Titanborn (12 page)

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Authors: Rhett C. Bruno

BOOK: Titanborn
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When he was done, a military escort led him and the immigrants off to physicians. I never had to go through the tedium of full immigration procedures, but I knew that the travelers would be extensively scrutinized before being fumigated in order to not risk infecting any Ringers with Earthborn diseases. Only then would they be released into new living arrangements, whether those were in the major colonies of Titan or on one of the many other moons and stations orbiting Saturn that were run by Pervenio Corp.

In no time Zhaff and I were the only ones left in the hangar.

“You don't like him,” Zhaff stated. His eye-lens was aimed toward the director as he led the immigrants toward their prospective fates.

I glanced up at the Cogent. I still found his ability to read my face so accurately unsettling, but I decided to ignore it. “I wouldn't say that. He's been my primary handler for far too many years, but you probably know that. We just haven't seen eye-to-eye lately.”

“Because of me?”

“I wish it were that simple,” I said, deciding not to be overly honest. Titan was a clean slate, a fresh start for me and my shiny new partner. At least for as long as I could tolerate him. “Don't worry yourself about it. I know how to handle him.”

Zhaff didn't have a response, and so we stood there quietly, waiting. Since he was the one who'd received our assignment to travel to Titan, I wasn't exactly sure what our next step was.

“Malcolm Graves, I presume?” a man asked from behind.

Zhaff and I turned to see a Pervenio officer strolling toward us from the other end of the hangar. He had a tall frame, which meant he was probably born on the station, but a broad, Earther jaw. He faced me, but I could tell he was discerning Zhaff out of his peripherals and wondering what to make of the Cogent's strange appearance.

“The one and only,” I joked. “Ready to get to work.”

He wasn't amused. “Good. I'll lead you to your quarters, where you can recover from your journey.”

“Lead away.”

We followed the officer through a private decontamination chamber and into a hall running parallel to the station's many hangar bays. A long, tall translucency ran along the floor at a downward angle, and beyond it the icy rocks that made up Saturn's Rings stretched out on a horizontal plane. The spotlights of a few working ice-hauler ships danced between them, and even farther away were the flickering lights of settlements on a dozen or so of the moons and stations that made up the vast archipelago of Saturn. Beyond that was a sea of starry blackness hankering to swallow it all.

When we reached a dormitory block, the officer stopped at a retinal scanner outside a sealed entrance. He placed his eye in front of it, causing the adjacent door to slide open. “Here you are then,” he said. “Director Sodervall will meet with you as soon as possible to brief you on the situation.”

“Great,” I lied. After what had happened on Undina and then Earth, I wasn't particularly looking forward to seeing him in person. He was a fair man, but only so long as his inferiors did what they were told and did it well.

The officer gestured toward the two beds on the opposite end of the room. A boiler suit was folded up on each of them. “Those are the newest line of weighted boiler suits. They'll help you acclimate to the low-g conditions both here and on Titan. You'll be able to move around more like you could on Earth when you put them on. Welcome to Pervenio station.”

The guard gave Zhaff one more curious look-over before he marched back in the direction we came from. The room wasn't particularly spacious, but it was filled end-to-end with workout equipment, from things as ordinary as treadmills to some complex stretching apparatuses I'd never had the nerve to test. A large porthole built into the floor on the far side poked through the moon's rocky, outer surface.

The only thing I cared about was the beds. I know I'd technically just slept for sixty days straight, but I threw on my new boiler suit and fell onto one as soon as the officer's footsteps died out. Drifting through space can take a hell of a toll on an older man's body.

“There is no time for rest,” Zhaff said as he entered behind me and began examining each piece of exercise equipment.

“There's plenty of it,” I replied. “No Ringer's getting off Titan now that Pervenio is on the lookout.”

He turned around and set his eye-lens directly on me. “It is not them I am concerned about.”

“Worry about yourself. Remember what I said about sleep? Unless you want me to get really grumpy, you'll let me get some.”

