The Veil Rising

by Brandon Ellis

  “My name is Devon Gray—” another bash echoed across the office, causing Devon to stop for a moment. He swallowed hard, seeing that the crack in the door was now much wider.

  He took a deep breath, his palms clammy. “My name is Devon Gray, and if you're watching this right now I may be dead in a minute or two, so pay close attention. This isn't a movie or a TV show. I'm one of Savanna Levens' techies. Just so you're certain, I'm the techie for the Overseer of Sphere 6—that Savanna Levens. Tomorrow, I may be found dead here, in her office, or I will have gone missing.

  “I have found major documents that I intercepted from Zim's HDC, stating that we are all going to be killed in two weeks with a toxin known as batrachotoxin. It will be released into our water supply and into the air we breathe through the filtration systems. I don't know how quickly it kills, but I do know that it does kill.” He didn't know if that's exactly what it did, but it wasn't a tough guess.

  “We have to revolt against the Prime Director because he is the one responsible for the attack, not Admiral Byrd. Zim is part of some type of overall plan that failed and we were supposed to be wiped out a couple of days ago, but something backfired. What it was that backfired, I don't know. Plan B is now in effect and they are going to poison us all with batrachotoxin.”

  He rubbed his eyes. “Please, this is not a joke. I'm risking my life. The documents also state that—”

  The door completely crumpled and shattered with bits and slabs of ebb scattering all over the floor, a cloud of dust forming in front of the doorway and concealing whoever it was on the other side. Devon dove under the desk and held his breath. Phaser fire riddled the room, penetrating walls, the desk, and the large biosphere window, shattering it.

  The window. It was only three steps away from the desk, and then it was only two stories down to the biosphere's forest floor. If he moved fast, he could jump out of the window and land on the grass, then run and hide in the forest about fifty yards away. He looked down at his hands that were still holding some papers.

  “Did we get him?” queried a gruff voice. Then Devon heard someone crunching over the debris with their boots.

  Devon shoved the papers down his pants, making a crumpling sound.

  “I heard something…he's still alive!” shouted someone else. “This is Matrona Guard—do not move!”

  Devon dashed forward through the now windowless frame, his legs and arms windmilling as he fell to the ground hard and heard a pop in his knee. He tried to get up, but fell back down as pain pierced through the interior of his knee cap, pain so intense that he had to gag and fight the urge to vomit.

  Then a bolt of phaser fire hit the grass next to his hand, creating a small flame with just a wisp of smoke rising in the air as he pushed forward, hopping and hobbling toward the forest. More fire rained down on him, with a bolt hitting his hip and another catching the back of his upper leg, knocking him face down. He cried out in agony, but through sheer willpower and adrenaline, he got back up, staggering onward. The trees were much closer than he had thought, and now only a couple of arms lengths away.

  “Agh!” he yelled out as another bolt hit him square on the calf of his already damaged leg. It burned like fire and blood flowed down his leg, drenching his sock and shoe by the time he reached a tree that he hid behind, leaning his back into it and gulping for air as he watched streaks of phaser fire zip past him. Then he heard loud footsteps and voices coming his way. Sweating profusely and wracked with pain, he was barely able to peek around the tree, quickly counting a dozen Guard firing their phasers up at the office he had just jumped from, while others were running toward him.

  He closed his eyes, knowing he was about to die. If he pleaded, maybe he could talk them out of it by convincing them that Zim was a tyrant and a traitor, someone intent on killing the whole of the human race, which probably included the Matrona Guard.

  He reached into his pants and pulled out the papers, feebly holding them up like a white flag of surrender. Maybe after he was shot to death one of the guards would read this, believing what it said. Maybe then the human race could somehow survive.

  “Put down your arm!” shouted a man wearing a Guard's outfit. He stood with his back to Devon with his gun pointed toward the office above. The guard took a step back and pushed Devon's arm down, then placed a hand on Devon's head, patting it like his dad used to do. “We got here in the nick of time. I'm Sergeant Manning.”

  “What?”

