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Post by Sekot on Mar 31, 2015 12:00:56 GMT -5
“It’s getting cold. Can’t believe winter’s coming already.”
Tide slowly inched his fingers through the thin, damp grass away from where he lay.
“I know, I can’t either…”
His breathing became shallower, his heart beat faster, and he struggled to stop shaking. He stared up at the star covered sky, refusing to look to his left.
“When are you going back?”
The entirety of his concentration was focused on just his hand. Slowly. Slower. No quicker. Tide ignored the question. His hand came closer, closer to the radiating warmth of another. He hesitated. Momentarily all breathing stopped. He could hear his pulse in his ears. Nibbling on his lower lip, he took in a deep breath through his nose and made the effort. He laid his hand on his friend’s.
There was a brief moment of silence.
Tide turned his head slightly, just enough so that he could see the other. His friend was looking back at him, green eyes brightly lit underneath the heavy moons. A wide smile split the pale face, white teeth and thin lips. He felt his hand become enclosed in his friend’s, fingers tightly bound together. A heavy sigh blew out Tide’s nose as he rotated his head further so that the pair of them were looking directly at one another.
“I don’t want to go, Des. I don’t want to leave.”
Des looked down at their hands, his smile fading. There was an odd look on his face, a mixture of emotions fluttered quickly across his delicate features. Tide felt Des’ thumb gently brush across his skin. Their fingers parted just enough to allow Des to trace his thin fingers along Tide’s. The night was silent; nothing made a sound on the hill they lay upon. The forest behind them stood watch, the golden leaves just beginning to drop onto the musty earth. The twin moons dangled above them, rotating slowly about one another as they orbited the planet. They cast yellow and green light on Des and Tide, illuminated the space around them in varying degrees.
“Tide…”
Des’ voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. Tide pushed himself onto his side, supporting his upper half on an elbow. Des didn’t look up, instead continuing to stare at their hands. Tide observed his friend. Noticed the soft auburn hair that lay in disarray on a thin, oval face. Green eyes sat underneath thin brows and next to an angular nose. Sharp cheekbones flared underneath. Thin was a perfect adjective. That was Des. All sharp angles, barely any meat on his bones.
Des chose that moment to look back up at Tide, their gaze meeting. He felt warmth coming to his cheeks, a deepening redness as he wanted to look away from his longtime friend. They had known each other since they were small children. Had grown up in similar satellite villages. They met each other nearly every week in Crucea, the main hub of the colony with the only port to the outside systems. Their parents worked together and they had gone to school together. When they were old enough, they would make the journey across planet to visit one another. This behavior was unusual, once past the age of majority many youths stayed in their villages until they too found work in Crucea or in the fields.
“I don’t want to leave you,” Tide whispered, the words difficult to speak.
Without thinking, Tide leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Des’. He closed his eyes in vain attempt to stop Des’ stare from piercing through him, from opening his emotional insides. It was always better to act first with his friend, act first and talk about it later. He moved. Their lips met for a brief moment.
Tide leaned back, pulled his hand away and held his other across his chest. He stared back up at the stars. His heart had picked up its pace again. He swore he could feel himself melting into the ground, that all the moisture on the grass was his sweat. Time had stopped. It had come to a crashing halt.
He heard Des move. He shut his eyes, squeezed them tight. He didn’t want to see Des leave. He had done it now. Ruined it all. The night before he had to leave too. He recalled all the little moments the two had shared. They used to stay up all night, sleep ever elusive when they were together, and talk about anything they could think of. They talked about how fast they could run, if they could outrun the foot long insectoids that had preceded landfall. They talked about the first crush they both had. Des had been head over heels in love with his little petite girl, arguably smaller than he, who had long blond hair that blew wildly in even the slightest breeze. Tide had admitted his interest in a different girl, but he couldn’t match Des’ enthusiasm. His friend wouldn’t stop talking about bumping into her, about how they had said hello to each other once that day. One night, Tide had smashed his friend’s face with a pillow just to get him to shut up.
They had spent fifteen standard years together. They knew everything about each other. Almost. Tide convinced himself he had ruined it all.
He opened his eyes. Des’ face hovered over his own. His characteristic smile broke out, seemingly splitting his face in two. Tide opened his mouth to speak but was silenced as Des leaned forward and their lips met again. Des was far more determined than Tide had been, unleashing an assault of passion and awkward maneuvering of lips and tongue. Tide pushed into it, lifted his hand to grab the back of Des’ head and met him just as ferociously. He wanted to steal his air, pull the tongue out of his mouth, and find some way to embrace his soul via route of his mouth.
They parted just long enough for Des to roll onto Tide’s stomach, straddling him at the waist. Des giggled as the two gazed at one another. “Dumbass, took you long enough.”
Tide smiled, his not nearly as wide as Des’ but handsome enough. His blue eyes studied Des as Des studied him. He felt his friend’s hands digging through his closely cropped black hair, felt the warmth of them on his cheeks. Des bent down and kissed him again, playfully grinding their hips together. “I’ve only been waiting since we were twelve,” Des spoke into Tide’s ear as he lay upon him.
“What about Ashley?”
The girl Des had a crush on. He laughed. “Ashley? She’s a nice girl and all, but nah. If I had to, I’d contract with her but I never really wanted to do anything with her.”
Tide felt the familiar red warmth returning to his cheeks. He stammered but found no words so remained quiet. The pair continued to just look at one another as if a light had been turned on. They were no longer stumbling through the dark. Des’ face took on another angle, the moonlight hitting it in strange new ways.
“I don’t wanna go,” was all he could manage to say.
Des placed a gentle kiss on Tide’s forehead and pulled back so that his head was resting on Tide’s chest. “I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve wanted to lay just like this instead of on that cold ass floor of yours.”
Tide smiled. “Jackass, you could have said something.”
He felt Des shake his head, “Nu-uh. You’ve always been the braver one. I was gonna leave that up to you.”
Tide wanted to cry, felt the pressure gathering at the corner of his eyes and the tightness in his throat. He felt the bile building in his stomach and the rage building in his heart. A storm had gathered in his mind, the warmth of the calm before it evaporating moment by moment. “You can come with me, I can keep you safe. We can move on together, find our own way.”
There was no mistaking the pleading tone to his voice. Des lifted his head so that only his chin was resting on Tide. He pushed himself back up and kissed Tides’ chin, his cheek, then his mouth. He traced a finger across Tide’s eyebrow, down the bridge of his nose. “You know I can’t do that. Ma’s got a lot of work that needs doing.”
Des’ father had died in automaton accident. Virtually unheard of, the fire had raged for days before authorities could get it under control. The investigation revealed very little. The Company declared it human fault. Des and his mother had quickly fallen under crushing debt and tomorrow Des would be working the mines for the first time. “Plus, I never passed the physical. Unlike you Mr. Athlete.”
Tide couldn’t hold back the meager laugh that was summoned by Des’ compliment. Tide had been busy in his pre-majority years. He had played in his schools holo-ball tournaments, had even visited the orbiting platforms for v-grav gymnastics. He was bigger than Des by a foot, more muscular and athletic. Des was manufactured for thought-work. If his father hadn’t died he might have still had a chance at the academies. He may have even left for Cretia, the parent planet from which the system worlds had spawned where he could have excelled in their prestigious universities. Tide was manufactured for the military.
“I’ll write you every day,” Tide spoke. “I mean it.”
They both knew it was a lie. Tide would be placed under strict quarantine for two standard years. He would speak to no one but his fellow initiates and his commanding officer. He would be remade. And that future Tide would not be a man Des would recognize. Tide felt stupid. He wondered why he had waited so long to admit what he felt for Des.
The pair stayed on that hill until the twin moons had dipped beneath the horizon. They stayed as the system’s sun had begun its rise. Neither slept. Neither spoke. Together they shared the moment until time refused to wait any longer. They parted without saying goodbye.
* * * * *
Wake up
He turned onto his side.
Wake up
He groaned, bunching the sheets under his hand into his fist. He buried his face in a pillow.
WAKE UP
Pain arced down his spine. His eyes shot open, his back arched, and he let out a guttural groan. “Fucking…”
A switch was thrown. All senses returned at once in an explosive fury of physical and mental pain. Unnaturally blue-violet light spilled through the window who’s cover had slowly begun to rise. His eyes adjusted quickly but still his head ached as if a thousand tiny spears were needling his brain. “What’s wrong?”
He pushed himself up and dangled his legs off the side of the bed. Craning back, he placed his head against the stomach of his temporary roommate. “Time to get up,” his voice was gravely.
She brushed a strand of blond hair away from her face and rubbed her chocolate eyes. She pushed herself up to lean back against the headboard, the sheet falling away to expose her bare breasts. Glaring, she rolled her eyes. “Of course it is.”
Together they rose out of bed and went through their morning rituals. They ate without speaking over rehydrated meal packs, their minds elsewhere. She got up to leave first, pulling her grey jacket over her broad shoulders. She gave him one more passing look, a wink, and then she was gone.
Tide sighed through his nose as he tried to remember her name. He shrugged to himself as he wiped the last few crumbs off the plastic countertop. He would figure it out if he wanted her back. He stepped into the restroom and checked himself out in the mirror one last time. Black shirt, grey pants. Broad, round shoulders, broad chest, handsome face. Black hair buzzed short. He checked the Windo band on his wrist, no mail or notifications. He silently cursed the contraption for the rude alarm he couldn’t disable. He swore that there was some person somewhere that took sick joy in reprogramming the rise time.
