The Agathon: Reign of Arturo

by Colin Weldon

  India flicked her dark brown eyes at Aron and he suddenly realised where this strange line of conversation was headed.

  “And you have such beautiful dark brown eyes,” he said pointing his spoon at her and smiling.

  “I mean, what are the odds of that?” he finished, suddenly losing his smile.

  Stanley’s face suddenly became deathly serious as the emotion drained from his face and a knowing sinister glare replaced it. Aron was about to respond, but he was too late. India suddenly leapt across the table screaming. Grey sticky food was scattered as she tried to land a full force blow to Stanley’s face. He reacted swiftly, grabbing her arm before it could land on his face and the pair tumbled backwards onto the floor. The force of the encounter knocked Aron off the bench. A cracking sound let him know he had injured his lower back. Then the pain followed. He grimaced and tried to get to his knees as India and Stanley rolled around on the floor. Stanley had her pinned to the ground with both arms held firmly above her head. He straddled her, as he leaned both knees on either side of her torso. India let out a feral scream, bringing her knee up and landing a crunching blow into Stanley’s lower back flipping him over her head. Stanley crashed into the food dispensary sending empty bowls and cutlery flying in all directions. Before Aron could get to his feet, Stanley had stood up from the fall and was lunging towards India with a large closed fist. He landed a blow cleanly on the side of her cheek. She managed to hold her ground and he landed another one in her mid-section causing her to splutter and bend forward. He brought his elbow down on her back and India crumpled to the floor. Stanley reached inside one of his chest pockets and pulled out what looked like a long blade attached to a thin black handle. He brought his arm back and prepared to bring the blade down onto the fallen India when Aron’s instincts kicked in. He leapt over India, who was coughing and clearly winded from the blow to her stomach. He crashed his shoulder into Stanley’s chest sending them both careening into the far wall. The blade slipped from Stanley’s hand and fell onto the floor with a clink. With Aron’s bodyweight lowered, it made it easy for Stanley to spin him on his axis and throw him off to one side. He stumbled and fell catching one of his ribs against the corner of a table. He heard a definite crack and a piercing pain as he tried to steady himself. As soon as he had brought his body upright Stanley had landed a blow to his face sending a lightning bolt of pain up to Aron’s brain. Aron knew he wasn’t a match for Stanley’s strength. He was remarkably fast and it was only a matter of time before he outmanoeuvred him. Before he had a chance to retaliate, Stanley had thrust an open hand straight into Aron’s throat. The crushing force of the impact pinned his head firmly against the back wall of the mess hall. Aron looked into Stanley’s crazed eyes and grabbed his thick wrist with both of his hands. His air supply had been completely cut off and the strength in his arms was beginning to fade. With a growl, Stanley raised his arm up lifting Aron completely off the ground. The pressure of his thumb dug deep into Aron’s larynx as he darted his eyes around looking for help. His lungs began to convulse begging for air that would not come and his vision began to blur. It would not be long now. Darkness began to take hold as he suddenly saw a change in Stanley’s eyes. He felt something wet dripping down his face and hands. Stanley looked surprised. It was blood. Aron’s hands were covered in blood. He looked down and saw a blade protruding from the centre of Stanley’s neck. India was standing behind him and had her arm locked around Stanley’s neck. With a smooth slice she pulled the knife across his throat cutting his neck almost in two. A shower of blood covered Aron’s face. He closed his eyes as Stanley’s grip loosened and they both collapsed on the blood soaked floor. Aron coughed and inhaled deeply as his bruised airways flooded with beautiful air. He breathed in deeply, trying to climb his way back to life. He looked up at India who was looking down at him. She extended her bloody hand. Aron had to admit she looked fearsome. He took it and with her help, stood up to meet her. He had to grab her arm to stop himself from slipping on the pool of blood. He took her hand with the knife and tried to slip it from her fingers. She was shaking. He put his hand on her face and directed her eyes up to meet his.

