He terrified her in moments like this, no different than how he took her through the strictest paces during military training exercises in Louisiana. Yet this time, she decided, he was being unreasonable. Sammie almost found the courage to fight back.
“Daddy, I’m thirteen. I’m in middle school. Nobody would …”
“Stop it, Pumpkin. You’re making a scene. I read this entire collection of childish garbage. You have lost your objectivity with James. You love him.”
Sammie didn’t realize how hard she was crying when her father cut to the quick.
“Daddy, I … he’s only got twenty-seven months to live. His whole identity will be wiped when he transitions. He deserves some happiness. What’s wrong with having feelings for him?”
“The same problem with keeping a diary. It compromises our mission.” He let go of her hair and wiped her tears. Walt leaned back and lowered his voice. “I’m sorry, Pumpkin. I had not intended to bring out the diary today. Go to your room. Change into more appropriate clothes. I’ll be up shortly.”
She followed his orders, as always. Sammie also knew he was right on every count. She did step over the line by even referencing the Mentor. You’re supposed to be tougher than this, she thought as she ascended the stairs. You’re going to be a soldier of the Guard.
She changed into a simple blouse and blue jeans then sat in silence on the edge of her bed.
Walt and Grace told her for years not to fall for the emotional bait that humans on this Earth used to manipulate each other. Stand firm against the judgment of the devout, they said. Ignore the petty material concerns of her peers, they said. Rather, she should utilize her classmates for leverage by understating her true abilities.
All of which worked reasonably well for Sammie until Walt and Grace pushed her more deeply into Jamie’s orbit. She was old enough, they told her at the start of sixth grade, to be Jamie’s primary observer. Ingratiate yourself, they said. Find common interests, they said.
The work proved harder than she expected, especially when Michael Cooper dominated Jamie’s time. Not that she ever dared voice these concerns to her parents. She liked Michael, too, and feared what they might do to him simply to shift the balance.
Sammie didn’t know when the feelings first emerged, only that she was now the only one in this universe to truly understand the boy Jamie kept buried deep inside. Was it so wrong to fall in love?
Walt knocked before he entered.
“Much better,” he said after looking her over. He carried a small black case, familiar to Sammie. “Pumpkin,” he said, taking a seat beside her. “The past cannot be altered. I have destroyed the diary. What’s in this box is all that should matter now. The future. All our dreams for you. In less than three years, you will earn your first stripes fighting for the Unification Guard. What you do in the coming months will set the tone. Yes?”
She opened the box. The Glock lay in its padded compartment, clean and polished – the way she left it after the last training.
“It’s a beautiful albeit simplistic weapon,” Walt said. “But you mastered it with incredible speed. Your techniques with a pistol have demonstrated you are a natural born soldier.”
Sammie grabbed the pistol. Her father was right: The weapon felt like a logical extension of her body from the first time she fired it. Over the past three years, she demonstrated mastery, both in precision aim and body positioning throughout even the most difficult scenarios. The Glock was her starter weapon; rifles followed, most recently her first encounter with an M16. Yet these weapons did not compare to the Mark-class blast rifles of the Guard. Her father told her stories of the staggering power of these rifles, which became literal extensions and fired hundreds of rounds of flash pegs while communicating with the soldier’s thoughts through a DR29 helmet sensor.
“You love this gun,” he said. “Yes?”
Sammie smiled. “I do, Daddy. I really do.”
“Your future is in the Guard. A protector of the Chancellory. Samantha, you will be the mirror opposite of the meek child you project on this world. Our descendancy holds enormous sway – and wealth. When we return with the Jewel, we will strike a new path for Chancellors. We will be celebrated for our fifteen years of sacrifice. And you will wear the crimson of the Guard.”
“I know,” she said, her heart soaring at the vision her father preached almost daily. “And I want it, Daddy. I do. But I can’t help how I feel about Jamie. I do love him.”
