Skies Over Tomorrow: Constellation (5 page)

BOOK: Skies Over Tomorrow: Constellation
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I descended the elongated steps of the main aisle, and realized they were not alone. I cursed myself for being foolish. As I looked into the dark, my eyes made the most of the light and counted my enemy's numbers. I felt regret; I should have listened to Marc. At the end of the aisle, taking The Floor, I stood with the two podiums on either side of me, looking to its luxuriant carpet and noting the Federation emblem, and how detailed and identical it was to the etching on the glass doors, though it was woven in vibrant colors.

“Hello, Naomi,” Carmichael said, leaning forward from the shadows.

I moved to take an aisle seat behind the left podium, though not directly behind it, as I had an unobstructed view of my creator and his guardians before me. Crossing my legs, I leaned back. It felt good to be off my feet.

“Well, at least be polite and properly greet your father,” he said.

I had counted eight gendarmes: four to my left, four to my right, all to my rear, hiding behind a seat.

“Come now, Naomi, at least say something.”

I had to escape even though my body was weary.

“I've been waiting for you,” he said.

I removed my hood and looked to the four GDI agents that stood in front of Carmichael. Unlike their brute counterparts of the Galactic Federation of Enforcers in hiding behind me, they were secular and secretive. They were the ones that made us look like terrorists. I recognized one of them; Miller was her last name. She was responsible for the deaths of a number of class B humans. As I looked her over, I sensed something from her.

“Naomi, you look as beautiful as ever,” said Carmichael. “I do believe you have your grandmother's eyes.”

“Though you've made me in the image of your daughter, I am not her. I've had just about enough of your twisted world, and of acting the role of your daughter. Let's end this charade once and for all. We both know that I do not have a grandmother.”

“Why do you dishearten me so? I am your father.”

“Don't be delusional. Your daughter is dead, and you must come to terms with her untimely end. Recognize and accept that being born in the name of science and progress, I have no parents. If there were one person I could call a parent, she is dead now, thanks to you, but then a god has that kind of power.”

“You're wrong. I am just a man,” he said. “Please, withhold your abrasive tongue until you know the truth about the woman that bore you.” He paused, and then said, “Tell me—tell me what you want me to do. What can I do to make things right for you?”

I rushed to my feet, incensed.

“No!” he said, rising from his chair just as fast as I stood to wave off the pawns in the shadows.

I was angered by his conceitedness and the fact he patronized me. In the light of infuriation, I looked over my right shoulder and saw red beams streaming the darkness to me. Looking over the other shoulder, there were more. They were ready. Even the GDI had their weapons in hand.

“Naomi, please,” said Carmichael.

The court was quiet as I sat back down.

“Good, that's good,” he said, as he, too, resumed sitting.

“I will kill you.”

“Please, Naomi, don't talk like that. It only gives the Enforcers reason to neutralize you.”

Neutralize—such a cold, pretty word; I smiled.

“There will be an end to the mistake I made,” he then said. “When all class B humans are no longer. You, on the other hand, I want to spare. You are all the family I have left.”

“You are insane.”

“The choice is yours: Be my daughter or die, along with the rest of your kind.”

“I will not be kept as some pet, so my only choice is to see an end to you and give all class B humans some sense of justice.”

“Will killing me give you justice?” he said, rising to his feet as his voice resounded about the court. “If you really believe that, then you are truly a fool. Justice in killing me will be a false peace, some fantastic dream you can only hope to come true.”

“We've never had peace, so what does that matter? I only hope to stop the fear you poison people with—fear that has only led to resentment and somehow justifies the persecution of class B humans. You should be the one on public trial. It is you, Councilor Carmichael, who sealed the fate of Homo sapiens when you created us.”

“I will not concede to that!” he said.

“When you look at us, you know that you are a dying species.”

“My only intention for creating your kind was for the greater good of the Federation.”

“Your only intention was to play God,” I said. “However, you did not give any thought to consequences of producing human beings for labor. Now, a moral dilemma has been imposed on the conscience of humanity, one in which you have decided to ignore by having us wiped out, as though we never existed.”

