Rise of the Forgotten Read online

  The murmur returned as the hands shot up. I decided to get it over with and pointed at the Space News correspondent.

  “Alice Bolter, Space News. You mentioned that morphic rights are protected under UEA Charter, yet time and again the UEA parliament has failed to pass any act affirming morphic citizenship, essentially leaving it in a grey area. Isn’t it true that the colonial citizenship being offered under the act would finally give the morphics a firm legal standing in human society that would only allow for better integration?”

  I sighed. “Secondary citizenship is not citizenship, and it is important to remember that the charter states our rights, but does not grant them. Freedom is the natural state for all sapient life, and the UEA Charter stands strong because of that truth. Anything that removes a morphic from direct involvement in their government is a step back, not a step forward. I contend that the Farthest Star Act is as bad for humans as it is for morphics, for this and a myriad of other reasons. That will be the last question I address today on the Farthest Star Act, I have made my position quite clear.”

  I noticed Daniel Rogan raise his hand and I quickly called on him, trying to shift the tone of the press briefing.

  “Yes ma’am, thank you, I would like to restate my question from earlier. Do you know why the Corvaldians neglected to send a delegation to the Gate and are instead waiting until we are well within their territory to facilitate introductions?”

  “An excellent question. I have raised this with our Mendian allies as well, and they have informed me that it is customary among the Corvaldians to welcome new species once they have reached their home planet. They are, according to the Mendians, a post conflict society and have many customs that may seem odd to us.”

  His hand shot up again. “Just a quick clarification, what do you mean by post conflict?”

  “From what I have been told by our Mendian allies, they have gone a millennia without a war.”

  The press corp fell briefly silent at that, and then erupted again.

  “Ambassador!” Alice Bolter near shouted out and the room fell quiet. The predators were acknowledging their alpha.

  “Yes, Alice. Go ahead,” I said, as diplomatic but dismissive as possible.

  “You say the Corvaldians are a post conflict race, but similar could be said of the Mendians, yet still Apocalypse Day happened. How do you respond to organizations like Earth First that feel that the UEA is putting a premium on diplomatic relations and technology over the possible survival of our species?” She was wasting no time going for the jugular.

  “I would like to state without equivocation that the concerns of Earth First are unfounded. We are approaching the twenty year anniversary of the treaty of gates and Apocalypse Day was also almost a decade ago. Our Mendian allies have shown their willingness to co-exist peacefully with Earth through the Treaty of Light of 2082, as well as a continued diplomatic presence represented by this office. Thank you, no more questions today,” I said, and hopped down, making a quick exit.

  “Annoyed, Boss?” Jill said, as I made a direct and deliberate path for my quarters.

  “Just the same old bullshit. They aren’t even bothering to rewrite their questions anymore,” I replied sourly.

  “Their kind of prejudice is a symptom of ignorance and arrogance, Boss. I doubt they really care about delivery,” she said as her tail twitched.

  “Yeah. Back on the Roam, the admiral liked to joke about spacing reporters. Ten years into this, and I finally understand he wasn’t joking.”

  “I imagine most governmental types end up feeling that way. Don’t let it get to you,” she said, as we arrived at my quarters.

  “Yeah, but you have to admit, a special report from the inside of a decompressing air lock would be a hell of a scoop.”

  “Yeah, but messy though. Remember, we are supposed to be the opened minded ones.”

  “I know. I know,” I said, waving a paw dismissively. “Give me about an hour to collect.”

  “Already built into the schedule, Boss.”

  “Roger that,” I said as I slipped into my quarters alone.

  The doors slid shut with a similar feel to those of a prison cell and for a moment, everything seemed so confining. A sudden urge of desperation seized me and I pulled and bit at my harness till its nanocord reasoned out my fumbling and loosened. It crumpled to the floor and I stood there, shivering and alone, wanting nothing more than to be done with all of this.

  Some days the weight just felt so heavy.

