Dark Space Universe (Books 1-3): The Third Dark Space Trilogy (Dark Space Trilogies)

by Jasper T. Scott

  “But the Faros don’t know where Etheria is.”

  “No, not yet, but the lost fleet might change that. If Abaddon stumbles on it before we do, he’s going to use it to conquer Etheria. The war will be over before you can blink, and the Faros will lead everyone in the Etherian Empire into slavery—including the entire human race.”

  Addy looked skeptical. “New Earth is mobile. They’ll just pick up and run.”

  “And just look at how that worked out for Astralis. You can’t run forever.”

  “All right, let’s say all of that happens. You think Etherus is just going to stand by and let his kingdom crumble? If he’s the almighty creator of the universe, then you’re worrying for nothing. He’ll just wave his hands and the Faros will disappear.”

  Lucien stared at her. “And what if he’s not really God?”

  “Well...”

  Addy didn’t have a ready answer for that. She wasn’t exactly a big believer, after all.

  Lucien nodded slowly. “If Etherus isn’t who he says he is, then this war that you’re trying to convince me not to start is the only thing standing between our entire species and eternal damnation.”

  Addy blew out a breath. “So it’s our job to find this fleet and use it against Abaddon to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “Maybe. First we need to make sure the secret of Etheria’s location stays safe. Then we can figure out how to use the fleet to get our people back, and after that, maybe we can start freeing other species, too.”

  Addy began shaking her head. “I love your idealism, Lucien, I really do, but I also love you, and I’m pretty sure this war is going to get you killed.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But if I do die, at least my life will have meant something.”

  “It already means something! To me. I need you.” Addy’s eyes were pleading as they searched his.

  “I need you, too, Addy...”

  “No, you don’t need me. You need soldiers. And I’m not one.”

  Addy stood up and left the booth. Even bald as an egg she still looked amazing. Lucien felt something physically tugging him to follow her as she left, but instead of doing that, he just sat there and watched her go.

  His heart hurt. They were at an impasse. She wanted the two of them to go off exploring the universe with nothing to weigh them down, while he was itching for a larger meaning to life. This war with Abaddon was it: a real crusade, a holy war like the universe had never seen before.

  Wars were rarely justified, their causes diluted by the blood of the fallen until they lost all reason, but every now and then there came a war that was different, a war that called out to the hearts of everyone who ever heard of it—a war to end all wars.

  This was one of those wars. Lucien knew he couldn’t walk away. He’d been born for this. The light-bringer. Somehow, even his name foretold his purpose. He was supposed to bring light to a dark universe, to help restore peace and justice for everyone, everywhere.

  Maybe it was arrogant to think that was possible, or that he could somehow be instrumental in such a timeless struggle, but someone had to be, so why not him?

  “We are ready to leave.”

  That voice stirred Lucien from his thoughts. He looked up and found Katawa standing in the entrance of the mess hall. Katawa’s giant black eyes found him, and blinked. “Did you eat?” the little gray alien asked.

  Brak grunted and pushed out his chair from the table at the other end of the mess hall, his plate was empty but for a few bloody scraps of gristle. “Too much!” he declared, and pounded his belly with a fist, knocking loose a thunderous belch.

  Lucien smiled ruefully.

  “Good. You will need your strength for the underworld. We must go. The Mokari are waiting.”

  Chapter 26

  Astralis

  Tyra sat in the armchair in the living room beside the picture window, wearing a sweater to help keep out the cold. She listened to the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth while she scanned the news headlines on her ARCs. Taking an absent-minded sip from her cup of caf, she promptly grimaced. The caf was cold—of course it was, Lucien must have brewed it hours ago when he got up to take Atara to her new school. Typical Tyra, so distracted that you don’t even remember to heat up your morning caf.

  She’d woken up at eleven o’clock, but she’d still only gotten five hours of sleep. She’d been in her office until early morning coming up with new cloning bills in case the judicial department approved Ellis’s initial proposal.

  Now she was scanning the headlines to see if the judicial department had delivered their verdict. Only a day had passed since Ellis had submitted the proposal, but the judicial department sometimes delivered verdicts within hours, so it wouldn’t be strange to have one by now. Astralis’s government was a hyper-efficient machine.

  “Tyra? You mind un-plugging for a second? We need to talk about something.” It was Lucien.

  Tyra closed the least interesting of the two news feeds she had open, freeing up half her field of view. She spared a glance at Lucien. He sat beside her on the couch warming his hands around a fresh cup of caf. Tyra swallowed a sigh, instantly resenting him for the fact that he had time to make a fresh pot, while she didn’t even seem to have the time to re-heat an old one.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, only half-turning to him so he wouldn’t see the news feed glowing in her other eye. She took another sip of her cold caf and pretended to stare into the flames dancing in the fireplace.

  “It’s about Atara. Last night, some time after I put the girls to bed, Theola woke up screaming. I went to check on them and...”

  There it is! Tyra thought as she read the headline.

  Judicial Dept. Approves Use of

  Simultaneous Copies for Safe Exploration

  Tyra scanned the story. It mostly detailed things she already knew, a summary of Ellis’s proposal, and an explanation of how they would use clones to explore safely.

