Worlds Away (5 page)

Giving the eleven another assessment, Sang nodded. “I see
what you mean.” The separated men shared common traits: they were all
considered the weakest of the inmates. Over the past few years, Chow Yin had
had to intervene several times to spare them a beating from one of the other
more violent inmates. “Besides, you probably want to leave a few bodies behind
to throw off the scent.” A number of the other prisoners chuckled.

Sian gave Chow Yin a look of panic. Chow Yin did not even
glance in his direction.

General Leong spoke in an authoritative voice. “Gentlemen,
we are embarking on a new chapter in the history of Sol System. Today marks the
first day in the rule of the First Empire of Sol. Please do as I instructed.”

With alacrity, the seventy-one remaining inmates rushed to
the crates and picked up an incendiary canister. As they filed out of the
docking area and back to the main compound, Chow Yin looked up at General Leong.

“Tell me she is safe.”

Nodding, the general said, “It wasn’t easy, Sire, but we’ve
secured her for you. You were correct; she was integral in developing the
weaponized Kinemet.”

“Good.”

After a moment’s hesitation, General Leong said, “I have
other news, Emperor. Klaus has been located. He has made himself a hidden base
on Venus. We believe he has made a breakthrough in the process—”

Chow Yin waved an impertinent hand at him. “That will be our
first destination, then. I trust we have enough resources to accomplish our
objective.”

“Yes, Sire. More than enough. General Zhang has given us his
full support, and he controls over a hundred-thousand troops. We also have four
colonels, six members of the state council, and several private sector CEOs who
have chafed under PRC rule. We have people in every level of government. As you
suspected, all seven nations we reached out to have informally offered support
and a willingness to sign fealty to an imperial charter—it seems the USA, Inc.
stranglehold on future technologies is a sore point with them; they’d like
nothing more than to see the giant fall.”

“Excellent,” Chow Yin said.

Once the last inmate to grab an incendiary left the bay, General
Leong signaled his men surrounding the eleven who had been held back. The soldiers
all raised their pulse rifles.

“Quickly now,” the general said to the eleven in a low
voice, “board the ship. Not a word.”

Confused, the men stared at him.

“Would you rather be shot?” the general asked. “Move it!”

The men, glancing at the soldiers nervously, did as they
were told, and hurried aboard the ship. Sian tried to catch Chow Yin’s eye, but
the self-styled Emperor was wheeling his chair to a control center at the main
bay doors of the prison.

As he tapped out a few commands, one of the prisoners, Sang,
was returning to the dock area from his task. The bay doors began to close.

“Hey!” he called out, and broke into a run. A soldier who
had been standing watch over his Emperor raised his pulse rifle, leveled it at
Sang, and fired. The electric whir of the rifle was followed by a meaty thud as
Sang’s dead body fell to the cement floor. A few other prisoners noticed the
closing doors and the body, and within a few moments, they stampeded for the
docking bay.

The soldier only had to fire two more shots to put down the
lead prisoners before the door closed, locking electromagnetically.

Shouldering the rifle strap, the soldier quickly raced
behind Chow Yin’s wheelchair, grasped the handles, and wheeled his Emperor onto
the ship, which immediately lifted off.

Once Chow Yin was on the bridge, General Leong issued a
command to one of the other officers. “Detonate the incendiaries.”

Chow Yin could not observe the dozens of small explosions
within the prison compound, but he knew the fire would quickly spread throughout
the station and gut the colony.

If there was one thing that serial killer Sang was right
about, there would be plenty of bodies for the Chinese investigators to find.

∞

Sitting in his wheelchair on the bridge of the ship six
weeks after breaking out of the penal station, Chow Yin forced himself to keep
his temper in check.

General Leong carefully watched the monitors at his station
and did not turn around to face his Emperor. If he knew how angry Chow Yin was,
he didn’t give any indication.

First, they’d arrived at Lucis Observatory too late: Klaus
was already dead; his research destroyed. After questioning Klaus’s uncle,
Gruber, they’d learned two things before the man had succumbed to the wounds
sustained during questioning. The first was the general process Klaus had used
to develop the Kinemetic conversion—the Kinemet had to be ‘primed’ somehow.
Secondly, Gruber told them that Major Justine Turner had been converted to a
Kinemat and was on the way to Canada Station Three, where Alex Manez was kept
under military protection.

