Narsinyx – Asteroid City of Sorrow

Part Four – The Kinetic Attorney Get Their Due –

The word spread quickly through Narsinyx; the Martian Vilens could track the power-cores.  He was inundated with messages, blocking most of them.  At Angela’s direction, he returned a few, enough to be convincing.  His reply assured the Nyxians he could find the unique generators providing energy for the entire city, and he was informed by multiple sources why the cores were so important.  It was one of the few things he could not know from the Big Sis.  He had to receive it from the tribe.

For decades, the Narsinyx Grievance Brigade acted like law enforcement in the city.  There was no central organization for the asteroid, but since the NGB controlled the power supply they could enact punishments at will.  The power-cores kept all devices on Ceres operating remotely, and so could cut off supply to any of them.  Anyone that did not give in to their demands suffered power failures that could render whole tribes homeless.  No section of Narsinyx could be inhabited without the heat, gravity, and light sources that the power-cores kept running.  The NGB occasionally demanded the other tribes send people down to the cores that never returned.  After Ceres was abandoned, it was the NGB that decided life would be continued in the lower sections, deserting the towers that the asteroid was known for.  To the rest of the solar system, the tribe declared, Ceres was a dead rock.

The Kinetic Attorney wholly agreed; the Narsinyx Grievance Brigade must die.

Once the KA controlled the power-cores, they would control Narsinyx.  In mass numbers tribes came over to the Kinetic Attorney, except for the leaders, cast out by their followers.  Forty-thousand, six-hundred eighty-three Nyxians swore an oath to Angela as tribe leader.  The same oath Vilens made through brain-computer, and Fiddle said out loud.  Each said it in their own phrase, but the meaning was the same.  They would follow her in the Kinetic Attorney until something better came along.  Life was too long to waste on one cause.

“Agreed.  And I can quit any time I want.” Angela replied to all, throwing a wink Fiddle’s way.  She shook out her dreadlocks and they turned bright silver, her eyes changing to match.  Her sleeved, skintight suit was sparkling blue.

Vilens felt an odd sensation as his brain-computer recognized over forty thousand others.  It was not a link, nor was it the blind existence of civilization, living close to multitudes but only seeing a few at a time.  He felt aware of the other minds, not accessed, but always accessible.  He quickly rejected a stronger connection with any of them, considering it a bad time for such distractions.

Angela sent to the tribe, “Gear up for adventure and meet at the fifty-first level reservoir.  I’ll find my own way there.”

The ones before them turned and left, each to find the appropriate equipment for assaulting another tribe.

Angela led him another way and after a few turns stopped at another fabricator.  Without looking at him, she took off her belt and held it out.  The simple looking object was her personal protection device, a private force-field generator.

“You’ll need this more than me,” she told him.

He took the force-field belt from her retreating hand and wrapped it around his waist.  The blue color changed to black to match with his pants, appearing very unremarkable.  He connected to it with his brain-comp and found it had a full charge.

For her own protection, Angela fabricated a lightweight set of ceramic plates woven into a thin, mesh suit with a matching helmet.  She pulled the armor on over her current sleeved suit, stretching the pliable material over her body.  When she had it on fully, the elastic mesh melded with the material beneath, forming one outfit of flexible ceramic armor covering her most vital areas.  She stuck the helmet on her head, and the dark face plate turned clear, showing her features, and the protective plates took on the same blue color.

She sent to him with a grin, “This isn’t as good as the force field, but it will keep me alive long enough for you to kill whoever’s shooting at me.”

He sent back.  “Thank you.  I’ll use it well.”

She nodded with sarcasm.  “I know.  Like I said, you’ll need it.”

They left the fabricator and proceeded to the assembly.  Despite the busy task of forming a new tribe, Vilens’ mind often went back to his link with Angela at the concert.  He had never experienced anything like it, and the desire to do it again, with her, was a constant distraction.  No one else had tried to kill her, which allowed for his distant thoughts.  All recruits were eager to join, something he could feel with his brain-comp when he focused, an experience he assumed was the same for everyone.

He followed around another corner and at the next intersection was the first collection of the Kinetic Attorney, three of the tiled halls filled with expectant tribe members, armed and armored.  Angela strode towards them without hesitation.

“I’ve been part of a mated pair all my adult life,” Angela messaged to Vilens without looking at him.  “I need you more than anyone else here.  You know my mind, felt what we had through the link.”

He focused his thoughts on her and knew she was telling the truth.  She felt far more affection for him than anyone else there, including Fiddle.  Beneath the personal feelings for him, was desperate fear.  She knew her position was precarious.  Without him, she had no tribe, and without a tribe, she would die.  She had lived for over a century, but she was not ready to pass on.  All this he perceived in a moment’s thought.

“I’m with you, Angela,” Vilens sent her.  “Can’t you feel my loyalty?”

Her eyes jerked to him in shock as soon as she received and responded.  “What?  I can’t feel you unless we’re in the link.  I only know what you tell me.”  She recovered quickly and turned her attention back to her new tribe.  Many of them stared at him, and he could perceive their fear.

Vilens sent to her, “Well, know I am with you, to the end of our lives.  Let’s take this whole city over.”

She laughed in delight.  When she responded, she sent out the message to the entire tribe.  “Anyone that’s not here yet, go to the inner levels.  Kinetic Attorney.  Let’s get to the chasm.”

Angela spun in an elegant turn and bolted off in a run, and the tribe followed.  They sped along on their feet, turning corners with her, kicking off walls.  Brain-computers coordinated their motions so that no one stumbled or fell.  Only four turns took them back to the chasm.  Vilens paused to stare down into the darkness, and his brain-comp mapped out the sides based on historic knowledge of the asteroid.

Angela leapt off without hesitation, trailed by the others.  They did not scream and practice acrobatics, merely leapt off into the dark.

Instead of asking them, Vilens looked for the answer in the Big Sis.  The gravity that allowed them to move through the tunnels of the city on their feet was generated by billions of tiny devices all throughout asteroid Ceres.  This artificial field could be manipulated by brain-computer to allow the devices to treat any desired surface as level.  Walls and ceilings could be traversed as easily as the floor of the tunnels.  Through the experiences of the miners, Vilens knew it was remarkably easy to dig minerals out of the rock when no one ever had to worry about falling.

