Weight of Gravity

by Sheron Wood McCartha

  Richard was noticing the difference too. “Why is everyone so unhappy looking?” he asked.

  The leader dropped back even with him. “They don’t want to be here,” he said as if stating a known fact. “Life here is hard with critical resources dwindling rapidly.”

  “If that’s the case, they should leave and go down to Alysia.” Richard stopped to scrutinize the place.

  Lieutenant Roberts pulled up short. “Chief Executive Stratton has proclaimed a moratorium on anyone leaving the station. We are too short-handed as it is. Enough explanations. He will answer the rest of your questions.”

  “Chief Executive Stratton?” Elise frowned. “When did Elliot Stratton start running the station?” She vaguely remembered a large, blond man with an intense personality who liked to tell others what to do.

  Lieutenant Roberts sighed. “After the coup when he took control.”

  “No!” John stopped abruptly. “What about the stationers? My wife and child?”

  Surprise overwhelmed Elise. Richard also appeared dumbfounded. No wonder she hadn’t heard from Jacob. She’d gotten involved with the birth of her daughter, then visiting the Homestead, and hadn’t thought anything was wrong when she hadn’t heard from him. She’d thought him busy. “Did you know of this?” she whispered to John.

  “Of course not. When I made any inquiries, Beth assured me that everything was fine. Of course,” he frowned, “that was a while ago. I’ve been preoccupied.”

  She swung around on Richard. “You used electronic messaging to communicate with Jacob?”

  “Yeah. Never suspected that it wasn’t him.”

  “Never suspected any change in station rule?”

  Richard shrugged. “A few events raised red flags, but we got distracted by the Homestead and your situation.”

  Lieutenant Roberts resumed walking. “That’s enough talking for now. You can talk when we get to headquarters.”

  Elise wrinkled her nose. “Headquarters?”

  He patted his holster and frowned. “I said no further questions.”

  With that, they went along quietly, but as they passed clumps of people there were murmurs of recognition. Some flashed her a hesitant smile while others glared in anger as if she had done something wrong.

  Fairly soon after, the group paused, as a rail car slid up to meet them. Their leader gestured them inside. The car picked up speed, passing boarded-up shops, drifting debris, and an unusual number of armed men patrolling the area. A slight scent of decay permeated the air. Somewhere, she suspected a recycler was malfunctioning or garbage lay uncollected.

  Finally, the car pulled up to a well-guarded area and they were hustled down a corridor and into a spacious room. It held a wall-to-wall burgundy rug, a table on their right cluttered with monitors and blinking electronics and a stack of dark cabinets along the left wall. A large heartwood desk with two front padded chairs sat at the far wall. Four guards in navy outfits, white piping along the edge of their pants, stood with their back against each of the four walls.

  “Go tell Chief Executive Officer Stratton that the Commander has arrived with her Alysian husband.”

  Elise blinked at this announcement, and Richard shifted uneasily. Tempest made a fussing noise, which Ian attempted to quiet. A frown on his face, John worriedly studied the room.

  Tall, blond, with a hawk-like face, Elliot Stratton strode into the room. He stopped to study Elise before his gaze flicked to Richard. He smiled at seeing John Luttrell. “Well, Commander, you have come to visit at last.”

  “With fresh produce,” Elise countered.

  “While we appreciate the gesture, your meager supplies are a drop in the ocean compared to our need.”

  Richard lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “Then make your needs more apparent.”

  Stratton’s face contorted into anger. “We did. Our pleas fell on deaf ears.”

  Elise slanted her head. “Can’t Elija help out? The Homestead is beginning to produce food and resources.”

  “He is coordinating with us. We also plan to enlist other countries that will help more than you have so far.”

  “They are more than welcome to share the burden,” Richard responded, a bit perplexed by the man’s angry tone. “In fact, we have been asking them to participate, but they have refused, citing their own shortages.”

  Scanning the room, Elise asked, “Where’s Administrator Monroe? I left him in charge.”

  Stratton straightened, his face stiff. “I’m in charge now. You’ll have to talk to me if it concerns the station. He’s unavailable.”

