The Kepos Problem (Kepos Chronicles Book 1)

by Erica Rue

  The trip from the station to the upper atmosphere was uneventful. Dione even managed to get some reading done. She pulled up a book on her manumed that the professor had given her. He thought it would be helpful for her project, even though it was on pseudophyta, false plants, rather than the true plants that she would be examining. “Keep your mind open to other ideas,” he said, “because sometimes that lizard you’ve been studying is just a very strange bird.”

  “You know you don’t have to read that anymore. Homework is the least of our worries at this point,” Lithia said. Dione noticed how careful she was to avoid any explicit mention of the professor.

  “I find it calming.” Dione just needed to get her mind off of everything that had happened. The professor was gone. He had died to save her. To save them. And it may have all been in vain if the tracer sent back a signal with their last known location. Somehow, reading the last book he had assigned her made her feel better.

  After Dione reread the same sentence for the fifth time, she decided that maybe it was time to give up. They were nearing the bumpy part of the trip anyway. She should probably say something now, before the flying got rough. Last night, she had made up her mind to talk to Lithia and clear the air. She didn’t like having this giant wedge between them.

  Dione’s stomach did a flip, but it had nothing to do with Lithia’s flying. She’d played through the scenario in her head a few times, planning for different outcomes, just like she always did. Now that she was finally alone with Lithia, and all immediate threats were out of the way, they could afford a disagreement. This was not the best time, but their unfinished conversation from the cockpit had been gnawing at the back of her mind, and Lithia couldn’t avoid her now. Dione started with the most obvious question, one she was afraid to know the answer to.

  “How did you find out about this place? Aside from the Rim, all planet locations outside the Bubble are classified.”

  “The Alliance archives,” Lithia replied. She kept her eyes fixed on the readouts, paying far more attention to the stable readings than the situation merited.

  “But those are restricted. You can’t even break into them unless you have an access portal.” The moment the words escaped her lips, every muscle in her body tensed. She had been going over the possibilities in her mind until a memory surfaced. A few months ago, Lithia had needed her help. She said she needed the access for a personal project. There was some data from an Alliance research project that wouldn’t be made public in time. Dione hadn’t seen the harm.

  “When I let you use my father’s access portal, this is what you were doing? You told me it was for one of your projects.”

  “It was, just not the one you were thinking of.”

  “You lied to me,” Dione said, raising her voice. She almost couldn’t believe it. Lithia lied all the time, of course, but not to her. That was the unwritten rule.

  At that moment, they hit the initial entry turbulence. Lithia maneuvered them through before responding. “I didn’t have a choice. You never would have helped me if you knew.”

  “How did you do it? No way you found that information by yourself.”

  There was a long pause as Lithia checked through the readouts, though Dione suspected it was more for show than necessity. She waited, staring at the side of Lithia’s head until she turned and met her eyes.

  “Zane.”

  “Zane? Really?” Dione said. “I didn’t know you were friends.”

  “We weren’t. Bel knew him, though. He may not be that into biology, but he knows his way around network safeguards. Maybe if you took a minute to get to know him, you’d realize that he’s actually crazy smart.”

  “Why, then?” Dione was yelling now, her voice bigger than normal in the small confines of the shuttle, and louder after the end of the turbulence. “What was so important about this place that you lied to me and put my father’s job at risk?”

  That was the biggest piece Dione was missing. Something had driven Lithia to betray her trust, but she couldn’t imagine what it could be. She was looking for a reason to understand, but Lithia’s silence on the subject was all the proof she needed. Lithia was caught up in something bad, and if she didn’t trust Dione with the truth, they would have nothing to talk about.

  They were nearly to the surface, but Lithia gave no indication that she would respond. When she finally spoke, her response threw Dione completely off-guard.

  “You left Oberon on the Ven ship, didn’t you? I never would have left him,” Lithia said.

