The Tabit Genesis

by Tony Gonzales

  ‘Someone has to be,’ Wyllym said.

  They marched on, eventually arriving at the Corinth detention centre, twenty levels beneath the Bird Nest. Aside from hosting the occasional drunk serviceman, the facility was rarely used.

  ‘You have the distinction of being the first Navy officer to ever be charged with treason,’ Augustus said. ‘You’re also Gifted, which means you’re considered an elevated security risk. The rules are very explicit about this. We have to hold you in solitary confinement.’

  Wyllym peered inside. A vacuum toilet, sink, and padded walls in a room two metres by two metres across.

  ‘The right choice is always difficult,’ he muttered.

  Augustus nudged him inside.

  ‘You don’t need to tell me,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, Wyll.’

  The doors shut, and the lights went out.

  Wyllym assumed sleeping would lead to madness.

  The transition from dreaming to consciousness was like living a short life and dying abruptly; the brain became incapable of distinguishing between the living past and dreams. All memories, good or bad, led to darkness.

  Deprived of light, and thus reference, it was becoming difficult to believe his life had ever happened at all.

  Wyllym reflected that he had been dead once before. As a sworn protector of Orionis, he had sacrificed himself on a celestial battlefield, killing the Ceti criminals threatening law and order. Even in death, the Navy had refused to let him have peace. Wyllym had been grateful to be alive once more because he had looked forward to a life of solitude. But Orionis had found one more battle for him to fight. And he would fight, because the government could always exploit his innate call to duty. The needs of Orionis always came before his own.

  The theme of every memory that found him in the darkness was pain. The anguish of losing most of his family years ago. The physical torture of countless Gryphon sorties. Dying, and returning to life. The lack of gratitude from the Navy – or anyone else – for his selfless sacrifice. And now, imprisonment for honouring the oath he had taken as an officer, all to protect a government that barely afforded him the basic recognition of human dignity.

  And to what end? He had no children. He barely had any contact with his sister. No one else to love, or who loved him. In fact, he had never felt attracted to anyone his entire life. Every friendship along the way had been difficult, and he felt uncomfortable around civilians. Why, especially now, should he care about Orionis?

  The answer was so simple he laughed aloud. Life was a game of lesser evils – like choosing between Vespa Jade’s flawed governance or the tyrannical potential of Hedricks and the Archangel. He would always pick the side that he believed gave the human race the best chance to survive.

  This was a primordial selection, not a rational one. Just live. Live at all costs. Find a way to convince politicians that humans should never be the enemy. Remind them that their homeworld was no more than a memorial on Tabit Prime.

  Wyllym was about to doze off again when the door suddenly flew open.

  ‘Hello, Wyll,’ the gruff voice of Augustus announced. Wyllym was blinded by the light pouring in from the hallway, and felt big hands lift him up. ‘On your feet, man. We don’t have much time.’

  ‘How long has it been?’ Wyllym asked, eyes squeezed shut. He felt his wrists being placed in cuffs again.

  ‘Forty-one hours,’ Augustus responded. ‘Sorry about these. Just in case we’re spotted.’

  ‘What’s happening to me?’

  ‘No one goes in unless I clear it,’ Augustus instructed a guard Wyllym still couldn’t see.

  ‘Understood, sir,’ a young woman replied.

  ‘We’re going to meet some people you can trust,’ Augustus said. ‘No cameras or recording devices.’

  ‘Trust them with what?’

  ‘Wyll, you were right to tell the Chancellor,’ Augustus said. ‘I’m ashamed I didn’t. Hedricks is up to some very sinister things, and we need your help figuring out what they are.’

  They ended up at an interrogation room. Two guards with weapons slung across their chests waved them inside. Wyllym noticed one of the lockers was open. Several corelinks and at least one implantable cybernetic augmentation chip were inside, in addition to a pair of AR eyepieces.

  Augustus placed his own corelink inside the locker and shut it.

  ‘HVI interrogation,’ he told the guards. ‘Do not disturb.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ the guards acknowledged.

  Augustus removed the cuffs from Wyllym.

  ‘We’re secure,’ he said, opening the door. ‘In you go.’

