Son of Sedonia

by Ben Chaney

  “Go ahead,” said Jada. He reached forward and picked up a piece of steak with his fingers. Brought it slowly to his lips. As he bit down, salty-sweet juice flooded his mouth. Hunger took over everything. He dug in. Jada smiled wide as his cheeks filled to bursting.

  “Not much to eat in Rasalla, is there?” she asked. He froze mid-mouthful. Swallowed hard.

  “No—” he coughed, “No, ma’am...” She handed him a glass of pure clear water. He gulped it down.

  “I can’t begin to imagine what it was like for you. All those years...I’m so sorry, baby,” she said, “We searched everywhere after the crash. Even after they told us all three of your family’s chips had been disabled by the...by the people who found you.”

  Feeling the ghost of the alien object under the flesh of his forearm, Matteo put down the empty glass. His hands retreated from the table to his lap.

  “Why?” he asked, looking up into the strange woman’s eyes. The blue-green circles trembled as they looked back at him. Drops filled and crept down her cheeks.

  “Sweety, I’m your Godmother. Enota, the man you met upstairs, he’s your Godfather. Your parents... When your mother, Patty, was pregnant with you, she and your father asked us to be your Godparents. To take care of you if anything should ever happen to them.”

  Boom. Boom. The far off explosions rippled gently through the windows. Jada saw his glance shift to the skyline. She reached forward and placed her soft, smooth hand on his.

  “It’s okay,” she said, “This’ll all be over when the military gets here. In the meantime, you’re safe here with us...safe for the rest of your life... If you want.”

  His heart ached as the words rolled in his head. He shifted his gaze around the room. This palace in the sky. From it, he would never have to look up again. He could read every magazine, every book. Ride the Superway...hell...buy his own flying car. Date beautiful women and drink at the most exclusive clubs. Eat the best food in the world at any time of day and never go to bed hungry again. And leave it all behind one day. Flyin’ to the stars on the Narayana.

  Then there was the blood on the floor. A stark red path leading to the rich meal in front of him...leading to the woman who would be his mother. The dark memories rushed in like tear gas, flipping the hot meal in his belly. He jerked his hand away from Jada’s and stood up. Jada sighed.

  “Aden...”

  BOOM! Sedonia Tower shook beneath their feet. Spiderweb cracks shocked through the massive bay windows as Jada screamed. Matteo dropped to the floor, then scrambled to cover behind the kitchen counter. There, he remembered Jada. Before he could get up to help her, the door swung open and Andreas and Nicks ran inside.

  “Mrs. Sato!” Andreas shouted.

  “We’re here!” Jada answered. Andreas scanned the room with his gun drawn as Nicks collected her.

  “Come with us, ma’am, we’ve gotta get you down to the bunker with the others!” said Nicks.

  Jada pulled away.

  “Not without Aden! He’s family, he’s coming too!” she yelled in Nicks’ face.

  “Forgive me, ma’am,” Nicks stooped then picked Jada up over his shoulder. She screamed. Cried. Spat curses as she buried her fists and elbows into his back. Nicks cringed, but kept moving to the door. Andreas covered their exit, pointing his pistol wherever he looked.

  “ADEN! ADE—!” The door slammed shut behind them. Matteo grabbed the knife and leaned out of cover. Andreas stalked the room.

  “Come on out, you piece of shit,” Andreas said, “I’m not gonna hurt you...”

  Matteo heard lying curl in the man’s voice. He stayed put.

  “Mr. Sato says he needs you...told us to keep you...SAFE!” Andreas darted around the counter where the blood trail stopped. Matteo had crawled to the opposite side.

  “You know what? I say fuck that. You’re one of them! Bullshit Rasalla garbage...you deserve to burn like all the rest of them. With Sato on the way out, I made a little call...and Ms. Prescott’s gonna pay me a fortune to kill you. Maybe even a couple seats on the—-AAHHHH!”

  Matteo slashed the back of Andreas’ leg, sending the man crashing to the floor. A quick elbow to the goon’s outstretched arm released the gun. Matteo grabbed it. Pointed it right between Andreas’ shifty, terrified eyes. Rasalla burned white-hot in Matteo’s heart.

  “H-hey man...you know I didn’t mean all that, right?”

  “Men like you deserve to die for what you do to us,” said Matteo, leaning in close to Andreas, “But I already broke my promise once.” Matteo lifted the gun and brought the butt down on Andreas’ temple, knocking him out cold.

