Enemy Souls

By A.J. Maguire

Answering a friend's call for help, Jorry and Seach Barlow make their way into Consulate Space, but nothing can prepare them for what's hidden in Saturn's rings.  With their escape botched and their ship broken, they dock at a secret station on Daphnis for repairs, but time is not on their side. Deserters from the Consulate army, Jorry and

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.J. Maguire
• Release date: Sep 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9781087885513

A.J. Maguire

A.J. (Aimee Jean) Maguire is a science fiction junky and an outdoors enthusiast. She loves stories in all shapes and sizes; which means she reads a lot, watches a great deal of movies, and allows herself to be consumed by select television shows. A devoted parent, she believes her son is the greatest gift of her life and enjoys sharing all of her geekery with him. She graduated with honors from Northwest Nazarene University with her BA in Christian Ministries. Maguire has been weaving stories since she was very young and even confesses to having carried 3x5 cards in her cargo pockets while in the military just in case inspiration hit her away from the computer. Her writing runs the gamut from historical fiction to science fiction and she fully intends to be telling stories long into her old age.

Book preview

Chapter One

Jorry stood in Zephyr’s loading bay and reminded herself for the ninth time that Melanie Dubois was Devon’s birth mother. There could be no beating the woman senseless, no shoving her body into one of the smuggler’s caches, and no use of the galvanizer currently dangling from Jo’s belt. For better or worse, Melanie was a reality that Jorry had to live with.

So Jorry did the only thing she could do; she listened.

I wanted to thank you, Melanie said, her anxious face lit up with so much earnestness that Jorry knew the statement was only half true.

Watching the woman fidget with her handbag, a pleasantly blue contraption of shiny fabric, Jorry tried not to notice the similarities between Melanie and Devon. She was a slight woman, almost fragile, so Devon must have gotten his height and build from his father. But the smaller nose and high cheeks, those could only have come from Melanie. And there was a graceful curve to her face that Jorry had noticed echoed in Devon even when he was a little boy, the genetic fingerprints of a woman Jorry thought long dead.

Not wanting to see any more, she glanced away, focusing instead on the open bay door. The Martian desert cut into view, looking stark red against the pale metal grey of Zephyr’s loading bay. After a year repairing the ship on Earth, she’d come to appreciate the seasons and colors of that world. Mars looked barren by comparison, burnished orange rock stretching as far as she could see. The cloudy curve of habitation domes peppered the expanse, but even that couldn’t make up for the vast nothing before them.

Cold air snaked its way into the ship, battling past the cocoon of Zephyr’s environmental systems and chilling Jorry’s taps. She felt the inch-wide metal discs embedded in her skin begin to freeze and suppressed a shiver.

The taps spanned the length of her body and hooked into her bones at several key pressure points. Through them she could feel the pulse of energy in her ship, the buzz of electricity in the lights overhead, and the frantic beat of Melanie’s heart.

Why was this woman afraid of her?

Jorry fought back a scowl and realized Melanie was waiting for her to respond. 

Thank me for what? Jo asked, unable to hide the suspicion in her voice.

Melanie sent her a nervous smile. For watching over David.

Jorry clenched her fists. Devon.

I beg pardon?

His name is Devon, and I didn’t do it for you.

Melanie’s perfect rosy mouth opened in surprise. Devon hadn’t gotten his mouth from his mother.

A flush seeped into Melanie’s cheeks as she continued to stare at Jo. They stood frozen by Zephyr’s conveyor belt, the midday Martian sun glowing through the bay door. Whatever was going on here, Jorry refused to be the one to blink, even if staring at the woman’s too familiar face made her want to scream. 

There’s a cache just under the conveyor, a voice reminded her, and she dug her fingernails into her palms.

Go away, Michael, she thought, willing the ghost into a back corner of her mind.

But Michael wasn’t leaving. She could sense him, a constant unwanted presence hovering around her and nothing she did seemed to satisfy him. She knew he was angry, even understood why – she had killed him – but most ghosts would have faded by now.