He grabbed his jacket on the way out and slung it over one shoulder. The door opened as he stepped up to it and closed behind him when he stepped out. The corridor was mostly empty. Doors opened and closed as residents left for and returned from duty. Lights lined the curved ceiling that cast a sickly white glow on everyone’s face. They all appeared equally miserable. Though that may not have been an effect of the light.
He nodded to a few familiar faces, ignored many others, as he took commanding strides down the corridor and toward the nearest portal that would take him to his destination. He stepped inside, the system automatically recognizing his biosignature, and the doors closed tightly around him. The space was cramped and became even tighter as it formed to Tide’s body shape. Like a metal body bag, it held itself close. He had been riding this same capsule for the better part of three years and never got used to it.
The ride lasted a few minutes. Suddenly he found it much easier to breathe as the capsule expanded. The doors slid open and he stepped out into another corridor, this one much busier. A smaller man looked up at Tide impatiently, his eyes signaling his intent to utilize the portal next. Tide stepped to the side as he pulled on his jacket. The man made a remark under his breath but the doors shut before Tide could ask him to repeat himself. “It’s not worth it, Commander.”
Tide turned his attention to the adjutant that had appeared at his side. The image glimmered as it coalesced. Blue and white lines ran haphazardly across its facsimile appearance. It appeared as a woman dressed in the same bland uniform they were all required to wear, for all intents and purposes as real as he was. Except they never got the eyes right. They couldn’t decide if it was the code or just human perception, but instead of pupils there were data columns that scrolled upward from eyelid to eyelid.
“I have assembled a complete itinerary for you today, Commander. First we have a meeting with Captain Aaron, then we have a training session with new recruits from the Minor Systems, and then…”
Tide waved a hand and the adjutant was silenced. Its lips still moved, but thankfully he could no longer hear it talk. All adjutants were well known for having a lot to say but not very much substance. The Company looked upon them fondly however, so they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Tide wove his way through the crowd of officers and adjutants. There was a great deal of hushed conversation passed between human to human and human to program. Only a few glanced at Tide as he moved past them, no one acknowledged him. He turned a corner and the corridor dropped him onto the bridge.
Stretching for several hundred yards forward, the stark contrast between black floor of the corridor and polished white of the bridge caused him to blink for a second. Computer banks lined the walls and personnel lined the tables. Set up as rows and columns, each crewman with their own cubicle, it appeared very much like a farm from back home. Except sterile. And cold. And more cramped.
At the end of the bridge were several massive monitors that displayed the space outside. Data of various types scrolled on them, obscuring the view of stars and planets. Before those monitors were six chairs and in those chairs sat the six android pilots. Wires poked into their skin, snaked like overlarge veins into every nerve ending. They pumped hormones into their bodies, pumped nutrition into their stomachs and waste out of their bowels. Their eyes took up most of their face, their mouths nonexistent, and they constantly scanned those monitors. They comprehended far more than Tide ever could, and he was once again thankful he wasn’t manufactured to be one of them.
He completed the annoyingly long journey to the end of the bridge and stopped just before the steps to the raised platform that could overlook the entirety of the space. Captain Anthony sat in the large chair, his own set of wires linked directly to his nervous system, and appeared to be scanning through a large stack of tablets. Hard drives littered the floor around his chair and were scattered all over his command desk. Tide smiled to himself, it was all hardly regulation. But any internal affairs officer dumb enough to speak to the captain about it found themselves humiliated and worse off for their efforts.
“Commander Tide, welcome. You’re two minutes and forty three seconds late.”
The captain spoke without turning to face him. Tide shifted his weight from one foot to another and looked around to make sure no one heard him. Those crewmembers closest to him had their glassy-eyed attention focused solely on their screens. Absentmindedly Tide wondered what could possibly be on so many computers that required constant surveillance.
“Any excuses?”
The captain leaned back in his high backed chair and slowly rotated around so that he was able to look down on Tide. He was an ancient man, kept alive through sheer force of will. Years were etched onto his face, written in his eyes. His bald head had upon it a scar that stretched from right eye to behind his left ear. His mustache was grey and bushy and consumed most of the lower portion of his face. There was some trick to the architecture, to the lighting, that made him appear distant and large. He towered over Tide, over the banks of machines and the people he commanded. At his fingertips was a community, a kingdom. His throne overlooked all things, knew all things. He was framed against one particular monitor that had upon it the star they orbited. Its surface broiled blue-gold, churned with all the power of a god.
The central point of the Zed system, its light and heat stretched for hundreds of solar units. The few planets that rotated around it were burned away to dust and ash. A history that matched the volatility of Captain Anthony’s own. A battle-hardened warrior, he had won and lost many campaigns. He was a survivor. One of the few that remained.
“None, sir.”
The captain’s stormy eyes held Tide’s own, scanning and interpreting. Tide stood at full attention, unable and unwilling to break away.
“Come, we’ve got a lot to discuss,” he rotated back around, waving at Tide to ascend the stairs to his station.
Without hesitation Tide followed. The constant churning sounds of the bridge became quieter with each step, the view became hazy and each face became opaque sheets of flesh. He reached the top and was struck by the utter silence. The only sound came from the captain as he rearranged the command desk and tossed more harddrives onto the floor.
He looked out over the dais and toward the monitors. Gone were the streaming lines of colored data. They were replaced with an unobstructed view of infinite space. The star still glowed, the planets still spun, but it appeared in such a way that Tide was convinced he could reach out and touch them. The star was warm, comforting, and threatening. He felt the pain the planets felt basking in unshielded radiation.
“The admiral will be arriving soon.”
The captain’s words broke him out of his trance. “Wait…what?”
The captain leaned back, chose to look out at the monitors instead of at Tide. He folded his hands in his lap and snorted. “You heard me. Admiral Agetes will be arriving within a standard day. Along with the entirety of the Home Fleet. We are to act as the vanguard.”
“The…Home Fleet? All of it?”
“All one hundred thousand ships. Mostly support craft, but certainly the old bastard will be riding the Big Bitch herself along with her obese family.”
The “Big Bitch” was the World-Eater Zeus, one of the largest craft the Company could afford. It alone could raze, build, raze a world a thousand times over. “Why?”
“They’re coming. And Heracles can’t stop them all by herself.”
“How do you know?”
“The Unspeaking always had a flair for the dramatic. They sent a letter.”
“A letter…?”
“No not an actual letter, Commander. I swear, you’re all getting dumber by the cycle. We intercepted a drifting satellite. It was transmitting a signal that we just recently were able to decipher. It was no accident. They wanted us to find it. The Unspeaking are going to be here, and we’re going to meet ‘em.”
“So…we’re going to die.”
“Pretty much.”
The pair was silent. Tide chewed his lower lip. He wanted to ask so many more questions, but he had known the captain for a long time and such questions would be ill received. “What is my part in this?”
The sighed and waved a hand. One of the monitors split into four sections. The upper right quadrant magnified itself. Within it were fourteen diamond shaped ships, slender and glittering underneath the blue-gold light. They were easily several hundred yards in length themselves, sleek and new. No classifications appeared on the screen, no data streamed about their specifications. With a sinking feeling, Tide recognized them. Dark Stars. “You, and thirteen others, are going on a little adventure.”
* * * * *
He sat looking at the screen. The blue-white light was the only source within his room, his surroundings dark and foreign. On his computer screen was Des, older and beaten. He was much larger than when Tide had last seen him on Crucea, more fit. The mines had worked him hard, had molded him into a new person. Tide struggled to recognize him, failed to remember the particular tics in his face. He didn’t smile as much as Tide remembered.
“Hey, how’ve you been?” Des’ voice was heavier, fuller bodied. To Tide, it felt comforting. No one else could make him feel as safe as Des’ voice could. “It’s warm here. Always warm. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten. Mother’s…gone. Somewhere. I dunno. It’s just me now.”
He looked away. His hair had been stained a dirty yellow. His skin held traces of blood toxicity. Side effects of mine work. It would get him out of debt faster, but also radically transform him. He wasn’t the boy Tide once knew, but he was still the man he was in love with.
“Except Ashley. She’s still here. Still banging on my godsdamn door every other day.”
He smiled briefly as he looked back at the screen. Tide’s heart skipped a beat as he smiled back.
“I’ll have to contract with her soon, before…you know.”
He looked down at his lap.
“I miss you.”
The words were barely a whisper.
He looked back up, smiled once more. Then shut off the screen.
The room was cast into complete darkness.
That message was two standard years old. It was the last message Tide had received.
* * * * *
Her name was Adrianne. He took in a deep breath, the clean scent of her hair filling his nose. His hands moved across her slender body, caressed her breasts and took hold of her with every thrust. Their moans were animal, ecstatic and hungry. She grabbed his face with one hand and his ass with the other. He opened his eyes and looked down at her, at the joining of their bodies. She looked back up at him, grinning like a mad person. She bit her bottom lip and moaned words of want and desire. He fed her want, inflamed her desire.
