Sixth Cycle

by Darren Wearmouth

  “Do you know how my ship ended up in Epsilon? Or what happened to the rest of my crew?”

  “All I know is that it grounded forty years ago near Epsilon. When they investigated, they found you in stasis and the rest of the ship empty. They were one of the smallest strongholds, still are, and wanted to boost their economy by bringing in your ship. They traded with Omicron for assistance to drag it inside their walls. You were popular for a few years.”

  Ninety years in space and forty on the ground. Endeavor could’ve cruised orbit on autopilot until a mechanical defect initiated an emergency landing. It still didn’t answer why nobody was at the controls, or what happened to the crew after landing. If they were still alive and out of stasis, most would be in their late sixties. Somebody would’ve come back for Jake.

  The only way to find out would be to access the mainframe in the hull. Jake didn’t want to go back to Epsilon just yet. He would after establishing his own safety, and Omega might be the answer.

  “If I were you, I’d forget about your colleagues,” Finch said. “We would know if one entered a stronghold. The chances are they were killed by Outlaws.”

  Jake nodded in agreement. “Looks like I’m stuck here. Do you have a place on your team for me?”

  “It’s my turn to ask you a question first. How did you wake up?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He considered why he hadn’t asked himself the same question. Somebody either manually did it, which meant knowledge of his ship’s operating system, or the energy cell had drained to five percent, triggering an automatic procedure. The second explanation seemed the most likely, meaning Epsilon couldn’t put him back even if they wanted to.

  “Wouldn’t you say the timing was convenient?” Finch said.

  Jake shook his head. “Convenient how? I’m finding it just the opposite.”

  “Things are happening, Captain. Toads are moving in the shadows. They want to shoot out their greasy tongues and eat us.”

  Finch’s odd metaphor suggested that Jake was part of a movement against the strongholds. Or at least, that’s what he thought. “You’re saying that I’m part of a plan against you? I can assure you that I’m not.”

  “So you say.”

  Finch picked up the magnifying glass and focused on the dead cabbage white butterfly again.

  “Where do we go from here?” Jake said.

  “I’ve explained the metamorphosis of our world, and how we are in the chrysalis stage. We are still feeding and growing in safety before expanding to be a glorious lepidoptera. Everything has a price, a trade value, including you.”

  Jake’s pulse quickened. Finch intended to use him as leverage for something. “I can be a useful part of your town. Give me a chance.”

  “I’ve done you the courtesy of explaining the situation. Now you have to accept our way of life.” Finch dismissively waved his left hand. “Guards. Take him to the cells and call for the Trader.”

  Ross moved to Jake’s side and pointed a pistol at his head. The two guards grabbed an arm each. Finch picked up a pin from his table and stabbed it through the butterfly’s body.

  Chapter Six

  Skye marched up the white stone steps of Governor Finch’s mansion and balled her fists. If Ross thought she would listen and stay behind at the tower while he filled Finch’s head with nonsense, he had another think coming. She had no doubt that he already concocted a self-promoting story about the attack.

  It was up to her to make sure Finch knew the truth. The return of Sky Man couldn’t be passed off as a minor incident. Nobody in Omega would want to be part of his version of carnage. The attack on west tower had to be him testing their defenses for a larger scale invasion. She didn’t care what Ross said about it; they needed to take the warning signs seriously and be ready.

  She paused outside the Venetian doors at the front of Finch’s mansion and made sure things were straight in her head. Ross would offer a stiff counterargument or say whatever he thought would please the governor. She had to be compelling and put facts and logic ahead of Ross' hot air.

  Finch recovered his doors from a salvage mission to an abandoned old city in the far north. He disappeared on his scavenging trips every week since Skye arrived at Omega. His pet project was turning the once simple-looking structure into a palace and fortress where he could lead the stronghold and display the latest total on the population clock. It provided a constant reminder of the numbers the guard were responsible for, and the ongoing success of his expanding operation.

