Ghost in the Machine (Corwint Central Agent Files)

by C. E. Kilgore

  “Hey pretty lady!” The T’jaros lead speaker waved his hand behind Orynn and waited for her to turn back to him. “What’s that message you want us to tell that man?”

  Orynn mulled over the words of both Merik and Tara. “Please tell him to remember Inkaryk and Volkaryk.”

  The pirate’s face contorted in confusion as his lips repeated the message in a soft whisper. “That all?”

  “Yes.” Orynn nodded and turned her back to the T’jaros.

  “What does it mean?” Tara questioned.

  “It is an old tale from my people, before we were taken by the Tarsen and shown science.” Orynn took in a slow breath. She hadn’t told this story for a long time, and it still had the echoes of painful memories attached to it as it formed in her mind.

  “The sun, Inkaryk, forever chased Volkaryk, the moon of our planet, across the sky. Inkaryk burned with his anger and desire as he futilely chased Volkaryk. He burned so harshly, that none would join him in the sky or on the land and he was left alone. Volkaryk, who did not burn as brightly but shared her small light with the night sky, was joined by many stars and the people of the land. Volkaryk may have lived in the shadow of the night, but she was never alone and was never caught by Inkaryk. One day, Inkaryk burned so fiercely with his madness that his spirit died and his brightness dwindled to half. It is a fable my people used to explain the collapse cycle of the Cepheid class star that is in our system.”

  Ethan thought it was a figuratively interesting way for a people without scientific knowledge to explain their world, but he wondered why it would make sense to this man chasing her. “And this person will know that tale?”

  “Yes.” Orynn drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes as her mind filled with the mistakes of her past. “He loved the story as a child.” Not wishing to elaborate further, she headed toward the hangar exit.

  “Hey pretty lady!” Orynn stopped and tensed at hearing the grating voice of the T’jaros male again. “You said one of us should deliver message, yes? Which one?”

  Her patience for them was at its end, and she could no longer stand the presence of their unsavory auras. The heavy emotions surrounding the memories of the boy who was now the man hunting her boiled to the surface and the reverence she was emitting wavered. The expressions of admiration on the faces of the T’jaros began to melt into a growing and seething anger. She felt Merik push seductively against her lapse in control, and this time she jumped.

  Her aura shifted violently into a pitch-black sea of rage and spite that arced with charges of electricity as the Wraith within her dug its claws into her heart and tore at its flesh. She felt the air leaving her lungs and a shadow clouded her eyes as her control fell apart.

  This was the legacy the Tarsen had left her people; ashen lands, broken wombs and the vile abyss of the Wraith. This was what lay behind the mask of soft smiles and feigned innocence, and this was the monster that her sisters had tried to erase from history. “Fight it out amongst yourselves.”

  Behind her, several of the men let our snarling yells of hatred directed toward their brethren and others let out cries of pain as they were attacked. The T’jaros Pack set upon one another like rabid dogs, using knives, teeth and claw to tear at the flesh of any man around them. The crack of bone accompanied the yelps of the weakest, while the strongest bellowed their challenges to one another.

  Her lip raised in a sneer as the fighting raged behind her and filled the hangar with their cries. Animals. Let them wallow in their banality. Let them feel the offensive nature of their existence and drown in it. Let them gasp for breath and know no peace. Let them know the stinging touch of a Wraith.

  “They’re tearing each other apart!” Tara shook her head at the chaos. The floor beneath the T’jaros had become slick with blood and the stench of it made her cover her nose and mouth.

  “Glorious, isn’t it?” Merik watched with a satisfied wonderment. What he was seeing went beyond the natural capabilities of a Vesparian. He was witnessing the true power of a Tarsen genetically engineered Wraith. It filled him with joy to know that a being he thought had long died out still existed. The large T’jaros who had been speaking earlier tore the arm off the man who had stuck Merik with the pocket knife and proceeded to beat his face in with it.

  Merik let forth a monstrous laugh. “My bet’s on that one.”

  Ethan grabbed Orynn’s arm and drew her close to him. He didn’t want to believe that she was capable of letting this happen. “You have to stop this.”

