“Oh, how kind of you, making time for little ol’ me,” Ayan said with a wink.
“You know what I mean,” Oz said. “I was in a long distance relationship while I was out patrolling, and Jack kept on doing the same thing to me. The Roi du Ciel would get close enough to get live messaging going with Freeground and every one of our conversations would end in a fight. Sure, they started with apologies, but for weeks it was the same. Turns out, he started something at home but didn’t have the balls to let me go. You haven’t gotten together with anyone since the Samson crew went into hiding though, so I don’t think it’s the same thing.”
Ayan’s thoughts were filled with memories of Liam Grady getting close, offering comfort, advice, and most of all, she remembered countless hours of easy company with him. They were just talking, but she had trouble remembering who else was around when they were involved in conversation. “No, I like my social life simple,” she said.
Oz observed her until she pushed him away playfully. “There’s someone,” he concluded.
“You’re way off,” she replied.
“An affair of the heart still counts,” Oz whispered. “And no one would blame you, or even be surprised. Jake hasn’t exactly been around.”
“Bloody hell, if there’s anything we don’t have time for, it’s that,” Ayan said, laughing nervously. “You bugger, I didn’t realize there was anything-” her comm unit buzzed, sending an alert up the sleeve of her black vacsuit that told her that it was urgent.
“This is Alaka at the gate intake in Port Rush,” Alaka said.
“Yes, what’s going on?” Ayan replied.
“We have two proposed new hires from Freeground, they say that they were dropped off by the Sunspire. I thought you’d like to know right away.”
Ayan looked at Oz, who looked just as curious and surprised. “Who are they?” a small hologram of Remmy Sands, a mischievous looking, short, thin fellow saluting with a flourish appeared above her comm unit. Vivaldi’s uplifting ‘Spring’ piece was playing through the repeating animation and she couldn’t help but smile. “Remmy Sands, a former field intelligence officer for Freeground Fleet,” Ayan read aloud. She read the rest silently as it went into quick detail about his discharge from the military for breaking restricted information laws by viewing and sharing censored data. A look into the background of the file revealed a short, ancient black and white animation of a gangster drawing a gun on another man who wore a long canvass coat and hat, who raised his hands and shouted, “It’s all wrong, see? That private dick didn’t get the whole story straight!”
“Oh, he’s a character,” Oz said.
“This other one seems a little more conventional,” Ayan said as she looked at the profile for Trent Davi, a former Lieutenant for Freeground Fleet, specializing in boarding and ground missions. “His record is incredible, he led one of the teams that retook the Sunspire after it was taken over by the Holocaust Virus.”
“We need these people, especially since the conditions of their discharges look political,” Oz said. “Davi was tossed for gross civil disobedience resulting in broad demoralization. That’s no charge I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m going to head down and see what I can find out about the Sunspire,” Ayan said. “If she’s in the area, it’ll be massive.”
“I’ll see you down there in about three hours. We’ll have this wrapped up and Triton sent off by then.”
“Leave some time to get some sleep,” Ayan said. “I think we’ll need it.”
“Aye, Commander, you too,” Oz replied. “Oh, and, if you have time, follow your instincts. With whoever that other person in your life is,” he added. “I’m not good at giving love advice, but I know that’s the right thing to do in times like these.”
Chapter 40
To Enlighten And Elevate
Clark Patterson walked along on Eve’s left, while Lucius Wheeler was on her right, and all three of them followed the Child Prophet into the large inner sanctum of Lister Hampon. A thick silence hung between Wheeler and Patterson, and Eve could only assume it had something to do with how Wheeler had convinced him to come to the meeting, a meeting Hampon delayed for hours without explanation.
The knowledge Eve had gathered about the framework technology’s early days, combined with what Clark had given her when he transferred Alice’s memories into a new body, were enough to offer Hampon a proper solution to his deterioration. The question was, who would give it to him? With Patterson there, she didn’t have to use the treatment patch tucked under the sleeve of her dress.
