CODE

  EXODUS

  Book 4: Farewell Amity Station

  Frank Kennedy

  Dedicated to anyone who does what must be done

  c. 2024 by Frank Kennedy

  All rights reserved

  ASIN: B0D5C1ZB8Y

  A note from the author:

  Farewell Amity Station is set in the universe of the Collectorate, which includes at least three other series. Reading them is not a prerequisite. However, if you want a wider look at the Collectorate, please check out those offerings.

  I’d love for you to become part of my literary family. Sign up for my newsletter, which drops every three weeks along with free books and special offers. You can also follow me on Facebook, where you’ll find me hanging out daily. Come on over and let’s chat!

  1

  24 standard years ago – Swarm War

  Philadelphia Redux, Earth

  UNF MID-STAR LT. SHAD ABDELMANI heard the stories from those who once fought the Swarm in their native universe. “F-grounders don’t talk,” the veterans claimed. “Their God tells them to kill without question. The Scorpion does not debate. Hesitate, show even a flicker of mercy, and you will die.”

  They fought as advertised.

  After one enemy battle cruiser punched a hole through the UNF’s blockade, the ship crash-landed in the heart of Earth’s largest city. The splintered carcass of that monstrous vessel would never fly again, so its captain dispersed F-grounders into the alien surroundings with a simple order: Kill anything that moves.

  Lt. Shad Abdelmani’s company arrived only minutes later, but the civilian carnage was well under way. The demons in lizard-green body armor spread into the vast residential towers surrounding the plaza where their ship lay.

  Shad’s Captain also gave a simple order:

  Hunt down and slaughter. Faster the better.

  A few F-grounders defended the ship until their captain triggered the auto-destruct system. Fiery blossoms ejected the ship’s bulwark throughout the plaza and into hundreds of flats not already destroyed during the vessel’s wild descent. They distracted long enough for the bulk of their crew to enter the towers, go floor to floor, flat to flat, murdering anything with a heartbeat.

  Their zeal made them as hard to kill as their armor or the steady barrage of blue gas balls from their Force Drums. Many times, Abdelmani felt the heat from an enemy blast miss him by inches. Usually, the Force Drums found a target.

  The Lieutenant frequently stepped over the bodies of headless comrades or those with foot-wide tunnels through their chests.

  The fighting lasted deep into the afternoon. There was, of course, no surrender. The Swarm knew they were done for, but their orders were inviolate. These humans deserved nothing but death.

  Shad, as the highest-ranking officer on the ground, made the critical call when the enemy at last went silent:

  Situation contained. Send in rescue and recovery.

  That’s when civilian screams replaced the disgorging of Force Drums and the repetitive rumble of blast rifles. Desperate pleas arose from the trapped, the injured, and the dying.

  Shad took a moment to survey this beautiful glass city he heard about growing up on Euphrates, two hundred light-years away. Small plumes of smoke and flame escaped from many of the neighboring towers. The tall oaks of Templar Park burned like funeral pyres.

  The worst damage came to Obersson Tower 17. The enemy cruiser sheared away most of its park-facing facade during descent. Glass, structural metal, furniture, and dozens of bodies littered the heart of the combat zone.

  The work had only just begun, and Shad didn’t have the soldiers to handle it alone. Yet he had little choice. The warships which defended Philadelphia Redux were recalled to the blockade or even, as he later learned, dispatched to distant star systems. His Captain sent a second small platoon to assist in recovery then jumped the warship away.

  He set up an improvised command center inside a Scramjet and contacted local authorities to join the rescue operation. As the sun slipped away, a tiny dog’s endless barking grabbed his attention.

  “What is that?” He asked Sgt. Alexi Babb, who pointed.

  “At the pedestrian bridge, sir.”

  A huge piece of the enemy cruiser had flattened the bridge, which once crossed a narrow stream and led into the park.

  The dog couldn’t have weighed three kilograms.

  “Have we checked for survivors, Sergeant?”

