CHAPTER NINE (CONT.)

        “Commander…, are you with us?” asks the Counselor, catching me off guard.

        “Yes! Of course,” I say as I lean back in my chair, stretching my back as I try to shake away the unease. “Why do you ask?”

        “I don’t know. I’m sure it’s nothing, but…,” he says, squinching his eyes before going on to say, “you just seem distant is all.”

        “Oh no! I’m good. I promise. Please, proceed as you were.”

        “Alright then. As you were saying, Mr. Hopper,” says the Counselor, eyeing me suspiciously as he directs my attention back to the matter at hand.

        “Yes, well, where was I?” asks Mr. Hopper, taking a brief moment to clear his throat before finding his place. “Ah, yes! At approximately 08:53 pm, Monday night, our intelligence officers received word of a previously unidentified threat emanating from within Sector B.”

        “Hmm. Curious,” I say, huffing as I settle into my seat. I have a feeling I’m going to be here awhile. “Do we know of the source?”

        “Yes!” says Mr. Hopper, a little too enthusiastically. “According to our security experts, the source of the threat is none other than Grav-Tech Industries; and the medical research facility they operate out on the outskirts of Sector B.”

        “Seriously?” I ask, a little dumbfounded. “Grav-Tech is the source of a previously unidentified threat? This previously unidentified threat? How is that even possible? I thought all they did was supply the station with artificial gravity.”

        “They did until about twenty years ago when your mother de-regulated the artificial gravity industry, and opened the door for some pretty fierce competition to creep in on their territory,” says Mr. Hopper, sighing. He looks so tense. But why?

        “Okay. And?” I ask, still a little dumbfounded. This is all news to me. My mother was very secretive when it came to anything work-related. “What happened next?”

        “Grav-Tech had to make a change, of course,” says Mr. Hopper, shrugging his shoulders.

        “Oh, come on, Mr. Hopper! Cut the crap, and tell me already!” I say, feeling a sudden surge of raw anger boil up from my stomach. “How did Grav-Tech handle the competition?”

        “At the behest of the Council, Grav-Tech decided to start investing heavily in the biology and pharmaceutical industries,” says the Counselor, aptly stealing the spotlight from Mr. Hopper.

        “Why?” I ask, stunned. My voice barely louder than a whisper.

        “Because the station was dealing with a terrible agricultural crisis at the time, and the Council was desperate to find a solution,” says the Counselor, taking a minute to get his bearings before continuing. “After three decades of failing to properly rotate their crops, our farmers could no longer get the synthetic mineral treatments to take hold in the soil. That, in turn, caused the soil to become extremely hostile to organic plant life, and made the farms increasingly barren.”

        “Okay. That, I understand,” I say, thinking things through for a bit before going on to say, “but what I don’t understand is why the Council would turn to Grav-Tech for help. Can you explain that to me?”

        “To put it mildly, the Council turned to Grav-Tech because they were running out of time,” says the Counselor, sighing as he shakes his head. “While there were numerous other companies out there with far more expertise on the matter, none of them were quite up to the challenge. They all lacked the hunger, the drive, and the passion to take the necessary risks; and taking those risks was crucial if a permanent fix was going to be found in what little time remained.”

        “Alright. So then, what you’re saying is that Grav-Tech was willing to take the necessary risks, right?” I ask, finally feeling like I’m able to make some sense out of all of this.

        “Precisely,” says the Counselor.

        “Okay, but why?” I ask, racking my brain as I try to put everything together. “Why would Grav-Tech be willing to take those risks?”

        “Because they were becoming similarly desperate,” says the Counselor. “A few weeks after your mother de-regulated the artificial gravity industry, several competitors began flooding the marketplace; offering similar services for a fraction of the price, and Grav-Tech simply couldn’t keep up. Within a couple months’ time, their revenues had plummeted to record lows; and their stocks were beginning to crash. If they wanted to avoid total financial ruin, they needed the Council just as much as the Council needed them.”

        “None of this is making any sense, though,” I say, starting to feel a little aggravated. “How was a company that dabbled solely in artificial gravity able to solve an agricultural crisis?”

        “Well, the official story is that Grav-Tech was able to find a solution by re-formulating the synthetic mineral treatments,” says the Counselor, clearing his throat as he readjusts himself in his seat. “The unofficial story, however, is a bit more complicated.”

        “Didn’t it involve them capturing an asteroid?” asks Mr. Hopper in a concerted effort to the steal the spotlight back from the Counselor.

        “Yes,” says the Counselor, refusing to give in as he briefly stares down Mr. Hopper before continuing. “The unofficial story is that Grav-Tech used their pre-existing gravity wells to distort the station’s exterior gravitational fields, and capture an asteroid.”

        “Okay, but for what purpose?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound too much like an idiot.

        “Good question! Unfortunately, that’s classified; and we’re starting to run out of time,” says the Counselor as he glances down at his wrist. “However, before we move on, I will tell you this. Grav-Tech ultimately turned that asteroid into a heaping pile of dirt, and then used that dirt to revitalize the fertility and productivity levels in our farms. What they weren’t made aware of, though, was the fact that the asteroid contained within itself a parasitic fungus; nor were they made aware of the fungus until after it started showing up in the food supply, and began infecting the general population.

