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Accompanying the revelation was a growing resentment at the way Kiera was using them—to which the prospect of fighting for Capone was a worrying development. Even if he was offered a human body now, Rocio was doubtful he wanted to go with the habitat. He wasn’t frightened of space like the rest of the returned souls, not anymore, not possessing this magnificent creature. Space and all its emptiness was to be loved for its freedom.
Gravity returned slowly as Gerald drifted through the airlock tube, his shoulder bag in tow. The airlock compartment he landed in was almost identical to the one he had left behind. But it was larger, its technology more discreet, and outside the hatch Choi-Ho and Maxim Payne greeted him with smiles and comforting words where behind Knox and his eldest son had stood guard over their hatch with TIP carbines and scowls.
“There are several cabins available,” Choi-Ho said. “Not enough for everyone, so you’ll probably have to double up.”
Gerald smiled blankly, which came over more as a frightened grimace.
“Pick any one,” she told him kindly.
“When will we get there?” Gerald asked.
“We have a rendezvous in the Kabwe system in eight hours, after that we’ll be going back to Valisk. It should be about twenty hours.”
“Twenty? Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“Twenty.” It was said with deference. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, quite sure.” People were starting to bunch up in the airlock behind him; all of them curiously reluctant to push past. “A cabin,” she suggested hopefully.
“Come on, Gerald, mate,” Beth said breezily. She took his arm and pulled gently. He walked obediently down the corridor with her. He only stopped once, and that was to look over his shoulder and say an earnest, “Thank you,” to an oddly intrigued Choi-Ho.
Beth kept going right to the end of the U-shaped corridor. She thought it would be best to get Gerald a cabin away from the rest of the Deadnights. “Can you believe this place?” she said. She was walking on a deep red carpet past portholes that shone brilliant beams of sunlight into the corridor (although she couldn’t see out through them). The doors were all golden wood. In her usual sweatshirt, two jackets, and baggy jeans she felt uncomfortably out of place.
She peered around a door and found an empty cabin. There were two bunk beds clipped to a wall, and a small sliding door to the bathroom. The plumbing was similar to the toilet in the Leonora Cephei , except this was all heavy brass with small white glazed ceramic buttons.
“This ought to do you,” she said confidently. A quiet pule made her turn around. Gerald was standing just inside the door, his knuckles pressed into his mouth.
“What’s the matter, Gerald?”
“Twenty hours.”
“I know. But that’s good, isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure. I want to be there, to see her again. But she’s not her anymore, not my Marie.”
He was quaking. Beth put an arm around his shoulders and eased him down onto the bottom bunk. “Easy there, Gerald. Once we’re at Valisk, all this is going to seem like a bad dream; honestly, mate.”
“It doesn’t end there, it starts there. And I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to save her. I can’t put her in zero-tau by myself. They’re so strong, and evil.”
“Who, Gerald? Who are you talking about? Who’s Marie?”
“My baby.”
He was crying now, his head pressed into her shoulder. She patted the back of his neck instinctively.
“I don’t know what to do,” he gasped out. “She’s not here to help me.”
“Marie’s not here?”
“No. Loren. She’s the only one that can help me. She’s the only one who can help any of us.”
“It’s all right, Gerald, really, you’ll see.”
The reaction wasn’t what she expected at all. Gerald started a hysterical laugh which was half screams. Beth wanted to let go and get out of the cabin fast. He’d flipped, totally flipped now. The only reason she kept hold of him was because she didn’t know what would happen if she didn’t. He might get worse.
“Please, Gerald,” she begged. “You’re frightening me.”
He grabbed both of her shoulders, squeezing hard enough to make her flinch. “Good!” His face had reddened with anger. “You should be frightened, you stupid, stupid little girl. Don’t you understand where we’re going?”
“We’re going to Valisk,” Beth whispered.
“Yes, Valisk. That doesn’t frighten me, I’m bloody terrified. They’re going to torture us, hurt you so bad you’ll beg a soul to possess you and stop them. I know they will. That’s all they ever do. They did it to me before, and then Dr Dobbs made me go through it again, and again and again just so he could know what it was like.” The anger drained out of him, and he sagged forwards into her awkward embrace. “I’ll kill myself. Yes. Maybe that’s it. I can help Marie that way. I’m sure I can. Anything’s better than possession again.”
Beth started rocking him as best she could, soothing him as she would any five-year-old who’d woken from a nightmare. The things he was saying plagued her badly. After all, they only had Kiera’s word that she was building a fresh society for them. One recording that promised she was different from the rest. “Gerald?” she asked after a while. “Who’s this Marie you want to help?”
“My daughter.”
“Oh. I see. Well how do you know she’s at Valisk?”
“Because she’s the one Kiera’s possessing.”
Rocio Condra parted his beak in what passed for a smile. The sensor in Skibbow’s cabin wasn’t the best, and his affinity link with its bitek processor suffered annoying dropouts. But what had been said was plain enough.
He wasn’t entirely sure how he could use the knowledge, but it was the first sign of any possible chink in Kiera’s armour. That was a start.
Stephanie could finally see the end of the red cloud cover. The heavy ceiling had been dropping closer to the ground for some time now as the convoy drove unimpeded along the M6. Individual clumps and streamers churned against each other in a motion reminiscent of waves crashing on rocks, bright slivers of pink and gold rippled among the distorted underbelly. They acted like a conductor for a current of pure agitation. The will of the possessed was being thwarted, their shield against the sky arrested by the Kingdom’s firebreak.
The cliff of white light sleeting down along the boisterous edge appeared almost solid. Certainly it took her eyes a while to acclimatize, slowly resolving the grainy shadows which crouched at the end of the road.
“I think it might be a good idea to slow down now,” Moyo said in her ear.
She applied the brakes, reducing their speed to a crawl. The other three buses behind matched her caution. Two hundred metres from the flexing curtain of sunlight she stopped altogether. The cloud base was only four or five hundred metres high here, hammering on the invisible boundary in perpetual ferment.
Two sets of bright orange barriers had been erected across the road. The first was under the edge of the cloud, sometimes bathed in red light, sometimes in white; the second was three hundred metres north, guarded by a squad of Royal Marines. Behind them, several dozen military vehicles were drawn up on the hard shoulder, armoured troop transports, ground tanks, general communications vehicles, lorries, a canteen, and several field headquarters caravans.
Stephanie opened the bus doors and stepped down onto the road. The thunder was an aggressive growl here, warning outsiders to keep back.
“What did they do to the grass?” Moyo shouted. Just inside the line of sunlight, the grass was dead, its blades blackened and desiccated. Already it was crumbling into dust. The dead zone lay parallel to the border of the red cloud as far as the eye could see, forming a rigid stripe that cut cleanly across every contour.
Stephanie looked along the broad swath of destruction, trees and bushes had been burned to charcoal stumps. “Some kind of no-man’s-land, I suppose.”
“That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?”
She laughed, and pointed up at the glowing cloud.
“Okay, you got a point. What do you want to do next?”
“I’m not sure.” She resented her indecision immediately. This was the culmination of enormous emotional investment. For all that, the practicalities of the moment had been ignored. I almost wish we were still travelling, it gave me such a sense of satisfaction. What have we got after this?
Cochrane, McPhee, and Rana joined them.
“Some terminally unfriendly looking dudes we have here,” Cochrane yelled above the thunder. The marines lining the barrier were motionless, while more were hurrying from the cluster of vehicles to reinforce them.
“I’d better go and talk to them,” Stephanie said.
“Not alone?” Moyo protested.
“I’ll look a lot less threatening than a delegation.” A white handkerchief sprouted from Stephanie’s hand; she held it up high and clambered over the first set of barriers.
Lieutenant Anver watched her coming and gave his squad their deployment assignments, sending half of them out to flank the road and watch for any other possessed trying to sneak over, not that they’d ever get past the satellites. His helmet sensors zoomed in for a close-up on the woman’s face. She was squinting uncomfortably at the light as she emerged from under the dappled shadow of the red cloud. A pair of sunglasses materialized on her face.
“Definitely possessed, sir,” he datavised to Colonel Palmer.
“We see that, thank you, Anver,” the colonel replied. “Be advised, the security committee is accessing your datavise now.”
“Sir.”
“There’s no other activity along the firebreak,” Admiral Farquar datavised. “We don’t think she’s a diversion.”
