The Fifth Column Boxed Set

by J. N. Chaney

  “Just learning from my captain’s mistakes,” she shot back sweetly.

  “Glad you two are having such a good time, but can we get back to the escape now?” Mack’s voice sounded testy in my ear.

  “I have to agree with Miss Woods, Captain. This type of attitude does not fit the current situation,” Vega chimed in.

  “Alright, alright. Hold your horses. Farah, you want me to go first?”

  “I’ll go.”

  “Fine, but don’t do the twirly bit at the end. If you miss… well, you know.”

  She saluted me in acknowledgement before making the jump. Just as gracefully, she made it to the next beam and secured herself. I followed suit, imitating the way she’d done it. It was much better than my first attempt, but it still felt awkward.

  “Okay,” she said suddenly, drawing out the word. “That looks less than fun.”

  I glanced over and saw her staring at the floor, which was now “above” us. “Don’t look… up. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  Farah reached down and gripped the edge of the beam, staring straight ahead. I heard the little puff of breath as she exhaled and pushed off, arms outstretched to grab the next. She landed without issue and I joined her a few seconds later.

  By the fourth beam, we both had a rhythm and I felt pretty good about our chances. I made it to the final beam first and turned to watch my partner. She crouched down and leapt the same way she’d been doing it, but an explosion from the facility rocked the chamber and she stumbled. The awkward jump sent her careening at a downward angle. She was going to miss.

  She wasn’t close enough for me to grab her suit, so I did the only thing I could think of in the moment. I tackled her, midair and hoped it was enough to drive us to the hole in the wall. Instead, the move slammed us into the wall and threatened to send us spiraling out of control. With a grunt of effort, I scrabbled at the rock until I found something to get my hand around, a large boulder.

  “Guys, are you alright?” Mack sounded nervous.

  “That was a little close for comfort,” I said, sucking in a breath.

  “Tell me about it,” Farah replied. “Let’s never do that again.”

  When we were outside on the walkway again, I punched her shoulder.

  “Ouch, what was that for?”

  Inside my helmet, I grinned. “I told you not to do the twirly bit.”

  2

  Back on the Second Genesis I scowled into my oatmeal.

  “Wow, that bad?”

  I looked up to see Farah in the doorway, bemused and holding three glasses. “That op went right down the toilet. What’s with the glasses?”

  She shrugged and wandered over to set them down in front of me. “We came close to dying and came out of it okay. Again. I figured that’s a victory. Swapped our next in line for something stronger.”

  I eyed her suspiciously as she went to the cabinet with our alcohol. “We were supposed to have wine next. What is it now?”

  Farah marched back, a bottle filled with clear liquid in her hands, and set it down with a clunk. “Tequila.” She took the seat across from me and poured the three shot glasses to the brim.

  “Isn’t that the drink everyone had terrible stories about when we first got done with training?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Maybe. Only one way to find out. If Mack would hurry up.”

  “I’m here, jeez.” The hacker in question ambled in, covered head to toe with black synth leather. She crowded in beside me and picked up one of the glasses.

  Deciding to hell with it, I raised the tiny glass and clinked it with theirs. It burned a little going down, but in a way that warmed my insides and took the edge off my nerves.

  Mack grinned and poured another round.

  “For the Empire’s honor!” I announced before downing the drink and slamming the empty glass down on the table.

  Farah almost spit hers out and Mack started choking. Laughing, I thumped her on the back until she waved a hand at me. “Oh gods, that burns like hell. I can’t believe you just said that.”

  The saying was mostly a joke. People our age had grown up hearing it because our parents were taught that all actions reflected directly on the Empire. When it went out of style, kids used it for everyday things. “Ate my vegetables, for the Empire’s honor!” was a personal favorite, but I only ever said it in my head to avoid punishment.

  Mack leaned back and slung an arm over the back of her chair. “That brings back memories.”

  That made Farah laugh. The movement jostled the bottle she’d been tipping over for refills and some sloshed onto the table. “Whoops.”

  Laughing, I swallowed down another. This one didn’t burn as much, and I was starting to feel pleasantly loose. Getting drunk hadn’t been the plan for tonight but for the moment things seemed a little less bleak and that was fine with me.

  Over the next hour the three of us killed the bottle, something that seemed to perplex Vega. “Captain, I feel compelled to warn you that the amount of alcohol you have consumed will impair any decision making.”

  “I know, V. You keep saying that.”

  “And yet you are still drinking. All available data suggests that each of you will suffer from headaches, nausea, and other uncomfortable side effects in the morning.”

  “That’s called a hangover,” Mack chirped helpfully.

  “Ah, right. I’ve had one of those before,” said Farah, nodding enthusiastically.

  I had too, once, but the memory was hazy and I slapped a hand at empty air. “Psh. Worth it.”

  “Very well,” replied Vega, sounding a little like put out. “I shall remind you of that sentiment when you wake up.”

  “Aww, come on Vega.” Farah was grinning up at the ceiling. “Don’t be the fun police.”

  The AI paused for a beat before responding. “I can find no such reference to any law enforcement agency or department, Miss Shahi.”

