Shedding the Demon

by Bill Denise

  The SSD sat behind a small desk inside one of the vehicles, leaving Reave to stand across from him. “So, why are you here, exactly?” The SSD asked as soon as he settled in the chair. He maintained a straight-back posture befitting a proper military man.

  Reave remained loose, purposefully putting on a non-military stance. He leaned against the wall of the mobile office and crossed his arms. “I’m after the same target that you are.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about. This is strictly a training exercise.”

  “You’re a poor liar, Director.” Reave paused and then sighed as if making a difficult decision. “I see your rank and clearance are sufficient,”—the SSD raised an eyebrow in surprise—”so I’ll get to the point. I’m after Dr. Joann Tashus, last known to be living in this apartment building.”

  The Director lost a bit of his composure when he heard the name, his eyes widening slightly as he reappraised Reave. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, but Reave did not offer to fill the silence.

  “Well,” the Director finally said, “I’m not sure your records are complete in their description.” Reave stiffened involuntarily, wondering if his cover was insufficient, but the Director continued without noticing. “You are one of what is now three people in this entire operation who know that name. You are apparently working over your allowed clearance level, or your clearance is mis-stated.”

  This could be tricky, Reave thought Is he setting a trap? His mind raced through the possibilities, but he did not have the information to figure out the correct answer. He decided to keep moving ahead.

  “I inserted myself into your command outside of normal channels, so some of the details may not stand up to scrutiny.” Reave knew that half-truths would be most convincing. “I thought your operation would be helpful to me.”

  The SSD snorted derisively, “You were wrong. As you may have gathered, we lost her. Somehow a single civilian, a Kyndra-kissed post-doctorate Biolectrical Engineer no less, was able to outmaneuver a hundred trained soldiers!” His voice had risen through the last sentence, and Reave had to smile at his frustration, especially the way he spat out her academic title.

  “As I said before, I think I can help.”

  “Tell me how.”

  “Take all of your men out and let me have a look. By myself, without interruption.”

  The Director leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk with one fist cupped in the other hand. “Why alone?” he asked quietly, speaking slowly. “I have some very good forensic people and equipment ready to go. Wouldn’t they be of help to you?”

  Reave realized he couldn’t really answer that, so he paused while trying to find a plausible response. His delay felt long inside his head, and he considered killing the Director right here and now. His HUD began scrolling attack and escape options along the side of his vision in response to his mental command.

  “Thirty minutes alone, that’s all I ask. I have sensors specially attuned to her, but with your people trampling all of the useful evidence . . .” he trailed off, hoping he hadn’t pushed too hard.

  The Director rested his chin on his hands and looked at the desktop. After a moment’s thought he looked Reave directly in the eye and said, “You’ll report back to me whatever you find.” He sat up, ramrod straight, and wagged his finger at Reave, “Whatever you find. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir!” Reave said as he left the vehicle.

  He saw soldiers and technicians already streaming out of the exits and moving away from the building. Before he even entered the building, loaded aircraft began departing. He paused before entering and watched the precise withdrawal of forces. They’re efficient, I’ll give 'em that! he thought as he went inside and began hunting his prey.

  The Truebloods had correctly identified which apartment was hers, which narrowed his search considerably. Even so, it took him most of the allotted half hour to find the escape route. He grudgingly admitted that it was expertly done, and he was forced to reevaluate the skills of Dr. Tashus.

  He followed the path down the utility chase, hoping to find a hint of where she might be headed. His senses were attuned to her DNA—he’d told the Director the truth in that case—and he found traces of her blood and other evidence. Once in the basement, piecing together the disappearance was easy. Unfortunately he found nothing to aid in his pursuit, so he decided to report back to the SSD as promised.

  Once back in the command office, he shared some of his knowledge of the subject in trade for the Trueblood intelligence. His contribution to the search effort earned the trust of the SSD, and he asked Reave to remain attached to the Special Investigation team. Reave accepted, although he secured the freedom to act independently if the need arose. The Director seemed slightly suspicious, but agreed nonetheless.

  When they were finished, Reave headed out on his own, confident that he could track Joann, although he wanted to locate some more of her friends first.

  **** ****

  Avelina Baksa swung her legs over the side of her bunk and reluctantly stood up. She stretched her back as best she could in the cramped quarters, and decided it was time to take a shower. The ship’s supply of food and water was running low, but she needed a shower, and she had already resolved to make her decision today. Eleven weeks is too long to be self-indulgent with self-pity, she scolded herself yet again.

  She had been deeply shaken by the violent response from Alexander. Her personal guards, who were also her closest friends, had warned her and tried to dissuade her from the face-to-face meeting, but she didn’t listen.

  She thought about her two friends and their selfless devotion over the decades they had spent at her side. They were always there in the background, unobtrusive, but ever watching, ever faithful.

  They had saved her life more than once, but the meeting with Alexander was the first time she encountered a calculated plot to kidnap or kill her. She wondered again, as she had countless times before, what would cause them to forego lives of their own to follow her, and protect her under all circumstances.