  Wyllym took one step and stopped. One of his Gryphon pilots – Lieutenant Vronn Tarkon, Cerlis Tarkon’s youngest child – was inside. Blonde, light-eyed, and tall, built from his mother’s highborn pedigree. The training had taken its toll on him, but his genetically engineered constitution was dealing with the punishment much better than Wyllym’s was. For all his talent, Vronn had barely made the cut to become a Gryphon. But he was a good student, reserved, and always respectful.

  The other man was an older Orionis Navy Police captain. He sat at the head of the interrogation room table, which was presently arranged more like a conference centre, complete with comfortable chairs and refreshments.

  ‘Captain Lyons, it’s an honour,’ the eldest said, standing. ‘Tobias Nilsson, Director of Internal Affairs. Please,’ he said, motioning towards the table, ‘eat something, you must be starved.’

  Lieutenant Tarkon was on his feet, saluting.

  ‘Sir,’ he said.

  ‘What’s he doing here?’ Wyllym demanded.

  ‘Lieutenant Tarkon is a material witness in our investigation,’ Augustus said. ‘He has a story you need to hear.’

  Wyllym took a seat. The refreshments made his stomach growl, and he reached for a bowl with strawberries and apples.

  ‘I apologise for your treatment in front of the cadets,’ Augustus said. ‘You’re pinned down in political crossfire – that was the only play we had.’

  The fruit was delicious. Wyllym had never appreciated the taste of synthetics more in his life.

  ‘Our investigation began with a Navy project codenamed “Basilisk”,’ Tobias said. ‘Do you have any recollection of it?’

  Wyllym nodded, looking for something to wipe his mouth with. A stubbly beard had grown across his face, and bits of the red fruit were smeared across it.

  ‘I didn’t have the clearance, but the rumour was out there,’ he said, reaching for coffee. ‘Haven’t heard it mentioned in years.’

  ‘Basilisk was developing Gryphon shielding technology,’ Tobias explained. ‘It was cancelled prior to completion two years ago. The project’s source files were copied by several officers, including Admiral Hedricks. By itself, that isn’t unusual. But every time a Navy file is manipulated anywhere with corelink access, it sends a burst packet back to us. I’ll spare you the technical details, but our forensics team believes those files were copied to an illegal device somewhere in the vicinity of Brotherhood.’

  The coffee could have been brewed with bathwater, and it would still have tasted delicious.

  ‘You remember the Ceti briefing,’ Augustus said. ‘Their fleet underwent structural modifications. It’s circumstantial, but there’s a good chance they have Basilisk.’

  ‘What kind of shielding is it?’ asked Wyllym.

  ‘It makes ships nearly impervious to kinetic arms fire,’ Tobias said.

  ‘Nearly?’

  ‘Shields need time to recharge,’ Augustus said.

  ‘Why was it cancelled?’ Wyllym asked, eyeing an apple.

  ‘Officially, for budget reasons,’ Tobias said. ‘Unofficially, we have no idea. Hedricks signed off on the funding termination.’

  ‘Did it work?’

  ‘Apparently, we’re all going to find out,’ Tobias said. ‘Either Ceti picked up where our research left off, or the tech always worked and bogus results were recorded in the logs. Trouble is �
�� there isn’t time to find out.’

  Wyllym took a bite from the apple. It was bitter, but that didn’t stop him from tearing off a few more bites.

  ‘The closer the Archangel was to completion, the more Hedricks compartmentalised information,’ Augustus said. ‘And there are highborns managing the political and legal implications for him.’

  Wyllym thought the pile of discarded strawberry leaves on the table was more interesting than anything they were saying. He crunched into the apple again.

  Augustus tapped his fingers impatiently.

  ‘Just so you know,’ he said, ‘Hedricks had every armed soldier removed from the Archangel. He also tampered with your pilot list.’

  Wyllym stopped chewing.

  Augustus nodded.

  ‘I believe the lieutenant can provide details,’ he said.

  Vronn Tarkon cleared his throat. He had yet to make eye contact with Wyllym.

  ‘Sir,’ he began. ‘While you were in jail, pilots Decanto, Navokov, and Mosa were grounded by Rear Admiral Lao. He said the order came directly from Admiral Hedricks, and that they were subject to a misconduct investigation.’

