Titanborn (17 page)

“
Well
might be a bit of a stretch.”

“Yet here we are.” Luxarn paused and took the final sip of his drink. He lifted the empty glass in my direction. “Would you?”

I happily obliged. One word to the bot and he had it carry the bottle over and top us off, fresh ice and all. The Ring had no lack of it.

“Zhaff is extremely important to Pervenio Corp,” he continued, “so I'm hoping that after you successfully retrieve what was stolen along with those responsible, you will stay here and continue to work with him so that we can bring an end to these Children of Titan. Call it an extended assignment.”

The request for a prolonged partnership definitely wasn't the way I saw our conversation going. Obviously I couldn't say no to him, even if the thought of countless more missions and months alongside Zhaff made me itch. There was no better person to have stuffing your pockets than Luxarn Pervenio. Director Sodervall's unexpectedly pleased reaction to seeing me on Pervenio station was beginning to make a little more sense. If I had the backing of Luxarn, then his only choice was to force a smile and act like my closest friend…though I couldn't explain his treatment of Zhaff.

“For how long?” I asked before I could stop myself and think of a gentler way to put it.

Luxarn's eyes narrowed, and for a moment I saw the ravenous glare of the man who owned half of Sol. “As long as I require,” he said sternly. “This is too crucial a time to display weaknesses. I have Venta Co and Red Wing Company breathing down my neck, trying to prove that Jupiter is as viable an option for gas harvesting as Saturn. After that horrid attack on the
Piccolo
people may start listening to them. If we can't continue to work safely here, then immigrants might stop coming. I can't have that.”

“No need to explain to me. I'll continue to work with the freak for as long as it takes, but only under one condition.” I immediately realized that I may've again been too bold. Luxarn's eyebrows lifted in astonishment. He definitely wasn't used to being spoken to in such a manner.

“And what is that?”

I took a deep breath. It was too late to back down. “I won't take orders from a kid. I want the same deal as on Earth. He can offer whatever advice he wants, but I'm in charge.”

Luxarn's expression relaxed, as if he'd expected a different request. “Of course. Deferring to your experience will do him well. And know that you will be paid generously for looking after him. Twice the usual rates, considering he doesn't need credits.”

“I had a feeling he didn't,” I replied, withholding a grin. I wanted to say that if I'd known how beneficial screwing up a job would be, I would've done it more often, but I decided to hold my tongue. I didn't want to remind him of that after receiving such a promising offer. Instead, I tossed back the rest of my whiskey, stood, and saluted him. “Thank you, sir.”

“No. Thank you, Mr. Graves.”

As I turned to leave he stopped me by clearing his throat.

“Oh,” he began, calmly, “and Zhaff may look young, but I would advise heeding his counsel when you can. That
freak
is my son.”

I almost choked on air as I processed what he said. I stared back at Luxarn, who leaned forward with his fingers steepled on the top of his desk and his gaze boring through me. The spherical bot hovered beside him, all-too-familiar yellow lens aimed straight in my direction. I knew I probably should've kept walking, but the liquor in my belly convinced me to do otherwise.

“What are you saying?” I questioned. As far as I knew Luxarn Pervenio didn't have a legitimate heir to his empire yet.

Luxarn poured himself another glass of whiskey and drank the entire thing in a single gulp. He wiped his mouth with his hand this time. Then he said: “His mother was an offworlder from Mars without a name. I couldn't have an illegitimate smear my name so I made sure he was kept a secret and left him in her care. That didn't mean I could help loving him, but he was always a troubled boy. He didn't speak for the first four years of his life…he just watched, waited.

“As he got older others his age didn't take kindly to his silence, but he couldn't be bullied. He couldn't be rattled. My son would sit there and take the beatings until one day a boy went too far. Unable to get a rise out of Zhaff, he beat his face so bad that sight in his left eye was lost and would never recover.”

“I'm sorry, sir, but I've seen him at work,” I cut in. “No way would he have let some boy do that to him.”

“Not the Zhaff you know now, no. That was when I decided to risk taking him in myself. My best doctors claimed he had a particular concoction of social disorders afflicting him, and said that he would always suffer from dissociation. My genes don't take kindly to being told something's impossible. I decided to think of a way he could make use of his peculiar talents; a way he could realize his worth to the future of humanity.”

“The Cogent Initiative,” I said.

“Exactly. But I had no idea how proficient he would become. After only a few short years of focused training he could outfight my finest soldiers despite his size, and outthink my finest agents. I quickly sought out others like him to give them all a purpose. The bastards discarded by the USF because they bore a chronic disease.

