The Phoenix Requiem (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 7) (44 page)

“All right then, my second guess,” said Calvin. “Hmm…
Custos
left us alone because there was something more urgent that it had to do.”

“Also no,” said the captive.

Ah, that time I got a two-word response
, thought Calvin.
Progress
.

“Very well, time for my third guess.
Custos
spared our lives and did not destroy us because
Custos
was unable to destroy us.”

The look in the captive’s eyes changed. He still appeared defensive, but not so obviously annoyed. He seemed to think for a moment before giving his reply to what Calvin had expected to be a simple yes or no question.

“Explain what you mean,” said the captive.

Calvin was delighted. Not only was he getting the captive to vocalize things to him, he also may have stumbled upon something of value. Calvin thought for a moment.
I said, “Custos was unable to destroy us,” and he replied with, “What do you mean?” that implies that, in some way, for some reason, by some definition, Custos was unable to destroy us.
Calvin then thought through various possible explanations for how
Custos
might be unable to destroy them, since the captive had essentially communicated that Calvin was on the right track, but needed to be more specific.

“What I meant was,” said Calvin, “
Custos
did not have the physical power to eliminate these two ships. Perhaps because it had already used up so much of its energy destroying another ship today.” It took a lot of discipline to finish that sentence in a friendly tone and not have his emotions come out regarding the destruction of the
Nighthawk
.

“No,” said the captive. “And since you are obviously going to keep guessing, and that annoys me, if I tell you what the true reason was, do you promise to end this inane and childish game you have subjected me to?”

“Of course,” said Calvin, feeling a massive sense of accomplishment pour through him that he had been so successful at engaging the captive, and had gotten such a long response out of him—not to mention he offered to volunteer the information Calvin was asking for. That didn’t mean the information he was about to give was certainly true, but the fact that it was coming voluntarily did make it more credible, in Calvin’s view, than if it had been forced. “I’d also like to know your name, mine is Calvin.”

“Very well. The reason that
Custos
refused to destroy this pod and the ship it is attached to is because, to its simple comprehension, the instant you sealed the pod to the ship, the two vessels became one. Rather, this pod had become an extension of that ship.
Custos
knows not to interfere with that ship. And so, even though
Custos
knew that something was here that did not belong—namely all of you and this pod—something that
Custos
was supposed to
cleanse
, it obviously realized that, even though it has instructions to cleanse anything like you that wanders into the system, it is also subject to a higher set of instructions, one of which is for it to not interfere with that ship. So, when
Custos
arrived, it had to go through its hierarchy of commands, and then, upon realizing that the one missive outranked the other,
Custos
left, no doubt returning to its regular patrol. As for my name, not that it matters, but I am Ozumire.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ozumire,” said Calvin. “Now, when you say
cleanse
is that any different than the word I would use,
destroy
?” asked Calvin.

“
Custos
cleanses something by capturing it, breaking it into pieces, then breaking those pieces into yet smaller pieces, and so on, until the unrighteous or unworthy thing essentially no longer exists. Of course, when something like a starship is destroyed, some pieces escape after the explosion, but, of the pieces that
Custos
contains, or finds, they are reduced smaller and smaller and smaller.”

“Very interesting,” said Calvin, still maintaining the tone and façade of someone who was as friendly as possible. “You speak of cleansing, and worthiness, and righteousness, and so on; it almost sounds like this place has a kind of spiritual or religious significance to you. That this system, along with The Forbidden Planet, are not exclusively sacred places for the, uh, more
traditional
Polarian religion.”

“You mean the False Ways?” asked the Ozumire.

“I’m not familiar with that—”

Calvin was interrupted by the shout of an impatient soldier behind him. “Hey! Are we going to board and take over this ship or aren’t we?”

Calvin whirled around and pointed at the man in question, he was one of the Rosco soldiers; Calvin did not know his name. “You, you be silent!” said Calvin in an authoritative tone. “Yes, we’re going to board the damn ship, but not until I’m good and ready to do so. Is that clear?”

The man said nothing, just rolled his eyes. That was when Nikolai stepped over next to him.

“Answer question,” said Nikolai, while cracking his knuckles.

“Or what?” asked the soldier. “You’ll punch me in the face?” he smirked. “You know you can’t just control everybody that way.”

Nikolai’s response was to throw a hard punch at the soldier, aimed for the face, just like the soldier had predicted. But, what Nikolai had not expected, was that the soldier, anticipating this move from Nikolai, managed to deflect the punch. Then, using his other hand, send a jab of his own, right into Nikolai’s nose. Causing it to bleed.

“I’m not afraid of you; you’re just a bully,” said the soldier. “That and I’ve been practicing martial arts since I was eleven years old so…by all means…come at me. Otherwise shut your big, dumb ass up and stop telling people what to do.”

“You make very big mistake,” said Nikolai, who raised both of his fists and attacked the soldier, much like a boxer might, swinging and swinging, powerful blows. The soldier was roughly Nikolai’s same height, but much thinner and lighter; true to his word, he did appear to have sufficient martial training that he either dodged or deflected every punch Nikolai sent his way, throwing in a jab of his own, here and there, to show Nikolai that he had a sting of his own, and he was not to be messed with.

“You move fast,” said Nikolai, after backing off a step or two.

“No, you just move too slow.”

“Slow? Me? Not so!” said Nikolai furiously.

“Men, both of you, listen up,” said Calvin, now standing to face them. “Stop acting like
children.
This ends
now
, that’s an order!”

