Terminus Project: Mars (Dystopian Child Prodigy SciFi)

by Casey Herzog

  Peter ran a hand through his hair. “You could stay on Mars base for the duration. I'm sure they could use your expertise to-.”

  “-No.” Minerva answered before Peter had a chance to finish. Her whole body seemed to jump as she spoke, and there was a nervousness in her look. She pursed her lips, clamping them tight for a moment. When she spoke again, her equilibrium had returned. “No, I want to be back on the Unity. It'll be easier.”

  “Yeah, I think I get you.” Peter answered.

  Another loaded pause followed. “You are happy I'm coming back right. I mean...we're a team.”

  Peter closed his eyes. “Yeah we are. Tell Alphred it'll be good to see him too. I don't know if that'll mean anything to him.”

  “I'm sure it will,” Minerva said. “Even if he's bad at showing it.”

  A final pause. Peter was torn. He wanted to talk, wanted to keep Minerva with him, but the atmosphere in the office was oppressive. The sense of unease he felt was straining his resolve. “Well then, get here soon.”

  “Okay. I'll see you.” Minerva raised a hand and gave an awkward wave. Peter chuckled just a little then watched as the screen went blank.

  Alone, with only the unseen eyes and ears watching him, Peter allowed himself to lean back in his chair. He thought about the mission ahead, four more planets, more conflict, the definite sense that he would have to kill again if he were to make it to Pluto. He shut his eyes and let the thoughts swim around his head like prowling sharks.

  CHAPTER 21

  “Do you think he's finished?” Ana whispered the question in Jude's ear as the storyteller seemed to end his tale.

  Her whispers were the first words anyone had spoken in what was probably hours, and yet it felt like no time at all had passed. He blinked several times, his mind returning almost confusedly to the world. It was as if he had been sitting in a movie theater on Earth, except, he was certain the movie had not finished. At least, he sincerely hoped it had not. He did not answer Ana’s question, just looked to the man in the center of the mess hall who had held him and his comrades captive to his words for so long. He silently willed him to keep talking to tell the rest of Peter Gabell’s tale.

  Nothing came. As much as the man telling the story knew how to keep an audience’s attention, he knew too when was best to pause. Jude was sure he was not the only one eager to hear more, and the storyteller knew it too. They were all caught in his web.

  For a long moment, nobody spoke. Silence reined in the mess hall, a feeling of tension palpable in the air. Jude took the opportunity to gaze at the armored, bald behemoth who stood in the corner. Minerva Tharsis: one of the most feared warriors in the secessionist forces. Just how had she come to it? How could anyone reconcile themselves to fighting for the same people who had killed their mother?

  As he pondered her drives and motivations, the Martian’s eyes locked on to him: one blue, one green. It was a hard, analytical gaze. He felt himself shrinking before it. He wished she were more like the fun loving free spirit in the story. It was hard to think that this warrior was even related to girl he had just heard described. Maybe she wasn't. For certain, the storyteller would have had to have put his own embellishments and perspectives onto things. He could hardly have been expected to know every word Minerva had shared with Peter Gabell, nor what Peter was thinking in those moments alone on the Unity. Just how much of this homage to the secessionist fighter was true? At least, the main events described by the storyteller seemed to coincide with the established facts of the Unity mutiny as Jude knew them.

  Meanwhile, the silence held by the Retribution’s crew continued. A cursory glance at their faces revealed they were all entranced with the story woven for them by their captors. The younger ones seemed especially spellbound. Jude couldn't blame them. The storyteller had a marvelous talent, and Jude found it hard to accept that the figurehead of his tale had just been killed in this boarding action. After the way Peter Gabell had been described, he seemed almost indestructible.

  “We shall draw things to a close there, for today. There will be a second vigil held tomorrow, which you are all welcome to attend.” Tharsis spoke in a commanding tone, sounding nothing like the carefree bubbly spirit who had set off with the Unity from Earth Gate so many years ago.

  Jude shared a glance with Ana. A second vigil, this would doubtless see them treated to more of Peter Gabell’s story, either that or they would hear of other warriors who had died in the struggle that lead to the Retribution’s capture. Though he could not deny a pressing wish to hear more from the storyteller, Peter couldn’t help feeling he shouldn’t. To do so would expose his mind to enemy propaganda. He had to remember that. Now, he and his cohort had been captured; the enemy would be looking to reap new recruits to their cause. How many of those in the audience might already be considering that Minerva and the other secessionists weren’t so bad?

  Another member of the Unity's crew stood and drew the attention of the imprisoned youths. “You will return to your billets for rest and be called back to the mess hall for supervised meals, one unit at a time. Guards will be posted on the corridor at all times, and no one is to stray from their billet without permission and an escort. I hope none of you construe our generosity for complacency.”

  “That'll do Michael; they get the message.” Tharsis answered the gruff officer.

  When he heard the name, Jude wondered if this was the same Michael who had punched Peter after the simulated combat regime. He wouldn't get the chance to ask.

