by M. R. Forbes
“General Stacker,” Nathan said, eyeing him defensively.
“You should call me James. You aren’t one of my soldiers. Not yet, anyway.” He held the tray out to Nathan, and his body forcefully reminded him he hadn’t eaten in a while, and it smelled fucking amazing.
“What is it?” Nathan asked, taking the tray. He looked down at the food on it. A bowl of thick, reddish liquid. Round bread with a large slab of meat on it, which itself had something melted on it, which was dripping appealingly down the side.
“Tomato soup and a cheeseburger,” James said. “My apologies, but our fryer is offline, and our engineer is busy with more important equipment.”
Nathan smelled the cheeseburger. The scent was vaguely familiar. They had cheeseburgers on Proxima, made from lab-grown meat. This was different. Better. His mouth watered of its own accord.
“Go ahead. Try it. I’ll wait.” James smiled. “Do you mind if I sit?” He pointed at the chair beside the bed.
Nathan looked at the food. Then he put the tray down on the table beside him. “I can’t eat this. Not before you answer one question for me.”
“I had nothing to do with your wife’s murder,” James replied, answering him without being pressed. “Neither did Tinker. To be honest, I’d rather not be involved with any of that. I’m sorry for your loss, and your pain.”
Nathan stared at James. He certainly sounded sincere. “But you work for the Trust.”
James pointed at the chair again. “Do you mind if I sit?”
“Go ahead.”
James sat. He kept eye contact with Nathan the whole time.
“Let me say this to you once. I won’t lie to you, Nathan. Whatever you ask me, I’ll give you the best version of the truth I know.”
“What does that mean?”
“There are always three truths to everything. Your side. My side. Reality. I can’t guarantee you I’ll always give you reality, but I’ll be honest about my side. Fair enough?”
Nathan considered for a few seconds. Then he nodded.
“Good, then you should eat the burger while it’s still warm.”
Nathan picked up the tray again, resting it on his lap. He lifted the cheeseburger to his mouth and took a bite. It did taste amazingly good.
“Tinker has an agreement with the Trust, an agreement which defies Proxima Command’s No Contact Protocol. They provide him with certain raw materials that he requests, and he provides them with certain supplies they request in return. You’ve only been on Earth for a couple of days, but you’ve seen what it’s like for people living here. Dangerous at the best of times, deadly at the worst.”
Nathan swallowed his bite and put up his hand. “Wait a second. Go back a little bit. You’re a Stacker, working for an Earther?”
“Not exactly. I’m an Earther too. I’ve never been to Proxima.”
“You were made here?”
James nodded. “I guess I need to back up even further.” He smiled. “How much do you know about Earth history.”
“Real Earth history, or the bullshit they feed people on Proxima?”
“Good point. I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that the ships on Proxima left Earth because of the trife.”
“Yes.”
“And the people in charge of those ships decided to erase everything their datastores knew about the trife, and replace it with a fabricated story about political freedom and a fresh start.”
“Yes. I’m past all of that.”
“The full truth is that the United States Space Force essentially seized all of the colony ships in this country. They used them as MOBs — Mobile Operating Bases — to carry out research on the trife and find a means to kill them. When they failed, they launched the ships and headed for deep, deep space. Only they were diverted to Proxima at the last minute. Most of them, anyway. There’s a rumor that one of the ships never arrived on Proxima. There’s another rumor that two of them never launched at all.”
“What’s your point?”
“Not everyone on Earth died.”
“Clearly.”
“That included military and scientists. Not everyone in the Space Force went to Proxima. They stayed behind. They kept fighting. They survived.”
“Tinker?”
“Is a direct descendant of General James Stacker. He was the highest ranking officer who didn’t go to Proxima. He organized a resistance centered in Atlanta, Georgia. A resistance that continues to this day.”
“Is the name a coincidence?” Nathan asked.
“No. I’ll get to that.”
“Okay. Is this Georgia where Edenfall is located?”
“No. Edenfall came later. The trife destroyed New Hope Alpha. That was the first Space Force founded ATF.”
“ATF?”
“After the Fall. General Stacker coined the term and started counting time ATF. We're in the year two hundred and two ATF.”
“Okay, so the Space Force was still soldiering here on Earth. What does that have to do with today? What does that have to do with the Trust?”
“Don’t forget your burger,” James said.
Nathan had forgotten about it. He picked it up and took another bite. It was so damn good.
“I’ll skip ahead. General Stacker married a young woman, a geneticist. She had been part of a program to create a virus that would kill the trife, much like the trife’s creators used a virus to wipe out half the population before they dumped the monsters on us. She pivoted from that work after New Hope Alpha, after her original bio lab was destroyed. She turned to creating better soldiers. Humans that could better stand up to the trife.”
“Replicas?” Nathan guessed.
“Eventually, yes. Who do they say invented replication tech on Proxima?”
“Doctor Gene Julioso.”
“Wrong. It was Mary Stacker. Who do they say the original James Stacker was?”