  “India, let it go,” he said, taking the murder weapon from her.

  She was breathing heavily and he could see the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

  “You okay?” he said.

  She nodded wiping a line of blood off her lips.

  They both looked down at Stanley’s body as quiet descended in the room. There was a gurgling sound coming from the edge of his severed neck as pools of blood oozed its way out and onto the floor.

  “We’re fucked,” India said quietly.

  Aron couldn’t help but agree.

  “Yep,” he said.

  The Kandinsky

  “Sir, Hector Stanley hasn’t checked in this morning,” the young man said to Escat who was sitting lazily in his chair reading.

  It was the only printed edition of Charles Dickens’ “Oliver Twist” in the entire colony. There had been a handful of printed books kept in the archives for preservation and he had been given it by Arturo when he had been given command of The Kandinsky. Its pages had been preserved neatly by a resin that had prevented it from falling apart and he kept it neatly in his vacuum safe where he had collected other ancient relics from humanities past. He had left instructions to the crew not to be disturbed this morning and gruffly looked at the man standing in front of his metallic desk.

  “And?” he said gruffly.

  The young man looked at him nervously.

  “Apologies, sir, but you did ask us to report if there was anything unusual regarding ship to ship communications,” he said, looking straight ahead.

  Escat sighed. It was unusual that Stanley wouldn’t check in as he was nearly as meticulous with his routine as Escat was. He folded the book and neatly placed it on his desk. He nodded at the young man and waved him out of his office. Escat turned to his computer screen and swivelled it on its base to face him. He tapped a few commands into the interface and brought up the log of Stanley’s latest communications. They had all been time coded and had come in at precisely the same time every morning. The crewman had been quite correct. He had not checked in this morning and was in fact two hours overdue. Escat bit the side of his lip and wondered. There was nothing on board that scraggy old ship that Stanley could not handle. Maybe he was disposing of Elstone’s body and had simply forgotten about it. Unlikely, but it could happen. Bodies were heavy and he would have to do it alone. He envied him that task. He would love to have seen the look on Aron Elstone’s face as he floated out into space. He would have given him a nice little wave as his eyeballs exploded in the vacuum. He decided he would give him another hour before bringing this to the chancellor. He did not like disturbing him with irrelevant news and was beginning to feel uncomfortable in his presence these days. There was something different about him recently. A distance in his eyes that seemed dangerous. He felt nervous around the chancellor and wasn’t entirely sure that he himself wasn’t about to see the inside of an airlock.

  The Unity

  “Jesus, Cap, I leave you guys for two minutes and you kill a guy,” said Oliver looking at Aron.

  “Shut up, Ollie, what are we going to do about this?” said India looking at him unamused.

  “We need to get him off the ship before he stinks up the place, that’s for starters,” Oliver said stroking his beard.

  “Agreed,” Aron replied still thinking of what he was going to say to the chancellor.

  Sure, accidents happened in space and he had lost crew members on dangerous missions before, but this was different. There was physical evidence sprayed all over the walls and the Colonial Guard would certainly perform a molecular and DNA sweep of the entire ship.

  “India, go get cleaned up. Ollie and I will wrap the body and jettison it out the port side airlock,” he said to her.

  He could see she was afraid. She had been avoiding eye contact with him.

>   “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know what came over me,” she said quietly.

  He walked slowly over to her and placed his hand on her arm. She was still shaking.

  “India, we both know why he was sent here. It was gonna happen sooner or later and … well … shit, you got the jump on him and maybe saved both our lives in the process. So relax. We’ll get outta this.”

  He looked into her eyes and she smiled at him.

  “But first, please go take a shower, yeah?” he said.

  She widened her smile and nodded, moving towards the door. She looked back at him in a way he had never seen before. He wished he could have reciprocated the feeling coming from her eyes. Instead, he turned his attention back to the bloody mess on the ground. The sound of the door hissing behind him let him know that she had left. Oliver looked at him.

