The Founder's Strain (The Age of Man Book 2)

by David Brush

  When he opened them again, he found himself in an empty chamber, lying on a hard bed. His head swam as he sat up, dazed. Both of his shattered forearms had been wrapped in a concrete-like cast, and they pulsated as he put his weight against them.

  “Welcome back to reality, Dr. Nightrick,” came a gravelly voice from behind him. The doctor spun around to face the man, who wore the same battered armor which he’d seen on the orbital platform over Dawn.

  “What was that?” asked Nightrick, squinting at the shadowy figure. “Who are you?”

  “In time,” replied the man, walking towards the open door of the chamber. “Come with me, Doctor. I’d like to show you something.”

  Nightrick pushed onto his feet and followed his captor through the door and out into the complex beyond. Stone walls with all manner of carvings lined the pathway as they walked along, cast in the dim light of the torches burning overhead. At the end of the long hall, the stone doors slid aside for the duo, revealing a terrace jutting from the side of the tower. The pair walked out into the open air beyond, taking in the salty scent swirling up from below. Nightrick looked out over the platform, elevated some stories above the rocky coastline surrounding the spire. All around the complex, cracked and craggy terrain stretched as far as the eye could see, punctuated only by the waterfront the terrace was suspended above. Before him, across the horizon, an endless sea stretched, boundless and bare. He blinked rapidly as his eyes struggled to adjust to the purplish light being cast down through the planet’s atmosphere.

  “Welcome to the Kingdom of Dusk, the eternal night that you created,” said the masked figure, staring out into the distance. “Billions of stories left untold. This place is the dead land, and all so that you could fuel the fire of your ego. Was it worth it, Doctor?”

  “Whatever happened here, I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Oh, but you did. You still don’t recognize me, do you? My name is Francis Wraith, King of Dusk and Dread Lord of the Shadow Fleet. But those are simply honorifics that will mean little to you,” he said, waving his hand as if to dismiss them. “No, you’ll know me as Patient Y. You remember now, don’t you? You said that through me, humanity would finally obtain immortality. I was the final piece of your IMMORTAL Initiative, the grand finale. I was resurrection.”

  “Impossible,” said Nightrick, stepping back a pace. “You can’t be. Patient Y disappeared with the Lost Fleet decades ago.”

  “Yes,” wheezed the Dread Lord. “The Fourth Fleet, lost forever. A terrible tragedy. One I’m sure you held in great ceremony back on Earth. But we didn’t just vanish, Dr. Nightrick.”

  The doctor frowned. “Why have you brought me here?”

  “For two reasons. The first is that I require your assistance. You are many things, and among them, humanity’s foremost scientist. For that reason, you still draw air.”

  “And what’s the second?” asked Nightrick, staring at the melted visor of the man beside him.

  “The second is that you must atone for your crimes. You will be punished for the things you’ve done. I had hoped to bring justice to your apprentice alongside you, but James Mercer proved more difficult to obtain than I had hoped. Fear not though, Doctor. He will be dealt with in due time. For now, you will do what I ask of you, and you will do it without question.”

  Nightrick shook his head. “If you think I’m going to help you in any way, you’re delusional.”

  The Dread Lord strained another laugh. “Defiance will do you little good here. You will do as I ask of you, or I will destroy you with a weapon you cannot hope to fight.”

  “Your fleet?”

  “No, Doctor. The truth.”

  Admiral Dorian looked down at the dusty planet below him from the bridge of his flagship, the Silica. The dreadnought hung low over Mars, in full view of the sprawling refugee camp that had been established just outside of the Terra Meridiani Colony. Smoke continued to trail out of the smoldering wreckage of the shantytown.

  “This is insanity,” he muttered to himself as the sound of the moving blast door broke through the ambient hum of the deck. The admiral turned towards the commotion.

  “Sir,” said the white-clad captain, approaching from the far end of the bridge. “We’ve received word from System Defense that another refugee junker has entered the system. They’re redirecting them here as we speak.”