“They can never replace men like you of course—those with instincts and passion for their work—so it was no accident I paired you two together. We reviewed many potential partners, and you were my top choice to guide him in our brutal world. Now here we are. Together, who knows what a force you two can become?” Luxarn wore the same dreamy-eyed look on his face he'd been wearing when I first walked in and found him staring out into space.

I was speechless. Of all the collectors he had throughout Sol, Luxarn Pervenio had selected me to work with his only son. It was just as hard to believe that as it was to believe a man like him could possibly have fathered an illegitimate child like I had. But he had no reason to lie. It seemed I had more in common with the wealthiest man in Sol than I'd ever thought.

“I'm honored, sir, but why are you telling me all this now?” I asked. It was the first thing that popped into my head.

“Without knowing who he really is, you saved the life of my son. I know how difficult he can be. For that you deserve to know what you're dealing with. Earth was one thing, but down on Titan there may be dangers that even he is not prepared for.”

I swallowed hard. “And I'm grateful, but—”

He waved his hand to silence me. “Very few people know what I've just revealed to you. I trust that you will keep it our little secret. The USF would love any excuse to discredit my proposal to expand the Departure Lottery.”

I forced a complacent smile, knowing full well that I didn't really have any other choice. “What's another secret?”

“I knew I could count on you.” Luxarn clapped his hands and leaned back in his chair. “It's time you go to him, then. Good luck down there, Mr. Graves. Now that you know what he means to this company, I expect you will do everything in your power to get the job done by his side.”

“Everything,” I affirmed. I went to take a step away and then another thought crossed my mind. “Does he know, sir?”

“Have you ever tried to withhold the truth from him?”

He put on a haughty grin that warned me not to dare press the matter any further. I didn't. I wasn't sure what else to say anyway. I smiled and nodded, and somehow managed to lift my suddenly very heavy-feeling legs so I could trudge out of the room.

There were a handful of moons hovering outside the viewport of the small shuttle transporting Zhaff and me to Titan. They were big and small, far and nearby. Titan was the largest of them—a pale-orange orb dappled with pockets of shadow that gave it the appearance of a windswept skull. I found it fitting for a place where the locals were as icy as the temperature.

I peered over at Zhaff. He'd been staring at his hand-terminal the entire trip, his eye-lens rifling over information so rapidly that I wasn't sure how he retained any of it. After what Luxarn had told me it was impossible to look at him the same way. I'd spent months—albeit most of it in hibernation—not knowing I was directly beside royalty. Even Director Sodervall didn't appear to know, judging by the way he treated Zhaff. I wouldn't say I felt deceived, because I knew that I was part of a very small group privy to the truth, but I honestly think I would've been happier having remained ignorant. Strong as Luxarn's whiskey was, the news was completely sobering.

The shuttle shook violently. We were piercing Titan's thick, stormy atmosphere. Gravity kicked back in. It was only about one-seventh Earth g, but it was enough to feel a sinking sensation in my stomach.

“You are nervous,” Zhaff said to me, noticing me grab my restraints and hold on tight.

It was simply out of reflex. There may have only been a thin layer of rattling glass and metal between me and a frozen tomb, but landing safely was the least of my concerns. It was obvious he could sense something was wrong, though. I just wasn't sure I wanted to let him know the real reason why.

“Anxious to get this over with is all,” I said.

“You are lying,” Zhaff replied. “You have been anxious ever since you stepped out of Luxarn Pervenio's office.”

I sighed, realizing how right Luxarn was. It was foolish to try to hide anything from him. “To be honest, I never thought I'd be in the same room as the man, let alone have a conversation with him.”

I paused and stared at Zhaff's scarred eye. I wanted to stop dancing around the issue, but it was hard to imagine he'd ever been a child, let alone beaten by one. Yet there his useless eye was, sitting like a cloudy white marble betwixt a series of jagged scars. “What do you think of him?” I asked.

“We have exchanged many conversations,” Zhaff replied. “He believes that every being has a purpose, whether small or crucial, toward ensuring the future of humanity. He has dedicated his life to the expansion and evolution of our species. It is a vision that must be supported.”

“I know what he believes. I meant what do
you
think of him? Of Luxarn Pervenio the man? The most powerful in all of Sol.” I took a deep breath. It wasn't that I thought Luxarn was lying, but I decided I needed to hear the truth from Zhaff's mouth to believe it. “Your father…”

Zhaff's eye-lens snapped toward me and analyzed my face. He must have approved of what he saw because he returned to looking at his hand-terminal and responded with words other than
That is classified.
“I am surprised he told you,” he said. “My feelings toward him are irrelevant. He gave me purpose, Malcolm. Without him, I would not exist. He helped create me, like you helped create your daughter.”

