Music of the Spheres (19 page)

The locks were keyed with an infrared
scanner. When Terry had first come aboard the Lucis Observatory, Captain Gruber
had sprayed the back of his wrist with a laser. It left no visible mark, but
the old smuggler had assured him it was a kind of sub-dermal tattoo that would
last for at least a few weeks. It would give him access to all the labs and
common rooms with a mere wave of his hand.

There was a moment of doubt when Terry
reached the door. If Klaus had updated the security databanks and removed
Terry’s clearances, this trip—and his plan—would be cut short. But the door
opened into a darkened room. The smell of unwashed humans wafted up and he had
to force himself not to gag.

He had some expectation that once he opened
the door, the Americans would rush him and knock him down before he could talk
to them, but when he flicked the overhead lights on, he saw that the soldiers
looked weak and defeated.

One of them looked up as Terry stepped into
the room, and said, “Who are you?” in English.

The others spotted Terry. Their eyes
narrowed and their jaws clenched.

Terry had spent the better part of the past
year learning their language, and though he still had trouble with
aspects—especially slang—he felt confident enough to relay his idea to them.

“My name is Terry Fernandez. My grandfather
is the guardian of the Song of the Stars scroll. I am as much a prisoner here
as you. Our captors are experimenting on your
compañero,
Major Turner,
and if you don’t help me, they will most assuredly kill her.”

∞

Klaus was hunched over a computer monitor, tapping
one long finger against his lips as he scanned the diagnostics.

A few meters to the side, Jose was looking
at the brightened window between the lab and the workshop, as if mesmerized by
the display. He had his hands folded over one another behind his back, and
every few seconds he would make a rocking motion, lifting himself up on the
balls of his feet, and then settling himself back down.

Sitting on a tall stool at a lab table,
Captain Gruber held half a deck of cards in one hand. The rest of the cards
were arrayed on the surface of the table in a game of solitaire. At his hip was
an ion pistol in its holster.

On the other side of the room, two of
Jose’s Cruzados were looking bored. One of them leaned against a computer
server rack and rested his elbow on the top. The other was chewing his
fingernails with his teeth. Both of them had ion pulse rifles, but they were
propped barrel-up in the corner a few paces away.

“How much longer, do you think?” Jose
asked. His voice sounded casual, but there was a note of anticipation in it.

Klaus popped his head up from the display.
“Any minute now, I—”

Then he blinked, noticing that Terry had
entered the lab without anyone knowing.

A moment later, everyone else turned their
heads, sensing something wrong in Klaus’s voice.

Terry willed his breathing to remain
steady, and his heart to beat normally and not jump right out of his chest as
every person in the room glared at him, first in surprise, then with alarm.

The two Cruzados stumbled into each other
as they both went for their pulse rifles, but Captain Gruber already had his ion
pistol out and pointed at Terry.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jose
demanded. “Where’s Esteban? That idiot!”

Terry kept his eyes fixed on Jose. He
didn’t want to rush anything at this point. Unless he kept his voice level, the
leader of the Cruzados would not take him seriously.

“I have something to tell you, Jose,” Terry
said after he was sure he had everyone’s attention. He was impressed with how
calm he sounded.

“Oh?” Jose blinked and shot a quick glance
at his two men, making sure they had found their pulse rifles and were ready to
handle any kind of trouble.

“Your life is in danger.” Terry didn’t make
any threatening gestures, but he could immediately see the fear and uncertainty
in Jose’s eyes as he looked up and down to see if Terry had a weapon.

“Really?” The sarcasm in his voice was
tinged with doubt. “I understand if you are upset,” Jose said, stalling for
time, “but I’m sure we can talk it out.”

With a slight shake of his head, Terry
said, “The danger is not from me.”

Jose narrowed his eyes.

“When I was in the washroom earlier, I
overheard Klaus and his uncle say they were going to kill both of us and take
over your men once the experiment was successful.”

Whipping his head first to the left at his
men, who looked as confused as him, then back to the right at Klaus, Jose said,
“Is this some kind of joke—?”

But he went silent when Captain Gruber
swung his ion pistol away from Terry and pointed it at Jose.

Klaus, who had been watching the exchange
with a half grin, said, “No joke, Jose. The little man has it right. You see, I
thought it over, and even though the entire galaxy is really big, I’ve decided
I really don’t need a co-commander. But I’d like to thank you for your contribution
to the cause—my cause, that is.”

Jose, wild-eyed, threw a look at the two
Cruzados. “Don’t just stand there! Shoot him.”

The men raised their pulse rifles, but they
didn’t point them at Klaus or Captain Gruber.

