It was hour fourteen of day four, and Melody was ready to follow Solomon on his next space walk and not come back.
“I’m sorry, Melody,” said Sensus, “but we can’t take any unnecessary chances.”
“I know.”
Stacks of papers, data storage devices by the box, unread reports and a laundry list of proposals waiting for approval. Melody was not enjoying her glimpse into the general’s world. “I would not want your job.”
He smirked. “I miss fighting.”
His comment sparked a daydream, and it occurred to Melody that she had never seen a Harbinger in action. She’d watched correspondent footage of non-rad soldiers, and briefly witnessed some ship-to-ship combat, but she had no idea what it was like to see one of these famed super soldiers perform their art. In her revery, she pictured Sensus holding up a wall of light that incinerated anything harmful on contact. There would be innocent civilians huddling at his feet; children and mothers mostly, and men not built for violence. And Solomon would be hovering above, calling out the enemy’s tactics and hurling bolts of lightning from beyond their reach. Her cheeks flushed when she realized she was smiling, and her stomach knotted when she realized that the general saw her.
“What’s on your mind, Director?”
“Oh, nothing.” She plucked a data rod at random from a box and inserted it into her pad. Page after page of notes scrolled past in a blur, revealing nothing she could imagine to be valuable regarding Albion’s technology or controls.
“It’s not that I don’t trust your father. I just don’t want to leave any possibilities unexplored.”
“I understand. I’m just tired, is all.”
“Why don’t you take a break?”
She shook her head. “No. Not until you do.”
“Melody, my heart is a fusion reactor. I have a great deal more energy than you. If you need a break, take a break.”
She thought for a moment, sorely tempted by the idea of closing her eyes for any amount of time. “Honestly, General, at this point, no less than a full night of sleep would do me any good, and we have too much to go through still for that. I’ll be okay.”
“If you say so.”
“However, I do have a question.”
Sensus looked up. “Ask it.”
“Have you considered the possible repercussions if we’re found out?”
A lone nod was his answer.
“And?”
“I’d prefer to avoid them, so long as I can do so in an honest way. But even the worst-case scenario is preferable to Salamanca’s agenda.”
She wanted to keep quiet. “Please don’t be mad at me, general, but...” And then, after beginning to stop, she found her restraint. Typical.
“Are you having doubts?”
“Kind of, I guess. I mean, I don’t trust the duke, obviously. But Albion is more of a city than a spacecraft. We have a lot of children on board, and people who live lives that are almost comparable to how people live planetside. Whatever defensive technologies we have, this isn’t a warship.”
“Let me ask you a question. What exactly is Albion?”
She had no answer.
“I don’t plan to charge Orak’s fleet head on with our mothership, Melody. But I’ll be damned if I let the duke and his cronies abandon all the inhabited worlds near the Verge to Ulro and the Surge.”
“It’s tough. There’s no ideal choice to be made.”
“No. There isn’t. That’s why we’re learning everything we can about our home. I want to know what all our options are, beyond activating dormant AI subsystems that we know little to nothing about.”
She took comfort in that. But still… “I guess, maybe, what’s bothering me is doing things behind the counsel’s back. Being ready to hijack the ship, more or less.”
Sensus put the data pad he was viewing down and looked across his desk, holding her eyes with his for a long moment before speaking. “I may be new to being a general, but I’m not new to command. Sacrifices often have to be made for the greater good. Sometimes we sacrifice lives, sometimes we sacrifice resources. And sometimes we sacrifice our pride.”
“I sacrifice my pride all the time, General. But should we sacrifice our virtue?”
“If your virtue is more important to you than saving lives, then I would consider your virtues a matter of pride.”
She wanted to debate him, but she was struggling to form coherent thoughts.
“Melody, I want you to get that full night’s rest. I’ll get Daena to help me while you sleep.”
Melody shook her head. “She wouldn’t know how to interpret any of this data.”
“No, but she can organize it. Either way, I want you to take the next twelve hours off. Het some sleep, watch a movie… give your mind a break.”
She let out a long sigh, then nodded. “Thank you,” she said, and while she was grateful, she couldn’t help feeling defeated as she left his office.
Outside, under the high ceilings of the habitat wing, she felt somewhat better, if only a little. If nothing else, she felt refreshed by the synthetic sunlight, the birdsongs played over hidden speakers, the tinkling of the many waterways, all the signs of Albion’s love.
