“I don’t believe you.”
“Silas was trying to give Eden back to the world, Exton. He saw Paradise as a way to return to the good times, but he was wrong.” St. Cloud stiffened in his chair, placing his now-empty mug down on the table with impeccable calm. “He was wrong. There is no going back. We can only press on, going forward.”
“My father did not want to destroy the world, especially not in order to save it,” Exton insisted.
“He had no qualms about it, Exton. Remember Noah?”
It took a moment for Exton to recall the story from the Bible about Noah, a man who was righteous in the eyes of God. He was told to build an ark and collect the animals of the world, two by two, and gather them inside while the world was washed away by rain and floodwaters.
“Silas saw Paradise as a present-day ark. He wasn’t destroying the world in his mind. He was saving the Ecclesia while the world would be purified by fire.”
Exton forced himself to breathe in and out as evenly as possible.
“He had a lot of people in the Ecclesia who supported him, Exton, but he was smart enough to know that there would be plenty of people—in fact, pretty much everyone—who would be against him. I even believed him for a long time, until I saw the truth. I firmly believe that’s how he convinced so many people to help. Many did come to join the Ecclesia when we had to contract out work to new places.”
Somehow, St. Cloud saying that his father’s goodness remained, despite all the alleged badness, stung worse than the accusations altogether. Exton felt a moment of resignation as he realized he wouldn’t be able to fight St. Cloud over every bit of information he gave.
“So he cloaked his words in secrecy, and—”
“And secrets, while necessary, can destroy you,” Exton murmured, remembering another one of St. Cloud’s favorite sayings.
St. Cloud nodded approvingly.
Disgust sparked inside of him. “I still think you’re lying,” Exton said.
“What if I’m not?” St. Cloud asked. His voice grew quiet and contemplative again, forcing Exton to change directions.
“If you’re not,” Exton said slowly, “then you’ve been misinformed.”
“What if you’re the one who’s been misinformed?” St. Cloud’s expression was almost amused now.
“It’s not like you can prove it,” Exton replied.
“I can’t, while I’m in here. If you want proof I’m telling the truth, all you have to do is locate the Boötes system.”
“Boötes?” Exton frowned. “That’s a constellation, not a star. It doesn’t have a system.”
“Not the stars, Exton. That’s its name. Boötes is the name of an intranet that the underground agents of the government use to communicate. The URS has known for the last several years, after you began intercepting our fights and our shipments to various places, that you and your crew were able to monitor our comm systems. That’s why we had the NETech designed for our fighters and our military comms. Before that, there was another system in place that was used to keep out foreign interceptors. It’s a shadow web.”
“We’ve already had access to several of the State’s military communications.”
“This is more of an archive; it was used as a place for our space program, specifically.”
Exton frowned. “What do you mean by ‘our?’”
St. Cloud rolled his eyes. “The State’s. I would’ve thought that was obvious.”
Exton considered the matter carefully. He’d forgotten that the URS would have had a record of the plans for the Paradise. He knew from Tyler that the URS had planned to expand their weapons to make them space-capable, as they had done with the MENACE fighters. But other than that, there had been no news on what the State was planning as far as their space program. There were no additional projects in the hacked files they did have regarding that. Exton had heard the rumors that it was shut down after he and his friends had stolen the Perdition from them. He was more than willing to believe them, too.
Maybe too willing, he admitted to himself. St. Cloud’s shadow web could possibly provide some insights into what exactly had happened.
“What’s on there that would prove you were right about my father, especially if he was as secretive and deceptive as you say?” he finally asked. If—if—St. Cloud was telling the truth, there would have to be something very specific, very incriminating, to serve as his proof.
“The plans for Paradise. The ones he originally submitted for the military development division in the URS government,” St. Cloud replied.
Tyler would probably be able to handle scouting for that, Exton decided. “Fine. I’ll order an investigation. But you will remain here until I have my answers.”
“I have chosen to abide by your wishes—for now.” St. Cloud gave him a small, shrewd smile. “You can always come and talk with me about other things if you get bored.”
The thought of visiting St. Cloud of his own accord held no appeal. Exton shook his head.
Before he left, there was one other thing that made him pause. “Boötes was my father’s nickname,” Exton said softly. “Why is it named after him?”
“You can thank Osgood for that,” St. Cloud said. His amber eyes, so similar to Aerie’s, darkened with an ominous shadow. “I wasn’t the only one Silas managed to fool.”
“They were friends.” His words came out as more of a statement than a question. “I remember he had a lot of meetings with him. I’d forgotten about that.”
“Yes. Osgood named it after him to remind himself not to trust anyone, ever again,” St. Cloud said. “They used to be good friends, the two of them. It fell apart after Osgood became dictator. While I never knew the exact reason why, my guess is that politics drove them apart. Both of them were unhappy with the last dictator, but I suspect Silas felt bitter once Osgood took up the title.”
Exton only nodded. He’d known a lot of defectors from the URS who also had trouble keeping friends because of political disagreements.
