The Ascension Myth Box Set

by Ell Leigh Clark

“Who will reach out to the boy?” Arlene asked.

  “We’ll handle it. I’ll have someone send over details for arranging his enrolment and you can take it from there.”

  “Thank you, Carol. I appreciate everything you’ve done. And I’m sure Molly will too.”

  Carol felt herself smiling. “Not a problem, Arlene. I’ll let you get on,” she added.

  “Thanks. Bye Carol.”

  The call ended.

  Arlene sat back in her seat, shaking her head softly.

  “Everything okay?” Ben’or’s voice came from the living room. She’d left the office door open so that he could hear some of it. The last thing she wanted was to shut him out of an operation he’d practically saved.

  Arlene got up and wandered through. She could see he’d been working on his new wristholo while she’d been doing some work.

  “Everything is going to be fine,” she smiled. “Thanks to your brilliant insight.”

  Ben’or chuckled. “Glad I could be of assistance,” he told her. “Now, how about we discuss dinner plans?”

  Houston Residence, East Waterside, Outskirts of Spire

  Rhodez rang the doorbell of the large house on the outskirts of town. Large and white, it stood as a reminder of how the city had sprawled to devour the old terraformed farming communities. An industrial generator from the previous century stood several hundred yards in the rear grounds of the house, the ground now arid and barren. He turned back to look at the track he’d driven up. The terrain was too unpredictable and unmapped to go antigrav around these parts, and it had felt like it had taken him forever just to get from the edge of town to here.

  A uniformed marshal answered the door. Rhodez had his badge already in his hand. He knew how jumpy these marshals could be when they had someone high risk in custody. Last thing he wanted was to be reaching into his jacket pocket. “Afternoon. I’m Detective Rhodez with the 41st. I have a few questions for your ward.”

  The marshal eyeballed the ID for a moment and then stood aside to let the police officer in. “Down the hall, to the right.”

  Rhodez headed down the hallway and through into a spacious living room. The house may have been luxurious once upon a time, but now the fading wood decor and worn carpets made it feel like it’s inhabitants were just making do in their existence.

  An Estarian man sat in an armchair, hunched over the mocha table, fiddling with knick-knacks on the glass surface. There were remnants of tobacco on the table, as well as splashes of mocha. Rhodez concluded that he lived alone. Or at least there wasn’t a woman in his life regularly. He held up his ID for the man. “I’m Detective Rhodez. Malone Houston?”

  The man nodded, unsurprised to see a police officer in his home at this point. There was movement off in the kitchen. Rhodez could see another marshal through the serving hatch, moving around, checking cupboards for something.

  “I’m here to get some clarity on the incident that has landed you in this predicament.”

  Houston snorted.

  Rhodez guessed it was either contempt or sarcasm for the idea. He lowered his voice and made his way around to the other side of the mocha table to sit on the sofa, near to Houston. He leaned forward, an air of secrecy about what he was about to say. Houston allowed himself to be drawn in, his knick-knacks on the table forgotten, and his body language shifting slightly.

  “Let’s say you didn’t do what you have been accused of,” Rhodez started. Houston stopped for a moment. Rhodez could see he’d captured his attention for a second.

  Then Houston sighed and sat back in his armchair. “I’ve confessed,” he said simply. “That’s all there is to it.”

  “But it’s not. I know you were set up, and I know that someone has forced you to plead guilty.”

  Houston started to protest, but Rhodez held his hand up to silence him. “Look,” Rhodez continued, still in a hushed voice. “I’m after the guys that pressured you. There’s a lot more at stake than you realize. This is bigger than you, or I, and we’re on the clock to stop at least two murders before they happen.”

  Houston’s brow furrowed, as if he was contemplating helping, but he shook his head. “I can’t.”

  Rhodez sat back, thinking. “What happened when you protested your innocence?”

  Houston shrugged. “The police just kept showing me my bank statement. The more I said that I didn’t know anything about the transfers, the more they insisted I did.”

