The Elitist Supremacy

by Niranjan K

  “I know Alexander,” Sergio spoke complacently now, confidently. “He has been hooked. He will do this.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” Zain couldn’t believe Sergio could be so blind. “Sergio, we have survived so long and have managed to help so many people, have helped hide them from the State not by being complacent, but by always being prepared for the worst and having plans in place to handle that.” he paused, but Sergio was silent and so he continued. “All I’m asking is if the worst happens here, what is our plan? We’ve sunk our last Divit into building that device. We cannot sell it commercially. If we don’t get at least our investment back, then we can’t help any more people. We can stay here, stay hidden, and talk, but that’s all. We need funds, and we’ve taken a gamble because you assured us it would work, but we still need an insurance, Sergio. That’s all I’m asking. An insurance in case Selwood decides he doesn’t want to be in business with Raul.”

  Zain hated it, hated that they would need to force someone into helping them, but they were desperate. He needed Sergio to see that.

  “Sergio,” he said, his tone gentle. “I’m sorry to put this on you, but you know our cause is more important than us. Your family gave their lives for it as did mine. Ask yourself if protecting this one man is more important than all the people we would be able to help.”

  “I was broken, almost starving,” Sergio said, his voice hollow. “Selwood Corp was a new company then, only around two years old, and I approached him... told him I can’t tell him anything about my past... I asked him to give me a job... told him I was qualified, though I had nothing to prove it...and he did. He gave me a job, asked me no questions. Gave me a place to live in, Whatever I know of him... he told me in confidence, because he trusted me... and you’re asking me to betray him?”

  Sergio looked haggard, lost, and Zain hated himself. Yet, he had no choice. Lives depended on him. He was the leader of the Resistance. People expected him to help them. They trusted him, and that was a trust he could not break.

  “I’m sorry,” Zain said. “I don’t pretend to understand what this means to you, or what you feel right now, but just ask yourself what is the right thing to do. At least, think about it, Sergio.”

  Sergio made no answer, but sat there like a crumpled doll, his head down and his entire body sagging.

  Fifteen

  Alexander’s lips were thin as he finished watching the playback of the conversation between Sergio and Zain Baako. He had heard of Baako. The State called him a terrorist, but the man he had seen was far from that. Not that he was better. He might not be a terrorist, but he was certainly not above using emotional blackmail to attain his ends. Wasn’t it just like the Resistance? They were just as bad as the State, betraying their own for their own ends, untrustworthy and uncaring about anyone. He wasn’t foolish enough to think Baako’s concern for the people they were supposedly helping was genuine. The man simply knew how to act.

  If only he could trust Sergio. Sergio who had once been strong, who would never have considered betraying him, or lying to him. But that man was gone, and only the shell remained, a pathetic, whimpering shadow of the man he once was. Alexander hadn’t survived by trusting shadows. Sergio might be reluctant now, but Baako’s words had touched him. Even from the footage, Alexander could see that. He would go home and those words would stay inside him and fester, and he would convince himself that Baako was right; he would talk himself into believing he was doing the right thing as he betrayed Alexander.

  That could not be allowed to happen. Alexander didn’t care about the right thing. He hadn’t given a job to Sergio out of altruistic motives. He had come out of hiding after a long while and he had been lonely, and when Sergio had approached him with his own secrets, with a past he could not talk about, he had recognised a kindred spirit. Or perhaps he had talked himself into believing Sergio was a kindred spirit. He was not, as was evident. He had never cut his ties to the past. They still kept him captive.

  Alexander was not a hasty man, however. He knew what he had to do, and he would do it without a second thought if it became necessary, but he was not going to do it until it became so.

  “Quinn?” He said. “Do we have any Zhidium stored in Nishati?”

  “Yes, Mr. Selwood,” Quinn said. “Do you want me to retrieve it?”

  “Not yet,” Alexander said. “I need you to have a look at this.”

  He took out the device from his pocket, the tiny device that Beltram had built, that the Resistance had bankrupted itself for, on a gamble that Alexander would build their headquarters for them. More fools they.

