CHAPTER FIVE
Farra awoke after having gained four hours of peaceful sleep. She felt a little heavy headed due to the nightmares and the lack of good sleep but she could remember feeling worse many times before during her deep space military career. She has always been one of those people who thrive under stress and performs better during high stress encounters. The fall out is that after the stress is gone, she tends to fall a bit flat for a day or two. She was under stress since the day she was born thirty two years ago. She was given up for adoption at three days old; her mother having been raped during the reconstruction back on earth. By the time she was old enough to notice such things, the reconstruction was over and a tense peace was in place. Her mother was one of those many demonstrators against the amalgamation. England just happened to be in the prime spot on the borders between the American United Western Hemisphere and the Holy Islamic State in the East. Both sides were vying for the last pieces of land, made up of England, France, Spain and the Northern part of the African Continent and England found itself right in the middle of the conflict. Invaders from both sides poured in from all corners and those who demonstrated against amalgamation were treated harshly. Farra’s mother was one such victim and feeling no love for a child conceived in anger and hatred put her up for adoption three days after the birth. She tried to get her pregnancy terminated but the clinics and hospitals were overflowing with victims of the conflict and no one was interested in a young woman who couldn't keep her legs closed.
As Farra was adopted by a lovely American couple, the Duncans and grew up in what was now part of the American United West she was lucky to enjoy many opportunities to fulfil a life of military service. Both of her adopted parents served; her mother as a medic on an emergency aid outpost situated on the fourth moon of Algeron Prime and her father rose up through the ranks of the Deep Space Military Service Corps. They met when he was taken to the Algeron Medical outpost after being wounded in action against a band of renegades on Algeron 6. Once they found they couldn’t have children naturally, they decided to return to Earth and adopt and so Farra found a loving family with the Duncans and the foundations for her ultimate destiny.
She excelled in the military, especially in combat skills of various kinds and her father was very proud to practice with her in the garden of their home. She gave him many bruises and he soon became aware that there was really no need for him to be soft with her. She carried a few of her own bruises from these sessions and even a permanent scar from a knife wound he gave her. She pleaded with him to get real with her during these practice sessions and he eventually relented, confident of her abilities. He started easy, playing safe with her until she easily sliced through the seam of his pants from front to back, leaving him standing there with his underwear showing. From that moment on he got a bit tougher with her and one day she got sloppy and he gave her a one centimetre scar on her left earlobe.
“That could’ve easily been your throat, you got sloppy kiddo. If you’re too tired, step back and let a colleague shield you till you get your wind back.”
“Okay Pops, yeah I know. You want some lemonade?”
He was proud to be there for her the day she got her bronze arrow for bravery. She was in the DSTU’s for just 5 months when they were sent to Nebugord Prime for a very covert operation and she found herself alone and stranded, surrounded by hostile alien forces. Her commanding officer was captured and was being tortured so badly she could hear his screams from a mile across the valley floor where she was hiding out. Alone and single handed, she went in, dealt with the hostiles, rescued the officer and got them both out and back to safety. As she stepped forward to have the little bronze arrow pinned to her lapel, her father thought he would burst with pride. She wore that little pin everywhere; it was her most prized possession.
She loved her career in the DSTU’s. Every place she visited and every people she encountered taught her something she was grateful for. She had insight and was always aware of the interconnectedness of everything. Even when encountering a very hostile situation she would always look for what she thought of as the gift; that small wisdom so subtle that it is easily missed and would sometimes make a note of the more profound of these moments in a personal journal. Her journal was much like Vincent’s own; a small book in which she would write her observations, thoughts and the more memorable moments of her life. She would sometimes leaf back through it and relive some her experiences. There was one she re read more often than any other.
January 15th (earth calendar., location – Sigma Prime, duty – retrieval of escapee from Parkazy Penitentiary. 0715 – Received transmission via secure channel – Dad passed away 4 days before Christmas. Jesus no! Can’t go home until escapee secured. Damn his hide, he’s so gonna pay when I find him! Now I’m all alone.