“An order?” the soldier looked at Calvin, as though he had not the slightest respect for him. Calvin made a mental note to get the soldier’s name, so he could share details of this incident with Grady Rosco, once they got back. Calvin highly doubted that this particular soldier, or any who had come along, had been too closely related to the immediate Rosco Family. But still, the Roscos took their reputation very seriously and when they lend out the use of their soldiers, there are certain expectations regarding their conduct. Calvin was certain that Grady would find it
very
interesting to learn of this one’s conduct.

“Yes,” said Nikolai. “Order. He is commander. You are piece of shit. You follow order from commander!”

“So, what are you then, his toady?” asked the soldier.

“What you mean? Toady?”

“It means that you’re his pathetic, crying, groveling, sycophantic yes-man who does his dirty work for him,” said the soldier.

“Okay, that’s enough!” barked Calvin, pointing at the soldier.

The man rolled his eyes. “This coming from the man who is too busy over there making friends with the enemy to bloody remember that we’ve got a mission; we’re supposed to be taking over that ship, remember? Of course you don’t. You’re in hysteria over losing your precious
Nighthawk
. You probably don’t even know what’s going on.”

At that, Calvin’s temper flared. But not so much as Nikolai’s, as was swiftly evidenced. Nikolai went after the soldier again, sending more punches, faster punches, unleashing and letting the soldier have it all, everything Nikolai had. The soldier’s quick reflexes and martial training took over instinctively and he managed to block or deflect every blow; this exchange continued until their arms became entangled, restraining one another.

“I already told you; you can’t beat me,” said the soldier. “It’s a waste of your time. This whole thing is. I say, I’m in charge now, and we takeover that ship without delay!”

Calvin was worried that the other soldiers might be persuaded by this, especially without Nikolai—who no longer seemed invincible—to keep them in line.

But then Nikolai did something the soldier did not anticipate, and for which all of his martial expertise, and his fast reflexes, and everything else he had availed him nothing. As they were still tangled up together, the soldier mostly restraining Nikolai’s arms from continuing to punch at him, Nikolai let out a war cry and head-butted the soldier with so much force, Calvin was sure that both of them had just sustained traumatic brain injuries. But, after a few seconds, Nikolai rose to his feet and dusted himself off. He was still bleeding from the nose, and his face was covered in bruises, and there even seemed to be a cut across his head where he had struck the other soldier.

“Medkit,” said Calvin, pointing. Nikolai nodded as if to say “Thanks” and began patching himself up.

Calvin then looked down at the other soldier, the one who had mocked him and challenged his command. That soldier did not rise. One leg was twitching, seemingly involuntarily, but otherwise he did not move.

“Can you hear me?” asked Calvin.

No response. Except, after a few more seconds, the leg stopped twitching. Then the soldier was no longer moving at all. Calvin checked for a pulse. At first he found one, but it seemed weak. Then, as he called for someone to come over and help, “Anyone, especially if you have any medical training,” the pulse went away entirely. Calvin checked for breathing, then searched for a pulse again. Nothing.

A patched up Nikolai approached; he stood tall, looming large over Calvin, who knelt over the soldier who was sprawled out on the ground.

“Get up, you weakling. Get up and follow orders. And I forgive you.”

“I don’t think he can get up,” said Calvin. “I think…he’s dead.”

Nikolai did not seem saddened by this news. In fact, he seemed even less surprised by it than Calvin had expected.

“If he is dead then he was too fragile, like glass doll. Better without him.”

To Calvin, that seemed kind of cold-hearted but he wasn’t about to argue. Instead, he returned to Ozumire, this time sitting next to him; meanwhile, Nikolai went on some kind of rant for the benefit of the other soldiers, letting them know they could expect the same—or worse—if they defied Calvin again. The soldiers asked anxiously when they would board the ship and Nikolai told them, “When Calvin says so, and not one moment before.”

Calvin appreciated that, but he also knew he only had the luxury of a few more questions, to try and cement this trust relationship with Ozumire, before they would all take their chances and attempt to commandeer the Hunter ship.

“I apologize about all of that,” said Calvin, once he was sitting next to Ozumire.

“
Humans
,” said Ozumire dismissively. “The only sentient space-going species whose first-ever developed orbital weapon systems did not point outward, but inward instead. Amusing. Your kind has not changed much.”

Calvin ignored the offensive remark and instead tried to get things back on track, where they had been. “You were telling me of the religious significance of this place to you,” said Calvin. “Or is spiritual a more accurate word?”

“Your language does not possess the most accurate word, but I shall accept either, religious, spiritual, both are true to an extent,” said Ozumire. “You made a reference to something you called the traditional Polarian religion, did you not?” asked Ozumire.

“I believe I did,” said Calvin. “I don’t remember exactly how I put it, just that—”

“I remember,” said Ozumire. “And what you are referring to, I believe, is the religion of the so-called Essences, have you heard of them?”

“I have,” admitted Calvin; his mind drifted to Rez’nac, and he wondered if his Polarian friend, the mighty warrior, was still alive. Or if he too had been a sacrifice of their effort to purge the Council of Prelains of all the replicants that had infiltrated it and taken control.

“Good, that will make things easier. That
religion
, if it can be called a religion, is known as the False Ways.”

“And what are your ways called?” asked Calvin.

“Oh, they are not our ways,” said Ozumire. “They are merely the Truth. The Truth is what binds, controls, unifies, disrupts, and destroys all things.”

“I see,” said Calvin, getting a better picture of what Rez’nac had meant when he’d said there had been a schism within the Polarian religion. When he said that many of the youth, and some others, had given themselves over to the other religion, with its monotheistic One True God, he must have meant that those Polarians had chosen to adapt the religion of the so-called Dark Ones, such as this captive, and his Truth.