by Aaron Hubble
The slender woman leaned on her desk and stared into Bobby’s eyes. “There’s too much emotion behind this to put you on the team. I’m afraid you’ll make a rash decision.”
Bobby pushed forward, his voice beginning to rise. “Every person in this building has a vendetta against Dumas. That sack of crap took something from all of us. I’d like to meet this person you think you’ll find who can guarantee you they won’t make an emotional decision once they’re face-to-face with Charles Dumas.” He took a deep breath and tried to control his emotions. “I don’t want to do this without your consent, but I will.”
Noni searched his face, looking for a way to keep him in Sydney and then finally resigning herself to the facts. He wasn’t going to miss this mission. “Okay, but you have to promise me you won’t put yourself or the rest of team in undue jeopardy. This man still has a sizable force of well-trained men protecting him.”
“I will, and thank you.”
“It’s against my better judgment, and I’m sure I’ll need to explain myself to your wife.”
Bobby grimaced. “She won’t be happy.”
Charles stood as well. “So, when do we leave?”
“You’re not going,” Bobby said.
“Right. That’s a good one.” He looked at Noni and hooked his thumb toward Bobby. “Always joking, this one.”
Noni arched her eyebrows. “Charles would be an asset on the mission.”
“And I can keep you in line,” Charles said.
Bobby looked at his friend. “Fine. You can come along, provided you stay out of trouble.”
“How boring,” Charles said.
A thin smile formed on Noni’s lips. “The crew leaves at 1800 hours to utilize the dark while they’re traveling. If you’re going, you need to get packed, gentlemen.”
Bobby and Charles nodded and turned to leave the office.
“Don’t get yourself killed. It would really mess up my plans,” Noni said.
“No worries,” Charles said over his shoulder. “The dynamic duo is unstoppable.”
They exited the office and walked through the strategy room.
“Dynamic duo?” Bobby said to Charles.
Charles shrugged. “Sounded better than Terrific Twosome.”
****
Bobby heard the door of the apartment close quietly. Stuffing a shirt into his small bag, he steeled himself for what he knew would be an unpleasant exchange with his wife.
“Bobby? Are you here?” Samantha’s voice came from the kitchen.
“In the bedroom,” he said.
“Luke and I scored some fresh vegetables. I thought they would be good over pasta with a little oil.” Bobby heard the sound of pans clanging together and then running water. They were domestic sounds that Bobby enjoyed to the deepest part of his soul. That was part of why it was so hard to do this to her.
Samantha’s face appeared around the edge of the doorframe, her brown hair pulled back into a messy bun. “I thought we could go for a walk after dinner. What do you think…” The wide smile that had graced her beautiful face disappeared, and Samantha stepped fully into the room and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you packing a bag?”
Bobby slowly approached Samantha, gently reaching out to caress her arms. “Before you say anything, I want you to know this was hard for me.”
“Really? Because it feels like spending time with your family is the hard choice, and running away to another mission is the easy one,” Samantha said as her eyes began to fill with tears.
“This is an important one, Sam. One that could give us information we need. Information which could end this fight much sooner than we anticipated.” He pulled her into a hug. She remained impassive, arms still folded. “I need to go on this one, Sam.”
“You need to be here with your family.”
“I know I do, but I also need to be there. I can’t be in two places at once. You knew that when you married me, knew my job would take me away. Right now, the mission of R3 and I are one entity. We can’t be separated. I’ve got to go.”
Samantha looked away from him, fighting her emotions. “I know. It’s just that sometimes I think there will come a time when you’re in the middle of a fight, if you’re presented with the choice between coming back to us or sacrificing yourself for the mission, you’ll choose the mission over us.” She brushed the tears off her cheek. “You need to understand, if you don’t come back, it will crush me. I have no family. They all died, either in front of me or because they were trying to rescue me. Don’t make me a widow. Don’t let your son grow up without a father. He needs you.” She looked into his eyes, pleading. “Stay here.”