  Ten more guards ran past Devon, hiding behind trees to shoot at the office. Another man moved by Devon, pulling someone who was either unconscious or dead. “Able's down, Sergeant!”

  “Dammit!” The sergeant retaliated by pointing his phaser at the office, discharging repeated rounds of fire. Then he flicked his head toward Devon. “Get him to the PI, now!”

  Political Infirmary? Why would I go there? That was only for politicians and celebrities in the biosphere. He'd never been inside of it because he was anything but a celebrity status, and was definitely not a politician. But, before he could ask any questions, another guard grabbed him and threw him over his shoulder as he yelled, “Cover me!”

  The guards took aim and fired away, providing no opportunity for return fire.

  Devon’s guard ran fast, as if carrying a baby on his shoulder instead of a full grown man. Devon bounced up and down, watching the man's boots clomping on dirt and ferns, stomping through shrubs and dodging trees.

  “They have reinforcements—there are more coming!” Devon heard off in the distance, recognizing the sergeant's voice.

  Devon felt something in his hand, and when he looked he was delightfully astonished. The papers were still there, locked by his grip. He smiled. These would be convenient, once he got these into the right hands. Admiral Byrd would be cleared and Zim Nocki would be thrown in jail, and no telling what else could happen.

  Several guards ran past him, toward phaser fire coming from the direction of the building he had just fled. More and more ran by, until it seemed like an endless stream moving fast with their guns leveled, ready to shoot.

  Then his eye caught a small yellow insignia on the back of the armored vests worn by the guards running toward the building. It was a yellow thunderbolt inside of a wheel—the insignia of the Taranis Guard, not the Matrona Guard. Then he looked down at the vest of the guard carrying him, and to his surprise it wasn't a picture of a mother holding a child—the insignia of the Matrona Guard. It was a white spear inside of the globe of Lumus, so the guard carrying him was a member of the Brigantia Guard.

  Why were the Taranis and Brigantia Guard fighting the Matrona Guard? What was going on? At first he was deciphering how everyone was going to be killed and now he was in the middle of a civil war? Why me? Why was he so important that he needed to be rescued like this? What was going on?

  ∞

  “Chase is where?” Admiral James Byrd pounded his fist on the wall beside his bed. The admiral looked at the clock on the HDC screen that read 1:17 am. He rubbed his face, trying to eradicate the sleep out of his system.

  Captain Louise Stripe stood near the door, arms crossed with one leg extended in front of the other. “He's in the biosphere Political Infirmary receiving medical care.”

  Admiral Byrd's nostrils flared. “Get him to our ship!” The admiral stood, slowly walking toward Louise, his eyes smoldering with anger. “He almost got assassinated!”

  “I assure you, James, I tried to get him out. He is—” she had to stop. The guards outside the cell door were most likely trying to hear everything she and the admiral were discussing. “Stan and I are trying to figure out what to do.” That's all she could tell him, even though a plan had already been implemented.

  The admiral stopped pacing and looked down, crossing his arms. He shook his head. There was no one to trust, not even Louise. “Admiral Jenkyns? That weasel? Trusting him is not only stupid, it's insane, Louise!”

  Louise was shocked. The admiral had never spoken to her in this manner. Upo
n occasion, he'd been blunt, but was always respectful of her judgment, and cognizant of her abilities. “James, I believe Admiral Jenkyns is on our side.”

  “Jenkyns doesn't know what side he's on...!” snapped the admiral, who took a deep breath, disappointed with his captain. “I'm sorry, Louise. You must go.” He turned, swiping the air with a hand, indicating that the conversation was over. “Leave! What's done is done.”

  The admiral sat down on his bed, coldly averting his eyes from hers. “I said to leave, Captain.” He lay back down, placing his hands over his eyes, rubbing his eyelids.

  Louise turned and knocked on the cell door. Before it opened, she glanced over her shoulder. “Chase found something.”

  Admiral Byrd bolted upright, his interest clearly piqued, but it was too late. Louise was already halfway out the door and he watched her back disappear, then heard her boots hitting the floor as she walked down the darkened hallway. The door slammed shut and a sound buzzed, locking the door.

