Yet this sequence went beyond anything …
The door flung open. Joa filled the threshold, pistol in hand.
“Trouble. I think.”
“News about Mei?”
“No. A guest. Sort of. Wants to see you.”
Ham grabbed his own pistol and followed. He didn’t anticipate what awaited him in the front room.
The object hovered close to the ceiling. At first blush, it appeared to be a butterfly, but the wingspan was too great, and the metallic components shimmered. Jai trained a collider pistol on the drone.
“It was the proper knock,” Joa said. “I opened the door, and it buzzed right on in. Asked for you straight away. Said the message was urgent. That one of your Chancellor toys?”
“No.” The components were unfamiliar. Ham aimed his pistol. “I’m Hamilton Cortez. You’re here for me?”
“I am.” The drone’s voice was pillow soft. “I have a message. Mi Cha is safe. We will protect her. Please lower your weapon.”
Logic told Ham not to fall for the deception. But nothing today followed logic. He complied.
A hologram opened beneath the drone.
What he saw simply was not possible. And yet …
“Hello, Ham. It’s been a very long time, my friend.”
Exogenesis
Artemis Station
Planetoid Y-14, Oorton System
Standard Year (SY) 5365
E XETER KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG when Amayas retreated to his subterranean lab and remained there for days. How could he distance himself at a time of such rapid progress? Staff on Artemis doubled, “miracles” for the colonies were under construction at a rapid pace, here and in other systems, and the Collectorate-wide announcement of the alliance was a few months away. All their dreams on the brink and yet, Amayas turned over base responsibilities to his senior lieutenants. Of equal concern to Exeter, the Inventor removed all three Splinters from the demonstration lab.
Amayas did not respond to his comm but sent a message saying he was to be left alone until further notice. Exeter and senior staff convened, and the consensus focused on continuing the work while trusting in Amayas.
Exeter did not agree. “This has been Amayas’s dream since I met him,” he told the staff. “He sees a problem – perhaps with the Splinters – and he’s taking it on himself so we will not worry. But we have an obligation to our Inventor. He needs to know we stand at his side in all things.”
“We are at his side so long as we complete our duties here,” Simone D’Chinou said. “He created the Splinters. He alone knows how to repair them, if indeed they are the issue.”
Others nodded, and some left to resume their work.
“We have all journeyed into their heart and seen the fragments,” Exeter said. “Our observations can be valuable.”
Simone, known to clients by the pseudo Missus, shook her head.
“Exeter, you have been with him longer than almost anyone, so I understand the depth of your love. But do not allow your love for him to cloud practical judgment or expertise. Amayas possesses a unique skillset none of us understands. He has explored the depths of the universe in ways unmatched. He holds secrets he dares not share with ordinary minds like ours. If he requests our presence, we join him. Otherwise, we have our duties.”
It wasn’t what Exeter wanted to hear, and he damn well wasn’t going to stand for it. The necessary thing is the simplest.
He lived by the mantra Amayas taught him.
Exeter continued his shift in C&C until its conclusion, but he made sure to eliminate secure cam feeds from the adjacent corridors to the lift and disabled access codes. The rest was simple. While second shift retired to the galley and before third shift had time to settle in, Exeter took the lift to the subterranean level.
He knew where to find Amayas. He took charge of a rifter and traveled the half kilometer through the cavernous structure and then turned north to the platform where Amayas did his best work before his allies came to know him as the Inventor. Where Exeter found purpose inside the cylinder.
Amayas was asleep at his workstation, a Splinter glowing in his lap.
One?
Exeter searched the platform but found no others. He didn’t want to theorize, so he tapped Amayas on the shoulder. The Inventor woke with a start, fumbling the Splinter. He regained his senses in a hurry.
“Ah. There you are,” he said. “I knew you’d never stay away. Did you have to fight them?”
“They have no idea.”
“Good. Everything is playing out the way it should.”
“What do you mean? And where are the other Splinters?”
