn’t to say that we’d never get around to it, but priorities were priorities, and we had other things to think about right now.
That was usually the case for most of my to-do list. Once I finished a task, six more would pop up to take its place, each one just as important as the last. I kept telling myself that eventually, we’d get through everything, but the work just kept on coming.
Then again, I supposed anything that was worth doing had always felt like that in the beginning. Back when I was a kid on Epsy, dreaming of being a Renegade, everything always seemed so far out of reach that it was really more of a fairytale fantasy than anything else.
I always had to bury my own doubt—tell myself I could make it as long as I just kept going—but when you’re so far from the goal, you begin to doubt you’ll ever make it to the end. Then, you take that first step, followed by the next, and eventually you look back to see you’ve traveled farther than you realized.
That was how I felt right now, imagining the face of the boy I used to be—the little wannabe thief, running jobs with his prepubescent crew. Bunch of fools, we were, but I was glad to have them.
“How’s the view today, Captain?” called a voice from behind me. I turned to see Freddie walking in my direction, smiling his usual grin. I was surprised to see he was alone, considering how attached he’d become with Petra. In the days since her accident, he’d barely left her side.
“Looks alright, I guess,” I said, casting my eyes to the brown and gray valley beneath us. “Could use a little more green, though.”
“You’re not wrong about that,” he agreed, walking up beside me. “Has Gaia said anything about when we’ll see some plant life? It sure would help the scenery.”
“She’s clueless,” I said, bluntly. I took a sip of my coffee, letting out a short gasp of satisfaction as the sweet, delicious drug ran down my throat.
“I was just on my way to meet Petra,” said Freddie.
“Of course, you were,” I said.
