The Gambit with Perfection (The Phantom of the Earth Book 2)

by Zen, Raeden

  Cassiopeia, begin takeoff sequence, Brody transmitted.

  The shuttle activated lateral and lower thrusters. The Cassiopeia pushed off and darted away from the darkness until the stars of Vigna, its sky, and its colorful ocean overtook the views in the shuttle. Brody twisted around his column to get a glimpse of the Lorum orb.

  Behind the shuttle, the volcano, the cliffs, cloud layers, jungle, lava, and steam moved farther away.

  “Cassiopeia reports all systems operational,” Nero said. “We can achieve escape velocity.”

  “And I’ve located the spare synsuits,” Verena said.

  “Where were they?” Brody said. He hadn’t been able to find them prior to the descent into Vigna’s jungle.

  “The supply area.”

  “I looked there. Multiple times. I saw nothing. You were with me when—”

  “No,” Nero said, “you saw what the Lorum wanted you to see.”

  “The Lorum—” Verena began.

  “Knew they’d draw us to the center of the exoplanet through the mantle plume beneath the volcano,” Nero said, “and to do so they’d have to remove our synsuits—”

  Brody nodded, not believing his words as they tumbled out of him. “—and they knew we’d need the spares to return to the Earth.”

  “To fulfill the treaty,” Nero said.

  Brody again looked at the Lorum orb. Could he trust the Lorum? Would they allow him to leave when next he returned with the extremophiles? Or might they deceive him once again?

  The team unlatched and suited up. Brody stowed the Lorum orb. Then the team reattached to their columns, bracing for high g’s. The Cassiopeia left Vigna’s atmosphere and soared toward the Lagrange point between it and its blue star.

  “How’re we looking?” Brody said.

  “The wavefunction calculations are sound,” Verena said.

  “Ready to release the exotic matter on your command,” Nero said.

  Damy, Brody thought, I’m coming home. He nodded to Nero.

  The striker shot the missile, the exotic portal opened, Brody collapsed the wavefunction, and the shuttle disappeared.

  ZPF Impulse Wave: Cornelius Selendia

  Blackeye Cavern

  300 meters deep

  A new world, Connor thought. An impossible world.

  The stalactites reflected shades of orange and green bioluminescence above the bazaar. There were women in work boots, children in shorts and sandals, scientists in lab coats, engineers in bodysuits, traders, entertainers, bakers, and growers in overalls. It reminded him of all places in the commonwealth Connor had explored from the West to the East—the hum of Portage during rush hour, the scents of Vivo’s farms, the sweetness of peaches and strawberries and blueberries, the beauty of Natura at dusk with its never-ending sky and lagoons. But it was none of these places. They had left the commonwealth. The people here were free.

  “How do you maintain all of this?” Connor said.

  “By the will and the work of the people, under your father’s leadership, my boy,” Pirro said.

  “Why didn’t Father let me live here?” Connor asked.

  “This freedom comes at high cost, Connor,” Murray said. When Connor twisted his face, Murray added, “Lady Isabelle might invade from below, or Reassortment might seep from above—”

  “Hey, Pirro!” a woman said, waving. Her cheeks were covered with freckles, her hair was frizzed, and her tunic was pocked by dirt. She strolled along the walkway, her baby wrapped around her body in a sheet. Pirro politely nodded. She disappeared into the bazaar, swallowed by the crowd.

  “Come,” Murray said, interrupting Connor’s next query, “we must continue.”

  They entered a pentagonal room rimmed with graphene and garnet. The men sat around a table. “How do you know my father?” Connor said to Pirro.

  Pirro turned to him and placed his wrinkled hand on Connor’s arm. “I met Jeremiah in the year 302. We united the factions that operated in Underground South and Underground East.”

  “How did you get involved?”

  “Traitorous impulses,” Pirro began. He chortled, swiped his beard, then continued, “Oh so very, very treasonous—I had the gall to use my own mind, you see!” Pirro stood now and ambled closer to a workstation ahead of the table. He turned. “Marstone and Isabelle overheard me, and Chief Justice Carmen sentenced me to the Lower Level.”

