Free The Terminal War: A Space Opera Novel (A Carson Mach Adventure) by A. C. Hadfield Page A

clasped his long fingers together and leaned a little closer. “We need to see and hear what you see and hear,” he said as if that explained everything. “We also need to ensure the safety of our Saviors and the dead.”
    Mach realized then exactly what they were: remote weapons. “So you can terminate us if needed?” Mach said.  
    “If you wish to see it that way, then yes,” Kortas said. “You have to understand, Terminus is the most important aspect of vestan civilization. I don’t expect you to grasp the full consequences of its role, but know this: without Terminus, the Commonwealth will fall. The Salus Sphere has greatly benefitted from the minds of the Saviors. From culture to technology, philosophy—”
    “And war,” Mach added. “Let’s not be coy here. Your so-called Saviors’ technology and weapons killed billions.”
    “And so did your kind,” he said.  
    “Fine,” Mach added, shaking his head. “I guess this won’t get us anywhere. I get it, you can kill us whenever you please, but you still need us more than we need you. You wouldn’t have shipped us out here if that weren’t the case. Our so-called unevolved minds cannot communicate with your dead. Without us, you cannot recover Afron’s mind. So let’s just put all our cards on the table, as it were, and get down to business. What happened to your fellow Guardian, and what do we need to do to get him so we can leave you lot in peace?”
    “I’m glad we understand each other,” Kortas said. He stood and placed a small cube in the middle of the table. With a single press on its surface, a three-dimensional hologram flickered into life.  
    “Here’s our recording of the incident,” Kortas said. “Afron was sent out to a fault in the structure between zones one and two. It’s situated a few hundred meters from one of the fusion generators.”
    Beringer’s interest picked up here. “That’s how you keep the sacred grounds from being frozen like the rest of the planet, right?”
    “Indeed,” the vestan replied. “As well as provide power for our facilities and well-being for the remaining nineteen Guardians—including myself.”
    The group watched the video play out in three dimensions.  
    Afron made his way through an old mausoleum that was crawling with vines and moss over the stone brickwork. In the middle of the dank room stood a translucent tube with a body inside.  
    “Who’s that?” Adira said. “Inside the tube?”
    “A minor figure in our rich history,” Kortas said. “It’s not important to this task. Please, continue to watch. You’ll see how poor Afron got caught in amongst the vines.”
    They followed the instructions and saw, in high-definition, Afron peer through a tunnel in the rubble of the structural fault—and then mayhem. The poor vestan tried to flee… something, but couldn’t manage to save himself. His neck was trapped, around which coiled a thick green vine-like limb.  
    Afron disappeared down the tunnel.
    The video flickered and faded to black.  
    “And that’s all you have?” Mach said.  
    “It is. We’ve provided you each a copy on your bracelets. You’ll find that it works as a small hologram projector as well as… well, you understand.”
    Adira requested the video be replayed, and as she watched, Kortas left the room to prepare their transport to the facility. With him out of the room, the group began to suggest what might have happened to Afron.  
    “To me,” Mach said. “It looks like he fell into the tunnel.”
    Adira shook her head. “The physics is all wrong. I’d say something dragged him.
    “Which,” Beringer added, “brings us to the question of by what?”
    “You’re not buying the idea that it’s a vine?” Mach said. “It wouldn’t be the first time for the existence of a predatory vine. I’ve cut my way through them on Gasetta. Strong damned things when they get a scent of you.”
    Beringer stroked his chin and twisted the corner of his mouth