Fatal Accord

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Fatal Accord Page 6

by Trevor Scott


  “What was in that syringe?” Saturn asked, her voice muffled by her breathing apparatus.

  The elder didn’t turn his attention away from his patient, but said casually, “With any luck, something that will help turn the tide.”

  Nix leaned toward her and said quietly so that Saturn had to listen closely to hear, “The Phage Sickness is neither bacteria nor virus alone. It is a virus that infects bacteria. It’s using the bacteria in Liam’s own body against him.”

  “How is it stopped?”

  “It is like a fire. As long as there is oxygen it will burn. The Phage changes the structure of the bacteria, warping them from something relatively benign into something deadly. To stop it, we need to kill the bacteria in his body.”

  “So, it’s cured with simple antibiotics?”

  “No,” Elder Bartle said.

  They had been speaking so softly, Saturn hadn’t realized the elder could hear them. She saw his blurry face turn toward her through the sheet, his bulbous golden eyes drooping in and out of the present as though the small effort had taxed him.

  “If your species’ anatomy is similar to our own, we must kill as much of the bacteria in his body as possible before we can administer our treatment. Otherwise, the Phage would be too strong to fight. Time is a factor.”

  “When will we know if it’s working?”

  “In a few hours the medicine I just gave him will take full effect. It’s important that he eats nothing for the time being. He wouldn’t be able to digest much at this point.”

  Elder Bartle used his cane to return to his feet and he shuffled through the slit in the plastic.

  “What do we do until then?” Saturn asked him.

  “If you’d like to stay with him, Nix and I need to speak. Call for us if his condition appears to change, otherwise I’ll be back to check on him in an hour’s time.”

  Saturn nodded to the old Dinari and watched Nix lead the elder out the door. The thick wooden planks shuddered as Nix closed the door, the loose iron handle jangling against itself. Saturn turned her gaze back to Liam, his blurry mouth moving under the mask as though trying to say something.

  She stepped toward the sheet cautiously. The floor creaked with every step and flecks of sand blew through the slit of a window, bouncing off the clear sheet and onto the deathly figure. She found an angle where she could clearly see the mask that covered his face. It was surreal, like something emblazoned on the walls at the Temple of Re on Surya’s godforsaken moon. It might have been a monster or a creature stolen from a Dinari legend. From what little Saturn knew about Dinari lore, it appeared that a lot of their legends were based in truth. Their ship, The Garuda, was proof enough of that fact as it was the literal embodiment of the soul of a mighty creature.

  The mask covered most of Liam’s face but left the bottom lip of his mouth visible. It was haphazardly strapped to his face since it was made for the shape of a Dinari head. Somehow it still served to cover the bulk of his face without much finagling.

  Saturn put a gloved hand up to the sheet and found her lip quivering. She bit down on it until she could taste iron on her tongue. She didn’t have the luxury of feeling sorry for herself or for Liam. Not now. He needed her to be strong. If anything happened to him, she would have to lead their crew.

  “Saturn?” Liam breathed out.

  “I’m here.”

  “You shouldn’t be.”

  Saturn moved along the sheet toward the wall, only a couple of feet from Liam’s head, and put her back against the stucco surface, sliding down into a seated position and feeling the rough exterior dig into her white tank top and cutting into her skin. Saturn didn’t notice the pain. She hugged her legs and rested the round filter of her breathing mask on her knees, careful not to break the seal against her cheeks.

  “I won’t let you die.”

  Liam let out a short laugh and said hoarsely, “It’s not up to you, is it?”

  “Maybe not.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, Saturn trying to think of something comforting to say but unable to come up with anything useful. Finally, Liam asked her, “Do you remember our first mission?”

  “Things were a lot different back then.”

  That was an understatement. Still, no matter how far they’d traveled and how different their surroundings, trouble always seemed to find them.

  “I remember you were just as stubborn.”

  “So were you,” Saturn retorted defensively. “How much do you even remember? You were pretty out of it.”