She took a month compassionate leave to return home to Earth to bury her father, who was being kept in cryo storage until her return. Her mother passed the year previous after a brief illness and although she mourned her, she was never as close with her mother as she was with her father. She was daddy’s girl and she gave him a wonderful send off with full military honours as befitting a veteran of his standing. She kept her composure all the way through the long service until the moment came for her to receive his medals from the Unit Commanding Officer. That’s when she lost it. Often when she was on foreign soil on a planet far from home she thought of her dad and those medals and they helped her be strong. She remembered him saying to her, “keep sharp kiddo, keep sharp," and she kept sharp.
She retrieved the little book that once belonged to Vincent R Domenico and read some more. She wanted to get a real feeling of the man; his thoughts and feelings and what made him tick. He was an enigma and she had to admit it, she was intrigued by him. She wondered what he looked like, how he sounded, was he good looking, sexy even? She smiled to herself and said aloud, “shut the fuck up you idiot.”
Vincent’s entries in the first few months of his employment on Moxal 3 showed her how quickly he was able to get a handle on people and the way they operated, their motivations and aims. He seemed to find it easier to know what people tried to hide, than what they showed willingly. One entry made during his third week on the job showed this clearly.
Hunter asked me if I wanted to spend my first leave with him on Grinmore 4 for some big game hunting. He said he asked me cos I’ve no family. What the fuck does he want?
It was obvious to Farra that the guy was being friendly, but Vincent couldn’t see it that way and automatically assumed Hunter had an ulterior motive for asking him. That told her a lot about the way his mind worked and she made a mental note: suspicious of everyone and everything. At the same time though, she felt sad for him. His life, what she knew of it anyway, was so full of trauma in various guises that it’s little wonder the guy’s a bit suspicious of people. His parents were murdered at the moment he was born. Hell, he was murdered himself minutes after birth and thrown onto a rubbish heap to starve for three days until he was found and rescued. If it weren’t for his genetically advanced physical make up and the intervention of the Lilean spirit people, he’d have died. She made another mental note: take my time with this guy, don’t push.
Here and there Vincent would make vague references to voices in dreams and she wondered if his experiences of them were similar to hers. Over the page he went into a little more detail about it and she read it with interest.
The voices and the dreams. Always the same every time. So much fear and rage. People dying, tombstones and a baby crying. The woman telling me something but I can’t hear what she’s saying. Am I going mad, am I crazy?
She understood a little of what she was reading of Vincent’s experiences with the dreams, although the content of his was probably far worse than hers. Her heart went out to him. A couple of pages further on there were further entries regarding money.
Saw McGreedle handing over a pile of money to one of the
SB Reps. Asked him what it was for. Was told you ain’t seen nothing Domenico, get back on the job.
He made five entries in two days all about seeing money changing hands. The third of these entries again brought up the mysterious SB Rep.
Heard McGreedle talking to the SB Rep again today. Heard him say ‘here’s twenty five hundred more, there’s no more till next month, tell the boss that’s all we have.’ That means in two days McGreedle has handed over more than 4000 to this guy. Why is the company handing over cash now, the SB Weapons contract is always done by auto transfer? Something’s not right here. Gotta keep eyes and ears open now.
It was at this point that Vincent decided to use covert means to record what he was seeing and hearing and called in a couple of favours and got himself a tiny camera that looked like a shirt button and an audio recording device that clipped invisibly to his night sight goggles. The solar powered battery packs were quickly recharged with just 30 minutes of sun exposure, so he took to taking his breaks on the surface.
Called up a couple of guys who owe me. Got a cute little camera that looks exactly like a button from my uniform shirt and an audio pod the size of my thumb nail. Will fix to my UV goggles perfectly. Solar charge – 30 mins per 24 hours. Will take break topside once a day, maybe practice a little tapshots. Gotta sew this button on.
She didn’t know what Tapshots was, but she made another mental note to find out. She was discovering that Vincent was both focussed and methodical once his interest got piqued.
She got up, showered and dressed and went looking for her new friends. She went to get some breakfast and found Byron there enjoying what looked like a bowl of red jelly. She looked at it and wondered why on earth anyone would want to eat red jelly for breakfast. He noticed her looking.
“It’s called what can be roughly translated as food of life,” he explained.
“Food of life?”
“Yeah, food of life. It’s a highly enhanced and fortified extract of human blood. Blood is life, hence food of life.” He looked into her eyes with a dead pan expression. “We still have the err, tools of the trade,” he said as he opened his mouth displaying his fangs, “but it’s no longer de rigueur to tear throats from living victims.”