Vilens leapt into the chasm.  He felt the speeding atmosphere tear at his clothes as he accelerated, zipping past bridges that led to lower levels before leaving the city halls behind.  He reached out with his brain-computer to find these gravity generators, and instantly found the complicated lattice of devices.  In Narsinyx they were in every floor panel, every stair.  For miles he fell, seeing nothing but walls of rough stone.  Below him he detected the others, standing on the bottom of the chasm.  He commanded the gravity generators to slow his descent, and he landed next to Angela with little impact.

“You’ve never done that before, have you,” Angela asked, smiling.

Smiling back, he replied, “No, I don’t normally jump into deep pits.  So, could we have walked on the walls all this time?”

She chuckled.  “You are so young; it’s adorable.  I don’t think Trapz was ever that young.  Why would you walk on walls when everything else is on the floor?  That’s a good way to hit your head.  The generators in the city are all in the floor panels.  It works best for liquids, trust me.  The generators in the mine shafts self-tunnel into the walls for maximum efficiency.”

One of the group, Malcolines, with crimson pompadour, dark brown skin, and a long, hooked nose, spoke up, “Still teaching your hound to hunt, Angela?  You can bet your water the NGB is already gearing up for defense.  Stanlee ran out of that room like ol’Grim Reaper was tailing her, and I know they’ve heard the chatter over this new tribe forming.  Let’s get to finding these power-cores.”  Others in the group supported his declaration.

Angela turned an impatient glare on him and replied, “Let’s get to meeting the rest of the tribe.”  She turned and ran again, her strong legs propelling her in great leaps across the rough surface.  Vilens ran after her but started to fall behind the group.  He saw that their strides were much greater than his.  With his brain-comp he manipulated the pull of the artificial gravity and noticed an immediate surge in speed.  Struggling before, by lessening the pull of gravity on him he leapt ahead to reach Angela and match her stride.

The tunnel opened into an immense cavern.  Vilens stared in awe, and with his brain-computer discovered the empty space was over a hundred miles across.

“The heart of the asteroid is hollow,” Angela sent to him.  “We mined every bit of useful material out of this rock.  The minerals we had no use for we crafted into Narsinyx or sprayed it back on the walls down here.  My parents were miners.  They spent a lot of time making this cavern.  It was a point of pride that they form as perfect a circle as they could.”

“I don’t recall any memories of your parents during our link,” he sent back, continuing their private conversation.

She nodded.  “Yeah, I don’t show those very often.  They left when I was two decades old.  Retired to the Callisto Moon Community.  Next time we link I’ll let you see the images of them cliff diving on indoor lakes.”

Ahead was a large gathering of Nyxians.  The appearances of the people were as varied as ever.  No hairstyles, clothing, skin tones, or makeup were the same.  There were some pairs that dressed similar suits of armor, but even they displayed their individuality in wardrobe choices.  There were many two-handed blasters, and even more single hand blasters.  No two weapons were alike, with long barrels, short barrels, double barrels, shoulder stocks, and other accessories.

Angela came to a halt before them.  Vilens stayed behind her shoulder, but the group that tailed her joined with the gathering.

“Lead us to the first power core,” she commanded.

Vilens turned and ran, and over forty thousand Nyxians surged with him.  Their steps were light and barely perceived, rushing across the ground with little drag.  Ahead was a circular tunnel, set in the floor from his perspective.  He leapt into it without hesitation and sped down the center of the circular opening.  He plummeted again, feeling the exultation of Angela behind him.  He felt nothing on his own.  With a brain-comp, this fall was as safe was walking across a floor.  Ahead was the first power-core, seventy-five yards long and moving slowly along the wall.  It did not look like a generator, covered in thick, dark tiles, and the rough surface reflected little light.  Along its length were railings, small buildings, and stairways that told of internal levels.  There was no doubt the signature he followed was the large thing in front of him, but now he could understand why no one had taken down the NGB before.  In the near impenetrable dark of the asteroid core, the large generator was almost invisible.

Scattered over the surface of the device were people dressed in the same type of armor as Stanlee.  Head to toe scale mail, the small scales were colored for different sets.  He did not see Stanlee’s shade of blue, but there were several others, each grouped together.  This was the Narsinyx Grievance Brigade, the same tribe that offered him membership if he would abandon Fiddle’s life.  He was not attacking because they wanted him to betray his brother, but that insult did help with his aggressive motivation.

Some of the oblong NGB helmets had center ridges of different heights and colors.  Vilens steered for one of them with dark violet armor, the only one of that color present, which might indicate rank.  He would need flawless timing for what he was about to do, but he had that now, so did not flinch as he pushed himself with the artificial gravity.  A blaster bolt ricocheted off the shield, and as though that was a signal, highly charged particle projectiles began to zip back and forth all around.  As his brain-computer compensated for the sudden bright bursts of weapons fire, his shiny purple target readied a two-handed axe.  The edge of the weapon glowed as with Stroker, Angela’s sword.

Vilens fired, aiming for the eyes of the violet NGB.  His target held up his axe blade over his face to block the bolts, obscuring his vision.  Still falling at almost terminal velocity, he waited until the last second to alter the artificial gravity pull.  As soon as he cleared his opponent, he changed his gravity to be on level with the power-core.  Feeling the change, he tucked his body and rolled across the wide, flat surface of the generator, ended in a kneeling position, spun, and brought his blaster to fire.

He remained in communication with Angela throughout the maneuver.

The axe wielder also spun to face him as he went past, and braced for the impact of the shots from Vilens.  They never came, not from the direction he thought they would.  From behind, Angela fired at Vilens’ opponent, scoring bolts across his back, shoulders, and neck.  Screaming in pain, he struggled to keep his feet, and there was an opening in the scales that covered the neck.  Vilens aimed for the rent, fired, and saw a spurt of blood as the strike found flesh.  His opponent fell onto his back, finished, the axe clanging as it hit the deck.

Breathing heavy from the exhilaration, Vilens watched Angela land next to him with scores of the Kinetic Attorney.  If he were still on Mars, he would have grabbed her for a kiss, but he had not seen any affection like that since he left the caves.  Moving past him, she led the remainder of the attack.

