The Zygan Emprise: Renegade Paladins and Abyssal Redemption (49 page)

We launched two of our fusion torpedoes,
followed by hardy micro-robots, one towards each end of the power
line in which we were trapped. Seconds before the torpedoes reached
the ends of the power line and exploded, we X-fanned our ship out
of the cable. The explosions sliced the segment of the power line
we’d just exited off its towers, and the thick cable fell twisting
and flapping towards the ground, sparks flying from each end. The
micro-robots quickly sealed the severed ends of the flailing line
together, turning the power line into a closed figure-eight loop
like a 3-D Mobius strip which preventing the

fleet from flying out. Hovering at a safe
distance, we watched the figure-eight land on a deserted wheat
field, a twisted ring inside which the

orbited endlessly, giving off a circle of green
glowing light.
^xxxviii

And giving me another idea. We tractored the
Möbius strip power line with the imprisoned

to the Moon and parked it at Luna Outpost for
safekeeping while I commed our Chief Gary at Earth Core to clear my
suggestion.

What if we found a way to give the

the fuel they needed to fly through
our sector and get something out of the deal ourselves? Instead of
wasting Zygint time guarding our power lines, we could set up
factories on Earth to build small porous plastic tubes and fill
them with electrons to make a kind of nano-battery. When the

needed to refuel, they could fly to
these tubes, filter through the microscopic pores, fill up their
tanks on the electricity, and release their engine waste. The

waste would then light the tubes
yellow-green for a few hours and we could make a few bucks selling
the tubes.

Gary loved my suggestion and let us pitch it
to the

Consul on Zyga. And so, light
sticks and light ropes were born. A field team from the Zygfed
Bureau of Planetary Advancement developed a dummy front company on
Earth and had the manufacturing plants for the plastic tubes
operational in the US by 1966. Before long, the light sticks and
ropes were everywhere. When needed,

were able to find “gas stations” all over Earth, and Earth never
had a blackout that big again.

Spud wasn’t the type to lavish me with
compliments, but he did say I was ‘a competent magician’, who’d
extracted a lagomorph from millinery.

Or, as my Ergal translated, pulled a rabbit
out of a hat.

* * *

Over the Eastern USA—present day?

“We’ll be touching down in Nea Athina in an
hour,” Hypatia announced as we glided over the Appalachian forests.
My nose was glued to the gondola’s windows, scanning the mountains
below for signs of habitation. I nudged John. “Remember the hike we
took in Shenandoah,” I began.

“Two hundred kilometers south of us,” Spud
interjected, in robot mode. “We are currently near the border of
what was Pennsylvania and Maryland.”

“Where is Nea Athina?” asked John.

“At the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay,” Spud
said. “Not far from what had been Annapolis.”

John nodded. I said nothing. Spud had resumed
talking to us, but our partnership weather was definitely
wintry.

Nea Athina appeared on the horizon as our
blimp turned to the East. Before us glistened a city of marble and
gold, each acre its own Acropolis, with buildings resembling the
Parthenon and the Erechtheum adorned with ornate friezes and
sculptures.

“Capital city,” Spud said.

“It is beautiful,” echoed John.

Annoyed. “No, I meant that it
is
the
capital city.” Spud added, “This USA is a loose federation of
city-states, not unlike a pacifist ancient Hellenic empire. But,
they have realized the value of a central location for resource
distribution and management. Thus, Nea Athina.”

“Oh,” was all John could muster.

* * *

Nea Athina—present day?

We thanked Hypatia as we de-airshipped at
Daedalus Airfield and made our way to the gates. From the ground,
the travertine avenues and marble buildings looked ever more
imposing and ostentatious. Zygint Central, and Mikkin itself,
Zyga’s capital, could learn a thing or two about classical grandeur
from Nea Athina.

“Now what?” John, ever practical, asked.

“Heron has arranged for us to visit a
diviner. He was supposed to have been here to meet us.” Spud
scanned the crowds once again.

“A what?” John asked.

“A diviner. A seer, an alienist,” said Spud.
“Whose insights can help us strategize our best course of
action.”