She was stunned at the matter of fact way he explained all this to her, like he was describing how to iron a shirt.
“Oh, I see, errm, okay.” She hoped she didn’t sound as taken aback as she was. She was just about to change the subject when he burst out laughing.
“Sorry I couldn’t resist,” he said between guffaws. “The look on your face, oh my god that’s hilarious.” He banged on the table as he laughed.
“You bastard,” she yelled and went to smack him around the ear. He deftly avoided her strike and grabbed her wrist to avoid getting himself a black eye.
He was still laughing as he apologised. “Oh my god. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t know what to say.” She was cross but saw the funny side and laughed with him. “How dare you, I’ll get you back for that, just see if I don’t.”
He was still laughing but nodded. “Yeah I don’t doubt that,” he giggled. “You want some? It’s just fruit extract and it’s delicious, really.”
After breakfast he told her that the data cube was finished being streamed and that a meeting was to be held to discuss its contents in thirty minutes. He also said he had a surprise in store for her, something that would be of great interest to her but he wouldn’t be drawn as to what it was. They made their way to the obs room to find Lomas, Toma, Doctor Jam and a few others waiting for them.
“Good morning my dear," Lomas smiled. "I hope you are well rested and ready for another day. We’re all waiting eagerly to see what Vincent has given us in this little cube.” He smiled at her like a father.
“Yes thank you,” she lied, deciding not to tell him about the nightmares just yet. “I’m ready for anything.”
“Good good, okay Byron what do you have for us? The floor is yours.” Byron went over to a low table upon which was a box about a foot square. He touched a few places and lights appeared all over it. From the top streamed an eerie white light which fanned out into a spray about three feet wide in the air above it. A few beeps and then they could clearly see people moving about and talking within this fan of white light. Farra was amazed.
“Wow that’s incredible,” she said aloud. Byron explained to her that what she was seeing was a holographic video stream. Effectively a 3D moving video of everything the tiny camera on Vincent’s shirt button saw. It looked solid from any direction you looked at it. “My god,” was all she could think of to say. The Drycenians looked at each other and smiled. They watched as a door opened and the camera entered a small room. A man was seated behind a desk and was talking to another who stood against the far wall. The talking stopped as the camera entered and the man behind the desk looked up.
“Three days from now, that was the agreement. Ahh Domenico, good, come in. Here are some new work order rotations for your team. Distribute them to your boys and work the new hours okay?” The camera gave a good shot of the whole interior of the room and everyone could plainly see everything that was going on. Another voice could be heard; one that did not sync with either of the two men in the shot.
“New rotations Sir? We’ve only just had new ones two days ago. We’re up for our seventy two hour break tomorrow.” That voice was like velvet, soft and slow and so deep Farra thought she could fall into it and drown.
“That must be Vincent talking,” she said to her friends who all nodded in agreement.
“Never mind that,” the man behind the desk barked. “Things have changed now. You and your team are to work these new rotations, no arguments. That’ll be all Domenico.” The man behind the desk turned to face his companion who hadn’t spoken throughout this short exchange. He reached behind him for a small package. The other man came over to the desk and reached for it but as he took it, he looked at the camera suspiciously. The man behind the desk looked round and shouted at Vincent. “That will be all Domenico.” The clip ended.
There were two hundred clips of film, all showing people meeting together, packages being handed over and after the first forty or so clips, stacks of money being packed up and handed over. One clip showed a group of five men studying a big chart on the wall which the camera showed to be a map of the mine complex. The men were concentrating on one area in particular and discussing storing something there.
“My god, that’s where I was held. They must be discussing me or where they were planning to keep me,” Toma exclaimed.
Throughout all the clips the friends watched so far, the same faces and names kept coming up. The man who sat behind the desk in that first clip turned out to be McGreedle. The quiet shady character who took that first package from him was identified in later clips as the SB Rep who was known as Bullet. This guy would often make references to someone whom he called The Boss, but this person was not yet identifiable. There then followed a clip showing what was obviously Vincent walking through the mine complex. No voices could be heard so the friends assumed he was alone. Along tunnels and down companionways he went until he came to a door in the wall that Farra recognised as part of what was called the bunkhouse by the workers. It was an area of the complex made into rooms where the workers lived during their five week rotational shift patterns. Three men shared a room. Each door had a two number code to identify it. This one was 4-27 which meant level 4 room 27. A hand reached out and knocked on the door, Vincent’s hand. No answer. Another louder knock.
