by JN Chaney
“Seth, wait,” she said.
He placed his hand on the pod, leaning in to see the girl inside. He stared into Lilith’s face, the cyberbrain for the last remaining human ship in all the galaxy. Taking his card, he inserted it into the manual override.
“Seth, don’t!” she pleaded.
A message appeared on the side of the pod, asking whether he was certain he wanted to open the pod. Two buttons lit up.
Accept or decline.
“Stop!” cried Lilith. “Please! You’ll kill me if you open that pod. You’ll murder me!”
Seth touched the access button and watched, curiously, as the pod cracked like an egg and decompressed. The top half rose high into the air, suspending itself two feet above the body inside. When it was done, Seth stepped closer to see the woman before him.
Lilith was pale and bald, with wires protruding from her skull and into the back of the pod. She had a hairless and smooth face, but it was far more wrinkled than her age should allow. Scars covered her neck and chest, probably from the accident and subsequent cyberbrain surgeries. She had little muscle mass or fat, giving her the appearance of a sickly, old woman. It was enough to give him pause, looking at her here, a shell of the woman she used to be.
“Get away!” shouted Lilith from the monitor, but he refused to look.
Instead, he touched her cheek with the palm of his hand, and suddenly he wondered how someone so small could be so cruel. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” he whispered. “But now it’s time to go.”
“No!” Lilith screamed.
He gripped the side of her skull and ripped the cords from her brain.
At once, the woman’s face came alive, revealing a set of gray, cold eyes, wild and afraid, and she took a loud gasp. Her first taste of air in decades.
Her chest heaved, and she tried and failed to lift her head. She looked at him with quivering lips and trembling eyes. She opened her mouth to speak.
He leaned in close.
“I didn’t mean it,” she breathed.
And then she gasped, but soon relaxed. The muscles in her face went still, and her eyes grew distant and empty. She had given up the ghost at last.
Only the shell remained.
Nineteen
Seth looked at the screen where Lilith had been—where only a moment ago, a little boy stood laughing under the Fiore sun. Only blackness remained. A digital void of nothing.
Suddenly, he felt alone, the air around him lifeless, as though the Eden itself had died.
Then, as though to answer him, an alert erupted from the speakers, and an automated voice came with it. “Warning. Self-destruct sequence initiated. Core magnetic field destabilization imminent. Abandon ship immediately.”
Seth’s eyes went wide. Did he fail to kill her? No, this voice was different. Mechanical. Lifeless. This was just a program. It must have been set to activate in the event of her death. Shit, thought Seth, backing away from Lilith’s pod. He had to get out of here, and fast.
Seth ran through the cyberbrain’s central core, hitting one of the servers and sliding onto the floor. He scurried to his feet and continued, the sound of the server falling and crashing behind him. He emerged from the cold darkness of the chamber and into the light of the outer atrium. From there, he bolted to the stairs, leaping three or four steps at a time.
When he finally reached the bottom, he made his way to his brother who was still lying there unconscious.
Still breathing, too, Seth thought, relieved.
Carefully, but quickly, he launched his brother over his shoulder, and he moved. The nearest escape pods weren’t that far, but time was of the essence. Seth wasn’t a strong man, despite being a security officer. He immediately regretted not training with Steven when he had the chance.
He doubled back through the same way he’d entered, heading into the atrium’s tunnel and coming out the other side. When he arrived at the outer doors, he had to reposition Cain so he could fit them both through. All this maneuvering might end up costing him more time than he had, but he refused to leave his brother behind.
With Cain’s body on his back, he fumbled through the corridor, his knees almost buckling beneath him. He soon came to a stop, shortly before reaching the crater where the first explosion had occurred. Carefully, he crept through it, one step after the other, until he made it through. Sweat poured from his forehead, dripping into his eyes and mouth, the taste and burn of salt filling his senses.
He reached the fork in the hall, then took the second path. In the distance, he could already see an opening, and he pushed himself to get there, knowing it wouldn’t be much further.
There were several corridors shooting off from the next area. Thankfully, this room had a terminal he could access a map on. Using his security card, he called it up in only a few seconds.
Most of the offshoots led to pods, but he couldn’t risk using the same ones Paul and Michael had. The terminal allowed him to see which of the pods were still there, or even functional. According to the map, three of them had power issues, which meant they were off the table. Two others had been used by his squad. That left two remaining, fully functional pods.
Carrying his brother, Seth weaved through the second hall and entered the docking port. If he was lucky, the monitor in the bay had been correct and he would have no problem launching this one into space. If the sensors were damaged, for whatever reason, this would be the end.
He made it to the first pod, set his brother against the wall, and tapped the screen near the hatch. It came alive, displaying a warning message.
FOR EMERGENCY USE ONLY. INITIATE?
He tapped the acknowledge button and the screen flashed green, opening the pod door. Now all he had to do was get his brother in here and—
Something hit Seth in the ribs and threw him against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. He fell on the floor, gasping for air, his eyes watering. Before he could react, a leg hit him in the chest, and he fell to the side.
