by Jay Allan
STARS & EMPIRE 2
All works in this collection are copyrighted by their respective authors.
Published by Steel Magnolia Press.
INITIATE
ENDI WEBB
MOON WRECK
RAYMOND L. WEIL
THE INVISIBLE WAR
JASPER T. SCOTT
TITANS
EDWARD W. ROBERTSON
SKY HUNTER
CHRIS REHER
QUARTER SHARE
NATHAN LOWELL
LEGACY CODE
AUTUMN KALQUIST
STARSHINE
G. S. JENNSEN
THE FOREVER GATE 2
ISAAC HOOKE
GEHENNA DAWN
JAY ALLAN
INITIATE
ENDI WEBB
-o0o-
INITIATE
BOOK 1
ENDI WEBB
Copyright © 2014 Endi Webb
All Rights Reserved
-o0o-
Initiate: Book 1 is a short novel, the first of a four part series, written exclusively for Stars & Empire 2.
Book 2 will be released in December, 2014.
Book 3 will be released in January, 2015.
Book 4, and the collected omnibus version will be published in February, 2015.
-o0o-
To be notified of the releases of books 2-4, please sign up for Endi Webb’s mailing list.
1.
Esther Dale was unsure whether the strange man entering her bedroom meant to kill her, or seduce her. Since she had never killed anyone she wasn’t sure how to tell. She was hoping for the latter. As it was, she squirmed beneath the surface of the cool, linen sheets. Although she was fairly certain that her heart ought to be pounding by this point in the process, for some reason anxiety and anticipation escaped her. Instead, she felt flushed, and full. She rubbed her legs back and forth in anticipation, waiting for the shadowy form that hovered in the doorway to come forward into the light.
The figure began to move forward, slowly. Carefully. Esther squinted against the dim light. There was something odd about the way the man moved—as if the darkness from the doorway somehow stuck to his skin, cloaking him against the soft light of the bedside lamp. No matter how far he came into the room, Esther could not clearly discern his features beyond the generalities of masculine lines and musculature.
That was fine. She could wait to solve his mystery. She had time. Her eyes closed against the approaching dark cloud, and she inhaled one long, deep breath, holding it tight against her ribs before slowly exhaling. She kept her eyes closed though. That was another odd thing. She wasn’t really one to close her eyes as unknown men approached her in her bedroom. But tonight, with him, things were different. For one thing, his scent carried with it a sense of times long passed—wood bark, damp earth, and, what was that? Smoke? But cleaner somehow ... Campfire. The word surfaced, bringing with it faint memories from a time that lay years in her distant past.
But now, in the present, that same scent here, in her bedroom, in the middle of the night, emanating from a dark man striding purposefully toward her, her hair draping over the pillow—it was somewhat disorienting.
And what exactly was taking him so long? She was ready and waiting. Her previous calm began to slip away as her active mind pondered the puzzle of his slow approach. It had to have been five minutes already; possibly more. And he was still clear over by the door! What the ...
... her eyes snapped open. Damn, she thought. Another dream. And not even a very good one at that. Who has sex dreams where they can’t see the other person, and where all the anticipation is replaced by a calm acceptance and almost analytical observation? Apparently forty-two-year-old women sleeping alone, that’s who.
Still, she scanned around her room, just in case. In case of what, she wasn’t quite sure, but the dream had felt so real that it did seem like the prudent thing to do. The integrated bedframe, monitor lights set to night-time red; the table, the light, the chair, the closet. All of it bathed in the gentle glow of the orbiting moons, one a silver sliver high in the northern sky, and the other a quiet reddish giant, hovering above the eastern horizon.
Esther Dale sighed, and sat up. She touched a square red button near the head of the bed, and the blinds rose, covering the window and masking the moonlights. For that reason, she also failed to see the angry white light streaking out from the trees, covering the lawn, and eventually landing among the roses where it proceeded to burn a small gazebo to the ground in 2.34 seconds.
2.
In the morning, Esther awoke promptly at 4:59 am, just as she did every day. At first she was a bit put off to open her eyes and find it still dark, but, blushing only slightly, she then remembered last night’s nocturnal adventures (or the depressing lack thereof, if I’m being honest here, she thought to herself) and her uncustomary raising of the window blind. Another quick push of the square button and sunlight streamed through her open window.
Although Esther normally followed a fairly mundane routine in the mornings, this morning, for whatever reason, she deviated from her prescribed path. For example, she did not approach her window and gaze out appreciatively at the view as she normally did. If she had, she would have been surprised to discover that the picturesque gazebo whose slatted roof had provided shade and solitude to so many, including Esther herself, no longer existed. Instead of charmingly weathered plasticene, a giant webbing of scorch marks delineated the spot of the gazebo’s demise.
But Esther only glanced outside from her bed as she arose, and, satisfied with her view (mountains did have their advantages, after all), went into her closet to find her clothing for the day.
And that is why she failed to notice the small, silent, silvered tech crawling up the wall, carefully crossing the threshold of the windowsill, and entering her bedroom.