“Go see what she wants, Anver,” Colonel Palmer ordered. “And be very careful.”
“Yes, sir.”
Two of his squad slid a section of the barrier aside, and he stepped forwards. For all that it was only a hundred-metre walk, it lasted half of his life. He spent the time trying to think what to say to her, but when they stopped a few paces from each other, all he said was: “What do you want?”
She lowered her hand with the handkerchief and gave him a cautious smile. “We brought some children out. They’re in the buses back there. I, um . . . wanted to tell you so you wouldn’t . . . you know.” The smile became one of embarrassment. “We weren’t sure how you’d react.”
“Children?”
“Yes. About seventy. I don’t know the exact number, I never actually counted.”
“Does she mean non-possessed?” Admiral Farquar datavised.
“Are these children possessed?”
“Of course not,” Stephanie said indignantly. “What do you think we are?”
“Lieutenant Anver, this is Princess Kirsten.”
Anver stiffened noticeably. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Ask her what she wants, what the deal is.”
“What do you want for them?”
Stephanie’s lips tightened in anger. “I don’t want anything. Not in return, they’re just children. What I’d like is an assurance that you military types aren’t going to shoot them when we send them over.”
“Oh, dear,” Princess Kirsten datavised. “Apologize to her, Lieutenant, on my behalf, please. And tell her that we’re very grateful to her and those with her for bringing the children back to us.”
Anver cleared his throat, this wasn’t quite what he expected when he started his lonely walk out here. “I’m very sorry, ma’am. The Princess sends her apologies for assuming the worst. We’re very grateful to you for what you’ve done.”
“I understand. This isn’t easy for me, either. Now, how do you want to handle this?”
Twelve Royal Marines came back to the buses with her; volunteers, without their armour suits and weapons. The bus doors were opened, and the children came down. There were a lot of tears and running around in confusion. Most of them wanted a last kiss and a hug from the adults who had rescued them (Cochrane was especially popular), much to the amazement of the marines.
Stephanie found herself almost in tears as the last batch started off down the broad road, clustering around the big marine; one of them was even being given a piggyback. Moyo’s arm was around her shoulders to hold her tight.
Lieutenant Anver came over to stand in front of her and saluted perfectly (to which Cochrane managed a quite obscene parody). He looked badly troubled. “Thank you again, all of you,” he said. “That’s me saying it, I can’t datavise under the cloud.”
“Oh, do take care of the little darlings,” Tina said, sniffing hard. “Poor Analeese has the most dreadful cold, none of us could cure her. And Ryder hates nuts; I think he’s got an allergy, and—” She fell silent as Rana squeezed her forearm.
“We’ll take care of them,” Lieutenant Anver said gravely. “And you, you take care of yourselves.” He glanced pointedly out to the firebreak where a procession of vehicles was massing around the barrier to greet the children. “You might want to do that away from here.” A crisp nod at Stephanie, and he was walking back towards the barrier.
“What did he mean?” Tina asked querulously.
“Wowee.” Cochrane let out a long breath. “We like did it , man, we showed the forces of bad vibes not to mess with us.”
Moyo kissed Stephanie. “I’m very proud of you.”
“Ugh,” Cochrane exclaimed. “Don’t you two cats ever stop?”
A smiling Stephanie leaned forwards and kissed him on his forehead, getting hair caught on her lips. “Thank you, too.”
“Will somebody tell me what he meant,” Tina said. “Please.”
“Nothing good,” McPhee said. “That’s a fact.”
“So now what do we do?” Rana asked. “Go round up another group of kids? Or split up? Or settle that farm we talked about? What?”
“Oh, stay together, definitely,” Tina said. “After everything we’ve done I couldn’t bear losing any of you, you’re my family now.”
“Family. That’s cosmic, sister. So like what’s your position on incest?”
“I don’t know what we’ll decide,” Stephanie said. “But I think we should take the lieutenant’s advice, and do it a long way away from here.”
The spaceplane rose out of Nyvan’s stratosphere on twin plumes of plasma flame, arching up towards its orbital injection coordinate a thousand kilometres ahead. Submunitions were still peppering space with explosions and decoy flares, while electronic warfare drones blasted gigawatt pulses at any emission they could detect. Now its reaction drive rockets were on, the spaceplane was no longer invisible to the residuals of the combat wasp battle.
Lady Macbeth flew cover a hundred kilometres above it, sensors and maser cannon deployed to strike any missile which acquired lock-on. The starship had to make continual adjustments to its flight vector to keep the spaceplane within its protective radius. Joshua watched its drive flaring, reducing velocity, accelerating, switching altitude. Five times its masers fired to destroy incoming submunitions.
By the time the spaceplane had reached orbit and was manoeuvring to dock, the sky above Nyvan had calmed considerably. Only three other starships were visible to Lady Mac ’s sensors, all of them were frigates belonging to local defence forces. None of them seemed interested in Lady Mac , or even each other. Beaulieu began a thorough sensor sweep, alert for the inevitable chaotic showers of post-explosion debris which would make low orbit hazardous for some time to come. Some of the returns were odd, making her redefine the sweep’s parameters. Lady Mac ’s sensors shifted their focus away from the planet itself.
Joshua slid cleanly through the hatchway into the bridge. His clothes had dried out in the hot air of the spaceplane’s cabin, but the dirt and stains remained. Dahybi’s ship-suit was in a similar state.
Sarha gave him an apprehensive glance. “Melvyn?” she asked quietly.
“Not a chance. Sorry.”
“Bugger.”
“You two did a good job up here,” Joshua said. “Well done, that was some fine piloting to stay above the spaceplane.”
“Thanks, Josh.”
Joshua looked from Liol, who was anchored to a stikpad by the captain’s acceleration couch, to Sarha, whose expression was utterly unrepentant.
“Oh, Jesus, you gave him the access codes.”
“Yes, I did. My command decision. There was a war up here, Joshua.”
It wasn’t, he decided, worth making an issue out of, not in view of everything else that was happening. “That’s why I left you in charge,” he said. “I had confidence in you, Sarha.”
She frowned suspiciously. He sounded sincere. “So you got Mzu, then. I hope it was worth it.”
“For the Confederation I suppose it is. For individuals . . . you’d have to ask them. But then individuals have been dying because of her for some time now.”
“Captain, please access our sensor suite,” Beaulieu said.
“Right.” He rolled in midair, and landed on his acceleration couch. The images from the external sensor clusters expanded into his mind. Wrong. They had to be wrong. “Jesus wept!” His brain was already acting in conjunction with the flight computer’s astrogration program to plot a vector before he’d fully admitted the reality of the tide of rock descending on the planet. “Prepare for acceleration, thirty seconds—mark. We have to leave.” A fast internal sensor check showed him his new passengers hurrying towards couches; images superimposed with purple and yellow trajectory plots that wriggled frantically as he refined their projected trajectory.
“Who did that?” he asked.
“No idea,” Sarha said. “It happened during the battle, we didn’t even know until afterwards. But it sure as hell wasn’t random combat wasp strikes.”
“I’ll monitor the drive tubes,” Joshua said. “Sarha, take systems coverage, please. Liol, you’ve got fire control.”
“Aye, Captain,” Liol said.
It was a strictly neutral tone. Joshua was satisfied with that. He triggered Lady Mac ’s fusion drives, bringing them up to a three-gee acceleration.
“Where are we going?” Liol asked.
“Bloody good question,” Joshua said. “For now I just want us out of here. After that, it rather depends on what Ione and the agents decide, I expect.”
There must be someone who knows. One of you.
We know it is real. We know it is hidden.
Two bodies await. A male and a female. Youthful, splendid. Do you hear them? Do you taste them? Pleading for one of you to enter them. You can. All the riches and pleasures of reality can be yours again. If you have the admission price, one tiny piece of information. That’s all.
She didn’t hide it by herself. She had help from somebody. Probably many. Were you one?
Ah. Yes. You. You are being truthful. You know.
Come then. Come forwards, come through. We reward you with—
He cried out in wonder and misery as he struggled his way into the victim’s agonized nervous system. There was pain, and shame, and humiliation to cope with; tragic, terrible pleas from the body’s true soul. One by one, he faced them down, mending the broken flesh, suppressing and ignoring the protest, until there was only his own shame left. Not so easily abandoned.
