Children of the Void: Book One of the Aionian Saga

by Jack Halls

  Hannah stepped up onto a boulder. “I’ll take anyone who’s ready to go now.” That was all the encouragement any of them needed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Camp

  LESS THAN HALF an hour later, the group marched into a clearing littered with tents and gear. The shuttles sat in the middle of the clearing while people milled about. At the sight of the group emerging from the forest, people in the camp shouted, coming out of their tents to take a look.

  “This camp is disgraceful,” said Vincent, eyeing the clearing. Here and there, an occasional guard idled around the perimeter with a rifle slung over their shoulder, but other than that, there was a conspicuous lack of defenses.

  “I guess Devereux doesn’t quite get it,” said Connor. “We’re going to have to do something about this.”

  Members of the group would break off occasionally when they spotted a loved one. There was an equal share of laughter and tears as more and more of them found a familiar face to run to. Many of Gideon and Takomi’s friends were among those coming to greet them, but each second Gideon became more and more frantic as he scanned the faces for his dad. He hadn’t noticed that he was gripping Takomi’s hand. Or she was gripping his.

  The face he sought didn’t materialize from among the throng of survivors. Gideon asked people until he got the attention of a crewman he knew, but the crewman shrugged. “They’ve got a list on that big rock over there,” he said, pointing over to a large boulder off to one side of the clearing.

  Gideon took off running, dragging Takomi behind him. They reached the boulder, circling it until they found a list of names written with chalk on the flat side. The list was huge, divided into three categories: Alive, Missing, Killed.

  The first name on the list of those missing was Ethan Killdeer. He let out a sigh. As long as his father was missing, there was still a chance he was alive.

  Takomi cried out. “No. No. No. No!” She pounded her fist on the boulder until a crack appeared on its surface. She fell to her knees sobbing and gasping for breath. Gideon’s eyes flew to the list of those who were confirmed dead. It didn’t take him long to find the names of Hiro and Diana Tsukamoto.

  Gideon felt sick. “Takomi, I...” There were no words for what he wanted to say. He reached out to put a hand on her arm, but she slapped it away. She turned and ran in the opposite direction, pulling off her helmet and wiping away her tears. He stood there awkwardly. As Takomi disappeared into the camp, he struggled to define how he was feeling. So many people he’d taken for granted growing up, gone forever.

  The longer he stood next to the stone, the more an oppressive weight pushed down on his shoulders, and he too had to remove his helmet to wipe away his tears. A chalky stone lay next to the rock, and he reached down and picked it up. Falling to his knees, he added the names of those they had found. Veronica Hallows, Sanjay Patel, Garth and Jared Fitzsimmons, and the rest. All told, there were three hundred sixty-six confirmed dead, an unbelievable number. “Pauline,” he said, barely able to push the word through his emotions, “find out if you can confirm this list of those killed.”

  His AI responded immediately. “Data from the shuttles in the area confirm two hundred ninety-two crew members killed in the destruction of the Leviathan and the ensuing battle. The remaining figures were logged into the shuttles’ systems manually within the last seventy-two hours.”

  Gideon swallowed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “How were the Tsukamotos killed?”

  “Diana and Hiro Tsukamoto were aboard a shuttle that was destroyed by enemy fire. Probability of survival zero percent.”

  Gideon gritted his teeth. For several moments, he kneeled in the dirt with his eyes closed, chalk in hand, until he calmed down again. When he opened his eyes, he was looking at the name of his father written on the stone.

  “Pauline,” he said in a shaky voice, barely able to ask his next question, “what is the probability that my father could have survived a halo jump during the battle?” The moment he spoke the words, he regretted it, but his AI responded before he could cancel the request.

  “Given known variables, the probability that Admiral Killdeer survived a halo jump from orbit is twenty-three percent.”

  Gideon’s jaw dropped and he stood. There was a one-in-four chance that his father was still alive? That was more than enough.

  “Pauline, do you know where his trajectory would have taken him?”

  “I do not. It is impossible to calculate given the lack of data.”

  Gideon nodded his head and stood. So it was possible his father was still alive somewhere on the surface of this massive planet. Possibilities danced across his imagination, filling him with hope and dread. He was still in this mindset when gravel crunched under someone’s feet nearby. Padre stood by his side, looking at the writing on the rock.

  “So many lost,” he said, his voice low and thick. “I am so sorry Gideon.” He turned to look at the boy with moist eyes. The look Gideon returned him was one of determination.

  “I’m going to find my father,” he said.

  Padre sighed and gave Gideon a sad smile. “I admire your faith in him, Gideon, but the chances are...”

  “Twenty-three percent.”

  Padre blinked. “Twenty-three percent? Of what?”

  “My AI calculated that there was a twenty-three percent chance that he survived the halo jump.”

  Padre cocked his head to one side and looked up at the admiral’s name written on the stone. The ubiquitous smile returned to his face, along with a twinkle in his eye. “Well, that’s more than enough for Ethan Killdeer.”

  Gideon smiled. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

  “But how do we find him?”

  “The signal from his Sentinel Armor. If we can use a shuttle to program some of the drones to look for it, we might have a chance.”

