Benson should be arriving soon with the pilot, and then Jarden could get on with it. He could have moved ahead with anyone at the helm. Hell, most of it was automated on the new models, but he needed that old-school touch. He didn’t think the pilot would even recall the mission, but Jarden himself had been aboard an old Earth Fleet freighter, moving supplies between the Moons and Titan twelve years earlier. He’d really been moving his own supplies to start building the colony ship now moored a few kilometers from where he stood.
He’d been undercover, his identity never disclosed to the crew. A few hours after they’d departed the Moons, they were attacked by pirates: desperate ones, who’d seemed to be as intent on destroying the ship as they were on boarding it. Flint Lancaster had outwitted them and had escaped with minimal damage. From that day, the pilot had never left Jarden’s mind for more than a week at a time. Jarden had followed Flint’s career, which had ended not too long after.
In a far too classic fashion, the disgruntled talent left the Fleet and started his own hauling company. It was obvious he’d turned to illegals after he found the gig not lucrative enough. The logistics of carrying supplies around the solar system was horrendous; not to mention, the competition by the larger players in the field kept legitimate independents from making a living.
Jarden had taken the opportunity to snatch the man up, and his gut was telling him it was going to be the right call.
His comm-switch glowed green, and a voice came clearly through as Jarden activated it. “Sir, we have an intruder approaching.”
Jarden stood, arms rested on his hips as he looked out the panoramic window. “Very good. I assume it’s Benson with my private corvette?”
“No, sir,” the man said. “It’s not.”
Jarden blinked quickly, a tremor of panic coursing through him. Had the Fleet learned his plan? Would they stop him from finding his family? “Who is it, then?” he yelled.
“It’s an android calling himself Charles. And a woman. Wren Sando. The android claims you know her.”
Jarden couldn’t have been more surprised if his wife had walked into the room at that moment. “Wren Sando? You’re sure?” This time, he couldn’t hide the quiver from his voice.
“Yes. What would you like us to do with them, sir?” the voice asked. They’d destroy the vessel without so much as a thought if he commanded it. But if this really was Dr. Sando, he could finish what he’d started a few years ago.
He smiled now, a new plan formulating in his mind. Time was tight, but they could still pull it off if everything went right.
“Escort them in safely. Bring them to me as soon as possible.” Jarden ended the communication and leaned back against his desk, waiting as patiently as his excited body would allow.
Wren
They had a few tense moments after arriving near the location of the transmission Charles had found back on Titan. Four unmarked Earth Fleet-type fighters advanced on them, quickly surrounding their ship. Charles had calmly explained who they were and why they were here.
After a few minutes of silence, they were brought in. Wren sat watching the scene unfold as they neared the station, where a few ships sat moored. Behind it was the largest space vessel she’d ever seen.
“Are you zooming on it?” Wren asked Charles softly. It was the only explanation. Compared to the circular station and the Earth Fleet carrier, it looked like the sun in contrast to Earth.
“No, Wren. That is a ship. I can’t tell, but from what I can gather from the Interface, this would match some old blueprints for a colony ship that was never built,” Charles replied.
“I had no idea we’d built colony ships.” Wren kept staring at it, marveling at the beauty of the vessel. She’d never cared about space ships or the like, but seeing this one, she was instantly drawn to the aesthetics: curved frame, massive thrusters, and a sleekness to it that was rarely seen in vessels. This was built for comfort and function, that much was clear. The hull had a matte gray finish, with blue streaks racing down the sides.
“We didn’t, or at least that’s what the Fleet wants you to think. I found the blueprint through a backdoor access of the Fleet’s old files. It appears someone forgot to code it properly.” Charles had impressed her once again with his resourcefulness.
They followed the fighters into the station, where Charles parked inside the blue energy field with a new expertise.
Wren stepped off the ship, quickly raising her hands as the armed soldiers surrounded her in the hangar. “We have no weapons,” she told them. They didn’t seem to care, as not one of them lowered their gun. Charles came off next, eyes glowing a bright orange.
