THE HUB APPEARED ONLY briefly after it flashed the borrowed and newly spun body of Jahx Kyron out into the folds of space-time. It chose a female form this time, with translucent skin and eyes that twinkled like the stars.
“We will trust you to take us home, and in return, we promise to give you more than you asked of us.”
A glowing, hexagonal object materialized on the empty bed in the treatment room. It fit neatly in Jetta’s palm. It was warm to touch, and heavy to hold. “What is this?”
Jaeia took it from her and followed the contours of the piece with sensitive fingers.
“This is the Hub. It’s trusting us with its life.”
Jetta thought about it. “There’s only one place that’s safe.”
JETTA REALIZED WITH amusement that she didn’t have to seek Admiral Unipoesa’s authority anymore to commission the Star Runner. Although the military senior council’s backing of her appointment to co-chief commanding officer helped solidify her position against any backlash from the General Assembly, it by no means quelled the public’s unease in the wake of Victor’s brutal slander of the Kyron siblings. However, with the announcement that she had not only found Dr. Kurt Stein, but located the Ark, the promise of a renewed Starways quieted any arguments that her or her siblings did not deserve their place protecting the galaxy.
Jahx was still fidgeting in his uniform when they arrived in orbit.
“What’s wrong?”
Jahx made a face. “Were polytech blends always this itchy?”
Jetta chuckled. Jahx was still getting used to the workings of his new body. As far as she was concerned, he was just as he should have been, blue eyes and all.
Jaeia joined them at the viewport overlooking the mountainous planet.
“It doesn’t look so bad from orbit.”
Jetta shuddered. “This is about as close as I ever want to get again.”
Gray eyes met hers. “Agreed.”
With a nod, Jetta gave the signal to the helmsman. Two specialized pots jettisoned from the docking bay. One held the evolving life form of an artificial intelligence. The other, a man without a name.
The official documents would read that Victor Paulstine, formerly Ramak Yakarvoah, was banished to the Labor Locks of Plaly IV after his intergalactic trial for his crimes against the Sentients. But the triplets, like many of the high councilmen, feared that if Victor were imprisoned there, he would either find a means of escape, or worse yet be killed.
Kill him, and another will take his place, Jetta thought as the pods streaked through the upper atmosphere of the diseased planet.
Victor believed he was the devil. Jetta did not know what he was, only that he didn’t deserve the quick release of death or the chance at another life. And since he ensured his longevity by ingesting the life-extending Smart Cell Series #117 1,100 years ago on Earth, she knew there was only one solution.
Jetta rang in his pod. A feeble-looking old man appeared on the monitor. His diamond teeth had been stripped down to their metal studs. He had been given only one change of clothes, a gun with a limited clip of ammunition, and a bit of water to tide him over until he had safely reached the caves.
“You think this is over?” he hissed, spittle spraying the camera lens. “This is far from over.”
Jetta felt her siblings worry about her response, but she had been prepared for this moment. “Victor—I hope that you live a long, long time.”
The transmission bleeped out as the pod safely landed near the Exiles’ former home.
He’d better be fast enough to get up the side of the mountain before the infected find him.
She couldn’t imagine him standing up to one of those creatures.
The thought drifted between the three of them. What’s keeping him from killing himself?
Jahx answered the question. “He’s afraid of death. He’s terrified of what awaits him on the other side.”
They watched in silence as the second pod transmitted its landing coordinates. It had been difficult to convince the military council to allow the Hub to be released on Tralora, especially after it had proven so helpful in flashing the entire Fleet during the battle at Jue Hexron. There were many charged arguments and fearful questions, even a motion to recapture the artificial being and reinstall it within the confines of the Alliance network, but the Kyrons, with Jaeia leading their deputation, had been persuasive in their advocacy for the emerging intelligence. As her sister argued, it should not be limited to the wave network, nor should it be divided and re-imprisoned in the Alliance mainframe.
