Titanborn: (Children of Titan Book 1)

by Rhett C. Bruno

  “In your file, it said you belonged to the clan-family Amissum,” Zhaff said, breaking the silence. “Why does your current surname not match theirs?”

  “It did, a long time ago,” I replied, shocking myself by answering so quickly. Nobody had cared enough to ask about my family in years, and I hadn’t cared enough to tell anyone either. I’m not sure why I chose to open up then, but I did. I was probably just trying to distract myself from how much my body was aching, but I suppose I realized that if I wanted real answers about who Zhaff was, then I had to give some info about myself too. Like it or not, for the time being, we were partners, and I needed him to have my back.

  “They were like most Earthers,” I said. “Raising children in the safety of numbers, matching parents to avoid chronic diseases, you know the spiel. We lived a short train-ride outside New London. Two natural parents and a dozen others taking care of me and my fifty or so siblings. They were a nice bunch, factory workers mostly, I remember, but they were so happy with having the bare minimum. It never made any sense to me. I knew from the day I held a gun that I wasn’t suited for a factory. Eventually, I couldn’t take it and left. I got my own name when I became a collector for their protection and haven’t heard from any of them since. Even if they did know or care where I am, they’d probably be too scared to talk to me, considering what I am. Can’t say that I blame them.”

  “Safety is paramount,” Zhaff said.

  Hearing him echo the USF sentiments made me chuckle a bit, until I ran out of air. “I never really cared for having such a large family anyway,” I said after taking a moment to catch my breath. “For being matched and sharing wives with the same last name even if we weren’t blood. People call the Ringers primitive because they’re still passionate about the whole monogamous-relationship thing, but it seems a hell of a lot simpler, even if it isn’t as safe and efficient as my people like it. Anyway, I never got a chance to try that out before I accidentally planted a daughter in someone’s belly—” I wished I could take back the words as soon as they left my lips.

  Zhaff halted his routine and tilted his head in my direction. The change in his facial expression was almost negligible, but his one thin, dark eyebrow that wasn’t covered by his eye-lens rose a hair, as if to indicate curiosity.

  “You have created life?” he asked. “That was not listed in your file.”

  Years of keeping Aria a secret from my bosses and that one momentary slip, thanks to sleep-pod weariness, undid all of it. I’d only hid her so she could come with me on assignments rather than the directors sending her off to some clan-family so I could focus on the job or whatever they’d do. I wasn’t the first collector to get a woman pregnant without USF clearance, after all, and I sure as hell doubted I’d be the last.

  “It wouldn’t be, but yes, I have,” I said, deciding there was no point in trying to hide it anymore. Aria was gone, and Director Sodervall wasn’t the type of man to chastise me all those years later when he, inevitably, found out about my illegitimate daughter from one of Zhaff’s reports, especially considering the worst possible punishment he could muster was the Cogent already in front of me.

  “I presume you are implying that you weren’t merely a donor?” Zhaff asked.

  “I think all men technically are,” I snickered. “No. I was there when she was made, and for most of the years after.”

  “I do not understand. Where is your reproduction paperwork, then? And the selected partner?”

  “She’s illegitimate, Zhaff. Illegal. You can report me if you’d like, but it won’t matter anymore.”

  “I am not an operative of the United Sol Federation. I would suggest you take up the issue with a Pervenio intermediary to the Assembly if you wish to report your crime and be punished accordingly.”

  I smirked. “I’ll pass.”

  “Was your partner cleared?” Zhaff said after a brief pause. Only then did I notice that he’d stopped all exercise and sat on the floor, legs folded. I swear I’d never seen him so intrigued by anything, even if it didn’t show much in his features.

  “The mother? She was a streetwalker on Mars I favored in my younger days. Beautiful woman, with striking red hair…” My jogging slowed to a walk as she entered my thoughts.