3.
She had just made her selection when, to her surprise, things blew up. Literally. Back in her closet Esther heard a muffled crunching of plasticene and the odd, sucking sound of a pre-programmed dampening field, which hollowed out the noise of the explosion and resulting destruction so efficiently that she doubted anyone outside her bedroom would know she was even awake, let alone that an explosion had just occurred.
She stuck her head cautiously outside her closet door. The tech, most certainly unlicensed, given its recent behavior, was not waiting around to be snatched and examined: she caught a glimpse of it leaving the way it came in. The sunlight bounced off its body (Why is it so reflective? Is it somehow that new?) as its undulating arms slipped sinuously through the sill, and down the wall again.
Her bed was, regrettably, destroyed. Smithereened, in fact. Shards of plasticene mixed with brown synthetic bedding in a jumbled heap. Her nightstand was partially intact, and her chair had only tipped over. Esther supposed that she ought to be grateful that her total losses were fairly minimal. She could get a new bed. Bedding, even, and all before nightfall.
But what she needed even more than a new bed, she decided, were answers. And the only way she was going to get them involved leaving her bedroom. So Esther Dale pulled on her stark black tunic, bound her hair back, and lowered the coif into place. She quickly tossed the scapular over her habit and tied the leather belt carefully around her waist. (Her hands couldn’t help but linger over the feel of leather—real leather!—as they did every morning.)
Clothed and covered, Sister Esther
Dale of the Order of the Sainted Cumulus Mesofactia stepped out of her room and into the hallway, intent upon finding the Mother Superior.
4.
The Order of the Sainted Cumulus Mesofactia in this quadrant was located on top of a mountain. Of course, given the fact that the planet of New Oregon (“NuO,” to the locals) was not very mountainous, the mountain supporting the Order had been erected through the combined efforts of the Interplanetary Corps of Engineers and the corporate manufacturing giant Plast Inc. Still, since the surrounding terrain was fairly flat to begin with, the manufactured mountain was impressive enough to serve its purpose. Which was to remind the inhabitants of NuO that the way to heaven was steep, and that the heavens above watched the earth below.
Not that they were subtle about it. Everyone knew that the bell tower housed the most advanced optical tracking tech in the known universe. And that the carillon bells rang out not to mark the passage of time, but rather to remind them of the ever-present Gift of Sight that threaded down through the tower: thick, twining strands of data cables twisted into ropes before they plunged into the underground levels of the convent and on into the drive towers. God saw everything; the Church made sure.
Which is why Esther—while both concerned and intrigued by the recent demolition of her bed—was not necessarily agitated. She knew as well as any novice that the interior cameras were very good, and she was fairly certain that if she could just find the Mother Superior and speak to her about the matter that the appropriate steps would be taken and the matter sorted.
Esther was not, by nature, much of a worrier to begin with. The path of her life had followed a fairly predictable course: born on NuO at the prescribed time to law-abiding parents who had dutifully waited their reproductive turn for over thirty years, Esther was a legal offspring accorded the full benefit of the law in all educational, monetary, and social matters. Predisposed to problem-solving and showing an acute aptitude for tech manipulation, it was only a matter of time before she chose the Church. Her parents had been proud, of course; her mother did cry just a little, but perhaps that was to be expected.
The fact was that a career in the Church, while highly prestigious, was also somewhat nebulous. Esther hadn't at all been sure what to expect in terms of her actual duties. She only knew that the wimpled nuns who recruited her had been strong, efficient, and incredibly conversant on all aspects of any tech she could think to discuss, and that was enough for Esther.
Of course, she knew the basic contours from her history classes: back on Earth in the twenty-third century, the incessant political, economic, and environmental tensions had culminated in an increasing dependence on the early precursors of today's tech—computing, robotics, webs of competing communications networks, and, most significantly, the emergence of true artificial intelligence. It was only a matter of time before the faith of the people turned towards the tech as a way to save them from the mistakes of past generations. And thus the computer overlords were born, she thought wryly. It wasn't entirely a joke, but no one would dare call the Conglomerate Church an overlord. It was more a matter of Church leaders being in the right place at the right time. People placed their faith in the tech, and the scattered churches came together, institutional framework in place, ready and waiting to accept and channel their faith as society rebuilt itself following the Indus War. The ancient catholic modality won out due to its track record (it was the only church sufficiently permanent and simultaneously flexible) and the Conglomerate came together. God stayed in place, but the Council of Buenos Aires in 2357 made it clear that God's true miracle was not His word, but His tech—which was just His word in other form.
All that was ancient history, but after 700 years of peaceful expansion and colonization, the system, as they said, worked. And if one wished to study, build, manipulate, program, or otherwise engage the tech, one went to the Conglomerate Church and presented him or herself as a novice. With any luck, they would test in.
5.
