28 – Travel Interlude
The train was quiet once it got moving; with the magnetic rails engaged, it produced no clatter or vibration, only the subdued hum of its fusion power-plant and the rush of displaced air outside the insulated car. Despite a good night’s sleep, Hector might have dozed as they pulled away from the city and its neon lights, but then the sunrise became noticeable and he looked with wonder out at the Martian landscape.
As the last of the rectangular, industrial buildings fell away, left behind by the train’s speedy passage, the fat orange orb of the sun crept up, almost like the planet was reluctant to wake. Pale gold light spilled across the horizon, washing over rust-red plains softened by centuries of terraforming efforts: windbreak forests and engineered grasslands. Long shadows stretched from low hills and distant stony escarpments, and the sky deepened from violet to a muted blue as the sun climbed.
“First time?” the stranger across from him asked.
Hector scowled, fearing his quiet ride was at risk. Rather than encourage conversation with a detailed answer, he shook his head. “Just the first in a while.”
“Young to have much experience with these things, aren’t you?”
Hector’s frown deepened as he turned his pale blue eyes fully toward the older man. “Am I?”
The suit cleared his throat and looked down, perhaps made uncomfortable by the intensity of Hector’s gaze. He lifted his tablet and resumed whatever busy-work he’d prepared for the train ride. Hector looked back out the window, part of him irritated with himself for being such a hard-ass, and part of him satisfied. The satisfied part was louder.
//I have a preliminary report on the massacre of the Conti family and some ideas for avenues of investigation.//
Evie’s sudden pronouncement caught Hector off-guard; his mind had begun to drift toward memories of other desolate landscapes seen through the windows of other vehicles. He focused on the shimmer of a distant retention pond, bracing himself as he mentally indicated he was ready to listen.
//As you know, the event took place 197 years ago and has been historically designated The Night of the Gray Phage. The name comes from the primary vehicle of the massacre: a genetically engineered virus designed to target the bacterial and nanite biomes of those infected. It stripped victims of their automated repair systems and corrupted their neurodecks—if they had one—before a second-wave catalyst activated a lethal poison.
The two agents were airborne, odorless, and invisible, and by the time the first attendees collapsed, it was already too late for effective intervention. More than two thousand victims were claimed by the phage—Conti family members, auxiliary personnel, event staff, and local residents attending the festivities.//
“Dammit,” Hector growled softly. The man across from him looked up, but Hector kept his gaze focused out the window. And me? I supposedly killed Drake and Esme and the others? Alistair Ventress-Dane supposedly took me down?
//That’s what the records I have access to report.//
So the estate was destroyed?
//No, the estate still stands, owned by the Ventress family.//
You see the problem with that, right?
Evie was silent for a moment before she replied:
//You were a Praetorian-class aura wielder. Alistair couldn’t have killed you easily or without a battle, even though he, too, was rated as Praetorian-class. The battle would have been titanic.//
Exactly. What about the rest of my team?
//Lucien, Maribel, and Stefan succumbed to the phage. I couldn’t find any record of Aiko.//
And the Contis? They were all confirmed dead? No neurodecks?
//That’s the worst part, Hector.// Evie’s genuine remorse was enough to make Hector hold his breath. //Drake, Mara, Esme, Fernando, Jasmine, and Nora were all found in the solar, killed by an Aura Blade, their neurodecks removed and shattered. It was a horrific scene.//
Hector squeezed the arms of his recliner until his knuckles popped.
I couldn’t have done that.
//I know.// After a few seconds, Evie continued speaking into his auditory implants. //Arndt Conti maintained his innocence up to the moment of his execution, though Imperial investigators found evidence of the phage’s development at his private estate on Ganymede. Correspondence between him and Drake showed a rift: Drake had maneuvered the family to much greater heights than the prior generation of Contis, and Arndt didn’t think he was getting his share of the glory—he’d bankrolled much of Drake’s early investments.//
So he decided to massacre the entire clan? It sounds insane.
//Again, I’m sorry, Hector. That’s where you come into the story. Arndt supposedly recruited you, designed a phage meant to kill Drake and his successors, but you—according to the historical record—were mad with rejection after Drake refused your request to marry into the family. You unleashed the phage on a wider scale than intended. The record contends that you opted to do it during a public event rather than at a time when only the family was home. The massacre of Drake and his immediate family was presented as evidence to support your execution by Sir Alistair.//
Hector’s white-knuckled rage fell away, replaced by something worse—a cold, simmering fury that went beyond any sort of physical outlet. He closed his eyes, sinking back into the recliner as his mind reeled. Images of the Conti family paraded through his thoughts. He’d loved those kids, and Drake and Mara had been good to him. Esme? Esme had been something more, but he’d never had any thoughts of marriage! Had he? Regardless—there was no way he’d kill any of them. Maybe Drake if he goaded me enough and challenged me to a duel. Never those kids. Never Mara.