My throat went dry. He left out the part where Luxarn and I both kept our illegitimate children secret for our own reasons and transformed them into weapons. And as I stared at Zhaff's emotionless face I couldn't help but wonder if Aria would've wound up the same if she'd stayed with me. As numb as a collector who for thirty years never once put down his gun.

“Just like that,” I mouthed.

“Are you not satisfied with my answer?”

I released my restraints and reached up to place my hand on his tall shoulder. “I'll tell you what, Zhaff. Let's just worry about catching these smugglers and bringing an end to all of this. Deal?”

Zhaff considered it for a moment, and then nodded. “Agreed.”

He didn't press the issue any further. I knew I couldn't allow myself to dwell on the thought and wind up distracted. No matter who he was, or why he was, there was work to be done. For obvious reasons, the fact that Luxarn had met with me personally had me yearning to get the job done, and done right.

I turned away from Zhaff and looked out the viewport beside my seat, barely able to see the tip of the shuttle's stubby wings. The dense air of Titan meant they didn't have to be long to help it balance in flight. After a few minutes the ship stopped shaking and we were safely through the upper atmosphere. The pilot brought us down over an escarpment of frozen rock skirting along the side of one of Titan's famous methane lakes. There wasn't much else to look at with storm clouds rolling in from every direction. It was a desolate place, locked eternally at nearly two hundred degrees Celsius below freezing.

As we soared over the rough terrain, I was able to follow a cluster of thick pipes running out of the lake toward the half-buried colony block that constituted Darien. In the newer Earther colonies around Sol, people tried to construct every structure at a scale reminiscent of the ones on Earth. The first people to settle Titan had apparently forgotten the ruined cities of their homeworld. It was at least a two-kilometer-long chunk of metal that rose thirty meters into the air, making it appear like a monolithic ziggurat. It only seemed taller because it was surrounded by flat, sandy plains, but the brunt of the block's pressurized, inhabitable area extended far underground. There were tiny gaps here and there for translucencies and hangar bays, but for the most part they were completely enclosed by the double-layered metallic shell that held the unbreathable and freezing air at bay.

Darien had access to everything a self-sustaining, internalized city could need. A constant stream of exhaust and smoke puffed out through vents along the top, mostly the result of underground factories and water purification plants that siphoned liquid out of Titan's subterranean ocean and made it potable. I could also make out the angled panels of glass and steel extending away from the base of the block, housing its extensive hydroponic farms. It was like a moat of green around a metal castle. During storms the sand would whip around and mask it, but it was a welcome view of life in an otherwise lifeless setting. The only sign of human attendance at all was the occasional flit of trams shooting through tubes along the raised lines that ran off into the distance toward other colonies.

If my people had designed Darien, they surely would've considered the danger of not spreading out, but Darien was already laid out by the Ringers at the time of the Great Reunion. It was the oldest settlement on Titan, said to be constructed from the original ship that carried over the first settlers fleeing the Meteorite three centuries ago.

A tiny portion of the block's stark façade folded open as we approached, and the shuttle slipped into the revealed hangar. It was located in Darien's shiny upper ward, filled with all manner of shops, offices, dwellings, entertainment venues, and transportation hubs. Once inside, the ship was able to touch down more gently than a ship ever could on Earth. The low g made that easy, though with my weighted boiler suit on my body felt as if it were back on my homeworld.

Zhaff, the workers filling the shuttle, and I filed out into the busy hangar. Security was on us immediately. It figured we would arrive in Darien right as many of the monthlong gas-harvesting shifts let out. They patted us down and checked identification, conveniently overlooking mine and Zhaff's pistols once they realized who we were. They even sneaked us false IDs that declared we were recent immigrant workers from the damaged Undina mining facility just in case we needed them—compliments of Director Sodervall.

Despite our treatment, however, I got an immediate taste for how much worse Titan had gotten since I was last there. Pervenio security officers were everywhere in sight, and they wore lines of tension on their faces. Their eyes darted back and forth tirelessly, scrutinizing every passenger, and if someone's skin was even a shade too white they were checked over three times. Decontamination chambers sat at every entrance, but even they seemed to be less about keeping out diseases and more an excuse for another layer of security. People stepped in and stripped down until there was nowhere to hide anything.

We waited until the hangar was completely clear, and then as we went to leave I stopped at the security post.