Cain towered above him, blood dripping from his face, half his hair singed from his skin. His eyes were red and violent, and he screamed a violent cry as he charged again.
Seth could hardly breathe, but moved anyway, raising his arm to shield himself.
Cain kicked him a second time, but missed, stumbling to the floor.
Seth wheezed, holding his side with one hand while clinging to the wall with the other, trying to stand. “It’s over, Cain,” he said, gasping. “The ship’s about to self-destruct. We have to get out here now.”
“Go to hell!” cried Cain in a raspy voice, as though his throat were filled with blood. But he didn’t get up. Instead, he started crying, wailing sobs and pounding his forehead into the floor. “You’ve ruined it all! I loved her. I loved her! You ruined everything.”
Seth took another breath and, half standing, edged his way to his brother’s side. Lifting Cain’s arm over his shoulder, he got him to his feet. Cain said nothing, his body limp and useless.
“Destabilization in two minutes,” announced the ship.
Seth placed Cain inside the pod. “We’ll take this one together. There’s not enough time to prepare another.” He typed his personal authorization code—everyone on the crew had one—and the latch began to shut.
“No!” shouted Cain, suddenly. He leapt from the seat, knocking Seth into the pod. The door began to close, shutting him inside.
“Cain!” screamed Seth, but it was too late. The latch was too far closed, and it couldn’t be reopened. He banged on the glass, shouting his brother’s name. “Cain, you bastard!”
Cain stood there, staring through the window, watching as the pod moved into position, preparing to eject. A force-field replaced the part where the pod had been, and Cain watched from behind it, a vacant expression on his face.
“Destabilization in sixty seconds,” announced the com from inside the pod.
Seth grabbed the com. By default, the pod�
��s system should be linked to the local docking bay. “Cain!” he yelled into the console. “Run! Get to a pod!”
His brother flinched, blinking, as though he’d heard something, and he looked to his left, and back at Seth. In a flash, Cain began to run, moving to the second pod, but in that moment Seth lost his view of the Eden, and soon he faced the planet below.
“Destabilization in fifteen seconds,” announced the computer. “Ten seconds.”
Seth held onto the glass, pressing his face against it, trying to see the ship.
“Four. Three. Two.” The ship was nearly out of sight. He could almost—
“One.”
The Eden burst into a wave of red and yellow flame, like an ocean of fire in the sky. “No!” screamed Seth, grasping at the glass as the exploding ship left his view.
The pod aimed itself toward the planet, and the warning light overhead appeared. The pod shook and jolted, pummeling him from side-to-side until he finally managed to grab hold of a handle and pull himself down into the seat. He connected the chest straps and held on with all his strength as the pod entered the planet’s atmosphere.
As the vessel continued to shake, Seth watched through the glass as a trail of plasma formed against the glass, a slew of colors dancing between the darkness of the void and the vivid blue of the oceans beneath him. Spastic and violent, the colors swirled and exploded—first in shades of orange and red, then a litany of purple, bending and colliding, as though the whole thing were alive. Finally, the light transformed into the brightest shade of yellow, resembling the nearby sun.
As the pod fell towards the ground, the details of the planet magnified and grew. Dots of blue became lakes, ridges evolved into mountains, and flakes of green grew into endless forests and valleys.
Somewhere far above the ground, Seth’s pod released its landing gear, and soon his descent slowed.
He waited and watched, wondering who else had made it…who among the crew had survived. Maybe he was the only one. Maybe they were all gone. What if Lilith wasn’t lying? he asked himself. Azura, please be alive.
The pod’s hatch cracked open in a lake, facing the sky. Shades of cerulean blue shined through the glass, and Seth found himself staring, half-dazed. It had been seven long years since he’d last seen a color this clear that wasn’t projected on a screen.
He gripped the release handle and pulled. The hatch immediately snapped open, detaching itself from the pod and falling into the water. He started to climb out, but remembered the emergency pack under the seat. He’d need it to contact the other survivors.
With the pack tied to his wrist, Seth dived into the water, cold as it was, without hesitation. He swam to the nearby shore, gripping clumps of sand in his hands, dirtying his clothes. He didn’t care. All that mattered was finding the others. Finding Azura and the rest of his family.
He opened the emergency pack and took the mobile radio from among the remaining supplies. With shaking hands, he flipped the transmitter on, and waited.
Static.
He held the transmit button. “This is security officer Seth Kadmon, please respond.”
More static.
“I say again: this is officer Seth Kadmon of the Eden. Is anyone there?”
Garbled gibberish resembling words erupted from the speaker, interwoven with bursts of static.
“Please say again,” said Seth. “I hear you, but you’re breaking up.”
“…th…tune…quency…0202...”
“One more time, please. I nearly had you.”
“…tune to…102023…better frequency…”
Good enough, he thought. Seth did as the voice requested. “Hello? Can you hear me now?”
“Yes, you’re coming in,” said the voice. “Who’s speaking?”
“Seth Kadmon, chief security officer.”
“Oh my God. Sir, it’s your son!” said the stranger.
