Authors: Wade Andrew Butcher
Adult humans…but how can they see? The blind one has much anger, and we can hear him. Maybe he is one of those we designed. If we can hear him, he can probably hear us too.
The voices multiplied as if there were twenty or more concurrently talking. Their sounds mixed, but the thoughts were not garbled, and instead each voice was clearly understood at the same time.
Breccan heard real noises, ones that were not imaginary, and he knew they were real when Nova screamed. She could see the tiny ones flying over them within inches of their heads.
“What is it?” asked Breccan.
“Something is in here,” Nova cried, and she started to run while holding Breccan’s hand.
The voices continued to haunt Breccan by speaking directly to him.
Your mind is corrupted, and you have become dangerous. To yourself. To the girl. To the others. Shame. Shame. Listen to us and do not be afraid.
“Shut up! Who is that?” Breccan implored.
“You’re scaring me, who is what?” Nova yelled, not breaking stride.
They ran until they came to another door like the one they opened before. Nova led Breccan’s hands quickly to the wheel. The noises came and went around their heads. Breccan yelled as he exerted the necessary force to unfasten the heavy metal door. As it swung open, a well-lit area was revealed on the other side.
As they stepped through, they were followed. Winged creatures fluttered into the open space. They were impossible to count or even describe, visible in any one place for only a small fraction of a second.
“Bats?” whispered Nova.
“Don’t know,” Breccan replied.
They entered the conservatory, an area previously monitored and now abandoned. They had seen it before on rare occasion while under supervision. Tall trees and vines grew up from the muddy floor and stretched through the wide-open space to the ceiling four hundred feet overhead. The ground was rich with plants fed from high above by a lattice of sprinklers and a quagmire of ductwork and lights. The unknown flying birds scattered into the forest, and the door through which they came remained open as Breccan and Nova continued without delay across the stone walkways through the vegetation.
On the other side of the conservatory, they reached familiar territory. They hid together in Breccan’s room and rested from their unwanted jaunt as the engine was still burning brightly outside the window. Breccan gave the bed to his sister and rested on the floor.
Chapter 49
33 Days Remaining…
Nova tossed and turned. A vivid, faceless voice spoke in a dream. The voice was not accompanied with any images. It came from a void and for some reason did not address her directly despite her subconscious pleas to be noticed.
There is much evil and ignorance in this place, but I expected no more under the circumstances. The young one I had been watching was a dichotomy of determination and intolerance and I fear he may crack, but the girl with him has nothing but benevolence in her heart. Her complex set of vague and ancient memories shields her from the temptations that infect the others. Like her clear vision in dark places, her mind helps her navigate the surrounding wickedness.
I was neither opposed to the creative innovation that led to her composition, nor that of the dodecapi, nor the telepathy of the Chiroptera. They were all indirect creations of mine, guided by biological design, analogous to the mechanical device in which they travel, one that I delivered to this time and place with another of my creations in its path. All is according to plan, despite the imperfections and despite the malevolence that infects the descendants of the sea-dwellers. They are the most susceptible to influence, although none are immune. The young man straddles the fence between decent and wicked, and even I know not which side he will land.
The descendants of the bats, whose brains were engineered with receptacles and transmitters, have the potential to pull him the other way. The collective corrections on their own communal behavior present the possibility of effect on that one named Breccan, who was modified before birth by the very same creatures under direction from the dominant species on the ship. All the former cooperative relationships have vanished, atrophied from selfish motivations, and the time has grown short for repair. The arrival, whether successful or spoiled, will occur first.
I hold hope for the girl and optimism that her kind heart will be contagious, but that will only be up to those who know her. I set the machine in motion, but I do not attempt to control the free will targeted by evil.
Nova awoke suddenly. She tried to recall the strangely detailed and explicit soliloquy that entered her thoughts in the dream, but the voice that had been so clear had subsequently vanished.
Chapter 50
30 Days Remaining…
Breccan awoke in surprise, levitating above the spot where he was sleeping. The engine no longer burned, and only darkness filled the window when he opened his eyes. Nothing but the black absence of light filled his vision. There was neither anything to hear nor anything to feel as he floated just out of reach of the surface below.
“Don’t look so surprised, the rocket cut off,” Nova said. Breccan heard her distinct voice but could not see her. He felt embarrassed that a look of panic on his face may have been visible to her.
“Too soon,” Breccan said, not expecting his sister to reply or understand. Some quick calculations he had done earlier suggested that the engines should burn for at least thirty days, twice as long as they had. He was confident that Ace, Ultima, and the Pilots would not have miscalculated so badly, so he questioned his own thought process and whether there had been a malfunction.
He wanted to go check and was determined to do so, but he was still apprehensive about the Keepers and their new rogue behavior. He felt like prey, a single fish in a school, where maybe he would be safe by sheer probability if for no other reason. If he could make it to the bridge, they knew him there, and surely they would accept help. In the meantime, they would have to join the others at some point during mealtime when rations were distributed.
Breccan and Nova were slowly drawn back down to the floor as their weight increased, a result of the reactivation of the gravity stones in the center of Neptune. Standing on his two feet once more, the thought of sleeping seemed both impossible and counterproductive, even though the hour was early and there would be nobody circulating in the common areas. Nova turned on a light and stood by the door, suggesting that she wanted to get out of the room just like he did even at the risk of being seen by someone, or something, unfriendly. They did not speculate which would be worse between the possibilities of being spotted by a nomadic Keeper or a drifting group of people who were restless and bored, or worse yet, hungry and unhappy.
