Suns Eclipsed

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Bellona dismissed the memory impatiently and gave everyone the best smile she could manage. She looked at Fontana. “As you can see, we’re working on finding the one responsible.”

  Fontana nodded. He didn’t smile back.

  Chapter Five

  Kachmarain City, Kachmar Sodality, The Karassian Homogeny

  It was amazing, Chidi decided, how much the perception of others could be directed by a single determined individual. This moment, he knew, was one of those times when his decision alone would mold how the entire world thought.

  He had been forced to accept that what he did affected the lives of millions of people. That wisdom now let him recognize the weight of the decision he was about to make.

  Chidi took his boots off the table and sat up, letting his gaze rove around the chic industrial furniture in a way that looked as if he was measuring the seven people waiting for him to speak. In fact, he was looking for the location of the floating lens. This meeting was not being broadcast live as most of his life was, although footage from the meeting would be used for montages, backgrounds and more, so he had to maintain his on-camera poise.

  The two channels currently streaming into his neocortex were a babble of nonsense opinions and news. The uninitiated, the standard Karassian, would have quickly gone mad at the constant noise and distraction. Chidi had learned to switch his attention, with a corner of his brain constantly monitoring the feeds. If there was something worthy of close attention, he could pause long enough to focus on the feeds, then move on with his day. He was so good at it now, that he could check the feeds even while on camera and talking, and no one would realize what he was doing.

  He gave Surya a warm smile. The man melted at Chidi’s attention, his gaze dropping to the table. Chidi was grateful that Surya was a boring lover. If he had been more distracting, then Chidi would not have dipped into his feeds last night, while they were flagrante delicto, and would not have caught the earnest late-night discussion that had brought him to this delicious moment of decision. Chidi had climaxed unexpectedly when he recognized the profound nature of the dyad, which might have been annoying given how much he had paid for libido enhancement and enlarged genitalia. However, the recognition of the moment had completely distracted him.

  “Before I go live,” he told everyone around the table, projecting his voice and modulating the tones for the most pleasing resonance—all of it purely automatic, “I want you to be aware of what the day will bring. Everyone has seen the official release of the Shavistran footage, of course. The city killer, the ruins, and Bellona Cardenas declaring war. That bootleg copy that has been doing the rounds for a year forced the Council to release the full version, they say, because it makes Karassians look bad.”

  “That woman is not Xenia. I refuse to believe it,” Cora, one of Chidi’s three personal assistants said instantly. Hotly. Cora had always been a Xenia fan.

  “If it is Xenia,” Tupper, his number two assistant, added, “then she sold out, which I can’t believe. A good Karassian like her, going rogue?” He shook his head in disbelief.

  “It’s all fake, of course,” Kobina, Chidi’s talented editor, said dismissively.

  Chidi nodded. “Is it?” he asked them.

  Everyone stared at him.

  “Of course it is,” Cora replied. “All my friends say it is.”

  “Who faked it then?” Chidi asked.

  Silence.

  “It would have to be the Eriuman woman who faked it, wouldn’t it?” Surya asked hesitantly.

  Chidi nodded again. “Why?” he demanded.

  Again, the small silence. He was taxing them with these questions. They weren’t used to having to think this way.

  “For money?” Surya asked, his voice lifting.

  “Fame,” Cora said shortly. “If she can sell everyone on her being Xenia, all Xenia’s fans will follow her feeds.”

  It was an interesting possibility. Chidi didn’t let himself be deflected from the moment. He was vibrating with energy, tingling with the power he was about to wield, just by making a decision.

  “Maybe the council faked it,” Kobina, his editor, said slowly. “To bring Karassians together. To…increase the military?”

  Chidi rewarded him with a smile. Kobina had always been a deep thinker. Then he followed-up with his knock-them-breathless question, spoken clearly and at good volume. “What if it isn’t fake?”

  The silence this time was awesome. Chidi reveled in it. He had them in his hand. This, this moment right here, would be repeated across millions of screens around Karassia.

