The man smiled widely. He clicked the recording object in his hand and slid it into his inside breast pocket. “It seems our paths align, my dear.” The door slid open and he turned from the room, leaving her alone.
“You said you could help me!” she called from the bed. An android guard stepped into the room, walking to her side, and she felt the now-familiar sting of a needle biting into her shoulder. “Help me,” she managed to get out before everything went dark once again.
CD6
CD6 scanned for 5589 as he stood at the edge of the dining hall. She was nowhere in sight. This was her confirmed time to be eating, and Prisoner 3659 was sitting by herself. They always ate together. CD6 didn’t know how to feel about this. Being in a prison, one got used to the routines. He liked watching 5589 as she kept her eyes down, smiling when she spoke to her friend.
CD6 wondered what that was like, having a friend to talk with. He glanced over to BE13 at the other end of the dining hall and saw nothing but a cold, impassive android. Why was he different? The doors opened, and two guards stepped through with a prisoner between them. Her feet shuffled, and she stumbled to the line, where mechanical arms dumped food on a metal tray as she held it under them.
5589 wound her way through the tables, and the entire room of three hundred went silent. Each dragging footstep was accentuated in the silence, and 3659 met her beside the table, helping her to sit. Wren’s face was puffy, a bandage wrapped around her forehead. CD6 worried for her. He knew that emotions weren’t something he was supposed to concern himself with. It was a biological response to a situation, but regardless of his programming, he felt it.
The visiting man had left the day prior, and CD6 hadn’t been able to determine who he was. He’d sneaked off in the night to attempt to dig through the prison’s records, but none had been made about the stranger. He’d had to hide as a patrol guard walked by him, and CD6 had never been so afraid in his life.
Life. He wondered why he even considered what he had here a life. He was worse off than the prisoners.
He stood still, watching the room, but secretly focusing on Wren Sando. Her head was down, facing her plate as she ate slowly at first, then with feverish hunger. CD6 felt sorry for the woman and made a decision there and then. He read his internal clock and started a countdown until power-off time for his rotation.
Ace
Ace had never left Old Chicago, let alone Earth. The trip took a few hours, and the whole time, Ace sat on the sideways-facing bench beside Serina, strapped in like everyone else, wearing the exact same uniform as the rest of them. He looked to the left and then to the right, and realized he was now part of something much bigger than he’d even dreamed. These were now his people. He hadn’t been a part of something like this since he was a little child, and even then, he couldn’t consider his family a blessing.
Twice he slid the ace of clubs from his pocket and idly rubbed the top left corner of it with his thumb. The second time Serina glanced over at him, looking like she was about to say something, then stopped herself. He’d left it in his pocket since then. Now he fidgeted with the seatbelt, his nervous energy threatening to make him explode.
An officer – a lieutenant, if he was reading the stars on her collar correctly – walked down the aisle, telling them they were about to land on the moon base. Ace felt his heart thrum, and he smiled wide at Serina. He couldn’t get a read off the girl. She was too good-looking and obviously too important to talk with a scrub like him, but she didn’t dismiss him like everyone else did. She looked back at him with kind eyes, as if she’d sat in a Fleet drop transport carrier her whole life.
Then it hit him. She had.
Serina was the daughter of someone in the Earth Fleet. It seemed so obvious now, but Ace decided to ask her about it later. He couldn’t wait to hear her stories of the excitement and adventure her childhood must have brought.
As the ship lowered, he wondered at his own back story. He didn’t know much about Edgar Smith. Would the authorities find his body in the alley back home and figure out his identity? Even though he’d removed the ID, Ace knew there were other ways for them to find out who it was. He was banking on the fact that it was in a rough neighborhood, where people ended up dead all the time. The patrols didn’t have the time or resources to solve every random death, and Ace hoped that was true for this case.
