Edge of Tundran Space, Standard Year 403 after founding

  The hostage exchange was planned to take place on the edge of Sarayan space and tensions were running high. The Tundrans continued to treat the Sarayan miners with relative respect but it was clear they were getting more nervous as they drew closer to Sarayan space. Historically, Sarayans cooperated for prisoner exchanges. But then, Sarayans were accustomed to winning. It was hard to predict what the Sarayans would do if the tide turned. And with D12’s commanding officer publicly declaring herself a traitor of Saraya, the civilian miners of D12 were less than popular back home. Saraya had agreed to the exchange, they could hardly reject it given the incredibly favorable terms, but their lack of enthusiasm was palpable.

  As their destination neared, the Tundran crew grew noticeably more tense, relying more on their weapons when directing the civilian miners. Tom, the de facto leader of the remaining group, did his best to keep the tensions to a minimum, reassuring the increasing jumpy Sarayans stuffed into the tightly crowded space of the Tundran ship. He wasn’t sure how the Black Hawk had gotten them the generous space they needed, but the space they were given on the new Tundran ship was far less generous. By the time one of the Tundran crew members walked in and said “It’s time.” Tom could do nothing but breathe a deep sigh of relief. If their trip lasted much longer, he was afraid real disaster would strike. Keeping forty miners under control in the crowded, uncomfortable conditions of the Tundran ship was getting to be beyond his abilities.

  Without thinking much about it, Tom followed Alanna’s example, bringing up the rear as the Tundrans led the relatively large group of miners to their new destination. Glenda, who had done so much already to keep the crew relatively calm and under control, fell into step behind him.

  “Just a little bit longer now.” She said softly under her breath. “We’ve almost made it, Tom. And against all odds, too.”

  “Against all odds.” Tom agreed with a slight smile. His smile faded as he saw the small shuttle that appeared to be their final destination.

  “It’s all they sent.” One of the Tundrans said, a note of apology in his voice. “They only sent us four hostages, so this shuttle was all we got. And we don’t have any shuttles to spare, nor do we think they’re going to give them back. So, you’ll have to make do.”

  Predictably enough, the flight back was hell. With a great deal of effort, they all fit. Tom and Glenda went last, as before. The shuttle doors pressed in on them as they closed, barely leaving enough room to breathe. Tom didn’t have the chance to ask how long it would be before they reached their destination, but he knew the time would be measured in hours, not minutes. The life support on the shuttle wasn’t made for so many people, and there was barely enough room to stand. Tom was close to passing out from the lack of oxygen by the time they finally docked on a Sarayan ship, over five hours later. Even after the engines shut off and they had clearly arrived, the Sarayans took their time to let them out, and the greeting they received was far from enthusiastic. Within minutes, Tom found himself inside of a Sarayan interrogation cell, the drugs sometimes referred to as a truth serum running through his veins. The truth serum was far from perfect, but it was enough to terrify Tom, his heart beating and his body drenched in sweat as he did his best to answer the questions without giving away too much, his head swimming and the world around him spinning and twisting as it passed.

  When it was over, they were all back in the docking bay, just as they had been on the two Tundran ships. And the docking bay doors were just as locked. Tom collapsed next to Glenda. They had been left alone, but none of the Sarayan crew members seemed particularly friendly, and no supplies were provided. At least they weren’t in jail, he thought with a quiet sigh. He managed not to mention the murder of Captain Mace. At least, he thought he managed it. His memories of the experience were fuzzy at best, nonexistent at worst.

  It felt like an eternity before they felt the ship’s engines turn off, signaling what Tom hoped was their return to Sarayan orbit. When the Sarayan crew members came for the miners, Tom felt the same familiar fear he had experienced on the Tundran ship, perhaps even more so. They had all done their best, but until he sat his foot on Sarayan soil, until he could lose himself in the purple and green trees of the Sarayan forests, none of it seemed over. Tom was deeply aware that they could all yet have some terribly unfortunate accident before reaching the planet. With the way the Sarayan crew was treating them, such an event would be viewed as deeply convenient.