  “Of course,” said Padre. “That’s brilliant, Gideon. Let’s see if we can’t get into one of those shuttles.”

  They made their way back to the center of the camp, where Vincent was shouting something about tightening up security at some of the crew. Vincent’s wife, Alexia, stood next to him with one arm around Joseph. Alexia looked like a child standing between her husband and son. Gideon smiled to see that at least one family was still intact.

  They reached one of the shuttles to find it guarded by two men. They greeted Padre and Gideon, saying how happy they were to see them alive. After the pleasantries, Padre asked to take a look inside the shuttle. The two guards looked at each other. One of them gathered the courage to answer Padre. “Commander Devereux said that...”

  “Commander Devereux?” said Padre. “Who said that he’s in charge?”

  “Well,” said the guard, looking at his companion for support. “I guess he did, but he is the ranking officer.”

  “Not anymore,” said Padre. “Major Vincent Uritumbo is head of security. So if Devereux is trying to pull rank, he’s going to have to take it up with him.” He turned to look over his shoulder at Vincent, who had finished dispatching the crew to improve the camp’s defenses. “Major Uritumbo,” Padre called, getting the big man’s attention, “do you think you could clear something up for us?”

  Gideon knew that Devereux technically did outrank Vincent; however, Padre’s move had the desired effect. Upon seeing the massive warrior walking toward them in his black Sentinel Armor, what little resolve the guards had left vanished.

  “What’s going on?” asked Vincent.

  “These gentlemen are under orders from Commander Devereux to secure this shuttle and keep everyone out. I was wondering if, as chief security officer, you felt it would be all right if I take a quick peek at the shuttle’s computer?”

  Vincent grunted. “Well, I have a few things I’d like to tell the Commander about the way he runs a military camp.”

  Gideon felt sorry for Devereux. He wouldn’t want to be in the commander’s shoes when Vincent found him. “For starters, why are you two guardin
g this shuttle when our perimeter has holes the size of the Void in it?”

  The two guards swallowed hard. One of them managed to speak up. “We were just doing what we were told. Didn’t know the perimeter...”

  “Well, now you know,” said Vincent. “I want the two of you clearing all the underbrush within one hundred meters of the tree line. I don’t want a squirrel to be able to sneak up on us, is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” they said in unison. They saluted and both got out of there as fast as they could.

  “Vincent,” said Padre, “I am so glad that we are friends.”

  Vincent gave Padre one of his rare smiles. “You would have sorted it out eventually.” He looked back in the direction of the camp’s command tent. “I don’t know what’s wrong with Devereux. This camp’s a mess, and no one seems to be scouting the surrounding area. If you don’t need anything else, I think I’m going to go have a talk with him.” He didn’t wait for a reply before he turned and walked away.

  “Poor Commander Devereux,” said Padre as he and Gideon stepped into the shuttle. “I wouldn’t wish Vincent’s wrath on anyone.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Found and Lost

  INSIDE THE SHUTTLE, Gideon was surprised that no attempt had been made to connect with the drones.

  “What has gotten into Devereux?” asked Padre as he played with the signal. “It’s like he’s waiting around for someone else to do everything.”

  Padre continued to manipulate the console for several minutes before Gideon realized the priest didn’t really know what he was doing. He politely offered to take over, and within thirty seconds, he connected to one of the few satellites they still had in orbit and used it to find a drone. Once he did, he used it to relay commands to the rest, and in a few moments, he had control of the whole network.

  “See here,” Gideon said, pointing to the display, “right now they’re collecting data in specific zones. They aren’t looking for radio waves. But all we have to do is create an algorithm for them to follow and they’ll comb the entire planet. If one of them manages to get within ten kilometers or so of a beacon, they’ll alert us immediately.”

  “Amazing,” said Padre, staring at the dots moving across the map display. “How long will it take you?”

  “Give me ten minutes.”

  Gideon manipulated the computer. The AI took care of most of the tedious work; all he had to do was direct it. When he was finished, he swiveled around in his chair. “All right,” he said. “Now we wait.”

  “Nice work, Gid,” said Padre. He stood and stretched. “I don’t know about you, but I could use some hot food and a good nap.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Gideon. “I wouldn’t complain if somebody has something to eat besides the goop we’ve had since we landed.”

  They exited the shuttle through the back. Hope lifted his spirits for the first time in days. Vincent was in the center of the camp arguing with someone. Gideon immediately recognized Devereux’s voice.

  “Sounds like trouble,” said Padre. “You go on and get out of here. I’ll go make sure Vincent doesn’t tie Devereux into a pretzel. No reason for you to get involved.”

  Gideon smiled and nodded his head. He wasn’t going to try to convince Padre otherwise. He went off in the opposite direction, not really sure what to do next. For the last few days, his only thought had been to rejoin the group. Now that he was here and had the drones out looking for his dad, he felt lost.

  Looking around the camp, it became clear that he wasn’t the only one feeling listless. Here and there, someone was working on some project or other, but for the most part, people seemed to idle about. It was easy to imagine what his father would say about this. He wandered about the camp until he found himself drawn to the list of names scrawled into the rock, and before he knew it, he was looking over the lists again.

