by DuBoff, Amy
Looking at the rest of the schematics with that concept in mind, she started to see the overall design. It was a full-sized battleship.
“Will it work?”
Laecy jumped at the sound of the voice. She whipped around and saw High Commander Taelis standing in the doorway. “Sir, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Will the design work?” Taelis repeated.
“I have no idea, sir. I barely have a grasp of how it all fits together.”
“See what you can do. Wil needs a ship like this, whether he knows it yet or not. I need you to figure it out for him.”
Wil is probably the only person who could figure it out. “I’ll need to ask Wil about some of these components”
“No, don’t say anything to him about your work on this. He already has dismissed the design.”
“If he scrapped—” Laecy started to protest.
“We have reason to believe the dismissal was out of principle rather than technical limitation,” Taelis countered.
So who are we to question his decision? Laecy remained silent, knowing there was nothing she could say to change the High Commander’s mind. Besides, it wasn’t her place.
“We need this ship to win the war. Make it work without him.” Taelis departed as silently as he’d appeared.
CHAPTER 12
Haersen’s assignment to gather intelligence on the Imperial Director was a frustrating challenge. Since the Bakzen were conditioned to fulfill their role in society, breaking from daily routine was highly unusual. For Haersen to insert himself in a novel situation would be like taking out an ad that he was up to no good.
He needed a valid reason to visit the administrative headquarters—something that could only be done in person and would require access to the highest ranking personnel. And, it needed to stand up to the scrutiny of telepaths far stronger than himself. He needed to tell the truth—or a version of it, anyway. But even then, he wouldn’t be able to walk in the front door and gain access. However, there might be a way.
The administrative complex was garish by Bakzen standards, with ten stories of white concrete and glass that could almost fit into a traditional Taran city. Extra decorative ledges and geometric engraving in the concrete panels were superfluous details, underscoring the waste in the current administrative regime.
Inside, the lobby of the administrative building bore a close resemblance to structures serving a similar purpose on Tararia. Haersen had only seen the Bakzen building from a distance previously, and the presence of indoor plants caught him by surprise at first. But, he reminded himself that those were for air purification, not decoration.
A wide reception desk was situated four meters inside the lobby across from the rotating entry door. Two Bakzen guards sat behind the desk. Their glowing red eyes narrowed as Haersen approached.
“Who are you?” the guard on the right asked.
Haersen was used to such questions. He didn’t pass as a drone upon detailed inspection, and he clearly wasn’t an officer. Outsiders were an anomaly warranting the utmost scrutiny. “My name is Arron Haersen. I am an advisor in General Tek’s office.”
The guard glanced at his identical colleague and then returned his steely gaze to Haersen. “You’re not one of us.”
“I am now,” Haersen replied, “though not by birth.”
“Identification,” the first guard demanded.
Haersen scanned his wrist over the indicated device on the desktop.
The guards examined his credentials, which supported his claim. “Why are you in this office?” the second guard asked.
“I have information,” Haersen replied.
“Relay it to your commander,” the first guard stated. “If you’re one of us, you know the protocol.”
Haersen shook his head. “Tek was unable to come here himself. This is sensitive information. Electronic relay may be intercepted, so he asked me to present the message directly.”
“Whom is the message for?” the second guard asked.
“The Imperial Director.”
The first guard raised a telekinetic barrier, poised to act. “You’re not authorized for a meeting.”
“But this information involves the Imperial Director’s safety,” Haersen insisted.
The first guard unleashed a telekinetic grapple, throwing Haersen to the ground in an instant.
Haersen winced as his face hit the polished concrete floor, but he remained calm. It was all part of the plan. “I wish to speak with the Imperial Director, on orders of General Tek.”
“The General will need to verify your orders,” the first guard stated as he telekinetically yanked Haersen to his feet, his hands pinned at his sides.
Two additional guards emerged from beyond the security blockade separating the lobby from the rest of the building. They took over the telekinetic hold and directed Haersen into a cramped room on the first level. He was thrown into a chair, and his wrists secured by a wire behind his back. They left him alone in the room, bolting him inside.
Haersen sighed as soon as he was alone. Having to do everything the Bakzen way was tedious at times.
He waited for what felt like an hour, though without a clock it was difficult to tell. Finally, he heard the door bolt release.
A guard identical to those from the lobby entered. “Tek confirmed your orders, but he would not vouch for your loyalty.”
Haersen groaned inwardly. He was on his own. “You may place me under any level of guard. It is imperative that I speak with the Imperial Director in person.”
“He has been informed of the situation and is curious about what you have to say.”
“Then take me to him,” Haersen requested.
“Under the circumstances, I thought it better to come to you,” an elderly Bakzen said from the doorway.
Haersen looked up in surprise. The Imperial Director appeared far older and less formidable in person than he did in any of the videos Haersen had seen. No wonder Tek was doubting his leadership. “Sir, thank you for agreeing to speak with me.”
“Say what you came to say,” the Imperial Director stated.
Haersen wet his thin lips. “I have heard rumors of a plot against you.”
“It’s Tek, isn’t it?” the Imperial Director asked, his face devoid of emotion.