“He was the top scorer on every military simulation on Proxima.”
“Wrong again. You and me, we’re genetic descendants of the greatest freedom fighter ever to walk the Earth.”
Nathan considered that for a moment. “No. You’re lying. You have to be. How the fuck would Mary Stacker’s work wind up on Proxima? How would she wind up making replicas for the Centurions?”
“How do you think, Nathan? After the settlers were done settling, they started coming back to Earth, to see what was left. Mary and James were gone, but their kids were alive and well and keeping up the fight. Proxima saw what the Liberators had created, and they wanted it. So they made a deal.”
“They traded the replication tech for supplies?”
“Yes. Mary had a single basic replicator, and the replicas it produced were low quality. The genome was just too unstable. Proxima took the tech and iterated on it, perfecting it by our generation.”
“And you?”
“Part of the agreement was to send back a finished replicator. I’m the only one Tinker ever made with it.”
“So Proxima claims to have a No Contact Protocol, and at the same time they’ve had a trade agreement in place with Stacker’s family for over a century?”
“Our family, Nathan. Exactly. But nobody is supposed to know about it. Not the Spacers up there or the Earthers down here. The Centurions who made the deal, they were the people who were willing to do anything to ensure the safety of Proxima. They’re the same people who go to great lengths to protect the planet today. They buried Earth’s reality. They buried our existence. But we still need supplies, and they still need our tech, so the agreement remains in place.”
“You’re talking about the Trust?”
James nodded. “I’m talking about the Trust.”
Chapter 10
“They killed my wife,” Nathan said.
“I know,” General Stacker replied.
“Why?”
“That, I don’t know. What I can tell you is that they tagged your Explorer when you left Proxima. They embedded a special signal in it that instruct
ed us to destroy it. When the Spacers arrived, Imani Shia identified herself and passed us more detailed directions. She wanted us to back her up and help her kill you.”
“And you were going to do it.”
“My loyalty is to Tinker. He’s like a father to me.”
“He made you?”
“Yes. And he did this to me.” He rolled up his sleeves to show his augmentations. He also pulled back the cuff of his pants. “The replicator had problems, that’s why he only used it once. He did everything he could to put me together and keep me alive. I owe him everything.”
“So why didn’t you kill me? Why am I here?”
“For one thing, I found it’s harder to kill someone who looks just like you than it might seem from a distance. For another, I don’t agree with the Trust that you need to die.”
“No? What about Tinker?”
“He would kill you because it’s what the Trust wants. I’m not in favor.”
“You just said you owe him everything.”
“I do. Tinker isn’t a young man anymore. He’s changed, and he doesn’t always know what’s best for him.”
“And you do?”
“In this case, yes. I don’t know what your wife knew, Nathan. I don’t know why she had to die. I swear it. But she is dead, and you’re here and still alive. I think you can be a valuable asset for us. For me. I want you to be a Liberator.”
Nathan stared at him a moment. He took another bite of the burger and tried the soup. He didn’t say anything.
“I was expecting a different reaction,” James said when he remained silent. “I take it you aren’t in favor?”
“Of helping the Trust’s partners? Not especially. I’m more inclined to tell you to go fuck yourself, except I want to finish the burger first.”
Nathan expected the statement to make James angry. The General laughed instead. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Nathan, and remember I promised you I wouldn’t lie.”
“What is it?”
“Tinker hates the Trust. Our relations have been strained for a while. We use them, and they use us. It’s that simple.”
“I wish I could trust you. It would make things easier.”
“It sure would.”
“Do you even care why they killed Niobe?” Nathan asked.
“No,” James replied without hesitation. “Why would I? No offense, but she was nothing to me.”
“Maybe not, but I like your honesty.”
“I care about our trade agreements. I care about getting patches like the one on your leg for my soldiers. I care about getting tools and equipment that we can't make here.”
“What do you send back in return?”
“Weapons.”
"Proxima makes plenty of weapons. Legal and illegal."
"Not the kind of weapons we make."
“Don’t you need them here?”
“We don’t send back as much as we produce, even if the Trust thinks we do. Or we give them the equipment that doesn’t pass inspection. At least, now we do.”
Nathan took the last bite of the burger and another spoonful of soup. He wasn’t all that surprised to find he liked James Stacker; they were a lot alike after all. He was more surprised to realize he believed in him. He had to remind himself not to be too open or too easy to manipulate. This whole thing could be another of the Trust’s games.
“Do you know what your wife did that drew the attention of the Trust?” James asked.
Nathan shook his head. “No. She never said anything to me about anything out of the ordinary. When I… When I found her, I thought they killed her to get to me.”
Tears were welling in his eyes again. He wiped them clear, looking away from the other Stacker.
“The curse of being a Stacker,” James said. “Emotional. Sometimes too much so.”
Nathan thought about the ring again. Sheriff had it, damn it. “You said you have a lot of Centurion tech?” Nathan asked.
“We do. We get shipments every few weeks. We’re expecting another one any day now.”
