Into the Void: The Creation of Jack, #2

Prologue

D octors, can we have a little less arguing and a little more focus, please? The young officer uncrossed and re-crossed his legs to keep the blood circulating.

I don’t think we need your input, Sergeant. Unless you have a degree in quantum physics.

I don’t get paid enough to pull night owl for three months, listening to you backslapping each other’s scientific manhood.

Right, because you’re the irreplaceable one on this project!

Rapp, stop letting him bait you. These readings are getting stronger.

I told you, you’re picking up dirty static from those Green Peace hippies.

Dr. Rapp, maybe you’d better take a look at those readings. The young Sergeant spoke sarcastically.

As for you, Sergeant Clayworth, Dr. Kappur spoke drily, I don’t think your father sprung you into this classified lab so you could mouth off to your seniors.

Maybe I don’t see how playing nighttime security is going to advance my military career, no offense to present company intended.

None taken, Sergeant. Your pathetic, narcissistic ramblings give me daily reminders of why my research is so important to me.

Kappur, what on earth are you doing? Dr. Rapp burst out in irritation.

It’s not me!

What’s going on, doctors? Sergeant Clayworth stood to his feet for the first time in five hours. Even he could interpret some of the wildly blinking lights on the computer monitors in front of him.

Power’s climbing!

None of our generators are that efficient.

Where’s the power coming from?

An event horizon’s forming!

Did you initiate that?

It must be initiating from the other side.

Other side?! Sergeant Clayworth primed his weapon and opened the sealed door behind him to address the two guards outside. Stand by. We may have action in the lab.

Take it easy, Sergeant. We’re not being invaded.

Do you know that?

It looks like we have a stable wormhole.

How’s this possible?

What’s that?

Incoming matter stream.

You can’t possibly know that! All doubt immediately dissolved when a man appeared in the laboratory. Immediately after the capacitors finally overloaded and the power cut dramatically.

Don’t move, or I will shoot! Sergeant Clayworth shouted authoritatively.

Sergeant, don’t kill anyone! The emergency lights were flicking on.

Can we get the generators back on, please!? Where are the interns?

Harsh, red light now illuminated the stranger. He stood where he had arrived, a satchel hanging from his left shoulder, his hands in the air. His face was chiseled with high cheekbones: black hair, brown eyes, olive skin.

Who are you and where did you come from?

Please, put your weapons down. Their new guest was keeping calm and collected. I’m not a threat to you. I’m here to help.

Where’d you come from?

Alright, listen to me. I’m going to give answers to your questions, but first I need a promise.

You’re not in much of a bargaining position.

Let him speak.

You all work for me.

Real funny.

Give me thirty minutes. If I can’t persuade you in thirty minutes, then you can report this to whoever you need to report this and put me through your trials and procedures. But give me thirty minutes of confidential lockdown.

Dr. Kappur looked at Dr. Rapp,

Do as he says, Rapp ordered Sergeant Clayworth. Kappur nodded in agreement.

Don’t be naïve, doctor, the sergeant snapped back. We don’t even know what’s in that bag.

If he shows you the bag, will you consider it? Kappur asked evenly.

Rapp on the other hand was frustrated as usual.

Sergeant, this is the man who just came through a wormhole, let’s not make the biggest mistake in history, here.

Sergeant Clayworth was clearly thinking.

Sergeant. Dr. Kappur pled subtly with his eyes. But Clayworth was studying the stranger.

Fifteen minutes.

1

Launch Day

Logan’s eyes opened with the first rays of sunlight. The few hours of sleep she had stolen would have to get her through the day—perhaps the week. There would be very little rest for the next month. She had been in meetings all week, after eighteen months’ preparation. But today was the day. Today was the beginning of it all. Today was the first official day of Initial Immigration. She pulled her legs out of the tangle of blankets and sat up on the side of the bed. Better not to think too much about it. Better to just get moving. She had been commuting back and forth between the Station and Earth for the past six months. But the thought of being sedentary in the Station for the near future wasn’t comforting. There was no amount of artificial gravity, or scent replicators, or greenhouses that could trick her into forgetting she was trapped in a cold prism in space. Her mind pushed the thought aside as it always had. There was no merit in dwelling on it. A knock came at the door. Logan finished buttoning up her blazer and then answered it.

You ready? Gregson stood expectantly at the door.

She had recently heard someone describe his face as long, and now she couldn’t help but notice even though she never had before. His sandy hair and blue eyes had always been comforting to her. His easy temperament made him reliable. She had pushed him away once because she thought she scared him. It turned out he didn’t scare easily. But now Logan looked at him hesitantly.

