Eugene waited impatiently for the elevator to reach the QER center basement level. It was just after three in the morning when Kiefer had screened to let him know Felix wanted to talk. Whatever it was, it had to be important, because he specifically refused to talk to anyone but Eugene or Jeffery.
For weeks, Eugene had dreaded a call like this one. Ever since Magellan and Bucephalus had discovered the plot against Earth, everyone involved in the ARTists project had been walking around on burning coals. Word about the crisis and the threat posed to Earth had leaked out almost immediately. Some secrets are simply impossible to keep.
Neither was there anything they could do about the situation. Stuck on Earth, the best they could do was offer guidance and moral support to their people in the fight. They were too far removed from the action for anything else. Eugene had never felt more impotent in his entire life, not even when he’d needed the little blue pills.
Now, Felix was calling in the dead of night, with a message too important to share with anyone except the two people on Earth he trusted most. It probably wasn’t to wish happy birthday to a cousin.
Finally, the elevator chimed and the door slid open. Eugene stepped into the white hallway and strode forward at a healthy pace. At the far end was the marine Mk VII android that had replaced the familiar Mk VI two months before.
However, standing at parade ground attention against the wall opposite the android were two other figures Eugene didn’t recognize. As he came closer, he realized that the pair, a man and a woman, looked simply terrible. Their clothes were wrinkled, hair greasy, their eyes sunken, and the man’s face hadn’t seen a razor in days. They gave off a general aura of being freshly plucked from a lifeboat after two harrowing weeks fighting off sharks and eating seagulls.
Something clicked in the back of Eugene’s brain, and he realized he was staring at the two new recruits they’d hired to work in the QER center.
“What the hell happened to you two?”
“Oh. Hello, Administrator Graham,” said the disheveled man. “We’re doing our initiation.”
“Initiation?”
“Yes, Dr. Kiefer said we were to remain standing out here for four days and four nights without sleep or food to prove our commitment.”
“Four days? Are you kidding?”
“No, sir.” The man leaned forward and whispered, “But if I’m perfectly honest, we both had to run and use the restroom on the second day. I hope that won’t count against us.”
Eugene rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “So you’re telling me that you were ordered to stand in a hallway for four days by a crazy-haired man with an abacus around his neck?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And that didn’t seem unusual to you?”
“Yes, sir, but this is the Stack. Everything here seems unusual.”
Eugene raised a finger, but realized he couldn’t argue the point. “Initiation’s over; you passed. Both of you go home and get some sleep. Come back when you wake up. Understood?”
“Yes, thank you, sir.”
The recruits shambled down the hallway, drunk with sleep deprivation. Eugene went through the heavy double doors and emerged into the stillness and hum of hundreds of running QER machines. Then came the booming voice.
“Who dares defile the inner—”
Eugene was in no mood for the older man’s antics. “Stuff a sock in it, Kiefer. As soon as I’m done with this call, you and I are going to have a little talk about hazing the new hires.”
Eugene headed off in the direction of Magellan’s sister QER units. The trip was much shorter than it had been, as the upgraded machines they had installed a few months ago were among the newest units in the center. He arrived, and after the biometric scanners were satisfied he wasn’t an imposter, he called up the holo-menu and connected the call.
“Felix, are you there? It’s Eugene.”
“Thank goodness. I’ve been on hold for twenty minutes.”
“I was in my office. You know how big this place—”
“No time, sir. Things have gone sour out here.”
“What happened?”
“The retaliatory strike against Earth we were trying to head off was launched before we even arrived.”
Eugene’s heart sank through the carpet, into the next basement level. “How long?”
“Imminent. Could be any moment.”
“Wait, why don’t they just recall—”
“Everyone asks that. They don’t have QERs, Professor. The strike force is too far out for their hyperspace radio to reach in time.”
“Then I have to go now. We have to start evacuating the surface and all of our LEO habitats.”