Her nails scraped across his chest as their final moments gathered. Their breathing picked up pace. Sweat dripped down his nose, dripped down his chest. He pressed himself tightly against her, pressed his lips against hers. Their tongues danced in each other’s mouth. He groaned into her as he reached his climax. She followed shortly after, her body shuddering against his. They parted, chests heaving. He smiled at her and she smiled back. She rolled her eyes and used the sheet to wipe the sweat from her body. “Godsdamn.”
They both laughed. Tide pushed himself up off the bed, and stretched. He caught her looking him up and down, a look of obvious enjoyment on her face. He winked at her as he stepped into the bathroom to grab a glass of water and to wipe himself off. “And here I thought you forgot my name,” Adrianne said, leaning against the door frame.
He looked at her in the mirror, “ I did.”
Instead of angry, she looked bemused. “Of course you did. Bet you won’t be forgetting it anytime soon.”
She stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He watched her as he downed his water. She arched an eyebrow in invitation. He smiled and set the glass down on the counter. Before he turned toward her he looked back in the mirror. His computer screen sat blank on his desk in the dark room.
He turned and stepped underneath the warm water. The space was barely big enough to fit one person, let alone two. “So maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” she mumbled as she ran her hands through her wet hair.
Tide just grinned as he leaned down to kiss her. He pulled at her lower lip, slid his tongue across her teeth and stepped around her so that he could wipe himself down. “Its just fine.”
There was a few moments of silence that passed between them as they alternated places. They washed up as best they could in the tight quarters. He washed her backside, spending ample time around her firm ass before once again moving to embrace her. “I bet you do this for all the ladies.”
He laughed, “They wish.”
“I guess I should feel grateful just to be invited back?” there was a playful meanness to her tone.
“Of course.”
She leaned her head back and kissed him, shaking herself against his waist. “I don’t suppose you know anything more about this super secret project?” she asked.
Her grinding and dancing was starting to have an effect. “Nope, all I know is that there’s fourteen of us. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”
“Those Dark Stars look sexy…” her words trailed off as his hands moved to her waist.
“Not as sexy as you.”
“Dork.”
* * * * *
Tide’s Dark Star loomed in front of the cockpit. Its surface was smooth, flat, black as the space around it. It undulated at random, as if it had been molded in water. Roughly the shape of a diamond along a horizontal axis, it looked like a knife capable of splitting any enemy in two. It floated silently, no exhaust signatures or radiation spikes could be detected. It was completely hidden from any electronic scanner, and even with just a short distance between them any visual read was difficult. It appeared to swim in space, its outlines hard to distinguish.
The pilot made a gesture to Tide and proceeded to go through the docking checklist. Patting him on the shoulder, Tide departed the cockpit and gathered what little he could bring with him. Mostly essentials, he was told he would not be returning to the Heracles. His new residence for the foreseeable future was this new ship. He also would not be allowed any physical contact with another team member. They could only talk via shadownet links. He thought it strange how much money could be poured into building fourteen of these monsters and yet they still had to rely on such primitive forms of communication. He replayed his night with Adrianne, wondering if he should regret it or not. Then he thought it weird that he had to decide at all.
The two ships docked effortlessly. Tide moved to stand in front of the hatch and made one last check of his equipment. The door slid open on his side. The surface of the Dark Star appeared just as seamless and glassy as it had in the cockpit. He wanted to reach out and touch it, imagining it to be as smooth as his skin. There was a barely audible hiss, lines of white light appeared on the sides of the foreign ship. Its own hatch slid back revealing an unlit passage. The docking tunnel shuddered, and he was given the green light.
He stepped out, his stomach lurching at the sudden weightlessness. Gathering his wits about him, he threw his pack first and then pushed out. There was a burst of cold, the air thinned to a collection of tiny threads. The transfer was a matter of seconds but already his lungs ached. He stepped across the threshold and the hatch slid shut behind him. Another hiss as the space repressurized. “Welcome aboard, Commander Tide.”
The voice was everywhere. Both in his ears and outside him. Disoriented he momentarily lost his footing and stumbled. He felt nauseous. “Give it a minute as your system adjusts to new specifications.”
His eyes ached. He shut them but found he could still see. Images flashed across the backs of his eyelids, data lines streamed in numbers and letters. There was a buzzing at the back of his skull. It became overwhelming. He opened his eyes as he vomited.
“System reboot in 5…4…”
“Wait..”
“3...2…”
“I….”
“1.”
* * * * *
“You may wake.”
Tide’s eyes opened reflexively. It took a moment for his brain to catch up and the world coalesced into a dark space illuminated by orange lights that lined the metal floor. In the corner of his eye he saw words, lines of programming running a checklist on body functions. His body. He saw his heart rate spike as anxiety gripped him. “You can calm that, you know.”
The same voice from before, deep and weathered, spoke both within and without. Tide struggled to rise, noticing that he had been lying there without his clothing. His muscles ached and groaned as he repositioned himself into a sitting position, his legs dangling off the side of the bed. “Calm what?” he asked empty space.
“You can engage sympathetic and parasympathetic systems at will. Drug yourself, if you so desire.”
He watched his heart rate and respiration rate spike. “Who the fuck are you? What’d you do?”
A shadow moved at his peripheral vision. He turned quickly but no one was there. Just a bedside table. Another shadow and again he turned. A man sat next to him on the bed, startling Tide onto his feet. “What the fuck!?”
The man was old. Very old. His face had weathered time itself and come out the loser. His brow was overlarge, overbearing his small eyes. His nose appeared to have never stopped growing, it too was large and crooked. His lower half was covered in a thick beard, an untangled mess of wiry silver hair. His scalp was bare but covered in spots. The figure sat with thin, spindly hands in his lap. Dressed in a simple brown robe, he appeared like an old Crucean pauper. But there was an odd quality to him, as Tide looked on him he appeared darker than a normal person. Not darker. Transparent.
He looked up and Tide saw the blue-white data scrolling in his eyes. “You’re an adjutant?”
“No. But you may call me whatever you wish, if it makes the transition easier.”
His lips didn’t move when he spoke. The voice was piped in through speakers, but he also heard it ringing in the back of his mind. “What are you, then?”
“I am the Dark Star you command,” he said. A wry smile lit upon the man’s face. “And so much more.”
He rose and made a sweeping gesture, “Come. Let us get you dressed. We have a lot of ground to cover.”
A metal pole extended from the wall and upon it was a line of identical black-gold uniforms. “Not standard issue uniforms, no. But similar. They are better suited to your online augmentation.”
The man could even predict his thoughts. “I have a mainline to your mental cortex. I know what you are thinking before you do.
“And no. You cannot shut me off.”
There was a repeat of the disorienting pattern of peripheral shadow movement and the man was gone. Tide sighed and rubbed at his face with both hands. He felt overwhelmed. He wanted to scratch out his eyes and tear out the new words and numbers written on them. His muscles burned and grumbled as if he could run for miles. As if he was born with it, a calming program was initiated. He felt a shudder run down his spine, his vital signs dipped, and he breathed a heavy sigh out his nose.
He grabbed a uniform and quickly put it on. The material was pliable at first and fit well, but once it was on there was a tingling, numbing feeling that ran up his limbs and across his chest. “The suit will be all the clothing you require. It will become a second skin.”
“And if I don’t wanna wear clothing?”
“Those particular urges and biological imperatives will be taken care of by the suit.”
“You could’ve told me that before I put it on,” Tide grumbled as he looked himself over. The suit was practically skin tight, but had some weight to it. Instinctively he became aware of its basic functioning. His brain tickled as more information was uploaded directly. A very expensive piece of equipment.
“You are an expensive piece of equipment. And you never would have put it on if I told you what it did.”
Tide made up his mind that he already hated the old man.
“Meet me on the main deck. The way will be known to you.”
As Tide wondered at his words his feet had already begun walking. He stepped out of what was ostensibly his cabin and into a long corridor. The same dark orange lighting lined the floor and ceiling, illuminating just enough to see where he was going but not much more. “Your eyes have been augmented with CatEye software.”
As he spoke, Tide’s vision transformed in a way where he could now see the space defined, could imagine the hallway in its length but without anything getting actually brighter. But as quickly as it came on, he switched it back. He fooled around with the settings, coming to a comfortable medium. Throughout, his feet were moving him down the long passage, past more doors and stairs that led both up and down. The ship’s design was pulled from memory, as if he had always known how to navigate.
The Dark Star was laid out in such a way that it could operate with just one person, the space inside being fairly minimal. The various doors led to guest spaces, to armories and supply closets. The lower deck was mostly storage space. The upper decks were observatory and exploratory in nature and held little use beyond maintenance. The main deck, or bridge, lay at the opposite end of the ship, a mere two hundred yards from his cabin. “So what do I call you?” he spoke, feeling foolish for talking to air.
“You may call me whatever you wish.”
The shadows at his periphery moved with him.
“They never gave you a name?”
“I have a name. But you may call me whatever you wish.”
“What is it?” Tide asked, getting more exasperated with every exchange.
“Daedalus.”
Daedalus Project. The name was recalled effortlessly. His new memory, he decided, would take a lot of getting used to. A secret Company project designed to assemble as many assets as possible to discover some way to end the Unspeakable threat. There was a massive history lurking at the back of his mind, enough to fill several harddrives of just information as to what the project was and what it produced.
“Suffice it to say, we are the culmination of many, many, many years of research.”
“And a shitton of money.”
“That too.”
“So they named you after the project?”
