Maranta

by Frank Carey

Tannith checked Doris's major and saw she was an M.D. It figured, the best doctors in the League were Alturan.

  Next through the door was Mykkl, their Security Officer in training. While the others were dressed casually, except for Doris who didn't dress, Mykkl was in full Security fatigues. Luckily, his weapons had been stored aboard ship. He walked in and sat down away from the others.

  "Man, his body language is screaming discomfort," Penny said as she peered over Tannith's shoulder.

  "He's Halcyon. They're still getting used to the idea of not being the only sapient race in the Galaxy."

  "Yeah, a lot of my people still have that problem," Jemtah said while watching Mykkl. "Hopefully, his feelings on the subject won't affect his work, or they'll wash him out for sure."

  The sound of hard wheels rolling on the deck broke their concentration. A young elf woman rolled in and shot past Mykkl before coming to an abrupt stop, flipping her board off the ground and catching it in midair. She then threw something to Mykkl with her tail. It was his ID tag. "Sorry, mate. Damn thing's got a mind of its own," she said with a smile.

  "Aerith has entered the building," Tannith said with a sigh.

  "Cool, two elves," Mauro said.

  "No, just one and a half," Aerith said as she plopped down in the chair beside him so he could see her eyes. They were human. "I prefer 'elfling'." Tannith face-palmed on that one, for “elfling” was a term of derision for some on both Ventos Prime and Earth.

  "Hey, I'm Mauro, cartographer and writer," he said while holding out his hand.

  "Aerith," she replied, taking his hand and giving it a good shake. "Cybernetics. Are these all the members of our group?" she asked while looking around the room.

  "You're the last one," Tannith said. She noticed Aerith's tail never stopped moving. It was like watching a snake performing a flamenco dance.

  Tannith got up and walked over to the podium at the end of the room. "Everyone, please take a seat," she said while she shuffled her papers. When the room quieted, she began her briefing. "My name is Tannith Aymar, and I'm the Mission Instructor. Behind me are Pilot Jemtah Bryr and Copilot Penelope Scott, the flight crew of the LRV Asgard, our transportation down to the planet's surface." An image of the planet they were orbiting appeared on the room's main viewscreen. "Maranta Five, an Earth-type planet in orbit around the main sequence star Maranta. Conditions are typical for this type of planet with the exception of having no sapient lifeforms." The image of the planet was replaced with one containing three p-bots—a flier, a quadruped, and a serpent. "Our mission is to go down and run field tests of the p-bots while collecting data about the area."

  "What about Mikey?" Aerith asked. "Why do we need a security guard on a cake walk mission?"

  "Standard operating procedure," Tannith replied, "which is why Doris is also coming along. It's SOP to bring security and medical personnel on every planet-side mission."

  "Anyway, we're going to need first aid when you poke someone's eye out," Mauro said while dodging Aerith's tail.

  Ignoring the banter, Tannith continued the briefing. "This is a simple seventy-two hour mission, the first of many you will experience while aboard the Tung'We." She passed out mission books. "Familiarize yourself with the mission, then let me know if you have any questions. We leave in an hour."

  Tannith left the podium and sat down at the table to collect some notes when Aerith sat down across from her, throwing her bare clawed feet up on the table.

  "Been a while, Auntie," the elfling said.

  "Through no fault of mine. If memory serves, you're the one who severed ties with our side of the family," Tannith said.

  "Both sides of the family, actually. I had a lot of things to sort out."

  "You do realize I don't share their views in any way. I want to be there for you, if you'd just let me."

  "Really? You don't believe I'm an abomination?"

  "Who said that?"

  "Your mother. It was when she and I first met. She made her feelings on the subject very clear."

  "As she often does, much to my continuing discomfort. I apologize, if it helps," Tannith replied with eyes filled with concern.

  "It doesn't, but thanks for trying. On a different subject, what's Mauro's story? His body temperature is off for a human."

  "You can sense that?"

  "Can't you?"

  "Yes, but..." Tannith stopped, kicking herself.