  Two chrome gargoyle heads were screwed to the door. Iron rings hung from their mouths, acting as knockers. They frightened Skye as a child and reminded her of the twisted screaming faces during the attack on her settlement.

  She grabbed the ring to knock. The door clicked open. She knew her way around the place after living here as a child and decided to proceed to his study. He wouldn’t mind, and she didn’t want to give Ross too long to spin his web of lies.

  Her boots squeaked across the shiny tiled hallway. Finch’s housekeeper, in her smart white dress, descended the staircase and rubbed a duster along the ornate wooden banister.

  Skye cleared her throat; most people did before speaking in Finch’s mansion. Mary glanced over. “Is Governor Finch around?”

  “Skye, how lovely to see you. Will you be staying for lunch? We’re having your favorite, pea and ham soup.”

  She returned Mary’s warm smile. The offer reminded her that she hadn’t eaten for hours. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

  “The governor’s in his study with Captain Ross. Did he bring in Captain Phillips?”

  “I’m sure he’s told the governor that he did. Sam and I found him outside the wall in the middle of an ambush.”

  Mary placed her hands on her hips and looked up. “Let me see. I first saw him in 2176 … or was it 2177. Just over a year after they brought in the ship. We were all so excited.”

  “I can imagine. Doesn’t seem that popular nowadays.”

  Mary sighed. “Things change. I’ve seen enough of that to last me a lifetime.”

  She squirted wax on the twisted spindles and continued to polish.

  None of Skye’s generation were particularly interested in Phillips, although she enjoyed visiting Endeavor Three as a child, and viewed it as a living capsule of a former world that would never come back.

  She continued past an antique mahogany bookshelf stuffed with tatty paperbacks, and reached two varnished wooden doors with brass handles. The one on the left led to the dining room and kitchens. The food here was a step above the stew served at the mess hall, and the smell of freshly baking bread seeped through the gap under the door. Mary’s offer didn’t need repeating a second time.

  Skye opened the door on the right and walked along the bright naturally lit corridor toward the study. Paintings hung on the wall at regular intervals. All of a better quality than the ones that hung in Ross’ office. The one of an old sailing ship, with is sails bulging with wind, was always her favorite. One day she planned to visit the coast and spend hours watching the ocean.

  She knocked on the closed study door.

  “Come in,” Finch shouted.

  The sweet strong odor of cigar smoke hit her as soon as she walked into the office. Finch and Ross sat opposite each other on brown leather chairs. A thin gray cloud lingered over both of them.

  Ross turned his head and scowled. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Finch leaned forward and flicked ash into a tray on the glass coffee table between them.

  “Didn’t I tell you?” Ross said. “She can’t follow simple orders.”

  Skye rolled her eyes. “I think the governor deserves to know the facts about today. I’m here to provide a firsthand account.”

  Finch raised his hand. “Enough. You’re both officers of Omega, and I don’t expect you to argue in my office.”

  “Sorry, Governor,” Ross said.

  “Skye, what are you doing here?” Fin
ch said. “Captain Ross told me that he left you in charge while he reported on the attack and brought Phillips to me.”

  “I left Sam in charge. He’s one of the good guys.”

  Finch dusted ash off his trousers, stood, and approached to within inches of her face. His steely bloodshot eyes bored right into her. This was not a man to disobey. She’d seen him give plenty of dressing downs during her time living at the mansion and didn’t want to be on the end of his next.

  Skye edged back. “I wanted to tell you about the attack. New information has come to light that I think you should know about.”

  “You thought disobeying Captain Ross and coming to me directly would be the best way of doing that?”

  She glanced over Finch’s shoulder at Ross. He gave her a smug grin and relaxed back in his chair.

  “You need to hear this, Governor. I’m serious.”

  “Captain Ross says you claim the attackers were working for this … Sky Man? Haven’t we been down this road before?”

  She traveled the previous road as a frightened girl. This information now came from Omega’s most experienced tracker. “I overheard two wastelanders talking in the forest before a third discovered me. Are we supposed to think that the attack immediately after was a coincidence?”