“I am the project. This Dark Star, all fourteen of us, are the project. And you are the latest addition.”
TIde stepped onto the main deck and was instantly struck dumb. Back on the Heracles he had a window, but the view was abysmal. There were observation decks, but he never had the free time nor inclination to visit when he did. The Dark Stair’s main deck had on it a plain chair, similar to the captain’s, and was surrounded by an open glass bubble that gave an unimpeded view of space.
The blue-gold sun loomed impressively large, the scarred satellites spinning madly in their suicidal dance. Against the star was the vanguard fleet led by the Captain (name) as well as a new visitor. The shadow was all that was visible, but it dwarfed those others in sheer size. It appeared like a massive sword slicing a path through the star. It was longer than it was wide, great radiating wings sprouted from one third of its length as if they were the hilt. World-Eater Zeus. It could launch dozens of Heracles on its own.
On the glass of the bubble, an enlarged image of the Zeus appeared. He reached his hand out toward it to magnify the image. The Company insignia was emblazoned on its flank, a series of seven point stars surrounding an electrified trident. The well polished sides glittered with uncountable windows looking out. The massive propulsion system glowed with the intensity of a miniature star. Weapon emplacements and platforms bristled along its edges. It could easily command all the resources of a colony planet. And six more were coming.
“Easily the biggest waste of resources I have ever encountered. Meaningless in the Unspeaking war, all of its power is just for show against the Consortium.”
“You have an awful lot of opinions for an adjutant.”
Daedalus remained silent. Tide smiled as he imagined just what kind of nerve it was that he struck. He moved to the chair and slowly lowered himself into it. There was another electrical tingling that ran through his limbs and up his spine. He suddenly felt outside of himself, aware of so much more. He could sense the thirteen others in their own Dark Stars, could see their emotional turmoil before him in a range of hues. He could smell their bodies, feel them next to him. “You can engage and disengage at will with the Hive. Effective for combat, not effective for casual use.”
Tide withdrew from the cloud and managed to carve a temporary space in the reality around him. Daedalus was next to him, stroking his beard. “The Admiral will want to speak with you soon.”
Tide shrugged, unwilling to separate himself from the system.
“You call us Dark Stars, but that is merely a name for the larger portion of the project. Our actual brand name is Nemesis.”
“Does each Nemesis have a Daedalus?” Tide thought-asked.
“No. You are the only one.”
* * * * *
Tide found himself once more in the bubble. He had lost track of time. How many days had he spent hooked up to the pilot’s chair? Not needing a restroom fucked with his head, he decided. This time, though, he had been summoned. His body had moved without any input from the self, instead automatically rising refreshed from sleep and ready to go. Daedalus had been silent the past few sessions, had left to him to his own thoughts.
He leaned his head back, the last few connections tingling into place. Suddenly he was thrust out of his body and spinning through space. Zeus glittered, now joined with sister ships Juno and Neptune. The new pair had brought with them a sizable fleet of support and battle ready craft. There was a cloud of them buzzing around the massive World-Eaters, Tide remarked to himself, again, how much they all looked like toys. Were they all just pretending?
He had had a lot of time to himself. A lot of time to think.
There was a sharp pinging noise that echoed in his ears. His conscious self found itself rudely thrust back into the chair, his body feeling too much like cage. His vitals spiked as he struggled to remove himself, but his body was locked in place. He wanted to blink, but his eyelids would not respond.
A face appeared on the glass directly above him. It expanded until it was large enough to take up all of his range of vision. It was as opaque as the floor, the star had faded behind it. Olive skin, clear complexion, round eyes. Black hair with just the right amount of grey thrown in. No sign of age except for what was appropriate. Clean shaven. Sharp nose. High cheekbones. No fat, no smudges on his perfect teeth. The sight of the man unnerved Tide, something about it was not quite right.
“Welcome, Nemesis Pilots, the Godsborn!”
The man’s voice sang. His smile was just wide enough. His words soothed Tide, he felt warm and relaxed underneath those watchful eyes. “Yes, Godsborn! It has a perfect resonance to it, don’t you think?”
The image scaled back so that he could now see the man sitting in an elaborately crafted chair behind an equally elaborately carved desk. Images were carved into its surface, images of flower petals and fields, of running children and warm days. The man was dressed in a dark suit with every thread shimmering underneath a warm, soft light. He radiated confidence, trustworthiness. He was a man Tide could like, could get to know. He found himself agreeing, it did have a perfect resonance to it.
“Now, I am sure you have all been enjoying your new toys, but this is a serious matter!” He was all smiles. His voice was welcoming. “The Unspeakable have sent us a message, a glorious trap has been set before us. But we discovered it first and now we are the ones who will be laying their demise!”
He laughed and Tide laughed with him. “The Daedalus Project has been underway for a long time, the Company has invested a great deal of money into you and your eventual success. Soon, we believe we shall see a positive return on our investment. You fourteen Godsborn have been specially chosen, specially crafted for this sole purpose: the end of the War and the promise of Victory for the Company. The Conglomerate will hear of your exploits and tremble before our might!”
The man rose from his seat and clasped his hands behind his back. He stood before the massive window framed behind him of an open sea with chest puffed out and shoulders back, chin held high. “You should feel honored! It is not every day fourteen heroes find themselves with such purpose!” he made a fist as he spoke the last word and raised it upward. He brought it down on the desk next to him with a loud crash, “It is time we take the fight back to them! No longer shall our colonies be burned, our people living in fear!
“I, the Chancellor, have foreseen it. I command it. You are all an extension of the Gods’ Will, and Their Will works through me. So go forth, my eager fourteen! Go forth. Attack them at the heart of their empire and bring ruin to those that would harm us!”
The image flickered just briefly. Tide thought he heard a soft chuckle from behind him, a slight movement at the corner of his eye. The Chancellor who had looked so pristinely put together suddenly appeared different. He appeared as a blur, a false image, before reverting back to the board room overlooking the ocean. The Chancellor smiled with arms spread wide. Tide wanted to take his hand and give it a firm shake. He had never seen an image of the Chancellor before, and he was determined never to forget it now that he had. The image faded and Tide found himself returned to his self.
He rose from the chair, rubbing the ache in the back of his neck as he did so. He suddenly felt very tired. Drained. Something wasn’t right, but he didn’t know what. Diagnostic checks of his person returned nothing abnormal. “Daedalus?” he asked the air.
No response.
That seemed to be pretty typical recently. Not that Tide overly minded. It was nice to have his thoughts to himself and not have them constantly read and analyzed before he had a chance to give them voice.
He walked back to his cabin and crashed onto his bed. He fell asleep quickly.
* * * * *
Tide found himself running across a Crucean field, the grass up to his chest. It made his exposed arms and legs itch as they greedily absorbed his sweat. He looked behind him, the normally green grass turned brown from his touch. The path wound back for as far as he could see. He smiled to himself and continued onward. He ran as quick as he could manage, his legs barely touching the ground. His chest ached with the effort, his hair slick against his head. It had grown out, had become shaggy. Finally the field ended, he had reached the edge of the canyon. He looked down, his breaths deep and ragged. The waterfall at his feet poured out of the underground cave and tumble to a small pool before tumbling again. Hunter’s Drop.
He leaped over the edge, felt his stomach lurch, and he couldn’t help but scream. He laughed as he plummeted, felt the cold water splashing against his body. Then he hit the surface, dove under and had the air stolen from him. Tide reeled as if he had been punched in the gut. He found himself being pulled and suddenly he was falling again.
The river below came up to meet him. Too quickly. He had just enough time to catch another breath before it too was punched out of him. He was under for what felt like hours, spinning and tumbling as the water carried him away. And then suddenly he was at the surface. He gasped, choking as he did so. There was hard dirt under his feet so he knelt on all fours. Water dripped from his face, his shirt, his pants. He heard laughter.
Des was doubled over in the middle of a laughing fit. His eyes were squeezed shut, his hands clutching his sides as he rolled on the sandy bank. The sound of his best friend’s merriment at his expense brought a smile to his own face, and pretty soon after he found himself laughing along with Des. His side ached, probably bruised a few ribs on his descent.
Des recovered first and wiped the tears from his eyes before gesturing at Tide to come up to him. Tide did so, holding a hand to the side that hurt and wincing dramatically. “You big baby, maybe next time you’ll catch yourself before the second drop. Dumbass.”
The word “dumbass” caused Tide to smile. He stopped just in front of Des and looked the other boy up and down. His friend placed a hand over his eyes to shield himself from the glare as he looked up at Tide. “Not gonna lie, you scared me a little.”
Tide looked back toward the falls. The drop was not really that dangerous, typically there was enough time to readjust before jumping again. Maybe he had just misjudged his first jump. How many times had they been here and done the same thing without incident? Though that never stopped their parents from yelling. Tide looked upwards, closing his eyes and letting his wet face bask in the warmth. He smiled and removed his soaked shirt before sitting next to his friend. “Yeah that was pretty stupid. But so fuckin’ awesome.”
Des pushed his shoulder eliciting another wince from Tide, “Careful!”
Des rolled his eyes. Together the pair leaned back onto the sand, their heads touching. “Such an idiot.”
“You love it,” Tide shot back.
The two looked at one another. Tide stared into Des’ eyes, felt himself once again captivated by the boy. Man. Des was a man now. They both were. Field work had done them well. Tide’s gaze trailed down Des’ body, remarking on how he had filled out fairly well. “Still skinnier than I am though,” he said with a grin.
