Calling Tower (The Calling Tower Saga Book 1)

by Josh Leone

  No. He was a servant of the Holy Mother and She was asking him to protect Her children, children including Julie Marx and Kevin Jacobs and billions of others whose lives would be destroyed if Vashek was not stopped. If Vashek succeeded, all would be forced to live under his madness.

  ‘But how can I get back to the Tower?” asked Sha. ‘I am no longer entangled with it.’

  ‘The universe remembers, Szoveda Sha. It remembers the paths worn through it. Seek your path and follow it.’

  Sha had no physical body, no heart to beat, no lungs to breathe. There was no warmth or cold, no sounds or sights. But Sha imagined them and in this place of mind imagination was enough. Sha recalled the feel of his heart and it beat. He recalled the sensation of taking air into his lungs and they inflated. In this manner Sha mediated and centered his mind.

  He opened eyes that weren’t real and ‘looked’ around. What he saw was supplied by his own memories. He saw a park that he and Pietra had frequented not far from their little house. The park was a large one with many trees and winding paths to follow. His memories supplied details such as the sound of birds singing and the feel of the summer sun upon his skin.

  Pietra was beside him, walking with him hand in hand. He had always been content to let her choose their path, knowing that she favored one that led to a small pond. They would spend hours sitting on the shore of that pond, sometimes talking about unimportant things, but mostly just enjoying each other’s company. Sha looked at Pietra and asked her which way she would like to go.

  ‘Let’s go to the pond,’ she said, pulling on his hand, eager to reach her favorite spot. He let her lead him to the idyllic place, their place, one he would always associate with Pietra’s smile.

  ‘When the time comes, Szoveda Sha, you will enter the water.’

  ‘Until then?’

  ‘Until then enjoy this memory noble warrior. Lay your weary head upon the lap of your lover and be at peace.’

  Sha did so, forgetting for the moment all of his pain and losing himself in Pietra’s eyes. Sha decided that if his afterlife was just this, this day, this place, with her, then it would be enough and he would be grateful.

  ◊

  Seth was grateful to Iyanna for coming up with a solution, at least a temporary one, to Vig’s problem. But he was angry with himself. He should have known the Legion would have something in place in case Seth and Vig decided to get in their way. How long would it have lasted? How long would the Z-Chip have sat dormant in Vig’s head if not activated? Probably forever, all the while just waiting for a chance to take over the old engineer, make a puppet out of Seth’s best friend.

  Seth recalled the look on Vig’s face as he stood on the bridge of the ship he called home, pointing a gun at the man he saw as a surrogate son. Seth had never seen Vig like that, panicked and afraid, not for himself, but for Seth. It tied Seth’s stomach in knots thinking about it.

  The station A.I. had managed to contact a med-ship that operated in the gray areas of Primacy law. The ship specialized in off market neuro-tech and William had assured Seth that the surgeons were top of the line.

  “They’re expensive, however,” William said, “very expensive. But if it’s Legion tech then it’s going to require more than just the usual sawbones to get it out without leaving your friend a vegetable.”

  Seth had told the A.I. what there was in the crew account. It wouldn’t be enough.

  “Can you find someone on this station that might be willing to front us the rest? You’ve seen the Journey. I’ll put her up as collateral.”

  William was able to find a shark with a not too terrible reputation. The shark’s name was Pender Hallen and he was a regular on Far Star. Seth and Hallen worked out the details which, since this was not exactly a legal contract, consisted of vid-chatting a woman named Rachel Isin. Isin was an insurance broker, though not the kind of insurance most people thought of. She listened to the agreement between the two parties, decided on a fee (paid in advance by Hallen, but tacked on to the total amount Seth would have to repay) and agreed to insure the transaction.

  That insurance consisted of a small fleet of attack ships full of bounty hunters who would dedicate themselves to hunting down and killing Seth, Vig, and Iyanna, seizing the Journey, and delivering it to Pender Hallen should Seth default on the loan.