“Welcome to the Organization,” said Oscar Kearn. “So, you were part of Mzu’s mission?”
“Yes. I was with her.”
“Good. She’s a clever woman, that Mzu. I’m afraid she’s eluded us once again, thanks to that traitor bitch Barnes. Even so, only the amazingly resourceful can duck an ironberg when it’s falling on their heads. I didn’t realize what I was dealing with before. I don’t suppose she would have helped us even if we had caught her. She’s like that, tough and determined. But now her luck’s run out. You can tell me, can’t you? You know where the Alchemist is.”
“Yes,” Ikela said. “I know where it is.”
Alkad Mzu floated into the bridge, accompanied by Monica and Samuel. She acknowledged Joshua with a small twitch of her lips, then blinked when she saw Liol. “I didn’t know there were two of you.”
Liol grinned broadly.
“Before we all start arguing over what to do with you, Doctor,” a serjeant said. “I’d like you to confirm the Alchemist does or did exist.”
Alkad tapped her toe on a stikpad beside the captain’s couch, preventing herself from drifting about. “Yes, it exists. And I built it. I wish to Mary I hadn’t, now, but the past is past. My only concern now is that it doesn’t fall into anybody’s hands, not yours, and certainly not the possessed.”
“Very noble,” Sarha said, “from someone who was going to use it to kill an entire planet.”
“They wouldn’t have been killed,” Alkad said wearily. “It was intended to extinguish Omuta’s star, not turn it nova. I’m not an Omutan barbarian; they’re the ones who kill entire worlds.”
“Extinguish a star?” Samuel mused in puzzlement.
“Please don’t ask for details.”
“I propose Dr Mzu is taken back to Tranquillity,” the serjeant said. “We can formalize the observation to insure she doesn’t pass the information on. I don’t think you will anyway, Doctor, but intelligence agencies are highly suspicious entities.”
Monica consulted Samuel. “I can live with that,” she said. “Tranquillity is neutral territory. It isn’t all that different to our original agreement.”
“It isn’t,” Samuel agreed. “But, Doctor, you do realize you cannot be allowed to die. Certainly not until the problem of possession has been resolved.”
“Fine by me,” Alkad said.
“What I mean, Doctor, is that when you are very old, you must be placed in zero-tau to prevent your soul from entering the beyond.”
“I will not give anyone the Alchemist technology, no matter what the circumstances.”
“I’m sure that is your intention at the moment. But how will you feel after a hundred years trapped in the beyond? A thousand? And to be indelicate, the choice is not yours to make. It is ours. You lost the right to self-determination when you built the Alchemist. If you give yourself enough power to make a galaxy fear you and what you can achieve, you abrogate that right to those whom your actions affect.”
“I agree,” the serjeant said. “You will be placed in zero-tau before you die.”
“Why not just put me in now?” Alkad said crustily.
“Don’t tempt me,” Monica said. “I know the kind of contempt you moron intellectuals hold the government services in. Well listen good, Doctor, we exist to protect the majority so they can run around living their lives as decently and as best they can. We protect them from shits like you, who never fucking stop to think what you’re doing.”
“You didn’t protect my bloody planet, did you!” Alkad yelled back. “And don’t you dare lecture me on responsibility. I’m prepared to die to stop the Alchemist being used by anybody else, especially your imperialist Kingdom. I know my responsibilities.”
“You do now. Now you realize what a mistake you made, now people are dying just to keep your precious arse safe.”
“Okay, that’s it,” Joshua said loudly. “We’re all agreed where the doc is going, end of discussion. Nobody is going to start shouting about moral philosophy on my bridge. We’re all tired, we’re all emotional. Pack it in, the pair of you. I’m going to plot a course to Tranquillity, you go to your cabins and cool off. We’ll be home inside of two days.”
“Understood,” Monica said through clenched teeth. “And . . . thank you for getting us off. It was—”
“Professional?”
She almost snapped back at him, but that grin . . . “Professional.”
Alkad cleared her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said apologetically. “But there is a problem. We can’t go straight back to Tranquillity.”
Joshua massaged his temple and asked: “Why not?” if only to stop Monica from flying at Mzu’s throat.
“The Alchemist itself.”
“What about it?” Samuel asked.
“We have to collect it.”
“All right,” Joshua said in a far-from-reasonable tone. “Why?”
“Because it isn’t secure where it is.”
“It’s managed to stay secure for thirty years. Jesus, just take the secret of its location to zero-tau with you. If the agencies haven’t found it by now, they never will.”
“They won’t have to look anymore, nor will the possessed, especially if our current situation continues for more than a few years.”
“Go on, we may as well hear it all.”
“There were three ships on our strike mission against Omuta,” Alkad said. “The Beezling , the Chengho , and the Gombari. Beezling was the Alchemist’s deployment vessel, I was on board; the other two were our escort frigates. We were intercepted by blackhawks before we could deploy the Alchemist. They destroyed the Gombari , and hit us and the Chengho pretty badly. We were left for dead in interstellar space. Neither of us could jump, and the nearest inhabited star was seven light-years away.
“After the attack, we spent a couple of days repairing our internal systems, then we rendezvoused. It was Ikela and Captain Prager who came up with the eventual solution. Chengho was smaller than Beezling , it didn’t need as many energy patterning nodes to perform a ZTT jump. So the crew removed some of the Beezling ’s intact nodes and installed them in the Chengho . We didn’t have the proper tools for that kind of job; and then the nodes had different power ratings and performance factors, they had to be completely reprogrammed. It took us three and a half weeks, but we did it. We rebuilt ourselves a ship that could make a ZTT jump—not very well, and not very far, but it was functional. That was when things started to get difficult. The Chengho was too small to take both crews, even for just a small jump. There was only one life-support capsule, and it could hold eight of us at a push. We knew we couldn’t risk a flight back to Garissa, the nodes would never last that long, and we guessed that Omuta would have launched some kind of big attack by then. After all, that’s why we’d been dispatched in the first place, to stop them. So we jumped to the nearest inhabited star system, Crotone. The idea was that we’d charter a ship and get back to Garissa that way. Of course, when we arrived at Crotone, we heard about the genocide.
“Ikela and Prager had even formulated a worst case option. Just in case, they said. We’d brought some antimatter with us on the Chengho ; if we sold that together with the frigate it would fetch millions. Assuming the Garissan government no longer existed, we would have all the money we needed to operate independently for decades.”
“The Stromboli Separatist Council,” Samuel said suddenly.
“Right,” Alkad acknowledged. “That’s who we sold it to.”
“Ah, we never did find out how they got their antimatter. They blew up two of Crotone’s low-orbit port stations with the stuff.”
“After we left, yes,” Alkad said.
“So Ikela took the money and founded T’Opingtu.”
“Correct; once we found out that the Confederation Assembly granted the Dorados to the survivors of the genocide, all seven navy officers were given an equal share. The plan was for them to invest the money in various companies, the profits from which would be used to help fund the partizans. We needed committed nationalists to crew the ship that they were supposed to prepare for me. After that, they would buy or charter a combat-capable starship to complete the Alchemist mission. As you know, Ikela didn’t fulfill the last part of the plan. I don’t know about the others.”
“Why wait thirty years?” Joshua asked. “Why didn’t you just hire a combat-capable starship as soon as you had the money from the sale of the frigate, and go straight back to the Beezling ?”
“Because we couldn’t be sure exactly where it was. You see, we didn’t just repair the Chengho . There were thirty people and the Alchemist left behind on the Beezling . Suppose the Chengho didn’t make it, or suppose we were caught and interrogated by the CNIS or some other agency? There was even the possibility the blackhawks might return. We had to plan for all those factors as well, the remaining crew had to be given their chance, too.”
“They went into zero-tau,” Joshua said. “How does that prevent you from knowing the exact coordinate?”
“Yes, obviously they went into zero-tau, but that’s not all. We also repaired their reaction drive. They flew a vector to an uninhabited star which was only two and a half light-years away.”
“Jesus, a sub-lightspeed journey through interstellar space? You’ve got to be kidding. That’s impossible, it would take—”
“Twenty-eight years, we estimated.”
“Ah!” Realization came to Joshua like the silent detonation of Norfolk Tears after it hit the stomach. He felt a surge of admiration for those lost desperate crews of thirty years ago. Not caring what the odds were, just going for it. “They used antimatter propulsion.”
