Star Carrier (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 3) (6 page)

He generated a dismissive snort. “Don’t worry so much about trifling details. You have to keep your eyes on the big picture. Don’t you even want to know why I summoned you?”

“Please tell me,” I said tightly.

“We ordered Halsey to leave you behind. We wanted you here, in defense of Earth. He argued against it, but the Council thought it was for the best. Does that make you feel any better?”

My eyes narrowed as I took in this information. “I guess it is flattering… in a way. Why would you request something so specific?”

“Because we trust you—more than we trust Halsey or that odd duck Vogel, certainly.”

I could well understand that, but I had trouble putting the rest of their motivations together.

“You wanted me and my ship to remain here, standing guard over Earth?”

“Exactly. What if another ship shows up from the Stroj? We’re building another task force, naturally, but it might not be finished before they appear.”

Nodding, I was beginning to see. “This trust is due to the fact that I was critical in stopping their previous assaults.”

“Yes,” he said. “Star Guard is as full of cobwebs as my Council. They aren’t used to thinking on their feet, to taking difficult, drastic action. If it were left to them, this planet might well be slag by now. You’re not like the rest of them. You take action reflexively.”

“I thank you for your confidence, sir.”

“You’re welcome. But as to why you’re here… the Council wasn’t unanimous. Before Halsey’s fleet is allowed to leave the Solar System, they voted to bring you here to undergo a thorough examination. The examination had to be a surprise.”

“What kind of examination? For what purpose?”

“To see if you were a Stroj or not, of course. Dr. Peis, who you’ve already met, performed the medical analysis personally. You’ll be glad to hear she’s cleared you as one hundred percent human.”

“That’s gratifying,” I said with barely concealed sarcasm.

As we spoke, we’d reached the end of a very long, dim-lit passageway. The only route forward was a broad, curving stairway of cut stone. He began climbing these steps, and I walked beside him.

Looking up, there seemed to be no end to the winding stair. The Chairman was old beyond measure, but his legs carried him upward with a steady, plodding pace.

Behind us, as silent as ghosts, a team of agents followed. They never seemed to take their suspicious eyes off me.

“Chairman,” I said as we climbed, “I’m still not clear on how this group is exerting your will over our government. As best as I can understand it, you’re a private citizen of Earth. Correct?”

He shrugged and looked bemused. “Technically, yes. I suppose that’s true.”

“You might be the leader of this private entity, this Council of yours, but there’s a government in charge of our planet, an official body of Public Servants.”

“Ah!” he said. “Now I understand. You’re laboring under a number of misconceptions—that’s through no fault of your own, Sparhawk. I don’t blame you for this rude display. You simply don’t understand the nature of your role in our society.”

I blinked in confusion. “Would you care to enlighten me then, sir?”

He appeared to think about it.

“All right,” he said at last. “But let me warn you, this level of knowledge comes with grave risks.”

“Are you threatening a naval Captain of Star Guard?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, I do believe that I am. You’d do well to listen to that warning and take it very seriously. We wouldn’t want our best starship captain to be deleted as an unperson. That wouldn’t do at all.”

“An unperson?” I asked, baffled by the term. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

The oldster leered at me with an odd mixture of amusement and triumph.

“
Exactly
, you young fool! An unperson is precisely that—an individual that has been erased from the consciousness of our world.”

“Are you suggesting a death sentence?”

“Death? No, no. I’m talking about something far more drastic. Death is a much less devastating penalty. Insignificant for the worst offenders.”

“I don’t understand.”

The Chairman nodded and worked his mouth for a moment in thought.

“Let me put it this way,” he said, sidling another pace closer.

I resisted an urge to back away. The man was menacing in a manner that belied his size and age. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice my aversion.

“The words of a dead man,” he said carefully, “are often remembered. Perhaps they are remembered even more clearly than his words were recalled while he lived. Worse, a dead man’s relatives and followers are bound to simmer with resentment.”

Thinking that over, I could understand what he was saying in theory.