  Rachel Isin was well known in certain circles. She had contacts in the Legion, the Ministry, and the Civil Authority, as well as on nearly every space station out there. One did not get insured by Isin if one had even the slightest intention of defaulting.

  Vig would not be pleased that Seth had gotten them in hock again, but it was not exactly an unfamiliar situation. Seth made final arrangements with the med-ship, collected Iyanna, and set course for the rendezvous with Jonah.

  “And besides,” Seth said, trying to cheer himself up. “We’ll probably die long before we have to pay it back.”

  ◊

  The small ship loaned to him by Caller Teresk was built for speed. It was essentially a cockpit connected to a set of giant engines. Jonah thought Iyanna would love the fast little ship.

  When Jonah exited phase space he was within twenty-thousand kilometers of his destination. Jonah knew his rudimentary navigational skills could not have managed such a feat and was once again grateful to Teresk for her help.

  His destination floated majestically before him. The space station called Tranquility was massive, one of the largest independently owned space stations in existence. The station was almost as large as a Legion world-ship, but instead of stacked discs Tranquility was arranged as a series of domed platforms attached by a dizzying array of bridges.

  Jonah docked his ship with the station, told the computer to return the vessel to Teresk’s estate, and disembarked. On this trip Jonah did nothing to hide his true identity. People made way for him and his status as an Honored Returned let him bypass every security checkpoint.

  He’d docked his ship at the same ring at which he arranged to meet the Enduring Journey so he didn’t go far. There was a mall near the docking ring and Jonah elected to wait in one of the restaurants there. He watched the people shopping and going about their business. There were a few aliens present and Jonah paid particular attention to them.

  Jonah saw that one of the aliens was approaching his table, wearing the uniform of a server. She was more or less humanoid in appearance. A core-space restaurant wouldn’t hire any of the non-humanoid species.

  As the server approached she was intercepted by her supervisor, a human woman. The supervisor appeared to be chastising the server, sending her away from Jonah’s table to take care of an alien couple that had just arrived. The supervisor attended to Jonah personally.

  “Returned, we are honored by your patronage. How may I serve you today?”

  “The other server, what was her name?” Jonah asked.

  “Oh, her name is Clarissa, Returned One. At least, that’s her Primacy name. I’ve no idea what her native name is. I apologize for her.”

  “Why?” Jonah asked without emotion, though his anger was rising quickly. Memories of the Gorwal family flashing through his mind.

  “I would hate for the poor thing to get in trouble. She’s just learning. I’m sure she didn’t mean any offense. If you wish, I could have her apologize to you herself.”

  “Again I ask,” Jonah said. “What is there to apologize for?”

  “Well, she was going to serve you, Honored One. We try to keep the non-humans to their own section but sometimes they become over-eager.”

  Jonah’s ears filled with remembered sounds of a crying Gorwal. His gorge rose and it was only because of his enhanced control over his body that he didn’t vomit.

  “I would like Clarissa as my server.”

  “But, are you certain? It… it’s not usually done. I’m not sure I can do that.”

  “Are you certain I am an Honored Returned?”

  “Of course, Honored One. You identity checks out completely.”
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  “Then you know I have the authority to have this entire restaurant shut down?”

  “Uh, well,” the woman stammered. “Yes, of course. I will have Clarissa come over immediately.”

  “Thank you.”

  ‘I am forever amazed at the diversity of life in the universe.’ Spirit Walker’s thought-voice was cheerful.

  ‘I suppose so,’ replied Jonah wordlessly.

  ‘What troubles you, my brother?’

  ‘Humanity could be such a force for good in this universe. Yet everywhere I go all I see is prejudice and ignorance.’

  ‘Ah, my brother,’ said Spirit Walker’s thought-voice. ‘I wish I could say that my own people were free of such things, but of course our history proves otherwise. I believe that humanity has a great destiny and only lacks a light to illuminate its path.’

  ‘Destiny can be cruel,’ Jonah thought sourly.

