- Home
- Drew Avera
Rise of the Syndicate
Rise of the Syndicate Read online
Rise of the Syndicate
Drew Avera
Copyright © 2018 by Drew Avera
www.drewavera.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
For the readers
Contents
Prologue
1. Halem
2. Tetrim
3. Castor
4. Halem
5. Castor
6. Halem
7. Tetrim
8. Castor
9. Halem
10. Tetrim
11. Castor
12. Halem
13. Tetrim
14. Castor
15. Halem
16. Tetrim
17. Castor
18. Halem
19. Tetrim
20. Castor
21. Halem
22. Tetrim
23. Castor
24. Halem
25. Tetrim
26. Castor
27. Halem
28. Tetrim
29. Halem
30. Tetrim
31. Castor
32. Halem
33. Tetrim
34. Halem
35. Tetrim
36. Halem
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Join My Newsletter
Acknowledgments
About Drew Avera
Also by Drew Avera
Prologue
Five-hundred-years after humanity escaped Earth for Mars on massive transport ships, the Archean colony has prospered under the watchful eye of the World Council. One-part corporate entity, another part governing power, the World Council has led humanity from the brink of extinction, to a viable society with the ambition of expanding its reach across the Martian terrain. The only thing standing in the way was the sole reliance on the dome technology used to facilitate a breathable atmosphere.
But with a new technology on the horizon, which would allow humanity to escape the dome just like when mankind escaped the caves millions of years ago, not everyone was on board. With profit margins on the line, and a legacy to uphold, some would do anything to ensure the future comes to fruition in their image.
Some would even kill.
1
Halem
"I do not want you in the same room with that man," I ordered my wife, knowing full well she had no real choice in the matter. Still, the bitterness in my voice caused her to question her loyalty to her position within the World Council. I could read the response on her face even before she answered.
"You know I must go. The Council has been called and I face barring if I am absent without just cause. That is the way things are, suspicions or not," she bit back the tail end of her sentence letting me know she agreed with my position. It was just a matter of politics why she was committed to attend. Be that as it may, I still did not understand how the world's most powerful people could be subjected to such stringent rules. It was almost as if they were being kept in check by some unseen power lording over them behind some veil.
This was not the first time I suspected something was afoot when an "emergency vote" was called into session. Disguising it as a gala only served to make my suspicions grow deeper. I bit my tongue as to what I really thought, knowing this conversation was heading to our attendance regardless of any resistance on my part. Besides, nothing ever came from those suspicious thoughts except more heartache and stress on my part.
Marada said it herself on many occasions; my worrying only brought me down.
We held esteem within the community on Mars. One would think we had our grandfathers to thank for paving the way for our success, but it didn't come without a high cost to our family, or lack thereof. Marada and I had spent the last decade together, the arranged marriage a tool to generate a legacy for the families we left behind. The price of power came with a string of goodbyes to our past. The echoes of forgotten tomorrows still rang dimly in my heart and there was nothing I could do about it except comply with the law and live another day.
It was difficult to consider the consequences of rebutting my station, giving up what we gained, or how it might affect Marada's political career.
The irony of powerless people in the highest seats of government was not lost on me. If I was an outsider, I might have laughed at it. But there was no smiling as the invisible noose tightened around our necks, forcing us into submission. Our lives hardly felt like our own.
"Besides," she said, drawing my attention back to her. "The Council still needs to secure the votes to move forward with the artificial atmosphere project. I'm afraid that despite my campaigning against it, that they will get those votes. I have my reservations about the technology. What if it fails and there is nothing to protect us? I honestly don't want the future of our society to be confined to the dome, but it has served us well for more than five centuries."
"Vote against it and move on," I said. "There's no reason to relent due to the pressure coming from the other side."
"Don't think the thought hasn't crossed my mind. I just know if there is a future on this planet, then we will lay the foundation for it tonight. I see the writing on the wall regardless of my suspicions that someone on the Council is getting paid to push this hard. Perhaps Tetrim's involvement is just a means to an end, and not something sinister. At least I hope not."
"He is a snake and a fiend. I do not trust him," I spat the words like an afterthought as I looked at myself in the mirror; knotting the tie I wore with my uniform.
Being a policeman in the Martian capital came with its own stressors, but at least I was able to wear a suit befitting my lineage. My father and my grandfather wore this uniform. It was the only tie I had to them now. The dark colors contrasted against the whitening of my hair; premature aging taking its own toll on my body, but Marada seemed to like the distinguished look of it.
At least I made her look younger, she would tease with a laugh.
