by Darren Beyer
“I see you are on the way to recovery.”
Erik recognized the emotionless voice. It was the same man who had been in the operating room before the regen therapy began.
“I think you will survive.”
Erik tried to focus through his healing vision. The flashes made it difficult to discern much detail, but he could see that the man was old. Very old.
“Where am I?” Erik’s voice was hoarse.
“You’re on the medical ship Glycon, in extended orbit around Eridani.”
“You moved me from the naval hospital ship.”
“The particular regen method we used tends to be”—the man raised half his mouth in a crooked smile—“frowned upon in traditional medical circles.”
Erik winced at a sudden shock of pain in his right arm. “Why?”
“It’s been said that one cannot rush God’s timing. God.” The man scoffed. “I dictate my own timing. And I need your body healed now.”
A tingle began in Erik’s left forearm. In moments it turned to an itch, then to an intense burn. Soon the pain eclipsed the agony of all his other regenerating nerves combined. He grasped his elbow in a death grip, as if that would cause the pain to cease. His flashing vision made it appear as if his tattoo—a viper turned in a circle and eating its own tail—had come alive. Blue and red light coursing through its fine lines, it undulated on his skin.
Suddenly it felt as if someone had pulled the plug on his nervous system, and his consciousness began to ebb, retreating to the deepest recesses of his mind. And in an instant he was again alert.
He sat up. The man who had put him through this misery was lying motionless on the floor. Erik’s pain was gone. His emotions were gone.
Sliding his legs over the edge of his bed, he pulled off all the leads to the medical scanner and tentatively stood. His long blond hair, tangled and unkempt, fell over his scarred face as he stared coldly at the body before him. His attention was drawn to a tattoo on the man’s forearm, only partially obscured by a long sleeve. It was identical to Erik’s own—in size, shape, and detail—and yet the two could not be more different. Erik’s was vibrant, seemingly alive under his skin; the man’s tattoo was now dull, dead. Erik sought the words to describe how he felt at that moment. He found none. No words. No answers. No explanation.
But he was certain of one thing. He felt… different.
Chapter 4: Eridani
Low hills, golden brown from the lack of rain, provided cover for the black corporate helo that flew mere meters off the ground. Grae hadn’t flown a helo in years, and flying nap-of-the-earth in a civilian craft was demanding for even the most proficient of pilots. But, like riding a bike, piloting had come back to him quickly, and Grae was now hill-hopping like a pro.
As he crested a low ridgeline and dropped into the shallow valley beyond, he was relieved that at least a few kilometers of easy flying lay in front of him. And he was getting close to his destination. He just didn’t know exactly where that destination was.
Grae set the transponder to one one four five, then hit the power switch. A brief flash on the avionics display indicated it had picked up a return, and he quickly turned it off, reset it to seven six zero zero, and repeated the process. Again it received a return, and again he turned it off. Grae powered the radio on, set its broadcast strength to minimum, and changed the frequency to one fourteen point five.
“Ops base Bravo, helo five four alpha.” Grae waited a few seconds for a response. “Ops base Bravo, helo five four alpha.”
“Helo five four alpha, Bravo approach. Set transponder to personal code, and say pass phrase.”
Grae repeated the transponder procedure. “Bravo approach, transponder set. Pass phrase Viking seven.”
“Validated.” Relief carried through the radio. “We have you on repeater three, Colonel Raymus. Damn, it’s good to hear your voice.”
“Enough chatter.” Grae spoke curtly, annoyed at the breach of communications protocol. “Sorry, five four alpha. Turn to course one zero zero. Expect further instructions in seven five kilometers.”
Grae turned the helo to the course provided and checked the fuel cell status. It was flirting with empty.
“Approach, I’m on fumes. I need direct, or you’ll be coming out to get me.”
“It’s as direct as it gets.”
“Shit.”