  ‘No,’ replied Spirit Walker. ‘Destiny is never cruel, my brother. It is only ever pragmatic. It seeks the most direct route between where things are and where they need to be.’

  The server, Clarissa, took his order, her narrow featured face presenting what Jonah took to be a smile. Humanoid form was fairly common in the universe. Simply put, it was just a very good, highly adaptable design, suitable for a multitude of different environments. But although the humanoid form was common, the details varied greatly.

  Clarissa was a Tomin. Two arms, two legs, a torso with a head on top, but covered from head to foot in a light coat of baby-fine, blonde fur. She had six fingers on each hand including an opposable thumb. She also had a short, barbed tail with a safety cap on the poison tip and a third ‘eye’, which wasn’t really an eye but rather an organ that varied color to express mood.

  “I’m sorry if you got in trouble for trying to wait on me.”

  “No,” she said, her Primacy Standard nearly without accent. “It was no trouble. Thank you for what you did. Having an Honored Returned speak for me will make Beverly think twice before bullying me again.”

  “Please sit down and speak with me.” She did and Jonah saw her smile grow wider when she looked and saw her supervisor’s expression sour. “Beverly is your supervisor?”

  “Yes,” replied Clarissa. “She is the day manager. It’s better at night. The manager is much nicer. He does not take a percentage of our tips.”

  “Why do you work here?” Jonah asked. “Why come to core space at all if you’re treated this way by humans?”

  “Not all humans are like Beverly, Honored One.”

  “Please, just call me Jonah.”

  “I will if it pleases you, Jonah.”

  “I haven’t been Returned very long. But in the short time I’ve been out of the PoPros all I’ve seen are people like your manager.”

  “There have been no exceptions?” she asked.

  “Some,” he admitted. “But not many.”

  “Tomin babies don’t open their eyes for the first time until they are a year old. Until then they communicate entirely with their lemathas, what humans call our ‘third eye.’ We believe that it is very important to keep a baby secluded in a nurturing, joyful environment so that their first sight can be of something good. We do this because we believe that a baby’s first sight determines how they see things from that moment on.”

  “So, because I’ve seen bad things, I am doomed to see only more of the same? That’s not very encouraging, Clarissa.”

  “Ah,” Clarissa said. “But you are not Tomin. You are human. You can choose how you see things.”

  ‘This one possesses wisdom, my brother,’ thought Spirit Walker. ‘I remember the Tomin. During the wars they were explorers. The Tomin home world was a vast repository of knowledge, open to all. It does not surprise me that this one sought to explore your people’s ways.’

  “Jonah?” Clarissa asked. “Are you well?”

  “Yes, thank you,” he replied. “I was lost in thought.”

  Jonah’s tech signaled the arrival of the Enduring Journey. It was time to begin the final phase of his mission. He thanked Clarissa for her time and paid his bill. On his way out he saw the manager, Beverly, eye Clarissa with menace. Jonah suspected that despite what the Tomin woman may have thought the spiteful manager would not let go of the slight she’d suffered.

  As he walked to his destination Jonah opened a channel to his Legion account. Every Honored Returned had a significant discretionary fund at their disposal. Jonah found Clarissa’s name in the Registry of Non-humans and used his access code to open her personal credit account. Into that account he transferred enough credits to provide for her needs for years to come. He recorded it as, ‘Payment for Information.’ It was a common enough reason for making a payment, one that no one would question.

  ‘Once again,’ thought Spirit Walker. ‘You make me proud to call you my brother.’

  ‘Well,’ thought Jonah in wry reply. ‘I’ll probably be dead soon anyway.’

  ◊

  Franks was surprised by what he felt, or rather, by what he did not feel. He’d expected pain and there had been some when Szoveda Sha detonated and the released energy had burned him. It had been sweet release when the water rushed in to crush the remaining life from him. But now there was nothing and it was actually quite pleasant.