  “Analyse it, and I want you to modify that technology a bit.”

  He was going to give it back to Beltram in the morning, but not before he cloned a modified version. He opened his pad, and pulled up a holographic display consisting of random numbers and letters.

  “Change this,” he said, as the sequence rearranged itself, “to this. Can you do that?”

  “May I ask the purpose for the modification, Mr. Selwood?” Quinn asked, disapproval patent in his tone.

  “You know,” Alexander said.

  “It still won’t be safe,” Quinn warned.

  “I know,” Alexander said. “But it will be safe for me. After all, this tech can have an application like this too.”

  “Very well, Mr. Selwood,” Quinn said.

  It was surprising how long suffering he sounded when his tone remained the exact same monotone it had ever been.

  Alexander paced his room while Quinn worked. He didn’t know how long he paced before his pad beeped. It was a call from Vivi. He answered it.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “Good, you’re up,” Vivi sounded brisk. “We’re all leaving for the spaceport. Just thought I’d inform you. Told Miley not to let it ring unless you were already up. Also, now that we’re all sober, and free of hangovers, are there any last minute instructions for us?”

  “Vivi,” Alexander said. “I don’t think this is the right direction for our company. I know the test has been a success, but a planet-wide project could stretch even us. Plus Oleg has been giving me dark looks ever since I ran the figures by him. All those surveys notwithstanding, I can’t see people wanting to come and live here. I just can’t.”

  “To be perfectly honest,” Vivi said. “Neither can I. If they did, though...”

  “An “if” is not good enough for a risk of this magnitude.” Alexander said. “Tell our people that we won’t be going in for this partnership. I’ll talk to Beltram and see if he has something more to offer, but only because you want to build habitats.”

  Vivi chuckled. “You’re the boss,”

  As soon as the call disconnected, Quinn said. “There’s a call for you from Ms. Duran.”

  Alexander frowned. What did Isabel want with him? And so early in the morning too. He sat down on a couch, feeling the ache in his muscles from all the pacing. Was he this out of shape?

  “Connect the call to the monitor, Quinn, and please bring me some coffee,” he said with a yawn.

  Isabel’s face was on the monitor and she looked awful. Her make up was smudged, and there were shadows under her eyes. She was wearing the same dress she had on last night which suggested that she hadn’t been to bed.

  “Mr. Sel- Alexander,” she said, relief flooding her features. “I didn’t think you’d be up. I’m sorry for disturbing you like this, but I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “Isabel,” he said, not in the mood for digressions. “What is it?”

  “Raul isn’t back yet,” she said. “I’m... I’m afraid. This planet... what if something has happened to him?”

  Her voice choked on the last and a sheen of tears appeared over her eyes, glittering like diamonds.

  “I’m sure he’s okay,” Alexander said soothingly. Probably, Raul hadn’t been able to pacify ‘Lucas Hendriks’ yet. “But if it would put your mind at ease, I shall ask Quinn to search for him.”

  “Can Quinn do t
hat?” She looked hopeful, and a lot younger than her 27 years.

  “We have a DNA sample of Raul’s available from when we had to submit it for the approvals,” Alexander said. “Quinn can track him with that.”

  “Thank you,” she said, looking absurdly relieved. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but I don’t know anyone else here except Sergio and he has already left.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said, thinking Raul was a lucky bastard. “I’ll call you back as soon as I find him.”

  He terminated the call and picked up the mug of coffee Quinn had brought.

  “Quinn,” he said. “Can you track Raul Beltram, please? Where is he?”

  He wished that DNA tracking came with an audio visual recording too. He would have enjoyed watching Raul try and restrain ‘Lucas Hendriks’ from running off to Prith.

  “Mr. Beltram is in a vehicle between Ytres and here,” Quinn said. “The vehicle is moving towards Nges.”

  “Is he hurt?”

  “He appears to be unharmed.” Quinn sounded stiffer than usual.