  "But you're a full-blood elf and I’m not?. Guess what? My elf side is dominant, so I have the tail, the claws, and the retinas, just not the pupils. I can tell he's running five degrees above normal and the patterns indicate his temperature is not due to a fever, so what's up?"

  "You know I can't say anything..."

  "Fine. I'll just ask him," Aerith said, standing up abruptly. "You only have to put up with me for another seventy-two hours. I'm surprised you actually approved my taking a slot on this trip. Why did you do that?"

  "Your academic record is flawless. You earned this slot. All other considerations are secondary," Tannith said.

  "When you look at me, what do you see?" Aerith asked.

  "Honestly?"

  "Honestly."

  "I see Harmon. You have a lot of your father in you. Damn, I miss him," Tannith said as she thought about her brother.

  "So do I. I think Mom does to, but she'll never admit it. Haven't seen her in months, by the way."

  "Special Ops duty is tough," Tannith said. She saw the look of shock on Aerith's face. "You'd be surprised at what I know, young elfling. Listen, I've got to finish this paperwork before we leave. Can we talk more when we're planet-side?"

  "Yeah. I'd like that," Aerith said as she grabbed her things and moved over to where Mauro was sitting.

  Poor Mauro. Aerith is on his trail, Tannith thought as she got back to her paperwork.

  Chapter Three

  Fourteen years prior to the Maranta Five Incident...

  Harmon sat in the bar and stared in his drink, his argument with Marta still ringing in his ears. On the table was the decree of divorce and the temporary restraining order Marta had gotten from a friendly judge, one who had no tolerance for smugglers or verbally abusive husbands.

  Harm picked up the glass and tried to drink, but it shook too badly.

  Tannith...

  The look on her face as Royce threw him out of the house.

  He was alone. Totally, absolutely, alone.

  Harmon pulled out his pistol and looked at it as he set it to annihilate. He realized that he had even hacked his weapon, so it could be set to eleven.

  Yet he couldn't hack his own mind.

  Time to end this miserable existence...

  "Hey, buddy. Don't do that. I need a place to stay."

  Harm looked up and saw... himself. He stood on the other side of the table, leaning down and grinning.

  "Who the hell are you?" Harm said as he continued to stare at the pistol.

  "I'm you, you moron. You're experiencing the elf version of dissociative identity disorder so you can deal with the stress of being alone. My name is Atmar, and I'm you."

  "I must be losing my mind," Harmon said while leaning back in his seat. He noticed a number of bar patrons watching him.

  "That pretty much sums it up. So, what now?"

  "What do you mean?" Harmon asked.

  "Are you going to off yourself with that hacked weapon—nice job, by the way—or are you going to let me take over?"

  "Take over?"

  "Yes, take over. You need to rest, and you need a friend. I can supply both, but I can't do that if you vaporize your skull. Keep in mind, I sleep there."

  Harm shut down the weapon and placed it on the table. He was tired, so damn tired. "If I do this, I need you to promise me a couple of things."

  "Name them," Atmar said as he leaned against the table and lit up a cigarette.

  "No smoking."

  "Fine," Atmar said as he flicked the cigarette toward the two cops who had walked into the bar and were ta
lking to the keep.

  "You will never contact any member of my family for any reason."

  "Got it, though Royce..."

  "Especially Royce!"

  "Fine. I agree. Anything else?"

  "You are never to bother Marta or Aerith. Ever. I’m dead as far as they are concerned."

  "Again, I agree."

  "Understand, I think I can take back control, and if you misbehave I will, and I will take care of both of us. Understand?"

  "I understand. I swear on a stack of Bibles and the Code of Smugglers that I will not stray from this agreement."

  "What do I have to do?" Harm asked as the cops strolled toward the table.

  "Fall asleep. I'll wake you when I need you."

  Harm lay his head on the table and quickly fell asleep.

  "Sir?" one of the cops asked as his partner ran a scanpad over Harm's body.

  "He's still alive," the partner said.

  "Of course I'm alive," Harm said as he raised his head and looked at the two cops. Oddly, he now had a British accent. "What can I do for you, officer?"

  "ID, please," the cop said as his partner stepped back, eying the weapon.