  Phoenix City, Standard Year 403 after founding

  They were herded from the Sarayan ship into another shuttle, just barely larger than the first, and transported unceremoniously to the local space port in Phoenix City. Tom Fiel was home. It was the oxygen that hit him first, after nearly three years breathing space station air, it was like a physical force, pouring into his lungs as he walked off the overcrowded shuttle. The scent of flowers and growing vegetation and near hundred percent humidity made him feel as if he were breathing in the entire planet, the heat, the water, the plants, and most importantly, the oxygen. He breathed deep, feeling slightly light headed from relief. It felt like being alive.

  The Sarayan shuttle port was housed on a platform of poured concrete, at least ten feet thick to avoid the invasive vegetation growing all around them. The giant trees of Saraya, many reaching hundreds of feet into the air, had been cleared to make room for the shuttles. Tom knew the perimeter was secured by motion detectors and an electrocuted barbed wire fence, all hidden deep within an impenetrable barrier of dark purple bushes that were both thorned and poisonous, reaching at least forty feet up into the air.

  “Mr. Fiel, Mr. Fiel! Would you care to comment...”

  Tom paused, overwhelmed by the crowd of reporters elbowing their way towards him. “Uh, no comment.” He said in confusion.

  Glenda walked by his side as he continued on towards the exit. With a wink, she turned her broadest smile towards the reporters and waved. “We are so incredibly grateful to be home, safe and sound.” She sang out. “The minute I breathed Sarayan air, I knew we’d made it. I know I speak for everyone here when I say how eternally grateful we are to the Sarayan government for their…”

  Tom tuned her out. Glenda’s family had been coaching her on how to handle the situation and she clearly had it under control. He had also been in touch with people back home too. Their communications had been unblocked for days. During that time, he asked Molly, the mother of his future child, to stay home rather than coming out to meet him at the shuttle port. There was no need for them to be photographed or recorded together, he thought. Glenda was ever the optimistic social butterfly but Tom was feeling a bit more reticent about all their futures back on Saraya. Some of what he heard left him concerned. Alanna’s renunciation of Saraya had made its impact.

  “Tom.” Glenda leaned over and spoke into his ear, still waiving happily towards the camera. “Let’s catch up in a few days?”

  “Sure.” Tom nodded, settling his duffel bag more comfortably onto his shoulder as he walked out towards the exit, and freedom. He desperately wanted out of all of it. The mining, the space travel, the shuttle port. Maybe he would take up commercial fishing. Taking his chances out there on the poisonous, open water.

  “Tom.” Glenda’s insistent voice cut through his reverie. “I want you to meet my aunt.” Glenda waved one hand enthusiastically, while pulling Tom forward with the other. “Aunt Sophie, over here!” She called out. “My illustrious aunt.” Glenda added more softly, leaning towards Tom’s ear. “On your best behavior now, Tom Fiel.”

  Somewhat sourly, Tom watched ‘Aunt Sophie’ as she walked towards them. Even with the warning Glenda had provided, Aunt Sophie was a bit of a surprise. He wasn’t sure what it was about her. She was dressed similarly to everyone else. She wore loose tan cotton slacks and a well tailored green shirt. Her reddish brown hair, piled seemingly carelessly on top of her head, was lightly streaked with gray. It was the way she carried herself that stood out. There was a kind of quiet, unassuming self confidence that came with knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that you had money and power.

  “Sophia Hudson.” The woman nodded with a slight smile, holding out her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Tom Fiel.”

  “Uh, pleasure to meet you as well, ma’am.” Tom said politely, somewhat taken aback. It wasn’t at all what he’d expected of Glenda’s aunt, illustrious or not.

  “I’m sure you’re exhausted from your trip. Welcome home.” She nodded again in his direction, before putting her arm around Glenda and leading her off.

