Echoes of Harmony

Downtown Mornage

Hallow Building

21 November 3296

“Two, four, six, eight, we must capitulate! Two, four, six, eight, we must capitulate!”

Epsilon cringed as she listened to the chanters outside Stariek’s seat of government. The fact they couldn’t come up with anything better irked her. Though, I have to give them credit for at least making it rhyme.

In the hours since the announcement by the Hyperion general, the crowd had grown to nearly ten thousand people. They spread out along Vermilion Boulevard, their bodies pressed tightly together as they held various signs. Each contained the same message, albeit in slightly different ways: give in to the Hyperion demands, whatever they may be.

She smirked as she read them. Fat chance of that happening. At least, not without a little help. Her goals were beyond the simple matter of whether a war broke out. She was given specific instructions she needed to carry out. Failure was, as expected, not an option.

The Hallow Building was the tallest building on Stariek. It stood as a testament to both human hubris and the unrelenting tenacity of man, stretching nearly two kilometers up. The metal of the circular building gleamed with sunlight. Its many glass panels sparkled like the facets on a finely cut diamond. The building went into lockdown with the announcement by Zorn per protocol. She had no need to go in, though.

The assembled crowd was a massive wave of people, their bodies flowing down the boulevard. Armed police on either side of the road kept them confined to the street. Order was being maintained at gunpoint and with the use of heavy duty riot shields arranged in a phalanx. As usual. Sometimes they make it too easy.

Some protesters held up speakers wirelessly connected to their CAMs, allowing their voices to be amplified as they shouted words of encouragement to their peers. Obscenities and other harassment were thrown at the police, who took it as it came. They were simply content—if such a word could be used for their unsmiling faces—making sure there was no violence.

A violence Epsilon sorely yearned for.

Yelling from the crowd at the police swelled in some places, and it was here Epsilon gravitated to. Some of the protesters threw themselves at the hastily erected barriers, bouncing off and receiving a swift kick from the officers on the other side. Others threw cans and other small objects, nothing large or heavy enough to be anything more than a disturbance to the teams in full riot gear.

The spot was perfect. It was just like a powder keg waiting to explode. Anything might set it off.

She pushed her way through the crowd, jostling protesters as much as they did her. Her fist raised in the air in mock solidarity as she took up a slightly better, albeit not rhyming, chant. Her other hand subtly dove into her pocket and fished out a small black device, hardly bigger than a data stick. She pressed the button on it and dropped it to the ground. It bounced a meter away before coming to a stop next to the boot of one of the protesters. Whether it got stepped on didn’t matter; it was durable enough to withstand the punishment.

With the device in place, Epsilon moved quicker through the masses. She needed to get as far away from the device as possible, otherwise she would be swept up in the aftermath. When she was nearly to the next block over, it happened.

The sound of gunfire filled the air as quick pulses of light lit up the vicinity. Yelling from both the police and protesters quickly followed, and, in their wake, the dull roar of the police submachine guns sounded off. Pained screams carried to Epsilon as she watched on. A haze of smoke from the firearm discharges wafted into the air. Bodies fell to the ground. Blood spurted upwards, spraying bystanders. Stampeding people hurried from the epicenter, leaving a circle of dead and wounded as the area cleared. Some tried crawling away, their bodies unable to withstand the pressure from getting up. Others were motionless, their appendages bent at impossible angles where they collapsed or were trampled.

Satisfied, Epsilon smiled and walked between two buildings, heading towards the spaceport. She had a ship to catch.

#

“How many dead?” Hayden asked from his cabin’s conference room as the report came in. His voice was quiet and strained. It was impossible to imagine just a few hours ago he was enjoying the cold weather with his wife, son, and son’s friend.

“Two hundred and thirty five, sir.” Secretary Rivas’ image on his holocomputer screen shifted uncomfortably. “Another seven hundred wounded.”

Almost ten percent of the crowd. A sensation of dread filled Hayden’s stomach and chest. It was completely unnecessary and senseless violence, something he had thought the planet was past after the start of the Praesidium Union.

“How did they cause such heavy casualties so quickly? The report states the shooting only lasted for twenty seconds.”

“The police in that location were armed with RSA-19 submachine guns.” Rivas folded her hands in front of her, which Hayden noticed were shaking slightly. “They’re employed by most riot divisions around the planet, and even most of the galaxy, because of their stopping power. These weapons are capable of firing eight hundred rounds a minute. Multiply that by twenty officers—each of which is spraying into the crowd after hearing gunfire—and add in the fact none of the civilians are wearing armor. You can inflict plenty of damage in a short period of time.”

