Apollo's Heir

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.

Hers still echoes through his dreams. Over pitch waves and under unlit sky.

Stop there, ma’am.

Is he out there?

It’s not safe yet. We are—

I have to see him.

Ma’am, I will be forced to detain you if you attempt to exit. It’s for your own safety.

I’m sorry.

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A dark man snaps awake. He squeezes his eyes and opens them. On his right shoulder lies the buzzed blond head of a lighter man. Drool slides from his mouth onto the dark man’s coat.

<< Ladies and gentlemen, as we begin our decent… >>

A stewardess stops by their row and looks at the pair. She gestures to the sleeping one.

Do you mind?

The dark man shakes his head and drops his shoulder. Out of the sleeping man’s mouth comes something between a gurgle and a snort as his head dips, and he comes to all at once. He looks in exasperation at his neighbor, wiping saliva off the wool.

Sir, would you be able to bring your chair upright for me?

The lighter man shifts his gaze up, and his frustration fizzles.

Oh, yeah, of course.

The lighter man sits up and presses a button, and the chair rises. He falls back against the seat, and a groggy smile spreads across his lips.

Anything for you, sweetheart.

The lighter man winks at her. She mechanically smiles back and briskly walks up the aisle. He leans across the dark man to watch her leave. His lips whistle softly, and he slinks back and untints the window to watch the descent.

The dark man spots something below. He bends over and wipes his shoe. His fingertips return stained crimson.

A dull thud ahead draws the dark man’s attention, and a row ahead, a pink pig bean baby lies in the aisle. Above and in the lap of the person sitting to the left, an infant sits staring at him. He holds the child’s gaze.

Its guardian bends over and picks up the limp toy. The child sticks its thumb in its mouth and turns away.

The dark man lies his head back. His ears pop.

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With N1’s light behind, the quivering rectangle grows.

Shift down 25%.

From under the rim of her cap, the pilot marks four pillars. Two runways.

A solitary tower at the end.

618, 2.5, 29.13.

Her fingers descend on two buttons, and they glow red with her touch.

To the left, her copilot’s jaw clenches.

Rupert.

The copilot looks over.

The pilot audibly breathes in, holds the breath and exhales with control. Rupert nods and follows. He shakes his head vigorously and grabs two levers.

The pilot returns ahead. Her fingers coil around the yoke. The row of brackets hugging the runway come into focus. 3.78.

She flips two switches with her free hand and pins a third between her pointer and thumb.

And… now.

Rupert pulls a lever. The pilot tilts her wrist up. The yoke slides out of her hand, and the craft begins to glide. She retrieves the speaker clipped above.

Welcome to Phae, the central hub of Ignis, the capital of the Scidit Solar System. The local time is 36:09, and the temperature this afternoon is a crisp seventy-two degrees with some slight showers expected this evening. We know you have a lot of options when you jump, and we want to thank you for choosing Saltus. We hope you have a wonderful stay.

The static cuts. Evaporated tension floats off the copilot. A small chuckle escapes him, and his feet find the floor. The pilot watches him leave. She turns back and bows her head to the tower ahead.

On the exposed top of the tower sits the marble form of a man in heavy robes leans towards the darkening yellow.

Beneath his feet rests a bronze plaque inlaid in the stone;

A P O L L O ’ S H E I R

W i t h a n e y e o f o r a c l e s , h e p l o t t e d o u r c o u r s e .

W i t h a f l o o d o f c h a l i c e s , h e f i l l e d o u r g a p i n g m o u t h s .

W i t h a h e a r t o f g o l d , h e s a c r i f i c e d h i s t i m e .

H u s h , t h e b a b e s a r e s l e e p i n g ,

A n d l i s t e n , t o t h e n i g h t b r e a k i n g .

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Two steps on steady ground, and the lighter man throws up on the dirty city street.

The driver takes the dark man’s coins.

Your friend dropped this.

The dark man is handed a leather wallet, and the taxi speeds off into the drizzling afternoon. He opens it to find a badge and a picture of a twenty-year-old blond with a crew cut. Padraic William Byrne.

TAX 354:#249 BADGE *28295 DOB 18-14-[6063.

With a few more scars and wrinkles than the boy in the picture, the dark man’s partner stands bent over and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Shit, I thought I had it this time.

The dark man passes him a lit cigarette, and his companion pinches it between deep purple swollen knuckles.

Don’t forget to cover that up.

Padraic looks up at his companion lighting another cigarette and then down at his own battered hand. He places the cigarette between his lips and pulls out a pair of gloves from his back pocket.

The dark man turns to the grand building and its towering, formidable staircase of seventy-two steep steps. He begins the climb.