  We’d met during an extended assignment on Mars, in one of the many unused sewer systems re-outfitted as a brothel. She was well worth the price. I was never one to find anything more than pleasure in a woman’s arms for a night or two, but we had a real connection. The next time I was on the Red Planet, I sought her out, and when I finally found her, she was dying from an infection from another client. She had an infant with her, claimed it was mine since she couldn’t afford her fertility control when we met and dumped the girl at my feet. A black-market blood test proved she was right.

  Looking back, I should’ve dropped Aria off somewhere suited for a baby and walked away. She would have had a better life. But, however she did it, Aria had me from the first moment I looked into her big, beautiful green eyes.

  I shook the memory out of my head. I stood completely still on the treadmill now, staring blankly ahead.

  “She died shortly after our daughter was born,” I said to Zhaff. “More than two decades ago now. After that, I brought Aria—that’s my daughter’s name—along wherever Pervenio sent me. For a while, she’d help me when she could, but the older she grew, the less she approved of what my job entailed. Eventually, I got her involved in something that got her friend killed, and it was too much for her to stomach. She moved back to the Red Planet permanently, and we lost contact. Last I heard, she worked in a hospital there, helping the sick and dying.”

  Zhaff’s lip twitched slightly after I finished, displaying a level of emotion I wasn’t accustomed to seeing from him. Like he was allergic to anyone breaking the rules. His eye-lens remained fixated on me, but he didn’t say a word. He just sat quietly until the silence made me break.

  “Amazing that such a brilliant, caring girl could’ve come from an old wretch like me,” I said, fingering the Ark Ship figurine in my pocket. “I only wish I realized earlier that making her was the only good thing I’ve ever done, though I don’t suppose you’d understand that.”

  “I do understand,” Zhaff replied immediately. “The propagation of human life is our greatest chance at progress.”

  It was the same jargon the USF had been spewing out ever since the Meteorite. The same shit that often dominated my own thoughts and made me itch when I stayed on Earth too long. She was my daughter, not just another body to help preserve the future.

  “Do you ever think before you talk?” I grumbled.

  “Always,” Zhaff stated. He stood and started exercising again as if nothing had happened.

  I should’ve known it would be a mistake opening up to him. It was difficult to be angry, considering how he could be, but I didn’t lightly bring up Aria with others. Now he was one of the handful of people in the solar system I’d ever told about her, and probably the only one who’d remember.

  I exhaled as I stepped off the treadmill and stared out through the room’s viewport at the Ring. The station had rotated throughout the day, and I now had a view of the stormy upper atmosphere of Saturn, so tremendous that it eclipsed all of space. I wondered if maybe she was anywhere out there. At least because of Zhaff, and the mission report she would inevitably wind up in after we were done on Titan, her name might wind up Pervenio knowledge. Somebody might stumble upon her, so I’d know she was okay, provided she didn’t change her name the way I had after I ran away.

  “Malcolm?” someone outside the room said, drawing me out of my ruminations. It was followed by a knock at the door. I glanced at the sealed entrance but remained quiet. I had a feeling I knew who was outside and wasn’t in the mood for any lectures. Zhaff didn’t allow the calm to last.

  “You may enter,” Zhaff said as he stopped exercising.

  The door slid open, and Director Sodervall stood in the entry.

  “Malcolm Gra
ves!” he proclaimed as he entered. I expected him to act far more cross after what had happened on Earth and Undina. Instead, he appeared grateful for my arrival. He rushed past Zhaff as if the Cogent wasn’t even there, placed his wrinkled hand on my shoulder, and grinned. “Sorry to ruin your vacation with all this.”

  “Trust me, I don’t mind.” I returned the gesture. We were beyond the point of me having to address him as sir after every sentence.

  “What has it been? Three, four years since I last saw you in person?”

  “Something like that. I hear they call you the Voice of the Ring now. I can’t believe they still have an old man like you in command here.”

  “Only until they find someone better,” he joked. The smile he wore faded when Zhaff appeared beside him.

