by Craig Gaydas
The smoke died down and he opened his eyes. He looked over at me and offered a pained smile. “Don't look so pale, I refuse to die today,” he assured. “If I die, who the hell is going to lead you sad excuse for soldiers?”
“Patch me through to Royal Command,” Satou ordered.
Meta's face appeared on the screen. He did not seem pleased. I thought he looked disappointed, as if he didn't expect us to be alive. I dismissed the notion.
“Calypso escaped,” he growled.
“You have to call off the Defense Fleet,” I said. “We have the President of the United States on board.”
Meta shrugged. “So?”
I clenched my fist and chewed back my anger. Embeth sensed my anger and answered for me. “He seems to be under the influence of some sort of drug. He could have been compromised by Calypso.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“We are not sure, his eyes are different. Definitely not normal. He moved sluggishly, and his eyes are so red it looks like his blood vessels may have ruptured.”
“Red you say?” Meta steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “I wonder…” he trailed off and paused.
“What is it?” Embeth asked.
“Bring him to me. Immediately.”
The screen went blank and Satou turned to Gard. “Change course to the Astral Spirit.”
“Astral Spirit?” I asked.
“It's Meta's flagship,” Wraith explained. “The largest in the fleet. It's a cross between a battle cruiser and a pleasure barge.”
Once we left Earth's atmosphere I understood what Wraith meant. The Consortium fleet lingered in the distance. Most of the ships were similar to others I had seen except for the lead vessel. It was enormous, even by galactic spaceship standards. The angular frame was longer than the Empire State Building, with two large wings at the center and several smaller wings attached to the rear. Hundreds of small, cylindrical objects were attached to the outer hull, but when we got closer I realized that they were actually smaller ships, like small escape pods. An enormous ring, attached to the rear of the vessel, looked like the largest Dyson fan ever created. My lips parted when we initiated docking procedures and my mouth hung open until we stopped.
Embeth chuckled at me. “Never seen anything like it, huh? You need to get off Earth more often.” He bellowed laughter before becoming overwhelmed by a coughing fit.
Satou chimed in. “A ship the size of the Astral Spirit requires a large amount of power to rocket through space. That is where the technetium drive comes in.”
“The what?” I asked.
“The large ring surrounding the rear of the vessel is a technetium drive. Technetium is the driving force behind the radioactive power feeding the propulsion engines,” Satou explained.
“Oh sure, obviously,” I retorted. It felt like he just explained quantum physics in Latin.
When we exited the shuttle, the High Prince was there to greet us with a frown. He pointed to the President, draped over Satou's shoulder. “Bring him to the Science Lab.”
“Come on Embeth, we better get you to Medical,” Lianne grunted and tried to lift him up. “Wraith, can you help me here?”
Wraith nodded and grabbed his waist. They stumbled out of the bay and down the hall.
“I shall remain behind with the shuttle and conduct routine diagnostics,” Gard offered.
Kedge and I accompanied Satou to the Science Lab. They strapped the President to a gurney and bound him by the wrists and ankles, the same way they bound me all those months ago. I cringed when the disembodied tentacles slithered around his appendages. Just watching them crawl over his wrists made my skin break out in goose flesh.
Meta crouched over the prone form of the President. He switched on a miniature pen light and pulled back his eyelids, waving the light back and forth in front of each pupil. “How much longer until he awakens?”
“I would say at least an hour,” Satou replied.
Meta stepped away from the gurney and glanced at us. “I hope it's enough time. He has indeed been infected.” He removed a syringe from a nearby medical supply case and extracted a blood sample from the President.
“Infected by what?” I asked.
Meta held up his hand and moved toward an intercom mounted on the wall. “Hark-Kalech are you there?”
“Yes sir.”
“It's true. The human has been infected. I need you to develop a cure. I am sending you a sample of his blood.” He slid aside a compartment door next to the intercom and placed the vial inside. After he closed the door the vial was sucked skyward with a loud swoosh.
“Infections? What's going on?” I asked.
“The royal prince bloodline has the ability of precognition. It is how we are chosen to rule over Caelum and preside over the Consortium,” he explained. “I can see pieces of the future, but they are nothing more than random images. Most of the time it takes considerable effort to translate the images into something understandable.”
“What?” I gazed at him in disbelief. “If that's true then how could you not see this coming? How did you miss Calypso's defection? Are you telling me this could have been avoided?” My anger grew with each word.
“Calm yourself, Nathan,” he cautioned. “As stated, I only see some images. Sometimes I can piece them together and understand the message. Other times they are nothing more than a random slideshow.”
“You mentioned infection,” I said, trying to control my anger at his latest revelation. “What is he infected with?”
He placed his hand on the President's forehead. “It is called the Dominion Curse.” Meta spoke softly, as if he was in a trance. “It is synthetically manufactured but acts like a parasite, attaching itself to the victim's brainstem and making them susceptible to hypnotic suggestion. It's a cruel weapon, but effective. The victim loses their sense of self, becoming nothing more than a hollow slab of meat determined to follow any command they are given.”
“Where the hell did it come from?” Satou asked, his eyes sparkled with interest but I saw the concern hidden deep within.
