Dark Space: Origin (37 page)

“No,” Hoff replied.

Atton reached out to lift the sheet, but a strong hand seized his and pushed him away.

“You don’t want to look under there—Destra, what are you doing!”

“No more secrets,” she said as she whipped the sheet off the body. Then she gasped and stumbled back. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she said.

Atton turned back to look, and he saw a very familiar humanoid body, recently sewn back together with thick black stitches running all the way from its sternum to its navel. It looked like a man, but the absence of visible genitalia, the pale translucent skin, and the presence of gills in the sides of the cadaver’s neck gave him away for what he really was. Atton turned on Hoff, suddenly furious. “What is this?”

“Did you think Kaon was the only one?”

Atton’s eyes narrowed and he turned back to the body. He walked around the table to examine the body more carefully. The cranial fins were missing, sliced off during an old torture session. “This is not just any Sythian, Hoff. This
is
Kaon. How did you . . .” Atton trailed off as realization dawned.

“Did you think I was going to wait forever to get my hands on him?”

“What have you done?” Atton asked, shaking his head. “Obsidian station . . . they found nothing but debris! It was supposed to have been a Sythian attack, but it wasn’t, was it? That’s why the
Interloper
was there. It was a Sythian ship. The damage would be consistent with Sythian weapons.”

“What’s he talking about?” Destra demanded.

“He killed them!” Atton said. “He killed more than a two hundred loyal officers just to get at Kaon!”

Destra’s eyes flew wide and she shook her head. She began backing away from her husband again.

Atton turned back to Hoff, his gaze sharp and full of accusation. “You killed them all.”

*  *  *

Captain Loba Caldin frowned out at the flashing gray clouds of the nebula. “What’s the delay?” she asked.

Beside her stood Junior Captain Crossid Adram, the former
captain
of the
Interloper.
Caldin turned to look at him. The man’s profile was vulturine and sinister, with a long, hooked nose and wispy white hair that barely covered his pale scalp. In the dim light of the alien cruiser, his hair seemed to glow neon purple.

Adram noticed her scrutiny and he flashed her a quick smile. “I don’t know,” he said, “but I’m sure the admiral has his reasons for waiting. He always has a good reason for everything. He’s the admiral, is he not? That’s all the justification he needs.”

Caldin frowned. Adram had been recently demoted for questioning orders too much. At the time she’d thought it harsh, but now she had a better understanding of the reason for the demotion. Adram’s attitude toward the admiral was borderline insubordinate.

“What do you suppose he’ll do with Dark Space once he has the
Valiant
back?” Adram mused.

“I suppose the admiral will take command,” Caldin replied.

“Yes, I suppose he will. His first act will probably be to execute all of the criminals—or have them chipped and turned into slave laborers.”

“I doubt his policies will be so extreme. Half of Dark Space has a criminal record.”

Adram shrugged. “Then supporting them won’t be such a burden anymore.”

Caldin’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Look, it’s not our place to ask those questions. We’re officers of the fleet. We follow orders.”

“Which orders and whose?”

“Any orders from a superior officer.”

A faint smile parted Adram’s lips. “Is that what you were doing when you were following the imposter overlord—not asking questions?”

“I wasn’t aware that he was an imposter.”

“Exactly, but as soon as you discovered that he was, you took the appropriate actions to replace him, because you realized that he was unfit for command.”

“Yes . . .”

“You know, Captain, you and I have a lot in common.”

“I fail to see how.”

Adram turned back to the viewport. “We were both sent to the Getties to explore . . . both of us came back decorated heroes . . . and both of us realized that the orders we were following had ultimately come from a traitor. The difference is you’ve already replaced your commander in chief.”

“You’re treading on very dangerous ground, Adram.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “But I have no choice.”

Caldin shook her head. “For your sake I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that. You need to get your head straight, Crossid,” she said, deliberately using his first name to make him realize that he’d lost her respect.

“What if I told you that the admiral killed hundreds of loyal officers in a calculated maneuver that he unilaterally decided was for the common good?”

“What are you talking about?”

“It would be better if I showed you.”

Caldin frowned and watched Adram walk across the deck to the captain’s table. She followed him there, her steps hesitant, her thoughts apprehensive. By the time she got there, Adram had already found whatever it was he was looking for. He stabbed a key on the holographic display, and a video sprang to life, shimmering in the air above the captain’s table. It showed a view from the simulated dome of the
Interloper’s
bridge—an unobstructed view of Obsidian Station. Caldin’s stomach began churning with dread as she watched the alien cruiser draw near to the station. Then, without warning, it opened fire. Hundreds of shining purple stars spun out toward the station, impacting moments later in an endless, fiery rain. Glowing holes appeared in the sides of the station and chunks of it went spinning off into space. By the time the log recording was over, Caldin’s legs were shaking, but whether from fear or fury, she couldn’t yet tell.