  Liam tried to laugh once more but the effort quickly turned into a ghastly, bloody cough.

  He rasped, “Not a lot.”

  Saturn asked him, “Do you know why Vesta Corporation chose us for that mission?”

  “No, why?”

  “We were the only ones dumb enough to accept. I doubt Vesta expected us to make it through in one piece. No, given what happened, I’m sure of it.”

  “Well the joke is on them, because we’re still here,” Liam said, a fleck of blood shooting out of his mouth and finding its way onto the hanging plastic sheet. “What really happened on that first mission? I only remember bits and pieces. When I think about it, my head still hurts.”

  Liam raised a quivering hand to his temple, pressing down gingerly just to the right side of the Death Shroud mask. Saturn imagined the shroud warding off evil spirits. As a child on Mars, she was told stories of a creature that took colonists during the night, never to be seen again. The creature was said to be red like the planet’s surface and blend into the shadows with ease. She knew they were only stories, but her spine tingled even thinking about it.

  “It’s a long story,” Saturn finally replied.

  “It looks like we’ve got time.”

  Saturn closed her eyes tight, thankful that her mask would hide her tears. The mission itself wasn’t the hard part, but rather what happened afterward. She doubted if she would ever tell him about the torture that ensued. The months of interrogation and the humiliation. As far as Liam knew they’d gotten away clean. He could never know. She wouldn’t have him blaming himself for what happened. She would tell him the short version.

  “You were still passed out when the Terran military boarded. I tried to wake you but you’d hit your head pretty good. Before long we’d found ourselves in the detention area.”

  •

  2142 A.D. – Terran Military Vessel Dauntless

  “Liam,” Saturn said, shaking her colleague’s shoulders. “Wake up.”

  Liam Kidd’s eyelids creaked open and recognition slowly came into his icy blue eyes. He sat up on the solid metal slab of the detention cell and cradled his head in his hands, checking the bump at his right temple for blood and finding that it had been sealed by a thin layer of adhesive. Saturn moved toward the thick Plexiglas door and banged her fist on it, generating a dull thud in the hallway beyond. The door was one solid piece of the thick glass-like material with a border of steel around the edge, creating a hexagonal pattern which repeated itself in the inlaid details of their cell.

  In the center of the door, the face of a military official appeared, projected clearly from an unseen source. He wore a nondescript gray uniform complete with a simple metallic insignia and a metal band which curled around his forehead and connected to the silver implant on his right cheekbone. His tightly cropped brown hair was hardly more than stubble, but accentuated his downturned mouth and the lines on his cheeks that suggested a near permanent scowl.

  Perhaps more unsettling were his eyes, cold and gray as his uniform. The hologram might as well have been monochrome because it would make no difference. His ashen features made him look half-dead as it was. Long periods in the cold and dark of space had likely transformed him into the downright vampiric man who was projected before them.

  The military official barked, “Your vessel is being searched now. If you cooperate with us and tell us where the stolen goods are, I’ll appeal to the courts for a reduced sentence.”r />
  Saturn crossed her arms and stood her ground.

  “Do you know who you’re dealing with?”

  “We scanned you when we brought you aboard. Saturn Vera and Liam Kidd. Wanted on suspicion of smuggling, racketeering, fraud, bribery, money laundering, assault…and that’s just you Ms. Vera. Shall I move on to you Mr. Kidd?”

  “Don’t lump me in with her,” Liam said woozily.

  Saturn ignored her associate and focused on the stolid man before her. “You must be new.”

  “On the contrary, I’m just not on Vesta’s payroll.”

  The official’s crooked smile was off-putting. He didn’t seem like the type to be receptive to special arrangements, but she thought she’d give it a shot anyway.

  “I can make arrangements for you if you like.”

  “I see you want to add another count of bribing a public official to your list of crimes,” the man said, pointing off-screen, “Make a note to put that in my report.”

