"Is that so? Then you can retire the ship to me and I'll let you walk free."
The chains holding the nose of the Jessica were taught and slowly pulling the the ship in towards the mouth of the cave as the old man spoke. Soon the nose was nearly touching the edge of the cave.
Jolo ran down to the armory and found the older Greeley putting on the other pair of magna boots. “He’s my brother. I’m going to get him.”
But Jolo told him to stay put, then put the boots on himself and went topside. He took a quick look at the bottom and saw the younger Greeley hanging upside down unconscious, but still breathing, and still tied to the safety line. So Jolo made his way back up top and then down to the entrance of the cave to talk to the old man. Jolo held his hands up but the old man had his gun pointed straight at Jolo as he made his way onto the surface of the cavern. The man held an old steel tubed projectile weapon that shot out a pattern of small lead pellets. Like his gun, crude, but highly effective. Especially at short range.
The floor was smooth metal and the inside was clearly designed to house a spaceship. Once on solid ground inside the cavern, Jolo walked towards the old man.
The old man got a good look at Jolo and his face instantly softened. The rifle in his hands slowly came down like it was suddenly heavy. And then he just dropped it. He stepped towards Jolo and put his hands on Jolo's face. His eyes were red and watery and somehow he was older than he was a moment before. "Let me look at you, Boy," said the old man. "They said you was a synth come to destroy the peace. But all I see is Jolo. Those ungrateful bastards. They say they want to kill you because you're a synth. But that's a lie. They know you could fire up the rebellion again. Things ain't like they were."
"Who are you?" said Jolo.
"I'm your father. Welcome home."
Father
Duval, in the home of Marco Vargas.
The hole in the wall turned out to be a large bay, complete with everything that Hurley needed to get the Jessica repaired. In the back of the cavernous hold was a tunnel which led to a large home with multiple levels and even an atrium near the top which could not be seen from above. Everything about the place was geared towards secrecy and seclusion. And so the crew stayed in Jolo's father’s house, which Koba called the Pirates Nest—a name Jolo's father did not seem to mind at all.
And while the Greeley brothers discussed arms, historic and modern, with the old man that everyone called Marco, and Hurley and Koba busied themselves repairing the Jessica, and Katy sampled the strawberries growing in the atrium, Jolo spent most of his time in the library.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, there was no immediate threat to his life. And even though the Federation and the BG were searching for him--here in this place, with the man called Marco, who claimed to be his father, a new feeling came over him. For the first time he felt safe.
While he was trying to escape he didn't have much time to think, which was a good thing. But at the big, secluded house, hidden away in the face of a cliff, his brain would not shut down. He couldn't sleep, couldn't do much of anything, except think about the girl, Jaylen Voss. One thought dominated his mind: he had to get to her, to rescue her, to save her. And he didn't even know where she was.
At night he would walk through the foreign place, a place that was supposed to be his home, and he usually ended up in the library, standing in the middle of hundreds of images projected in 3d space all around him. All of them starring a smiling, dark-haired boy running through the tall, green grass of a planet he did not remember, chasing a small brown dog, or being held tightly by a woman he didn't know, but supposed was his mother.
One night when the house was quiet and everyone else was asleep, the old man found him there and pointed to the image of the woman and the boy. "She was so beautiful. She loved you so much.”
Jolo wondered what he was supposed to say. Should he lie and say that he missed her? Like all the images that he saw there, she was just a woman that he didn't know, just like the boy in the pictures, just like the man standing before him. So he just nodded.
“Casualty of war,” the old man continued. “The BG needed something and if your planet had it, then you were royally farked. They needed minerals from Pleny. And like dumbasses, we thought we could beat the black, alacyte bastards. Big and strong we were, ignorant farmers from a nutrient rich land. But they mowed us down and took what they wanted. Not many made it out. And after that you went dark, joined the Fed, and were hell bent on making things right in your mind. I think you figured if you could kill enough of them then you’d get some relief. But that never happened. I figured you was gonna die fighting.” And then he stopped, put his hand on Jolo’s shoulder. “But we got lucky, didn’t we? Sometimes forgetting is a good thing.”
“What should I call you?” said Jolo.
“Marco is fine, for now. But I am your father and it’s good to have you back.” The old man headed for the door.
“Marco?”
“Yes?”
“Are any images missing? I’m looking for a