“Good,” Jetta said, rechecking the status of the defense perimeter. The Hub had deactivated the defense system prior to taking physical form, but she had to make sure as it hurtled toward its new home.
The Narki city, once the technological capital of the galaxy, she thought. Now a ghost city, with more servers and electronic matrices than any other planet. I can’t imagine a more perfect location.
“What do you think it meant, when it said it would give us more than we asked of it?” Jaeia asked.
Jetta held back her thought. The Hub had given back their brother. There was only one more thing it could do to make things right.
Seconds after Jaeia had asked the question, the call came in from the Alliance Central Starbase.
“Put it through,” Jetta said, taking the secure line on an isolated terminal.
The three Kyrons hovered over the transmission. DeAnders face appeared, his eyes wide and beaming.
“They’re back!”
IT TOOK SEVERAL WEEKS for the Exiles to be fully cleared by the medical teams after their abnormally long transition through the wave network. Despite the setback with the Grand Oblin, Jetta and Jaeia celebrated the revival of Senka, Crissn, and Rawyll with much jubilation. None of the Defense/Research team could rationally explain the sudden reemergence of the three, or the continued comatose state of the Grand Oblin.
“How did you do it?” Senka asked Jaeia, hugging her for the ninth time as DeAnders read and reread her vital signs. After recovering her speech on day three, no one could get her to stop talking and asking questions.
Jaeia decided it was best not to tell her about the involvement of the Hub just yet. “We had to get some help from a new friend. It’s a long story.”
Jetta was introducing Jahx to Senka when a flashing light caught Jaeia’s eye on one of the remote terminals. With everyone else in a flurry over Senka’s improvement, she walked over and checked the incoming message herself.
Thank you, Jaeia Kyron. You are a good friend to us. Because you set us free, we will tell you our greatest secret. We have modified your flash-transport device. Now we have something that can take us all beyond the confines of this universe.
The message erased as soon as she read it.
Jetta and Jahx both stopped their conversation and looked her way as she shared what she had read through their bond.
Jahx lifted a brow. “The universe just got a little bigger.”
JETTA ONLY RECEIVED one transmission on the whereabouts of Mantri Sebbs. In her regular slew of electronic fan mail and death threats, she found an ad for a methoc detox center. At first glance she thought it was a hoax, but after a moment she recognized the sardonic prose coded into the graphics.
I feel like I’ve answered for whatever wrongdoings I’ve committed against you and many others. Even after they “fixed” my brain, I’ve stayed off booze and smokes and live cleanly now. I can’t go back to what I was, but I’m not sure I’d want to anyway.
Don’t bother trying to contact me. I’ve joined an anti-military group on some godforsaken moon in unregulated space. It’s hell, but that suits me now.
I’m always tired. I rarely sleep. I only dream of the past, and that day I met you.
—M. Sebbs
In a message piggybacked on an invitation to a peace summit, Jetta wrote him back. She didn’t know what exactly to say to him after so much had transpired. But she had seen the change in
him, and chose to believe in that.
Mantri—
Thank you.
J. Kyron
THE RESCUED PRODGIES performed many miracles upon their return, including the restoration of former Military Minister Tidas Razar. Wren had expressed his concern over the Prodgies healing the infamously prejudiced former Minister, especially since Razar had not only put Triel in cryostasis but secretly underwritten policies to keep her isolated from the rest of the Alliance crew as soon as she was inducted. Corbas put aside Wren’s fears, reiterating the Prodgy belief in peace, forgiveness, and acceptance, and that they would heal Razar as a tribe, protecting themselves and Razar from the threat of Falling.
Jaeia made sure to be there as they wheeled Senka in to visit her uncle in intensive care.
“Senka—my dear Senka!” Razar said, pushing aside the medical staff hovering over his bed to get a better look at his niece. He beckoned her with open arms, tears spilling down his face. “I never thought...Oh, my Gods...”