“Love is an unwanted complication on the best of days, Pumpkin. For a soldier of the Guard, it can be fatal. In a few months, you will be ready for Dacha. If you become conflicted by the same empathy that spawns love, you will not be able to finish the mission.”
Dacha. The hunt. Track a man through the wilderness and execute him with a single shot to the head. Sammie wanted to believe she could be both people: A gentle soul, capable of loving with a full heart; and a precision killer, able to shut down her appreciation for human life. A true Chancellor knows how to play both roles in appropriate doses, her father taught her. We also know which one will destroy us.
“I’ll be stronger, Daddy. I promise. I’ll keep more distance from Jamie, if that’s what you want.”
“No, no. Maintain your duties as observer, but also maintain objectivity. James Sheridan is doomed, and no amount of love will change that future. Understand, Pumpkin?”
“I do.”
“Good. Spring break is next week. We’ll spend all of it in Louisiana. Get you back on track. Yes?”
He kissed her forehead and told her to come down for dinner.
Sammie stayed behind, clutching the Glock. She stood before a mirror and demonstrated her best firing techniques. Though she struggled to see a soldier in her meager, childish frame, Sammie knew she would change rapidly across the fold. Guard synthetics, regular infusions of brontinium extract hoarded on the Pynn estate, and accelerated weight training would turn her into a fighting monster within months. Jamie would be long gone, replaced by another personality serving the Chancellory’s larger goals of preservation.
It all made sense.
If only she knew how to strip away her love for him.
She developed a technique for catching herself every time her emotions clouded her objectivity. A simple recitation:
Six, five, four, three, two, one. Reset.
Over time, Sammie had varying success with this method. However, her emotions betrayed her twenty-seven months later when she forgot to count down at her parents’ lake house. Jamie did the rest.
PART TWO
SAMANTHA
The revelation about the true nature of humanity’s history under the Chancellors was perhaps the most profound. The resulting crisis of confidence proved to be the Chancellors’ final humiliation. The cyclical wars that followed were inevitable, of course, but no less predictable than the collapse of an institution three millennia in the making. What rose from Hiebimini in its place astounded all who witnessed those times. Even today, those who manage the new dominion remain amazed how it all changed in SY 5358.
- Edward Faust
- Annotation 1046-C
- The Fall of the Collectorate, Volume 4
9
Lioness, flagship of the Salvation fleet
Orbiting Hiebimini
Standard Day 5, SY 5358
3.7 months after realignment
S AMANTHA PYNN, THE FIRST SALVATION ambassador to Earth, took a final look through the holomirror. She needed to make the best impression – for Brother James, for the Chancellory representatives, and for anyone who might later watch the CVid. She was thinking of no one in particular; she suppressed all other names. Especially the one.
Steady. Graceful. Poised.
She thought her tight pixie cut – the best she could manage given how slowly the hair grew back – looked officious, precisely the tone her new job required. She liked her prosthetic lenses; they sparkled ocean blue. Of most concern was her complexion. Did the makeup yield eno
ugh color in her cheeks? There must be no signs of malnutrition or the residual effects of the black hole.
Yes. This will do. They’ll believe me.
She tucked at her sari, a purple-and-gold design that, when complemented by a glistening emerald necklace, signaled prestige among the Chancellory.
“I’m ready,” she told the two armed immortals who entered her quarters moments ago, decked in the olive bodysuit of Salvation’s army. “Will you be my keepers?”
“We will,” said a close-shaved blond girl who Samantha thought to be no more than thirteen. “I am Rosa Marteen.”
The boy, perhaps a few years older and six inches taller, laid a gloved hand over his holstered laser pistol.
“Col. Miguel Lennox. We are more than your keepers. Violate the terms set by Brother James, and we may also be your executioners.”
“Don’t worry, Miguel. I am your ally. I have known Brother James longer than anyone in this fleet. Yes?”
For a second, Sam thought she tamed the immortal, but he responded with a glancing blow.