“What makes you ask that, sir?”
The Imperial Director shook his head, as if weary from a recurring issue. “He’s never been fully aligned with the rest of us. But I suppose we made him that way.”
If Tek was a different genetic line than the others, he’d never mentioned it to Haersen. “Sir, what do you mean?”
“He was raised from a child.”
Haersen took a moment to find his voice. “Born to a birth mother?”
“No, of course not!” the Imperial Director responded. “He was aged for three years in a tank like any other. And I wish we’d never thought to pull him out early.”
It was the first Haersen has ever heard of a Bakzen clone being extracted prior to full maturity. The aging process typically took seven years, meaning that extraction after three years would equate to roughly an eight-year-old Taran. “Why not age him all the way, sir? Why is he different?”
“We wanted him to be able to learn naturally—through experience rather than imprinting. He’s of my same line, I’m sorry to say. The most ancient of the Bakzen lines, tracing back to our earliest leadership. When we heard the coming of the Cadicle was near, we knew the war with Tararia would be coming to an end. It was a moment of weakness to think that following their example of letting a child grow up on their own would produce better results. No… Tek is emotional and unpredictable. That doesn’t make for a strong leader.”
Haersen did some quick mental math. There was no way Tek had been “born” at the same time as Wil. “What foretold you of the Cadicle’s coming?”
The Imperial Director frowned, to the extent his stoic face allowed. “Another misstep by my former colleagues. They were twenty
years too soon—thinking that the elder Sietinen brother would be the father. His untimely death upset more than just the Priesthood’s plans.”
“You intended Tek to face the Cadicle, sir?” Haersen questioned.
“Not directly, no. We only hoped to have someone to think more like our Taran enemies. And perhaps he does… Except, his ambition is not the way of the Bakzen.”
Not the way of historical Bakzen, perhaps, but Tek was not alone in his vision for the future. Haersen thought better than to question the Imperial Director, so he remained silent.
“And yet, you aligned yourself with Tek,” the Imperial Director mused.
“He was the only one to take me in,” Haersen said. “When the Bakzen approached me during my TSS internship, I saw your superiority. I wanted to work with you. But, most Bakzen officers only saw me as a pawn—someone to give inside knowledge of the TSS and the young Cadicle. Tek, though, offered me a chance to be better. To be more like you.”
“That was enough to sway you?”
Haersen shook his head. “How could I maintain my allegiance to a people that wished those with my abilities didn’t exist?”
“Maybe you do see things as we do.” The Imperial Director straightened his uniform and took a step toward the door. “Go back now to report your findings to Tek,” the old Bakzen stated. “Tell him this: if he intends to take my position, he will need to take it by force. I will never willingly hand over the future of the Bakzen to him. He will lead us to our end.” He paused. “And Haersen—choose your allies carefully.”
The Imperial Director exited, leaving Haersen temporarily alone with his thoughts.
Far from the meeting he had envisioned, the conversation was illuminating nonetheless. Tek’s unusual upbringing set him apart, and that vision offered the greatest opportunity for the Bakzen. The Imperial Director had no doubt divulged the information in an attempt to get Haersen to turn against Tek, by citing perceived flaws. Except, Tek’s deviations from the norm were his foremost strengths. Regardless of the Imperial Director’s feelings, Haersen was confident in his choice of leader. No words could sway him, and he would never disseminate any information to undermine Tek’s mission. He owed Tek too much for his new life.
After three minutes, a guard entered the room to remove the binding on Haersen’s wrists. “You are free to go,” he stated, gesturing toward the door.
Haersen rose and rubbed his wrists, still processing his first encounter with the Imperial Director. The report wouldn’t be what Tek wanted. He had learned nothing about the Imperial Director’s routine or weaknesses in security. But, the information he gleaned had been valuable nonetheless. The Imperial Director would see Tek coming, but he had made no mention of others. With the right group, they could walk in and take control before anyone knew what was happening.
CHAPTER 13
Wil rolled to his side and pulled a pillow over his head, trying to block out the low, pulsating tone intruding on his consciousness. With a start, he shook off the haze of sleep. The sound was Headquarters’ warning alarm.
What the…? Wil bolted upright in bed. In all his years at Headquarters, he’d never heard the alarm outside of a test drill.
He threw back the covers and grabbed his handheld from his nightstand. There was no message or any other indication anything was amiss.
Wil pulled on his pants and ran into the living room, slipping his handheld into his pocket. The normally subtle orange lights along the baseboard were glowing red, and a red light pulsed above the entry door.
It’s impossible to break into Headquarters. Except… The Bakzen had made it in once before.
He hurriedly dismissed the thought—too frightening a notion to acknowledge.
Wil palmed open the door to the hallway, which had automatically bolted in the lockdown. He poked his head into the corridor and saw his father jogging toward him.
“What’s going on?” Wil asked.
“No idea,” Cris replied, the worry evident in his exposed eyes. “CACI can’t—or won’t—tell us what triggered the alarm.”
“That’s…”
“Impossible, like a thousand other things. Go to your men. I’ll figure it out.”
