DEF CON 31 Short Story Writing Contest https://media.defcon.org/ ================= ----------------- = Ave Maria = = Anna Sinfonia = ----------------- ================= //// Typically, Quantum Decoherence is viewed as a sort of 'quantum forgetfulness,' as the system 'forgets' its original state due to interactions with its environment, causing it to behave more like a classical system than a quantum one. However, scientists have discovered how to manipulate this process, selectively allowing or preventing decoherence to maintain control over quantum systems. //// ========== = Act I: = ========== As long as he could remember, there was the cold white glow reflected in his father’s eyes. The winds howled and the windows rattled in their casings as another storm blew by. It was dangerous to go outside, small metal particulates got caught in the wind and would tear at your skin. This weather is why the planet was ultimately abandoned, and now, he sat in his father’s office, his back to the screen as he stared at the man who had brought them here when he was five. He was eighteen now, and the second youngest in their Department, which had reverted back to its most primitive form, a tribe of former co-workers, now trying to survive after the company had left them here almost nine months ago during the Re-Org. The eyes behind those glasses that reflected the computer screen snapped to his son. “I’ve been waiting, of course, for this day.” “It’s Tuesday.” “It is your birthday, as we both know.” His father did not care for niceties, niceties died with his mother. “Yes, father.” “You know my role here as the head of this department, and there is a reason for this, the DoD is named for me.” His official title, still kept long after The Company had left the Department of Data, the leader, his father: Datum. He nodded and his father brought his hand to his mouth, wiping the sweat from his upper lip, the five o’clock stubble and sweat catching the light from the computer screens. He could hear the clicking and whirring as the hard drives spun. Long arrays of numbers printed out on the screen, black text cluttering up the screen like spiders. “You remember what I have taught you, about decrypting decoherence to trigger a quantum collapse? The company will come for this soon, they are reaching the end of my knowledge bank, and I have kept it hidden from them this long, but not much longer. They know they don’t have the ability. That I never assimilated it into the systems during my off boarding.” His father was a pioneer in this space, he was a Data Scientist who could find the statistical outcome of every and any possible situation. Everyone in this department could work this magic with numbers, decoding long strings of probabilities after they snapped the bubble of quantum forgetfulness that was decoherence. Once you decrypted matter, it gave away its next moves freely, like an opponent in a chess match, and his father always won. They used this naively to predict weather for mining, and then to control it. When the higher ups had Re-Organized the company to assimilate the Department of Data into the Central Repository and left when they had drained this planet dry, leaving those they laid off on the surface, they left this knowledge too on the surface. The knowledge to predict the future, and to manipulate it. “When?” “I will kill myself to buy the department time, but you must move to the south, where the last of the mines are.” Nicholas absorbed his father's words, each syllable a cold, hard fact settling in the pit of his stomach. He understood their weight - the gravitas of the Department of Data was no stranger to him. His father, Datum, was not a man of flippant proclamations. Each word he uttered was calculated, a product of the immutable logic that dominated his life, and now dictated his death. 'Datum', as his title designated him, had long ago shed the frivolities of humanity to become the master manipulator of probabilities. His world was the quantum realm, where he navigated the tempestuous sea of potential realities, decrypting decoherence to gaze into the future. His machinations with numbers were no less than magic, unveiling the dance of fate and chance with every string of probabilities he deciphered. Yet, his gift was a poisoned chalice; in knowing the future, he was shackled to its inevitable rhythm, a tragic Cassandra in the cosmic drama. News of his death closed up Nicholas’ throat. He dug his fingers into his pants to try to stop himself from crying, from being anything less than his father. “I have seen my death and I have seen yours.” His father continued, “You know I have.” “Yes.” He could only agree dumbly. He felt so helpless before him. “You know there are many worlds.” “Then why can’t you pick one where you live?” His father spat his name “Nicholas, you must create one for your sister to live. I have seen all futures, and this is the one I have chosen.” You cannot fight the future. The future stung his eyes as his whole body tensed, trying to fight or flee, but instead he sat here, burying every feeling inside of him, swallowing it whole. Nicholas felt the silent specter of his father's premeditated end drawing closer. Yet he could do nothing to change the course of events, despite the multiple worlds quantum theory teased. The bitter irony of their situation was not lost on him. “Promise me.” His father’s voice was even again. “I promise.” “What are you promising?” “For Maria.” --------------- "We refuse." Volodi, the most imposing voice among the Department, echoed from within their improvised council hall. The portly woman with fried blonde hair pulled into a haphazard bun stared up at the lights swinging overhead. Every time a particularly strong gust of wind shook the building, they would shiver, casting jittering phantoms of shadows around them. "To go south is to mean death! If the starlight does not kill us, then the rain will!" Another voice shouted. "And why, pray tell, are you the bearer of this news and not the Datum?" Volodi continued. "The Datum will die, and he has passed his responsibilities to me!" Nicholas shouted, and then bit back his emotions. They were scientists; he must lead them as a scientist, with reason. "The company comes for him, for us, and the knowledge we possess. We must leave; it has been seen." The room went still. Even the lights dared not to move, the winds respecting the scientists that used to manipulate it and destroyed the very planet that they inhabited. "The probability has been found then." Another man, his father's second in command, Dominick, blonde and wiry thin, in his late forties, ran his fingers back through his hair. "I knew he had been playing a dangerous game, running the decoherence on himself." "It's against our laws." Another man hissed. "Our ethics that we wrote!" There was a murmur amongst the crowd. "And he saved your life by breaking it. The company will spare none of us if they know. Why should we spare ourselves from knowing our own probabilities!" "We leave in the morning." Nicholas said, braver than he felt. The wind howled in rage. "What of Maria?" Volodi asked. Maria was the youngest of all of them, his sister, picturesque in her youth, with long brown hair that cascaded down around her waist. She was a fanciful thing with blue eyes that were hard to look at for too long. Blue eyes that reminded him of their mother. Four years younger and sheltered. She cared too much for that which they could not possess. Spoiled in her youth by holograms of nature that she could never see. She was not a thing for this harsh environment, she was a goddess meant for Eden, and the department had taken it from her. As the rampant weather pulsated above them, churning clouds phased in and out of existence. The tiny particles fought against their earthly masters' control, a testament to their meddling with the divine. The many-futured god they had tried to tame would soon claim another victim: their father. Nicholas knew this as a chilling inevitability, each tick of the clock a harbinger of the impending loss. Yet he did not blame the gods. After all, his father was one of them now. He blamed those that tried to tame him: The Company. He tore away from the crowd now into the back rooms of the office building that they now lived in, the motion-sensing lights flickering on overhead as he passed, hurting his eyes at the sudden change. How would Maria take it? She looked at him from her bed, wearing a long cotton white nightdress. Her eyes reflected the single light bulb swinging from a wire over her bed. She deserved a better life, and when he told her that they would depart for the south, she looked out the window, half boarded up, only a sliver of the storm was visible, deep gouges from the metallic wind on what was left. She spoke: "I know." He felt that her suffering was somehow his fault. His father's promise echoing in his head. --------------- As destiny dictated, the day of his father's death dawned fair. It was the final grace for a man sacrificing himself on the very planet he'd ravaged. The Department bore their sparse burdens - probabilistic computers, sustenance, nothing more. Dominick, his father's confidant, appeared last, his gaze frantic. "Where is Maria?" Dominick, his father's most trusted, doted on Maria, almost to an unnerving degree, and Maria blossomed under his fawning like a lily. Dominick possessed a gentleness that Nicholas did not inherit. If she was