Bobby turned quickly. If he didn’t, his resolve would crumble. He returned to the bag and zipped it up. Staring at it, Bobby set his jaw. He hated what he had to do, but it was the only way he would be able to walk out the apartment door. Without turning off his emotions and compartmentalizing them, he would fall to pieces and never leave the apartment again. That wasn’t an option for a resistance fighter.
“I’m leaving. My transport takes off in an hour. When the mission is over I’ll send a communication back.” Bobby slung the pack over one shoulder and walked past her. Samantha still stood with crossed arms staring at the bed. He stopped in the doorway. “I love you, Sam. Never doubt that.”
Setting his face, he walked to the door and left the apartment. In his mind he began to go over the mission parameters, running through the possible scenarios. It was the only way he could keep himself from breaking down and running back into the arms of his wife.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Aereas - Alam, Ma’Ha’Nae city under Lake Keali
Calier hurried through the command hub hallways on his way to Jondon’s office. The commander’s message said he had something to discuss, but he didn’t elaborate. A dark shape shot out of a corridor just as he passed and slammed into him. Calier was thrown off balance and almost crashed into the opposite wall before strong hands wrapped around his flailing arm and stopped him from tumbling.
“Whoa! That was close.”
Calier got his feet back under him and looked at Maltoki’s familiar face. The young sentinel wore a broad grin and was dressed in his green sentinel jacket and fatigues. The ever present sidearm was strapped to his hip.
“Maltoki.” Calier wrapped him in a hug. “Good to see you, son. What are you doing here?”
He tugged at his jacket. “Jondon called me in for a meeting. You?”
“The same.”
“Intriguing. Come on,” he said, nodding in the direction of the commander’s office. “It’ll be nice not to be the only one late this time.”
Calier grinned and dropped in beside the young man. “Any idea what the meeting is about?”
Maltoki shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope it’s about a mission, but it will probably be some boring procedural meeting.”
They rounded the corner and walked through the open door into Jondon’s office. Ammaya and Denar were already seated in front of the desk. Two unoccupied chairs sat just to the side.
Jondon stood and offered his hand first to Calier and then Maltoki before gesturing to the chairs.
“Wow, this meeting is drawing only the most fashionable people,” Maltoki quipped.
“Still trying to figure out why you’re here,” Denar said, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his tone flat.
“I love you too, Denar.”
“Alright, as entertaining as this witty banter is, we actually have something important to discuss,” Jondon said. “Ammaya and I have been talking over the latest plan you proposed about sending a reconnaissance team into Homa. Ammaya’s convinced me it’s a good idea and one we should initiate.”
At first, Calier wasn’t sure if he’d heard the commander right. Every other plan he’d proposed had been shot down as too risky. His spirit soared within him. Finally, movement toward finding Berit.
Jondon continued. “It’s a risky plan, but we do n
eed to begin taking steps toward being on the offensive and we need information to do that. I want you to lead in making a concrete plan of how the team will get into Homa, and what they will need to do once they’re in. Be thorough and consider every scenario. I don’t want anything to get by us. Make suggestions for who you want on the team and then put together a group that you’ll work with here in the hub once the team is out in the field—”
“Wait.” Calier held up his hand. “I’m not going with the team?”
Jondon shook his head. “No. You’re most valuable here, in the hub. I wouldn’t feel right about putting you in the field without the proper training.”
“Then train me.” Calier could feel the heat in his face rising. This was a fight he would drag out to the bitter end. “I’m not letting you go into Homa without me. I know those tunnels and the pictographs which will lead us through them. The knowledge I have about the city would only be a benefit to the team. Who else do you have that could help in the city the way I can?”
The commander studied Calier. There was a moment of heavy silence in the small office before Jondon spoke. “It was my call. I felt you had too much riding on this personally. It’s admirable that you are committed to finding the woman you lost in the forest, but I’m afraid you might lose sight of the mission in your personal pursuit to bring her back. I want you to teach Maltoki what the pictographs mean so he can lead the team through the tunnels.”
