The Icarus operative - Prologue. Prologue

A few years ago in Covenant space

The room was almost empty, except for a large oval-shaped metal table surrounded by at least six tubular metal chairs. On one of the white walls, the one to the left of the room, there was a one way mirror through which another room could be observed. The light was dim and artificial, giving the room a cold hospital-like atmosphere. It was not strange the Luna Facilities had that sort of ambience, though. In fact, most shadow facilities had a similar environment.

There were two men standing next to each other. One of them was taller and pailer than the other -Operative Christian Dekker.

Both Dekker and Mankur were looking through the one way mirror at the youngster on the other side. He was inside a similar white room with almost no furniture but a small table with all sorts of gadgets on top, and a small chair, where the youngster had been sitting for the past half hour or so. He seemed to be keeping himself busy with disassembling and putting back together whatever items were placed in front of him.The kid seemed really gifted with craftsmanship.

Of every mission he’d ever been sent on by Mother Shadow, this was probably the strangest, because he only hadto report on the kid’s progress. For a brief instant, he couldn’t help but remember his own son Kir’la, whom he had lost only five years before. Kir’la had been only six years old when he tragically died on board a transport ship, coming back from a vacation with his mother, Merna. Christian had divorced Merna upon their son’s fourth nameday. Things were never completely cleared out, but the cause of the accident on the Transport ship had been bestowed upon a radical guerrilla group from Halan II.

Years had passed, five years now, but Christian had never been able to get over his son’s death. Every step of the way, the boy’s ghost would chase him and he would find himself thinking of his lost kid once again. After the divorce and then Kir’la’s death, taking on dangerous assignments from Mother Shadow had kept him so occupied with his job, he had very little time to think back on his life.

Today, however, looking at the kid on the other side of the mirror stirred so many memories of his lost son it shook Dekker. The briefing had supplied the boy’s name- Icarus- and he would be about eleven standards, the same age his son would have been had he not died in that absurd and tragic incident.

So many memories at the sight of this kid … so many painful memories of happy times with the son he’d loved more than his own life. That had been the most painful, to understand Kir’la would never experience life, would never fall in love, would never see the galaxy. It was useless, Dekker told himself once and again, to think of those things that would never come to be now. But he just couldn’t help it. After all, it was not the natural order of things for a parent to survive a son.

A third man came into the room, breaking Dekker’s train of thought. He was a middle-aged man, balding and wearing some very thick spectacles. His arrival in the observation room interrupted both men’s concentrationon the kid. The light blue robe the man wore, the usual color in medical shadow uniforms, made it obvious for the operatives he was a doctor; more likely the scientist in charge of the project.

He cleared his throat to catch the men’s attention and both Dekker and Mankur turned in his direction. The doctor then bowed towards them and pointed at the youngster who was the center of attention.

“Remarkable, isn’t he?” the doctor asked, forcing the others to remove their attention from the mirror.

“He seems to be so,” Operative Mankur, responded with his low baritone voice, nodding, and smiling at the scientist.

The two shadow operatives then walked towards the doctor.

Both Dekker and Mankur had been briefed on the purpose of the project, though the briefing had been obscure and ambiguous at best.

Not ten years ago, the shadow scientists, some of the most brilliant minds in the explored part of the galaxy, had started a project whose purpose was to engineer shadow operatives for specific missions. But truth was the only thing Mankur and Dekker knew for sure was the purpose of having engineered this kid was for him to get ready to take over a key position in a local government when the time came. Once settled, he would give The Shadows strategic advantage over Covenant ruling. He was to be, if the project was successful, the first of many engineered Icarus operatives.

Operative Dekker turned towards the youngster again and, placing his palms on the mirror, spoke to the scientist.

“Doctor, according to the briefing, this kid is six years old, but if I were to guess, I’d say he’s no younger than twelve. How exactly is that possible?”

Doctor Melithar smiled, showing how proud he was of his accomplishment and that of the team he led. The Icarus project was his lifetime achievement and he was officially the brightest mind in the explored galaxy. All his years of research and all the years devoted to making Icarus a reality, had paid off in the end. He gestured both operatives to sit down and he took a third chair around the metal table. He fixed his heavy spectacles, though they had been correctly situated in the first place, and then produced a pair of padnics from his robe, handing one to each of the men.

“It’s all genetics,” he started, “His RNA sequences were reprogrammed so he would skip some years in the growth process and be ready for when the time comes. At specific points in his growth process, these sequences are activated, so to speak, in order for his organism to skip years of his life and move on to a specific age stage.”

“But,” Operative Dekker said, “how can we be sure he’ll be ready in every single aspect and not only in the outer shell?”