  He lay back down, staring up at the gray ceiling made out of ebb, with its little nuggets of red and black specks in it. He was wide awake and wouldn't be able to get any sleep now, especially with the knowledge that a member of his family was seriously injured, and had narrowly escaped death by assassination on his behalf.

  There was nothing he could do to stop obsessing about the current state of affairs, except maybe count the specks in the ceiling or watch the holovid, so he glanced at the HDC. “On.” The screen blipped on but it was the news again, with a scene of himself smiling at the camera and wearing his full regulation uniform with all of its bells and whistles. The news was in the middle of doing a piece about him, and since it was now 1:26 am, this had to be a re-run from yesterday, probably the only one he hadn't yet seen about himself.

  What other lies are they going to tell about me, now?

  “...had a dark side. His great grandfather, renowned for his undefeated record as a starfighter pilot in the annual Star Guild Games, was Admiral Rodrick Byrd. His Grandfather, Admiral Shae Byrd, was the longest tenured admiral in the history of Star Guild. The son of Admiral Patrick Byrd and Doris, Admiral James Byrd was descended from a prestigious line of Star Guild admirals, all passed long ago, never knowing what treachery their own bloodline would later perpetrate against the entire human race.” A picture of Louise appeared. “And, if not for Captain Louise Stripe, in addition to the efforts of Admiral Stanley Jenkyns, what we now know about Star Guild and Starbase Matrona would have been lost...forever.”

  The admiral rolled his eyes. This spectacle was a system of propaganda and he was just the scapegoat they needed, but for what? Why were they going to such great lengths to discredit him?

  He sighed, thinking of his childhood...his friends...the girl that got away... Savanna. Where is she? The Overseer of Sphere 6, Savanna Levens, his dearest friend throughout the years, must surely know about his incarceration, so why hasn't she come to visit? She couldn't have been involved in this sham. She was honorable, and someone he could trust with his life without hesitation. Had she been prevented from seeing him?

  His thoughts were interrupted when he heard something blare over the holovid. It was startling and peculiar.

  I lost the case?! What case?

  Staring at the holovid, he saw a man nicely dressed in a suit, a lesser political figure of some type, or maybe even a lawyer. “Admiral Byrd has plead guilty on all counts.”

  “I what?”

  The man continued, “He has since apologized and accepts any and all punishment.”

  “What is the punishment?” asked a man holding the camera.

  The nicely dressed man wiped his forehead and cleared his throat. “The penalty for treason is death.”

  The admiral's heart nearly stopped. He had already used all five of the allowable Suficell Pod sessions and, given his current age, he could only expect to live another thirty years or so, and he was okay with it. But now, it would seem that Death was knocking at his door a bit prematurely and he definitely wasn't okay with that. He stared at his tawny hands, observing the deep lines in his palms.

  “...he will be terminated by this time tomorrow.”

  Admiral Byrd didn't look up. This was yesterday's broadcast, so tomorrow was today. He knew the law and the punishment for treason, but it had never been exercised. He would be sent to a windowless room that would fill with carbon dioxide, making him drowsy until his life trickled away.

  A clank sounded in his cell and he looked down, knowing who it was—the Matrona Guard. They were probably here to prepare him for death or to take him to the gas room, or perhaps he could eat a last meal with Savanna? They surely would at least allow him that.

  It had been a good life, he thought. It had been busy and he had made admiral at a young age, beating all of his opponents by a large margin, which gained him an automatic officer's position after graduation. His first and only assignment had been Starship Brigantia where he had met Fleet Admiral Sune, his mentor. “Tardiness is the sign of a selfish man.” Admiral Sune had barked at him for being one minute late the first day they'd met. “Star Guild is not of that ilk...we are here to serve...Brigantia demands it. Got it?”

  Admiral Byrd felt a hand grab his wrist, yanking him back to the present. His arm was jerked behind his back, and then the other. “Come with me, Admiral.” A handcuff snapped snugly around each wrist.