The Kinetic Attorney swarmed over the fortress, overwhelming the few hundred defenders.  When the time came to sweep the interior halls, the strikes against the NGB were precise.  Angela sent only as many forces as needed, pulling out any wounded and replacing them with fresh bodies.  Still, losses were heavy for the KA.  There were five hundred twenty-eight members of the NGB living on the power core.  Equipped with bolt resistant armor and fully charged weapons, they were prepared for a fight to the death.  They got it.  Victorious at the last strike, the Kinetic Attorney lost nine hundred forty-seven members in the conquest.

Standing over the fresh corpse of one of the bodyguard’s of Thideliss, the former commander of the power core, Vilens mentally checked his blaster pistol again to confirm it was empty.  It was merely habit; he had run out of ammo minutes ago.  His shield belt was out of charge, but he had not received any significant wounds.  The barrel of his Martian made weapon dripped with blood, and he could tell it was bent after being used as a bludgeon.  He let it slip from his hand to the ground next to the body.

A few feet away, Angela had finished Thideliss with the vibro-knife he normally kept in his boot.  Thideliss, the tribe commander, wore environmentally sealed power armor with a helmet like the face of a dragon and had accounted for fifty-three of their losses.  Overwhelming her enemy at last, Angela had shoved the knife through the crease in the armor at the neck.  She jerked it back and forth several times before yanking it back out with a spurt of blood.  Twitching violently for a moment, Thideliss collapsed and was still.

They were in a small chamber lined with shelves holding food cubes and bottles of water where Thideliss had made her last stand.  The only door to this room was forced open and corpses from both tribes were scattered nearby.

Angela turned a grin on him, red to the elbow. Her new armor was cracked and scorched in several places from the battle.  She held up the bloody blade and twirled it in her fingers.  “I’m keeping this.”

Vilens nodded.  “You don’t miss Stroker?”

She shook her head.  “I wouldn’t be able to swing it properly in these cramped halls, but this is perfect.”  She sauntered over to bend down and claim the sheath from his boot, tucking it into her belt.  Looking through her lashes at him, she asked, “You feel that?  The last bit of resistance to us taking over this power-core is gone.  It’s ours.”

He could feel it.  Before, he could not access the controls of the machine, but now he could know everything about it.  What he thought was a sole generator was a series of fusion reactors linked, but interdependent.  The shields that contained the deadly radiation were the same kind that protected ships on the journeys through space.  Nothing harmful spilled through.

“There’s plenty of energy here,” he sent to her.  Linked to the machine, he knew of all the current transfers to weapons recharges and medical beds by the triumphant tribe.

“Yeah,” Angela agreed.  “Energy was never a problem on Narsinyx.  These things used to power the lives of millions of people on this asteroid, along with all the mining equipment and security.  We were a self-sufficient, safe harbor in space.  I’ll never understand why Earth Management decided we needed to leave.  There are thousands of other communities in the asteroid belt.  Ceres was the largest space port, but there were many others.  There are asteroids out there like giant floating fortresses.  Structures cut into the rocks as large as cities that house thousands living in complete autonomy.  They have all the water they need.  They have lakes, rivers, waterfalls, fountains where their animals splash around.  They swim, just like I used to.  Before the city was abandoned, we had underground pools.  I remember the feeling of being submerged, the weightlessness.  Sort of like zero-g, but you have more control.  You can go anywhere in the water if you just know how to move your arms and legs.  I haven’t been in water deeper than my ankles in four decades.  That last time there was an explosion and a leak from one of the reservoirs.  I was horrified.  It was worse than watching blood spill on the floor.”

Vilens watched her rant with fascination.  They had pools, lakes, and rivers underground on Mars so he knew about swimming, but did not want to interrupt.

With a slight chuckle, she said, “What I’m telling you is, this is the most significant moment in my life.  I never thought I would be in command of a Narsinyx power-core.  Not too long ago, I was giving myself up for recycling.”  She glanced down at her gory outfit.  “Let’s find a cleanser, charge up, find a next target and hit them again.  We need to be as quick as possible on this.”

He glanced around at the weapons scattered across the floor among the bodies.  “I broke my pistol.  I need a new one.”

“Here,” she offered and picked up two identical silver blasters.  The lenses over the barrel were green, and Vilens remembered seeing green bolts score through the air before Angela cut down Thideliss.  “These twin bolters were made on Earth.  They were the personal sidearms of Narsinyx’s security chief before the abandon, one of the ones that refused to leave.”

Nodding in gratitude, he claimed the holster belt from Thideliss’ waist and slid the new weapons in.  They felt right hanging on his hips.  “What happened to that security chief?  Did you kill him?”

She laughed.  “Not me.  I haven’t seen Chief Downing or those blasters in sixty-nine years.”

Down another hall they found cleansers and medical beds.  The cleansers were booths where dirt, harmful microorganisms, and toxins were swept away from the body with waves of glowing energy while the target was still active.  Medical beds did the same things for wounded people.  From the Big Sis he knew that the glowing waves were nano-bots cleaning the body and clothing with efficiency.  Others from the tribe entered the room with them, and they both chose a cleanser while others waited their turn.  Growing up on Mars he bathed with a sonic scrubber but had become accustomed to the cleansers during his time on Enigma Jupiter.

Emerging clean and refreshed, he nodded at Angela, spotless in her sleeved black jumpsuit with platinum dreadlocks.

With a thought, Vilens checked the ammo on his new blasters and found that the cleanser recharged them to full capacity, along with his shield belt.  He had twenty shots in each bolter.  They left the area so others could cleanse as well, and Vilens let his mind go deep into the Big Sis, seeking the power signature of another NGB core.  All he could sense was the one he was closest to.

He shook his head.  “I need to be away from this core to sense another.”

Angela rested her fingertips lightly on his shoulder.  “Then we’ll take a run.  Let me know when you’re far enough away, and we’ll signal the location of our next target to the tribe.”

They departed the power-core and jogged along the rough stone until Vilens could sense a different power source.  It was a thousand yards away across several tunnels.  They repeated the cycle, stampeding each core with their superior numbers, moving as quickly as possible.  Vilens led the way without fail, scoring kills with his twin blasters.  He never drew them together, but used them one at a time.  He found an easy pattern, using his left blaster first until he ran out of ammo, then switching to his right.  Anyone that attempted to engage him in melee he would grab with his free hand and shoot them at point blank range.  Recycler drones moved around him constantly, scouring up blood and dragging corpses away.