As he continued toward the ops base, Grae kept glancing nervously at the fuel cell status. He was no more than halfway there when the fuel indicator turned red and an alarm sounded through his headset. He silenced it with a tap. Ahead, he could see the low hills giving way to rising terrain. Ops base Bravo would be there. Comparing his airspeed to his slowing ground speed, he cursed the stiffening headwind coming off the approaching steep terrain. He wasn’t going to make it.
“Bravo approach, helo five four alpha—”
“Helo five four alpha, we have you on passives. Landing pad is at your two o’clock, six kilometers. Cleared to land.”
Grae straightened in his seat to look ahead and to the right. There, among the rugged hills, was a familiar sight: concentric yellow circles surrounding a large letter H. The landing pad.
Throttling back the three turbofan engines, he dove toward his destination. At the last instant, he applied power and flared. The helo came to an abrupt hover, and Grae dropped it heavily onto the middle of the pad.
As he went through the power down procedure, three men dressed in the uniforms of AIC security emerged from a hangar cut into the side of the hill. Two secured the skid to the pad while the third opened the cockpit door.
Grae slid out and addressed the young man who stood next to the helo. “Lieutenant, I need a word with your air traffic controller.”
“That would be me, Colonel Raymus.”
Grae narrowed his eyes and looked over the man’s shoulder toward the open hangar. Two attack skimmers and associated ground support equipment were nestled inside, but there was no sign of any people. He looked to the window serving the control tower, and saw no one there either.
“Who is in command?”
“That would be me as well.”
Grae cocked his eyebrow in confusion. “How many security personnel are stationed here?”
“Ten, sir—plus me.”
“Ten?”
“Three in ops, two in vehicle maintenance, three in facilities, one in medical, and one in services.”
“Pilots? Combat troops? This base was designed for a contingent of hundreds.”
“We’re the staging crew. No one else has been stationed here yet. Perhaps when Mister Dagan arrives—”
At the mention of his now-deceased former boss, Grae stiffened, and silenced the lieutenant with a glance. The man was now flanked by his two wide-eyed subordinates. It was clear they were all eagerly awaiting even a scrap of news.
“Gentlemen,” Grae said, “Danny Dagan isn’t coming. And I need to find a way to turn ten facilities techs into a resistance force.”
Chapter 5: Helios, Eridani System
Mandi’s eyes shot open. Lying on her bed, she looked up at the carbon-gray ceiling of her room. Even with all the lights turned off, it was as if she was outside at night during a full moon—the structure of the Anghazi gave off a dull, omnipresent light. But it wasn’t the light that woke her. It was a dream—or something like a dream.
As Mandi sat up, her eyes grew heavy, and a dull pain formed in her head. Sleep should have brought rest, but rested she was not. If she could have, she would have dropped right back down on her pillow and slept for days, but somehow she knew little good would come from that. It had already been more than twelve hours since she’d laid her head down.
Her comm chimed. “Sophia.” Mandi yawned.
“Hi, Mandi. I missed you for our lunch date.”
“Oh shit. I’m so sorry. I was—” Mandi yawned again. “I don’t know—I guess I was trying to sleep.”
“Trying?”
“I thought I was sleeping,
but I had this sort of dream.” Mandi winced at a momentary, passing headache.
Sophia cocked her head slightly and briefly narrowed her eyes in concern.
“At first, I didn’t know what it was,” Mandi said. “There was no detail, only sort of blurry shapes and figures. Then I started to make things out. I was on the tarmac at the spaceport. You were there, and Jans, and Grae. It was just like I remembered. But then things changed. I was able to move—to control things. I walked up to Grae. I kissed him.” Mandi blushed, and Sophia smiled. “But then I saw Gregory Andrews, and his security guy—”
“Jans said his name is Hallerson.” Sophia’s face grew hard. “Erik Hallerson. He’s a snake.”
Mandi immediately focused on Sophia. “Why would you call him that? A snake?”
“I don’t know. It just came to mind.”
“Well, he had this tattoo. It’s a snake.” Sophia cocked an eyebrow.