Adram turned to her with a grim expression. “Now you understand my insubordinate attitude. I was forced to carry out this execution, Caldin, and their deaths will never stop haunting me.”

Caldin shook her head. She didn’t have to wonder anymore whether she shook from fear or anger. Her hands had clenched into white-knuckled fists. “Why?”

“To get at Kaon. The overlord wouldn’t give him up willingly, so Admiral Heston decided to take him by force, but of course he couldn’t leave any witnesses. . . .”

Caldin gritted her teeth and took several deep breaths to calm herself. When she could finally speak once more, she said, “Put this up on the main holodisplay, Adram. The rest of my crew needs to see it.”

Chapter 24

“I
told you both already, I’m not a monster,” Hoff said. “I did order the
Interloper
to attack Obsidian Station, but not before her crew was put into stasis and safely locked away aboard the
Interloper
. I had Captain Adram transfer them to the
Destine
before we left. They should be arriving at the enclave as we speak.”

Atton breathed a sigh of relief. “Then why would you destroy the station? You could have just taken Kaon.”

“At the time you were still in power, acting as the supreme overlord of the Imperium. Kaon was in your hands, and I couldn’t steal him and take your people hostage. The simplest solution was to make it look like a Sythian attack.”

“What’s going to happen to the survivors?”

“The same as what happens to all of our refugees. They’ll start rebuilding on a colony world of their choice. They’re the lucky ones, Atton. Don’t feel bad for them.”

“What about us?” Destra asked.

“What about you?”

“You said we have a choice—join you or forget.”

“The forgetting is painless, and it’s not as invasive or sloppy as the slave chips you’re used to. You’ll never even know that you’ve been made to forget.”

Destra shook her head. “I’m not sure I can go back to the lies, Hoff.”

“I’ll hide them better this time.”

“No.”

“So you want to join me?” he asked, sounding surprised.

“I’m not sure about that either.”

“Then . . .”

“I may need to be on my own from now on.”

Hoff winced and took a step toward his wife. She took a step back. “Des, I’m the same man I’ve always been. . . .”

“I understand that, but . . . there isn’t a third option? You can’t trust me to keep your secret without becoming like you?”

Hoff started to say something, but he stopped himself and simply shook his head.

“Right, I forgot—
trust no one.
” Destra looked away, grimacing with disgust.

“What about you, Atton?” Hoff asked.

“I don’t believe what you’re doing is even possible.”

“You’d be surprised what’s possible, but even if you’re determined to stand by the philosophical objection that people have a soul, you still have to admit to the societal benefits. Imagine your clones are like children, except that whether or not those children squander your good instruction and their inheritance is entirely under
your
control.”

Atton ran a hand through his dark hair. “I need some time to think, too.”

“Very well. You have until we retake the
Valiant
to make up your minds.”

“What are you going to do with us until then?” Destra asked.

“You’ll be locked in our quarters, under house arrest.”

Destra smiled. “Generous of you.”

“Of course your access to comms will be restricted.”

“Of course,” Atton replied with a sarcastic twitch of his lips.

“Come. We had better go. They’re waiting for me on the bridge.” Hoff turned and started back toward the lift tube. Atton followed at a distance, walking beside his mother.

“I never imagined
this
was what Hoff was hiding,” Destra whispered. “You were right, Atton. I should have found out about this a long,
long
time ago.”

“Love blinds us,” he whispered back.

His mother smiled up at him. “You’re 17—what do you know about love? Don’t tell me you have someone waiting for you in Dark Space.”

Atton looked away, uncomfortable with the change of topic. “You don’t get to meet a lot of girls when you’re wearing a holoskin and looking like a 98 year-old man.”

“Hmmm . . . no, I suppose you wouldn’t.”

As they followed Admiral Heston into the lift, something occurred to Atton and he asked, “What did you send Commander Donali to do?”

“That’s classified.”

“You’re about to make me forget all of this, Hoff. What’s one more memory to suppress?”

The admiral glanced at him. “I gave him a Sythian tracking device.”

“A what?”

“It was cloaked in Kaon’s brain all this time,” Hoff said as he keyed the lift tube to rise up to the deck forty eight.

“The Gors didn’t betray us, did they?”

“It would appear I was wrong.”

Atton blinked. “Ritan?”

Hoff shook his head.

“Frek it, Admiral!” Atton slammed the side of the lift tube with his fist. “What have you done?”