“From Earth,” Meta replied.
“Earth?” I repeated incredulously. “There's nothing like that on Earth.”
“That is because it hasn't been manufactured yet,” he replied.
I threw my hands in the air. “What the hell does that mean?”
Meta removed his hand from the President's head. “It is from the future. Earth's future to be exact. The door is now open and we need to close it.” He moved toward the exit but I blocked his escape.
“Wait a minute. What door? What are you talking about?”
“I don't have time to explain,” he muttered. “We have to stop him. Get out of my way.”
I didn't budge. “Explain it anyway. This is my planet we're talking about.”
Anger flashed in Meta's eyes briefly and I wondered if I pushed him too far. He eventually relaxed and slumped his shoulders. “The time hole on Earth does not lead to the past as Ales originally believed. It leads to the future. We believed the portal was inaccessible due to its location deep under the ocean, but apparently he was wrong about its location as well.”
“So, where is it?” I asked.
A strange smile spread across his face. “Oh but you already know where it is. Kell knew its location. That is why he made it part of the key to unlock the map.”
I shook my head with confusion. “I have no idea what—” I stopped and suddenly remembered the quiz to unlock the map. “The Richat Structure,” I concluded.
Meta nodded. “Only the Universal Map can reveal its exact coordinates.”
“We have to find Calypso first. He has the map,” I stated.
“There is another way.” Meta glanced at Satou but he shook his head. “It's been done before.”
“What is it?” I asked, my eyes darting between the two of them.
“Destroy the planet.”
“What?” I blurted. “You can't be serious.�
�� I started toward Meta, but Satou held me back.
Meta leered over the prone form of the President. “Destroying the planet would neutralize the time hole.”
“Calm down, Nathan, we will find another way.” Satou's attempt at comfort fell on deaf ears.
Meta turned to me and frowned. “Unfortunately, there is no other way to close the time hole. The only experience we have to fall back on is the event on Mars. The destruction of the planet destroyed the time hole as well.”
The world turned red through my veil of fury. “NO! There has to be another way! You are the Consortium, with access to technology I could only dream of. You need to find a way!”
Meta matched my anger. “There is no time!”
I attempted to wriggle from Satou's grasp but, despite my rage-fueled strength, he had a grip of steel. “We know Calypso has left Earth,” Satou offered. “Our scanners do not detect the Cirrus. Since they are not on the planet that will give us time to capture him and recover the map.”
I ceased struggling when I saw that Meta seemed to contemplate the suggestion. While he stroked the gray whiskers above his upper lip, deep in thought, an idea came to me.
“What about those transceiver things?”
“What?” Meta ceased his contemplation and looked at me.
“The transceiver like the one in the cave,” I explained. “Those transceivers have the ability to harness the power of normal wormholes, maybe with some alterations to the technology we would be able to control and monitor the time hole. Maybe we could even close it.”
Satou scratched his head. “Perhaps.” He turned to Meta. “It might be possible. I can form a team and investigate this course of action.”
Meta nodded slowly. “I will give you time to work on this solution.”
An incoming message interrupted us. “High Prince, are you available?”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Sir, we have received a communication from the DFS Proteus.”
Meta sounded impatient. “Well? What do they want?”
The voice on the other end cleared their throat. “They have captured the Cirrus near Mars. They are starting boarding protocols.”
“Advise them to put priority on locating the Universal Map!” He hesitated before adding, “Take the crew alive if possible, I will be right there.”
Satou placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled. “Perhaps everything will work out after all.”
“I hope you're right.” I pulled away and followed Meta out the door.
Kedge Mal'Dineen
He removed his staff from its sling and laid it gingerly across the bed. The accommodations the Consortium afforded him were poor at best. A single bed, mounted against the wall opposite the front door, had a mattress but it was so thin it was about as comfortable as sleeping on the floor. A table and two chairs adorned the center of the room. He slid into one of them, wincing while he did. The chair was less comfortable than the bed. The Consortium held little love for him so he supposed he should consider himself lucky he wasn't sleeping in the engine room.
The time alone allowed him to reflect on the past. When Kedge rose to power and took over as head of the Lumagom they were dazed, scattered and leaderless. After years of exterminating life in the name of false religion, Ales Banda—their former leader—had been killed after a failed attack on Caelum. He was a fool. A bloodthirsty, unreasonable fool. Kedge vowed to become the opposite of what Ales represented. The fool had destroyed Mars, stole him away from his people and forced him to watch while he murdered countless innocents. After Kedge took over as their leader Calypso approached him and promised to help him return Mars to its former glory by traveling back in time to save it. He never revealed that the time hole on Earth led to the future, not the past. Calypso betrayed him and stole the Lumagom from him. Kedge's hatred festered like an open sore.
“If I ever see you again, Calypso, I will cut off your head and mount it over my bed,” he muttered.