Chow Yin glanced at Sian, who sat at the main computer
terminal. The programmer had been able to monitor the communications between
the Earth Council and Canada Station Three, and learned about the injunction
against Kinemetic research. He’d also picked up a message that the Arab
Conglomerates were sending a team of observers to CS3—Chow Yin, knowing Alex
and Justine’s history, made a guess that they wouldn’t just sit idly by and
wait to be put under a microscope. “We need to be ready to intercept them,” he
told his crew, and General Leong put in a course for CS3.

His hunch had proved correct: Alex and Justine were trying
to get away from CS3 before the observers arrived, and Chow Yin ordered General
Leong to pursue them.

“How many of the Kinemetic torpedoes do you have on board?” he
asked.

“Three,” the general responded. “If we use them, we’ll
destroy their ship.”

“That’s the idea,” Chow Yin said. “According to Captain
Gruber, no one knows Klaus’s process; the secret died with him. The last thing
we need is for someone to leak the information; we cannot have competition. In
order for us to control space, we need to have a monopoly on the technology;
anyone who is undertaking research must be eliminated.”

“Understood, Sire,” General Leong said, but their efforts to
destroy the
Ultio
and its passengers fell short when, to everyone’s
surprise, their first Kinemetic torpedo detonated before it impacted. When the
general ordered the launch of the remaining two torpedoes, the
Ultio
quantized
and disappeared from normal space.

The silence on the bridge stretched out for several minutes
before Chow Yin finally spoke.

“Well, there is no help for it.” He turned to General Leong.
“We must return to our original plan.”

The general nodded, and gave the order to his pilot. “Lay in
a course to Qin Station.”

Chow Yin swore under his breath, “It’s time I took back what
is rightfully mine.”

∞

Over the following four years, Chow Yin wrested control of
all space operations in Sol System through a combination of force and
misdirection.

His greatest asset was to use the paranoia of Earth’s
nations against them. Before he launched his first strike against Luna Station,
he arranged for the detonation of a Nepali nuclear warhead on Bhutan soil. Key
members of the PRC Parliament, as directed by Chow Yin, called for immediate
sanctions against Nepal.

India, a long-time ally of Nepal, called for sanctions
against China, who then declared war on India. Within months, nearly every
nation on Earth was taking sides, and military conflict was at an all-time
high.

Once the superpowers withdrew the bulk of their military
forces back to Earth, Luna Station was Chow Yin’s for the taking. The most
tenuous moment in his plans for empire came when the United States Space Force
launched a major offensive to retake their four mining stations near the
asteroid belt—which was important to the war effort, since asteroid mining was
the only way to replenish their stocks of metals. Earth had been depleted the
majority of their resources long ago.

Instead of protecting those mining stations, Chow Yin
ordered their complete destruction—which served as a warning to any other
nation that attempted a similar action.

In a public relations move, he relocated all the personnel
on those stations to the Qin Station. He made it a point to have the news feeds
report that there had not been any loss of life in the action. The reality was
that Chow Yin valued those engineers and scientists more than the stations they
worked on.

At the same time, Chow Yin informed every news agency about
the catastrophic losses of Chinese military in the conflict, most of whom had
died at the hands of American soldiers. With world sentiment rising against the
USA, Inc., Chow Yin instructed the members of the PRC state council who were
loyal to him to declare war on USA, Inc.

The declaration went through, and China launched its first
strike—Chinese troops managed to get a foothold on the pacific coast before
finally being repelled from American soil.

The conflict proved an effective distraction, and kept the
news focused on the terrestrial conflict, and away from events in space, which
was what Chow Yin wanted in the first place.

Any vessel—whether military or civilian—launched from Earth
was intercepted, the crew given the choice to swear fealty to the new Emperor
of Sol System, or be ejected into space.

His military strategy, however, was considerably more
successful than his scientific ones. After four years, his team of scientists
was no closer to figuring out the key to Kinemetic conversion. Not that they
hadn’t tried. Chow Yin had no problem coming up with hundreds of ‘volunteers’
for the experiments, none of whom survived.

The furthest they’d been able to push his technology agenda
was to convert Kinemet to a super fuel, giving their ships the ability to fly
at ten times the velocity of ion pulse engines. The first Orca mission to Pluto
had taken nearly six months; Chow Yin’s engineers had developed engines that
would propel their ships from Luna to Pluto in two-and-a-half weeks.

It was not nearly fast enough for Chow Yin. When he received
the communication from the patrol ship he had placed in Plutonian orbit that an
alien vessel had materialized in Sol System space, he longed for
near-light-speed travel.