  Using the professor as a redirect. That was a low blow, and an effective one Dione hadn’t expected. She already hated herself for leaving him, even though she knew it had been the right decision. “If you had gone and stayed, you’d be dead. We’d all be dead. Because you would have charged on in, gotten killed, and you never would have set the explosive.”

  “At least I would have some honor left. Did you even try to save him?”

  Lithia was impossible. Sure, Dione had her flaws, as Bel had made abundantly clear, but at least she could admit that to herself. One day, Lithia’s obstinacy would get her into bigger trouble than she could handle.

  Before Dione could respond, there was a terrible creaking sound, then a burst of light hit the ship. Lightning with no storm? Before she could process the implications of being shot, her head connected with the console in front of her with a sickening thwack.

  When she lifted her head, the readouts went black, and if it weren’t for the actual viewing glass present in older models like this, they would be in the dark. They were falling now, and Dione’s heart—or worse—was in her throat. It wasn’t a free fall, but it was uncontrolled. The crash would kill them.

  “I can’t do anything! We’re going to need to eject,” Lithia said.

  “Eject? Are you serious?” Dione said.

  “I inspected everything, and it checked out.” Despite being impressed, Dione was still angry, and the pounding in her head wasn’t helping anything.

  “So now you’re an expert on hundred-year-old emergency equipment?” she said. The world around her was shaking and vibrating, and the pain in her head somehow unsettled her stomach.

  “You’re welcome to stay here,” Lithia replied, fastening the tertiary safety strap and tightening her harness. Dione had banged her head because hers was too loose, and if they were ejecting, she was going to be certain that her harness was snug.

  This was actually happening. They were going to eject from the shuttle and parachute down onto an unknown planet. A planet that had been terraformed on the edge of space one hundred years ago for some mysterious purpose. Dione buckled the additional straps and braced herself.

  “Ready?” Lithia asked.

  Suddenly the Nav display lit up and instantly Lithia was back at the controls, pulling them out of their nosedive. Except it wasn’t working. They still felt out of control. “The backup systems aren’t giving me enough power. We have enough to land, but it’s not going to be pretty.”

  Dione liked pretty things, and was sorry to hear that this landing was going to be rough. Bile rose up in her throat, and she dutifully choked it back down. Almost there. If she was unconscious, would her stomach still feel the need to void its contents? The thought almost made her hope that she got knocked out in the landing.

  She could see the tree tops fast approaching. They were going to crash in the forest. No, no, we are going to land in the forest. Come on. Be optimistic. Their craft was moving too fast and the clearing Lithia was aiming for was too small. Dione’s understanding of physics told her this was not going to work.

  15. BRIAN

  Brian wiped the sweat from his brow and ignored his growling stomach. It was already hot, even though the sun had only just showered the horizon in gentle pink and gold. He had been working all night trying to fix this damn Artifact plow, and he had finally gotten it. He thought. Jackson came in, right on time. The anxious farmer had been checking in every hour, slowing him down. But that’s what
he could expect from an Aratian, wanting miracles in nothing more than the shift of a shadow.

  “Sun’s up, Brian, and I can’t have you here,” Jackson said, looking out the window. “Wife’s up, too, and you know how she feels.”

  She probably feels like she wants her damn plow fixed. Brian knew enough not to be rude until after he got paid. “All done, give it a try.”

  “Took you long enough,” the farmer said. “Solar’s charged?”

  “If that’s how you left it, yeah.” Brian walked over to his pack and dropped a few tools in.

  Jackson powered on the machine, and a smooth hum filled the barn.

  “I don’t know how you do it, but you’ve got the knack.”

  “Which is why I come at a price. I’ll take my payment and be on my way.” Your wife can reach her own conclusions about where you kept rushing off to in the middle of the night. Brian studied Jackson’s face, and he saw it there. A flicker of guilt.

  “Brian, look, there was a problem getting the full amount.”

  “I see,” Brian said. “So how many do you have?”