This was why Tapped soldiers had sworn never to access human bioelectricity. Because the energy that transferred into the taps lining their bodies always brought a passenger along.

Jorry closed her eyes, forgetting Melanie for a moment as she battled Michael.

Electricity, kinetics, solar, nuclear; hell, even bioelectricity from a plant was better than dealing with the spirit of a dead man like Michael. He was furious and full of revenge, incapable of moving on like so many others before him.

Too many others.

She wasn’t certain if that was his voice or her own, but the thought seemed to quiet him, and she opened her eyes again. Melanie was talking, had been talking for a while, and it took a moment for Jorry to catch up.

I think we both know he would be safer attending a University rather than doing his schooling on board, Melanie said and Jorry frowned.

Safer, Jorry said, still trying to catch up. Why was Melanie talking about school?

He has this crazy plan to do all his studies through the galactic web, Melanie said, more animated than before. But hauling is no life for a boy his age. He needs to be with his peers, needs to experience a more stable environment.

A spark of rage ignited in Jorry’s chest and she lifted a hand, stopping the woman from speaking further. So first you thank me for caring for Devon and then you insult the life I raised him in?

Melanie paled and stammered, no doubt trying to form an apology, but Jorry didn’t wait to hear it. Fury roiled in her gut, sweltering, hot, and unable to be ignored. Twenty years Melanie had been gone from Devon’s life, and twenty years Jorry had raised him. There wasn’t a chance in hell Jorry was going to sit by while Melanie hijacked her son.

For a blind moment she considered the smuggler’s cache under the conveyor. Nobody would ever find Melanie Dubois again.

But no, that would be wrong. Melanie had four other children, most of them grown, and people who would miss her.

Devon might miss her.

Jealousy tore at Jo, but she willed the thought away.

Devon wanted to stay on Zephyr. That’s what this was all about. That’s why Melanie was here, trying to convince her to send Devon off to school.

Taking a deep breath, Jorry eyed Melanie. Devon can make up his own mind, she said. Now get off my ship.

The Consulate will hunt you down, Melanie blurted, the desperation in her face making Jorry pause. They’re coming for you and they won’t stop until they have you.

A knot coiled in Jorry’s chest and she had to coach herself into breathing. Memories crashed into her like waves, years of war churning to the surface and no amount of willpower could turn them away. She remembered the surgery that implanted her taps, the months of training it took before she could confidently reallocate energy to her own purposes. Dead men and women scattered through her past, haunting her just as vividly as Michael did today.

Jorry tensed, sensing Michael’s nearness as a battlefield surfaced in her mind; a rocky horizon painted as red as the dirt outside the bay door, bodies littering manmade trenches and fortifications. They lay as they had fallen, the so-called last bastion of freedom against the Consulate Army.

Against the Consulate’s Tapped soldiers.

Melanie was right. The Consulate would come, was already hunting, and anyone caught with her would be in danger.

Please, Melanie said, her voice entreating for reason. Please don’t let David get caught in the crossfire.

Jorry shook off the past, slamming the memory away from Michael’s prying eyes, and glared at Melanie.

His name, Jorry said through her teeth, is Devon.

Because she couldn’t stand to look at the pleading woman anymore, Jorry left. She walked down Zephyr’s loading plank and out into the crimson hues of Martian desert. Mount Olympus towered over the landscape, its rough surface peppered with brightly lit domes all connected by clear tube-like walkways.

Winter air bit through her travel suit, freezing her taps again, but Jorry welcomed it this time. Anything was better than the anxious growl in the back of her mind.

Jo, Seach’s voice came through the earwire and she relaxed.

At least one good thing had come of their time in the military. She didn’t know what she would do without the surgically implanted communications device.

She touched the bump behind her left ear, releasing the mute on her own earwire. Yeah, Seach?

Doctor Reed is finished with his analysis, he said. We’re ready for you.

Copy that, I’m on my way.