Zev, wait up!

The dark man stops. Padraic takes a quick drag, straightens up and suddenly clutches his stomach. He convulses a bit and his hand jumps from his stomach to his mouth.

Never mind.

Zev turns to the sound of hurling and turns to watch his partner run to a trash can, nearly knock over an elderly couple and heave.

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The Phae Police Station was the first of its kind. In the heart of the city, it was designed to provide protection from any prospective dangers to humanity’s base of operations. Like most of the buildings in downtown Phae, it was designed by Yuro Jilton, one of the Pioneers. The design employs scale to impose on the individual. Past the exhaustive front staircase, colossal emerald pillars adorn the lobby and accompany one’s entry to the station. Many hallways open up to impressive and immaculate open spaces with immense windows. Originally constructed in [4877 and recently renovated in [6041.

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Showered in deep ochre light, a man stands 6’ 5” before a window overlooking the city like a reticent lion.

So. What happened?

Kilroy Johnschild operated as captain of the station when the force recruited Zev. Twelve years to achieve captain, another twelve for commissioner. He was a natural policeman, but politics were not his strong suit. Nonetheless, Johnschild committed himself and mastered it, making history by becoming the first Petri commissioner.

Between him and his two inspectors sits a sturdy red oak desk. Zev speaks up.

In what regard, sir?

The commissioner’s eyes find Zev and dig. Zev meets his gaze. Padraic pipes in.

It’s all in our reports.

Johnschild shifts to Padraic, and Padraic clears his throat.

Sir.

I rather hear it from your mouths if you don’t mind.

Johnschild looks Zev over.

How old was it?

Three to four earthyears at best guess.

Were there any discernible deviations from a typical pedigree?

Not that we could tell.

Padraic chuckles and adds;

A little too good looking if you ask me. You should’ve seen my brother at that age. Whew… Not that he’s much better looking now.

Zev cracks a smile, but Johnschild just stares at them. The levity drifts away, and the commissioner begins again;

No mutations of any kind?

Not explicitly, no sir.

Was its blood red?

Confusion rises on the two’s faces.

Excuse me, was its blood red?

Johnschild does not falter.

Did it bleed red?

Padraic looks to Zev.

We didn’t see its blood.

Johnschild eyebrows furrow.

What about its birthgiver?

She didn’t make it. But yes, she had red blood.

Padraic eyes drop. The commissioner flicks through the open folder on his desk.

And we have no lead on an inseminator…

We didn’t have a chance to question the doctor, so, no sir, not yet.

A small exhale comes from the large man.

I’ll keep our squads in Triangulum on the lookout for her. In the meantime, we have urgent matters to attend to here.

The commissioner approaches them.

While you’ve been gone, we’ve had a string of Pedigree disappearances. Emre of the Aydin’s, Zoya of the Farooqi’s, and Romina and Erasmo of the Gil’s. We have a couple of leads and will phase you into the investigation. Now, go home and get some rest.

Commissioner Johnschild shakes hands with Zev and then meets hands with Padraic. The commissioner slaps down on the top of Padraic’s and shakes. Padraic winces slightly and swallows heavily.

Good work, men. You’ve made us very proud.

The lion returns to his position in time to catch the last rays of N1.

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An immaculately glossy tiled floor reflects a dim red light that flows in from the skylight and a pale yellow from a chandelier holding a globe of Earth encircled by the zodiac. Lining the rotunda’s large walls, grand murals of intricate bodies and bold innovations voyage through the Ages of Man.

A clicking enters and echoes as Zev walks from the hallway to the mailboxes. He approaches XC-26 and dials….13…….08…15. The locker falls open.

A second clicking enters the room. Zev looks over his shoulder to find a plump officer strolling by. Nods exchange, and Zev returns to the wall of dials.

From the open box, a faded string and washer manilla envelope. He undoes the string and flicks through the pages, skimming over the words. A quicker clicking approaches.

Zev spots his partner entering from the hallway. He hastily slides the envelope into his jacket pocket.

He grabs a few other envelopes from the box and closes the door as Padraic leans against the wall.

So, we’re fucked.

Zev walks off, and Padraic quickly bolts after. A syncopation of heel and granite boom in the rotunda and fade away.

They stride through the west hallway past rooms filled with papers and weapons. Padraic nods and smiles to a janitor passing and then whispers half to Zev, half to himself.

There’s no way he knows. Right?

Zev locks eyes with Padraic.

Knows what?

Padraic squints his eyes and shifts to the right, then swallows and nods.

Knows that the travel food tastes like white dogshit. I mean, he ought to know.