Amayas shook off the nap and stood to stretch.
“Gone.”
“What? Where?”
“The required spaces, far and in between.”
“I’m sorry, Amayas. I don’t understand.”
“Remember the song? ‘All the generations see. All the generations hear. They are broken.’ Remember?”
“Yes.”
“I understand it now. Too late, as fortune might have it. I am sorry, Exeter. I thought I understood everything, but I overlooked the most important truth of all.”
“You’re frightening me.”
“Don’t get me wrong. There’s still hope. But it can’t be as we imagined. Not anymore. All this,” he said, scanning the expanse, “will be ending soon. Some of our allies will be coming for me when they also realize what’s happened.”
“Which is what? Please, Amayas. Everyone topside believes you’re taking care of the problem. What is the problem?”
He held up the cube and pointed to the singularity at its heart.
“All the generations see. All the generations hear. They are broken.”
“What does it mean, Amayas?”
“I thought the cube was our compass everywhere. But it is also our compass to everyone. Every door. Every divide. Every generation. Every permutation. The doors are opening. The divides are falling. And now the generations can see and hear. We are not on the brink of paradise. We stand on the edge of an endless nightmare, and I brought it upon us.”
“You’re not making sense.”
To Exeter’s great surprise, Amayas produced a hearty smile and kissed his disciple on the forehead.
“Fortunately, there’s a way to hold off utter collapse. And you, Exeter, stand at the center of our defense.”
He wrapped one arm around Exeter and guided the young man to the cylinder, holding the Splinter in his other hand.
“The journey will be long and likely painful,” the Inventor continued. “The odds will require an occasional turn of luck, but you will trigger these events. You are steadfast and loyal, which will be necessary. As will perseverance. Take your seat.”
He pointed to the pilot’s chair in which Exeter spent many hours journeying through the cylinder’s wonders. Exeter hesitated.
“Wait. You … where are the other Splinters? What journey? Perseverance to do what? Answer me.”
“I was drawn to you from the beginning,” Amayas said. “I recognized what you were. So did Katherine, unfortunately. We struck a deal, but she came to see it differently. I regret telling her how I believed you might fit into my plans. Otherwise, I think she would still be with us.”
“What about me? Why did I kill her?”
“Please, Exeter. Strap in, and I’ll tell you everything. It’s all good. Trust me.”
He wanted to, but there was a tinge of unfamiliar desperation in the Inventor’s tone. It was enough to make Exeter resist. Plead his case, insist on answers, make the choice freely. If nothing else, Exeter earned a full explanation. He stood his ground.
“No. Answers first.”
He knew it was a risk. No one made demands of the Inventor. Even the slightest whiff of dissent wasn’t tolerated. The episode a year earlier with the Chancellors ratcheted up the paranoia.
“The chair,” Amayas said. “Now, Exeter.”
“No.”
A sharp blast of heat cut into his chest, searing his right lung. Exeter looked down and saw a smoking hole in his bodysuit and a laser pistol aiming upward. He hear Amayas apologize. Then, the darkness.
When he woke, Exeter felt no pain, only a mild tingle where the blast penetrated. He was buckled in tight to the pilot’s chair, his arms immobile. Directly above him, the Splinter glowed bright, encased in the drive panel that initiated the cylinder. Amayas rubbed a hand through Exeter’s blond locks.
“I was nervous,” the Inventor said. “You took longer than I’ve seen with others.”
“Others? Wait. What happened to me?”
“Death is final unless it’s not. The first time I saw you, I knew. You fit the pattern. A quick scan confirmed it. But I swore Katherine to secrecy. You were too young to appreciate the implications, and you’d been through months of trauma. Best to offer you a simple life. Yes?”
“What?”