Turning toward the massive bubble-dome structures lining the base of Mount Olympus, Jorry left Zephyr behind.

The ship had one of the most advanced A.I.’s in the universe and would know to restrain Melanie should the woman be stupid enough not to leave. And it had been retrofitted with new weaponry, which insured that no one could get on board without Jorry’s explicit permission.

Let the Consulate come, she thought. We’ve beaten them before, we can do it again.

Devon could make his own decisions. He was of age now, legally an adult, and if he wanted to continue schooling on board her ship, she wouldn’t fight him on it. The Consulate and Melanie could leap out the airlock as far as Jorry was concerned.

Making her way into the nearest dome, she ducked under a low curving metal door. Bubble domes like those that peppered Mars were a mass of confused walkways and tiers, all of them centered on a massive greenhouse that provided natural oxygen and food for its inhabitants. As she passed through the plastic climate control room, warm air replaced the brisk of desert winter and for an uncomfortable moment she felt herself breathing in the moisture of the dome.

Greenery overtook the red-golds natural to Mars, vines crawling up the curving walls or twisting around railings, inserting themselves wherever they pleased. Jorry hurried up a winding staircase, avoiding the banister because it was overrun by something spiky, and headed for Doctor Reed’s lab.

It wasn’t a long trip, but she managed to catch the attention of several curious people as she passed, most of them students or colleagues of the doctor.

No doubt several had guessed who she was. The Consulate had enough news reports spanning the Universe about the events that transpired on Europa nearly a year ago that it was hard to hide these days. An unpleasant prickle crawled up her spine and she scowled at one boy who had been staring.

The boy’s eyes widened and he looked away, a furious blush blooming on his face. Jorry continued her path, frowning even more because she knew what Seach would say about her people skills in that moment.

Reaching the door at last she hesitated, staring at the circular grey surface and blacked out window that said, Doctor Wilhelm Reed in dull gold lettering. 

Her stomach did a flop and she forced herself to take a breath.

This was it; the moment of truth. Either Doctor Reed could fix Johnathan Relo or they were going to have to pull the plug. The knot in her chest squeezed tighter and she closed her eyes.

She had two contrasting images of Relo and neither could be ignored. The first was of the man he’d been, standing tall in his captain’s uniform and winking at her from across the troop transport.

The second was more recent; Relo at parade rest, watching impassively as she was tortured in the bowels of Europa military station.

It wasn’t his fault, she reminded herself. He couldn’t help it. It was the Grey Man, not the real Johnathan Relo. 

Even if it hadn’t been, she wasn’t sure she could ever want him dead.

Michael’s voice scoffed at her, but she ignored it. Steeling herself for the worst, Jorry stepped forward and opened the door. She spotted Seach straight away, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed and a frown aimed at the center of the lab. His jacket was off, and the clinical lights seemed to bounce off his taps, winking at her as she made her way to his side.

His hair had grown over the last year, no longer making little blonde spikes over his head. Now it was drifting over his forehead, curling around his ears, and for a heartbeat she thought about how it would feel against her skin.

It was soft, she knew, unlike the bristle of his three-day old beard.

She needed to tease him about that until he shaved it off.

Glancing at the silver disc embedded above his elbow, she thought about reminding him that they needed to stay hidden. But the lab was private, and Doctor Reed already knew who they were.

Still, Jorry checked to make certain the door had sealed behind her before focusing on the center of the room.

How bad is it? she asked and held her breath.

Doctor Reed’s frame was silhouetted by green holograms. His back was to her, giving a full view of the bald patch in his dark hair, and he hummed something in response. The holographic images were clearly of Johnny’s head and she flinched as the image zoomed closer.

At the base of Johnny’s skull was an ominous hole, the spot that had once housed the so-called final tap. It ran deep enough that she shuddered and wondered for the zillionth time if killing him would have been more merciful. 

Well it isn’t good, Reed said with a sigh. There are still fragments of the computer chip in there. His body is trying to heal itself, but the grapheme is hindering the process.

Is there any way to get the fragments out? Seach asked.