“I cannot let my mistake unseat what is important, which is this institution that is the Galactic Federation of Mars,” he said, as he moved down and from around the bench. “The Federation is what holds humanity together and keeps order throughout the known universe. You must understand people are comfortable. They treasure the peace and prosperity that has permeated to every level of society, as provided by the Federation.” As Carmichael stepped onto The Floor, he continued, “It is preferred that people be complacent than for them to deal with issues of any kind. That is why the High Council exists. We take the worry from the people, and so long as they do not have to be concerned with matters that can be divisive or promote dissenters, the Federation is at peace. Disorder, such as the plight of class B humans, rear up only to disturb the psyche of humanity, which cannot be allowed. Nothing can be allowed to threaten centuries of progress—not even my blinding arrogance that created you and your kind.”

“What's done is done, so understand this,” I said. “Because class B humans suffer, the peace you so treasure will be stolen.”

“I've heard enough of your fundamentalist imprudence, Naomi. I've always regarded you as a normal human being, and what have I gotten in return? Extremist attitude. I've called you my daughter because I wanted very much to see you as a citizen of the Federation, but this crusade of yours has only warranted your demise. What do you think you are to come here and believe you can make a difference and change things, and by killing me?”

“Human.”

“No,” he said as he stood before me, using the podium to separate us. Leaning on it, he looked down at me and said in a harsh tone, “You are simply a tool.”

I frowned at those words, and said, “I am the mother of future generations that will replace you.”

“That's a powerful statement, Naomi.”

“Powerful words precede powerful actions.”

He looked at me; I saw fear settling on his face as he backed away, and as I lowered my head and closed my eyes, he called out: “Shoot her!”

Time was my first thought before rapid gunfire erupted in the assembly hall and neon-green tracer rounds streaked toward me. The projectiles slowed and stopped at my will. Wind was my second thought, and a cool breeze whirled around me. It expanded and hardened. I was safe, and called for time to release its grip on the bullets. The invisible wall sparked under the gunfire, as it bent the course of the rounds. There were cries of agony before me. Darkness was my last thought, and the sounds of death hollered from my rear, as the shadows morphed into a living, shapeless organism and consumed and snapped and ripped the bones and flesh of the eight gendarmes. Then, just as quickly, the shadows returned to a state of stillness, and the protective barrier withered away, and a warm stench that filled the air wafted over me.

When I opened my eyes and looked up, the four GDI agents lay wounded—if not dead—at Carmichael's feet; their blood saturated the rusty beige carpet and Federation emblem. The Enforcers in hiding behind me were, in effect, neutralized. The horrific look on Carmichael's face brought a strange sense of satisfaction to me, much greater than what could have been expected from him being no longer.

“This is why you are a threat,” he said.

My breathing was heavy.

“You win.”

I finally understood their fear.

“What will you do now? I doubt very much you have the strength to kill me.”

Slow to rise from the seat, with the onset of a dizzy spell, I stood with my legs apart to keep my balance. Marc came to mind, and I knew then he was right all along, as I looked at Carmichael and said, “There is a time for everything.”

“What are you waiting for?” he said.

“Another time, Carmichael.” I turned my back to him.

“Where are you going? You're weak and trapped.”

I should have listened to Marc. How stupid of me.

“I created you! I will see you destroyed!” he said as his words reverberated back and forth about the court.

I continued up the main aisle to the glass doors. At least one bullet should have hit him. At least one. Before I reached the etched doors, I faded from the congressional hall.

I did not go far, just to the roof. Activity in the heliport was minimal, but it would not be too long before they searched and secured the small-scale airport. I stood at the end of the landing platform, a meter from the edge of the building, looking over the placidity of Sapphire.

What had I done? I was still amazed by what transpired; it was too much power. Class B humans could topple the Federation with ease, but we have chosen to hold ourselves back to bear out our humanity. Though, I for one could not compromise what we were, for it defined us as a people. Thus, that was the dilemma that divided Marc and me and others among us: our humanity versus our identity. Still, I knew now why Marc wanted me to promise not to avenge him, and realized in betraying him, and his memory, I played right into the mold that the Federation had set by which it labeled me and those of my kind, as it saw us—because of actions similar to what I had just demonstrated. What I had done was to perpetuate the fear and ignorance of the Federation.