  Dorian’s jaw clenched. “That’s the fifth this week. This is completely untenable. Soon there’ll be more refugees on Mars than humans. And what then? Earth? Perhaps General Bismuth would like us to offer them lodging on our dreadnoughts while we’re at it.”

  “Perhaps,” said Captain Viridian. “Since we’re apparently not going to be using them for anything else.”

  The admiral nodded. “There’s the truth of it, I think. The sphinxes level a blatant act of war against us and we sit here, despite wielding the most powerful fleet in the galaxy, like glorified social workers.”

  “Yes, sir. Everyone onboard agrees with you. We should be deploying towards Sphandaria, not Dawn.”

  “Pssh,” said Dorian, waving his hand to dismiss the notion. “Those avian monsters assassinate Dr. Nightrick while decimating the Third Fleet, and Bismuth’s response is to send us rummaging through the debris looking for answers that are already obvious to anyone with half a brain. We should be hitting them in their capital now, while we still can. By sitting here twiddling our thumbs, we’re only assuring that the coming war is fought within our solar system instead of theirs. One heavy strike now and we could end the entire conflict before it even truly begins. Think of how many lives we could save with decisive action.”

  The captain’s datacuff glowed a soft yellow before chirping lightly. He ran his finger along the display, silencing the sound. “The junker I mentioned has been rerouted.”

  “Wonderful,” said Dorian, looking around the large bridge. Except for the core crew, the deck was abandoned. He turned his attention back to the rust-colored planet below. From orbit, the refugee camp looked more like a tumor growing off of the larger colony than anything else.

  The admiral frowned slightly. “Has there been any word from the deployment?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Captain Viridian. “Our force has successfully brought the camp under martial law. A curfew is in effect until you decide to lift it.”

  “Casualties?”

  “Three protestors, all sphinxes. From the reports we’ve received, lethal force was used against the trio after they brandished a device that looked like an IED. Upon closer inspection, the unknown object was determined to be a voice amplifier, alien in origin. We have no reported casualties from our deployment, but the territorial militia has confirmed numerous light injuries.”

  The admiral nodded. “Good. And what of this supposed ‘council’ that initiated the riots?”

  “All are in detention, except for the leader of the pack, a sphinx by the name of Harin Karosh. As we speak, a team is en route to bring him in.”

  “No,” said Admiral Dorian, turning back towards the captain. “Tell them to fall back immediately. As long as we have him located, there’s no place for him to hide. I’ll bring the sphinx bastard in myself. I mean to teach Governor Zuma how to administer justice before I leave him on his own again.”

  “As you say, sir,” said the captain, swiping the command into his datacuff.

  “Anything else, Captain?”

  “Sir, just one last order of business,” said Captain Viridian in a hushed voice. “In conversations I’ve had with some of the other officers, we’re in agreement that we all swore our allegiance to Dr. Nightrick. What our species needs now more than ever is strong leadership of that caliber. No one gave General Bismuth the right to assume command in the event of a crisis. James Mercer and Haley Hall were to be Nightrick’s successors, should that tragedy ever arise. With both of them killed in the attack over Dawn, we must choose a new leader, not fall backwards into Bismuth’s grasp. He has no authority short of the mandate he
was left with.”

  Admiral Dorian raised his eyebrow ever so slightly. “Careful now, Captain. What you’re saying borders on treason.”

  “No, sir, don’t misunderstand me. All I’m saying is that Nightrick derived his power from the will of the masses. Shouldn’t our next leader be held to the same standard?”

  The admiral stared straight ahead, down at the ashy camp below. “Perhaps. After all, power to the people.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  James felt himself being dragged, but still hadn’t found the strength to open his eyes through the pulsing pain in his head. Based on the feel of the uneven ground beneath him, he could tell that whatever he was being pulled on was thin. Summoning all of his will, he forced his eyelids open, squinting through the brilliant sunlight as he came to a halt on a particularly jagged stone. He edged himself up a touch.