  “I can relate. This is the partner you assigned me.” I gestured toward the Cogent with both hands. “Zhaff. Fresh out of the Cogent Initiative.”

  Zhaff stepped forward with perfect posture and saluted. “Sir.”

  I could tell by the director’s darkening features that he hadn’t met a Cogent before. He saluted back halfheartedly before putting his arm around my shoulder. He turned me around and walked me as far away as the small room would allow. It was relieving to know that even he felt uncomfortable around Zhaff.

  “A little young, don’t you think?” Director Sodervall whispered into my ear. “Even for one of them.”

  I glimpsed back over my shoulder at Zhaff, who stood quietly in place with his eye-lens tracking us. I remembered how I’d noticed the same thing when we first met. His tall body moved with inhuman fluidity and precision, as if he were gliding effortlessly across a paper-thin sheet of ice with no fear of falling through. That was probably what made his age seem so bizarre. That or his taciturn face, which never showed any perceptible emotion.

  I shrugged. “I figured you knew. Better to start them young, I guess.”

  “So I hear,” Director Sodervall replied.

  “Look, sir, about what happened on Earth, I—”

  He shook his head and looked me straight in the eyes. “Forget it. We had no idea what we were up against at the time, but now we do. Focus on the job at hand.” He turned back around so we were again facing Zhaff, though he continued to address only me directly. “You two need to build up your strength and plan your next move. You’ll have access to all our shipping records, and whatever else you may need. I wish I could offer more help, but I don’t have many officers or collectors to spare these days. Even fewer I trust with a job like this.”

  “I was wondering why they really sent us here all the way from Earth, especially after what happened. I’ve done business on Titan before, though. I should still recognize a few faces down there who may be able to help.”

  “Good. Ever since M-Day, we’ve been putting down protests and riots daily. Even after Luxarn announced he was planning to petition the USF Assembly for all offworlders, including native Ringers, to be permitted to take part in the Departure Lottery just to ease some tension. These damn Ringers are never pleased. If it were up to me, we’d send every single one of them off on an Ark ship toward some star and be done with it. Bastards were so eager to abandon Earth back in the day, after all.”

  “I’m sure Luxarn has considered it,” I jested. The director shot me a glare that made me worry he was a little too comfortable with that idea. I hated offworlder drama as much as the next guy, but without them, I’d need to find a new line of work. “So I’m guessing you’re expecting us to experience some trouble down on Titan when we land?” I asked, deciding to change the subject.

  “Trouble? That’s a gentle term for it. We extinguish new strains of dissidents here constantly, but there’s a new group that won’t go away. They call themselves the Children of Titan. Wear all white and paint orange circles on their chests like they’re part of some ancient tribe. Hell, a month ago, they raided a terraforming research facility down on Titan. Blew the thing to pieces. Who knows why.”

  “They think Titan is their world,” I responded, my conversation with the Ringer on Earth popping into my mind. “They don’t want to change it.”

  “Indeed,” he said, seeming rather disturbed by the notion.

  “Any idea who’s leading them?”

  “Not a clue, but they seem to have great appeal amongst the locals, and with so many down there turning a blind eye, they have an uncanny knack for getting their operatives around our surveillance measures. We’d sweep all the colonies on Titan ourselves, but Luxarn wants us to keep our involvement relatively quiet so we don’t rouse any more Ringers to their cause. If we march down into the lower wards in force, we may soon have a real revolution on our hands.”

  “Thank God for that. Keeps us employed.” I nudged Zhaff, but he didn’t seem to get the joke. He’d been paying close attention to everything the director was saying.

  “Always looking on the bright side, Graves,” Sodervall said. “You just worry about trying to find these smugglers. Mr. Pervenio has placed great importance on their apprehension.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but as I did, a Pervenio officer came running into the rooms, out of breath. “Sir!” he said, saluting. “There’s been an incident.”

  Director Sodervall waved him over listlessly, as if he was tired of hearing those words. When the officer whispered something into his ear, his eyes went wide with horror.

  “Right now?” he questioned.

