Tehom: The Tehom Legacy Book One

by S. Abel de Valcourt

  “That’s kinda creepy man, seriously, but whatever.” Dorian laughed a bit.

  “So a lock of my hair, the watch, the photographs and the magnet… for the button?” Hardt summed it up in his mind.

  “No, the watch, the photographs, the magnet, and a lock of yours AND Mariposa’s hair, she is a Tehom Ginger too although distantly, and even though I’ve never met her, my collection would be lacking without it.” Augustinian mused.

  “Deal.” Dorian said abruptly.

  Hardt looked up at Dorian, and agreed, “Deal.”

  “Done then, the button is yours.”

  Augustinian then retrieved a small piece of tight wire and wrapped it around a sizable section of Harts curly ginger hair sniping it off with a pair of extremely sharp scissors.

  “Here is a bit of wire for Mariposa’s I will let you get to that in your own time. If you do happen to come across that diary, please let me know, I am sure we can come to some arrangement.”

  The two boys parted company and the door locked behind them, both quite a bit lighter in pocket than they had arrived, but all the more excited and in awe of their new treasure.

  “When are you going to give it to her?” Dorian prodded once they got back into their room.

  “Shh! I don’t want anyone to know I went to see The Collector, it will spoil the surprise. But soon, very soon.” Hardt slid closed the panel of his pod and looked around at his paltry possessions.

  Nobody on board had much in the way of personal property, which is why Earth/Rel was so popular and valuable. When something broke, or wore out it was a major loss. Art on board consisted mostly of drawings on parchment paper made from inedible plant refuse, every other piece of scrap or medium of art was studied and viewed digitally but never undertaken due to lack of spare materials and an obsession against waste.

  Chapter Twenty Three: The Black

  Silence. Silence marred only by heavy breathing and a slow dripping of blood on the metal floor. Ronar stood tall in the darkness, darkness that had permeated for countless days. When Samis and Zelde had finally made their move and executed their treason, the action had thrown the whole ship into chaos. None of the lights worked, the only power in the whole ship seemed to be pneumatic oxygen relays which kept the air fresh. Most of the people onboard the TOGS had convened in the only place with any natural light, the promenade. The vast ocean of stars outside provided only a fraction of what could be called light, however for now, it was all the light they had.

  Ronar had first murdered Eliisabet, he had held her down and stifled her breath while Zelde stabbed her with a sharpened magnetic pen repeatedly in a rage. The shocking murder had happened in full view of the council, and the ship had gone dark immediately after right on cue. In a perfectly orchestrated coup d’état, Zelde had made a single error. She had gone after the leadership figurehead, but not the true power on board. Eleanor Tehom, the last Alpha still lived.

  Eleanor had taken Neela and many of the remaining Tehom descendants miraculously in the dark to the forward nerve center of the ship and secured it. Rumors persisted that they had both light and power behind their impenetrable steel doors.

  Ronar felt around in the dark, the broken and lifeless body of Hardt Delta-Rush fell to the floor. Another murder, another successful hunt in the dark. Ronar had chased him through the dark corridors for hours, when his hands finally felt the soft flesh at Hardt’s neck he did not let go. The pair had wrestled briefly, brawn had overwhelmed intelligence and it had not been the first time. Between the murders of Eliisabet and Hardt, a count of fifteen had laid low at the hands of Ronar Gamma-Utgaard he had stalked them in the dark maze, those that got lost in the dark, and those that had chosen to hide and scurry like rats all had met a singular end.

  “Still hunting Ronar?” the voice of Zelde Delta-Wright called out in the darkness.

  “Rats. All of them little rats, especially this one.” Ronar grunted but didn’t turn around.

  “I am glad you finally found your prey. There is only one thing left to do now.

  “What?” Ronar seemed eager for direction.

  “You need to claim your prize!” Zelde laughed coldly, “Your little princess Mariposa is walled up in a fortress with the rest of the Tehom Bloodheads. It has been almost ten days now I think, our little plan has worked for the most part, time to finish it!”