  “Don’t know how anyone could have lived through that, sir.”

  “The animal seems to think someone did.”

  Abdelmani approached the rubble with pistol drawn; anyone down there could just as easily have been the enemy.

  He kneeled beside the dog.

  “What’s your name, I wonder?”

  The animal wagged its tail furiously and propped itself on the soldier’s knee. Then, as if making his instructions clear, the dog scrambled to the water’s edge and barked.

  Shad bent down and surveyed the nightmare. What remained of the bridge fell deep into the stream. The tonnage lying on top wasn’t going anywhere until salvage crews and loader drones arrived on scene – days out at least. The water was frigid.

  He flashed a light through a crack no more than a foot wide.

  Oh, dear heavens!

  He saw two boys locked together – their mouths barely above the water line, no space to move in any direction.

  “Hello in there. Can you hear me?”

  The younger boy’s teeth chattered as he spoke.

  “H-help us. Pu-lease.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “C-C-Connor.”

  “OK. Connor, is that your brother?”

  “Un-huh. It ... it’s Trev ... Trevor. He s-saved me.”

  “Is he OK? Is he breathing?”

  “Un-huh. He hit his head. He’s b-bleeding.”

  “OK, Connor. You hang on. We’ll get you out. Is this your dog?”

  The boy sneezed on his older brother.

  “F-Fritz.”

  “Don’t give up, Connor. I’ll be back.”

  He laid out the scenario to his Sergeant.

  “They don’t have much time. The water is too cold, and they probably have other injuries.”

  Sgt. Babb, who had a background in structural engineering, surveyed the predicament. He recommended using a phasic drill. Cut a narrow hole through the rubble. Anything bigger might cause the weight to shift, crushing the boys to death.

  “Let’s hope they’re not snagged on anything.”

  Babb wasn’t optimistic.

  While the Sergeant searched for a phasic drill – much in demand to cut through the wreckage for other rescues – Shad stayed with the boys. An instinct tugged at him, saying today would be a defeat if they died.

  “Still with me?” He asked Connor.

  “Un-huh.”

  “Good. My name is Shad.”

  “Wh-what happened, Shad? Was it t-the Swarm?”

  “Yes. Were you and your brother hiding under the bridge?”

  “Un-huh. It ... it was m-my f-fault. I didn’t l-listen. Please. Help, T-Trev ... or. He’s hurt. He w-won’t wake up.”

  The boy broke Shad’s heart. He had tried so hard to squash his emotions. Friends died all around him that day, cut down by the most savage means, but his heart did not move to feel their loss.

  Soldiers were warned about the Swarm’s brutality and the need to steel their spines for the expected bloodbath. Shad delivered a clinical, strategic approach to battle.

  Why this boy? Why now?

  Shad’s son was seven months old, safe in his mother’s arms.

  He hoped.

  No news from Euphrates must mean good news.

  He hoped.

  “Connor, can you tell me your parents’ names?” After the boy replied through chattering teeth, saying only his mother lived on Earth, Shad asked: “Where is your home?”

  “S-seventeen. To-tower seventeen.”

  Shad stared upward at the building which took the worst hit and was now cast in floodlights. The boy told him the floor and flat.

  “We’ll look for her, Connor. I promise.”

  Minutes later, Sgt. Babb returned with a phasic drill. The cut did not take long, but reaching the boys and extracting them proved delicate. The Sergeant volunteered to go in, but Shad took the risk instead. He slipped through the hole with inches to spare.

  The day did not end in defeat.

  He pulled the brothers to safety. Shad’s heart lifted when he saw both in one piece. Trevor woke mere seconds out of the water.

  Connor held Fritz against his chest while a medic took their vitals. A phasic scan showed no broken bones, although Trevor likely sustained a significant concussion. They suffered from mild hypothermia.

  “Believe in miracles, Lieutenant?” Sgt. Babb asked. “Because they are a cudfrucking miracle.”