“Please tell me there was at least a sign of some sort of firearm.” Hayden put his face in his hands, rubbing his temples aggressively. The day seemed to be going from bad to worse. “Anything we can use during an investigation to justify this tragedy.”

Even as he said the words, he knew nothing could justify such a massacre. It would make him feel slightly better—how much, he was not sure—if the police had a reason for opening fire.

“Unfortunately not, sir.” Rivas shook her head. “Every protester dead and wounded was unarmed, save for some small pocket knives and multitools. Not even any of those rounded up unwounded were carrying weapons. The only thing we’ve found is a small device like a data stick, though the insides were slagged. On the outside is just a symbol of what seems to be a black hole, though we haven’t made sense of it yet. Sensors and cameras in the area detected the noise and possible flashes of gunfire before the police started shooting, but no other signs of there having been shots fired.”

“I want an investigation started immediately. Each of the officers involved is to be suspended without pay pending the results of the investigation. ” Hayden slammed his fist into the table, causing the image to shudder. He turned to the other person on the call. “Director Garcia, are you capable of handling that? The fact this happened on Stariek at all, let alone in front of the Hallow Building, is completely unacceptable. We are supposed to be a beacon of hope to the rest of the galaxy, not a cesspool of corruption.”

“Of course, sir,” Garcia said. “I already have analysts reviewing the footage from the CCTV cameras in the area. We have some leads, but nothing is guaranteed yet.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Work faster.” Hayden enunciated both words, his face taking on a scowl. “This is no coincidence. Someone did something to provoke those officers, and I want to know what it was.”

“You have my word, I’ll get to the bottom of it.” Garcia shifted in his seat and rose an eyebrow. “And what do you plan on telling the press?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.” Hayden sighed and rubbed his forehead. A dull ache formed behind his eyes. “Anything but the truth would be against everything I stand for. I need to be the leader I want my son to grow into.”

“For all of our sakes,” Rivas said, her shoulders deflating even as her eyes flashed with anger, “I hope there is a chance for your son to grow into anything.”

Hayden ignored the comment.

“If there’s nothing further, I believe I have a crowd of reporters to address.”

When neither of them said anything, he disconnected the call and put his head in his hands once more. Nothing could have prepared him for this. His planet was on the verge of being taken from him, and the population was beginning to turn against him. No matter where he turned, it seemed only bad news followed.

“What am I going to do, Zayne?” he asked, his voice muffled through his hands.

His friend, who had been standing next to the window, moved forward. The gentle clicking of his heels echoed in the now quiet room. They stopped as a hand landed on his shoulder.

“I think if you want to avoid more bloodshed, you need to give in to the Hyperion demands.” Zayne kept his voice quiet and level.

“And lose generations of work that my family has done to make this into the planet it is today?” Hayden brushed the hand away. He pushed his chair from the desk and stood, looking Zayne in the eyes. Stressing each word, he said, “Over my dead body.”

“The way this is going, it just may be!” Zayne rose his voice until he yelled. “How long before the civilians have had enough? How long until they decide to take matters into their own hands? You said it yourself: you want to be someone your son can grow into. You know what the Hyperions do to dissenters. The only thing Skylar will grow into is a body bag.”

Hayden couldn’t stop himself. A single thought ran through his head: How dare you? His fist came around in a wildly telegraphed haymaker. Zayne made no attempt to dodge or block as it connected with his jaw. He staggered with the impact, nearly falling before catching himself on the corner of Hayden’s desk. A line of blood ran down his chin from a cut on his lip. He wiped it away and stood as more oozed out. A portion of his cheek already swelled where it was smashed between his teeth and Hayden’s fist.

As a tense silence stretched between the two of them, Hayden couldn’t help but feel sorry. The two of them had been friends since childhood. No matter their differences, they always looked out for each other. But talking about his son being killed… That was a step too far.

“Feel better?” he asked. His voice was quiet now, barely louder than Hayden’s heavy breathing. “Because that doesn’t change the facts of the situation. If we go right into this the way you want us to, people are going to die.”

“People have already died. They die every day.” Hayden waved Zayne’s comment away as if it were an annoying fly. “I need to do what I can to keep the planet as prosperous as it was. We have a chance to save the planet, to stop Hyperia from taking over. We must take it.”

“Very well, sir.” Zayne straightened his shoulders and stood at attention. “Even if I disagree, I will carry out your orders.”

“Good. Now, I have some reporters to answer to in the press room.”

Before Zayne could say anything else, Hayden walked out of the room, letting the door hiss shut. The creak of wood straining against buffets of wind was his only companion as he made his way through the halls. Lining the wall to his right were portraits of the previous provosts, all men and all his ancestors. Each showed them with gray hair, some bald, others balding.