“Yes. We transferred every gram from our remaining combat wasps into the Beezling ’s confinement chambers. It was enough to accelerate them up to about nine per cent lightspeed. So now tell me, Captain, how difficult would it be to locate a ship that is moving away from its last known coordinate at eight or nine per cent lightspeed? And if you did find it, how would you rendezvous?”
“Not possible. Okay, you have to wait until the Beezling decelerated and arrived at that uninhabited star. How come you didn’t make a dash for them two years ago?”
“Because we weren’t sure just how efficient the drive would be over such a long period of use. Two years gave us an adequate safety margin; and of course as it turned out, the sanctions would be over. There was always a remote chance the Confederation Navy blockade squadron would detect us, after all it’s their job to be looking for sanction-buster starships emerging in odd places around Omuta. So after we sold the Chengho we decided on thirty years.”
“You mean the Beezling is just orbiting that star waiting for you to make contact?” Liol asked.
“Yes. Providing everything worked as it was supposed to. They are supposed to wait for another five years; the time is irrelevant in zero-tau, but the support systems cannot last indefinitely. If they hadn’t been contacted by then, either by myself and the Chengho crew, or the Garissan government, they were to destroy the Alchemist and start signalling for help. Uninhabited star systems within the Confederation boundaries are inspected on a regular basis by navy patrol ships to make sure they aren’t being used by antimatter production stations. They would have been rescued eventually.”
Joshua glanced around to the serjeant, wishing the construct had some way of displaying emotion; he’d like to know what Ione made of the story. “Makes sense,” he said. “What do you want to do?”
“We have to see if the Beezling completed its journey,” the serjeant said.
“And if it has?” Samuel asked.
“Then the Alchemist must be destroyed. After that, any surviving crew will be taken back to Tranquillity.”
“Question, Doc,” Joshua said. “If anybody sees the Alchemist, will that give them a clue to its nature?”
“No. You have no worries on that score, Captain. There is however someone among the crew who could tell you how to build another. His name is Peter Adul, he will have to remain in Tranquillity with me. After that, you will be safe again.”
“Okay, what’s the star’s coordinate?”
It was a long time before Alkad said: “Mother Mary, this is not what was meant to be.”
“Nothing ever is, Doc. I learned that long ago.”
“Ha! You’re too young.”
“Depends how you fill the years, doesn’t it?”
Alkad Mzu datavised the coordinate over.
A wormhole terminus is opening,tranquillity announced.
At the time, Ione was standing knee deep in the warm water of the cove, rubbing Haile’s flank with a big yellow bath sponge. She straightened her back and began wringing out the sponge. Her real attention was focused on a point in space a hundred and twenty thousand kilometres away from the habitat where the vacuum’s gravity density was building rapidly. Three SD platforms orbiting the emergence zone locked their X-ray lasers on to the terminus as it expanded. Five patrol blackhawks accelerated in at four gees.
A large voidhawk slipped out of the two-dimensional rent. Oenone , Confederation Navy ship SLV-66150, requesting approach and docking permission,it said. Our official flight authentication code follows.
Granted,tranquillity replied after it verified the code. The SD platforms were switched back to alert status. Three of the blackhawks resumed their patrol, while the remaining two curved around to form an escort as Oenone accelerated in towards the habitat.
“I’m going to have to leave you,” Ione said.
Jay Hilton’s vexed face peeped over the top of Haile’s gleaming white back. “What is it this time?” she asked petulantly.
“Affairs of state.” Ione started wading towards the shore. She scooped some water up and tried to flush the sand out of her bikini top.
“You always say that.”
Ione gave the disgruntled girl a forlorn smile. “Because it always is, these days.” Sorry, she added.
Haile formshifted the tip of an arm into a human hand and waved. Goodbye, Ione Saldana. I have much sorrow you are leaving, my endlegs itch like hell.
Haile!
I form a communication wrongness? I have shame.
Not wrong, exactly.
Gladness. That was a Joshua Calvert expression. Much favoured.
Ione snapped her teeth together. That bloody Calvert! Anger gave way to something more confusing, a sort of resentment . . . possibly. Hundreds of light-years away, and he still intrudes. It would be. Please don’t use it around Jay.
Understanding is me. I have a great many human emphasis phrases conveyed by Joshua Calvert.
I’ll bet you have.
I want properness in my communication. I ask your assistance in reviewing my word collection. You may edit me.
Yes, all right.
Much gladness!
Ione took another pace, then laughed. Reviewing everything Joshua had said to the young Kiint would take hours. Hours she hadn’t been spending on the beach of late. Haile was becoming very crafty.
Jay leaned against her friend, watching Ione put her sandals on and start back up the path to the tube station. There was a slightly distracted expression on the woman’s face, that Jay knew meant she was busy talking to the habitat personality. She didn’t like to dwell on the topic. More than likely, it would be the possessed again. That was all the adults talked about these days, and it was never reassuring talk.
Haile’s arm twined around Jay’s, the tip stroking her gently.
You taste of sadness.
“I don’t think these horrible possessed will ever go away.”
They will. Humans are clever. You will find a way.
“I hope so. I do want Mummy back.”
Shall we build the castles of sand now?
“Yes!” Jay grinned enthusiastically and started splashing her way back up to the beach. They’d made the discovery together that Haile with her tractamorphic arms was the universe’s best ever builder of sand castles. With Jay directing, they had made some astonishing towers along the shoreline.
Haile emerged from the water in a small explosion of spray. Betterness. You have happiness again.
“So do you. Ione promised to come back for the words.”
It is the best niceness when the three of us play together. She knows this really.
Jay giggled. “She turned purple when you said that. Good job you didn’t say fuck to her.”
The Oenone, ione reflected. Why do I know that name?
Atlantis.
Oh, yes.
And a certain interception in the Puerto de Santa Maria star system. We received an intelligence update from the Confederation Navy last year.
Oh, bloody hell, yes.
Captain Syrinx wishes to talk to you.
Ione sat down in the tube carriage and began towelling her hair. Of course.the affinity contact broadened, allowing Syrinx to proffer her identity trait.
Captain,ione acknowledged.
I apologize for the haste, but please be advised a Confederation Navy squadron will start arriving in another nine minutes and thirty seconds—mark.
I see. Is Tranquillity in danger?
No.
What then?
I am carrying the squadron’s commander, Admiral Meredith Saldana. He requests an interview at which he can explain our full strategic situation to you.
Granted. Welcome to Tranquillity.the captain faded from the affinity band.
She was curious about you,tranquillity said. It was quite plain from her emotional content.
Everybody’s always curious about me.she borrowed the habitat’s external senses to observe local space. They were in Mirchusko’s umbra, with Choisya and Falsia hovering just above the gas giant’s crescent horizon. Apart from the flotilla of blackhawks on patrol around the habitat’s shell, there was little spaceship activity. The Oenone was the first starship to arrive in seventy-six hours. Some MSVs and personnel commuters continued to glide between the counter-rotating spaceport and Tranquillity’s bracelet of industrial stations, but they were running a much reduced flight schedule. A lone dazzle-point of fusion flame was rising up past the drab grey loop of the Ruin Ring, an He3 tanker en route from the habitat’s cloudscoop to the spaceport. Program the squadron’s arrival into the SD platforms,she said. And warn the blackhawks, we don’t want any mistakes.
Naturally.
Meredith Saldana. That’s two family visits in less than a month.
I don’t think this is a family visit.
You’re probably right.
It was a suspicion which was proved unpleasantly correct soon after Syrinx and the admiral were shown into the audience chamber of De Beauvoir Palace. As she listened to Meredith Saldana explain the proposed ambush of Capone’s fleet at Toi-Hoi a swarm of ambiguous feelings lay siege to her mind.
I don’t want to involve us in front line campaigns,she confided to Tranquillity.
To be pedantic, we’re in the campaign, not the front line itself. And the eradication of the Organization fleet is not a strategic opportunity which can be overlooked.
No choice?
No choice.
I still think we’re too important for this.
But safe. The safest place in the Confederation, remember that.
We hope. I’d hate to put that to the test, right now.
I don’t see how it will. Not from this action. We will essentially be a supply and rendezvous base.
“Very well,” she told the admiral. “You have my permission to use Tranquillity for your task force’s port station. I’ll see that you get all the He3 you need.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Meredith said.