  With a shrug, Tom continued on. He had nearly three years’ worth of backpay in his bank account and needed a night to collect himself before going home to Molly or anyone else. He took a taxi for a good hour, going to the far outskirts of Phoenix City, and checked into a small, remote hotel. The hotel rooms were housed within a small grove of trees surrounding a placid green pond. Saraya had very few manmade structures. There was no need, when hollowed out trees often offered the perfect, ready made shell for human housing. He liked this place because it offered one room to a tree, providing a degree of privacy. Tom wanted his privacy. He wanted to think. But first… locking the hotel door behind him, he dropped his bag in the middle of the floor and nearly ran towards the bathroom. With water. Real, flowing water. For all its poisonous dangers, all he could think of was the lure of a real, water filled shower.

  About two hours later, Tom sat out under a dark, radiation proof tarp that hung over the tree branches above his tree and looked out towards the placid pond. Insect netting made of heavy duty metal surrounded the outdoor space, allowing him to enjoy the fresh air without being devoured by the local wildlife. He had already polished off two plates of food, real earth grown food that burst with flavor as it hit his tongue, and was now enjoying a smoke while finishing his beer. His computer was sitting on a small table by his side, next to the empty plates. The soft sound of President Lorelai Achly’s melodious voice could be heard over the deafening chatter of birds, insects, and reptiles.

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  “The unforgiveable betrayal perpetrated upon Saraya by Lieutenant Alanna Summers will never, never be forgotten. Sarayans, as always, stand united against the threat of Tundran aggression.”

  Tom turned slightly at the sound of Alanna’s name.

  President Achly’s voice continued smoothly from the speakers. “Such betrayals are rare, and my fellow Sarayans, I promise you, they will not go unpunished. Never for a moment think that those who have chosen to side with our enemies are beyond our reach. Our reach extends, and will forever extend, across our entire solar system. The minor setbacks perpetrated against us by our enemies will not stop us. We will not give up. We will not give in. Our manifest destiny to rule this world will not be stolen from us. We, are Sarayan.” Her voice continued silkily. “But we are not without mercy. Alanna Summers’ only family has been the orphans at our local orphanage, housed in the ninth sector, in the far northwest portion of our beautiful capital. While we all know that a traitor’s family, their relatives and friends, are never blameless, I encourage you to show some mercy. They are, after all, entirely defenseless in the face of our anger. Whatever blame they bear, should be limited.”

  Tom looked down, noticing that his glass of beer was empty. Moving it aside, he took another drag of his cigarette, smoking it down until it was burning his fingers before stubbing it out on a plate. He resisted the urge to turn off the sound, forcing himself to keep listening. Their illustrious president had not yet mentioned the miners, but it was coming.

  “As we show mercy to the orphans of Phoenix City, so we must show mercy to the miners of D12, who have returned home to us on this very day. Could they have done better? Could they have done more? We all know the answer to that question. But here again I ask you all to show empathy for our fellow Sarayans. We, all of us, in some small way, can do more. Rather than judging these unfortunate souls, let us all together, look inside ourselves. And let us think about how we all, each and every one of us, can do more. I know I will. Good day, my fellow Sarayans.”

  Well, Tom considered. That was that. And it could have been worse. He looked up in some surprise at the rustle of vegetation under someone’s feet. He had certainly not been expecting company. An unusually beautiful woman walked up, her eyes sparkling in the now setting light of the sun.

  “I couldn’t help seeing you from across the pond.” She said with a broad, toothy smile. “And I noticed you were all out of beer. As it happens, I brought extra, if you’d care for some company.”