“Oh,” Klaus said in a smug tone, “and I’d
like to thank you for your men. As it turns out, most of them really weren’t
interested in your silly crusade, or in following your incompetent leadership.”

Jose opened and closed his mouth in shock.

No one was paying attention to Terry all
the while, and he slowly backed away from the conflict, heading toward the lab
door. He unlocked it with a swipe of his wrist, and a moment before he opened it
wide, he shouted:

“Jose! Run for your life!”

Seeing the open door, Jose took one step
toward safety.

Captain Gruber fired the first shot, and
that pulled everyone’s attention back to the center of the room.

The ion stream hit Jose high in the arm,
and he spun around, but did not fall. Screaming from the pain, he dove behind a
table.

Just then, five American soldiers burst
into the room and rushed Gruber and the two Cruzados, who fired blindly at the
men without hitting anyone. Trent Gruber, however, did not panic under fire,
and shot an ion stream directly into the head of the first man to reach him.

In the confusion, Terry lost track of
Klaus, who must have dived for cover. He quickly skipped to the side, looking
for the man, and saw two sets of legs kicking wildly from behind a metal table.

Dashing around, Terry saw Jose, bleeding
from his arm, sitting on top of Klaus, his hands around the other man’s throat,
trying to choke the life out of him.

An ion stream from one of the rifles hit
the tiled drop ceiling, and a small section broke free and crashed down on
Terry. He threw a hand up to protect his head and glanced over to see two of
the Americans tackle the two Cruzados on the other side of the room.
Malnourished and weak, they were barely able to pull the pulse rifles out of
their opponents hands. In hand-to-hand combat, the Cruzados were getting the
better of them.

Captain Gruber wasn’t able to get off
another shot before the two other Americans, Lieutenant Jeffries and Corporal
Marks, collided with him. They fought for control of the gun.

In front of Terry, Klaus and Jose rolled
around on the floor, each trying to squeeze the life out of the other. Terry
was all for letting them finish each other off, but he knew he couldn’t chance
either of them getting away.

He threw himself at the two men who had
been the engineers of his downward moral spiral. The sudden anger he had for
them surprised him, and he found himself punching them indiscriminately.

They had lied to him, tricked him, led him
to betray himself and the people he loved, and then planned to kill him. The
injustice of it all filled him with such a rage, he didn’t even notice that one
of them had stabbed him in the stomach with a screwdriver. It was only when
Klaus, with a curse in German, kicked him off and onto his back, that Terry
felt the shooting pain in his abdomen.

He couldn’t breathe, and it took everything
in him to get to his feet.

Klaus was bleeding from his nose and a few
other cuts on his face. He spat blood as he used the metal table to haul
himself up.

Jose remained on the ground, still and
glassy eyed.

With his vision tunnelling, Terry saw that
the Americans had managed to subdue the two Cruzados and were keeping them
pressed to the ground.

On the other side of the room, Lieutenant
Jeffries was on his knees, holding his hand over his face. Corporal Marks and
Captain Gruber had both hands on the captain’s gun.

With a vicious kick, Captain Gruber knocked
the wind out of Corporal Marks, and the American released his grip on the ion gun.
Captain Gruber shot him in the chest, point blank.

Klaus, seeing this, ran to help his uncle.

Like a predator, Terry let out a war cry
and charged after Klaus. He had to prevent the two from escaping. If they got
out of the room and sounded the alarm, their rest of the Cruzados would easily
overcome Terry and the surviving Americans.

Captain Gruber swivelled at Terry’s cry,
and fired a charge at him without a moment’s hesitation.

Two things happened at the same time.

First, there was the feeling of a
sledgehammer pounding Terry square in the chest. His forward momentum kept him
from falling back to the ground, but he couldn’t breathe, no matter how much he
tried to force his lungs to inhale.

Secondly, a fraction of a moment later, an
ear-shattering explosion sounded from behind him and the entire room filled
with light as the ion stream passed clean through him and into the window of
the lab.

With the window blown out, the particles of
light that Major Turner had become were now free from any barrier, and spilled
out into the lab.

Above the ringing in his ears, Terry heard
Klaus scream, “No!” as the photons swirled and escaped out into the hall.

Terry saw Lieutenant Jeffries spring up,
face bleeding, to collide with Captain Gruber, and he sensed the other soldiers
race past him to help bring Klaus and his uncle down.

But the last thought that went through
Terry’s mind was not that he had managed to defeat Jose and Klaus, but that he
finally figured out what his dream meant.

The gods of old had spoken to him. In order
to save his people, Terry had to be sacrificed.

And as he sank to his knees, and the final
darkness enveloped his consciousness, Terry decided he was all right with that.

His grandfather would be proud.