not with him, she was nowhere at all. Nicholas shook his head at the cruel thoughts that reached up like tendrils of worry. Was she missing? Did Datum take her? She had to be here. She was probably just taking too long getting ready. "We can't dawdle," Volodi insisted, urgency lacing her words. "Datum afforded us time to depart, not to linger." "We don't leave without Maria!" Dominick snapped. Nicholas pushed past the other man and back into the ramshackle building, weathered concrete and broken glass windows boarded up time and time again. His sister was always causing problems, always causing him to second guess himself and his father. He reached her room breathless, only to see a small white figure through the small slat of the window, a virginal goddess following another, darker figure out onto the brown earthen plains that once were forests. Stumps like gravestones cast long shadows over the field. Nicholas knew where his father was going to die, upon the hill of his mother's corpse. The deity of the future mourned for a creature with none. He would die with the past. His sister tripped over a stump and his hand hit the window trying to help her. She suffered so much, paid for so many sins that weren't her own. His fingers pressed against cold glass, and then he fled. Adrenaline fueling his pursuit, Nicholas sprinted, his feet pounding on dusty, dead grass through the spectral remnants of a forest that had surrendered to a furious fire under the relentless orange sky. Their arrogant tampering with nature had metamorphosed this world into a living inferno and his father, the devil himself, was on the other end of it. Upon a desolate hill, surrounded by amputated trees, he found Maria. Her gaze was affixed on a grisly sight: their father, prostrate on their mother's unmarked grave, his lifeblood seeping away into the thirsty earth, claimed by a shard of glass. Stricken, Maria pressed her forehead against his chest, offering no tears, just a silence that reverberated with the echo of a divine mortality. Maria turned to her brother, her eyes wide and unfocused, and leaned her forehead against his chest. She did not cry, as the children of the Datum did not cry. Instead, they stood in silence, unable to move or think, witness to the corpse of a God. A man who, instead of controlling the future, took his own. Something moved off in the distance and Nicholas led Maria back some away from the edge. The two of them halfway between a tree and its neighbor waited. Two sets of footsteps crunched over dead grass, a long suffering sigh. "He's dead, director." "Find the department. They're here. The future is ours. Comb the planet if you must. It will not be controlled by a group of low performers." "And the body?" "Serve it as the irrefutable evidence of the Datum's assimilation into the Central Repository." Maria choked on her own sobs, tensing up. He held Maria to him, not in comfort, but in fear that they would take her next. Outside always smelled like death, the ash of trees burning somewhere as the wrath of a planet scorned attempted to eradicate all signs of life from its surface. But today, it smelled like metal, as he bit his own tongue in fury. "We have to leave," Maria murmured, her whisper barely overcoming the wind. "The company can never have this knowledge." --------------- Volodi had told him, and Dominick the night after they had left that she believed the Datum knew of the Last Mine, their project that had abruptly halted during the Re-Org when the planet was abandoned. The three of them agreed to take the Department there to see if they could find shelter. “Take caution,” she said quietly into her mug that night, unwilling to look at Nicholas “the Miners never cared for others.” A stark ribbon of asphalt cleaved the monotonous landscape, a single beacon of color beneath the apocalyptic sky. The world around him was a bleak tableau of rusted browns, a perpetual purgatory of lifelessness. Absent of life, decay was a concept relegated to history, the world trapped in an eternal winter. Fires had not only consumed life but also the nourishing rains. The storms that did venture were barren, wielding only abrasive winds that whirled up dust devils, galaxies of minuscule debris spiraling up, blooming, then dissolving into oblivion. As the day succumbed to the encroaching dusk, bathing the heavens in hues of merlot, an anomaly appeared in the horizon: an expanse of vibrant green. An undulating swell of verdant hills, whispering and retreating like living things. “It’s the ocean.” Dominick commented, not to him, but to Maria next to him. “The books say the ocean is blue.” Maria said simply, her eyes meeting Nicholas’ “It was, once.” The truck stopped abruptly and Nicholas looked away from the ocean to see three of the Department running towards them, they were in the far back, the last to leave, the last to arrive. Dominick tensed up at the fear in Volodi’s eyes, even through the window and he opened the door, shouting for the driver to turn the vehicle off. He jumped out and Nicholas followed, leaving Maria in the truck, her hands on her lap. “What is this?” Dominick shouted and Volodi didn’t speak, instead she pointed behind her, a group of men wearing black and holding guns walked alongside the road, blending into one another until they seemed like a Hydra. Nicholas had never seen a gun, there was no need, but each man in this welcome group had at least three visible, a submachine gun, with spots of orange rust, on their chest, their hands on the grip, their fingers carefully balanced just above the trigger. They were tan and dirty, their hair cropped short in all the same fashion. “Well, look who we have here, Miss Volodi and her merry gang.” The front man spat on the ground and Nicholas curled his lip in disgust Volodi’s eyes were hard, and she looked away from everyone out onto the green roiling ocean. “Derrick.” “I thought you were promoted, but I guess you’ve come back to die with your old friends, eh?” “And some new ones.” A man from behind him piped up and pointed his gun at Nicholas. “The Company is back.” Nicholas said evenly. “We seek sanctuary.” “Bull.” Derrick said, his voice sounded as rough as the winds. “I’ve seen them.” Volodi offered “They mean to enforce the clause.” No one spoke for a beat. “And you come to us?” “Is there anyone better? There’s a reason you were left here.” “Aye, not the same reason they left your group though, and what can your men do? Can you even spend an hour under this sun, or do you wither and die like grass?” “You know our skill.” Dominick said, a pleading tone. Nicholas hated Dominick for how emotional he was. “If it’s a trade you want, we all are able.” Nicholas spoke, “What will it take-” “Mouthy thing, eh Volodi? Everyone works here, even that girl you’re hiding from us.” He pointed his gun at the car that Maria sat in. Nicholas grabbed the barrel, incensed. “Fine, we don’t have time to waste talking, bring us within your walls, show us your terms.” Derrick looked him over again with fresh eyes and then spat on the ground, pointing his thumb back over his shoulder. “Alright then, walk your walk, let’s talk your talk, scientists.” Despite being guests, they were marched in like prisoners, past rusted metal walls with Maria between himself and Dominick, Volodi led them, Derrick and herself in confidence with whispers and backwards glances. The abandoned mining machinery had been repurposed into a makeshift village, a shantytown. Machines were gutted and converted into dwellings, hollowed trucks adorned with crude curtains, slate rocks arranged to form tables around which mothers gathered. The entrance to the mine loomed ominously as they approached, the number of miners dwelling inside and around the scar in the earth estimated in hundreds. Derrick directed the team of scientists, a group of twenty, to a spot bathed in the slanting sunlight that poured into the mine. The cavernous expanse was tinged with the smell of salt, fish, ash, and dust. Men shuffled past, copper wires suspending their meager catch, grumbling about their dwindling luck and the worsening weather conditions. A man, bulkier than Derrick, sat down across from Nicholas. “These are the ones?” “Aye.” Derrick said. “Make your case, Volodi.” Volodi looked over at Nicholas and Derrick beside her and Nicholas was the first to speak up. “You fish?” “Keen observation, what’s next? We breathe?” “We can predict when the fish will come.” Nicholas said. “And the storms.” “Bull.” The bigger man said. “No,” Derrick held up his hand. “That was what you were always saying Volodi? That you always knew when to stay out of the mines?” “No one can see under the surface, if the fish bite, they bite, you can’t predict it, it’s not weather.” The bigger man waved them off like flies. “Give us a day,” Dominick reiterated “Give us a place to stay, and tomorrow you will know when to fish, not if there is fish.” Nicholas looked at his bag between his legs that contained his father’s probabilistic computer. They had only experimented on weather, something that was relatively static in nature. The formation of clouds, the density of rain. His father had experimented on himself, could Nicholas experiment on the futures of fish? Maria sat next to him later that night on a cot, her knees tucked under his chin, the whitish blue glow reflected in her eyes as he began to decrypt the decoherence around one of the fish that the men had brought, watching the