“It was a massacre, Graves,” Luxarn continued. “They attacked from within and without. Station defenses put up a fight, but after losing so many at the quarantine, we didn’t last long. I got myself out along with your body, Zhaff’s, and whatever else I could manage, but most of the Pervenio tech in the station was lost. Now it, along with thousands of captives, are in the hands of Kale Trass. The Ringers are calling the imposter a king, if you can believe that. Every other company with holdings on the Ring was either driven out or remains under constant duress.”
It was all coming together. The Children of Titan were experts at sleight of hand, as Zhaff and I learned the hard way. They had bombed New London on Earth to cover for stealing medicine to mend their sick. Their attack on the gas harvester known as the Piccolo was used purposefully to get it onto Pervenio Station where it could then be used as a weapon. Director Sodervall blamed this Kale character and bathed him in scrutiny so that his infamy would be built for him. All of it distracted us from what the Children of Titan really wanted...to trick Luxarn into invading an innocent Ringer quarantine and sparking a revolution united under a Trass.
“They were playing us at every turn,” I muttered.
Luxarn squeezed his fists until his knuckles went as pale as an offworlder’s; then he exhaled. “I thought I could tame the Ring. Blend our two people together so we could create the new epicenter of humanity Earth can no longer be. I gave them purpose.”
“Some people can’t ever be pleased, sir. They scrape and claw for more, and only once they have everything they thought they wanted do they realize they’ve lost everything else.” It took me until the end of my rant to realize that I wasn’t talking about Ringers at all. Luxarn didn’t notice.
“Well, they will lose everything,” he bristled. “I won’t sit around while those animals take everything my family worked so hard to build.” He knelt to pick up the rack of syringes he’d knocked over and carefully rearranged it exactly where it had been. “Nobody knows what the Ringers are capable of as well as you, Graves. As soon as we have you up again, we’re going to end the rule of Kale Trass before it begins.”
And there was the answer to all my questions. Why he kept me alive and had a leg constructed for me when I should’ve been dead. Corporate Collectors don’t get to retire. We work until our bodies give up on us or we’re zipped up in a body bag.
“Sir, I…”
He hushed me. “I won’t have any of that. They may have taken your leg, but you’re still every bit the Collector you’ve always been. We will reclaim the Ring no matter what it takes, and then, maybe, you can become the Director there that Sodervall failed to be. I’ve always taken notice of your knack for the business end of things.”
“Thank you, sir. You know nobody enjoys a compliment like me; it’s just…”
“Now.” He tapped my synthetic leg, signaling that as far as he was concerned our conversation had concluded. “I’ve been told not to exhaust you. Rest, Graves. Our retribution is coming.” He stepped out of the room, leaving a handful of possible responses on the tip of my tongue.
A short time ago, the promise of the credits due a Pervenio Director would’ve been enough to have me drooling. Sit on my ass, bark orders, and be richer than all the God-forsaken souls in Sol but for a few. It was a dream.
Presently, however, all I wanted to do was sit on my ass, empty my clouded brain, and sleep. I’d never felt so exhausted in my entire life. The most awkward thing about sacrificing yourself for someone is surviving it... Waking up and realizing you’ve got a second lease on life you never signed up for. If the loony Church of the Three Messiahs preachers back on Earth are right and there is some all-powerful being out there watching us, judging us, I think we’d get along. He or she’s got a twisted sense of humor.
CHAPTER THREE
KALE TRASS
I stood before a viewport in the Darien Uppers, staring out upon the pale, supple surface of my homeworld that was so like my own skin. The dull glow of the sun barely pierced the thick veil of clouds from an impending storm. The Uppers were once again returned to the near-freezing temperatures my people embraced, but as far as Titan was from the sun, I could still feel the slightest tinge of its warmth.
I might have been imagining it. I had to close my eyes and take it in to remind myself I wasn’t dreaming. The din of my people’s celebrations resounding throughout the city’s massive enclosure didn’t help break the illusion.