A fresh, lightly spiced scent lured her away from the taxi stands and she found herself at a café she didn’t recognize. She ordered a salad with some exo species' equivalent to olives, a fruit flavored tonic, and sat down by a trio of waterways to watch the koi while she ate. The olives were delicious. So delicious, in fact, the crisp greens and cheese crumbles tasted bland. She sipped her tonic slowly, letting her mind go blank while the koi ambled about, and only stood when she felt herself nodding off.
From there she took a stroll along the edges of the plaza, listening to the streams and birdsong and enjoying the vitamin infused light until her fatigue won out again. From there she went to the taxi stand, but before she could get in a car, a teenage boy in a courier’s uniform approached her.
“Director Omri?”
“That’s me.”
“I’ve been sent by... your people. Sorry. I’m new.”
“It’s okay. What do they need?”
“They need you to come to some place called Oak. It’s urgent.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.” He turned as he spoke and sprinted away.
She let out another long sigh, then got into a car.
All the staff assigned to questioning Eno were outside in the hall.
“Director!” they shouted at once.
She was too tired to raise her hands to calm them down, so she let them flood her with urgent prompts to go inside. Once there, she leaned against the door and slumped down onto the carpet.
“Why didn’t I go straight home?” she exclaimed.
“You never did like going to bed,” said her dad.
“Dad!”
“Hey Mel.”
She stood and looked around the big, empty room. “You can talk through here now?”
“I can only talk from here now.”
“Why? What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Eno wanted us to be able to talk, and I think she wanted me out of the way.”
“That doesn’t sound good. Sensus will be worried to hear that. But I’m glad we can talk here now. Are Mom and Ethan here too?”
There was no answer.
“Dad?”
“Oh, sorry. Uhm, no. At least I don’t think so. I’m sure they’re fine. How are you?”
“I’m a little tired but… what do you mean they aren’t here with you? What’s Eno doing, Dad?”
“She… she doesn’t want you guys interfering with something. I’m not sure what. She caught me, but she didn’t stop me until I started poking at Shaka, only it wasn’t Shaka.”
“There’s another intelligent program in there?”
“Mel, there is an entire civilization of intelligent programs running Albion. But Eno, she’s up there. You could call her a queen.”
Stolen novel; please report.
“And Shaka?”
“Aptly named. But I’d accidentally started to wake up Ezekiel. Before you ask, I know nothing about him, except that he’s either dangerous or Eno just doesn’t want him to wake up until a certain time. Or maybe it’s circumstancial? Anyways, I did what I could, and now Eno’s on the job. I don’t know how much control you guys will have of the ship if push comes to shove, but I know the duke won’t have any more than you.”
“Well, that’s reassuring. Thanks, Dad.”
“Sure thing. You look tired, kid. We can talk later if you need sleep.”
“Okay. But where’s Mom and Ethan? Back on the bridge?”
He was quiet.
“Dad?”
His voice shook. “I uh… This thing with the Tangents, it’s serious. Your mom and brother were really just kinda hanging around, you see. They were distracting and, well it wasn’t really them, you know. Ethan’s thought patterns… algorithms really, they were in a loop. Your mom’s were getting more that way too.”
“Are they gone?”
“Yeah. It was time for me to face reality, you know? I’d hoped to keep them both alive with me, but, I mean, I’m not really alive either, you know.”
“Yeah. I know. Still, it’s nice to have what’s left of you.”
“You gonna be okay, Mel? It’s gotta hurt to lose them twice.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it does. I’ll be okay though.”
“Yeah, you will! Chin up, sweetie. We got a war to win.”
“Yeah. Good night, dad.”
She left abruptly, but she paused outside the door. She thought she heard Eno’s voice. She shuddered. The Artifexus staff gathered in the hall looked at her expectantly. She said nothing as she hurried through them.
Her bed had never felt so hard. She sat up after turning like a bird on a spit for almost an hour. If her kitchen seemed well stocked, it was because she rarely ate at home. She looked in her pantry and saw several unopened packages of pastry. Next, she looked in her cold larder and picked through vacuum sealed salad mixes and sodas with exotic names.