The Doctor smiled as if he was talking to a pair of children who wouldn’t understand any of the things he said.

“I think I could give you a long and boring technical explanation on the specifics of how Icarus’ DNA and RNA have been resequenced, or how he was engineered, but it might be as shady as the briefing in your padnics. Maybe, it would be a better idea if you saw for yourselves.”

Christian Dekker and Tar’ghma Mankur stood from their respective chairs and followed the Head Scientist through the door, which slid open with a pneumatic hiss as they approached it. They came out in a blue-gray aisle with many other doors scattered around as far as the eye could see.

They entered the other half of the observation suite, where the boy had been working on all sorts of gadgets. The child seemingly ignored them and carried on with what he was doing.

“Icarus,” called Doctor Melithar noticing Icarus’s disregard for their presence, “These gentlemen are here to visit you.”

The boy turned and looked at his visitors, his eyes scanning the men from top to bottom. His sight took in the men’s hairdos, their clothing, and their expressions, as if he were reading an open book.

The first, Operative Christian Dekker, was a man easy on the eye, handsome and young looking for a man who must have been in his forty something standards, judging by his appearance. His dark brown straight hair was slicked back. The face was a combination of manly and beautiful, with thick dark eyebrows and lashes, and blue eyes, an aquiline nose and a rather strong jaw. His lips were thin and pink, which made them a remarkable feature in his otherwise masculine features. He was wearing the Navy blue tight suit, so characteristic of Shadow Operatives. Underneath the navy-blue leather of his tight trenchcoat, Dekker’s athletic physique could be made out.

The second man, Operative Tar’ghma Mankur, was much shorter and strongly built, with darker skin and short wavy black hair. He had a blunt nose and a round face, and the typical blue-green shade of a clean shaven beard. His eyes were almond-shaped and a darker shade of hazel, not an uncommon trait in Rivulan males. He was also wearing the navy-blue uniform and leather trenchcoat. Even though he was shorter, he was at all sights as athletic as was Dekker, and definitely much younger.

“Ah, Shadows,” he said. And having said so, he paid no more attention to the operatives and went back to the gadget he was putting together at the moment.

Christian Dekker walked from his spot and looked at Icarus.

“Clever, huh?”

Icarus disregarded the comment and continued to work on the gadget until he was done. Mankur approached Icarus and kneeled in front of him.

“What is it you’re putting together back there, boy?” he asked.

“Some gadget.”

“It seems to me like a little more than just some gadget ….”

“You’re right,” Icarus said, “It’s a third generation livitor; an aluminum-alloy lifesign reading device which uses a dilithium-based serum as a power source. Livitors are used by doctors in monitoring a patient’s vitals during any given surgical procedure.”

“Then why wouldn’t you say so in the first place?” asked Mankur with a look of puzzlement in his expression.

“Because I didn’t think you’d understand,” Icarus said, not rudely but matter-of-factly, his facial features unchanged, “It is a known fact Shadow operatives are not particularly versed in any scientific field of study.”

Dekker’s expression was one of surprise.He thought the boy was extremely forthcoming for someone who was supposed to be a six-year older.

“Then why don’t you tell us about something we might understand,” Mankur said.

Without a change in his expression, Icarus turned to face both Mankur and Dekker and said, “Well, that certainly makes for a difficult task.”

“Icarus,” Doctor Melithar said, “why don’t you show our guests how versed you are in diplomacy … or history?”

“Yeah,” Mankur said with an acid tone, “that is something we commoners might be able to understand.”

Dekker elbowed Mankur, and Icarus looked at him askance, as if he was unable to grasp the basics of sarcasm, but certainly noticing Mankur’s discomfort.

“Don’t mind my partner here,” said Dekker and smiled at the kid, “go on and tell us some history … say … Covenant history ….”

Icarus stood up from his place, walked towards one of the walls and tapped it, turning the whole wall into a holoscreen. Almost instantly, a hologram of Earth appeared in front of them.

“It all started on the brink of the twenty-third century, when Earthlings perfected spaceships in such a way they finally attained space travel … for real. For the first time in their history, they were able to venture into space, making the twentieth century moon landings look like child’s play. What had been the dream of countless generations of Humans then became a reality.”

“And a new era in the history of human kind was born. Earth astronauts started traveling, first through their solar system and then, the galaxy itself. As they did so, they discovered a truth that had long been theorized, time and again through human history. They were not alone in the universe, a fact that would change forever the light in which they had seen life before.