The captain of the patrol ship reported that the alien
vessel had been destroyed by the minefield they’d placed there.

Grimacing as he listened to the message, knowing the events
described had already occurred four hours previous, Chow Yin breathed a sigh
only when he heard the last sentence:

“…and we have recovered four passengers who used an escape
pod—all humans. We have identified them, and have them in custody. Alex Manez,
Michael Sanderson, Kenny Harriman, and the Mayan historian, Yaxche.

“Sire, your instructions were to destroy anything that
entered Sol’s space, but we wanted to confirm those instructions, considering
the identities of the prisoners.”

This was one time Chow Yin was happy his subordinates did
not completely obey his instructions. With the difficulties he had in
replicating Klaus’s research, having access to those four might give his team
of researchers a catalyst to perfecting the Kinemetic process. The only person
who would have been more beneficial to him was Major Turner. He wondered what
had become of her.

Chow Yin encoded a return message to the patrol ship. “Excellent
work, Lieutenant Gao. You are to return to Luna Station immediately with the
prisoners. We’ll send a relief patrol ship to replace you.”

Once he sent the message, he contacted the lab facility and
informed them to prepare for the impending arrival of their ‘guests’.

8

Qin
Station :

Sol
System :

“Chow Yin?”
Michael
blurted out.

The criminal who had once secretly controlled Luna Station
from the shadows stood in front of them, beaming as if pleased that he had
suitably surprised his guests.

When he’d been arrested on Luna, Chow Yin had barely been
able to get around the station with the aid of a cane. During his trial in
China, the stress of the planet’s gravity had done considerable damage to his
already weakened legs, Michael recalled. At the time of his incarceration, Chow
Yin had been confined to a wheelchair.

Now, Michael saw, he’d been fitted with a full set of
biomechatronic legs, similar to the braces Alex had used on Canada Station
Three. The prosthetics were bulky, making him look disproportionate, but it
gave him the ability to walk around under his own power.

Chow Yin did so, stepping forward amid the mechanical hum of
the electronic pistons, and nodded to Michael. “Mr. Sanderson, welcome back to
Sol System. I see you’ve noticed my new legs. My engineers just fitted me with
them. Tell me, do they make me look too tall?”

Michael ignored the question. “Why have you kidnapped us?”

The Emperor only widened his smile. He turned to the others.
“Kenneth Harriman, Yaxche, pleased to have you join us.”

A thousand thoughts raced through Michael’s mind. The last
he’d heard, Chow Yin had been sent to a penal station on the L3 point on the
opposite side of the Sun. In the span of four years, Chow Yin went from
prisoner to Emperor. Michael wondered at the events that had led to this
development.

Alex took a step back. “I won’t do it.”

“Now, now,” said Chow Yin. “I had hoped we could be civil.”

At first, Michael didn’t know what they were talking about,
but a moment later, it came to him. Assuming it was Chow Yin’s engineers who
had advanced Kinemet technology to the point where they could fly a ship from
Pluto to the asteroid belt in two weeks, they still hadn’t mastered the element’s
superluminal aspect. As powerful as Chow Yin had become, carving out his own
empire, it was obvious he still had not been able to develop a Kinemat.

That’s why he’d captured them, instead of killing them. Alex
was the only living Kinemat in Sol System, though he was not fully converted.
They would need him for study. Kenneth had been working with Alex, and was one
of the brightest quantum physicists in the community. Though Quantum Resources
had made recordings of Yaxche’s recitation of the Song of the Stars in Mayan,
it was more than likely they had not allowed those to get into Chow Yin’s
hands. Without the musical recipe, they could spend a century trying to get the
frequencies correct to prime Kinemet for a transformation.

The Emperor needed Alex, Kenny, and Yaxche.

He did not need Michael, and proved it a moment later when
he nodded to one of the soldiers near him. The man raised his rifle, aiming
directly at Michael’s head.

Chow Yin said, “I had a banquet planned, where we could have
something to eat while we negotiated our partnership. It’s disappointing that
you’ve brought us to the ultimatum stage so quickly. You’re taking all the fun
out of it, Alex.” With a look of forced patience, he spoke slowly. “You will
help us, or your friend will die. There. Is that simple enough for you?”

Michael gritted his teeth. “Don’t do it, Alex. Don’t give
this madman anything.”