  “It has to be,” Kobina said. “That would mean that Xenia’s Wars, her biofeed channel, the movies…” He pushed a hand through his hair. “The betting forums,” he breathed. “There must be millions funneling through the official forum and then there are all the side bets and bootleg sites…” He looked almost ill. “If that Shavistran nonsense is real, then all the movies, the feeds, the betting, it would all…stop.”

  Chidi nodded. Everyone else was looking at Kobina with dawning horror.

  Surya frowned, marring his perfect forehead. “If it is real, then that means the Council really did do that to people. The apps aren’t androids at all. They’re humans. Karassians.”

  Cora shook her head. “They wouldn’t be that cruel, not to real people,” she said firmly. “They couldn’t get away with something like that, right under everyone’s noses.”

  Surya let out a deep breath and relaxed. “Yeah,” he said, sounding happier. “They couldn’t.”

  That right there, Chidi realized. Surya’s relief was the key.

  Chidi adopted an indolent, artistic pose, one foot on the other knee, his arm draped over the table, the hand waving elegantly. “That is what we are going to tell everyone,” he declared.

  “That everything that happened on Shavistran is fake?” Cora asked hopefully.

  “Yes.”

  Cora let out a deep breath and smiled.

  Kobina cleared his throat. “Maybe we should send someone to have a look on Shavistran, first?” he suggested. “Take footage of the thriving city?”

  “Go out into free space?” Chidi said and laughed. “No need,” he said shortly. He waved his hand again. “Trust me, Kobina. This will track. People will like it. They will love it.”

  And they will love me, Chidi added to himself. He didn’t fully understand the reasoning for every decision he ever made about his feed. He just knew what worked. He had an instinct for spotting what would get him the best ratings. This would net him a majority percentage. Maybe even an invitation to dine with members of the Council and that would give him even more traction. He knew it in his bones.

  * * * * *

  The former Karassian Homogeny Ship Alyard, Cerce Local Space

  On the fifth day after their return to Cerce, Alberda’s people asked for a face-to-face with Bellona and set up a time amenable to both parties. It was all very formal and distant, which bothered Bellona more than their refusal to state the subject of the meeting.

  Bellona had ordered the Alyard to return to Cerce from the nomansland sojourn, for it was imperative they build alliances with the planetary rulers and gain the cooperation of the free worlds. Those worlds’ assistance would provide supplies and recruits. More importantly, it would give Bellona’s people information about Karassian and Eriuman military movements as soon as anyone else learned of them.

  They were ill-equipped to take on either navy right now. The Alyard was only a conveyor. The most common destroyers and cruisers on either side would easily outgun them, making direct confrontation a bad idea.

  Yet they still needed a victory of some sort, something that would convince Natasa and her fleet and politicians like Alberda that Bellona’s motives were pure and the cause worth supporting.

  While they hovered over Cerce and bargained for supplies, Bellona sent Khalil, Sang, Fontana and Thecla out to other major free worlds, to test their interest in a cooperative defense and to dete
rmine their combat statuses.

  Aideen had found herself an empty engineering room where she could work on the communications net for Connie, close by the cargo bay where Connie was parked. Bellona had found her there, playing around with a blow torch.

  Bellona was more surprised to see Vang standing next to the door, his arms folded as he leaned back against the wall.

  “You’re not bothering Aideen, are you?” Bellona asked. It emerged more sharply than she had intended.

  Vang just smiled.

  “Where is Retha?”

  “He hasn’t slept for three nights.” Vang grimaced. “Nightmares. I put him out.”

  “You’re familiarizing yourself with the medical bay, then. That might be useful.” Although the idea of Vang using something like a skin sealer or surgical instruments on her was uncomfortable.

  “I didn’t use the medical bay.” His smile made her even more uneasy. Bellona noted that a medic, preferably a surgeon, would be a priority recruit. She turned to Aideen. “How is your project going?”

