surprises me that your people could ever
have conquered my planet.”
Jon
fell silent, his eyes on Roe, she met him with a scowl, as if he were
somehow responsible.
“I’ll
leave you two alone,” he said, and disappeared up the stairs.
“You
do that!” Roe shouted after him.
Jon
took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. Roe was not that
little girl who had followed him faithfully around the playground
anymore. She had grown. Their mothers had been close friends once,
and he had spent many summer days on her farm, playing with her
brother Andy. Since his mother’s funeral he hadn’t seen
much of her or Andy. Was that his fault or theirs? He couldn’t
remember. His memory of that time was hazy, indistinct. It had taken
him a long time to get his head back together. But not everything had
been fixed, more than a few of his old friends had disappeared.
He
also felt jealous of her relationship with his father. It was more
like father and child than just Marshal and Deputy. A year ago he had
turned down Jacob when offered the Deputy position, revealed his
plans to leave the planet and never return. In doing so he had
started an argument that he had not wished to resolve and cut his
father out of his life like a surgeon removing a tumour. He had
wanted to be free of him. The end result of that argument had been
Roe’s appointment as deputy. She had supplanted him, and he had
made it happen. So why did it make him so unhappy?
The
sight of his father’s empty chair made him put those thoughts
aside. He hurried over to the console, only to find it locked. What
had Jacob discovered? He ran upstairs to check his father’s
bedroom. He was not surprised to find it empty. Jacob was gone.
*
Jon
left Roe behind in the Jailhouse, effectively locking her in. She
wasn’t happy, but he hadn’t given her a choice. It hadn’t
been difficult to unlock his father’s console, it was old
technology keyed to a DNA lock that could be circumvented with a few
strands of hair from Jacob’s shower. Once inside he had
reviewed the most recent searches, and found they tracked one Asher
Smith, recently arrived on Threshold, and staying in Room 218 of ‘The
Away Station’. Jon believed Asher was the man in brown, and
that somehow life had become a little more complicated. Who was he?
What was his relationship to Jacob?
He
pondered the questions as he ran down Main Street, turning off into a
side road leading to the older part of town. The further he got the
narrower and more intricate the passageways became. There were too
many windows overhead for his liking, too many low rooftops. He felt
exposed. Perhaps following his father had been a mistake but he
didn’t dwell on the thought for too long, arriving at a pair of
transparent double doors which ushered him into a building that
required a little more protection from the elements than it currently
enjoyed. The fascia blackened and ravaged by the elements.
There
was little improvement to be found inside, the stone floor muddy and
In need of sweeping and he barely spared the sleepy receptionist a
glance as he mounted the stairs and followed the signs to room 218.
Soon enough the pale blue door hung before him, waiting. He raised
his hand, staring at it for a moment, and then knocked on the door
three times, not knowing what to expect.
“The
door is open, Jon.”
He
was surprised. The voice was like his father’s, but clearer,
more enunciated, and somehow easier on the ear.
“Please,
come in,” the man invited respectfully.
Jon
pushed the door open, and was confronted by the sight of his father
sprawled on the floor, his gun far from his reach. Standing over
Jacob was the man in brown, his expression unreadable on a face
untouched by age or line, the nose missing, the lips thin and the
chin under developed. It was not an ugly face, but it was vacant of
all expression, like a baby removed from the womb too early. Jon drew
his gun.
“You
won’t need that,” the
have conquered my planet.”
Jon
fell silent, his eyes on Roe, she met him with a scowl, as if he were
somehow responsible.
“I’ll
leave you two alone,” he said, and disappeared up the stairs.
“You
do that!” Roe shouted after him.
Jon
took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. Roe was not that
little girl who had followed him faithfully around the playground
anymore. She had grown. Their mothers had been close friends once,
and he had spent many summer days on her farm, playing with her
brother Andy. Since his mother’s funeral he hadn’t seen
much of her or Andy. Was that his fault or theirs? He couldn’t
remember. His memory of that time was hazy, indistinct. It had taken
him a long time to get his head back together. But not everything had
been fixed, more than a few of his old friends had disappeared.
He
also felt jealous of her relationship with his father. It was more
like father and child than just Marshal and Deputy. A year ago he had
turned down Jacob when offered the Deputy position, revealed his
plans to leave the planet and never return. In doing so he had
started an argument that he had not wished to resolve and cut his
father out of his life like a surgeon removing a tumour. He had
wanted to be free of him. The end result of that argument had been
Roe’s appointment as deputy. She had supplanted him, and he had
made it happen. So why did it make him so unhappy?
The
sight of his father’s empty chair made him put those thoughts
aside. He hurried over to the console, only to find it locked. What
had Jacob discovered? He ran upstairs to check his father’s
bedroom. He was not surprised to find it empty. Jacob was gone.
*
Jon
left Roe behind in the Jailhouse, effectively locking her in. She
wasn’t happy, but he hadn’t given her a choice. It hadn’t
been difficult to unlock his father’s console, it was old
technology keyed to a DNA lock that could be circumvented with a few
strands of hair from Jacob’s shower. Once inside he had
reviewed the most recent searches, and found they tracked one Asher
Smith, recently arrived on Threshold, and staying in Room 218 of ‘The
Away Station’. Jon believed Asher was the man in brown, and
that somehow life had become a little more complicated. Who was he?
What was his relationship to Jacob?
He
pondered the questions as he ran down Main Street, turning off into a
side road leading to the older part of town. The further he got the
narrower and more intricate the passageways became. There were too
many windows overhead for his liking, too many low rooftops. He felt
exposed. Perhaps following his father had been a mistake but he
didn’t dwell on the thought for too long, arriving at a pair of
transparent double doors which ushered him into a building that
required a little more protection from the elements than it currently
enjoyed. The fascia blackened and ravaged by the elements.
There
was little improvement to be found inside, the stone floor muddy and
In need of sweeping and he barely spared the sleepy receptionist a
glance as he mounted the stairs and followed the signs to room 218.
Soon enough the pale blue door hung before him, waiting. He raised
his hand, staring at it for a moment, and then knocked on the door
three times, not knowing what to expect.
“The
door is open, Jon.”
He
was surprised. The voice was like his father’s, but clearer,
more enunciated, and somehow easier on the ear.
“Please,
come in,” the man invited respectfully.
Jon
pushed the door open, and was confronted by the sight of his father
sprawled on the floor, his gun far from his reach. Standing over
Jacob was the man in brown, his expression unreadable on a face
untouched by age or line, the nose missing, the lips thin and the
chin under developed. It was not an ugly face, but it was vacant of
all expression, like a baby removed from the womb too early. Jon drew
his gun.
“You
won’t need that,” the
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