Balance of Power: The Blackened Prophecy Book 2 Page 2

  “I don’t think we have that many spare parts left anyway. We need to go and buy some wood.”

  “Probably.” Brother Cavil nodded. “I believe the admiral gave away most of the junk they salvaged from those wrecked hangars and ships. The rest, they needed to patch the ship.”

  “We cannibalized enough of her superdreadnought.” Ray sighed and put his cup away. “I’ll visit the market.”

  “You should take care of your home.”

  Home… When it became clear they would be staying, Admiral Conway had disbanded the crew except for the core personnel, allowing them to build homes on the surface. Ray admired the decision. He admitted to himself he needed the feeling of a safe haven, no matter how illusory it was.

  Something is out there and coming for us. For me.

  If Admiral Conway had insisted on driving the discontented crew on an impossible quest, it would eventually turn into a mutiny. Now, it’s a small colony.

  They had a market, a praying room, a blacksmith, and carpenters helping to build homes. The economy was based on barter, but it was working. Better than the old world, Ray realized. Soon, people would start having babies. The babies would grow into children, who would grow up to be adults who would only ever know New Eden.

  “I am glad someone taught you how to farm.”

  “My grandparents,” Ray said. “They were good people.” Ray’s eyes caught dancing leaves on the trees marking the edge of his farm through the window. He was making a living, just him and his vegetable fields, mostly keeping to himself. Luckily, he had found a whole storage area of vacuum-sealed seed packets on board, to be used in an emergency crash. Most of the seeds ended up finding the climate and soil agreeable, surprisingly, and the things he had learned as a child came in handy. Cucumbers, tomatoes, parsley, chard, and cabbages. His cabbages especially seemed to be enjoying the planet’s soil. He wished he could thank his grandma for her education on preserving and canning and his granddad for teaching him the trade tools. Perhaps I should plant a tree in their name. He wished he had the chance to do a good many things. A good many things differently.

  “Ray,” the old man snapped him out of his trance.

  “Mm?”

  “Something is happening.” Brother Cavil’s face was stern.

  “What?” Ray came closer to the window. “The birds?”

  The old man pointed at the line of trees in the distance, or at the thing just beyond it, hovering over New Eden.

  REUNITED

  “Is that what I think it is?” Ray reached for the sweater on the sofa. Another memory from Sarah.

  “How should I know?” Brother Cavil protested. “You are a captain of ships. It is you who should know these things. I am a priest.”

  The priest was agitated, and Ray understood why. He looked through the window one more time. “Yes, it’s a cargo ship, all right. Consortium banner, by the looks of it.”

  A few ships had appeared the days following their crash—poor souls sucked into the destroyed Baeal gate’s unstable vacuum like the superdreadnought. Damaged beyond repair, their landings were more like a natural outcome of gravity. Ray and the engineers found during salvaging, the engines and navigation systems were all fried. None of the surviving crew or passengers knew where they were, and just like Ray and Deviator’s personnel, they were stranded and joined the community. Now, almost a year later, a ship was landing and, regardless of its appearance, was still flying.

  “Come on, old man.” Ray rushed to the door without waiting for a reply. He heard the priest huffing and puffing behind him, trying to catch up.

  They made their way to the opening in the woods near the edge of New Eden. Following earlier shuttles' arrivals, Admiral Conway had ordered a squad of marines to clear a gap in the dense forest, enough to land a small transport. Ray had feared a dreadnought—or worse, another superdreadnought—might show up right on top of them and barge into their new home, but no one had come. Until now.

  By the time they reached the clearing, a sizeable crowd had gathered. Right on top of them, the transport descended slowly. Ray noticed the burn marks on the hull plating, similar to those of Baeal weapons, but the ship looked good despite the battle wounds and the dense, black smoke. The engines' deafening sound faded as she sat on her gear, the tired machines lowering their moan into a restful hum.