Wil nodded. “I’ll get Saera and stay in the Primus Elite’s quarters.”
Cris looked like he was about to protest but changed his mind. “I’ll call once we know more.”
Wil took off down the hall toward the Primus Junior Agents’ wing. He followed his bond to Saera and relayed a message to her mind. “I’m coming to you. Get ready to go.” Continuing to keep his relationship with her a secret wasn’t worth the risk.
* * *
Michael glanced around at the scared faces of the other Primus Elite trainees. When the alarm sounded, they had congregated in the common room connecting the four bedrooms. The red glow in the room made it quite clear something was wrong.
“What do we do?” Ollie, one of the pilots in Ethan’s squad, asked.
“We should stay put,” Michael advised. “We don’t go anywhere without instruction.”
“Do you think it’s a test?” Ethan pondered.
Maybe, but this doesn’t seem like Wil’s style. Michael ran back into his room to retrieve his handheld. “I’m calling Wil.”
“If it’s a test—” Ian started to protest.
“Then he’ll want to know we’ll look to him for leadership first,” Michael replied as he initiated the call. He joined the others back in the common room.
A chime sounded while Michael waited for the call to connect. Wil answered, “Is everyone okay?”
“We’re fine. What’s—”
“Stay put,” Wil ordered. “I need to make a stop and then I’ll come there.”
“Okay.” Michael ended the call. “He’s on his way,” he told the group.
“So it’s not a drill,” Curtis surmised.
“He sounded worried,” Michael admitted.
“We’re all going to die!” Kalin exclaimed, always needing to provide melodramatic relief.
“Everyone get dressed,” Michael instructed. “We may need to leave on short notice.”
“You heard him!” Ethan said as he jogged back to his room, turning to meet Michael’s gaze with silent understanding.
Anything could happen. They needed to be ready.
* * *
Wil dashed down the stairwell to the floor below containing the Junior Agent and Initiate quarters. Saera’s room was in the same quadrant on the circular Level 2 as his own quarters, so the stairs brought him close to his destination. He veered to the right once out of the stairwell and ran the rest of the way.
The warning tone had been silenced—probably by his father—but the red lights remained.
Wil reached Saera’s door and used his officer’s code to override the emergency lock.
The door beeped as it unlocked and slid open. Saera approached the doorway. Behind her were her three roommates, one of which Wil recognized as her friend Elise. The other two Wil had encountered in past assignments as a class instructor. The three sets of eyes were eyeing him with bewilderment, and Saera looked relieved. The secret was out.
“Come on, we need to get to the Elite’s,” Wil said to Saera, ignoring the others in the room.
“Do you know what the alarm is about?” Saera asked.
“No.” Wil took her and urged her into the hall.
“Be careful,” Saera called to her roommates, looking specifically at a confused Elise.
The door slid shut as Wil broke into a jog down the hallway, still grasping Saera’s hand.
She kept pace with him. “What would cause an automatic lockdown?”
“A breach in security. It’s a new protocol initiated after the Bakzen broke in to capture me.”
Saera gripped his hand tighter. “Do you think it’s them?”
“No,” Wil replied. “This isn’t how they operate.” But dealing with the unknown might be worse.
They reached the end of the J
unior Agents’ wing. Wil paused at the opening to the central elevator lobby. It appeared empty, but an unseen infiltrator might be lurking nearby.
He made a telepathic sweep of the lobby. No one seemed to be around. “This isn’t right,” he murmured while leading Saera across the lobby at a jog. “My dad said CACI couldn’t identify a trigger for the alarm.”
Saera frowned. “So it was initiated remotely?”
“Maybe. But that begs the question, ‘why?’”
They reached the empty hall on the opposite side of the lobby. Wil ran another telepathic sweep. It was still clear.
“I don’t want to worry the others,” Wil continued, “but we have no idea what’s going on.”
“Great.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Wil assured her.
“I’m glad you brought me with you. When the alarm sounded, I wasn’t sure what to do.”
Wil eyed her playfully despite his tension. “Did you orchestrate all of this just to support the case for moving in with me?”
Saera smiled back. “That would have been brilliant.”
The Primus Elites’ quarters were in the center block of the residential wing. No one else was in the surrounding corridors, making the red-bathed hall even more ominous.
When they reached their destination, Wil took a deep breath. “Ready?”
Saera nodded.
Wil unlocked and slid open the entry door. Inside, the common room was empty.
Don’t tell me they left. Wil stepped inside with Saera and reset the lock. “Guys?”
All of the bedroom doors were sealed, except for the front left bedroom that was open a crack. Ethan peered out through the opening. “It’s him,” he said, and then noticed Saera, “and he’s not alone.”
The other bedroom doors slid open and the men stepped out into the common room. All eyes were on Saera.
Wil looked them over. “So, this is my fianceé, Saera. I didn’t plan on you meeting quite this way, but—” He cut off when he heard a low whisper from one of the navigation specialists, Kevin, to his neighbors.
“I foking called it.”
“Called what?” Wil asked him.
Kevin’s face flushed. “Nothing, sir.”
