by Lisa Eskra
"Of course she hasn't. And I'll tell you for the umpteenth time you should just do it and get it over with."
The words in front of him read like a cheap melodrama: "Matt Zoleki is always a little reserved, but the hunky mogul—clad in a leather jacket and acid washed jeans—made time for his wife with a romantic dinner at Fazio's. The couple of five years enjoyed a relaxing day around the city. The late stop capped off an all-day outing for the pair, who attended a charity lunch for Mercy Hospital before catching Mozart's Fifth at Orchestra Hall. 'They were totally into each other,' a source says of the couple. 'He was very polite to all the servers. And in person he's so hot!' Viva Vega also learned he left a 50 dollar tip for the lucky waiter."
He glanced back toward Justine, and his lips curled into a frown. "Do people actually see me this way?"
She raised her eyebrows at being put on the spot. "You are an icon, Mr. Zoleki. Your charitable gala always attracts all the who's who in the American Federation. Face it, you're an attractive, savvy businessman that a lot of people want to find out more about."
"Is that why you took this job?"
"I took the job because I needed a job."
Magnius eyed her suspiciously for a moment. "Mmm-hmm." He returned his attention to the image on the screen. "I'm not a celebrity, and I never asked to be famous. I just want to do my job and help people and not be followed around with photographers hiding in bushes." He tossed the comtab back to the pile on her desk in disgust.
"I guess as long as we're on the subject of bad news, the shipment scheduled to leave for Rêve this afternoon didn't get sorted and packed over the weekend. With Greg and Bert on vacation and the fact we've been undermanned for months—"
"I know." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'll take care of it."
"What about your meeting with the inspectors?"
"They can wait. Or they can leave." Magnius slipped into his office to hang up his coat before hurrying out to the warehouse.
The clean smell of the sea calmed him. He hadn't meant to snap at Justine, but the strain of his job had caught up with him. Even with some of the best wages offered on the planet, the labor shortage frustrated him. Too many people headed off to college looking to get rich quick. Success stories were so publicized that many went for broke on unrealistic dreams leaving an entire generation of disenchanted people who spent more time on break than working.
With his employees readying the boats for the high seas, the warehouse had been deserted. His inability to swim kept him grounded on the docks, but he helped in every way he could. An empty transport sat outside the fish locker, a large freezer that stored fish waiting to be shipped off-world. He unlocked it and glanced around the warehouse to see if anyone else was around. When he was satisfied that he was alone, he cracked his knuckles and went to work.
He stared into the fish locker at the crates with an intense fury. In an act of focused concentration, he furrowed his brow at them, and his scalp began to burn as though sulfuric acid had been poured on his head. The scalding pain dissipated as it spread but did not go away. It made his whole head throb and nudged him to the brink of a migraine. He'd never gotten used to the sensation, and it was the main reason why he never learned to use his powers as casually as other psions did.
With a slight flick of his wrist, a crate whisked through the air, and he stacked them aboard the transport. He was by no means a master of telekinesis, but over the years he'd taught himself to fine tune the ability. Each one took his unwavering concentration due to their size and weight. They contained a hundred pounds of fish apiece, and Rêve was scheduled to get two tons of tuna. If luck was on his side, the job wouldn't take more than fifteen minutes.
Something about the boxes didn't look right. He stopped a crate midair and examined it. "Hold on a second," he said. "That's the salmon. The salmon's not going. Dammit." He began to move it back toward the locker.
All of a sudden, a buzzing sound echoed throughout the warehouse. He touched his left wrist but his implant wasn't the source of the noise. His heart jumped when he spun around and saw Lyneea behind him silencing her pager's klaxon. The distraction caused the crate he'd left hanging in the air to crash on the ground, sending an explosion of frozen fish and icy splinters careening everywhere.
Both of them whirled to look and stood there staring uncomfortably at the mess, not quite sure what to say to one another for some time. He'd never told her he was a psion, and she hated them with a passion. It had never mattered until today, and the weight of her silence made him feel like the biggest asshole in the known galaxy.
She held his briefcase out and put it down in front of her. "Yeah, you forgot this at the house."
"Lyneea, I can explain—"
"Don't." She stared at him full of regret at having seen his obvious display of power, but it was too late to change that. She clenched her fleece jacket shut around her chest, the one she wore during the summer because she was always cold, and crossed her arms. "When were you going to tell me?"
"Never? Please don't be angry. I know it was a huge mistake to hide it from you, and I'm an asshole for doing it, but it isn't a big deal."
"Isn't a big deal? Are you kidding me? You're one of them. How many innocent people have you murdered? How many?"
"I don't—just let me explain."
"There's nothing to explain. You hear me? Nothing. After what that mind raper did to my family. To my mother!" She hauled back and slapped him with all her strength. "You bastard."
Although she'd telescoped the strike well in advance, he let her hit him. By every account, he deserved it. Mind raper…coming from his wife, the derogatory name stung worse than his face did. That insult had always referenced other psions, ones who epitomized lawlessness and immorality. Not him.
He grabbed her wrists before she lashed out again. "I wasn't the one who mind raped her. Look at me—do you think I could ever do something like that?"