The KA had taken over six power cores when Vilens received a message from an unfamiliar person and decided to accept.  He had just chased down and finished two NGB members and was walking back down a power-core hall to meet with Angela.

The message was aggressive.  “Damn you, cur, I’ll make you bite the dust!”

Vilens was genuinely confused and sent back, “Bite what dust?”  He glanced around, but the floors were clean.

The sender gave a short, gruff laugh.  “It’s just an old expression from Earth.  I’m Ehchilles, and I lead the Murmurderps, the strongest warriors in all Narsinyx.”

“You really call yourselves Murmurderps?” Vilens asked, genuinely interested.  The different name traditions he encountered fascinated him.

“When you’re the toughest on the whole asteroid, you can call yourselves whatever you want,” Ehchilles replied.

He was already bored with this.  “Are you wanting to join the tribe?  Message Angela.”

Ehchilles sent back, “No, I’m talking to the right guy.  You really don’t know what ‘bite the dust’ means?  I’m going to kill you.”

Vilens smirked.  “Another death threat?  I got a collection of those.  How do you plan to kill me?”

“Because I’m right behind you.”

Vilens turned with his blaster drawn, but the hallway behind him was empty.  He perceived some distortion around the edge of the walls, and suddenly a screen that had been showing him the empty space dropped.  On the other side of the screen were dozens of heavily armed men, hidden behind the cloaking screen until ready to attack.  They were armed with glowing edged gladii and clear round shields held in front of them with edges overlapping.  Their breastplates, helmets, and greaves were bronze in color, and the leader, identified by his brain-comp as Ehchilles, had a bright red crest on his helm.

The Murmurderps charged with astounding speed, holding their shields up as they moved, and murmuring different threats and insults.  Caught by surprise, Vilens fired, but his shots bounced off the shields.  Back pedaling at first, he spun around to flee.  The next intersection was only yards away, but he doubted that he would make the corner.  Immediately he felt a blow on his back from one of the shields.  Sprawling to the hard floor, Vilens rolled with his blaster up but it was knocked away by the same shield.  Ehchilles stood over him with his sword raised to kill, triumph in his eyes visible through the helmet slit.

Although he had not called for help, he received a message from Angela, “I got you, lover.”

Before her message had even completed, she stepped around the corner with a two-handed blaster propped against her shoulder, and promptly fired, striking Ehchilles through the eye slit.  The bolt bounced and sizzled around the durable helmet as the man died instantly.  Other members of the Kinetic Attorney stepped into the hall and began to fire on the Murmurderps even as lifeless Ehchilles slumped to the ground.  Still the followers of Ehchilles tried to kill the Martian, swinging down with their swords.  Vilens grabbed Ehchilles’ gladius from his limp hand and blocked the strikes, not trying to hit back.  The many shots from the Kinetic Attorney began to find their way around the shields, and more Murmurderps fell to the tile floor.  With her long blaster, Angela killed an ambusher with every two shots.

Vilens stayed low, crawling towards his tribe, grateful that these so-called greatest warriors used melee only.  If they had blasters, they could have killed him.  The Murmurderps backed away down the hall, their assassination attempt foiled, their leader dead.  They huddled behind their shields for maximum cover, and after a while the Kinetic Attorney stopped firing and let them retreat.

Vilens rolled to his feet in one nimble motion, and Angela grinned at him.

“You picking fights without me?” she asked, teasing.

Vilens shook his head and motioned to Ehchilles’ corpse.  “This guy found me.  Snuck up on me with a cloaking screen.  He said his name was Ehchilles, and his fighters are the Murmurderps.”

Angela shook her head.  “Never heard of him or his group.  Strange, I thought I knew all the tribes in the city.”

Leaving the bodies for the drones to collect, Vilens claimed the gladius, scabbard, and shield of Ehchilles.  He thought about the armor, but the helmet was a mess, and he worried the heavy breastplate might slow him down.  Returning to the siege, the Kinetic Attorney surged and repeated their bloody pattern.  Within days they conquered all ten power-cores, and exterminated the Narsinyx Grievance Brigade.

Not once in that time did Vilens think about Fiddle.

____

Fiddle sat at the edge of the chasm that Vilens had leapt from with the others, unable to follow the daring maneuver.  His feet dangled over the edge as he stared at the impenetrable dark below.  He had not moved in over twelve hours, but now thirst and hunger prodded him.  Rising to his feet, he tapped his wrist communicator to activate it and a schematic of the area appeared.  The map was from seventy-eight years ago, unable to update in the Big Sis, if Fiddle understood it correctly.  Without a brain-computer of his own, he was unable to keep pace with those that did.  Vilens had not left him out of cruelty, but necessity.  It was Fiddle’s duty to not die and make his brother feel bad when he finally returned.

“Do you think they’re coming back?” a voice said from the silence behind him.

Fiddle jumped and spun around, eyes wide with surprise.  A woman of equal height was standing at arm’s length away, having approached without any warning.  Her light skin was the color of old paper, and her grey hair streaked with white made her look ancient.  Her face was flawless, as Fiddle had come to expect, but she had kind eyes so he hoped that meant she would not hurt him.  She was wearing a robe like Tolera’s, brown and hooded.

“Are you Servitor?” he asked, repeating the greeting Tolera had given him.

The new woman bowed and looked directly at him as she replied, “As the Servitor wills, I am Montgomery.  You are the Martian Fiddle, correct?”

He dipped his head to defer dominance and nodded.

“Then do you think they’re coming back?” Montgomery repeated.

Fiddle scoffed at her.  “I have no idea where the Kinetic Attorney are, or what they’re doing.  Vilens left me behind.  Is this the part where you try to get me to betray my brother?  Are you some kind of new enemy?”

Wincing at his tone, she shook her head.  “No, just wondering how hard it will be to coax you away from the chasm.  We can go get water and food.”  She motioned to the hall behind her.

With a weary sigh, Fiddle nodded.  “That sounds fine.”

He followed Montgomery to a new group of Servitors, and stayed with them until Vilens returned.