With the death of Commander Loris, the Pervenio presence on the Ring was eradicated. Minus a few officials likely hiding out in small colonies or stations on other moons belonging to other corporations, they now controlled nothing, not even a single room, within the orbit of Saturn.
So much had changed in the months since we had reclaimed Darien from our Earther oppressors, yet, in addition to the light, it still felt odd to stand in the Uppers without constantly checking over my shoulder for Pervenio security officers or making sure my sanitary mask was drawn tight enough over my mouth and nose. Some of my people still wore them. Even after we’d booted the Earthers and scrubbed every centimeter of the place, they couldn’t break the habit.
I can’t say I blamed them. The corners of my lips itched just at the thought of being exposed, but I had to set an example. We didn’t have to be afraid anymore. Titan was ours again, just as Darien Trass had always intended. We could live on the surface rather than submerged.
“Kale,” someone whispered.
I thrust out my arm. My thin fingers grasped a shirt, and I turned to see my mother, Katrina Drayton. The name Trass came from my dead father’s side. I don’t know why I’d been so on edge. Gareth, my tongueless guardian, always stood right beside me, fully armed and armored. Although, he was so quiet sometimes I forgot he was there.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” my mom replied softly. She tapped my hand to remind me to let go, then sat beside me. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine.”
She leaned closer. Her face was fuller and healthier than it had been in years, but that didn’t mean we were finished. When she was sick before the rebellion, I’d visit her and remember the vibrant woman I’d known my whole life; now it was the opposite—she sought me. For me, there was no missing the subtle lines of exhaustion plaguing the corners of her eyes. We all had them. Revolution wasn’t easy, and even after taking Titan, Pervenio Station, and a handful of other facilities throughout the Ring, there was plenty more to be done.
“You can talk to me, you know,” she said.
“Go and revel with the others, Mom. Pervenio is gone.”
“And yet, here you stand alone. Everything might have changed, but you’re still my son. You’ve been with me since you were smaller than a hand-terminal. I know when something is bothering you.”
I exhaled. “We depart for Mars tomorrow. I’m too busy to celebrate, and too tired of you telling me I shouldn’t go. Or is there something else you came over here to talk about?”
Her lips pursed in frustration. “And why should you have to? What is the point of having an Earther ambassador if she can’t handle things herself?”
“She’s not an Earther,” I snapped. She recoiled, but as I took a calming breath, she edged back closer. “They have to know we aren’t afraid.”
“After all of this, you don’t think they know that?” She gestured toward the rest of the Uppers. It was difficult to ignore. Sure, we’d completely decontaminated the place, but the scars of our revolution weren’t something that could be cleaned. Gone was the luster. Walls were peppered with bullet holes, some torn to pieces. We’d never be able to find every shard of shattered glass from storefronts. Entire areas were discolored from blood stains.
The residential towers rising toward the lofty ceiling throughout the two-kilometer-long main level of the Uppers remained mostly empty after being plundered. Even though they were now accessible, my people still refused to live in them. S
tores and markets were ravaged. Rejoicing Titanborn danced and drank upon their ruins. With the Earther credit system eliminated, nothing had yet taken its place. Everybody was equal on our new Titan. No credits to separate stature, no fences profiting off misfortune. It was a new way of life, yet I think Pervenio had kept us in the darkness so long it almost felt wrong to live in the light. It was going to take time.
“Until I stand in front of their leaders, they’ll continue considering us some trivial rabble-rousers on one of their asteroid colonies,” I said. “They’ll think they can smooth over decades of abuse with a pile of credits or one well-placed Collector.”
“I know that. I...I’m only looking out for you, Kale.”
“You don’t need to anymore.”
“I’m your mother,” she said sternly. “I always will. I’m only afraid that with the entire solar system gunning for you, you’re walking right into their hands.”
“They won’t risk their people’s lives by touching me.”
“And do you plan on holding those poor people here forever?”