  The sound of Ethan’s voice cut into her spirit and the storm raging from her faltered. Where Merik’s aura brought out the darkness that churned just beneath the surface, Ethan’s touch went deeper and brushed against the part of her that she feared even more. There was a sense of serenity there, and a heart that had cost her so much.

  His hand squeezed her arm gently and she brought her eyes up to look at him. On his face was not anger or disgust with what she had done. His eyes showed only concern.

  Merik watched with disappointment as the mob’s brutality subsided. Several of the T’jaros who were still breathing looked around in confusion. He looked over his shoulder at the exchange between Ethan and Orynn with a bitter disgust. The idea that a creature as captivating and alive as her could find any connection to a machine, and that the machine could subdue her true nature, infuriated him.

  That damn machine was ruining his fun. With a growl, he drew out two black-metal, heavy barrel pistols from the twin holsters in the small of his back. With several quickly aimed blasts, all but one of the T’jaros fell to join their slaughtered pack mates. The one left standing was still holding the disembodied arm he had been using as a weapon a few moments before. “Looks like I win that bet after all.”

  “Fuck sakes, Merik.” Brom didn’t like T’jaros either, but what he just witnessed brought back the memories Orynn had shared about his people during the Tarsen wars. A thousand years ago, that would have been his people on the battlefield, tearing each other’s limbs off as a Vesparian Wraith walked among them.

  Hank had trouble finding the words at first to describe his exact thoughts on the entire situation. He felt like he was watching some strange horror vid show, and he was expecting at any moment for the T’jaros to come back as zombies and start eating their brains. He pointed at the bloody mess and glared at Merik. “Was that really necessary?”

  “Well,” Merik shrugged and holstered his guns. “She said there could be only one, didn’t she?” Hank’s mouth moved without words forming completely and Merik thought he looked like a fish. Stifling a laugh, Merik turned to the last T’jaros standing and offered a smile. “Congratulations, you are the winner! Now leave before I send the message pinned to your corpse.”

  “Yes sir.” The T’jaros saluted. “I promised the pretty lady it would get delivered and deliver it I will! Remember Inkaryk and Volkaryk. Remember Inkaryk and Volkaryk.” The man repeated over and over as he left the hangar through a side exit.

  “Orynn, why?” Tara was watching the pool of blood beneath the pile of corpses as it started spreading across the hangar floor. “Why?”

  “Don’t feel sorry for that lot, Tara, and don’t blame Orynn for what they did, either.” Merik crossed his arms. He was in no mood to be judged. “I saw what they were and so did she. What you just witnessed was their true nature. All Orynn did was remove their inhibitions. They got no less than they had given to others.”

  “Did they?” Ethan was addressing his question to Orynn. He could see the regret forming on her face.

  Orynn let herself stare into the deep blue of his eyes and go numb to the room around her. He was looking at her with a concern she felt she didn’t deserve. The burning light that was chained beneath the Wraith inside of her spirit broke free to the surface and inhaled deeply. It screamed in anguish at what she had done and shrunk away from her. The darkness latched onto it and pulled it back under. When she finally found her voice again, it was muted and lifeless.

&
nbsp; “Do not forget what I am, Ethan.”

  Ethan’s grasp on her arm loosened at the haunted sound of her voice, and she slipped from his hand and walked away.

  18 Aftermath

  Silence filled the hangar, along with the stench of blood and entrails. They had just witnessed an unbelievable chaos and the stories about the Wraiths had been made real before their eyes. It was hard to comprehend the sheer brutality of what those men had done to one another. For Ethan, it was even harder to comprehend that Orynn had been the source of it all. He had just seen yet another side of her, and he wondered what else lay hidden within her. Perhaps he should have felt anger or disgust at her, but he felt only a deep concern. The burning rage he did feel rising within him was directed entirely at someone else.

  “C’mon, T. Let’s finish loading those crates.” Brom wrapped an arm around Tara’s shoulder and started guiding her away from the spreading blood on the floor and out of the hangar. “Come’n Cap?”