Marada looked at me with a coy smile, disarming me from my anger with her gorgeous gaze. "You've only told me this for the last nine years, but you no longer need to try and sell me on that fact. Besides, I imagine Tetrim has more skeletons in his closet than either of us are truly aware of," she replied as she placed her wedding band on her finger; the alloys of it were cast from earthen metal, passed down at least two centuries on my mother's side of the family.
It was our "something old" to carry on the matrimonial tradition of years gone by. A fitting passing as Marada and I were forced to say goodbye to our families for the last time. Looking back, it felt much longer than a mere decade ago when we were wed. But a lot had changed during that time and the tides were churning harder now as more was being done to build this new world with a foundation of new ideas.
I inhaled deeply, leaning to get a better image of my wife in the mirror's reflection. She still kept my attention more than any woman ever dared and for that, I was truly thankful. To say the blessings of this life tended to keep me up at night was an understatement. Sometimes, when I was alone, I could imagine the feeling of her skin cupped against my hands, the smell of her hair as it tickled my nose as we lay together at night. I hated those nights alone, but those thoughts were pleasant company.
She said something that resonated with me. "Imagine if someone discovered those skeletons," I said, half-under my breath, but still audible enough for her to hear me from across the room. She looked up but said nothing. "I mean, I am a policeman after all." The statement was more warning than c
oy acknowledgment. Unfortunately, my audience was not easily swayed.
Marada moved closer to me, the smell of lavender lifting from her skin as the air rushed over her. "And what would you do if you found those skeletons, Halem? Surely you don't think you can rise above your station and accuse a member of the World Council? Tetrim may be a snake, but he is a well-hidden and deadly one. Perhaps it is best to keep our private allusions inside our bedroom," she suggested. It was evident that she was afraid of him even if she did not want to admit it. That was perfectly fine; my intentions were not to make a fuss publicly. Truth be known, secrets worked best as silent killers.
I wanted to tell her that if I dug anything up, then she was in a position to voice those accusations. But I knew what she would say. She didn't want to stir the pot any more than it already was. The Council tended to hold grudges.
I shrugged my shoulders as if to move on from the conversation, but her first questions still lingered in my mind even after the discussion was closed. Whispered words behind my back all these years might have made me paranoid when it came to Tetrim and his bold deviance, but paranoia was a confidant when it came to judging your enemies. What would I do if I found Tetrim's secrets? To hell with exposing him; I would do the world a favor and remove him from office.
Permanently.
"You're right. I'm sorry I even mentioned it."
"Don't be sorry," she replied, setting an earring into place as she gazed up at me. "Be cautious. You speak out of turn before the wrong person and there will be nothing I can do to make the backlash go away. We could lose everything."
She was right. We were fortunate to marry at a time that the restrictions on people in office and public servants were not restricted. A mere eight months later and our lives would have been out of our control. Arranged marriage or not. "I'll keep quiet. Just like I always do." I lowered my lips to her forehead and kissed her lightly.
"You better. I don't need another roadblock into passing future bills all because you wanted to act out. It's bad enough women are minorities in office. Try being the woman with an unruly husband."
It was hard to tell if she was joking, so I fought back a smirk as I placed the silver necklace around her neck I purchased on our anniversary. Marada spun on her heels, her dress billowing out around her ankles. "I'm not that unruly," I said, unable to keep it in.
She giggled. "No, I suppose you aren't, but first impressions are hard to overcome. You know that more than most."
My mind immediately thought back to our first formal outing after she was sworn into the World Council. To say I overdid it with the alcohol would have been a harsh understatement. I was not the only one, but of course, a man of my station hardly deserved to enter the room according to many of the Council's way of thinking.
I was beneath them, and in many ways, I was a blemish on my wife in their eyes. The standards for office shifted quickly, and despite the old blood still involved, the collective mindset leaned heavily towards the new ideas. It was only a matter of time before the balance completely shifted and all members of the Council would be kept from having a family. All because some thought it created a weakness by which to manipulate your political enemies.
Those who thought that way were the darkest kind of evil in my opinion.
"Are you ready?" I asked.
"Yeah, let's get this over with," she said with a sigh.
My thoughts exactly.
"I just have one more thing," I said, letting my voice fall as I walked towards the nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling my sidearm out and placing it in the holster under my arm.
"You know weapons aren't allowed."
"An unarmed policeman is a useless policeman," I replied, adjusting my jacket to further conceal it.
Her lips curled, just short of smiling. "You're nothing if not consistent," she chided.