  Then she got to the part of the Judicial Department’s verdict. They approved the proposal, pending further legislation to place new limitations on the use of simultaneous copies. But the Judicial Department had placed a limitation of their own: the clones would be forced to integrate with their copies on Astralis each time they returned, and no more than two simultaneous copies of any given person would be allowed.

  Tyra frowned, considering the implications of that. It meant more disruption to the lives of the people who agreed to send out clones. In a way that was better. It meant the clones wouldn’t be leaving their families for good, since each time they returned they’d integrate their memories, and it would seem to them as if they’d somehow never left. They’d have all the memories of the time they’d spent with their partners and children, as well as all of the memories of the time they’d spent away, exploring.

  Tyra nodded along with that. Assuming clones were never separated from each other for more than a few months at a time, it wouldn’t be too shocking or disruptive for anyone, but it also meant that anyone who consented to send out a clone of his or herself would have to think twice about it, because doing so actually would affect their lives. Besides all of the new memories they’d have to cope with, they’d be accountable to their families for their actions while they were away.

  Tyra became aware of eyes boring into the side of her skull. She hurriedly closed the news feed and turned to Lucien with a sheepishly-innocent smile.

  “You didn’t hear a thing I said, did you?” Lucien accused.

  “Hmmm?” She took another sip of her caf and shook her head. “Of course I did. The girls woke up. Theola was screaming. Something about Atara... I missed that part.”

  Lucien scowled and shook his head. “You know what, never mind.”

  “Hey—” Tyra reached for his hand, but he moved it from the armrest of the couch to his lap. “I’m sorry.”

  Lucien’s lips were twisted in a smile, but his eyes were cold. “Look, forget about it. You’ve got more important thi
ngs to worry about.”

  “That’s not fair. Nothing’s more important to me than our family.”

  “Sure, in theory, but in reality...” He shook his head and got up from the couch.

  Tyra felt guilt twisting her stomach in knots. “I’m sorry, okay? I was reading an important article about—”

  Lucien held up a hand to stop her. “Save it. I’ve got a meeting to attend. Maybe we’ll have time to talk about it tonight. That is—if you make it home tonight.”

  The knot got tighter, and Tyra nodded slowly, watching as Lucien turned to leave. Then something clicked and her brow furrowed with sudden interest. “What meeting? You’re supposed to be on vacation until Fallside is repaired.”

  “Admiral Stavos called a meeting this morning for all of the ex-Paragons.”

  Tyra’s eyes widened suddenly. She knew what that would be about. “You can’t go,” she blurted.

  Lucien stopped and sent her an incredulous look. “What do you mean I can’t go? I’m an ex-Paragon. I don’t actually have a choice.”

  “Well...” Tyra faltered for words. “I meant you can’t allow them to send out your clone on one of the galleons.”

  Lucien shot her a baffled look. “What clone? And since when are we sending out galleons?”

  “Ellis proposed it all yesterday, and the judiciary just gave approved it.”

  Lucien came and sat back down. “Maybe you’d better explain.”

  So she did.

  Lucien sat blinking in shock. “That’s...”

  “Crazy?” Tyra suggested.

  “I was going to say brilliant. Finally we can get back to doing what we came out here to do!”

  Tyra arched her eyebrows at him. “As opposed to... what? Playing house on a giant spaceship?”

  Lucien frowned. “You don’t get to play that card with me. I’m the one who’s there every day, wiping noses and changing diapers.”

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. Look you need to think about this, that’s all. If you agree to go, you’re going to be away from me and the girls for months at a time.”

  “Technically, I’ll still be right here,” Lucien said.

  “But your clone will be out there, and as soon as he comes back, he’ll be forced to integrate his memories with yours.”

  “Sounds like having your sweet tart and eating it, too. What’s the problem with that?”

  Tyra started to say something, but stopped herself and sighed. “Nothing.” She looked away, out the picture window, out over a forest of evergreens caked with snow. Beyond that she spied a frozen lake crowded with stay-at-home parents and their children, all skating on the ice. It was a glimpse of the life she was missing, the one where she always seemed to be the spectator and never the participant. If anyone needed a clone so that she could be in two places at once, it was her. How many others felt that way? No wonder the judiciary had ruled that clones had to integrate once they reached Astralis. If they didn’t, it was just a short leap from there to living multiple lives at once. Things would get out of hand really fast.

  “What are you worried about?” Lucien prompted.

  Tyra turned back to him, her constant guilt and her secret fears made her feel suddenly intensely vulnerable. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but she felt naked, like every whisper of a thought was written on her face.

  She lived with the waking dread that one day she’d come home late and find that Lucien wasn’t there. She’d never voiced it to him. Weakness was a throat exposed, the jugular pulsing invitingly, and men were all hunters at heart. But if she didn’t share her fears, she couldn’t justify telling him to turn down the chance to get back out there and explore the universe.

  Tyra took a deep, shuddery breath. “I’m worried about you. What if you fall out of love with me and in to love with someone else? What if you start to prefer your life out there, in the stars, with no responsibilities and no commitments? What if you get lonely and some woman seduces you?”