“Do you have data chip readers? Not the older chips, the newer micro-card designs?”
“Not here. Maybe in Edenfall. Why?”
Nathan closed his eyes. He didn’t answer right away. Could he really be that desperate? Was he about to make a huge mistake?
“Nathan?” James said.
He had read an old Earth saying once. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. He wasn’t sure if he could trust General Stacker or not, but maybe he could find out whether or not the man was being straight with him. It was a risky game to play but he still needed answers, and this was one way he might be able to get a few.
He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
“Niobe’s wedding band,” he said. “I discovered after I was already on the way to Earth. She hid a data chip in it. A micro-card under the stone. I think she knew I would find it. I think whatever she had on the Trust, she hid it there.”
He stared at Stacker, muscles tense. He was ready to bolt for the window if the General made a move against him. He didn’t know if he would make it, but he would try.
“Be careful, Nathan,” James said instead. “Don’t tell me more than you have to.”
Nathan nodded. It was the best answer the General could have given. “I don’t have the ring anymore. I don’t know what was on it. But I know who has it, and I want it back. I want to know what Niobe knew. I have to know.”
“The Trust wants me to kill you for having that information,” James said.
“The Trust wants you to kill me right now, and I don’t have that information.”
“True. So what are you proposing?”
“Help me get my ring back. Let me see what’s on it.”
“And what do I get?”
“I’ll join your army.”
James laughed. “That’s it?”
“Isn’t that what you want?”
“You want me to defy the Trust for that? No. I need more.”
“Or what? Are you going to kill me here and now?”
James stood up. Nathan cringed internally. Had he overplayed his hand? His leverage was limited.
“Who has the ring?” the General asked.
“You said not to tell you more than I have to.”
“Fair enough. I have a problem, Nathan. The Spacers that came for you. One of them is still alive. I might be able to convince Tinker to let you live. I can’t ignore him, too.” James paused. Nathan could almost sense the General’s mind working. The one who had escaped, could it be Sheriff? “It might be that my problem is also your problem. If it is, you help me solve that problem, and I’ll do what I can to let you see what you want to see. If all of that happens, you get absorbed into the Liberators, and you disappear.”
“What about the Trust?”
“What about them?”
“They killed my wife.”
“And what? You want to get your revenge? Against who?”
Nathan remembered Yamaguchi’s face when he said, “Why don’t you ask your wife?” He remembered the bloody knife, laying on their bedroom floor. He remembered Oleksy’s laugh. His stupid, smug face.
“I can think of a few people,” he replied.
“Let it go, Nathan. You aren’t getting back to Proxima. Even Tinker can’t make that happen. You’ll get some of what you want. You aren’t getting everything.”
Nathan stared at James for a few seconds. “Do any members of the Trust come here? Besides Judicus Shia?”
James smiled. “You’re impossible. The supply ships have a pilot, a single Centurion Spacer. No more, no less.”
Nathan heaved a sigh. Maybe James was right? Maybe he was better off forgetting about the Trust? Get some answers. Get some closure. Let it go.
“Okay,” he said. “When do we leave?”
“Six hours. I haven’t slept since you arrived.”
“Are you sure the target won’t escape?”
“I’ve got p
eople on it. Drones and soldiers are monitoring the crossing between here and the island. If he tries to escape, I’ll know it. If he doesn’t, we’ll find him.”
“Roger that.”
James opened the door. “I’ll have someone come to take your tray. How was it?”
“If all the food on Earth is this good, that might be reason enough to want to stay.”
“Get some rest, Nathan. The next time we meet, you will call me sir.”
“Yes, sir,” Nathan said.
James left the room, closing the door behind him. Nathan stared at the door for a moment before settling back against the wall.
The General was playing along for now, but James had to know he wasn’t about to let it go.
They were both Stackers, after all.
Chapter 11
The lighting in the old Navy vessel was dim, not because of reduced power output but because many of the LEDs that illuminated the space had gone out over the long, slow crawl of time. Nearly half of the lights were dead, leaving Hayden and Rhonna to navigate the massive ship in varying degrees of darkness.
Hayden had never been on a vessel like this before. It was a far cry from the Centurion dropship, though it did bear some similarity to the colony ship he had lived on for the first thirty or so years of his life. The entire design could only be described as functional. Narrow passages with wires and pipes running along the bulkheads and ceilings, faded paint on old metal, small rooms with plenty of old machinery and tech. Everything had a purpose, though Hayden often had no idea what that purpose was.
They made it down from the bridge and into the hull without coming across any trife. They did pass a few decaying corpses on the way; the bodies of the settlers who had tried to move into the ship. The trife had killed them, their spines broken and claw marks against the exposed bone. To Hayden, it was a sad way to die, but also an all too common way to die.
They reached another ladder, near the end of a corridor that was barely distinguishable from any of the others. The ship was a maze, especially the deeper they dove. They had already gotten turned around more than once, leaving them both thankful the trife didn’t seem to be spending much time above decks.
