The Sons of Sora

by Paul Tassi

  “His comm frequency,” Lucas said. “Can you trace that?”

  “Ordinarily it is not thought to be possible from a singular piece of otherwise meaningless data, but—” Lucas’s heart leapt at the “but.” He knew what came next.

  “But your mother is the foremost comms expert in the galaxy.”

  “Correct,” Theta said. “She is already expecting us at Orbital Relay Station 117. Mercifully, she was not taken along with my father.”

  “Orbital Relay Station 117 is five thousand seven hundred and eighty-two miles from our current location,” the AI added helpfully.

  “Mercy has little to do with it,” Lucas said, ignoring the program and manually changing their destination. If Theta was in orbit, it was unlikely Stoller would bother having her apprehended, particularly when Asha and Alpha were already enough to “motivate” Lucas. Though motivate him to do what remained to be seen. They had badly misjudged the ease with which they believed they could manipulate him. They’d never kill either of them and lose any leverage they had on him.

  They wouldn’t?

  Lucas shoved the doubt from his mind. They couldn’t. And he suspected Alpha and Asha could handle themselves, even in captivity. Both had proven adaptable in similar situations, from Kvaløya to Rhylos. He punched in the coordinates Theta waved over to him from her rear-facing gunner seat, and the fighter made a sharp turn. Theta had already disabled the fighter’s onboard tracking chip, much to the AI’s dismay, meaning no one was following them. Not that they could, given their speed.

  “Great work, Theta,” Lucas said. “Through all of this. Thank you for telling me what had happened to your father and Asha. Who knows how long I might have been tricked into staying at the base, being pumped full of god knows what.”

  “Oh, you are most welcome,” she said from behind him. He could practically hear her blushing. “I did not know who else I could trust.”

  “Why didn’t you tell my sons?” Lucas asked.

  “I was already close to your location when I discovered the truth. I thought time was of the essence.”

  “What made you leave the colony in the first place?” Lucas pressed. “You mentioned some sort of incident? Is everyone alright?”

  “Yes, yes,” Theta said. “I did not mean to concern you. It was just a … misunderstanding with Erik. He … interpreted a pattern of behaviors on my part as indicators of … romantic feelings.”

  That made Lucas raise his eyebrows.

  “He what? He made a pass at you?” Lucas had heard a lot of tall tales about his miscreant son. But this—

  “No. His misinterpretation was that I had such feelings toward him. He was … thoroughly disgusted by even the suggestion of the idea, which I understand entirely. Xalan and human biology would never allow for—”

  “So he was an asshole,” Lucas said, shaking his head. The poor girl. Using science to deflect the simple truth of a harmless crush.

  “Erik has lived with a heavy burden; an entire race looks to him to lead. He has the potential for greatness, to follow the path before him forged by his parents, and now by his brother, who is more man than boy in recent years,” Theta said contemplatively. “Though I fear in consistently lending him my aid for his foolish pursuits, I have only quickened an alternate path to his ruin.”

  She really did care for him. It was touching to hear, and tragic at the same time. From what Lucas knew of his son, Erik had not done much to deserve such loyalty.

  “I also owe you a great debt for looking out for my sons, all these years.” he said. “And for helping bring me home to them.”

  Theta fell silent, uncomfortable with praise.

  “Can I ask you something?” she said hesitantly.

  The fighter whipped past a news beacon orbiter, broadcasting a Stream feed to the planet below.

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Despite my father’s objections, I have studied his decrypted records from the Genetic Science Enclave. There has never been a Shadow specimen to exhibit your unique … influence on others.”

  “Mind control,” Lucas said plainly. He shivered.

  “How do you do it?” she said. “What is it like?”

  “It’s just a thought, sometimes a word. And it hurts,” Lucas said. “The pain can range from a twinge to something indescribable. And afterward, it feels like I’ve chipped off a piece of my soul. Sometimes just a shard, other times a slab. I can feel the hollowness inside me. I can feel it now.”

  “There were so many at the base,” Theta said. “How is such a thing possible?”