  All at once, Jude and the rest of his command found themselves ushered to their feet and escorted out of the mess under guard, one group at a time. His cohort was the last to be removed, Minerva Tharsis taking responsibility for escorting them across the living rotunda to their billet. Jude watched as Ana and the other girls in his cohort were filed into their quarters. The boys did likewise, but Jude was prevented from joining them. A large gauntleted hand came between him and the billet door. Jude was forced to wait outside with Minerva Tharsis as they waited for the door to close.

  “You will forgive me, but you and I have more business to attend to before you can join your squad. Perhaps we can take this to the general and chief’s office. Does the Retribution keep a coffee percolator there like the Unity did?” Minerva’s eyes seemed to gaze past Jude, like her mind was elsewhere.

  “Yeah, there’s a coffee machine there.” Jude answered. He felt a little weird being asked something so trivial.

  “Are you a coffee drinker?” Minerva was a blunt talker.

  “Too bitter for me.”

  “Well, I need one. Let’s go.” Minerva began to walk down the corridor once more, expecting Jude to follow. He did so without complaint and in complete silence.

  They walked across the rotunda until they came to one of the ladders that descended down into the main ship. Minerva went first, her movements cumbersome in her armor. Jude wanted to ask her why she didn’t just take the suit off, but didn’t.

  After floating down a section of corridor, they climbed another ladder to the second rotunda: the officers’ quarters and offices. There was a greater contingent of secessionist forces here. As Jude peered through open doors at various offices, he could see unfamiliar faces pouring through the records and ship logs the chiefs of staff had been keeping. It unsettled Jude to see it. He felt like he should say something; tell them to stop. Of course, there was no point. No group of full-grown soldiers was going to listen to some twerp teenager, not when he was stood next to the iron giantess. As he continued to walk past the other rooms, he wondered if Tharsis would let him see his personal record if he asked her for it. He had always wondered just what the chiefs of staff made of him. Once again, he didn’t try asking.

  Admiral Richard’s office had already been cleared. The drawers had been left half open, and an array of jotted notes that the invaders must have deemed useless was left in a scattered pile on the large black desk. Minerva ran a gauntleted hand over the stack of papers and sighed. “I
am sorry we’re leaving so much mess. It will be tidied away respectfully once we have all we need.”

  “It’s your ship now; you do what you like.” Jude didn’t mean to be rude or insubordinate to his captor. He really was just stating things as they were. If the secessionists wanted to decorate the halls pink and turn the mess hall into a dance hall they were fully within their rights to do so. That was the way of war.

  Minerva walked over to the small coffee machine and began to take off her gloves. The process took some time, and it was strange to see her slender feminine hands underneath. The armor the secessionists wore added so much bulk to them. It’s no wonder the knights were so hard to bring down. Even with the gauntlets off, the woman seemed to struggle to operate the coffee machine. Likely the joints in the arm segments were restricting her freedom of movement. Her face twisted and contorted, and then, she seemed to give up. “You make the coffee and make yourself one too. Everyone should get used to drinking the stuff.”

  Jude didn’t argue. He made two cups of coffee, making sure to put significantly less into his cup. Was this his new role; would Minerva Tharsis now make him her personal cupbearer like some queen of ancient times?

  The woman looked down at the set of chairs around the table. They were all too small. She pursed her lips and then eyed Jude again. He felt another order coming. “Help me out of my armor, will you? The suits unlock from the side.”

  “I know. The design isn’t much different from our own, and we made sure to study the armor of those we caught at Mars.” Jude put down his cup and walked over to her side. He was definitely her personal steward now.

  “The Retribution made big gains there,” Minerva admitted. “We had thought the Red Planet was firmly ours. I don’t relish the job of taking her back again. She has seen too much fighting over the years.” Minerva raised her arms to give the youth access to her armor straps

  “You could just leave her be then; accept their people still wish to be tied to Earth.” Jude bit on his tongue lightly as he tried to get her armor pried open. At the last, he succeeded.

  Minerva emerged from the shell of her suit like some insect from a cocoon. Her tall, slender frame was strange for Jude to look at. He had never become used to seeing space born, and it was a struggle not to stare. Minerva didn’t seem to notice, or at least made a conscious choice not to notice his stare. She took uneven steps across the room, her limbs having difficulty adjusting to being out of the suit, and collapsed into a chair. She let out a long sigh and reached for her coffee. The expression on her face as she took a sip was one of sheer relief. Jude took a seat of his own opposite her, nursing his own coffee in his hands as he waited for her to speak.

  “It's all true,” Minerva said. “Everything that happened to us. I know you might want to shrug it off as some propaganda or trick to humanize our cause. I'm sure Admiral Gayle would have said the same to us were we in your shoes.”

  Jude nodded and looked down at his feet. Even without her armor, it was hard to look the giantess in the eyes without feeling intimidated by her. “Your storyteller is very good. I’ll concede you had us all wrapped up in the story.”

