Titan's Son: (Children of Titan Book 2)

by Rhett C. Bruno

  The speaker exchanged a series of calculated hand gestures with the other attackers. It wasn’t just military signals either. I could tell from experience that they were communicating in sign language. That had me believing they might be Ringers.

  Deafness had essentially been eliminated on Earth, with its advancements in the areas of genetics and affordable surgical options, so it was a dead language for Earthers. But signing had been a huge part of how we communicated in the early days of the Ring, when we were founding our colonies from the inside of protective suits. Having an entire construction crew chattering over in-helmet com-links could be confusing. Most Ringers weren’t fluent anymore, and I basically knew only the few words and phrases I remembered from school, which came in handy as a thief trying to remain as discreet as possible. The attackers were so fluid with it that the only word I recognized was live.

  “Who are they?” Cora whispered, the terror in her voice palpable.

  I don’t know, but I think I invited them here, was what I wanted to say. I settled on simply “I don’t know,” which was still the honest truth. Them being Ringers was really an educated guess. Any Earther could learn sign language if they had the time or the desire to put on a mask and make my kind appear culpable. The only thing I could be sure about was that they were professionals, and they weren’t messing around.

  “Stand,” one of the other attackers said to all the Ringers in the harvesting bay as he or she approached us. Another said the same to the Earthers across the way.

  We all complied.

  The attacker’s head rotated so that his or her visor aimed directly at Cora and me. My stomach knotted. Her fingers dug into my side and mine into hers.

  “Apart,” the distorted voice ordered. “Show your hands.”

  We hesitated.

  “Now,” he or she demanded.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered to Cora. “It’s okay.” It took all my willpower to pry my hands off her, but I did so and made sure to position myself in front of her as I raised them. I couldn’t even feel if they were quaking anymore, they’d been doing it for so long.

  “Form a line at the door,” the attacker said. “The order is irrelevant.”

  “For what?” Desmond questioned. “I’m sick of this. I won’t be marched away willingly to be used like a sack of meat if that’s what this is!”

  “Me... me neither,” Yavik nervously agreed.

  Again, I wished Desmond could just keep his mouth shut. The attacker promptly stormed over to him and raised his or her pulse-rifle so that the barrel pressed into the center of his forehead.

  “Failure to comply won’t be tolerated,” he or she threatened.

  The attacker’s finger pulled the trigger halfway, and Desmond’s expression was ripe with a level of apprehension I didn’t know he was capable of. I could see the lump in his throat bob.

  I willed him with my thoughts to stay quiet. It was better to be a slave, if that was what was coming, than a stain on the floor. Ringers were no good in underground brothels, considering our immune systems, so if we were being acquired for work, the worst place I could conceive of that we’d be placed was some hollowed-out asteroid mine. The Lowers weren’t much different.

  “Listen to them,” I said. “If they wanted us dead, they’d have kept the air off.” I limped toward the blast door, checking to make sure that Cora followed. She did. I held her gaze as we walked.

  “Back to your old obedient self, are you, Kale?” Desmond said through clenched teeth.

  I wasn’t foolish enough to respond. Cora and I found a spot behind the Earthers, who reluctantly formed a line at gunpoint. I made sure she was in front of me.

  Most of the Ringers followed me, and once Yavik decided he’d rather live a little bit longer, so did he. Only then did Desmond finally lower his shoulders, sidestep the rifle, and mope toward the door.

  I exhaled. He was a pain in my ass, but I didn’t want to see him die. I didn’t want to see any of the crew die. Not even John, who took his rightful position as second in line behind the captain. “We’re complying,” Captain Saunders said, mustering his most authoritative tone. “Just tell us what’s happening, and we’ll continue to. Nobody has to get hurt.”

  “Judgment, for your benefactor,” the attacker near the head of the line said.

  “Where are you taking us?” John asked. He could barely squeak the words out.

  None of the attackers answered. They signed something to one another and then spread out at equal intervals along the line, guns still raised. “Time to move,” one of them ordered; it was impossible to tell which, maybe all. The unnatural voice seemed to be coming from all around me. “Move!”

