Triorion Omnibus

by L. J. Hachmeister

  Assuming this is a memory stain, this can’t be all of it, Triel thought as the woman’s image zig-zagged like a wayward television signal. I bet I can only see part of the message; it must be intended for someone else.

  As the woman continued, the background changed accordingly.

  “There isn’t much time, so I will tell you what is most important: I was born on Earth in 2021, and I can remember things that humans now have long since forgotten, the most important thing being Earth—the real Earth—when it was green and full of life.”

  Triel stepped backwards as jagged mountains erupted from the groundless floor and green forests sprouted from newly formed soil. A crisp wind tickled her skin, bringing with it the sweet smell of new life.

  “I was hoping to pass these things down to you, but that day in 2052 changed everything. Now I can only hope that it isn’t too late, that maybe my surviving—our surviving—the accident means that Earth and mankind still has a chance.”

  The background changed. Trees and mountains merged together to form decorated walls and a lighted ceiling. The smell of mothballs, old paper, and wood stain hit her just as the rest of the place took form. A human man, an old one with white hair and dark-rimmed glasses, appeared behind a counter counting round, copper disks next to an outdated cash register. Stacks of books and ancient-looking contraptions covered almost every centimeter of the store. A globe representing a blue planet with one moon hung from the ceiling, slowly rotating on its axis.

  “The man on fire knows where to go next. If you get lost, look for a familiar sign. And when you find Charlie, all your questions will be answered.”

  As the image faded, Triel felt the pressure increase on the walls of Reht’s psyche squeezing her from every side. She whipped backwards, retracting back toward her body as Reht’s mind reawakened.

  The Healer came out of the dog-soldier’s mind gasping. As she regained her sight, Shelby held her in his arms while another lab technician tried to read her bioscan.

  “I’m fine!” Triel said between breaths, pushing herself off of Shelby and rushing back to Reht.

  Shelby made some kind of crass comment, but she ignored him. “Hey,” she said, brushing Reht’s red-tipped hair away from his face.

  His eyes opened slowly, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Starfox...”

  Tears squeezed from her eyes as she hugged him and felt his biorhythms harmonize. Whoever had stained him had almost killed him, but after seeing the imprint she didn’t think it was intentional.

  “Hey—what the hell?” Reht said, realizing his surroundings. “What is this gorsh-shit?”

  Two other lab technicians and the guards surrounded them, weapons aimed at his head.

  “Triel, I advise that you come with me now,” Shelby said, offering her the door.

  She shook her head. “I want him and the rest of the crew released.”

  “Please, Triel,” Shelby said again, nodding at the guards.

  “Don’t touch him!” Triel said, standing between Reht and the guards as they advanced. “Or you’ll never know what happened to him.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Reht said, trying to sit up but ending up on his side, panting for breath.

  Shelby’s face remained unemotional. “Triel, there is nothing to negotiate.”

  Triel thought about the woman—her familiarity, her bizarre accent, her captivating fervor. There is something very important about her, something that the Alliance—the Starways—might need.

  “I saw a woman in Reht’s head—she had imprinted a message. That’s why he was sick.”

  “Imprinted a message?” Shelby said.

  “Only telepaths can do that—and there aren’t many of us left. More importantly, she seemed to know something about Earth. Something about saving it.”

  Shelby’s face changed. “Did she say her name? What other information did she provide?”

  Triel kept her eyes locked on his. “This is where we negotiate.”

  “Chak negotiations!” Reht said, trying to sit up again.

  Shelby cocked his head to the side. “Unfortunately, I have to side with the dog-soldier.”

  Something pricked the Healer’s arm. She tried to shout, but her mouth didn’t want to move. Neither did her arms or legs. As she slumped over Reht’s body and the guards descended upon them, she heard him scream.

  AGRACIA AND BOSSY WERE yelling at her, shaking her by the shoulders.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Jetta said, coming around.

  “What was that? You kept screaming, ‘Jahx,’” Agracia said.

  Bewildered, Jetta held her head in her hands. She had felt her brother, his connection, his voice in her heard, just like before. That’s impossible—Jahx is dead. It must have been the effects of the shock cuff or the removal of the biochip; I must have hallucinated.