“As the twenty-third century moved forward and humans explored the galaxy, they ran across a wide spectrum of different alien species. First, most likely because of their geographic proximitycame the Rivulan, so remarkably alike with earthlings it was virtually impossible to physically tell them apart. Then the Erjnak, a race whose anatomy and physiology was like nothing ever seen by the human eye, and the only non-anthropomorphic race ever encountered.

“And then came the Danaaren, the amphibian light blue-skinned humanoid species who came from the Gamma Cygni Nebula, officially called by its inhabitants the Danaar Systems I and II. The Danaaren were a peaceful race in essence and fell immediately in love with Earth and its inhabitants. Unofficially, the Danareen became friends and tutors to humans and helped them in the development of their space career.

“It was Danaaren technology which made it possible to extend space travel, even beyond humans’ wildest dreams, in the first place. Launchhole technology, Danaaren in origin, changed the course of human space travel, for it allowed Humans to jump to any other place within the Galaxy.”

“Icarus,” Doctor Melithar interrupted, “could you explain Launchhole technology to our guests?”

“Really?” Icarus asked.

“Yes,” Melithar replied, “make sure to keep the explanation simple and brief.”

Icarus nodded and continued.

“The principle involved in Launchhole technology is rather simple: it is possible to jump from one spot to another in the Universe so long as the Origin hole connects with an Exit hole. Launchhole technology was developed by the Danaaren after long decades of study.”

“It is basically conducted through artificial baryon portals. Each portal is in essence a baryon generator which generates a flood of baryons whose concentration opens a traversable wormhole in space. Both the Launchhole and the Exithole use the same baryon frequency to make the tunnel a possible event to occur.Ships traveling through a Launchhole technically cross from A to B without time passing. The ship, however, does travel through baryon space, which is in essence, the wormhole.”

“Thank you, Icarus,” Melithar said.

“Would you like me to elaborate on baryon generators, doctor?” Icarus asked the doctor, his face still serious and unchanged.

“No, Icarus, please carry on with your history lesson.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Icarus said, and then continued with his lecture, “Under the close supervision of the Danaaren, Humans began the construction of their first Launchhole in orbit around their planet. It shared the baryon frequency with the Launchhole in orbit around the Danaaren Home world. Halfway through the twenty-third century, Launchholes in Human Space became a reality.

“By the end of the twenty-third century, in less than one hundred years, the governments of Earth had organized into one single ruling entity: The Human Council, which was originally put together with representatives of what had been the Earth´s countries and were now to become Earth Districts.

“As other races became known and came to know humans, earthlings decided they needed a name which could identify their planet beyond the plain term “Earth”, for every single species call their planet that in their native tongue. The term Utopia was chosen by Stephanne Derriot, the leader of the first Human Council, but did not immediately stick. In time, the name Earth became less and less popular until it was finally replaced by the name Utopia, the Greek term which finally would come to identify humans in the eyes of the alien races which populated the Milky Way and the known space beyond. Would you like me to elaborate on Stephanne Derriot?”

“No, Icarus, thank you,” Dekker said smiling at the kid.

“Very well. The Human Council then became The Utopian Council; their solar system was officially declared and called The Utopian System, and a good portion of space outside of it was called Utopian Space. As it could have been expected, if one read human history, Utopia started expanding beyond its boundaries, and the first Utopian Colonies were established in Mars and Io, within our own solar system. Five Utopian Launchholes were fully operational by the beginning of the twenty-fourth century throughout the System.

“Halan II and its moons in the Rivulak System –named Eden and Genesis by the Utopian Council-, were given to Utopians by the Rivulan in a gesture of friendship; a gesture which caused both the Utopian Council and the Rivulan Empire to merge into a bilateral council. And only five years later, the Bilateral Council merged with the Danaaren Republic. The Rivulan, the Danareen and the Utopian became one single power within the Galaxy, giving birth to what would come to be known, in our times, as The Covenant.

“During the twenty-fifth century, The Covenant signed all sorts of political and trade treaties with virtually every other race the Covenant races had encountered through the exploration of the Galaxy. It was also during the first Covenant century that war, disease and poverty were finally eradicated.”

“Through the second half of the twenty-fifth century rumors of corruption at every level of The Covenant became more and more commonplace, until it became obvious that The Covenant’s Military Fleet was no longer of any help. The Utopian, the Rivulan and the Danaaren debated for months on the best way to rid The Covenant of its corrupt officers, and eventually came up with what they thought would be the only effective solution: an elite force to operate covertly with the sole purpose of eliminating the seeds of evil and corruption from within; the Covenant called these operatives Shadows.”

Both Dekker and Mankur smiled at each other as Icarus mentioned their agency, but did not care to interrupt the lecture.