  ---

  “You must understand, she is my only niece.” Sophia Hudson explained over lunch the next day. She was sitting across from Daren Alger, her coworker and successor to the post of head archivist and historian for the Executive Office of the President. She invited Daren out for lunch, not wanting to discuss her somewhat sordid family history within the Home Office of the Sarayan President, and they were sitting in the back corner of a quiet café, the faded gray wood walls enclosing them on three sides. She looked out the smallish window over their table at the bustling city beyond. The heavy concrete roads below were laid out in a complex labyrinth, lying between the thick grove of trees that formed the center of Phoenix City. They were sitting at least fifty feet up, and she was enjoying the view. The large, green leafed tree within which their café was situated, included excellent elevator service to their secluded location. Sophia raised her head to capture the cool breeze as the air conditioner cranked up another notch in its efforts to cool off the space. It had been unseasonably hot, even by Sarayan standards, and she was looking forward to the rains. “She graduated from university with a degree in geology.” She continued. “I never imagined she would choose a post like D12. She didn’t have to. But then, it’s difficult to predict sometimes, what a child will do. You don’t have any children, do you Daren?”

  “No. Not yet.” Daren said with a slight smile.

  “Well nor do I, of course. But still, she is family.” Sophia shrugged. “My sister does her best. I appreciate your advice in this matter.”

  “Of course.” Daren nodded.

  Sophia frowned slightly, sipping her juice. Daren had been invaluable in helping her navigate this fiasco. Privately, she fully realized that having her niece involved with the miners of D12 was an unmitigated political disaster. D12’s commanding officer had died under suspicious circumstances and Alanna Summers, currently the most famous traitor in the solar system, had been instrumental in negotiating their return to Saraya. With friends like that, who needed enemies? It was Daren who recommended she recuse herself from the situation entirely, leaving it to him to handle the fallout. And miracle of miracles, he had done it.

  It would not have been easy to sell the message of mercy to Lorelai Achly, but Daren had, in his quietly competent way, succeeded quite brilliantly. The cause of Sophia’s trepidation was that she did not understand why. In fact, it would have been the best possible time for Daren to step up and eliminate her entirely. He was only ten or so years her junior. Handsome, suave, and quite brilliant. Surely, he must be impatient to take on the post he had been training for all this time? And if she were honest with herself, he was more than ready. In fact, she found herself relying more and more on his expertise, rather than the other way around. And yet, most uncharacteristically in the cutthroat world of Sarayan bureaucracy, Daren Alger seemed content to wait, somehow entirely lacking in ambition after making it to the second highest post achievable for someone with his background and credentials. Sophia carefully smoothed the frown from her face and brightened her smile another notch.

  “And how is she settling in? Upon her return?” Daren continued, as smoothly as ever.

  Sophia shrugged, hesitant and torn between an answer that was polite and one that was honest. For better or worse, she felt that her relationship with Daren had moved somewhat beyond the mere professional. Now, she owed him. In fact, she owed him a great deal. “She is settling in, of course. The circumstances are – difficult, to say the least. Very difficult and unfortunate.” She repeated, with a sigh. She really was making an utter mess of this. Sophia was a consummate professional when it came to handling the scandals of others. And yet, she found herself woefully unprepared to handle her own mess. Sophia Hudson did not have scandals. It simply wasn’t supposed to happen.

  Daren cocked his head, studying her closely. “As unfortunate as the circumstances are, if the now infamous lieutenant Summers had not negotiated her return, there is every possibility that your niece would be dead.” He took a sip of his own juice. “Or perhaps captured.” He amended.

  Sophia twitched slightly, not quite able to hide her horror at the thought. This was classic Daren. Sometimes, he seemed more interested in her reaction than in documenting historical events for the greater glory of Saraya. It occurred to her that for someone she’d worked with for so long, she knew very little about Daren. He never mentioned family, he rarely mentioned friends. Until now, she had always assumed he was like her, obsessed with his work. But how could someone obsessed with their work fail to take advantage of such a godsent opportunity to move up? “Of course I’m glad she’s home. That she is safe. Glenda is my niece.” She shrugged. “I just wish it had happened under less difficult circumstances.”

  “Are you?” Daren asked.

  Sophia frowned “Am I what?”

  “Glad.” Daren clarified, his eyes focused on her quite relentlessly. “Glad that she is home, in spite of the ever so unfortunate circumstances.” He raised an eyebrow slightly.

