Until the Dawn, page 18
"You look a little flushed, Jon. Perhaps you should lie down for a bit." David suggested, reaching over and placing a hand on his forehead. The deckhand began to feel very dizzy suddenly and a distinct chill swept through his body even though he usually kept the room's temperature quite warm. He swung his legs up on the couch, noting idly that they too passed completely through David's body. He settled back into a comfortable position, feeling a wave of fatigue sweep through him and decided that the day wasn't a total loss. After all, it wasn't every day that he came home to find God waiting for him.
* * *
The spy continued gathering scrapings from the single remaining mineral rock as fast as he could. Too many people had passed by in the corridor outside for it to be a coincidence anymore – they must suspect him by now. That meant he didn't have much time. Sweat was running down his forehead in large drops and his shirt was completely soaked with it. Occasionally he had no choice but to pause periodically and wipe his face with a large towel in order to avoid dropping beads of moisture into the pile of dust he was working so hard to create.
He had turned the room's temperature down twice now but continued to feel extremely warm. The letter opener slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor as he noticed that he had accidentally cut his hand with its gradually sharpening edge. Cursing, he quickly wrapped part of the towel around the blood that immediately began to spatter onto his desk.
The sudden, unmistakable sound of movement from behind caught him completely by surprise and he turned, shocked to see armed Brotherhood soldiers. There were two of them wearing dark black uniforms, and they each held pistols at the ready. Both men watched him silently and he slowly held up both hands cautiously – to avoid provoking them – before carefully moving to set the letter opener down on the desk.
"How the hell…?" he wondered out loud. Neither of the soldiers responded and he took a slow step forward, pointing at his chest with his bloody, towel-wrapped hand. "Hey, why are you guys holding weapons on me? I'm one of you – remember?"
"What do you think?" one of the soldiers asked curiously – his voice a stale, emotionless monotone. "Do you want this tripe kept alive?"
"Huh?" the spy asked in confusion. "What are you talking about?" He was totally puzzled, particularly because he had never heard a non-clone soldier speak without first being spoken to.
"He's not talking to you…" said a voice from across the room. The Brotherhood spy whirled again and saw a tall, dark-haired man dressed in civilian clothing. The newcomer was smiling shrewdly at him as he leaned casually against the kitchen counter. "They follow my command."
"Who are you?" the spy asked, his attention momentarily distracted from the soldiers. "How did you get in my quarters?"
"You should already know who I am," the newcomer replied. "And you should have expected that I would stop by for a visit sooner or later. Once you commit blasphemy against God then you've begun walking down a path that leads you in only one direction. Punishment… severe punishment… becomes inevitable."
"I don't understand," the spy protested, his face becoming red with anger. "Who are you?" he asked again.
"Maybe I am someone you know and maybe I am not," his adversary stated simply. "Whoever I am doesn't really matter though, does it? Whether you've murdered innocent people in the name of God or in the name of the Betrayer, the Lucifer, the Satan? Murder is still murder isn't it?"
"I haven't murdered anyone," the spy hissed sharply.
"Oh perhaps not directly, but you did make certain the Brotherhood's attack viruses were successfully passed on to the fighter and shuttle software back on the moon, and you're planning violence right now. Look at the blood on your hands already. It's kind of symbolic, isn't it?"
"Shut up. I don't believe you. Who are you?"
"Great blasphemy brings with it a long and lingering punishment," the man said, walking toward him. "Kneel before me, and continue aiding me in my cause – I can spare you that particular destiny. All you need do is give up control of your soul. I will take it and keep it safe for you."
"You are the one… as is written in scripture… the one who was cast out, aren't you?" the spy asked in awe.
"That is correct. God tried to punish me, but instead I now rule a kingdom far greater than His. He presides over heaven, but I am the one who is left to command all that you have seen before you out here in the rest of the universe."
"You are Lucifer, the Dark One, aren't you?"
"I am many things and go by many names. That is one of them."
"Scripture has records of you battling God, but you were exiled to rule the underworld, were you not?"
"I go where I will, and right now I am here… standing in front of someone whose people have killed billions. Your so-called 'new society' is literally afloat on a river of human blood and that interests me more than you can possibly imagine."
"They deserved to die. They had the greatest planet in the universe and what did they do with it…? The most powerful nations used their resources to keep other countries trapped in a permanent lower class. Their governments also repeatedly found new reasons to murder those of us with less. We set out to reshape the globe… to begin again by rising from the ashes with the Triumvirate carefully controlling everything."
"They had great cities and great farming communities," the other responded. "And historically they have had conflicts, but they have always chosen a negotiation table as their final weapon. When – in their modern history – have they ever used nuclear weapons against each other in the manner that your people have? You have murdered billions and openly claim to do so in the name of God! If that is not blasphemy, then what is?"