Padraic faces forward again and greets the next two passersby; an officer and a handcuffed companion.

Zev tosses a hand up to the older woman ahead to the right at the front desk.

Good night, Barbara.

Nice to see ya, hon.

Barbara spots Padraic and glares at him. His middle finger greets her in return.

Zev and Padraic push past a pair of doors and emerge from the building into a courtyard. A putrid smell hides under the inviting scents of flowering trees. As the doors shut again, Zev turns to Padraic.

Well, he doesn’t know everything, or he wouldn’t be questioning us.

Unless he knows and is testing us.

Unless he’s testing us. Yeah...

Zev rubs his temples. Padraic takes a deep breath in.

Well. I’m gonna pop by O’Shelly’s ‘fore I head home, you care to join?

Not tonight.

The lighter one nods and walks backwards.

Okay, see you in the morning.

Yeah, you too.

The two walk off in opposite directions.

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Last name.

Cerith.

The white coat disappears behind an aisle.

Here we are.

Zev stuffs the paper bag into his coat.

It comes out to ₼25.64.

Zev sighs and places down a slate grey plastic square. A red -₼25.64 appears on the white counter next to the square, and Zev picks it back up.

Thank you for shopping with us. Come again soon.

Zev saunters through the sliding doors and into the rain. He rips open the bag, pops the bottle cap off and tosses two opaque turquoise pills down his throat.

Raindrops refract the neon billboards and the first cold rays of N2. The colored droplets pierce his face with royal oranges, baby blues and magnetic pinks.

The pills burst in his bloodstream, and the glass shards dissolve to a fine sand and fade to warm fingers.

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The key falls. Pale white walks in with Zev into the dark apartment.

He shuts it out, and sapphire leaks through the window, past the rain. He hangs his coat up, and the back of his hand rubs against an unfamiliar jacket. He places a bottle in the kitchen and notices a purse slumped over on his couch. His right hand readies on the light switch while his left runs down his back and finds the grip.

Hello?

Light pops out from under a back door, and shadows run across it with a low murmuring.

The door opens with a creak and a whisper.

Zev?

A dark silhouette emerges, and the switch flips. The willowy young woman recoils, and Zev lowers his pistol.

FUCK!

Nico, what are you doing here?

My dad kicked me out.

Nico unwinds from her defensive stance. A crisp white tee with a wide neck exposes a clean collarbone below thick, disheveled curls. Zev hostlers his pistol.

You can tell your friend to come on out.

Sasha! It’s fine, come meet Zev.

Zev retrieves three glasses and sets them on the counter along and opens the bottle of rich amber liquid. Nico hops up on a bar stool and leans over the counter.

Oooooo, we celebrating?

A head of long red hair walks out of the room. Zev looks over the other woman.

You a Petri?

The woman looks at Nico then back at Zev.

Yeah, you?

A rich amber fills the glasses, and Zev plucks one of them up and pulls the pill bottle from his jacket pocket.

You can stay here. The couch pulls out.

Thanks, Zev!

Zev grins at Nico, strolls past the women, past the crumpled sheets and closes the bathroom door behind him.

Nico’s hand finds her drink and tosses half in her mouth.

Dinner?

Sasha joins Nico and grabs her own. She extends it to her friend. They clink glasses and chug them down.

Yeah, let’s do it.

The duo grabs their puffer jackets, Nico snags her purse and the door shuts.

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Zev stumbles over the bathmat and finishes undressing. Steam starts to cascade down the curtain. Two more turquoise pills meet Zev’s tongue. The amber liquid chases. Vapor crawls over his skin.

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The midnight waves crash.

Padraic!

The call echoes down a bright blank hallway. Zev clutches his chest and puffs.

Padraic, get the fuck back here!

Only silence answers the plea. Then footsteps approach.

Stop there, ma’am.

Is he out there?

It’s not safe yet. We are—

I have to see him.

Ma’am, I will be forced to detain you if you attempt to exit. It’s for your own safety.

I’m sorry.

Surrounded by opal alps, the green rings burn.

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A rattling buzz bursts in short, sharp shocks from the counter under the shower’s white noise. Zev lies naked below with his head in a pool of blood, slowly coming to.

The buzzing continues, and Zev begins to rise. He winces and drops back down. The buzzing stops.

<< Cerith, this is Lieutenant Yu.

There’s been another disappearance, but this time, there was a note.

We believe that what we are seeing here is a string of kidnappings. >>

Zev blinks slowly.

<< Also, so you don’t have to hear it from someone else, it was Padraic.

Come in when you’re ready. >>

The line drops. Zev rubs his temples, smearing his face with blood.

The world spins.