29
Walking into the massive dining room made me feel small, almost like I stepped into a temple. Towering curtains in crimson silk furnished two-thirds of the walls, but the northeast side was left open, extending outward into a terrace overlooking what would become a shallow lake.
Meredith used her green thumb to plant a small forest and a garden—maybe more. “To fill up the empty sections,” she said once.
She and the boys sat by the long rectangular table of marble (which could seat twenty people) on the raised platform in the middle of the chamber. Two guards flanked the entrances to the dining room, and they all saluted when I entered.
I nodded back, acknowledging their presence, and strode toward my family.
“Well! Look at you, looking all handsome and professional!” Meredith exclaimed, getting out of the table. I could smell the sweet aroma of pancakes near a small buffet table, where two cooks waited. Even with servants running around, I reckoned Meredith insisted she cooked breakfast for my brothers and me.
“Jason thinks it’s best if I wear this,” I said. “Too much?”
“I like it. He has a good eye. You look like you stepped out of those movies you and the boys loved to watch so much before you went to college.”
“Uh, which one?”
“You know, with the aliens and the adventure stuff? Or was it the people with mustaches and spies?”
“I hope this doesn’t make me look like a Bond villain.”
“Well, even Bond villains can pull off whatever outfit they wear and look good doing bad things. The usual?”
“Yes, thank you, Meredith.” I sat at the table with Isaac and Daniel. Meredith picked a plate and started putting down stacks of pancakes, bacon, and sausage links. A woman tried to pry the tongs from her hands, but Meredith swatted her hand away. “I’ll do it, girl. I’ll do it.”
“But ma’am—”
“See? Beatrice, it’s all done! I got it.” She put the plate in front of me, ignoring Beatrice’s deepening frown. “Honestly, Beatrice, it’s just breakfast, not dinner with the royals.”
“Oh. Um, yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t call me ma’am. I’m not your vice principal.”
“Er—” Beatrice looked around the room, probably making sure Sir Dumont wasn’t lurking in the corner, ready to strike. “Yes, ma—yes, Meredith.”
“Good.” Meredith turned back to me. “I hear you’ll have a big talk with the president today, right? And the other world leaders?”
“I’ll admit, I’m nervous.”
“It happens. I bet everyone who talks to presidents gets a little nervous.”
“Maybe it’s the other way around,” Daniel muttered. “Tony hung up on the president one time.”
“And made him mad,” Isaac chuckled.
“And he’s got the alien tech, and they don’t,” Daniel added. “They might be more nervous than him, ma.”
“Hush now, Daniel. Eat your breakfast. You barely touched it.”
“But I’m not hungry.”
“Eat it. We don’t get much food around here, so that plate better be empty within the next ten minutes, young man.”
Daniel scoffed and took a bite of his pancakes. “Fine.”
Fortunately, my family was unhurt throughout the battle, secured on their seats by the nanites, the anti-gravity, and the life support system. Of course, they were rattled and frightened, particularly the boys, but their faces broke into grins and excitement once they saw Earth in orbit. Since then, I have asked my family to live here with me for their safety and protection, but they had to leave everything behind on Earth. With their house destroyed by the quartz, they agreed to stay and support me. Although it had challenges, having them around made me feel better.
Meredith sat on the table with her plate. “I’ll visit Gloria today and see how she’s doing. I didn’t know that she had a bad case of thalassophobia. The poor woman almost had a heart attack when I showed her the docks and that open door. All I wanted was for her to see the stars, you know?”
A few days ago, I went down to Earth for Jason’s mother, Gloria, and his brother, Connor, who were hounded by the media after my public revelation. I escorted them back to the station to be reunited with him. I also brought up my friends’ families and the other pilots, who either took residence in level 18 or stayed in the civilian sector in level 21.
For several days, we survived on the food that I had brought from my father’s house and the ones brought up by the other families. But I found a breakthrough about a week ago: out of 195 countries, only Singapore and New Zealand decided to trade with us, to the surprise of everyone. Eleven days of groveling to the other nations for necessities and supplies finally paid off, even if some of the things I said to make it happen turned my stomach into a knot. I had never begged that hard in my entire life, packaged in diplomatic speech. It was still begging, just with flowery words and extra steps.