  Ray and Brother Cavil rushed toward the forward lines, pushing people aside as gently as possible. Everyone was excited about seeing new faces, perhaps even a family member. Ray knew that out of twelve billion people, most stranded back on Earth, finding your relative in a small transport ship was a hopeless, romantic dream.

  The doors hissed and the docking ramp lowered. Admiral Conway was already at the front of the crowd with the marine squad pointing their weapons at the ship.

  “What is going on?” the priest asked as they reached the bunch, still trying to catch his breath. “Admiral? Is this necessary?”

  The woman nodded at Brother Cavil and Ray, unsurprised at their sudden appearance. “Would you rather be unprepared for something unwanted coming through that door, Brother?”

  Brother Cavil pursed his lips but nodded in agreement.

  It felt like ages to Ray before the doors opened, and time seemed to stop as people poured down the ship’s docking ramp. They were humans all right, in miserable shape. The ship's captain—second in command, Ray judged by the torn uniform—fell on his knees as he saw the gathered crowd and sobbed uncontrollably.

  “Well, if this is a Baeal trick, it is a new one,” Admiral Conway muttered, waving the soldiers to attend the newcomers.

  Women and children emerged timidly, squinting in the bright sunlight. Their stink could be smelled all the way from the tree line, and Ray didn’t want to know the details of their journey. In the blink of an eye, the anxious wait turned into a humanitarian aid effort, with everyone assisting the newcomers, carrying them toward the shelters. Most were in terrible condition; sick, weak, and malnourished. It was nothing short of a miracle to survive this long in an overcrowded transport ship. Ray’s eyes were saddened with sudden realization. The procession slowed and eventually ended. Only two hundred souls. The transport looked like it could carry over a thousand, if not twice that number. He walked toward Admiral Conway, who was speaking to the captain.

  “…We were adrift for almost six months,” the man was explaining—more like babbling. “At first, things were fine, but eventually, people started questioning the way of things. We had no communication with the Consortium command on Earth. We weren’t even sure there was a Consortium left after the battle. And then, the fights began.” His last words were barely understandable through his sobs. His tears made bright streaks on his dirty cheeks. His clothes smelled like piss and other things Ray didn’t want to think about. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank the gods.”

  “How many of you were on board?” Ray asked.

  The man looked at Ray as if he hadn’t noticed him. His voice hardened. “Twelve hundred,” he answered.

  “There are barely two hundred people here,” Rebecca said, nodding at the defeated crowd, voicing Ray’s thoughts.

  The battered man hesitated. “Things… got complicated.”

  The admiral looked askance at the man. Her commanding presence hadn’t lost its edge after all this time, causing the transport captain to perspire.

  “The captain”—the man stuttered—“I mean, the actual captain did not see eye to eye with the rest, and soon, people started to talk. At first, it was mere whispers, but it eventually turned into fights.” He looked in pain to Ray. It was not physical pain, but he wouldn’t forget the memories anytime soon as if torn apart from the inside. Nightmares, more likely. “People killed each other over food. Some died of diseases. Some fought over women selling themselves for food. Some”—he paused— “some became food.” The man’s words died in his mouth with each horrible memory he relived, his shoulders shaking from his sobs.

  “Easy, son.” Brot
her Cavil put a hand on his shoulder, but his attempt to comfort made the man jump in fear.

  “How did you end up as the captain?” Rebecca demanded, apparently unaffected by the drama before her.

  The man looked down. “I killed the captain.”

  Brother Cavil’s eyes widened. He stepped back from the sorry man as if he had touched a poisonous snake, but Ray locked him in place with a stare. Not now.

  Rebecca kept her voice calm. “Why?”

  “He tried to—” The man muttered at first, then raised his head without guilt. “He tried to buy an eight-year-old boy in exchange for two meals.”

  “By the Light,” the priest covered his mouth with his hand. “What has become of our kind?”

  Rebecca waved at the two soldiers standing behind her, “Gentlemen, take this man to the infirmary and have him treated with the others.” She nodded at the poor man and patted his arm like a caring mother, “It is over, now take some rest and eat. We shall talk more later.” She watched the man stumble beside the two Marines for a while before speaking again. “Brother,” the admiral rubbed her temples, sighing, “I will need you to prepare a passenger manifest of the transport. We need to better understand who we are letting into our community.”

