Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series

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Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Page 115

by Hystad, Nathan


  “He’s doing well. He’s working on the terraforming project on Driun. Says its coming along nicely,” she said.

  “Jeez, does everyone know about this but me?” he mumbled.

  “Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Tom said. “What else are you working on these days?” he asked, and Aimie started in, talking about their latest hardware that would revolutionize an issue with elderly Tekol. Tom listened, nodding and asking questions at the right time, but the unopened file from Benitor had him intrigued. It would have to wait, but only until the call was done.

  ____________

  Brandon checked the map again and determined this wasn’t their supply transport coming for an early drop-off.

  “We’re going to need more than a few pulse cannons if we have to defend ourselves,” Carl said, pacing the room.

  They were in the Island, the fifth dome, the entire colony gathered into the mess hall. Brandon still smelled the steamed spinach and rice they’d eaten for dinner, and it was making him sick.

  Carl was right. They were screwed.

  Jun tapped the screen. “This could be random. Just because they’re moving toward Mars doesn’t mean that’s their end goal.”

  “They sent a damned robot to issue a warning. They used his name. Said this place was unsanctioned by President Gordon Basher and Earth. They know we’re here,” Brandon said, running a hand through his shaggy hair.

  “We were all aware that this was not only a possibility, but an eventuality,” Kristen said. “We came to Mars, we repurposed the old domes, and it was only a matter of time before one of our supply runners caved.”

  The rest of the colonists muttered and groaned amongst themselves. “You knew the risks, right?” Brandon asked. “We didn’t force anyone to come. We did it to start over. We left to escape his tyranny. All of us were aware of the possibility of being found out, and we made the choice to try despite the odds. Now we have to fight for what’s ours.”

  Devon stood from near the rear of the room and raised a hand. He spoke with an old-world accent, from a small town. “What’s the point in fighting a war we can’t possibly win?”

  Brandon was about to respond, when Theresa rose. “They’ll kill us no matter what we choose.”

  “Damn right. We stay here, they’ll come. We give up and travel to Earth, they mount our heads on Parliament’s stone wall. Basher will make an example out of us,” Devon said.

  “What are you suggesting, Devon?” Brandon asked.

  “We hop into our freighter, and we hightail it the hell out of here,” he said loudly. A few others clapped and agreed with him.

  “We don’t have space for all of us, and how are we going to feed ourselves?” Brandon asked. “Not to mention, there’s literally nowhere to go. You’ll die just the same.”

  “But on our terms,” Devon replied.

  Brandon glanced at Kristen, who only shrugged at him. Jun and Carl were listening intently and waiting for Brandon to take the lead. “You’d rather run than stand up and fight? Would you rather waste away in the cold depths of space on an empty stomach than make our stand at the home we’ve been working on for a decade?” He hadn’t intended to make a speech, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. He jumped from the table, stalking down the center line between the mess hall’s tables.

  “We found each other—on Earth, in camps, in work details—and spread the word. We managed to escape, after years of planning. We did that. Us. Seventy-five humans, from different walks of life, with one similar goal. Leaving Earth and Basher behind. Every day I wake up, I feel nothing but gratitude for all of you and for what we’ve been able to accomplish. I will not leave on a freighter with nothing but a cooler full of vegetation and desperation.

  “There’s one ship coming. We can’t tell how large it is based on our current information, but we can fight it off,” Brandon said, his heart racing as he halted near the front of the kitchen.

  “And then what? We stop this one, and they send more,” Devon called from forty feet away.

  “Then we do it again.” Carl smiled as he spoke, patting a hand over his heart.

  “How the hell are we going to achieve that?” Theresa asked, but Brandon saw the answer clearly.

  “I have an idea,” he told them, knowing it would be an uphill battle, but one he was willing to stake his life on.

  Five

  Ven waited near the outer edge of the city, anxious to leave. While he’d enjoyed most of his time among the Ugna, he didn’t feel at home here, not like he did on Constantine. Ven had grown used to the camaraderie with Brax and the others, whereas the Ugna rarely spoke to one another unless it was necessary.