“Death penalties are tools, certainly,” he continued, as if giving a lecture on the topic. “For some individuals, people who have been deemed mundane irritants by society, it’s a suitable punishment. But I’m talking about a criminal so dangerous, so disruptive, that they must be removed entirely. In such a case, death is insufficient and even archaic.”

“But what else is there?” I asked.

“We have another tool to be used under such extreme circumstances. We can transform a citizen into an
unperson
—a deleted individual who’s been eradicated from existence. Such an entity was once human, of course, but they no longer reside in the minds of the population at large.”

I wasn’t entirely following the elderly man, but what I was getting from his words sent a cold worm of concern through my guts.

Could it be that the Council actually had the power to remove a man from existence? How could such an act be accomplished?

Almost unconsciously, I reached back to the base of my neck. My fingers probed the fleshy bulb of the implant that protruded there.

Those who guided Earth’s net traffic had the means to project realities into our minds, I knew that much. At one point last year, the Stroj had even hacked into my implant and used it to lure me into a trap.

We Earthers used our implants as powerful tools. We could communicate at will with anyone on the net. We could do more than talk to others—we could
experience
them.

A person who wished to speak with me could appear at my side, detectable only by my senses. When they did so, they seemed as real as the furniture they sat upon. Earthers were accustomed to this technology, and we took it for granted.

But what if there was another, darker side to it all? What if our minds could be
edited
, as well as presented with fresh input?

I blinked and considered these thoughts. All the while, the oldster at my side watched my face with narrowed eyes and a knowing, thin-lipped smile.

“Yes…” he said. “You
are
the clever one. You’re beginning to grasp what I’m talking about. A man in your position would do well to understand the true way of things. But that’s not to say you should become an evangelist for new-think. There’s no call for that! Secrets are secrets for good reasons. These thoughts you’re having now—they must stay within your skull. Do you understand me, Captain Sparhawk?”

“I believe that I do, sir,” I said quietly.

The Chairman nodded, satisfied. He brushed the back of my hand with his cold, leathery fingers.

“Good… excellent! I knew you were of the best stock. Nothing radical about you! Our hopes have become dependent upon the rise of gentlemen of fiber such as yourself, you understand. We’re too frail to return to the stars ourselves.”

“Just so, sir,” I murmured, watching him as one might watch a venomous snake.

“Now, young William, you may take your leave. Fly your captured ship! Take the role of Earth’s guardian while Halsey shepherds the bulk of our new fleet. Nothing less than the fate of the home world rests upon the shoulders of officers like you. And remember, as far as the Council goes, mum is the word. We don’t exist. You were never here.”

I nodded stiffly, and he left me then. The House guardians who’d been following us like ghosts guided me out of the echoing mansion.

Recalling the coldness of the Chairman’s touch and the thoughts he’d left lingering in my mind, I was uncomfortable all the way back to House Sparhawk.

An
unperson.
The term kept rattling about in my head. Had I known any of them? Had I forgotten certain individuals, at one moment or another, who’d risen up to denounce the powers that ran Earth?

I could not recall such a person—but that proved nothing. It didn’t mean they’d never existed. Quite possibly, at some point in my lifetime, the Council had gathered and declared a noisy malcontent to be unacceptable. As a result, I couldn’t recall anything about them to this day.

Such power! To be able to remove an individual from the minds of everyone on my green Earth… the mere concept was unsettling.

Naturally, I couldn’t
know
that this had happened, but I strongly suspected that it had. Why else could Earth’s recent past be so dull? In our texts, we’d learned of revolutions and rebellions throughout history. But to my knowledge there’d been no such upheavals for more than a century—not since the days immediately following the Cataclysm.

The impenetrable secrecy of this shadow-council seemed to be proof of their power over the minds of others. How else had they hidden themselves all this time? How had they been forgotten and yet continued to rule?

They clearly ran Earth, but that fact was shrouded from the public. The only way conceivable that such a massive deception could be perpetrated was a tool like the one the Chairman spoke of—a wholesale editing of public knowledge.

