The Orion Deception (2 page)

Chapter

One

~

Heck Thomas sat at the bar, staring bleary eyed into the bottom of an empty shot glass. A holovision unit at the end of the counter played an infomercial about a new getaway fad resort drift in the Outer System, something called Rigel's Escape. A pair of lovebirds nearby were discussing how they just couldn't wait to begin their own getaway to Rigel's Escape. There were few other patrons in this dive bar. A pair of scruffy grease-covered fellows sat four seats down from him. Some fly-bikers entered through the back door, letting in a wave of stifling Florida heat, and occupied a table in a shadowy corner, close to the way out. An old, sad-looking, man played a rigged holographic game of chance in a dark corner, hoping that he would be the first to beat the machine's impossible and ever-changing odds.

Then another news story broke over the holovision and drew the attention of everyone in the room. Commonwealth Prime Minister, Horatio Arnold, was making an announcement. Even the morose Heck Thomas cast a curious glance at the man who had come to represent everything that had gone wrong with his life. He had met Arnold a time or two before and the man had always seemed nice enough, always seemed to support those who protected and defended the Commonwealth from its enemies. But all politicians were like that, hiding their dark side behind a shield of righteousness. The PM's silence on the existence of the Centaurus Device and the corruption of his own Bureau of Investigations was stinging for the ex-lawman. Somehow Arnold's administration had been able to keep the whole affair quiet and the media, who had been in the Prime Minister's pocket from the beginning of his term, had not reported a peep of the shocking affair.

The bartender tapped a control on the countertop and the volume of the holovision kicked up. Prime Minister Arnold stood behind a podium bearing the seal of his government, the blue flag of the Commonwealth dangled from a banner overhead. A sea of reporters stood quietly, quivering with anticipation over what the charismatic leader was going to say. A network reporter speculated about the nature of today's surprise press conference, seeming almost giddy, as the PM conferred quietly with his Deputy Prime Minister at the podium. Then the reporter vanished and the room quieted as it became clear the PM was going to speak.

Prime Minister Arnold began by addressing the terrible plight of the Commonwealth member states on Earth, known as the Terran States, and the impact of a long-running economic recession that seemed to affect the Earth more severely than anywhere else. A few grumbles of agreement emanated from the patrons in the bar. Arnold went on to talk about how revenues generated by the successful mining operations of the Drift States in the Inner System and the Asteroid Belt were being used to send aid to the Terran States. But a caucus of Members of the Commonwealth Parliament from the Drift States were obstructing his plans to save the starving people of Earth and stem rising tide of rampant crime and corruption. The PM seemed benevolent and kind, almost a father figure, as he claimed that he would gladly end his own political career to save the Commonwealth. While that seemed a selfless statement, Heck recognized it for what it was: the Parliament was going to call for a Vote of No Confidence. And that was something that
would
end the man's career.

Heck threw back a shot of whiskey and tuned out the holovision as he savored the flavor of his drink. He slid the empty glass back across the counter, indicating his desire for a refill, but his attention was drawn back to the holovision by a few shouts of approval from nearby drinkers. Arnold had said something that stirred the people in the bar but he’d missed it. It didn't matter to Heck anyway, the ex-lawman knew the Prime Minister had turned out to be a fraud. Whatever dribble he was spouting would simply serve to divide the peoples of his Commonwealth further, not bring them together. He was playing an age-old trick of politicians everywhere, play the fears of those who support you against those who oppose you.

The PM had indeed made a great show of effecting his own measures to save the economy of the Commonwealth. A popular but very controversial measure he had taken was to create large numbers of Commonwealth Credit Currency to give to the citizens of the Terran States. It was a measure he made unilaterally by Executive Decree, without the consent of Parliament, and outraged the rest of the Commonwealth as vote buying. While the PM had certainly grown his popularity among the Terran States, the measure did nothing to stabilize the economy. In fact, the measure triggered significant inflation because as the government created more money, the money everyone else had became less valuable. And it took more money to buy things than it had before, a lot more.