  They simultaneously cocked their rifles. Everyone did what they were told. I had to look down just to make sure I didn’t trip over my feet as I started walking. After a few steps, I reached out without thinking about it and placed a quaking hand on Cora’s hip. Maybe it was to reassure her, but it was probably more for my own sake.

  “Hand,” the nearest attacker warned. I pulled it away immediately. Cora shuddered. As I looked up, I couldn’t help but stare at the orange circle on the attacker’s chest. The same circle that had been there when I found Dexter dead. The same circle that had nearly given me a heart attack as I transported it through the heart of Pervenio Corp.

  “Yup, I should’ve never taken a job on this ship,” Desmond grumbled. He walked directly behind me. “Had a good thing going, running food down from the Uppers. Barely any all-important credits in it, though.”

  I shushed him.

  “I’ll be quiet when they put a bullet in my brain,” he said.

  “I’m sure they’d be happy to,” I answered.

  Before he could say anything else, the nearest attacker slammed me in the gut with the butt of a pulse-rifle. I’m sure it wasn’t as hard as possible, since wearing a powered suit, he or she could have ruptured my organs, but it was enough to knock the wind out of me and drop me to a knee.

  “Kale!” Cora yelped. She went to help me, but the attacker grabbed her and forced her back into place. I was lifted next.

  “Move quietly,” the attacker demanded and shoved me into line.

  I guess there was a shred of decency in Desmond because that got him to shut up in a hurry. Cora glanced back at me over her shoulder, tears dripping down her flushed cheeks. I forced a crooked smile and continued to limp, now also hunched over from the throbbing pain in my stomach.

  We were led to the compartment outside of the Piccolo’s starboard docking airlock. It was little more than a wide hallway. Benches ran down the sides with empty exo-suits hanging over them in case of exterior repairs. The airlock was at the far end, from which a shaft extended to mate with stations or ships that didn’t have a hangar large enough to fit the entire vessel.

  The half of the Piccolo’s crew that hadn’t made it to the harvesting bay were already there, sitting on the benches under the guard of a fourth faceless attacker. Most of them were bruised and bloody. There was an order to it: The obvious Ringers sat on one side and the Earthers on the other. All of them appeared too exhausted to be afraid anymore. I couldn’t imagine what they’d gone through while we hid in the harvesting bay.

  “Lester!” Desmond shouted. He was promptly grabbed and thrown back into line after an attempt to run to him. Lester was the nearest seated Ringer. He turned his head, his eyes groggy from a hangover and ringed by dark bruises. He looked like a man resigned to his fate.

  The attackers stopped us and then signed to each other. Test was one of the words I thought I recognized. The attacker who led us seized the captain, and then the one who’d awaited us at the airlock withdrew a long, detachable needle attached to some form of scanning device.

  “What the hell is that!” the captain yelled and tried to shake free. He was silenced by the barrel of a gun against his head. They restrained him and plunged the needle into his right arm just below the shoulder. He moaned until it was all the way in, down
to the bone, and the scanner beeped. The captain was then placed on the Earther side of the hall, and a new, clean needle was screwed into the device. That settled where the attackers were from. Only Ringers would care about being hygienic during a raid.

  It went on like that down the line. Some fought, most didn’t risk it. The first bunch were all Earthers, then there were a few Ringers interspersed who’d followed the orders to get in line ahead of me. They were placed across the hall adjacent to Lester.

  I was in the back half of the line, and by the time it was Cora’s turn ahead of me, it was easy to figure out what they were scanning. They wanted to be sure of everyone’s origin by going deep enough to get a bone density reading. Sometimes newer-generation Ringers could be hard to identify, or there were tall Earthers whose families had spent too much time in their lives on asteroid mines. Other Ringers, like Yavik, for example, had brownish-gray skin even though they displayed all the other physical traits of Ringers. But bone density was the key. Even the oldest Earther offworlders had only endured the low gravity beyond Earth for a handful of generations. The frail skeleton of someone with lineage dating back to Trass’s first settlers was impossible to replicate. Sanitary masks usually made it easy to tell without need for tests, but many of the Piccolo’s Ringer crew were missing theirs.