  “Vang is not bothering me,” Aideen said. She was sorting through a small box of what looked like memory chips, while the blow torch stood hissing next to her elbow. “He doesn’t ask questions. He watches.”

  “That’s good?”

  Aideen looked up at her. “I am a high-functioning autistic. I prefer to be alone because interacting is a challenge for me. Vang watches, so I don’t mind.”

  Vang smiled again. “You learn more from watching.”

  Bellona considered Aideen. “I thought all Karassians, even the standard ones, go through basic gene manipulation at the fetus stage. Wouldn’t autism be adjusted then?”

  Aideen gave a small shrug. “There are twenty-four gene flaws that can contribute to autism, if certain chemical imbalances are also present. They missed one of mine.” She looked up at Bellona, her face expressionless. “I would have been a cast-off, if they had not found all but one of them.”

  The hairs on the back of Bellona’s neck prickled hard as they lifted. She didn’t ask what “cast-off” meant. It was clear enough from the name for her to know she didn’t want more details.

  Life in networked, gossipy and friends-ridden Karassia for a social-disabled woman like Aideen must have been unbearable. “How in the known worlds did you get sucked into the Ledan program?” Bellona asked her.

  Vang made a sound of disgust. She glanced at him and he shook his head. “Fontana told me.” He nodded toward Aideen, who had gone back to work, bent over the little box. “Daddy was a super-general in the military. Her folks didn’t know what to do with her. Too boring, too smart and too weird. Daddy pulled some strings.” His mouth turned down.

  “They put her in Ledan?” Bellona breathed.

  Aideen looked up. “I could be alone and work on my stuff. Only now I know that sometimes, I did more than that.”

  “Does that bother you?” Bellona asked curiously.

  “I don’t like killing,” Aideen said. “Although I am now very good at it.” She went back to work.

  Bellona glanced at Vang again. “It does bother you, though. I didn’t think that was possible for you.”

  Vang shrugged. “It’s an unpleasant side-effect of the mind-fuck they gave us in Ledan. Sometimes, now, I give a damn.”

  Bellona drew in a breath. Every story she heard from the Ledanians, every awful fact, just added more weight to her determination to find those responsible and to halt the Karassian invasion of free space, for all time. She turned back to Aideen. “Is your father still active in the military?”

  Aideen shook her head. “I checked in the ship’s database. He was killed three years ago, when he got in the way of a Ledanian app on a mission.”

  Bellona nodded. “The Ledanian was you, wasn’t it?”

  Aideen looked up. “It was. I find the symmetry of that pleasing.” Then she plucked a chip from the box. “This one!”

  Bellona drew closer. “What about it?”

  “She found these in the locker, over there,” Vang said. “I have no idea what they are. Aideen seems to know.”

  Aideen picked up a pair of metal tongs and carefully slotted the chip between the blunt tips. Then she held the chip toward the blow-torch flame, keeping it far enough away that the flame didn’t touch it, while the heat washed over it.

  The chip writhed. Bellona took a step back away from the bench.

  Then the chip seemed to explode, like a flower blooming at high speed. Aideen put it on the bench, put the tongs down and picked up the blow torch and played it over the rapidly forming black object.

  It took a moment for the shape to make any sense. As the curves took form, Bellona realized it resembled a human body—there was a chest and attached arms. The shape was hollow.

  Vang came closer, peering at it. “Fuck me,” he breathed. “It’s an exoskeleton. I’ve heard of them. Never seen one.”

  Aideen put down the torch. “This is a Tuff Touch Model 389319I, Upper Body Exoskeleton. Inventory number 5691, Sub-Section C, Section; Armaments.”

  Vang looked at her, admiration in his eyes. “You read the inventory. All of it.”

  Aideen turned off the blow torch. “The exo-skeletons are printable, articulate and intelligent. They enhance a combat fighter’s strength and speed. They protect against standard ghostmaker bolts, just not the advanced weapons we took from Criselda.”