“I’ve seen it before—on Earth, when he tried take me, and at the spaceport on Eridani. But I didn’t think much of it. Yet in this dream, or whatever the hell it was, I couldn’t pull my eyes away. It was like it was alive.”
“This snake. Can you describe it for me?”
“I don’t know, I guess it was like a viper, coiled in a circle. And it was eating its own tail.”
Sophia’s eyes narrowed, then her face softened. “Look, I boxed up some food to go. If you don’t mind a little bit of a mess, why don’t you come on up to our room? You’re going to need something in you.”
“Why not? Maybe it will make me sleepy.”
Mandi hastily cleaned herself up and donned her uniform, then gave herself a once-over in the dresser’s mirror. She looked like she hadn’t slept. “It’ll have to do,” she muttered before turning and leaving her room through the sliding white door.
She took the elevator to the level that housed the apartment allocated to Sophia and Jans. When she placed her hand on the touchpad beside the door, Sophia’s voice came over the door’s speaker.
“Come in.”
Mandi knew Jans and Sophia lived an orderly existence, but the state of their apartment was anything but. The bed and desk had been pushed together on one side, artwork and personal items were strewn about, and a number of large pieces of equipment were connected with heavy cables to the main power bus. In the middle of it all, Sophia sat in her 3D-printed wheelchair.
Mandi looked at all the clutter. “What is all this?”
“Oh, it’s something Jans and your mother have been working on for me. But you didn’t come here to talk about my hobbies.”
“Hobbies?” Mandi scrutinized Sophia’s black, skin-tight suit. Coppery lines ran across her body and down her arms and legs. “Is that an EPIC suit, like on Dauntless?”
Sophia nodded, then waved dismissively. “This can wait. You came here to tell me about this dream you had.”
“Dreams, actually.”
“Dreams—plural?”
Mandi nodded.
“Well.” Sophia sighed. “Like mother, like daughter.”
“What do you mean?”
“Being inside of an Anghazi— this one, and the one that used to be near Saturn—impacts everyone. For most people, it’s like being on Adderall. You get more attentive, active. And with a few people, there’s a sort of connection. Your mother has it. I think you have it.”
“Adderall.” Mandi let loose another long yawn. “I could use some of that right about now. Are you saying I can’t get sleep—real sleep—because I’ve found some kind of galactic soulmate?”
Sophia smiled and shook her head. “It’s not like that. She knows when you’ve got a problem you want to solve—”
“She?”
“One thing at a time.” Sophia looked up into Mandi’s eyes. “When she connects to a human being, she opens up neural pathways in their brains. Your mother has the strongest affinity we’ve seen. How do you think she made so many advances so quickly?”
“I suppose the Anghazi taught her.”
“Taught? That’s not how it happens—at least not how I understand it, anyway. She enables learning, but if you don’t already have the pieces tucked away in different corners of your brain, then it doesn’t just magically come to you. That’s why many of Gisela’s advances have been in the areas of wormhole formation and things related to artificial gravity, but she hasn’t had the first thought on how to navigate.” Sophia’s expression hardened. “Nassir did all that.”
“Nassir?”
“He used to work for AIC; now he leads an Outer Sphere splinter group. The same one that launched that attack—” Sophia’s voice carried an edge. She averted her eyes. “We can talk about that later.”
An alarm sounded throughout the complex. The artificial lights in the room flickered, then went dark, leaving the two women in the Anghazi’s muted background light.
“What’s going on?” Mandi asked.
“I don’t know. Comm, call Jans.” Sophia waited a few moments but got no response. “Comm, Jans!” Again, nothing. “Comm, Gisela.” Still nothing.
She looked up at Mandi. “I think the main fusion reactor must be offline. The auxiliary, too. Comms are supposed to be on the emergency power bus. If that’s down…” Sophia let out a heavy breath.
“What’s happening?”
“Nothing good,” Sophia said. “Nothing good.”