"I personally had no control over that," the spy protested, tears beginning to run from his eyes. "I was assigned only to infiltrate the Waywardsman project… like me, many of us had no idea what the end objective of our people was. If I had known what they were planning…"
"Billions!" the other shouted, placing his right hand on top of the spy's head. "There in your home galaxy lays a world shattered by nuclear fire, their streets filled with the dead. And you dare say that your people serve God? Your entire Brotherhood serves only ME now!"
"Stop it, please stop," the spy begged, falling to his knees. "These quarters are only semi-private and if someone else hears you…" The other kept his hand on the top of the man's skull, and a wave of disorientation seemed to pass through his fingers and into the humanoid. "I didn't know that genocide was our ultimate plan, I swear."
"Of course you didn't," the stranger said, waving casually at the pair of soldiers still standing motionless on the far side of the room. "You simply helped with the plan to unleash these killers and your war machine on the humans as a peaceful gesture." He grinned wickedly, and his hand on top of the spy's head began glowing with scarlet light. "Your people are powerful and – like me – are not afraid to stand up and take what is theirs! I am here now. Join me and I will spare you the punishment that is coming. Defy me and you will suffer for all eternity! GIVE me your soul!"
"I don't know about the rest of my people, but I am not a murderer," the spy protested, noticing that the room was beginning to spin slowly around him. He felt dizzy and confused. "Not yet, at least."
"Of course you're not, you just spend all your spare time here in your quarters making bombs because you are the kindest and gentlest of creatures," the other sneered.
"These people have killed mine! I have the right to take revenge!"
"Of course you do. Your people kill billions by surprise and this ship's crew manages to marshal a defense and fight back. How dare they? I see your point completely, I do!" insisted the stranger. "You have the superior intelligence, the strength, and the ability to defeat them. Don't get me wrong… I would kill them too! Your people can make use of the technology on this ship. You have the right to take it just as you had the right to conquer Earth!" The hand came up off the top of the spy's head and clenched into a tight fist. "Unite with me Brother, you've already been helping me… not some weak and powerless God! Together we will kill everyone and everything on this ship and take it back to your people so they can further expand your new and superior civilization!"
"Stop, please stop…" the spy said again, sinking slowly into a tightly curled ball on the floor. "Please go away… I don't want to kill anyone… I never did." The room grew quiet and he lay there for quite some time, afraid to look up. When he finally did he could find no trace of the stranger or his two soldiers. Sweat and tears still rolled down his cheeks and he laid there on the floor, too afraid to get up and move around.
He was still not used to having all of these uncontrolled emotions and struggled once again to pull himself together. After calming himself down, he stood up slowly and went immediately to the restroom. The spy used its sink to hold and then splash cold water on his face before bandaging his wounded hand carefully. He pressed a cool, wet washcloth to his forehead to try and control the burning sensation inside his head. Perspiration continued to run down his face and he gasped in utter shock upon noticing his image in the mirror. The mysterious other had judged him, of that much he was sure. But he hadn't expected the Dark One to have left his mark as well.
He stood there, staring at the change to his appearance in shock, wondering how he was ever going to walk amongst the crew of this ship again without being detected. They would be able to see him for who he was at a glance now, and his next duty shift in the hangar bay began right away the next morning. The spy cried softly as he realized that discovery was now unavoidable. It was then that he heard the two quick thumps on the wall separating his quarters from the next. It immediately became obvious to him that someone on the other side of the wall had overheard the entire conversation between him and the Devil.
True fear seized and held him.
* * *
"So how is Trey doing?" Liane asked curiously. She leaned out of bed just long enough to set her champagne flute on the nightstand. Aaron lay next to her, deep in thought, arms clasped tightly behind his head.
"The kid is doing fine," Aaron said. "I've been pleasantly surprised, especially since he had such a complete breakdown. Depression is one of those illnesses that will vary with each individual – I'm amazed that our Doctors can even treat it."
"Can they?" wondered Liane. "If your patient dies before he can improve, that's not a successful treatment in my book."
"Trey almost died because he deliberately disobeyed his Doctor," Aaron pointed out. "Stronger medications require a prescription for a reason… because they are unpredictable to a point and sometimes have side effects. That's why they're tested so thoroughly before the government approves them for use, and Trey had no business trying to back himself off of them without speaking with the Doctor first." He took a drink from his own glass. "Dr. Simon feels terrible that she didn't continue to check on him, but I had told her not to worry because I would do that." He shrugged. "Trey summed it up best himself… if you've been healthy all your life and never gone through this type of thing before it's hard to realize what's happening long enough to not make mistakes."
