Cassiel Winters 1: Sky's End (4 page)

“You’re correct that we are the best of the best,” says Adm. O’Reilly, beaming. “SOSA’s duties include universe-wide security intelligence. Sometimes that requires we participate in covert operations,” he adds like I’m 12, again.

I remain silent. I don’t know where this is headed, and I’m uneasy. This situation’s unreal. That I would be the center of attention at top ESE Command meeting . . . the gravity of this sinks in.

Adm. O’Reilly leans back in his chair. He pushes his com-tab a bit and then places both hands flat on the table. “We’ve intercepted, decoded, and compiled enough intergalactic messages to say with certainty that the Thell’eons have set their sights on our galaxy, as well as various other galaxies in our region.”

I skip a breath, and remember to blink, but my eyelids remain closed for a second longer than normal, as if we could physically shut out this truth. Until now, the Thell’eons seem liked a far away threat. Hearing straight from Command that we are facing an imminent threat is chilling. I glance at King, who’s staring at the table. Evidently, he knows all of this. Well, he’s a member of SOSA, too, or so Daz hinted, but I’m not supposed to know.

“We also have good reason to believe there are undercover Thell’eon spies on Earth,” adds Adm. O’Reilly.

Outrage, the kind that makes you want to wage wars, surges through my veins. This news is a surprise to King and a few of the other officers, too, who look up at the Admiral surprised.

Spies? The idea of Earth being in clear and present danger makes all of my problems seem really unimportant. It’s all-encompassing.

And then I check myself. Are we being hasty here? Astro-archeological evidence shows several alien species completely annihilated each other, and even their home planets. We can’t be sure why, but I can’t help falling back on one thing I know to be true: fear’s the ultimate harbinger of war.

“Sirs,” I say, checking with Colonel Sato to find out if it’s okay for me to continue. He nods. “How do we know what they really want?”

The officers at the table look at Adm. O’Reilly like this might be a valid question.

King stares at me, like he’s sizing up a stranger.

What?
I think irritably.

“Of course we know what they want!” says the Admiral impatiently. “They want rights to the hydrogen in our region. They want all of our galaxy’s abundance of rich elements. They want land that is nourished by a sun. In other words, they want Earth and they’ll stop at nothing to take it!”

He spat the last line out like a cherry pit. His face is bright red.

The Admiral struggles to collect himself. This is too surreal. I suppress the urge to giggle, a strange reaction considering I’m totally terrified right now. But, I guess that’s the vibe I’m giving off, because Commandant Abernathy says, “Don’t be afraid, Cassiel.” He has a directness that I imagine wins him many votes. I check myself.

“You’re right in that we can’t be certain that they plan to destroy us. In fact, that’s exactly what we need to learn. We need to know what their plans for Earth are.”

He pauses, glancing at the Admiral. “And we need your help to learn that,” he adds, settling back on my face.

I know my eyes are wide open. I can’t help but look at King to share my disbelief. Only, he’s struggling to compose himself. He moves in his seat, like he’s about to say something but decides against it, staring ahead at nothing. Prof Xeno speaks for the first time. Waves of calm soothe me, and I hope to channel more. He rotates his chair in order to face me. He reaches out a long arm from his shoulderless torso, all the way across the empty chair between us, and places his long, wrinkly fingers on top of mine. I can’t remember the last time I felt the warmth and safety of a human, er, life form’s touch. A hug from Daz goodbye, months ago?

“SOSA has divined a mission for you. A very dangerous mission, Cassiel,” he adds softly.
Okay, not so comforting after all
. “You don’t have to do it. You can leave here right now and continue with your studies, if you wish.” His papery eyelids close slowly.

This is a surprise. Continue with my studies? The Commanders are not happy with what Professor Xeno has just offered.

King watches me, hopeful.

“But, I thought that, that I . . .failed.” Better just to admit it.

“You did,” interjects Colonel Sato loudly.

He’s really not happy with my attire. Or with me. Resentment swells in me.

Prof. Xeno’s about to say something but the Colonel Sato adds quickly, “Now you have a chance,
this chance
, to redeem yourself.”

Adm. O’Reilly nods at Sato approvingly.

Gee, he really thinks little of me
. I can see right through his ploy, of course, but instead of outrage, my main emotion is relief.
I’m getting a third chance
! And I want to help.

Who knows? Maybe they need me to do some translations or decoding, or some Thell’eon socio-political theorizing with Prof Xeno. And in return I would get to stay here at the Academy when it’s over. Continue investigating Daz’s accident. Studying with Prof. Xeno. Getting to know King.

“Would I get to stay at the Academy?” Instantly, I think better of that. “Would I get to finish my studies no matter what?”

I’m surprised and a smidgeon hurt to see King roll his eyes, frustrated.

“I think that’s reasonable,” says Adm. O’Reilly, after a short pause. “Colonel Sato?”

Sato nods quickly.

Well
, I think impatiently,
spill!
The sooner they tell me what it is they want me to do, the sooner I can get on with my life.

Chapter 5

After a pause, Adm. O’Reilly starts. “We have very good information that a dangerous weapon is soon to be, if it isn’t already, in Thell’eon hands.”

Yikes, that doesn’t sound good.

“Currently,” he continues, “there’s a Thell’eon vessel near a planet where an ESE operative rescued an ‘asset’ who promised to sell us said weapon. A skirmish ensued, the ‘asset’ disappeared, as did the weapon, and we later misplaced the operative.”

I think
misplaced
is a weird term to describe what happened to the operative but I don’t let on.

“Our long-range scanners picked up the Thell’eon vessel 24 hours ago. Why the vessel would return to the planet where this incident occurred four months ago is unclear. But it gives us good reason to believe the weapon, and/or possibly the asset, is somewhere on the planet, which is Taxata.”

Four months ago? That’s when Daz stopped returning my Missives. What are the chances that he’s mixed up in this? Could he be the ‘misplaced’ operative?

“Now, we’ve got very few options here, you understand,” says Adm. O’Reilly, slowly.

I try to hear what he’s saying but my heart’s whirring on a buzz of possibility that this missing operative could be Daz.

“We can’t engage the Thell’eon directly. Their ship’s more powerful than ours. We managed to get some operatives down to the planet to spy on them, 18 hours ago, but they were killed.”

Killed?

He pauses, checking with the Commandant, who nods without taking his eyes off of me.

Holy crap
. I try to contain my fear for Daz, and concentrate.

After a slight check of the head, or was that a shake?, Adm. O’Reilly continues. “So now we plan to engage the Thell’eon vessel. Send in one of our own to gather anything about the location of this weapon . . . and anything about Thell’eon military plans.”

This is a crazy idea. The Thell’eons will see right through a human infiltrating their ship.

“We think we you’re best suited to the task,” adds Adm. O’Reilly.

I have to replay his words in my mind twice before they sink in.

OKAY. This is so not funny.

“You want me to go . . . go on their ship?” A sort of half-laugh comes out. I can’t help it. I mean, what he’s said is so absurd.

Me
?
Be a SOSA agent?

Besides, every single officer at the table is staring at me with anything but confidence. King’s shaking his head, which kind of pisses me off. I mean, I agree it’s ridiculous, but he could show more faith in me.

Okay. Don’t panic. Try to make sense of this
.

“But, why me, sirs? I mean, you must have incredibly skilled operatives perfect for a mission like this. Lt. Lazarus, for instance.”

Everyone appears embarrassed, except the Commandant. “Cassiel,” (I feel like he wants to say “honey”) “if we sent a male officer, the Thell’eons would kill him immediately.”

One magnetosphere. Two magnetosphere
. Terror sets in. They are sending me because I am a woman?

No. I don’t understand. King’s eyes are light years away, and his mouth’s warring against an ugly sneer that wins out.

He speaks suddenly with surprising restraint.

“I want the record to show that I am diametrically opposed to this mission. I will participate in the operation because it is my duty, but I think we are sending Cadet Winters on a suicide mission.”

Suicide mission? Is the room spinning?
Is it that bad?
I glance around at the serious expressions.
Yup. It is that bad.

“Yes, Lt. King, we are aware of your opinion,” says the Commandant sharply.

“So you’re just going to transport me onto their ship?” I blurt out, not at all surprised by the shake in my voice. I think I have spotted a pretty big hole in their plan, despite my spinning head. I feel like crying.

Adm. O’Reilly stares at me like I’m stupid. “Cadet Winters, we would not send you in if we thought you would not be successful. We have reliable intel that indicates Thell’eons are breeders.”

Did the artificial gravity just stop? My mind’s floating somewhere above me trying to swim its way through thin air toward the door. Seriously. I unclench my fists, absently wondering if feeling will come back.

‘Breeders’ is the term humans give to species whose females are not physiologically equipped to experience pleasure during sex.
Yup
, there are a few unlucky species in which this horrid evolutionary botch occurs.

So, if I get ESE’s thinking, the Thell’eons will be pleased to have a female, a human female, in their clutches!

Adm. O’Reilly continues, oblivious to the fact I’m near hyperventilating. “We intend to send an ‘exploratory team’ in a charger under the pretense that we’re searching for the misplaced operative, that is, if they bother to ask any questions before firing. Lt. King will pilot the velo. Lt. Lazarus will lead the team.” He pauses. “We will ‘cause’ your translocator blocker to malfunction.”

Translococator blocker? Wha—

“This will enable the Thell’eon’s auto-scanner to pick up your presence right away,” he continues, oblivious to my confusion, “and with any luck, it will translocate you aboard before attacking. Either way, Lt. King, our best pilot, will need to get the charger out of there.”

Suddenly, I fear for King, too. This is crazy, but I ask the first question, blazing hot.

“What’s an ‘auto-scanner’?”

The Commandant and Adm. O’Reilly both stare at me like I’m incredibly naïve. I’m surprised when Colonel Sato pipes up. “This is classifed knowledge: human women are actively sought by breeders. We implant a chip blocker in all women who join ESE during the physical exam to prevent sudden translocation by breeders.”

This is very disturbing news. In fact, if I’d known this, I might not have applied to the Academy. I’m equally outraged that other female cadets are unaware of this.

Colonel Sato adds, “Before our female cadets enter third year, we inform them of this unusual risk. It’s up to them whether they continue.”

Suddenly it’s so much clearer to me why there are so few women in ESE.

This is not what I signed up for. I just want to study exo-anthro. And now Command thinks we can trick the Thell’eons into abducting me so I can spy on them. I can barely process this shifting of my world. The terrified part of my brain considers alternatives: why not one of the other women, an officer, maybe? I think of Lt. Preston.
Yes, she would be perfect
! I ask the question, about sending another, more experienced, female officer, out loud, without shame.

I’m rattled by King’s harsh laugh. “They chose you for a reason. Am I right, Admiral? Commandant?”

Huh?

How could such an important mission hinge on me? Nausea mounts. I can’t let this charade go on any longer. Even if the Thell’eons on that vessel believe that they just got lucky and . . .
translocated
. . . themselves a horny ESE cadet, I wouldn’t know how to play that out anyway. I
am
innocent.

“Look,” I say, but Colonel Sato grunts. “Sirs,” I start again, gruffly, staring Sato down. “I don’t have the right kind of . . . I, ah, just don’t think I have the right kind of . . . experience for this kind of thing.” I spurt that last bit out quickly hoping they will catch my drift.

M-o-r-t-i-f-i-e-d.

I stare at the table pretending I’m anywhere else.
Hey, you shouldn’t feel bad
.
There’s no call for dignity in desperate times.
An interminable silence passes. My shoulders are straining to remain so high and tense. Slowly, they descend.

The Admiral finally speaks, softly. “Cadet Winters, our top strategists believe that the less skills our operative has in this case, the better.”

Huh?
I chance a glance in his eyes. They’re wide open, and unreadable. The Commandant nods at me this time, without leering.

I jump in my seat as King slams his hands on the table and pushes back in his chair. But he doesn’t stand up.

Maybe I can do this. Every fiber of my being is screaming
‘It’s not too late, back out!’
, but I’m not sure I can. I wouldn’t know how. Everyone seems to be . . . counting on me.

“What’s this weapon?” I blurt out.

The Commanders look to Professor Xeno, who has not turned his chair away from me the whole time.

He begins to speak. “Even I know little of the asset’s species or the weapon he claimed to have.” Anormata’s physiology creates a very delicate echo after each word; his language is so unusual he could not translate his real name, which is why he chose Xeno.

“However, he claimed to have a weapon called a ‘sift.’” Professor Xeno pauses, as he often does in class, to let everyone absorb an important piece of information. “This asset would not reveal much detail about this sift until we purchased it, except to say that it enabled the user to control the universe. Not only that, but he said it holds the key to what the universe is, and why we are here.”

“And we believe him?” I ask incredulously. I mean,
come on
. Control the universe? Prof. Xeno’s mouth shapes into sharp thin-lined ‘U’. He’s smiling! A first, for me.

“In my many years, I have encountered this ‘sift’ or something like it in the ancient texts of a few very old species. This is enough evidence, in my mind, to pursue these leads. Of course, there’s a chance that what we’re setting out on is a ‘wild goose pursuit.’”

“Wild goose-chase,” I add, smiling. Human’s use of idioms is intriguing to Professor Xeno and he often tries to use them in conversation.

“If, according to other civilizations, it does exist, we must obtain it before the Thell’eon, before any one, does,” he adds.

This is a sobering deduction. I believe Professor Xeno without question. He holds the human species in high regard, among all of the species; the reason he’s contributing to ESE, plus, we had a planet, with a sun, and we welcomed him.

The Commandant stands up abruptly. “Winters, you will be briefed and receive as much instruction possible in the time we have. Adm. O’Reilly is in charge of this mission. Prof. Xeno and Lt. Lazarus, who is on his way, will prepare you as best as possible before you depart with the ‘team’ in a charger tomorrow at zero nine hundred hours.”

I gasp. Less than 14 hours.

“You’re in good hands. The best hands,” he says, his eyes sweeping the officers at the table. “I know you won’t let us down. Good luck, cadet,” he adds. And with that, he walks past me. The other two officers, who are not on the prep team, file in behind him.

But there’s something I need to know before I go through with this. He needs me now. Surely, I can make a demand.

“Commandant!” I practically shout. Without turning to face him, I ask, “Is the ‘misplaced’ operative my brother?” I stare straight into Adm. O’Reilly’s eyes when I ask this and he seems, oddly, to be expecting it.

“Yes,” says Commandant Abernathy finally.

I experience a lightness of being I haven’t felt, well, since before I joined the Academy.

It doesn’t occur to me until days later, which will feel like an entire lifetime, that I didn’t fail the first-year combat test. I’d been set up from the start. Being ignorant of that fact at the time didn’t much matter, though, because the truth is, they could have used Daz to get me to do almost anything.