  In his grief he had forgotten all the other names. He now looked over it more closely, finding friends and teachers, people he’d known his whole life categorized like the animals he’d been enumerating these last few days. Suddenly, he realized that Takomi, Joseph, and he were the only survivors of their Generation. Pressure swelled in his chest and throat, but he had no more tears to shed for them.

  Once again, his eyes fell on the names of Takomi’s parents. Her cries of anguish echoed in his memory, and he thought of how she’d been there for him when his mother had died. He had a sudden urge to find her and say something thoughtful to dull the pain. He cast his eyes around the camp but didn’t see her.

  He looked between tents and behind crates. After a moment, he stopped and smacked his palm against his forehead, then slipped his visor over his eyes. “Pauline, where’s Takomi?” A beacon flashed in his HUD. He followed it, feeling a strange urgency. He found himself running toward the beacon.

  It led him out of the perimeter of the camp and into the woods. He passed the two men who had guarded the shuttle, now clearing brush from under the trees. They looked up, but he didn’t acknowledge them, and he was gone before they could say anything.

  He came to a stream and leapt over it, the beacon leading him up to a cluster of rocks, where the stream tumbled down in a small cascade. He walked into the circle of stones and saw Takomi sitting alone on the bank with her knees pulled up to her chest.

  She turned as he approached. Gideon removed his helmet and saw that her eyes were red but no longer wet. He thought she looked so much older than the girl that used to walk with him after school. A crooked half-smile softened her face, and he gave her one back. He walked over and sat on the bank next to her, looking down into the gurgling stream.

  They both sat in silence for a while, as if speaking would break the tranquility. Gideon looked around the clearing, taking in his surroundings for the first time. The sun came down through the trees right over this spot, shining down on the small waterfall and reflecting off the wet rocks. Moss clung to the stones as the water sped by. The bank opposite them was lush with green plants and strange flowers. The only sound was the bubbling stream.

  Silence continued to build until Gideon desperately wanted to speak, or to hear her speak. Yet everything he wanted to say to her sounded ridiculous in his head. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and had to say something. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” He immediately regretted it. Although he’d barely spoken above a whisper, the sound of his voice in the peaceful glen was like a heavy stone hurled into a still pool.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Takomi nodding. While he had searched for her, his mind had come up with a hundred things to say, but now they seemed stupid and hollow. Right now they were inside a bubble, and saying too much, or the wrong thing, would burst it and bring reality crashing back down on them. He didn’t want to destroy the silence again, and was relieved that Takomi hadn’t said anything in reply.

  Takomi leaned forward and rested her chin on her knees. Gideon thought of their last night on the Leviathan, sitting alone together on the observation deck looking down on Valkyrie. The urge to touch her, to hold her was so much stronger now, and this time, he didn’t hesitate. The moment his arm was around her, she melted into him, putting her head in his chest and throwing her arm around his neck. She let out a long sigh as Gideon put his other arm around her and squeezed awkwardly through the Sentinel Armor.

  They stayed that way for some time, and Gideon wished the moment would never end, that they could stay here in this peaceful glade forever and forget about the horrors and heartache all around them. Takomi looked up at him, her brown eyes staring directly into his. It was the closest he had ever been to her.

  She smiled the saddest smile he had ever seen, and Gideon could feel his heart breaking. “I don’t know what to do, Gid,” she said as her voice and chin quivered. “I just want them back.”

  All he could do was nod. He closed his eyes and leaned forward until their foreheads rested against one another’s, and they cried softly together. They stayed that way for severa
l minutes, until both of them were breathing normally again. Gideon pulled away from her and opened his eyes. She opened her eyes too, and they looked at each other. She smiled, brought her hand up, and placed it against his neck.

  He took a deep breath, trying to slow down his pounding heart, then leaned in toward her. She closed her eyes, and his lips brushed up against hers. Immediately, the thought popped into his mind that it had been a lousy first kiss. Apparently, she had the same thought, because she opened her eyes, looked at him, then reached up and pulled him in to show him how to do it properly.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Hope

  GIDEON SOON DISCOVERED that kissing was his favorite thing in the world. The next thing he discovered was that kissing for too long got pretty weird when the couple involved didn’t know what they were doing. After a while, they contented themselves with holding each other on the bank and sharing an occasional peck.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, Gideon knew they should be getting back, but he just wanted the rest of the world to fade away for a while. A small sound snapped him out of the spell. He sat up and looked around for the source of the noise. He realized it was coming from his helmet, so he slipped it on.

  “Sir,” said Pauline, “a drone has picked up a signal ninety-eight kilometers north of here.”

  Gideon stood suddenly, and Takomi looked up at him.

  “What?” she asked. “What is it?”

  Gideon barely heard her. “Pauline, is the drone able to find the source of the signal? Is it my dad?”

  “Unknown,” answered Pauline. “The drone network has gone offline and is unresponsive.”

  Gideon pulled his visor down over his eyes. “Show me.” A glowing map appeared in the air in front of him. Takomi caught on and pulled her helmet on as well.

  “I can’t see it, Gid.”