Gregaor figured he was in too deep now to back out. As much as he disliked it, he had no other choice but to put his family first before his feelings for Da’Mira. “This operation is now under control of the family Xavier.”
“I don’t think you have authority in your present state to give anyone commands,” Da’Mira pointed at two of the expedition members. “Weapons out – secure Lord Xavier and his brother. No harm is to come to them,” she ordered. “Wait,” she held up her hand. “This is Charles Long, my chief archeologist. You owe him an apology for striking him.”
Gregaor’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t call that a strike. It was more of a shove,” he said.
Charles stepped forward, cleared his throat and reached for the casket. “Since you’re not as in charge as you think you are, I’ll be taking that from you, and consider it no hard feelings,” he said and pulled the box away from Gregaor.
Da’Mira grabbed it out of Charles’ hands. “Professor you’ve been babying this box since we left Earth. I’m sure you think it’s important, but, until we figure it out, I’ll keep hold of it.”
Gregaor watched Da’Mira swagger off with the casket. His eyes fixed on her and the box. It wasn’t so much his interest in the cask that was important to him, but what it represented. He intended on claiming this planet. The family Xavier would prosper with a dig of this importance. Of what little he saw of the temple, he realized the family that controlled this planet, could control Earth.
The Watchtower – High Earth Orbit
ORACLE Mainframe
May 6, 2442
The white noise of the ORACLE mainframe hummed throughout the lower deck of the watchtower. An entire level devoted to the computer system that scanned, reported, scrutinized and subjugated three quarters of the Earth’s population, while reporting the activities of the other twenty-five percent behind their backs. Even those closest to the Lexor family were kept in the dark of their illegal activities. Over the three hundred years since the ascension into orbit no one could answer the simplest question. Who watches the watchers?
In the darkest part of the deck, among yottabytes of hard drive space, a single holographic screen beamed three words: Iris Lexor backup. The accumulated knowledge stored after the death of the Lady Iris Lexor pulsated through the gel circuitry. Connected by woven nano-chips of endless failsafe systems, securing her identity footprint, and accumulated knowledge of one hundred and thirty years.
Stored in a sleep mode for a month, the system seemed destined to remain inactive until… “Hello – is there anyone there.” Iris Lexor’s crackling aged voice beamed out of a single speaker in monotone. She tried to take a deep breath but couldn’t. Panic consumed her.
Frightened she said in a timid hiss, “I… I don’t know what is happening.” A flush of memories over took her – ideas and secret plans formulated throughout her memory banks. Iris fell silent calculating her thoughts and pulling files out of her memories.
A swarthy laughter resonated from her speaker and she said in a nefarious whisper, “It worked, it worked.”
“Lady Iris?” Ragan Odak called out when she entered the area.
“Yes, I am here, Doctor Odak,” Iris replied.
Ragan stood in front of the screen that still said: Iris Lexor backup. “Can you see me?” she asked.
“I saw you the moment you stepped on the deck, doctor. Already my sensors are stretching further and further away.” With every word, Iris’ weak ethereal voice became a stronger synthesized one. “I have accessed the ORACLE mainframe and soon I’ll see everything – in total control of the Earths watcheye systems.”
“Don’t overdo yourself, Milady. We don’t understand your limitations,” Regan warned.
Iris chortled and said in an even stronger voice, “We planned this moment for a long time, doctor. I know my limits. But –” Iris fell silent.
“Milady?” Ragan said in a concerned voice and she stepped toward the computer outlet.
“What has been happening since I’ve slept,” Iris asked in a hardened tone, though she already had the answer. She scanned the watchtower ORACLE logs and in vivid detail she learned what her son had been up to. “I’ve worked vehemently over the years to strengthen the Lexor and Orlander families and in less than a month my son has worked to tear that apart. The Tannadors should have been low-born by now… they are the only thing that stands in our way.”
