Universe of the Soul (17 page)

Okay, fact. He had lost the woman he loved. He felt grief, guilt, and anger.

Anger? Yes. Heedman sentenced Adri to die out of cowardice. He'd checked the records the analysis team had compiled and concluded that there had been enough time for a rescue operation to succeed before the Belligerent ship would have been in firing range. Granted, they may have been caught in a firefight, but even crippled, the
Oreallus
had the resources to defend itself under the right command. Heedman killed Adri, plain and simple. But now what?

Adri's parents had gotten caught up in the Anti-War Riots in the capital city of Corinthe ten years ago. Xander and Elizabeth Rael had been returning home from a business conference and been pulled into the violence. They hadn't made it back to their seven-year-old daughter, home from school with a mild virus. Although the deaths had been confirmed as a killing of unarmed innocents, the fact that they had been shot by soldiers working on the crackdown meant the whole mess was shoved under the metaphoric carpet. Adri got an apology for the loss of her family and home, was shoved into the overworked foster care system and forgotten. Gray had spent several hours after packing Adri's belongings in the Archives trying to get answers. The ones he found explained a lot about the woman he loved. And lost.

She was given no justice for her parents. From the time of their death until she held her first position of command in the Advance Force, Adri had been powerless and overlooked. Once in command she flourished, until a coward above her took her choices away. Gray couldn't get justice for her parents, and he couldn't fix her childhood. But he could get her justice for her own death.

It wasn't the life's purpose he'd thought it'd be, but it was a purpose.

“I
t's full of syncopated beats and dominant lyrics, what's not to like?”

“The messages it conveys are ones of irrational violence and pleasure in the lack of control of the libido. It's ridiculous. In addition, the rhyming scheme is overstated and lacks genuine poetry. What
is
there to like?”

“Children, please no bickering over the music selection.” Floyd called over from across the room.

Cassie and Zultan continued to stare at each other for several seconds before moving away from the stationary mainframe that housed the lab's music archives.

Tension had mounted in the lab like the steady rise of a flood drain in a storm, rushing beneath your feet and threatening to spill over into violence. Floyd could feel the monitors that had been mounted on the walls gauging his every breath. He was never alone; a mixture of live and humacom security guards escorted him whenever he left the laboratory, even when he simply went to the cafeteria. Security protocol had reached alarming heights. Floyd hadn't been home in weeks.

Something was up. The investigation into his father's suicide (just the thought still gave him a shattering headache) seemed to be dragging on with no updates. Colonel Stroff was constantly making an appearance to check on his work (not that it was anything of high importance since Cassie was activated), and some strange band of technicians whose credentials he could never quite decipher, led by a military officer whose rank was never disclosed, kept barging in to access Zultan's files, despite the fact that all the information Zultan held was also stored in the government's mainframe.

Paranoia was dogging Floyd like one missed question on an aced exam. He could almost feel himself slipping into the eerie calm that kept trying to suck him down into nothingness, where there were no worries, no questions, no feelings. The fact that the calm was tempting frightened him more than all the secrecy and suspicion that hovered around him.

Across the room, Zultan and Cassie sat at one of the computer bays and played chess. They appeared absorbed in calculating their moves in the game.

I've been trying to trace that command signature the medicom received before it tried to poison Floyd.
Cassie reported in a private instant message to Zultan. The IM system between the two humacoms was modified and encrypted, and Cassie had (with loosely interpreted authorization) modified it further so that it was both untraceable and unrecorded.
When I go through official channels, I get the “unauthorized inquiry” block. What about you?

The same.
Zultan made a comment aloud about the game, which Cassie rebutted.

Any information about it from other investigative sources? Who's investigating the incident anyway?

There's nothing in the accessible files. Looking at all available official inquiries, the files report that the case is closed, a dead end. But there is no record to show that any investigation took place.

So it's a cover up.

Zultan flashed Cassie a glance that could only be described as amused.
Your knowledge of human vernacular and colloquialisms has vastly improved. I commend your effort.

Cassie rolled her eyes for effect.
It passes the time better than just shifting to power-saver.

True.

There was silence on both sides as the two humacoms continued to play their game and process information at the same time.

What do the files say unofficially?
Cassie finally asked.

Unofficially?