Yes, but it’s going to take some time. The whole process is dangerous. I could damage his brain further if I bump the scope wrong.

Then don’t bump the scope, Seach said and Jorry glanced at his face.

His jaw flexed, a clear sign he was battling his temper. His amber eyes narrowed at the doctor and she got the feeling he didn’t like Reed very much. Which, if she was honest with herself, she agreed about. But they were deserters and fugitives and their choices were limited. 

You are a neural surgeon, right? Seach said. We paid a shit-ton of money just to find you, so you’d better have steady hands.

Reed turned away from the hologram to scowl at them. His flat, round face pinched with indignation and Jorry sighed. She wasn’t the only one with people skill problems today.

Yes, of course I’m a neural surgeon.

Then earn your pay, Doc. Fix him up.

Jorry focused past the holographic images. Johnathan Relo lay prone on a table in the center of the room, still clothed in the uniform of a Grey Man, his face lax and unresponsive. The uniform itself seemed to blend with the gunmetal grey clinic table, making Relo’s pale face and black hair stand out. There were scorch marks on his shoulder and the splatter of blood across his chest from when he’d fought Seach.

Clenching her fists, she stared at the steady rise and fall of Relo’s chest and wondered what bastard in the Consulate designed those uniforms. They were decidedly appropriate; a blank, horrible grey without personality or real color.

Guilt ate at her.

They should have gone back for him the moment he’d sent the message to run. They could have gotten him out, bashed through every soldier the Consulate thrust in their way and be damned the consequences. A lot of people would have died but maybe then they wouldn’t be standing here, haggling with a second-rate doctor on a second-rate planet with the entire Consulate hunting them.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and ignored the sudden sense that Michael was sneering at her.

Go away, Michael, she thought again.

But she knew he wouldn’t, he was enjoying her misery too much to leave.

Even if I manage to get all the pieces out, I can’t guarantee that he’ll wake up, Reed said. He could be stuck like this until he dies of old age.

The trouble is that no one knows how long you’ll live, Reed continued. Your taps keep regenerating you, keeping you healthy and slowing the aging process. It could be centuries before he expires.

Thank you, Doctor, for that stunning way of calling us freaks, Seach said, his voice clipped.

Well it’s true, Reed said. The Consulate got more than they bargained for with you.

What was she supposed to do with a comatose man? She couldn’t leave him here. As secure as Mars was, the Consulate was not going to rest until they’d all been found. He’d be a sitting duck.

A comatose duck.

Jorry opened her eyes and stared at Relo. No, she couldn’t leave him here. That left her with only one option. Patch him up. Then transfer him back to my ship, she said.

You’re taking him with you? Reed asked.

Can’t leave him here, it’s too dangerous for everybody. The safest place for him is on Zephyr.

Doctor Reed made a noise in the back of his throat and glanced at his patient. His fingers beat a nervous rhythm into his thigh and Jorry had to quell the impulse to tape his hand down. Something about the way he looked at Relo made her uncomfortable. He may be the best neural surgeon this side of Gliese but there were other motivations going on here and she could feel it, she just wasn’t certain what Reed might be after.

If he demanded that Relo be kept here, at the Martian Science Academy, she could assume the man wanted to experiment on a Tapped soldier. There weren’t too many of them outside the Consulate’s employ and the Religious Freedom Society, or R.F.S. as they liked to call themselves, would want to know how the taps running through their bodies worked.

This plan was looking worse by the minute.

I’d have to inspect your medical unit, Reed said after a moment. I need to make sure it’s equipped for the patient.

Jorry met Seach’s gaze. He nodded, letting her know he sensed the danger too, and she turned back to Reed.

Relo survived in his current state for eighteen weeks on Zephyr. She’s equipped, Jorry said.

That was short term. If he’s going to be brain-dead for years you need special equipment.

Make a list, Seach said, pushing away from the wall. He straightened to his full height and Jorry watched as the doctor shrunk back.