“
The Drift States are being greedy,”
he heard the PM say. “
There is a movement put forward in Parliament to transition back to a physical currency based on existing stores of precious metals. Tell your Members of Parliament to vote NO! The Drift States control the stores of precious metals and they would control the currency! Your credit money would become useless!”

That was not true, Heck knew. He had thought that the idea actually had some merit, until he remembered that he didn't care about the Commonwealth anymore. Then someone changed the holovision to a sports network to the great relief of some in the bar but not others. Heck was fairly certain that the PM's speech would stir up anger in the Drift States. But what would they do about the blatant disregard for their rights? The Commonwealth wasn't a very old nation, not as old as many of its member states, and it had not yet seen a civil war. Heck suspected that time might come very soon if the PM continued down this road.

The bartender, a giant of a man nearly seven feet tall, reached over with an enormous hand and topped off Heck's shot glass with his special house brand whiskey, muttering angrily about the PM's speech. The drink, a clear liquid that the locals called "swamp water," and had a taste to match its name, burned all the way down his gullet and seemed to set his blood on fire. Heck began to see the play that the PM was making, pitting the poverty stricken Terran States who would vote for him against the successful Drift States who were likely grooming their own replacement for the Commonwealth leader. He wondered if that play would really work for the PM. It didn't make sense, the people of the Terran States would not be the ones participating in a Vote of No Confidence. That would be done in the Halls of Parliament, where it seemed the PM had exhausted his fortune and favor.

Heck downed another shot and waited for the burn to fade and his thoughts turned to Laylara. He had been so close. He had finally convinced himself to abandon his thirst for revenge and go into the wormhole after the woman he loved, despite the risks of the unknown. But just as he was going to engage the Centaurus Device and enter the wormhole, he was attacked and pursued into the Asteroid Belt by government agents from a mysterious organization. At first he suspected the Bureau was behind his attempted apprehension. But it really didn't make sense for Director Hall to take such a sudden turn against him. He had to assume another government organization wanted the device and was planning to commit its own brand of mayhem with the machine that could rip the very fabric of time and space.

But none of that mattered to Heck Thomas anymore. He had remained hidden in the dangerous Asteroid Belt for many weeks, dodging his relentless pursuers and fending off pirates. During the lengthy solitude, Heck began to feel his primal instincts taking over. It was a constant struggle for his physical and mental survival. Eventually he resorted to piracy himself, using the powerful weapon that was his cruiser to board a merchant vessel bound for a drift in the Inner System. He was deeply ashamed of himself, and felt as though he had abandoned his humanity for the sake of his own pitiful survival. He wondered bitterly why he had bothered. An appeal for charity may have resulted in that very merchant satisfying his need for food and water with a smile rather than by force. More than once the ex-lawman had cursed himself for surviving. What good could there possibly be in store for his life now? The cop in him was gone, burned away by the unspeakable events of the past months. He had been forced into hiding, to assume an anonymous existence and become a nothing. A no one. He found that it became very hard to care about anyone or anything else other than hiding from whoever was pursuing him. Loyalty? Loyalty was something that, once lost, could not be regained.

He downed another shot as the sports programming was interrupted by another "breaking news" report.

“
Thank you for joining us,
began the three dimensional image of a news anchor with a British accent.
We will return to the match in a moment.

“
We have breaking news to report from Palace Drift, the capital of the Commonwealth. Today, Liberty Islands Drift have joined Palmetto Drift in accusing the Commonwealth of biased trade policies engineered to favor and prop up the struggling Earth states. The Liberty and Palmetto drifts have declared that these long standing trade policies have amounted to acts of aggression against their sovereignty and have further suggested that any sanctions or punishments enacted against them in response to their withdrawal from the Commonwealth will result in a military response.