probabilities of it’s many worlds splash across the screen. She pointed to a coordinate set. “In every world, they migrate away from the pollutants.” He rolled his eyes “We are looking for the most likely outcome to find out where they always will go, not what they will go away from.” “Remove the pollutant.” Maria said simply. “Maria, this isn’t play time, you don’t understand this system.” She shrugged, getting up from her cot, taking the small probabilistic computer with her. Frustrated with his sister, he took his report of where the fish would always migrate, the future of the school that this one had belonged to along with the weather to the leader of the tribe. Derrick looked upon it skeptically. “You better hope for a miracle in the morning.” “I don’t believe in miracles.” And yet when he stood next to Maria the next morning and the oceans were a clear blue, white capped waves broke upon the shore. She had altered the future, fish swam in large black schools underneath blue waters. Once you crack the decoherence, you collapse the possibilities into only one reality, leaving the matter no choice but to take the most probabilistic path, the one you’ve created. “Father knew, of course.” She said as the men on the fishing boat waved, their catches dancing in their hands like wind-kissed banners. “The Company did too, it’s how they controlled the weather, it’s how the weather went mad in the end.” “If they know, why are they still trying to kill us?” “They knew, but they don’t know.” She said, her bare feet padding down to the ocean. “Not the way you and I know.” “They know where we are then.” He followed Maria down to the water’s edge, the cold ocean had grey foam from the ash that mingled on the surface.“ “They do.” She squatted down and waited for the water to greet her hand like a dog to its mistress. “You knew?” “You can’t fight the future.” “I disagree.” Maria gave him a secretive smile. “You can only change it.” --------------- After the first morning’s catch they were always allowed to dine with Derrick. It was in the midst of such a meal, three days later, that a figure, gaunt and towering as the local flora, dashed towards them with a scribbled parchment. He glanced at the coordinates that were hastily written down on the paper and looked over at Nicholas and Dominick. “It is as you said, The Company comes. Alex has seen them.” “Only fifty at the most, but armed.” Alex nodded like a bobblehead as he spoke. “Let’s roll out the welcome wagon then, eh? Come along boys, I’ll show you how we greet our former employer.” Derrick stood up from the table, grabbing his tin can cup full of algae wine (something Nicholas tried only once and regretted the next day) before heading back outside in the late afternoon sun. The afternoon star painted a halo of gold upon the oxidized, metallic edifice near the entrance barrier. The door, unsteady on its hinges, revealed the mechanical hum of active drives within. A lone figure, clad in utilitarian trousers and a bandana, his vision enhanced by spectacles, lounged atop a repurposed oil drum. Before him, a motley assortment of screens, a collage of various dimensions, their disjointed image a testament to their origin, myriad wires crisscrossing the setup. A curious flag adorned one screen, it’s cheerful yet morbid emblem of a smiling face atop crossbones attached to a nearby pane. “This is Pete.” Pete gave them a withering glare. “Pete is our machinist who decided machines had a better home with us.” “Aye.” “Pete made sure they stayed in our Department after the Re-Org.” “Machines just need a little convincing.” He gestured to the screens. “And a little help from my friends.” He banged on the nearest monitor and it blurred before coming back into focus. He handed the scrap of paper to Pete. “Here’s the location of some others that need convincing.” “I am a bit of a micro-manager.” He grinned, his teeth were yellowing and his eyes cut to the screen. “Volodi will be happy to get her hands back into it.” Dominick’s eyes widened. “So, this is what she did?” “Aye, she was a machinist before the promotions. Warlike as ever.” Derrick grinned. Pete, slender yet strong like a desert plant, brushed the accumulated dirt from his attire and stretched. “She’s out giving new orders to the dogs. Wait ‘til the company sees what we did with them.” The dogs in question were machines, double jointed spidery metallic things with no head, only a body, and strapped atop it was a floodlight, and atop that, a gun that pivoted and whirred as they ran around like chickens at feeding time. Volodi was twisting a screwdriver, sealing up the panel of one in a long line of them. “Seeing eye dogs,” She explained patting one. “For the mines, but they can do a lot more if you know how to train ‘em” “It’s a hack, but it’ll do.” Derrick scoffed. “What we do is hacking.” Pete replied, waving as the dogs lined up, gears whirring and spinning as their guns, and attention turned towards the group. Nicholas backed away instinctually. “You’ll be thanking us later.” Father had told him that Companies never used to be empires, but as Nicholas watched Pete and Volodi herd the dogs out the corrugated metal walls as the star dipped below the sea, he could not fathom it. He was born to The Company, part of the Department that his father ran, and his father ran before that. If they had not been laid off during the Re-Org, then Nicholas would have taken his place. Now he, and the rest of the Departments left on this planet would face death for their past employment. He wanted to spare them, spare Volodi, Pete, and Maria the slaughter. He sat on top of the roof of one of the diggers, the yellow paint flaking off in long curling strips, and watched the war’s probabilities on the white screen, black text telling him all the outcomes, all the worlds that would spin out of this conflict. Maria had told him that the way to stop pollution was to remove the futures where it existed. Could he do the same with the war? “What does your crystal ball say?” Derrick asked, handing him a glass of their awful wine. “What’s the future?” “Probabilities for war are difficult. There are many futures.” Nicholas was uncomfortable with Derrick even now, a friend out of necessity, not out of compassion. “I don’t need numbers to know that they’re gonna lose.” Derrick said before taking a sip. “It’s not about you, or your crystal ball, it’s about showing The Company we’re not just resources. People are not minerals, you can’t just use them up and toss them aside when you’re done.” Numbers flashed on the screen and Nicholas looked over at Derrick. “You’ll win.” “We’ll win, no numbers involved.” As Maria had taught him, as his father had taught Maria, he began to discard the worlds in which they lost, and each number, each future, became a little more probable until there was only one left, only one future for those that had been left on this planet. They would win. Nicholas had made sure of it. --------------- Nobody exists in all futures, Nicholas rationalized four days later, walking with Derrick and Dominick through the remnants of a battlefield. The mechanical hounds nimbly circumvented the bodies sprawled on the barren grasslands near their encampment, their weaponry surveying the landscape like ominous mechanical eyes. The rhythmic hissing of ocean waves against the shore echoed as they treaded towards the spaceship that Volodi and Pete had discovered. Dominick would pause every few bodies and crouch down to check on the corpses, to prove they were truly dead to himself. Derrick was far beyond that, holding a submachine gun in his hands, his brown eyes cutting across the killing fields. Nicholas and Derrick both knew that by the time the battle dawned, that the future had been warped in their favour, by both foresight and Nicholas. A spaceship, black and gleaming, loomed on a hillock like a bird ready for flight. Pete, brandishing a screwdriver, could be seen waving towards them. Next to him, Volodi smacked him playfully, pointing to something behind the two of them. At the fourth body, Derrick became annoyed. “They’re dead, and if they weren’t dead, you wouldn’t be able to walk around checking on them.” Dominick did not move from the mangled corpse even as a dog nudged it with its spiky legs, eager to please the humans that it was programmed to let live. “They didn’t fight.” “They were a contingent of fifty or so men up against over two hundred of the dogs, even if we had sent out our smallest contingent they were no match, it’s better that Pete got to them before I did. I am not as kind to my old employer.” Derrick said as they hiked up a hill, but he sent a knowing glance backwards to Nicholas. “We need to see if the ship is in order, Dominick, to get Maria off the planet. If it was only a small group, a bigger group will come.” Nicholas soothed. Dominick’s eyes narrowed at Maria’s name and he stood up, wiping the blood from checking the body onto his own hands. Nicholas watched the blood streak his linens and averted his eyes, every time he saw blood, every time he saw a corpse, he saw his father. “I suppose.” Volodi looked pleased to see them as Pete dragged out another body down the ramp and out of the spaceship, dogs moved hither and thither inside the gleaming structure. Wealth, Nicholas thought, was newness. Each surface of the ship was clean and spotless, he could see his reflection in every screen, in every control panel. They stood now at the abandoned