  All the officer could manage was a nervous nod.

  “I’ll be there at once.” He turned to me. “Your workout will have to wait, Graves. Follow me.”

  I regarded Zhaff. As always, he didn’t appear perplexed, but the fact that he was also silent was enough for me to know that he, too, was unsure what was going on. I shrugged, and we followed the director and his guards out of the room.

  TWELVE

  The bustling security headquarters on the other end of a tram through the core of the small moon made the one in New London look antiquated. The screens were larger, and many had holographic panes able to be touched and manipulated—the newest in televisual technology. There were also, of course, floor-embedded viewports, which currently displayed a stunning vista of Saturn’s rings.

  “This way, sir.” The officer led us into Director Sodervall’s private office. It was a sizable space filled with all manner of clutter. It was evident he was a very busy man with responsibilities extending well beyond keeping tabs on me. No wonder he didn’t have time to bother with the Cogent Initiative.

  The director keyed some commands into the console built into his desk, and then a large, holographic screen was projected in front of his viewport. He returned to my side. Zhaff was behind us, and I could feel his warm breath on my neck as he leaned in close.

  “What’s going on?” I asked the director.

  “Just watch,” he replied evenly.

  He set the recording to play. The feed was grainy, but I could distinguish what appeared to be some manner of soldier in heavy white armor standing in front of an airlock. An orange circle was inscribed over his or her chest plate, and the armor’s visor was tinted enough to make it impossible to discern a face. The camera trembled a bit, which meant that there was likely someone on the other end holding it.

  “The Children of Titan?” I questioned. Director Sodervall nodded with austerity.

  Inside the airlock, at least a dozen Earthers banged on the glass of a circular porthole, screaming. A similar number of pale, long-faced Ringers were lined up in seats set on either side of the rebel soldier. They watched, though they didn’t look like they approved of what was happening. Their eyes bulged with dread, and even though most of their mouths were covered by sanitary masks, I could tell by the way they drooped that many of their jaws were hanging open.

  “We are descendants of those chosen by Trass—Titanborn,” a voice deepened by some sort of distortion device said. It came from the soldier at the airlock. “We tire of being owned; of rotting in your q-zones as you suck
our home dry. Retribution is coming. This is what happens to those who steal from our Ring. From ice to ashes.”

  Without warning, the armored soldier at the airlock pressed a button on its control panel, sentencing every Earther inside to death. The outer seal came open and, in seconds, the winds of Saturn reached in to yank them all out. Then the video went to static.

  “That happened an hour ago on an old gas harvester named the Piccolo,” Director Sodervall said irritably. “Somehow they’ve been able to broadcast that video all over this station.”

  The Ringer on Earth flashed through my mind, aiming my own pistol straight at me. I swallowed and pushed the memory away. The director didn’t appear to notice.

  Zhaff pulled out his hand-terminal and held it in front of us. In only a few seconds, he’d been able to pull up the video on the Rings Solnet network himself, as if testing whether the director’s intelligence was correct. Disseminating something like that across the highly guarded Pervenio servers was no easy task. It meant these Children of Titan were as talented as they were bold and unpredictable.

  “Do you have any idea where that ship currently is?” Zhaff asked before I could.

  Without answering, Director Sodervall opened the door to his office and looked out on security headquarters. The panicked glare of every officer was fixated on him. “I won’t ask again. I want the location of the Piccolo. Now!” he bellowed. The officers immediately lowered their heads and hammered away at their keyboards.

  “You should also analyze the broadcast to discover how they were able to disseminate it on such a broad scale,” Zhaff said.

  “I know that, Cogent!” the director snapped. “My engineers have been on that for the last hour. We don’t know how, but it originated on that harvester.”

  Without hesitating, Zhaff walked over to the director’s personal computer and began typing. The sight came close to making me laugh, but I was able to hold it back, considering the current circumstances. The director didn’t say anything, but he seemed to be more in shock than he had been while watching the recording.