I lay down flat and stretched my arms and legs as far as they could go. I'd traversed space too many times to let Zhaff tell me what I needed. Keeping my head on straight with proper rest was far more important than making sure my legs didn't get sore. I could fight through that. A few minutes after closing my eyes, the repetitious sound of Zhaff beginning to run on one of the treadmills lulled me into a deep slumber.

Chapter 11

Hours later I woke up completely refreshed. Like I've said, there's no substitute for real sleep. Zhaff was still on a treadmill, running with expectedly sublime form. His quiet breaths were measured, and there wasn't a bead of sweat anywhere on his face. He turned to me as I swung my legs off the mattress and stretched my arms.

“Good morning, Malcolm,” he said the moment he noticed I was awake, continuing to run at full speed even as he spoke fluently. I'd never met a more efficient man in my whole life.

I exhaled and rubbed my eyes. “How long was I out?”

“Approximately five hours.” He paused for a moment. “Now that you have rested, I would advise you to join me. It is unwise not to train your body after being in hibernation for so long.”

“Fine, fine.”

I couldn't deny that he was right. Sleeping had my mind rejuvenated, but my legs still felt like jelly from months in space. I lumbered over to a second treadmill to join him. It was a decision I immediately regretted. Not only could I not keep up with his pace, but I started sweating after only a few minutes.

“Do you ever get tired?” I groaned, struggling not to stare at how effortless he made running seem.

“I do,” Zhaff responded in his usual, terse manner.


I do,
” I mocked. “How long have they been training you anyway?”

“Since I was twenty-nine hundred and sixty-six days old.”

I wasn't expecting an answer other than
That is classified,
so I found myself too startled to think of a response right away. I knew Zhaff was only around his late teens, but the emergence of the Cogent Initiative was a fairly recent occurrence. I couldn't imagine what a child version of him would have to say. The disturbing image of him growing up in a bio-tube popped into my head.

“You do have a family, right?” I finally asked.

“I have biological parents if that is what you are implying?”

“Yeah.”

“I do. When my abilities were discovered, I was taken from them to be trained in seclusion. Relationships would have been a distraction.” He was being completely sincere. He stepped off the treadmill and dropped into push-ups. His elbows bent to perfect ninety-degree angles.

“Tell me about it. So what are these abilities? If we're going to be working together, I'd rather know something about the man who has my back other than the fact that you're a complete pain in my ass.”

“Much of that information is classified.”

As usual. I would've sighed but there was no air left in my lungs from running. “Say whatever you can. They never told us much about the Initiative…or most of what they do, to be honest. I just want to know that you can't read minds.”

“That is scientifically impossible. Cogents are selected from children with heightened senses and intuition, among other abnormalities. I have heard us compared to savants, though that is not entirely accurate.”

“So basically you're all brains, no gut.”

“Considering all facets of human activity stem from the brain, yes,” he said. “However, I was born with a low-functioning amygdala and a—”

“You're wasting your breath with that talk. I didn't pay much attention to science lectures when I was in school.”

“Simplistically, while my intelligence quota is high, I am not proficient in what you would call social situations.”

“No kidding?” I joked. His expression remained stagnant. “So, what, they slammed you into a solitary box on some asteroid and trained you to excel at the things you are good at?”

“It was not on an asteroid.”

The thought of being locked up was so unsettling to me that I nearly tripped. That was as close as I was going to get to a yes from him. Not sure what else to say, I decided to focus on my running and leave it at that.

“In your file it said you belonged to the clan-family Amissum,” Zhaff said, breaking the silence. “Why does your surname not match theirs?”

“I did,” I replied, shocking myself by answering so quickly. Nobody had cared enough to ask about my family in years, and I hadn't cared enough to tell anyone, either. I'm not exactly sure why I chose to open up then, but I did. I was probably just trying to distract myself from how much my body was aching, but I suppose I realized that if I wanted real answers about who he was then I had to give some info about myself, too. Like it or not, for the time being we were partners and I needed him to have my back.