  Her words sent the three of us into a fit of laughter,

  A sound like a gust of air blowing over a microphone came out of the speakers and Mack waved for us to be quiet. “Vega, did you just sigh?”

  “Of course not, Miss Wood. I am a computer and lack the necessary physical attributes to perform such a function. It was, however, a recording of a human sigh, which my research shows is a common response.”

  When we stopped laughing at that one, Farah held up the tequila bottle and gave it a mournful shake. “We’re empty.”

  Unsteadily, Mack got to her feet. “That’s my cue. My bed is calling.” She took one step, swayed, and had to grab the table for support. “Hmm. Harder than I thought.”

  Farah pushed up from her seat and wobbled over to her cousin. “Buddy system,” she declared, slurring the words before looking at me with a concerned expression. “Wait. You need a buddy too.”

  I stood slowly, fully intending to make it back to my quarters on my own.

  “Gods, it’s like the blind leading the blind.” We startled at the unexpected male voice. Jax stood in the open doorway, regarding us with a look of amusement.

  “The prodigal brother returns,” said Farah grandly. She swept an arm and bowed a little, almost tipping over in the process.

  Mack pulled her upright and hooked their elbows together. “Farah and I can make it. Our rooms are right next to each other. Jax, help our fearless leader.”

  They stumbled out the door, giggling as they went. When they were gone, Jax stepped into the room and picked up the empty bottle. He’d been on an errand for Angela Dunham, the leader of the Solaris Initiative.

  “Tequila,” he said, drawing the word out in a way that made me think he was fond of it. “That’ll do it.”

  “It did. But really, I’m fine. I can walk.” I bobbed my head and immediately regretted it because my vision went sideways. The floor rose up to meet me and I realized I had gone sideways. Before I could make contact, Jax was there lifting me up by the scruff of my shirt.

  “Easy there, star ra
cer.” He let go but stayed close. “Why don’t you let me make sure you don’t fall on your face.”

  “Yeah, all right.”

  We took a few awkward steps, but they were slow going. I only came to Jax’s shoulder and our disproportionate heights mixed with my missing balance hindered the whole process. The third time I stumbled he cursed under his breath and bent to pick me up.

  “Sorry, that was just too slow.”

  The next morning, as Vega predicted, was unpleasant. I sat in my quarters, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee and staring blearily into space. It felt like someone was drilling a hole in my head and every movement sent my stomach into somersaults.

  Farah strode in looking far too cheery. “Good morning,” she chimed.

  I moaned and shielded my eyes. “Why are you yelling? And why the hell aren’t you like me?”

  She set something down in front of me with a thud. “Because I drank this. I brought you one too. Recovery drink.”

  “Another one of your specialties?” I peeked under my hand to see a go cup filled with questionable green liquid.

  “Exactly. Give it five minutes. I swear you’ll feel better.”

  Anything was better than my current misery. I took an experimental sip and decided it wasn’t half bad.

  “Good,” said Farah approvingly. “Now, why don’t you get ready and meet us on the bridge in twenty? Vega finally cracked Calliope’s data stick.”

  My head snapped up, sending a fresh wave of pain through it that I ignored. “What? V, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You instructed me not to bother you unless it was a life or death situation,” she replied, sounding smug. “It is, of course, possible that I misinterpreted. You were quite hard to understand. Would you like me to replay the feed?”

  Now that she said it, I did remember mumbling something like that after Jax deposited me in my room. Cheeks burning, I waved the offer away. “Nope, not necessary.”

  “Very well.”

  Farah clapped her hands together and backed away, heading for the door. “See you in a few.”

  True to her word, the drink helped and I was back to normal before stepping out of the shower. I made it to the bridge in fifteen minutes to find everyone waiting for me. I avoided eye contact with Jax as I crossed the room.

  Calliope’s data stick had been a source of irritation for weeks, ever since she left it attached to a Neutronium canister filled with microbots capable of taking out whole planets. We knew it was from her because the drive had been engraved with the words Maius Bonum, a phrase she’d said to us in the past. Added to that, no one else would have left the microbots behind.

  The drive was protected so well that even Mack hadn’t been able to hack it. I didn’t know how Vega had done it, and I didn’t care.

  “What do we have?” I asked, coming to a stop at the main display.

  “Two files,” Mack replied. She tapped something into her data pad and the holo lit up. “A video and a text file.”

  When she didn’t play it right away I glanced over. “Something wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. But there’s something you should know. There’s a reason it was so hard to get into. We assumed—correctly—that it was Union tech, but it’s more than that. This is next gen encryption. Only one branch of the military has access to this kind of thing. The Constables.”

  “Wow, we had a real live Constable on board and lived to tell the tale,” murmured Farah.

  I didn’t laugh. Like the Void and Reapers of Union lore, Constables were equally feared and respected. While the formers were terrifying for their ability to maim and kill, Constables and their Sarkonian counterparts, the Sparrows, were famous for other reasons.

  Rumor had it that they operated independently and could be anyone or anything. Doctors, Renegades, drug dealers, or whatever their mission called for. It wasn’t unheard of for them to infiltrate their own ranks, if needed. Calliope was a perfect example. If she was a Constable, she’d played the part of a naïve Union soldier.