  Lucas shook his head.

  “I don’t know. It’s all new to me. It’s … terrifying,” he said honestly. “The strength, the speed—I understand that, or at least I’m starting to. But the rest of it, it’s dangerous, like your father told me. I can see that now.”

  After pausing to consider what he’d said, Theta spoke again.

  “You have something most Shadows do not have,” she said. “You possess friends and family who care for you. Who love you. Hold onto them and you will be able to retain your humanity as your power grows.”

  “Is that in the GSE research you read?” Lucas asked.

  “It is not, yet I prescribe it all the same. You would be wise to listen.”

  That was dangerously close to an order from the pale, timid, teenaged Xalan. For a moment, Lucas forgot his fear and panic, and was comforted by her words.

  The AI jabbered at them for the rest of their flight to Orbital Relay Station 117, one of thousands of hunks of metal orbiting the planet to boost military and civilian communication to distant planets and, more recently, the Xalan colonies. Zeta was stationed with a small team of civilian contractors, whose spines all went stiff with fear as Lucas opened the entry hatch to the relatively cramped outpost. They obviously all recognized him as the famed dead Earthborn, but due to the blackness threading through his skin and clearly unsettled, shockingly iced eyes, none so much as spoke to him. Lucas was past caring about keeping his resurrection a secret, but the team were loyal to Zeta, and she said no one would ever know he was there.

  Zeta could barely fit in the station, which was little more than a few cramped corridors of fiberfoam and pearlsteel, jammed with aging electronics. It didn’t look like it could house anyone comfortably for more than a day or two, which was how long the team had been there. They were trying to extend the comm frequency of the station to interact with others recently set up in deep space, hoping to bounce a strong signal all the way to Earth. A few scattered SDI teams were there, scouring the remains of the Dubai genetics lab and attempting to hunt down more possible hidden Xalan installations on the planet. The giant floating machines transforming the Earth’s ruined atmosphere were left alone to be confiscated and studied at a later date.

  The Archon’s words resounded in Lucas’s head.

  “I work to restore your Earth, so that it can become be another vessel to serve me in the coming purge. Do not fail me, and I may allow you to return to your homeworld someday. To walk among green fields and blue skies.”

  Zeta regarded Lucas with a short bow as the three members of her crew remained wide-eyed and mute.

  “Thank you for bringing my daughter to me,” she said, translator flickering with a light purple hue. “My family is ever in your debt.”

  Lucas shook his head.

  “I’m in yours, but I have to ask one more favor.”

  Zeta nodded.

  “Theta already relayed the frequency to me and I have just completed the trace,” she said. She drew up a spherical data file from a nearby monitor and the hologram disintegrated into thin air as she spread her claws outward.

  “Your craft will now be able to seek out Viceroy Maston’s vessel. The data indicates he is heading somewhere within the local solar system.”

  That was a relief. Lucas didn’t want to spend days or weeks chasing him through a wormhole.

  “We should depart,” Theta said eagerly, moving towa
rd the airlock.

  Lucas and Zeta spoke at the same time.

  “We?”

  “Theta,” Zeta said. “You are in no way going to attempt to aid Lucas with his mission. What you did at Merenes Military Base was dangerous enough, but you will stay here with me until we receive word your father is safe.”

  “But I can assist with the endeavor,” Theta stammered. “I can—”

  “You’ve done so much already, Theta,” Lucas said. “I’ll take it the rest of the way from here. I don’t know what could happen next, both with the SDI or Xala. Or myself, for that matter, in my current state. I have to do this alone. Your father would never forgive me if I purposefully put you in harm’s way.”

  Theta was sullen, but nodded.

  “I have tasted adventure on Earth, and I will admit, it was not to my liking,” she said. “But I would never forgive myself if I could have done something more to save my father, and did not.”

  “You’ve done more than you know,” Lucas said, putting his hand on her shoulder and staring into her watery golden eyes. “I’ll bring him back to you, I promise. Get to a safe place on the ground and let me know where you are. The colony, maybe?”