Calier leaned forward and took a deep breath. Getting worked up wouldn’t do anything to help his case. “We all have a lot riding on this mission. It’s important. Maltoki is more than capable of learning this, but it will take weeks for him to grasp the nuances; I already know them. We can’t wait weeks. Ammaya’s team barely made it away from the mine. The humans know we’re out here, somewhere. They won’t stop looking until they find us. Time is slipping away. I need to be part of the team. Don’t take this from me.”
Jondon looked down at his hands. Calier could see many decisions weighing on Jondon. Lines of worry were etched into his forehead. He didn’t envy the man, but he also wasn’t going to let up just because Jondon’s job was tough. He needed to be on the team. For Berit, for Alam, for Aereas.
The commander looked up from his hands “Can you put Aereas, Alam, and all the rest of the Am’Segid in front of this woman? Can I count on you to sacrifice what you want for what is best for our people?”
Calier held Jondon’s steely eyes. “I can.”
Jondon sighed. “Okay, you can go, but if you get yourself killed, it’s on your own head.”
Calier sank back into his chair. He covered his face with his hands and let out a long breath. One step closer to finding Berit. He moved his hands away face and saw Jondon pointing at him.
Calier smiled. “Understood. And, thank you.”
Jondon looked at the rest of the team. “As the professor has so eloquently reminded us, time is short so you three need to get to work right away. Professor, you are to report directly to the human woman’s quarters for a crash course in her language. See what you can pick up. You leave in three weeks. Dismissed”
Ammaya and Maltoki exited the office followed by Denar. He slapped Calier on the shoulder as he moved past.
“Welcome to the team. We’ll try not to let you get killed.”
Only then did the feeling hit Calier.
What had he just volunteered himself for?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Aereas - Human base in Homa former Am’Segid great city
A small mountain of food wrappers were piled on the left side of Cullen’s work station. It was highly likely he’d used up a whole month’s worth of snack rations in the two days since he’d undertaken his father’s pet project. At first, he’d felt guilty for shirking off his regular duties to another tech, but once he’d begun to dive deeply into the ocean of information now at his fingertips, he hadn’t thought of anything else.
Standing from his chair, Cullen stretched his arms over his head and moved a little just to get his blood flowing again. He thought he caught a whiff of his own body odor. That was a bad sign.
When was the last time he’d showered?
He was chasing the rabbit, and it had led him straight down the hole. The thought of heading back to his room and taking a shower did appeal to him, but the information floating above his desktop was so alluring. To him it was a drug that had taken hold of his mind and wouldn’t let go. Cullen was an information junkie and his next fix was sitting right in front of him, calling his name.
The shower could wait.
Sufficiently stretched, Cullen slid back into the chair, and like a starving man who’d had a steak placed in front of him, began devouring the information once again. It was hard to stay on task. He was supposed to be searching for a group called the Ma’Ha’Nae, but the Am’Segid had done such an excellent job preserving their long and rich history that he found himself constantly swerving off into different lanes.
“Jane?”
“Yes, Cullen?” the computer’s female voice responded.
“Will you do another search for Ma’Ha’Nae? This time include the name specifically and any information pertaining to a lost group of people, or a tribe which disappeared. Something along those lines,” Cullen asked.
“Yes, Cullen. The search will take approximately thirty-seven minutes due to its size and scope.”
Cullen smiled. “That’s fine. I have a lot to read while you’re searching. Go ahead and get started.”
So far his searches hadn’t pulled up anything on the mysterious group, but he’d confirmed the CPF’s warnings about this race of people. The Am’Segid were bloodthirsty warriors who’d spent millennia trying to kill each other off, using ever more complex and cruel methods with each passing decade. The original group of settlers had grown and then splintered, establishing the twelve major cities, which through hard work on several men’s parts were able to forge an alliance. It was short-lived, however, as jealousy and the desire for more land and power corrupted any good intentions they might have had. An arms race had ensued, and for thousands of years these people had killed and murdered each other with one city rising to power for a few decades or a hundred years only to crumble from the inside and be subjugated by another city. The cycle had repeated itself over and over.
