The Impossible Future: Complete set

by Frank Kennedy

  Rayna rubbed her hands across her husband’s enormous pectorals and laughed. It was the celebratory tone she used to take in the early days, during their supply raids.

  “Valentin, may I ask question?”

  “Always, Rayna.”

  “Do you think we are monsters?”

  The answer fell off his tongue in a flash.

  “Without a doubt. Cold-blooded killers. False gods. Psychopaths. Genetic abominations. But does it matter, Rayna? We are the victors, and that’s the only way people keep score. Yes?”

  She and James admired each other like lovesick teenagers.

  They didn’t object.

  73

  Pynn compound, Boston Prefecture

  Four days after global cease-fire

  M ICHAEL FELT NAKED WITHOUT A WEAPON, but having Sam at his side, holding her hand all the way back to Boston, proved an outstanding substitution. They didn’t need to say anything – most of their words were spent while he underwent treatment at a hospital in Philadelphia Redux. He did, however, compliment her purchase of the new Pynn Scramjet, which was about to land at the estate.

  “Sweet model. Fully loaded. Next time I go to the Scramjet dealer, you do the talking.”

  She laughed. “You always know how to crack me up. When all this is over, you should get back out in front of an audience.”

  “I think my days of playing the room are done, babe. Making those people laugh ain’t exactly appealing. They keep trying to kill me. Only a matter of time before they get it right.”

  She leaned over and kissed him. “I wasn’t talking about Chancellors. After the new treaty is approved, Solomons will own businesses. Somebody is bound to open a club.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Except that treaty ain’t nothing but talk right now. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “True. It’s going to be tense for a while, but we’ll get there.”

  The pilot made an announcement. “We’re touching down. Looks like you have a welcoming party.”

  Michael sighed. “Babe, what did you do?”

  She feigned surprise. “It’s nothing big. At least, I don’t think so. I only told a couple of people our schedule.”

  “A couple? Right. Just as long as they keep it short, OK? There’s only thing I want. You. Me. Sheets on top.”

  They rose after touchdown and Michael wrapped Sam in a hug gentle enough not to reactivate the pain from his ribs. The kiss was long, wet, and a preamble to how he hoped to spend the night.

  When the starboard port pixelated and Michael saw a few dozen people waiting outside, he pulled back on his plans for bedtime.

  Cheers greeted Michael and Sam as they emerged. The gathered assemblage ranged from the Pynn staff to her allies on the Americus Presidium, including Lucinda Blanche and Ezekiel Mollett, to the estate managers for both the Pynn and Moss descendancies.

  In fact, Merton Bayfield and David Ellstrom took the lead.

  “Welcome, home,” Merton said, hugging them both.

  Home? The word struck a nervous chord. Had any place ever really felt like home since crossing the fold? First, there was the brief sanctuary in New Stockholm City, then the months hiding away on the Pacific Riviera, and a life too good to be true in this sprawling Boston estate. To Michael, the Pynn house felt like another waystation on a path destined not to end here.

  He shook their hands. “Thank you, Merton. David. Thanks for everything you did for Sam. And David, I don’t know what to say. I still can’t get over what happened to Finnegan.”

  David sighed. “He played his role, Michael. If not for him, we wouldn’t be here now.”

  “Reckon not. Hell, most of us would probably be dead. Let’s speak later, OK? There’s something I need to ask you.”

  “Of course.”

  The greetings, the hugs, the handshakes continued. The pleasantries were brief, even muted. Michael sensed that they all recognized the same thing: This wasn’t a victory so much as a reprieve. They were walking a dangerous line without resolution.

  Michael was surprised to find Hellene Yaffetz waiting for him among the staff. She went into hiding with him and Rikard when Celia Marsche sent out her army of killers, and Michael lost track of her in Harrisboro. She wore her chef’s uniform.

  “I think I’ve had my fill of soldiering,” she said. “I wasn’t very good at it. Merton all but begged me to return.”