  “And what about the account where the money came from?”

  “I had never heard of the name on the account before. But they said it had been central to their investigation—and that I would have got away with it if I hadn’t transferred the funds to my checking account.”

  “So, they were already onto the account then?”

  Houston nodded.

  “Sounding more and more like a set up to me.” He paused. “You changed your story at one point too.”

  Houston shrugged. “Lawyer said it was the best way to get a reduced sentence.”

  Rhodez made a note on his holo. “Anything else happen around the time you changed your story? Did they find any other evidence? Or start putting more pressure on you?”

  Houston shook his head. “No. If anything they started to leave off a little. Lawyer said it was a bad sign because it meant they had something that made their case more solid.”

  “And that’s when he pushed you to confess?”

  “Yeah. He managed to get me a really good deal. Four years down from twenty.”

  “Really?” Rhodez had to work hard to hide his surprise and outrage. “Who told you it was twenty years on the table for embezzlement?”

  “I…” he hesitated. “I think it was Scarlet?”

  “Scarlet? Is that a girlfriend?”

  “No. My attorney, Henry Scarlet.”

  Rhodez made another note. “And how did you meet Scarlet?”

  “He was assigned to me by the Department of Justice, I’m told. I mean, he just showed up in my interview room shortly after I was arrested.”

  “How soon after you were arrested?”

  “I dunno. Maybe an hour? Maybe less. It was a long time ago now…”

  “Yes. I can appreciate that.” Rhodez sat for a long moment, contemplating what he’d heard. Then quietly he flipped out a tiny paper notepad and wrote his number on it.

  “I’m assuming you have no holo…”

  Houston showed the detective his naked wrist and nodded in the direction of the marshal at the front door.

  “Ok. Look this is my contact IP. If you think of anything else, or anything else happens, be in touch, ok?” Rhodez folded the scrap of paper in two and dropped it onto the table in front of Houston.

  Houston looked at it. “We don’t have holos where I’m going.”

  “Yes, but you do have console access for good behavior,” Rhodez told him. He stood up, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “What you’re going through is tough, but you’ll get through it. Keep your head down and stay calm. I’ll do what I can on this side. I don’t believe you did it.”

  Houston’s eyes started to tear up.

  Rhodez gave the man’s shoulder a comforting squeeze and then put one finger to his lips. The two men nodded and Rhodez made his way noisily out of the room. “Thanks for your time Mr. Houston,” he raised his voice a few decibels as if to break the spell and return to a more distanced interaction for the sake of appearances to the babysitters.

  As he left he noticed out of the corner of his eye Houston quietly picking up the note and discreetly pushing it into his pants pocket.

  The marshal by the front door watched Rhodez approach down the hallway. He moved to open the door again. “Got what you needed?”

  Rhodex nodded. “Yeah, not really. Open and shut,” he shrugged. “Not all hunches pay off,” he added feigning disappointment. He ambled out of the door. “Thanks for your help, marshal.”

  The marshal nodd
ed and closed the door behind him.

  Rhodez was smart enough not to rush back to his vehicle, across the sandy mud. Last thing he wanted was to tip off anyone who might be watching. He had something, and he knew precisely who he needed to look into next to blow the lid off this whole thing.

  Chapter 10

  Capitol Building, Spire, Estaria

  Commander Richard Ekks strode into his office. He had a matter of minutes before he had to turn right back around and head over to the other building for a meeting. Since he took this promotion his days had become meetings within meetings, packed alongside yet more meetings. Had he known beforehand what the day-to-day was going to be like he may have thought twice about accepting Ghetti’s offer.

  It was too late now. He was in.

  And he was indebted.

  He’d taken the bribe and one day he knew they’d come calling for more than just a seemingly inconsequential vote here, and a helping hand in a situation there.