“We’re a day late. All those stops for the
weather. Maybe he left already.” I shrugged. “You got an
address?”

Spud shook his head. “Heron would only give
me a description of his appearance and his name. Lester Samuel
Moore.”

“Now that’s an unusual name,” John said, “for
around here anyway.”

“Yes, it is singular. We shall have to query
Mr. Moore about it after he arrives.”

“Are there phones or other communication
devices we could use to try to reach him?” I queried.

“Excuse me,” John said to a passing
pedestrian. “Where can I find a telephone?”

The pedestrian frowned. “In the museum of
technology, I suppose,” he said, “on Constitution Avenue.”

John smiled politely. “Capital. And more
modern communications?”

“Ah, you are Xenoi,” the man returned. “Three
blocks down on Independence Avenue.” He pointed to a broad
boulevard on our left. “The Ministry of Intercourse can assist you
during your stay.”

John thanked the Good Samaritan and we set
off as directed to the Ministry of Intercourse. None of us were in
a mood to make the obvious jokes.

* * *

The Ministry of Intercourse looked like a
massive Lincoln Memorial and was filled with visitors seeking
services, and, well, intercoursing. We waited for an hour before a
customer service contributor was available.

“Bureaucracies are an exasperating constant
in a sea of change,” John whispered to me as we sat in line.

“You should see Orion Alpha,” I said, filling
him in on my adventure with Benedict’s nasty lieutenant Burr at the
University of Daralfanoon.

“You met Big Red?” John chuckled. “Wouldn’t
want to run into him in a dark alley unarmed—even if he’s half my
size.”

John shared the tale of his Zygan
Intelligence mission to Megara, where he’d partnered with Sarion’s
older brother to prevent an invasion led by Burr and a team of
Benedict Andarts. John had single-handedly rescued his partner from
execution by micro’ing and M-fanning inside Burr’s stun gun and
sabotaging the trigger release. The gun discharged the laser beam
backwards, singeing Burr’s scalp to match the color of his hair,
and distracting the screaming Andart long enough for John to help
Sarion’s brother escape.

The hour passed too quickly; I’d relished the
chance to bond with my own brother as a fellow catascope.

The customer service contributor was able to
locate an address for Moore on the outskirts of the city, but her
expression implied that the neighborhood was far from a showpiece.
We could arrange to rent an electric vehicle at the Ministry of
Transportation or just ride the maglev train to within a twenty
minute walk from the location. We opted for the train.

She then provided us with disks the size of a
mini-CD as loaners. “Drop these in any ‘Returns’ box when you leave
our city,” she instructed, assuming that we knew how to use them.
We all decided it was best to pretend that we did.

“The train’s over here,” I said, pointing to
a ramp leading to a crowded station.

“Something we have to do first,” said
John.

“You are correct,” Spud said, “Without
Heron’s generosity to sponsor us, we will need currency.”

“That’s not what I meant, but, okay, what do
you suggest?”

Both of the men looked at me. My hands
instinctively went to my ears. “No!” My diamond earrings had been a
gift from Connie on my 16
^th
birthday. They could be the
last memento of a sister I might never see again.

Spud was running a finger over his mini-disk.
“I spotted a currency exchange vendor back near the airfield.” His
tone did not invite debate. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The pawnshop contributor had laughed at our
attempts to trade in the diamonds. “Plentiful around the world, and
worth very little, my dear.”

“I guess there’s no DeBeers monopoly to jack
up the prices,” John muttered.

“Now the gold studs,” the shopkeeper examined
the earrings with a loupe, “Yes, real gold. For those I can offer
you something.”

I reluctantly consented to letting the
treasured jewelry go, but only after my companions promised that we
could return and repurchase the earrings once our Ergals were
operating again and we were out of this…mess. I wouldn’t want to
have to face Connie and tell her that we’d had to pawn her
heartfelt gift.

We ended up getting enough drachmas to be
able to cover our food, shelter, and transportation for a couple of
days. Hopefully, this ‘diviner’ Heron had recommended could help us
out before these resources ran out. I wasn’t eager to have to sell
my gold navel ring.

