Cocoon: Book 1 - Chapter 1

“Certainly, intelligent leaders such as yourselves can see the need for mutual aid, for an agreement to maintain order. If the last centuries taught us anything, it should be that fighting amongst ourselves is unproductive–but beyond that–it is unprofitable. From hence forth, I propose a committee, between ourselves, to decide and put forth the interests of the majority, rather than fighting amongst ourselves like the barbarians of the old. We shall quash those that seek chaos, and build credit on each other’s word. We shall form a Galactic Union.”

-Vlad Tolicon, The Forging, 2894

-–

Jaido sat across from a man who wanted nothing more than to see his decapitated head launched out of an airlock. Better yet, the man wanted to watch Jaido’s scrawny body launched out in its whole–then drive out in a traipser and lock his feet to the grey ground of the moon they stood on. 

Jaido recognized all of this from looking at the man’s face, though he didn’t require use of his abilities for the task. It was obvious to anyone, even the untrained workers the man represented. They knew how to mine rhodium, but analyzing faces was a skill Jaido had perfected over the twenty years of his lifetime, not a skill any old miner could pick up. 

Behind the man stood one man, and one woman. The man was eight feet tall, easily. The woman was slightly shorter, but both had bodies that seemed to be made from the very metal mined on this moon. Jaido recognized early on that these were mercenaries, not loyal to the man. When Jaido raised the subject of money earlier, the corners of their mouths slightly perked. Their eyes were shielded, but much could be discerned from the shape of a person’s mouth, in Jaido’s experience. 

Behind Jaido stood Ashani, a dark-skinned woman who was not his boss.

“Who’s your boss, kid?” Shall said. 

“The same as yours.”

“And who might that be?”

Jaido breathed out sympathetically. “The Union.”

Shall scoffed. “Union? You call that a union?”

“I only call it how it is, Senior Shall. Trust me, I don’t support them any more than you do.”

“You seem more than happy to clean up their messes.”

“If it wasn’t me, it’d be another,” Jaido said, this time more firmly. 

“Never seems to be your fault, does it?” Shall said.

“I understand your frustration, Senior–”

“I’d like you to stop using my title.”

“Of course, I apologize. As you can see, my training often gets in the way of my politeness.” Jaido feigned a self-embarrassed expression, wincing at himself. 

Shall squinted, smiling slightly. “How old are you, kid?”

Jaido chuckled like an old friend would. “Why?”

“Because,” Shall said, relishing the next bit, “I want to know how many joints in your fingers I should have the guards break.”

“Seems an arbitrary way of reaching that decision. Why not do it as many times as you please?” Jaido said.

“You’re blunter than the usual bureaucrats I’ve dealt with. I like that.”

“Just doing my job.”

“And we’re doing ours.”

“Not quite, and that’s the issue, isn’t it?”

“Well,” Shall said, “Let me rephrase. We would be doing our jobs–if the comhouse Ikar hadn’t left us in the hands of their employers. Nim is paying us sixty-percent of what we’re owed.”

“In a perfect world, you’d be paid two-hundred percent of what you’re owed. But this isn’t a perfect world, Shall. This is a world where if you don’t get your miners back to work, they’ll be paid zero-percent of what they’re owed.”

Shall glowered, and he opened his mouth to speak.

“Let me finish,” Jaido said, holding a hand up. “I’ll make this abundantly clear for you. I’m giving you the opportunity to save your miners’ lives. I’m giving you the opportunity to do your job without the Nim’s mercs getting involved. I’m giving you the opportunity to spare your miners of the chip. Because–and trust me on this one–your miners are going to mine. One way or another, they will. And the Union is far more patient than your immediate superiors, believe me.”

Shall’s glower caved into another expression. Jaido recognized it as fear. The emotion hid behind anger, and petulance, but fear was there. That was how Jaido knew he had won. He stood up slowly. “You’re a good man, Shall. I have no doubt you’ll consider the fragile minds of your employees before making your decision.”

As Jaido got to his feet, he quickly looked to the side to see Ashani’s expression. She smirked ever so slightly. I think that was a success. 

Shall opened his mouth to say something, and Jaido could tell by the pulsing of his right arm that his hand was clenched on a pistol underneath the table. Briefly, Jaido wondered where and how the employee had come into possession of a weapon. It wasn’t an integrated weapon, sure, but it intrigued Jaido all the same. He wasn’t afraid, though. Shall would be too fearful for the employees he represented to dare. 