“I’m slightly concerned by this flight restriction you wish to place on starships until the ambush, although I do appreciate the logic behind it. I currently have over twenty blackhawks deploying sensor satellites around the orbit where the Laymil home planet used to be. It’s extremely important research work. I’d hate to see it jeopardized.”
“They would only have to be recalled for three or four days at the most,” Syrinx said. “Our scheduling is very tight, here. Surely a small delay wouldn’t effect the research too much?”
“I’ll recall them for now. But if you’re still here after a week, I’ll have to review the policy. As I said, this is part of the effort to find an overall solution. That is not to be regarded lightly.”
“Believe me, we don’t, ma’am,” Meredith said.
She stared at him, trying to work out what was going on behind his blue eyes. But his answering stare offered no clue. “I have to say, I find it ironic that Tranquillity has become so important to the Confederation and the Kingdom after all this time,” she said.
“Ironic or pleasing? Chance has finally brought you the chance to vindicate your grandfather’s actions.”
There was no humour in his tone, which surprised her. She’d assumed he would be more sympathetic than Prince Noton. “You think Grandfather Michael was wrong?”
“I think he was wrong to pursue such an unorthodox course.”
“Unorthodox to the family, perhaps. But I assure you it’s not chance which has brought us together. This whole situation will prove how right he was to act on his foresight.”
“I wish you every success.”
“Thank you. And who knows, one day I might earn your approval, too.”
For the first time, he produced a grudging smile. “You don’t like losing arguments, do you, Cousin Ione?”
“I am a Saldana.”
“That much is painfully obvious.”
“As are you. I don’t think every Confederation admiral would have coped as well as you at Lalonde.”
“I did not cope well. I ensured my squadron survived; most of it, anyway.”
“A Confederation officer’s first duty is to follow orders. Second duty is to the crew. So I believe,” she said. “As your original orders didn’t cover what you encountered, I’d say you did all right.”
“Lalonde was . . . difficult,” he said heavily.
“Yes. I know all about Lalonde from Joshua Calvert.”
Syrinx, who had been looking considerably ill at ease while the two Saldanas conducted their verbal fencing, glanced sharply at Ione, her eyebrows raised in interest.
“Oh, yes,” Meredith reflected. “Lagrange Calvert. Who could forget him?”
“Is he here?” Syrinx asked. “This is his registered port.”
“He’s away at the moment, I’m afraid,” Ione told her. “But I’m expecting him back any day now.”
“Good.”
Ione couldn’t quite fathom the Edenist’s attitude. Why do you think she’s interested in Joshua?
I have no idea. Unless she wants to punch him on the nose for Puerto de Santa Maria.
I doubt it. She’s an Edenist, they don’t do things like that. You don’t suppose she and Joshua . . . ?
I doubt it. She’s an Edenist, they have more taste.
Gravity returned slowly as Gerald drifted through the airlock tube, his shoulder bag in tow. The airlock compartment he landed in was almost identical to the one he had left behind. But it was larger, its technology more discreet, and outside the hatch Choi-Ho and Maxim Payne greeted him with smiles and comforting words where behind Knox and his eldest son had stood guard over their hatch with TIP carbines and scowls.
“There are several cabins available,” Choi-Ho said. “Not enough for everyone, so you’ll probably have to double up.”
Gerald smiled blankly, which came over more as a frightened grimace.
“Pick any one,” she told him kindly.
“When will we get there?” Gerald asked.
“We have a rendezvous in the Kabwe system in eight hours, after that we’ll be going back to Valisk. It should be about twenty hours.”
“Twenty? Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“Twenty.” It was said with deference. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, quite sure.” People were starting to bunch up in the airlock behind him; all of them curiously reluctant to push past. “A cabin,” she suggested hopefully.
“Come on, Gerald, mate,” Beth said breezily. She took his arm and pulled gently. He walked obediently down the corridor with her. He only stopped once, and that was to look over his shoulder and say an earnest, “Thank you,” to an oddly intrigued Choi-Ho.
Beth kept going right to the end of the U-shaped corridor. She thought it would be best to get Gerald a cabin away from the rest of the Deadnights. “Can you believe this place?” she said. She was walking on a deep red carpet past portholes that shone brilliant beams of sunlight into the corridor (although she couldn’t see out through them). The doors were all golden wood. In her usual sweatshirt, two jackets, and baggy jeans she felt uncomfortably out of place.
She peered around a door and found an empty cabin. There were two bunk beds clipped to a wall, and a small sliding door to the bathroom. The plumbing was similar to the toilet in the Leonora Cephei , except this was all heavy brass with small white glazed ceramic buttons.
“This ought to do you,” she said confidently. A quiet pule made her turn around. Gerald was standing just inside the door, his knuckles pressed into his mouth.
“What’s the matter, Gerald?”
“Twenty hours.”
“I know. But that’s good, isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure. I want to be there, to see her again. But she’s not her anymore, not my Marie.”
He was quaking. Beth put an arm around his shoulders and eased him down onto the bottom bunk. “Easy there, Gerald. Once we’re at Valisk, all this is going to seem like a bad dream; honestly, mate.”
“It doesn’t end there, it starts there. And I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to save her. I can’t put her in zero-tau by myself. They’re so strong, and evil.”
“Who, Gerald? Who are you talking about? Who’s Marie?”
“My baby.”
He was crying now, his head pressed into her shoulder. She patted the back of his neck instinctively.
“I don’t know what to do,” he gasped out. “She’s not here to help me.”
“Marie’s not here?”
“No. Loren. She’s the only one that can help me. She’s the only one who can help any of us.”
“It’s all right, Gerald, really, you’ll see.”
The reaction wasn’t what she expected at all. Gerald started a hysterical laugh which was half screams. Beth wanted to let go and get out of the cabin fast. He’d flipped, totally flipped now. The only reason she kept hold of him was because she didn’t know what would happen if she didn’t. He might get worse.
“Please, Gerald,” she begged. “You’re frightening me.”
He grabbed both of her shoulders, squeezing hard enough to make her flinch. “Good!” His face had reddened with anger. “You should be frightened, you stupid, stupid little girl. Don’t you understand where we’re going?”
“We’re going to Valisk,” Beth whispered.
“Yes, Valisk. That doesn’t frighten me, I’m bloody terrified. They’re going to torture us, hurt you so bad you’ll beg a soul to possess you and stop them. I know they will. That’s all they ever do. They did it to me before, and then Dr Dobbs made me go through it again, and again and again just so he could know what it was like.” The anger drained out of him, and he sagged forwards into her awkward embrace. “I’ll kill myself. Yes. Maybe that’s it. I can help Marie that way. I’m sure I can. Anything’s better than possession again.”
Beth started rocking him as best she could, soothing him as she would any five-year-old who’d woken from a nightmare. The things he was saying plagued her badly. After all, they only had Kiera’s word that she was building a fresh society for them. One recording that promised she was different from the rest. “Gerald?” she asked after a while. “Who’s this Marie you want to help?”
“My daughter.”
“Oh. I see. Well how do you know she’s at Valisk?”
“Because she’s the one Kiera’s possessing.”
Rocio Condra parted his beak in what passed for a smile. The sensor in Skibbow’s cabin wasn’t the best, and his affinity link with its bitek processor suffered annoying dropouts. But what had been said was plain enough.
He wasn’t entirely sure how he could use the knowledge, but it was the first sign of any possible chink in Kiera’s armour. That was a start.
Stephanie could finally see the end of the red cloud cover. The heavy ceiling had been dropping closer to the ground for some time now as the convoy drove unimpeded along the M6. Individual clumps and streamers churned against each other in a motion reminiscent of waves crashing on rocks, bright slivers of pink and gold rippled among the distorted underbelly. They acted like a conductor for a current of pure agitation. The will of the possessed was being thwarted, their shield against the sky arrested by the Kingdom’s firebreak.
The cliff of white light sleeting down along the boisterous edge appeared almost solid. Certainly it took her eyes a while to acclimatize, slowly resolving the grainy shadows which crouched at the end of the road.
“I think it might be a good idea to slow down now,” Moyo said in her ear.
She applied the brakes, reducing their speed to a crawl. The other three buses behind matched her caution. Two hundred metres from the flexing curtain of sunlight she stopped altogether. The cloud base was only four or five hundred metres high here, hammering on the invisible boundary in perpetual ferment.