  Harmon handed the officer his ID and permit for the weapon.

  "Mr. Aymar, the keep and several patrons heard you talking to yourself. They were concerned."

  Harm looked over at the keep, twisted his head, and smiled. "That is so sweet. Forgive me, but I was practicing for a part in a local play. I must have gotten a little too deep into the role."

  The officer ran the ID through his scanpad. It came up clean. "Well, everything seems to be in order. Good luck with getting the part," the officer said as he and his partner headed to the exit.

  "Thank you, officer," Harm said as he gathered up his gun and walked over to the bar where he paid his bill and left a sizable tip, "the name is Atmar. Harmon Aymar has left the building."

  ###

  Twelve years prior to the Maranta Five Incident...

  It was past midnight when the break-in at the Morsi Laboratory Complex occurred. The moon had set, and the glow of Mt. Cerberus could be seen in the distance. It was a typical summer night on Tralaska.

  OffSec, military police, and local police covered the main building and nearby grounds, fanning out to find the person or persons responsible for robbing the weapons laboratory while leaving one of their own to die. Reports would later show that four people—an elf, two humans, and a Tralaskan—entered the top secret facility, broke into a safe, and made off with a flash drive containing access codes for several other facilities. During the robbery, one of the perps tripped an alarm which activated the building’s robotic defenses. During the ensuing melee, the Tralaskan—a woman—was fatally wounded.

  The medical examiner was jotting down notes on her clipboard when a tall, willowy Tralaskan woman walked up and asked, "My name is Lady Mitrell, where is my sister, Pressa?"

  "My lady," the examiner said as she flagged down the OffSec agent in charge, an Alturan.

  "Lady Mitrell, my name is Haskell. I’m in charge of the crime scene. My deepest condolences for your loss," Haskell said as she took Mitrell's hands in her tentacles and held them, the Alturan sign of respect and sorrow.

  "Thank you, Agent Haskell. Your sympathy is greatly appreciated. Now, where is my sister?"

  Haskell led her to a gurney with a bagged body sitting on top. Haskell carefully unzipped the bag to reveal the body inside. "I will leave you..."

  "No need," Mitrell said as she brushed a lock of hair from the dead girl's face. "The fool made her choice. I could have given her anything she wanted, yet she chose this life. Now, tell me what happened."

  Haskel closed the bag, took Mitrell's arm, and lead her away from the body. She explained what they thought had happened.

  "So, these three individuals left my sister to die alone in this field."

  "Yes, that pretty much sums things up," Haskell replied. "We have downloaded all of the security tapes. Hopefully, something useful will be on them."

  "Agent, would it be possible for you to forward copies of all the data you gather? I have people who specialize in finding things for me. I would like to give them a crack at finding the people responsible for my sister's death.”

  "It is highly irregular, but since you are on the Tralaskan ruling counsel, I think we can make an exception. I can have everything sent to your compound in the morning."

  "Thank you, Agent Haskell. Your efforts are greatly appreciated. Now, about my sister's body..."

  "You will be contacted when it is released by the coroner's office. Again, my condolences."

  Lady Mitrell extended her hand with palm forward in the traditional Tralaskan greeting. Agent Haskel touched it with her tentacle as per custom, then the two parted ways. Mitrell returned to her conveyance and left the crime scene.

  "Milady..." Kresh, Mitrell's Katalan driver and confidant asked, not sure what the next step was.

  "Home, Kresh. I must make plans."

  ###

  Lady Mitrell entered the house with Kresh following close behind. "Milady," Sonya, Mitrell's assistant said as she greeted Mitrell and Kresh in foyer. "Sorrows. Plans?" Sonya was a Venlanten of few words.

  "Sonya, I want you and Stone to join me and Kresh in my office, immediately," Mitrell answered.

  "Yes, milady," Sonya replied as she turned and left the room in search of Stone.

  Mitrell entered her office and sat down in a large chair while Kresh closed the doors behind them before pouring her a drink. "Kresh, pour yourself one and join me. We must talk," Mitrell said.

