Endless Sky (An Island in the Universe Trilogy Book 1)

by Greg Remy

  “I’m... I’m—”

  “Doctor,” Zoe cut in and held up her hands to show that she meant him no harm. “Please, can we simply talk?”

  He brought out his card and Darious quickly stepped in-between him and Zoe.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay,” said Zoe. “Be cool. Everybody be cool, this isn’t a robbery or anything.”

  Dr. Saknussemm drew his arm back and, in a quick motion, grabbed the tall shelf behind him and pulled it forward, bringing it down on Zoe and Darious. It flattened them both out on the floor and a hard can of jellied beans smacked Zoe on the face. She cursed. Of course he would run; she should have been more on her guard. Zoe’s arm immediately began to throb. The shelf was pinching it against the opposite counter. Darious lifted and they both wiggled out from under the mess.

  “Ugh,” said Zoe, brushing herself off and then Darious. He had quickly replaced the hood over his head, but a crowd was already stirring.

  “Damn it.” Zoe was looking out beyond the scowls. “Now where did he go?”

  “I see him!” Darious grasped her hand and pulled her with gusto out of the store, and down the busy corridors. There was momentary shouting, but it was quickly drowned out by the sounds of the never-ending claptrap of travelers.

  Darious half-sprinted through the hallways with Zoe close behind, closing in on the clumsy cloaked man, who was knocking into people and pushing others out of the way. There were some peeved voices and many condescending sneers, but no one physically intervened. Darious and Zoe nimbly navigated and were converging on the Doctor.

  “Doctor Earl!” Zoe called, but her voice was overthrown by the crowd.

  “Doctor Earl!!” shouted Darious with a great might in his voice. The Doctor turned back with wide eyes. He dodged into an ancillary hallway. Darious and Zoe made the same turn just fifteen seconds later and found themselves fighting through a white-water current. Zoe noted the sign above them displaying ‘Outbound Flights,’ and they soon came upon the station’s main shuttling service area with multitudinous entryways at every angle, each with a numeric indicator above it including flight details. Both of their heads swiveled about through the crowds. Zoe could not sight him.

  Darious suddenly grabbed her hand and they were they were off again.

  “Did you see him?!” Zoe shouted from behind.

  “I believe so! This way!” Darious ran down a passage and made a left turn down a narrower hallway. He paused, quickly shifting his gaze from person to person.

  Zoe leaned on his back, taking a quick breather. Darious led them a few paces deeper into the corridor, stopped-up with throngs of waiting people. Zoe could see it dead-ended into an outbound flight carrier. There was an attendant next to the doorway, resting her elbows on a podium and lazily processing the people passing through. Though slightly out of breath, Zoe’s mind continued racing. Was this a dead end for them? For the Doctor? If Darious was right, surely now they had him. Why was Dr. Saknussemm putting up so much of a fight? That baleful moniker which had troubled her since she had read about him kept repeating in her head: ‘Nero the Purist.’

  Green arrows lit up on the ceiling, pointing towards the outbound flight entrance. An intercom crackled. “Flight 603c, Port Auborne to Polestar 7, now boarding.” The message ended with a tone, sending the crowd into an uproar around Zoe and Darious. They spun around but were centered within a single-minded mob and about to be washed away.

  “No. No. Sorry sir. Excuse me. Excuse me.” Zoe and Darious attempted fruitlessly to ease away from the crowd but to no avail. They were pushed and prodded forward, like two black sheep in a transhumance herd. Before Zoe knew it, they had passed through the gate, the attendant had scanned their faces, and they were onboard the great space carrier.

  Zoe and Darious finally washed up on fabric seats deep within the craft. Zoe stamped her foot and sat with a scowl, arms crossed. Darious shook his head under his hood, still being shouldered by bustling travelers.

  “Have you ever...,” he began.

  “Damn it. Damn it Damn it,” Zoe repeated. She looked up at him. “I am sorry Darious.”

  His eyes eased, and he looked at her with compassion. “It is alright Zoe.” He held out his sweatered arms. “Look, I still have all my limbs.”

