PRELUDE

 

 

 

General Torchono,

           As per your instructions, this communiqué is coded for your eyes only. We are en route back to Union space. Mizar 3 has been destroyed. The woman was not found. There is documentation detailing her arrival, so it appears the pirate’s information was accurate. I can only assume she is dead. Perhaps that is for the best.

          Sincerely, Colonel C. Scanlon, UDPM

 

          Message transmitted to the 

          Union High Command following the raid on

          Mizar 3

 

 

          The albino was not happy. 

          “You’re certain this is the place?” he asked.

          He studied the viewscreen as he stroked his mustache, the ends of which continued beyond his chin. He had ordered his ship in a close orbit of the world below, but not so close as to risk detection from the Union battleships orbiting near them. He wasn’t looking for a fight, only information. 

          Before him flickered an image of a black and charred world, dotted with scattered fires so large their smoke plumes could be seen from space. A swarm of battleships had just broken from the atmosphere, heading back toward the orbiting mother ships.

          The pilot looked up from his console to the tall, pale figure staring over his shoulder. “Yes, I’m sure. I double-checked the coordinates. Hell, I triplechecked them. I’m telling you, Conn, we’re here. This is Mizar 3—or at least what’s left of it.”

          “And you’ve picked up no report of the woman?”

          “No, and I’m intercepting all communication between these SAG units and the mother ships. They’ve ordered every spare man ground side to help in the search—and this with a Coalition attack group less than an hour away.”

          “She was here, so somehow she must have gotten away during the attack.” He frowned. “She must have been on the transport, the one we detected leaving orbit when the barrage began. Damn. I should have been quicker to lock a trace on it.”

          “Well, the Union must have missed her too,” the pilot replied, “because none of their ships have gone after her.”

          He readjusted his earpiece, squinting in concentration. “This is odd. They’re being asked to check the dead. Why would they want the body?”

          Conn remained silent.

          “Whoever she was, the Union must want her pretty bad.”

          “So it seems.”

          “And you Conn? What’s your interest in this woman?”

          “Call it curiosity.”

          “Curiosity my bad eye,” the pilot snorted. “If you’re interested in her then she must be valuable. Let me guess—is there a reward? What is she, the daughter of some Union general?”

          The large man tossed his head back and laughed, his braided white hair falling around his shoulders.

          “Can Levant Conn do nothing that is not driven by profit? You know Farin, even a smuggler is allowed a few outside interests.”

          The pilot’s expression remained skeptical.

          “Very well. Yes, it is more than curiosity. I have a personal stake in this woman. She’s my sister.”

          “Sister?”

          “In a manner of speaking.”

          The man gazed suspiciously at the albino through his un-patched eye. “All the years I’ve known you, Conn, I never heard you mention any sister.”

          “No, I suppose I never have. We were separated at birth. I only recently learned of her existence myself, but then such is often the way of family. How is the shroud-shield holding up?” 

          “The lady’s concealing device works beautifully. She really is a genius. The Union has no idea we’re here. Oh, there’s an instant during each field cycle when we might blip their screens, but it won’t let them get a fix on us. At worse, we’ll look like a ghost image on their sensors.”

          “Good. Even so, let’s not press our luck. Union battlecruisers have been known to shoot at ghosts before, and I have no wish to lie in the wormhole’s shadow just yet. Prepare to leave orbit. As you have reminded me, I am a smuggler, and we have deliveries to make.”

          “Yes, sir. And your… sister?”

          Conn gazed back at the viewscreen, at the smoldering world slowly rotating below them.

          “There is nothing more I can do for her now. I gave the Union the bait, and they took it. If she was unable to escape during the attack, then she is dead. If not, then she will have to fend for herself until I can pick up her trail again. But I am not overly concerned. She is resourceful, this one. I have no doubt that I will yet find her. Give the order. Have the men prepare for hyperdrive.”

          “Aye Captain.”