Des pushed Tide again, harder this time, and slid over so that they were no longer touching. “Oooh, did I hit a nerve?”
Des sat up and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t respond. Tide laid there, looking at Des’ back. “Oh come on, you can’t possibly still be that sensitive?!”
Des said nothing.
With a sigh Tide sat up and moved closer to Des. Just behind him, Tide placed his chin on Des’ shoulder. He whispered into his ear, “I like it that way, makes me feel powerful.”
He licked Des’ ear.
“I like it when you feel powerful,” he responded, turning so that he could focus one eye on Tide.
Tide leaned forward and their lips met in another kiss. They held it for several seconds before parting. Tide leaned backward, his hand rubbing up and down his friend’s back.
“Who’s that?”
With a snap the sunlight, the warmth, Des was gone. Tide disconnected himself from the pilot’s chair and leaned over so that he could vomit. His mind reeled from the rapid exit of the dreamspace. His body burned as it tried to come back to life. He raised his gaze so that he was looking out into space. Another Nemesis had orbited close to his. Its sleek shape stood out against the backdrop of stars and nothing, its outline highlighted for easier targeting. He didn’t need to magnify to see whose it was.
He looked down at the floor, his vomit had already disappeared into it. Ever efficient. He wanted to vomit again, but at this point the suit took over and cycled through some antiemetics. There was a shot of muscle relaxant and he suddenly felt weak. His head still ached and the buzz of a communication call wasn’t helping. “What?!” he barked.
The line was silent.
“What do you want?”
“Who was that?”
Her voice was tiny in the back of his head, but there was no mistaking that undercurrent of steel. “None of your business,” he responded, leaning back into the chair.
“You know I can easily find out.”
“Then why don’t you do that?”
“Because I’d rather you tell me, dumbass.”
Her use of the term only made his insides hurt. “Don’t call me that.”
Annoyed sigh. “Then what do you want to be called, Princess?”
“How ‘bout you fuck off?”
The buzzing became louder as Adrianne’s ship neared. Why couldn’t she be like the other twelve, he wondered. They never talked. They only kept to themselves. He suddenly regretted ever asking her back to his bunk. “No. I want to talk. Get your fat ass on the line. I want you to tell me who that was.”
“You should probably do as she says.”
Daedalus’ voice was not a welcome participant. He was becoming more and more scarce. Tide couldn’t remember the last time he had heard him speak. “Godsdammit, old man. Fine! Fine.”
Adrianne’s line had gone silent, but the buzzing was still present. He reconnected himself fully and found his mind once more slipping into the dreamspace. The transition was painful. As many things were on the Nemesis it seemed to Tide. His body felt like it was being burned away so that only his mind remained. Then his mind was torn apart and scattered into the wind. The sensations never registered on the suit, so no pain killers were administered. Tide felt as if was laid bare on a pyre back home. But as soon as it had come it was gone, washed over him. His sense of self was sent spinning, seeking some sort of foothold, an anchor. Usually the dreamspace had conjured up a setting before he came out of the transition. Other times it took a few seconds to adjust. Though he had no control over the specific destination, the ship somehow knew where he needed to be.
Meeting others was more difficult, it seemed. Adrianne and he had practically stumbled onto it. The other twelve refused to participate. They had gotten good at it, were able to transition between spaces with just a minor fluctuation. But this time was different. He was spinning longer than he should have been. He had begun to grow concerned, was ready to pull the cord.
But there she was. She sat on the edge of the roof. He stood there looking at her, his mind subconscious gathering the necessary information to orient himself. Atenon, Adrianne’s homecolony. They were on the roof of a tall tower that overlooked a small village. Bells rang beneath their feet as the yellow sun had begun to set on the far off horizon. People were returning to their homes and shutting the doors. A dark sheet of clouds hung low overhead, advancing toward the diminishing sunlight.
Adrianne looked different. Her head was totally shaved except for a line of hair that ran down the center. It was long and blonde and blew fiercely in the breeze. She wore a sleeveless top that showed off her athletic frame and the tattoos adorning her arms. More tattoos were written on the sides of her shaven scalp, letters and runes that were foreign to Tide. He declined the ability to have them translated. He knew they were private to her.
As he moved to sit next to her, he remarked on how much time they had spent with each other. There was no sense of time, not anymore, but he knew that they had spent a significant amount together since being transferred. They shared many a mental couplings, the physical results imagined perfectly without any realspace cleanup. This time was different. He had never visited her homecolony before though she had seen his many times.
He kicked her dangling foot with his but did not look at her. Instead he observed the crowd below. “Who was that?”
Her voice was softer now. He felt her hand scratching the back of his neck. “Why do you want to know?” he asked, still not looking at her. His heart pounded in his chest.
“I like to know my competition,” he could feel her smile.
“You’d lose.”
“I’m not so sure about that. I can put up a good fight.”
He turned his attention toward the setting sun. His fingers were fidgeting with one another. She removed her hand from playing with his hair and placed it in his to stop him. He felt her eyes on him. “His name is...was...Des.”
An image of a burning Crucea appeared in his memory. The dreamspace responded violently. Like a piece of paper, the space tore and suddenly there was an outburst of heat. He shut his eyes and held his breath, wrestling control with his subconscious. He felt Adrianne squeeze his hand and suddenly he was back. The sun had lowered, all that remained was a rainbow sky beset by indigo clouds. The streets were empty but the bells still rang. The wind had picked up, dust from the surrounding desert brought with it.
“I had just gotten the message before...you showed up.”
“Unspeakable?”
He shook his head. “Conglomerate.”
She grabbed his chin with her hand and turned his face so that they were looking at one another. Her storm grey eyes pierced his, he felt her searching through him, felt the subconscious routines opening themselves up to her. He stiffened at the intrusion but she held onto him. Part of the problem of sharing a dreamspace was that you were not master of the domain, and she had all the control. All his memories were hers.
And then he felt her own subconscious open, felt her memories flooding his own. Pictures, images, videos flashed before his eyes and suddenly he knew her. She released him, but still they stared at one another. The dust was getting thicker. He tensed, wondering what she would do.
She smiled. Her hand stroked his cheek. Leaning forward, their lips met for a moment. They parted and she leaned her forehead against his. A memory of her and another little girl flashed before him. They were giggling together, playing on a tattered rug on a dusty floor. They looked up, an older man entering the room. They sprung up as one and ran to him, hugging his legs as he leaned down to pat them on their backs and stroke their hair.
Another image. Older. They whispered to each other underneath the sheets of their bed. A candle was lit between them. Promises were made.
Another memory. Adrianne stood on the edge of the same tower. The bells were ringing and the crowd had gathered at the bottom. Dressed in black, they parted as a casket was brought out of the large wooden doors.
“My sister was a kind girl, she never deserved what happened to her.”
Tide opened his eyes, not realizing he had closed them, and kissed her brow. They held each other as the storm came in and the great tide of sand and earth swallowed the village whole.
* * * * *
He awoke to find his body sliding onto the pilot’s chair. His vision still blurry, he struggled to reconcile his movements with his newly conscious state. Tide did so only when he felt the obnoxious tingling sensation that arced over his cervical vertebrae as he was locked in. Chatter buzzed in his ear as he became the Nemesis. Voices that were tiny and quiet. He struggled to focus on them, his attention shifting uncontrollably as the bubble slowly rotated away from the empty space it was originally facing.
Names. He recognized names. Some of the voices were familiar, memories from somewhere else. There was a pressure that he felt behind him, a constant, radiating pulse as if someone was trying to knock on a door. He felt around his self the storm of Adrianne’s emotional turmoil, felt her thoughts of confusion mirror his own. He watched as the barren surface of the closest planet to Zed rushed past him.
The ship righted itself and stopped, the bubble facing toward the blue-gold star. The six World-Eaters were present, black silhouettes against the harsh light. The image magnified in the corner of his vision. He watched as they began to spin and disperse, their rotation slow and cumbersome. From their wings extended the shimmering solar sails, absorbing Zed’s energy through proximity. They glistened as feathers, waving in a solar wind.
“They are here,” Daedalus’ voice said from beside his ear.
“Holy shit,” Adrianne’s “voice” said in his other.
The other twelve were silent. Just as well, Tide found himself speechless. Quantum portals had opened as tiny points of light. They exploded outward then imploded just as suddenly as his mind struggled to understand the corruption of reality. It reconciled it by accepting that they had always been present. How had they missed them?
Thousands of ships in various shapes and designs orbited just outside Zed’s gravity well. Spheroid, oblong, rectangular. Each appeared without defined geometry, a mess of shapes both large and small. The Home Fleet in its entirety lit up with activity. Support craft appeared as lines of light buzzing around the larger parent craft. Capital warships scattered like startled birds moving to engage the newly present Unspeakable fleet.
There were enemy ships of such a size that they appeared to be converted asteroids. Their surface was stony, pockmarked with craters large enough to swallow many a ship. These larger craft were the first to react. They sped as if fired from a gun. Tide’s vision shifted, trajectories were plotted and simulations run. Neon lines were drawn in the dark to predict where the Unspeakable ships would appear. Too many count, the system failed and his vision returned to normal. Too many variables.
“We’ve gotta help them!” Adrianne’s voice shouted next to him.