“Ah, I see you think I am bluffing. I assure you. I am not.”
The Emperor’s expression turned grave. “A demonstration is in order.” To the
soldier, he said, “Kill Mr. Sanderson, if you would be so kind.”

“No!” Alex shouted, and instinctively tried to push Michael
out of the line of fire.

Kenny was a second faster, and hit Michael with his body.
The ion pulse that was meant for the older man seared through Kenny’s chest,
instantly killing the physicist.

Alex changed direction, reaching out to catch Kenny’s
falling body. A cry of outrage and despair escaped him.

“You murdered him!” he yelled, though the words came out
incoherently.

Michael, who had recovered his balance, slowly stood up
straight. He couldn’t believe Kenny was dead. A primal savagery began to grow
inside him. Thought did not control his actions. On pure instinct, he launched
himself at Chow Yin with only the image of his hands wrapped around the
self-styled Emperor’s neck to fuel him. He had no care that he would most
likely be shot dead by a soldier before he got more than half way to their
leader. Kenny had never hurt anyone. He didn’t deserve to be cut down like an
animal.

Instead of shooting Michael, the soldier who had killed
Kenny reversed his rifle and hit him with the butt square in the head. Michael
fell to the floor in a heap. His head exploded with pain, but the blow hadn’t
knocked him unconscious.

“I see you continue to test my resolve,” Chow Yin said.
“Perhaps we need to repeat the lesson.”

Michael slowly looked up; any action sent waves of agony
through him, and a sickening nausea gripped his guts.

“Leave him alone,” Alex said. “I’ll cooperate.” A moment
later, he added, “On one condition.”

“Yes?” Chow Yin asked.

“Send them all home.” Alex, who had knelt beside Michael to
check on his friend, stood up. “Send them back to Earth. I’ll give you what you
want.”

It took Michael a moment to understand the words. “No,” he
said in protest, his voice weak. “Don’t give the bastard the satisfaction. I’d
rather die than give him that kind of power.”

“What you fail to realize, my dear Mr. Sanderson, is that
the power has always been mine. Alex’s decision was inevitable.” Chow Yin
turned around on his biomechatronic legs and walked away.

∞

Michael was brought back to the infirmary, two soldiers on
either side of him grasping him by the arms. The blow to the head had been hard
enough that he didn’t have any fight left in him now, even if he’d wanted to do
anything.

The soldiers led Alex and Yaxche in a different direction,
while several other guards brought in a gurney on which they loaded Kenny’s
body.

The suddenness of the young man’s death was almost too much
for Michael to process. He’d only known Kenny for a short time, but the two of
them had worked very well together. The younger man was extremely intelligent,
and as far as Michael was concerned, he would have had a brilliant career ahead
of him.

Grief and regret edged into Michael’s consciousness as he
realized he didn’t even know whether Kenny had any family. He should have taken
the time to get to know the other man better.

Chow Yin. Michael couldn’t wrap his mind around it. How had
he escaped the penal station? How had he enlisted so many to his mad cause? How
had he managed to wrest control of space from the nations of Earth? There were
a hundred other questions he had. Ignorance was as big an enemy to Michael as
Chow Yin. Without more information, Michael was at a complete disadvantage; he
was at their mercy.

After strapping Michael onto the infirmary bed by the
forearms and ankles, the soldiers stood guard until Doctor Naysmith returned.

“Back so soon?” the doctor asked, with that same innocent
smile on his face. “Oh, it looks as if you’ve had an accident.”

“How can you work for these animals?” Michael asked. “They
murdered Kenny right in front of me.”

“Sad to hear it.” The doctor pulled out a tray from one of
the rolling cabinets and extracted a few sheets of medical absorbent cloths. He
stood over Michael and examined the head wound.

His voice low in a growl, Michael said, “Chow Yin is a
madman who wants more than to rule the world; he wants to rule the entire
universe. If you work for him, you’re just another traitor.”

While he gently placed the cloth on the injured spot to soak
up the excess blood, Doctor Naysmith leaned in and said, “My life is medicine.
It’s all that matters.” He continued to work on Michael, maintaining his smile.
“I took an oath: ‘I will not permit considerations of religion, nationality,
race, gender, politics, socioeconomic standing, or sexual orientation to
intervene between my duty and my patient.’ Everyone has a right to medical
treatment, Mr. Sanderson, even madmen.”

Doctor Naysmith reached into the tray again and retrieved a
laser suture gun. He pointed it at the gash on Michael’s head and pressed the
trigger.