  He rummaged on his desk for the stim packets he’d brought in with him that morning. He remembered he’d swiped them into his drawer when his assistant came in. Though technically not outlawed they weren’t exactly smiled upon in military culture.

  He sat on his console chair and moved to open the drawer. His holo beeped. He checked it. A shudder rippled down his spine. It was a message from Ghetti, as if thinking about him prodded him to reach out.

  He hit the decode protocol on the secret key that Ghetti had shared with him when they last met in person. The message decoded and displayed in Standard Estarian.

  His eyes scanned the message quickly.

  How we police the outer regions is a military decision, not a political one. We need you to make a statement in the media to this effect. Someone will reach out to you later today.

  This was it.

  This was the beginning of everything Raj Ghetti had talked to him about in their numerous clandestine meetings. Things were moving forward just as he said they would, and faster than Ekks had anticipated.

  He typed a coded response to acknowledge the message and then deleted it. He sat staring into space for a few moments, contemplating the enormity of what he was a part of now. And then he remembered his meeting and stim packet.

  He reached into his drawer quickly and located his stash, ripping open the packet and emptying the sachet of tart powder under his tongue. Then he discarded the packet, picked up his parade hat and hurried out of the door again.

  Aboard The Penitent Granddaughter, Agresh Quadrant

  Nickie stomped down the corridor with Grim hurrying along half a pace behind her, trying to keep up. “You know, you could just talk to them,” he argued. “If they’re Federation too then they’ll probably tell you.”

  Nickie tapped the weapon in the holster of her right thigh. “I’ll let Jean Dukes do the talking,” she retorted.

  Grim opened his mouth to protest again, but his words were lost to her. She was clearly fixated on the goal of finding out what their relationship was to her aunt.

  Nickie. There is something else you need to know.

  Oh, it’s ok Meredith. I’m about to find out everything I need to know.

  She swung around a corner of the corridor, her boots announcing her advance as only hard rubber on metal could. A cleaning bot felt the vibrations and scurried to the corridor wall just in time to avoid being kicked.

  There is something you need to know before you go in there, guns waving. The ship’s commander is a human, who has an AI in her head.

  Nickie’s pace slowed. Grim managed to catch up, panting now.

  Bethany Anne?

  No. Someone else.

  There is no one else.

  Well, it appears that is not quite true. Her artificial entity is relaying intel to me now. I think we can trust them not to harm us. It seems that we’re each after the same thing.

  A long life and lots of drugs?

  No. Putting an end to illegal arms dealing in this sector.

  You mean, they’re the good guys?

  Nickie and Grim arrived at the cargo hold door.

  Yes. That’s what my analysis is suggesting.

  Shit. Just to be clear, I don’t get to royally kick Leath ass?

  ‘Fraid not.

  Ok. So, what’s our solution?

  The entity contact is suggesting we reconvene at their base.

  Yeah, like I’m that stupid.

  I think you should reconsider. If there are any problems, I’ll get us out of there. Plus, you have two of their people on board.

  Fuck, I really have no choice. Nickie sighed. “Okay. Change of plan, Grim. We’re not going to torture these folks for information.”

  Her fingers hovered over the door keypad, and she sighed again. “But we do need to get Durq out of there. Prolonged exposure to a stressful situation and who knows what state he’ll be in.”

  “Okay,” Grim said slowly. “And the humans?”

  “Well, it appears we’re on the same fucking side, so for now we’re going to have to play nice.”

  Grim watched her carefully. “You’re disappointed?”

  “Well, you know me. I’ve been gearing up for action and all this is turning out to be more of a drama. Just need to ask them to put their goddamn guns away, else I’ll have to teach them some manners on my ship.”

  Nickie, The Empress is trying to hail you. The female human’s name is Molly. You’re probably going to want to take this.

  Nickie’s hand dropped from the keypad. “Ok, patch her through.”

  “Hi there, Pretender,” Nickie answered.

  Molly’s voice came back through her implant. “Hi there, Impostor.”