Eve didn’t have much control over the situation, but she had enough. The Overlord II moved into a wormhole, making it impossible for her to contact her Eden Fleet, but she wasn’t the only person in the room that sought to remain free of Hampon’s control. She wouldn’t call them allies, but they had similar desires, and that made for more of an advantage than Eve had had in a long time.
The memories she’d lived thanks to Alice had done something, too. It seemed like she’d seen more of the galaxy, felt more adult emotions, and gone on a journey. It felt true even if she couldn’t remember it the way she could before; most of the experiences faded like an old dream. The result seemed the same. The sensation that she was no longer a hapless victim in her own life was powerful.
The broad, white circular floor around Hampon’s grisly throne was as pristine as ever. The black seat in the centre was facing away. People stopped what they were doing on the balconies overlooking the tall chamber as they entered.
The throne turned slowly, revealing the corpulent figure trapped in it. Two small medical droids worked to maintain tubes, patches, grafts, and supports as though a moment’s pause would lead to the failure of a part of Hampon’s body. His lower jaw had been completely removed, and a healing strap held up his tongue and head by his upper teeth. Expressive eyes looked at them from grisly sockets.
“Pardon me for not getting up,” said Hampon’s voice from somewhere in the room. The words were most certainly not spoken physically. But Eve couldn’t help but pity the man as she watched his adam’s apple twitch, as if trying to fight the tubes in his throat for a moment. She had never pitied him before. “I see you have aligned with new companions, Eve. Good, I’m glad you won’t be alone if you deny me what I paid for.”
“We’re not asking for much,” Wheeler said. “Freedoms, a little cash, and we have what you want.”
Eve couldn’t help but notice that the scraping sounds of Clark’s armour increased in volume and frequency as he began breathing faster. It was difficult to call him the Beast, after knowing his thoughts and some of his history, but then she only had to look at him to understand why he’d accepted the moniker.
“You offer a chance at a new life, immortality,” Hampon said. “What is your price? Be specific.”
“Leave the issyrians alone,” Clark said. “Stop destroying their habitats and let them live in their own territory.”
“Expensive,” Hampon replied. “I know you, Clark Patterson. There are hundreds of reports about the Beast of Uumen, champion of issyrian outcasts. If I grant you this, then you promise not to raise an army in defence of any other race. Not humans, not nafali, or any other race.”
Clark shifted from foot to foot for a moment, thinking. “You’ll withdraw from every issyrian world, give their ships safe passage and guarantee not to interfere with their homes for as long as I live.”
“A trick condition,” Hampon said. “You are immortal. Even more so than our most advanced framework being. I could forcibly remove every scrap of it from your system and you would still heal. Edxian, huss, and issyrian physiologies ensure your resurrection-like recovery abilities. We don’t understand how you work, Beast, but we know the possibilities you represent.”
“Then you know there is a good chance that the technology you want to use to recover won’t buy you more than a few years without my help. Even if you dissected me, I could hide my secrets for decades.”
&nbs
p; “That’s another thing we know about you: unwavering dedication to a cause, and confidence. So much confidence,” Hampon said.
“Only when I know I’m right,” the Beast replied.
“What do you want, Lucius Wheeler? Your bid for re-entry into Freeground’s ranks will fail when they discover that the Triton is out of your reach,” Hampon said. “I overheard Doctor Thurge’s latest message to you, that a rightful commander has stepped forward and taken possession. What do you want now?”
“Freedom. I don’t care if I have to start over with one ship and an idiot as a first mate. I want to be free to do what I want, when I want, where I want. No interference, no attempts at control. I’m no one’s puppet.”
“You forget,” Hampon said. “You were built by Regent Galactic. What precedent would I be setting if I were to set our machinery free? Especially since you carry memories from Collins, one of the best military commanders I’ve ever known. What have you brought to trade for all that?”