  Played the part so well, in fact, that Farah and I had accepted her with open arms. I’d tortured myself these last few weeks for not spotting her lies sooner. In hindsight they seemed so obvious, but this revelation made me feel a little better.

  “It makes sense,” I said. “Calliope, if that’s even her real name, wasn’t just a good actress. Remember how good she was at everything? She took out that guard on Boltin like it was nothing.”

  Farah shot me a glance. “Right. Didn’t you say she flew through the debris ring at Z-28K with no problem?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Almost like she was trained to be useful in a number of scenarios.”

  “If that’s Constable tech, have you checked to make sure it’s not being tracked or loaded with a virus?”

  The question came from Jax, who spoke for the first time.

  Mack didn’t look bothered by the question. “Sure did, the instant I realized what it was. As far as I can tell, it’s clean.”

  “Alright,” I said, casting a glance around the group. “Let’s just watch it.”

  Wordlessly, Mack tapped on her pad.

  Calliope’s image appeared on the display. She looked much the same as the last time I’d seen her, though perhaps more refined. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun. Her features were arranged in serious lines, her dark eyes fixed on the camera as though she could see us.

  “Captain… Alyss,” she began.

  Nice touch, I thought. Using first names to be more personal.

  “If you’re watching this, then by now, no doubt you’ve discovered my affiliation with the Constables. My mission was simple. Retrieve the stolen replicators and the ingot, whatever the cost. It should have been easy. I didn’t expect…” She trailed off and looked away, as though unsure how to proceed.

  “I didn’t expect to find out you were the good guys. I’m sorry. Really sorry for how things turned out. After the Union realized the ingot wasn’t in the case, they sent me and a team to Z-28K so the whole thing wasn’t a complete failure. On the way there I learned some disturbing news about my government.”

  “What a load of shit,” Mack muttered.

  Farah shushed her so we could hear Calliope.

  “… can’t go into detail, but a trusted source told me they couldn’t end up in any government’s hands. You’re the only ones I trust to keep them safe.” She leaned forward and spoke earnestly. “There’s something big coming. Bigger than the Union, Sarkonians, and Initiative combined. They’re called Celestials. I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you, but maybe the dossier I’ve attached will help.”

  The video stopped and went black.

  “That’s it?” I asked.

  “Vid stops there,” said Mack.

  Farah crossed her arms, a stony expression on her face. “I’m going to agree with you, cuz. Load of shit. Does Calliope really expect us to believe that?”

  On the surface, I felt the same way. Cal had lied to gain our trust, then abandoned us in the middle of battle. My initial feeling was to trash the video and files, forget about her, and pick up another rescue mission. But feelings were how things got messed up.

  “We have to be objective,” I said.

  Both Farah and Mack stared at me like I’d sprouted an extra limb, but Jax just watched with vague interest.

  “Don’t tell me you took that seriously?” Farah’s voice was ripe with disbelief.

  “No, at least not yet. A few things don’t add up though, and I think they’re worth exploring.”

  Mack snorted. “Like what?”

  “First off, the fact that we have the replicators,” I said.

  “Alyss, you know how the Constables work. No cost is too high,” she replied. “Maius Bonum, remember?”

  I leaned back against a handrail and chose my next words carefully. “I do know. And that’s exactly my point. We’re not so important to anyone that the Union would be willing to give us
one of the most—maybe the most—destructive weapon in the galaxy just to earn our trust back. Do you?”

  She and Farah shook their heads in grudging unison.

  I looked at Jax. “Any thoughts?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t trust the Union as a rule, but you got one thing right. They wouldn’t leave that kind of tech with you. It would be foolish to dismiss everything the kid said.”

  “Okay, then we need to analyze and verify everything Calliope said, including whatever is in this dossier. Vega, put up the other file, will you?”

  “Right away, Captain.”

  Several pages of text and images appeared on the holo. I stepped forward and gave them a cursory glance. Farah did the same, but Mack did something on her pad. I let her be.

  “Not an op,” I murmured. “It’s all about a person. Senator-Richard Peralta. Why does that name sound familiar?”

  Farah turned to me with troubled eyes. “He’s on our list of Kaska’s inner circle. Mack has been monitoring them in case we can get to one.”

  “She’s right,” said Mack, moving closer and looking more interested. “Vega, can you put up my files on Peralta?”

  “One moment,” the AI replied.

  It was a quick read. “That’s not much compared to what Cal has,” I commented.

  Mack planted a hand on her hip. “Kaska’s people are well protected. I can only do so much. She would have access to more information than me.”

  “Right. Constables and all that. No offense.”

  She smiled and turned back to the display. “None taken. You’re right, anyway. Routines, family, income… jeez. This goes back. Like all the way back. What’s the point of all this?”

  “It’s information,” said Farah. She studied the data, clearly caught up in it now. “Why give us all this?”

  I thought about it, trying to imagine what Calliope intended.

  “I’ve seen plenty of dossiers like this,” said Jax. When none of us responded, he jerked his chin at the holo. “There’s only two reasons to have that much information on one person. Assassination or abduction.”

  Looking back at the data with that in mind, it did make sense.