  They hugged, but it reminded Michael that he knew little of what happened to the team he flew out of the mountains. Rikard and Matthias amped in while he was going through holotreatment, but they didn’t have long to talk. As best they could tell, no one on his Scram died in Harrisboro, but at least one – Carlos Rivera –disappeared. Carlos wasn’t himself after the crash, and their allies in Harrisboro thought he might have walked away confused and dazed. They said he was struggling to remember his name. Maya Fontaine stayed with Michael at the hospital until Sam arrived, but she left without goodbye, and he didn’t see her among this crowd.

  Beyond that, the leaders of the equity movement had more than a full plate. After Supreme Admiral Poussard’s order for the Guard to stand down, Rikard and Matthias spent hours talking down Solomon cells from their own active combat roles. Solomon attacks broke out across the globe the same night as the battle in Harrisboro. Rikard and Matthias negotiated with Poussard and representatives from the Presidiums who put her in power to bring all fighting to an end. All parties agreed: A cease-fire held the best chance to reach a peaceful, long-term solution.

  Yet even those negotiations almost collapsed when Poussard proposed an additional tactic. She wanted to land the UGT fleet as originally planned under Admiral Grandover, except in a non-combat role. Station battalions in all the major cities, not to enact martial law but rather to deter any further disturbances.

  “The Chancellory,” she said, “needs to be protected against itself. The hard-liner descendancies will not sit still for this peace unless they know the Guard is no longer working for them.”

  Boston had been occupied for a day. The remainder of the redeployed Guard would arrive on Earth over the next two days.

  “All that firepower,” Michael told Rikard from his hospital bed. “They could still turn it against us. If somebody makes her a better offer, we’re screwed.”

  “I know, but we’ve never been closer to victory. If this deal will end our struggle, then all the friends we lost will have meaning.”

  Close to a thousand Solomons died worldwide, and hundreds more were missing. For all the messes Rikard and Matthias were trying to clean up, the guilt of what they’d wrought would remain much longer, Michael thought. Inquests were inevitable, like after the fall of SkyTower. Somehow, he thought it unlikely that the commanders of the movement were going to be allowed to walk away unscathed.

  For the moment, however, victory hung in the air, and the celebration at the Pynn compound moved inside, where platters of food and a bounty of wine and liquor greeted the attendees.

  “A couple of people?” Michael chided Sam. “With this spread, we could open the gates and invite half the damn city.”

  “And they’d love to come,” she said. “The other half, though? They’d probably show up with blast rifles.”

  Which wasn’t, Michael suspected, far from the truth. The schism between Chancellors was only bound to deepen following these developments and as progress began on eliminating the Solomon Treaty and replacing it with a unified citizenship treaty. But those were problems for another day, he told himself.

  Enjoy the moment while you can, dumbass.

  Indeed, Michael relished his first glass of jubriska in a couple of weeks. It took the edge off, for sure, and he was instantly reminded why he often drank it like water.

  Michael and Sam circulated through the party hand in hand, making sure to spend time with everyone who came to their aid and stayed with them in their darkest hours. Michael was especially pleased when he found Capt. Joseph Doltrice, the head of Sam’s strike team. He had not see
n the man since being delivered to a hospital after Harrisboro.

  “There he is,” Michael said, “Mr. Great Timing himself. I never had a chance to give you proper thanks, Captain.”

  “Please,” he said as they shook hands. “Joseph will do. That title was a temporary commission. I’m thankful we were able to reach you in time. I don’t like disappointing my clients, and Ms. Pynn is one of my favorites.”

  “She has that special way about her, don’t she?”

  “Yes, Mr. Cooper, she does.” He focused on Sam. “She also fulfills her promises. Thank you for delivering payment to my team so promptly. People like us are facing a difficult road. Those credits will help make it more manageable.”

  “Have you made a decision about my offer?” Sam asked.

  Michael knew nothing of this, but Joseph nodded.

  “I have. It’s obvious you will need additional security until the big picture is sorted. I’ll be pleased to work for you.”