  “In a sec.” Hank was still glaring at Merik. They were lucky the whole port security force, what little there was of one, wasn’t pouring into the hangar with weapons drawn. He guessed the sensors had been disabled due to the construction, or the alarms would have gone off when the S.T.V. had. As Brom and Tara made their way out of the hangar the same way Orynn had left, Hank prepared to finally give Merik a piece of his mind. Trexen or not, he was still an agent for Central, and they had rules.

  Before Hank could open his mouth, Ethan took two strides towards Merik, drew his arm back and slammed his fist squarely into the Trexen’s jaw. Unable to read Ethan’s thoughts, the jab caught Merik completely by surprise and he stumbled back a few steps. Ethan took another stride forward with clenched fists.

  “You sadistic son of a bitch!”

  “I won’t argue that.” Merik chuckled and spat blood onto the floor as he rested his hands on his knees. It didn’t take him long to recover, but his jaw throbbed painfully. Smiling through the pain, he straightened up with a trail of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

  “Calm down, Ethan. I’m pissed off at him too, but I think this hangar has seen enough violence for one day.” Hank reached for Ethan’s shoulder, but Ethan brushed him off.

  “He was leading her on the entire time, Hank. I could see him toying with her mind.” Ethan pointed an accusatory finger in Merik’s face. “You wanted her to go that far!”

  “What’s the matter, tin-man?” Merik flashed his fangs tauntingly. “Did I ruin your pristine vision of her? Don’t like her so much now that you’ve seen her true colors? Or perhaps that little bit of dark rapture turned your gears.” He raised his eyebrows and made a lewd gesture with his tongue to push Ethan’s anger over the edge. “I don’t think you’re really her type anyway, Ethan. Not enough life in you.”

  “We’ll see what life is left in you when I’m done.” Ethan swung back for another punch, but Hank stepped in the way.

  “You’re better than this, Ethan.” Hank held up both hands as Ethan’s arm remained steady in the air. The same uncontrolled anger flashed across Ethan’s face that had been directed at him just a day earlier. It was a rage fueled by passion. Despite having witnessed it before, he still found it startling to see such an expression on the Mecha’s face. It revealed that the Mecha had become emotionally attached to Orynn and Hank wondered just how deep that attachment had become. It also scared him to think how far Ethan might go and what he could be capable of with his built in strength and agility.

  Ethan kept his anger focused on Merik’s smug smile. “He’s a loose cannon and a liability.”

  Merik laughed again. “At least I have the balls to do what needs to be done. Do you even have balls?”

  “Enough, Merik.” Hank turned his attention to the Trexen. He was just egging Ethan on now. “You helped save Tara, and for that I’m grateful, but you were out of line with Orynn and those T’jaros. Central has rules and..”

  “I’m not their pet.” Merik sneered. “I’m a free-living Trexen, remember. I do favors for Central because the money’s good, the fights are usually bloody and it gets me close to choice pieces of ass.”

  “Unbelievable.” Ethan grumbled, pushing Hank aside, and slammed his hand against Merik’s chest, causing the Trexen to take another step back. “You don’t do favors for Central, you owe Central that so-called freedom you boast about so much. You think I don’t know your case file forwards and backwards? Just who the fuck do you think ran the mission that freed your ass and one hundred and thirty-two other Trexens? Do you have any idea how many good agents died on that mission? Sure you were just a damned kid, but now that I see the ungrateful piece of shit you’ve become, I wish Jhonis and I had let you rot in that concentration camp!”

  Ethan’s last words echoed across the sudden stillness of the hangar. Hank looked between Ethan and Merik, not sure of what to say. Ethan had never spoken to him about that mission, or told him that he knew Merik from so long ago. As far as Hank had known, Merik first met everyone on their crew five years back during the Retalia Blockade. He knew Ethan had always had a strange relationship with Merik that hinged between playful banter and outright annoyance, but this was unexpected. The smirk had been wiped completely off Merik’s face, so Hank guessed it was a surprise for the Trexen as well.

  Ethan’s anger started to subside as he let the silence in the hangar quiet his mind. Merik wasn’t saying anything, but at least that damn arrogant smile was gone. Ethan took in a deep breath, filling his cooling system and further calming the storm that had been raging in him. He shook his head and sighed as Merik continued to be unresponsive. “Just stay away from her.” Ethan turned away and headed for the exit. “Stay away from all of us.”