Ragan backed up from the console, and said, “He’s… he’s ceased all aggression between the Orlanders and the Tannadors. He –”
“I can see that,” Iris barked. Her computer voice now more refined. “I’m not blind… in fact I’ve never seen more clearly. If I would have been there, the Tannadors would be defeated.” Iris fumed.
Down from the ceiling, a long polymer cord descended draping behind Ragan Odak. Rigid it moved like a snake preparing to pounce.
“As it is, our hands are tied, Milady,” Ragan said, unaware of the movement behind her. “If we had more time to prepare we could…”
“It’s time to meet with my son – show him that his mother knows what’s good for the Lexor family.”
“Is that wise, Milady? At this point you’re so vulnerable. He might –”
“Like I said dear doctor I’m aware of my limits.”
The polymer cord struck, snagging Ragan around the neck, coiling around the rest of her body like a serpent. She fought the attack - failed.
“There isn’t time to explain or persuade anyone to join me at this point, Doctor Odak,” Iris said as she controlled the cord around Ragan’s body. “Every moment counts... the plan in motion.”
The polymer cord pulled Ragan toward the console where a sharp cranial probe protruded out of its casing. The doctor’s eyes widened and still she struggled to get out of the lines grip. It turned her around and exposed the back of her neck.
“Pain is the last of your worries I assure you, Doctor Odak. In a few minutes your life will no longer be your own… for you will no longer have control of your body. That will be my pleasure. It might interest you to learn how it will feel being aware of everything around you, but not in control. A living hell, I’m sure.”
Regan screamed when lowered down to the panel, the sharp implement pushed into the back of her neck. Blood sprayed across the terminal and the back of the apparatus folded down over her outer neck, locking into place. The embedded part of the device lodged itself into her brainstem. The polymer cord released her, and Ragan buckled to her knees. Her honey hair tinted in wet amber and lay matted to her neck.
“You’re the first walking, talking version of ORACLE,” Iris said, adding, “How does it feel?”
The Watchtower – High Earth Orbit
The Private Chambers of the Family Lexor
May 6, 2442
The lift opened on the top floor of the Watchtower. The water from Iris’ artificial waterfall splashed and bubbled when Doctor Odak stepped off the elevator. Now under the control of the Iris Lexor’s ORACLE system, the young woman’s thoughts were no longer her own. The living room, surrounded by shadows and dim light looked cluttered and in disarray, as though Avery had been throwing a party. Paintings hung askew on the wall, cushions torn from the furniture and empty wine glasses lay shattered on the floor.
Familiar with the layout of the apartment, Ragan moved to the liquor cabinet and poured herself a tall glass of sherry. The crisp, dry, nutty flavor washed down her throat. It had been sixty years since Iris enjoyed its bouquet. Even now Iris felt jilted, unsure if she completely registered the flavor as it was meant to be. Was she and Ragan Odak one being now? Did Iris share the young doctor’s senses? She might never know. She poured herself another glass.
“By all means, Doctor Odak help yourself to my alcohol. While you’re at it help yourself to some of my dead mother’s jewelry,” Avery entered the living room. He wore a pair of boxers and an unbuttoned tangerine shirt.
Ragan said nothing, her indigo eyes, pasty and lifeless. Iris found it
hard to see through them. Even though she controlled the doctor, Iris couldn’t prevent Ragan from having emotions. Tears slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away.
“Are you all right, Doctor Odak?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” Iris replied, though she fought the urge to cry. She walked away from the liquor cabinet and crossed in front of a set of track lighting embedded in the ceiling.
“Is that blood at the back of your neck?” Avery asked. He became defensive and rigid.
Ragan stopped and smiled. “You’ve been having a party it seems,” she said ignoring Avery’s question.
“Just a few friends over to celebrate my new family position,” Avery said with a thin smile.
“How much did you have to pay them, Milord,” Iris said.
“Pay them?”
“Everyone knows you compensate people to be your friends.”
Avery’s forehead reddened. His voice turned dark, and said, “I think you should leave doctor before I have you arrested. I appreciate your diligent work treating my mother, but your services are no longer needed.”