  “Two.”

  “Two? That’s not enough. We agreed on six.” Brian strode over to the plow again, caressing its sturdy metal frame. He popped open a panel on the side. “I know you have it. You just don’t want to pay. And I don’t work for free.” With a few swift movements, the humming died off.

  Jackson’s face dropped. “Don’t be like this. I’ll leave you the rest at the exchange site, later this month. Turn it back on.”

  “Later this month? And if my family starves before then?”

  “We didn’t poison your irrigation water, boy. You did that all on your own.”

  “Where is it?” Brian watched Jackson’s eyes for another betrayal, and they delivered as he glanced over at the grain storage trunks. “Once I take what’s mine, I’ll set the plow right, and leave. Original deal upheld.”

  Brian began opening the trunks until he found what he was looking for, ten packages tied up neatly. He took only his six, put them in his pack, and then returned to the plow. Jackson was still sitting there, furious. Brian fixed the plow a second time and sprinted from the barn, eager to leave before he found more trouble.

  He had just reached the tree line of the adjacent forest, the nebulous no man’s land between Aratian and Ficaran territory, when he heard it. He looked up to see something falling from the sky, trailed by fire. Only death falls from the sky. They were old words, ones he remembered his mother saying long ago. He didn’t believe them, but they came automatically.

  This wasn’t death though. The falling object looked familiar, the same smooth metal exterior. A Flyer. And if it was a Flyer, he knew there was only one choice: find the pilot. Home lay to the southwest, and judging by the trajectory, the crash site would be east, not far, but squarely in Aratian territory. If the Aratians caught him with what he was carrying, they would assume that he was a thief and execute him.

  Still, this could be the answer to finding his father. He had to risk it. Brian secured his pack and ran further into the forest where his golden maximute was waiting. He sang the words of greeting, and the giant dog wagged its tail and lowered itself, allowing him to hop on. “Come on, Canto.” He had to get there first. Every Aratian had seen that crash, and they did believe the old words. They were probably already on their way.

  16. ZANE

  Zane tried calling again, but it was no good.

  Bel was the one who spoke first. It was always Bel who broke the silence. “Did they crash? Are they dead?”

  She was standing behind him, gripping his shoulder with one hand as she looked at the screen in front of them. Dione and Lithia were already gone by the time she woke, and she had insisted on joining Zane in the command center. The old security protocols were surprisingly effective after all this time, but Zane had cracked through in a few key areas.

  “There’s no way to tell. Their manumeds have cut out. The station takes satellite images every few hours. That’s when we’ll know.”

  “Hours?” Bel sat next to him and closed her eyes.

  “We have to wait until the imaging device rotates back into position.”

  “What happened, anyway?”

  “There’s no way of knowing. It’s weird, I’m not getting any sort of communications signals from the planet, at least in the area where the anti-parasitics are,” he said. He should have noticed it earlier, though admittedly, Bel’s condition had taken up most of his attention. Even an abandoned planet would make some detectable noise, but the area where Dione and Lithia had headed gave off no signals, even though it was the region with the old research bases. He emphasized his point by showing her the screen. “None. But the station did pick up an energy surge low in the atmosphere. That was about the same time that the station stopped receiving any telemetry or communication from the shuttle.”

  “What would cause that?” Bel asked. She massaged her temples.

  “If a surge blew that component, it wouldn’t be able to send or receive anything. Malfunction. User error.”

  “Destruction?” Bel asked. He wished she weren’t so blunt sometimes.

  “That, too.”

  “Was the energy surge natural or man-made?”

  “Man-made?” Zane said. “Not likely. The planet is uninhabited. The station logs say this place was evacuated.”

  Zane kept his concern about the strange signal dead zone to himself. No need to worry Bel.

  “Was there an electrical storm in their way?” Bel asked.

  “No, but there are probably other natural phenomena that could produce that type of surge.” But it was unlikely one would cut off comms in the shuttle and their manumeds.