  “We shall.”

  Lucas nodded to Zeta and the frozen crew members and turned to leave.

  “Remember what I said, Lucas,” Theta called after him. “Remember who you have, even when you are alone.”

  He would.

  Sora was a pale blue dot as Lucas raced toward the gargantuan sun. The tint of his viewscreen had darkened substantially to allow him to keep pressing forward toward the Viceroy’s location, and the star now looked like little more than a muddy brown orb with bright cracks of flame poking out of it.

  The prototype fighter was three times faster than anything in its weight class, and twenty times quicker than traditional cruisers in open space, facts and figures offered up unprompted by the AI, which relayed the information with a tone approaching pride. The perils of a self-aware ship, he supposed.

  Lucas checked his readouts and found that he was gaining on the Viceroy’s craft. Maston’s intended destination was still unclear, but Lucas was certain the man would never reach it.

  Lucas still felt off-kilter after the escape from the military base where hundreds of slack-jawed soldiers had let him pass with ease. The pain had ceased, but it was like a void had opened up inside him. He told himself it was just concern for Asha and Alpha, but he was worried it was something more.

  He almost jumped out of his skin when a voice spoke from behind him.

  “The irony,” it said. It was low and full of gravel, not the smooth, feminine voice of the AI. “The Shadow killer becomes the thing he fears most.”

  The voice was coming from the gunner’s seat behind him. Lucas twisted and turned violently against his restraints, but the rear-facing seat was out of his view.

  “So you know now. What the power feels like.”

  He knew that voice. He’d never forget it.

  Omicron.

  It was impossible. Lucas flipped up a display of the rear of the cockpit, showing him the gunner’s chair. Piercing blue eyes glinted at him, inset in a face of pure black. Lucas’s flesh crawled and his chest tightened painfully.

  It’s just a hallucination. It’s probably a side effect of conversion.

  “Nothing to say, human?” Omicron purred. “Pity, our last conversation was painfully short.”

  “You’re not here,” Lucas spat out. “And I have bigger things to worry about.”

  “Bigger things?” Omicron scoffed, waving his claw in the inlaid viewscreen feed. “You race to rescue two souls when the fate of your entire species hangs in the balance? You embarrass the Shadow name. Our very purpose.”

  “I am not one of you!” Lucas said loudly, checking to make sure the oxygen levels were still normal in the ship. If they weren’t that could explain what was happening.

  “Not yet,” Omicron said. “But you have tasted our power. And now you drink from it like a man dying of thirst.”

  “I want to be rid of it!” Lucas cried.

  “You do not,” Omicron replied coolly. “Though you waste your time thinking otherwise. You squander your potential with this menial task. If you were wise, you would be using your gifts to slaughter your enemies in battle.”

  “Like you?” Lucas said. “Look where you ended up.”

  “Dead, yes, but having lived as one of the finest warriors the galaxy has ever known. I conquered worlds. I brought savage civilizations to their knees.” Lucas could hear the fierce pride in his voice. “I regret nothing.”

  “Get out of my head,” Lucas said. “I’ve had enough delusions to last me a lifetime.”

  “You think this a delusion,” Omicron said, his voice amused. “Of course you would.”

  “What do you mean?” Lucas asked cautiously.

  “It seems you have reached an advanced enough stage in conversion to breach the Circle.”

  “The Circle?” Lucas asked.

  “All Shadows are linked psionically to their creator, the Archon, and therefore tethered to each other as well.”

  Lucas blinked, trying to process that.

  “But you’re dead.”

  “Death eliminates the body, not consciousness. Not for us Shadows, anyway. We all live on through him.”

  “Through the Archon.”

  “Indeed. It is through him I have found my son again, at last. A welcome gift after centuries of devoted service to his cause. Though I did not know the truth until after my demise.”

  The Desecrator. Lucas shuddered even thinking about the monster that was Omicron’s mutated offspring.

  “What is the Archon?” Lucas pressed.

  “He is Xala, and we are him. By design.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You will learn, in time.”