Wheeler pointed at Clark impatiently. “Him. Without me, you’d have to hunt him down across the galaxy, or he’d start a rebellion, gathering issyrians and whoever else he can find to fight you. Just by bringing him here, I’m making your life less complicated. I might even be saving your ass for good.”
“Your task is to derail the efforts of the original Freegrounders to rebuild on Tamber. That has been your task for as long as you’ve been alive,” Hampon said.
“And I’ve done that, even when you took my command and turned me out. I still pursued it. I know who’s going to win here, the game is rigged, and I want to be on your side. Just give me the freedom to do my part my way and have some fun at the same time.”
“I’ll consider it,” Hampon said. “Nora, what can I do for you? I’m fully aware that Clark has the finesse, but you built the interface that will make me whole again. You have it with you, scanners have already picked it up. What can I do for you?”
“My fleet, and the freedom to instruct them properly. I won’t be a key to another engine of destruction, I want to participate in deciding their purposes. I can connect with them, I know it, and I want to remain as a leader to the humans who believe in the better way you’ve shown me. They want to be led into eternity, to the paradises we can build for them. They can help build instead of contaminate and destroy.”
“Are you certain this is what you want, Nora? Has seeing life through another woman’s eyes convinced you that there’s enough goodness in humanity to enter into paradise without destroying it?”
“Yes, and call me Eve,” she said.
“You will not break from the Order of Eden with your fleet. Code that Collins added to all Eden Fleet entities makes it impossible. I’m telling you this so discovering it doesn’t surprise you.”
“I understand,” Eve said, knowing that she’d do everything she could to remove the code as soon as possible.
“I’m willing to grant you all everything you’ve requested,” Hampon said.
“Wait,” Clark said. “I have one more request.”
“Yes?” Hampon said.
“Leave Freeground out of all your conflicts. Destroy any aggressive ships they send against your forces, but don’t counter-attack.”
“Done,” Hampon replied. “I will not attack Freeground, the station, or either of the colonies they think are hidden from the galaxy. Now, it’s your turn to grant me my three wishes: transformation, health, and eternal life. Quickly, we’ll be emerging from the wormhole soon.”
The Beast looked to Wheeler, who nodded. Eve finally looked at him only to realize that he was staring at her, waiting for her approval. She nodded, and he strode towards Hampon, whose eyes widened at his approach.
A large, armoured hand was placed upon Hampon’s head, the Beast’s fingers found their way between small tubes and wires.
The Beast put his free hand to his head as though he’d been injured and withdrew, stumbling backwards several steps until his fell to his knees. Eve looked from him to Hampon. The robots tending him withdrew from their tasks, and tried to cover him with a black sheet.
“Pain,” Hampon’s voice announced throughout the room. His eyes rolled back into his head, then his twitching eyelids closed. His partial chest, the bag holding his organs, his hips and part of one leg twitched violently. Tubes were flung free, and Eve wondered if he’d survive the process.
His eyes snapped open. Eve could only assume that he didn’t scream at first because there was something wrong with his vocal chords. A proper throat and jaw began to form, and when his screams filled the chamber they were inhuman, rasping and gurgling. The upper half of his head grew brown hair, the tubes leading into his body were absorbed and transformed into human materials, and the framework system began drawing raw current from his chair.
Within seconds he had fresh legs, arms, a full torso, and he breathed as if he’d just finished a hard sprint. Hampon raised his head, revealing a healthy yet aged face with a prominent nose and piercing grey eyes. He started to smile and rise, then twitched bodily, slipping out of his chair awkwardly to land at the bottom of his dais. Anguished, half strangled cries filled the air as he writhed. Eve covered her ears, but she could still hear that screaming, as though something was being torn forcibly from his deepest innards.
The framework system began replacing cells that were affected by temporal radiation. Eve knew what was happening theoretically, but the reality was unexpected. As the infected portions of his body were replaced at incredible speed, they were turned out through his flesh. A bloody display of rejection and replacement as pieces of organs, flesh, and bone were pressed up through his skin, surrounding him in a hellish afterbirth. Every exposed cell in his body was being replaced several times a second, using energy drawn from his chair in violent arcs.