It wasn’t hard to see that these people would have done the same to Earth. Their technology certainly was advanced enough that traveling across vast distances of space was just a minor obstacle they could soon overcome. Just as the Continental Peace Federation was putting Earth back together, reestablishing a working government, the Am’Segid could have swooped in and taken it all away, plunging Earth into a chaos which would rival the days when the plague had raged and nations had warred over the few available resources.
This preemptive strike that they were involved in, the Farpointe Initiative, had been the correct call. In his heart, Cullen felt a swell of pride to be a part of the CPF and for his father, who was coordinating this bold and brave move by the human race.
After several minutes of reading, the words in front of him began to blur. Cullen caught his head bobbing as sleep began to force itself on him. Rubbing his eyes, he looked at the time in the corner of the holo-window, 0217. No wonder he was nodding off. He had been awake for nearly twenty-three hours. Jane still had fifteen minutes of work before her search would be done. He laid his head down on the desk and closed his eyes.
****
Cullen’s eyes fluttered open. He sat up in his desk chair and was immediately greeted by a sharp pain at the back of the neck. Groaning, he massaged the knot, then glanced at the time and saw that three hours had passed. Shocked he’d slept so long, he woke his holo-screen from its sleep mode. Cullen ran his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the fog.
“Hey, Jane? What’s the status of your search?”
“The search is complete. Did you enjoy your rest, Cullen?”
Cullen yawned and stretched.
“Sort of. I’m not sure it did me much good.”
Rummaging in a drawer under his work station, he pushed aside various random cables and spare electronic parts in search of his secret stash. His hand touched several vials and he pulled one from the drawer. The bottle held a potent mixture of stimulants. After he’d emptied the contents of the vial into his water bottle, he shook the concoction and watched the powder dissolve into the water. He took a long drink and almost immediately felt his mind awaken and his concentration sharpen. Technically the stimulants were only for the soldiers, to keep them awake during long missions, but he’d found the supply clerk had an affinity for chocolate and was willing to do a little black market trade for his creamy brown vice.
“Let’s see what you found,” Cullen said.
Images appeared before him, representing three files. “I have isolated these three files. They most closely match your search parameters.”
Cullen gestured at the first and it opened, revealing several pictures and a block of text. It was about a youth group who’d gone on a nature expedition. The group had been caught outside in a horrendous storm. They’d unfortunately camped near a river that quickly flooded and washed everything within a quarter mile of its banks out to sea. No traces of them were ever found.
That wasn’t what he was looking for.
The second file contained several smaller files, all detailing missing person accounts. They ranged from children who’d wandered away from their parents, love-struck teenagers who’d ran away from home and individuals who’d simply disappeared, most of them under questionable circumstances, since their associations pointed to criminal activity. Again, not the kind of mysterious disappearances meriting deeper investigation.
The final file was a scholarly article Jane had translated for him. It had been written by a Professor Calier who’d taught at the university in Gadol City. Cullen was unsure which city that was, but it didn’t matter now. The subject of the report was the mysterious disappearance of a significant number of influential people during the middle of something called the Brink War. The professor had very little actual evidence; most of the article was speculation. What evidence he did have pointed to an exodus of sorts by a group of people hoping to save what was left of their culture. They’d believed that the Am’Segid were on the verge of annihilating each other and this group had taken it upon themselves to hold on to what was good about their people. No numbers were cited in the article, but the author did say that several thousand people had been reported missing over a period of three years. No traces were ever found of those who’d disappeared; they’d simply dropped off the map. The professor speculated they’d either taken refuge in a natural shelter in Sho’el Forest or had secretly built a hideaway. If indeed the Ma’Ha’Nae were more than a legend and at one time had been real people who’d separated themselves from their culture, the professor believed they were long dead, that they had succumbed to disease, hunger or the perils of Sho’el Forest. The professor ended the article by lamenting their loss on the verge of the Great Peace and the ascension of the Am’Segid from a brutal warring people to a period of peace and mutual cooperation.