  “You’re gonna break that girls heart you know,” he said, “and judging by what I am seeing here, that ain’t such a bright idea.”

  Aron frowned at the engineer and rolled up his sleeves. The feeling of dried blood on his face was beginning to irritate his skin and he was in no mood for jokes.

  “Just grab this piece of shit’s legs, will you? And be careful, she nearly cut his head clean off,” he said, stepping over Stanley’s corpse.

  Oliver gave a mock salute and positioned himself at the base of Stanley’s feet grabbing his ankles.

  “How you want to do this? He’s gonna leak all over the deck if we just carry him straight to the airlock,” said Oliver.

  “Give me your jacket, I will wrap it around the wound,” said Aron.

  “What? No way, you take off your trousers, I love this jacket,” Oliver replied, dropping Stanley’s legs back on the ground.

  “Ollie, I’ll get you a new one, I promise, now take the fucking thing off and give it to me or I’ll tell Arturo you did this and request a seat right up front when he executes you,” he replied, half joking.

  Oliver was not amused. He mumbled something under his breath and removed his cotton jacket handing it to Aron.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” he said, grabbing the coat and taking some tools out of the breast pocket.

  Aron took the coat and wrapped it tightly around Stanley’s severed neck. Oliver looked away as the sound of torn ligaments and crunching bones filled the room.

  “Okay, that’s really gross,” he said.

  “On three,” Aron said, preparing his legs to take the dead weight of the body.

  He counted to three and the two men lifted the body off the floor. There was a squelching sound as it lifted off the blood. Aron couldn’t believe how heavy he was. Stanley was a big man at over six feet, but it looked like it was all muscle. Aron’s throat still ached from the powerful grip that had been around it and he coughed painfully when they finally had him off the ground. Oliver took a breath.

  “Fucking hell, this guy is heavier than The Unity,” he said steadying himself.

  “Okay, straight out the door, Ollie, as fast as you can to airlock one,” he said as they walked with the body towards the door. Aron was surprised at how little blood was dripping from the corpse. He figured most of it had been left on the floor as it felt wet underfoot all the way to the entrance. The door hissed open and the pair walked into the hall. It was all clear. Most of the crew were below decks prepping the final deployment, so their route to airlock one, which was about one hundred yards down the hallway, should have been clear. They moved swiftly. Oliver was walking sideways and looking behind him as Aron kept a firm grip on Stanley’s shoulders. His loose head flopped from side to side and kept knocking from one of Aron’s hands to the other. He tried to ignore the grim feeling and moved steadily down the hall. He reminded himself that he needed to work out and thought that maybe India was better suited to this task after all.

  They reached the airlock door a few minutes later and Oliver pressed the release mechanism to the outer hatch. The door slid open and they placed the body inside on the ground. The pair stepped out, back into the corridor and hit the door mechanism sealing Stanley inside. Aron looked around the deserted corridor and tapped the outer release commands into the console. There was a ten second countdown and a red light flashed intermittently giving the chance to override the command. The two men stared at the corpse lying on the ground and waited. Aron watched closely as the outer door opened and the decompression quickly emptied the contents of the airlock into space. He entered the command to reseal and pressurise the room and looked over at Oliver.

  “We’re fucked, right?” Oliver said raising his eyebrows.

  “Yep,” replied Aron.

  The clean-up had not taken long, and after a few hours the mess hall had been restored to its usual drab looking state, albeit a lot cleaner than it tended to be. That, would probably raise suspicion with the crew, but it didn’t matter. If the chancellor found out what had happened, it would all be over in seconds anyway. After a shower and a change of clothes, Aron went back to the flight deck to check on India. She had gone there to check on things as it had been empty for the last several hours. He had brought her a hot tea and they were sitting in silence looking out at the stars. The final deployment had gone smoothly and all communication buoys were now in place. India had brought The Unity alongside the communications satellite and had allowed the ship to drift beside it. She had her legs perched up on the console in front of her and was sipping her drink. Aron had his arm behind his head and was deep in thought. He was running through the list of all the possible accidents that can happen on a space ship and which one sounded most plausible. He knew it didn’t matter, but maybe it could buy him time to make their move against Arturo.