  She earnestly tried for a smile, but her insides were still steaming too hot. Zoe stood up and looked back from whence they had come. Though people were quickly dispersing to any and all available seating, the fast-flowing madness still could not be weathered.

  A voice broke in from the ship’s speakers, stating in a calm, though slightly mechanical voice, “Boarding complete for flight 603c: Port Auborne to Polestar 7. You may feel a slight bump as the ship exits the bay. Your pilot today is Captain Malley O’Hare. For your convenience, in Sections A through E of Floors 2 through 6 you will find amenities, including snacks, drinks, and everything you may need to make your flight comfortable. We hope you enjoy your flight onboard Epsilon Spacelines. Star light. Star bright. May Epsilon be the star that guides you tonight.”

  Zoe, Darious, and the entirety of the passengers slightly swayed back and then forth as the ship lifted up from the enormous bay of the port and started its long journey though the emptiness of space. Zoe sat with a slump and exhaled.

  “Well, nothing to do now but enjoy the ride.” Her blood was still settling from being outmaneuvered by such a senseless man. Darious took a seat next to her.

  Zoe began mulling over recent events. After some time huffing and puffing, she turned to Darious and whispered, “You know what is so odd about all this?” She did not wait for him to respond. “Nowhere did that report mention the Doctor’s apparent prodigious knowledge of intergalactic communications, or being a master mechanic with insane ship modifications, or that unexplainable, so-called ‘Neutrino pulse’ technology.”

  Darious thought for a moment. “I suppose his followers could have aided him.”

  “Sure. But he is such a scared, distraught man. I don’t know Darious. I smell a rat.”

  “A rat?” Darious sniffed the air and then paused, turning to Zoe, and nodding in understanding of the metaphor. “Ah. I do agree. I have never heard of this man, or of attacks on GenSol facilities.”

  “Me neither. The galaxy is a big place,” replied Zoe. “But not that big.” She bit her lip. “Something is not right here. There is no way the man we met today is that man. This has implications, you know.”

  “Indeed so,” responded Darious.

  Zoe sighed and stared out the window into space. Her eyes became self-guiding, lazily searching the outside blackness and shifting from speck to speck while her mind’s eye zoomed in and drew fuzzy scenes about each one. She could feel her back muscles relaxing. The seat was comfortable, and the contours of its plush cushions reticulated until they exactly matched her body.

  “Now if only I had a Carnegie Cosmo.”

  Darious smiled at her. “Here you are, my lady.” She looked down at his empty cupped hand and smiled.

  As the boat sailed through the eternal night, the two enjoyed a few more laughs and inside jokes while deep in their minds a new scene was drawn, starting from a speck, and expanding into a full sun with the warmth to endear all the planets of the galaxy. They then sat together in tranquil silence for a long while as the soft sway of the ship cradled them, alleviating the many aches of their journey. Together their eyes fluttered and soon sleep became them.

  Some time later, Zoe awoke and shifted in her seat, waking Darious. She yawned. “I’m sorry, nature calls.” She got up and scooted past him as he tucked in his legs.

  “Let’s see,” she mused to herself, tapping a finger to her chin. “Was it two floors down, three rows to the right? Or three floors up and 2 rows to the left?”

  Zoe made her way to a broad staircase leading to the deck below. “And down we go.” She walked with a skip to the lower level, pausing at a directory which starred her location and pointed to various amenities and restrooms. “Ladies Room.
Bingo.” Zoe moseyed on while teasing a lock of hair, strolling as if on a cruise.

  Feeling much relieved from being relieved, she began to wander the ship. Most seats were occupied, though some people were also stretching their legs. As she made her way from floor to floor, she overheard gossip, snores, and the munching of chips. Without realizing it, she walked through a curtain and into a service cabin for flight attendants. A casually dressed man in a short-sleeve shirt with overbearing muscles paused his conversation with a female attendant in Epsilon’s azure collared skirt. She eyed Zoe with disapprobation.

  “Ma’am,” the attendant spoke up, “this section is for personnel only. If you have an issue, please press the call button above your seat.”

  Zoe nodded and backed out, already mentally retracing her steps to rejoin Darious. Then she overheard the man speak the words ‘Dr. Nero’ and she sharply spun around, putting her ear close to the curtain as it whooshed closed.

