Awakened

by Ell Leigh Clarke

  They’d spent most of the next day unloading the ship and doing a supply run to the nearest center of civilization. Now they were mostly just tired out, and still acclimatizing.

  “Hey, come check out this cool insignia!” Paige called into the common area, where the team was sitting around vegetating.

  Her eyes danced with enthusiasm. Crash and Joel were the only ones even mildly curious.

  “Come on! You’re not going to believe this!” she insisted.

  Crash, having nothing more pressing to do, wandered over to the corridor where Paige had appeared. Joel followed with his beer. Garet glanced up from his holo but stayed put.

  “What is it?” asked Joel.

  “You’ll see. Come…” Paige was already halfway down the corridor. The first night they hadn’t had a chance to do much exploring. Mostly they had found their quarters and designated rooms so they could unload some of the stuff they had on the ship.

  Paige led them through a set of double doors, and then through another door off the second corridor.

  “Paige, this is starting to feel very serial-killer of you!” joked Joel as they traipsed after her.

  “Come on!” she giggled.

  “I’m getting a feeling we should call her ‘Alice,’” commented Crash.

  Joel looked at him, as they walked briskly to keep up with her. “Alice?”

  “As in leading us down a rabbit hole.” Crash explained.

  Joel laughed, remembering the old human stories about a little girl in Wonderland. That story, for whatever reason, resonated with Sarkians.

  Eventually the second corridor ended in another set of doors, through which they stepped through into an opening like an elevator lobby with no elevators, but with two more corridors running off it in other directions.

  Paige stood and faced the wall on the left side.

  “Check it out!” She pointed at the blank whitewashed wall.

  Joel and Crash looked at each other in confusion.

  “Seriously…look closely,” she instructed them.

  Joel stepped closer, and then he saw it. “What do you think it is?”

  “I don’t know, but it looks military. And badass.” Crash answered.

  “Yeah, military is right. Can you make out the words around it?”

  Paige had edged up closer and was trying to read the writing, even though it was just a shadow that had been painted over several times. It was an insignia of some kind, like a crest or a badge.

  “It’s not in a language I recognize,” she admitted.

  Crash stepped closer. “Let me try”. He squinted, and then took a step back. “That first letter for both words looks like an ‘A’…then those are…. Hmm, I’m not sure. I think this might be that old language from the Pan galaxy that humans brought with them.”

  “What, laten?” asked Paige, having heard something about it in a mythology class at school.

  “Yeah, Latin,” Crash confirmed.

  Paige and Joel looked at him, waiting for an explanation of how he could know something like this.

  “Misspent youth studying secret military groups,” he confided. Then, feeling the pressure of their gaze, he left to retrieve a beer for himself from the kitchen.

  “Secret military groups?” Paige now turned her quizzical look onto Joel.

  “Well, speaking of misspent youths, you might wanna mention this to Ms. Bates.”

  Joel took another swig of beer and then wandered away again, leaving Paige staring at the weird alien insignia and wondering how the hell it ended up on the wall of a hick little theater in the middle of nowhere.

  Two weeks later. Downtown Spire. Undisclosed private club bar

  Andus was watching the holoscreen from a booth in one of his favorite gentlebeings’ clubs. There was a news report about the events leading to the incident where Senate Official Dewitt had been found assassinated in his home. Apparently the police were holding two Health Corp executives for questioning, probably on the working theory that someone had wanted to either punish Dewitt or had tried to silence the one person who could corroborate the intel that had already hit every media channel this side of the asteroid belt.

  “Bloody nuisance,” spat Andus, fiddling with the stem of his martini glass and throwing a pistachio shell against the seat opposite him.

  Jessica appeared at his shoulder. “Now, now, Mr. Andus. That kind of behavior isn’t fitting for a man of power and influence.”

  She smiled seductively and slipped into the booth next to him. Retrieving the shell, she placed it on the black marble table between them and signaled to their usual waiter to bring them two more drinks.

  “I haven’t got long. Something has come up and I’ve had to call an emergency board meeting.”

  “It’s seven o’clock at night!” exclaimed Andus.

  “Yes. And my meeting is at nine. Gives them a chance to get the intel I need to make some decisions on this other clusterfuck I’m going to have to clean up.”