  Lucas fell silent before his racing mind formed another question.

  “The Other. The Black Corsair. Is he in the Circle?”

  Omicron nodded in the viewscreen window.

  “Yes, but that one is … disturbed. You will not find him if you seek him. He is the Archon’s unchained beast, a hound chasing after prey he will never catch.”

  “I don’t want to seek any of you,” Lucas said, pressing his hands to his temples. “I don’t want to be in this Circle.”

  “You dishonor it with your presence. But many here are in awe of your power. It is like nothing that has come before. The Archon believes you humans of Earth are the next stage. Some mutation allows you this influence on the mind. Personally, it sickens me. A warrior should need nothing but his claws to tear nations asunder. As I did. As my son would have, had you not ended his life.”

  Lucas was dizzy. Was this real? Was this some sort of fever dream? His vital readouts were being monitored by the ship and oddly said all was well, but he couldn’t believe it. They’d drugged him at the base. Something. Anything.

  “Continue your tedious fool’s quest,” Omicron said, looking out the viewscreen to the stars around them. “Find your lost souls, and then force them to witness the devastation you will bring your race.”

  And then, he was gone.

  It took Lucas a solid half hour to even remember where he was, or what he was doing. He jerked back into focus at the sight of a dull red planet and saw blue engine lights floating up ahead. His readouts were flashing, the AI telling him he’d caught up with his target.

  Pull it together, he thought. Think of Asha.

  He blinked and pushed the ghostly Omicron’s words from his mind. His viewscreen highlighted the Viceroy’s dreadnought, and the six fighters flanking him. An escort bristling with firepower.

  This isn’t going to be easy.

  23

  Solarion Security headquarters was on the very highest section of the station, level zero, meaning nothing was above them except the barely visible dome that kept them all breathing. From there they could see the top half of Apollica and one of its br
ight, rocky moons, the name of which Noah couldn’t recall, though it had likely been a question on a solar geography test at some point in his colony education. Theta would know. He was glad she wasn’t here, that she hadn’t gotten caught up in this newest dangerous scheme.

  Most SolSec guards wore the double-slitted helmets they’d seen on Keeper Auran’s tearful good-bye broadcast, but some of the men and women went without them. At a casual glance, the lot of them did look like something resembling an actual security force. On closer inspection, something was … off. Their armor was a little too tarnished. Their boots a little too bloodied. Tattoos crept up the necks of the helmetless. The walls of the SolSec compound were thick with fresh paint, halfhearted attempts to cover up graffiti. Their headquarters was in far better shape than anything else they’d seen on Solarion, but still in a state of disrepair compared to official military bases or security HQs on Sora. There was no order to the troops inside. They laughed and joked and cursed and fought like all the other gangs they’d seen. They simply had the best armor, the best weapons, and a fortress that literally kept them on top of their little world.

  Noah’s cuffs were starting to itch.

  He marched with his hands clasped behind his back. Next to Erik. Next to Sakai. All three of them were restrained. Following behind them were Tannon and his three soldiers, along with Kyra, Zaela, and her man Razor, all unbound and prodding them forward with rusty energy rifles. The masked Tannon had Noah’s darksteel warhammer slung across his back and Erik’s laser pistol on his hip. The SolSec soldiers stopped in their tracks to stare at the strange procession.

  The plan was insane, so it was naturally something Erik had concocted. The biggest shock was that Tannon had not only listened, but filled in the blanks to make it work. Well, it hadn’t worked yet. Not by a mile.

  Their faceless SolSec escort led them to a towering building with most of its front-facing windows blown out. There was an inscription on the metal as they entered, but it was in Ba’siri and Noah couldn’t read it. He had a deepening sense of foreboding as the massive metal doors shut behind them.

  The main lobby of the building had likely been just that, a lobby, at some point in the distant past, but now it had been transformed into something vaguely resembling a throne room. What once was a stone fountain in the middle of the sprawling space was now bone dry, and a central tower now had a metal staircase in front of it that lead up to a platform where a group of men surrounded another figure sitting in a wide chair.