  “Men you allegedly killed,” Ross said, “making it impossible to question them. It’s all very convenient.”

  “I know what I heard. Whoever Sky Man is, they were his men.”

  Finch walked to his desk, pulled another cigar from a wooden box, and clipped off the end with a penknife. She knew he could get slightly strange with his butterfly obsession, but surely he would see some truth in her words.

  He lit the cigar and sucked until he produced a bright red glowing tip.

  Skye’s eyes stung from the smoke, but she resisted the temptation to rub them. “Perhaps Phillips saw something? He was out in the forest too.”

  “We won’t be hearing from him anytime soon,” Ross said.

  “Where is he?”

  Finch locked his jaw and puffed out a smoke ring. “He’s detained in our holding cells for his own safety. I’ve requested Trader come to Omega immediately.”

  “You locked him up? He helped us, Alexander … he’s not working with the wastelanders.”

  Ross raised his eyebrows. Skye immediately regretted using Finch’s first name in front of another citizen.

  Finch frowned at her and shook his head. “I allow you a lot of leeway because of who you are, but you’re still an enlisted officer in my defense force. You don’t get special treatment, nor do you question my orders. Phillips is not our prisoner; he’s the property of Epsilon and belongs in his box.”

  “Who knows what Epsilon are going to say about his arrival?” Ross added with self-righteous delight in his eyes. “I’m sure they won’t be happy their cash cow has fallen on our doorstep.”

  Skye imagined pistol-whipping the smarmy look off his face and smiled.

  “Do you find Phillips amusing?” Finch said.

  “Not at all. You’re right,” Skye said. It was pointless trying to carry on the conversation with Ross in the room. Every time she tried a reasonable tack, he jumped straight in and sent the conversation down a rat hole.

  “I was just sending Captain Ross back to bring you here,” Finch said. “It seems in your haste to be heard, you have saved some time.”

  Ross stood and straightened his jacket. “Are we finished, Governor?”

  “That will be all, Captain Ross. Thank you for your continued support and service.”

  She cringed after Ross gave Finch a limp salute. He turned on his heels and walked toward the door, giving Skye a look of disgust as he passed.

  The door slammed behind her. Finch’s stern expression softened, and he gestured her to the leather armchair. “What am I going to do with you? Maybe it was a mistake allowing you to enlist.”

  “Alexander,” Skye said, willing to be more informal and plead to the better side of his nature. “I know what I heard. You have to believe me. Somebody coordinated that wastelander attack. They’ve never attacked here in numbers before.”

  He sat opposite and crossed his legs. “But you successfully repelled the attack. I don’t think we’ve anything to worry about.”

  “What if they come in larger numbers? Should we think about demolishing the steps?”

  “I trust you, so I will proceed on the basis that it may happen again. I don’t know who the wastelanders follow or why they grouped together, but I have ordered more men to each of our towers. I can’t do much more than that, I’m afraid. Once the Trader arrives, I’ll talk to him about acquiring more weapons.”

  Skye sighed with relief. She hoped that some of the previous conversation was for the benefit of Ross’ ego. “Thank you. You won’t regret—”

  “But,” he interrupted, “I won’t have you undermining the authority of Captain Ross. You don’t have to like him, but you will listen to his orders. Whenever you act against his orders, you disobey my office. Do you understand?”

  Skye gave him a resigned nod and bowed her head. He acted like a father to her after her arrival in Omega. She hated disappointing him, although she got what she wanted out of her meeting. Extra forces around the wall and more weapons from Epsilon. Hopefully the new shipment would be better than the last pile of junk.

  Finch stood and rubbed his hands together. “That’s settled. How about we grab some lunch?”

  * * *

  Skye ripped a piece of bread off a crusty loaf and dunked it into a steaming bowl of soup. The smokiness of the ham and pepper seasoning immediately hit her taste buds. Mary knew how to cook and never failed to hit the mark.