He sighed and picked at the titanium plate in his throat. It was one of the many cybernetic implants which has kept him alive through the centuries. As he caressed the device his thoughts drifted to the Ascended and Earth. He recalled one of his earliest voyages with Ales Banda. Their ship came upon an uncharted world in a galaxy which had long been forgotten. It bordered the edge of the universe. The planet flourished with life, which turned out to have been a mockery of everything Ales believed in, so he made the decision to exterminate everything on the planet. The first attacks scorched the planet's surface. Despite the attacks, some life remained. Ales had been furious and landed to deal with them personally. They came across a large cave which led to an underground village. The surprised villagers emerged from their hovels thinking the Lumagom raiding party were actually rescuers. Kedge recalled one villager in particular. A boy, similar in age to Nathan, had clutched his mother's hand and led her from their stony hut. At the time, Kedge had been surprised with their similarity to humans. Their amber skin and single ear were the only differing characteristics. The boy had been dressed in a leather jerkin with pants stitched from a material similar to denim and tucked into crude leather boots. The boy's eyes—pale blue eyes that he will never forget—looked past the Lumagom soldiers with their laser rifles, bandoliers full of grenades, bladed weapons and wrist rockets. He looked past them all until he locked on Kedge. His eyes were filled with hope. He seemed to hope Kedge would somehow rescue his people from the danger and lead them to safety. Kedge, weaponless and shackled, matched the child's hopeful eyes with sorrow. As soon as the mother realized who they were Ales shot her dead. In the child's face hope had been destroyed and replaced with horror. The horror only lasted for seconds before Ales shot him in the head.
A knock at the door yanked Kedge from his thoughts. Being the outcast he assumed no one would bother to call on him. The chair groaned when he stood. He shuffled toward the door and rested his forehead against it. His bones ached and he felt like he had walked through molasses just to reach the door. Age and exhaustion—those seemed to be his companions now.
“This better be important,” he grumbled.
“I wouldn't be here if it wasn't,” Embeth called from the other side.
He opened the door and frowned at the Defense Fleet commander. Exhaustion lined his pale face and his golden beard seemed grayer. His arm, bound in a sling, made him wince with every movement. It seemed like he had aged ten years since the last time Kedge saw him.
“I feel better than I look,” he replied when he spotted Kedge's sour look. With a grunt he settled into one of the chairs.
“I'm surprised you came to see me.” Kedge folded his arms across his chest but did not move to sit. “I'm glad you did, though, because I wanted to request more comfortable quarters. Can you help with that?”
Embeth ran his hand through his long golden hair which, much like his beard, had grayed significantly. “I'm not some servant wench here to serve you, Kedge. I'm here to talk about Nathan.”
Curiosity overcame him and he sat. “Nathan? Why discuss him with me?”
Embeth shifted his weight in the chair with a grimace. “Something is not right within the ranks of the Consortium and you may be the only one I can turn to for advice.”
Sensing a trap, Kedge bristled. “How many times must I prove my loyalty to you people? You don't need to keep throwing physical or mental tests at me. You mistrust me, I get the point.”
“It's not like that at all,” Embeth replied with a true look of confusion. “I fear for his safety. The High Prince was much too quick to pass judgment on Earth.” He stared at the floor. “The more I dwell on the subject the more I believe Meta suggested it because of Nathan and not because of the time hole.”
This had been an interesting turn of events. The leader of the Defense Fleet chose to confide in his longtime adversary rather than his own Council. The situation reeked of irony. His curiosity made him probe for more information. “So why come to me?”
Embeth shif
ted uncomfortably but Kedge wasn't sure if it was the pain from his wounds or the emotional pain that comes with confiding in a former enemy. “You have been around a long time. You have battled the Consortium almost as long. You survived to see several High Princes come and go.” Embeth placed his fist in his hand and cracked his knuckles. Within the confines of the room it sounded like a gunshot. “How many times you have seen Helios Protocol in action?”
Kedge narrowed his eyes and picked at the metal plate covering his throat. “Well, I lived through one on Mars,” he replied. The venom in his voice caused a pained look to spread across Embeth's face. The Council had been well aware of the bloody history of Mars and the pain caused by both sides. “There was this small planet in the GX-650 system where the atmosphere had been shredded by a meteor storm decades after Mars. The High Prince at the time, Flir or Flint or something like that, invoked Helios Protocol.” He scratched at his monocled eye. “No others come to mind.”
Embeth nodded and tugged at his beard. He seemed to absorb the words as water to a sponge. “I see,” he sighed, standing abruptly. “Two events within a span of thousands of years.”
Kedge leaned back and watched him shuffle toward the door favoring his injured shoulder. “Wait!” he cried out and Embeth stopped with his hand on the door. “What does this have to do with Nathan?”
Embeth turned and stared at him icily. “Hopefully nothing. Possibly everything.”
Kedge rubbed his temples. “That was very helpful,” he muttered.
Embeth turned to the door and lowered his head. “Can I count on you to watch over him?”
Kedge shifted uneasily in his chair and for the first time it wasn't because of its comfort. Embeth's request came as a surprise. Flashbacks of the child and his mother haunted him. His dreams of leading the Lumagom to avenge such atrocities had been dashed by Calypso. Embeth's request allowed him an opportunity to redeem himself. “Yes,” he whispered and looked to the floor.