Iris rushed forward, pressing her lips against Avery’s. Their tongues intertwined, hardness inside Avery’s boxers pressed against her.
“Why Ragan I never thought you’d…”
Iris hushed Avery with her index finger to his lips. She shoved him to the floor and jumped on top of him.
Avery roared with laughter, and he said aroused, “You should come raid my alcohol cabinet more often, Doctor Odak.”
Iris rolled Avery over to his stomach.
“I’m uncertain what you’re up to Ragan, but I’m always game for some adventure.”
“Then you will enjoy this,” Iris said taking a speared cranial probe from out of her back pocket. Holding it in her hands she drove it down into the back of Avery’s neck, shoving it deep.
Avery reeled, screamed and threw Doctor Odak’s petite body off him. He stood and reached for the cranial probe – trying to pull it out, but it was imbedded too far into his neck. “What have you done?” he screamed. The intense pain too much for him, he fell to his knees, digging at the probe, swearing profanities.
“Relax son… soon the pain will subside,” Iris said looming over him.
Avery stared into Odak’s eyes, and said in a hushed breath, “Mother?”
“Yes, you see me now don’t you son… you never in your wildest dreams believed you’d face me again, did you. What a pity you won’t get that wish.”
Avery’s face went slack and emotionless. He stood up and faced Ragan – Iris now in total control of his faculties. “How odd is this?” he said with a feminine lilt in his voice. He and the doctor smiled at one another sharing a quiet moment.
“Yes, two aspects in living form. It differs from being a bodyless brain in the ORACLE mainframe isn’t it?” Ragan asked.
Avery smiled, said, “It’s boarding on an Oedipus complex if I didn’t know better.”
Ragan returned his cold smile. She brushed a tear from her eye. “This one is an emotional wreck. But she’ll settle in, or she might take a spacewalk to end it all.”
Avery frowned and said, “Poor Doctor Odak, I didn’t know she was so distraught over my mother’s death.”
Avery and Ragan shared in a sadistic laugh.
Iris’ plan was proceeding – soon everyone would be under the ORACLE’s control, and Iris controlled ORACLE.
Tannador House – High Earth Orbit
The Private Chambers of Hek’Dara Tannador
May 6, 2442
Hek’Dara felt his age more than ever. He never considered himself old, nor did he feel like a man at sixty-nine, which in many circumstances wasn’t considered elderly. At the time of her death, Iris Lexor was over one hundred and thirty years old. Her son, Avery celebrated his seventieth birthday earlier in the year and he still acted like a man in his forties. Even Hek’Dara’s father, Hastings Tannador, lived to be well over one hundred, though no one, including his father, knew his real age. It wasn’t the years that wore him down, but Hek’Dara’s sudden awakening.
The recent events whittled at him, tearing down his resolve. For the first time in his life Hek’Dara allowed himself to acknowledge the immoral practices initiated by the high-born on the human race.
Hek’Dara grew up being tutored and prepared for his eventual ascension as head patriarch to House Tannador. He refused to open his eyes and witnessed the mistreating of slaves around him. He lied to himself for years, ignored the wrongdoings and injustice to humanity. Over the years his ignorance became blindsided by his duty to family and to the Union.
Hek’Dara sat alone in his private chamber with his back to the wall. The glow from the Earth shone through the window and provided the only light in the room. A glass of brandy sat on the desk in front of him, watered down by the melted ice cubes. The condensation on the glass leaked out onto the imitation wood finish and left a ring on the smooth varnish.
He held in his hand the black stone he got from Oliver Duncan. He remembered the message given to him from Moyah Everhart. Trust no one, rung in his years, but he had to trust someone. His newfound patriot Martin, who stood by his side for only a short time, became a reliable trusted aide. Hek’Dara had to trust him. Who else was there? Not his son Quinton, who he whisked away to Tannador House the moment trouble, began. His son wasn’t an adventurer. He proved that during his time away on Requiem. His productivity since he became master of the family expedition ship was the lowest in ten years. He loved Quinton. Sometimes he thought he loved him more than he loved Da’Mira. That was before he opened his eyes to the things he chose to overlook. Now he feared he would never have the chance to tell Da’Mira how wrong he had been.