There was an uncomfortable pulling sensation that grew more
painful as the skin on his forehead mended. Just when Michael thought he couldn’t
handle it anymore, the doctor finished the procedure.

“There,” Doctor Naysmith said, giving Michael a pat on the
shoulder, “good as new.”

∞

It was a few hours later when the soldiers came for him.
With ruthless efficiency, they unstrapped him from the gurney. Michael hadn’t
seen Doctor Naysmith since he’d tended his head wound, and there was no sign of
him now.

The soldiers didn’t give him time to get his balance. When
his pace proved too slow for them, two of them grabbed his arms and dragged him
out of the infirmary.

“You’re ripping my arms out of their sockets,” Michael said,
not expecting his words to have any effect.

“We’re almost there,” the squad leader said, as if to
reassure him that the discomfort was temporary.

They led him through the halls and back to the elevator,
though this time they descended to the lower levels. When the doors opened,
Michael saw that they were in the main docking bay area.

Yaxche was there, standing beside a metal casket. The moment
Michael’s guards let his arms go, he hurried over to the old man. The soldiers
fanned out, rifles at the ready, but they didn’t stop him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, and felt a surge of relief
when Yaxche nodded.

“Ahyah. They only wanted me to tell them my story.”

Lowering his voice, Michael asked, “The Song of the Stars?”

Nodding, Yaxche said, “Alex said to go ahead and do so; that
it would make no difference.”

That puzzled Michael, and he gave Yaxche a quizzical look.
The Mayan shrugged one shoulder. “Alex could have sung it from memory, but I
think he wanted a chance to say goodbye to me.”

Michael put his hand on the casket. “I feel bad for Kenny.”

“He makes the final journey. I do not worry; his is a wise
spirit.”

The sound of boot steps got Michael’s attention, and he
looked around to see Lieutenant Gao approach.

“Mr. Sanderson, I’ve been assigned to transport the three of
you to Luna Station, where you will then be put on a rapid transit capsule,
which we will send to the Nova Scotia Space Port. I trust you will not resist,
or cause any trouble during the flight. I would rather not put you into bio
stasis again.”

Michael took a deep breath, then nodded. “You have my word.”
He glanced at Yaxche, who gave the lieutenant a toothy smile.

“Good,” Lieutenant Gao said. He took one measured step back,
and gestured toward where his ship was docked. “If you will follow me, we’ll
get you situated in secure quarters. The flight will last approximately three
days, and the capsule trip should take less than twelve hours.”

They trailed behind Lieutenant Gao as he led them to his
ship, while the Solan soldiers followed, watchful for any transgression.

In the ship, one of the officer’s quarters had been
converted to a temporary detention area. It was cramped for two people, but at
least they had some privacy.

Michael wanted to share his theories on what had happened in
Sol System, but Yaxche didn’t seem very interested in conversation or company.

At one point, Michael asked if there was anything wrong with
him, to which Yaxche shook his head. “I have not had much time for meditation,”
he told him. “I am a simple man; I am not used to all this excitement. I only
wish to go home.”

Once they reached orbit around the Moon, they were given an
hour to stretch their legs before they were taken to the capsule area of the
ship.

Lieutenant Gao was there to see them off. “I can’t promise
you it will be a smooth ride,” he said. “It will only get rougher when you hit
the atmosphere. If you make it through that without any serious damage, you
should be fine. We’re aiming for a splashdown off the coast of Nova Scotia. I’ve
been authorized to notify your government of your return; they should be
waiting for you.”

Michael’s diplomatic side compelled him to say something.
“Unlike certain others, you’ve treated us decently, Lieutenant.”

“Of course,” the lieutenant said with a slight nod.

“It’s not too late to change your ship’s course. Come with
us. Turn yourself in. I will speak on your behalf.”

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid my loyalty is unwavering.”

Michael said, “I understand.”

With that, he and Yaxche got into the rapid transit capsule
and waited as two soldiers strapped them in securely. A moment later, they
sealed the hatch, and darkness surrounded the two passengers.

The power of the sudden thrust as they were launched into
space toward Earth was surprising to Michael, even though he was expecting the
terrific forces pounding his body.

It was nothing compared to the shock he got twelve hours later,
after landing in the Atlantic Ocean. When his rescuers opened the hatch of the
capsule and pulled him and Yaxche out, a military police officer slapped
handcuffs on the two of them.

“Michael Sanderson,” the officer said, “you are under arrest
for the crime of treason against Canada Corp.”