  “I tried to get in, banged on the door for hours. Never heard a sound.”

  “Oh ye of little faith. Come, I will show you. But, when you do get to mount your little doe, I want to watch.” Zelde coaxed Ronar out of his hole and the two walked slowly out of the room and down the hallway.

  Around the pair a thin outline persisted, shadows and forms made by the reflection of starlight as they made their way into and through the promenade. Blankets and makeshift bedding, people paired off in twos and sometimes threes making muffled sounds in the darkness. A littered mass of humanity stuffed into a single pile, clutching to the only light they could and taking any distraction from the hopelessness of their situation.

  “Signo, are you here?” Zelde whispered into the darkness as they found themselves at the main portal into the forward compartments.

  “I’m here. I think I am ready.” Signo said, refusing to whisper.

  “Ready for what?” Ronar whispered, following Zelde’s lead.

  “If I trip this circuit, it should interrupt the mag-lock to this door, and default to open. Then we can end this whole thing and put an end to all of the Tehoms’.”

  The flood of light that entered the passage as the door slid open blinded all three of them, the pain of bright artificial lighting assaulting their sense after weeks in the dark was unexpected. The door slid open and all three cried out in shock and agony.

  “Quick, get under before they have a chance to override it and lock it again!” Signo called out to Zelde and the trio lurched forward.

  They could hear talking in the distance, not panic or alert, not shouting or even hushed tones. The three walked slowly, allowing their eyes to finally adjust.

  “…They have doomed us all, I don’t even know where they did it, much less how to override it. We are a full two weeks behind on the slowdown protocol. I don’t even know if everything went to form now if we would even be able to slip into orbit properly.” A nameless voice spoke.

  “We need to retake the rest of the ship, if we could…” Eleanor stopped and stared directly at Zelde, Signo and Ronar who stood in the entryway to the main compartment.

  Zelde appeared much as she always had, her hair a bit greasy, her makeup smudged and dark circles under her eyes. Signo lurched over and seemed to half want to crawl, his hair stuck out all over and he wore only a single shoe. It was the look of Ronar that Eleanor seemed shocked by. Ronar had matted hair, and was virtually naked, his hands and forearms were thick with blood, both dried and wet. All over him small scrapes and defensive marks from this victims.

  “And look at these idiots, a madman and two fools.”

  “Oh, I don’t think we have heard half their foolishness just yet. I think they see themselves as liberators, heroes, or maybe even Kings now!”

  “They don’t realize they have very possibly killed us all!”

  “What are you talking about, all we did was turn off the lights.” Signo muttered.

  “That’s all? You made us miss the engine cutoff by 14 days you asshole! The Bierre-Drive is pushing at 120% and climbing with the power imbalance and we can’t turn it off!” Neela shouted.

  “That’s not possible, Samis said…”

  “Samis said what, that once she stopped the flow of the the mini-reactors, that a dead-man’s switch would stop the core after 10 days and that the engine would stall? It didn’t work. We still have gravity, do you even use that brain of yours that you think is so superior? If we have gravity, the engine core is still spinning; if the engine core is still spinning it’s still pushing us at full speed!”

  The look that befell the faces of
Signo and Zelde passed from initial confusion to grave depression. Zelde looked around the ship for the first time with unclouded eyes. Even before the coup, small diode-bulbs had started to burn out all over the ship, not from any power surge or any kind of error, they had simply worn out from decades of use. Monitors had begun to de-interlace, keyboards were worn down to the point where none of the keys had letters on them anymore, Metal floor plates sagged in the middle from generations of people walking across them. The ship was designed for a singular purpose, not for exploration, not for luxurious travel, but instead served as a life boat. The ship was dying, passing into old age.

  “The ship is old Zelde, many of these pieces are far older than even I am. Before your little revolution, we might have made it to Tehom Prime. Maybe. I simply don’t see how we are going to stop drifting into infinite space and not passing Cassiopeia by like a tiny bump in the road.” Eleanor lowered her head and shook sadly.