  “I won’t break it again.”

  Matteo got to his feet and limped through the door to the elevator. No buttons. Just some kind of flat scanner panel. He tried pressing his thumb to it as Andreas had done, but it flashed red instead of green. Dead end. He raced back into the room and looked around. They wouldn’t have locked him in if there were another exit. But maybe I could make one... He remembered the cracked windows and ran over to one. Looked down. Not far below this floor, there was a landing. Some kind of a garden patio with tables and chairs.

  He found his boots, slipped them over his stinging feet, then found the knife. The smooth underskin of his forearm looked up at him. He probed it with a finger. The edges of the thing underneath blurred through the skin and muscle. It carried the truth. All that he was meant to be, all that was stolen from him, and and all that he became. But so long as it was there, he would be hunted. People around him would die. There could be no life in the clouds or the stars, no matter how much he had dreamed about it. He blinked back tears.

  But here he felt the familiar pull. The deep Knowing that had always stayed with him, even when hope had gone.. Utu’s lesson drifted up from his childhood. ‘It is up to you to follow it or not.’

  Okay...

  Matteo aimed the knife-tip to the left of the veins he could see. He took a deep breath. Pushed the point in. Fire shot up his arm to his shoulder as he widened the cut. Stopped. He almost blacked out as he reached in. Blood gushed out onto his fingers and hand and ran down his elbow, dripping to form a puddle on the floor. Slowly, he pressed the buried square of plastic toward the wound.

  He felt an electric shudder ripple through him as the chip popped out in his fingers. It was a clear blue square with gold circuitry crawling over its surface in minute, maze-like patterns. Like a Falari jewel... Staring deep into it, Matteo swooned. His entire arm glistened red in the clean white lights of the suite. He picked up one of his black discarded sleeves and wrapped it around his arm, pulling tight. The blood soaked through, but the fabric seemed to hold.

  Matteo raised his light head and looked at the cracked bay window. Breathing deep into his belly, he took out the gun. Aimed. Exhaled. Fired. The glass shattered in an explosion of shards and dust, sucked out into the high, thin air. He walked to the opening. Took out the chip.

  “I’ll always remember,” Matteo promised. He stretched his arm over the edge and dropped the chip. Watched it plummet out of sight.

  Without the glass, the drop to the landing looked a lot further. But the side of the tower sloped down to the garden, and the windows looked smooth enough. He ran to the couch, grabbed a fat cushion, and returned to the edge. His heart pounded in his chest.

  One. Two. THREE!

  46

  Judgement

  Moments Earlier

  THE EXO IG-8 came out of nowhere, screaming between the smoky, sleeping buildings like a fusion-powered nightmare. It locked onto Jogun’s hover-wake and gained on him in a matter of seconds. He knew the ride in had been too smooth. He had seen shadows and fire moving in every hellish alley and opening. It was almost a relief to see one come to life.

  As he punched the throttle, Jogun’s modded Scout shot through a lane between skyscrapers and came out over the Center Ring. ‘The Mesa,’ Illyk’s people called it. Jogun’s sweat-slick hands quivered on the flight controls as the sheer size of the place
surrounded him. A barrage of sixty cal rounds smacked into his hull. He dodged right. Swerved left and down. The black, beetle-shaped IG-8 kept on him, taking its toll on the Scout’s makeshift armor plating. Jogun looked up at the shining, golden tower top piercing the morning sky. Gotta get crazy...

  He faked right then yanked the wheel back, launching the Scout skyward as hard as it would go. His vision turned red as immense pressure drove him into the seat. He held on through the loop. Gravity shifted and suddenly he was looking down at the IG-8 and the sprawling Mesa below it. Approaching way too fast. Fire! FIRE! His thumbs fumbled at the safety release, then found the buttons. His guns spooled up then belched fire. The stream of bullets missed the IG-8 then swept closer. Closer. HIT!

  Yet as it came apart below him, the enemy ship launched heatseekers. One made it out of the flames. Jogun plunged through the separating fireball, then pulled up for the tower. The missile’s thrusters burst on as he passed, locking onto his red hot engines.