28

Unofficial
Transcript :

Alex Manez Interview
Part Two :

Dated
August 2103 :

Frank: “Good morning, Alex. My name is Frank Galloway; I’m
the senior advisor for USA, Inc.’s Board of Directors’ oversight committee for
Quantum Resources. I’ll be taking over the debriefing from my assistant.”

Alex: “Where’s Edgar?”

Frank: “I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s been reassigned.”

Alex: “I’m not worried. But I still want to know why he
isn’t here.”

Frank: “If you must know, this conversation is outside the
scope of his security clearance.”

Alex: “And you have enough clearance?”

Frank: “To be honest, I don’t think anyone has enough
clearance. But at the very least I’ll be able to determine whether the
information you provide can be disseminated, and if so, through which
channels.”

Alex: “But your scientists need to know what I know, or
we’ll never be able to use Kinemet the way it was intended.”

Frank: “I’ve spoken with the department heads at Quantum
Resources. They’ve all assured me that they can make Kinemet a viable fuel for
space travel.”

Alex: “Maybe, but the way they are using it is dangerous and
very inefficient.”

Frank: “And how does it need to be used?”

Alex: “I don’t know, exactly. But you need to stop them from
repeating the
Quanta
mission. People will die. They need to start over
from scratch.”

Frank: “Alex, you strike me as a highly intelligent young
man, but this is the real world. There are other factors that need to be taken
into consideration.”

Alex: “Such as?”

Frank: “…All right… For one thing, the space program is
extremely unpopular at the moment: we are spending billions every year, and so
far we haven’t been able to recoup those expenses. Alex, we were hoping for a
different result from your mission; something we could use in our PR campaign
to bolster support, something that would fire the imaginations of the
population. Heck, we’d have settled for a little green man in a flying saucer.

“In the eyes of the media and the public, the
Quanta
mission was a failure. The ship was destroyed, there was no contact with an
alien race, and the viability of Kinemet as a fuel is still years—if not
decades—from refinement. We need a success, and soon. The USA, Inc. Board of
Directors are generally not scientifically inclined; they’re motivated by
opinions and polls, and if they enact policies and expenditures that go against
the shareholder majority, they may lose their seats in the administration.”

Alex: “Politics, you mean.”

Frank: “Yes. Exactly. And so, you must also understand that
any information you reveal today that goes against the
Quanta
missions
may never go beyond this room.”

Alex: “So you would let Quantum Resources continue down a
path doomed to failure rather than set them straight? All for politics?”

Frank: “I’m afraid that’s not my call, but if that’s the
final decision, it will come from the CEO’s offices.”

Alex: “It will cost lives.”

Frank: “That’s why I’m here. I want to know everything you
know so that we can prevent future accidents.”

Alex: “Nothing I say at this point will help you.”

Frank: “Now, Alex, please be reasonable.”

Alex: “…Do you believe that I was able to put myself into a
quantized state when I was in the Centauri system?”

Frank: “The consensus with the department heads indicated
that what you think happened may be a result of disorientation or fatigue.”

Alex: “But what do
you
think?”

Frank: “I’m not certain there is any way to verify your
story. I mean, it would go a long way if you could quantize yourself again and
allow our scientists to observe the effects.”

Alex: “I used up all the Kinemetic radiation in my system in
Centauri. And it’s also not something I can do here on Earth—there’s too much
geomagnetism on a planetary body. If I was recharged, and back in space, I
think I might be able to do it again.”

Frank: “That might be a difficult request to fulfill, Alex.
There are many people in key roles who cautioned against letting you go on the
first mission. They are using the failure as leverage to forward their own
agendas and to ensure your removal from the program.”

Alex: “What you are saying is everyone has already made up
their minds.”

Frank: “Not everybody, but enough of them to make your
request difficult to grant.”

Alex: “So what does this mean for me?”

Frank: “I’m sorry, Alex. I’ve been instructed to tell you
that if you cooperate, and reconfirm your non-disclosure agreement, we can
offer you a generous compensation package. You’ll never have to worry about
money again for the rest of your life.”

Alex: “What if I refuse?”

Frank: “Well, as far as the world knows, Alex Manez is a
seasoned pilot for the Canadian Space Force on loan to NASA, and who is of a considerably
more mature age. We even have a digital composite image of a few actors made up
for the press release and any future interviews. There’s no possible way we can
reveal to the world that we let a teenager lead the
Quanta
mission. That
would be a public relations nightmare.”

Alex: “I don’t like to be threatened.”

Frank: “I don’t like to make threats. So what will it be?”

Alex: “I want the agreement all in writing, then I’ll tell
you the rest of what happened out there.”