“He’s getting too worked up,” Dr. Kaoto muttered under his breath, checking the data readouts on the monitors next to Jaeia. “I might have to sedate him.”
“I understand. But this is nice,” Jaeia commented, stepping aside so that Senka could reach her uncle. She left out the rest of her thought: Especially after all the reasons I’ve learned to resent him.
“Jaeia...” Razar turned to her, eyes bright. “Oh, Jaeia, my niece—I never thought I’d see her again!”
Smiling politely, Jaeia let him have his moment. Oh Minister, if you only knew what’s to come...
Even though the Prodgies had healed the former Minister, he had not fully acclimated or been informed of all that had transpired since his accident. Above all, he did not yet know of his own forced retirement and impending intergalactic trials.
I don’t know how Tarsha did it, but she exposed your role in the Command Development Program, she thought, watching Razar. And somehow, despite her outspoken anger at her father, protected Unipoesa’s record of participation. The entire Starways is going to come after you now.
Forgetting the world around them, Senka and Razar talked of her future plans. Senka told him some of what she knew about the discovery of Kurt Stein and the Ark, and of her excitement at the prospect of rebuilding planets.
“It’s going to take a little while. I need to brush up on a lot of biology and environmental science,” she chortled. “But it will be nice to be working on a peace mission.”
Senka combed back her uncle’s stringy white hair. “You need a shave and a haircut, badly.”
Razar’s face hardened. “No. What I need to do is get out of this place.” He looked at Jaeia with stern eyes. “Tell the General Assembly and the military council that, effective immediately, I am standing down as Military Minister!”
“Uncle!” Senka gasped.
“No,” he said adamantly. “Seeing you changes everything.”
As she watched the Minister argue with Dr. Kaoto to be released, Jaeia decided it was more than that. There’s something different about the Minister. She wasn’t sure if it was the coma, the Prodgy restoration, or seeing his beloved niece, but the Minister wouldn’t return to his military station.
It made her smile.
UNIPOESA SAT NEXT TO a full bottle of Old Earth vodka, unsure of why he had not yet filled his glass and started on his journey to inebriated bliss. Everyone else was celebrating Jaeia Kyron’s peacetime speech. His occasion was not as joyous as the liberation of the Starways or the promise of Kurt Stein’s Ark, but it was certainly a cause for drinking. His son was dead, his daughter alienated.
And Maria has found someone new, he quickly reminded himself.
Unipoesa got out from behind his desk and moved to the window overlooking Trigos and the stars. The cheers from the hallways echoed up to his room. He wished he could get away from it all, find some isolated expanse, but there was no place that could protect him from himself.
His desk beeped.
Godich; I thought I blocked all incoming message.
He waited for the caller to hang up, but after three minutes, he was irritated enough that he checked the listing.
Out of network.
Curiosity led him to accept the transmission.
An upturned nose pressed into the camera lens. “He ain’t gonna answer.”
“Move over, Bossy, he answered!”
The picture shook as the two exchanged seats. Someone belched loudly in the background. Finally, Tarsha came into full view.
“Tarsha—”
“Don’t say anything,” she cut him off. “You’ll ruin it.”
Absently, he took his chair and brought the monitor as close to him as he could.
“You kept your promise—so far. You let me and Bossy go,” she said as her companion made lewd gestures with her lollipop in the background. “That makes me less inclined to try and kill you.”
“That’s good.”
Tarsha’s eyes remained serious, her voice unyielding. “Bossy and I are going to find her other sisters. Maybe after all that’s settled, and you continue to keep your promise to leave us alone, I might think about calling you up.”
“Tarsha, I—”
“Might,” she stressed, stabbing her finger into the camera. Her face relaxed a little, and she leaned back into her chair.
“You’re one lucky bastard to have the Kyrons in your corner. If it weren’t for them, I might have killed you before I left.”