  Connor sobbed as he begged Trevor to forgive him. The older brother said little as he was taken to the improvised medcamp.

  “Thank you, Shad,” Connor said as the brothers disappeared into the night. “Thank you. Thank you.”

  Shad gave Babb a new order.

  “Beatrice Stallion,” he said. “I want her found. She lived up there.” He pointed to Obersson Tower 17. “Level 20. Suite 2035.”

 
The Sergeant rubbed the back of his neck.

  “We’ll do our best, Lieutenant. But if she lived near the front ...”

  “I know.”

  Shad went about his business, coordinating the rescue operation with the necessary professional detachment. Two hours later, he’d almost stashed away the moment that ripped his heart out. Then he saw the Sergeant supervising retrieval and disposal of enemy soldiers.

  “Any luck with the Stallion woman?”

  “Sorry, sir. There was nothing left of her suite. The lifetechs have been collecting gene stamps. I would check in with them, sir.”

  He did.

  They found enough of Beatrice Stallion to make a positive ID.

  Shad visited the medcamp against his best instinct. Amid the cots, he found the brothers and their dog. The side of Trevor’s scalp had been shaved and a bandage placed on his wound. He was awake but staring off into space. He paid Shad no mind.

  Connor, however, jumped up and hugged the Lieutenant.

  “You came back to check on us, Shad!”

  “Of course. A courageous little soldier like you? I’d hate to leave without saying good-bye.”

  “Did you find Mother?”

  Naturally, the first question.

  “Well, I ...”

  Shad caught Trevor’s eyes, wide and empty. The older brother shook his head.

  He knows. Connor doesn’t.

  Shad bent down to the little one’s eye level.

  “I’ve been so busy, Connor. I’m sure you’ll hear some news before long. Can you do me a huge favor?”

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “Listen to your brother. He’s the most important person in your life. You’ll have to be strong for each other.”

  “OK, Shad. It’s a deal.”

  Shad mussed the boy’s hair, nodded farewell to Trevor, and left the medcamp, certain he’d never see or hear of them again.

  He had no idea; pieces soon fell into place.

  “So long ago,” Shad reflected from the Captain’s suite aboard MX Transport Dalliance. “Every moment of that day is burned in my memory. Not as if it were twenty-four years ago but twenty-four hours. It stands out even above the day you were born, Son.”

  His XO, Malik Abdelmani, sat pensive listening to his father’s tale. He shuffled with unease at the final remark. Malik massaged his busy mustache and set down his drink.

  “I guess it would,” the son said. “You were ten light-years away when Mom had me.”

  “I always regretted missing my first.”

  Malik, wearing a green jumpsuit, ran an impatient hand through his frizzled brown hair.

  “Why tell me this story now? It’s been four months since you spoke to Connor Stallion right here. You haven’t been the same.”

  Shad thought about that forty-minute meeting, where Connor smoked a cigar and learned of his potential role in a bold future.

  “He accepted my proposal despite knowing I wore a disguise and hid something important about our past. Connor trusted me. If I’d switched off the shifter, he’d have seen why.”

  “You make assumptions, Father. Connor was five during the war. Who remembers what happened when they were so young?”

  Shad Abdelmani swiveled to face the wall of thirty holos from across the Collectorate. Most were live deepstreams; only a few were delayed. These represented less than five percent of his covert access points.

  “It’s a valid question,” Shad told his son. “Our lives crossed at a brief interlude when he and Trevor were their most fragile. If he saw my true face, Connor would have been confused ... but only for a moment. His heart would have called him home, to the place where fate should have ended his life. We remember our saviors.”

  “By that reckoning, you wouldn’t have had to sell Stallion on the plan. He would’ve been devoted from the go. Why remain hidden behind Nexus?”

  Shad / Nexus expanded the holo which showed the Hampton Wave’s landing bay, where Red Team prepared to board a Scramjet. They wore civilian clothes over their body armor. Connor looked dashing in formal Catalan dress and a wide-brimmed fedora.