  “That’s excellent.”

  Michael patted Joseph on the arm. “Cool, dude. Give us a chance to get to know each other.”

  “And perhaps,” Joseph said, curling his lips, “I might be able to teach you a thing or two. Like, for instance, how not to fall out of an uplift.”

  Michael laughed and winced at once, his ribs flaring up.

  “Not my finest moment, I reckon. Still, I’m glad you came back for me. You almost lost your entire team by doing that.”

  Joseph waved off the compliment. “I don’t like leaving people behind. From what I’ve been hearing, you have developed into quite a fighter. I think with a little seasoning, you could become an outstanding warrior, if that sort of thing appealed to you.”

  “It’s strange you put it that way. As much as this war scared the shit out of me, there was also part of me that felt really alive. Having an Ingmar or a blast rifle in my hands … it feels right. Hell, I didn’t even like guns growing up.”

  “Think about it, Michael. I can teach you whatever you need.”

  “I will. And what about your team? Are any of them going to join you here?”

  “No. They have their own interests to attend. The mercenaries are in a precarious situation until Poussard and the Sanctums decide what to do with us. We’ve had no allegiance to Chancellors or Solomons. Being in-between makes us an inconvenience.”

  “But,” Sam said, “you have my full protection.”

  “Along those lines, I’ve been meaning to speak with you, Ms. Pynn. I have an idea I would like to broach before the Admiralty. It’s a delicate proposal, but if they’re serious about securing Earth, I think they’ll listen.”

  “Absolutely. I can make it happen as soon as tomorrow. My allies and I will be returning to the GPM for more meetings. Join us.”

  Michael swooned with pride at the confidence in Sam’s voice. She was becoming the woman he always knew was there, and he loved her more with each new blossom.

  Later, after the party settled in nicely and Michael had his fill of delicacies and lit a pipe with the best poltash he ever smoked, he spotted David Ellstrom, sitting alone outside under the gazebo. He brought along a bottle of jubriska and another pipe and made himself at home on the bench next to David.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing David a pipe. He saw David’s hesitation. This might have been a party for most, but it was a wake for Finnegan’s Chief of Staff.

  “Remember that first night?” Michael asked. “Nearabout got myself killed at Entilles, and instead I wound up sitting outside smoking with Finn. I really wasn’t sure I could trust him, but I figured he was the best shot we had. And yeah, for the record, Sam told me what really went down at Entilles. I know it was a setup, but he was fighting a war, just like the rest of us. He was my friend.”

  “Finnegan was so very impressed with you,” David said, lighting the pipe. “The next morning, he said the depth of your humanity excited him and terrified him. You see, Finnegan spent most of his life looking for answers after his Guard years. I think he’d all but given up. It’s why he put his efforts into penetrating the inner circle of the hardliners. He thought that bringing them to ruin in some measure would make up for his savagery as a peacekeeper.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Few did. Meeting you recharged Finnegan.”

  “So, why did he do it, David? Sam told me you warned him to leave Celia Marsche before it was too late. Why didn’t he?”

  David poured himself a drink. “I’ve asked myself that question a hundred times. I’m still reviewing the data on his admin stack. Perhaps he left a final message embedded somewhere I haven’t overturned. Maybe after he acquired enough to bring down Celia, he didn’t care about himself anymore.” David threw back the liquor and wiped his lips. “He saved us all. There would be war in every city right now if not for him.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day,” Michael said between puffs. “A selfless Chancellor. I’m honored I knew him.” He threw back a glass and poured himself another. “And what about you? Sam told me about the shit that went on at the Moss compound.”

  “Yes. Nasty business. But I’m doing my best to extricate myself. Finnegan’s wife and brother have already notified their intention to claim the estate under dual ownership.”

  “Wait. The dude was married?”

  “Name only. A legal maneuver to leverage his family holdings. His brother Ethan is the executive officer on the UGT Maricopa. They landed outside Paris Dome last night. Ethan did not share Finnegan’s views about the Guard. They hadn’t spoken in years.”