  I reached up to my mouth, only then realizing I’d forgotten mine during all the chaos. As I did, the attackers pulled Cora forward. She shrieked a bit but managed to stay calm. My skin crawled as the needle sank into her arm. I tried but failed to catch a glimpse of the information that popped up on the scanner after it beeped. She wasn’t sorted as easily as the others. Some signing was exchanged, and one of the words was Earth.

  “She’s one of us,” I stepped forward and attested before I could second-guess myself. Seeing the rows arrayed before us, I realized that the Earther she’d be sitting next to if she was sent to that side was one of John’s security team. If we were all going to die, I wasn’t going to let her do it away from the people who accepted her.

  A rifle was immediately pressed against my back. Cora mouthed the word “No” to me, her eyes bright with concern.

  I swallowed hard and repeated myself. “She’s one of us.”

  They grabbed my arm, and the long needle stabbed into it without warning. I winced. It felt like a sharp string of ice burrowing into me, and finally a stinging pressure on my bone that lasted for half a second. The needle slid out, along with a tiny smidge of blood, and when the scanner beeped, two of the attackers crowded around the results. They signed to each other. I didn’t catch any of their words, but Cora was placed on the Ringer side, and me right beside her.

  “I told you, you’re one of us,” I whispered to her.

  I saw her lips twitch a bit, as if she wanted to smile but couldn’t. It was enough for me. Our hands brushed, but I didn’t dare hold hers while we were under watch. I’d already been defiant enough.

  Desmond arrived beside me shortly after, and the rest of the scans went relatively smooth, minus all the cursing being thrown at the attackers. With everyone sorted, one of them slowly crossed the room and stopped in front of the docking shaft airlock’s controls. He or she began typing into them.

  “Well, here we are,” Desmond said to me. “Nowhere to run now.”

  I hushed him, for what seemed like the thousandth time.

  “What now?” Captain Saunders addressed the attackers. “We’ve done everything you’ve asked.”

  The inner seal of the airlock opened, and the attacker there turned to face us, Earthers and Ringers split on either side of the hall. The lines were drawn, with no shades of gray. The other three attackers arrayed themselves between the rows, rifles armed.

  The attacker by the airlock gestured into the open chamber. “All Earthers get in, and you will be spared pain.”

  Every member of the Piccolo’s crew looked up, confused and petrified. The airlock led to only one place, and no human could survive out there no matter what race they were.

  “Get in,” the attacker repeated.

  Being at gunpoint convinced some of the Earthers to listen, but Captain Saunders held out his arms to stop them. He used the shoulders of the men at his sides for support and lifted himself onto his chair until his face was level with the attacker in front of him.

  “None of us are getting in there,” he growled. “I think it’s about time you all got the hell off my ship!”

  Without hesitation, the attacker by the airlock aimed at the captain and shot him in the stomach, with a real bullet this time. A cloud of red sprayed onto John. The captain howled in pain and lunged for the attacker’s rifle, but nobody else moved; we were too shocked. The attacker ducked out of the way, grabbed Captain Saunders by the collar, and hurled him down the hall. He went skidding to a halt right by my feet.

  “Captain!” I hollered. I slid down from my seat and went to press my palm against his wound before realizing I had no gloves on. Cora pushed my arm away while I hesitated and did it herself. Blood bubbled in his mouth as he labored to breathe. An attacker lifted us away from him and forced us back into our seats.

  “He made his choice,” I was told by the attacker holding a gun in my face. “Make yours.”

  I remained as still as possible, but my entire body quivered. Cora struggled to stifle her tears, staring at the writhing captain, completely aghast.

  “Don’t do it,” Desmond said to us, his voice cracking. “He isn’t worth it.”

  “Get in,” the attacker by the airlock ordered the Earthers once again. This time, he or she didn’t wait for them to follow orders. Culver was the first one in line, and his untreated broken leg had left him barely conscious. The attacker hoisted him up and dumped him into the airlock.

