by J. N. Chaney
Mack had one too, and the three of us lifted our glasses in a toast.
“I’m dedicating this one to the gods,” Farah said. “Cause we need all the help we can get.”
“No argument here,” I said, then took a long pull from the glass. The drink wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined. Overly sweet maybe, but it cut through some of the burn as it went down.
Mack flagged a passing waitress to our table and passed her a few loose credits. “Can we get another round of the special? If you keep them coming, I’ll keep tipping.”
The woman smiled. “Sure thing, hon. Coming right up.”
Over the next hour, the three of us proceeded to plow through drinks and bar offerings that passed as edible. A live band played at one end of the bar and a few people were dancing. Or trying to.
We joked, told stories, and pretended to have a good time. Just three girls out on a bender. Somewhere between the drinks and laughter, we did have a good time, even though beneath the veneer of our act, the mission lurked.
I couldn’t help but think of Calliope and her mission. How many times had she found herself in this position, blending truth with fiction to gain our trust?
By the end of it I could barely stand. Farah and Mack weren’t much better and the three of us supported each other as we left.
“Oooh, ominous,” I said, taking in the unusually quiet street with a laugh.
Something, instinct maybe, kicked in and tried to tell me that I should pay attention, but the Shockers had done their job and I was in no shape to do anything but chuckle at my own paranoia. Farah and Mack exchanged a glance, suddenly not quite as drunk as me. This registered somewhere in my alcohol addled brain, but only for a moment, then it was gone.
“Ouch.” I slapped a hand to my neck. “Something bit me. Bug or something.”
“What?” Farah turned to look at me, her face tightening with concern. “Let me see.”
I showed her, wobbly and growing more disoriented by the second. She frowned and pulled a tiny object from the spot.
“What the hell. This is a tranq disk, Mack. I think something’s up.”
Before Mack could reply, Jax stepped out of the shadows. I expected them to look relieved, but my friends stiffened.
“This wasn’t the plan,” Farah said, moving in front of me.
“It was always the plan, Farah. Kaska wants her and my mission is to deliver her when the time came. Now’s the time. Now, get out of my way.”
“No.” Farah pulled her sidearm and pointed it at his face.
Mack didn’t typically carry one and pulled a slim baton out of her jacket instead.
“Guys, what are you doing?” I said, my words slurring from the mixture of drink and drug in my system.
“This isn’t what we discussed,” Farah snapped.
I didn’t reply because the world started to tilt, and I had to sit on the ground or fall. My vision chose that moment to blur and I missed exactly what happened next. Blinking furiously in an attempt to clear the haze, I tried to make sense of the scene unfolding in front of me.
Was this all part of the plan? Everyone looked so serious, but that would be the intention, so I couldn’t be sure.
“I will shoot you, brother or not,” Farah warned Jax.
He bull rushed her, slamming her back. Farah’s body flew back a couple meters and landed hard in the street. Mack, in a quick motion I wouldn’t have thought her capable of, shot forward as Jax took a step in his sister’s direction. She jammed the baton into the back of his neck and backed off, trying to get clear of his reach.
This turned out to be a good move because he roared in pain and gripped both sides of his head before lashing out in all directions, twisting and punching in case his enemy was still in the vicinity.
While he thrashed, Farah got to her feet and ran to me, tripping and stumbling the whole way. Mack joined her and they pulled me up, draping my arms around their shoulders. “Cortez, get your ass in gear,” Farah barked.
My legs felt heavy and it was a struggle to get one in front of the other, so they were stuck half carrying, half dragging me away.
“What’s going on?” I asked. It came out garbled, but Mack seemed to understand.
“Alyss, this was not the plan. I think Jax is still working with Kaska. You need to help us or we’re not going to make it.”
I didn’t get the chance to tell her that my coordination was worse than gone because I was suddenly yanked into the air.
15
Farah and Mack grew smaller as I shot up.