While Esther was lost in thought as she traveled down the plasticene bricks of the convent corridor, she was not so lost as to ignore the odd sensation that something had joined her on her walk to find the Mother Superior. Life-forms on NuO were still something fairly rare—human life, of course, was carefully controlled and monitored in order to ensure equality as well as efficiency in resource distribution. Such measures were necessary. And the remaining animals brought to NuO by the original colonists had been part of a tried and true recipe designed to support human life and the building of the colony. All births and all deaths were carefully scheduled through the appropriate governmental offices. There were the occasional regrettable accidents, of course, but they were relatively few and far between.
So while Esther knew that, according to the convent schedule, she ought to be alone as she travelled down the corridor, she couldn't shake the feeling that something followed her, unlikely as it might be. Given the recent events in her bedroom, it was actually quite unsettling. And Esther didn't unsettle easily.
"Sister Esther!" called a cutting voice. Esther broke mid-stride, turning with cat-like grace as she sank down to one knee, hands clasped in formal recognition of her mentor. "Rise," the Mother Superior said drily. "I'm glad to find you this morning. I received a report from the sisters in Ocular Security that there was a bit of an explosion in your room this morning."
"Yes, Mother."
"What, exactly, happened?"
"Small techbot, coil propulsion. Unlicensed. Entry through exterior window. I was in the closet, dressing, or I would have disabled it immediately of course."
"Hmmm." Esther rarely saw the Mother worried, but the slight line crossing the Mother's forehead was creasing and deepening as her eyebrows knit together.
"Mother?" Esther queried. "Is there something troubling you?"
The Mother Superior cast a quick glance behind, then, oddly, looked up towards the high arched ceiling. She shook her head quickly, as if to dislodge an unpleasant thought.
“Not here.” She motioned for Esther to follow as she hurried off towards the main offices located at the northernmost end of the convent. Esther followed, eyes sweeping the hallway for signs of anything out of the ordinary, but failed to discern anything of significance. They turned, passing a group of white-robed nuns on their way to the clean rooms. The pale nuns paused as they saw the Mother Superior, bowing their heads in respect. The Mother paid no attention; her feet pounded onward, focused on their goal.
Once they reached the main office complex, the Mother Superior slowed down. She apparently did not want anyone to think that there was anything unusual going on. Exchanging pleasantries with the secretary, pausing to read and sign the latest comestibles order as it was placed in front of her by a rather over-enthusiastic administrative assistant (Novices! Esther snorted to herself)—no one looking at the Mother Superior would ever have thought that just a few short minutes ago she had been practically charging down the central corridor in order to reach these offices. The Mother Superior appeared to have forgotten that Esther was even there.
Esther chewed her inner cheeks impatiently until she realized what she was doing and, slightly upset at such a thoughtless loss of control, immediately clenched her jaw shut, willing herself to ignore the insistent sensation that something about this whole morning was not just off (for, Esther had to admit, almost being blown up in one’s own bedroom was certainly not normal, although her training and disposition had permitted her to act in the most efficient and least hysterical manner possible) but deeply, perhaps even dangerously, wrong. One does not just blow up a nun and not expect a rucus.
“Esther, please come in. Let’s go over your training rotation schedule for the next few weeks, shall we?” The Mother Superior’s deep-voiced request radiated a relaxed authority that Esther could only hope to achieve someday. She nodded, and followed the Mother into her private offices. Once inside, she headed towards her customary seat across the imposing plasticene table (the plasticene had be
en treated in such a way that it looked like real wood—so much wood, even imitation wood, was fairly intimidating on an outpost planet like NuO). But the Mother shook her head, signaled silence, and gestured for Esther to stay put. Curiosity sufficiently aroused, Esther stilled as she watched the Mother, who appeared to be having some sort of conniption.
The Mother had walked to the center of the room, directly beneath the large, hanging oc-tech orb that served as the room’s security, light, and thermostat all in one. The Mother raised her hands above her head, folded her body to the left, then right, and then carefully convulsed in a tight circle, fingers weaving in intricate, interlacing patterns. Just as Esther was seriously considering coming over to the Mother in order to help calm her until the fit passed, a blinding flash of red light silently cracked off every reflective surface in sight. But instead of fading, the light appeared to be clinging to, even coating, the entire interior surface of the office.
“Internal dampening field combined with ocular holographic projection and real-time data stream. Anyone looking into this office, either with their eyes, their ears, or any teched permutation of the two, will see you and I, sitting as we always do, across the desk, talking about a variety of mundane items as well as a more detailed training schedule. I programmed it in several months ago, should the need arise. And it apparently has,” said the Mother Superior.
While not talkative, Esther was rarely at a loss for words. But at this announcement, she gaped embarrassingly at the Mother, unable to respond.
“This morning, Sister Anna, Sister Maria, and Sister Tia were all found dead. Smoking in what remained of the charred residue that once had been their beds.” The Mother Superior’s voice, which Esther had never heard be anything but calm and authoritative, shook ever so slightly as she shared this news.
Esther blanched, her head spinning. “Dead?” she repeated.