          Conn made his way to his cabin as the men made ready to take the ship out of orbit. He entered and sat wearily on the bunk.

          “She is not here?” asked a feminine voice from the shadows.

          “No. At least she is not among the survivors.”

          “She is dead then,” the voice said flatly.

          “Not necessarily. It is possible she escaped in a stolen transport.”

          “Possible, but not likely.”

          “It’s possible,” the albino repeated. He lay back and closed his eyes. It had been days since he had slept properly.

          There was the sound of splashing liquid followed by moist plodding across the floor. Levant opened his eyes. A bluish skeletal form stood above him, her skin glistening wetly in the dim light. Her arms were unusually long and hung limp at her side, the slender fingers almost touching the floor. 

          Kurria seldom left her bio-container, finding the ship much too hot and preferring to stand under the misting spray of the ice cold water. When she did leave it was a sure sign something was bothering her, but the flat face and large, lidless eyes were unable to convey expression.

          “Why is it so important that you find her?”

          “Because she is one of us Kurria, the last of those born from the madness that was Obsidia.”

          Her expression remained blank.

          “I wish to learn more about her. By way of knowing her, I may better learn who I am,” he tried.

          “You are Levant Conn.”

          He laughed. “How literal you are Kurria. Yes, I am Levant Conn. Levant Conn the pirate—fatherless born—the seventh none of a seventh none. And yet who is that, alone and naked in the universe?”

          He sat up, his expression grim. “I did not flee the Star Corps simply to become a pirate. I wish to find some meaning to my life.”

          “Meaning?” she asked, and although her face remained unchanged, there was unmistakable bitterness in her voice.

          “Life has no meaning. You are a romantic, Levant.”

          “Perhaps I am.”

          You have a right to be bitter my poor Kurria. What were they thinking? What were they striving for when they made you? Could they not create genius without destroying your humanity? Or was that their intention all along?

          “I am also exhausted. Now, if you will excuse me…” 

          “But…”

          Levant frowned. Kurria did not need sleep and did not understand other’s need for it. Until her questions were answered, he would get no rest.

          “But what, Kurria?”

          “If she is alive, what will you do when you find her?”

          “I’m not sure.”

          “Is she aware of what she is?”

          “No, I don’t think so.”

          “Will you tell her the truth then?”

          “The truth?” he asked, falling back on the bed with a groan.

          “And what is the truth? Tell me a truth Kurria, any truth. I long to hear one simple truth.”

          “You know what I mean: the truth of her birth. The truth that she is a horror.”

          Yes, that is a truth, he thought, but what a sad, terrible truth.

          “I don’t know yet what I will tell her. Perhaps she’s better off not knowing. Did knowing the truth of your birth help you accept who you are?” 

          “I have always known. How could I not?”

          “Well I have not, and discovering what I am has not offered me any advantages that I can see.”

          Kurria did not answer immediately.

          “Perhaps the advantage then was only to me,” she said finally, “for when you discovered the truth about yourself, you went in search of others. Had you not done so, you would not have found me, and I would still be at Corrolis base.”

          “Yes, creating new weapons for the Union, instead of working for me. Who will they find to invent the next MAAD, I wonder? But is it so much better here Kurria, stuck on a ship with only me for company?”

          “Yes. I am happy here. I do not wish for the company of others. I want neither their revulsion nor their pity.”

          “Good. I am glad you like it here.”

          He yawned and closed his eyes. 

          She stared at him silently until the heat finally became too much to bear. Slowly she walked back to her bio-cell, trying to keep her large, fanned feet from making noise as they slapped against the floor. It would take hours for her body temperature to return to normal, and as always when he slept, she would pass the time in the darkness alone.

          “Kurria,” Levant said sleepily, “Farin said to tell you the shielding device works perfectly. You truly are a genius.”

          She did not answer, but stood under the cold mists, silent and unmoving, her eyes longingly fixed on the figure of the sleeping man.