They set out in the early hours of the artificial day in the direction of the conservatory where they had been a few days before. Breccan had an idea of acquiring some food and avoiding the people they would surely encounter by seeking rations. There were no monitoring Keepers to stand in their way, so passage to the conservatory was unfettered.
Thick foliage stood in their way as they ventured into infrequently traveled areas. The vegetation they passed was grown for the sole purpose of generating oxygen, but Breccan knew there had to be gardens rich in food somewhere, previously kept off limits by the Keepers. Nova stayed right behind him as he pushed the branches out of the way.
The type of plants began to change until they successfully roamed into an area with fruit and nut trees. They gathered a snack, an act that was strictly forbidden under all the old rules. They sat deep in the middle of the conservatory where they could not be seen.
“Do you think we’ll make it?” Nova asked.
“I think Ultima and the other Pilots could land this thing without me or Ace,” Breccan said as he chewed on a piece of nameless fruit.
“Is that why they don’t come back here much anymore?”
“Probably.”
“I don’t feel safe around the other people.”
“You shouldn’t,” Breccan affirmed.
“Except you,” Nova said as she grabbed his extra hand.
Breccan smiled at her and reciprocated her firm grip. He closed his eyes, tired from the incomplete stretch of sleep that was interrupted when the engine was extinguished.
He thought of the masses that would soon huddle into the commons to receive rations. The calming effect his little sister had on him was smothered by the agitation he felt thinking of the others. They would all try to push to the front and receive their share more slowly than if they calmly waited their turn. He imagined himself within the crowd. He let go of Nova’s hand, and although he displayed no outward anger, the fury raged within his mind at a person next to him in the hypothetical scene.
Breccan could see the mental image of the frenzied and pitiful tier-three clone. The category of that ranking had nothing to do with the dislike Breccan felt toward him. The man pushed forward, mouth agape, head shaved, eyes bloodshot, and nose running. He wiped it with the back of his hand. He perceived himself to be hungry, but he wasn’t really. He just wanted what was his, disregarding that the fat around his belly could carry him for weeks without food. The distribution of high-nutrient food was more than ample to satisfy their appetites, and Breccan could not understand how the sloth exhibited by that person generated any appetite at all. The extreme effort expended to get to the front of the food quota line was the only exertion put forth by many of those in the crowd, at any time.
As Breccan imagined the events taking place in the commons, his pulse accelerated. He resented his sacrifices, the dedication of his entire life in learning, and the long hours spent with the oppressive Keepers, all for a chance to find a new life for himself and all the ungrateful wretches among him. All of the sleepless nights, the physical exertion to stay in shape, not to mention the defense of the key, and the hardship and stress of navigating Neptune mattered none to the people in the rations line. They only cared about acquiring their next meal so they could sit around a little while longer until it was time to eat again. The disproportionate contributions from the tier-ones angered Breccan, not because he minded the work, but because the others did. They didn’t even try, he thought, to accomplish anything other than was necessary to avoid punitive action by the monitoring Keepers.
Within his imaginary setting, Breccan put the sniffling man next to him in a headlock and squeezed as hard as he could. Breccan squeezed hard and the man wailed, which gave Breccan some small satisfaction, but it wasn’t enough. Breccan released the howling person and pushed him over, then drug him by the ankle along the floor and out of the commons. He released his rage on the victim out of view from the others and bloodied his face until the bald beggar was dead.
It was deserved, Breccan thought, and his wandering mind spoke the words he was thinking, “Worthless sack of …”
What are you thinking about?
He brought himself back from the illusory act, thinking that was indeed what he would have done, and he felt remorse in the presence of Nova. He looked to his side, and she was sitting next to him with her eyes closed, napping after their meager nibble from the trees.
He heard the question but was confused when he looked at his sister. She did not look like someone who had just spoken out loud. He asked, “What?”
The question came again,
what are you thinking about?
Breccan bolted up to his feet. Someone had spoken to them from close by. He spun in a circle. Nothing was there. With no other direction to look, he peered upward. Three bats sat in a row on a narrow branch out of his reach.
“
Such anger
,” said the voice. It was not audible, but the question nonetheless entered unmistakably and unprovoked into Breccan’s thoughts.
I am very angry, but that’s my business alone.
Breccan’s thoughts emanated from his mind involuntarily, and to his surprise, they were answered.
Yes, but violence against your own kind?
He was not my kind.
Breccan thought.
They are all your kind, as are we, and your duty extends to them.
Who is there?
You are looking at us; we are plainly in your view.
The exchange occurred at a speed of thought sooner than Breccan could look away from the curiously small creatures perching above him. He felt a sudden mistrust toward them, so he lifted Nova from her position and led her away. The bats followed overhead and tracked their movements.
“Can you hear them?” Breccan asked his sister as they made haste back through the thick tracts of plant life.
Nova noticed the bats above and replied simply, “No, they’re very quiet.” Breccan did not want to explain further for fear of scaring her.
The whistling Breccan heard was far louder than could be explained by mere tinnitus as they reached the edge of the conservatory. He passed through the exit, wishing for a door to close out the bats, but there was none present in the open passage. The bats remained within the trees and vegetation and did not follow them out.