  Kresh poured himself something, then joined her, handing her a glass in the process. "Yes, milady," he said in his deep, calm voice.

  "Kresh, how long have we known each other?" she asked.

  "All of your life, milady. My family and yours have been part of the same clan since our ancestors met on Farsight Station over a hundred years ago."

  "Then you know how important honor is to my family and to me."

  "Yes, milady, honor must be upheld.”

  "Yet the family must be protected."

  "Aye, that is the Law of the Clan."

  There was a knock at the door. Kresh stood up and walked over. Moments later, Sonya and Stone joined them.

  Stone. How can one describe Stone? Kresh was large, even for a Katalan. Over six feet tall and massing one hundred fifty kilos, Kresh was formidable. Stone, on the other hand, was big. Seven feet tall with a musculature that put professional body builders to shame, the only word that could describe Stone was big. There were rumors of others of his kind being seen in the League, but no one really knew what Stone and his kind were.

  "Milady," Stone said in a surprisingly rich voice. "Sonya informed me of the death of your sister. Please, tell me what I can do to relieve you of your burden?"

  Mitrell smiled. She knew Stone would do anything to help her. Anything. "Pressa is dead. I cannot change that. But the Consta Family's honor must be restored. The three people who were with her when she died must be found and brought to justice. Not League justice nor Tralaskan justice. They must be brought to Consta justice. This must be done while protecting the family from backlash, so I have chosen the four of us for this duty, this danger, and this honor. If any of you feel that you cannot perform your tasks, then speak now. There is no shame in this."

  No one said anything except Stone. "Right, like we're going to leave. What's the plan, milady?" Sonya and Kresh nodded in agreement which brought a tear of pride to Mitrell's eye.

  "Agent Haskell has graciously agreed to forward all information about the death of Pressa and the robbery she was involved in. That is the starting point. We must find out who these three people are, then find them. It may be tomorrow, or it may be next year, but we will find them."

  ###

  After Pressa's death service...

  Mitrell walked around the room and talked with family, friends, and colleagues. She was quickly getting weary of the condolen
ces. Few in the room knew Pressa, and those who did were probably happy she finally found peace. Try as she might, Mitrell was unable to get her sister off the crazy train that was her life.

  "Milady," Sonya said quietly, though still startling Mitrell.

  "Sonya! I'm going to have to buy you a bell for around your neck!"

  "Yes, milady," Sonya replied. She knew Mitrell valued her ability not to be heard or seen.

  "What is it?" Mitrell asked.

  "We have news on our search. Stone and Kresh are waiting for us in your office."

  Once inside the office and the doors closed, Mitrell walked over to her desk where Kresh and Stone were standing. "What did you find?"

  Stone pointed to three photos. "These are our perps," he said. "Rodney Krenshaw, human; Talia Kirov, human; and Atmar, elf. Krenshaw and Kirov are known second-story thieves who specialize in high-tech installations."

  "And the elf, this Atmar?"

  "Atmar is an enigma. He's a black-hat hacker who is high-up in the hacker pantheon. It has only been in the last two years that he's been active in the real world. This is his dossier," Stone said as he handed Mitrell a single sheet of paper.

  Reading it, she scoffed. "You've got to be kidding me. There has to be more."

  "If there was, it has been erased from all databases," Kresh explained. "We found evidence of a computer worm on both InterWebs whose sole purpose is to erase any mention of Atmar and his past. We ran a test and it took the worm less than a second to erase a false entry we made in the League database. As it stands, there is no evidence that Atmar existed prior to two years ago. We have one thing, though."

  "What?" Mitrell asked.

  "The Morsi complex had installed a brain wave scanner system a week prior to the break-in. We have complete scans for all four perps including Atmar. It's not much, but it's a start."

  "Incredible. Where are these three currently?"

  "The two humans are dead," Sonya explained. "They tried to open a safe they thought contained data about a new FTL drive design. Instead, it contained stolen bioweapons. One of these weapons went off, killing both humans and contaminating an office building."

  "Dammit. And this Atmar?"

  "In the wind. He is like a ghost. We've tried facial recognition, but we found nothing," Stone said.