Finally, at the end, he reached the latest two portraits. One showed himself just a few years ago when he was crowned, for lack of a better term. Even in the short period, he couldn’t believe how much older he looked. The second to last was one of his father, Thaddeus Reid, shortly before he passed. He sat with his usual gray and gold robes, his hands folded in his lap and a passive expression on his face.

“Am I doing the right thing?” Hayden whispered. He reached out and touched the wooden frame. “What would you do, dad?”

“Well, for starters, I don’t think he’d be talking to a painting.” Kaylee’s voice behind him caused him to jump. He spun around to find her leaning against the railing at the stairs. “No matter how realistic it looks.”

“I told you to get to the safe room,” he said, attempting to sound stern. By the smirk on her face, however, he knew he failed.

“Have I ever listened to anything you told me to do?” She walked over and wrapped her arms around him, holding tight. He returned the embrace, happy for the momentary distraction. “I heard what happened at the capitol. It’s horrible.”

“How did we get to this point?” He tried to restrain them, but the heat of tears slowly made its way down both his cheeks. “I’m supposed to defend this planet, and now…”

“No one said this would be easy.” She rubbed his back in gentle circles. “You’ll make the right choice. You always do.”

“I sure hope so.” He squeezed her tight and kissed her cheek before releasing her. “But I have a press conference to handle. You get back to Skylar and Rachel. And tell Skylar he’s in charge now since apparently you can’t be trusted.”

Hayden said the last with a smile, which she returned. Kaylee nodded and disappeared down the stairs. Hayden stood there for several more seconds, taking deep breaths and wiping away the tears. It wouldn’t do to go into the conference with a tear-streaked face. Finally, he made his own way downstairs to the first floor Felix Reid Press Room, named for the first leader of Stariek.

Hayden entered the room to find it full of more reporters than he ever saw in the cramped area. Every chair was full, and standing space was nearly nonexistent. Immediately, a barrage of questions and accusations was thrown at him. Small camera drones flitted near the ceiling, locked in place by the home’s remote access. He answered none, simply managing a weak smile and approaching the podium at the center of the wall. A series of microphones were setup atop it. Next to the podium was the blue and white flag of Stariek with the four diamonds in the center. Behind him flew the same phoenix symbol which decorated his office door.

“Hello, everyone,” Hayden said, the smile fading away from his lips as they suddenly went dry. His voice was amplified through one of the microphones connected to speakers throughout the room. The voices slowly died away, with a few still shouting last questions that went ignored. “I apologize for the short notice, but I don’t have much time, so let’s get right down to it. It is with a heavy heart I speak before you all. At approximately one twenty-three this afternoon, there was suspicion of a firearm being used against police forces monitoring the protest in front of the Hallow Building. As a result, the officers attempted to subdue the individual responsible. In the course of their duties, they were overzealous. Far too overzealous. Over two hundred people were killed, another seven hundred wounded. Any loss of life during a peaceful protest is unacceptable. This is an atrocity, especially to happen so close to home.

“Now, I really don’t have time for questions, so let me try to answer any you may have and let you get on your way. Despite the noise and light of gunfire, which was picked up on surveillance cameras prior to the officers shooting, we have been unable to locate a firearm in the vicinity. An investigation is underway to determine the cause of the incident. While it is conducted, each of the officers involved has been suspended without pay. Our initial analysis indicates Hyperion agents may have been responsible for subterfuge that made it seem like one of the protesters was firing on the officers to provoke a response such as this. There are currently no intentions to change the government’s plans to refuse the Hyperion annexation.

“We currently do not have anything else for you. My press secretary will keep you updated with any developments.” Hayden paused to take a deep breath. His eyes glistened as tears began to form before he blinked them away. “My heart goes out to the families affected by this. I am so sorry this happened. There should never be any reason to avoid exercising one’s rights, including that to peacefully protest. I hope we are able to overcome this as we have everything else. Thank you.”

He walked away as the reporters resumed their shouting. These went as answered as the first round, and the door hissing shut behind him cut off the noise. Each step he took seemed to be heavier and take longer than the last. When he wound up outside his office door, he found himself doing something he had never done before: praying.

Hayden was not a religious man. He had not attended a church service in his life, at least not that he could remember. As such, the words came in a jumbled mess, tumbling over one another in his head in a semi-coherent, stream of consciousness rant. If there was some all-knowing deity out there, he hoped they would hear his call and grant him the help he desired. Not for his own sake, but for his people’s.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!