  Richard frowned and exchanged a look with Elise. “What’s that mean? He’s alive, isn’t he?”

  Tight-lipped, Stratton answered, “For the moment.”

  “He better stay that way.” Elise surged forward, fists clenched.

  “And you’ll do what?”

  Elise turned around, searching for Angel.

  He was nowhere to be found.

  Chapter 17

  Coup

  “Jacob.”

  Someone called his name from the top of a well while he sat at the bottom. The word bounced like a ping pong ball inside his head, bringing him to consciousness.

  Poke, poke, poke. A finger stabbed at his chest, and he blinked his eyes open. Brightness burned them, causing him hastily to shut them and groan.

  “Oh, apologies. Everything is so dark in here I needed light to see.”

  The glare receded, and he chanced another peek. He squinted out to see a dim room and the anxious face of Angel. “Angel? That you?”

  “Here. What happened? Why are you in this cell?”

  Jacob attempted to rise, feeling every muscle scream in protest. A hand helped lift him to a sitting position where he rubbed his face and tried to clear a foggy mind.

  What had happened?

  The hand withdrew, and for a few moments, he thought he’d merely dreamed of the discovery, or worse, had been abandoned by his rescuer. The cell echoed empty. He closed his eyes, trying to squelch a rising panic, afraid he had imagined the voice and was losing his sanity.

  A nearby rustle preceded Angel’s return. He leaned forward, thrusting a cup of water into Jacob’s face. “Here, drink this.”

  Hastily Jacob gulped down the precious liquid. Wiping his lips dry with a sleeve, he said, “Thanks.”

  “So? How did you warrant these great accommodations?” Angel’s hand swooped around the enclosure as he settled next to him.

  Jacob grimaced. “I was stupid. I trusted Elliott even after I was warned that he wanted to take over the station.” He shifted his position, ran his hand through his dark brown hair, noticed how dirty it was, and tried a smile that fell flat.

  He continued, “Too many were leaving the station, particularly the farmers and gardeners. The lure of unknown exotic animals and a vast variety of plants, including trees twenty feet tall, seduced them. How could the station compete with a vibrant planet when here was only a limited selection of hydroponic vegetation and a restricted variety of livestock? What idiot wants to tend cloned meat muscle in a lab when he can raise the real thing in open fields? Alysia offered far more once the stationers realized they could survive the heavier gravity and the uncontrollable weather. As greater numbers emigrated, the station declined until it reached a crisis point.”

  Angel rose and offered a lift. Jacob grabbed on and attempted a shaky stand. He took a breath. “Stratton said the station would die if a moratorium wasn’t imposed. I saw the logic of the argument, but I couldn’t eliminate a person’s right to free choice. He disagreed, brought in twenty men in a surprise coup, arrested me, dumped me in here, and took over.” Jacob shrugged. “I can’t believe he had no opposition, but I suppose those left behind were apathetic about what was happening or sympathetic to his program.”

  “They just need a strong leader. Someone willing to rally them.” Angel steered his arm. “Let’s get you out of here and somewhere safe.”

  “Some place wher
e I can get a shower and food?”

  Angel wrinkled his nose. “Most definitely.”

  ***

  Back in Stratton’s office, Elise said, “I need to talk to Carter Wright.”

  “And here I’d hoped you came to visit me.” Stratton gave her a cold grin.

  “Didn’t know you’d gotten so important.” Elise raised her eyebrows. Her eyes scanned the room. “This place is impressive for a space station’s office,’ she said.

  Swooping his hands around, Stratton laughed. “I’m running the station now, so I deserve a fancy office.”

  “Then, would you allow me a brief conversation with an old friend?”

  “If you can convince your old friend to work with us.” He slanted his head at her.

  Her eyes narrowed. “I can only do that if I’m able to talk to him.”

  Stratton studied her as she tried to appear confident and poised, but her hands were shaking. Richard leaned in, gave her a reassuring smile, and grabbed a hand to still its tremor.