Jaido and Ashani exited the office, and walked through the dank halls of the exterior station. Most of its architecture was built into the moon Icarus-B itself, but there was a logistics port on the surface, for visiting vessels. It was a smallish complex, at least compared to what Jaido was used to. The comhouse Ikar wasn’t nearly as wealthy as some of the greater Central comhouses. 

Ashani spoke first. “You’re not supposed to threaten them.”

“Sometimes fear is more effective than kindness.”

“I couldn’t agree more. But Kyli won’t.”

Jaido nodded. “As long as the job gets done.”

“We’ll see about that. Senior Shall is an exceptionally stubborn radical.”

“Didn’t you see the fear? He broke. I can tell.” Jaido made sure to keep his voice neutral. 

“What I saw was a man pushed between a rock and a hard place. That’s not a man who would think and act rationally. The Senior strikes me as one who may need another visit.” 

Jaido exhaled. “It’s out of our hands now, wouldn’t you say?”

“Maybe. I’d hate to see a bunch of miners get chipped, though.”

“They should’ve considered that before refusing to work,” Jaido said, this time using a slightly intense tone, an authoritative one he’d practiced since he was a child.

“Nice try,” Ashani said. “But I believe you learned that from somewhere.”

Jaido rolled his eyes playfully. He would’ve responded, but the end of the entrance hall approached, and he needed to secure his vacuum vest. The vest was in fact nothing more than a small device implanted into one’s wrist. One only needed to tap the button on it once to generate an energy field that insulated the entire human body. The same energy field isolated the main entrance from the paper-thin atmosphere of Icarus-B. Jaido tapped his wrist, and felt the fuzzy vest envelop him. A bluish tint interrupted his vision slightly, but it was nothing he wasn’t used to.

Their vessel, the Mandela, awaited them approximately five-hundred meters away from the main entrance, landed on a circular landing strip, the only vessel there. 

It was a fairly large diplomatic cruiser, and the only home Jaido had ever known. Inspired by the exploration cruisers of centuries past, the Mandela was equipped with its own biosphere. Plants grew in the corners of stations like miniature forests, and light rain fell every two weeks through the corridors, creating rainbows that inspired some color beyond the pallid grey-white walls. Only thanks to the Union could such a luxury be afforded to a mere diplomatic cruiser. 

The crew shared a cabin, and only the captain of the vessel, Kyli, got a cabin to herself. Jaido had seen Ashani’s naked body thousands upon thousands of times, and she his. As they approached the landing bay door, Jaido spoke to Ashani through the mindmetal. “Maybe don’t tell the captain that I threatened the Senior.”

Ashani said nothing in response, which Jaido took to indicate agreement. It was difficult to judge based on her face, which was shrouded by the cool blue of the vest. 

They escalated the bay door, which shut behind them slightly too early–tripping Jaido up. Operator Sungwan had a sense of humor, to the detriment of the crew. “Very funny,” Jaido muttered, rolling his eyes. 

Once the bay doors were fully closed, and the two found themselves in the airlock, Sungwan came through in the local mindmetal system. Sorry about that. Malfunction on my end.

Jaido and Ashani tapped their wrists to deactivate the vests, the blue tint to their vision disappearing. The airlock opened into a corridor, which led to a ladder. If one climbed the ladder to the very top, as Jaido and Ashani now found themselves doing, they would arrive to the bridge. On the way to the top were the various stations off to the left and right, if one so opted to stop climbing and enter. Gravity manipulation made this form of intravessel travel quite efficient. Using the vertical structure of the ship, crewmates were able to get from station to station with speed. 

Jaido and Ashani climbed to the bridge, where Captain Kyli and Sungwan awaited. Kyli was a brown-skinned woman who wore an eyepatch. She never smiled. The only time her teeth showed was when she spoke, with her low monotone voice. 

Sungwan wore glasses–not for medical reasons, but glasses that allowed him to interact with the moving parts of the Mandela. He was short, with a slouch. Unlike Kyli, he always smiled. 

Jaido recognized from Kyli’s stance–hands behind the back, eyes carefully placed on the two diplomats before her–that she wanted him to waste no time debriefing. This was possibly a test for him, he thought. Usually, she asks us questions. This time, she’s indicating that she wants us to take initiative. 

“Captain. I believe the meeting went smoothly. The Senior put up a haughty front, but it crumbled once we negotiated for a one-point-four-percent wage increase. I made sure not to resort to his earliest demands–Senior Shall initially put forth a demand of five. I recognized that this was entitlement, of course, and so–”

“Stop,” Kyli said, abruptly. It caught Jaido off guard.