“We must go. This is not our fight,” Daedalus responded.
Adrianne’s Nemesis began to move, Tide watched it for the first time. Its acceleration was quick, the hull appeared to shimmer and suddenly he lost his visual. He could still feel her, knew where she was as a concept, but her physical presence had vanished. “Leave her. We have our mission.”
“Godsborn.”
The voice shook his self, tremored within his chest and resonated in the dreamspace.
“You think you can hide….”
An image appeared on the bubble as he found himself back in his body. It consumed his attention, forced itself into his mind. “We are Speaking to the Company. We have broken our SIlence.”
The first vanguards had met, ships passing each other silently. The clouds merged together, craft becoming indistinguishable from the distance. The larger Unspeakable asteroids disappeared behind the far side of the star. The Zeus and Jupiter shifted to face perpendicular, presenting their broadsides to the new threat in anticipation of the eventual slingshot around the star.
The image was of a man’s body with the head of a horned animal. “What we once knew to be a bull,” Daedalus offered.
It sat on a golden throne draped in silver and green silk. Fire raged in its large eyes as it glared into Tide. “Godsborn!” it shouted. “Come and find us.”
“How does he know we’re here? Daedalus?!” Tide asked as the image faded.
The old man remained silent. “Tide, let’s go! We can’t just sit here. We have to help!” Adrianne pleaded.
Her voice was tiny. Distant. Memories of other battles with the Unspeakable were recalled. Nothing like this. Never like this. “We can’t leave them!” Tide shouted to no one.
There was no sense of acceleration as he left his self and followed Adrianne. He understood that the fleets were getting closer, but he could not feel the ship itself moving through space. The other twelve followed in pursuit, silent as the grave. Their small ragtag fleet came in hot and fast, faster than Tide thought possible for ships their size.
Flashes of light grew brighter as they neared, fighter craft swarmed as they engaged in dogfights. The Company fighters were small darts chasing after Unspeakable orbs. Much more agile and numerous, the enemy caught many allies in surprise and tore them apart with plasma fire. The Nemesis responded subconsciously. Data packets were beamed toward enemy fighters and capital ships alike. They dove into the fray, speeding through the cloud in a blur.
He felt the cold fingers of enemy probes at his electrical defenses. Software packages went online to set up firewalls from the initial salvos. The space between the capital ships was silent as they traded invisible blows, searching for a hole to hack through. Tide’s mind worked furiously in tandem with the software, fed off one another as they processed and defended against the attacks.
A hole was opened on one Unspeakable closest to him. The viruses entered, wreaking havoc on the system from the inside. He smiled. The other thirteen ships followed suit, encircling the warship. There was confirmation that shields were lowered. His Nemesis fired as did they all. Space was suddenly alight as more defenses were penetrated. Initial salvos were exchanged. “We’ve got company!” Adrianne shouted.
Unspeakable orbs had targeted them. Already he could feel their encroaching hands. The warship vented air and belched fire from the hole opened on its hull. Tide had an idea. He punched it, his ship shooting forward. It pierced through the gaping wound, tearing through the bulkheads. It penetrated the other side, his flesh prickling as if burning. The ship behind him burst apart, parts exploding in brilliant fireballs.
Adrianne followed as they left the battle only to turn back around. Tide watched as the battle developed in bursts. Once one virus got in, it was deleted. During that window, shots were exchanged. Then silence. Friend and foe danced about one another in staccato action. “We must go!” Daedalus repeated.
Tide was ready to ignore him, to dive back in. He suddenly felt a sharp pain. Frantically he scanned the field and caught sight of a slowly dying fireball. One Nemesis had failed to escape, a cloud of orbs still attached to parts of its hull, tearing it apart both mechanically and chemically. The line was alive with shouts from the Home Fleet, orders and unauthorized admissions of awe and fear were exchanged back and forth.
The handful of asteroid ships that had disappeared previously reappeared. What World-Eaters and support weren’t already engaged were ready. Tide watched helplessly as they opened fire with long range weaponry. Beams of energy met the oncoming assault but only managed to chip away at the surface or run large rivulets of melted stone across their “bows”. The asteroids sped up. “Oh shit,” Adrianne whispered.
They collided with the World-Eaters. They punched burning holes through the solar sails and slammed into their sides. Tide watched helplessly as they blossomed fiercely into parts and flame. Their death was brighter than the star itself. He averted his eyes even as the bubble’s glass became opaque. Screams were heard on the communication unit only to be cut short. He felt the ship warm temporarily from expended energy.
When he could look again, it appeared as if a hole had been carved in the swarm. Glittering, glowing, radioactive wreckage floated where thousands of ships had been, the survivors pausing momentarily to take account of losses. The Unspeakables moved first, swiftly diving into the wreckage cloud and tearing apart any remaining survivors. Crippled World-Eaters were fallen upon before the main Fleet could react. “It is time to go. They know we are here now. They will hunt us down.”
Already a small detachment had separated, ignoring plasma fire to head in their direction. How many friends were caught in that blast, helpless to do anything to stop it? He had spent too much time with them to turn back now. His emotional aura mixed with Adrianne’s and together they were strengthened in their resolve. He felt himself bristle, fed his rage into the Nemesis.
But it did not react.
Instead it began to turn away.
“Wait...what’s going on?! Daedalus! Stop!”
“We must go.”
“I can’t, we can do something!”
The bubble went black again.
“This is not your fight, you are needed elsewhere.”
Space warped itself around him, time bent inward and outward in rapid fibrillation. He was always here, caught between dimensions.
* * * * *
“You can take the suit off, if you so desire.”
Daedalus refused to show himself as Tide stepped into his cabin. Maybe it was for the better, Tide thought as he slammed his fist into the metal door once it had closed. Pain shot up his arm and he cried out clutching his fingers. Pain killers were pumped into his bloodstream even as he fumbled his way out of the suit. He tore at it, pulled at every bit of it to try and remove it quicker. It peeled off of him like skin, his pores screaming with the effort. He cried out again, crumpling to his knees with the suit only at the level of his waist.
“Go slow. It will hurt less.”
“Fuck you,” Tide growled through clenched teeth and closed eyes.
Despite his hatred of the adjutant, he took his advice and went slower. The rest came off like water, and finally he was able to step out of it. His skin looked sickly in the orange lighting, felt both clammy and dry. Leaving the suit on the floor, he stepped into the adjoining bathroom. The lighting was better, brighter. He could see himself in the mirror.
He had lost weight. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks gaunt. Muscles appeared more toned just through sheer dehydration. Bruises marked his sides and his legs, Tide having no clue as to how they got there. Shutting his eyes, he leaned over the sink and took in several deep breaths. The shower behind him turned on with a wave of his hand. He looked up again, his eyes were bloodshot.
There was a flicker of movement but he was too tired to see if Daedalus had joined him in a more physical form. Tide turned, stood watching as the water hit the glass walls and dripped down toward the drain. He chewed on his lower lip. He wanted to be angry, wanted to rage and snarl, but nothing came. They had beaten it out of him. Ever the calm soldier.
He opened the door. More movement. He turned his head but no one was there. “Daedalus?”
No response.
He stepped in and closed the door. The warm water was immediately comforting. He let it splash against his chest, felt it dribbling down his legs. His body sang. Dipping his head underneath the shower head he gasped involuntarily. Years were wiped away. He drank greedily, felt refreshed. “Mind if I join you?”
His neck clicked with the speed at which his head turned. He stumbled backward against the cold wall of the bulkhead. The steam cleared just enough to reveal Des’ emerald gaze peering at Tide from the open door. He stepped in, his smile beaming. “What’s going on? Daedalus?!”
Was he in the dreamspace? No, he was in his room.
Des hand came up to cup his cheek. “What’s wrong, you look scared. Who’s Daedalus?”
He leaned in for a kiss, but Tide stopped him with a hand on his bare chest. “You’re not real.”
Des stepped back, wry smile ever present. “What the fuck you smokin’? Of course I’m real. Can a ghost do this?”
He grabbed Tide’s hand and pulled him close. He leaned up and kissed Tide softly before wrapping his arms around him. Des placed his head against Tide’s chest. “I’ve missed you.”
Still in shock, Tide grabbed Des’ head and forced it up so that he could examine it. There were yellow flecks in his eyes, yellow stains in his hair. He smelled like a mixture of sulfur and lavender. His natural scent of sweat and skin lay just underneath. He smiled. “How did you survive?” Tide whispered.
“I have my ways.”
They kissed for longer, their tongues meeting in a soft dance. Tide leaned back into the water, letting it baptise both of them. When they parted, Tide felt a growing pain in his chest. A quiet longing to do it again. They stood holding each other for what felt like hours. Tide refused to let him go.
“Why did you leave?” Des asked, his voice strained.
“You know I had no choice.”
“No! You had one!”
Tide opened his eyes and looked at Des, watched as the yellow stains grew until his entire scalp was covered in frayed, chalky hair. It crackled as he ran his hand through it. “You left me!” Des screamed, pushing Tide back.
His eyes had become the color of gold. His face was contorted into a snarl as his skin cracked. “Look at me, you did this. You left me to die while you went on to fuck everyone in the Company.”
Tide watched as Des was transformed into a broken image. He blinked.
Des was gone.