Two sets of bright orange barriers had been erected across the road. The first was under the edge of the cloud, sometimes bathed in red light, sometimes in white; the second was three hundred metres north, guarded by a squad of Royal Marines. Behind them, several dozen military vehicles were drawn up on the hard shoulder, armoured troop transports, ground tanks, general communications vehicles, lorries, a canteen, and several field headquarters caravans.
Stephanie opened the bus doors and stepped down onto the road. The thunder was an aggressive growl here, warning outsiders to keep back.
“What did they do to the grass?” Moyo shouted. Just inside the line of sunlight, the grass was dead, its blades blackened and desiccated. Already it was crumbling into dust. The dead zone lay parallel to the border of the red cloud as far as the eye could see, forming a rigid stripe that cut cleanly across every contour.
Stephanie looked along the broad swath of destruction, trees and bushes had been burned to charcoal stumps. “Some kind of no-man’s-land, I suppose.”
“That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?”
She laughed, and pointed up at the glowing cloud.
“Okay, you got a point. What do you want to do next?”
“I’m not sure.” She resented her indecision immediately. This was the culmination of enormous emotional investment. For all that, the practicalities of the moment had been ignored. I almost wish we were still travelling, it gave me such a sense of satisfaction. What have we got after this?
Cochrane, McPhee, and Rana joined them.
“Some terminally unfriendly looking dudes we have here,” Cochrane yelled above the thunder. The marines lining the barrier were motionless, while more were hurrying from the cluster of vehicles to reinforce them.
“I’d better go and talk to them,” Stephanie said.
“Not alone?” Moyo protested.
“I’ll look a lot less threatening than a delegation.” A white handkerchief sprouted from Stephanie’s hand; she held it up high and clambered over the first set of barriers.
Lieutenant Anver watched her coming and gave his squad their deployment assignments, sending half of them out to flank the road and watch for any other possessed trying to sneak over, not that they’d ever get past the satellites. His helmet sensors zoomed in for a close-up on the woman’s face. She was squinting uncomfortably at the light as she emerged from under the dappled shadow of the red cloud. A pair of sunglasses materialized on her face.
“Definitely possessed, sir,” he datavised to Colonel Palmer.
“We see that, thank you, Anver,” the colonel replied. “Be advised, the security committee is accessing your datavise now.”
“Sir.”
“There’s no other activity along the firebreak,” Admiral Farquar datavised. “We don’t think she’s a diversion.”
“Go see what she wants, Anver,” Colonel Palmer ordered. “And be very careful.”
“Yes, sir.”
Two of his squad slid a section of the barrier aside, and he stepped forwards. For all that it was only a hundred-metre walk, it lasted half of his life. He spent the time trying to think what to say to her, but when they stopped a few paces from each other, all he said was: “What do you want?”
She lowered her hand with the handkerchief and gave him a cautious smile. “We brought some children out. They’re in the buses back there. I, um . . . wanted to tell you so you wouldn’t . . . you know.” The smile became one of embarrassment. “We weren’t sure how you’d react.”
“Children?”
“Yes. About seventy. I don’t know the exact number, I never actually counted.”
“Does she mean non-possessed?” Admiral Farquar datavised.
“Are these children possessed?”
“Of course not,” Stephanie said indignantly. “What do you think we are?”
“Lieutenant Anver, this is Princess Kirsten.”
Anver stiffened noticeably. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Ask her what she wants, what the deal is.”
“What do you want for them?”
Stephanie’s lips tightened in anger. “I don’t want anything. Not in return, they’re just children. What I’d like is an assurance that you military types aren’t going to shoot them when we send them over.”
“Oh, dear,” Princess Kirsten datavised. “Apologize to her, Lieutenant, on my behalf, please. And tell her that we’re very grateful to her and those with her for bringing the children back to us.”
Anver cleared his throat, this wasn’t quite what he expected when he started his lonely walk out here. “I’m very sorry, ma’am. The Princess sends her apologies for assuming the worst. We’re very grateful to you for what you’ve done.”
“I understand. This isn’t easy for me, either. Now, how do you want to handle this?”
Twelve Royal Marines came back to the buses with her; volunteers, without their armour suits and weapons. The bus doors were opened, and the children came down. There were a lot of tears and running around in confusion. Most of them wanted a last kiss and a hug from the adults who had rescued them (Cochrane was especially popular), much to the amazement of the marines.
Stephanie found herself almost in tears as the last batch started off down the broad road, clustering around the big marine; one of them was even being given a piggyback. Moyo’s arm was around her shoulders to hold her tight.
Lieutenant Anver came over to stand in front of her and saluted perfectly (to which Cochrane managed a quite obscene parody). He looked badly troubled. “Thank you again, all of you,” he said. “That’s me saying it, I can’t datavise under the cloud.”
“Oh, do take care of the little darlings,” Tina said, sniffing hard. “Poor Analeese has the most dreadful cold, none of us could cure her. And Ryder hates nuts; I think he’s got an allergy, and—” She fell silent as Rana squeezed her forearm.
“We’ll take care of them,” Lieutenant Anver said gravely. “And you, you take care of yourselves.” He glanced pointedly out to the firebreak where a procession of vehicles was massing around the barrier to greet the children. “You might want to do that away from here.” A crisp nod at Stephanie, and he was walking back towards the barrier.
“What did he mean?” Tina asked querulously.
“Wowee.” Cochrane let out a long breath. “We like did it , man, we showed the forces of bad vibes not to mess with us.”
Moyo kissed Stephanie. “I’m very proud of you.”
“Ugh,” Cochrane exclaimed. “Don’t you two cats ever stop?”
A smiling Stephanie leaned forwards and kissed him on his forehead, getting hair caught on her lips. “Thank you, too.”
“Will somebody tell me what he meant,” Tina said. “Please.”
“Nothing good,” McPhee said. “That’s a fact.”
“So now what do we do?” Rana asked. “Go round up another group of kids? Or split up? Or settle that farm we talked about? What?”
“Oh, stay together, definitely,” Tina said. “After everything we’ve done I couldn’t bear losing any of you, you’re my family now.”
“Family. That’s cosmic, sister. So like what’s your position on incest?”
“I don’t know what we’ll decide,” Stephanie said. “But I think we should take the lieutenant’s advice, and do it a long way away from here.”
The spaceplane rose out of Nyvan’s stratosphere on twin plumes of plasma flame, arching up towards its orbital injection coordinate a thousand kilometres ahead. Submunitions were still peppering space with explosions and decoy flares, while electronic warfare drones blasted gigawatt pulses at any emission they could detect. Now its reaction drive rockets were on, the spaceplane was no longer invisible to the residuals of the combat wasp battle.
Lady Macbeth flew cover a hundred kilometres above it, sensors and maser cannon deployed to strike any missile which acquired lock-on. The starship had to make continual adjustments to its flight vector to keep the spaceplane within its protective radius. Joshua watched its drive flaring, reducing velocity, accelerating, switching altitude. Five times its masers fired to destroy incoming submunitions.
By the time the spaceplane had reached orbit and was manoeuvring to dock, the sky above Nyvan had calmed considerably. Only three other starships were visible to Lady Mac ’s sensors, all of them were frigates belonging to local defence forces. None of them seemed interested in Lady Mac , or even each other. Beaulieu began a thorough sensor sweep, alert for the inevitable chaotic showers of post-explosion debris which would make low orbit hazardous for some time to come. Some of the returns were odd, making her redefine the sweep’s parameters. Lady Mac ’s sensors shifted their focus away from the planet itself.
Joshua slid cleanly through the hatchway into the bridge. His clothes had dried out in the hot air of the spaceplane’s cabin, but the dirt and stains remained. Dahybi’s ship-suit was in a similar state.
Sarha gave him an apprehensive glance. “Melvyn?” she asked quietly.
“Not a chance. Sorry.”
“Bugger.”
“You two did a good job up here,” Joshua said. “Well done, that was some fine piloting to stay above the spaceplane.”
“Thanks, Josh.”
Joshua looked from Liol, who was anchored to a stikpad by the captain’s acceleration couch, to Sarha, whose expression was utterly unrepentant.
“Oh, Jesus, you gave him the access codes.”