We got food and the necessary supplies, and I paid Singapore and New Zealand in gold and silver. It was a slippery slope. Singapore and New Zealand didn’t hand this over out of the goodness of their hearts, and once my walls were down, they’d ask me what they wanted.
However, Singapore and New Zealand’s friendship caused a tidal wave of backlash on the surface. Threats of sanctions from other countries, spearheaded by the US and China, were even thrown around. It caused a diplomatic crisis. What I thought was a minor peace offer made it seem like t was the second Cuban Missile Crisis. If I didn’t alleviate it now, kneecapping the only two countries willing to extend an olive branch wouldn’t do us any good.
“How’s Jason’s mother and brother, by the way? Are they settling alright?” I asked Meredith between bites.
“Connor’s been helping Jason around the station and is very excited about working in outer space, but poor Gloria didn’t want to leave her house, but she told me she wanted to stay close to her sons. I’m bringing a casserole and maybe see if she wants some company. Now that you’ve got us television, I’ll try to find something to distract her.”
“Thank you. I’ll make sure Jason and his family are well taken care of. I’ll send six of the guards to accompany you.”
“Tony, is that necessary? Gloria’s house is only on level 18. Practically no civilian goes there, and you built the Navarros a gated home twice the size of their last one. Plus, they have their own guards. I think I’ll be safe on my own.”
“I don’t think Dad will like it if I let you walk around the station without someone watching your back.”
Meredith sighed and pursed her lips. “Does he expect the quartz to infiltrate the hub just kill a poor old unimportant woman like myself? Oh, your father is such a worrier! Well, I guess I can live with having a chaperone to tag along for now.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Meredith. I know how you feel about having them follow you around.”
“Bah, but that’s different! You’re the forerunner! It’s completely understandable why they’ll guard you around. Too many crazy people these days.”
Daniel cleared his throat after I took a bite of the pancake. “Um, Tony, when can we get our phones back?” Isaac suddenly elbowed him. “What? I was just asking.”
“Boys, you know the rules,” Meredith said sternly.
I leaned forward. “Until everything settles down.”
Daniel frowned. “I just wanted to talk to my friends. I haven’t hung out with them for a long time.”
Isaac scoffed. “He wants to fly a ship to show off to his crush.”
“Am not!”
“You are!”
“Am—!” Daniel kicked Isaac’s chair. “Not!”
“Boys! Inside voices…inside voices…inside voices,” Meredith hushed. “And what did I tell you about kicking your brother?”
“Sorry, ma,” Daniel said. “But that’s not what I’m planning. My friends and I were supposed to see this cool action movie, but I missed it.”
“It was Rated R,” Isaac added, and Daniel glared at him to shut up.
Daniel regarded me again. “Anyway, I wanted to make up for it by showing them outer space. I thought they would like that. Prime is flying it in auto-pilot anyway—”
I dropped the fork onto my plate and looked him as gently as possible in the eye. “Daniel, I know this place is a little lonely for kids your age, but I don’t think flying around one of the ships is a good idea. They’re for other purposes. They have weapons and can kill people, especially when the other quartz is still out there. When the time is right, your friends can hang out with you in this station if their parents allow it. I’ll pick them up personally.”
“Can we get internet, at least? I’ve watched all the movies that Prime already sent us,” Isaac asked.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“I can retrieve more forms of entertainment for you, Isaac,” Prime said. “I will have it ready by this afternoon.”
Isaac flinched a little, but he quickly composed himself. My family was still uneasy being around a literal talking and floating robot.
“I’ll allow social media access in a few days once I’m done with my meeting,” I said. “But I want you two to think about what you post there. Think before you post, okay? There are lots of eyes watching us right now. So behave.”
“And I want you two to stay away from any mention about your brother online or anything about aliens or everything going on in San Francisco,” Meredith said. “I don’t want you hearing bad things.”