“
There has been no official alliance formed between these drifts yet, but Commonwealth officials believe the two countries will act in tandem to any perceived threats. They have been outspoken about this issue for years and have the support of many non-Terran states. Now, for more in-depth coverage we return to Palace Drift and the Prime Minister...”

Arnold had to have known that was coming. Was he
trying
to incite violence? Why else would he send his message blaming the Drift States to the people of Earth if not to shift sentiment against those successful nations? Heck blew out a long sigh. The Commonwealth was very divided over Horatio Arnold these days, and that was reflected in the Halls of Parliament. Supporters of Arnold were growing fewer, but those who were on his side were ruthless in their dealings with the PM's opposition. And lately the members of the PM's opposition were mysteriously dying. Things were going to get bad in the System very soon and Heck wanted to be somewhere in deep space when it did.

It
 
couldn't
 
last, 
he reasoned bitterly as the barkeep filled his shot glass again. There was a point in the history of every great society where its people became inured to the things that made them great. And that point usually fell where the people realized they could use the power of government to take money and property, by force if necessary, from one segment of society and bestow it upon others.

Just then a woman sat down beside him. A very beautiful woman with long blond hair, a nice figure, and long legs displayed beneath a professional looking dress. The woman stirred something deep within him, something he had successfully buried during his solitude in space. It was his need for companionship, female companionship. He turned his attention away from her quickly. He was in disguise now, he could not afford to be friendly with anyone and risk them coming to harm, or risk his own discovery. It was the cost of survival, though the part of him that longed for female companionship rebelled against his logic.

Damn, 
he thought, throwing back another shot.

As he placed the shot glass back on the counter he glanced at the beautiful young woman and saw that she was looking at him, tears streaming down her face. 
Damn.

"I know who you are," she said with a quiet sniffle.

"I don't think so, ma'am." Heck gave her a short reply and held his shot glass up, signaling the barkeep to refill it. The barkeep glanced at Heck and shook his head, leaving the man perplexed. "What the...?"

"Sir, I really need your help."

"Help?" Heck asked absently, as he waved at the barkeep to come to his end of the counter. But the tall man was now studiously ignoring the ex-Marshal.

"My brother has disappeared and I need your help to find him."

"Lady, I'm just a guy trying to drown his sorrows in the bottom of a FULL SHOT GLASS!" he raised his voice as he spoke the last few words and glanced meaningfully at the bartender. The bartender wasn't looking.

"I know a little about your sorrows, sir." The woman had a mild Southern drawl, not unlike those who hailed from rural Florida. He found the accent appealing despite himself. "And I am so very sorry for your loss. But my brother is not lost, not yet."

"Look, I told you before, I don't know who or what you’re talking about," he said gruffly. "Miss!" he called to a passing waitress. But she ignored him too. "Why is it so hard to get a drink?" he said, exasperated. He placed his glass down on the counter in defeat and looked into the bleary blue eyes that were begging him for help. 
Damn.

"I guess I was wrong," said the woman dejectedly. "I'll go."

"Wait," he groaned as she stood, silently regretting it.

The woman's eyes pierced him, gazed right into his soul. He felt a twinge of guilt about feeling so attracted to this woman, but the truth of it was that Laylara was as good as dead now. She'd been sent through the wormhole nearly and there had been no sign of her return. The site of the wormhole was under heavy guard. Commonwealth cutters had a permanent presence in that quadrant now, and heavily armed fighters kept constant patrols in the surrounding space. He agonized over his plight during the many long weeks of his evasion; he had the means to open the wormhole but couldn't get close enough to it to try. It seemed as though all hope of getting back to the wormhole was now lost.

As he gazed into the woman's eyes, Heck made a resolution. He had never been the type to wallow in self-pity for more than a few hours in his entire life, and yet lately he had been doing just that. Heck was a man of action, not remorse. But he had been wallowing in remorse and regret. He had been, a long time ago, a man of faith. But his faith had been broken and he had been questioning. Moments before this woman sat down next to him at his pity party, he had been hoping for a reason to go on with his life. Was this it?