  He glanced toward the city and spotted a few of the tall albino people moving through the streets, their pupils dilated, their feet hovering above the sidewalks. En’or was used frequently. He’d seen the injections when they’d fended off the Vusuls, and the destruction the drug could do. Or assistance, he corrected himself. The drug hadn’t killed the invaders; it had merely aided the vessels, which were the Ugna.

  Ven had refused to take an injection since then and longed to avoid En’or entirely.

  “I was hoping to find you before you departed.” Hanli’s voice carried across the landing pad. She appeared from behind a shuttle and pointed at it. “Care for a lift?”

  Ven walked toward her, pointing to the sky. “I was told the crew was sending a shuttle for me.” Constantine should have been in position.

  “I already contacted them and advised that you would be delivered,” Hanli said.

  “Why?”

  “Do we need a reason to spend a few more minutes together?” she asked, but Ven felt the truth behind her words.

  “It was High Elder Wylen’s request, wasn’t it?”

  Hanli actually grinned in response. “You are intuitive, Ven Ittix. Come. I’ll pilot it myself.” She led him to one of the Ugna ships, an older model Concord shuttle, the First Ship logo whited out and painted over.

  She powered the craft up, and he took the seat beside her, their elbows nearly bumping. Ven avoided contact, considering the rush of emotions evoked the last time she’d touched him. Hanli raised the vessel in the air, slowly guiding them from the city’s edge. Ven peered at the forest beyond, the snaking river running alongside the valley’s side, and felt a moment of clarity.

  This would never be his home, no matter what Hanli or Elder Fayle suggested. It couldn’t be. Not any longer.

  “Will you consider my request?” she asked, failing to elaborate.

  Ven sat still, hesitant to rouse her anger.

  “Ven, will you not respond?”

  “I have no place here,” he said truthfully.

  They moved through the clouds, the white mist blinding them through the viewscreen. “Is that so?”

  “I fear I have changed.”

  “We have a fleet, Ven. They would give you a captaincy the moment you asked for it. Isn’t that what you want? Perhaps we could command a ship together. Gallant or Courage.”

  He felt the longing behind Hanli’s words and wondered at her motivation. Surely she wasn’t only interested in him as a partner. There had to be political reasoning behind her advances. “Perhaps.”

  “So you will consider it?” she asked.

  He didn’t have the heart to tell her straight away that it would never happen. He set a palm over her hand as they exited Driun F49, and he was glad her walls were up. She smiled at him, a glimpse of pure joy on her face. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be paired with her, scouring space in an Ugna vessel. He hated how his feelings shifted so much these days.

  Constantine was massive, and his breath caught at the sight of her on the viewscreen. This was his calling, his true mission. Ven couldn’t help but notice the three Ugna fleet ships nearby, as if they were standing guard against their own ally. He wondered if Brax was thinking the same thing on the bridge.

  They entered the hangar, Fir
st Officer Hanli lowering to a gentle landing. She rose, hugging him briefly, and kissed his cheek. “Take care of yourself, Ven Ittix.”

  “Thank you. You as well.” Ven left awkwardly, and the moment he was out of the shuttle, it lifted off, exiting the hangar in a hurry.

  He was home.

  ____________

  “Push it,” Constantine said, and Treena obliged, using her real arms to press the bar. This was the highest setting she’d tried yet, and everything ached. Sweat poured off her face, but she moved the weights. She slowly returned the bar to center and smiled at the AI.

  “Thanks for helping me out,” she told Con.

  “It’s my pleasure, Captain. You’re doing very well,” he said with a wink.

  Treena hadn’t spent that much time with Constantine before this trip, but he was fun to be around. He carried so much wisdom and experience, she fully understood why the Concord had elected to create the AI projections based on the memories of real Concord heroes. Their expertise was invaluable.