  “No worries, ma’am,” said the man in a low voice. “The situation is under control. I’ve been instructed to keep an eye on him, but not to alert him. He’s not armed.”

  “But you just said he’s a fugitive. An extremist,” the attendant whispered back. “A murderer,” she hissed.

  “No need to worry. There is a team on standby that will take him into custody as soon as the ship lands. Professionals.”

  “That’s all well and good, but they are not here.”

  “Ma’am, the situation is under control,” the man grunted.

  She muttered flatly, “Thank you for informing me, Marshal.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am. Now please, be calm. I will be keeping you and your crew up to date.”

  Zoe flopped down in the closest seat to her and buried her head in a magazine as the curtain spread open. The brawny man strut out and past her. Her heart sped up at the thought that Dr. Saknussemm was onboard. She turned and watched the Space Marshal work his way to the end of the isle toward a flight of stairs. Zoe got up and followed him, being careful to mind her distance. They went up two more levels and then through a long section of the ship with many rows of seats, most of which contained sleeping passengers. The Space Marshal seated himself about a dozen seats shy from the very first row. The Doctor must be somewhere close by, thought Zoe. She regained her bearings and quickly made her way back to Darious.

  Zoe paused as she reached him and smirked. Darious had fallen back asleep and was half slumped over her seat, his hood covering his head with his hands cradling it underneath. She felt bad for having to wake him, but this was an urgent matter. She sat next to him and softly nudged his shoulder.

  “Darious.” There was no movement. “Darious,” she whispered again with a slightly harder push. He momentarily spasmed and slowly sat up, yawning.

  “Ahhh. Yes Zoe?”

  “Doctor Saknussemm,” she whispered in excitement. “He’s onboard.” Darious jolted upright, his eyes staring deep into hers.

  “What? How do you know!?”

  “Shh. Shh. I overheard a space marshal talking about him. Seems he has been found out. They have police waiting for him when we land. They...” she looked with dismay. “They also called him a murderer.”

  Zoe could see puzzlement on his face. “But how—” Darious began and then lowered his voice, “how did he get onboard if he is wanted?”

  “He does seem quite capable when it comes to getting around. Plus, consider his knack for sciency things. I suspect he simply bested the security systems.” Zoe came closer to Darious. “Look, we gotta ask the Doctor some questions. He seems to know all about whatever is going on.”

  “Should we even approach him? Especially now that he is being monitored?”

  “I do agree we don’t want to be seen with him. Being detained by the CF is not the sort of thing that would make my day.”

  “What should we do?” asked Darious. “Once he is taken, it will most likely be even more difficult to talk with him.”

  Zoe’s eyes glinted and a smirk crossed her face. “I have an idea.”

  A short while after, Zoe heard an overly-dramatic fainting gasp. Right on Cue. She would have to remember to give Darious a Galactic Emmy later. The Space Marshal had also taken notice. He sternly got up and jogged his way to the downed individual. Meanwhile, Zoe quickly eased in between rows of seats, working her way closer and closer to the Marshal’s seat whilst being careful not to wake any of the sleeping passengers.

  She coolly sat in his seat, as if it had been hers all along, and craned up to be at the Marshal’s sitting eye level. In the direction straight ahead was a clear view of Dr. Saknussemm. He was just 5 rows ahead, lounging back and ostensibly asleep. Though his hood was covering his head, Zoe was sure it was him. She could hear Darious groaning behind her and turned to see the Marshal had caringly turned him over, caringly enough until he pulled back the hood and saw the clone. The Space Marshal suddenly let his hands go and Darious’ head smacked hard on the floor.

  “Ow,” Darious muttered and opened his eyes. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, sir.”

  He quickly stood up, grasping the Marshal’s hand in both of his and shaking it vehemently. Zoe turned back to her target and quickly worked her way low around sleeping travelers to the Doctor. She very, very delicately slid herself into the seat next to him; he made no movements. Maybe he was actually sleeping. How do I wake him and talk to him without having him run again? She knew there was no time to muck about.

  Zoe grabbed the Doctor’s hood, and forced it downwards into her lap while pinning his arms back. He flailed in surprise and kicked out his legs.