“Two years ago, Katherine thought you should know about your genetic variance. I disagreed. Too much baggage, and frankly, I thought it posed a threat to your fealty. If you knew about your immortality, it might …”
“Immor …. What? You …”
“Yes, I killed you. Fourteen minutes to rebound. Not too much of an outlier. So, what do you say we skip forward? Here’s the bottom line, Exeter. I’ve come to love you like a son. I’ll never have one myself, so this has been a great joy. Which is why I hope you’ll know what I’m about to do is not out of malice.”
“Amayas. Please. I’m immortal? One of them?”
“Yes. To the greater point, your special circumstance means your relationship with the Splinter is unique. Everyone who enters can see, hear, and taste its wonders. But I believe only those with a certain genetic variance can travel through the Splinter and come out the other side. No ship or wormhole required. One human being. Point to point. All you have to do is walk the path. This is what I need you to do, Exeter. Like I said earlier, the journey will be painful and probably quite long. But you will trigger the events that will keep the divides from falling. I’ll be taking my own path, far from here. And somewhere, we’ll meet again.”
Exeter wanted to believe. He wanted to resist. But all he could muster amid his confusion and terror was a simple, “Why?”
Amayas smiled like a caregiver who wished to comfort his patient in the final moments.
“One day, I hope to answer your question, and all the others you’ll collect along the way. Thank you for coming into my life, Exeter.”
Amayas stepped away and triggered the cylinder.
Soon, the endless bounty of stars raced past Exeter, and the rope of fire whipped around at his periphery. Above him, the Splinter exploded into life, sending its spikes across the light-years.
Exeter saw the eight paths, each distinct, a tunnel with a new world waiting at the end. The paths rotated as if on an axis.
Suddenly, his hands were free. He jumped up, but not from the pilot’s chair.
It happened too fast. Exeter looked back and saw not the subterranean world of Artemis Station. Instead, he saw explosions, and a structure taller than the clouds on fire. Shadows flew above in the heart of night and expelled energy pulses toward each other.
The ground crackled beneath him, and the air smelled of death.
Men shouted, running for cover, and mechanical beasts turned a lighted corner in his direction. Exeter held his hands before his face and saw his own blood. A long shard pierced his gut.
Exeter fell to his knees and begged the nightmare to end.
“Are you insane?” A voice railed from behind. “Run, asshole.”
A gloved hand reached out.
The necessary thing is the simplest.
He grabbed hold and ran.
PART FOUR
UNMASKED
“Some say this madness came to pass because of a wedding.”
“Don’t listen to historians. What do they know?”
45
Three months later
T HE WEDDING OF KARA SYUNG and Ya-Li Taron featured all the trappings of royalty, if such a thing existed on Hokkaido. Outside, hundreds of guests entered the Taron estate house beneath a long archway decorated in fragrant bouquets of sweet red melonium flowers and tangerine roses, which were known to cast their perfume a quarter mile on a strong wind. They grabbed long-fluted glasses of pearl wine while escorted into the amphitheater, itself surrounded by world renowned topiary honoring the history and wonder of the oceans. The female guests dazzled in luxuriant gowns they hoped might reach par with the fashion diva Hoija Taron, while the males cut strapping figures in full-length tuxedoes with tails – black, pink, sky blue. An orchestra played them to their seats. Drones maintained appropriate distance, recording the joyous ceremony live across the IntraNex and Global Wave.
The mood inside the estate was another matter. Kara sensed it from the moment she arrived: No one of her family or Ya-Li’s offered a hint of celebration. Rather, a glooming weight constricted their emotions, like too much gravity. Their half-smiles were insincere, their side glances conspiratorial, and their whispers well strategized. They followed the script with mechanized precision, making certain all preliminaries held to the minute-by-minute schedule. Though they never said the words, Kara knew what many were thinking: Today was not about a wedding; it was about what might come afterward. The true reason they were gathered six months ahead of schedule dominated their thoughts and scared some of them witless. And yet, no one spoke of these things in Kara’s presence.