  “I can get Samis to turn everything back on, we can figure this out, we have to do something!” Zelde cried out.

  “That would be a start.” Neela chided.

  The horde of red-haired Tehom descendants surrounded the three traitors as Zelde grasped a small microphone.

  “Samis, this is Zelde. We made a mistake, the whole ship is in danger…” Zelde broke down into tears. “…we still have gravity, do you understand what that means? It has been 14 days, we have to stop this, maybe something can still be done?” Zelde dropped to the floor in despair.

  “Samis, whatever you did to interrupt the power grid, you need to fix it. Every second we waste now makes our death even more likely. Please Samis, this isn’t about politics. If you…” Neela stopped, the sensor boards across the bulkheads had begun to light up as power slowly flowed through the systems across the ship.

  “Ronar what have you done?” Mariposa called out from behind them.

  Ronar turned, blood and madness covered every inch of him. “I…” he stammered.

  “He killed Hardt, and he killed Eliisabet, many others as well.” Zelde called out between her tears.

  “You killed Hardt?!” Mariposa screamed.

  Ronar raised his fist and knocked Mariposa into the wall, he took an angry step toward her but it proved to be his last.

  From the crowd five shots rang out, a loud sound in such an enclosed space echoed and bruised the hearing of everyone. Eleanor held in her hand an ancient pistol, something the rest of them had only heard about in books, games, or training simulations. A real pistol was something foreign, alien and wholly impossible. The others in the room simply stared in awe first at the pistol, then at the corpse of Ronar across the room.

  “My father gave me this, it was nearly ancient when he was given it as a boy. Firing a gun on board a spaceship is, ‘ill-advised’ he would say. But he still gave it to me on board, I have carried it since he passed.” Eleanor returned the pistol to its place under the wool blanket that covered her legs.

  Fear upon fear echoed across the ship. First the weeks spent in the darkness while Ronar murdered more than a dozen people, then the news of Zelde’s betrayal, the assassination of Eliisabet and finally the almost certain doom that they would rocket past their destination and float endlessly into nothingness until the ship could no longer support them.

  The depression which soaked into the population hit a peak during the 36 hour core shut down. A weightless time, the entire society locked away in their places as they remained strapped into their bunks. For days afterwords music didn’t play, work wasn’t done, most simply resigned themselves to their fate. A malaise of depression and sorrow permeated. Others demanded revenge or a perversion of justice involving the public execution of Zelde and Samis.

  Eleanor wouldn’t have it.

  “Now is not the time to be killing ourselves in punishment for killing ourselves!” Eleanor railed in the promenade’s public auditorium, “They both must answer for what they have done, but…”

  “I have to disagree Gran.” Neela stood up, contrary to her nature she glared hatefully across at the two defendants, “Zelde and Ronar, they murdered Eliisabet, no one can dispute that, we all saw it. Samis has quite likely killed the rest of us by following Zelde into darkness and evil. I say they are both lost causes, not worthy of saving, not worthy of living! Signo followed them both blindly and can follow them out the airlock too. Space the lot of them!”

  “Here here!” many in the crowded promenade shouted in agreement.

  “Please, children! We cannot allow hate and revenge to guide us…” Eleanor’s cries went unheard. “Neela! These two can be saved, they know what they did was wrong!”

  Neela seethed with a disgusted hate and turned away from her Grandmother, crossed her arms and shook her head.

  Grady Delta-Beauvers stood and tried his best to mediate and sound official, “This council has voted Neela Delta-Tehom as the permanent replacement for Eliisabet Gamma-Tehom as Chairwoman of this Council, while First Minister Eleanor Alpha-Tehom does still retain veto power over this body.”

  “The entire ship is looking for us to be united, we cannot leave here without a resolution, without a unanimous path forward.” Neela finally looked back to Eleanor.

  To the elderly woman, she looked so small sitting in a big chair. However, as she looked around the room she saw the child in each of them, scared children too long without much parenting left to run unchecked and unsupervised for generations.