When it was over he was covered in gore, nude and curled up on his knees. He stood slowly, his new, white teeth gleaming through the crimson and black remains that clung to him. Several researchers dressed in red smocks approached him hurriedly and performed scans. “There is no trace of temporal radiation, Sir,” reported one cheerfully. “You’re cured.”
Robots moved in to clean the mess and decontaminate the area. “Immortality is not found in the children we have, the clones we make, the brain scan data we collect, or in framework duplicates,” he said, walking towards the Child Prophet. “This is immortality, the new flesh invented by intelligence, powered by electricity, and sourced from matter.”
The Child Prophet broke from his daze and scurried at the last moment, right before Hampon caught him by the throat. “You are a pitiful lie,” he said as he raised the adolescent clone up with both hands. Wheeler backed away, putting his hands up and shaking his head.
Eve followed his example, taking several steps back. The sounds of the Child Prophet struggling for air as he kicked his feet and tried to pry Hampon’s hands away from his throat made Eve’s stomach turn. The grisly birth was nothing compared to watching a boy in the beginning of adolescence die.
“You never had the potential to be better than me,” Lister Hampon said through clenched teeth. He renewed his efforts, throttling his clone’s thin neck with all his strength until he stopped struggling and a new foul smell filled the air. Hampon dropped him and looked down at the boy’s horror stricken face. “I feel alive again,” Hampon said. “Truly alive.”
Eve had no problem recalling the damage humanity did to the world she protected before she was put into stasis for over a century. There was a failure in logic that she could not comprehend when she watched a natural environment become an object for the harvest. That was what provoked her order to exterminate the humans in that solar system, and her fleet executed it without question or remorse.
What she saw in front of her was entirely different. It was the first time she’d been in the presence of true evil, and it was instantly recognizable. Clone or not, the Child Prophet was a boy who was living in his age of potential; what he could have become would remain a my
stery because someone had maliciously ended his life and derived obvious pleasure from the act.
“I don’t want to know this,” Clark Patterson said, slowly getting to his feet. “I don’t want to know what I saw when I touched your mind, Hampon.”
“We’re coming out of the wormhole,” Lister Hampon announced as he strode back to his seat. He stopped in front of it, where the gore of his rebirth had been before robots swiftly cleaned the mess. The balconies overlooking his seat with countless technicians and officers became obscured as a holographic starscape was projected all around them. “Pandem!” Lister Hampon shouted, pointing at the green-blue orb to his right. There were no ships in orbit from what Eve could see, strange for such a busy world. “The most populated planet in the new Order of Eden constellation of settlements. The count was four hundred twenty million settlers, most of which arrived in the last ten days. Tell us why they are here, Clark. Please, you must have seen something while you were digging around in my head.”
“I won’t,” Clark said. “It was your promise, not mine.”
“You’re right,” Hampon said. “I’ve been waiting to tell someone about this for a long time. It’s been difficult to convince people to go along with my Order of Eden since Collins died,” he looked to Wheeler then. “But you don’t remember anything about this either, do you?”
“Pandem? The Order of Eden?” Wheeler asked. “I remember the Victory Machine demanded that people be placed there, so we could avoid some catastrophe. There’s more about the cult, but it couldn’t apply.”
“That’s where it started,” Hampon said. “Whispers in the dark. Little mutterings I couldn’t ignore, messages that came from some prophetic thing that never made a mistake in its predictions. We used the information to force our way from desperate times with Vindyne into success with Regent Galactic. From a big company with a handfull of backwaters to a great big civilization teeming with billions of humans who were fully engaged in the cycle of capitalism. In a universe where humans can’t see past their noses, the man with the biggest beak can be the greatest visionary. A joke you might recognize from Collins’ repertoire.”
Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework Page 39