“My most sincere apologies, Captain.”

Sungwan snickered.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Kyli said. “I was almost convinced of your lie–very impressive, Jaido.”

Jaido made a suspicious face. “I assure you, we reached the best possible agreement in the interests of comhouse Nim, Captain.”

Sungwan snickered, again.

“I don’t doubt it. Next time, however, avoid threatening the opposition. Word travels fast between worker operations,” Kyli said.

Ashani spoke up. “With all due respect, Captain, Jaido performed well, threat or not.”

“I can see that, Ashani. Clearly, I’ve taught him well, for him to attempt to swindle me. And nearly succeed.”

Jaido chuckled. “You exaggerate, Captain.”

“Perhaps. This was still a far greater attempt than what you tried to pull on your first mission.”

Jaido’s mind harkened back to his sixteen year old self. Joined by Ashani and another diplomat named Assan, the three of them were able to succeed in nipping an impending mercenary rebellion at the Tokohana estate. Assan, a more physically adept member of the team, was forced to subdue a mercenary for the negotiations to proceed. When they returned to the Mandela, Jaido lied about it, and Kyli had seen through it within seconds. 

Things were certainly changing. In a literal sense as well. Jaido detected through Kyli’s long exhale that she was about to inform him of something. That something was going to be monumental. 

“Sungwan,” she said. He understood. Bells rang throughout the vessel, a beacon of sorts for the diplomats to come to the bridge for immediate briefing. 

Jaido knew better than to ask. Ashani looked at the ladder, quizzically. First Assan, then Naguila, then Robett. Each of them stood straight, waiting. 

“I’ll cut straight to the point,” Kyli said, as if the crew expected any different. “We’ve been invited to the Luki. More specifically, the Admiral Zenden wants Jaido.”

Assan blinked. “Excuse me, Captain?”

“I’m as surprised as the rest of you, believe me. But the orders from Brutaius were quite clear–return to the Luki, send Jaido to the Admiral, and stay until further orders.”

Jaido still hadn’t quite processed this new instruction. His face was blank, silent. Naguila tapped him on the shoulder. “You okay, Jai?” 

Jaido nodded.

Ashani put a hand on his back, but he didn’t feel it. 

Robett raised an eyebrow. “I think we should give Jaido some space, with all due respect, Captain.”

“I’m fine,” Jaido said. “An order is an order.”

Kyli nodded. “Exactly. This is nothing out of the ordinary.”

Assan scoffed. “Yeah, except for the fact that we haven’t been to the Luki in twenty years.”

“And I’ve lived for one-hundred,” Kyli said. 

“Jaido’s lived for twenty,” Assan said.

Jaido’s fist clenched. “I said I’m fine.”

“Buddy, if you’re not, nobody blames you,” Assan said. “If my deadbeat dad wanted to see me–”

Jaido’s eyes twitched in fury. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Assan flinched, lifting his hands in innocence. The hand Ashani had on Jaido’s back squeezed cloth. 

“Everybody, calm,” Kyli said with her authoritative voice. “This is a lot for many of us to process. I suggest you all return to your cabin to rest for the gravity jump. I will speak to Jaido alone.”

The diplomats took turns giving Jaido sympathetic looks as they made their way down the ladder. Ashani was the last to leave. She put her hand on Jaido’s shoulder and stared deep into his eyes. He gave a weak smile, and she went down the ladder. 

Sungwan turned back around, pretending to be absent. 

“You too,” Kyli said. 

Sungwan got up and left down the ladder. 

Kyli sat down in the captain’s chair, which surprised Jaido; she rarely sat down in front of the crew. She invited Jaido to sit in the operator’s seat, with the wave of a hand. Jaido obliged, slouching in the chair much like Sungwan. 

“I can see how troubled you are by the order.”

Jaido sighed. “Only a little.”

“What troubles you?”

“With all due respect, Captain, I don’t think my feelings are relevant to the job.”

“Are you frightened at the thought of meeting your father?”

Jaido stood up.

“Sit,” Kyli said.

Jaido sat back down. “No. I’m not frightened.”

“A less convincing lie than your earlier attempt.”

“The truth is that I’m frightened, yes. But I don’t know why I’m frightened,” Jaido said. 

Kyli exhaled, then finally stood up. Jaido followed, instinctively. “I ask you to ponder your fear, Jaido Zenden. Ponder it, and understand it.”

As Sungwan prepped the ship for a gravity jump, Jaido pondered.