“Yes, I did. My command decision. There was a war up here, Joshua.”
It wasn’t, he decided, worth making an issue out of, not in view of everything else that was happening. “That’s why I left you in charge,” he said. “I had confidence in you, Sarha.”
She frowned suspiciously. He sounded sincere. “So you got Mzu, then. I hope it was worth it.”
“For the Confederation I suppose it is. For individuals . . . you’d have to ask them. But then individuals have been dying because of her for some time now.”
“Captain, please access our sensor suite,” Beaulieu said.
“Right.” He rolled in midair, and landed on his acceleration couch. The images from the external sensor clusters expanded into his mind. Wrong. They had to be wrong. “Jesus wept!” His brain was already acting in conjunction with the flight computer’s astrogration program to plot a vector before he’d fully admitted the reality of the tide of rock descending on the planet. “Prepare for acceleration, thirty seconds—mark. We have to leave.” A fast internal sensor check showed him his new passengers hurrying towards couches; images superimposed with purple and yellow trajectory plots that wriggled frantically as he refined their projected trajectory.
“Who did that?” he asked.
“No idea,” Sarha said. “It happened during the battle, we didn’t even know until afterwards. But it sure as hell wasn’t random combat wasp strikes.”
“I’ll monitor the drive tubes,” Joshua said. “Sarha, take systems coverage, please. Liol, you’ve got fire control.”
“Aye, Captain,” Liol said.
It was a strictly neutral tone. Joshua was satisfied with that. He triggered Lady Mac ’s fusion drives, bringing them up to a three-gee acceleration.
“Where are we going?” Liol asked.
“Bloody good question,” Joshua said. “For now I just want us out of here. After that, it rather depends on what Ione and the agents decide, I expect.”
There must be someone who knows. One of you.
We know it is real. We know it is hidden.
Two bodies await. A male and a female. Youthful, splendid. Do you hear them? Do you taste them? Pleading for one of you to enter them. You can. All the riches and pleasures of reality can be yours again. If you have the admission price, one tiny piece of information. That’s all.
She didn’t hide it by herself. She had help from somebody. Probably many. Were you one?
Ah. Yes. You. You are being truthful. You know.
Come then. Come forwards, come through. We reward you with—
He cried out in wonder and misery as he struggled his way into the victim’s agonized nervous system. There was pain, and shame, and humiliation to cope with; tragic, terrible pleas from the body’s true soul. One by one, he faced them down, mending the broken flesh, suppressing and ignoring the protest, until there was only his own shame left. Not so easily abandoned.
“Welcome to the Organization,” said Oscar Kearn. “So, you were part of Mzu’s mission?”
“Yes. I was with her.”
“Good. She’s a clever woman, that Mzu. I’m afraid she’s eluded us once again, thanks to that traitor bitch Barnes. Even so, only the amazingly resourceful can duck an ironberg when it’s falling on their heads. I didn’t realize what I was dealing with before. I don’t suppose she would have helped us even if we had caught her. She’s like that, tough and determined. But now her luck’s run out. You can tell me, can’t you? You know where the Alchemist is.”
“Yes,” Ikela said. “I know where it is.”
Alkad Mzu floated into the bridge, accompanied by Monica and Samuel. She acknowledged Joshua with a small twitch of her lips, then blinked when she saw Liol. “I didn’t know there were two of you.”
Liol grinned broadly.
“Before we all start arguing over what to do with you, Doctor,” a serjeant said. “I’d like you to confirm the Alchemist does or did exist.”
Alkad tapped her toe on a stikpad beside the captain’s couch, preventing herself from drifting about. “Yes, it exists. And I built it. I wish to Mary I hadn’t, now, but the past is past. My only concern now is that it doesn’t fall into anybody’s hands, not yours, and certainly not the possessed.”
“Very noble,” Sarha said, “from someone who was going to use it to kill an entire planet.”
“They wouldn’t have been killed,” Alkad said wearily. “It was intended to extinguish Omuta’s star, not turn it nova. I’m not an Omutan barbarian; they’re the ones who kill entire worlds.”
“Extinguish a star?” Samuel mused in puzzlement.
“Please don’t ask for details.”
“I propose Dr Mzu is taken back to Tranquillity,” the serjeant said. “We can formalize the observation to insure she doesn’t pass the information on. I don’t think you will anyway, Doctor, but intelligence agencies are highly suspicious entities.”
Monica consulted Samuel. “I can live with that,” she said. “Tranquillity is neutral territory. It isn’t all that different to our original agreement.”
“It isn’t,” Samuel agreed. “But, Doctor, you do realize you cannot be allowed to die. Certainly not until the problem of possession has been resolved.”
“Fine by me,” Alkad said.
“What I mean, Doctor, is that when you are very old, you must be placed in zero-tau to prevent your soul from entering the beyond.”
“I will not give anyone the Alchemist technology, no matter what the circumstances.”
“I’m sure that is your intention at the moment. But how will you feel after a hundred years trapped in the beyond? A thousand? And to be indelicate, the choice is not yours to make. It is ours. You lost the right to self-determination when you built the Alchemist. If you give yourself enough power to make a galaxy fear you and what you can achieve, you abrogate that right to those whom your actions affect.”
“I agree,” the serjeant said. “You will be placed in zero-tau before you die.”
“Why not just put me in now?” Alkad said crustily.
“Don’t tempt me,” Monica said. “I know the kind of contempt you moron intellectuals hold the government services in. Well listen good, Doctor, we exist to protect the majority so they can run around living their lives as decently and as best they can. We protect them from shits like you, who never fucking stop to think what you’re doing.”
“You didn’t protect my bloody planet, did you!” Alkad yelled back. “And don’t you dare lecture me on responsibility. I’m prepared to die to stop the Alchemist being used by anybody else, especially your imperialist Kingdom. I know my responsibilities.”
“You do now. Now you realize what a mistake you made, now people are dying just to keep your precious arse safe.”
“Okay, that’s it,” Joshua said loudly. “We’re all agreed where the doc is going, end of discussion. Nobody is going to start shouting about moral philosophy on my bridge. We’re all tired, we’re all emotional. Pack it in, the pair of you. I’m going to plot a course to Tranquillity, you go to your cabins and cool off. We’ll be home inside of two days.”
“Understood,” Monica said through clenched teeth. “And . . . thank you for getting us off. It was—”
“Professional?”
She almost snapped back at him, but that grin . . . “Professional.”
Alkad cleared her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said apologetically. “But there is a problem. We can’t go straight back to Tranquillity.”
Joshua massaged his temple and asked: “Why not?” if only to stop Monica from flying at Mzu’s throat.
“The Alchemist itself.”
“What about it?” Samuel asked.
“We have to collect it.”
“All right,” Joshua said in a far-from-reasonable tone. “Why?”
“Because it isn’t secure where it is.”
“It’s managed to stay secure for thirty years. Jesus, just take the secret of its location to zero-tau with you. If the agencies haven’t found it by now, they never will.”
“They won’t have to look anymore, nor will the possessed, especially if our current situation continues for more than a few years.”
“Go on, we may as well hear it all.”
“There were three ships on our strike mission against Omuta,” Alkad said. “The Beezling , the Chengho , and the Gombari. Beezling was the Alchemist’s deployment vessel, I was on board; the other two were our escort frigates. We were intercepted by blackhawks before we could deploy the Alchemist. They destroyed the Gombari , and hit us and the Chengho pretty badly. We were left for dead in interstellar space. Neither of us could jump, and the nearest inhabited star was seven light-years away.
“After the attack, we spent a couple of days repairing our internal systems, then we rendezvoused. It was Ikela and Captain Prager who came up with the eventual solution. Chengho was smaller than Beezling , it didn’t need as many energy patterning nodes to perform a ZTT jump. So the crew removed some of the Beezling ’s intact nodes and installed them in the Chengho . We didn’t have the proper tools for that kind of job; and then the nodes had different power ratings and performance factors, they had to be completely reprogrammed. It took us three and a half weeks, but we did it. We rebuilt ourselves a ship that could make a ZTT jump—not very well, and not very far, but it was functional. That was when things started to get difficult. The Chengho was too small to take both crews, even for just a small jump. There was only one life-support capsule, and it could hold eight of us at a push. We knew we couldn’t risk a flight back to Garissa, the nodes would never last that long, and we guessed that Omuta would have launched some kind of big attack by then. After all, that’s why we’d been dispatched in the first place, to stop them. So we jumped to the nearest inhabited star system, Crotone. The idea was that we’d charter a ship and get back to Garissa that way. Of course, when we arrived at Crotone, we heard about the genocide.