____

Angela stood on the deck of the tenth power-core.  Her long-sleeved, tight suit was dark blue, and her hair was gold.  She looked down with gold iris at Commander Mark, the tribe leader of the Narsinyx Grievance Brigade.  His left arm was cut off at the elbow, and she had hit the joint in his power-armor precisely to sever it.  The armor was designed to protect from blasters and heated edged weapons, but the vibro-knife was something else.  Now he was on his knees groveling about some nonsense.  The severed appendage was laying nearby, still gripping his blaster.

Around them was carnage.  Bodies lay strewn about in bloody heaps, most of them her tribe followers.  She did not need to look around to know who had fallen; she could feel the loss through the Big Sis.  Although the KA had the advantage with superior numbers, the NGB was better equipped.  The Kinetic Attorney lost more than half their number taking the ten power-cores.  Through it all was Vilens, putting his new sword and shield to fantastically bloody use.  She followed him into battle, and everyone else followed her.

Mark’s brown face had lost its earlier swagger.  The clear face plate of his power-armor was cracked, by a sword strike from Vilens, distorting his features as he pleaded.  “You can’t do this.  Do you know what Earth Management will do?”

Angela smiled at him and held up the vibro-knife dripping with his blood.  “There were fifty other power-cores under Narsinyx.  Where are the others?”

He panted, and his expression was tormented.  “What are you doing this for?  Do you even know what will happen?”

“What are you saying?” Vilens asked, standing nearby.  His transparent shield and silver blaster were up and ready to protect her if more enemies appeared.

She turned a snarl on him, “Don’t play his game.  He’s had his seat for long enough.”  She turned a sinister gaze on Mark, and said, “You and yours have been down here living it up for decades.”

Mark snorted a laugh.  “Is that what you think?  We were abandoned here like the rest of you.  Is it our fault we were the best at surviving?  You don’t understand.  Earth was going to wipe out the remaining population of Narsinyx until we convinced them to let us be.  They put certain stipulations on Narsinyx, especially our power-cores.  We can only ever have ten operational.”

Angela eyed him, suspicious.  “I was always told the power-cores were so outdated they weren’t worth digging out.”

Mark sighed.  “That’s the lie we told.  It’s true as far as planetary generators go.  These cores are cumbersome and obsolete, but you can power a space cruiser with these.  There’s fifty-eight in these tunnels, so Management viewed it as a potential threat.  We were supposed to destroy them, but there’s no way to sense them unless they’re powered on.  We destroyed two to bring as evidence of our cooperation, make it look good.  We thought things might change, and the city might come back.  So, we kept the rest.”

She turned to Vilens and nodded.  “We’re going to be rich.”  His confused expression disappointed her, and she let out a small sigh.  Morgan had always been able to keep up with the twists and turns of her mind, but her dead mate was not as good at fighting as Vilens.

Mark reached for her to object with his remaining hand, but with a savage thrust, Angela stabbed the vibro-knife through the crack in his face plate.  After yanking her blade back out, the last member of the NGB collapsed to the deck, convulsing as he made gurgling, retching sounds.

Vilens relaxed a little with no living enemies nearby.  “Rich?  How?  I thought this was the plan, to get control of these.”  He kicked the tiled deck.

Angela huffed as she sheathed her knife.  She pulled off her blue helmet and replied, “That was before I knew the truth.  All this time I thought we had beat the odds, survived despite what the Earthlings wanted.  Turns out they were being merciful to us poor Nyxians the entire time.  Now I know there’s more than ten of these cores, and you’ve felt their power.  We can keep one for a ship engine and sell the rest.  We’ll retire someplace far from here.”  She sent to the tribe, “If we sell these power-cores, we can afford our own asteroid out in the Kuiper Belt.  Start over.  Begin anew outside of the shadow of Earth.”

Angela considered her new plan simple and elegant, the best kind.  The Kuiper Belt was like a larger version of the asteroid belt, so they would have life on similar terms.  The distant collection of dwarf planets was like a new frontier for the solar system, still claimed by Earth, but far enough away for independence.

She winced as messages began to pour in, responding to her plan.  The answer was a resounding ‘no’.  She shuddered as the tribe replied as one, “We want our city back.  Narsinyx will live again.”

Terrified of what that would mean for them, she looked at her Martian, and he smiled and nodded.  Despite feeling in a dire situation, she smiled back and acquiesced, “Of course.  That’s the real idea.  We’ll light up the city again.  Narsinyx will be the city of lights once more.”  One last time, she thought without sharing.

“What now?” Vilens asked, face full of hope.  He was too young to understand.  While Narsinyx had stood still, Earth continued to advance.  Seventy-eight years was a long time, though, even in their lifespan.  She could only guess at what weapons the Earthlings had to unleash on them.

Angela reached over and laid her bloody fingers on his hand.  “Maybe the Earthlings will change their mind.”

“And if they don’t?” he dared to ask.

She smirked, “Then nothing’s changed.  We’re going to die.”

His face changed to malice.  “Just like the Earthlings killed my people.  I’ll be proud to stand with you either way.”

Angela stared into his pale blue eyes, and his beautiful loyalty changed her mind about his oath.  “No, you should leave this asteroid.  Take your brother and go.”

The drop in his expression tore at her resolve, but she continued, “You are still young, and not tied to this place.  Do you understand what I tell you?  The Big Sis will not forget.  Those that were born here will bear the curse of Narsinyx wherever we go, but you can still escape it.  I have the numbers to get you to a ship.  Take Fiddle and go.  Take with you the memories of this place and what they mean.”

Without warning he stepped closer and embraced her, arms completely wrapped around her waist like some toddler.  Shocked, she held her arms out to the side, uncomfortable with the hug.

Vilens sent to her, “I love you.  I will never leave your side.”

She sent back, “Thank you for the loyalty.  We normally do not embrace in such a way.  We are not children to cuddle in the dark.”

He stepped back with a grin.  “I know you don’t like it, but it’s the way of my people.  I wanted to hug you at least once.  I suppose a kiss is out of the question.”

Her expression went flat.  “I will strike you if you try to press your lips against mine.”

He chuckled.  “That’s what I thought.”