Had someone discovered the Council in the past and attempted to reveal them? It seemed highly likely given the number of years and individuals involved.

And yet, up until the point Aunt Grantholm had introduced me, I’d never heard of the Council. The only conclusion was that such people had become “unpersons” for their actions.

The worst part was in
knowing
I’d probably forgotten about such souls. It left me with a feeling of loss and violation.

I doubted I’d ever recapture my lost memories. If at any point an unperson had left an impression upon me, that impression had been forever erased from my mind. It was indeed as if such a person, such a rebel from the past, had never existed at all.

The more I turned these disturbing ideas over in my mind, the more alarmed I became with the concept of an “unperson.”

These chilling thoughts would not leave my mind, as much as I wanted them to.

-8-

When I arrived at last at House Sparhawk, it was early morning. I was greeted enthusiastically. Sparhawk Agents were everywhere dressed in forest green. They nodded and gave me wintery smiles before their eyes went back to roving over the landscape, looking for threats.

A woman named Jillian was their leader. Unlike many Great Houses and the Council, we Sparhawks didn’t employ specially bred agents. Our people were trained, rather than designed, for their jobs.

“Glad to see you made it home, sir,” Jillian said. “We found your air car in the forest—the driver was dead.”

“Yes,” I said, “I was detained.”

“Can you tell me why you were held?” she asked with honest concern.

I thought about that. The Chairman must have known I’d face questioning of this sort. It took me a moment to edit my story in my mind. I was accustomed to telling the truth, but in this instance I’d have to leave out some portions.

“We landed in a forest against my orders. I found myself locked in the back seat and unable to escape.”

Jillian looked astonished and upset. “What of the driver?”

“I killed him myself. He was in on it.”

“I’m so sorry, sir!”

“So am I. You must scan those in your employ. Remove any suspected of disloyalty.”

She nodded and compressed her lips tightly. “I will, sir. Again, you have my apologies. I see bruises… are you injured?”

“I reached another house and was cared for. I’m fine. Now, if you might be so kind as to step aside…”

“One more thing, here are your personal items. They were left at the scene.”

She handed me my cloak, my sword and my sidearm. I took them gratefully and put them on. I felt better once I was armed again.

Jillian clearly wished to ask me more questions, but I wasn’t in the mood. I strode to the front doors, and they swung open inwardly before me. Jillian followed.

“Have you seen Chloe of Astra?” I asked her. I asked this casually, as I wasn’t certain if she was in on this kidnapping affair or not.

“She arrived last night saying she was here to meet you. She waited the night.”

“Ah, excellent. I’ll have to apologize for missing our appointment.”

“Uh, sir—you have another visitor.”

I swung around, pivoting on the heel of my boot.

“Who?”

“Lieutenant Zye of Star Guard. She heard about your disappearance and—well, we couldn’t say no to her.”

“I’m not surprised. Thank you, Jillian.”

Dismissed, but clearly agitated, I left her at the entrance. It was her job to make sure I was protected while on Earth, and I could tell she wasn’t happy about failing at that task. Still, I thought it better to move on and not get near the details of my visit with the Chairman. The risks were too great.

My parents were glad to see me and made an effort to be welcoming. They interviewed me with worried glances tossed to one another. Interestingly, neither of them asked much about where I’d been during the night which made me wonder if they knew about the Council.

How could they not? My father had been a Public Servant for six decades. My mother had been at his side during a hundred political campaigns. All of us danced around the details, and I thought that was probably for the best.

“Such an ordeal…” my mother said at last. “Perhaps you should retire immediately to your quarters.”

“I thought you were heading to Asia…?” I said questioningly.

“We heard of your disappearance and returned.”

“Of course,” I said, wondering how things had really gone. “What of Lady Astra? Is she here waiting for me or not?”

They traded glances again. Their eye-contact was very brief but very telling. They’d been together for so long, it was almost as if they had a single mind when they were busy manipulating events.