  “Of course, Admiral.” The priest nodded his head. “But I am not sure I got your meaning.”

  The admiral spoke without turning her head, still inspecting the ship. “What was that saying? Gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.” She turned to look the old man in the eye, “These men and women were too long lost in their fight for survival. Conflict might have become a habit. The last thing we need here is chaos, especially when people might question the means of flying this ship and the authority structure, considering there is no Consortium left to uphold its laws.”

  Brother Cavil’s face darkened, and he gave a firm nod, leaving without another word.

  Admiral Conway turned to Ray. “Good to see you out of your cave. What do you make of this?”

  Ray shrugged. “Two hundred more mouths to feed and jobs to create.”

  The woman smirked in agreement.

  “I doubt the—” his words were cut short by a young woman waddling toward them, one of Admiral Conway’s soldiers following behind her. Twitching and crying, she was barefoot, covered in dirt, and dressed in what looked like an old rug over her shoulders. Her golden hair was blackened with mud, and the spots on her clothes suggested feces.

  “R—” she coughed. “Raymond Harris?” Her voice was fragile, cracking on each word.

  “Huh?”

  The girl’s eyes were wet. She took another cautious step toward him and almost fell on her face, still sobbing. Ray caught her, and the miserable girl’s eyes met his.

  “Dad?”

  DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY

  Ray had to rub his eyes one more time. His daughter was really sitting in his living room. Elaine looked frail, battered, but she was alive and here. Ray didn’t doubt her appearance had to do with him being the Lohil, and for once, he was thankful for that whole prophecy thing. Maybe I should touch the stones and thank them, or thank fate. Perhaps I should accept the gifts.

  Her blonde hair was dirty, browned in spots, and her green eyes were distant when she first came. She probably needed medical attention, but the warm bath Ray prepared and a good night’s sleep worked miracles. He pulled out some towels, folding them clumsily, and found an old military shirt from one of the drawers. When Elaine came out of the bath, she looked refreshed. Still fragile, but standing a little stronger. There was a lot to discuss—lots of lost time—but he was genuinely feeling happy for the first time since Sarah left.

  “I’m sorry, it took a while to warm the water in the backyard, dear. Our tech is not too advanced here.”

  “It’s okay, Dad.”

  “You slept well?”

  Elaine smiled weakly. “As best as I could. Nightmares don’t go away that easily.”

  “It’ll be better, I promise.”

  There was a harsh knock on the door.

  “Go away, I’m busy!”

  The knocking became a battering ram. “Raymond Harris, you open this door right this minute, or I’ll tear down these walls if I have to.”

  “Sarah?”

  “Open the door,” Sarah shrieked, kicking the door.

  Ray stood, leaving his tin cup on the dining table. I need more booze.

  “Finally! Where’s—” Sarah pushed him aside and barged into the room. “Oh, my…” She hugged Elaine and brushed her hair aside. “Girl, you all right?”

  “Sarah!” Elaine’s voice cracked.

  “The odds…” Sarah shook her head. “We never thought we would see another face, let alone the family. When they told me Ray’s daughter came out of that ship, my heart stopped.”

  “So glad to see you’re still hanging around with him.”

  “Yeah, all in all, he’s a good captain, albeit he’s made of oak. Now that you’re here, it’ll all be better.”

  “I never thought I would survive or see you lot again.”

  “Hush now, baby girl, it’s over. You’re among family now.” Sarah smiled. “How long has it been? You were but a teenager when I last saw you.”

  “Quite a few years. You were about to depart for the Mars route.”

  “Years.” Sarah nodded. She turned to Ray. “Don’t just stand there. Get another blanket. She’s shivering.”

  “Huh?”

  “Ray!”