You said ‘all official inquiries.' Are there any
un
official bits of information you can access?

Zultan placed Cassie's king in check.
I can access anything that is inputted into any government database, you know that.

Cassie moved her bishop to defend her king.
Yeah. That's why you're so valuable, blah, blah, blah.

Blah blah blah?

Is there something you aren't telling me, Harddrive?

Now you're giving me nicknames? I recant my earlier statement due to lack of information. You're organic/human education is not commendable. It's annoying.

Your human education is more pronounced than mine; at least I still know that as a machine, humacoms are incapable of annoyance.

I wouldn't count on it.

Another pause as Cassie reversed the game and placed Zultan's queen in danger.
So answer my question. Is there anything beyond the official report?

Nothing I can tell you.

Because there's nothing to say…or because you can't say?

Can't. The access password to the document in question supercedes even Floyd's security clearance. I am incapable of divulging the information in that file.

What can you tell me?

We were right. Floyd's in danger. The only reason he isn't dead is because he doesn't know what is really going on. If he ever finds out, his life is considered a liablity to those involved. They will very likely try to kill him.

Does this have anything to do with the death of his father?

I can't say. Draw a logical conclusion.

Logically, it does. Given the data I have received from you about events prior to my booting, and from events I have recorded, it connects. It must also connect with the information those creepy guys keep programming into you. All that top secret development stuff.

Zultan frowned and made a pithy comment as Cassie placed his king in checkmate.
Creepy? And how did you know that the information has something to do with development?

Cassie smirked.
Oh come on, we're connected. I can take down anything they try to put up between my system and yours. And the definition of ‘creepy' is ‘causing of an unpleasant feeling of fear or unease.' They sure do that. To top it off, I'm even following protocol. After all, they've never inputted their authorization codes to access you through my access recognition processor, which you know is a breach in procedure. Thereby anything they enter into you is a viable threat to your system, and falls under my scrutiny.

That is dangerous. I would advise you to be careful.

Hey,
Cassie nudged Zultan's shoulder with her elbow.
I can't let anything happen to you.

Nor I you.
Zultan gazed over at Floyd who was rubbing his temples again – an indicator of another migraine coming on.
I think we're all in a precarious position. Whatever they're planning is too fragile to succeed smoothly. All it needs is one variable to shift out of their favor for them to act in erratic patterns that defy logic. When that happens, it will all blow up in our own metaphorical faces.

Is that an irrefutable certainty, or a statistic probability?

A certainty. If I were human, I would guess things have already shifted out of their favor. They just don't know it yet.

***

“By Danwe I just…I just can't believe it.” Royce Carter shook his head and stared in bewilderment down at his mug. “Rael of all people seemed invincible, especially on the field. Blown up.”

The
Damacene
had caught up with the
Oreallus
in record time after receiving the latter's S.O.S. They had met with a drastically different situation than that of their last meeting. The change in status had altered the
Damacene's
own plans, and it was now to escort the damaged ship to a safer space zone. Even a week after the incident, the news still threw eerie shock waves through the newcomers.

Carter and Gray had met in the mess hall of the
Oreallus
on their off shifts (Carter was assisting as acting second officer while a new one was trained). Both had loosened the collars of their uniforms in respect for their off-time. Both wore the traditional black armband out of respect for a lost comrade. It was the first time Gray had searched Carter out in the week he had been onboard. They sat together, sipping coffee and avoiding the topic of Adri. Until now.

Gray had been waiting for Carter to bring her up. “It was foul play, Carter.”

“Yeah, being blown to ash by the enemy is pretty foul.” Carter agreed.

“Even more so when it's your own captain who unnecessarily signs your death warrant.”

The younger officer looked up sharply from his beverage. He no longer appeared bewildered. In fact, he looked just a little bit intimidating. “Are you implying that Heedman acted out of cowardice?”

“Interpret it how you want.”

Carter's eyes widened. “Are you trying to give yourself career suicide?”

Gray quirked an eyebrow, “You doubt me?”

His companion huffed a breath, “No. But that doesn't mean anyone else will. In fact, I know they will. They
will
believe Heedman over you, his word carries more weight. It's the way it works, so why kill yourself, er, proverbially?”