  “I’m glad I don’t work for you. You’re a worse slave driver than I ever was,” he admitted.

  “I don’t know. You do a pretty good job of keeping us Syndicate members on our toes.” she said, deliberately stroking his ego.

  “Speaking of clusterfucks,” he indicated at the holo screen in the bar, “they’re making this kid out to be a bloody hero. They’re praising his fucking ancestors and describing it like he had orchestrated some big operation.”

  “Yes, but we know better. And at some point being in the know may well pay off. As a policy, it works.” She slipped off her faux fur stole and let it drop into the seat around her. Within moments a waiter was with them, offering to hang it up.

  “No, thank you. I’ll keep it. It may get chilly in here in a moment.” She glanced sideways at Andus, and the waiter understood everything he needed to know. He backed away and left them to it.

  Andus ignored the byplay. “Any news on my replacement? You promised me a replacement.”

  “I told you. My ancestors said three weeks.” It was just like Andus—and heck, anyone else she enlightened—to blame her if things weren’t going according to their plan. “Within three weeks. We’re still only two weeks in, remember?”

  Andus grumped.

  Just then, their drinks arrived.

  “Give it time,” Jessica advised. “Let go of needing to control every damn thing, and just allow it to flow. You don’t need to agitate things.” She took a sip from her martini and glanced up at the holoscreen he had been watching. Garet’s face was full screen, with the words “Whistleblower” in the caption.

  “Give it time,” she repeated absentmindedly.

  Gaitune-67, Safe house

  “Yo, Molly!”

  Paige poked her head into the conference room. Well, they’d started calling it the conference room, but really it was just a room that they’d managed to procure desks and chairs for. It was also where Molly ended up doing most of her work.

  Molly finished her line of code and looked up. Her face brightened when she looked at Paige’s smiling face.

  “Hey, what’s up?” She leaned back in her chair, disengaging from the room’s holo screen.

  “My nails. My nails are so bad. And I didn’t think to bring any color with me when we were at the store before jumping off-world. You got any?”

  Molly blinked at her, her face expressionless.

  Paige waited. Her smile faded, as she watched Molly trying to compute what she had just asked her for. “You mean that polish stuff that you girls were gabbing about that time when I was compelled to listen to your conversations for the whole morning?”

  “Yes, nail polish,” Paige smiled brightly, trying again. “I could do with something red and bright.” She growled playfully, making a clawing motion with her right hand.

  “Yes. Fifteen minutes talking about red. I remember. Fifteen minutes of my life I will never get back,” Molly complained.

  “I can’t believe you don’t have any!” excl
aimed Paige somewhat incredulously.

  Molly was having trouble with explaining herself. “Paige, I’m ex-military. The closest we came to having red nails would have been if we were ever captured and tortured or if one of our teammates was bleeding out and we needed to clamp down on the wound. I do not paint, manicure, or do any such thing, to my nails.”

  She kept her face straight in dry humor.

  Paige erupted into giggles, nearly falling off her high heels as she grabbed for the door, which moved when she tried to steady herself. Molly couldn’t believe that this girl had even brought high heels with her off-world to a safe house.

  Molly couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out laughing as well.

  “Okay, but someone has to have some!” exclaimed Paige as she tried to catch her breath.

  “You’re on a military base in the ass end of nowhere, hundreds of thousands of kilometers from any significantly sized civilization, and you think you’re going to find nail polish?” Molly was still grinning, but then she had an idea. “Maybe try Brock?”

  Paige paused. “He’s only got clear. Never mind, I thought I’d try you, just in case.” She turned and left the doorway. “But now I see my error!” she called back, as she sauntered away.

  “Watch it, missy.” Molly called after her, giggling to herself and trying to refocus on the code she was writing. She still had to go through the endless list of shit to approve for Crash’s and Brock’s workshop.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Gaitune-67, Safe house, Conference Room

  Garet was watching a download of the news reports they had delivered to the server each day. Noticing himself in the text of a bulletin, he clicked through to watch the full report.

  “Looks like someone is still making headlines.” Paige was leaning against the doorframe in what was fast becoming their mission control.

  She walked over to the desks set up like a conference table and sat next to Garet as he watched the in-room holoscreen playing the video footage.