Two arms held me tight, wrapping around my waist, but I didn’t have the motor skills left to twist and see who it was. Logic told me it had to be Jax. When he landed on top of a building a few blocks away, setting me down so I was propped against a mechanical room, I saw it was the Void operative.
He started talking, but not to me. “I know what I’m doing, Leigh.” Jax paused. “Yes, I know the hacker fried something. It doesn’t matter. They can repair it when we get to Xanderis.”
Leigh. The PAI in his head. When Jax saw me watching, he turned his back on me and moved a few paces away so I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
I tried focusing through the fog clouding my senses to understand what was happening. The briefing on the plan seemed a long time ago and I remembered it like a dream slipping through my fingers. Farah and Mack’s concern had been real. But why?
Jax pulled a small item from one of the pouches on his kit and knelt next to me. He pulled my comm out, tossed it away, then replaced it with something that fit around my ear. I slapped his hand away but the drug coursing through my blood was doing its job and I missed by a kilometer.
“Wha’s going on,” I said, fighting to form the words properly. “Not… the plan.”
“Stop it.” The emptiness was back in his eyes and I felt a chill gallop through me. “Don’t mess with this. You’re going to need it to breathe in a few minutes.”
I almost laughed. My hand-eye coordination was nonexistent, so he didn’t have anything to worry about.
He tapped the device and it began to wrap around my head, creating a fitted helmet. I couldn’t see much but it wasn’t important. Jax checked to make sure it sealed, then scooped me up. My head lolled back and I saw the wings of his jump rig shoot out before we were airborne again.
The city lights became pinpricks. I had the fleeting thought that Neblinar was beautiful from up here. Then we were breaking through a cloud bank and my body started to shake from the cold. Neither of us were dressed for a jump this high, but Jax was Void. This was exactly the kind of thing they did.
If Jax had indeed betrayed us he wouldn’t have had time to put together a full jump kit. One of us, Vega included, would have noticed. So, he must have had to come up with this on the fly. Unable to keep with that line of thinking, I wondered vaguely what Farah and Mack were doing,
Running for the Second Genesis maybe. Trying to find out where Jax was taking me. They wouldn’t make it, I knew that much. When Jax’s ship shimmered into view, my last coherent thought was that it was exactly what I expected: rough, and ruthless in its efficiency.
The airlock was open and the last remnants of my lucidity drained away as he maneuvered inside. His wings retracted and the inner door opened after the pressure stabilized. The darkness finally came for me then, swaying me to it with open arms.
When my eyes slammed open, it was to a bright light shining in my eyes.
“Son of a bitch,” I said, then moaned as a pounding in my head made itself known.
My mouth felt like all the moisture had been sucked out of it and my whole body felt like I’d been run over by a hover truck. My shoes were gone but I still had socks on and a gnawing in my belly said it had been some time since I’d last eaten. When had that been?
More importantly, where was I?
“Vega, come in.”
My request was met with silence. I tapped at the comm that should have been in my ear and met nothing but s
kin. Uh oh. That wasn’t a good sign.
Still groggy, I forced myself to ignore the pain grinding away at my brain and look around. A cell. But, again, where? Whose ship was this? Panic tried to worm its way in when I realized my memory was fuzzy. More than fuzzy—it was gone. The realization had me jerking up into a sitting position and my right hand knocked into something. A bottle of water and a nutrient bar. After uncapping the water, I took greedy gulps until it was empty. The bar had no flavor, but it took the edge off my hunger.
To my relief, a small commode sat in the far corner.
With all my immediate needs met, I turned to the next biggest issue. Finding out where I was and why I couldn’t recall anything. Fighting back the dread, I focused on what I could remember.
All right, Cortez. What’s the last thing you remember?
White Cross. A mission to kidnap a senator. The attack. Celestials, a giant robot, and… Calliope. Was she responsible for this somehow? Anger spurted, then cooled just as quickly. No, it couldn’t be her. More was coming back now, and I remembered talking to Peralta on the Genesis. How long ago had that been?