  “All right.” Ray shook out of his trance and went into the bedroom to get what he thought was a wool blanket. One of the lieutenant commanders was skilled with weaving, and Ray didn’t question much where she got the raw materials. “Here,” he brought it back.

  “Good, now pour something hot to drink. Other than that jet fuel you have.”

  “Sure.” He took the metal kettle he had made from spare parts and put it on the fireplace. “I have some herbal tea made from those green leaves.”

  “Kasma leaves?”

  “Yes. The old man’s trying to name them as humbus, whatever that is.”

  “It’ll do.” Sarah caressed Elaine’s wet hair. “It tastes like plastic, but it’ll warm you up, girl. Hurry it up, Ray!”

  “It’s boiling, woman! Hold your horses.” Ray smashed the tin cup he held, which earned Elaine's bugged eyes and a scalding stare from Sarah. She arrived two minutes ago, and I’m already confused. “I’m sorry.”

  “Is this your place, Dad?” Elaine asked, obviously trying to change the conversation and relieve Ray from Sarah’s eyes.

  “Yes.” He took the kettle off the fire and poured the tea into the cup he had smashed against the wall a minute earlier. Good thing I made these from metal. “We ended up here about a year ago after the battle of Earth and settled after it proved impossible to leave the planet.”

  “The ship was damaged beyond repair.” Sarah reached for the cup and gave it to Elaine. “Ga’an and a technician team are working on the systems repairs, but I’m not keeping my hopes high. Besides,” Sarah smiled, “this place is not that bad. Way better than where I grew up.”

  “Who is Ga’an? And how did you end up with the military bunch?”

  “Oh, well. Long story, dear.”

  “Weird name.” Elaine turned and looked through the dirty window. “You seeded those cabbages too closely.”

  “We’ll fix it next season.”

  “You built this cottage?”

  There was silence in the room. Ray looked at Sarah, and she looked back, not knowing what to say. They spoke at the same time.

  “Well, Ray—”

  “I was—”

  “Then Brother Cavil and—”

  “I found seeds—”

  Elaine closed her eyes. “Stop.”

  Sarah and Ray stopped, blinking. Sarah blushed, and Ray focused on the kitchen bar he and Sarah made together. Those nails needed to be changed, and the wood could surely use some varnish. Perhaps if he focused on the woo
dwork, the conversation would eventually shift.

  “So,” Elaine started. “You were together, and it didn’t work out.”

  Sarah laughed nervously, and Ray babbled something inaudible.

  “It happens,” Elaine said, shrugging.

  “I didn’t know how you would react,” Ray said apologetically.

  “I’ve known Sarah since she first joined your crew. She’s always been a part of the family. Like the rest of them.”

  “Well, we—” It was Sarah’s turn to babble.

  “You two still act like little kids.”

  “More than we care to admit,” Sarah said, looking at Ray with a faint smile. “You should have told me Elaine was among the refugees.”

  “Um, yeah.” The response of the year, Ray. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry and run at Sarah, hugging her, but each day, something pitch-black pressed on his thoughts, covering everything else with despair. He saw Sarah’s face drop when he didn’t respond to her gesture and felt his heart sink deeper into the mud of gloomy thoughts.

  Elaine saved her father one more time, looking at Ray meaningfully. “So, how do your days go?” she asked Sarah, still not taking her eyes off Ray.

  Sarah shrugged. “I’m with the local police. Since the crowd here’s all military, not much happens. Occasional brawls over a lover or petty theft. They usually pull their acts together when the military police arrive. Out of habit, probably.”

  “It’s nice to have a calm place.”

  “I also have a cat. Darty.”

  “A cat?”

  “Yeah,” Sarah shrugged. “We found the poor thing on Tarra. She’s a part of the team now.”

  Elaine nodded slowly. “A cat.”

  “The first few months were a bit unnerving, but people got used to the idea of settling down eventually.” Sarah threw a look at Ray. “Most of them anyway.”

  Ray sighed, reaching for the booze bottle. He was running out, and he needed more. Much more.

  “And you?” Elaine asked Ray.

  “Mm?”