  Connor gasped. “You’ve been to the Lower Level?”

  Pirro swiped his salt-and-pepper beard. “No, no, I fled to Navita. Security wasn’t as onerous back then as it is now. Once there I heard about someone known on the street as the Liberator, uniting the unregistered of the underground. The Liberator sounded like my kind of person.” Pirro glanced around the room and was met with smiles. He leaned forward, his hands resting upon his cane. “Jeremiah the Liberator united us all and provided security for us to live free of the commonwealth in the underground.”

  The pride Connor felt melted away when he recalled an argument in his secret room in Piscator City’s Third Ward. His father told him he couldn’t leave and that if the Janzers ever found him, they’d send him away. Why do you hold me prisoner here? Connor had screamed in his father’s face. You don’t now understand, Jeremiah had replied, but one day you’ll be able to work on the Block. And you’ll thank me.

  Connor turned to Arturo. “When did you meet Father?”

  “My unit in the Fifth Ward of Vivo City was used by the BP—”

  “On the Underground Passage.”

  Arty nodded. “I helped when and where I was able. It’s not that I hated the commonwealth in those days, but I didn’t love it, not after what I’d seen on some of the farms, the demotions, the Lower Level sentences for violation of the Second Precept and others. Years later, when Perla underperformed in the Harpoons, Jeremiah stepped in. He sent in his commandos to pull Perla from Harpoon Hamlet and she and Martha settled in the Polemon stronghold beneath Haurachesa, but … they …”

  Connor felt his eyes well up. Arty had always sounded sad when he talked about his family, but he’d never let on why. “The gods will punish those responsible,” Connor said, “and so will we.” He put his hand on Arty’s shoulder. “It was after my father helped you with Perla that you offered to take in Hans and Zorian.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “They were babies when the BP built the enclave beneath Hautervian City, and it wasn’t clear the BP had the resources to raise children proper. Your mother insisted the boys would stay with her in Piscator. But your father feared for their safety in the territory the commonwealth knew he and Solstice had moved to following the demotion.” Arty laughed sadly. “Your mother would’ve hurt me very badly had I let anything happen to her sons, she assured me in not-so-kind terms. She soon came to like the idea of her boys being raised as growers.” Arty’s smile disappeared, leaving his face a mask of emptiness. “The arrangement worked out for a while for your family—”

  “Until the Janzers killed my mother in Piscator City, and invaded Vivo City.”

  Arty patted Connor’s hand. “So you see, you’ve been eluding the Janzers since before you could walk.”

  “My days of running are over.” To Murray, Connor said, “You mentioned Captain Barão betrayed you and my father. What was your role in this?”

  “I worked in the RDD on Reassortment. After Captain Barão demoted me, I met up with Jeremiah in Piscator and offered him my expertise in transhuman development.” Murray’s eyes seemed distant as he looked in the corner of the room, then back to Connor. “Captain Barão was supposed to unite the teams and the commonwealth, not take over Jeremiah’s role and banish his team from the Northeast.”

  Connor didn’t want to talk about Captain Barão again. “I’m sorry for you, Murray,” he said. “You’ve been good to my family, and I’ll make sure your honor is restored.” He removed Hans’s z-disk from his leather satchel and handed it to Murray, who inserted it into a workstation and activated it—


  A woman strutted through an entryway with a group of Polemon, stealing Murray’s and Connor’s attention. Her long hair was slicked behind her ears. Her slender build and bodysuit accentuated her muscles. She had thin lips, a taut body, and a pointed nose. With her amethyst eyes, she looked curiously at Connor.

  “Who the hell is this?” she said. “I thought after Zorian we agreed to keep this tight—”

  “Who the hell are you?” Connor said, not unfriendly.

  “Connor, meet Aera,” Murray said. “Aera, meet Cornelius Selendia.”

  More names flew Connor’s way: Gage, Zoey, Isaiah, Brooklyn, Xander, Lizbeth, and more, men and women who sat around the table with them as if they’d done so a million times before.

  “Jeremiah’s boy?” Aera said. She narrowed her eyes. “He looks like he might slow us down.”