  “We have a far stroll to stride to the gas chamber, Admiral.”

  The admiral glanced at the man. “You don't know what you're doing, son. I—,” but he stopped mid-sentence, thinking how oddly the man had just spoken. He was wearing a Matrona Guard uniform, with its boldly displayed insignia of a mother and child. Then the Guard winked, which astonished Admiral Byrd until he realized that it wasn't a Matrona Guard at all—it was Brigger!

  ∞

  Another robed figure with its face hidden walked past Eden. Besides Thomas Berard, she still hadn't seen anyone with their hood down. She wondered why. She wanted to walk up to one of them to introduce herself, but they seemed too shy, too wary, or it wasn't their custom. Maybe Thomas could explain.

  Where is he? She had assumed that he'd be here by now.

  For hours, she'd been waiting for Thomas on the porch of the dome where she had first awakened in this new world. She was barefoot, wearing a white robe, and sitting on a thick pillow holding the dragon crystal he'd given her. For entertainment, she watched people walking by on a wide path in front of her dome and studied the palm tree sprinkled hills beyond the path.

  She smiled when another robed person passed by, then frowned and sighed. This one was especially tall and Eden's mouth and cheeks were aching from all of the smiling. She stared at the hills, watching the trees wave at her because of occasional breezes that also made the heat of the day quite pleasant.

  It seemed like just another sunny day in paradise. But, aside from the breezes, it was difficult getting used to so much heat without any devices to cool. Heat had never been an issue where she used to live, nor was the cold. Everything on the starbase and ships seemed to remain about the same temperature year round. Then she suddenly realized that it was something she'd never really thought about. It was something she'd just taken for granted, which she thought was interesting.

  Then Eden lifted her hand to wave at yet another robed figure, but dropped it by her side. She decided it was of no use because they'd simply ignore her, masked and hidden underneath their hoods.

  She closed her eyes and leaned back, resting the back of her head against the glassy structure of her domicile. She enjoyed the contrast between the coolness against her backside and the warmth from the dragon's crystal she held in her hands.

  I'm calling them all Jesse. Since she couldn't determine the gender of the robed figures, Eden felt that a unisex name would be more appropriate. She chortled at the thought.

  “Hey, Jesse!” she called to the next one walking by, but then she stiffened. This one stopped and looked at her. Its face was also con
cealed by a big hood hanging down, but then it nodded. Eden leaned forward a bit nervously, then stood as it approached. The hands rose to lift its hood, but it was only Thomas.

  He strolled over and sat down next to her. “Why the glum face?” Not waiting for a response, he winked and said with a smile, “My name's not Jesse, just in case you forgot.”

  She made a pouty expression as she shook her head and said, “No, no, I'm fine. And I'm calling everyone Jesse.”

  He gave her an odd look. “Why? There's no one here with that name.”

  “No one here talks. No one here wants to give me the time of day, either. And since no one will talk to or even greet me, then I have no way of knowing their names or gender, so everyone's name is now Jesse.”

  Thomas smiled. “Ah. I see.” He bowed. “Then Jesse befits me.”

  Eden waved her hand toward the path in front of her. “Why do they hide?”

  “For your well being, Eden.”

  Her lower lip puffed out. “Why hide from me?”

  “You've led a sheltered life, in the sense that you've never seen races other than your own.”

  In jest, Eden's eyes got big and round as she pulled the back of her hand over her mouth, tilted her head and said in mock horror, “O-oh, are they scary?”

  “They're beautiful, Eden, so very beautiful. But to you, they're foreign. You'll be introduced to them soon enough, but not until we feel that you're ready.” He stood up. “Come with me.”

  “Where?” asked Eden. Thomas had been showing her around ever since she'd arrived on Aurora. He showed her a fountain named 'Eden', then took her to another place to see a statue of a man holding a trident—Atlas. Next to him, there was an incredibly large crystal embedded in the ground that she liked because it was gorgeous and, by the way it was explained, energy emitted from the crystal powered the entire village.