Story code: ST-001305
Part 2: The Second Family
I found an open data terminal in the quiet alcove behind the VIP dining suite. The terminal’s blue interface cast a cold glow over my face as I swiped my candidate ID. Because of my father’s sponsor status, my profile had secondary clearance, allowing me access to the non-classified passenger registries.
My fingers flew across the glass interface, typing in the code I had memorized: 992-Delta-4.
The screen blinked, a loading bar stretching across the display. I held my breath, watching the door of the alcove. If Richard saw me here, he would shut down my access immediately.
The search results loaded.
It wasn’t a simulation profile. The database entry for registry 992-Delta-4 belonged to a sixteen-year-old boy named Marcus Vance. The address listed was in the outer residential sector of the launch city-a district my father frequently visited for what he claimed were sponsor committee audits. But it was the dependent link that made my breath catch. The boy’s legal guardian was listed as Richard Vance, co-signed by a woman named Sarah Vance.
“I told you to let it go, Leo.”
I turned around to see my father standing in the shadow of the alcove entrance. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his posture defensive. He didn’t look angry; he looked exhausted, his face lined with a tension I had never seen during his corporate press conferences.
“Who is Marcus?” I asked, keeping my voice low so the passing security officers wouldn’t hear. “And why does he have a duplicate biometric card with your face on it?”
Richard took a step closer, his eyes ·ting to the terminal screen before he pressed the log-out button, clearing the display. “He is your brother, Leo. My son.”
The words hung in the sterile air. I stared at him, my mind scrambling to piece together the timeline. “Mother has no idea.”
“Your mother has enough to carry,” Richard said, his tone turning sharp. “Marcus has a respiratory condition. He won’t survive another decade in the Earth’s lower dome. I used my sponsor allocation to create a secondary slot for him. Because the biometric gates require a parental link scan for minors, I had to register his profile using a duplicate of my own biometric template to bypass the automatic filter. It’s the only way to get him on the shuttle.”
“It’s a federal violation,” I whispered. “If the gate scanners at the Departure Archway detect two matching biometric templates under different names tomorrow, the system will lock down. They’ll pull me. They’ll pull Mom. We’ll lose everything.”
“I am the mission sponsor, Leo. I control the gate overrides,” Richard said, his voice tightening. “I have worked for five years to make sure both of my sons make it to Mars. I only need you to keep quiet at the ceremony tomorrow. If you say nothing, the system will process the overrides and we all board.”
“And if it doesn’t?” I asked, looking at the man I had trusted my entire life. “If the automated system overrides you?”
Richard’s face hardened, the last traces of parental warmth vanishing. “If you expose this, the Vance name is finished. I will lose my sponsorship, and your ticket will be cancelled before you even touch the gantry. Choose wisely, Leo.”
He turned and walked back toward the dining room, leaving me alone in the cold blue light of the terminal.