  My mind drifted to Charlie, as it often did in these lonely times, to that one special night where we finally became friends, where I finally admitted the growing bond. I could almost feel him comfort me….”Hang in there, lil Hare. You are stronger than you know.”

  I had spent the last ten years desperately hoping he was right.

  The fact of the matter was that no matter the strength I was purported to have, or the leverage that I had within the government, things were not getting better. Each year, Earth First took more seats in parliament and each year, the tensions seemed to grow. Now they were trying to shove the Farthest Star Act down our throats. My head ached with sudden pain and weariness, and I weakly sagged against the wall.

  The Farthest Star Act. A clever bit of legislation titled after a famous line I had made in one of my first speeches years ago. We mostly called it Project Ark, because the principle was largely the same. The UEA was angling to strip morphics of both property and citizenship and then use us to colonize worlds they didn’t want to expend human life on. Of course, that wasn’t the pitch they used. Instead, they billed it as a pathway to integration and a noble sacrifice for those morphics that desired peace. I had fought it for years, but was unable to gain any ground, and now it was finally expected to pass. Treaty of Gates or any other consequence be damned.

  It was that part that was the most troubling. As Earth First claimed more seats, the personality of the parliament began to change. Originally, the UEA had sought to do the Treaty of Gates proper honor, but Apocalypse Day poisoned that well, seemingly in spite of the best efforts of Darnack and myself. Now the Farthest Star Act was on the verge of passing, and it appeared that the hope of the new Earth First parliament was to use the morphics to wedge open the Gates when the Mendians had every reason to withdraw. They were confident the Mendians would never abandon the Shifted Ones of Earth. It was cold, but efficient math, because I had to concede that they had a point.

  The Mendians might be a thousand years ahead in terms of technology, but I had seen no force in the universe so treacherous or apt at politics as the human species. The Menidans were simply outclassed in that respect, technology or no.

  Ten years of fighting, ten years of working with some of the very people that helped cause Apocalypse Day and we were about to lose, and lose big. It haunted me that somehow all this work and loss could come to nothing.

  There were just some days where it didn’t pay to get out of bed.

  I was just getting settled in and enjoying my hour of depressive respite from the drudgery and glamour of a life in the civil service, when a lone red light with an emphatic and incessant beeping began to demand the attention of my brain that felt about two steps from AWOL. I groaned and considered heading to the escape pods for a moment, only to dismiss the idea with a mental grin. It was obviously too late to run anyway.

  Wearily and with the hope that only procrastination brings, I dragged myself towards the red light. I couldn’t even get one hour to myself, I thought, and finally surrendered. Whoever was calling wasn’t about to give up without an answer.

  I yawned and stretched, letting my paw down lazily on the interface. Some kind of electronic wizardry happened and soon, I was piloting the computer with my shiny new neural interface.

  ***Authenticated. Welcome, Snow Dawkins, UEA Special Ambassador to the Mendians***

  I always startled when it kicked in. It was a new sensation, adapting to data streaming across my field of vision, instead of a sc
reen. These new systems were state of the art, allowing for direct interface between a user’s brain and the machine, with no need for any kind of physical interface or input. After enduring the quality of my type-written reports for years, the UEA near tripped over itself to upgrade my systems, and the Danube’s to facilitate this new tech. The joke was on them though; they were still bad, mainly because I just didn’t give a shit. They didn’t want me to write reports anyway; they wanted me to talk to the Mendians.

  An augmented reality overlay filled my vision. A very serious *SECURE TRANSMISSION REQUEST* was flashing in the upper right hand corner of my sight. I tapped it and then the communication system filled the overlay. This interface was nothing, if not slick.

  I held up my paw and a massive jumble of numbers and letters appeared in an entry box just to the left of me.

  *Connection Established*

  A familiar face appeared before me, almost as if he was standing there.

  “Jon Harper, thank God. I thought it was going to be someone important,” I said, deadpan.