  Besides, she had been unable to use her powers for a long time, and she had only bridged that kind of distance between herself and her sister a handful of times prior, so it could have jolted her system. Really, she told herself, any number of things could have caused the phantom sensation.

  “What?” Agracia asked, seeing her perplexity.

  “Forget about it,” Jetta said, standing and straightening her clothes. She rubbed her temples, searching again for her sister. As Jaeia’s thoughts slowly surfaced in the back of her mind, she smiled.

  Hey Sis, she called out across the stars.

  A rush of emotion hit her like a hug given after a running start. Jetta laughed out loud, giving Agracia and Bossy a reason to raise a brow at her.

  Relieved, Jetta sent her sister the knowledge of her relative safety and her new discovery.

  I’m so glad you’re okay. We’re coming for you now. Where is your location? Jaeia asked.

  “Where are we, anyway?” Jetta asked to Jock duo.

  Agracia’s eyes grew dark. “You’re contacting the Alliance, aren’t you?”

  Jetta nodded, thinking of the consequences of her actions. She would be reprimanded, court-martialed—perhaps even jailed if she had caused harm to the foundation worker in the jump—but she couldn’t care about that. I did it for Galm and Lohien, and I would do it again. “I have to.”

  Agracia picked her headphones up off the ground and held them in her hands. “You’re going to tell them about us.”

  Following the chain of her thoughts, Jetta saw the logic in her fear. Agracia has ties to the Alliance, and I’m not certain that relationship has ended.

  “If you leave,” Agracia said. “You’ll never know about your tattoo.”

  Jetta crossed her arms and gave them her best bluff. “I can take that from you. I don’t need your help.”

  Thankfully, Agracia wasn’t aware that Jetta couldn’t steal from her as easily as she made it sound. “Yes, you do. You could gank every shred of knowledge from me about Earth, about the Pits—whatever. But no matter how much you know about the Scabs, you’ll never be a Scabber, and they won’t accept you—not without an escort. Not without me and Bossy. We’re your ticket or you’ll never get in.”

  “At least not without a bloody mess,” Bossy muttered.

  The same rules apply on Fiorah, Jetta thought, so there’s probably some merit to what she said. “What do you want, then?”

  Bossy popped her lollipop out of her mouth. “I want you to go chak yourself. This ain’t the Gracie I know.”

  “Shut it, kid,” Agracia said. “She might be able to help you if you keep your godich mouth shut for five minutes.”

  Jetta heard the echo of Agracia’s desires: She wants me to dig around Bossy’s past, too. Maybe there’s a reason the two of them have gravitated toward each other...

  Agracia put the headphones back on her head but immediately took them off.

  “What is it?” Jetta said as Agracia’s pain radiated back at her.

  “My head,” Agracia said, squeezing her eyes shut. “How did I ever listen to this?”

  Jetta picked up the headphon
es and put it to one of her ears. The same verse of the heavy metal tune repeated over and over again in a never-ending loop. “Gods. Why the hell did you listen to this?!”

  “I don’t know. I just always have.”

  Jetta realized right then that Agracia wouldn’t be able to recall the truth without being guided through the fictional web of her past, and that gave Jetta a distinct advantage. If I’m quick about it, I could possibly retrieve some scrap of information before Agracia’s training has a chance to react and resist. And now that her access to Agracia’s knowledge about her tattoo was closed off, Jetta would need to offer something equally valuable if she expected to get Agracia to cooperate.

  “Hey!” Agracia shouted as Jetta grabbed her wrist.

  Breaching the Scabber Jock’s mind for the second time proved even tougher than Jetta thought. Agracia’s faculties rapidly acclimated to her powers, erecting new ice walls against her assault. Acting quickly and deftly, Jetta leapt around and wound through the mental barricades.

  She’s stronger than she looks, Jetta thought, dodging a psionic counterattack that sent shockwaves through her skull and spine. She’s elite; I can’t use my usual tricks.