  She leaned into the bench and looked at her legs in the shorts. They were thin and pale, her knees too bulbous compared to the rest of her thighs and calves. She saw muscles and flexibility that weren’t there before.

  “Would you care for something to eat?” Con asked, and Treena considered it. Her body was fueled intravenously, like before, but she was slowly starting to eat solid food again. The first few times had been a challenge, but this was another area she saw improvement in each day.

  “Why not?” She hadn’t eaten real food for three years. The last time she’d had a true meal was dinner in the mess hall with Felix beside her, before they were attacked by the Assembly. Felix had devoured the noodle dish he always ordered, and she’d had rice and steamed vegetables. Life in space came with a lot of excitement, but until the fancy chefs of the flagships like Constantine, the food was bland, with few choices.

  “How about Eganian noodles?” she asked, citing Felix’s favorite bland dish.

  “Are you sure you don’t want something with a little more… flavor?” Constantine asked with a smirk.

  “Nope. I’ll take the noodles.”

  Constantine vanished, only to return five seconds later. “They’ll be sent up right away.”

  “Thank you.” She tried to stand, but her left leg buckled, sending her to the floor. Constantine reached out to stop her from falling, but she fell through his arm.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Treena rolled over, using her arm strength to sit up. “Bruised ego, maybe.” She laughed and turned the leg braces on, setting them at eighty percent. She stood, brushing herself off. “I forget how weak I really am.”

  “And I forget that I’m not really here,” Con told her.

  “It must be strange. How are you dealing with it?” she asked, realizing the pair of them were quite the odd couple.

  “It was normal at first, until I removed the blockade the engineers at R-Emergence created. Then I had this flurry of memories, feelings, and ideas flowing through my circuits again. I saw Thomas, a fully grown man, a forty-year-old version of the boy I’d raised. Or helped raise. Let’s be honest, my wife did a lot of that before she passed, then the help cared for him more than I ever did.

  “He was a good boy: smart, charismatic, strong-willed. Tom was me as a youth.” Constantine smiled, his image wavering for a moment before solidifying again.

  “You miss him, don’t you?” she asked.

  He stared at her, nodding slowly. “I didn’t know if it was even possible, but the technicians embedded something special with these AI programs. I do miss him. We had started to grow close. Closer than we’d ever been in real life.”

  “This is real life. You’re a fully aware entity, Con. Do you think I ever expected to be talking to you in my actual body? Technology has made some wonderful advancements, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have you with me during this mission,” Treena told him.

  “I’m glad to be of assistance,” Con said while the door buzzed.

  “Enter,” Treena said out loud, and the serving girl walked through the open suite door. She caught Treena’s gaze and nearly dropped the food tray.

  “I’m sorry, Captain. I…”

  Treena hadn’t even thought about it. None of the crew had seen her like this. Most of them knew she was usually in an android body, but this was different. She looked like a husk of a person: a skinny, malnourished specimen, not the strong woman who stalked around the ship.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Constantine said before Treena could reply. “Set it down, please.”

  The girl lowered the tray to the table with a shaky hand and turned, nearly running from the room.

  “Is this what it’s going to be like?” Treena asked the AI.

  “For a while. You’ll get used to it,” he told her.

  Treena wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She was the captain of this glorious spacecraft, and with that came serious responsibility. Once word leaked that she was frail and scarred, the crew would lose focus and confidence in her leadership abilities. As much as she wanted to wallow in her own self-pity, she decided to focus harder. She would grow strong enough to stop using the android. But not today.

  She walked over to the table, taking a seat. Her place had been modified to add the gym equipment, most of it donated from R-Emergence. There was a healing tank, a swimming simulator—which would strengthen her muscles—and the weight unit, which utilized bars and hand clips, mixed with gravity fields to optimize difficulty.

  Treena sniffed, using her nose to smell the noodles. It brought her back to that last meal, Felix beside her, laughing about something that Max had told him earlier. They were dead, and here she was, the captain of a starship. “It’s not fair.”