“Is your name Wren Sando?” one of the armed women asked from behind a mask. They wore black uniforms, and Wren noticed there weren’t Earth Fleet colors or decals on the patches. They had to be Fairbanks’ own personal guard. Interesting.
“That’s me,” she affirmed.
One of the tall female soldiers walked over, lowered her gun, and patted Wren down with a practiced efficiency. After they found nothing on her, the woman scanned the android, the device beeping gently when she was done.
“Can we see Fairbanks now?” Wren asked, getting a curt nod from the solider.
“You will call him by his proper title: Councilman Fairbanks,” a man said before waving his gun away, indicating they were to follow him.
Wren walked beside Charles, who looked around the hangar with interest. She couldn’t tell for sure, but the android seemed nervous.
Most of the ten or so soldiers stayed behind in the hangar, and only two of them continued with the pair of newcomers. Wren finally took a long breath, her nervous chest starting to unclench.
The halls of the station were wide, and they walked around the curvature of the floating structure until they arrived at a doorway halfway through the corridor. Wren cleared her throat as the soldiers alerted the person inside of their presence.
The door slid open, and Wren saw him.
Fairbanks was standing in front of a large mahogany desk. Behind him, the looming colony ship sat directly in view of office’s expansive windows.
“Wren Sando. As I live and breathe, it really is you. Hair’s a little shorter than I remember it.” He smiled at her, and she almost believed the old man was happy to see her.
Wren didn’t reply, but the solider behind her urged her forward with the tip of his blaster.
“There’s no need for that, Carl. Please, stand outside. I’ll call if I need you,” Fairbanks said to the soldiers.
“Sir, I think…” the man started.
Fairbanks cut him off. “I said I’ll call if I need you.”
The two soldiers left, the door sliding closed behind them.
“Wren, do you remember meeting me?” the councilman asked.
Intense rage filled Wren, and she struggled to keep it inside. All at once, it gushed from her and directed at the man. She lunged for him, grabbing him by the uniform.
“You son of a bitch. Do I remember you?” Her breath poured hot against the older man’s face. “I see your damned face every night before I sleep. Is that remembering enough for you?”
She expected the guards to come into the room at any moment, but to her surprise, Fairbanks didn’t call them.
“You have every right to be angry. If you’ll be so kind as to unhand me, I’ll explain everything to you, my dear.” He said the words with as much dignity as a man being held by his collar could.
“Don’t call me dear,” she snarled. Wren heard Charles step toward her, and he set a metal hand on her shoulder.
“Wren, I think it’s best if you release the councilman,” the android said, and Wren wondered if he really thought that or if it was self-preservation programming.
With a show of it, she let go of his clothing and stepped back a foot. “Fine. You have five minutes.”
“And then what? You do realize you don’t hold many cards here, Wren. I understand you’re upset and angry, but what h
appened to you wasn’t my fault, at least not directly. It was the Fleet. They found out what we were doing and shut it down against my wishes. I did all I could.”
“Which was what? Watching idly by from a dark corner while I was thrown into a prison to die?” Wren asked, still fighting to get her spiked pulse under control.
“They were going to kill you. The whole place was going to be incinerated, your androids wiped, and you and your team murdered for your involvement. I was the one who called Patrol to show up at the same time. That way, the Fleet had to be a little accountable for their actions. Instead of dying, you were judged and brought to prison.”
“I wish you’d let them kill me.” Wren’s shoulders slumped forward as she thought about that day. All of her bravado shot out of her in a rush, and she felt faint. “At least then it would be over.”
“Even I don’t believe you when you say that,” Fairbanks said. “Someone resigned to their own death wouldn’t have managed to escape prison and track me down when the Earth Fleet hasn’t even been able to do it.” He looked at her quizzically, his dense gray eyebrows raised, creasing his forehead with wrinkles. “Just how did you manage that?”