“Yes, do that. But here’s the deal. I’ve been thinking—”
Oh, this should be good.
“—and I believe we can use the Unicycle to destroy any ship in position to attack Earth.”
“The Unicycle?”
“Yes. It’s just a huge particle cannon. And we’ve learned that the attacking force consists of a single ship.”
“Just one? That’s crazy.”
“Not crazy, just overconfident. I’ve seen it for myself. They don’t consider us equals. They’ve consistently underestimated our capabilities. We’ve already destroyed one Turemok ship. We can do it again.”
“How? The Unicycle was built to shoot at ships that are trying to be hit. Hitting something with stealth is going to be almost impossible.”
“I’ve already thought of that. The attacker will only be five light-seconds out. That’s point-blank range. Secondly, the target’ll be even closer to Earth, so you can use the QER to feed Lemieux real-time targeting solutions from sensor stations on the surface. But if you’re going to have time to set it up, you need to get on the horn with Lemieux right now.”
Eugene’s heart returned to its proper place in his chest. They had a chance. Slim, but real.
“Don’t worry, Felix. I’m on it.”
“I know you are, old friend. Fletcher out.”
The call disconnected, and Eugene spun around to run to the Unicycle’s sister machine. He was still spinning on his heel when he heard the pop. Before he knew what the sound was, a violent jolt of painful spasms erupted across the left side of his body. Muscles frozen, he fell to the floor with a mighty crash.
In a moment of terror, Eugene realized he’d been tased. Unable to move a muscle, his head was fixed toward the far wall. To his horror, he saw the table that had previously been covered by a velvet sheet. Sitting on top of it, illuminated by the flicker of candles, was a sculpture that looked suspiciously like two fire extinguishers joined at the neck; a buoy idol.
Oh, shit. They’ve gone off the deep end.
Through the agony and spasms, Eugene heard the voice of the Keeper addressing his minions.
“Gather round, my brothers, and bear witness to prophecy. Soon, we chosen few shall ascend the mountain to claim our reward. For, at long last, the Day of Due Consideration is at hand.”
Eugene found enough strength to shout. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Bugger it! How are you still awake? It was s’pposed to knock you out.”
“Tasers don’t cause unconsciousness, you moron. How did you sneak that thing in here anyway?”
“It always works in the vids.” The Keeper picked up a candelabra from a nearby shelf. “Sorry ’bout all this. But we can’t ’ave you muckin’ about on our big day, can we?” He hefted the candelabra over his head, the little beads of his abacus jingling.
“No, wait!”
The blow fell, and Eugene’s world was swallowed by black.
* * *
“Forgive the interruption, Kumer-Vel, but we are about to reach the Earth system.”
Ja’kel, standing atop his brother Grote’s shoulders, looked down upon the aide with the disdainful indifference that only came with noble birth, or years of careful rehearsal. The brothers hadn’t learned this aide’s name. There seemed little need. Surely, there was a factory somewhere that spat them out.
“Very well. Alert the bridge I will arrive shortly.”
“Immediately, Kumer-Vel.” The aide bowed low enough to make a contortionist envious, and backed out of the room. The door slid shut behind him.
“Are you excited yet, brother?” Ja’kel asked.
A somewhat muffled affirmative came from mid-cloak.
“As am I, but do you suppose we are moving too quickly? Suppose we had let the ruse continue to a few inhabited planets? With enough panic, the Assembly would have been begging us to enforce martial law to guard against the ‘human terrorists.’ From there, our coup against the Assembly hierarchy would be much simpler.”
A considered reply followed several moments later, but it was muted beyond reckoning.
“I suppose you’re right. More time, more planets, more to go wrong. Better to carry smaller boulders up a longer path, eh? Still, after tonight, there will be one fewer threat to the Turemok’s ultimate ascension. That will suffice for now.”
With well-rehearsed cues, Ja’kel’s toes signaled Grote to start walking toward the bridge of the largest warship in Assembly space.