helm, looking out over the barren landscape, the mines were so small now they looked like toys. “It’s a newer model.” Volodi said, tapping the panel of a thousand and one buttons in front of them, “but it’s all the same parts. Pete found plans for another planet in here, not but a week’s travel to the next system where it seems this was built.” “A new planet.” Derrick said, reverence in his voice. “A new start.” "And no fish," Pete added, approaching the group, his attire bearing the marks of toil and battle. "We could depart by nightfall. It has room for hundreds. The schematics are complex; it might take me a week to comprehend it fully. We can begin loading and depart whenever you're ready, Captain." Derrick offered his hand to Nicholas, foisting the title to him. “And our captain.” Nicholas didn’t move, the gravity was not missed. “You are the captain, Derrick, I’ll be here, with the numbers.” “If that’s how you want to play it.” Derrick said with a smile, and the two men shook on it before Derrick turned back to the large windows before them. “Captain Derrick.” Nicholas realized that Derrick knew now how they had won the war. Nicholas had changed the future for them. "Dominick, fetch Maria. I want her to choose her quarters first," Nicholas directed, as Volodi and Pete left to attend to the machinery. Dominick acknowledged the instruction, hurrying off to locate Maria. When it concerned Maria, no task was left unfinished. His transparent fascination was almost distasteful. As the two men stood at the helm of the ship, Derrick waited a beat before speaking, not turning to face Nicholas. "It's peculiar, Nicholas. Since your arrival at our mining camp, our circumstances have consistently improved. The algae, the fish, the weather, and now this victory. I now comprehend why The Company covets you." Nicholas hummed a non-committal response. "Duty by my people, and I will offer you the same, Nicholas," Derrick pledged, extending his hand once more. "What do your numbers say about that?" "No numbers involved," Nicholas affirmed, reciprocating the handshake. "We'll carve a future for us all." Maria was ensconced in a modestly-sized room near the spaceship's helm. Despite being offered the captain's quarters, she had chosen this room. They sat at a table, indulging in a spread of food fetched from the galley. "And you declined the captain's role, why?" Maria queried after Nicholas recounted the events on their arrival at the spaceship. Maria's naivete dawned upon him, and he realized how shielded she had been from the harsh realities of life. "No position is as precarious as that of a leader, Maria. Remember that." She nodded in understanding, continuing her meal. The overhead light glinted off her silver fork. "What now?" "I promised Father to find a habitable planet for you, and Volodi claims there is one – the planet where this ship was constructed." "And The Company?" "That's a concern for the future." "Nicholas, the future is ours." She warned. "Yes." "Therefore, the problem is ours too." Nicholas sighed. "Then can it be a problem for our future selves? I just want to eat." Her laughter echoed through the room. ========== = Act II = ========== He missed the winds of home. In space there was no weather to manipulate, or to hound them. Instead it was a vast ocean of stillness, glittering stars that came no closer or further, a backdrop with which he had become familiar. This meeting, like many meetings the past week was elongated by the indecision of its members. Half the room, the scientists of his department, the other half, the warriors of the mine. The planet that they sought, Theta Draco 6 (TD-6) spun lazily in a hologram in the center of a long metal table, lush green forests carpeted the surface, dazzling blue oceans, and minerals and natural resources that would net the Company trillions. The Company that was currently stationed on this planet had just begun work one rotation ago, not more than 400 revolutions. “They are not fully entrenched, it is a new mine, you can tell by how shallow it is. How clean it is.” Derrick said, spinning it again with his fingers. “What is our outcome?” Dominick straightened up in his chair. “We don’t-” “It is favorable.” Nicholas replied, and Dominick cut him a glare. They all knew what that meant. They would be forced to alter the future, something that was a point of contention within the ranks of the Department of Data. However, this planet is what his father would have wanted for Maria, what Nicholas wanted for Maria. A garden of Eden for his sister to grow up in, to grow old in. “Then it is settled, Volodi says we will be in orbit in no more than 15 revolutions, you have until then to bring things into order. The manifests said they are transporting water. They will not give it up easily. Water is rare, we all are aware.” There was a murmur as the men discussed water. “It will be done.” Nicholas promised. The miners filtered out one by one, but with one glare from Dominick the scientists stayed, they all were lined up on either side of Nicholas, he could see their reflection in the glass windows on the far side. They made a mockery of the Last Supper, he wondered if this was their revolt. “We agreed that we would not use the collapse anymore,” Dominick said. “It’s unethical.” “Is leaving us to die on the hollow corpse of a planet ethical?” He shot back. “We are at war for our lives, you know this, as we all know it. We do not wield guns, we wield the future. The company took everything from us, they took our planet, and now they will take this planet from the people that live here. Will we stand idly by and do nothing? Will you watch them carve out the planet for water to be bottled and sold to those who live galaxies away?” “It’s a slippery slope!” Dominick shot back. “And we are at the bottom! I want to be somewhere other than in the mud of the swamps or knee deep in polluted algae!” Volodi reached out and put her hand on Dominick’s, the rest of the Department fell silent, their eyes downcast. “We will do it.” She said, her eyes cutting to Nicholas. “Because we must, but we will stop, after there is peace.” “I want peace, we all want peace.” Nicholas protested. “But we cannot be at peace if we are on the run.” There was a murmur of agreement. Dominick gritted his teeth beside Nicholas. “As you wish.” “You, above all, Dominick, know why we are doing this.” Dominick’s eyes held treason, but his mouth did not move. “Enough, we are decided.” Volodi said and turned to the man on her right, mid forties, eager to please his superior: Rodion. “Tell us what you know.” The planet flickered from the hologram in the middle to a flat white screen and statistics began to populate. “There are twenty thousand occupying under Craig Richt, VP of Water Solutions.” Rodion began. Dominick made a hissing sound and looked back at Nicholas. “This is not weather, and it is not algae.” “It is war.” Nicholas said, “It is always war, and there will always be a way for us to win, and a way for us to lose.” “What do we target?” Rodion said, hopeful, eager, his blue eyes reflected the hologram, the statistics on the screen. “I must think on it, we all must,” Nicholas said before looking over at Dominick. “Any thoughts?” “None.” Dominick withheld advice, and Nicholas saw this as treachery, yet he bit his tongue. Dominick was no mastermind; he was cunning, but Nicholas was the Datum's sole heir. Probabilities suggested he already possessed the solution. Nicholas excused himself from the meeting, seeking solace in his sister's company, who was enjoying herself in the artificial forests of the kitchen gardens. Overhead hung arrays of blindingly bright lights, illuminating rows of lettuce and plump tomatoes. The sound of her voice was a soothing birdsong echoing through the immense warehouse. Maria stood alongside the cooks over vats of algae. They were clad in department uniform, greys and blacks, while the cooks wore stark white attire that matched the walls. Their hair was tied back as they conversed and gestured towards Maria, enlightening her with their knowledge. "Brother," she greeted him warmly, "You've found me at last." "You're always in the same place," He chuckled, taking her hand, "And the cooks are very patient with you." "The lady was explaining the rot in our seas. We brought it upon ourselves and paid the price," explained the nearest cook, shaking his head. "Now, we grow algae because we miss it!" His laughter echoed through the room, joined by a chorus of his coworkers. Nicholas' gaze moved to the vats of green algae. The source. The genesis. Maria's words about the seas resonated with him. The rot, the algae, their past mistakes, and the future they could alter; it was all interconnected. Their future was a puzzle that only they could piece together. A new war loomed, but with it came the promise of a new dawn, a new Eden for his sister. The thought of it ignited a newfound determination in Nicholas, as his gaze returned to the algae, that unsightly remnant of their past and perhaps the key to their future. --------------- Nicholas' fingers traced an anxious rhythm upon the cold expanse of the desk, Dominick at his side like a shadow's lengthening stretch. The theatre of war, they realized, need not be a blood-drenched battlefield; the realms of thought and leadership could bear more severe scars. With an enemy deprived of its central nerve, as a body would falter without its head, they could win this war in the