Pursuit of the Guardian (Children of the Republic Book 2)

by Jason Hutt

  Hannah charged in anyway.

  At that moment, as time slowed with death closing in on her, she heard an unexpected voice – her father. “Hannah, Gauntlet, if you can hear me, seal up! Seal up, now!”

  ***

  The Guardian slipped through the wormhole, emerging less than a kilometer from the line of Republic cruisers. The ship didn’t come alone. A large comet emerged just behind the shuttle. Max fired the shuttle’s thrusters taking it out of the path of the giant lump of rock, metal, and ice that now hurtled towards the broadside of the Republic cruiser.

  The comet closed fast. In the blink of an eye, over a third of the ship disintegrated and the comet barreled on, tumbling, as it headed for the next cruiser in the line.

  Tears came to Max’s eyes as the comet broke the Republic line. One thought dominated his mind. I just killed her.

  ***

  Akimbe’s eyes widened as he saw the bulk of the comet emerge from the wormhole.

  An automated voice erupted from the ship’s speakers. “Collision imminent.”

  There was no time for orders. Akimbe quickly jabbed at emergency overrides on his console. Across the ship, every open hatch started to close. Then, he touched a spot on his collar and he started to feel the warmth of emergency foam as it encased him. He lost consciousness just as he heard the first rending screech of metal.

  ***

  The Republic cruisers were out of the fight. The numbers had shifted. Ironheart set his remaining ships on the interceptors that remained and gleefully pulverized them. The battle was over.

  “Well done, Max,” Ironheart said, “You did it. I can’t believe it, but you did it. If I could see you right now, I’d kiss you.”

  “Copy,” Max said, not feeling any sense of jubilation.

  Max’s console beeped; the jump beacon was back online. The remaining Republic craft were in full retreat and cueing up to jump out of the system.

  “Max, we’ll find Hannah,” Ironheart said, “We’ll get right on it.”

  Max muted the comm. He stared at the debris field. She was out there somewhere. His hands trembled violently as he raised them to his head.

  “Sir,” Reggie said, “The chances of her survival were low regardless of your course of action. Once she entered combat, the likelihood of her survival was near zero.”

  Max sat at the cockpit console and cried.

  ***

  “This,” Maria said as she pointed to a report being projected on the screen to her left, “Is concrete proof that the core of this Republic has rotted away.”

  The gathered crowd of reporters, human and robot alike, listened as she highlighted several sections of the document.

  “Commander Djimbe Akimbe, a loyal, dedicated servant of this Republic, has uncovered an intelligence breech which could only be perpetrated by a small group of individuals at the highest levels of our security complex. He sent us this report just before confronting those who have profited from this breech. I don’t know what dangers he faces, but I am inspired by his bravery. Men and women will sacrifice their lives today fighting for a Republic that they believe is just. I owe it to those men and women to ensure that we get to the root of this, find out who is responsible, and bring those criminals to justice.”

  “Senator, what are your thoughts on who is behind this?”

  “I don’t want to speculate,” Maria said, “But we must look at who could stand to profit from this. Who stands to gain from playing both sides in this conflict? Who stands to gain from selling hardware to the military and yet undermining the effectiveness of that hardware by giving the enemy the tools and information they need to beat that hardware?”

  “You sound like you’re pointing a finger at the Marshall Conglomerate.”

  “You’re putting words into my mouth,” Maria said, “If that’s the conclusion you come to, then so be it. But we don’t know enough to cast these dangerous aspersions, let’s…”

  Maria’s wrist computer started beeping, as did two of the reporters’, and they were quickly joined by the beeps and buzzes from the computers of the rest of the assembled press. Maria had a note from her new campaign manager Leeland Che.

  Hunter is doing an impromptu conference. You better turn this on.

  Maria felt a knot in her stomach. She tried to maintain her smile as she turned on the projection. Hunter stood larger-than-life in front of his office doorway. His surgery had clearly been a success; Hunter looked at least ten years younger with the engraved lines on his forehead not running quite so deep and a slight bit of color had returned to his hair.

  “Well,” Hunter said with his typical drawl, “It’ll take us quite a bit of time to sort all this out. Now that we’ve caught this sly fox, we best flush the rest of this skulk out. I have no doubt this man was not acting alone. I’m just glad we caught him. We know he was working for Governor Murphy and our investigators have found enough evidence to link him to the assassination attempt of Senator Cahill.”

  “With such a high-ranking security official involved, what does that suggest for the Governor’s involvement?” A female voice somewhere out of the image asked.

  “We don’t know enough at this point to comment, but you can believe if I was running that show, I’d know what my people were doing.”

  “What does this mean for Demeter’s colonial status?” A male voice asked.

  “Again, too early to comment. A special investigative task force has been dispatched. They’ll conduct a thorough investigation into some of the other allegations that were levied in the report. After they conduct they’re investigation, we’ll be able to sort that out.”

  “And Senator Cahill?”

  “You know the law - so long as Demeter remains a viable colony, her status doesn’t change.”