St. Cloud cleared his throat. “If you look for the Boötes system, their shadow web, you’ll find the nation’s most carefully guarded secrets. It should prove that Silas’ designs for the Paradise were ultimately different from the ones the URS ordered. If you’re half the engineer he was, you’ll see the reasons why they were changed.”
At his words, Exton felt a rush of pure hatred rekindled inside of him.
Even if it was true, that alone doesn’t mean my father deserved to die. Even if I have been misinformed, my father is still dead. Even if St. Cloud killed Papa to stop him from doing bad things, he took away all the good things he could’ve done, too.
His father had been silenced, and he wasn’t able to defend himself. Exton owed his memory more than a quick, cursory condemnation, provided by the very man that had robbed his father of his life.
“You’re not telling me the truth,” Exton insisted as he headed for the door. He’d had enough of this conversation. He had known it would not be an easy one, and he knew it was time to leave.
“It is the truth, Exton, whether you believe it or not.”
St. Cloud’s last words hung in the air before Exton slammed and locked the door behind him.
EXTON BLINKED AND FOUND himself still glaring out the window of the Perdition, seeing past the world before him.
He thought about the argument he’d had with Aerie that morning, and for the first time since that conversation with St. Cloud, he felt a small quiver of doubt.
What if St. Cloud was telling the truth?
The truth mattered—to him, and to others. It was nothing for him to play along with the URS’s narrative that he was the ghost of Captain Chainsword, his father’s remnant. It was the only way his father was capable of having revenge on the world, after all, and Exton had no trouble assuming the responsibilities of that calling. Besides, what did it matter to establish a fitting role for himself in a world where the truth was what the State said it was, and nothing else?
&nbs
p; Here, in his own community, and on the Perdition, he knew he wasn’t really a ghost working with MENACE.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He knew what he wasn’t. What was he? Who was he, really?
He’d always looked up to his father, even if they had, only naturally, disagreed on some points. His papa was a loving husband, a diligent worker, and a brilliant engineer. His mother idolized him, wholeheartedly championing his idealism, seeped in religious conviction and strong against the tides of reality’s derision.
The thought that his father had become radicalized by his ideals, ones his mother even denied, was startling; the idea that he died because he was willing to do anything to obtain his own paradise was unfathomable.
Or at least, nearly unfathomable.
The idea that his father would hijack a state science and military endeavor, only to send it into space and use it as a weapon against his home nation, a nation that was threatening to take even more away from him than it already had ... Never in a million years would he have thought his father capable of doing that.
Exton also knew he’d never guessed he was capable of that, either. Yet, there he was, the captain of the starship he’d stolen from the State, the one he could have used to destroy his enemies, only stopped by what he would call a miracle.
Exton rubbed his temples, distressed.
Who am I, really?
Exton knew the answer to that question, and he didn’t like it.
As he quietly resumed his steps, Exton admitted to himself that he was suddenly afraid. If what St. Cloud said was true, Exton was too much like his own father for comfort—and he was afraid of what Aerie would think of him if she knew the truth.
He barely noticed that his stride had lost its confidence as he turned onto the Command Bridge.
♦3♦
“Here’s the report you asked for, ma’am.”
Aerie smiled and wiped the dirt off her face with her arm as she looked up at the towering figure behind her. “Thank you, Bruce.”
“The orchids look much better already.”
“Yes, it was a good call,” Aerie agreed. She ran her fingers through the soft leaves. “They’ll have a little more room now, before we prune them again.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Aerie grinned up at the large man. “There’s no need to call me ma’am. Aerie is fine.”
Bruce blushed through his reddish beard as he shyly looked down at his feet. “But you’re the captain’s wife now, ma’am. ‘Tis only proper.”
“I’m still a member of the community, same as you, even if I am just substituting in the Biovid for Emery.”
“Director Caldwell,” Bruce corrected softly.
Aerie laughed. “I guess that is her correct title here. I guess I thought everyone was a lot more informal.”
“Not everyone is like that. Director Ward insisted on using titles down in Petra.” He shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to it from her.”
“I wonder why people use titles so much?” Aerie wondered aloud, as she busied herself with cleaning up some of the mess she’d made in transferring the plants while thinking about the differences between the URS and the Perdition. Growing up in the URS, things had always been more formal. Students were told to address each other as “Comrade,” and instructors were “Master,” and even her father preferred “General.” Family unit members were also discouraged from using names, unless it was from the unit leaders to their subordinates. Exceptions were only made for good friends or colleagues, but there never seemed to be many exceptions.
“Sometimes people put walls—and titles—up to keep people away. Others do it to see who will knock them down.”
She paused for a moment in her workmanship. She had heard enough stories from others around the city to know that the rural areas of the nation were less centralized around the federal government.
“Interesting idea,” Aerie finally said. Before she came aboard the Perdition, Aerie assumed that things outside of New Hope were not as strict.
It is not a good practice to make assumptions of these things, I guess.
“Well, call me what you’d like,” Aerie finally replied a moment later. She stood up next to him. “But I still prefer Aerie.”