“What are you doing, Malcolm?” Zhaff asked.

“I hope you don't think we're going down into the lower ward with all of this,” I replied, gesturing to my clothes, pistol, and other equipment. “We're going to have to blend in. Like everyday harvester workers. Mazrah won't let anyone near her dressed up like us. Hand-terminals only in case we need to make contact.”

No matter what we wore, anyone next to an obvious Earther like me would be in danger where we were going. I removed my duster as well as all my effects and tossed them toward a security officer. I took off the shirt underneath as well since it bore a Pervenio badge. I may as well have been wearing a target. That left only the unmarked, weighted boiler we'd been provided when we arrived at the station.

Zhaff scrutinized my face for a moment. “I will defer to your judgment. You are the one acquainted with the information broker.” It wasn't necessarily a gesture of trust, but at least I was getting better at convincing him to look at things my way. It was actually beginning to feel like a genuine partnership.

Zhaff was already wearing only the weighted boiler suit so the only change to his outfit he had to make was removing the badge he wore proudly on his chest.

“No Earther going down there for leisure would be permitted to wear a gun, either,” I explained. I unfastened my pistol's holster from my belt. I paused to look it over. I loved my gun as much as any man could, and I could count on one hand the amount of times I'd let it out of my sight while on duty. It usually ended poorly, but I was still alive. It had to be done. “C'mon, you, too,” I said as I finally placed it down.

He pulled out his sidearm and looked it over silently. “Malcolm, I have been instructed on the dangers of this settlement.”

“Trust me. It's better we leave them here than have them confiscated down there. I know these kinds of people.”

He nodded and relinquished it.

At that, we were both standing weaponless, in relatively unassuming clothing, with nothing but our hand-terminals, which looked like any others as long as nobody scrolled through our contacts. They couldn't without our thumbprints. The hacked terminal we'd retrieved on the
Piccolo
was tucked securely into the side of my boot.

I glanced up at Zhaff's face. If my jacket was a target, the device covering his eye was a bull's-eye. The thing had
valuable
written all over it, and I knew we wouldn't get far in the lower ward without a thousand Ringers trying to rip it off him to sell on the black. It wasn't like Earth where people were careful most of the time, and I wanted to keep the risk as low as possible.

“That lens. Can you remove it?” I asked. In all honesty I had no idea whether or not it was attached directly to his brain, or if there was even a human eye beneath considering what I'd learned about his other one.

“I am able to, but it is calibrated to enhance my ability to see, aim, and analyze.”

“Well, you're going to have to try to work without it. That thing will earn us way too much attention.”

Zhaff froze for a moment before nodding that he understood. “Agreed,” he said. He reached up and undid the latches built around the device, each one digging into his flesh. It took him about a minute to pull the whole thing off, and underneath it his skin was red and chapped. The eye that was revealed looked to be healthy. It was hazel, just like his father's.

As stagnant as his face always was, his working eye was exactly the opposite. It darted from side to side, investigating everything around him. I couldn't help but stare. For the first time he didn't look like some strange cyborg out of a story. He looked like a young man with a troubled past. I hoped that he was just as capable without the augmentations the lens provided as he was with them.

“I was instructed never to lose it,” he said as he held it up to his face. For the first time I saw the barest signs of sadness on his face, as if he'd never been apart from it. It was a new look for him.

“They'll take care of it,” I assured. I gestured toward the team in the security post. “Anything happens to any of this and Director Sodervall will have you on cleaning duty for a year,” I said to them. They each swallowed nervously before hurrying over to gather our belongings.

I walked Zhaff toward the decontamination chamber leading out of the hangar. “Now, we're both a little too tan these days to go down to the lowers empty-handed. I hope you have credits on you.”

“As usual I am tapped into the Pervenio military account.”

“Of course you are.” I smirked. For a moment I'd forgotten who he was. “All right, she's waiting for us on level B-five of the lower wards in a club called the Maw. Let's hurry there before she changes her mind.”

He nodded and we stepped forward to pass through the decontamination chamber separately. I went first. Electrostatic cleaners made my hair stand up. When the process was complete I was pronounced clean, and was permitted into the Darien upper ward. Zhaff followed soon after.

Unlike the colony block's bleak exterior, the upper ward was bright and airy. Rectangular towers ascended through the tall space on a wide grid, supporting the ceiling of the enclosure like grand columns. Each of them had shops and market-stands wrapping the base, and above that were divided into spacious Earther apartments until they reached the ceiling. Verdant gardens hung in glassy containers between them to serve the luxurious residences on the highest level, glimmering like floating green crystals.