  Vashek had prepared Franks for what he should expect once he was released from his body and drawn into the artificial Tower matrix the Caller had created using a combination of advanced technology and the Pash artifact. But no matter how Vashek had described it the reality was still somehow different than what Franks had expected.

  The most interesting thing Franks noticed was that he felt none of what he’d come to describe as his, ‘beast.’ Franks considered the beast to be his true self, something he had to mask from polite society under the guise of a competent P.A. It was the beast that Vashek had most appreciated and as which Franks felt most comfortable.

  The beast constantly strained to kill. It wanted the feel of blood on its hands, the sound of dying opponents in its ears. The beast was violence. Franks had often wondered how much of the beast was psychological and how much was neurological. It was interesting to finally find out. Franks still longed to kill but it was more of an abstract concept now. He supposed this must be what a scientist felt like, exploring something calmly, analytically, more out of curiosity than passion.

  It was a novel sensation but Franks missed the beast. The beast gave him warmth by killing an old man and stealing his blanket. The beast loved Franks, provided for his needs and gave him a reason to exist. Vashek had assured his disciple that his new body would allow Franks to be himself, that the new brain would not change him. Franks trusted Vashek implicitly.

  Franks focused his discorporate consciousness as Vashek had taught him to do. The Olim-Ojim acted as a buffer and a key, unlocking the way to Earth’s Calling Tower in such a way as to avoid detection by the Callers. In addition to making Franks a worthy disciple of the new God, this process would also be a final test of Vashek’s theories.

  Vashek, like all Callers, was deeply connected to Earth’s Calling Tower. He could ‘feel’ any time a consciousness passed through it. He described it as feeling a sudden spike in an electric current. The Olim-Ojim should act in the same fashion as a capacitor in a circuit, smoothing out the current and keeping the flow even.

  If it worked, and Vashek was supremely confident that it would, then Franks should be able to transition through Earth’s tower and into the waiting body with the Callers being none-the-wiser.

  Once Franks had focused properly he began a series of visualization exercises. He summoned his will and ‘pushed’ his way through the nothingness. When it happened it felt like taking an extra step at the bottom of a set of stairs, only much greater. Had Franks had a voice he might have said, ‘OOF!’

  Then he was through, into Earth’s tower matrix. He could tell because he did not feel alone. It was impossible to describe it but somehow he knew there were others in the towe
r with him. Franks had no time to examine the experience further because he was suddenly tossed about as though on a wild sea. A phantom riptide was pulling his consciousness out of the tower. For the first time in his life Franks wondered if his master had made a mistake. The forces pulling at him were titanic, irresistible, and he was afraid.

  But then it was over. His ‘landing’ in his new body was a hard one. Franks felt as though every bone in his body had been broken, but of course that was unlikely given the strength of those bones. He felt very much as though he’d been punched hard on every square inch of his body, all at the same time.

  He felt a tube being pulled from his throat and managed to resist the urge to gag. His first independent breath burned as it filled his new lungs but then breathing became a wondrous thing, a feeling so incredible Franks wondered if he was imagining it.

  His eyes opened and he saw the angel from his youth. Vashek stood beside him. The Caller’s expression was one of genuine joy and approval and Franks felt tears flow freely from his new eyes. He tried to lift his new arm to touch the beautiful face of the angel but his muscles were still uncoordinated. Vashek took hold of Franks’ hand.

  “Welcome back, my son.”

  Franks wasn’t certain he could have spoken yet but if he could have it would not have mattered. Vashek’s words would have choked him with emotion. Vashek had called him, ‘son.’ What greater thing could happen to him?

  It was several minutes before the technicians finished running their checks. Each of them had been bribed and threatened into absolute trustworthiness, at least in the short-term. But that was enough. Vashek only needed them to stay silent for a matter of days, maybe less. The test had worked perfectly.

  “It…,” Franks struggled to speak. “It is good to be back, master.”

  “It is good to have you back, my son.”

  “Will the plan proceed?” Franks asked, his voice still hoarse but getting better with each word.