Chapter 6: Orbiting Eridani
This is your office.” Now out of her scrubs, the redheaded Karis paused at the sliding door.
At one time, Erik might have considered her attractive, but not now. That would require emotion, and Erik felt none. He tentatively placed his hand on the access pad, and was only somewhat surprised when its indicator turned green and the door opened. The compartment, the desk and holo screen, the viewport, the stars scrolling by as this section of the medical ship rotated—they all seemed eerily familiar, though he had seen none of it before.
He limped inside and sat heavily at the desk. Karis wordlessly placed a black folder beside him. He stared at it for a few moments before opening it to find a single sheet of paper printed with cryptic graphics. It was a password reminder—a reminder he somehow recognized. He reached into his holo screen and used the reminder to unlock it, revealing digital folders arrayed in long columns.
“These are all plans that require your approval and Andrews’s signature to move forward,” Karis said. “They are arranged in priority order.”
Each carried an unfamiliar operational label, yet Erik knew they were both meaningful and necessary.
“Leave me,” he said.
“I am to act as your assistant as you work through the transition. I should be here.” Erik looked up at her and glared. “Leave.”
With a nod, Karis turned and left, closing the door behind her.
Erik briefly reviewed each plan before approving it and setting it into action. Though he was sure he’d seen none of these before, each seemed more familiar than the last. They seemed innocuous enough when looked at individually, but together they wove a tapestry—a scheme that would make even the most nefarious movie villain envious. For hours he pored through them, until the chime on his comm interrupted him.
“Yes.”
Karis’s face appeared on the screen. “Mister Hallerson, Gregory Andrews is calling. Would you like me to patch him to you?”
Erik ground his jaw in annoyance. “Yes, put him through.”
The scowling face of the new leader of Eridani appeared in full holographic glory. “Mister Andrews, it is good to see you,” Erik said. “What may I do for you?”
Andrews’s eyes darted from side to side as he scanned Erik’s scarred face. “It seems you are well on the road to recovery.”
Erik nodded.
“Now, the last I hear about my top operative is that he’s undergoing a very risky medical procedure. Then out of nowhere, I get dozens of materials and logistics requests crossing my screen—all of them from you.” Andrews narrowed his eyes and leaned
forward. “What’s this all about, Erik?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t brief you sooner. I’m only now feeling able to begin work again. As to the requests, most are plans I developed before the invasion—to support your post-AIC vision. Some are reactions to invasion events, most notably the scattering of the Coalition fleet due to the destruction of the Eridani end of the Casimir bridge. The original plan called for bringing the entry end from Alnair to Eridani, and taking the destination end from here back to the Sol system. I’m sure you are already working on deploying a replacement, but even were it here now, it would take weeks, if not months, for the fleet to reassemble and prepare for the return trip to the Sol system. I know your goal is to put the final nail in AIC’s coffin, and to acquire their hyperium and their secrets, most of which are now only accessible by finding and taking—”
“Helios.” Andrews scowled.
“Helios,” Erik repeated. “You have assets scouring the space around Ascension attempting to find it, but Ascension is a large gas giant with many moons of its own. What if you don’t find it? And even if you do, what if the Coalition fleet is still here? It’s impossible to keep something of that magnitude a secret. And if the Coalition has the means, you can be sure it will take control. You didn’t come this far for that to happen. We cannot take Helios while the fleet is still here.”
“Yet the longer we wait, the stronger Jans Mikel will become.” Andrews leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“And the more the Coalition will think they need to leave a force to deal with him. This is the eventuality I’m taking steps to protect against, but time is an issue. I plan to brief you in full when I return to the surface.”
“Well, you need to get back here in a hurry. With all the confusion that Mikel’s damned Mace virus is causing, remnants of his security forces are beginning to organize. It’s starting to draw Coalition attention. I need you to take care of it.”
Erik suppressed a sneer. Chasing down some scattered refugees was a waste of his time. “You don’t approve,” said Andrews.