  “Proximity Warning: Collision Imminent,” said the electronic voice of the console. Jogun tried to shake the blip on the radar, twisting, banking, and turning. It stayed on his tail like it was reeling him in. Throttle to the floor, Jogun stared up at the tower, the red light at the top another ten seconds away. Seconds he didn’t have. I tried... He turned the wheel to the side, pointing the ship at open sky. Away from the tower.

  “Emergency Eject Initiated!” The Scout’s canopy blasted off of the frame.

  “Wha—?”

  FWOOSH! The seat launched and Jogun blacked out for a split second. BOOM! He awoke screaming inside an O2 mask. Wind roared in his ears as an intense heat churned below him. His vision cleared, and he looked down. A swirling fireball blackened beneath him as he drifted helpless above it. Sedonia Tower had been slapped with the shockwave, but still stood. The wind pushed him straight toward it. I can still do this! The roof landing pad loomed ahead, but the closer he got, the more the seat’s weight pulled against the parachute. NO! Coming in too low! He struggled in his harness. Managed only to turn it as he crashed through the top floor windows.

  Screams, his own and others, stirred together in the crashing chaos. The ejector seat chassis dug into the floor and ground to a screeching halt. People got up from the floor, dazed and bloody. Ears ringing and nose bleeding, Jogun’s senses gathered out of the fog. He twisted the release on his harness and took out his uzi. Stood up with a sharp whirr of his augmented legs. More screams.

  “Everybody down to the bunkers, NOW!” shouted a man’s voice from somewhere. Must be the man in charge. Jogun focused through the blinding headache, raised his uzi, and fired a long burst into the ceiling. Everyone around him froze as he turned the weapon on them. Their faces. Downcast like beaten dogs. Their whimpers stung Jogun in the chest as his finger faltered on the trigger.

  “N-Nobody—” he ripped the oxygen mask off, “NOBODY MOVE!”. Wind howled through the window as wires sparked and papers fluttered. Jogun’s heart throbbed in his neck, his mind drowning in panic. No Matteo. Only terrified men and women dressed up like black and white statues.

  “What do you want?” said the same voice from before. Jogun whirled, pointing the gun squarely at the source. A graying man stood behind a desk, his olive skin glistening with sweat in the flickering amber lights. He held his hands up.

  “You in charge?” asked Jogun.

  “I...I’m Governor Sato. Anything you want, I’m the one to get it for you. Please let them go...you don’t need them,” said the man. Jogun looked around the room at all the expectant faces. Nodded, keeping the uzi barrel trained on Sato.

  “Get the fuck out! All of you!” Jogun said. The group quietly shuffled to their feet. Ducked low as they scurried out of the room. Jogun stepped over shattered glass and torn furniture as he walked toward the desk. Stuck the gun in the Governor’s somber face.

  “Thank you...” Sato said, “Now...what do you want?”

  Jogun darkened. Clenched his teeth.

  “The brother you stole from me.”

  “Brother?” asked Sato. Jogun yanked the bolt on the uzi with a sharp click. Pressed the gun to Sato’s wrinkled forehead. Sato blinked. Swallowed.

  “I don’t know about any brother,” he said quietly, “What makes you think I have him?”

  “Kabbard.” Jogun watched the understanding slowly dawn in Sato’s eyes. A storming silence hung in the scorched air.

  “Okay,” Sato finally said.

  Sato led the way down to a round room with three doors. Never looking back, he walked to the center door. Opened it with a beep. The man stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the inside.

  “Move!” Jogun shoved him. Sato stumbled and fell to the carpeted floor as Jogun took in the room. An empty wreck. Furniture flipped, table smashed, windows broken...and blood. A pool of it next to a bloody knife. Footprints of it smeared across the floor leading to—

  Jogun clasped his head in his hands and dropped to his knees. The blood in his veins turned to liquid fire. His hands. His feet. His ears. His face. All of it went numb as the fact ripped his soul apart from the inside.

  “Listen,” Sato said, “We don’t know wha—”

  BRRRAPP! Jogun buried a three-round burst in the middle of Sato’s chest. The Governor parted his jacket and looked down. The pressed white shirt turned quietly red as he dropped to his knees. Jogun stood up with the buzz of servos. Turned a dial on his hip. As the familiar thump-whine-thump-whine pierced the air, Sato closed his eyes and waited.