“For justice.” Gray leaned forward, deliberately invading Carter's personal space. “Adri deserves justice for once. She never got it in life, so I'm going to give it to her in death.”

Carter's eyes began to shimmer with a hint of respect and amusement. “And here I thought you were an placid sort of fellow.”

“And here I thought you were a brainless rich boy who got his position from favors. Perceptions can be dangerous.”

Now Carter smiled. “Right about that at least. It still doesn't change the facts. Your word against Heedman's, Heedman is going to win, every time.”

Gray reached into his pocket and pulled out a data chip. “Even if I have proof?”

“Hmm,” Carter leaned back, eying his companion with new interest. “What kind of proof?”

“Unaltered recordings from the bridge monitor, the available readouts from the bomb squad who dealt with Adri in the warehouse. All the security reports and analyses of the enemy ship's approach and threat rating, as well as my communicator's recording of sequencing events.”

“Does it prove anything?”

“It proves that we had time to launch a rescue before the Belligerent Coalition's ship was in firing range, and that Heedman chose flight even over the advice of his senior staff who were present at the time.”

Carter whistled. “Impressive.”

“As security officer, I can finagle just about any data I deem attached to my area of concern. So, everything. Mostly to keep myself occupied.”

There was a short pause. “I guess you'd need it.”

“Is that enough to indict him?”

Carter pondered a moment, staring into his mug as though his simulated coffee could give him answers. “The Galactic Commonwealth is run by a circle of highly sophisticated elite. While they manage to bump along and encourage the less affluent to serve their country, they will close ranks when one of their own is threatened. Albert Heedman is, unfortunately, one of their own. No one is going to welcome any accusations you dare to make.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience?”

“Personal observation,” Carter smiled a little. “I am one of them, remember?”

Gray leaned back and glanced idly around the mess hall. The tables near the holo-stage were full, despite the late hour, and the bar and the end was still maxed to capacity as people socialized, relaxing after a day's work; arguing, gossiping, flirting. Life went on, but his had altered course. “What will make them listen?”

Fiddling with his coffee, Carter spoke slowly. “The proof you've gathered counts heavily in your favor – but if you play it wrong, it could be argued as harassment.”

“What?

“Don't think Heedman's lawyer won't try every angle to make you look bad. It isn't just him you'll be taking on, but also the powers that be who put him in as captain. What you'll need is a person with some political clout like, say, myself, who can and will speak for your integrity. Not that I'm much in those circles. A flake, I'm afraid. You can't just waltz in and say, ‘hey, he killed my girlfriend, I want him to pay.'”

“But I do. So how do we make it look like that's not my primary motive?”

Carter leaned forward and spoke just above a whisper. “By creating reasonable doubt. It won't be enough to just present the evidence, you have to insinuate that Heedman not only did this, but could be quite capable of doing it again – to anyone. Lodge an official complaint, then don't do anything until you get back to Halieth. That will give them time to begin to think that it was their idea to dump Heedman when you come in person to present your evidence. We'll go from there.”

Gray chuckled, sliding the data chip back into his pocket. “You actually have a plan, right?”

“Hey, I'm wounded.” Carter grinned. “I may be a flake, but I'll get the job done – without either of us losing
our
jobs in the process.” He sobered. “Rael was one of my best friends. If Heedman tossed her life out like spare gear, I want to see him yanked down and groveling for his ostentatious life.”

That night, after he had said good night to Carter and stared at a younger version of his Adri, after the hum of the ship's engines had faded in and out of his conscious, Gray fell asleep.

And dreamed that he was wading through endless mist, searching, searching for something he'd lost.

Something brilliant, almost too hard to see, approached him through the never ending twilight, enveloping him until he could see every star in the endless blanket of space, every shoot of grass that grew on his grandmother's plantation. Even his own emotions manifested into soft colors that dripped out of his eyes and vanished into the brilliant being surrounding him. He squinted, trying to make out a face in the light, but just when he thought he could recognize the features of someone familiar, the light winked out and the mist was filled with screams and the blood of hundreds.

False face, false words, false purpose

Everything and nothing is cause for suspicion – even my own actions. I feel fine, and I feel dead. Everyone looks at me with question and mistrust on their faces – Me, who knows nothing but that something SOMETHING some thing is wrong.