  “Now that sounds more like a typical Chancellor family.” Michael held up his glass and proposed a toast. “To Finnegan Moss.”

  Their glasses clinked. “To Finnegan,” David said.

  “Maybe there’s hope for the Chancellors, after all.”

  They drank and smoked for a few more minutes until Michael encouraged David to return to the party.

  They soon found themselves amid a funeral.

  Nervous eyes, low voices, and a few tears awaited them.

  He found Sam.

  “What happened?”

  He saw her dismay, as if she couldn’t bear to say it.

  “Sam, what is it? Don’t tell me the cease-fire broke down.”

  “It’s too hard to believe, even for him.”

  “Him who?”

  “James.” The word fell off her tongue like a synonym for the plague. “Ohmigod, Michael. The others were right. They were always right. We should have killed him before he left Albion.”

  What happened next reminded Michael that while the Chancellory was one enemy, it wasn’t the enemy.

  74

  T HEY WATCHED THE TRANSMISSION INSIDE Merton Bayfield’s private office. He threw open a holowindow. Michael had no words for what he saw. This creature with golden locks flowing over his shoulders and a neatly trimmed beard of the same tone in no way resembled the kid he met while swimming in the Alamander River. The red glow in the creature’s eyes highlighted the lack of any leftover humanity. And the voice? Like the echo chamber of a demon spawned from hell. He took Sam’s hand and felt her tremors.

  “My name is Brother James,” the creature began. “I bring Salvation to the Collectorate and liberation to all the peoples who have bowed to the Chancellory for a thousand years. Once, you called the Chancellors and their so-called peacekeepers your gods, your protectors, your benefactors. Now, you have a new god, and I have the strength and the will to destroy every remaining Chancellor.

  “Today, my hand has reached out across eighteen systems. I have obliterated forty-eight Ark Carriers. If the Chancellory does not meet my demands, I will destroy the remainder of their fleet within seven standard days. I encourage all indigenous civilians of the thirty-eight colonies to rise up against the Chancellor Sanctums and expel them from your worlds. I encourage you to take vengeance upon the very caste that has deprived you of greatness and stolen the resources of your worlds. Demand every Chancellor leave your wor
lds immediately or face death.

  “I realize you might be frightened to challenge these forces. You might fear reprisal from the cowardly Unification Guard. You might also fear being isolated from the economic network of the Collectorate. I promise, you have nothing to fear. As sovereign worlds, you will control trade routes and manage the wealth of your resources on your own. I and my soldiers of Salvation will protect you. As of today, the Collectorate is over.

  “Soon, the last predators from Earth will leave your worlds. Celebrate this great victory and turn your loyalty and faith to me. I control life and death, as I have demonstrated on many colonies.

  “To the Chancellory, hear my message: Any Ark Carrier still in orbit seven standard days from now will be torn from existence. I have the ability to strike anywhere, without warning – a fact you know well. All Carriers will return to Earth. Once they have done so, no Carrier or Unification Guard transport will attempt to leave your solar system without my direct permission. If you follow my instructions, I will leave Earth at peace.

  “Soon, all colonial citizens will send representatives to a new world, where they will honor me and my people. For we are the inheritors of a design begun a million years ago, and we are the face of humanity’s future. Those who are loyal shall learn our secrets and make them your own. The rest will perish into history.

  “I have included extensive visual proof of my work with this broadcast, so that anyone who doubts my power will be voiceless.

  “I am the first day and the last day. Know me.”

  The broadcast ended. Sam fell into a chair.

  “He did it. I can’t even believe this. He did it.”

  “Did what?” Merton asked.

  “The message he sent me on Vasily Station. He said he was going to realign the Collectorate. I couldn’t even imagine what he meant. But he did it.”

  “No.” Michael fumed. “This is fake news. Has to be. There is no way that bastard could have pulled this off. Two years ago, he was a small-town cracker on a goddamn skateboard. Merton, how do we know this is real?”