"You wouldn't want it any other way," I replied, taking her hand in mine as I escorted her from the room and towards what I expected to be the longest night of our lives.
2
Tetrim
"Marada is up to something. I know it," I said as I poured another glass of scotch and took a seat in the leather-bound chair across from Pontiff Cherum. He sat in a stately manner, his perfectly groomed beard made him appear both distinguished and intimidating. "Why else would she insist on this gala including guests? Her plus one will be Halem." I spat his name out with disgust.
"You have no proof they are up to anything," he answered matter-of-factly. He had a habit of turning the ring on his middle finger when he spoke, perhaps something to hide his nervousness; his lies. I saw through the charade, but I felt he was making a point I was not ready to accept. I could hardly go to the World Council with my suspicions, and despite my long friendship with Cherum, it was bad form to expect him to intercede on my behalf to make the gala for Council only. Still, I could not let go of the gnawing sensation I felt in my gut.
I felt exposed.
"Don't I?" I replied. "She is married to a policeman, one very suspicious of me at that. Did I ever tell you of the time he accosted me after a night of hard drinking?" I could tell by the look in his eye he thought I was grasping at straws. He might be right, but at some point, I had to catch hold of something.
Cherum scoffed, "And who was hitting the drink harder that night my friend?"
His words meant to sway me in his favor, but they were nothing more than noise. I heard the argument before. "You know I do not drink except in social situations. I learned from the mistakes of my father. At least give me that."
He continued turning the ring, the bright lights of the room striking it, so it seemed to glow in its magnificent reflection. He frowned a moment before speaking. "Yet you admit to drinking in such situations?" His eyes bore into mine, not accusingly, but leading me nonetheless. I knew exactly where he was going with it.
I cleared my throat and lifted my glass in response. "Did you know Jesus turned water to wine?"
Pontiff Cherub nodded, "I've read those old stories, not that I put too much stock into mythology."
I licked my teeth to wash my initial thoughts out of my mouth before speaking too harshly. "Some look at history as truth, not mythology. In either case, I understand your point. Now, let me continue. If a man of God, or God for that matter, would partake in drink then why should I be condemned for such things?" The words fell from my lips as if by fate. Who were others to judge me?
"Are you God, Tetrim?"
I lowered my glass, its contents nothing more than a cube of ice. "What is a god?" I asked, shrugging before pointing towards the window, the gleam of the dome above us appearing like a watery sky. Outside the dome, the sandstorm raged, threatening to suspend our expansion efforts for the next month. The new city of Clenist should have been opened to the public more than three years ago, but it was still mostly uninhabitable except for the underground portions of the city. "Is it not a being to which others look to for guidance and protection? Mars would die without me, so isn't that god-like?"
Pontiff Cherum drummed his stumpy fingers against the hardwood armrest of his chair, the tapping of consistent quarter-notes at a moderate tempo was more than a little distracting. "Gods create, not maintain. You would do well not to try and overstep boundaries. There are some in the Council who still cling to biases of the old world." he answered.
I nodded my head. "Yes, but according to mythology some gods also destroy. Besides, those biases cannot be represented legally now that we have abolished religious practices. We can't have peace with strife. We must set fire to the old ways of thinking if we are to move forward."
The drumming of his fingers stopped as he peered up at me with cold, blue eyes. "Are you of a mind to destroy?" he asked, his breath held in anticipation. It seemed I was finally getting somewhere with him. It only took my willingness to say anything to find which words would make him squirm.
I shrugged, letting out a sigh. "I only intend to destroy my enemies, Cherum. And as for now the
only one in my sights is called Marada."
He raised his hand and scratched under his chin, trying to pretend he was not afraid of what I was implying. "And exactly what did Marada do to deserve being in your sights? I thought your beef was with her husband."
I nodded, setting the empty glass on the end table next to me and wiped the condensation on my fingers off on the fabric of my pants. Eyeing him directly, I spoke, "You make a good point. It's not what Marada has done. It is what she has not done."
"Being?" he asked with a shaky voice.
"She has not turned to the new ways and divorced her husband. As soon as he acted against me, she should have dissolved her marriage and showed her loyalty to the Council. Her clinging to the past is not going to propel us forward." I said flippantly.
Cherum scoffed. "Jealousy, I take it, if I may be so bold?" his hands gripped the arms of his chair to the point his knuckles grew white. I had never seen him so worked up in all the years of government service. It was as if his position softened him, whereas mine made me hard as stone.
I stifled a laugh. "No, not jealousy," I said, my eyes set on Cherum as my heart beat faster. "Revenge."
3