He’d have to think up some story, because he couldn’t tell them he was a sixteen-year-old street rat. His head began to pound as he worried he’d be caught. Up until then, he’d been running on adrenaline and the thrill of getting into the Fleet. He chided himself for not having a better plan. If he was going to make this work, he needed to be smarter, more careful.
The ship touched down, and his seatbelt automatically released. “Everyone stay seated. We’re getting off in single file,” the lieutenant shouted.
Serina set a hand on his arm. “This place is such a dump.”
Ace was surprised. “What? The moon base?”
She nodded. “This is the only place the Fleet can torment the new recruits without any prying eyes. Did you know that only twenty percent of recruits make it to the next stage?”
Ace hadn’t known that, and he shook his head, which went from a small headache to a pounding drum as she told him this.
“You’ll be fine. If you’re serious about a career, work hard. That’s what my mother always says. ‘The cream always rises to the top’ is her favorite saying.” Serina looked forward, her eyes going unfocused.
“Why are you doing this?” Ace asked her quietly. The recruit on his other side looked from Serina, then to Ace, and rolled his eyes. Ace lowered his voice more so no one could hear him. “Why are you being so nice?”
Serina turned, locking eyes with him. “Because you remind me of someone.”
“This row, on your feet. We march out. On three,” the lieutenant shouted, and Ace fumbled up, his legs half-asleep after the long ride. He didn’t have a chance to ask her more as they stepped off the large ship into a see-through corridor connecting the ship to a massive dome. He’d heard about the colonies but had only seen a handful of images during his time on the streets. He’d never had access to the Interface, so his knowledge of the outer worlds was limited to what he’d heard, which consisted of rumors from drunken street thugs.
Beyond the corridor’s clear resin, he could see the surface of the moon. The dust and rock were beautiful in their dull tones, and Ace thought he’d never seen something so special. He was on the moon, joining the Fleet. He wanted to pinch himself but worried he’d wake up cold and hungry on the doorstep of an abandoned church if he did.
They marched, a clumsy attempt to stay in step with each other through the tunnel and into the massive dome. He didn’t know how large it was, but the edges had no end from where he was standing. It carried on in all directions for countless miles. He didn’t even want to know how long it had taken to construct such a thing.
The recruits were standing in rows, directed by two-star officers, each wearing a frown. Ace took a quick count and guessed there were a hundred and fifty of them standing there, each fresh-faced and gawking at their surroundings. There were hovering vehicles and squat buildings nearby, looking much more advanced than the boot camp he’d been picturing. They stood there until the next ship came, doubling their numbers to three hundred recruits.
Ace spotted the goons cockily walking into the dome, one of them catching his eye before getting in line.
One of the vehicles floated from a large flat-roofed building, and the officers all saluted the man who stepped off it onto the ground. Ace saw three full stars and a half-moon on his collar, and saluted the commander with the rest of the recruits.
“Welcome to the Fleet, recruits. I am Commander Evan Bryenton. This is the moon, where you’ll be conducting your introduction to the Fleet. Think of this as a tryout. You’ve all been through school before, so you have a basic understanding of what a curriculum is. Here we have classes, and y
ou will be graded on them.” The commander spoke loudly and clearly, as if he’d said the same speech a hundred times before. He was an older man, Ace guessed in his sixties, but he still looked fit and dangerous. His eyes were dark and deep-set; his brow cast a shadow over his upper face.
Ace was excited. He couldn’t wait to start whatever it was they were about to go through. He hoped his malnourished body would be able to sustain him through it.
The commander continued. “We want to see what each of you has to offer us. There are many divisions of the Fleet, so think of this as an aptitude test. You’ve all heard the numbers, so look around and know that out of five of you standing here, only one will make it through.”
Ace looked around him, and saw the shuffling of feet followed by nervous whispers. Commander Bryenton let it go and kept talking. “Out of three hundred, we’ll invite sixty of you to join the Fleet in some capacity. This number isn’t firm, but it is realistic. Which of you has what it takes to be Earth Fleet?” he asked, and Ace raised his hand. For a second, he felt foolish, but the rest of the recruits soon joined him, until all three hundred arms were in the air. The commander locked eyes with him for a moment before breaking into a thin smile.