  “Nice to see you too, Fluffy. How’s space?” he quipped.

  “About the same.” I ignored the obvious, playful dig. “We are about three weeks out from Corval Prime. The press corps are feral as usual, and I was just discussing with Jill the possibility of spacing some of them out of the airlock.”

  “You want me to shoot her?” he replied, my battles with Space News reporters were apparently becoming legend.

  “At ease, sailor,” I said, the banter taking my mind briefly from the stress.

  “This sailor happens to be the UEA Chief of Ops, former commander of the Second Fleet.”

  “Yes and this ambassador happens to not give a tinker's damn,” I giggled. “Is this just a social call?”

  “I wish it was. As you know, this is Rusch’s last term.”

  “Yeah, I know, and good riddance,” I replied.

  “He isn’t going quietly into that good night though,” Harper replied with a tone of worry.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he’s been meeting with Earth First leaders a lot, but also, with a shadowy corporate type. Do you know much about Erebus Apep?”

  “Only that his corporation pretty much supplies the world with technology. These new nanitic upgrades are from one of their labs.”

  “Yeah, but if Erebus Apep and his corporation are making so much money off of adaptive nanitic tech for morphics, why has he been bankrolling Rusch’s campaign and meeting with his Earth First minders?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t like it. I take it this is all preliminary at the moment?” I said, a tone of worry creeping into my voice.

  “The meetings are happening. I’ve got some friends in intelligence that have been keeping an eye on things since the attempted coup. The one thing we can’t find though is the connection. Between this and the Farthest Star Act, there has to be an angle here that we aren’t seeing. I thought I would reach out to you, and let you know to be careful.”

  “I will Jon. Remember, the Danube is my ship now, her officers are all handpicked by me. This may just be the safest place in the entire UEA for me,” I said, confident in what had become my home.

  “Or the most dangerous. Just don’t let your guard down,” he said. The weight of his concern dragged on my soul like an anchor.

  “Understood. Have your assistant contact Jill, we will meet face to face when I get back Earth side and we can talk about this in depth, and thanks,” I replied.

  “Roger that. Harper, out.”

  I sighed and logged off the system, my vision returning to normal, and quickly made my way back to my small pad and blankets in the corner.

  Working down into the blankets, their familiarity and comfort a salve for my soul, I was just starting to drift. I tried to forget, at least for a little while, that I was anything but a simple civilian, relaxing in her quarters. Just as my mind began to embrace the welcome fiction, the door slid open, light flooding in from the hall, a silhouetted morphic black cat standing against the backdrop of the oppressive invading luminescence.

  “Boss, rise and shine. Hour is up,” she said, with way too much positivity and cheer.

  “Perfect,” I groaned.

  Chapter 3

  The LRRC sat perched in its hangar just before me, almost as if it has been staged as a prop. Its gleaming silver skin almost seemed to ripple as it reflected the light of the room like a mirror. She and I had been together for ten years now. Ten years. They had tried to decommission her, twice, but rank has its privileges. There were newer variants now, the Gen 2’s as they called them, with their rippling black skin that looked far too menacing for my taste. Omega-621 was all elegance, almost as if she were something from another time.

  “I always enjoy this part,” I said, as I hopped beside my assistant, Jill, towards the ramp.

  “I know how much you love your ship, Boss,” she replied. “I was the one that had to file the paperwork to save her last time, you remember.”

  “Yeah, I know, but look at her. There aren’t many left anymore, all gone to scrap, except for the one in the Air and Space Museum at Jerusalem Fleet Academy, the first Higgs field vessel commissioned by the UEA,” I said, as Jill mouthed the words along with me.

  “You aren’t flying today, are you, Boss?” Jill asked, with a tone of nervousness.

  “It’s just a short run, and the systems are safe,” I protested.

  “Yes, you say that, but you don’t get to watch your pilot drool on the console,” she replied.