  “It is a gift we learn,” Minerva said. Since Earth encrypted the signals of all broadcasts, we have all had to become storytellers. I find it very cozy sitting in a crowded mess and listening to a strong voice inventing amusements for us all.”

  Jude nodded and took his first sip from his cup. He still hated the taste. “And what we listened to was definitely a work of fiction. There is no way your storyteller could know all he did about Peter Gabell, right down to his thoughts.”

  Minerva nodded. “No, maybe not. Still, we are a family out here and have few secrets. If you were paying any attention to the story, you should know that no one knew Peter better than I did. I can attest to the truth of the account. Francis is very good at balancing truth with embellishment correctly.”

  Jude nodded, but his brow was knotted. He put down his cup on the table and tried to look Tharsis in the eye without flinching. “I do appreciate the hospitality you are showing me here. I will admit I prefer it to seeing my crew being locked up or thrown out the airlock. Still, how many of us do you really expect to win over with this pretense of kindness?”

  “Who says it is pretense?” Minerva asked the question casually. She drained the last of her coffee and moved immediately back to the machine for a top off. “You are our family. No one else in the solar system will share the same bond we do: bred from birth to go out and protect Earth’s interests in the void. Surely you can appreciate the kinship?”

  Jude traced the rim of his mug with a finger, eyes looking into the pool of dark liquid rather than Minerva. “Any kinship we had with you was lost when Alphred the Unready declared with the secessionists and undid all the work so many died for.”

  Minerva laughed and returned to the table. “You will be surprised. I wager good money your own crew would eventually have turned on their own. We are just cutting your journey of discovery in half, letting you learn the easy way what we had to learn the hard way.”

  “Then why not just tell us the secret? Why not skip to the ending and tell us what happened to you at Pluto?”

  Minerva smiled and took a long gulp from her second cup. She really wasn’t lying about liking the stuff. “I’m afraid not. You really need the whole context to understand it all. Besides, this is our time to mourn. I know you think we are doing all of this with some super-secret agenda but we’ve lost people just like you. Peter was my closest friend.” She took a deep breath and became still. After a few moments, she came back to herself and took yet another sip of coffee. “I hope you understand.”

  Jude didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say, so just forced himself to drain the rest of his cup. Perhaps then he might be permitted to leave.

  “Tell me, are you particularly close to that girl Ana?”

  The question took Jude completely by surprise. “I couldn’t possibly say.” It was the only answer he could give.

  “She reminds me a little of myself after the incident at Mars: totally dedicated to the cause, willing to die for it.” Minerva’s eyes were downcast and her lips drawn thin.

  “You do not need to worry about her,” Jude assured.

  “I hope not. Just be aware we are keeping an eye on her. You might want to convince her yourself to be more open minded if you can.”

  Jude frowned. “And how do you suggest I do that?”

  “Perhaps hearing the rest of our story will help you.” Minerva’s offering seemed to be made earnestly, but Jude couldn’t believe it. There was no way he could change Ana.

  “It might help if I could have some time alone with her, to speak to her one to one.”

  Minerva smiled at that, she had seen the trick. “Give you time to make a plan to take the ship back? You need to work better on your subterfuge. Still, I’ll consider it.”

  “Thank you.” Jude looked around him, eager to have this strange meeting end. “Can I return to my cohort now?”

  Minerva shrugged her shoulders. “Fine. Still, I will want to talk to you again tomorrow.”

  “You want to check the story you’re telling us is having the desired effect on us.”

  “Something like that.” Minerva sipped a little more of her coffee, showing no signs of getting up. “If you go out onto the corridor one of the other knights will escort you back to your quarters.”

  Jude nodded. “Till tomorrow then?”

  “Till tomorrow, Minerva agreed.

  To be continued…

  Magic Eyes

  Bonus Book 1

  Casey Herzog

  Co-Author: C.J. Scarlett

  ***

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  Chapter One

  I was awakened by a sharp rap on the door downstairs. I could tell that it was still pitch black outside, and I was worried who might be out there at that time of night. I stretched and made an invo
luntary groan of dissatisfaction, having lost the chance to finish my pleasing dream. A faceless stranger had been holding me close and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. I couldn’t remember what he was saying, but I knew I had felt safe and secure, as if the person were there to protect me.

  I went to the window and peered down to see something both strange and exciting: an Elder was patiently waiting, wearing his customary knee-length black leather jacket. I knew that it couldn’t be good. There was no way an Elder would come here, of all places, unless it was absolutely necessary.

  That Elder in particular could be quite intimidating. It was a well-known fact that he was a professor of Natural Studies. When I took one of his classes, it left me shaking my head wondering how he could have such disdain for his students. They were scared of him. Some literally shook in their boots every time he walked by.

  I felt naked and quickly grabbed a black robe from the back of the door. I knew that my father was out. He was quite secretive about his work and I never had the courage to ask him about it. When I went down the stairs, the sensor immediately activated to light my way with each step. As I made my way towards the front door, I took one more glance to make sure that this was nothing to worry about.