//I agree. You were set up as a scapegoat—Arndt, too, if you want my assessment.//
As the roaring in his ears faded and the fury settled into background noise—a simmering cauldron ready to boil over at the slightest nudge—he prompted Evie: And where do I look for answers?
//There are several—//
She stopped short as a plump woman in a train-staff uniform approached the table and asked, “Breakfast, gentlemen?”
Hector’s table companion looked up and nodded. “Coffee and the settler’s omelet.”
The woman looked at Hector, smiling pleasantly, her green eyes peering from beneath orange-tinted bangs. “And you, sir?”
He wanted to tell her to leave—no, better yet, he wanted to ignore her. His anger wanted an outlet. He yearned to clench his fist and smash the table or the window. He wanted to feel the sharp pain as his knuckles split—a reminder that he was still alive, that he could still do something. But he couldn’t, could he? They were dead. Of course, vengeance was required, but were the fiends who’d killed the family he’d sworn to protect even alive to taste his wrath? His stomach rumbled, an embarrassing reminder of his frailty.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“I’ll have the same.” He turned back to the scene outside the window, taking some solace in its desolation.
“Very good, and just a reminder, gentlemen: in about fifteen minutes we’ll pass outside the influence of the Heliopolis gravity generators. Be careful if you stand and move about.”
Hector ignored her, and Evie continued with their earlier conversation:
//As I was saying, there are several avenues to investigate. If we were to book passage to Ganymede, we could try to pick up Aiko’s trail. There might be local records of her travels or her fate. We can also look into the Ventress Trade Consortium; they benefited the most obviously from the Conti family’s destruction. However, their gain was mostly monetary. The Lautrec family gained the most politically. The Conti family had climbed the ranks in terms of the other Royal House’s respect. There were whispers of eventual succession challenges. The demise of the Contis silenced those seditious tongues. Then, of course, there’s Alistair Ventress-Dane…//
And Arndt’s kids?
//Both dead, though they did have heirs. It’s possible that there may be some verbal or even written accounts of the events—held secret by their families. Their estates are still in old Europe. Sir Alistair is also on Earth, so you could explore more than one avenue of investigation by going there.//
So, the bastard is still alive, hmm? Earth or Ganymede? I’m not ready to fish around the Lautrecs yet.
//With due respect, Hector, you’re not ready to travel off-world yet. It’s not cheap, and you don’t know what you’ll be walking into. Each destination holds many risks and challenges. Sir Alistair has not grown soft with age.//
Hector didn’t respond. He didn’t need to; Evie could read his surface thoughts. He was basically in agreement with her. The Contis had been dead for two-hundred years. There was no sense in rushing into things and getting caught or killed before he was ready. As he sat there, staring out at the mostly red landscape, he thought about Aiko and her strange absence from the official record. Could she have betrayed him? He couldn’t imagine it—not after all they’d been through. She’d been close to the Conti children, too.
Keep trying to dig into Aiko. I’ll set up an Imperial bit-vault soon, and you can order some data packages from the Jovian System.
//Understood.//
When the train shifted out of Heliopolis’s gravity field, he felt it in his guts. His limbs became light, and it took him a few minutes to get used to the inertia his movements created. It didn’t affect him much more than that; he stayed in his seat, which was hugging him close, and when their food came, he knew enough to move slowly and precisely as he ate. The older man across from him also took to the change without any fuss.
The omelet was good, and it came with fruit and potatoes, which his young, hungry body appreciated. As he poured cream into his coffee, his table companion chuckled. “Ah, the youth—always quick to curb the bitterness, losing sight of the many notes of flavor it contains.”
Hector’s mood had changed since coming to grips with his fate; his ever-present companion, the anger that dwelled deep in his spine, was quiet. That said, the man’s comment was meant to prick a nerve, and Hector smiled as he ignored the bait. “I need the calories.”
“Ah, yes. I can see you’re a working man by your attire. Heading to Redwick to try your luck at the mine?”
Hector shrugged, stuffing a bite of eggs into his mouth. As he chewed, he held a fist in front of his mouth and spoke around his food. “I thought I’d look into it.”
“You must be doing something well. These seats carry quite a premium.”
Hector sipped his coffee, looking at the man more closely. Why was he fishing? Was he just bored? Nosey? Probably looking for an angle to say something that makes him feel superior. By way of explanation, he said, “I won some fights.”
“Ah!” To Hector’s surprise, the man’s eyes lit up with genuine interest. “A fighter? So you’re heading to Redwick for more than just the mines, eh?”
Hector could do basic arithmetic, so he figured the guy must mean there was a decent fight scene in the mining town. Even so, he didn’t see the harm in admitting he wasn’t aware of it. “Good fights there?”
“RMC holds a tournament every week. Let’s just say the miners love it—watching and taking part.” He stuck out a too-clean, well-manicured hand. “By the way, the name’s Roy Janus. I’m a VP of robotics acquisitions for RMC.”
Hector took the man’s hand and shook it, surprised by the firmness of the grip. He didn’t have to ask what RMC was; Evie filled him in.