  Conn and Veradisia. They had no family of their own as far as she knew. Perhaps they have each other? It was a thought she’d had before, but never articulated, trying to give them some privacy.

  I call them friends, but I know nothing about them, really. I don’t even know where they came from originally. Assigned by the University—probably by Reverend Trueblood himself—they’ve been with Avelina ever since. They never complain, although they will offer advice. Usually good advice but, Kyndra forgive me, I rarely heed them.

  She stepped into the shower and let the warm water run over her head and body, feeling luxurious. I owe it to them to get us out of here. They had been in hiding since the escape from Alexander almost three months ago. Veradisia, an outstanding pilot, had gotten them out of the Pryke system quickly, tunneling at the earliest possible second, and not bringing them out for four whole days. Now they hid near a large gas giant, in an unnamed system outside the reach of anyone. Rudimentary WERA scans of the system revealed no signs of life, and Conn kept a vigilant watch for anything moving within range. They were able to refuel by skimming off the gas giant atmosphere, but the physical supplies could not be replaced.

  Enough of this. Hiding is not the answer, I need to face the facts and take care of the mess I made in the first place.

  Eleven weeks Avelina had spent agonizing over the facts that she had to face. She was having trouble coming to terms with the fact that the product of the past two decades of her life—her life’s work—was a terrible weapon being used to kill innocent people.

  Avelina now understood that Renard was being prophetic when he named it the Demon program. She also realized that she had deceived herself by refusing to admit it could be misused. I thought Renard would have complete control, that he would use it to protect people, protect our way of life. I envisioned an extension of Kyndra’s benevolence. She paused in her thoughts and shut off the water. Stupid, idealistic f
ool! Am I a child? She had run through this litany of self-reproach many times during the past weeks. I handed an unstoppable weapon of mass destruction to that psychotic murderer Pryke!

  She made her decision. It was the same one she had not wanted to acknowledge on the first day of her self-imposed exile, but she was finally ready to act upon it.

  She would go to Renard and offer her services to help stop the man she had created.

  She wondered how long Conn and Veradisia would have stayed here with her. Would they have taken it upon themselves to return to civilization, or would they have stayed to starvation? She shuddered, and didn’t really want to know the answer.

  **** ****

  Renard Trueblood stood in the window of his office as if admiring the view. His thoughts were not on the fantastic panorama spread before him, however; he was concentrating on the evolving plans to bring an end to the Demon and stop the rise of the Pryke dynasty. These two problems were now completely out of his control, and he could do nothing but hope that Jeffrey’s preparations would be adequate this time.

  Ever since he had been forced to agree to the destruction of his own ally, all of the missions for the Demon had had a definite advantage for the Prykes. Even though the Council made the final decisions, Pryke was somehow inserting his own agenda and creating rationale for missions that should not be happening.

  The latest attack was supposedly targeted on weapons manufacturing, when in fact the factories in question were producing Debar reactors. Only these reactors were not being made by the Burdekins but by a rival company. A company started by, and loyal to, the Truebloods.

  Another crippling blow to another one of my strongest allies. Renard seethed in his impotence. We have got to find his way into the Council’s Intelligence Apparatus.

  Renard’s screen beeped at him from the desk, and he sighed as he turned to check on it. A guard at the base of the Spire had sent a message that there was an unexpected, but cleared, visitor he was positive Renard would like to see. Thinking it must be Jeffrey, Renard wondered why a guard might send notice, but he indicated his acceptance of the visitor nonetheless.

  When the doors opened, he was shocked to see Avelina enter the room. “Kyndra be praised!” He exclaimed as he ran across the room to hug her. Avelina seemed slightly shocked herself at his reaction. He held her out at arm’s length and looked at her. “Where have you been? Are you all right?”

  Avelina was clearly disconcerted by his actions and did not reply right away. “Reverend, I’m . . . I . . .” she tried to speak.

  Realizing her discomfiture, Renard quickly composed himself. “Forgive me, Avelina, but you’ve always been special to me. I still remember the day we pulled you out of school and brought you to the Spire. I’ve been truly worried about you since you disappeared.” He resumed a practiced pose of the Revered Leader of Kyndraism, making both of them feel more comfortable. Then he invited Avelina to sit with him on two of the nearby couches.

  They sat facing each other as Avelina recounted the events from her meeting with Alexander Pryke, her flight, and subsequent disappearance. Before she got into the description of her soul-searching during her self-imposed exile, Renard launched into his prepared plea.

  “Avelina, I realize just how important the Demon project is to you and what it means in term of your many years of dedication. I realize how much you sacrificed over the twenty-some years you devoted to the project in support of the Consensus and Kyndra herself. I understand that what I am about to ask will sound ungrateful and disrespectful, but—”

  “But,” she interrupted before he could continue, “you now want me to destroy it. It has become an unstoppable force in the hands of a madman, and we cannot allow its existence to threaten the very thing it was intended to protect.”

  Renard looked at her with surprise written plainly on his face. “How did you know?”