“Like most Earthers,” I continued. “Raising children in the safety of numbers, matching parents to avoid chronic diseases, you know the spiel. We lived a short train-ride outside New London. Two natural parents and a dozen others taking care of me and my fifty or so siblings. They were a nice bunch, factory workers mostly I remember, but they were so happy with having the bare minimum. It never made any sense to me. I knew from the day I held a gun that I wasn't suited for a factory. Eventually I couldn't take it and left. I took my own name, and haven't heard from any of them since. Even if they did know or care where I am, they'd probably be too scared to talk to me considering what I am. Can't say that I blame them.

“I never really cared for having such a large family anyway; for being matched and sharing wives with the same last name even if we weren't blood. People call the Ringers primitive because they're still passionate about the whole monogamous-relationship thing, but it seems a hell of a lot simpler even if it isn't as safe and efficient as my people like it. Anyway, I never got a chance to try that out before I accidentally put a daughter in someone's belly—” I wished I could take back the words as soon as they left my lips.

Zhaff halted his routine and tilted his head in my direction. The change in his facial expression was almost negligible, but his thin, dark eyebrows rose a hair as if to indicate curiosity. “You have created life? That was not listed in your file.”

Years of keeping Aria a secret from my bosses and that one momentary slip undid all of it. I'd only hid her so that she could come with me on assignments rather than the directors sending her off to some clan-family so I could focus on the job or whatever they'd do. I wasn't the first collector to get a woman pregnant without USF clearance after all, and I sure as hell doubted I'd be the last.

“It wouldn't be, but yes I have,” I said, deciding that there was no point in trying to hide it anymore. She was gone, and Director Sodervall wasn't the type of man to chastise me all those years later when he inevitably found out about my illegitimate daughter from one of Zhaff's reports, especially considering the worst possible punishment he could muster was the Cogent already in front of me.

“I presume you are implying that you weren't merely a donor?” Zhaff asked.

“I think all men technically are,” I laughed. “No. I was there when she was made, and for most of the years after.”

“I do not understand. Where is your reproduction paperwork then? And the selected partner?”

“She's illegitimate, Zhaff. Illegal. You can report me if you'd like, but it won't matter anymore.”

“I am not an operative of the United Sol Federation. I would suggest you take up the issue with the assembly if you wish to report your crime and be punished accordingly.”

I smirked. “I'll pass.”

“Was your partner cleared?” Zhaff said after a brief pause. Only then did I notice that he'd stopped all exercise and was sitting on the floor. I swear I'd never seen him so intrigued by anything even if it didn't show much in his features.

“The mother? She was a streetwalker on Mars I favored in my younger days. Beautiful woman, with striking red hair…” My running slowed to a walk as she entered my thoughts.

We met in one of the many unused sewer systems on Mars re-outfitted as a brothel during an extended assignment. She was well worth the price. I was never one to find anything more than pleasure in a woman's arms for a night or two, but we had a real connection. The next time I was on the Red Planet for work I sought her out, and when I found her she was dying from an infection from another client. She had an infant with her, claimed it was mine since she couldn't afford her fertility control when we met, and dumped the girl at my feet. A blood test on the black market proved she was right. Looking back, I should've dropped Aria off somewhere suited for a baby and walked away. She would have had a better life. But however she did it, she had me from the first moment I looked into her big, beautiful green eyes.

I shook the memory out of my head. I was standing completely still on the treadmill by then, staring blankly ahead. “She died shortly after our daughter was born,” I continued. “More than two decades ago now. After that I brought Aria, that's her name, along wherever Pervenio sent me. For a while she'd help me when she could, but the older she grew the less she approved of what my job entailed. Eventually, I got her involved in something that got her friend killed, and it was too much for her to stomach. She moved back to the Red Planet permanently and we lost contact. Last I heard she worked in a hospital there, helping the sick and dying.”