  Saturn ground her teeth together. One of the only perks of working with Vesta Corporation was they were supposed to ensure this sort of thing didn’t happen. They would tear her ship apart trying to find the goods, but she’d hidden them well. It would take hours for the Terran military to find them amongst all the rest of the cargo.

  “You have nothing to say?” the official asked.

  Saturn smiled, placing her hands on her hips and projecting her confidence. There was no way she was going to let someone like him intimidate her. She was Saturn Vera. Did he not know what that meant?

  “Just one question. What do I call you?”

  “I’m Lieutenant Wilkes, commander of this vessel.”

  A Lieutenant. Just as she’d thought. Vesta Corporation hadn’t gotten to him yet. However, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t have friends on the ship. The Dauntless was easily ten or twenty times larger than her small freighter and probably hosted a crew of more than one hundred. She wondered how many were on Vesta’s payroll and why a lowly Lieutenant was calling the shots.

  Saturn motioned that she was done with the officer and dismissed him, “You’ll find I have a long memory. You can go now, Lieutenant. I’m finished with you.”

  She turned her back to the image of the official, which prompted an infuriated grunt followed by a bleep and then silence. Liam shook his head and leaned back against the metal hull.

  “What?”

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Liam scolded her, half-mockingly.

  “He needed to be educated. I hate Vesta Corporation as much as the next person, but I know better than to mess with them or their assets. A green officer like him needs to learn quick or face the consequences.”

  Growing up on the Martian colony, Saturn learned the hard way that Vesta Corporation’s tendrils ran deep. Judges, doctors, security, restaurant owners, hell, even the damn florist all had reason to do Vesta’s bidding. She had always dreamed of exploring beyond the colony and seeking her fortune. Following in the footsteps of a long line of scientists had never interested her. Saturn’s grandmother used to tell her stories of her late husband Ronan, the hero of the colony. The images of him that cycled through the screens in every corridor and common area made him seem larger than life. She wanted that sort of legacy. A name that would live on long after she was gone.

  Liam shook his head and sighed. “We can’t do much from this cell. I’m going to get some rest.”

  Liam made to lie down on the metal bench but Saturn pushed him upright and sat down next to him. “Don’t be ridiculous, you could have a concussion. Keep talking.”

  “About what?”

  Saturn began playing with the strap of her brown leather gloves, loosening and then tightening them again out of habit.

  “I don’t know. Where are you from?”

  “New Hampshire originally, but I’ve been living in Toronto since I started doing jobs for Vesta.”

  “They have a regional headquarters there, don’t they?”

  “It’s massive,” Liam said drowsily, yawning before he could continue. “I can’t see the top from my apartment on most days. What about you?”

  Saturn swelled with pride when she declared, “The Colonies.”

  “A Martian?” Liam asked, excitement coloring his tired voice. “You can’t be a Martian. Martian girls aren’t pretty. The gene pool’s too small.”

  Saturn glowered at him, feeling a familiar anger bubbling up inside her. It took a lot of exertion for her to keep quiet, but she could hardly fault a man with a broken head for his ignorance. She’d suffered through snippy portrayals in Earth media her whole life. There were hundreds of thousands of residents on Mars now with more flowing in every day. It was more than enough to diversify the gene pool. Perhaps his statement cut her deep because she was a direct descendent of Daniella Vera, one of the original colonists. Back then the gene pool really was small, especially after what happened during the first attempt at colonization. Still, she’d have plenty of time to deal with Liam’s backhanded compliment once his head wasn’t garbled. She preferred a fair fight.

  Liam’s head began to drift down onto Saturn’s shoulder and she shrugged him off a little harder than she’d intended.

  Liam protested, “Hey! Injured and sleep deprived here; I’ll be a great help if we try to get off this ship.”

  “I have a feeling we won’t have to do it alone.”