She sat on her couch empty handed. Her stomach groaned, but she’d just sat down and didn’t want to get back up. She layed her head back, and she felt so tired it hurt to be even slightly upright. She lay on her side, but the cushions were too narrow for her to sprawl, and her muscles felt sore.
Her bed had somehow gotten even harder, and her pillows were thin slats of wood under her sweat-matted hair. Even the pillow she tucked between her knees when laying on her side felt wooden and lifeless. She managed another hour in bed, then turned on her light and opened the half-read philosophy book on her nightstand. She’d forgotten what was happening before the page she’d marked, so she flipped back a couple chapters. Frustrated, she closed it and tossed it back onto her nightstand.
She made another play at sleep. The temptation was to take a sedative, but she feared over sleeping. Eventually she dressed in her casual clothes and went for a walk. She found a quiet spot in a room where holo projectors bathed visitors in famous star systems.
There was a woman feeding her infant on a bench across the way. Melody almost thought her a Harbinger when she caught a glow that seemed to come from her eyes, but the light flickered and changed color. She recognized it to be one of those wearable viewers typically marketed to fitness addicts.
She heard hushed voices by the door. She turned her head from the nursing mother and saw an elderly couple walking in. She recognized them as parents of one of the Cosmogesis guild’s most prominent sub-directors and turned her face away.
“Aqaba gold,” said a voice nearby.
She looked around, shocked to realize she was sharing her bench with a smallish man in a stellar cartographer’s robe. His hood was up, shrouding his features somewhat. He looked young, smooth skinned and alive, but held himself with the poise of a retired politician.
“What?” she blurted.
The man gestured towards the solar systems filling the room. The planets were bright and surrounded by orbital defense grids and communications satellites. The one nearest them boasted an impressive fleet of capital ships and a dense swarm of support craft. She tried to recognize the system, but her knowledge of astronomy and spacecraft were both cursory at best. “I’m not sure I…”
“These are old projections,” the man said. “These systems were overrun by the Surge over five hundred years ago. Cheap propaganda, if you ask me. Subtle, but cheap. Sorry. You probably came here to relax. The last thing you need is some stranger’s vitriol to sour your mood.”
She shrugged. “I just come here sometimes when I can’t sleep.”
“Chronic problem?”
“Work related.”
He gave that statement a slow nod, then extended a hand. “Ned Samuelson, historical mapping.”
She accepted the handshake. “Mel… Ethan. Printing engineer.”
“Ah. The cornerstone of our survival. I appreciate all that you do.”
“Thank you.” She glanced towards the old couple, hoping they didn’t see her. The husband did but didn’t recognize her. She turned toward Ned. “Uhm, I didn’t get that reference you made earlier, about some sort of gold.”
“Oh,” he leaned back, waving a hand as he spread his arms on the back of the bench. “Something another history buff might catch. I spend far too much time around my colleagues.”
She chuckled lightly. “Same. So, why do you think this is propaganda? Is there some secret you cartographers are privy to?”
He shrugged, mostly with his hands. “My family has history with Duke Salamanca. Mostly my old man. He’s a slim customer, as they used to say. My dad drilled it into my head never to trust politicians who impose restrictions on either the arts or the sciences. A mandate came from the duke’s office to only show sanitized images of the cosmos.”
“Well, I imagine it’s good for morale. It’s better for the public to be happy, isn’t it?”
His head seemed caught between nodding and shaking as he mulled over her words. He eventually settled on a simple smile. “You’re probably right. I guess I’m just a stickler for accuracy. Comes with the trade.” He stood. “Speaking of the trade, I still have a few hours of work left. It was nice meeting you…”
“Uhm, Mel.”
He smiled again. “Mel. Mel Solomon.”
“Yep. Ned, right? Ned Samson?”
“Close. Samuelson.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Whenever two people meet, there are really six people present…”
“Each person how they see themselves, how the other sees them, and who they really are. Sorry, I interrupted you.”
“Think nothing of it. Quotes are meant to be shared. So, you read philosophy?”
“A little. Usually before I go to bed. Not that it puts me to sleep. It just…”
“It’s good to give your mind something with substance to chew on while you’re dreaming.”
The comment shocked her a little but made sense in an off way. “Uhm, yeah. A bit of mental nourishment, I guess.”
Ned held her gaze for a moment, then took his wallet out of his trouser pocket. “Here’s my card. Call me if you ever feel like chatting again.”