  “I’ve slaughtered a hundred fifty-kilogram sharks during the peak, at the fastest times on the Block,” Connor declared, “and I survived the fever, and I escaped Lady Isa—”

  Connor didn’t see Aera spin, didn’t feel her until she’d lifted his arm and thrown him on the ground, where he lay with her knee digging into his chest, her hand beneath his throat.

  “Enough!” Pirro said. He pointed his cane at Aera. She released Connor. He gagged and Arty lifted him. “Save your energy, girl.” Pirro poked his cane at her.

  “Whatever.” Aera waltzed behind the workstation to the head of the table, eyeing Connor as she went. “I wasn’t trying to hurt him.”

  “You are an aera,” Connor said, between coughs.

  “She’s the aera,” Murray said.

  “The First Aera,” Pirro corrected.

  “They say you’re a myth,” Connor said and shook his head. He remembered all the stories from the fishermen on the Block. “They say you perished in the lost territory in the West. They even say you’re a mermaid that rises in the Gulf of Yeuron and strikes fear into men who long for the Pacific Ocean—”

  “All lies,” Aera said. She adjusted her belt, and the shuriken sheathed there jingled next to her pulse guns. “Told well, it seems.”

  Connor squinted at her. The BP was known for its illusions, but she looked just like the legendary Aera, and she certainly moved with the ferocity of one. Then he thought about his journey through the commonwealth with Luke, and another idea struck him.

  “You’re the synbio thief!”

  Who else could boldly break into the RDD? Who else could provide the synisms the Front required to survive?

  “I’m whomever Jeremiah Selendia needs me to be,” she said, seriously and wisely, the way Connor envisioned the First Aera should speak.

  “You mentioned Zorian earlier. What did you mean by that? What’s happened to my brother?”

  Aera raised her brow, looking at Pirro.

  “No more lies!” Connor said.

  “We think he might be feeding intel to Lady Isabelle,” Murray said.

  “No, you’ve got it wrong. Zorian wouldn’t—”

  “Cornelius—” Aera began.

  A youthful BP commando burst into the room.

  They all turned.

  “Luke Locke sends word to the Cavern!” The commando’s stolen military fatigues adjusted to match the room’s hues. “Lady Isabelle attacked the phantom cavern beneath Navita”—gasp, gasp—“Much of her army is dead, but she and the lieutenant survived!” Pirro was about to speak when the commando added, “There’s more!” He caught his breath and swallowed. “They’re back! The Barão Strike Team made it home!”

  ZPF Impulse Wave: Damosel Rhea

  Beimeni City

  Phanes, Underground Central

  2,500 meters deep

  Twilight overtook the archways outside Tortonia Station. Damy bounced up and down, too nervous to think straight, while Verne scanned the holographic readouts. She was going to see Brody, her Brody was alive, and when the time was right she would tell him the news.

  “A Peanowera-bound transport just arrived on track 35,” Verne said.

  “When does it depart?” Damy said.

  “We have to go now.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her through the crowd inside the station. They were nearing the tunnel for tracks 26–35 when a youthful boy, an apparent Courier of the Chancellor in a camouflage cape, slipped Verne’s fingers from Damy’s wrist and stealthily dragged her aside.

  “Hey!” Verne said. He didn’t see the courier. “Damy! Where’re you going?”

  “For you, my lady,” the courier said, handing her a z-disk, “for your eyes only,” and he dissolved into the crowd.

  Verne looked anxiously at Damy, at the maglev track, and back to Damy. He drifted to her. “All you, sister,” he said. “If we miss this one, not me, can’t blame me!”

  “I’m not your sister!”

  “It’s a figure of speech!”

  “Calm yourself! I have an important message!” She extended her consciousness. The entrance to the transport solidified. It hummed from the station, and the new line was soon twenty deep. Verne put his hands on his hips and sighed.

  “They never made it to the Outer Boundary Village,” Damy said. “They were held up in quarantine in Boreas.”

  “Oh,” Verne said, almost hopeful, “what went wrong?”