  Constantine stood at the opposite end of her table and smiled at her. “It rarely is. We have to take the punches and keep fighting on, because it’s our only option, right?”

  She felt a kinship to the man who’d been larger than life before his death. If she couldn’t have the guidance of her friend Thomas Baldwin, she was happy to have his grandfather by her side.

  Treena lifted the fork with an unsteady arm and tasted the noodles.

  They were terrible. Exactly what she needed.

  ____________

  The file had been so limited, yet unsettling, Tom didn’t know how to react to it. The Ugna had saved Aruto from destruction eighty years ago. He could only surmise the reason the Callalay hadn’t wanted the Concord headquarters at their world was because of the seismic instability. According to the details Admiral Benitor had shared with him, Aruto had nearly been destroyed five thousand years ago. Volcanoes had erupted, covering a tenth of the planet in lava and half of it in ashes.

  This was before the Concord was formed, but not by many years. The Callalay had grown desperate, seeking secondary homes, and when they’d managed to create interstellar traffic—more out of need than anything—they’d discovered other worlds.

  Several details were still unaccounted for, ones that Tom would have to decipher himself while on Aruto, but from what he understood, the Ugna had been brought in to help save the planet thirty years before the Statu ever arrived. That time had been an era of peace in the Concord, and Tom was shocked to learn that the Callalay world had nearly met the Vastness.

  Be steadfast, be vigilant, be strong. The Vastness welcomes all. Tom recited the Code, saying it to himself as he deactivated the projection and drummed his fingers over the desk.

  If the Ugna had been recruited to stop the cataclysm of Aruto, it was no wonder their indiscretions were being overlooked. Tom recalled how quickly Benitor had agreed to the Ugna’s terms when the Concord had needed their assistance in dealing with the Assembly, then the Statu. She’d approved their entrance into the Concord even before discussing it with the Prime, citing that it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Or something along those lines.

  Tom had struggled to comprehe
nd what power the Ugna had over the Concord, and now he saw it. Every time someone mentioned the fact that High Elder Wylen had been hiding one of the Pilia colony ships illegally outside of Concord space, the Prime or Benitor said it wasn’t a concern to them. The sins of the Ugna had been forgiven before they occurred.

  It made sense. “What other secrets are you hiding?” he asked. The Concord’s Founders appeared to be comprised of secrets, their entire alliance built on mutual acceptance of some half-truth, rather than the full version. Humans were homeless, without origin, until they’d discovered Sol existed. How many of them knew about Earth?

  Did the Ugna hold that secret close to their chests, or did the Callalay and Zilph’i, maybe even the Tekol, have knowledge of Earth and the human origin story? He longed to be on Constantine to learn the truth of what had happened to their people, but he also had a draw to learn about Aruto and the Callalay’s deal with the Ugna.

  Benitor had told him to stop digging into the Ugna, but why had she sent him on this mission with Fayle if he wasn’t supposed to uncover any hidden conspiracies? Did Benitor only want him to build his relationship with the Ugna leader?

  Tom stared at the screen built into his wall. It gave the impression of a window, and he watched the stars in the distance as Shu headed toward their destination. His stomach growled, and he decided it was as good a time as any to take Rene and Kan up on that dinner invitation. He sent a message, asking the captain if she and the commander were free.

  The response came quickly. Dinner in an hour. Tom glanced at his ruffled uniform and decided to clean up and change.

  A half hour later, he was pacing the halls, strolling to the fancy restaurant. Each flagship had one, and Rene thought it was a ridiculous feature, but since they constantly seemed to be caravanning some dignitary or another around, they’d become convenient, if not entirely necessary.

  Tom arrived early, telling the hostess he was there to meet the captain. He was ushered to the back room, a private space with Tekol art displayed over the walls. He recognized one of the artists’ works, since Aimie had the original at home.

 

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