Zhaff's lip twitched slightly after I finished, displaying a level of emotion I wasn't accustomed to seeing from him. It was probably because he was allergic to anyone breaking the rules. His eye-lens remained fixated on me, but he didn't say a word. He just sat quietly until the silence made me itch.

“Amazing that such a brilliant, caring girl could've come from an old wretch like me,” I said. “I only wish I realized earlier that making her was the only good thing I've ever done, though I don't suppose you'd understand that.”

“I do understand,” Zhaff replied immediately. “The propagation of human life is our greatest chance at progress.”

It was the same jargon the USF had been spewing out ever since the Meteorite. The same shit that often dominated my own thoughts and made me itch when I stayed on Earth too long. She was my daughter, not just another body to help preserve the future. “Do you ever think before you talk?” I grumbled.

“Always,” Zhaff stated. He started exercising again as if nothing had happened.

I should've known it would be a mistake to open up to him. It was difficult to be angry considering how he could be, but I didn't lightly bring up Aria with others. Now he was one of the handful of people in the solar system I'd ever told about her, and probably the only one who'd remember.

I exhaled as I stepped off the treadmill and stared out through the room's viewport at the Ring. The station had rotated throughout the day and I now had a view of the stormy upper atmosphere of Saturn, so tremendous that it eclipsed all of space. I wondered if maybe she was anywhere out there. At least because of Zhaff her name might wind up public knowledge if anybody with Pervenio Corp stumbled upon her, provided she didn't change it the way I had after I ran away.

“Malcolm?” someone outside the room said, drawing me out of my ruminations. It was followed by a knock at the door. I glanced over at the sealed entrance, but remained quiet. I had a feeling I knew who was outside and wasn't in the mood for any lectures. Zhaff didn't allow the calm to last.

“You may enter,” Zhaff said as he stopped exercising.

The door slid open, and in it appeared Director Sodervall wearing the same outfit as earlier. He did appear to be a little more tired after dealing with the immigrants.

“Malcolm Graves!” he said gleefully when he entered. I expected him to act far more cross after what had happened on Earth and Undina. Instead, he appeared grateful for my arrival. He rushed past Zhaff as if the Cogent weren't even there, placed his wrinkled hand on my shoulder, and grinned. “Sorry to ruin your vacation with all this.”

“Trust me, I don't mind.” I returned the gesture. We were beyond the point of me having to address him as
sir.

“What has it been, three, four years since I saw you in person?”

“Something like that. I can't believe they still have an old man like you in command here.”

“Only until they find someone better,” he joked. The smile he was wearing faded when Zhaff appeared beside him.

“I can relate. This is the partner you assigned me.” I gestured toward the Cogent with both hands. “Zhaff. Fresh out of the Cogent Initiative.”

Zhaff stepped forward with perfect posture and saluted. “Sir.”

I could tell by the director's darkening features that he hadn't actually met a Cogent before. He saluted back halfheartedly before putting his arm around my shoulder. He turned me around and walked me as far away as we could get in the room. It was relieving to know that even he felt uncomfortable around Zhaff.

“A little young, don't you think?” Director Sodervall whispered into my ear. “Even for one of them.”

I glanced back over my shoulder at Zhaff, who stood quietly in place with his eye-lens tracking us. I remembered how I'd noticed the same thing when we first met. His tall body moved with inhuman fluidity and precision, as if he were gliding effortlessly across a paper-thin sheet of ice with no fear of falling through. That was probably what made his age seem so bizarre. That or his taciturn face, which never showed any perceptible emotion.

I shrugged. “I figured you knew. Better to start them young I guess.”

“So I hear,” Director Sodervall replied.

“Look, sir, about what happened on Earth, I—”

He shook his head and looked me straight in the eyes. “Forget it. We had no idea what we were up against at the time, but now we do. Focus on the job at hand.” He turned back around so that we were again facing Zhaff, though he continued to address only me directly. “You two need to build up your strength and plan your next move. You'll have access to all our shipping records, and whatever else you may need. I wish I could offer more help, but I don't have many officers or collectors to spare these days. They're all on assignment here.”

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