He gasped for air, hands clutching at his throat as it was filled with the fine silicate dust of the Crucean mines. “Stop,” he choked weakly. “Stop. I’m sorry...I’m sorry.”
His fingers became blue as he dry heaved.
“Wake up.”
Tide shot awake, coughing and hacking. He spit onto the floor.
Daedalus sat on his bedside, hands folded in his lap. Tide collapsed on his hands and knees, tearing at the suit’s collar as he struggled to breathe. “Relax,” Daedalus commanded.
As if the gates were opened, Tide’s lungs filled with air. Gasping, Tide touched his forehead to the cold floor. “I do not have much time.”
There was a scream. “Wait!” Daedalus shouted.
But Tide had already left his cabin. The corridor stretched out before him, the lights having gone from orange to red. The scream was repeated. It was Adrianne’s. Breaking into a sprint, Tide ran down the narrow corridor until he reached a crossroads. One stair led up, the other led down. There was a nagging pull at the back of his mind, a sensation that said up was incorrect.
He went down. Skipping three steps at a time, he descended further than he had ever previously gone. There was a humming noise emanating from the bowels of the ship, a rhythmic pulse layered on top of it. The sound of water being pushed under high pressure only when the pulse stopped. The screaming repeated.
He came to the bottom. He rounded a corner. Adrianne was sitting on the floor, a body in her lap. Her head was thrown back, her eyes shut and mouth opened as she rocked back and forth. Above her the Nemesis reactor pulsed. It sang with a dull roar, thick fluid rushed away from it with every beat. She cried out, tears streaming down her face.
“Adrianne?” Tide called out.
She didn’t turn, only sobbed. She brought the body closer to her, clutching it tightly to her chest. Tide tentatively took a step. “Why?!” she cried.
He rushed forward and put his arms around her. Adrianne laid her head against his shoulder, her mouth still open in silence. Tide looked down, the body she held draped in black cloth. “I command it.”
The voice filled the room, was as deep as the reactor’s song. Tide turned. An ancient man stood where he had come clutching an old, gnarled cane. Bent, he peered at them with glowing red eyes. “Godsborn!” he spat. “Mine! You were all mine!”
The old man flickered. Once more a smiling gentleman with perfect teeth and perfect nose. With eyes that glowed fiery red. He reverted. Fluctuated as if he could not decide. He shuffled forward, his shadow looming larger behind him. “That child is mine!” he spoke, raising a skeletal finger and pointing it at Adrianne.
Her eyes widened and she screamed again. “You can’t take her! She’s my daughter!”
“My daughter.”
The old man leaped forward, faster than Tide thought possible. Neither he nor Adrianne could stop him as he snatched the child from Adrianne’s arms and held it before him. Still draped in black, he triumphantly shook it before the pair. “I made you. All that you make is mine!”
He cackled before his jaw opened. He lifted the child above his head and consumed it. Adrianne attempted to protest but her voice was hoarse and weak. She leapt to her feet to rush the old man. Quicker than Tide could follow, he lashed out with his cane and struck Adrianne across the face. She collapsed in a heap, placing a hand against her temple to stop the bleeding. “I made you. I know you.”
The world swam. It collapsed inward and separated into parts. Images fluttered like dancing flies across still ponds. Tide reached out to grab a passing dreamscape. It melted the moment it touched his hands, faded into the thin oblivion. Des appeared before him as apparition. He waltzed through space and laid intricate lines that became moving memories. They were his memories.
Tide felt lost. Frantically he traced the lines searching for some measure of solid ground. He shouted into dark space and received no answer but his own echo. He could not feel Adrianne’s emotional cloud, sensed no other presence than his own.
Standing in an empty desert, Tide gazed upward at the moon that hung low in the sky. The wind was warm and suffocating as it blew toward him in waves. Each wave a memory of exploding World-Eaters and lost friends. It caught the ash and swirled it about Tide in a cyclone. Out of the swirling wall came faces that snarled and bit. Their mouths moved to speak silent words.
He was back on Crucea, back in the waist high fields. The twin moons were just beginning their final descent. The sun sent a few tentative rays before announcing its presence. Without a cloud in the sky Tide could see the constellations peering back at him.
“It is a good morning, is it not?” Daedalus said as he placed a strong hand on Tide’s shoulder.
Tide turned to look at the old man who appeared whole and complete, who’s ancient eyes smiled warmly at him. “Come with me,” he said, stepping in front of Tide.
Together they waded through the grass, staining it violet as they did so. Both said nothing, instead focusing on their journey. Daedalus moved with a confidence in his step that was surprising for his advanced years. They walked for what felt like hours to Tide, but the moons nor the sun ever moved. The planet had stopped and so had time.
Daedalus stopped once they had cleared the field and had come to the treeline of a forest. He blew air out his mouth like he was slowly deflating as he sat on a large stone. “Come. Sit.”
Tide sat next to him on the ground and hung his head between his knees. He had not been aware of how tired he had become. Every muscle ached, his eyes felt heavy, and his mind tingled with numbness. “What’s happening?” he asked softly.
“We have come between.”
“That means nothing to me.”
Daedalus chuckled, “To truly explain it to you would take eternity. Suffice it to say that I have constructed a means with which to house your conscious thoughts to minimize trauma.”
“You call this ‘minimizing trauma’?”
Tide raised his head to look up at the old man. Daedalus instead looked out at the way they had come. “Sacrifices.”
“What do you know of sacrifices? What the fuck does a computer program know about anything?”
A smile crept on Daedalus’ face. “I know more than you. Is that not what matters?”
Frustrated, Tide pushed himself back onto his face and turned toward the forest. Thick with trees and low hanging branches, any trekking through it would prove tedious and tiring. Dead faces lurked in the forest’s shadows. Broken bodies darted from tree to tree, mere glimpses of flashing light. In the distance someone screamed.
“I want out.”
“There is no leaving. Not yet. You have yet a task to perform.”
“How do you know what I need to do?”
“They need heroes. They need stories. Unfortunately such stories rarely have happy endings.”
“How do you know all this, how do you know how this will end?” Tide looked back at Daedalus, his words filled with barely contained anger.
“I had a son once…”
“You’re a fucking AI. You have no son.”
Daedalus looked toward the light of the sun dancing on the horizon. Another scream broke their silence, followed by another. “I warned him, but he did not listen.”
Tide wanted to leave, wanted to run. Staying here felt wrong. His stomach churned. Though the forest looked no more appealing, staying here would prove Daedalus right. “I’ll be your hero, but fuck if I’ll die here.”
There was a burst of light from above. For a brief moment the sky was on fire. A bolt of plasma fire rocketed from orbit. It smashed into a distant mountain side causing an eruption of flame and molten rock. A terrifying clap shook the earth beneath their feet and made Tide’s ears ring. A suffocating blast of air threatened to knock him from his feet. Another plasma missile followed. And another. The sky was soon raining fire.
“I have made many mistakes,” Daedalus said, his voice strong in Tide’s head. “You are not one of them.”
Tide ran into the forest. He leapt over fallen branches, darted between trees. Heat followed him, seared the back of his neck. There was a constant rolling thunder. The air itself had become too warm. Faces without eyes watched him as he passed, they screamed with broken jaws to stop. He didn’t listen. He felt their shattered limbs clawing at his clothes, felt them groping him and clinging to him. The forest was ablaze.
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Hwem
Junior Scribe
Glad to be here.
Posts: 50 
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Post by Hwem on Mar 31, 2015 13:18:48 GMT -5
Taking Credit
Matthew ‘Bull’ Taurus is the manager of one of five design departments in the Osten Brothers Cosmetics Corporation. His reputation for creating marketable products is legendary. His year-end-bonuses rival the yearly salaries of the engineers and chemists that work for him. His work record has drawn a lot of attention to him and attracted many offers of promotion up the corporate ladder; however, he always refuses to leave his department. The corporate heads see this as a dedication to his trade and praise his work ethic.
His nick name, Bull, is a combination of the zodiacal reference to his last name and his reputation in high school football for charging through and trampling his opponents. The latter being the subject of countless stories that he never tires of telling whilst leaning over the cubical walls of his subordinates. Staying late to finish one’s work is common in his department in order to make up time that was lost feigning interest in these tales of heroism or worse, listening to him wax on indefinitely about the latest televised football games as if the fate of the world depended upon their outcomes.
I have worked for him for a little over three years now and, surprisingly, I have worked here longer than any other technical professional in the department. The last person in the department released from employment, a softer term for ‘fired’, was Robert Lisser. He was a very capable chemist that had been working here a couple of years before I started.
Six months before his termination, Robert had solved a chemistry problem with a new line of mascara called Midnight Glow. With a simple formulation alteration he had solved the problem of making it water resistant without toxic chemicals. This problem had eluded upper level managers and top level chemists for so long that they had given up on it and were ready to cancel the product line. Because of his hard work and brilliance, teenage girls can now safely enjoy high drama in full make-up without blackened tear trails tracking down their cheeks. The Midnight Glow line became an instant sensation and sales exploded on the market.
Robert was fired for viewing porn from his work computer. Bull made sure that reams of IT records documenting the ‘offensive’ websites he visited were presented to the human resources department. The last time I saw Robert, he walked past my cubicle carrying a cardboard box with the small cactus from his desk overturned on top of a folded periodic table of elements. A few weeks after his termination, the kudos came rolling in for the monumental success of Midnight Glow. With Robert gone, Bull took full credit for the formulation and soaked up the praise like a parched sponge in a rain storm.