//Redwick Mining Consortium.//
“I’m Hector.”
“Hector, huh? Well, what’s the last name, partner? I can put in a word with HR.”
Hector smiled, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t feel right.”
“Huh.” Janus sat back, nodding slowly. “Well, I’ll keep an eye out for you, anyway. If you want to fight, just be aware, they let the synths participate.”
Hector arched an eyebrow. “That right? Mining units?”
“Mining and security. If you’re not augmented, you might want to just watch—maybe make some bets.”
“Thanks for the advice.” Hector pushed his empty plate to the edge of the table, then finished his coffee, turning his attention back to the view outside. Janus got the hint that he was done chatting and turned back to his tablet.
Evie, how many people live in Redwick?
//As of the last census two years ago, 37,844.//
For some reason, he’d pictured a larger town. He’d have to be careful about people recognizing his skin’s face. He figured he could pick up a filtration mask to cover most of it, and his eyes were already different enough. Evie knew what he wanted before he thought to ask, and he watched as his map flickered, loading in data for Redwick Station. She highlighted the train station and then marked a nearby building with a blinking white dot.
//A store specializing in work clothes; their net page lists several air filtration masks and breathers.//
Perfect. Any stops between here and Redwick?
//One: Caliber Labs—a research facility and employee arcology about midway between Redwick and Heliopolis. I imagine a large portion of the train’s passengers will disembark there.//
Hector closed his eyes and leaned back, allowing the train’s gentle sway to lull him into a doze. It was easy to forget they were hurtling over the Martian desert. When they stopped at Caliber, the gravity field woke him, and he looked out to see a tall, mirror-sided, cylindrical building standing proudly from a grass-covered hillock. A paved lane led down to a train station, and when they pulled up, he saw a dozen little shuttle cars motor down to meet the employees getting off the train.
“Decent money to be made working for that company, too, Hector. But you have to be willing to sign a nasty contract. Kiss your freedom goodbye for a few years, at least.”
Hector looked over at Janus, arching an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Oh yes. Mandatory on-site dwelling, and you won’t get a leave pass for at least four months. Even so, their arcology is nice—restaurants, bars, entertainment. They’ve even got a zoo outside on the other side. I did a tour when I first came out this way, but Redwick offered me a better package.”
“Huh.”
Hector leaned back, closed his eyes, and soon enough, the train got moving again. When Redwick Station first came into sight off to the left-hand side of the train, but still quite distant, Evie woke him with a gentle chime. It wasn’t that she could see things while his eyes were closed, but now that she was connected, she could catch a GPS signal and knew the view would be there.
The town wasn’t anything pretty, that was for sure. Apparently, the mine was an open pit because huge piles of tailings dominated the skyline behind the handful of tall buildings that constituted Redwick’s downtown. The tailings were laid out in tiers, built up as the mine widened and deepened. The company had seeded those piles of dirt with grass and trees to keep the dust down. They weren’t ugly, but they weren’t natural—a distinctly humanity-made horizon of hills bordering on mountains.
The town itself looked to be about a dozen streets lined with medium-sized buildings. A few stack-style apartment complexes stood above the others, and on the other side of town, he saw a sprawling suburbia of concrete, box-style homes. Still, the mining company had gone to a lot of effort to do its part in terraforming the landscape. Grass and trees abounded, and Hector could feel the presence of a gravity generator. “Is the air good?”
“Hmm?” Janus looked up from his tablet. “In Redwick? Not good, but not terrible. Better than some of the smaller towns. If I’m spending much time out in the pit inspecting equipment, I wear a breather.”
“Thanks.” Hector noted a couple of empty tumblers on the table beside Janus’s tablet and realized he must have missed the steward coming around to offer and deliver drinks. Slept deeper than I thought.
Before long, the train pulled into the station, and Hector followed Janus out onto a barren concrete platform. Several tall light posts dotted the perimeter, and a ticketing kiosk sat under an awning, but the nearest building was half a kilometer away, down a quiet, paved road. Hector glanced at his mini-map and saw a dotted line leading down the road. His walking time to the clothing store was twenty-one minutes. He glanced at Janus, who was staring into the distance, muttering under his breath. On a call.
//There is a cab service here. Shall I order—//
No. I’ll walk.
Only about forty other people got off the train, and Hector realized Evie had been right about most of the passengers getting off at the research arcology. Some people moved to sit on concrete benches, and some were wandering toward a stand of rental e-bikes, but many were already shuffling toward the road, heads down against the breeze blowing in off the Martian plains.
Hector started walking, but Janus called after him, “Hey, Hector!”
He turned toward the older man, noting the fancy scarf with a built-in filter he’d pulled up over his mouth and nose. “Yeah?”
“It was good to meet you. I like a man who doesn’t babble. I’ll keep an eye out for you at the fights!”
Hector nodded and waved, and then he turned and trudged toward the road, head-down with his collar up so it covered his lower face—just in case someone who knew Paul Chevalier saw him walking into town.