"I don't know what you're capable of. Anything, if you're hungry enough. I'd be a fool to think you wouldn't kill me if you needed to."
"I'm not—ugh, I never wanted this to happen."
"What to happen? For me to find out the man I married is a killer? I have no idea who you are anymore. You're certainly not the man I fell in love with. You used me, you son of a bitch."
"I am the man you fell in love with. Being a psion made me who I am today. Can you really blame any of us for hiding it?"
Her expression hardened into a bitter scowl. "I could kill you right now. You hear me? You've earned it. If you had a shred of love for me, you would've told me. But you didn't because you're just like the rest of them."
"I would never kill anyone, Lyneea. If the past five years meant anything, please believe me."
Judging from her hateful eyes, she would never believe another word he spoke. "How could you do something like this to me? You stand there like you don't give a damn, like I'm the one with the problem. Well, you're the cause of it."
"You know as well as I do this isn't just about being a psion, is it…we don't have to go down that road. Don't make a mistake we can never undo."
"There is no fixing this. It's done. And to think I actually believed you hated psions."
"I despise telepaths as much as you do."
She balled her hands into angry fists. "Stop pretending you're not one of them!"
"I can't read your mind. I'm different. I've never met another psion who can do what I can. Let me show you. I'm not a monster." He held out his arms to her but she turned away in an obvious act of disgust. "I still love you. I don't want to lose you."
"It doesn't matter. It's over. Our marriage, everything. I never want to see you again." In a blatant act of contempt, Lyneea flicked him the two-fingered salute with her thumb stuck out between the two fingers and flounced away.
His briefcase fell over after she passed it, breaking its clasp and spilling a mess of comtabs onto the ground. Perfect. He knelt next to it but could not focus on putt
ing it back together. In his heart he knew he'd just witnessed the beginning of the end of his career. And perhaps his life.
Chapter Two
"You need to come get me. As soon as you can. Please."
Captain Ardri Lothian sunk her head into her hands, her kinky hair spilling over her fingers. During breakfast, she'd received an urgent message from Fantasti. Only one person lived there with whom she had any kind of relationship—Lyneea Zoleki, her younger sister, in the middle of another personal crisis.
She stared at the granola bar and water in front of her to avoid glowering at the request. The sweet fragrance of banana and cranberry tempted her after a long night that offered her little sleep. "I'm sorry. The Schenectady isn't anywhere near Vega. We're out at Zion. I don't know when we might be back that way. You know I can't make an exception, not even for you."
She glanced back at the screen to catch Lyneea frowning at her. The sound of squealing children almost drowned out her response. "I have to get off Fantasti. Do you think I can get my marriage annulled?"
Ardri took a bite of her food. She was far too busy to get stuck cleaning up her sister's problems again, and it wasn't her fault if Lyneea kept picking the biggest losers. "You haven't told me anything, you realize that, right?"
Lyneea gazed around self-consciously. "I'm at the hospital." Then, she continued in a whisper. "I don't want to talk about it here. Is there any other ship in the area that can pick me up?"
"You know I'm not supposed to do this," Ardri said as she picked up a flat-screened flightlog of the Allied Fleet and scrolled through a few pages of information on the comtab. "In two days the Kearsarge has orders to stop on Fantasti. I'll issue a pick-up and figure out a way to catch up with you after you're aboard."
"Thank you." A four year-old boy launched himself into her lap, to which she laughed and threatened to tickle him, prompting him to run off with giggles of delight. She brought her hand to the far side of her right eye and spread her first two fingers in the shape of a V on its side. "Later, Didi."
Ardri repeated the gesture. "Later, Lynnie." And with that, the image on the screen winked out.
She leaned back in her seat and relaxed while she finished the remaining granola. "Thank Astra I know better," she said. All of the men she met had the emotional capacity of a five-year old, which didn't make them bad people…just inadequate.
Her calico cat sprang onto her lap and made herself comfortable. Ardri chuckled when she ran her hand along her soft fur. "All I've ever needed is you, Dahlia." The cat meowed in agreement with her.
The computer on the desk in front of her buzzed, and an androgynous voice began speaking: "The time is currently zero seven fifty hours."
She sighed and replaced the cat on the floor. "Duty calls. I'll see you when I get back for lunch, honey." She tied her hair back into a neat bun before jetting out of her quarters and heading toward the bridge.
The Schenectady had been her home for years, and though the drab interior of the spaceship saturated her senses with blandness, this was her domain. Like every other Allied Fleet vessel, pipes snaked through the inner bulkheads. Electrical compartments and recessed doorways interrupted the uniformity of the gray walkways. The rough texture of the floor approximated rubber, and tubes of chemiluminescent gel on the ceiling illuminated the way with natural light. Engineers never gave much thought to comfort or ease of access, but the layout was practical and efficient. After all these years in space, designers finally got it right.
She wondered about her sister for only a moment before she bumped into another bridge officer, Ensign Fred Maxia. "Captain Lothian!" he called as he strode to catch up to her. Because she walked in the middle of the narrow corridors, he had to follow a step behind.
She glanced at him and forced a smile. As usual, his khaki uniform had been pressed to perfection. "Ensign. Ready for another round of battle drills today?"