  “Mmhmm,” She still hadn’t opened her eyes back up. She was wincing.

  He put a hand on her shoulder to soothe her. “How’s your leg?”

  She wore loose-fitting sleeping pants that she had brought for nights on Barusia. Not shy, she pulled the waistband of her pants low enough to reveal her bandage, which she carefully peeled away. He did his best to look only at the wound.

  The scratch was swelling and its color darkening to a swampy green, surrounded by a red itch that signified the battle her body was fighting. Bel covered the wound back up. Zane thought she stood a chance against the infection, but he still hoped that Lithia and Dione were okay and would be on their way back soon. The logical part of his mind amplified his doubts about her chances of recovery and wore down his optimism.

  “You should get some rest. Your leg is clearly hurting you.”

  “As long as I’m able, I plan to be here. Helping. And when the occasion calls for it, napping.”

  Zane made no reply. He never won arguments with other people, so he tended to avoid them. They seemed to depend more on emotional appeals rather than logic, and that always bothered him.

  “I’m going to see if I can speed up those planetary scans. Why don’t you work on the manumeds?” she said.

  “All right,” he said. “But be careful. Your manumed is broken, so I can’t reach you.”

  Bel waved off his concern, but gave him a smile all the same. He tried to ignore the butterflies that one smile gave him. There was too much to do to be distracted.

  Zane decided to start back on the Calypso. It was the source of the signal their manumeds used to interact. Why did they just stop transmitting? The nanotech was probably just interfering. Still it was strange timing for their comms to go out. Reluctantly, he left Bel to go back to the Calypso.

  Zane was glad he was up here with her. She knew him well enough to give him space. Dione and Lithia tried to talk to him, but their polite interest in his life and hobbies was more annoying than anything else. He just wanted to be left alone, go unnoticed. The irony of his current attempt to repair their communication system was not lost on him.

  Zane found the right console and got to work. He had grown up on ships, though much bigger than the Calypso, learning how to maintain, streamline,
and even adjust systems. The adjustment bit had been brought to the attention of one of the officers, who, instead of reprimanding him, had given him information about a scholarship to StellAcademy. Quite different from Dione’s admission story, he was sure. Assuming the daughters of Alliance power players even had to apply.

  An initial check of the software looked good, but he ran a diagnostic anyway. If it were a hardware problem, he’d be lost, so hopefully the diagnostic would turn something up. Otherwise, the nanotech would have one more repair on its plate.

  He would check on Bel while it ran. No matter how tough she tried to play it, she was not in good shape.

  The walk back felt longer, his mind focused only on her. He should have insisted she get some rest. She might actually listen to him, unlike the others.

  He reached the command center to find his worst fears confirmed. Bel, lying on the floor, eyes closed. He rushed to her.

  The green lesion on her leg glowed faintly through the bandage and thin fabric, and he thought he detected a few other luminescent regions under her arm and neck, but it was probably his mind playing tricks.

  “Bel,” he said. Her eyes opened slowly, as if their lids had been stuck shut.

  “I’m here. Just needed to lie down. The floor is nice and cool.”

  He reached out a hand, hesitated, then touched her forehead. He didn’t know what normal was supposed to feel like, even using his own forehead as a comparison, but he didn’t need to. He was certain she had a fever.

  “You’re going to the med bay.” It was perhaps one of the firmest statements Zane had ever made. Grateful for the reduced gravity, he scooped Bel into his arms and walked her the short distance to the med bay. He set her back on the medical bed whose scan had sent Dione and Lithia to the planet in search of the right treatment and asked the computer to update him.

  “How’s the fever?” Bel asked, almost as if she were in a dream.

  “Not improving.” The medical bed was able to provide a numerical temperature, but Zane didn’t see any good in sharing that number. “It’s giving you more fever suppressants and requiring you get some rest.” He found a blanket in one of the storage compartments and covered her.