"What if you had found him a few minutes later? It sounds like he was really close to…"
"I know." Aaron sternly sat quietly for a moment, remembering. "It's weird. I was on duty working, and suddenly I had this… concern… that something was wrong." He harrumphed loudly and shook his head. "I don't know how to describe it, but somehow I just instinctively knew that Trey was in danger."
"How?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I was working and then I leaned back in my chair for a few minutes to take a short break, and… and all of a sudden I imagined him all curled up in a ball, helpless, on the floor of his room. Something I can't explain warned me that he was in grave danger. I left my shift early to check on him… most people don't even know about that part." He sighed heavily and rubbed fatigue from his eyes. "The frightening thing is that I found him in the exact position I visualized. He was facing the opposite direction, but curled up in the same tight ball with the empty pill bottles lying next to him."
"Good God Aaron!"
"I know. That's when I realized just how terrifying that nuclear attack was, how much pressure we're all dealing with. I can't think of anything else that would ever have driven a happy-go-lucky guy like Trey to try and take his own life. He loves living that much!"
"Well at least he's sleeping again," Liane pointed out. "I know how cranky I get when I miss a night of shuteye, so I can just imagine what it's like to go night after night without being able to sleep."
"At least he's talking to me now instead of compartmentalizing everything deep down inside," decided Aaron. "We visit every night for at least a half hour and never seem to run out of things to talk about." He smiled at her. "Kind of like you and me, but in a brotherly way."
"Being diagnosed with mental illness, even if it is just stress-related, would scare the hell out of me," admitted Liane. "There's such a stigma attached to psychiatry… people look at you differently, like you're some kind of whacko." She shook her head. "Except if you're rich – then you're just an eccentric."
"When we were kids he really resented me for everything. I played sports, he read books. I dated girls, he read more books. I went out and socialized, he spent time at the library. It went on and on…" He paused, staring at the ceiling. "Then as adults we became better at interacting but he still looked up to me as some sort of impossible role model. No matter what I said or did he just felt like he was something less than his older brother."
"It's no small thing that he and Greg did with the CAS Drive," she decided. "The things that I've seen from my cockpit the past few weeks – it's absolutely unbelievable and something I never in my wildest dreams thought I would ever be able to go out and experience for myself."
"No kidding," responded Aaron. "I've always given him grief because he specializes in software, but can you imagine? What type of intricate mind does it take to come up with the concept of creating something like that singularity, let alone the precise calculations needed to control and stabilize it in order to harness its energy?"
"We were all under pressure to get things done. Then that attack came and it became imperative that we get off of the moon and escape," Liane observed, thinking back to those crucial moments that seemed to last forever then but now were already fading into the past. "Not knowing whether your parents are alive or dead… that must have weighed very heavily on both of you just like family is constantly on the minds of the rest of the crew."
"Our parents are dead, I know they are." Aaron said fiercely. "They were in Minneapolis. That was one of the places early reports said took a direct nuclear hit." He rolled on his side to face her. "I was so scared when I found Trey unconscious," he said. "He was so pale and near death it terrified me… but I called for the medics and deep down I somehow just knew that it wasn't his time yet."
"And now that incident is over and in your past, too," she said, softly stroking his hair. He grabbed her hand and gently kissed it. "You still have part of your family with you and that's more than most people on this ship can say."
"We actually have a better relationship because of his problem," said Aaron. "It's not something I'd want to happen, but since it has we've definitely found a way to rebond as brothers and turn it into something positive." The grin on his face was so full of warmth and love that Liane found herself smiling back at him.
"That's good, Aaron," she said, leaning over to kiss him.
"But life can be so strange sometimes," he continued, looking deep into her eyes. "Tonight when I left Trey' quarters there was an elderly couple down the corridor a way. If I hadn't known any better, I'd have sworn it was Mom and Dad smiling at us with admiration." He paused, remembering. "The resemblance was so uncanny that I glanced back over my shoulder for a closer look. Of course, by then they were gone."
"Whatever heaven that I'm sure they've found, they're going to be even more pleased with you in about seven months," Liane told him with an odd tone of voice, suddenly grinning mischievously. "Although I'm not sure the Captain will be when his air group commander applies for maternity leave." She smiled at his absolute and complete silence for a full ten seconds.
"What?" Aaron finally replied. "I know we decided to have a kid, but after the attack I was thinking that particular process might best be postponed for a while longer."
"Too bad, you mighty giant of a man," she joked. "You knocked me up!"
"That's great!" he grinned. "Wait until I tell Trey he's going to be an Uncle!" His feet found hers under the covers and suddenly their upper bodies were tangled again too. He kissed her sincerely and was still smiling as she swung herself up into a sitting position on top of him. She guided his hands to her naked breasts and smirked at him.
"Better score while you still can," she suggested seductively, licking her lips in anticipation.