Bruce blushed again, red enough that his face was only a shade lighter than the flannel jacket he wore over his uniform. “Aerie it is, then.”
“Good. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to call you ‘Director’ or whatever your title is, myself. I’ve forgotten it, actually,” Aerie admitted.
Bruce laughed hard enough to send his whole body shaking. “It’s ‘Doctor,’ although there are some I know who like to call me ‘Treebeard.’”
“I think I’ll stick to Bruce, if that’s okay with you,” she replied, unsure of the reference that caused him such great amusement.
Aerie met Bruce when she first agreed to step in for Emery as one of the Biovid’s caretakers. Bruce was the lead caretaker, with several years of experience as an arborist. His taciturn manner had prevented her from asking too many questions, but once he began to talk, his shyness slowly faded into a friendly countenance.
She watched as he turned his attention toward the flowers she had spent the last hour repotting. Aerie pressed down on the soil gently, giving it a final pat down. “What do you think?” she asked. “Are they ready to go?”
Bruce nodded. “Much better. Orchids need special attention to flourish. I’ll move them into the pollination chambers. The new pots will help, even if there’s not a lot of space in the chambers.”
Aerie thought of the small rooms below the Biovid. Several of them were used for different purposes, including pollination. Emery and Exton had both recently warned her not to investigate them on her own. When she asked why, Exton had been firm, telling her there were lots of things besides plants and tools below the Biovid, and many of them were dangerous.
Aerie brightened. “Can you show me?” she asked. It was one thing to go on her own, she thought, and another to have a guide. “I’d love to see it.”
Bruce nodded, picking up the newly planted orchids. “Sure. We can’t be long; I’ve got to go and check the water supply and take care of some water stripping still.”
“I guess I’ll need those reports from you soon enough, too, so you’d better get them done.”
Bruce nodded. They had arrived on a small landing in the middle of several rows of plants when he passed Aerie the flower pot.
“Here,” he said. “Step back. The pollination room is here, underneath the Biovid. It’s a steep staircase down, so watch your step.”
“Got it.”
Aerie felt her fingertips tighten against the smoothness of the flowerpot she held as Bruce pulled open the door. “I was wondering if these were storage rooms,” she said. “I remember how, during the harvest celebration, there were rooms where you had to climb to get to them.”
“This is similar to that,” Bruce said. “The ship was all designed by one man, and he was very good at maximizing the space available.”
Aerie nodded, briefly forgetting Bruce couldn’t see her past the orchid pots she carried as she thought about Exton’s father.
Silas Shepherd seemed to be more of a myth than a man to her. Aerie had known some of the specifics of his story from her school days in the URS, even though she knew him as Captain Chainsword. It was said he’d been betrayed by those who loved him best, and he had been insistent on causing trouble for the URS by working with MENACE, an old enemy from several decades ago.
While she knew some of the story had been embellished and propagated between Exton and the General, and other high-ranking members of the State, she didn’t know too much about the actual man himself. Hearing Bruce speak of his skill seemed to give more credence to his memory.
Or maybe just his legend, Aerie thought.
“Keep your eyes open on the way down,” Bruce warned, as he took one of the pots from her.
Aerie nearly sputtered an apology at finding
herself off in one of her musings, but Bruce didn’t seem to notice.
She stepped carefully down each step, her boots making a soft clank on the hard metal. Aerie had to remind herself to watch her steps, as she found herself in the middle of a small room. “Wow,” she uttered.
The room was small, but it seemed to be filled with wonders. The walls were covered with shelves, and the shelves were filled with delicate plants. Small, bright lights were placed on all surfaces, and there was a smell in the air that reminded Aerie of the times she spent with her mother as she tended their unit’s small garden. There was much more humidity in the air, enough to make her feel like she was walking into a steam room. Her uniform seemed to cling to her as she spun around, gaping at the room in amazement.
“This is wonderful,” Aerie said. “It’s almost like a rainforest is growing around the room in here.”
“That’s what the Biovid is for, but in the smaller room I think it creates more of that effect,” Bruce said, as he took the plants from her and set them down on a cluttered shelf.
“It is small,” Aerie agreed. “You weren’t kidding about that.”
“I don’t kid about my plants much,” Bruce said, his voice muffled as he ducked down and pulled out a few bottles.
“I thought maybe you were mistaken since you’re so tall,” Aerie explained apologetically. She shuffled a step back from Bruce, but there was hardly any more room for her to maneuver.
Bruce chuckled. “I guess I can understand that. The Perdition is a grand ship, but it does seem much smaller on the inside. Part of that is because there’s so much to fit, and then part of it’s like that because it was built to last.”
Aerie watched as Bruce sprayed down the orchids with water and pressed some fertilizer feeds down into the soil. “How long do you think it will last?”
Exton had told her before about the stories of his father and how he’d set out to take the Perdition back. But she was surprised to find that it was in such good condition, especially after the URS—and her father—had ordered attacks against it in the past.
The Price of Paradise Page 3