  “I wanted Connor to believe in the path for what it is. He mustn’t feel as if he owes a debt.”

  “Why not? You saved him.”

  “No. His dog did. I was nearby. Fritz is gone. I’m not.”

  “I don’t see your reasoning.”

  “Son, have I ever asked you to murder a man?”

  “Not directly.”

  Shad reached out his hand until Malik took it and squeezed.

  “Each time, you took it upon yourself because you understood the necessity.”

  Malik stiffened his jaw.

  “To protect you and the cause.”

  “If I had ordered you to carry out genuine horrors, the weight of it would have become a crippling burden. Your devotion to me would be swallowed whole by a blackened heart. Your Mother would have been ashamed to know her son became such a monster.”

  Shad felt the lingering grief in Malik. Three years later, and the suddenness of Hera’s end still carried a furious bite for both men.

  “What are you saying, Father?”

  “Connor will do horrible things for the right reasons, with no sense of obligation to any one man. As long as he believes in the justness of our cause, he’ll complete these tasks with appropriate satisfaction. Even relish. His Dyson arc will finish soon. He’ll be impervious to the frailties of ordinary men.”

  “Men like me, you mean.”

  “Yes, Malik. Like you.” Shad sighed at his son’s self-loathing tone. “I’m a selfish father. I love you too much as you are. Not all our messengers need the polish of a Dyson Shell.”

  Malik unknotted himself from Shad’s grip.

  “Why the fixation on Connor and his brother?”

  There it was. The question Malik skirted around many times since Red Team’s brief visit on the Dalliance. Shad decided his son needed to know. His steadfastness earned the moment.

  “I never thought they’d be part of this great undertaking. After the war, I reserved a small corner of my memory for them – especially Connor. I often wondered what became of them. A year after Amity opened, I visited on a trade mission. My enterprises were small but flourishing. By chance encounter, I met their Grandfather Maximillian. We spoke briefly of the war, and their names filled my ears.

  “I couldn’t let them go. Why? The question vexed me for years. I checked in on occasion, observing from a distance. They grew big like Chancellors of old. Self-sufficient, confident, but decidedly different personalities. Their happiness filled me with joy, almost as if they were an extension of my family.”

  He swiveled to make certain his son took no offense. Malik remained predictably stoic.

  “But not your family, Father.”

  “No. After we achieved our primary goals and Requiem took hold, I never imagined our paths crossing. Then came along Trevor the curious one and Connor in search of a purpose. Now, they’re both moving rapidly toward the center. I simply cannot deny it, Son: There is something at play here, greater than a human design.

  “I felt it that night on Earth. The instant Connor begged me to save them. I felt a shift. Then came the Wave. Now it’s playing out. We’re moving into the final stages of this endeavor. The Stallion brothers will be critical pieces on the board.”

  Malik flipped open the humidor on his father’s desk and propped an unlit cigar between his teeth. He only chewed; never smoked.

  “Greater than human design?” He said. “Are you being literal?”

  Shad swiveled toward the image transmitting from inside the Amity Station Governor’s office. Trevor paced while dictating to his pom. He wore a sharp blue suit with a fluffed collar, popular among the administrative class.

  “In Gov. Stallion’s case? Quite possibly.”

  “You still believe the Void intelligence will play a role?”

  “At the right moment. The real issue is how Trevor reacts. He used it once to great effect. He saved lives. But what’s coming his way will be far more challenging than a tiny gang of terrorists.”

  “He worries me, Father. He could be one of our best allies, or the one who unravels everything.”

  As usual, Malik made a great point, but not one which had gone unconsidered.

  “Which is why he won’t be alone when zero hour knocks on his front door. The prodigal brother must stand at Trevor’s side. Then we’ll know for sure – ally or dead man.”

  “Good,” Malik said with a sharp rap on the desk. “Then you’ll make no exception for them?”