  Bellona stared at the armor. “And these were lying in a box in a cupboard?”

  “The box was properly labelled,” Aideen said stiffly. “That was how I knew what was in it.”

  Bellona pointed to the box. “There’s more of this armor in that box?”

  “There are upper and lower body exo-skeletons of four different varieties, each with specific functions.” Aideen touched the fully formed piece lying on the bench. “This one is for armor. Others are for strength, endurance, extended reach.” She frowned. “Someone mixed them all up.” She was highly offended.

  Bellona nodded. “I want you to sort them out, Aideen. Then, I want you to…to grow enough amour for everyone, starting with the Ledanians.”

  Aideen shifted on her feet. “I already have work that I haven’t finished yet.”

  Bellona hesitated, wondering how to answer that.

  Vang touched her arm. “Let me.” He looked at Aideen. “Both projects have equal priority and both must be finished. Figure out how long each of them will take, then split your time between them in proportion, until they are both completed.”

  Aideen smiled shyly. “Okay,” she said happily. Then her smile faded. “I want to be alone now. I have work to do.”

  Bellona beckoned to Vang to follow her and stepped out of the room as Aideen bent over the box once more and began laying the chips out on the bench, sorting them. Vang walked beside her, silent once more. Bellona raised her brow at him.

  He jerked his thumb back toward the room they had just left. “That? Aideen is off-the-charts brilliant. She’s happier if she can think in numbers, though. Numbers are definite. People, not so much.”

  “How did you know that, though?” Bellona asked.

  “I’m a psychopath—I was a psychopath.” He grinned. “My gene manipulations were even more shoddy than hers because my mother was dirt poor. Psychopaths, though…we know psychology. We know what makes people tick and how to make them tick the way we want them to.”

  Bellona shuddered.

  “Yeah. Eriumans don’t like the idea of gene manipulations,” Vang said, his tone one of agreement.

  “It’s your casual reference to manipulating people for personal gain, too.”

  “Money is personal gain. Power, influence, fame, sex…those are all personal gain. I did what I did, back then, because I would have gone mad if I didn’t.”

  “You’re talking about killing people.”

  “I am.” Vang said it calmly. “Just like you, I’m not that person anymore.”

  “You’re not a psychopath?”

  “By the clin
ical definition, nope, I guess not. I may have downgraded to sociopath. The heat…it’s still there sometimes.” He grinned again. There was little humor in it. It was almost as if he was laughing at himself in hysterical despair. “I’ll let you know if I think it’s going to get away on me.”

  Bellona swallowed. “That’s good to know.”

  He stopped in the middle of the corridor. “You drink coffee, right?”

  Bellona turned to face him. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “Not me. I have the same objection to coffee that Fontana had to anti-depressants, the other day.”

  “They’re addictive,” Bellona finished.

  “Ever stopped drinking coffee, boss?”

  She grimaced. “For a day.”

  “I hear the headache is a killer.”

  “It laid me out,” she said frankly.

  Vang nodded. “I already have an addiction. I don’t need another.”

  “That’s what you think your…heat is? An addiction?”

  “Addictions can be beaten. Psychoses, not so much. So yeah, I think of it as an addiction. Because that’s another thing I give a damn about these days.”

  “Beating it?”

  “And you seeing me win.”

  “Me?”

  “You got me out of there. Ledan.” His gaze met hers and unlike the very few occasions when he had looked at her directly, this time there was no ironic glint or mask in place. This time, she didn’t get the wave of uneasiness she normally experienced when Vang looked at her.

  Bellona nodded. “Okay, then.” She headed back down the corridor, for the bridge. Vang caught up with her and this time, she felt more comfortable about him by her side.

  “I want you to sit in on the meeting I’m about to take,” she told him. “Listen, then give me your interpretation after. Alberda is a slippery fish.”

  “He’s a politician. They’re all slippery,” Vang said.

  “So are you. Figure him out for me.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  That pleased her more than she thought it should.