  Hank watched Ethan go. In the end, there had been no anger in the Mecha’s voice. In the end, there had been only disappointment. It brought to the forefront just how old Ethan was and how much more life he had experienced than the rest of them. It was easy to forget that sometimes. Ethan looked, and often acted, no older than Hank’s own twenty-eight years. He looked back over to Merik, who was now staring at the pile of dead T’jaros with his fists clenched at his sides.

  “Go on, Hank.” Merik didn’t feel like listening to the pep talk he could hear brewing in Hank’s head. More than anything, he just wanted to be alone. “I’ll clean this mess up.”

  Hank closed his mouth around the sentence he was about to begin. He hated leaving shit like this. Ethan was right; Merik was a loose cannon. Merik was also a good ally to have around who had saved their butts on several occasions. He figured Merik could pluck that thought out of his head, so perhaps things were better left unsaid. “Thanks.”

  Merik lifted a hand and waved slightly, but didn't turn to look at Hank. Hank walked through the same door they had used to enter the hangar and quickened his pace to catch up with Ethan. He didn’t have to walk far to find Ethan and the others stopped at a corridor junction ahead. Orynn wasn’t with them, but Hank figured she probably wanted to be alone too. The group turned to him as he approached.

  “Hey Cap.” Brom lifted his chin in greeting. “T and I got lost ‘till Ethan here showed up. This station is a rat maze. We figured we’d wait for you to catch up too, just in case.”

  “Thanks.” Hank scratched the back of his neck. “Did Orynn go on ahead?”

  Tara nodded. “She said she’d meet us on the ship. I think she wore herself out.” Tara studied Hank’s uneasiness for a moment. “Hank, about what happened back there...”

  “I know.” Hank lowered his hand from his neck. “Merik is cleaning up his mess and I’ll have a talk with Orynn.”

  “Merik was manipulating her. We could all see it.” Brom shuffled slightly. “That same kind of method was used by the Tarsen to get them to do to my people what happened to those T’jaros. They may not of had Trexen, but those Tarsen engineered Orynn’s people to have that... that darker side. That bastard took advantage of that.”

  “She showed him.” Tara looked betw
een the confused looks on the faces of Ethan and Hank. “On the way here, she shared part of the memories of her people that are passed down generation to generation.”

  “She didn’t mean to. It was my fault, but what I saw I’ll never be able to get outta my mind. It was so real, Cap.” Brom’s eyes lowered and he wrung his hands. “Was like I was there. Was like I was her ancestor there on that bloody and burned battlefield. I could feel her insides fighting with each other about what she was doing to my people. And their children, Hank... they were murdering their children if they refused.”

  “We aren’t saying that what she did is excusable.” Tara patted Brom’s shoulder as his eyes started to tear up. “I don’t think she believes it is either. Her eyes looked so lost, Hank. We’re just saying to maybe take it easy on her.” Tara reached out and touched Hank’s arm. “Please.”

  “You know I was more against her coming aboard than anyone, Cap, but T’s right.” Brom nodded in agreement. “She’s been trying to help us, and maybe what she did back there wasn’t right, but she saved Tara’s life.”

  Hank nodded. If Tara and Brom were going to stand behind her, then how could he not? Tara had always been better than him at judging someone’s character. He smiled at them. “Alright. Maybe this doesn’t have to make it in my report to Jehdra. We’ll deal with it as a matter to take care of between ourselves, as friends.”

  “I think she’d really appreciate that idea.” Tara smiled back. “That we consider her a friend, I mean. Despite what we’ve seen about her relationships with her contacts, I don’t think she has any actual friends.”

  Hank looked down at Tara, the feelings of almost losing her still raw. He was tempted to reach out and hold her hand, but it was still a boundary he wasn’t prepared to cross. The group fell into silence as they followed Ethan through the maze of passageways. Instead of leading them back to the exit near the jewelry vendor, Ethan used his internal map to take a shortcut to the hangar where the Zera was docked. As they approached the ship, they found the loading ramp down and several dock attendants were carrying the crates of Kilari ale up it.