She reached out to link with him, and he accepted.  As soon as the connection was made, she embraced him, clutching his mind as tight as she could.  She pulled back enough to press her lips against his cheek, moving over to his mouth, tasting his skin and saliva as though in the physical world.  Letting her hands roam over his body, she felt his strong back and firm ass.  She sent to him, “So many diseases over the years, we learned to stay close, but not too close.  This is the way we touch, through the Big Sis.  Here you will always find me willing and able to feel you.”

She dropped the link, and her perception returned to the dreary, blood splattered deck of the power core.

Stepping over Mark’s corpse, Angela sent to the tribe as she walked.  “Break into smaller groups and find the other power-cores.  Once we’re charged up, we’ll give a message to the stars that they’ll spot in the next galaxy.”  In her brain-comp the Kinetic Attorney voiced their support, cheering her on.  She was glad Vilens was behind her, to keep him from seeing a tear that leaked down her face.

____

Vilens followed Angela, keeping his eyes open for enemies when not glancing at the hypnotic way her hips moved.  The sword and shield he took from Ehchilles’ corpse were extremely useful.  He did not see the Murmurderps again, but knew through the Big Sis that the mercenary group was ambushed and wiped out by Beats Daboota tribe.

As a youth on Mars, he considered his life bloody, but his former body count was nothing compared to how many fell before him on Ceres.  His brain-comp had the exact number of kills, but he blocked that information.  He did not glorify in his conquests, seeing all the death as merely removing obstacles from his path.  Growing up he had heard many tales of war but knew that this is what it must be.  Enemy after enemy shot at him, lunged at him, snarling curses, and often he barely avoided strikes that would leave him for the drones to collect.  He stepped on bodies until he was red to the knees, barely noticing when the flying drones would suck it from his clothes.

Unlike on Mars, where enforcing the brothel rules showed him many cowards pleading for leniency, no one begged on Ceres.  Everyone fought to the bitter end, gritting their teeth, and staring defiance.  It made him proud to stand with the Kinetic Attorney, as though he had joined a race of elder warriors.  No matter how many died, the rest kept pushing forward.  Between battles, the tribe interacted as much as they could, to increase the memories of their existence.  Many were already recycled, existing only in the Big Sis now.

Yet, the tribe considered the loss worth it.  Spread out through the tunnels, thousands of the Kinetic Attorney found the forty-eight hidden power cores and inhabited them.

Standing on the deck of the tenth captured generator, Vilens wondered when his time would come to an end.  Would he last as long as Angela, who had over a century of memories?  During their quiet moments together, he became lost in her river of life events, pouring through her mind as far as she would let him go.  There were parts he did not have access to, though, the private moments between her and Morgan.  Vilens was not her first love, but he did not mind that as long as he was her last.

On the outside, Angela was crooked smiles and defiant glares, but in her mind she suffered.  She considered that this would be the end for them, convinced that Earth would destroy the entire asteroid to snuff out any rebellion against its rule.  She was far more experienced with Earth tactics, but he held out hope that they would find an escape.  It did not really matter.  She would not leave without her tribe, and he would not leave without her.  He did not want to live in the big, empty solar system without Angela.

That left only Fiddle to consider.

“Does that offer to get to a ship still stand?” he asked her, voice low.  They were alone on the tiled, undecorated deck of the power-core.  The NGB were military minded, and stifled creativity.

Angela turned to him with a nod, her expression blank.  Her hair and eyes were gold, and she changed them before every battle.  “Of course.  Come to your senses?”

He sent to her, “I want to get Fiddle off this rock.  Give him a chance at least.  He doesn’t even have a brain-c.  He can fly away, and I want him to take the Martian extermination records with him.”

She chuckled, crossing her arms under her breasts.  “What good would that do?  That would be like sending a bomb with him.”

“It happened,” he persisted.  “Someone should know what happened to my people.”

She guffawed.  “The truth often gets people kicked in the crotch and tossed in a box.  But hey it, that’s life in the system.  Go find your brother.  I’ll get you that ship.”

Vilens left here there, reducing his gravity to run back to where the main chasm granted access to the city.  Without her near, he felt alone as he charged through the wide, empty tunnels.  Once there, he changed the gravity pull on him and fell up through the dark, quickly reaching the top level where he first leapt off days ago.

The Servitors sheltering Fiddle were not difficult to find.  Vilens turned the corner from one drab, tiled hallway into another lined with brown cloth curtains, some closed, some drawn aside with brown robed people standing beside them.  A few of the people approached, not looking directly at him but sending greetings to his brain-computer.  He assured them the only service he wanted performed was the location of Fiddle.  At the indicated booth, he pulled aside the curtain and found his brother wearing a link headset, lying next to a robed man with dark skin and a long, violet beard.  He sent a message to him, and both men opened their eyes and sat up.

Turning to each other, the bearded Servitor looked directly at Fiddle with a smile, and said, “Thank you.  That was incredible.”  Pulling off the headset, Fiddle stood with a smile and nod, and left the curtained area.

As they walked out of the Servitors hall, Vilens smiled at his brother.  “Making friends wherever you go?”

Fiddle smiled back and shrugged.  “I have more in common with the Servitors than I ever did with the other tribes.”  He sighed and shook his head.  “Did you complete your mission?”

Vilens nodded.  “We wiped out the NGB and found a bunch of extra power-cores.”  He paused, knowing it would be difficult to convince Fiddle to leave without him.  “I don’t think you can stay here, anymore.  You need to leave.”

The look that crossed Fiddle’s face was exactly as he imagined it would be.  He looked angry, hurt, and panicked at once.  After licking his lips, he said, “Just me, huh?  If you don’t want me around anymore, I can stay with the Servitors.”

Vilens stopped, turned, and grabbed Fiddle’s shoulders to face him.  His angry, round face was framed by his black hair, staring defiance.  “I love you, brother,” he told him, and tears started to run down his cheeks.  “You’re not like me.  I’ll never have peace in my life, but you can.  You deserve peace, and you can’t find that with me.  Not here.  I love Angela too, and she won’t leave without her tribe, and I won’t leave without her.  Only one of us is going to survive this.  You’re it.”

Wiping his tears away, Fiddle gave an angry shake.  “Her tribe?  The tribe you just formed with people that wanted to kill you only a few days ago?”