  Stratton frowned and pointed at him. “He and the rest stay here to make sure you behave.”

  A chill thrummed through her, but a soldier ripped her hand from Richard’s and marched her out the door. As she cast a glance over her right shoulder, she glimpsed his encouraging smile but suspicioned the worry beneath it.

  ***

  The soldier unlocked and thrust her into a habitat unit.

  “Carter,” she said.

  His back was turned to her as he sat on the bed. The room looked as she would imagine an engineer’s room would look. A brief examination revealed hard ceramic walls, dark dresser, cluttered desk and discarded clothes that were draped on a chair or tossed onto the floor.

  “I’m not talking.” His muffled response hurt her heart, but he sounded like his old familiar stubborn self.

  She moved to the bed and sat behind him, putting her hand on his back. “I met your creation.”

  He gasped and swung around, eyes wide, and face shocked. “Elise! Oh, God. Elise. It’s you.” He gulped. “You saw it?”

  She sighed. “In person, or in machine, rather.”

  He buried his face in his hands. “I wanted to bring the Commander back from the dead. I worked so hard… but in the end, I realized it was merely a mechanical copy.”

  “You tried to play God.”

  “I got nowhere close.” A bitter smile crossed his lips.

  He peered out from his hands. “It could reason but was not alive. I don’t know how to explain, but the subtleties of our human emotions weren’t there. Everything that makes us human was missing.”

  “What? Hate, fear, ambition, love?”

  “Yes.” Abruptly, he realized they sat on a bed and hastily rose. He brushed at his wrinkled pants and shirt. “I realized it didn’t love me. Hell, Elise, it couldn’t feel any emotion… And, I realized that I didn’t love it either.”

  “So, you abandoned your construct and left the Homestead?”

  “For more reasons than that.” He tossed a few of the clothes from the chair onto the floor, sat down, and crossed his legs as he settled into it.

  “What did Elija want you to do?”

  An uneasy expression flickered across his face. “He wanted me to make another android, a much different model.” His lips set in a tight line as his eyes shifted away.

  She moved to the chair in front of the desk, sat, and leaned toward him, putting a hand on his knee. “Another Elise? For him?” She couldn’t imagine such a situation, but she had to ask.

  His eyes returned to hers. He shook his head. “Oh, no. Something far different.”

  She raised an eyebrow and waited, determined that the words would come from his mouth.

  His eyes stared on the floor at a space midway between them. In a hoarse voice, he whispered, “Elija wanted android soldiers. He said most of the new arrivals were farmers, miners, and craftspeople but not soldiers. He needed something that would protect the Homestead if President Courtland sent troops to attack us.”

  “And why would President Courtland do that?”

  The eyes lifted and glared at her. “We have been monitoring their transmissions. Alysians all over this world are protesting our presence. There’s been a political groundswell. As the newly elected Democratic Union president, Courtland is under a lot of pressure to remove us from the Union if not from Alysia entirely. It was part of his election platform. He’s not as sympathetic to our cause as his predecessor.”

  “Ummm… I’ve experienced the mindset. And yet, here you are… pouting in your room, hiding out.”

  “Civil Disobedience. It’s a tactic from old Earth. You refuse to do what is reprehensible to you.”

  “Fair enough. I’m not in favor of a bloody war with lots of death either. But can’t we open a dialog instead?”

  He rubbed at the arm of the chair. “I doubt they’d even listen.”

  She cocked her head. “How do you know until you’ve tried? My husband has a big mouth that he doesn’t hesitate to use on influential Alysians. And I’ll admit to the same tendency, except I favor Terrans. Sitting around here isn’t accomplishing anything. Besides, you must be hungry.”

  He chuckled dryly. “I’m starving.”

  “Okay, let’s start with something to eat and go from there.”

  “Stratton will never let me off the station.”

  She stood up and stretched out a hand. “He mentioned his moratorium to us. I hope it doesn’t apply to everyone--especially me or my family. I plan to leave. Keeping my family here would create some serious difficulties between us. Most find it wise not to cross me.”