Where’s Druce?

He’ll meet us at the launch site, with Cameron.

She stood thoughtfully for a moment longer then snapped back into motion. Let me just grab my bag. She began to cinch back her hair harshly as Gregson stepped just inside the door.

You get any sleep?

She grunted in response.

I’ve got breakfast in the car.

No comment from her. It didn’t bother him. But when she had pulled together what she needed and was heading toward the door, he stepped in front of her and arrested her attention. Are you ready for this? He saw the lights activate in her eyes like fireworks and could only imagine the memories and thoughts rushing through her head at the speed of sound.

This is my destiny. The reason I’m alive. In an instant, she was back in the mountains of Central Asia with the fog pooling around her like waves around rocks in the ocean, her teacher slinking through the darkness like a shark.

You will never overcome yourself if you always excuse yourself.

You have been dropped into a remote location, guarded lightly by a platoon of enemy troops. Your mission is to clear the immediate area…

There will come a time, when you will find the balance of power in your hands, and you’ll be able to make your own choices…I trust Bailey to make the right decisions in the future.

With a well-practiced effort, Logan firmly shut the door to that stream of consciousness and refocused on Gregson in front of her. It had only been a few seconds, but he was waiting patiently.

Yes, she replied firmly, yes, I’m ready for today.

Gregson gestured for her to lead the way outside. But although Logan had closed that door and chosen the present as she did every day, his question whispered hauntingly to her for most of the drive. For eighteen months she had worn suits and sat in large assembly rooms behind a fashionable little microphone. She had traveled to numerous countries and shook hundreds of hands, many with names that she recognized. Some of them had been her companions in the dark dreams that haunted her during the last phases of her training. Presidents, prime ministers, politicians. Corruption, greed, selfishness, lies, and deceit. And she shook hands with them. She shook hands with them and she spent weeks venting to Druce and running through the night to avoid those nightmares that reminded her of the injustices her new associates had committed. Until one day she collapsed from exhaustion and all that had to stop. She woke up in a soft bed under a down quilt with a drug headache. They didn’t take her to the hospital—they couldn’t afford the bad press. Raindrops were plunking softly against the windowpane. Her eyes had opened to find—not Druce, but Cameron by her bed. Cameron, the brother she had been avoiding. She noted his red eyes. He had lost weight again.

I bet you’re wondering what happened to your little sister…what I did to her. Her voice was weak and husky. Her tear ducts chose this moment to try and drown her eyes.

But Cameron smiled. I remember when Mom gave you those books about the talking animals when you were eight. You barely slept that week because you stayed up so late reading. By the end of the month the covers had fallen off. I got so annoyed because it was all you would talk about. I took a bunch of twigs and made a fake nest. Then I grabbed a carton of eggs and broke them. I told you I had found an abandoned nest and we needed to take care of the babies. But when we got there it had all been destroyed. I told you a fox must have gotten to it. You cried for a week. I felt so guilty that I confessed on the second day, but you still cried for five more days. You’ve always been passionate, Lo—committed to your ideals. You’re still my little sister.

I’m not exactly crying over chicken eggs anymore.

No. No, you’re not. You’re carrying a much heavier burden. I don’t know how to tell you to let it go…

Logan was picking uncomfortably at the comforter, How can I let it go when it’s inside of me?

You are not responsible for what these men and women have done.

But I’m working with them. I’m not doing anything to rectify—

That’s not your job right now. They represent a lot of innocent people. You’re working to give them better lives. And Logan, you can protect their future. You are going to be a huge part of what happens, and what doesn’t happen on that Station. But right now you’re running yourself into the ground, and that’s…irresponsible.

It had been a turning point for her. Impulse, emotion, and passion had to turn into responsibility. Things like slipping a tracking bracelet off and disappearing into the city to gain some peace of mind wouldn’t fly. It wasn’t about her anymore. Gregson’s voice jolted her back into the present.

I didn’t mean to question you.

Logan suddenly realized that she hadn’t spoken the entire ride. No, no it’s fine. I just got lost in thought.

Isn’t that what you were doing? Questioning yourself?

She didn’t look at him. I can’t do this, right now. I can’t think. I just need to move forward—take it one step at a time.

He didn’t reply and presently they were pulling up to their destination. Someone opened the door for her and she climbed out staunchly, re-buttoning her blazer. A few cameras were waiting for her and she gritted her teeth and kept her eyes away. The major lightning storm of cameras was striking fifty feet away. Her eyes quickly spotted the back of Druce’s head. He had let his hair grow out recently. The new added length never seemed to be entirely under his control and right now it gave her a slight sense of satisfaction.