  Maria furrowed her brow as she watched, trying to quickly sort through it. As she stared at the image of Graham, whose face reflected a perfectly practiced wistful smile, the image changed from the elder Senator to the back of her blue blazer. Maria was suddenly reminded that she had her back to a pack of vultures.

  “Senator, can you comment on the arrest of Mr. O’Rourke?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her words stretched out, “I don’t know who that is.”

  “Can you comment on the allegations of agricultural and biological violations being levied against Demeter and Governor Murphy?”

  “No comment,” Maria said, “Now, please, I need time to study the report. I’m learning about this just as you are.”

  Maria stepped back, her office door opened, and she quickly retreated to the sanctuary behind her closed door. Messages were once again flooding into her account. Her assistant had already pulled the report and highlighted significant passages. Maria started reading through them as her assistant turned on the news.

  Dylan O’Rourke, a personal security officer, was arrested under suspicion of coordinating the assassination attempt of Senator Maria Cahill. Mr. O’Rourke is also alleged to have obstructed the investigation of Sector Security officials looking into the attempt by destroying and fabricating evidence that covered up the involvement of the original suspect, Ms. Vida Night.

  Maria’s computer buzzed again with another message from her campaign manager.

  I can’t be associated with this. I quit.

  Maria sighed. Her desk beeped, a message had arrived from Cillian. Maria tapped the play button. Cillian’s face appeared, his eyes projecting daggers across the light-years.

  “What the hell is going on, Maria? They’re saying I’m under house arrest and that there’s a Republic inspection team incoming. This is absolute bullshit. I can’t let them land, Maria. If they do, that’s it; we’re finished. You hear me? Do something about this!”

  The message faded and Maria sat heavily in her chair. Another chime sounded, another call was incoming. This one, though, was local. Maria accepted and Hunter appeared, feet propped up on his desk, glass of whiskey in hand.

  “You son of a bitch,” Mar
ia said.

  “You’ve gotten yourself into one fine mess, Maria.”

  “This won’t bring me down,” she said, “I’ll fight you.”

  “Your fightin’ days are over, sweetheart,” he said, “You just don’t know it yet. Your colony status is about to be revoked.”

  “I’ll appeal. I’ll sue.”

  “The last vestiges of the damned.”

  “You can’t get away with this.”

  “I already have,” he said, “Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  Hunter took a sip from his glass. He slowly put his feet down and leaned forward in his chair. “Recant your position, support the FPA changes. Demeter will get off with some sanctions and you keep your seat until the election.”

  Maria leaned her head on her hand and rubbed at her temple.

  “No,” she said and ended the call.

  Maria sat in her apartment and watched the Senate vote on the Family Planning Act. The votes rolled in and within minutes it was clear that the measure would pass. She watched as the tally continued. In the end, the measure passed with 56 yeahs, five abstained, and one no-show.

  The news cameras showed a smiling Hunter Graham as he enthusiastically shook hands with his fellow Senators. A pop-up showed Sanjay Arresh holding an impromptu press conference on the Senate steps, extolling the virtues of the newly passed legislation.

  Maria shook her head in disgust and turned off the projection. After two minutes sitting in silence, she turned on her projector and called up the recordings of Eleanor Shaw’s memories. She went to that moment when Nick and Eleanor first met, when his face filled up her worldview.

  She watched him ask if the little girl was okay and a moment later the image faded. Maria’s eyes drooped and she started to drift off aided by the former contents of her glass. She felt the urge to tell the computer to restart the memory, but instead she leaned her head back and dozed.

  Her head jolted forward a moment later and Max Cabot’s face filled her view. She scowled and threw her glass through the projection. It shattered as it hit the far wall. Maria leaned her head back again and put her arm over her eyes. She listened to Max’s voice; he was talking to Eleanor about his daughter, telling the young girl how Hannah had died in his arms.

  Part III

  Chapter 16

  Hannah heard a hissing noise somewhere to her left, then a soft beeping that seemed to be quickening in frequency. She opened her eyes and found herself enveloped in darkness. The soft blue eyes of a medical robot looked back at her. She didn’t recognize the robot or the room. She tried to talk and the first sound she made was something more like a slurred grunt. Her jaw felt like it had rusted shut.

  As she raised her arm to try and work her jaw loose, she noticed small white patches had been placed at regular intervals along her arm. Her mouth was painfully dry; she tried to swallow and felt a burning in the back of her throat.

  “I apologize, Ms. Cabot,” the robot said in a soothing female lilt, “The revitalization process tends to leave patients disoriented in the best of circumstances. Yours were not the best of circumstances.”

  She tried to prop herself up and felt the pull of synthetic skin on her arm. She looked down at her forearm, the entire thing was covered in shiny, bright pink skin.

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” The robot asked.

  “We were on the Republic cruiser. Surrounded. Trapped. I was firing…my arm was hit,” she said as she gingerly touched the area.

  “It will heal in time,” the robot said, “No permanent scaring.”

  “The last thing I remember hearing was Max, yelling something…then Gauntlet grabbed me…where is she?”

  “I understand she has left on an assignment.”

  Hannah smiled as she lay back down. “And Crank?”

  “The same.”

  “Good. Where am I? Is this…”

  “The Phantom. You were picked up after your father broke the Republic line with the comet. Gauntlet sealed you up in a recovery pod.”