John guided us to a train station north of
the airfield despite Spud’s protests that we were headed in the
wrong direction. “Let me have your Ergal,” John demanded as we sat
in the cushioned seats. He pulled up the geographic display and
studied it during the train’s smooth launch.

“It’s the old maps,” I sighed. “Won’t help us
here.”

John pulled out his mini-disk, ran his
fingers across it, and set about comparing the maps on both tools.
“It will for what I’m trying to do.”

Spud’s voice was a whisper. “Is that
wise?”

“It’s necessary,” John responded.

* * *

We de-trained in a deserted area an hour out
of Nea Athina. A small brick shed served as a shield against the
elements for waiting passengers. Otherwise, we were surrounded by a
thick forest sliced by a few dirt trails.

“You want to tell us why we’re here, Bro?” I
asked, gazing at the uninhabited forest before us.

John smiled. “I’m betting that we’ll find
that our worries were for naught.”

“Plus ça change
,
plus c'est la
même chose, eh?”
said Spud, cryptically.
“Very optimistic of you.”

John shrugged. “Some
faiths believe that life flows like a river. Even if you change its
course, it returns back to its natural bed. Beyond this forest, I
expect to see my family once again.”

“
Faith is the operative
word, indeed,” muttered Spud, as we set off on one of the
trails.

Monitoring my Ergal, John guided us along one
of the paths for another half-hour of trekking. Could John be
right? Could we actually be only a few miles away from our
farmhouse in Maryland—with our family living in this new world but
still intact? I felt a twinge of hope, and a rush of energy. With
each footstep, I felt my eagerness grow, and my burden of guilt
lighten. Wait til I showed everyone who I was bringing home.

Thirty, forty minutes, and we were still
hiking through the dense forest. My enthusiasm had been tempered by
growing worry. There had been no settlements, no clearings, along
our way. None of the roads or landmarks I’d remembered. Had we
taken a wrong turn and gotten lost?

John insisted we were on the right path.
“Anytime now.” But I detected an edge of concern in his tone as
well. My feet began to feel heavier and heavier as we trudged
forward.

After an hour making our way through the
forest, we arrived at a clearing bordered by small pond that
resembled the one fifty yards behind our barn in Maryland. We could
hear chirping cicadas and the caws of flying crows, rustling leaves
from the breeze blowing through the deep green trees. But nothing
more. No houses, no barns, no sheds, no people. And then I knew. We
were here. Home. And our farm was gone. My brothers, my sisters, my
beloved family, were no longer alive.

The blackness closed in before I could
scream.

* * *

Maryland—once

“She’s coming around.” Whose voice? John’s?
John. John was back with me. But, the others? The others…

“Yes, I am observing tears,” Spud’s voice
said, “upon her zygomatic arches.” I heard dripping water. “Give
her a few sips.”

I opened my eyes, blinking to clear the mist,
and held out my palm. “I’m fine. Don’t need it.” I sat up,
supporting my head with my hands, still feeling lightheaded.

“Take it slow.” John’s gentleness warmed my
chilled heart.

“Really, I’m fine.” I stood up to face my
brother. Were those tear tracks on his cheeks as well. “Thanks.”
And then I remembered. “I am so sorry.”

John attempted to soothe me, “We don’t
know…”

I shook my head. “You were right. We needed
to know. And now we know.” I didn’t—couldn’t--look at Spud.

I was grateful Spud didn’t say “I told you
so”. He kept his eyes on his CD and his voice even as he urged us
to return to the train station. “The south train will pass through
in an hour and it will be the last one for the day.”

I nodded, and still a bit unsteady on my
feet, leaned against John for the first few steps down towards the
path from which we’d come. I didn’t look back at the pond where I’d
waded and splashed as a child. Without my siblings, it wasn’t my
pond any more.

We arrived back in Nea Athina by sunset.
“There is an inn,” Spud advised us, “several blocks away. I suggest
we rest for the night and rise early on the morrow to locate the
elusive Mister Moore.”