“She’s here,” my father admitted. “But we were under the impression that you two had broken off your affair.”

There it was, out in the open. I looked from one of them to the other, aghast.

“You haven’t told her of my arrival, have you? Were you hoping I’d come home so fatigued I’d flop into bed and forget she existed?”

“Let’s not be dramatic, William, please,” my mother said.

Standing and walking away from the plush settee I’d been sitting on, I exited the room. I wasn’t in a good mood. I’d been abused by the agents of people who shouldn’t exist, and I wasn’t interested in entertaining my parents’ incessant scheming.

Ignoring their calls behind me, I strode up the stairs. I headed directly to the guest quarters, automatically selecting the suites reserved for the most important persons.

After tapping on the door, I tried the handle and found it unlocked.

Stepping inside, I called for Chloe.

“Lady Astra, are you here?”

I heard a splashing sound from the bathroom. The door stood ajar. She came out, dripping wet, holding a towel to herself. It covered only the essentials.

Both of us eyed one another in surprise. I knew I shouldn’t be looking at her lovely skin, but I couldn’t help myself.

“William! I had no idea you were home.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I would have called, but my implant isn’t functioning. I’ll wait outside until you’re dressed.”

“Nonsense. Come in, come in.”

Awkwardly, I found a chair and perched on it while she vanished into the bathroom and dried herself off.

During this time, the door to the suite cracked open, and Jillian poked her head inside. I waved her off crossly and closed the door again. She tapped at it, but I locked it in response. After a time, she went away.

She’d probably been sent up here by my parents bearing some message designed to distract me. I wasn’t interested. Jillian had had her chance to affect today’s events, and as far as I was concerned, she’d failed to do so.

When Chloe came out at last, she was informally dressed but undeniably lovely to behold. Her hair was tied back and unadorned, but I barely noticed. Her gown caught the light, as it had no doubt been designed to do, reflecting the chandeliers with a sparkling effect. I was unable to tell if the gown was enhanced with optical effects or made of spun gossamer. Either way, I found it enchanting.

She smiled at my admiring gaze.

“Do you like it?” she asked. “It’s a new style from the orbitals.”

“I love it. Would you like to go out with me?”

She paused and blinked. “Now?”

“Yes. Immediately. I find this environment oppressive.”

She cocked her head to one side and looked mischievous. “You’re doing this to distract me. You don’t want to tell me where you’ve been. It won’t work. I want to know everything.”

Hmm
, I thought to myself. It was going to be difficult to avoid any kind of explanation for my absence. I suspected my parents knew what was happening—but I was just as sure that Lady Astra didn’t.

“That wasn’t my intent,” I said honestly. “I’m annoyed with my parents, and I’d rather leave the House.”

“In that case, you can take me out to dinner tonight,” she said. “But first, you must tell me who you spent the night with. Was she pretty?”

“Not in the slightest,” I said, thinking of the ghastly Dr. Peis. “It wasn’t like that, Chloe. Really.”

She looked baffled now. She shook her head. “So all this talk of being waylaid by rogues from a rival House is true? I had no idea. I’m so sorry! Do you know who they were? Is there a feud brewing?”

I thought about the Chairman and the other Council members. I doubted they came from any particular House. They were a collective of people who’d passed on from the public eye. I had no doubt they were somehow related to all of us—but they no longer circulated among even my elite slice of society.

“I wouldn’t want a feud with them,” I said truthfully.

She came close then, and she ran her hand over my cheek. She looked concerned. She discovered my swollen flesh, which had been masked by sprays and treatments, but some of the injuries were still visible under scrutiny.

“You’ve been injured!” she said in surprise and outrage. “This is about your position in the Guard, isn’t it? Sometimes I hate my own peers.”

“Sometimes I do as well. I can’t talk about it. Please understand.”

She nodded slowly. “I do, unfortunately. Politics… It ruins everything. We have so much wealth and power, but we still mistreat one another.”