“Just because Kaon was responsible for the communications we detected, doesn’t mean that the Gors are trustworthy.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? You’ve declared war on them!”

“You have to be at peace in order to declare war. I just cleared up the confusion for everyone.” The lift arrived and Hoff walked out into the secret passage leading to the maze in his backyard. “By the way, I’ve deactivated the lift,” he called out as he went. “Just in case either of you were thinking of going back to poke around some more.”

Atton scowled and whispered, “Hoff’s a whole other level of frekked up.”

He felt his mother’s hand on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go.”

“
This
is the man who’s going to be in charge of Dark Space? I can’t let that happen.”

“It might be too late to worry about who’s going to be in charge of Dark Space,” Destra said. “If the Sythian was implanted with a tracking device, and Donali is just taking it off the ship now . . . we’re already at the entrance of Dark Space, Atton,” she said. “You
know
what that means.”

Atton blinked, stupefied. He hadn’t even thought of that. “I’m going to kill him!” He raced out after the admiral. “Get back here you motherfrekker!”

“Atton!” Destra called after him, but he wouldn’t stop.

Everything he’d ever known was about to be torn away—
again
—and the man to blame for that was walking blithely away, as if he’d done nothing wrong. A quote from an old classic came to mind as Atton ran:
Justice is red, and it drips from our hands.

*  *  *

Ethan stood still and quiet, staring out into space. His finger traced a line of grease across the room’s only viewport, a small porthole which looked out at space. With his naked eye he could see dozens of bright blue contrails periodically flaring against the shimmering backdrop of stars. Whole squadrons twisted and turned in unison, their hulls glinting in the Firean System’s pale red sun. Destroyers and cruisers drifted slowly, their lights glittering in the dark as they checked the minefields and the ring of SLS interrupter buoys which Brondi had stolen from the treacherous Chorlis-Firean jump lane. Nothing had been left to chance. Petty and skriffy though he was, Brondi was a surprisingly astute tactician. He knew exactly how to set up his defenses against an incoming fleet. Ethan only hoped that the admiral was equally skilled at outwitting those defenses. He turned with a sigh and found himself face to face with Alara’s bright violet gaze.

“Is something bothering you?” she asked.

Ethan sighed. “More than one something.”

“Why don’t you come sit down and talk to me about it.” She gestured to the bed behind them.

Ethan’s gaze flicked briefly to the bed and he hesitated. “Alara . . .”

“Angel,” she purred.

“Kiddie,” he decided. “Look—”

She pressed her index finger to his lips. “Brondi has me all cooped up in here. No one is allowed to visit me. No one, that is, except for you. That means you have me all to yourself,” she said, eyeing him demurely before she grabbed his hand and placed it over her right breast. “What are you going to do about that?” she whispered.

Ethan removed his hand quickly. “Damn it, Kiddie! Stop that.”

She withdrew, looking startled. “What are you here for, then?”

“Don’t you remember me at all? We used to fly together until Brondi captured us. He had you chipped because we couldn’t pay our debts, and I’ve been forced to work for him ever since.”

She looked at him as though he might burst into flames at any minute. “If it makes you feel better to pretend you know me and that Brondi’s
forcing
you to frek me, I’ll go along with it. Good for your conscience I guess . . . Now I remember you, Ethan. I remember that I’ve always wanted you. Ever since the day we met. I’ve been just gagging for you to stick your—”

“Enough!” Ethan boomed. He rubbed his tired eyes. He’d flown too many back to back patrols. “This is pointless,” he said, shaking his head in defeat. “Look—I don’t have long before I have to get back out there. Right now my squadron is busy eating what will probably be their last meal, and if it’s not, that means that Brondi won, and we’ll be in even bigger trouble.”

“What are you trying to say? If you don’t have long, don’t worry, we can still have a good time.”

“I’m sure we could,” Ethan said, offering a patient smile. “But I didn’t come here to have a good time. I came here to say goodbye.” He took a step toward her, and she gazed up at him with wide, curious eyes. Suddenly, he opened his arms and enfolded her in a crushing hug. “I’m going to miss you, Kiddie,” he whispered into her ear. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the soft, beguiling fragrance of her hair and skin until he began to feel his eyes burn and his throat constrict. He withdrew—

And Alara gave him a resounding slap. “What is
wrong
with you? You come here, acting like you know me, turning me down over and over again—and all of that just to say goodbye? I don’t know who you think you are, or what you’re trying to do, but frek you, Ethan! It’s not funny. I’m a playgirl, and before that I was an orphan. You’re not supposed to care about either—you abandon the orphan and you use the playgirl when she asks you to so that she can pay her damn bills! What is
wrong
with you?” she repeated.