silence of strategy. It was not unlike an algae bloom, bereft of the pollutants it craved, unable to expand its green grip. In the same vein, The Company would find itself impotent without its guiding hand, its VP of Water Solutions. A conundrum dwelled in the heart of their design. A future without the VP in the picture was enticing, yet it would be a fleeting victory. The absence of leadership would surely beckon a successor. The battleground had to shift inward - to the psyche of the VP himself. TD-6 would not crumble through external force, but from the self-destructive whims of its leader, carefully manipulated by unseen hands. As a painter shapes his canvas, Nicholas would mold the VP's thoughts, converging countless potential futures into one - a spiral into madness. Beneath the cruel orchestrations of this plan, Craig Richt's psyche began to wither. His decisions, once sharp and precise, began to scatter like leaves in the wind. A halt here, a sacking there, funds inexplicably vanishing - the company under his charge seemed to stagger like a drunken titan. It was an insidious malady, concealed beneath the veneer of corporate bureaucracy, lurking unseen for months, perhaps years. The company, vast and intricate, mirrored the complexity of the VP's mind - both now falling into a disarray of their own making. A week into this dark dance of manipulation, the stark reality of their plan's success began to manifest. As Derrick and the miners reconvened within the conference bridge, tension thick as a winter fog, a scout named Alex emerged from the shadows. His uniform, black as a moonless night, seemed to consume the feeble light around him. Beside him was Pete, a grim echo of the scout's demeanor. “Tell ‘em.” Pete said with a shooing of his hands. “We’ve intercepted emergency communications.” Alex said, his voice shaking as he spoke to the larger group. “And stopped them.” Dominick gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white. “Read it.” “Looking for resources, coup is at hand. Need direction from higher ups before we proceed. Work has halted. VP compromised. Coordinates at-” “Enough.” Derrick waved. “Get to the end.” “Planet is facing bankruptcy.” There was a hushed awe. Their plan had worked. “Bankruptcy means every man for himself.” Derrick said, pounding his fist on the table in glee. “We are two days out from the surface according to Pete here, we take it during the bank run.” “Before they can re-org.” A man to the left of Derrick said, an elder of the mining department. “Before they can re-order.” “Ah, boys, I think we’ll do a bit of re-organising ourselves. Nicholas, Dominick, you’ll be with me. Ever held a gun?” Nicholas felt vaguely sick at the mention. “No.” “Yes,” Dominick followed. “Good man.” --------------- Guns were cold, he thought as he sat next to Derrick in the exit bay, a few miners, twice as big as he was, sat around him and Dominick. Nicholas held a gun, a gun that still had rust from his home planet etched into it as a marker of where it was to be returned to. He could feel the gravity of the planet, of the moment, as they ascended through the atmosphere, and yet despite this, despite the blood rushing to his ears and away from his fingers, he heard nothing but the whir of the engines. The ceaseless white noise of the space ship. He tried to overcome his fear by remembering he was doing this for Maria, for his sister that was so desperate for greenery that she spent all her time with lettuce in artificial forests, and with holograms of trees when she had lived her entire life without seeing one. He remembered when the planet had trees, before they had killed them all. He owed it to her. He owed it to his father. “As much as I love space, I love action more.” Derrick said elbowing him, a frisson of fear crept up from his toes as he bumped the gun. “She’ll do you right, Nicholas. That gun has given me a lot. It’s given me this, after all.” Nicholas had given Derrick all this. He wanted a war where he didn’t have to fight, but as he stared into the hard eyes of Dominick, he wondered what atrocities they would commit to take this planet back from those that saw it as a resource, as they saw his father as only a resource. A sudden jolt reverberated through the ship as the reverse thrusters engaged, decelerating their descent. Curling his toes within his shoes, enveloped in the fabric once worn by his father, Nicholas could hear a hiss preceding the eventual landing—two resounding thuds resonated as they made contact with the ground. Their arrival, however, elicited a somewhat anticlimactic reception—a sea of emerald trees welcomed them. Towering forests, their verdant majesty reminiscent of tent poles supporting a sky of deep azure. Three moons orbited the planet at varying intervals within this lofty expanse. Nestled amidst the colossal arboreal sentinels lay a gleaming edifice of glass, a perverse mockery of nature, reminiscent of the time when his father had first brought them to the world they eventually ravaged. It symbolized the semblance of what once existed, before the greed of man had manipulated the weather to insanity and ravaged all in its dominion. Derrick swaggered down the ramp, treading upon mossy grass, traversing the gardens toward a pristine white marble walkway. One hand poised near the trigger, he grinned mischievously before cupping his hands around his mouth, bellowing back at his comrades, "Where, pray tell, is the reception we were promised?" Miners brushed past Nicholas as they eagerly flooded down the ramp, armed and dangerous in mock military precision. The one thing Nicholas could count on was that the Miners were looking for battle, whether there was one to be had or not. They had fashioned themselves into a militia seeking a war to belong to, and Nicholas had brought one to them. This was, Nicholas thought as he took his first careful steps on TD-6, the reason Derrick adored him, not because they had won the wars, but because there were now wars to fight. Yet, despite the fervor for violence that emanated from their ranks, there was no immediate confrontation awaiting them. Instead, they strolled past stone benches and meticulously sculpted topiaries, following the clean-cut pathways that led to the entrance of the towering glass skyscraper, dwarfing both Nicholas and Derrick in its sheer grandeur. Gunfire rang out and there were screams scattered about inside, and the windows cracked, then shattered. The Miners had brought their type of hospitality to the company. Dominick gave Nicholas a warning look before he opened the door and they were blasted with a wall of sound. Derrick, an imposing giant, had grabbed a woman in a tight business suit by her clothing and smiled upon her like a cat to his prey. “Where is Craig?” “Please!” She screamed, her hands coming over his, trying to rip herself away from him. “Please no!” “Where’s Craig? What floor!” “Twenty six!” “Good girl.” He spat and looked over his shoulder at Nicholas. “Let’s go, lad, we have a meeting.” Nicholas nodded, fear had wrapped around his throat, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Is this what he wanted? Is this what had to be done to give Maria a planet? How many men would die this time? He had wanted a bloodless war. Wants were so quickly displaced by needs. “Round ‘em up, Pete, if they don’t want us to beat ‘em, they better join us.” Dominick said with a grin. Pete gave a thumbs up, and opened up the glass doors at the front of the building, ushering in his army of robotic dogs, single file, and after they had all crowded in the vast marble lobby there was silence. The receptionist was sobbing behind her desk, nodding as she was given terms of the Miners to join the ranks. Then the dogs moved, noiseless except for their motors, whirring and clicking as they began to hunt down others. Their metal feet clicked on marble, the only warning that you were about to be rounded up by machines that had been hacked from guides into war dogs. From the point of view of the elevators, Nicholas could see what The Company had come to this planet for, pallets of clear bottled water, wrapped up and stacked nicely in the back of the building at the shipping bay. Now, what the company so sought to mine, was being ignored as the men working the shipping bays were discussing with military men, from one worker to another, from one slave to another. Despite the Miners looking for war, it seemed as if no one on the surface wanted to fight. A series of melodic chimes, and the elevator arrived. Derrick stepped in, his hands resting on his gun, and Nicholas followed into the gold vessel, which closed with a snick and yanked them upwards. The first thing that Nicholas noticed about the 26th floor is that it was red. Red carpets, gold walls, the halls of avarice and greed were cloaked in a mockery of royalty. They were plush under his feet and it smelled like ozone, that bitter vacancy of anything but cleanliness. His ears rang in the absence of sound. Derrick chuckled as he ran his fingers along the wall. “How many men died for these walls? How many miners gave their lives to make decoration?” Nicholas looked over at Derrick curiously. “The Company sees us all as resources, miners and scientists alike, we’re expendable.” “But not him. Thousands of miners are worth one of him.” Derrick said tapping on a nameplate, gold with black letters. “Craig Richt, VP.” Nicholas felt his heart beat faster, vengeance on his tongue. “How