  Wyllym set the apple core down.

  ‘What “misconduct” did they commit?’

  ‘Admiral Lao didn’t say, but word is they’ve been accused of worshipping the Red.’

  Wyllym stifled a groan. If it was true, they could be expelled from the Navy. Even if they were innocent, the accusation alone was enough to ruin their careers.

  ‘Well, are they?’

  Vronn’s face reddened.

  ‘No, sir, they are not,’ he said.

  ‘Would you say that in a court martial?’ Wyllym asked.

  ‘Yes, I would,’ Vronn affirmed. ‘They don’t believe in anything except their vow to the Navy.’

  ‘Who did Lao replace them with?’

  ‘Solomon, Adams, and Nkembeh.’

  ‘Worst of the bunch,’ Wyllym snorted.

  ‘Grandparents are all living highborns,’ Tobias noted.

  ‘Sir, permission to speak freely,’ Vronn asked.

  Wyllym folded his hands and leaned forward.

  ‘By all means, Lieutenant,’ he said.

  Vronn took a deep breath.

  ‘When the programme started, a lot of guys flaunted their highborn status while muscling for influence,’ the pilot began. ‘Dom and I were among the few who kept our distance. Eventually Solomon won the popularity contest. From the start, he set out to undermine you. He appealed to highborn elitism, spoke often of his hatred of ghosts. The only thing that kept his camp from open revolt was the fact you’ve never been beaten, in the sim or in space.’

  Wyllym kept his eyes locked on Vronn’s.

  ‘Solomon despised you to an unnatural extent,’ the pilot continued. ‘Eventually he began threatening the rest of us, the ones who wouldn’t go along with him. He knew deeply personal information about our parents or siblings and tried to blackmail us with it.’

  Vronn’s anger was evident.

  ‘It is true that Dominic has great interest in the Raothri,’ he said. ‘He studies them because he believes they’re the ones we should be training to fight against. But the notion he worships them is ridiculous. While Solomon ran his antics, Dom hosted open sessions to study Raothri engagements in the final hours of Earth contact. His grandparents were Christians. They raised him as one. For him to be accused of worshipping an alien species … that is bullshit, sir.’

  Vronn was looking at his hands as though he was ashamed.

  ‘Lieutenant Tarkon contacted us right after you were arrested,’ Tobias said.

  ‘We wanted to approach you about this much sooner,’ Vronn blurted out.

  ‘Then why didn’t you?’ Wyllym asked.

  Vronn shook his head in apparent disbelief.

  ‘I realise this oversteps my remit, but the reason is because you never engaged with us beyond the flight deck,’ he said. ‘The ghost comments, the prejudice … with all due respect, that was self-imposed, sir. You are the most accomplished captain and pilot in the Orionis Navy, highborn or otherwise. If you led, soldiers would follow.’

  Holding his glare at the lieutenant, Wyllym took another sip of coffee.

  Augustus held up four fingers.

  ‘We have stolen Navy tech, manipulation of Archangel personnel assignments, withholding critical information from the Chancellor, and a pending Ceti offensive that gives him a convenient reason to take full control of the Archangel,’ he said. ‘Unfortunately, Orionis law requires us to presume innocence until proof of guilt. But sometimes evidence gathering is just a formality. The implications here are so grave, I move to bring him in right now for an interrogation.’

  Wyllym had heard enough.

  ‘Look at all of you,’ he said. ‘Due cause is a “formality” for you? Who’s the scheming highborn now?’

  ‘Wait a minute—’ Augustus started. But Wyllym would have none of it.

  ‘I honoured my oath to Orionis and was accused of treason,’ he said. ‘What was the point of bringing me down here? To get me to implicate myself in an actual crime?’

  ‘Captain, we need your help to build a legal case against Hedricks,’ Tobias said. ‘But to do that, we need to know what other interactions you’ve had with him or other members of OPCOM, especially if you saw anything suspicious.’

  ‘I never trusted him,’ Wyllym said. ‘But he gave me all the latitude I needed to train those pilots. Beyond that, I had nothing to say to him, and the feeling was mutual.’

  He turned towards Vronn Tarkon.