  “You want to kill these people, out of anger, out of revenge, not out of justice. The most dangerous thing humanity has ever faced is humanity. In large numbers, our race calls out for blood, for ruin, for sadistic and primal revenge. I saw it as a girl on the Earth, news reports and video of the hatred of men toward other men, of the subjugation of women and the slavery of other people. You know this! You have all been taught it in your schooling, you know the frailties of men. This is that moment, this is that turning point in history where you, not me, you decide what kind of society you want to build.” Eleanor pleaded.

  “We are all going to die, we are all going to starve, or worse! Lost in the emptiness of space, and it is their fault!”

  “And what comes after that Mari? What happens if we skip past Tehom Prime into the black, we all die, the ship wears out and dies taking us with it? What happens when in a million, million years some new race, or creatures come across the only thing left of the human race and they see what we did to ourselves here? Or worse, what happens if people back on Earth get the technology and wherewithal to seek us out and one day in a thousand years find us all, and see this embarrassment?” Eleanor began to cough and wheeze, her frail frame couldn’t withstand the passion and raised voice coming from her mouth. “I am going to die soon, of that there is no doubt. I never expected to see Tehom Prime, but I never expected to see my children at each other’s throats either.” The ancient woman sunk in her wheelchair and seemed defeated.

  “We made a mistake.” Samis blurted out, “We made a massive mistake. But we didn’t feel like we had any choice, our voices were unheard, our ideas were treated like trash. Not once has anything we have said on the council been given anything other than an entertained smirk and a shake of the head. Why? Because we aren’t Tehom, because we aren’t Ginger, because we aren’t anointed by the popular posh genetics we all seem to treasure so much! We made a mistake, and we are all going to pay for it, we can’t go back and change anything. But maybe we can help, maybe we something we can do will help?” The girl paused and began weeping, “I… don’t want to die. I love Signo, and I just want to sit with him and hold his hand for the rest of my life. Please, please don’t do this.”

  Neela closed her eyes and turned her head, trying not to flinch. On many points both Eleanor and Samis were right, but bloody and scared crowds are difficult to quell. “We are a mob, an angry, horrible mob of people. Of course we have a right to be angry, we have every right to hate these three. But, hate and revenge only destroy ourselves. Right now we are all no better
than Ronar, we have been wronged and all we can think to do is bloody our hands… over, and over, and over. To take our mind off of what may be our doom.” Neela shook her head and took a deep breath. “Maybe we will survive this, it is long odds, but what if we do? Can we look back on this moment of fear and be proud of ourselves, or embarrassed?”

  The thousands of people, old men, children, pregnant women, generations of humanity gathered at a single point in the middle of the half derelict spacecraft in a small corner of interstellar space. All were dreadfully silent, there were few leaders among them, leaders were appointed and trained, and few wanted the position and simply followed.

  “It is a miracle we are even here, look around you, we were born for a small blue dot a third of the way across the galaxy. Maybe there is another miracle saved for us?” Eleanor spoke softly into her microphone.

  Neela stood up and announced her decision into the microphone and digital record. “Samis, Signo… and Zelde. You are stripped of your leadership and council positions, you are branded traitors to your fellow human beings, betrayers of humanity, murderers and schemers. Your voices will never be heard again, you will never the rest of your lives sow discontent, conspiracy or disunity among us. You are outcasts, beyond us and outside. You will live as rats among us, on charity and scrap, on mercy and on handouts. You will be given no rations, no quarters, no clothes, nothing. If these people choose to feed you, to clothe you, to show you charity and mercy, you will live at their whim. But for now, you will live.” The words dripped and seethed off her tongue in the most hateful but restrained way she would summon.

  “I concur.” Eleanor sealed the punishment and struck the deal.

  Chapter Twenty Four: A Room with a View

  Approaching Eta Cassiopeiae after several months of reverse thrust felt slower than the actuality. The trajectory, speed and position of the planets were all wrong as they were fifteen years and seven months ahead of schedule. The ship was in dire expectation of drifting out of the system and being lost in empty space forever.