  “My father,” she said, “Where is he?”

  “Also on assignment.”

  “What kind of assignment?”

  “I don’t know,” the robot said, “I have finished my examination. You are free to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “Wherever you would like. The monitors will stay for another day. Assuming your vital signs remain stable, I will remove them this time tomorrow. Please don’t be late.”

  “Okay,” Hannah said. She was lost, unsure of where to go or what to do. That Max had left her here, well of course he had. She shook her head. The least he could have done was to wait until she had been revived.

  She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and her bare feet recoiled from the cold floor.

  “Your senses will be somewhat heightened from the suspension state. There are slippers in the corner.”

  “Where are my clothes?” Hannah asked as she looked down at the thin hospital gown.

  “Locker,” the robot said.

  Hannah put her feet back on the floor and sucked in a gulp of air. Her muscles ached but she still tiptoed quickly to the corner. She doffed the gown and quickly shimmied into her clothes.

  “Thank you,” she said to the robot as she took a tentative step out of the room. The robot gave her a curt nod as it floated off toward another patient. She looked around with no idea where to go next. She took a few tentative steps, holding on to the wall, unsure if her legs would still be up to the task.

  She walked down a short corridor and entered a holding area, stacked with rows of crates. Labels showed the containers held large vats of silicon, carbon, aluminum, and a host of other materials. Drones were unloading several crates into large vats. A door to the left of the vats was labeled ‘Print Room’ in bright yellow letters above the door. Hannah stumbled through the cacophony of part printers unsure of where to go next.

  She paused outside of a room marked ‘Biolab’ where a man with two silver-lined prosthetic eyes was closely examining the skin surrounding what looked to be a newly-grafted silver prosthetic ear on the side of a dark-skinned woman’s head.

  “You’re going to need a new name,” the doctor said.

  “What’s wrong with the one I have?” the woman asked.

  “Ironheart christens everyone with a name he feels is more suitable to the job. I wasn’t born Doc Optic.”

  Hannah quickly walked away when the female patient looked up at her.

  Shouting erupted from the end of a corridor to her right. Hannah peered through the open hatchway when it suddenly slammed shut. She stepped back cautiously. When nothing else happened after another few moments, she turned and wandered back the way she had come.

  Hannah came to the junction just outside the print room, sighed, and decided to head back to the bed she’d woken up in when the hatchway that led that direction suddenly closed. She looked around but saw no one else. With a shrug, she went down the only path open to her.

  Someone had painted the word ‘EATS’ in big white letters on a hatch halfway down the corridor, but the hatch seemed to be locked shut. She continued, no longer thinking that the hatch closures were accidental. When another hatch closed at the next junction, she knew she was being guided down a specific path. With nowhere else to go, she walked ahead. Finally, she rounded a corner and heard voices coming out of a brightly lit open hatchway.

  A strong voice, with an accent she couldn’t quite place, was speaking. “The Senator needs to be removed from the situation. She has outlived her usefulness. This time we would ask that you finish the job. No near miss. She must be eliminated.”

  Hannah poked her head through the hatchway. She locked eyes with Ironheart who simply offered her a welcoming smirk. She hesitated at the entryway until he waved her into the room. She took a brief look behind her; the hatch had closed. The message continued to play.

  “Her locator code is attached,” the man said and then paused. Hannah w
as ready to ask a question, when the voice started again. “I apologize for your current situation. I’ll have a word with the Admiral. As an apology, we’ll offer triple our usual rate upon successful completion of the job. You will also receive a sizable bonus if it can be made to look like suicide. We’ve attached route plans for a few convoys that should help get you back up to speed. I trust you’ll find this to be acceptable compensation.”

  The recording ended and they stared at each other. Ironheart leaned forward in his chair and folded his arms in front of him.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living, Hannah. I’ve been looking forward to speaking with you.”

  “Where’s Max?”

  “He’s gone,” Ironheart said with a frown, “Off on his fool’s errand. I believe he left instructions for you with the robot.”

  “He left Reggie?”

  “And his ship,” Ironheart said, “Both are encoded to take commands only from you. Trust me, I verified that one myself.”

  Hannah’s mouth fell open. She knees began to shake and she put a hand against the bulkhead. “I can’t believe he didn’t wait for me to wake up.”

  “On the contrary,” Ironheart said, “He ordered us to wait until he was gone to revive you.”

  “No,” Hannah said and she could feel tears coming on. She sat down and held her head in her hands. “No…he didn’t…he couldn’t…wouldn’t.”

  “He did. He left two days ago. He’ll be arriving at Ceres by the end of the week. Your father was anxious to be gone.”

  “He’s not my father.”

  “Your genes would beg to differ, but that’s not important right now. I understand you have a bit of a beef with the Republic. I hear you’d like to overload their reactor.”

  Hannah had barely registered the shift from Ironheart. All she could feel was Max turning away from her. “What?”

  “Your father has promised me compensation for my support in this venture. He coded the ship to you to ensure that I would put forth the effort to revive you. He needn’t have bothered; you’re worth far more to me than that.”