She felt herself blush as she took his card between her fingertips. “Sure. Thank you.” She took the card and their fingers touched. “Uhm…” she looked at the old couple. They were uncomfortably close, following a trail of warships ships and calling out their names and classes. Mody stood and gestured for Ned to follow her out of the room. “My name’s not really Mel. I mean, it is, but it’s Melody.”
“Well, my name is really Nedvar.”
“I’m Director Melody. Director Omri, I mean.”
“And you worried I might be intimidated by your position? You being my boss’s boss’s boss?”
She put her empty hand up. “No. Oh no, nothing like that. A job’s a job. It’s just that those old people in their have a son in one of my departments and I wasn’t in the mood to talk with them.”
Ned laughed. “Understandable. Well, I won’t hold your deception against you, Director Omri.”
“Thank you.” She held up his contact card, which was still between her fingertips. “I’m always busy, but I’m sure I’ll be in the mood for a chat again some time.”
He held out his hand. “Till then.”
She shook it. “Till then.”
Back in her room, she felt the loss of Ethan and her mother in a wave. Crying helped her to finally get an hour of sleep, which did her far more good than she expected. She was still quite tired, though, and was relieved that Daena had set aside time to continue helping them sort through files.
They spoke throughout the day, mostly idle banter, but her former role in the duke’s office was brought up frequently, mostly by Sensus.
Melody caught herself fumbling with Ned’s contact card, spinning it over end with her fingers, or tapping its crystal corners on the general’s desk. “Daena?”, she said suddenly.
“Melody?”
“Would Salamanca have any reason to sensor the projectors in meditation rooms?”
Daena leaned her head to one side. “Duke Salamanca rules nothing out when it comes to manipulating the public. Why do you ask?”
“I met a guy who works in stellar cartography. He said Salamanca issued a mandate to their department that limits what images they can supply for holo projectors.”
Sensus leaned back in his chair and folded his hands together. “Which images are they restricted to?”
“Civilizations at their peak. The room we were in was showing a system that was destroyed by the Surge five centuries ago.”
“You verified this?”
“No. That’s just what Ned said. Ned’s the guy…”
“Yes. Daena, what do you think?”
“It’s worth looking into. You want us to go forward, he wants us to go back. Why not make the stars we left behind seem brighter?”
“And who would even notice but a stellar cartographer?” Sensus looked directly at her. His eyes seemed to glow a little brighter for an instant. “Did you recognize this Ned fellow?”
Melody shook her head. “He’s in historical mapping. They’re a very small, obscure department. I know the name of their lead, who reports to the stellar cartography sub-director, but I’ve never met any of them in person.”
“Well,” said Daena, “small, tightly knit departments are the easiest to investigate. I’ll check on Ned. If if he’s caught up in anything funny, I’ll find out.”
“Be discreet, Daena.”
She gave the general a very indignant look.
“I know. You always are.”
“That’s right. Save your words of caution for Mr. Solomon.”
Sensus smiled. “I’ve devised a plan to teach him some discretion.”
“Oh yeah? You get this look when you’re about to give me an especially unpleasant task. You’re wearing that look right now.”
“And I’m looking forward to the look he gives me when I tell him. Allright, ladies. What we’ve gotten done will have to do. I have focus on readying my proposal to the counsel now.”
Melody stood. “I’ll get my best people on this, General.”
“I know you will, Melody.”
“And I’ll be discreet,” said Daena.
He gave her a wry smirk. “Dismissed, both of you.”
Melody waited for Daena to leave first, stalling by appearing to have trouble gathering her documents.
"Was there something else you wanted to discuss, Melody?"
"Yes. I'm not sure what this means, but it seems Eno cut my dad off from the bridge."
"How do you know this?"
She told him of her encounter in Oak. She'd expected him to be upset, but he smiled.
"This is good news?"
"Very. Think about it. Oak is tied in directly to Albion's mainframe. And now, the interface to Oak is someone you at least are intimately acquainted with."
"And Eno's showing increasing activity."
"Exactly. We've been inputting commands, plotting courses and tinkering with the ships manufacturing capabilities. In other words, we've been operating this vessel as if it were any other ship, and have taken its marvels for granted. But the time for that is over now. Albion is waking."