Wren lifted her chin toward Charles. “I didn’t. You could say I had a little help from a friend.”
“And how did he manage to do that?” Fairbanks asked, now looking at the android.
Wren stepped from foot to foot anxiously. “Charles, you don’t have to answer him. Get back to it, Fairbanks. The clock’s ticking.”
“Yes. We’ll have plenty of time for all that later. You want to know what happened to you, right?” When Wren nodded, the councilman continued. “Have you ever heard of a rift in space? Not quite a wormhole, but something akin to one.”
“I understand the concept, yes,” Wren said, unsure what the hell that had to do with her incarceration or the project she’d been involved with. Then she recalled the nature of her experiment, and what she’d considered a theoretical study of biowarfare against a specific DNA strain. “We’re being invaded, aren’t we?” She spat the thought out before considering what she said.
“You did pick up on the clues. I suppose it was quite obvious in retrospect, though most things are, after the fact. Yes, we’re being invaded. Or we think we will be, very soon.” Fairbanks went on to tell her a wild tale about the Rift that opened in deep space every thirty years. He described being there to experience it once, sixty years ago. He told her the Watchers had been hostile the last time they’d visited, but had retreated before the Rift closed.
It hit her then. “One of them didn’t make it back.”
“You’re a bright one. Yes, the DNA sample you were working with was from the single Watcher we have in our possession,” Fairbanks said.
“Where is it? Is it nearby?” Wren was excited about the prospect of seeing an actual alien. She was a biologist, and it would be life-changing for her to see a being from another world. What did it look like? How did it breathe? How similar was it to humans? The DNA had told her a little about them, but her focus had been more on a way to unravel the strains, not study the physical make-up of the source.
For a second, the man in front of her looked every year of his age. “I wasn’t even supposed to know it existed. I had my ways to get that sample. Karn found out about it and tracked it to your study in New Dallas.”
“The Grand Admiral was the one who killed my assistant, and tried to kill me?” Wren was furious. Her incarceration had come from the top of the Fleet.
“Yes.”
“Why me?” she asked him.
“What do you mean? Why you specifically?” Wren nodded. “Because you were the best. You are the best.”
“Don’t try to flatter me.” Wren ran her hands over her thighs and sat down in a chair by the desk. She pointed out the window at the ship. “What the hell is going on here?”
“I told you about the Watchers, but I didn’t tell you we sent a colony ship through two Rift openings ago. We’re going through. The Watcher taken by the Grand Admiral’s ship had what we call a Shift drive. We’ve built this technology from the small fighter he was in, and now we’ll be able to jump through the Rift from tens of thousands of kilometers away, without being detected.” Fairbanks once again spruced up, his chest slightly puffed out, his posture straighter.
“You’re assuming,” Charles said.
Fairbanks glanced to the android and gave him a thin-lipped grin. “Yes. We aren’t one hundred percent sure what their detection radars are like, but we have it on good authority that we can jump from a safe distance, head through the Rift, and end near the world we sent the last ship through to. The math works.”
The fight fled from Wren as quickly as it had come. The man here seemed far different than she’d expected. If what he was saying was true, the real enemies were the Earth Fleet and the Watchers. Fairbanks’ position blurred the line. “Why do this? You’re risking a lot. And if they do come with their own fleet this time, do you think our Earth Fleet can compete?”
“I do think we have a chance. The problem is, we don’t know what other technology they have. Our Fleet’s massive now. They’ve been streaming new recruits through for a couple of years. This means a lot of inexperience, but a lot of targets means the experienced fighters can have a better chance at success.” The councilman walked to the side of the room and looked back. “Want a drink?”
Wren didn’t ask what he was serving. She just hoped it was strong. “Make it a double.”
Fairbanks laughed, a light sound unbecoming the thin elderly man. He brought two glasses half full of a brown liquid and passed her one. “To old friendships.”