“Good. Then we’ll start by running. Lieutenant Ford will lead you. Follow him. Do the run, and we’ll get you fed and find you a bunk. Welcome to Earth Fleet boot camp.” Commander Bryenton saluted them and turned, leaving in his hovercar.
Serina was still beside Ace, and she leaned to speak in his ear. “Pace yourself. This is going to hurt.”
Lieutenant Ford, a younger man with sparkling white teeth, smiled widely at them from the seat of a hoverbike. “Recruits, with me. This isn’t a competition, but I’ve been doing this for ten years, and the first one to complete this run has made it through boot camp one hundred percent of the time. It will also determine your squadrons, so do your best.” With that, he revved the bike and advanced forward, along the left edge of the clear dome.
Ace started out in the middle of the pack; Serina ran ahead, easily dodging through the crowded throng of runners. He’d run enough in his short life, but usually from someone, not for a competition. He was glad he’d eaten a lot for breakfast that morning, indulging on Edgar’s credits before leaving Old Chicago behind.
Ace thought about the advice from Serina and slowed down, his legs moving with less urgency now, in a rhythm. He glanced outside the dome as he ran along its edge. The sun was beyond, glaring brightly, and Ace noticed the dome had a tint to it. He wondered if it auto-adjusted the tint depending on where the sun was facing.
The other recruits were pulling ahead now. He had no idea how long this race would go on, so he kept his slower pace. After a mile or so, nothing outside the dome had changed, and he started to look inside it. At first, there had been buildings, barracks, and other military offices. Now he saw testing fields: tracks, target shooting, and various other setups ran deep into the dome.
There were no other recruits around him, and he glanced back to see the herd thinning, many people falling to the side. He passed one girl who was bent over retching. Ace averted his gaze and kept moving. After a while, he saw runners ahead. A few of them ran smoothly, but more were wearing out. His recently-issued boots were starting to chafe his feet, but Ace kept going. They were much better than the taped-together shoes he’d been wearing two days ago.
Ace tried to gauge how far they’d run, but he couldn’t. At his best guess, it had been four miles. His legs were burning, his chest on fire, but he kept moving. He wasn’t there to be an inactive participant. He wasn’t there for a few weeks of free food, only to be sent back home with nothing to show for it. He was going to make the Earth Fleet.
There were more structures on the ground now. Four-story complexes rose up from the rocks, and he even saw grass and trees. Another mile, and he saw something that surprised him. Crops. There were rows and rows of greenhouses, water dripping down the glass ceilings as he trudged by. His breaths were coming long and deep now as his lungs fought for air, and he could smell the fresh loam and soil, rejuvenating him.
The moon base was quite the spectacle, and Ace wondered if the Fleet made them do this run so the recruits could get a good look at their temporary home. Of course, they’d have to work for it.
Ace looked back to the path and had to jump to avoid a fallen runner. The man looked five years older than Ace, and he had a light beard. He saw the guy stumble to his feet and press a hand against the dome, trying to keep moving.
Ace was beginning to wear out. He couldn’t keep going forever. His feet ached; blisters were forming, but he didn’t stop. This was different for him than for most of the recruits. He knew he’d be dead if left to the streets much longer.
It had been at least an hour and a half by the time he saw the end. He’d passed countless recruits; some were out, sitting on the ground, others walking slowly. It was only when he crossed a line with a few Fleet officers standing there, marking things down on tablets, that he realized he was done. He kept running for a minute, his legs not accepting his brain’s command to slow.
Seeing Serina leaning against the dome convinced his worn body to halt. He tried to stay on his feet, to look like a tough guy in front of the girl, but his legs betrayed him. He stood grinning at her one minute, his chest heaving; the next, he was on his face in the dirt.
“What took you so long?” she asked, kneeling down beside him.