  Pressing harder, Jetta hurtled through military drills, uniformed men discussing Agracia’s fate, white-walled lab rooms, the exhaustion of training—the events similar to those she had already seen and proved of no immediate use. She focused her search, layering the image of the headphones over Agracia’s memories, frantically trying to find a match before she was completely pushed out. Then she saw it.

  “I hate this godich noise.”

  Razar’s voice. He stood somewhere above her. She squinted, trying to make him out, but it was too hard to see in the circle of exam lights.

  “This is that gorsh-shit the Scabbers listen to. It’ll blend right in.”

  She caught a glimpse of a red-haired man as headphones were slipped over her head. She struggled at first, but as the music repeated over and over, she found herself lulled into a stupor.

  “This one is our toughest Agent; Unipoesa’s training made her resistant to our standard conditioning. She’ll have to wear these things almost continuously to keep her sensitized to our input. It also means we’ll only be able to trigger her with visual stimuli.”

  “I don’t care,” Razar said, sounding unusually irritated. “I want her stationed as soon as possible. Keep this quiet.”

  “Get out of my head!” Agracia screamed, kicking Jetta in the leg.

  Jetta reeled backwards, head spinning as Agracia’s psyche shoved her out. Righting herself against one of the vertical pipes, she pointed at the headphones. “I know what they’re for.”

  “Tell me,” Agracia demanded, approaching her, one hand cupping her forehead in pain.

  “Back off—you know what I can do to you,” Jetta said. That much was still true. Even if she couldn’t read Agracia’s thoughts or glean her knowledge, she could still make her nightmares come alive.

  “Tell me,” Agracia said, adamant, but backing off.

  “Tell me about my tattoo,” Jetta countered, stepping toward her.

  “Chak you both!” Bossy said, wedging her tiny body between Agracia and Jetta. “I don’t get you, Grace. You let this leech flip your head!”

  “Get off, Bossy—it ain’t like that! Use your chakking head. If it weren't real, then she be killin' us already!”

  The pint-sized warrior looked crushed, as if someone had just killed her best friend. “Fine. Chak you, Agracia. I’m outta here.” Bossy slammed the door behind her, cussing as she went.

  “Aren’t you going to follow her?” Jetta asked.

  “You don’t know Bossy. That would be a bad idea. Gotta let her cool off a bit,” Agracia said, sitting down on a crate. She pulled out a smoke but looked puzzled when she went to light it. “This isn’t me, is it?”

  Jetta put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know. A few hours ago you were a drunken slob that was selling me in the circuit. Now you’re a confused ex-military project or something. Guess we’re going to find out.”

  Agracia flicked the cigarette away, but after a moment, she collected it off the floor and lit it. “I’ll tell you everything about your tattoo—you have my word—if you help me get out. Me and Bossy have enough trouble on Earth—we don’t need no Skirts on our tails as well.”

  Jetta closed her eyes, touching her sister’s thoughts. She pressed Jaeia about whether she should follow up on the tattoo lead with Agracia.

  There is trouble now, Jaeia said, sharing images of the borderworlds readings, the communications blackouts, and how the Alliance was unable to contact several colonies.

  The Alliance is in a Class 7 emergency, Jetta thought to herself. This is my top priority as commander of the SMT. Even though she was still unsure of her loyalties to the Alliance, especially after what she had seen in Agracia’s memories, Jetta couldn’t deny her inner pull. I owe it to my sister to fight any kind of threat against the Starways.

  “I can’t stay; I have to go back. But I will find you, believe me,” Jetta said, looking at Agracia straight in the eye. “There is no place you can hide from me now. I’ve been in your head.”

  The Scabber Jock held up her headphones. “What about these?”

  “Give them to me,” Jetta said, taking them from her. “You have no use for them anymore.”

  “Hey!” Agracia said, trying to take them back. “You never told me what they—”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Jetta said, holding them away from her, staring her down. “And besides, you played me in the fighting rings. The least you could do is trade me your headphones for all that work—unless you think I’d have more fun grinding your brains.”

  After giving Jetta a petulant look, Agracia dropped her gaze to her feet and mumbled under her breath.