  Lucien’s brow was skeptically raised, but the grave look in his eyes told her the truth: he’d just admitted the possibility to himself, and he was busy thinking about it, weighing the risk that he might actually succumb to such temptations—an affair that wasn’t an affair, his mind in two bodies, having your sweet tart and eating it, too, what happens in space stays in space....

  Tyra swallowed a scream and did her best to look unconcerned.

  “We’re married,” Lucien said finally. “We have two kids. They need their mother, not some other woman. I don’t want to make our lives any more complicated than they already are.”

  “They need their mother. What do you need, Lucien?”

  “I need you, too. But you’re never here.”

  “I’m going to work on that. I promise. Things are going to be different.”

  “Good. Then maybe you won’t need to worry about me having an affair, because you’ll be confident in what we have.”

  Lucien’s words stabbed straight through to her heart. “So you’re saying I have a reason to be worried.”

  “No, I’m saying your worries are a direct result of your guilt and the fact that you’re giving me more reason and opportunity than most men need. What you forget is that I’m not most men.”

  “Maybe not, but you’re still human.”

  He sighed. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. We don’t even know why Stavos called the Paragons together.”

  Tyra snorted. “Yes we do. It doesn’t take an astrophysicist to figure that out.”

  Lucien’s eyes narrowed. Poor choice of words. One of his lesser issues with her was how she was always patronizing him with her education. She’d been an astrophysicist before she’d decided to run for political office, and while he wasn’t un-educated, his education as a Paragon was only really applicable to expeditionary work, to exploring the stars and meeting new alien races, which he’d been unable to do for almost a decade.

  Now he was about to get a second chance, and here she was telling him not to take it because she was scared that whatever threads were still holding them together wouldn’t be strong enough if he had some freedom.

  She was being selfish and she knew it. “Look, just... consider the consequences, okay?”

  Lucien nodded. “I will.” He grabbed her hand and gave it a quick squeeze before getting up from the couch and leaving the room once more.

  Almost as an afterthought, Tyra thought to ask, “Where’s Theola?”

  Lucien turned back to her from the front door, while he reached into the coat closet and withdrew his gloves and jacket. “She’s at daycare. I signed her up for one after I got the notice about the meeting. I figured you wouldn’t be able to watch her, so...”

  Tyra nodded absently. “Okay. See you later,” she said, as he finished putting on his coat and gloves.

  “See you,” he replied.

  He opened the door and a blast of cold air gushed into the room, making Tyra shiver. He shut the door behind him, and Tyra sat staring at it for a long moment, her guts twisting with dread.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered.

  Chapter 27

  Mokar

  The Specter flew low over mottled blue and red forests of strange, cauliflower-shaped trees and vast open plains dry brown grass.

  Both of Mokar’s suns were high in the sky, one as red as a Mokari’s eyes, the other campfire-orange. The sky was pinkish, almost white, while the clouds were salmon-colored.

  Mokar was as unique as any world or facet of New Earth that Lucien had ever been to, and it was a far cry from the blue skies, white clouds, and typically-green trees of Astralis.

  Along the horizon a cloud of black specks led the way. Mokari. They were taking the Specter to their underworld.

  “How is it possible that one sun sets and the other doesn’t?” Addy asked, peering up through the top of the Specter’s canopy.

  Katawa answered, “We landed at the North Pole. The planet’s tilt and rotation are such that at this time o
f year the most distant sun only sets three times a year, while the other one rises and sets a hundred times as often.”

  “So twilight is going to fall again soon?”

  “In five of your standard hours,” Katawa said.

  “And you know all of this because...” Garek trailed off. “Wait, don’t tell me. The ship’s databanks, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “Is it much farther to the underworld?” Addy asked.

  “I do not know.”

  After another few minutes of standing and watching their progress from the Specter’s bridge, Lucien grew tired and took a seat in the co-pilot’s chair.

  Katawa glanced sharply at him as he did so, and Lucien held up his hands. “I won’t touch anything. Promise.”

  Katawa looked away. “It is not that. You sat on my lunch.”

  Lucien felt around underneath his robes until his hand encountered something slimy and squishy. Lucien withdrew his hand in horror to find it coated with thick white slime. “Yuck!” He jumped up from the co-pilot’s chair and saw a plate filled with an assortment of colorful slug-like creatures, all flattened into a sticky paste.

  Lucien’s nose wrinkled, and he used his clean hand to brush off the back of his robes. That hand came away dripping with slime, too.

  “How is it possible that everyone this side of the Red Line eats such disgusting food?” Lucien asked, staring at his hands in dismay.

  Addy laughed.

  “It is not disgusting,” Katawa replied. “Try one. They are delicious.”

  “I’m going to go wash up,” Lucien said. He squeezed by Katawa’s chair and hurried to the amidships washroom.

  When he returned, he found Katawa devouring the remains of the slugs and licking his bony gray fingers. Addy sat beside him in the co-pilot’s chair, trying not to notice, and both Brak and Garek were gone, probably back in their quarters.

  There were only two seats on the bridge, so Lucien was forced to stand behind Addy’s chair.