Miss Bailey.

Logan redirected her attention.

We’re just about ready for you. Mr. Finamore’s finishing up his statements. Why don’t you step this way?

She followed obediently. A round of applause broke out and Logan’s eyes drifted back to Druce. He was shaking hands and accepting his vial of sand, which would be poured out, along with the others, onto the balance that would initiate the cutting of the ribbon. It was all very symbolic and ceremonial. And it was all very public and televised, which is why Logan was standing off stage. He had assumed the role naturally—but not for love of attention.

Pretty surreal, huh? Cameron spoke up from beside her. She couldn’t remember when he had arrived, but she knew he was there.

She smiled sadly. I gave up on my expectations for reality a long time ago.

He frowned in response, but someone was calling them. It was time to load into the shuttle. Dignitaries and officials were shaking her hand. She made eye contact with Druce briefly before he was swept past her. And now all her attention was on Cameron. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come.

He smiled. They both knew that it was better if he didn’t. You’re going to be working eighty hours a week. It’ll be easier to finish my degree if I’m actually in class.

She wasn’t saying anything. She didn’t know what to say. It was difficult to describe how she felt when she had heard Cameron was alive. Excitement, elation, and hope were all words that fell short. She called it juvenile now, but for about thirty-six hours she had thought she could reclaim her childhood.

She had been openly resentful when Druce insisted on talking to Cameron first. She never apologized for it, and Druce never expected her to. The dark years, as Logan called them, had taken a different toll on her older brother.

He was gaunt—thinner than she had ever remembered him. His face was pale and hollow, despite the warmth of emotion he showed his sister. Her observant eyes didn’t take long to note the telltale scarring on his forearms.

Over the next few months his health improved. Logan had begun to hope for a full recovery and a new relationship. But then he had begun avoiding her. Druce and Gregson began making excuses for him. She stopped asking questions. Everyone avoided the topic until one day Druce opened and closed it.

You know, I was thinking about it recently…why you didn’t crack in training. He had her attention. Now he was strategizing words.

You helped refocus me, she answered. You gave me the support to work through my emotions.

But when I came to recruit you, you had already come to a place of acceptance.

Riley helped.

Druce shook his head. That wasn’t all of it. I asked myself—what if Sutton hadn’t died?

Her eyes fluttered.

I’m not going to try and over-simplify who you are or what you’ve been through, but I know that his sacrifice for you has driven you to find purpose in your life.

She was breathing deeply.

And even though you’ve suffered a lot, you’ve also been given the tools and gifts to put things right.

Logan began to trace patterns on the floor with her toe.

Cam lost everything, Logan. He thought you were dead along with your parents. And even though he earned his degree it became worthless with your family’s reputation.

She moved her head and he anticipated her thoughts.

It doesn’t justify his choices.

She chewed on her lip.

I know he’s glad to have you back in his life again…

But I can’t help him. I’m his little sister and now I’m this important political figure. And he still doesn’t know what to do with his life.

I’m sorry, Logan. But he has to make his own choices.

And he’s not making good ones right now, is he?

His silence answered the question. Whatever happens Logan, you have people who care about you.

They hadn’t discussed it again after that. Logan backed off in her relationship with Cameron. She knew Druce was right. The more she got involved in his life, the more she would get angry at him. But her anger would drive him away. There really was no question of his immigrating to the Station. Which meant that today she had to say goodbye. She wouldn’t be making trips back to Earth anytime soon. Her relationship with her long-lost brother would have to become digital. Now her eyes were studying his face in the middle of that crowd.

Lo, it’s okay. We’re going to be okay. You know that, right? It’s just going to take some time.

Part of her knew he would be relieved to have her gone. Maybe it was best to put some distance in between them. Their family had been decimated. Those wounds wouldn’t heal easily.

I love you Cameron. She hugged him tightly. Her eyes opened as she was letting him go and landed almost magnetically on a face in the crowd. He wore no uniform, no rank, no insignia. He drew no attention to himself. By all appearances he was just another spectator. But Logan knew the lifeblood he had spilt to see this day happen—the risks, the sacrifices, and the hard work he had poured in to see her happen. And his smirk of satisfaction as his eyes were glued on her sent chills down her spine.

Someone was calling her name incessantly. It was time to go. She looked for Druce, but he was nowhere to be seen—already inside the shuttle. Heaviness filled her body and she forced herself to turn away and be led to her seat. She strapped herself in mechanically and couldn’t seem to listen as the overhead public address system gave a few short instructions. Then the engines fired up and the whole craft began to vibrate. Logan surrendered to the violent shaking and roaring as the craft thrust itself up from the surface of the earth.