Daniel and Isaac shared a knowing look. I doubted they would listen. “Yes, ma. We won’t—promise!” they said in unison. Meredith didn’t look convinced.
“By the way, where’s Dad?” I asked.
“Oh! He went to the studio early and said something about wanting to talk to Amelia about a project he’s been considering.”
I nodded. My father had decided to work under Amelia, scheming various plans about transportation since the hub was massive and the elevators took too long to reach between the decks. With Prime, he and Amelia had designed a transportation system for the forerunner hub using vertical trains and designing cars that could fly with Prime making it into reality. I was excited about the latter. Technically, my father was a subordinate under the Ministry of Infrastructure, but they worked more like co-leaders. Since he was my father, he was allowed into the command center and had been helping Amelia, Tom, or Jason wherever needed. I’m glad my father kept himself busy since his arrival.
I finished my breakfast. “Duty calls,” I said.
The boys muttered goodbyes while their eyes were trained on their datapad. I had ordered the disposal of Earth-made electronics on the station, using only forerunner tech. These devices were encrypted, but I transferred their old phone contacts and some of the data into them with Prime eliminating any malware and spyware. They couldn’t call other people on Earth until I unblocked any transmission from the hub.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Meredith stifled a laugh, pantomiming a cape over her shoulders. Daniel and Isaac snickered.
I groaned. “Uh, yeah. Almost forgot about that.” I put on the cape, hiding the red flush on my cheeks as I walked out the door with Prime One.
----------------------------------------
Six guards were already waiting outside the hallway and saluted as soon as they saw my shadow. They, too, wore the sleek blue, white, and trims of gold uniforms that had become the standard scheme across the station.
Special Warfare Operator Kyle Rodriguez, a muscular man a few inches shorter than me, and Samson “Smitty” Schmidt, a pale red-haired man who looked like he belonged at an IT convention than the Navy SEALs, followed my trail. Since my uncle joined my war effort against the quartz, I gave the same offer to his colleagues. The United States refused to lend their aid, and either they joined me in my “treasonous act” or waited for DC to give them the go-ahead. All of White Squadron, the badasses of SEAL Team Six, joined me instead of waiting around in limbo, partly due to their loyalty to my uncle. I knew Uncle Nathan’s reputation in the military as The Wolf, which started from his deployment in Yemen. One where he pulled Tom Hennig and me out of a down Humvee and dragged us several blocks from the firefight while his Team covered our ass and got us out of the city. Tom lost his leg that day, but my uncle saved our lives. I might have joined the military to afford college; Uncle Nathan joined for the fun of it.
Still, White Squadron got branded as traitors and dishonorably discharged, but they held on to my promise that I would kick the quartz out of Earth even if it were the last thing I did. They lost a few folks they knew from the Battles of New York and San Francisco, especially when half of the Pacific Fleet was devastated.
Revenge was on their minds.
Uncle Nathan assigned Kyle and Smitty as my bodyguards. It was not so different from their regular job since they were trained in close protection detail. Not always. But most of the time, they guarded high-value targets. They treated me as a long-term mission, which I didn’t mind. If a newcomer with a military background was assigned to be my bodyguard, Kyle and Smitty trained them during their downtime.
“The commander is already in the command center, forerunner,” Smitty said.
I nodded. I wondered what Uncle Nathan must be thinking that I was talking to the other world leaders. “Let’s not keep them waiting. Tell me, did any of you get a good night’s sleep from all the construction going around?” Two days ago, I moved the guards’ living quarters from level 19 to level 17, building a housing complex next to the palace with their training grounds separate from the “space boot camp” on level 19. SEALs had to train every day, even during their downtime and when they were not deployed, and both Kyle and Smitty adopted that mindset when leading my guards.
Kyle smirked. “No, sir. But I like seeing my room getting bigger.”
“Rodriguez always likes the fancy stuff,” Smitty added. “Uh, sir.”
“I want you to send two guards to accompany my stepmother to the Navarros. She’ll insist she won’t need one.”
“Understood, sir. I’ll send Vance and Cheng.”
We boarded a private elevator to the roof of the palace, where a compact ten-person shuttle waited on the landing pad. I ordered Prime to create access shafts between each deck, big enough for a few shuttles and hover cars to go through so that travel wouldn’t have to converge on the pillars. It would be a nightmare once the entire station was populated with millions of people.
So far, I could manage with fourteen thousand.
Traveling from the palace to the command center took seven minutes, giving me enough time to review the notes Tom, Jason, and Uncle Nathan sent yesterday. Fortunately, I didn’t have to memorize all of it. I feared it would only make me sound wooden. When we entered an access shaft, Alonso hailed my datapad, and I accepted the video call.
“What’s new, Ruiz?” I asked.
“I’ve picked up the third wave from the Eastern seaboard. We got a good lot, and everyone made it in time.”
“How many?”
“Ninety-six. We’re picking up another batch near Mexico City and Huancayo. We should have around four hundred new faces up there in no time.”
“Good. Is she one of them?”
“Yes. Ms. Sherwood is here.”
“Escort her to the command center. I want to welcome her personally.”
“Alright. See you in an hour.” Alonso dropped the call.
I looked out of the shuttle’s windows. I was still fascinated by how deep the decks were between the levels by around two hundred feet. I thought about creating a network of tunnels underneath each level, but I worried about the station’s stability. Though, Prime told me it could be done. Prime still hadn’t told me (refused to tell me) about how he built, recycled, and salvaged such gargantuan stations to emptiness. It’s astounding that at least a dozen alien species built and renovated this space just like I do now. I half-expected an alien skeleton wedged between the decks when Prime began his excavation for the access shafts.
The shuttle slipped into level 18, which became the most developed area of Station One, with a working day-night cycle from the artificial skylights (again, set for Eastern Standard Time). Around eighty percent of its space was complete, dotted by low apartment buildings reserved for government employees, administrative complexes, offices, and ministry institutions, separated by paved roads for anyone to use who requested to transplant their vehicles from Earth. It wasn’t expensive to do. Basically a fly-and-grab. It would be strenuous if everyone walked around the station, taking hours to get to the other end. There weren’t a lot of cars at the station when most folks preferred to ride the elevator trams, so at least traffic wasn’t a nightmare.
Towering over them was the Command Center and the central pillar (renovated into more office spaces and apartments). Most buildings sat empty while the recruitment drive hadn’t peaked yet. Not quite the populated hub I had envisioned two weeks ago.
The shuttle landed on the CC building’s roof, where Freddie, Seth, Rachel, and half a dozen government employees stood waiting. Freddie, Seth, and Rachel saluted when I climbed out while the others lowered their heads, avoiding my gaze.
That always irked me. As thousands of people moved out here in space, my friends and I never told them how to act around me. Even before I hired Emile as my private secretary and managed my household staff (he had no say in how the civilians should treat me), they had been bowing and showering me with gifts and compliments. I get why my soldiers would salute me since I’m technically their superior officer, but I didn’t understand why the civilians would do it and go the extra mile. I’ve witnessed several folks literally kiss the ground I walked on. A few were bold enough to offer me marriage proposals.
Amelia called it the hero-worship syndrome. Jason called it a man crush. Uncle Nathan called it a Tuesday.
“At ease,” I said. Freddie, Seth, and Rachel relaxed their stance.
“Everyone’s ready for you, Tony,” Rachel said, studying my face. “Maybe a trip on the makeup table?”
“Do I look that ugly?”
Rachel grinned. “Just a bit of a touch-up. Pop-out your handsome features.”
“No need to butter me up before the trash fire, Rach.”
“Hey. Just helping.”
Freddie and Seth chuckled. Behind them, the others held on to their serious facade. I was tempted to jump right in front of them and yell, “Ooga, booga!” and put a smile on their faces. I’d probably scare the living shit out of them.