  Garet pointed to the video with his chin. “You know, after everything we’ve learned about this situation and the Syndicate, I’ll bet that we’re pretty uniquely positioned to do something about the shit they’re pulling. I mean, who else knows about this? Not very many people, I’ll bet.”

  “Yeah, because they kill anyone who finds out.” Paige commented darkly. She wasn’t about to forget what she went through any time soon.

  “Yeah, but think about it,” Garet continued, almost as if he were just talking out loud to himself. “If I go back and do a job like what I was doing in Dewitt’s office, even in another sector, knowing what I know now I could be tactical about which bills we block and which things we rally support for. I bet I could spot the language in the proposals that would tell us it was a Syndicate move before it ever went to a vote. Never mind waiting years for them to invoke clauses.”

  “What makes you think that?” Paige was frowning, concerned at where this was going.

  “Oh, I got curious about how they’ve been doing this, and I started digging around. Molly authorized the downloads to make sure we weren’t tripping any red flags,” he added quickly, noticing the look of concern on Paige’s face. “Most of what I needed to see was public record anyway. It’s all in the fine detail of the language of the bills themselves. They hide what they’re really trying to do in lawyer-speak and footnotes.”

  Paige shook her head. “I’m worried you’re already into something that is going to get you in trouble again.”

  “I know,” he answered. Paige’s hands were folded in her lap, and he placed his hand over hers as he spoke. Paige resisted the urge to pull away. “And I appreciate that. But I can’t just sit by and watch these rats screw all these people over just to line their own pockets and enhance their own egos.”

  Paige had heard this argument before. She agreed in principle. “But does it have to be your own safety versus doing something about it? Is there a way to tackle this without getting yourself killed?”

  “Well, I’m not dead yet.”

  “Only because of Molly and Joel. And it sounds like you’re talking about going back?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it. But we’re kinda waiting for the all-clear from Molly. She’s monitoring some security thing, and the chatter. She said she’d let me know.”

  Crash poked his head around the door. “Hey, we’re all sitting down to watch a movie. Joel’s got pizza in the oven. You going to join us?” They’d heard his boots approaching, but neither had turned to look.

  “Yes, of course. You’ll never hear me say no to pizza!” Garet grinned back at him, breaking the intense moment of discussion, and stood up to leave.

  Paige looked uneasy, feeling that this conversation had been ended prematurely.

  “Okay,” she said. “Pizza time.” The two left the conference room with a niggling feeling that things were about to change for both of them.

  ---

  Molly and Joel were in the kitchen. Molly carefully lifted a stack of plates out of a cupboard and placed them on the table.

  “You know, Oz has been monitoring the data feeds of what people are downloading from the Central Systems.”

  Joel grabbed the roll of paper towels and paused, waiting for what was coming next. “Yes?”

  “Well, it seems Garet has been downloading news reports about what’s going on in Spire. He’s looking at industry reactions and political discussions.”

  Joel exhaled noticeably. Molly noticed his shoulders relax as he started ripping the paper towels off the roll, but was too distracted by what she was trying to talk to him about to question it.

  “I think he’s planning on going to Spire. I bet he wants back into the game.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. “The game that nearly got him killed?”

  Molly shook her head and raised her eyes to the heavens.

  Joel finished tearing off paper towels for everyone and started setting them out at their places. Molly followed suit with the plates.

  “Thing is, trying to stop him would be like trying to stop you on this mission.”

  She knew that. “Yes, but still…how will we know when it is safe?”

  There has been no further chatter or nor have any hits been issued for Garet on any of the channels I’m monitoring.

  “I don’t know if there truly is a way to tell. I mean, if he’s still hot, there will be searches and contracts out on him. But just him showing up might trigger some cascade. Especially if he’s publicly going back into that field. I mean, his name and job title will be a matter of public record again.”

  Molly paused for a moment, thinking. “I don’t think we’re going to have a choice. If it turns out they want to go back, we’re going to have to take them.”

  Joel scratched his chin. “Well, if we do that, we should stay for a while and make sure everything is going to be okay. You know, get them settled.”

  “How long?” Molly asked, placing the last plate down and moving over to the boxes of pizza on the counter.

  “A few days, I would think.”