  “It’s Zoe. Hey. It’s Zoe. Remember me?” she whispered. “Listen, you’ve been found out by a space marshal onboard. Not by me. I’m here to help.” Dr. Saknussemm twisted, attempting to regain his arms, but Zoe pushed them back harder. His frail body wriggled in pain. “Listen. Listen. We only have a minute. I’m going to let go. Pretend you’re still asleep.” She tested him by easing her grip slightly. He did not wiggle any more. She fully released her hold and he slowly sat back in his seat, facing her, though keeping his hood low. Zoe sagged low in her seat, hoping it would appear to remain empty from the perspective of the space marshal, and put her hand under her head to cushion it.

  “I... I do apologize,” Dr. Earl Saknussemm whispered. Zoe could see such terrible fright in the Doctor’s eyes. “I... I....” He tried to pull back his hood, but his hand was shaking too much.

  Zoe shook her head. “No. There is a space marshal about five rows back. He’s got you.” The Doctor fidgeted in his seat. “Stay put. He’s not going to make a move until we land. Just act like you’re sleeping.”

  “Who... who are you?” The Doctor stuttered.

  “Look, I feel...,” Zoe slowly started in a low tone with eyes now closed, as the Space Marshal had surely returned to his seat by now. “I feel as though I’m on the cusp of something. Something that I don’t yet understand. Something hidden, though somehow right in plain view. I just can’t put my finger on it.” She realized the obliqueness of her words. Even in her acute mind, she did not know exactly what she and Darious were on the trail of. Zoe was unsettled. “Something strange is going on,” she said. “And Darious and I are going to find out what it is.”

  To this the Doctor jittered a moment before settling once more. “Dar... Darious. He... is that young man as de... determined as you?”

  Zoe had not expected this clone-murdering man to ask about the feelings of one he had purportedly killed so often.

  “He is,” Zoe whispered back.

  “Th... then per... perhaps... perhaps,” he trailed off and started again. “Perhaps you are right.” Zoe was not sure how to interpret this. “Per... perhaps the galaxy is not... is not as it seems. Per... perhaps you two are cor... correct. Th... then what?”

  “Then we keep digging until we are satisfied.”

  “If... if it’s dangerous Mi... Miss Zoe?”

  “Danger is my middle name,” she coolly repli
ed.

  “Zoe. I... I am, and I am not wh... what I am.” Zoe turned the paradox around in her mind. “I... I... am Doctor Earl Saknussemm. I... I... am a phys... a harmonics phys... physicist of the fi... fi...”

  “Ah,” said Zoe, “then you and I have more in common then you may think.” The Doctor shifted his head and seemed to be easing a bit. “And can I assume what is on file about you is not true? You don’t murder clones and preach of purity?”

  He did not stir, but only made a stifled sighing noise. “You are... are cor... correct.”

  “Doctor, you are in good company.”

  Dr. Saknussemm did not speak for some time, perhaps analyzing what she had said.

  “I... I was forced to... to work for Pan... Pantheon Industries,” he whispered with both abhorrence and fear. “I tried ex... exposing them. But they... they threatened me. And... and they followed through on those threats. I.... I am not a co... cold killer.” His voice sounded tinny. “Though I had to survive.” The Doctor’s bearings suddenly seemed to fade away and he did not say anything for several seconds. He began again, “Th... they want me dead. Though I... I had to survive. Years I... I have evaded them... all of them.”

  “It is quite the home you’ve built for yourself too,” Zoe said.

  “I... I... am alone.”

  Zoe did not move, but her heart drifted toward the Doctor. She believed him. “What can you tell me?”

  Suddenly the ship’s intercom broke in. “Good day. We will be landing in approximately five minutes. Please prepare your belongings and take your seats. You may feel a slight bump as the ship docks. We hope you have enjoyed your flight onboard Epsilon Spacelines. Star light. Star bright. May Epsilon be the star that guides you tonight.”

  “I... I cannot,” said Dr. Saknussemm.

  Zoe knew time was running out.

  “Earl. Please.”

  He quivered in his seat and stared at her. “Help... help me,” he said, as defeated as she had ever heard anyone.