“That is why you cannot be trusted. Time to go.”
As they started toward the door, Sam felt an icy shiver.
“I’m curious. Will Sister Rayna be seeing us off?”
“No,” Rosa volunteered. “She is away on colonial business.”
“Of course. Shoring up our allies.”
Sam fixed a wide, ingratiating smile and allowed the immortals to lead her to the lift. Inside, her heart gushed. She felt a sudden, liberating rush of calm. She wanted no impediment to the poise she spent days struggling to construct.
Moments later, the lift opened, and she followed her keepers into a control center. Half a dozen immortals manned hologrids, and one of them threw open a massive window onto the landing bay.
Brother James, who towered over them all, stepped forward to a position inches from the window. His beard was thicker than she last remembered, his golden hair farther down his back. But the eyes – with those glowing red pistils in each corner – touched Sam with the same dread as that first time in stellar dome. How long ago was it since James shared his light?
Though Sam and her keepers stopped until commanded to move forward, they had a clear view of the moment. The holowindow focused on an outer edge of the landing bay, where ten people not in the uniforms of immortals or hybrids stood abreast outside a Scramjet.
“Your loyalty to this fleet,” James told them, “has been vital to our success. On behalf of my wife and my brother, I wish to thank you. As I promised from the beginning, I am setting you free. You may go anywhere you wish, but you will never set foot on Hiebimini.”
The people Sam now realized were Chancellors nodded in thanks and started toward the Scramjet. James threw away the holowindow and turned to the nearest immortal.
“Are our people in place?”
“Yes, Brother James. All soldiers have engaged their clampsoles.”
“Good. Set the Chancellors free.”
In a matter of seconds, the cascade barrier that shielded the landing bay from the vacuum of space dissipated. As the oxygen soared into space, the ten Chancellors panicked and tried to resist, standing at awkward angles as if fighting a tornado. Their bodies surrendered quickly and tumbled end-over-end until disappearing among the stars.
“Restore the barrier,” James ordered. “Survey for casualties.”
“We’re good, sir. The soldiers we lost will revive soon.”
James nodded. “Well done. Only sixty-five of their kind still in the fleet. They won’t be useful much longer. No more Chancellor garbage.”
His last words arrived the instant he locked on to Samantha.
“Speaking of … come forward.”
“Brother James,” Miguel said, “the envoy is ready.”
“Is she?”
James walked past the immortals and bared down on Sam, who had not seen him since her first day onboard. She didn’t know how many days passed since then. The black hole stripped all sense of time.
Just as then, Sam did not recognize the former Jamie Sheridan other than the blond hair, which was a deeper gold, as if revitalized. He blew on her face with a warm, sulfuric breeze.
Sam did not flinch. Steady. Graceful. Poised.
“She knows the script?” James asked as if she weren’t there. “All the talking points? The tone of the message?”
“Yes,” Miguel said. “Major Kane and his team have rehearsed her well. We have total confidence in …”
James waved him off. “And what about you, Samantha? Are you planning to serve me or betray me?”
“Service, Brother James,” she said, her eyes poised just beneath his, as her trainers advised. “I believe Salvation and the Chancellory can settle their differences.”
He sniffed deep and inhaled, his eyes shut for a moment. When he reopened them, the red lasers illuminated sunrise orange.
“No, Samantha. You don’t believe because you know we can’t. But you will convince them anyway.”
“Yes, James, I …”
He did not let her speak. Instead, James grabbed her as if she were the love of his life and bore his lips into her, his tongue extended. Waves of serenity infused her senses and opened her mind. For an instant, she saw a vision. Something brilliant on the horizon, a miracle rising from the ashes of … ?
James pulled away, the residual blue glow on his lips.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I love you, Brother James.”
“Yes, you do.” He leaned in close. “For now. If you ever step out of line, become anything other than my servant monster, I will incinerate you. And if Michael still lives, I’ll send him your ashes.”