  “James,” said Haley, turning back from the forest she had been staring into. “You’re finally awake.”

  As she reached out to touch him, he pulled back away from her.

  “I’m sorry, my love,” she said, gently running her fingers along the deep gash across his forehead. “I don’t know what came over me when we landed. I felt… I felt different.”

  James looked deep into her eyes, studying the now visibly cracked glaze that coated the surfaces of each. “What have they done? We need to get back to the ship, Haley. I think you’ve been poisoned.”

  “No,” she said, stroking his arm. “Everything is fine, James. I just lost my mind for a moment after we crashed. I was shell-shocked when I climbed out of the wreckage. The only other person who made it out on their own was the bastard who was in the cockpit with you. Luckily, by the time he crawled out I was already waiting with a coil rifle. I made him tell me everything.”

  “Well what did he say? Who were they and why did they attack us?”

  Haley scanned the perimeter for a moment before replying. “They said that they served a man named the Dread Lord. Apparently the intention was to take us back to their flagship before jumping. They weren’t counting on you crashing the transport.”

  James sat up a bit more. “But how did they get onto the ship with us?”

  She shrugged, brushing a strand of her auburn hair out of her face. “He said that there are Plague Bearers all over the galaxy. That’s what he called them. Humans, sphinxes, slugs, hivorians, and on and on, working endlessly to spread the affliction.”

  James shook his head. “Impossible. There’s no way they slipped sleepers onto our ship. Why the hell would anyone want to spread the Plague anyway?”

  “To transcend, he said. They’re fanatics from what I could gather. Not too fanatic though, obviously. This guy couldn’t keep his mouth shut once a gun was pointed at him. If he’d been someone like a Crusader, he’d have died before even telling me his name.”

  “Great,” said James, shooing away a small insect hovering near his face. “Another cult. And did you ask him what they did to you?”

  “He just kept saying that they set me free. I couldn’t get anything else out of him before he tried drawing on me and I had to shoot him. We have bigger problems than that right now though. When I went hunting this morning, I came across a sphingian search party. They’re looking for us, James, and they probably think we attacked them. After spotting the group, I ran back to camp as fast as I could, threw you onto this blanket, and dragged you halfway through the goddamn forest before they could locate the crash site.”

  “Shit,” he said, fumbling with his pant leg. He pulled the bloodstained cloth up, finding a deep gash still oozing underneath. “We need to get in contact with Denova.”

  “That’s if the Eternity is still in one piece even. Whatever destroyed the orbital station might have been capable of downing it,” she said, looking at the tear in his skin. “That looks nasty. Here.” She unslung her rucksack and pulled a small tube out of one of the side pockets. “The last thing we need is that getting infected.”

  James ground his teeth as she rubbed the burning gel over the cut.

  “That’ll have to do for now,” she said, sliding the tube back into her pack. “Do you think you can stand?”

  “Let’s find out,” he said, pushing onto his feet in an unsteady flourish. The leg pulsed with pain, but held. “I’m not going to be running any marathons, but at least you won’t have to carry me. We need to keep moving. If those beasts get their hands on us, they’re likely to shoot us on the spot.”

  “Or worse,” she replied, wrapping her arm around him for support as they started off into the bush. “In the event of Dr. Nightrick’s death, the line of succession gets traced through us. If they manage to take one of us, they’ll have their strongest bargaining chip since the massacre over Venus. We can’t allow ourselves to be captured, James, no matter what happens.”

  “They’re not going to capture us. There’s only one way off of this rock anyway,” he replied, pushing a sappy branch aside. “Though Dawn doesn’t have a settler population, it’s still got its own planetary defense grid. Command wanted a contingency plan in the event of a hostile occupation. There should be some three thousand war droids connected across the matrix, not to mention a modest air force and navy. If I remember correctly, there are eight installations between the two continents. We could activate the droids from any one of them, presuming we make it there alive.”