“The Shadows,” Icarus carried on, “were officially born in the Utopian Year 2575 also referred to as Covenant Year 153. Trained in all sorts of combat styles, hostage negotiation, criminal profiling and war strategy, those chosen and trained as Shadows started officially operating ten years after the covert branch had been born, in the Covenant Year 163. Their modus operandi was simple: an undercover Shadow operative was placed under a particular leader suspected of criminal activities. Such leader would be brought down by the operative before he even realized he’d been under surveillance by a member of his own office.

“Little by little, as The Covenant Army’s corrupt officials were removed, trialed and imprisoned, Shadows took over their positions and places throughout the government. From that moment on, The Covenant ruled in peace and prosperity for more than one hundred years.

“But, as history has proven, systems are rarely stable, and as Covenant year 274 started, rumors of civil unrest started rising throughout Covenant’s Space. The Shadows were once again in charge of bringing order to chaos. Key people in key positions were once again brought down and replaced by Shadow operatives. The tables turned favoring The Covenant once again.”

“I think that’s far enough,” Dekker said interrupting Icarus.

Mankur looked at Doctor Melithar who nodded at Icarus, and the kid tapped the wall again, turning the holoscreen off.

“That was certainly impressive,” Dekker told Icarus, “you truly are versed in history.”

“Thank you,” Icarus said, “Doctor?”

“Ah, yes,” Melithar said, “Gentlemen, please, if you’ll follow me…”

Dekker and Mankur understood the show was over, and exited the room following Doctor Melithar and leaving Icarus to himself. Doctor Melithar conducted them back to the observation room. Both Mankur and Dekker sat down and so did the scientist.

“So,” Melithar began, “I trust your report to Mother Shadow will be favorable?”

Mankur smiled and looked at Dekker, whose blue eyes, unblinking, looked at Doctor Melithar as he spoke.

“It most certainly will be. The kid is nothing but amazing…I take it Mother Shadow will be most definitely delighted to hear about it.”

“Then,” Melithar said as he stood up from the chair, “I see no reason to detain you any further. Gentlemen…”

“Doctor,” Dekker said as they rose from their chairs, “I do have a question to ask.”

“Go ahead, operative,” Melithar conceded.

“When the time comes for him to take the mission for which he’s been, say, assigned…won’t he give out his true nature? I mean, he hardly understands the basics of social interaction.”

“Oh, that!” Melithar said and smiled, “When the time comes, operative, Icarus will be programmed to perform whatever is expected of him.”

“What does that mean, exactly, Doctor?”

“To put it in plain words, operative: when Icarus is requested on the field, our oniric technicians will ‘upload’, so to speak, a full memory bank within Icarus’s mind. Therefore, he will be ready, because, in his mind, he will be who he will be programmed to be.”

“So, you’d basically erase who he is to reprogram him as someone else?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. However,” Melithar said, “We cannot talk about erasing who he is, because right now he is nobody. He’s pretty much a blankslate with only training programming.”

“I see,” said Dekker and turned to the window, as if telling the doctor he didn’t care to hear anything else. It was then when he saw Icarus’ neck and remembered he’d seen the funny mark in there and had thought about asking the doctor as they first came into the room, but he had somehow forgotten.

“Doctor?” he said.

“Yes, operative?” responded de doctor.

“What’s that marking on Icarus’ neck?”

“Oh, that!” the doctor said, “it is a mark left by one of the tubes connected to his brain while in his gestation period, a tube that feeds him inside the tank; an artificial umbilical cord, if you will. Here we’ve come to call it The Icarus Mark. Why is it you ask, operative?”

“Curious, I guess,” Dekker said, “I thought it was too perfectly circular to be a birthmark.”

“If there are no further questions…” The doctor looked at both operatives becoming obviously impatient.

“None, doctor,” Dekker said, “Thank you very much for your attentions.”

He looked back at Icarus, who seemed absorbed in his disassembling of another new gadget, and sighed. It didn’t feel right; this didn’t feel right.

He knew his agency was struggling against the Covenant to bring it to balance once again, as it had been when the Covenant had first been founded. But to use a boy like this, to strip him from his basic rights as a human being, whether he was engineered or not, was just wrong. And he would have to talk to Mother Shadow about it.

Mankur looked back at Dekker as he followed the scientist on his way out of the room. Dekker walked behind them but he felt the urge to look back one more time. As he did so, he saw Icarus standing in front of the one way mirror and looking in his direction. He gathered Icarus knew exactly where he was standing and looked at the kid askance, just to realize his mouth was forming two words: help me.

He didn’t know it then, but those events would very soon be erased from his memory. He would not remember Icarus. He would not remember what was being done here.