He pushed her aside and left the control room with an order:
“Take her to the rendezvous.”
He seemed overly abrupt, even rude; but at the moment, Sam didn’t mind. He showed her the glory of his light for a second time, well worth the wait.
She walked on a cloud, following her keepers to the landing bay and into the Scramjet earlier presented as an escape for ten Chancellors. The immortals turned in their weapons to the quartermaster, as ordered. Rosa buckled her in, making sure not to interfere with the sari’s folds and creases, and secured herself in the next seat. Miguel raised a cascade barrier in the forward cabin and disappeared from view as he entered the navigation cylinder.
“Col. Lennox was one of the first immortals to learn how to navigate the Slope,” Rosa said. “But I think he’s nervous. He doesn’t much care for an audience. Is this your first time for Slope travel?”
Sam searched her memory, which was inconsistent from day to day.
“No, Rosa. But I don’t think I was conscious the first time.”
An image of her home in Boston tried to sneak in and distract Sam. She saw the Helmut twins. They took her by force. They … Yes, she asked about them a few days after exiting the black hole. It was Maj. Kane who told her they were spaced. They weren’t hybrids or immortals, though they did as Brother James asked. The punishment seemed unfair, and yet … Sam felt nothing for them.
“This is my fourth mission,” Rosa said. “You might feel some nausea when we jump, but it passes.”
A short time later, the Scramjet lurched, as if being tossed sideways, but the experience lasted two seconds, and Sam felt nothing unusual.
“We will reach the rendezvous coordinates in 16 minutes, 22 seconds,” Miguel announced. “Remain buckled until I say otherwise.”
The first few minutes passed without conversation. Sam mentally rehearsed the script and practiced the body language Maj. Kane taught her. None of it was unusual for an experienced Chancellor in negotiation, but Sam fought an often-foggy recollection of her time on Earth. A piece of her said not to go there. After all, he was there.
“I have to ask,” Rosa said, breaking the silence. “What was it like? Receiving the light of Brother James?”
She didn’t have the words. “It was … haven’t you, Rosa? I thought eve
ryone in Salvation received his light.”
“Oh, yes, but it’s been more than a year since I was liberated. They say everyone sees his light differently. What did you see?”
The residual energy offered Sam a flashback.
“The future. I think. Something miraculous.”
“Oh, yes. Many miracles with Brother James. It’s such a great honor to be chosen for this mission. And for Brother James to see us off? He’s rarely onboard Lioness anymore.”
“Where is he usually?”
“Oh. Where is he not? Off delivering miracles to the colonies. Down on Hiebimini overseeing our new city. And then of course, there’s his family. Did you know Sister Rayna will be giving birth soon? There’s incredible excitement. The Jewels are having so many children these days. Of course, we immortals are all quite jealous because we’ll never be able to reproduce. But Brother James allowed Admiral Valentin to send more rescue missions across the colonies. Since realignment, we have liberated two hundred immortals. They’re on the planet training with the army. The admiral says we still have another seventeen hundred to rescue. We’ve all been so very busy. So, that future you saw? It will be miraculous.”
Sam did not hear most of Rosa’s chatty monologue. Her ears clutched onto the mention of Sister Rayna, and a blistering cold wave unnerved her. The echoes of that deep-throated Ukrainian voice. The woman’s hand on the back of her neck, the fingernails scraping deep and drawing blood. But worse, the ever-present smile with teeth exposed like daggers.
“He loved you once,” Rayna told Sam an hour after their first encounter in stellar dome months ago. “But he loves me now, and we have many babies. Do not think he showed you his light because he cares. No. You are tool. My husband will call when he needs you.”
Sam did not understand at the time, trapped between the revulsion of her circumstance and the joy produced by James’s kiss. But soon, Rayna made herself clear. She escorted Sam to a remote section of Lioness and entered a chamber all in white.
The Impossible Future: Complete set Page 113