  Clearly, Daren was finding the situation most amusing. Sophia sighed. Perhaps he was amusing himself for a while before making his strike. And making himself look more trustworthy in the process, she realized. The sparkling fruit juice she was drinking suddenly tasted bitter on her tongue. After all, Daren had plenty of time. The political fallout from this disaster could go on for years. On the other hand, he could be genuinely helping. There was no way to know. But Sophia was who she was. Certain lines one simply did not cross.

  “I love Saraya.” Sophia said carefully. “But I love my family, as well. They are good people and their safety is, always, a priority. Glenda may have been involved in this unfortunate event, but I am certain she is entirely blameless in the matter.”

  “Life is important.” Daren said.

  It was most uncharacteristic of him, Sophia thought. In fact, she could not recall Daren ever making a subjective moral statement. Daren operated in a world of facts and propaganda for the benefit of Saraya. “Yes.” She agreed somewhat hesitantly, aware of the potential political pitfalls of such a statement. “Life is important. But other things are important, as well.”

  “Are they?” Daren asked. “More important than life? Such as what, out of curiosity?”

  “Well er, the glory of Saraya, of course.”

  “Of course.” Daren agreed, bemusement sparkling quite openly in his eyes. “Let us by all means stipulate it is more important. Anything else?”

  Sophia blinked. She was exhausted and on edge and Daren, to whom she now owed a favor and quite possibly her life, apparently wished to discuss moral philosophy over lunch. It was Tuesday. She had already provided the politically correct response but clearly, Daren wanted more. “Well, freedom, I suppose.” She threw it out there for lack of anything better to say, and regretted it almost immediately. “And living a good life, with the safety and security that comes from a well governed state.” Sophia added hastily.

  “And all glory to Saraya, I’m sure.” Daren said, somewhat sourly.

  “Daren, are you all right?” Sophia asked suddenly, realizing that there may be more here than whatever issues she was having. Daren, also seemed on edge.

  “Couldn’t be better.” Daren said flatly, taking a sip of his own juice. Sophia’s response was the last thing he wanted to hear. Meanwhile, the Tundrans in general and Captain James Hawk in particular, were making friends wherever they went. And while Sophia tended to observe history from a brid’s eye view, his perspective was more concrete. Daren realized there were people on Tundra who would know exactly how to best take advantage of these new opportunities. The Sarayans were damn right to be suspicious of the miners returning from D12. And it was remarkably unfortunate that Sophia’s niece had been one of them. Otherwise, he just might have dropped a word to encourage the extermination of all involved, value of life be damned. There were broader considerations. But then, the whole thing had become a mess. And he was sitting on the sidelines and observing, as usual. Which was, of course, his job.

  “Our job is to observe.” He said suddenly, out loud.

  “Of course.” Sophia agreed, looking at him in surprise.

  “Of course, that is impossible.” Daren mused. “Perhaps an invisible and incorporeal ghost, incapable of interacting with its surroundings, might be able to observe. But those of us substantial enough to speak and feel cannot merely observe. We influence the events around us with every step we take.”

  “Yes. And Daren, I am grateful. Whatever I can do…”

  “No.” Daren shook his head. “That wasn’t what I meant. It doesn’t matter, Sophia.” He got up, trying to shake off the sense of impending danger that had been with him since he heard of the events on D12. “I know you’ve been distracted, but that report you mentioned earlier, if you could share it?”

  “The one about…” Sophia paused, aware of the semi public nature of their location. “Yes of course. Forgive me. I will send it as soon as we return.” Daren took some sort of esoteric interest in any reference to aliens, of all things. And before the Glenda fiasco, she had mentioned seeing a reference in passing, in an investigatory report on an unrelated matter. From what she recalled, it had involved a drug induced hallucination, and she was surprised Daren had remembered and bothered to follow up at all. But then, for better or worse, that sort of meticulous attention to detail was typical of Daren. And she was in no position to leave him waiting.

  “Thank you.” Daren nodded, motioning for her to precede him to the elevator as they walked out of the café.