None realized how much she knew about the alliance to reshape the former Collectorate in Hokkaido’s favor. She offered no hint of the revelations bestowed in Ham Cortez’s flat. What might they think if she told them about the Splinter, the so-called Inventor, or the incident at High Cannon Collective? Kara wanted all of it out in the open. She wanted to stand accusingly at the altar, turn to the audience and media drones, and unveil the conspiracy. Allow the madness to follow. See how much damage she could do to these criminals before their insane plan threatened to burn her world.
Yet that wasn’t going to happen today. Dae made the case for silence after he executed Mei Durin. Standing over her body, holding the snub nose with a steady hand capable of killing again, Dae stiffened his shoulders and regained his composure.
“If they learn what I told you today,” he said, “they’ll kill you. Our parents are willing to replace you on the altar with a double. That’s how committed they are. How committed they all are. They’ll also kill me, excuse my absence at the wedding, and stage my eventual death. They did it with Lang to great effect. And without me, what purpose does Luyn serve? This alliance is fragile, Kara. There are secrets that have to be preserved, or it falls apart.”
She trembled in Ham’s flat, seeing the true face of a brother she always considered spineless.
“Look what you’ve done,” she moaned. “Mei was …”
“A terrorist coit who deserved worse. How many innocent people did she murder because they wanted a better life? We’re going to solve Hokkaido’s problems and create a future where every Hokki can reach beyond the stars.”
“You sound like Mother.”
“Yes. And she’s the moderate in our household. Be glad our Father knows nothing of this. The only way out is silence. Take the ring and become a Taron. What happens then is their business. I have a cover story. It will work. When we return, I’ll say I found you before you compromised our position. You never made contact with anyone connected to the incident on Mangum Island. You will fast in your room under heavy guard. No contact with anyone – not even Chi-Qua – until the morning of the wedding.”
“If I refuse, Brother?”
“I believe there are two more bursts in this cartridge. I don’t want to use them, but if you force me to make a hard choice, I will.”
She took another look at Mei, who stared into oblivion. Kara blamed herself. She let down her guard, believed Dae was ready to crack – maybe ev
en betray their parents. Her misread cost Mei everything. He was in too far, beyond the grasp of reason.
Kara surrendered. When the sun broke on Yeodlin, she went about her morning business per the script. She answered none of Chi-Qua’s many questions when her aide was allowed into the suite. Final packing of personals, assembling the hair and makeup, but no more. On the short flight to the Taron estate, they rode with Li-Ann and her personal assistant, sharing half-smiles and less than twenty words.
Upon arrival, Ya-Li’s parents along with Hoija and Ban-Ho Taron formed a phalanx of greeters. Beyond them, rows of staff waited in manicured lines, from most to least senior. No one offered memorable let alone sincere words of joy or well wishes. It was perfunctory. The house steward led Kara and Chi-Qua to the wing Kara was to share with her new husband. Her private dressing room had already been stocked with her belongings, all removed from Syung-Low the day before. Though Ya-Li was only a few rooms away, they did not meet.
“It’s a beautiful dress,” Chi-Qua said as she helped Kara with the final touches. “The IntraNex will love you.”
Kara rolled her eyes. “For a day. They’ll forget me tomorrow.”
Chi-Qua was right on one point: The dress was beautiful. Yellow floral silk, as bright as the sun at noon but not so powerful as to outshine the bride. The dress wasn’t Kara’s choice, of course. That role always fell to the mother. In this case, Li-Ann showed impeccable taste.
“No one wants to be prized on the IntraNex for too long,” Chi-Qua said. “Heroes and idols become villains on a whim.”
“If they knew the truth about my family, it would happen even faster. Chi, did they move your belongings here?”
“No, and they’ve said nothing about a new assignment.”
“I was afraid of that. They’re scared to keep us together.”
“Maybe. Or perhaps they want to give you and Ya-Li a few days alone. It’s not like there isn’t ample staff.”
“I suspect the real reason is the Tarons don’t want to assume your debt. They didn’t set the terms for Baek rehab, so they aren’t interested in finalizing.”
The Simmering Seas Page 33