  “It came to me while meeting with Alexander. At first I assumed that he wanted my help to create his own Demon, but as the conversation progressed I realized he was not asking for any such thing.”

  “What was he asking for?” Renard asked.

  “At first I was confused, since I couldn’t figure out what he wanted. Then it struck me, plain as day. I believe the understanding was given by Kyndra herself.”

  She paused as they made the ritual motion.

  “He wanted to kill me or imprison me so that I could not destroy his single most powerful weapon. The Demon is his key to finally destroying you and taking over the entire Consensus.”

  Avelina stopped and swallowed hard. She put both hands on her cheeks and her eyes became unfocused.

  “For one brief moment I was gifted a vision of the future of our poor Consensus under the brutal tyrannical rule of the Prykes.”

  She looked at Renard, but she wasn’t seeing him. Her eyes had become deep, wide pools of blackness.

  “Reverend, what I saw left me shocked, sickened, and deeply frightened. I did the only thing I could think of. I ran. I’m sorry, I should have come to you, but . . .” Avelina closed her eyes.

  Renard jumped in to soothe her “No, no, you did fine, you did all that could be expected of you in the circumstance. I should have taken you in sooner, it’s my fault. I should have known the danger.”

  She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and continued, “No, I could have been more careful. And,” she sighed, “Kyndra please forgive me, I did not believe the vision. Actually, I did not believe the Demon’s role in the vision. I couldn’t believe it! I poured my heart and soul into that project in order to make the perfect protector of Kyndra’s vision, but instead I created the means to destroy it! I couldn’t accept it. It took me a long time to come to the truth of the matter and separate myself emotionally from the Demon.”

  Renard sat watching her intently, speechless for once. Avelina continued to look down at the floor, her feet, or her hands, apparently unable to look at him. Finally she lifted her face and her eyes were clear.

  “I did more than wallow in self-pity while I was in hiding.” A smile crept onto her face. “I also solved some the problems with another idea I’ve been working on, something that could be bigger and better than the Demon. You wouldn’t be willing to let me use a lab, would you?”

  Renard laughed and said, “I’ll give you everything you want or need, and” he paused to stand and reach out to take her hand, “you’ll be happy to know the entire team is here, working diligently, but in desperate need of your leadership and vision.”

  Avelina took his hand while he spoke and smiled brightly after he finished. She looked as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders as she followed him to the elevator.

  Chapter Ten

  Damon wandered through the market feeling out of place. It wasn’t because he personally felt out of place, but rather because the market felt out of place. It was crammed into a small square inside a large city. There were booths, stall, tables, and kiosks laid out in a haphazard manner that allowed the many patrons to move between them, but it lacked any real organization. Vendors were selling everything from prepared foods to livestock to electronics, one next to the other. The sounds of voices rose above the din touting the virtues of their products, vying against other vendors for shoppers’ attention. There was a faint cloud of dust floating in the air, making it feel like they were out in the country, when in fact the cars, trucks, and other vehicles could be seen zipping along the transportation grid a few blocks away in any direction.

  Over the past year, Damon had learned that huge cities like this one grew on most of the planets in the Consensus. Generally, they developed in an ever-expanding circle, consuming land and resources to feed the growth. Inner portions of the city would age and become rundown while new buildings, parks, and facilities would be added around the perimeter. Slowly but surely, the inner portions fell into disrepair and eventually were abandoned altogether. The homeless, the downtrodden, and those who just wanted to live outside of regular society then b
egan moving into the abandoned buildings, often finding the water and electricity still in working order.

  Damon found it disturbing that he had seen this scene played out in so many different places, and they all reminded him of his own home. He had learned that his home, that place he held so dear in his memories, was not in any way unusual. Rather, it arose from a pattern that persisted throughout the Consensus on innumerable other planets.

  The fact that his home was not unique somehow made him more homesick. The existence of so many other places on other worlds so much like his own did not diminish his home’s value in his memories. He still felt as if something had been taken from him, something irreplaceable, and there was nothing he could do about it. A couple of times he had to catch himself as he subconsciously began to deploy weapons in his agitation. He didn’t want to draw undue attention to himself—at least no more attention than his size and gray skin garnered already.

  Damon thought back to 4C and how the Family coveted the functioning utilities, but now he knew that the facilities were left intact on purpose. City and social planners discovered long ago that leaving the water, sewer, and electricity functioning in the abandoned inner areas was cheaper than trying to implement government programs for all the people living there. The abandoned areas became huge passive welfare systems, intended to keep the poor living in relative comfort while keeping them out of the city proper. This also helped confine the crime to the abandoned sections, rather than in the nice parts of town.

  The people in the Ruins, as they had called it back home, thought they were living ‘outside the system,’ when in fact they were participating in the grand plan. Damon couldn’t believe that he had not realized the truth while he lived in 4C. He didn’t know why it mattered to him, but he couldn’t dispel the dull ache in his heart.

  Damon broke his own reverie by calling up Ken. “What have you got on today’s target?”