He struggled to think of a way to make him understand.  “Over seven decades she’s been fighting on this asteroid, fighting to survive, thrilling in the kill, drinking the water of friends and enemies.  She doesn’t know how to be anything else, and she doesn’t have the slightest desire to try.  Without a tribe to lead, she’ll waste away.  Life will mean nothing to her.  I’ve been in her mind.  I know her.”

Fiddle’s expression changed to confusion.  “I don’t understand.  What is the threat?  What can harm us here?  No one even knows we’re here.”

Vilens sighed.  “The Kinetic Attorney want to use the power-cores to run the city again.  They want to bring their home back, live in their city, not these maintenance halls.  The tribe leader for the NGB told us if we do that, Earth will destroy Narsinyx.”

Fiddle took a step back, shaking his head in little twitches as he did when hearing something he could not accept.  “So, you’re going to stay here and die?  With her?  I’ve gone along with a lot of weird things you’ve said and done, but this is the worst.  I know you, Vilens.  Ever since we left Mars you’ve been angry, resentful.  You can’t get over what they did to us, so you’d rather die here than live in the solar system.”

As though to prove his brother right, Vilens felt a surge of anger.  Gritting his teeth, he said, “They wiped out our people like bugs!  Our friends, our family!  Like they had no right to exist!  No, I haven’t gotten over it and I never will.”

Not fearing his rage, Fiddle stepped closer and took one of his calloused hands.  “They’re gone.  It’s done.  It can never be undone, and I hate it too, but we must live on.  Let’s leave here together.  We’ll escape the pain of Mars and Narsinyx and everything and go so far away that Earth is just a distant dot in the black sky.”

For a moment Vilens was tempted.  He thought about their parents, his gene-mother and Fiddle’s gene-father, and what they would want.  Questions rolled through his mind.  He was forced away from his first home, but could he leave his new home willingly?  Would anything feel like home again if he left here?

Angela sent him a message.  “I’ve got the ship.”

The temptation was over, and he pulled his hand away from Fiddle’s soft grip.  He told his brother, “I’ve made up my mind.  I hope Commander Mark is wrong and Earth will let Narsinyx live again.  Angela doesn’t believe that, but she’s not right about everything.  If they don’t destroy the place, I’ll find you, and you can come back.”

With a rueful chuckle, Fiddle shrugged.  “Then I’ll stay too.  I have nowhere to go and nothing to live on.  I don’t even have a brain-thingie.  Maybe dying here with you is just as good as maybe dying somewhere else.  She won’t leave her tribe, you won’t leave her, and I won’t leave you.  Nice and fair.”

Vilens took his arm and walked him down the hall.  He knew where Angela was and had already mapped a path to her.  “We’re all that’s left of our community, Fiddle.  We had never met any of the other Martians that were taken to Jupiter.  If we’re both here and it goes wrong, then it’s like none of us ever existed.  I don’t want that, and I know you don’t either.  I can’t live anywhere else now, but you can.  You took care of me on Enigma Jupiter, turning tricks for people who wouldn’t waste a minute of time on me.  You can go on and live for us both.  For all our family.  Please don’t make me force you.”

In one instant Fiddle looked as though he might start sobbing, and the next his expression was cold rage.  He yanked his arm away from Vilens’ grip, but continued with him.  They walked the tiled halls in silence, and Vilens could feel his brother’s contempt like a ghost haunting him.  At least he would be alive to despise him.

They found Angela at the same docking bay they arrived in, surrounded by armed members of the Kinetic Attorney.  The cobbled together ship was still where it was the last time they were there.  Clean spots on the floor told Vilens that the old owners of the ship were not around to object to its departure.

Angela said to Fiddle, “There’s food cubes and a month’s supply of water on board.  Should get you anywhere you want to go in the system.  There’s also this.”  She held out Hickle’s case to him.  “Open it.”

Fiddle took the satchel and obeyed.  Inside were the metal slips detailing the extermination of the subterranean Martians, and a clear box full of sparkling, colored jewels as big as his thumbnail.

She told him, “I don’t know what you can do with those records, but the gems you can barter with to start fresh.  I’ve been saving those since the city was abandoned.  I’m glad I can give them to you.”

Fiddle smiled at her with tears in his eyes.  “Thank you, Angela.  I’m glad I met you.”

She gave back a confused smile.  “Even after what happened with the ZSZ?”

Fiddle nodded.  “I got myself into that mess.  I should have turned around the moment I saw those brutes.”  He looked at Vilens, and his voice cracked as he said, “If I had my brother wouldn’t be making me leave now.”

Angela set her fingertips lightly on his slim shoulder.  “I know it’s sad, but don’t be angry, Fiddle.  This is the best way.  You deserve to find a place where you can . . . make your own life.”  He touched her hand gently, and then she stepped back.

Vilens walked with him to the ship ramp.

With tears running down his face, Fiddle looked at him and asked, “Do you remember the last thing Mama said to you?”

Since he now had perfect memory, Vilens remembered everything his mother had ever said to him, but he shrugged.  “I hadn’t seen her for about a week before . . . it happened.  The last thing Dad said to me was to give me a collection job.”

Fiddle huffed.  “Dad hardly ever spoke to me.  To him I was just another whore.  The day before it happened Mama and I went shopping at Bold Stalagmite Mall.  She bought me a gold necklace because I was the top earner that month.  You know the one she used to wear?  She got me one just like it so that we’d match.  She said, ‘Just a few more years of work, sweet boy, and I’ll retire and hand you the business.  Don’t worry, though, Saul will always be there to watch your back.’  Only she called you Saul.  That’s the last thing she said to me.  I wish she had told me she loved me.”

Vilens put his hand on his shoulder.  “She showed you that she loved you.  She never bought me any nice things or talked about the business.  To her I was just an arm twister.”

Fiddle threw his arms around his waist in a tight hug.  “I love you, Vilens.  You’re the best brother I ever had.”

He chuckled, since their adopted Martian siblings were more like coworkers, and replied, “I love you, Fiddle.  You’re a better man than I ever was.”

With slow steps, Fiddle entered the ship.  Vilens walked down the ramp to stand next to Angela.  As the crude vessel rose slowly off the floor and backed out of the docking bay, the viewscreen showed him Fiddle waving goodbye.  He returned the wave, and watched the ship depart through the protective field to the cold void of space.  The last member of his family had exited from his life.