  “No, no, it’s okay.” Damy paused. She rolled the message through her extended consciousness. “It’s more than okay.” Her tone lifted. “They’ve been cleared for entry.” A conclave. She couldn’t contain herself. The message included a receive receipt and required a response:

  THINK YES TO CONFIRM YOUR ATTENDANCE OR NO TO DECLINE

  Her mind raced, and the YES and NO boxes glowed at the same time.

  She corrected the error, and the YES box winked gold.

  She grabbed Verne’s hand. “C’mon.” She pulled him out of the station and down the golden marble stairs, then onto the wooden North Boardwalk that smelled of caramel and nuts. “Change of plans.”

  “What Damy, what change?”

  “I’ve been recalled to the Brezner Building for a conclave of the supreme scientific board.”

  Part IV:

  Transmigration

  On the Surface: Summer

  In Beimeni: Second Trimester

  Days 177 – 178

  Year 368

  After Reassortment (AR)

  ZPF Impulse Wave: Broden Barão

  Beimeni City

  Phanes, Underground Central

  2,500 meters deep

  “You can’t expect us to believe this report,” Supreme Scientist Dorian Knox said.

  He stroked his deep red beard thoughtfully. A hologram hung in front of the mercury pool, created from Brody’s mind. He’d just finished his review of the journey. When he’d found out the chancellor would host a conclave at the Brezner Building, he’d prepared his presentation based on memories stored in his neurochip.

  “Why would I lie?” Brody said.

  He closed his eyes and shut down the imagery. The keeper bots that transposed meeting minutes for the official record shifted the carbyne-and-glass trellis overhead from opaque to transparent. The Granville sun’s rays sprayed the red rose petals splayed over the pool.

  The board members, who wore light blue robes and enough synthetic gems to buy all of Underground East, accepted hors d’oeuvres from the bots. Brody smelled the fried fish, but though he loved Piscatorian seafood, he declined. He couldn’t eat until the vote, until the board awarded his team the Marks and reaffirmed their standing on the Reassortment research team.

  “I agree,” said Supreme Scientist Nasha Ele. “No man or woman could possibly travel inside a planet to its core and survive.” Nasha’s blackish-purple hair was lifted to a clip at the top of her head, which organized the strands into thicker bands that swirled over her back and dangled near her waist. She rubbed one of those bands between her thumb and forefinger and accepted a glass of Phanean wine. “Put yourself in our places, Captain.” She sipped her wine. “We hear stories of elephant-sized in
sects and beasts and birds, of layered temperature inversions, of Gemini whom threw you into a river … I can’t help but believe the exposure altered your senses—”

  “The Lorum uses the zeropoint field in ways we don’t understand,” Brody said, “lives in a form foreign to us, but that doesn’t make its existence or its power less real.”

  “That’s not the point,” Prime Minister Decca said, pressing a toothpick between his teeth. “What proof do you have of this journey to Vigna’s heart?”

  “You mean aside from the Lorum orb?” Damy said, “or the follow-up transmissions through Candor Chasma’s ansible?”

  “Stealing a metal orb and receiving a few transmissions confirms nothing.” Decca tilted his head, not unkindly. “And you of all people should realize the impossibility of what the Barão Strike Team claims—”

  “It’s not just a metal orb,” Minister Genevieve Sineine said. The Borean minister had greeted Brody and the team upon their release from quarantine in Area 55. She pressed her hands together and shook them near her chin. “I could feel its connection to the ZPF—”

  “All matter that exists from the Big Bang is connected to the ZPF,” Supreme Scientist Vanya Canis put in. “That proves nothing.” Her venomous voice didn’t surprise Brody, for she’d developed with Antosha in preparation for the Harpoon Exams at House Adao.

  “You can have the memory transfer from our neurochips,” Brody said before Vanya could spread more doubt. “That data capture has always sufficed in the past. Why shouldn’t it now?”

  “I agree, we should rely on the facts,” Minister Tethys Charles suggested, “and after that we can let Marstone mine his team’s memories, or put them under Chief Justice Carmen’s scrutiny. A hearing—”