  That brought on a smile and a choked laugh. “ You are like your mother in that regard.” He rose and scanned the room. His eyes alighted on the bed, then on her. An inexplicable expression briefly flitted across his face, reddening his cheeks. “I should shower and change into clean clothes before going anywhere.”

  She brushed the air forward. “Go, then. I’ll wait.”

  She settled back onto the chair as he left for the shower. Once he was gone, she tapped her foot, stared at the mess, and muttered, “Oh, frag. Might as well do something useful while I wait.” She leaned down and began to gather his clothes and straighten the room.

  “Could be home doing this,” she said to no one in particular.

  ***

  In a short while, Carter reappeared, looking much better and sporting a hesitant smile on his face. Two men posted outside his door unnerved her, but she decided to consider them escorts rather than armed guards.

  After grabbing a quick bite in a kitchen, her guards escorted them back where she was relieved to see Richard and Tempest in good shape. Ian sat bouncing her daughter on his knee and singing a silly little ditty. Richard glanced up as she sidled up to him.

  “I’m back,” she squeezed his arm, “with Carter.”

  “Someone’s missing,” he whispered.

  “I know.” She attempted to appear nonchalant as she scanned the room.

  Still no Angel. She wondered where he was.

  Just then, a loud boom echoed from somewhere outside the room. The station shook, causing everyone to lose their balance. They exchanged frightened looks.

  “This space station is a delicate piece of construction,” Richard yelled. “Your men need to be careful what they explode, or we could all end up as space debris.”

  Outside, a series of pops sounded in the corridor. Stratton’s men drew their weapons and crouched toward the entrance. Stratton lifted his head from his comm. “That didn’t come from my men. A band of misfits led by Jacob Monroe is trying to regain the station. They’re headed this way.” He pointed toward Elise. “Might you have any idea how he managed to escape his cell?”

  “Not a clue.” She shrugged. He gazed at her, moving next to question Carter, who also shook his head.

  While John tried to appear calm, his white-knuckle clutch on a nearby chair and pale face gave away his panic.

  Again, the s
tation shuddered. Now, loud screams mingled with explosions from somewhere outside.

  “Find out what’s happening and end it,” Stratton ordered his soldiers. The room emptied as his men piled out to investigate the commotion. Stratton waved his blaster at two men. “Stay here and watch them. I’ll be right back.”

  Giving a nod, one soldier took up a position by the door. Periodically, he checked the corridor for any approaching danger. Weapon drawn, the second soldier came to stand inside.

  After nodding imperceptibly to Ian, Richard backed toward a wall. His motion pulled the guard forward.

  “Keep still,” the guard grumbled and lifted his blaster. Richard’s eyes crossed as he stared down the barrel.

  “I’m only handing my daughter to my wife in case there’s trouble.” He passed Tempest to Elise, who hugged her tightly.

  Studying her husband for clues as to what to do, Elise noticed Richard had that familiar expression he often got when planning something unexpected. She feared what he might have in mind because she was certain he was about to do something rash.

  The first guard stepped out into the hall to check out the situation. Ian moved lightning fast and chopped the remaining guard on the back of his neck. Caught unaware, the man crumpled to the floor. Moving swiftly, Ian positioned himself behind the door so when the first guard returned, he also got an open hand chop behind the ear—a move no average caregiver should be able to execute. “Let’s go,” said the babysitter, who Elise was beginning to suspect might also be a designated I.N.Sys operative.

  “Ah, here.” Richard popped open a hidden panel. “It’s a utility corridor. Watch out for dangling pipes and cables. Across the room, Ian dragged the first guard into the room and locked the door. Pulling plastic restraints from his pocket, he secured the two unconscious guards to the sturdy desk. After gagging them, he grabbed a few items from his carryall and joined them.

  “That should hold them for a bit.” He grinned.

  “Hurry up,” Richard ordered. A push on her back thrust Elise into a passageway clogged with pipes of all dimensions. Covering Tempest’s front with her hand, she weaved her way forward, dodging overhanging plumbing and equipment that protruded from time to time along the curved sides.