Enlightened by the chain of events, I stood with the manufactured gale of Sapphire blowing on my face. It felt good. Though the winds of Earth were better, the moving air flowed through me just the same, as I let it carry my thoughts elsewhere. Revitalizing. I lifted my arms from my sides and cupped my fingers, trying to capture the air, feeling it push against my hands, which in turn caused my arms to sway back. I lifted my chin so that my hair danced in the flow. It felt so good.

“You should have gone farther than this!”

My arms dropped as I turned about. It was Miller. Her left hand covered her right shoulder with a blood-soaked pad. Her right arm, extended, was shaky as she aimed her weapon at me.

“Night Shift, this is Night Owl One,” she said. “Subject found at heliport of the Cheney building. Requesting backup.”

“How are you?” I said, and approached her with my hands turned out. She seemed a little taken aback by the question. “I'm glad you were not neutralized!”

“Stop right there!” she said. “I don't want your sympathy!”

Not true, I thought.

“I've never been this close to neutralizing you, Naomi Ottawa! I will not let you get away—not this time! This time, I'll be the one to end this chase in dramatic fashion!”

“Dramatic fashion?” I said, shouting over the wind and distance between us.

“Jumping from high places!” she said. “Isn't that how you like to end these pursuits? It was just a matter of time in learning how you think! With your ability to teleport, I would think you enjoy tempting death!”

Ah, yes. I smiled, and then said, “Perhaps, I do!”

“Because of you, many class B humans escaped me!”

“Yes, and I recall the look of defeat on your face the times I helped those of my people to safety!”

“You're my only priority!” she said. “You are the last of those with the ability to teleport! It is good that you confronted Councilor Carmichael, as he has come to his senses and no longer wants you taken alive!”

Last one. It never occurred to me. “I suppose I am, but this won't end here! Not this time! Our affair has been ordained by destiny!”

“Don't you move!”

I shook my head in disappointment. “Hear me out! Please, if you truly possess some sense of human decency, put aside your ignorance and fear!”

The wind flowed between us.

“All right!”

“You are unlike the others! I see it your eyes! You know what you're doing is wrong, and I can see that you are tired of killing! The genocide—”

“Don't try to talk your way out of this!”

“I'm not! I'm just trying to explain to you that our actions are a direct result of a destiny that we must fulfill! I thought mine would end here, after killing Carmichael, but I was wrong!”

“Enough!” she said.

“This is not over!”

“I beg to differ!” Her weapon trembled in her grip.

“You and I have been on opposite sides for a while now! I'd like to at least know your name—your full name!”

She looked at me, the caution palpable on her face.

“Please!”

“Special Agent Ivy Miller, Commander Second Class of the Galactic Division of Investigations!”

“Ivy Miller, is it now? You have a pretty name!”

She did not respond.

“I must go!”

“Stop! If you try to jump, you will be dead before you hit the ground!”

I looked into her eyes.

“I'm warning you!”

Enforcers began to appear.

“It was my pleasure, Ivy Miller!”

A shot rang out. It was as though lightning flashed. Looking down, I saw a blood drop fall, as my life began to seep out of me. I looked back to Miller, and as she lowered her weapon, the antipathy on my face must have frightened her because she looked afraid—perhaps of what I might do as a reprisal. Of course there was no need for this to go on any further. With the red fluid of my existence percolating through my cloak from the gunshot wound, my chest burned. I coughed into my right hand, and looking into the palm of it, I saw blood and wiped it off on the mantle. Cold, my legs began to numb. It felt like the arm of death came across my shoulders and embraced me like family, showing me affection. My vision blurred. It was then that I considered surrendering, but a voice in my head told me that my survival was in the wind, and I backed away, waving good-bye. “I won't forget this!” Those being my last words to Miller, I turned away from her and, not in control of myself, sprinted to the edge and jumped.

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