lucky he is that thousands came to meet him today then.” “Good lad.” Derrick said with a feral grin as he grasped the gold door knob, and turned it, painfully slow, pressing open the deep mahogany door. The door hadn’t moved but a few inches before there was a scream from a man inside, and then a choked sob. Nicholas’ brow furrowed, and the two men entered. The office was as large as the bridge of the ship, and possibly half the floor of the skyscraper was dedicated to him, luxurious leather seats, towering trees in pots, and at the back wall, below a painting of sunflowers, was a large wooden desk, and a spinning black chair. On the desk was a white screen, he could see the reflection of it in Derrick’s eyes. “Nice place.” Derrick said, moving around the room, but Nicholas ventured towards the screen, trying to see what the VP was doing before he fled. Instead, as he rounded the desk to get a better look at the screen, he found the very man he thought had fled. Craig was a portly, balding, middle aged man, with his knees tucked under his chin. Bloodshot eyes met his and before Nicholas could grab his gun, Craig spoke. “It’s you!” He crawled out from under his desk and lunged at Nicholas, but Nicholas, faster, stepped backwards into the painting of sunflowers that loomed over him. Craig continued, raving like a madman “Every time it’s you, I see you in my dreams, I taste you on my tongue, it is you. You are my every thought. Nicholas. Nicholas!” Derrick was faster and grabbed the back of Craig’s shirt, yanking him away from Nicholas and pointing the gun at his head. “Nice to meet you Craig.” “I’ve seen you!” Craig babbled, his eyes darting around the room “I see you everywhere!” What had he done? Could altering Craig’s future somehow introduce Nicholas into Craig’s memories? Nicholas had insisted on altering his thoughts, not wanting to have another ethics debate with Dominick. But had he somehow brought himself into some kind of entanglement with Craig’s consciousness? “Do you want me to kill him, or are you not done playing with him?” Derrick asked, pressing the gun into his head which made Craig scream like a stuck pig, squirming to get away, panting and sweating. Nicholas shook his head, trying to get out of his own thoughts. Craig continued to rave, “There is more, my boss knows it’s you. I know your name Nicholas Feodor. I knew your father. I had him killed.” He laughed, trying to ease the tension between the three men, but it came out maniacally. “I’ll have your whole family killed.” “Why?” Nicholas asked “Why couldn’t you have left us alone on that planet?” Craig, seeing Nicholas as a way to get out of the situation, grabbed at the boy, his eyes wild and unfocused, but his words clear. “He was in the way of progress. He wouldn’t assimilate his skills into the system. He said it needed a human touch. You can’t fight progress. My boss will be here, and his army will wipe out you and your little group faster than your father’s blood cooled on that junk planet.” He began to laugh again, his mind gone. He had been driven mad by Nicholas, and his words were that of a madman. Nicholas had to be reasonable. Nothing he would say would come to pass. Nicholas could easily make sure of it. Nicholas wrenched away from him, disgusted with Craig, disgusted with the sweat from the man who had killed his father cooling on his skin. There was a moment of silence, when Nicholas saw a flicker of hope enter Craig's eyes, thinking that he had gained the upper hand. Nicholas smiled, the same way Derrick smiled. “Kill him, and let his boss come. Let all of his bosses come. The carpet is red, it won’t stain.” The screen still had help communications written out, with error codes in red, red like the carpet, red like the blood cooling at Nicholas’ feet. Error 550: Sender Unavailable. An ominous undercurrent tugged at Nicholas's consciousness. Meddling with the future carried a weighty toll, a debt yet unpaid. The transient peace they now savored was but an ephemeral reprieve, for the cosmic scales demanded equilibrium. Consequences, those insatiable arbiters of balance, loomed on the horizon, poised to collect their dues. His father had paid the price of an entire planet when he had meddled with weather, now what price would Nicholas pay for meddling in the affairs of men? The future he had rewritten, a gift for Maria, would soon confront the haunting echoes of the past. Peace was always out of his grasp. The cost of their transgressions would be tallied, and Nicholas knew that he, the manipulator of the futures of men, must bear the weight of his actions, for no one escapes the clutches of time unscathed. How much would his promise to his father cost? How much could he afford to pay? ============ = Act III: = ============ As Maria reveled in the scorching embrace of the midday sun, luxuriating in its radiance like a contented plant amidst the verdant splendor that cascaded over the balcony railings, Nicholas pondered the current state of affairs. They now resided within the very abode of the once-mad Vice President, Craig Richt. Though the thought briefly troubled him, distractions abounded in times of peace, diverting his attention from such concerns. TD-6, with its untarnished virginity, unfolded before their eyes in breathtaking beauty. A pristine planet blessed with predictably serene weather, untouched by manipulative hands of the Department of Data, it offered abundance to the ten thousand resilient souls who had chosen to remain even after the labor ceased. Under the guidance of Captain Derrick, a new order began to take shape, akin to a carefully constructed façade of society that masked their true intentions. Despite so much change happening at the very upper echelons of the planet, not much else needed to be changed for those who reported up to Captain Derrick and Nicholas. Dominick took much of the day to day work from Nicholas, and Nicholas spent his free time as he wanted: learning, exploring, and tinkering with time. He was a glorified weather reporter and it was when he was getting ready to meet with Derrick on a sunny summer day that Dominick met him at his door. Dominick always was hanging about, Maria would see him briefly for lunch every few days, and told Nicholas that he was being overprotective, but Nicholas couldn't shake the disquieting feeling that Dominick's unwavering presence held deeper, unspoken motivations—a ravenous desire that lusted after his little sister. “We need to talk.” He said, and Nicholas eyed a piece of paper in his hand. Ah, so the Department finally knew that peace was a lie. Nicholas stepped aside, knowing that when Dominick was in a mood, it was best to let him bluster about before he came to the conclusion they all had. He tossed down a stack of papers with maps and coordinates printed in black and white. “They’re coming.” Nicholas picked up the top sheet to see eight arrows representing star ships on the outskirts of the star system. He had known this as well, he had seen the future he chose when he had decrypted it. When he had killed Craig Richt in the main building months ago. “An army, then.” He said, handing the paper back to Dominick. “How predictable.” “You lied.” Dominick hissed, his eyes moving to Maria who was still outside the large windows behind him. “You said we work for peace.” “You know, as well as I do, I work for what is best for our people, and for Maria. There will always be war until there are those who do not wish to challenge us.” Nicholas said, leaning back in his chair, trying to portray the calm of a leader when instead he felt a storm brewing inside. Would Dominick revolt because of this? His next words were unexpected. Dominick looked down at the papers before them. “You wish to destroy The Company.” Indeed, Captain Derrick had first planted this seed of destruction within Nicholas's mind, in the very same room where Craig Richt's cooling body lay. Nicholas couldn't help but concur. How many more lives would The Company cast aside? How many more worlds would be ravaged by their insatiable greed? The war they waged was just, a righteous struggle to emancipate those forsaken in the wake of corporate tyranny. It was a war they had unwittingly trapped themselves within, driven by Nicholas's unyielding desire to fulfill his father's final wish—a sanctuary, a planet where Maria could truly find solace. “Is that not peace? Is that not the future our people deserve? We waged war for Maria, doe she not deserve some peace?” The daughter of the Datum was perhaps the most coveted, and most revered, due to Dominick’s unhealthy obsession with her. Their department called him the Datum, but their true allegiance lied with Maria, it was obvious to all that looked. It was what Nicholas had wanted, after all. A planet and a people who saw his sister as their goddess, as their idol, and his sister, none the wiser to their adulation. Dominick capitulated under the weight of expectations. “It is.” “Then you will bring peace to her.” His shoulders sagged, knowing what it cost to bring peace. “We will.” A profound silence settled between them, pregnant with the realization that their pursuit of peace would exact a toll far greater than they could fathom. To dismantle The Company, to forge a path towards a future free from exploitation, required a level of intimacy with destruction that Nicholas found both disquieting and necessary. It was a dance of manipulation, plucking the strings of fate to