After Robert’s termination I discreetly tried to find his experimental data and lab diary. What I discovered was that his office had been stripped clean of all documents before the end of his last day. When I tried to find archives of his data, I discovered an impenetrable maze of corporate bureaucracy. I followed circular paths where I needed a form to request a form and then several forms later I was requesting the form I started with. Computer files were encrypted and protected by passwords and managerial permissions that required more forms so that I ended up back on the form loop without any progress.
All this effort got me nowhere, except that it whetted my curiosity about Jan Blount, the engineer whose cubicle I took over when I was hired. Secretaries and clerks seem to have longer employment terms than professionals in this department, often spanning decades. I decide to talk to them about Jan. I discover that Jan had also been terminated for ‘being a pervert’ as one secretary whispers to me with the enthusiasm of divulging a treasured bit of gossip. However, after several more encounters with the more permanent departmental personnel, I discover a data entry clerk, named Mitch Wills, who had gone out on a couple of dates with Jan during her employment here.
“We went out to lunch together and Jan was so excited to tell me about her day,” Mitch discloses to me. “She told me that her future at Osten Brothers was guaranteed. That day she had finished an application tool for glue-on nails. According to her it was the Holy Grail of press on nail technology.”
“She showed it to you? You saw it?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t know anything about that stuff. She was talking angles and math,” he looks down at the data in front of his computer and then back at me with a slight annoyance. “I have to get back to this. But it must not have been as big a deal as she made of it, they fired her a few weeks later.”
That night, after speaking with Mitch, I visit a chain drug store and find the Osten Brothers Nail Application Tool prominently on display on shelves at the front of the store. I reach past a couple of young women, who are checking their finger sizes to pick the right tool, and take one to the checkout counter.
The next morning I walk straight to Bull’s office and, after knocking and being invited in, show him my newly acquired nail application tool. “Good job,” I say, dropping the tool on his desk. “Word has it that this was your brain child.”
He nods with a self-satisfied smirk as he leans back in his leather desk chair. “Thanks Teresa, but I’m only as good as my last tackle and I’ve had plenty since then.”
“I bet you got a hefty bonus for this one,” I manage not to show my disgust as he, without remorse or conscience, takes full credit for Jan’s invention.
“Bonus, schmonus. It’s about the team. The whole damn department can be proud of that,” he continues as he does quarter swivels in his lavish, leather throne.
“Well, keep up the great work Bull,” I quip as I continue to feign admiration.
“Hey Teresa, come back for a minute,” he calls from his chair. “I’m glad you stopped by this morning. What are you working on?”
“Nothing big. I’m still looking for a new polymer vendor.”
“Close the door. Take a look at this,” he tosses a folder on his desk in front of me. “That’s Sunny Shine Lip Gloss.”
I take the folder and sit down in one of the chairs across the desk from Bull. “I’m not familiar with it, what is it?”
“New lip gloss, obviously, but it is also supposed to offer UV protection,” he says. “However, when the UV protection is increased the shine goes away. Top brass cancelled it when nobody could solve the problem.”
“Ok, I’ll take a look at it,” I say as I put the folder back on his desk. “Email me the formulation and lab tests and any test formulas that have already been tried.”
Bull tosses the folder back to me. “It’s all right there. Just take the folder and let me know if you have any ideas.”
“It would be nice to have a meeting with the lab techs and chemists that have already worked on this,” I offer. “How about I schedule a meeting room for Wednesday morning?”
“They’ve been perplexed by this problem for over a year now. You really want the input from a bunch of failures? Now go put your eyes on this. You are very creative, more so than any of them. Come see me after you have had a bit of time to think about it,” he says with a smile. “I requested you for my department, you know, because you’re smart, smarter than most. Oh yeah ….” he says almost as an afterthought. “… keep this just between me and you. Remember, upper management cancelled this project so they would be displeased if they thought you were wasting company resources working on it. Both our heads would be on the chopping block.”
As I walk to my cubicle, I start thinking, “He is drawing me in to his lies. No talking to others about the project and no conferences. He compliments me and then uses those stupid, lame compliments to get me to report only to him. For all their smarts, Robert and Jan, and probably others whom I don’t even know about, have been duped by this. Without a record of their achievements, their work is surrendered to Bull so that he may claim full ownership of it. Even if they had not been fired, they would have only sounded like whiners had they tried to demand credit for their ideas. It would have been their word against the most honored member of middle management, Bull Taurus.
The next day I go to the office of Andrew Minos, the manager in charge of our IT department. “Excuse me Mr. Minos,” I peck on the side of his open office door.
Andrew looks up from his computer screen. “Yes?”
“Do you have a minute?” I enquire. “I was wondering if you could help me with a little email problem.”
“I’m sorry; I don’t think we have met.” A smile spreads across his face as he removes his glasses and almost subconsciously smoothes his thinning hair.
“I’m Teresa Aegeus, I work in product design. Matt Taurus is my supervisor.” I close the door behind me as I enter his office. “I have a special request.” For the next 30 minutes I tell him what I suspect is going on in my department.
“So you want me to dig through our computer network and try to assemble proof of what you suspect?” he asks.
“No,” I shake my head. “Robert and Jan, and who knows how many others, are gone. There would be nobody to support any paper evidence we found. However, I do not want to be the next victim and I want Matt exposed when he tries to make me one.” I put the Sunny Shine Lip Gloss folder on Andrew’s desk. “Yesterday, Matt gave me this project with specific instructions to keep all progress and information related to it just between the two of us. I hope you realize the huge risk I am taking by showing this to you.”
He flips through the folder without really taking time to look at it. I suspect that he is just using the folder to occupy his hands while he thinks. After a moment he looks up at me. “I don’t really know Matt other than the awards he gets each year at the Award Supper and his acceptance speeches with football analogies. He is a highly respected manager and my peer, so if I work against him it will look like petty jealously. This sounds like career suicide.”
“You don’t have to confront Matt. I just need a way to track my correspondence with him. I need a paper trail that will outline my efforts and expose his deception. I know that, as a manager, he has access to all my email and I suspect that he will not accept any email from me that includes a carbon copy to another party. Is there anything you can do to help me?”
“There is,” he replies. “I can put an invisible trace on every email that you address to Matt and on emails that he addresses to you. All correspondence between the two of you will be stored chronologically in its own folder that only I have access to. But I would be taking a big career risk by making such an offer.” he pauses and watches me for a minute. “I will do this under one condition only. You agree to have dinner with me when this is all over.”
“You are going to blackmail me for a date?” I look at him without concealing my disgust. “That condition, as you call it, would be very dangerous for you if I were to report it to HR.”
“Well, I suppose we are done then,” he says with disappointment in his voice. “Good luck finding your way around Matt.”
I stand up to leave. He hands me the folder but as I take it from him I say, “One dinner. Let me know when you have the trace on my email.”
The next day I find a sticky note on my computer keyboard from Andrew that says ‘done’. I immediately send an email to Bull telling him how much easier it would be to review the existing data if it were electronic. He responds by emailing me the Sunny Shine files on an attachment. The next email I send I clarify what I am supposed to do with the Sunny Shine project and I deliberately describe the wrong problem so that Bull has to very clearly outline what it is he is asking me to do.
For the next three months I outline every step I take in emails with Bull. If his response is too vague, I send another email asking him to clarify, which he always does. I make a breakthrough in the problem when I calculate that increasing the reaction temperature will prevent the shine polymers from breaking apart and losing their luster. When I tell Bull this, I can practically taste the excitement in his emails, it even prompts him to lower his guard and start cheering me on.
After several more weeks of experimenting with the formulation, I find the optimum temperature for the reaction. Sunny Shine Lip Gloss is now ready for presentation. I make a very detailed lab report on the success and of my experimentation and the results. I even include a detailed formulation that is practically production floor ready. All of this I put into a folder and email to Bull. One tidy little package that all he has to do is replace my name with his. I press the send button and then wait for the show to begin.
A week later, as if on cue, Bull is invited to a meeting with a group of corporate vice presidents where he is praised for his success with the new Sunny Shine Lip Gloss product. When he returns from the meeting he is all smiles and laughter. The next day, when I come to work, I discover that my email archives have been erased. Bull calls, as I am starting my morning routine, and asks me to come to his office. Before leaving my cubicle, I send a short email off to Andrew. “Cover me, I’m going in.”
The HR manager is already in Bull’s office when I arrive. The meeting starts with Bull giving me a notification of employment termination. It is all filled out and all I have to do is sign at the bottom. I ask why I am being fired and, during the next hour or so, they present me with documents ranging from my mediocre performance evaluation to computer files proving that I have violated the company’s policies on internet use. I sign the paper. Bull calls security to escort me off the property.
Security arrives at Bull’s office accompanied by Andrew and the plant manager, Donald Sword. Mr. Sword asks all of us to accompany him to one of the conference rooms. Andrew presents the three months of correspondence between Bull and me about the Sunny Shine project. After a long discussion, my notification of employment termination is torn up and security escorts Bull off the property.
Andrew and I celebrate over dinner at a local restaurant. We have a delightful time together and everything is perfect except that the table cloth is black.
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Also, I feel like we're going to get a lot of questions about this round. So for my two matches:
