Nexus - Robert Boyczuk (the alpha prince and his bride full story free .txt) 📗

The south face of every standing wall was bearded with the uniform grey of a nuclear shadow. On his suit display a yellow skull grinned its warning at him.

Stinging sweat trickled into his eyes and he blinked; his recirculators complained with a mind numbing buzz, and his suit now stank permanently of stale urine and feces. Designed for zero-gee use, it had never been intended for scrambling over these piles of rubble. Twice already he’d had to make repairs to his communication subsystem, and once to his recirculator. It was only a matter of time until the suit failed entirely. Until it disintegrated like the ruins before him.

Only a matter of time.

Of all the places on Josua’s list, Sav had know this one the best. The Ladder, longhaulers had called it. Sav couldn’t remember how many times he’d been to this outport, shuttled down between hauls to wait for his next contract. He imagined the busy field as it had been: a hubbub of activity, an unending stream of low-slung tractors trundling between the control tower and the hangars, hauling cargo and crew; ships lifting off every few minutes, the bright flares of their exhausts momentarily blinding, the field singing with their thunderous vibrations, caught in the ground like a hum in the chest of a giant.

Early on, after crewing only a few longhauls, he purchased a small, exclusive house in Briam, twenty klicks from this field. It had been a moment of sentimental weakness, a desire to have a place to which he could return. A place he could call home. But he never felt comfortable there. Its bare walls and few mismatched pieces of furniture seemed to accuse him of not having a life with which to fill these spaces. Instead of being the refuge he had hoped, the house only stoked his desire to flee Bh’Haret and return to the anonymity of space. Three times he returned to its vacant rooms and empty hallways. Then, before he set out on his next longhaul, he sold the house for an embarrassing profit. He squandered the proceeds of the sale on a drunken gambling spree.

It’s was too late, he thought, even back then.

Weed choked rubble stretched out before him. Everything of value was long gone, laid waste in the mad aftermath of the plague. The pattern was all too familiar: landing fields, military installations, industrial mills and factories. Anything that would have been useful in preparing the Ea for another longhaul, destroyed. In the panic that must have followed the advent of the plague, there would have been suspicion amongst the city-states, distrust amongst the loose association of councils. Whose plague was it? Who engineered and released it? There would have been threats and counter-threats. There would have been strikes and reprisals. And this field, like all the others, would have been a primary target.

But even soA feeling of uneasiness had been growing inside Sav like a tumour. The destruction was too methodical, too complete. It had an unlikely thoroughness. The more time he spent sifting through the detritus of these sites, the more he began to believe that there was another will at work, a presence that wanted the destruction to appear part of the chaos following the plague. Looking out over the devastation, he thought, Perhaps Josua was right after all. In his fever, he saw clearly what we couldn’t—the hand of Nexus.

When Sav returned to the stasis facility, Liis was waiting at the side of the landing pad. It was the fifth day after he and Hebuiza had moved the stasis cells-the day Josua had said they would begin the revivals. The dropship settled to the ground, its engines scattering clouds of dust and small stones across the tarmac. Liis raised her arms to protect her face.

Sav opened the hatch and began unloading the items he’d scavenged that morning.

“Leave that.” Liis stood behind him, one arm still raised, now shielding her eyes from the late afternoon sun. “Josua wants to see you.”

Sav set the case he’d lifted onto the tarmac and followed her. Just before the main doors Liis stopped abruptly and spun around. “You’ve got to understand, we had to do it.” Her words were angry and defensive. “We had no choice.” Then softer, as if she were pleading. “Josua explained the need….”

Sav felt sick. “Do what, Liis?”

“Revive them.”

“Josua’s revived them?”

Ignoring his question, Liis said, “Remember Sav, we had to do it.”

“I don’t understand-”

But Liis had already turned away and walked through the entrance, the doors rolling back before her. She moved down the corridor, her shoulders hunched. Sav hurried after her. “Liis….”

She turned left and walked into the reception room outside Josua’s office. Sav hustled after. When he got there, the room was empty. He pushed through to the inner office. At first Sav didn’t recognize Josua-he’d shaved his beard and trimmed his hair. He appeared to be the old Josua. He looked up from behind the broad expanse of his desk, concern written on his face; on the opposite side of the room, the Facilitator leaned against the wall, his head moving inside his wide helmet, his dark arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Sav. Liis had retreated to the far corner. She stared fiercely at something to Josua’s right. Sav followed her gaze to the monitors. They contained the usual scenes of the quarantine area—except for the view of the six cryostasis cells: three were now empty, their lids stacked neatly to the side. Sav scanned the other screens quickly, but saw no movement, no figures standing, walking, sitting. Nothing that showed the presence of those who had been woken.

He looked back at Josua. “You’ve revived them.”

Josua nodded. “Yes.”

“How long?”

“Five days.”

Five days. Sav couldn’t believe it. “You said you weren’t going to do anything until you talked to me.”

“No. I said I’d talk to you if Hebuiza didn’t want to proceed with the revivals. But he did.”

Sav looked at the Facilitator, then back at Josua. “You planned this,” he said flatly. “You lied.”

“It was necessary. You would have objected to the experiment.”

Experiment? Hadn’t Liis used the same word? “What have you done to them?”

Josua drew his brows together. “Done to them? I haven’t done anything to them.” He pointed towards the screens. “See for yourself.”

Sav looked. At first he saw nothing on the screens but the deserted rooms, the waldo standing motionless next to a clutter of laboratory equipment. Then he noticed the hospital beds. Three were occupied; IV drips and vital sign monitors had been set up next to them. He took a step closer. A woman-at least Sav thought it was a woman-was in the leftmost bed, a sheet pulled up to her chest. Thick, wide restraints ran across her chest, thighs and ankles. Her jaw was slack, her mouth a dark opening, her sunken eyes wide and unblinking. Sweat glistened on her forehead. Sav took a step closer the monitor; now he could see her face and shoulders were peppered with red lesions and dark scabs like those Sav had seen on the director of the facility. She breathed unevenly, her chest rising and falling erratically. In the bed next to her was a rotund, middle-aged man who appeared to asleep or sedated. Other than the same sickly pallor, he appeared fine. He was similarly restrained. On the third bed was a sealed body bag.

“Shit.” Sav felt nauseated. “They’ve got the plague. Don’t they?”

“Yes,” Josua replied.

They’re dying, Sav thought. Two levels below, two hundred meters down a corridor. He shivered involuntarily. “I…I thought they had all been interred long before the plague.”

No one said anything.

Sav turned. Hebuiza glared back at him through narrowed eyes. And Liis wouldn’t meet Sav’s gaze; instead, she seemed to be trying to wedge herself further back into the corner of the room.

“No.” Josua pushed himself to his feet. “All three were in early stages of the disease before we resurrected them.”

“Are you crazy?” Sav was flabbergasted. “Why? Why the hell would you do this?”

“It’s the only way we can study the plague safely, Sav. We’ve got to understand its vectors. How it’s propagated. We’ve got to know if it’s safe for us to stay.”

“We’re not scientists!” Sav shot back. “The best minds on Bh’Haret uncovered next to nothing about the plague. How the hell are we supposed to do any better?”

Hebuiza uncrossed his arms. “If you would take a moment to think about it,” he said in a sneering tone, “there are several important differences. The first, and most important, is that they had a little over thirty days to extinction. We, on the other hand, appear to have as much time as we need now that we have created an environment in which to study the disease without risk to ourselves. Moreover, I have access to borrowed technologies that were classified when the plague manifested. Only a few people knew about the existence of these things and we were forbidden to use these devices openly. But now, we can do as we please. In the past weeks I have collected as much of this equipment as I could locate, and transferred it here to my laboratory.”

“Then you planned this from the start, didn’t you?” Sav said looking between the two men. “This experiment.” The word almost made him gag.

“Yes,” Josua answered simply.

“You’ve sentenced them to death.”

“They would have died anyway,” Josua said, his voice suddenly hard. “They already had the plague.”

Three more deaths, Sav thought. He stared at the three unopened cells. “And the others?” he asked.

“They’re terminal.” The words were whispered, barely audible. “Inoperable conditions.” It was Liis, speaking from her corner.

Sav swung around, puzzled. “Inoperable conditions?”

The colour had drained from Liis’ face.

Sav was suddenly afraid he understood. “They don’t have the plague, do they, Liis?”

“No,” Josua answered for her. “They don’t. But they’re dying of other degenerative diseases. Like most of the clients here.” He nodded at the screen. “The other three all had life expectancies of well under a year when they were interred.”

“Fuck,” Sav said. “Fuck you all! You’re going expose uninfected people to the plague. Aren’t you?”

Josua stared at him indifferently. “It’s the only way to study the transmission of the disease. We need to know more about its markers. We need to know if it’s safe to stay.”

“Safe? You’re going to kill six people. Just to find out if it’s safe for you!”

“No,” Josua answered quickly. “Not for me. For us. For the longhaulers still to return. For those below, locked in their cells who can still be revived.” His words flowed smoothly; no doubt he’d practised them. “We must identify and destroy all the reservoirs of the disease if we’re to survive. To do that, Hebuiza needs to complete his research. I agree it’s abhorrent. But it must be done.”

Sav looked at the three remaining cells resting on the floor like coffins. Anonymous bodies to be offered as sacrifices for their survival. How many more would follow? Sav found it hard to speak. “But they’re…they’re innocent.”

“They’re not innocent!” Liis’ voice startled Sav. She had taken a step away from the corner of the room, raised her head. “No one’s innocent anymore,” she said. “Nexus made sure of that.”

Sav stared at Liis. What had Josua been telling her? On his sickbed, Josua had mumbled incoherent threats against the Polyarchy. But with his recovery, all that talk had ceased. Did he still intend to punish Nexus for what they may or may not have done?

“She’s right, Sav,” Josua said. “There’s nothing we can do for them. But they can do