orchestrate the collapse of their oppressors, leaving them with no choice but to succumb to the inevitable. Dominick recoiled from this intimacy, yearning for a more detached approach, one where the Miners bore the burden of delivering the final blows. Nicholas, however, craved control, the precise hand of a conductor shaping the symphony of their fate. It forced him to tread carefully, to ensure that their actions struck with precision, allowing their adversaries to witness the human faces that shaped their impending doom. The momentary tranquility they had savored was but a fleeting respite—a mere interval between the acts of an unfinished drama. Summer, with its languid warmth and abundant harvest, would soon yield to the chill of winter. For summer would not be cherished without the threat of its inevitable counterpart. Leaving Dominick to engage in conversation with Maria, who marveled at the native plants that adorned the back balcony, Nicholas departed in search of Captain Derrick. Now, it was time for Nicholas to face the debts he owed, as the ledger of time demanded its due. ------------- “So the word has finally reached your ears," Derrick remarked from the control tower, a panopticon constructed by Pete, an intricate network woven from weather satellites and other orbiting machines. The room boasted a far more sophisticated setup than the original shed Pete had once run, but the iconic smiling face and crossbones flag still fluttered defiantly, a symbol of their roots as humble robot hackers on the dead planet. “I wondered how long it would take.” Nicholas said sitting down next to Pete who was typing away madly on a computer. “How long would it take for them to arrive? Or how long would it take for the news to reach you?” Nicholas waved it off “Neither? Both?” Derrick snorted in laughter. “What d’we got Pete?” “I have to say one thing, once you’re in, you’re in, security here is a joke.” He waved at the array of CCTV monitors observing various facilities. “One password to rule them all, it looks like.” “So it worked?” Nicholas asked. “Aye, as you said.” Pete grinned. Nicholas had forced the root password reset to something that Pete and Derrick had decided would be easiest for them to remember, and now they sat as superusers on The Company’s expansive computer systems. “We’ve been tracking these guys for awhile, but you don’t seem surprised.” Pete continued, tapping on one screen with his finger, six small dots were moving slowly against a sea of stars. “Derrick says we should wait.” “My thought is if they get here and they die, then they’d be discouraged from returning.” “Intel has it that the Company president is on this one.” Pete said, moving his finger only a few centimeters to the right. “To reassure the board that the company will deal with rebels post-haste.” Nicholas reclined in his chair, acutely aware of the risks involved in allowing them to land on the planet's surface. Yet, he could see the strategic reasoning behind Derrick's approach. Could he manipulate the unfolding events on such a grand scale? Craig had descended into madness over the course of weeks. This time, the path to destruction had to be carefully calculated, a meticulously executed plan that would exact a heavy toll and claim many lives. A military force was not the same as a Department; it was bound not by monetary interests, but by duty. “Understood.” Derrick grinned. “See, Pete? I knew he would do it.” “Volodi said he was a soft boy, but I see he is now a man.” Pete said and offered his hand to Nicholas. “I was wrong about you.” Nicholas shook his hand. “War has a way of making you grow up fast.” The three men sat in companionable silence, before Derrick spoke up. “And your Department? What will they say about it?” Nicholas grimaced, restraining his discontent. Betraying his father's Department would serve no purpose. They remained loyal, not to him personally, but to the ideals of peace and Maria—the embodiment of their aspirations. "They are scientists, Derrick. They understand the necessity of war." “Because there is no other option.” "I have become adept at ensuring there are no alternatives," Nicholas stated, a hint of a smile playing upon his lips. "But in this case, there truly are none, as long as The Company exists there can be no peace." “Time to get a promotion then.” Derrick said, grabbing a glass full of the algae wine that the Miners still favored. “From pesky rebels, to untouchable empire.” “Ah, but they need to touch the fire to learn it is hot.” Pete said. “A child’s gotta learn.” “What a lesson.” Nicholas said, still unsure how he would teach it. Derrick must have picked up on his confusion. “I’ll have Volodi deliver some more intel over the coming days from Pete, you’ll figure it out, we have a few weeks yet, there is a Plan B.” The displays flickered to plan B, showing the water warehouse filled with dogs of war, all lined up in neat rows like toy soldiers. Why did Plan B feel like defeat? Nicholas shook his head. “I alone will determine our future, it is mine.” “I know it lad, but the world is ours, even if the future is yours.” “Why do they struggle so much?” Pete said with a sigh. “When the outcome is already determined?” "Greed," Nicholas answered, his voice filled with a mixture of disdain and understanding. "The allure of the future outweighs a thousand planets." Derrick's tone turned solemn as he interjected, "Just as Craig's life was deemed worth a thousand miners, in their eyes." “Greed makes even the most logical man into an animal. They cannot see the obvious anymore.” Nicholas shrugged. “The more for us.” Pete said. “Let them die as animals do, we cannot educate those white collar savages.” Derrick and Pete shared a smile and Derrick hurriedly grabbed a glass for Nicholas as the three toasted to peace. They understood that the world they had envisioned, forged through the crucible of war, required them to navigate treacherous waters. Yet, the prospect of consequences, both seen and unseen, lingered in Nicholas's thoughts. How could he create a world in which the entire army perished as soon as they arrived? ---------------- Volodi presented the solution a few days later, as they pored over the blueprints of the impending army that would attempt to retake the planet. Their plan involved modifying the ship's exhaust to react negatively with the planet's atmosphere. As the army disembarked, they would unknowingly succumb to the deadly gas, suffocating like trapped flies around their vessel. Dominick recoiled, his hands shaking, causing the scattered papers and the intricate probabilities they represented to dance in disarray. "You would condemn thousands of men to their own biology?" he protested, his voice quivering with a mix of disbelief and horror. Volodi's response was swift and sharp. "Is it preferable for them to shoot us down with their guns? Be reasonable, Dominick! In war, choices must be made." Nicholas attempted to diffuse the situation. “This is the only wa-” “You will pollute the atmosphere!” Dominick raged “It is only Carbon Monoxide, after four to six hours it will react into Dioxide and the trees will take care of what is left!” Volodi snapped, not used to being argued with by Dominick who was usually affable. “We are at war, it is time to look at solutions to war.” “We are monsters if we kill thousands from our screens!” Dominick raged. “Ah yes, let’s go out there, a bunch of scientists who have only ever held guns to pose for photos with the leaders of this planet and wait until the real monsters shoot us so full of holes they will use our corpses as air filters on their ships.” Volodi snapped “This is a peaceful death, more than they deserve. Nicholas, make him see reason!” Nicholas looked at Dominick who was pressed up against the wall like a caged animal, the rest of the Department heads all sat calmly waiting for Nicholas to okay the death of an army by manipulating the future landing. “Sit, Dominick.” Dominick, his father’s trusted confidant, the lech lusting after his younger sister was the leader, but he was a puppet. Everyone who sat in this room now knew that Nicholas led, but did not wish for the title. Instead Dominick got his hollow title of Department Head, while the son of the Datum ran the planet in the shadows. Dominick, for all his raging, finally did sit, his knuckles white on the table. Nicholas continued. “Are your concerns ethical? Moral? Or do you have concerns with our science? Our methods?” There was a long pause. “When first discovered that we could control the future, we promised we would do no evil. Is this not evil? Are we not worse than The Company for killing thousands from our office?” No one spoke, Nicholas could hear the combined breathing of the scientists in the room, his father’s people who had been led to this Eden by the Son of the Datum. “I wish for peace.” “This is war.” Dominick spat, but his eyes did not meet Nicholas’. “The only way out is through.” Volodi counseled beside Dominick. “We must protect ourselves, this is for our people, for our safety. The company must give up the pursuit.” “Dominick, do you agree with science? Is Volodi’s approach flawed.” Nicholas asked again. “No, it is sound.” “Then it is done. We are scientists, not ethicists. We will do as Volodi has counseled.” Nicholas spoke and waited for a rebuttal. The scientists nodded around the table and murmured agreements. “Volodi, go to the 26th floor and delineate your plan to Pete and