  “That was a calibration issue and it was fixed!” I shot back, and she giggled.

  “Fine, fine. Let’s get aboard and get this over with.” She always liked to hide her nervousness with humor.

  I hopped on board and let the familiar sounds and smells wash over me. The Danube might be home, but this felt like sanctuary. Something about its close in walls, and familiar consoles made me feel safe.

  “I still wish you would let me fly this thing,” she said, thudding heavily into the co-pilot’s seat.

  “Not my baby,” I replied. “Initiating interface.”

  “Have a nice nap, Boss,” she said, as a grid appeared over my vision. Then I felt a forward pull and suddenly, it was as if I wasn’t in the cockpit at all. Telemetry data and the ship's systems flooded into my brain, and from there, it was as natural as breathing. There was an immediate feeling of comfort and simplicity as my mind focused completely on the task at hand.

  Complete the mission. Acquire data. A faint whisper ran through the edges of my consciousness, an echo of a forgotten thought.

  I then focused; it was time to fly the ship.

  “Danube Actual. Good Morning. This is Ambassador Snow Dawkins, aboard Omega-621; we are strapped in, the board is green. Awaiting launch clearance.”

  “Roger that Omega-621. Proceed to Launch Port A and await decompression,” came the disembodied voice of control.

  “Roger that, moving to Launch Port A.” With just a thought, the LRRC began to move to the launch port; once we landed on the pad, an airlock sealed behind us.

  “Danube Control, in position.”

  “Roger Omega-621. Decompression in progress. Launch in T-Minus twenty seconds.”

  A timer appeared over the field of my vision. The numbers glared out in a lurid red as the timer ticked down.

  10 Seconds…

  5…

  GO! Flashed in green in front of me and like a shot, we were off, rocketing out the back of the ship. The steel grey corridors of government efficiency swept by faster and faster and then, I felt a familiar chill run through my body as we cleared the last bits of the ship and the fullness of space yawned out before me with its infinite mystery.

  I felt liberated, something deep within me, connected to the LRRC, sensed the familiar impulse.

  Run!

  The stars moved around me and again, I took off like a shot, rocketing through space. A grid overlay appeared with navigation (n
av) guidance and I chased after the glowing line before me, moving through space, enjoying the rapture of being out and away from it all. Just ahead, the House Lethine was running just above the Danube in formation. A Mendian appeared before me on the com screen.

  “The Mendia Darnack extends greetings to this honored one of Earth, and is awaiting you in space dock.”

  “Roger that, Lethine. We are within range to begin docking.”

  “Initiating landing procedure, Omega-621.” I saw, and somehow felt, the Mendian grappler beam wrap around the ship and cut the engines. They would take it from here.

  I mentally told the system to disengage from the tactical mode I had it in, and found myself sitting in the cockpit.

  “Good Morning, Boss. Have fun?” Jill said, appearing calm and nonplussed.

  The Mendian ship grew ever larger in the window, and I looked down and noticed a small puddle of drool on the glass console.

  “Calibrated, huh?” she said.

  “Stuff it, house cat,” I replied, as the ship glided through the docking port and landed gracefully in the hangar. “Besides, we have pressing business to attend to.”

  I finished disengaging my mind from the ship, and somehow felt smaller for a moment. A wave of disorientation passed through me. I turned around as the ramp descended, catching a quick glimpse of the stars just outside my window, and felt a brief pang of longing.

  There was just so much freedom out there.

  “Yes, there is Snow. Welcome Shifted Ones of Earth!” A familiar voice sounded through the Link. For the first time in days, I did not feel like I was in contested territory.

  “Hello, Darnack, nice to see you too. Be down in just a moment.”

  There was no honor delegation, not even an assistant, just my old friend of the last ten years waiting for me. He bent down and scooped me up into a hug. My mind briefly went to sudden panic before I felt a chuckle in the Link and he sat me down.