  One by one, the rest were forced in. Some fought, others couldn’t manage to, but none of them could stop it.

  “What is this?” John stammered when it was his turn to be placed. “Don’t do this! I’ll do anything!” He was grabbed by the neck and flung into the airlock, slamming against the outer seal. “Don’t do this!” He scrambled to his knees and toward the exit, but another Earther was promptly thrust into him.

  “Kale... what’s happening?” Cora asked.

  She wasn’t stupid, so I knew that she had to know the answer. She just couldn’t comprehend it. I didn’t want to either. I wanted to hope that these faceless Ringers were just trying to show that they were serious, but only Earthers filled the airlock. I didn’t know what to say. Even Desmond, who’d no doubt heard her, remained silent. I kept hoping that I was going to wake up in Cora’s bed after a bad dream. That this was my nerves getting the better of me following the fear I’d felt while saving my mom in the command deck.

  The last Earther was forced in, and then the inner seal of the airlock shut with a hiss. A circular viewport in the center allowed me to see the terrified Earthers within. The chamber was so small they were piled on top of one another.

  The attackers lowered their weapons, as if they were confident that none of us Ringer members of the crew would do anything rash. Apparently, they were right. It was like I was back in the Q-Zone across from my mother—totally helpless. I heard the captain coughing but couldn’t tear my gaze from the airlock to look down at him. Suppressed sobs emanated from either side of me. More of my own tears gathered in the corner of my eyes.

  “Stop this,” the captain gurgled.

  The attacker in front of me ignored him and withdrew a familiar-looking hand-terminal. The one I’d placed in the command deck. Mine. He or she set the device to record and aimed it at the attacker standing by the airlock. I hadn’t noticed it on the way in, but a wire stretched away from it, across the floor, and toward the command deck. The other attackers positioned themselves so that they weren’t obstructing the view. A bit of signing was exchanged, and then the attacker by the airlock counted down from ten on his or her armored fingers.

  The Earthers trapped inside the airlock grew even more hysterical. Thei
r voices were muted by the seal as they pounded on the viewport. I’d served beside many of them for months, if not years. John’s face was in the center, and as much as I despised him, seeing him so scared... I couldn’t bear to watch.

  “You must watch,” an attacker said to me, a hand turning my cheek. I couldn’t fight its augmented strength, and as I was compelled to look back toward the airlock, I felt Cora’s fingers threading through mine. They were ice-cold, trembling, and covered in the captain’s blood. At that moment, disease was the last thing either of us was worried about. We needed each other. She squeezed, and I squeezed back. A day ago, I would’ve been thrilled by her attention; now I wished she were nowhere near me, nowhere near this nightmare.

  “Please, don’t do this,” I whispered through quaking lips.

  The attacker leaned over until his or her visor was only centimeters away from my face. “Take solace in knowing that they will not suffer, Kale Drayton.”

  Everyone else was too focused on what was happening to hear the words. Like R, the attacker knew my name. My throat went dry. My heart had been racing more often than not ever since the message came through, but at that moment, it felt like it’d completely stopped. I could no longer deny that what was happening was connected to me.

  “We are descendants of those chosen by Trass—Titanborn,” the distorted voice of the attacker by the airlock addressed the recording hand-terminal after the countdown finished. “We tire of being owned; of rotting in your Q-Zones as you suck our home dry. Retribution is coming. This is what happens to those who steal from our Ring.” The attacker placed his or her hand over the airlock controls. “From ice to ashes.”

  I wanted to scream for them to stop, but nothing came out. The attacker keyed a command on the controls and sentenced every Earther to death without even a second’s hesitation. The outer seal of the airlock blew open, and the winds of Saturn silently whipped in to heave them all out.

  THIRTEEN

  In seconds, the faces of the Earther members of the crew were gone, and I was left gawking at the Piccolo’s empty airlock. The muffled whistling of the wind beyond the seal was all I could hear. The breathing of every Ringer around me seemed to have ceased.