You paid a lot of money to find me, Reed stammered, regaining some of his courage. It would behoove you to let me do my job properly.

Your job begins and ends with Johnny’s head, Jorry said. It may have escaped your attention, but we are Tapped soldiers and we know a thing or two about what we need to survive. I assure you, the medical station on my ship is fully equipped for him.

Reed frowned at her, his pinched face contorting with indecision. Jorry held his gaze, all her instincts screaming that she was right about this man. He wanted something more from them, and she’d be damned if she let him have it.

You have four hours, Doctor, she said. And then we’re taking him to Zephyr.

Four hours! I can’t perform this procedure in four hours!

Jorry stepped closer to him, felt Seach move with her and knew he was at her back, silently supporting her. Fear flashed in Reed’s dark eyes as she squared against him. There were no other exits to this lab, and they all knew it.

Listen to me very carefully, she said. "I’m not an idiot. I know what sort of an opportunity this is for you. So, I’m going to be gracious and allow you to record your four-hour procedure. But when it’s over we will be taking him with us. Do I make myself clear?"

Reed’s face turned a deep shade of pink, all his indignation evaporating with the promise of a record.

Scientists, she thought with a scowl and waited for him to nod at her. 

Good, she said, wanting to break his teeth so badly she had to clench her fists. But they still needed him, so punching him in the face was unwise.

She didn’t think he would fully understand the reason for the assault anyway. Men like Reed thrived on their studies, she’d seen it before. It wouldn’t occur to him that he was treating Relo like a subject rather than a person.

Seach nodded over at Relo and said; The clock’s ticking, Doctor. You’d best get to work.

Straightening, Jorry moved back to the wall, Seach trailing her. They both leaned against the cool metal and watched as Reed composed himself. After a flustered moment the Doctor moved away from the holograms and deeper into the lab, preparing for his surgery.

Unbelievable, Seach muttered.

What? Jorry asked, keeping her voice low so that Reed couldn’t hear them.

I honestly thought we’d left all the jerks behind in Consulate space.

People are people no matter what sector of space you happen to be in, she said.

They watched as Doctor Reed washed and prepared for the procedure. Robotic limbs and tools hung from the ceiling around Johnny’s table, looking cold and lifeless in their moorings. The computer and its subsequent robotic limbs would do the hands-on work to fix Relo, but the Doctor had to be there to instruct them, or if anything went wrong.

She sincerely hoped nothing went wrong.

You really going to let him record this? Seach asked.

I said I would.

Yeah but Jo, what if he tries tapping somebody? He whispered. There’s a reason the Consulate stopped performing the surgery.

I don’t see much of a choice right now. She closed her eyes and sighed. We can’t leave Relo the way he is and there isn’t anyone else we can go to for help.

If she’d thought about it, she would have brought one of her hacking devices and erased everything from the lab before they left. That would solve the problem of Reed, and likely burn all bridges they had with the R.F.S. in the process.

Not that they had much of a bridge with the R.F.S. as it was, but God only knew what trouble would find them next and Jorry didn’t want to be stuck friendless in an unfriendly universe.

She prayed Reed was wise enough not to try tapping people.

It’s still a bad idea, Jo.

Reed was scrubbed down and setting into his work. His robotic assistants hummed to life, gyrating on their pivot points overhead as he instructed the surgery to begin.

Jorry took a deep breath and watched. All we’ve got are bad ideas these days.

Chapter Two

Seach took hold of the hovering gurney and waved Doctor Reed off, who was looking peeved but Seach couldn’t be bothered to care. After four long hours cooped up in the lab Seach was happy to be rid of the pompous, balding man. Groping for a word that described the Doctor best, he angled the gurney toward Zephyr, glancing down once to make sure Relo’s straps were secure and his friend wasn’t going to slide off. 

I must insist on reviewing your facilities, Reed said.

Smarmy, Seach thought; that’s the word for him, smarmy.

Of course, you do, Seach said without looking back.

Guiding the gurney up the loading plank, he listened to Reed