2

A Mixed Welcome

The shuttle docked smoothly and Logan was on her feet in an instant. This was her jurisdiction. The fifty passengers filed out to another round of applause—this time from a crowd of five hundred. But up in this world, her role was recognized.

Commander Bailey, welcome aboard. Kolbe stood to her right, smartly dressed with a hand in his pocket. But his eyes were bored.

Looking to stir up trouble, Kolbe?

He looked surprised.

She studied his brown eyes. They were deceptively soothing in tone. Underneath that liquid amber was a sleeping dragon. It had been a difficult decision appointing him as her Chief of Staff. Logan knew he was fully capable of doing the job. That wasn’t the issue. But Druce had been insistent.

He understands you better than most people, Druce argued. And with your similar training, you would work well together. You can trust him, Logan.

But he doesn’t trust me.

Sutton made his own choices. Everyone understands that.

He looks at me like I’m a baby viper.

Druce tried to hold back a smirk. I don’t think he looks at you like you’re a baby viper.

Don’t make fun of me. That was the first thing that came into my head.

Logan, you saved his life in Cambodia. He’s not going to forget that. Kolbe’s just got…a complicated past.

We all do, she said softly.

He needs to be busy doing something constructive. I know he won’t let you down. Please do this…for me?

Those amber brown eyes were trying to read her thoughts now, just as she was trying to read his.

I think you’ve got enough trouble planned for the day. He finally answered her question and looked away. Any further discussion would have to wait. She was being ushered to the center of the floor. A group of men with painted faces were advancing toward her. A small thrill of anticipation chased all other thoughts out of her head.

The first aggressive yells sent alarm through the crowd, but Logan couldn’t help smiling. She didn’t realize it was the main factor in re-establishing calm. The twelve men in front of her continued their unified display of aggression, seemingly oblivious to the response of the crowd. The leader, well known to her even under his war paint, advanced quite close to her, jabbing, thrusting, stamping, and yelling almost directly in her face. His intimidation was unquestionable, but she received none of it. It deflected off her like the powerful waves of the ocean crashing on a rock. And when it finished she was the first to clap. The rest of the assembly joined in a little more hesitantly. The leader stepped forward with a wide grin and clasped Logan’s arm.

When I asked for a haka demonstration I was picturing something a little more private.

Have we disgraced you, Commander?

Not at all.

Still, a true warrior would take your smile as a sign of failure.

Were you aiming for fear?

An impossible target with you, I know.

Have you met my Chief of Staff, Lance Kolbe?

The two men greeted each other respectfully.

We won’t take up any more of your time, Commander. Welcome to the Station.

As if I’ve never been here before. She spoke congenially.

As they proceeded through the room Kolbe whispered in her ear. That may not have been the best choice for a welcoming ceremony.

I thought it was beautiful.

You may be alone in that opinion.

These countries need exposure to each other’s cultures.

The frog will jump out of boiling water, Bailey.

Don’t get metaphorical on me, Kolbe. It doesn’t suit you. Hello, Minister! She made the rounds with the important political figures, slipping in and out of a dozen languages as easily as a duck.

Kolbe observed her with a melancholy air for about twenty minutes before intervening. Excuse me, Commander, but we have to move on with your day.

Thank you, Kolbe. She extricated herself from her present conversation with perfect cultural tact and then followed him out of the room. One glance showed that Druce was still mingling. I’m glad that’s over.

Don’t get too excited. Your day is completely booked with meetings.

Logan didn’t seem to hear him. Her eyes were scouring the architecture of the Station that was now her home as if she’d never seen it before.

The Station itself was composed of four interlocking Segments. Most people didn’t realize it because they were virtually indistinguishable from the inside, and because it wasn’t publicized. But Logan was well aware. There had been discussion about separation, but the arguments and distrust that arose as a result hinted darkly at the implications. This was a fresh start—an attempt to regain some of the unity that used to exist between nations in the old days. The national leaders had come to agree that the first foray into space should be one of international cooperation, not competition. But the option was tucked away and not discarded. Logan knew that any significant failure on her part could easily spark the International Parliament to re-examine the concept. And whenever she crossed through subtle divisions she remembered it.

Blacks and dark shades of gray were the dominant color scheme. The generic flooring was a dark, textured surface. The rib work and support beams peeked out unapologetically from the walls and ceiling. The design favored function and not form. That was the vision of the engineers, anyway. Many of the residents took a different perspective. It