  12

  2146 A.D. – The Sand’s Edge Bar, Akaru Colony, Planet Surya

  Sunlight crept through the slits of the bar’s front entrance, slinking along the floor as the sun moved along its path. Elder Bartle had just taken his first bite of his bread which was smeared with mashed Jicala, a common star-shaped tuber known for its health benefits. The elder swore by it, and given his advanced age, Nix was beginning to see its merit as well. However, like any other healthy food, the Jicala had an odor that was less than palatable.

  Growing up, seeing what Nix had seen, he never expected to live as long as he had. There were countless instances in which he should have been dead. Thinking about maintaining a healthy body seemed like such a foreign idea. What was the point when few lived beyond middle age?

  Elder Bartle finished the first half of his bread and wiped a few crumbs from the edge of his mouth.

  “You’re worried,” the elder stated. “I see it written all over your face.”

  “You’re not?”

  Elder Bartle shook his head. Nix didn’t know how the elder could remain so calm. Perhaps as a survivor of the Phage Sickness he’d already faced pain worse than anything he could imagine happening to him now. He supposed that would ease some people’s minds. Nix wasn’t convinced.

  The elder looked up to the ceiling and raised his hand. One of the glowing orbs responded, floating silently down until it just grazed the tips of his fingers. Elder Bartle closed his hand around it gently and examined it up close. The flitting lights inside were mesmerizing to watch up close.

  “We can learn a lot from Flicker Bugs. You know the orb is a natural phenomenon? It is a part of their ecosystem. A method of protection. Without it, they could not survive. When a Flicker Bug dies, the others use its body to reinforce the orb. As the corpse decomposes, the others derive all the nutrients they need to live. Entirely self-sustaining. It’s a lot like The Union in the old stories. The bodies of ancient creatures, their life force, absorbed into spaceships with immeasurable power. It’s the Aether that makes them strong.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “How did the orb itself come to be?”

  Nix sighed and decided to humor his aging companion.

  “No one really knows, do they? No one’s ever seen one being made.”

  Elder Bartle chortled and replied, “That’s because no one cares. Not as long as they work. The Flicker Bug doesn’t create it. The orb itself is alive. Aware even. It’s the orb that responds to our will. Senses us. But make no mistake, one could not survive without the other.”

  Ni
x remained silent for a moment, thinking over the elder’s words. He wondered why the elderly always insisted on beating around the bush. If anything, they should be anxious to get to the point before they passed on.

  “What are you trying to say, that we need the Ansarans?”

  Elder Bartle gazed through the orb, the light of the Flicker Bugs reflecting off his golden eyes.

  “Nix, you’ve seen more than most twice your age. But you don’t remember the war. There may come a time when the Alliance is our only chance of survival, regardless of what we think of the Ansarans. No matter what may happen later, we can’t afford to squander an opportunity if it presents itself.”

  Elder Bartle coughed and then continued with his rasping voice, “Boy, I remember when you were a child and I was treating your parents.”

  “Stop,” Nix said softly, still staring at the light from the orb. He imagined the countless specs within transforming into the shapes of his parents. Flames engulfed their motionless bodies, a ritual for the dead. Nix thought he had repressed that particular memory. It hadn’t entered his mind in years. What boy would choose to remember watching his parents burn before his eyes? It was for the good of the colony, Elder Bartle had told him. To prevent the disease’s spread.

  The elder continued, “They were taken from you too soon, it’s true. But don’t confuse what’s happening now to what happened back then.”

  Nix felt an emptiness in his stomach that reached up into his throat, strangling his will to speak. He felt a dampness in the corners of his eyes. He never spoke about them. Nix was a small boy when the sickness took his parents. He was ashamed to admit that he couldn’t even remember their faces.

  “How can I not?” Nix struggled to say.

  “Back then,” Elder Bartle began, leaning over the light so his leathery face was illuminated, “The Phage was a fact of life. Anyone who was paying attention knew where it came from. Those Ansarans with their insistence on genetic manipulation. The truth is they were successful in creating the perfect weapon to defeat us. But they didn’t. They couldn’t.”

 

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