  Finch watched her and smiled. “Don’t they feed you on the wall?”

  “You should take a trip down there and try it. It’s pigswill compared to what you eat.”

  “You’re always welcome at my table. I miss having you around the place. It’s not the same talking to the paintings and statues, although they don’t answer me back.”

  She rolled her eyes in mock offense. “So, what’s the favor you want?”

  “I need you to lead a convoy out to Zeta. Three casualties require further treatment. The governor has agreed to treat our boys in their medical center.”

  “You want me to babysit a convoy? I’d prefer to stay here in case of another attack. Why not send a junior rank?”

  Skye dunked another chunk of bread in the soup and savored the taste. She appreciated Finch’s offer to dine more regularly, but didn’t want to be seen as receiving special treatment. She’d worked hard since joining the force to avoid any of those accusations.

  Finch pushed his bowl away without touching a drop. “I’m sending you because you’re the only one I can really trust. You’ll be delivering special cargo. A trade I’ve arranged with some friends in Zeta. I don’t want anyone else involved.”

  She rested her spoon in her bowl and looked up. “You’ve cut a deal without telling Trader?”

  “I’ll be honest with you. He doesn’t know and wouldn’t approve if he did. I’m keeping this one off the books, but I can assure you it will lead to a long-term improvement.”

  Finch stood and walked to a drinks cabinet. He unscrewed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a generous measure.

  “Unsanctioned trades?” Skye said, wondering why he would take such a risk. “You know I’ll help, but we’re both aware of the consequences if people find out?”

  “They won’t,” Finch said. He swallowed the whiskey in a single gulp and deeply exhaled. “You know how I feel about the Trader. He doesn’t give Omega a fair deal, and today’s attack shows how vulnerable we are. A few of us are working together to strengthen all of the strongholds. He wants to line his own pockets. I’m thinking about the people. Will you help me?”

  Skye thought for a moment. Finch’s intentions seemed noble, but he asked her to take part in an operation against the rules of the stronghold treaty. She knew it was a
bad idea, yet her history with him obliged her to go along with his scheme.

  “You realize what you’re asking me to do?” she said.

  “I wouldn’t ask anyone else.”

  “I’ll do it, this one time.”

  “I knew I could count on you. There’s just one more thing …”

  “Which is?”

  “After you’ve delivered the goods to my friend in Zeta, he has another job for you. I’ve told him that you are my best tracker and sniper. They’re having a problem with outlaws from the mountains to the west of the stronghold. The leader has them organized, and the attacks are getting worse. Zeta needs him dealt with.”

  Sky frowned. “Dealt with?”

  “I would like for you to take care of him. This man and what he stands for is a threat to all of us. I told my friend you could get the job done. Without leadership they will scatter like common thieves. It would mean a lot to me, and all of our futures, if you could finish the job that Zeta can’t.”

  Killing wastelanders was one thing. They were psychopathic monsters with no morals. Outlaws who lived around the edges of the strongholds were a minor problem; at worst they were imprisoned. The odd murderer might be hanged, but that hadn’t happened for years. Finch wasn’t talking about the pursuit of justice; he wanted an assassination.

  “Shouldn’t he be brought to trial? Zeta can prosecute him under their laws.”

  “Zeta have tried and failed to capture him. He’s dangerous, Skye. If you don’t want to do it, I can find someone else, but I promise you this is the only way.”

  Skye no longer felt hungry and pushed her bowl away. “I’ll speak with your man in Zeta and get the lowdown on the outlaw.”

  Finch smiled. “What would I ever do without you?”

  * * *

  Skye sat in the passenger seat of the SUV, ready to leave Omega for the strange mission. She didn’t feel right about it, but she trusted Finch’s judgment.

  Six members of the force carried their three casualties on stretchers and placed them on the back of a covered truck. Four more heaved on a securely strapped metal container carrying Finch’s special cargo. A second SUV with three guards brought up the rear of their small convoy.