  “Any luck with the data rod?” he asked her suddenly remembering what Thomas Greenly had been executed for.

  “Huh?” India said, obviously galaxies away in thought.

  “The data rod. Any luck? There’s nobody looking over our shoulders now, better get on with it,” he said.

  The little stick of data had been quietly ignored for the past several weeks. There was too much attention on The Unity to even attempt breaking its coding, and Aron thought now was as good a time as any to discuss it.

  “Oh right,” India said, “No, give it to me.”

  Aron reached down under his chair and ripped open the sealing, pulling out the inch-long transparent device. India took it from him and slotted it into the computer console on the left of her flight control display. She seemed to welcome the distraction and sat up in her seat placing the tea down and focusing on the task.

  “Running a decryption algorithm, this may take a minute,” she said.

  Aron looked at the screen as it glowed to life with streams of code and data symbols. India tapped commands into the computer. Aron admired her skills with computers. Brains and brawn, and a temper to match.

  A few minutes later the computer monitor changed to a menu screen prompting the user to choose which data file they wished to access. There were three main file directories to pick from.

  •Fuel Pods

  •Vishal Output Analytics

  •Vishal PODPERSONELL

  Aron sat up and leaned over to India.

  “Jesus, that was fast,” he said.

  India looked at him.

  “A little too fast?” she said.

  Aron shook his head, not knowing, then turned his attention back to the screen. India selected the ‘Fuel Pods’ directory and the pair watched as a schematic began to take shape on the screen. Aron did not recognise its configuration. It looked like rows of pillars or columns with stacks of oblong containers attached to them. There were four containers in each row and ten rows of four stacked on top of each other. The pillars were set in a circular formation surrounding a larger dome at their centre with cables all leading to the central structure.

  “What the hell is that?” India said.

  Aron shook his head. He had never seen anything like it before in his life.

  “I have no idea,” he said.
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br />   “Some new reactor Vishal is working on?” India said.

  “Could be,” said Aron.

  Aron couldn’t figure out why the plans for a reactor would be of any consequence, as finding a way to generate power had been a generations long battle. It was well known in all the tribes that power levels in the stations were nearing critical. Maybe it was more serious than he had realized. They looked at the computer rendering of the structure for a few minutes more before India returned to the main menu. She tapped the screen and entered the ‘Vishal PODPERSONNEL’ folder directory. Rows and rows of faces descended onto the screen. Each had a set of physiological medical data typed neatly beside them, but no name. Aron did not recognise any of them.

  “Who the hell are these people?” India said.

  Aron shook his head.

  “Scroll through,” he asked her.

  She complied and started scrolling through the list of faces. They looked asleep, or dead. Aron didn’t recognise any of the faces. Which was not that unusual, they could have been files from the original colonial founders. The name of the folder worried him. What were Pod Personnel?

  “I don’t get it,” India said, “what’s so important about these people that Greenly had to sneak this out of Vishal’s lab?”

  Aron agreed. Greenly risked his life to get this data rod out of the forbidden zone and paid the ultimate sacrifice. He would not have done that for old colonial files. India continued to scroll down through the faces. There were hundreds of them. Then something caught his eye that made his heart skip.

  “Stop!” Aron suddenly said.

  India looked at him. Aron was sure it had just been an optical illusion.

  “Go back,” he said sitting up in the chair and leaning over her to get a better look. India complied and started scrolling back slowly through the faces.

  “There,” he said reaching over her and stopping the image.

  He leaned in further to try and get a better look. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was Jennifer. He was sure of it. It was a much younger version of her.