The groveling and the bowing didn’t stop there on the roof. Every time I passed by a hallway or an office chamber, everyone would stop what they were doing, stand in attention, and bow their heads. Then, once my shadow was gone, they’d murmur amongst themselves, no doubt talking about they caught a glimpse of me. When ninety-nine percent of the population would rather leer at you like some cage in a zoo, it was unnerving to experience.
Eventually, we reached Jason’s studio in the Ministry of Media. Rachel quickly led me to a vanity table in the corner while two makeup artists tried to hide some imperfections, the dark circles under my eyes and a stubborn zit under my chin, and made me look like I did not get out of bed fifty minutes ago. They also redid my hair, which I only paid a minute of my time in the bathroom with a dash of pomade. I thought I already looked presentable. Apparently, I looked like a troll who hadn’t taken a bath in a week. They did not tell that to my face, but that’s what it felt like. By then, fifteen minutes had passed on the vanity table, and I called it quits.
“Okay. This is fine. I don’t need to put on some fancy cologne when they’re not going to get a whiff of it from behind the camera,” I said, annoyed.
The two makeup artists practically jumped from my outburst. “Oh! Sorry, sir! I’m so sorry!”
I felt guilty and waved them off. “No, no. It’s okay. I just want to get this over with.”
Uncle Nathan walked over with his arms crossed, stifling a laugh. Even Kyle and Smitty hid their smiles.
“I look like a clown,” I said. I’ve never spent that much time in front of a mirror before.
“Nah, you look good. Nice hair,” Nathan said.
I narrowed my gaze at him, debating whether he was making fun of me before I glanced over the mirror. With the front of my hair parted to the side, they made me look like I was some douchebag from Wall Street. But seeing it with everything below that, I’ve never looked quite this good. Certainly a boost of confidence before I get roasted by a dozen world leaders who would throw me into the volcano’s peak like some hapless sacrificial virgin. I might as well look good doing it.
I strode toward the giant holographic screen where the other world leaders were waiting.
President Adam Howell was a handsome man in his late thirties with short brown hair and a well-trimmed beard. He sat behind the video on the wall with the other G7 members, their respective video feeds stacked on each other. It’s hard to picture him as the President of the United States when he always looked like he seemingly burst out of a romance film with his slim-fitted suit and burgundy tie.
Jason commented a few days ago that Howell and I might be competing for who gets to be the most attractive leader in the next Esquire magazine. If winning that contest will give me more soldiers, I’m all for it. I doubt it would be the case.
Jason’s film camera, a slender black box of wires and buttons fixed on top of a tripod, was aimed at me. He and his brother, Connor, was behind the camera while Amelia, Uncle Nathan, my father, Ben, and the other Marines stood to the side, surrounded by more of Jason’s film crew.
Don’t get me wrong; I was nervous about being in front of the camera and talking to these people. This would mark the second time. My father walked up to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “You okay?” He asked.
“No. Not really. He’s gonna insist we hand over Prime again.”
“Well, you do have a nice toy.”
“Be serious.”
Dad gritted his teeth. “Well, he’s the president, but—” He knew what would happen to me if we gave it up. “Whatever. If he asks again, you tell him to fuck off like last time.”
“Should I still be polite about it?”
He smiled. “You did the polite way, and look what that got you. Look, these folks are not going to see you seriously, alright? In their eyes, you don’t belong in their club. Just be patient. Ignore whatever insinuated insults or threats they may drop on you, and remember to remain calm. They want you rattled.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“And whatever you do, Tony, don’t go—”
“—Don’t go scorched earth.”
“I mean it.”
“Don’t worry, okay?”
Connor raised his right hand, dropping a finger as he counted the seconds until we were live on air. My father didn’t seem convinced, and although I tend to go overboard when I’m pissed, he still gave me a supportive squeeze on the shoulder before he rushed off the stage toward Uncle Nathan and off the camera’s view. I caught him whispering something to him, but Uncle Nathan merely shrugged at what he said.
“You’re on,” Jason whispered.
The camera turned red.