  Haley smiled, helping James over a large root jutting from a nearby tree. “You’re right! If we can bring the system online, we’ll be able to secure the planet ourselves. And here I thought you’d zoned out in all of those meetings.”

  James grinned back at her. “I tuned in and out. Whenever they got to something interesting I listened. Still couldn’t tell you shit about the tributary systems though.”

  “Well don’t worry about that. I’ll handle whatever limnology issues we come across. By the way…” She lapsed into silence, tensing up and swaying slightly. After a moment, her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed in a violent fit, shaking across the rough floor of the forest. James fell with her, scrambling to push aside anything that she might impale herself on while she continued to jerk about like a fish out of water. He moved to touch her, but thought better of it. As he retracted his hand, he heard a cawing sound from somewhere behind him. He looked in the direction of the noise, squinting. There, a mile or two down, he could just make out the bipedal shapes, approaching on foot.

  “Oh shit,” he said, looking up as the sound of flapping whistled through the wind. The sphinxes seemed almost angelic as they soared overhead, scouting ahead of the ground team. Their hard, armored bodies were suspended by the massive wings that sprouted from their backs, shoving the air down in powerful gusts.

  James looked back at Haley, who was now quivering more so than jerking. White foam had leaked out of her mouth again and bubbled lightly down her cheek in a long strand of drool. Her eyes shot open, and James stared at the fractured glaze, which now looked like shards of stained glass scattered across her otherwise turquoise irises.

  “Haley, they’re here. We have to g…,” he started, cut short by the impact of her hand with his solar plexus. He reeled away from her, trying desperately to draw the air back into his lungs as she pushed onto her feet. With a heave, he lurched up, just barely blocking her fist with his forearm.

  “Stop,” he wheezed, hobbling sideways as she rounded on him. “Sphinxes.”

  She turned, seeing the beasts charging through the thicket towards them. Without another word she pushed past him, racing off into the woods.

  James cursed, starting after her as best he could. His wounded leg throbbed with every impact it sustained against the uneven ground.

  “Haley,” he wheezed, watching her hurdle another fallen tree up ahead.

  Behind him, piercing shrieks filled the air as the hunting party descended upon them.

  “Fuck,” he mumbled, limping behind while Haley bolted through the tangled web of branches and vines with a nimbleness he
couldn’t hope to match. Not sparing so much as a backwards glance, she pushed into the clearing and hurtled straight off the side of a cliff in a graceless lunge.

  The shadow of the scouts circling above shaded James as he finally made it to the edge of the embankment, looking down into the rapids below.

  “Surrender human,” said the sphinx, landing behind him. “You’re surrounded.”

  Cursing again under his breath, he tossed himself out over the side of the ravine. He plunged down into the rapids like a stone, twisting as the cold water assaulted his senses. The raging current shoved him forward while he struggled to swim up to the surface. Flailing, his bad leg slammed against one of the numerous rocks lining the bottom of the river. He didn’t feel anything as he faded into darkness.

  Haley clung tight to the small rock rising up out of the river, just upstream from one of the countless falls that coursed along the winding path. She tracked the limp body that had surfaced finally, floating towards her facedown in the freezing water. For a long moment she considered letting him pass, down a ways and over the drop. But despite her longing to watch him plummet, she felt herself reaching out. As his body floated close, she grabbed him, and, with all her might, managed to swim them both to shore. Rolling over on the coast, she scanned the skies, looking for the scouts. Nothing but sunlight and white clouds met her gaze. Satisfied that they had temporarily lost their pursuers, she pushed onto her feet and dragged James into the woods. The canopy above was so dense that no scout would be able to spot them from overhead. For a good mile she pulled the limp body, finally reaching a small clearing, where she leaned his back against the base of a thick tree and sat down across from him. After catching her breath, she moved to lift him once again. As her hand reached out for him, his eyes shot open and he slumped forward a bit, vomiting water onto the dirt below.