“How did I do?” Ace croaked out.
“You didn’t win, if that’s what you want to know,” she said.
Of course Ace hadn’t won. That thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. The only thing he wanted to do was finish, and not in last place.
Serina helped him to his wobbly feet as an officer came over. “Nice work…” The officer scanned a tablet. “Smith. You finished ninth. Good enough to be in the top three percent. You’re with Blue Squadron.” She passed a patch to him, and Serina smiled, flashing her matching blue patch at him.
The officer left the two of them standing there while more people crossed the finish line. Serina clapped him on the back. “Looks like we’re on the same team, Ace.”
5
Flint
“What are we supposed to do with this information?” Kat asked for the third time that day.
Flint didn’t answer her this time. “Wait. Did you check for hidden files?” Why hadn’t he thought of that? With the obvious video file on there, he’d assumed that was all they could find on the stick. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Kat shook her head. “I didn’t. You don’t think…” She left it unsaid. She got up and crossed to the console they’d been working on the day before. “These old sticks had backdoors. It was a flaw in the original design, and often people used them to keep the real files from finding the light of day. Not many knew about the issue. Eventually, the manufacturers fixed the glitch, and you couldn’t hide a file any longer.”
Flint was aware of this and was furious he hadn’t thought of it earlier. They’d hardly slept the night before; the video they’d seen appeared every time he shut his eyes. Aliens were visiting and had been for a long time. Were they hostile? What did it mean?
“Anything?” he asked, hoping she came up empty-handed. He wasn’t sure he wanted any more details.
Kat didn’t say a word for a moment, but her deep intake of breath gave her away.
“What is it?” he asked, moving behind her.
“There’s more here.” Kat tapped a video link, and a similar setup appeared before them.
This one was date-stamped August 2nd, 2415. “That’s thirty years later,” Kat said, and they watched with heavy concentration.
Again, a man and a woman were on the feed. The man spoke. “I am Commander Fairbanks, and this is Admiral Palmer.” He motioned to the elderly woman beside him. The ship’s bridge was much like the previous one, but a newer model. Flint recognized it from videos and museums he’d seen. The sound cut out, and the two of them watched th
e video’s subjects’ mouths move with no audio. The image flickered a few times, brief clips of their voices coming through. “…hidden… probe… home…” But as quickly as the sound came back, it was gone again.
“What’s wrong?” Kat asked.
“Old feed, or some distortion when they were recording.” Flint paused the video, closing the program and restarting it. The results were the same. Soon the image blacked out, and when it came back on seconds later, the shot had changed from the bridge to a ship in space. It had Earth Fleet symbols on the sides, and Flint couldn’t believe how large it was.
“Wow,” he whispered as the massive vessel flew slowly by the still camera angle. He wasn’t sure just how large it was, but he guessed at least two kilometers in length. Maybe longer.
“Are they going into a battle?” Kat asked, worry sewn into her tone.
“That doesn’t look like a warship,” Flint answered.
“Then what? Exploratory?”
Kat was on the right track. Flint tapped the video into reverse and smiled to himself. “It’s carrying people.” He flipped to a different screen, tapping keys until the Interface was open. “Remember hearing all those conspiracy theorists going on about the odd happenings at the Ganymede colony after the turn of the century?”
Kat nodded along.
“Follow me here. The colony disappeared, leaving it empty. How many people was it again?” Flint found the resource on the Interface and opened the file. His finger ran along the screen, and he tapped it. “Over two thousand men, women, and children vanished” – he snapped his fingers together – “just like that. No one ever knew what happened to them. The government said it was a virus, trapped within the domes and killing everyone before a cure could be found.”
“What about it?” Kat asked.
“Don’t you see?” Flint found a different section of the file and showed her. “They never had any bodies. They backed it up with some story about needing to keep the corpses for testing, and a few weeks later, they told a story about having to incinerate them all in space to keep the infection from spreading past the colony on Ganymede.”
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