Wren clinked his glass. She was invested now. Fascination for the Watchers, and this mysterious world Fairbanks was heading for, clouded her mind more than any liquor ever could. He was her only way to see this through. “To new friendships,” she said and swallowed the smooth drink back. It made her throat tingle as it warmed her stomach.
He seemed pleased with the toast and took her glass, going for a refill. “Wren, if I found another sample, would you be able to continue your research?” He asked this while his back was turned from her.
Wren had thought her life was over on the Uranus Mining Prison for Women. The android beside her had changed that, and now this obsessed, wealthy man was giving her a chance to do what she was trained for. She smiled and accepted the new drink as he approached. “I’d like that very much.”
Fairbanks grinned. “Then it’s a good thing I have a laboratory on the Eureka.”
21
Ace
The trip was over. As expected, it took under a week to get from the moon to their destination, and Ace still didn’t know where that was. He sat with the rest of the recruits, fresh off a long shift in the simulators. He was tired but seeing the amassed Fleet in the distance as they approached gave him new fire.
There were dozens of carriers, a few corvettes, and a variety of Recon fighters, and even some versions of ships Ace hadn’t seen before in boot camp. He had no doubt that, within the carriers, hundreds, maybe even thousands of fighters were sitting there waiting for pilots.
War. There was no other explanation. The Earth Fleet was heading into war, and Ace, a kid from the streets of Old Chicago, was going to be fighting in it. The question was, who were they fighting? The Fleet hadn’t mentioned any major enemies, short of a few terrorist groups hiding out among the vastness of space.
In Ace’s opinion, having this many ships in one spot made the Fleet an awfully large target. If there were any serious terrorist threats, now would be the time to strike, while the carriers were clustered together like cans on a shelf. But someone older and much smarter than Ace would have considered that, and he assumed they were prepared for pretty much anything.
“This is crazy,” a girl said beside him. He glanced at her, recognizing her by her call sign: Streak. He couldn’t recall her real name.
Ace wasn’t able to find his tongue for a mom
ent, staring at the rows of carriers, once again shocked at their immense size as they approached in their own model. Soon they were moored at the far end, lining up to exit the ship and head into the massive station at the epicenter of the waiting Fleet.
Ace scanned the open space through a window as they shuffled in formation, looking for any sign of an invasion around them. Nothing. It was black space, like always. No alarms rang out. No flashes of fission bombs, just stars. His gut was warning him as he stepped onto the station, Streak still chatting behind him, even though he hadn’t replied.
“I can’t wait to see what we’re doing here. Do you think they have a mission for us? Do you think we’ll become heroes like the Fleet from the Black Wars?” she asked, and Ace suddenly felt sorry for her. Streak was a competent fighter pilot, but in his estimation, she was too enthusiastic. That would take her places she shouldn’t go out there.
“I hope not,” Ace answered, and she looked back at him, her mouth in a surprised “oh” shape. “We’re not ready, Streak. We don’t have the skills or experience yet. We’d be sitting ducks.”
She spun around in a huff. “Speak for yourself, Ace. I’m going to be the best of the best. Any terrorist bogeys come near me are going to get decimated PDQ.”
“PDQ?” Ace asked, unfamiliar with the acronym.
“Pretty damn quick. Where did you come from, Ace? Under a rock?” She laughed and kept moving.
Ace looked around and saw the recruits and staff from the other vessels all exiting their ships at the same time. Three lines poured into the same space simultaneously, making the receiving room feel crowded. The floors and wall were pure white, glossy and freshly cleaned from the look of it. The only thing that kept Ace from feeling like he was trapped in a small box was the hundred-foot ceilings with skylights, showing the light from stars trillions of kilometers away.
Ace was staring up when the person behind him bumped into him, almost sending him to the ground. “Sorry,” he said, regaining his balance. He followed Streak into a massive amphitheatre, but parted ways from her as soon as he was able. There were hundreds of people inside the room, and he spotted Serina near the front. With some unorthodox seat-climbing, he wound his way down to where his friend sat alone.
Rift Page 19