I noticed then that her hand had stayed in contact with my face. Her nearness was intoxicating. I moved on her then, without thought or plan. In truth, I’d never fallen out of love with Chloe of Astra.

She allowed me to kiss her lightly, but after melting for a few moments, she suddenly stiffened, and I felt her small hands pressing me back.

I retreated a half-pace. My breathing was accelerated.

“I know you to be a man of your word,” she said. “I trust that in you. Tell me one last time, did you spend the night with some painted girl from the city?”

“I most certainly didn’t,” I said with a decisive tone. “I’ve enjoyed nothing about my return to Earth thus far.”

She eyed me critically for a few seconds, then nodded and pressed herself against me.

“I believe you,” she said, “and I’m going to change your luck right now.”

Events proceeded rapidly. I found she was wearing nothing beneath that flashy gown, which made me think she’d suspected how our meeting might conclude.

We made love gently at first, then with urgency. At last, I found I was glad to be back on Earth.

Some hours later, when we tried to sneak out, we were waylaid by my mother.

“William,” she called. “Lady Astra!”

We paused, and her smile bathed us in false warmth. “Are you two trying to escape so soon?”

“Not at all,” I said. “We were merely stepping out to the city. I’m sure you understand, mother.”

Her eyes slid back and forth between the two of us, gathering information like two searchlights.

Chloe looked slightly embarrassed. We were holding hands, and my mother’s gaze lingered on our intertwined fingers.

“I see,” she said. “No one is interested in our Chef’s finest? We’re having—”

“No, mother,” I said firmly. “We want to go out. I’ve only just returned.”

“I understand,” she said with a sigh. “Home is always boring to the young. All right then, I won’t trouble you further.”

“I’m so sorry, Lady Sparhawk,” Chloe gushed. She clearly wasn’t used to being in the role of a girl dragging a son away from his mother.

“Don’t be, Chloe. I was just like you eighty years ago. Enjoy yourselves—I’m sure you will.”

I glanced at her sharply as she spoke these last words. They seemed to be delivered in a sarcastic tone. She had to be aware I’d spent hours in Chloe’s quarters alone with her. Perhaps she was annoyed at the fact.

Deciding not to take the bait, I forced a smile and pressed on. Chloe’s hand was still in mine, so she was swept along after me.

At the door to the carport on the roof, my father sat in his hover-chair. I swallowed, knowing that brushing by him might be even harder.

“Hello father,” I said, “good of you to see us off.”

His eyes were calculating and concerned. “May I have a private word before you go, son?” he asked.

That last caught me by surprise and stopped me in my tracks. He rarely referred to me directly as his son. He’d never been completely happy with my career choices. Among the rich and powerful of Earth, military officers had long been considered of low rank.

“I’ll wait in the car for you,” Chloe said, hurrying out into the afternoon sunshine.

I watched her go wistfully, and I saw that she was escorted into the back of our finest vehicle. My parents rode in it personally when they attended state affairs.

“What’s the problem, father?” I asked.

He beckoned for me to lean close. I glanced around, not seeing an agent within easy earshot, but I crouched beside his hover-chair and leaned close.

“I know where you’ve been,” he said in a low voice. “I know who you’ve spoken to.”

Not knowing how to respond, I said nothing.

He nodded. “Yes, I see in your eyes you understand your peril. Listen to me, William of Sparhawk. You’re my only offspring, and I don’t want to create a new one at my age.”

He reached out a hand and squeezed mine. “I don’t want to forget a son. Not again.”

My mouth fell open, then I closed it again.

“That won’t happen, sir,” I said.

“Good. See that it doesn’t. Be careful about Lady Astra as well. She’s a politician now, remember?”

I left him in his chair without responding. I didn’t know what to say. Could he be right? Could Chloe be renewing our love affair for political reasons? The thought was disheartening to say the least.

But far more disturbing than that were his hints concerning the past. Had he once conceived an heir and lost him? Had such an individual been erased from public memory?