Unipoesa didn’t understand right away. What had the Kyrons done? Then his gut told him: Jaeia talked to her. Jaeia had witnessed his conversation with the Minister when he had had his catharsis. She must have shared something about that with Tarsha. That was the only explanation for why she would even bother to contact him now.
“So,” Tarsha said, her hard expression breaking a little. “What’s her name?”
“What?”
“Her name? Your type doesn’t join the military seeking power. You did it to protect someone, probably a woman. Saw it all the time on Earth.”
He couldn’t keep the tears from forming, but he didn’t let them fall. If nothing else, he decided, she deserved to know the truth.
“Her name was Maria. She was my wife... and the mother of my children.”
I NEVER THOUGHT I’D return to Fiorah, Jetta thought, breathing in the hot, recycled air as she stepped off of an Alliance-acquired mercenary ship and onto the red-rock surface. She looked up, seeing the transparent airfield dome covering the city and remembered darker times. Especially with my siblings.
Everything looked different. The Alliance had started to slowly introduce community funding to repair condemned housing structures and bring some of the lower-income buildings up to code. Although crime lords still ruled the streets and the Underground, with the prospect of a better life, a small movement had begun among the people to instill a democratic governing body. Flyers for the first election decorated street signs and bus stop benches. Jetta even spotted a few people constructing a voter registration booth near a newly-erected health clinic.
Fiorah still isn’t safe, or a good place to be a kid, she thought as she passed by a rag-tag group of children begging near a boarded up pawn shop. Digging into the pockets of her disguise, she gave them what cash she could spare without drawing attention to her or her party. Even a little went a long way. One boy, covered in dirt, his left eye swollen shut from a suspicious injury, gave her a lingering look before scampering off. But at least change is coming.
But most of all, Jetta no longer felt afraid. It wasn’t that she was much bigger, or that she could now command her greatest talent.
I know who am, she thought, not shying away as a junkie, clutching his bottle of booze, cursed in her direction. She saw past his words and the drugs lacing his mind, right down to the memories locked away by pain. Secrets unfolded, revealing more than just his world and all of its intricate workings. And I see all that can I do.
As they approached
the warehouse district, Jetta allowed Aesis to take the lead, but kept her brother and sister behind her. Hard cash got them access into the parasitic tunnels of the Underground Block, and her sister’s second voice helped them slip past the flesh gangs and into the slave chamber corridors.
“Yahmen’s using your aunt and uncle to stock the organ carts and sell young children and babies at the auctions,” Aesis said as they traveled down dark passageways lit by an occasional bare bulb. The screams and moans echoing down the corridors tore at her mind, only to be outdone by the competing smells of rot and waste.
Of course he’d make them sell kids, Jetta thought, remembering Galm’s confession to purchasing them from a drifter in the Underground Block. She couldn’t think of a more deranged torment for her sweet adoptive parents.
We’re almost there, Jaeia said, soothing her tension before she worked herself up.
One last obstacle. A guard, two meters tall and armed to the teeth with guns and knives stood in front of the main slave chambers. Green-scaled skin and yellow, feline eyes made her suspect an outerworlder origin, but she couldn’t be sure.
Let me take this one, Jetta called to her sister.
Are you sure? I don’t know what species he is; he might be resistant, or even able to detect our talents.
Trust me.
Before Jaeia could respond, Jetta felt her brother engage her sister in a private conversation. Seconds later, they both gave their silent approval.
Using slave-trader hand signals, Jetta attempted to work a deal. “A thousand, cash, for the Galm Drachsi and Lohien Chen.”
“Boss is keeping these two. No sale,” the guard said, hawking up something thick from his throat and spitting it dangerously close to Jetta’s boot.
Jetta read his mind, sensing his darker appetites. She considered catering to those when she caught the tail end of his deepest sorrow. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Yeah?” he said, chomping on a dehydrated human finger.
To keep from throwing up, Jetta focused on their objective. “I’ll give you this.”
Triorion Omnibus Page 159