  Alexander rolled his eyes. Quinn was still sulking.

  “Thank you, Quinn,” he said. “Please call, Miss Duran.”

  Isabel’s nervous face was on the screen.

  “He’s on his way,” Alexander said. “Quinn says he’s fine.”

  “Thank you,” she said, looking disproportionately grateful. He gave her a perfunctory smile that he hoped was soothing as he disconnected the call.

  “Is it ready, Quinn?” he asked. “The tech?”

  “It’s going to take another two hours.” Quinn said.

  “Wake me when it’s done,” Alexander rose and climbed on to the bed. “And turn off the lights.”

  He was asleep within moments.

  Sixteen

  It was difficult to determine dawn on Ignis, and Raul had no idea what time it was when he finally left Ytres and entered the hovercar to take him back to Nges. The habitats had a built in system by which the 28 hour cycle was maintained, but outside the habitats, it was difficult to get a fix on the time. It was also possible that Ignis had a shorter or longer duration for days and nights. Prith and Aeras both had 28 hour cycles or something approximating it, but Hafi had a longer span of 32 hours, and it was equally likely for Ignis to have a different duration as well. He couldn’t remember reading anything about it. Any of the people he had just left could have probably told him.

  Raul was exhausted, both physically and mentally. The past few weeks had been stressful, to say the least, and he should have been celebrating last night with Isabel, and instead, he had to spend the entire night trying to convince Lucas not to throw away everything they’d ever worked for. To be fair, he knew that Lucas had justification, but he had also been part of the Resistance long enough to know that sometimes they had to put personal feelings aside, and think logically.

  Lucas had wanted to go to Prith immediately, and get Niek. Failing that, he had wanted Amir to breach the database containing the details of all wards of the State and find out where Niek was. It had taken all three of them to convince Lucas that such an act would be suicidal in the extreme. Amir might be the best at what he did, but even he wouldn't be able to breach the Central Console, certainly not without leaving a trace. That could lead the State directly to Ignis, and to them. Finally, it was Joyce pointing out that he would be putting his son in danger as well that had seemed to convince Lucas.

  Raul sighed, rubbing his hand over his eyes. The hovercar had a modified form of the habitat technology, thanks to Joyce, and he could not feel the heat, but he was feeling so completely drained that all he wanted was to get back to his room and sleep until it was time for his flight. Even now, he could not be certain that Lucas wouldn't do anything drastic. Raul had told Lucas he would meet with Niek again and find out the name of his guardian, and finalise a plan for getting him to Ignis. It would not be correct to say Lucas had calmed down, but he had certainly been more amenable to reason after that. He’d given Raul one week, and in view of Niek’s threat to report him if he ever went near him, that was going to be an uphill task.

  He grimaced as he thought of Isabel and her reaction. He was almost certain he had left her alone the entire night, and it was not fair to her. If she was angry, he would not blame her, but he also knew that he was not in the right mindset to deal with her anger patiently. He yawned, and rubbed his hand across his eyes again. He was feeling so sleepy that all he wanted to do was to curl up here on the seat of the hovercar and sleep.

  He stumbled out of the car, and into the building, his feet guiding him to his room.

  “Hi da’l’ng,” he mumbled, “S’ry I’m s’late,” before stumbling into the bed, still fully clothed and was out like a light.

  When he opened his eyes, he was between the sheets, and his shoes and tie were off. He sat up, yawning. Isabel was not in the room.

  “578, what is the time?”

  “It’s 1130, sir.”

  He fell back on the sheets. His flight was at 2130 in the evening. Plenty of time. But he was no longer sleepy. He sat up.

  “578, please bring me a cup of coffee,”

  He wondered if he should ask where Isabel was, but refrained. She wouldn't like it, and he didn’t want to spy on her in any case. He only hoped she would have calmed down by now.

  Isabel came in as he was having his coffee, and sat near the window, watching him. Probably because there was nothing out there to watch. The same dreary landscape stretched wherever he could see, all rock and sand and emptiness.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, when it became apparent that she wasn’t going to say anything.