        “By then, Grav-Tech wasn’t left with much choice. They searched for an available space, found it on the outskirts of Sector B, and got to work. First, by constructing a medical research facility; and finding a way to safely purge the fungus from the food supply. And then, by treating those who could be treated; and relocating those who could not be treated back to their newly built facility for further observation and security purposes.

        “In doing so, though, Grav-Tech wound up enraging the Council because they were fearful, at first, of another fungal-related outbreak; and didn’t want to place anymore lives in jeopardy. But then they realized the potential usefulness of the fungus, and had a change of heart.

        “So long as Grav-Tech could use the infected individuals to determine the long-term viability of the parasitic fungus as a bio-agent in the war against the United Colonies of Required Restoration – or UCRR as they like to be called – down on Earth, and then find a way to successfully incorporate the fungus into Project Eden, the Council saw no problem in allowing Grav-Tech to continue their observations. And while the stability of the resulting serum is still up for much debate, as witnessed by our last failed attempt, Grav-Tech managed to satisfy the Council’s every wish; which leads me to your son, Daniel Ross, Commander. Are you aware of the role he played in carrying out last week’s anomaly, as it is being referred to? Or of the fact that this anomaly was actually a bombing that not only took place inside Grav-Tech’s medical research facility, but that also led to the previously unidentified threat Mr. Hopper mentioned earlier when the ensuing chaos allowed several high-level assets to break containment protocol?”

        “No…, why? What are you talking about?” I ask, feeling completely caught off guard as I look back and forth between the Counselor and Mr. Hopper. “My son works as an entry-level field technician. He spends his days in the sectors, fixing gravity outages, and his nights with his partner in their shared apartment. He doesn’t have the time, the clearance, or the resources to properly carry out any type of anomaly; much less the one Grav-Tech experienced last week.”

        “Oh, but he does; and he did, I’m afraid,” says Mr. Hopper, the look in his eyes so intense. “It took a lot of snooping, but we found surveillance footage of him planting the bombs inside the facility over the course of a few weeks; and then of him setting them off with a remote trigger device. We also know he was instrumental in keeping our last round of Project Eden test subjects alive, and in leading us to believe they had been euthanized all that time ago. Put it all together, and the picture becomes surprisingly clear, Commander. Your son is a bona fide bio-terrorist.”

        “What? No! That c-can’t be true,” I stammer, setting my sights on Mr. Hopper as my heart drops a thousand feet; and liquid dread fills my lungs and throat. Choking me. “And even if it is, why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner? What was the point of keeping me in the dark?”

        “That, I can’t say for sure,” says Mr. Hopper as he slouches in his seat, looking completely drained all of a sudden. “But, either way, I’m not sorry about it, Commander. If I hadn’t done what I did, you never would’ve agreed to show up here for this meeting.”

        “You’re damn right I wouldn’t have!” I say, completely livid. “You know this makes you a traitor, right?”

        “No, Commander, it does not make him a traitor,” says the Counselor, rather sternly, as he rises from the table. “But your son is for risking the lives of everyone on board this station by granting free reign of it to every single fungus-infected individual, including all of our previous Project Eden test subjects, under the current care and observation of Grav-Tech; and so are you.”

        “Me?” I ask, my hand flying to my chest. “What did I do?”

        “At some point or another, you failed in your duties as a mother by allowing your son to fraternize with a member of the same sex; and then in your duties as a leader by ostracizing your son privately, but failing to oust him publicly so that the Council could do their due diligence. Had you done things differently, we might not be in this predicament right now; and for that, you will pay dearly. You will be stripped of your rank, just like your mother before you, and permanently exiled to the Catacombs in two weeks’ time.

        “In the meantime, the Council has handed custodianship rights of you over to Mr. Hopper. He has been asked not to leave your side at any point, from here on out, until the time of your exilement; and to also watch over you as you carry out your final acts of service as Station Commander. Is that clear?”

        “Yes, Counselor,” I say through gritted teeth; refusing to look him in the eye as I lean back in my chair, and cross my arms. Trying to look as defiant as possible.

        “Good,” says the Counselor as he heads over to the door, propping it open with his hand and foot. “Now, you’d best get going. Rumor has it the Council has made the executive decision to re-active Project Eden, and there may or may not already be at least one viable test subject awaiting initiation.”

        “Fine!” I say as I get up from the table, and head for the door. “But, before I go, can you at least tell me what’ll happen to Dan? If he’s to be executed, or worse, I have a right to know.”

        “Though he will most likely be interrogated, and then initiated into Project Eden for his crimes against humanity; Daniel Ross’s exact fate has yet to be determined,” says the Counselor, nonchalantly, as he motions for me to go. “Now, please don’t make things any harder than they have to be, and go.”

        “Okay,” I say as I walk through the door. Followed, almost entirely, by Mr. Hopper – a man who betrayed me without even the smallest amount of remorse, or sympathy. I never thought this day would come, but at least now I can finally see him for the type of man he truly is; and say with the utmost confidence that he will be punished for what he did today. Of this, I am certain.