“All right,” Angela said and clapped once for emphasis.  “Let’s go piss off the most powerful planet in the solar system.”

As leader of the Kinetic Attorney, Angela had the power-cores linked to her brainwaves.  No one else could activate them unless she allowed it.  She and Vilens walked together, but the rest of the tribe moved through the halls, each to their own destination.  They emerged from the well-lit underground into the dark surface above, the high towers menacing overhead.  He saw others, but they did not greet or even look at the pair.  Everyone had their own spot that they wanted to go to, not only the Kinetic Attorney, but all the city tribes.  The message that Narsinyx would return to full power had spread as fast as thought, and all grudges and feuds were put aside.  Just as with the concert, no one on the asteroid wanted to miss this.

Angela took him to a nearby tower with an elaborate steel door engraved with vines twisted around flowers.  In the event that the dome failed, each of the towers could be sealed against the void.  She grunted as she pulled the heavy door open, waving off his assistance.

“In the old days, a child could open these,” she said as she shoved it, bringing out squeaks and groans from the neglected metal.

The bottom level of the tower was a lobby, empty but for carved stone columns and dust drifting through the stale air.  There was a line of elevators against the wall, but Angela assured him all the relevant parts had been removed.  The stairs were the only way up.  In a corner of the lobby, through a wide plastic door, she found the stairs and began the ascent.  Vilens followed, appreciating the view as he watched her body move.  He considered this might be the last chance he had to stare at her ass.

They passed landings with doors, but she continued up.  After so many steps that he neglected to count, the stairway ended at another heavy steel door, engraved with a single star with twenty points.  This one opened more reluctantly than the first, and she accepted his help.  After discarding his shield, they both pushed the stubborn door open with a loud squeal.  Beyond the door was a wide balcony with a waist high railing that circled the top of the tower.  The air was thin, but his brain-computer adjusted for the air reduction.  The dome that protected them from space vacuum was only a few yards away, glowing softly.  Vilens looked over the railing, and saw the cracked and desiccated city.  From this view the neglect seemed more severe, with cracks so large in some of the towers, he thought they might split apart any moment.  The sheer number of towers, though, left him staring.  From this vantage point thousands of dark stone towers spread to the the horizon of the dwarf-planet.  Small groups of people were spread out among the ones that still had tops.

Angela reached to link with him, and he eagerly accepted.  Through the link she embraced him, crowding his consciousness with her own, gripping him with her mind so tight it made him gasp.  He could feel her fear, trepidation, excitement, and joy.  Her essence quivered as she sobbed against him.

She sent to him, “I was dead, and you brought me back to life.  I had given myself over to destruction, but you showed me one last wonder before the end.  This was the tower I lived in, and this is the spot where I fell in love with the city.  Now I can see my home again in real time.”

Angela shouted over the balcony with all her might, “This is Narsinyx, the City of Lights!”

Through the link, Vilens felt her engage all the power-cores at once.

If not for his brain-computer protecting his pupils, the glow would have blinded him.  The city was not exactly as Angela remembered it, with some towers too damaged to fully illuminate, but it was still enough to make him gasp.  The windows, the railings, almost every surface shone with a bright light.  The dome erupted back to full power, changing to soft blue with hints of the stars still visible.  Vilens looked around, turning his head in all directions, almost desperate to see it all.  Comparing it to the memories that Angela had, it was a dismal thing, the light only showing that its former beauty was gone.  Scattered among the streets and courtyards he could see broad, empty canals, and deep pits where parks used to be, where even the soil was reclaimed.

Across the Big Sis, the Nyxians voiced their dismay over the cracked, broken city.  Some demanded that Angela shut down the generators at once, and that another plan should be invoked.

Alone on their tower, the couple blocked all the other messages.

Smiling, Angela put a hand to his cheek and said, “Damn that city of lights; I never want to leave.  It’s a big universe, but I only want to stay to see your face illuminated in the glow.”  She swallowed, holding back a wave of emotion.  “That was from the Dandelinits second to last concert here, when I was so young.”  She slid an arm around his waist and settled in close, resting her head against his shoulder.  Her hair smelled like the perfume that used to permeate the brothel where he worked, and he suspected that was not a coincidence.  She also had access to his memories through their link.

Miles over their heads, the first battle cruiser came into view less than a minute later, moving so fast it seemed to appear from nowhere.  It was dark, oblong, smooth, and featureless.  From the distance it looked smaller than his finger, but he found out through the Big Sis it was only a few yards shorter than Ceres.  A few seconds later three more joined it, taking up the points of a square.  Smaller ships moved around them, like lampreys swimming in the wake of sharks he had seen at an aquarium on Enigma Jupiter.

“Damn, they’re fast,” Angela whispered.  “I’ve never seen or heard of anything like those ships.  We had no idea who we were fooling with.”

They received a message, echoed through their link, “This collection of individuals on Asteroid Ceres is in violation of law six-hundred-nineteen-thousand-five-hundred-twelve of the Earth Management Statutes.  Asteroid Ceres has been deemed uninhabited and will not be selected for re-habitation.  The penalty for this law violation is immediate revocation of all human rights and corporeal demolition.  In compliance with law seven-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety, Asteroid Ceres will be reconstituted by the Asteroid Belt Preservation League after compliance with demolition.  Appeals will not be received.”

“Fuck them,” Vilens said, glaring at the distant ships.

With a finger, Angela turned his head to look at her.  “Forget ‘em.  Be here with me,” she told him with a sly grin.  Embraced in the link, they lost perception of all else.

A bright light began to form on the tip of each of the battle cruisers.  The lights became beams that met in the space between the ships as one broad blast of searing energy that struck the city directly.  The dome was shattered immediately, and the stone towers were vaporized with all residents.  Narsinyx, Asteroid City of Sorrow, was no more.  The force of the energy blast caused Ceres to crack apart into thousands of fragments, bouncing and drifting.

After the blast had done its work, the smaller ships left the shadows of the cruisers to begin collecting the broken asteroid pieces and pull them back together in accordance with preservation law.

Concluded in Epilogue:  Ruminations on the Big Sis

By Aaron Ward

Published by Aaron Ward

Copyright 2021 Aaron Ward

Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.