“Poor? Who knows how many of them crushed one of us beneath their boot or withheld fair pay. I’ll keep them here for as long as we need them.”
“I…” She grimaced. “All I’m saying is maybe not all Earthers are as rational as you think. People died here, Kale. It impacted every one of their wallets and who knows how many clan families. Any one of them could—”
“Mom,” I interrupted and stood. On top of everything, a growth spurt from after the Piccolo exploded had me towering over her and almost every other Ringer I knew. The way her expression darkened at that moment I think was her finally recognizing that I wasn’t a boy any longer. “Stop worrying. I’ll be fine.”
She took my hands. “Then let me come with you.”
“No. I need you here. Every colony block belongs to us, and I need you to help our people see that.” She opened her mouth to reply, but I hushed her. “We can’t stay in the Lowers’ tunnels forever. After the celebration dies down, I want you working with Mazrah on transitioning all daily food distribution periods to the Uppers to draw people up for good. Offer increased rations to those willing to take up residence in the Uppers of every colony block throughout Titan as well.”
She considered saying something, then exhaled. “All right. I don’t want another fight with you. Just promise me you’ll be careful. Sometimes, I see this look in your eyes like you want them to kill you. It worries me, Kale.”
“Your son will be fine, Katrina,” Maya said as she approached from our side, half-full glass of bright purple synthahol in hand. She wore a ratty, white tunic, an orange circle of the Children of Titan painted proudly across her chest. Her sanitary mask wilted a bit to reveal the top half of the grisly scars marring the right side of her face. She hadn’t cracked a real smile since our crewmate Vick gave his life to destroy the Darien Q-zone under my orders. We had that in common, I think.
“This is between me and my son,” mom grumbled.
“I think your son has proven he can handle himself.” She leveled her glare on my mom and held it there as she scratched her wound a few times. Then she regarded me. “Come, Kale. You need to make some sort of appearance.
I nodded halfheartedly. “I have to go, Mom.” I pulled her close to my chest and planted a kiss on her forehead. She forced a smile and replied with her usual, “I love you, Kale,” but I was already turning halfway toward Maya and missed my opportunity to respond.
My aunt took my arm and walked at a brisk pace. She was always eager to pry me away from my mom before she could drill my weary ears with criticism. They’d never been close. Maya blamed my mother for keeping me in the dark about who my father was for most of my life. About who I was. A Trass.
“You did well out there, Kale,” she said, surprising me with a compliment.
“Says the woman who didn’t even want me coming along,” I replied.
“I didn’t want to send Vick out to die either, but here we are. Doesn’t mean he didn’t do a hell of a job.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. After a few drinks, she tended to harp on what had happened after we snuck onto Pervenio Station. Like Darien Trass, our late pilot Vick gave his life to give us the Ring. It was a sacrifice nobody would ever forget, not that she would let us. He was a sharp pilot with an even sharper tongue. He constantly begged Maya to meet her sister even though everyone knew how he and Maya felt about each other.
“Without Kale, we would have never had the chance to spring another one of Pervenio’s traps,” Gareth signed, rescuing me from a deepening silence.
Maya grunted in agreement. “The bastard must really be squirming now.”
“Not enough,” I added.
Maya raised her drink. “Fuck Pervenio!” she shouted. We neared the heart of the festivity now, and every one of my people within earshot elevated their drinks with her and chanted whatever came to their minds first. A few nearby then noticed I was with her and bowed their heads in reverence. Murmurs of “Lord Trass” filled the Uppers.
I tried to issue all of them an obligatory nod. It continued to be a bizarre sight to see tall, pallid Titanborn spread throughout a place meant for Earther commerce. Fighters and citizens alike. Militant members of the Children of Titan wore the orange circle proudly upon their chests, our swelling army who fought tirelessly to reclaim the Ring as well as maintain martial order during this tumultuous transition of power and economic standards.