“Where are you? I need coordinates,” said Seth.
“Seth! It’s your father. Are you alright?” asked Adam, taking over for the other man. “Are you safe?”
A bit of relief. At least his father was alive. “I’m good. What’s your location?”
A short pause. “We’re near a mountain. Give me a minute and I’ll send you the coordinates. It’s so good to hear your voice, son.”
He watched the numbers come in on the device’s screen. When it finally finished, he got to his feet and started walking. According to the readout, the others were less than an hour away. He’d move as quickly as the land would allow. With any luck, he’d find the rest of his family there, too.
Seth made his way through a small forest and climbed along a ridge to get to the other survivors. When he arrived, he found a crowd of them. There were over a hundred, at least.
Seeing him emerge from the tree line, someone called to Adam. “We’ve got another crewmate!”
Adam stood in the center of the group, issuing orders. He pushed one of them aside and looked with widened eyes. “Seth!” he shouted before dashing towards his son.
Seth ran to him, despite how tired his legs were, and hugged his father tight. Adam squeezed him, kissing his hair. “My boy! My boy!” he cried, letting loose a stream of tears. “My dearest boy is alive!”
“Seth!” called a woman from behind. It was his mother, running through the grass towards them. “Oh, my goodness. You’re here! You’re here!” Together, the three of them embraced.
“I’m glad you’re both safe,” he said, kissing his mother’s cheek. “But where are the others? Where are Uriel and Azura?”
“We’re all here, together. All but you and Cain,” said Eve, frowning. “Please tell me you saw your brother get away.”
Seth hesitated. “I didn’t see what happened to him,” he said, partially lying. He couldn’t bear to tell her the truth. He was certain he never would. His brother had died aboard the ship, killed by his own stubbornness. His own madness. But telling his parents the truth would do nothing for them.
“We’ll keep looking,” said Adam to his wife. “Don’t worry.”
“Seth?” called someone from the crowd.
He looked over his mother’s shoulder, trying to see who it was. Two young women appeared. Uriel and Azura. They both smiled and ran to join the family.
Azura fell into his arms, hugging him tighter than she ever had. The wind blew her hair into his face, and she kissed his neck a dozen times. “I knew you were safe,” she told him, happily. “Somehow I knew.”
Seth took her by the waist and looked into her eyes. The same eyes he’d seen on Fiore when Adam had brought her to the farm. The only eyes he ever wanted to see.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, staring into her.
She touched his cheek. “You came back to me,” she whispered.
Suddenly, he was crying, tears flowing out of him like water from a spring. “I love you forever,” he finally said. “I always will. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you. I’m sorry I—”
And that was when she kissed him, hard and openly, as though for the very first time, for all the world to see.
Epilogue
Cain opened his eyes.
His skull ached with blinding pain. He glanced around the pod, trying to focus, but found it difficult to see through the haze. He was dizzy and sick, his entire body aching.
The last thing he remembered was shutting the hatch and pressing the ignition switch. Everything else was a blank.
He must have blacked out from the explosion on the ship or possibly when he entered the atmosphere. Not everyone could handle re-entry. The process did a number on the human body, depending on the passenger. Cain had only ever taken shuttles, which were slow and easy. Not like a pod, which was fast and brutal, or so he had read. Since he’d slept for most of the ride, he’d probably never know.
He drifted back to sleep here and there, still strapped to the chair, fading in and out of consciousness. The light came and went, a
nd soon the night arrived, and he slept through most of it.
When the new day came, his headache had nearly gone. He stretched his arms, cracking his back, ignoring the pain of his singed skin as best he could. He’d treat his wounds later using the medical supplies in the pod’s kit, but not yet. Right now, he had to move.
When he had the hatch open, Cain emerged into a destroyed landscape. He had apparently landed in the woods, tearing a line through the trees, smashing them apart and scattering the wood. Many of the stumps had been charred and blackened by his arrival. The earth beneath poured smoke into the air, and the grass and leaves were little more than ash. He wondered how long the fire had raged here before finally calming. Had he slept through all of it?
Cain opened the supplies kit and found a portable radio transmitter. He considered using it to call for help, but who would have him now? His father would kill him if he found him, probably with a smile. No, he thought, letting go of the device, watching as it fell into the ash beneath his feet. I’m on my own now.
He walked, leaving the pod behind, heading deeper into the wild forest. Whatever happened next would be on his own terms. He would hurt no one but himself.
He would never stop moving, no place to rest, no home to call his own. The world was all before him, and he would bury himself in it, content at whatever fate remained.
His life was over now, the shackles broken and torn.
Here, at last, across the sea of space, the eldest son of Adam was finally free.
The Amber Project Preview
Chapter 1
Documents of Historical, Scientific, and Cultural Significance
Play Audio Transmission File 021
Recorded April 19, 2157
CARTWRIGHT: This is Lieutenant Colonel Felix Cartwright. It’s been a week since my last transmission and two months since the day we found the city…the day the world fell apart. If anyone can hear this, please respond.