“Bobby. McGreedle wants you and the team up in the office right away,” Vincent called out as he continued knocking. “Bobby. Bobby c’mon guys wake up.” The hand reached down and opened the door, which swung open to reveal a scene of carnage. The three occupants of room 4-27 had been shot from point blank range and all three had holes in their chests that you could p
ass a fist through.
“Oh shit, shit,” Vincent’s voice, the shock clearly evident.
“My god,” Farra and her companions all exclaimed together. They were sickened at the scene the camera was revealing to them but at the same time they were transfixed by it. Vincent walked over to the first body and reached out to touch something. What looked like an oily residue was crusted around the wound in his chest. The hand lifted up and the friends could hear sniffing.
“Trileneum?” they heard him announce with astonishment.
“Trileneum? Oh my,” Farra said and looked at her friends.
Trileneum is a substance that is formed when a weapon called a Hellfire Pulse Laser Cannon is used against living flesh. It doesn’t use physical bullets but uses a type of high energy pulse and creates that oily, crusty residue which smells very distinct. There’s nothing else that smells like that and there’s no other weapon that does that. The group of friends now knew without a doubt where that weapon came from.
"You know what this means don't you?" she said in shock.
Lomas looked sadly down at his hands before speaking. “Yes, the Transmortals,” he said with a sigh.
She was confused now. This new development complicated matters and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Everything seemed simple up until now. She was to rescue Toma, find the book and data cube, find Donaldson, give him the package, get to Lilea and then, well then Leon would give her more instructions as to what she should do when she got there. Now this. A Transmortal weapon was now in the picture. How did this change things? She shook her head to clear the fuzz.
“So, what does this thing mean? Does it change anything and if so, how? I’m confused now,” she said.
“It means that the Transmortals must’ve been involved right from the start," Lomas said, "and that the take over plot involved them, that Toma’s abduction involved them, that Vincent’s frame up involved them, the secret meetings, money changing hands, everything Vincent saw and which he’s given to us in this little cube and the book. They must be at the bottom and the heart of it all,” he explained.
“So,” she continued, “it wasn’t just a take over plot by a crazy man, it was something more than that? It was a plot involving the Transmortals somehow?”
“Yes,” everyone chorused.
“And it would follow that the Transmortals are still involved, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes,” another chorus.
“But I thought the Transmortals were so powerful that they could just wade in and blow everything to hell as and when they liked. Why would they need to be so, so furtive about it?” she asked.
“Why indeed?” Lomas agreed.
“If they were involved it’s no wonder they sent Vincent to Cryo Stasis,” said Byron sadly. “They’d want to make absolutely sure he couldn’t reveal anything. What I can’t understand is why they didn’t just kill him. Why put him in Cryo Stasis where there is always a slim chance he’d escape and reveal all?”
“He did escape,” she said. “Leon told me he escaped and survived and still survives today.”
“This means he’s now in danger from them too then,” Doctor Jam said. “Once they know he’s up and around, they’ll try to get to him and deal with him. It would be a shame to let that happen after what he’s given us here, wouldn’t it?” he looked around at his Drycenian companions who all nodded their agreement.
Lomas looked up, a decision having been made. “Then we will need to find him and keep him safe until this is dealt with, it’s the least we can do.” There were nods of agreement all around and Farra decided that now was an appropriate time to tell them more of what Leon told her.
“Leon told me that while I’m getting the book and cube to Donaldson, you must go and find Vincent as he needs to be present to get cleared of the crimes he didn’t commit. Is that okay with you? Are you okay with being involved?” she asked them.
Lomas didn’t think for long. “Yes it is and we are. When you find Donaldson and give him the book and this cube, tell him it not only involves the Transmortals and the take over plot he has so desperately wanted to deal with for years, but that it involves clearing the name of Vincent and removing the stain from his record.”