  “So am I,” she responded.

  “Lucas was...” He sighed, remembering that she didn’t know Lucas. He placed his empty coffee mug on the side table and got out of bed. “I don’t know how to explain this, but-”

  “You don’t need to explain,” she interrupted. “It must have been important, or you would not have been out all night,”

  He sighed. “Isabel, I’m really sorry.” He went to her, and fell on his knees beside her. “This isn’t how I wanted to spend my time either.”

  “I told you it’s all right,” she said stiffly. “Your cause is important to you. I get that. I suppose I better start getting used to being relegated to the background in your life.”

  “Isabel,” he took her hands in his. “I want to share my life with you. You’re not going to be in the background. Yesterday was a special case.”

  “Of course,” she said. “And I’m certain that such cases will come again. Let’s face it, Raul. I’m not as important to you as whatever it is that you’re doing.”

  She was still speaking calmly, as if they were discussing the morning news. Raul sighed.

  “Isabel,” he said, placing his head on her lap, and looking up at her face. “Isabel, you’re the most important person, the most important thing in my life right now. If I don’t share something, or keep something from you, it’s because I don’t want to risk you.”

  “Raul,” she said, her voice still cold, but her eyes had softened slightly. “I am perfectly capable of deciding if I want to take a risk. That’s my decision, not yours.”

  “I know that, but you see, I don’t have the strength or courage to risk you. I know it’s not fair to you, perhaps, but-”

  He was probably making things worse, but she didn’t look as angry, so perhaps not?

  “Stop,” she said, looking amused now. “You’re really bad at explanations and even worse at apologies, you know.”

  He straightened and kissed her. “I know.”

  “I didn’t say I’d forgiven you,” she said primly, but she was smiling.

  “I know,” he said again, smiling back at her.

  Seventeen

  The house looked the same as when he’d left it, and yet, Sergio could feel a prickle down his spine. It was an instinct developed over the years, and he felt certain that he was not alone in the house. He dr
opped his bags, and stood there, debating what to do. Should he call the Defenders or handle it himself? He was not feeling up to handling anything by himself. He was tired after the nearly 17 hours of interplanetary travel. Even when staying inside the habitats, Ignis sapped one.

  “June,” he said. “Who’s there in the house? Why didn’t you alert me to the presence of intruders?”

  “There are no intruders,” June replied tonelessly. “You are alone, Mr. Martinez.”

  Sergio’s frown deepened. Were his instincts wrong? It was possible that he was on edge after the long day before and the exhausting journey. After all, he was not as young as he once was. Yet the feeling that he was not alone persisted.

  He shrugged. He needed sleep. He picked up his bag again and went into his room. After a shower and a change of clothes, he was feeling more relaxed. He poured himself a glass of water and lay down for a nap.

  When he woke, it was dark inside the room.

  “June, lights,” he said. The lights came on. “Time?” He queried.

  “0630.”

  He rose, yawning. He’d slept for over 18 hours, and he was still tired. He checked his messages, mails, and there was nothing urgent.

  He sighed. He was postponing the inevitable. What Zain had warned him about had happened. Sergio couldn’t understand it. Why had Alexander decided against what would have been a profitable collaboration?

  He picked up his pad. “Miley?” He said. “Place a call to Mr. Selwood, please?”

  “Mr. Selwood’s pad is in “Do Not Disturb”mode, Mr. Martinez.”

  He sighed. Alexander wouldn’t be back for another couple of days and in the meantime, the Resistance was struggling. Most of them were on Ignis under false identities, Amir and Joyce’s geniuses the only thing between them and exposure. The recordings by the Sentients were all erased by Amir and substituted by something else, and he’d also ensured that none of their DNA data ever made it onto any database. But it took funding for Amir and Joyce to keep doing that. It took funding for whatever research Lucas Hendriks was supposed to be doing. It took money to get new identities and finger prints to people who needed to get away from the State, and right now, they had none because he had foolishly assured Zain that Alexander would be interested.