  The kick landed center mass, buckled the ribcage, and launched the Governor limp through the big bay window into the creeping edge of dawn. Fine, red droplets settled on the carpet. On Jogun as he flicked the dial off and let his arms hang. He looked out at the yellowing sky. Took a step toward it. Then another. A humming gathered over the ringing in his ears as he approached the high-arched window.

  He stood on the edge and watched the first of the ships pass overhead and all around him. Gigantic gray-green war platforms escorted by tight squadrons of fighters. Other ships zoomed past them, hurtling toward the burning West. Explosions popped off in the distance. First among the pillars of the Inner Ring. Then throughout the Outer.

  Jogun felt hollow. Blown through by the violent winds whipping into the room. It’s all gone. There’s nothing left. I’m nothing... He leaned forward, trying not to look down first. Did anyway. His chest heaved as the tower stretched forever below him in a sickening slope. But a landing just a few floors down caught his attention. It jutted out from the sheer glass surface like a garden oasis. The faint outline of a body lay still next to a patch of bushes. It wasn’t the Governor.

  “MATTEO!” Jogun called out, hoping. The body didn’t move. He followed the bloody tracks on the carpet to the smaller open window.

  “MATTEO!”

  Jogun whirled at movement in the corner of his eye. Soldiers roped down through the windows of the suite, landing hard on the floor. They stood in unison, each armored from head to foot in bulky, gray-and-white camouflaged Augmentor gear. Ammo mags the size of cinder blocks stuck out of their giant weapons. They turned to Jogun, staring through blank, eyeless masks.

  “Engage!” croaked one of their filtered voices. Jogun planted a boot on the edge of the window and dove as a deafening barrage of slugs tore the room apart.

  Hurtling downward, Jogun kicked his legs underneath him. As the landing rushed up ahead, the soles of his boots started vibrating.

  “OhhhHHHH SHIIIIITTT!”

  His heels bit the concrete and punched through, driving his legs deep into the landing. A shockwave blasted the material out from around him in a deep, round crater. He doubled over, pain shooting through the rest of his body. But it subsided. The fall hadn’t broken him. He winced as he climbed out of the crater. Hobbled through elegant cafe tables and chairs to the body on the ground.

  His brother lay unconscious with a raw gash seeping blood above the eyebrow and a soaked bit of cloth tied around the arm. A torn, b
loody couch cushion sat off to the side. Jogun crouched beside Matteo. Hands shaking, he grabbed him by the shoulders. Shook gently.

  “Matteo! Ahh God...MATTEO! Come on, little man, wake up!”

  47

  Redemption

  THE VOICE REACHED in and pulled Matteo out of a pitch-black dream. He expected to open his eyes in their Slum apartment, staring up at the posters and magazine clippings he’d pasted to the container ceiling. Jogun’s fuzzy image gazed down at him, coming gradually into focus.

  “Jo...?” Matteo said, lifting his head. He felt Jogun’s thin, aug-covered arms scoop underneath him and squeeze. Tears dropped on his shoulder. Matteo’s arms heaved up. Embraced his brother. Behind him, the blinking red light of Sedonia Tower came into focus, followed by the shapes of tank-like men jumping from the window above. Firing.

  “JO!” Matteo yelled, pushing his brother to the side. Jogun rolled and staggered to his feet with Matteo close behind him as the concrete exploded in a hail of sparking debris. They sprinted toward the overhang in the side of the building. As Jogun kicked open the double doors, five armored soldiers slammed down behind them, shattering patio furniture in bursting shockwaves.

  Inside was some sort of eating hall. The two of them wove between the white plastic tables and chairs that lined the tile floor. Jogun reached cover first behind a marble fountain set in the back of the hall. A craning sculpture of a beautiful winged woman reached up out of the fountain, covered in ivy. She blew to pieces as Matteo slid in next to Jogun.

  “Any ideas?!” Jogun shouted above the gunfire. Bits of dust and rock rained down on them.

  “How the hell should I know?!” said Matteo.

  “Man, you’ve had your nose in those damn books since Utu taught you to read! You gotta know somethin’ about this place!” Jogun reached out of cover and sprayed with the uzi.

  “Looked a little different in the pictures, Jo!”

  “THINK!”

  Images of Sedonia Tower drifted in and out of Matteo’s mind as panic begged him to stay present. Okay...escape! Travel. Uhhh, elevators. Superway. Landing pads. Parking Garages. “Parking garages!” Matteo shouted, “Should be one every thirty floors!”