The friends spent three more hours going through the rest of the data on the cube. Clips of meetings, conversations about money, references made to hide the package deep in the tunnel complex and scenes of men studying maps and charts. There were also still photographs of documents, work order rotations, accounts, charts and maps. Vincent became so trusted that he was able to access the little room on his own and took full advantage of those opportunities. These documents showed that McGreedle and his party planned to capture Toma and hide him deep inside the mine tunnels, that they changed the work order rotations so that only those they felt trustworthy would be around to see what was going on, that vast sums of money was changing hands and that the Moxal 3 Mining Corporation served as a kind of laundering centre for all of this stolen money. There were also forged galactic passports and personal documentation for McGreedle and five of his closest cohorts. There were many references to this Boss whoever he was but no mention of his real name or his whereabouts was ever forthcoming. At the end of the data string two last video clips remained to be seen. The first of these showed Vincent running along a tunnel with the sound of alarms ringing everywhere. When he rounded a corner he found himself in a blind ended tunnel with another two dead bodies at his feet. The same fist sized hole in the chest, the same oily, crusty residue, the same smell as before.
“Oh shit,” Vincent could be heard exclaiming loudly to himself. Then more running along tunnels and up stairwells until he could be seen entering a room in the residential zone, number 1-8 clearly visible on the door. There was just time to see the door open and Vincent enter into a smallish room with just one bed before the camera shut off. In the last clip Vincent was obviously standing in a tunnel. A pair of hands came into view, Vincent’s hands Farra supposed. Large hands, soft but precise fingers that held onto a small book that Farra recognised as his own notebook. A hand disappeared from view only to return a few seconds later with a small gadget. The other hand came up to the camera and suddenly everything started to shake wildly. Vincent had removed the camera button from his shirt and for a fraction of a second she saw him before the view changed.
“Oh my, Vincent, now I know you better,” she murmured to herself as she fixed that image into her mind. The large expressive eyes that shone with insight and intelligence and even a tiny speck of fear bored into her mind. Help me, those eyes were saying to her. He was tall, well over six feet and very broad across. With massive shoulders and arms like tree trunks he was impressive sight to say the least. Then voices could be heard.
“It’s all here,” Vincent was saying. “The people, the meetings, the money, the documents, conversations and the bodies, all here. You’re the man to understand it, here take it.” There was a pause before another voice could be heard.
“Okay I’ll take it Vincent, but there’s not really anything that I can do about these claims of yours.”
“Just watch the clips and read the notebook, it’s all there. Something is going down in this place and I don’t think I’m gonna be around long enough to get to the bottom of it, but you can. C’mon Donaldson you’ve always been fair to me, what’s the problem here?” Vincent sounded irritated now. So he was talking to Donaldson, trying to get him to take the evidence and do something about it but he didn’t seem too keen to be involved. Farra and her companions were all wondering how much he knew before Vincent’s revelations came to him.
“You don’t understand my position Vincent; you’re not the only one who needs to take care here. Just because I’m in a position of some trust here doesn’t mean I can fix everything that goes wrong. It’s difficult and dangerous.”
“For gods’ sake Donaldson what the fuck is happening here? You’re gonna s
it on your ass while whatever is going down, just goes on all around you and you’ll just close your eyes and carrying on with your filing? I’m the one they think murdered those guys. I’m being set up and you know it.” Vincent was clearly angry now, that deep velvet voice had a distinct and unmistakeable edge. Only the foolhardy would push much further.
Donaldson gave a resigned sigh. “Okay okay I’ll take your evidence but I can’t promise that I’ll be able to do much. Here, give it to me. Now you never saw me, okay?” The sound clicked off and the data stream closed. For a few seconds nobody spoke.
Lomas voiced what they were all thinking. “That must’ve been just before he was taken into Cryo Stasis for the murders. We may be amongst the last to have seen him before that happened. He must’ve felt very alone. I don’t know about anyone else but I’m going to make damn sure I do my best to clear his name.” He looked around the room and everyone nodded in agreement.
Farra now felt as though she was really beginning to get to know Vincent Domenico. He was a hell of good looking man, damn was he fit! She thought of his eyes that so briefly looked into hers on the last video clip. My god she could fall right into his eyes and never be seen again, she thought to herself. She felt a surge of compassion as she thought of the position he found himself in and how he must have felt knowing that by trying to do right, he’d been set up as a murderer and would possibly pay with his life for something he didn't do. Parentless, friendless, homeless and rootless and still struggling with the voices in the dreams and thinking he was going crazy and now possibly going to be executed. She wanted to cry for him. A voice cut into her meditations and brought her back to reality. It was Byron.
“Remember I told you I had a surprise for you?”
*****