  Jetta gathered what few things she had, mainly the birthday present from her sister that she had been careful to stow away in a broken pipe. Even though she had made many unsuccessful attempts to zoom in on her location, she gave it one last effort.

  “That a map?” Agracia asked.

  Jetta withdrew her eye from the orb. “Yes, but it doesn’t work here.”

  “Not surprising. Nothin’ll penetrate the atmosphere. It’s poisoned, ya know.”

  Jetta knew Agracia was trying to be funny by pointing out the obvious, but it didn’t amuse her.

  Agracia sighed. “I guess you’ll want me to take you to the surface.”

  “Yes. That is, unless you want me to loot your skull again,” Jetta replied.

  Agracia watched as Jetta wrapped a scarf around her head and face. “You know what’s sorta ironic?”

  Jetta didn’t care to respond as she made a mental list of what she was going to need for her journey.

  “My mom—or my fake mom—she named me Agracia. It means ‘without God’s grace.’ But that little detail, just like the rest, was made up. Somebody wanted me to feel like a dirty meatbag, just like the rest of the Scabbers.”

  Having experienced some of Agracia’s life, Jetta felt an uncommon depth to her words. Agracia had tried to pass it off as a casual observation, but Jetta knew the sadness behind it and couldn’t help but share in her pain, if only for a moment.

  “But what am I now?” Agracia continued, turning over her hands. “Part of me—most of me—is afraid to remember the past. Maybe being a cheap forgery is better than digging up old garbage.”

  Jetta couldn’t argue with that. Some things were best left forgotten.

  Eager to meet up with her sister and get away from Agracia’s uncomfortable feelings, Jetta nodded her head towards the door. “We’ll have to barter for radiation suits at the market. I saw your winnings in your pocket,” Jetta said, pointing to the bulge in the side pocket of her pants. “That should be enough, right?”

  Agracia mumbled under her breath again, but didn’t dissent.

  Jetta hung back when they hit the markets, allowing Agracia to deal with the other Scabbers a
nd Jocks for suits, noting how differently they treated her without her sidekick. Agracia was fierce enough in her own right, but it was Bossy who made her a bully.

  “I got only one suit,” Agracia said, returning with an overstuffed duffel bag. “There’s a storm comin’ and a lot of the Jocks are running jobs right now. I guess some big shot investor is takin’ a real liking to Earth.”

  Jetta suited up behind a vendor, keeping track of Agracia’s peripheral thoughts. She’s extremely concerned about Bossy, even if she doesn’t show it.

  “You think that Bossy has a past like you—made up?” Jetta asked as she cinched the suit tight around her waist and checked her radiation meter. God, I hope that’s broken, she thought, seeing the meter already in the black.

  Agracia shrugged her shoulders. “Well, she’s not normal, not for a Scab. She looks like a young kid, but she ain’t. And she’s quicker and stronger than any human—any Sentient—I’ve ever seen. She ain’t right.”

  Jetta nodded, making a note to investigate that when she could safely return to Earth.

  “Look, I can’t go with you,” Agracia said. “You’ll be safe in the suit—anybody will just think you’re a Jock going to the surface. Just keep to yourself, don’t mess with anybody’s head, and you’ll stay undercover.”

  “You’re not leading me to the surface?”

  Agracia looked back to the crowd, scanning for something or someone. “I told you—I got enough problems here. I gotta settle a few things, find Bossy. I’ll draw you a map.”

  She’s only telling half the truth, Jetta thought, extending her psionic reach. She fears that I’ll turn her over to the military.

  Carefully delving deeper into Agracia’s mind, Jetta sensed a complexity to that truth. It’s not just because of what she’s done to me... Agracia is afraid of what her subconscious already knows, but her mind has yet to remember.

  (I know that feeling all too well—)

  “Can you remember my signature if I tell it to you?” Jetta said, pushing aside her feelings.

  Agracia rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a jerk. I’m probably just as smart as you.”

  Jetta gave her the twenty-digit code. “That’s the easiest way to get hold of me. And don’t try anything stupid.”