  ‘Thank you for sharing your analysis, Lieutenant,’ Wyllym growled. ‘But the wall between people like me and the privileged – which is every one of you! – is real. I have no clue what Admiral Hedricks is planning, but he’s on your fucking side of the wall. Deal with it.’

  ‘You just proved that his opinion of you is spot-on,’ Augustus said.

  ‘So promote him,’ Wyllym spat.

  ‘I swore the same oath you did,’ Augustus growled. ‘Hedricks just jailed his best pilot on the eve of a fucking invasion. Yes, it’s circumstantial. But you’re an idiot if you don’t think it’s significant. Stop acting like a victim, Wyll. We have to get in front of this!’

  ‘I’m no combat tactician,’ Tobias said. ‘But speaking on behalf of the Orionis government, we’d very much like for you to be in a Gryphon when Ceti arrives. Chancellor Jade has given us executive authority to do whatever it takes to make that happen.’

  Wyllym shook his head.

  ‘How could that possibly be done?’

  ‘By taking mine,’ Vronn offered, drawing stares from Augustus and Tobias. ‘I’ll sit in your cell. You take my Gryphon.’

  ‘It would end your career,’ Wyllym said.

  ‘My career ended the moment I walked in here,’ Vronn replied. ‘That was my choice, and I would do it again.’

  ‘This is mutiny,’ Wyllym said. ‘You understand that, right? A government-sponsored coup. The irony is striking.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ Augustus said. ‘This is a criminal investigation and enforcement of Orionis law. By the way, welcome to Internal Affairs. You want irony? I’m your boss now.’

  ‘Your court martial won’t happen before Ceti arrives,’ Tobias said. ‘As far as the Navy is concerned, your flying days are over.’

  ‘And when it comes to flying Gryphons, there’s no one better,’ Augustus said. ‘But you can’t read people for shit. So leave the personnel assessments to me from now on. I know who my loyal troops are. We’re going to get you into the fight, but you’ll have to trust me.’

  ‘Captain,’ Tobias said, noting the clock on the interrogation room wall.

  ‘Right,’ Augustus said, rising from his seat. ‘Time for you to go back to jail.’

  29

  VESPA

  For a change, Vespa was immersed in a warm social atmosphere devoid of political scheming or overt hostility. She was aboard a government shuttle with tw
enty children, their parents, and her press secretary, Liza Brenner. The young scholars were the brightest academic performers in their respective schools, all firstborns no more than nine years of age. The reward for their excellence in the prestigious ‘Future Leaders’ programme was a personal tour of Tabit Prime by the Orionis Chancellor herself. Students watched in awe as the domed craft flew past the most impressive spectacles; the torus ring of Luminosity, the Merckon Spire, the Bernal sphere of Vulcan Industries, and the Mulberry Colonies at the space elevator of the Eileithyian moon Amnisos.

  The Navy cruiser Sacramento drew the most wondrous gasps from wide-eyed children who had never seen a warship’s railguns before. As the shuttle flew by, the Navy captain obliged by opening the ship’s missile bays for show. The kids loved it, and the adults applauded. Vespa just sighed, forcing herself to smile through a brief lecture about the armed forces of Orionis. There were a few aspiring naval officers on board, after all.

  But as they approached the Tabit Genesis, Vespa felt nothing but angst. No one aboard, save for Liza, was aware of the danger they faced.

  To preserve a memorable experience for the children, Vespa had ordered security to keep the press away from the hangar. This was to spare them from the mob who wanted her to address the persistent rumours of a Ceti invasion. For weeks, she had answered with political vagaries carefully aligned with the official Navy response: the rumours are unsubstantiated, and even if true, the threat itself was negligible.

  As she posed for pictures with the families, all Vespa could think about was Tabit engulfed in flames.

  A flood of updates assaulted her as the last child waved goodbye. Financial markets, reacting to invasion rumours, were pushing food prices higher. Corporations were stockpiling Helium-3, raising the cost of fuel. The CRO was losing value as the electronic currency was converted into commodities. Angry corporate executives were demanding attention from disgruntled Senators already pressured by nervous constituents. Intelligence agencies were generating lists of potential Ceti sympathisers and cross-referencing their personal history with shipping manifests for potential bomb-making materials.