I pushed harder, ignoring the stabbing pain behind my eyes and trying to grasp the shredded pieces of my memory. It was all a blur. Wisps of information that twisted out of reach the more I tried to hold onto them.
After a few more minutes of futile ruminations that only made the headache worse, I switched tactics. No point focusing on what couldn’t be changed or fixed. Right now I had to worry about what I could do. That meant forcing myself to stand and inspect the tiny cell.
As far as cells went, the place was pretty standard. Definitely a ship from the style and dimensions, but one I didn’t recognize. Not even ten paces from end to end and I could touch both elbows to either side. Enough room to do a whole lot of nothing.
The wall without the toilet was completely blank and made from glass. I suspected it was made in combination with something else so a prisoner couldn’t just shatter it, but I filed it away to consider later. The opposite wall had a small, clear window protecting a data pad. It was off, but no doubt used for the shipowner to communicate with their prisoner.
A small 360-degree camera was mounted high in one corner, a red light indicating it was on. I ignored it.
Moving on, I looked for the entrance. It wasn’t immediately discernible, and I wondered how my captor had gotten me inside. Curious, I studied the length of glass. It extended from floor to ceiling and spanned the full length of the cell. One seam down the middle brought understanding. It was a door. I tried to get my fingers into the miniscule crack with no luck.
Stepping back as much as the small space allowed, I crossed my arms. Why would someone use white doors? Unless they weren’t really white. If my head didn’t hurt, I would have slapped my forehead in annoyance. It was a two-way door system.
I couldn’t see out but anyone on the outside could see in. Some of the newer prisons had them, but I’d never been on this side. They were becoming popular because guards could smoke the glass and shut the lights off to enforce solitary confinement without the hassle of moving a prisoner. Not a bad tactic, if pricey.
It occurred to me then that whoever was holding me could be on the other side and my gaze sharpened. I moved closer, cupped my hands around a section, and peered out. It might as well have been a solid wall.
And then it wasn’t. The smoke cleared, leaving the door transparent. I managed not to jump back, but barely. My mouth dropped open when I saw who stood on the other side. Confusion colored my thoughts for a moment, and a flash of recollection hit me. Jax and me in the training room aboard Genesis, sparring. When the hell had that happened? The scene flashed away as quickly as it had come, followed by relief that almost made my knees go weak.
“Jax. Thank gods. Can you break the door down?”
The Void soldier watched me with a blank expression. “How’s the head?”
I frowned. It didn’t escape me that he had ignored my question. “Hurts like a bitch. Having some recall issues. What happened?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Alarms were clanging in my head, every sense telling me that nothing about this was right. “The Celestial attack on White Cross,” I lied.
A muscle ticked near his mouth. Was that irritation?
“I miscalculated with the tranq. Didn’t take into account your recent head injury. The dose is causing your memory loss. It should be back at some point.”
The relief drained out of me, replaced by ice cold fear. “What are you talking about? Why would you tranq me?”
“My mission was to infiltrate the Solaris Initiative and gain Dunham’s trust, then report back to Vice-Admiral-Kaska. You changed things with the attack at his house on Sarkon. When you became the face of the rebellion, he wanted to see what you and Singh were up to, how you knew what he was planning.”
It fit together so perfectly. And I’d missed it. Again. Almost every mission since our encounter with Jax had failed.
“You’ve been tipping him off,” I said bitterly. “I suspected Dunham was behind the bombing or at least let it play out on Solaris. That was by design, I take it?”
“Yes. It created doubt and kept Dunham in the dark about a lot of our missions.”
“How could you do this to your own sister?” It was a longshot, but maybe he had some shred of humanity left in there somewhere and mentioning Farah would bring it out.
“I may have Jax Singh’s memories, but I am not him. The Void have no family, no ties. We follow orders. You will too.”
I suppressed a shudder. “That’s Kaska’s plan for me?”