Armor and pulse rifles were strewn all about, filling smashed market stands and counters. The coffee shop where I once convened with the Earther captain of the Piccolo to beg for my pathetic gas-harvesting job back was littered with bottles of synthahol. Advertisement viewscreens were set to flames at the base of the towering statue of my forebearer, Darien Trass, all while people danced around the vast atrium surrounding him.
It was a beautiful sight but one I doubted I’d ever get used to.
Someone ran over and shoved a drink in my hand. “For the king,” he slurred. Gareth promptly took him by the collar and tossed him back into the crowd. He then grabbed my arm and went to remove the drink, but I stopped him.
“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on drinking it,” I said. He nodded that he understood my meaning. When one of my people offered a gift, I was happy to accept it, but I didn’t imbibe. There was too much to think about...too much to potentially forget.
Maya headed toward a group of combatants playing cards on top of a vacant set of Pervenio armor.
“From ice to ashes, brothers,” she said. They repeated the words in as exuberant a manner as they could force before nervously spreading to allow her in. Not even synthahol could dull the edge she put others on, especially with her sanitary mask now hanging even further down so that the gruesome hole in her cheek was plainly visible.
She took my arm and pointed to a viewscreen hanging sideways from the wall. It was tuned to an Earth newsfeed.
“The fruits of our labor,” she sneered.
The featured reporter on the screen said, “Terror at the Ring. After a violent raid on the former Pervenio Corp. Interplanetary Ship Factory on Phoebe at the hands of the Children of Titan, joint relief efforts on Enceladus are struggling to care for the new influx of displaced citizens. Many of the survivors fled the scene on the luxury cruiser Ring Skipper but lost their lives in what sources are calling an unprecedented massacre of noncombatants. The USF Assembly has refused to comment until all details are received, but CEO of Venta Co. and noted philanthropist Julianne Venta had some strong words for our governing body as well as the rebels on Titan.”
The entire message was crammed full of stock footage from other battles with Pervenio forces. There was nobody on board the Ring Skipper filming. Their word versus ours, and of course, I knew what the majority of Sol would believe. It wouldn’t be that Commander Loris had captured Mazrah, brought her to Phoebe, and put hundreds of civilians hiding out there in danger before they absconded with the Ring Skippe
r to lay their trap.
The sounds of people hushing each other filled the Uppers as the head of the corporate powerhouse Venta Co. appeared on screen. Julianne Venta wore thick, wide-rimmed glasses, a sight I’d never seen on an Earther before, considering their penchant for corrective surgeries, especially the rich ones. She also didn’t appear to be wearing an ounce of makeup.
“The USF is failing us,” she began. “This is why I have been staunchly behind organizing a summit with the self-proclaimed king of Titan, Kale Trass, to find out how we can amiably remedy this horrible situation. USF interference must be curtailed. It is their restrictions on an armed interplanetary fleet and weaponry that allowed this to escalate—”
“You hear that?” someone yelled, making it impossible to hear the rest of what she said. “They’re calling him king now.”
“To King Fucking Trass!” shouted another. A bottle crashed into the viewscreen and knocked out the feed as cheers resonated throughout the Uppers. They were so loud anyone caught unaware might’ve thought the enclosure broke.
Hundreds of eyes fell upon me, glittering with reverence and expectation. Another thing I’d never grow accustom to. I lifted my glass, and cheers again rained down from every direction. Their reaction still felt outlandish, but as I watched the jubilation intensify, I couldn’t help the sense of pride swelling in me. If only I could tie Luxarn Pervenio down and have him watch us trash his prized, jewel colony, Darien. There would be no greater torture for the man who thought he could own us all.
“Why don’t you join us, Kale?” Maya said. She snatched up the cards and began dealing them herself, forcing a game to start. “Even a king needs to take a night off.”
I laid my hand on her shoulder. “Maybe later. Have you seen Aria? I want to make sure everything is prepared.”
Maya groaned. “Leave it to an outsider to make landing on Mars into brain surgery. I saw her checking on Mazrah down at the old Earther Bistro.”
Titan's Wrath Page 4