  Nickie pulled a face at Molly’s retort but kept talking. “So, I’m about to head into the cargo hold. You wanna make sure your people know that we’re friends and that we don’t need to shoot each other?”

  “Yes, one second.”

  Back on The Empress Molly hit mute and reopened the channel to Sean and Karina.

  “Guys—Nickie is coming in. She’s friendly. Well, not exactly in the social sense. But in terms of the op she’s a friend. We’ve been going after the same targets. You’re going to want to put your weapons down, please.”

  She heard a sigh on the line, and then the clicking of guns being disarmed and safeties going back on.

  She muted them and unmuted the line to Nickie. “Okay, they’re good.”

  “Good.” Nickie stood back from the panel and then leaned against the wall, wanting to finish her conversation before she talked to the other humans on her ship. “So, I’m interested to know how you know about the Rangers.”

  “Oh, we’re equally interested to know why you’re impersonating a Ranger,” Molly replied coolly. “But that can wait. Right now, we need to get away from this location in case that deal really is going down around here.”

  “Fine with me.”

  “May I suggest that we rendezvous at my base?”

  “How do I know you’re not laying a trap?”

  “Did you miss the memo where Oz and Meredith figured out we’re on the same side?”

  “No. But still. I’d like some assurances.”

  Molly sighed, taking a moment to think. “Well, how about you keep my people on your ship and you can deliver them safely to my base when you’re satisfied that we’re not trapping you.”

  There was a frustratingly long pause on the line. Molly shot Joel a glance, showing her mild annoyance at this newcomer.

  “That would be okay. I guess,” Nickie responded eventually.

  “Great. We’re sending Meredith the coordinates now. See you back there. We’ll put the kettle on.”

  The call disconnected, leaving Nickie wondering what the hell the woman had meant about a kettle.

  She punched the access code into the keypad. A moment later the door slid slowly open to reveal Sean and Karina sitting on crates. Her gaze flicked around the room,
looking for Durq. She found him, her supposed arms dealer, in the corner, hiding behind the pretend stack of guns.

  Nickie raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Give me strength,” she muttered exhaling sharply.

  Aboard The Empress, Agresh Quadrant

  Jack had been watching the whole interaction quietly from the back of the cockpit. Hearing the new plan, she relaxed. “I guess my services are no longer needed.”

  “Not at the moment,” Molly confirmed.

  Jack headed out of the cockpit and back to the lounge, allowing her heart rate to return to normal. Her military background had prepared her well for the game of hurry up and wait, and thankfully it also gave her to tools to unwind if it turned out the action was delayed or aborted.

  Joel remained in the cockpit, smirking at the interaction with Nickie and watching Molly’s reactions. Molly ignored him. “So, Oz? How exactly is this going to go when we get back?”

  “You make tea. Play hostess. Show her around and let her see you’re not monsters.”

  “Right and then what?”

  “And then you and the prodigal granddaughter need to sit down and talk.”

  Molly exhaled sharply, sitting herself down in the nearest console chair. “Great. Just what I wanted. A mission turning into a babysitting task.”

  “She’s not exactly a baby,” Oz reminded her. “Besides, you still have to solve the problem of getting those weapons back.”

  “Well, she’s young enough to have created this cluster fuck of a mission,” Molly retorted. “It might be worth letting Sean and Karina know that if there is any funny business they have permission to… well, do whatever it is those Federation types do to get what they want.”

  Brock snorted again.

  Joel’s chest was bouncing up and down as he laughed silently, his arms folded across his chest.

  Molly wasn’t sure if it was because she had called them and their tactics Federation-types, or whether they were amused with her annoyance with Nickie. Either way, she was too distracted to care.

  This girl was turning out to be a pain in her butt.

  Aboard The Penitent Granddaughter, Agresh Quadrant

  Sean and Karina stood motionless in the cargo hold. It was large and cold, and resembled something one might see on a docudrama about people trafficking.