He nodded. “After he’s gotten all the information out of your head. Then you’ll undergo all the training to become Void. Empty of anything except loyalty to the Empire and your mission.”
“No, you’re lying. I met Dolph. He wasn’t a soulless prick.”
Jax didn’t smile, but one corner of his mouth lifted in a mild sneer. “Not everyone requires the same amount of training, especially if they began at a young age. Someone like you is going to resist. The more you resist, the more the Void will apply their will. Everyone breaks.”
“I won’t,” I told him. “I’ll die first.”
“You might. Not everyone makes it. But, Sergeant-Delgado, a word of advice. Don’t fight it. You’re one of us at heart. A good soldier tortured by emotions and morality. Your ties to the people around you cripple your substantial abilities. Besides, deep down you know freedom isn’t for you. You don’t fit in.”
With those parting words, delivered with such casual cruelty, the door went opaque again, leaving me to stew.
16
I pounded a fist once on the door. Blood roared in my ears, and I felt spots of color stain my cheeks. Spinning around, I cast a glance around the cell, looking for something to destroy but it was woefully empty.
Duped again. That was all I could think. And everyone wondered why I had trust issues. I didn’t want to dwell on the negative but there wasn’t a lot else to do in the tiny cell. Jax had played us from the very beginning.
His status as a Singh alone would have gained him an audience with Dunham. Then his actions on Sarkon all but cemented his place with us. Speaking of my crew, did Farah and Mack know what happened?
I cursed, unsure how much time I was missing. Hours, days, weeks? Impossible to know. I didn’t even know where this ship was headed. To Kaska, no doubt a black site in some remote system where no one would ever hear from me again.
Pissed beyond words with no way to purge it, I slid down against the wall and propped my forearms on my knees. Jax’s comment about my being a good soldier plagued by humanity came back to me. It rang true and that made me even more angry. I knew it was because he wasn’t far off the mark.
Being a soldier was my only skill. I didn’t really fit in anywhere, no matter how hard I tried. The Empire still had its claws inside me and freedom hadn’t really changed a thing. So what did I reall
y have left? Farah’s face flashed in my mind. I hated to think of what this would do to her. With Jax’s betrayal and my disappearance, would she ever get the peaceful life she so craved?
If Jax spoke the truth—and I had no reason to doubt it now—Kaska planned to turn me into a Void operative. I imagined myself as a mindless tool, cutting down the Vice-Admiral’s enemies without compunction.
Imagination running on full throttle, I spent a few long minutes picturing friends and innocents slaughtered by my hand. That was a fate worse than death. I would escape or die trying. Rage poured through me, hot and visceral.
Jax was wrong. Emotion may be a weakness at times, but it could also be a strength. Without it, people were just husks, making decisions based on cold logic. That’s what a Void operative was, the ones like Jax, anyway. A weapon, enslaved to an unjust master.
Emotions made us human. And there was one of our enemies who had an abundance. Kaska had demonstrated a number of times how his rage could cloud his thinking. He made mistakes and I would be ready when he did again.
Resolute, I raised my eyes and stared at the camera watching me with its unblinking red eye.
This wasn’t over.
I knew bits and pieces, but that would have to be enough for now. First, I was going to see Kaska. I found it improbable that he would want me on Sarkon. A facility made more sense. Navari’s files hadn’t mentioned anything like that, but something was tugging at the back of my mind.
It had to be information locked away by the memory loss. I’d told Jax my most recent memory was from White Cross. That wasn’t strictly true. There had been a flash of us in the training room on the Genesis. I brought the image, foggy as it was, back into focus.
Trading blows, no pads. My hand on his chest, feeling a heartbeat in steady rhythm. The meat parts are the same.
Unless I was badly mistaken, we’d been preparing for a mission. A mission that included Void soldiers. I pulled on the thread, going back to the conversation with Peralta. He had information about the ingot. We’d grabbed him because Jax confirmed the Void main base of operations was in the uncharted system of Xanderis, somewhere the Senator had been visiting.