He turned the black crystal in his hand and stared into its perfect color. He ran his chunky fingers over the contours. The stone felt like it had some hidden energy inside.
Trust no one – then how can I trust the Highlander?
Lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear the door chime until its second ring. Hek’Dara waved his hand over the light sensor and the room brightened. He straightened his posture, gave his gold and purple tunic a tug and said, “Come in.”
Carmela Anders stepped into the room. She had been living on Tannador House since the Orlander conflict began. Hek’Dara wondered why she remained. After two weeks since the hostilities died down she could have returned home. He admitted to no one but himself that he enjoyed having the ginger-haired woman near him, which he considered funny since he hadn’t confided in her. He wanted to, but he couldn’t forget the note.
Carmela wore a long pink sundress that conformed to her shape and a modest pair of sandals. Even after three hundred years she couldn’t deny her Cyprus heritage. “You’ve been distant,” she said after a few moments of silence.
“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” Hek’Dara replied. His voice filled with half-truths.
Carmela took a step toward Hek’Dara, and said, “I thought we were allies. We need to trust each other if we want to get through this. You know the Orlanders won’t stop coming for us, we bruised Havashaw’s pride. Sooner or later, he will seek reprisals. And what about Avery… surely you don’t trust him?”
Hek’Dara stood. A heavy weight pressed on his chest, but he pushed the pain aside. He trusted Avery Lexor less than Iris, and he said, “No, I don’t trust him… and you’re right – I have been distant, with good reason.”
Carmela waited with her arms folded in front of her.
“I’m trying to protect Da’Mira, I wish I could tell you more, but to tell you the truth I don’t know any more.”
“You’ve been acting queer since you read that note from Moyah Everhart. There was something important in it, wasn’t there?”
“Yes –” Hek’Dara figured lying about it wouldn’t help matters. He required Carmela and her army, even if he felt Carmela was holding something from him. But if he wanted to protect his shipping facilities and give a strong opposition to the Orlander’s se
curity force, he needed her. Hek’Dara wanted Carmela to trust him, considering he harbored emotional feelings for her. They came out of nowhere and he couldn’t deny them. “I don’t know how to explain this. Lady Everhart knows something about Da’Mira – somehow she knows my daughter is in danger and I have to… ah hell I have no idea what is going on.”
Carmela’s lips curled up into a smile, and she said confidently, “When it comes to Moyah Everhart I’m not surprised. Tell me what you know.”
Hek’Dara revealed his story as Carmela listened intently, moving closer and closer to him with each passing moment. “And the note said trust no one.”
“You have every right to keep this to yourself, Hek’Dara… I would, maybe, if it involved someone I loved. The truth is we need to trust each other. If we don’t then we’ve lost everything,” Carmela said placing her arms around Hek’Dara.
His chest tightened. It’d been a lot of years since someone touched him in such a way. Hek’Dara moved his arms around Carmela and they embraced. It seemed second nature to kiss and when they did it seemed natural.
When their lips parted, Hek’Dara said without hesitation, “You understand protecting the packing plants is of the utmost importance, are you up to the task while I am away?”
Carmela gave him a warm carefree smile. She held the palm of her right hand on his chest. “I will see to the operations myself.”
“I don’t want you to put yourself in danger,” Hek’Dara said.
“We’ve both been in danger since this began,” Carmela answered with a grim smile.
Hek’Dara tightened his eyes with concern and held them on her. “The Lexors and Orlanders will move against us again. Avery is a conniving bastard. Ruthless and cold hearted.”
“I’ll be ready. Trust me,” Carmela said and moved her hands up to Hek’Dara’s face. She stroked his coarse, thick beard.
Origin Expedition Page 32