Derrick, they will give us a when and we will make it so.” Nicholas said. The woman nodded and left first, the rest of the department heads filing out behind them until it was only Nicholas and Dominick left in the room. “You’ve become a monster.” Dominick hissed. “For our people, I am willing to become anything, it is a shame you are not willing to do the same. It seems that for you, The Company’s army is worth more than the life of our Department, of our planet. Are we so cheap to you, Dominick?” “We are killing thousands of men, perhaps tens of thousands with one decision, if made so carelessly-” “What is Maria worth to you, Dominick? Is she worth merely ten men? Or perhaps a hundred? How much are you willing to pay for my sister?” Dominick reeled back, as if slapped. “That’s not how this works, she is priceless, of course she is.” “Then why is it that you are determined to do everything in your power to make sure she is killed by The Company? If you care for her, like the dog that you are, then use some of this passion that you have for the men who wish to rape and kill her alongside this planet, and gear it towards making sure she has a better life. My father made me promise to give her a habitable planet, I intend to keep my promise.” “Do not bring the Datum into this!” Dominick stood up quickly. “You have no idea what I have given for the children of the Datum.” “How will the Datum rest when you are so intent on making sure his children die?” “I can protect you and Maria from armies, but I cannot protect you from yourselves. Remember these choices, Nicholas, because they will lie in bed with you for the rest of your life. There is no greater sickness than guilt, and it will consume you as it consumed your father when your mother died at his hand, or do you think the fires that suffocated her were not his future?” Nicholas’ eyes stung at the mention of his mother, the revelation that his father had inadvertently killed the love of his life. “Get out!” Nicholas roared. “Get out Dominick, or I will have you killed next!” In the waning hours of the afternoon, Nicholas grappled with the choices that lay before him. He had embraced the path Volodi and Derrick had proposed, but the darkness of their methods gnawed at his conscience. Would he become the Datum, haunted by the future he had created? Would Maria forgive him if he carried the weight of thousands of lives lost on his shoulders? He wept for his innocence, shattered by the choices that had led them to this precipice. A thousand shattered pasts and a future sculpted by his hands alone. For Maria. For their people. The sun cast long shadows across the room, as if mourning the innocence lost. Nicholas stood, the weight of responsibility pressing upon him. He would forge a future, for Maria and their planet, but the path would forever be stained by the consequences of their actions. The price of peace was steep, and he would pay it willingly, bearing the burden of guilt until his dying breath. For Maria, he would become both savior and destroyer, a paradox encapsulating the harsh realities of their existence. The path to a new world was paved with sacrifice, and Nicholas was prepared to walk it, guided by love and a desperate desire to protect what remained of their fragile paradise. ---------------- He wore a gas mask as he rode in the truck with Derrick, who still held his rusty submachine gun, a tenuous tie to his old life despite war being waged entirely without it. Pete and Volodi had gone ahead an hour ago with a herd of the war dogs as scouts and confirmed that the army lay dead, the president of the company had been captured and spared for questioning, for a parley between the rebels and their former employer. Rolling green hills were speckled with the corpses of men, dressed entirely in black, laid in neat rows where they lined up in formation and eventually died in formation. The day was sunny, one of those perfect summer days that was in stark contrast to the mood. Despite the outcome being exactly as he had wanted, he felt lead in his stomach that every man had died here because of his decision. “Aye, but you work quick.” Derrick joked as the truck breezed past more and more war machines that had been unloaded, unused. “Pete said they tried to take off but never made it too far off the ground, the ships killed all their men before Pete took ‘em over and landed them again. A few men, navigators and the like remain, but Pete needs more hands to look over things, they can be turned easily with coin and housing.” The truck in front of them stopped and a cool breeze bent the grasses across the plains, shimmering in the early morning light. It ruffled his hair and pulled at his linens as Derrick and Nicholas walked up to where the president was tied up to a chair, shaded by his own warship, a shiny thing, twice as big as the ship that they had come to the planet on, another boon for Captain Derrick and his growing fleet of machines. “Good morning President Vanya.” Derrick said in a mock salute “Lovely weather.” Derrick kicked the president awake, and blue eyes searched the scene madly as he struggled against his bonds. It looked like Pete’s work, he was always quick with wires, and it seems ropes were no different. “Oy! Derrick!” Pete said from the warship, he was at the top of the ramp, in the gaping maw of the ship that was as wide as a house. “You’ll love this!” Derrick gave a roguish smile, something that won him a lot of points with the new electorate of the planet. “Coming, coming. Why don’t you greet our guest, Nicholas?” “Nicholas Feodor.” The president spat. “Ah, you know each other?” Derrick put his hand on his shoulder and leaned down. “Make a good impression Mr. President, Nicholas is gonna determine your future.” Nicholas watched as Derrick disappeared into the warship, leaving him alone with the captive president. A figure dressed in white began a graceful descent, and his heart skipped a beat. It was Maria. Her presence was a revelation—a vision of purity and grace. Her gown, woven with stardust, shimmered with every step. Her long brown hair cascaded like a celestial waterfall, framing a face that bore the mark of divinity. Nicholas's heart skipped a beat as he beheld her, his idol made flesh. His sister, his Valkyrie. She approached, her small hands clasped together, and their eyes locked in a profound moment of understanding. Before them lay the bodies of thousands, sacrifices made in Maria's name. Realities that he had shielded her from, decisions that she was not meant to witness, now lay bare before her. The president sat, his back facing her and she reached where they stood, her hands, small and fragile clasped in front of her, and those eyes, those eyes told him all that there was to know. He had hidden nothing from her, blood of his blood. The next words came out as a hoarse whisper. Surprise took his voice. “You knew.” She stepped around the president, who struggled against his bonds, but even in his position of power, he was now a bystander as the siblings stared at each other, regarding each other now as equals. “Brother, why do you think I taught you to manipulate time?” Now he understood, while he was the son of the datum, she was his beloved daughter. The loyalty of the scientists in his department was not misplaced. How much of this was his own guidance? How much of it was hers? “Why didn’t you say anything? I thought-” He trailed off, not knowing exactly what he thought. He had underestimated her. His own sister. She gave him one of those smiles, he recognized it, she gave it to Dominick often. She looked down upon him as a god to it’s creations: a pitying kindness. “No position is as precarious as that of a leader, remember that, Nicholas.” She turned to Volodi who was coming down the ramp. “Kill the president, I have no use for him now.” “Aye, anything for you Maria.” Volodi picked up the man and dragged him off. To his credit, he did not plead, resigned to the same fate as his army. Nicholas faltered in front of the two women, remembering now the warnings that Pete had given him way back on the dead planet. There was no one more bloodthirsty than Volodi. Derrick and Pete gave a small bow to Maria as she passed them, heading back up into the ship. She offered a smile. The three men turned their gaze towards the field of fallen warriors, a chilling reminder of the battles fought and lives lost. Derrick broke the silence, smacking Nicholas on the back. "Peace, eh?" he remarked with a mixture of satisfaction and weariness. "For Maria," Nicholas replied weakly, his voice betraying the weight of the choices he had made. It had been his guiding mantra—the blood of thousands stained his hands and conscience. He believed he held control over the future, but, like Dominick, he realized he was a mere puppet in Maria's grand design. The future had never truly been his; it had always belonged to her. As the star ascended higher in the sky, casting its radiant glow upon the land, the cacophony of wildlife grew louder. The trees, absorbing the remnants of poison from the air, heralded the gradual return of purity to the land. Nicholas held his gas mask weakly in his hand, a symbolic relic of the battles fought and the sacrifices made. Another day dawned in this conquered garden of Eden, an empire forged through both triumph and turmoil. The war had been won, but the cost remained imprinted upon his soul. For the controller of all futures. For Maria. Hail, Maria. ​