He nodded. "Absolutely, sir. I promise not to disappoint."
Every crewmember on the Schenectady was the finest person for their post in the entire Allied Fleet, all ninety-nine of them. As the flagship, they had a proud reputation and Ardri planned to keep it that way. She had yet to form an opinion on this brash young man, but with any luck he'd make the cut.
"Would it be out of line if I made a suggestion, sir?" he asked after they reached the forward lift and its doors opened. He gestured for her to enter first. "I have some ideas for making the nav console layout much more effective."
"How long have you been on board, Ensign?" she said as she stepped inside. "Two weeks?"
"Twelve days." Maxia followed behind her and placed his hand on the glossy black panel next to the door. "Bridge."
The lift accelerated upward. "I understand that you came on board highly recommended by the Academy."
"I graduated first in my class."
"Then you must be well aware of article seven, section thirteen, which says all suggestions are to go through the proper channels. There is no 'I' in team, shipmate." She turned to face him and he snapped to attention. "I judge everyone aboard the Schenectady by the performance of those around them. Make this ship a better place, and you'll be at home here. If you can't, you'll be reassigned. Have I made myself clear?"
"Sir, yes sir!" His eyes didn't leave the doors in front of him.
The remainder of the trip to the bridge passed in silence. Ardri was thankful for that. Maxia reminded her of most men she'd dated all her life: cock-sure, arrogant, and superficial. Resourceful, perhaps—if he could prove himself worthy of his post. If not, she'd unload him at the earliest convenient opportunity.
When the doors opened, Maxia hurried to the helm on the far end of the room. Lights ringed the oblong compartment, and electronic displays blanketed every inch of space on the walls. All visible metal had been painted black to give the room an illusion of toughness. A viewscreen graced the bulkhead opposite her command chair, and she often made use of the high-tech gadget. The Schenectady surpassed most contemporary vessels with its weaponry and technology.
Ardri approached Lieutenant Faeun, who'd been on watch for the night shift. "An uneventful night, I trust."
Poppy Faeun stood five feet tall with a short mop of fiery hair styled in the trendy wedge cut of the moment. Her skin was so pale she made Ardri's Negro heritage obvious despite being diluted by generations of multiracial blood.
"Mostly, Captain," she said as she picked up a comtab from the console beside her and handed it to Ardri. "We picked up some strange readings about ten light-years from here."
She glimpsed Faeun's black fingernail polish as she took the computer and frowned at the unusual telemetry. "There's some kind of man-made object out there? Could it be from Zion?"
"I contacted Speaker Theresita, but she reminded me of their strict policy of non-exploration. The fleet doesn't have anything out this way, and the object's of no known Asian design."
The captain strode to her command seat in the center of the bridge. "Well, let's go see what's out there. Ensign Maxia, take us to Gamma Pavonis."
As of 2310, no human had solved the riddle of faster than light travel. In the mid-21st century, a fusion accident led to the first revelations of hyperspace, where velocity was greatly magnified relative to normal space due to its curvature. By collapsing 10 dimensions of space-time, quantum hyperspace merged with real time, allowing distances of 10 light-years to be traversed in a single day.
The first hyperdrive engines inefficiently maintained the resonance fields. Coupled with the weak propulsion capabilities of that era, early space-faring ships took months to reach stars over twenty light-years away. Advances in hyperdrive and fusion technology over the centuries now provided an easy means of transportation from one system to another. Although Astra was fifty light years across at its widest point, it got smaller every year. If one day humans broke the light-speed barrier, such trips could take mere hours.
In modern starships hyperdrive merged seamlessly with standard fusion engines
, which produced a quantum resonance envelope around the ship that extended into hyperspace. Wrapping a spaceship in such a way prevented relativistic time dilation effects, both within itself and with other planets. Navigators plotted careful paths through the galaxy to avoid stars and other potentially hazardous areas, but computers trivialized the once precarious calculations. A photonic divergence field kept spaceships safe from high-energy collisions with subatomic particles in space by reflecting them away. Thus spaceflight had become one of the most secure forms of travel.
They traversed the distance via hyperspace in twenty-five hours. Gamma Pavonis was a yellow-white star orbited by five planets. The system would've been a natural extension of the Zion colony had they branched out into space like the other main factions did. The people of Zion chose to settle the Delta Pavonis system because of its distance from the rest of human civilization. They wanted to be alone with their God, and everyone else let them.
The object had parked in orbit of the third planet, M-class, brimming with plant and animal species. The fourth planet was O-class: oceanic with a vast supply of aquatic life. The crew continued to analyze the strange object in the nearby star system throughout the day. It seemed much too small to be a ship. The metallic sphere was six feet in diameter and possessed no weapons or propulsion system. All attempts to communicate with it had failed.
Maxia turned toward Faeun. "It's almost as big as that rock Ford proposed to you with."
Ardri glanced down at the screen on an aft terminal, wishing Commander Ford wasn't away on medical leave for the week. Great guy but such a hypochondriac. "The results from the science department are in; spectrometric readings show it's made of no known materials in Astra. I think the chances are high that we're dealing with an alien technology."