“Ikela and Prager had even formulated a worst case option. Just in case, they said. We’d brought some antimatter with us on the Chengho ; if we sold that together with the frigate it would fetch millions. Assuming the Garissan government no longer existed, we would have all the money we needed to operate independently for decades.”
“The Stromboli Separatist Council,” Samuel said suddenly.
“Right,” Alkad acknowledged. “That’s who we sold it to.”
“Ah, we never did find out how they got their antimatter. They blew up two of Crotone’s low-orbit port stations with the stuff.”
“After we left, yes,” Alkad said.
“So Ikela took the money and founded T’Opingtu.”
“Correct; once we found out that the Confederation Assembly granted the Dorados to the survivors of the genocide, all seven navy officers were given an equal share. The plan was for them to invest the money in various companies, the profits from which would be used to help fund the partizans. We needed committed nationalists to crew the ship that they were supposed to prepare for me. After that, they would buy or charter a combat-capable starship to complete the Alchemist mission. As you know, Ikela didn’t fulfill the last part of the plan. I don’t know about the others.”
“Why wait thirty years?” Joshua asked. “Why didn’t you just hire a combat-capable starship as soon as you had the money from the sale of the frigate, and go straight back to the Beezling ?”
“Because we couldn’t be sure exactly where it was. You see, we didn’t just repair the Chengho . There were thirty people and the Alchemist left behind on the Beezling . Suppose the Chengho didn’t make it, or suppose we were caught and interrogated by the CNIS or some other agency? There was even the possibility the blackhawks might return. We had to plan for all those factors as well, the remaining crew had to be given their chance, too.”
“They went into zero-tau,” Joshua said. “How does that prevent you from knowing the exact coordinate?”
“Yes, obviously they went into zero-tau, but that’s not all. We also repaired their reaction drive. They flew a vector to an uninhabited star which was only two and a half light-years away.”
“Jesus, a sub-lightspeed journey through interstellar space? You’ve got to be kidding. That’s impossible, it would take—”
“Twenty-eight years, we estimated.”
“Ah!” Realization came to Joshua like the silent detonation of Norfolk Tears after it hit the stomach. He felt a surge of admiration for those lost desperate crews of thirty years ago. Not caring what the odds were, just going for it. “They used antimatter propulsion.”
“Yes. We transferred every gram from our remaining combat wasps into the Beezling ’s confinement chambers. It was enough to accelerate them up to about nine per cent lightspeed. So now tell me, Captain, how difficult would it be to locate a ship that is moving away from its last known coordinate at eight or nine per cent lightspeed? And if you did find it, how would you rendezvous?”
“Not possible. Okay, you have to wait until the Beezling decelerated and arrived at that uninhabited star. How come you didn’t make a dash for them two years ago?”
“Because we weren’t sure just how efficient the drive would be over such a long period of use. Two years gave us an adequate safety margin; and of course as it turned out, the sanctions would be over. There was always a remote chance the Confederation Navy blockade squadron would detect us, after all it’s their job to be looking for sanction-buster starships emerging in odd places around Omuta. So after we sold the Chengho we decided on thirty years.”
“You mean the Beezling is just orbiting that star waiting for you to make contact?” Liol asked.
“Yes. Providing everything worked as it was supposed to. They are supposed to wait for another five years; the time is irrelevant in zero-tau, but the support systems cannot last indefinitely. If they hadn’t been contacted by then, either by myself and the Chengho crew, or the Garissan government, they were to destroy the Alchemist and start signalling for help. Uninhabited star systems within the Confederation boundaries are inspected on a regular basis by navy patrol ships to make sure they aren’t being used by antimatter production stations. They would have been rescued eventually.”
Joshua glanced around to the serjeant, wishing the construct had some way of displaying emotion; he’d like to know what Ione made of the story. “Makes sense,” he said. “What do you want to do?”
“We have to see if the Beezling completed its journey,” the serjeant said.
“And if it has?” Samuel asked.
“Then the Alchemist must be destroyed. After that, any surviving crew will be taken back to Tranquillity.”
“Question, Doc,” Joshua said. “If anybody sees the Alchemist, will that give them a clue to its nature?”
“No. You have no worries on that score, Captain. There is however someone among the crew who could tell you how to build another. His name is Peter Adul, he will have to remain in Tranquillity with me. After that, you will be safe again.”
“Okay, what’s the star’s coordinate?”
It was a long time before Alkad said: “Mother Mary, this is not what was meant to be.”
“Nothing ever is, Doc. I learned that long ago.”
“Ha! You’re too young.”
“Depends how you fill the years, doesn’t it?”
Alkad Mzu datavised the coordinate over.
A wormhole terminus is opening,tranquillity announced.
At the time, Ione was standing knee deep in the warm water of the cove, rubbing Haile’s flank with a big yellow bath sponge. She straightened her back and began wringing out the sponge. Her real attention was focused on a point in space a hundred and twenty thousand kilometres away from the habitat where the vacuum’s gravity density was building rapidly. Three SD platforms orbiting the emergence zone locked their X-ray lasers on to the terminus as it expanded. Five patrol blackhawks accelerated in at four gees.
A large voidhawk slipped out of the two-dimensional rent. Oenone , Confederation Navy ship SLV-66150, requesting approach and docking permission,it said. Our official flight authentication code follows.
Granted,tranquillity replied after it verified the code. The SD platforms were switched back to alert status. Three of the blackhawks resumed their patrol, while the remaining two curved around to form an escort as Oenone accelerated in towards the habitat.
“I’m going to have to leave you,” Ione said.
Jay Hilton’s vexed face peeped over the top of Haile’s gleaming white back. “What is it this time?” she asked petulantly.
“Affairs of state.” Ione started wading towards the shore. She scooped some water up and tried to flush the sand out of her bikini top.
“You always say that.”
Ione gave the disgruntled girl a forlorn smile. “Because it always is, these days.” Sorry, she added.
Haile formshifted the tip of an arm into a human hand and waved. Goodbye, Ione Saldana. I have much sorrow you are leaving, my endlegs itch like hell.
Haile!
I form a communication wrongness? I have shame.
Not wrong, exactly.
Gladness. That was a Joshua Calvert expression. Much favoured.
Ione snapped her teeth together. That bloody Calvert! Anger gave way to something more confusing, a sort of resentment . . . possibly. Hundreds of light-years away, and he still intrudes. It would be. Please don’t use it around Jay.
Understanding is me. I have a great many human emphasis phrases conveyed by Joshua Calvert.
I’ll bet you have.
I want properness in my communication. I ask your assistance in reviewing my word collection. You may edit me.
Yes, all right.
Much gladness!
Ione took another pace, then laughed. Reviewing everything Joshua had said to the young Kiint would take hours. Hours she hadn’t been spending on the beach of late. Haile was becoming very crafty.
Jay leaned against her friend, watching Ione put her sandals on and start back up the path to the tube station. There was a slightly distracted expression on the woman’s face, that Jay knew meant she was busy talking to the habitat personality. She didn’t like to dwell on the topic. More than likely, it would be the possessed again. That was all the adults talked about these days, and it was never reassuring talk.
Haile’s arm twined around Jay’s, the tip stroking her gently.
You taste of sadness.
“I don’t think these horrible possessed will ever go away.”
They will. Humans are clever. You will find a way.
“I hope so. I do want Mummy back.”
Shall we build the castles of sand now?
“Yes!” Jay grinned enthusiastically and started splashing her way back up to the beach. They’d made the discovery together that Haile with her tractamorphic arms was the universe’s best ever builder of sand castles. With Jay directing, they had made some astonishing towers along the shoreline.
Haile emerged from the water in a small explosion of spray. Betterness. You have happiness again.
“So do you. Ione promised to come back for the words.”
It is the best niceness when the three of us play together. She knows this really.
Jay giggled. “She turned purple when you said that. Good job you didn’t say fuck to her.”
The Oenone, ione reflected. Why do I know that name?
Atlantis.
Oh, yes.
And a certain interception in the Puerto de Santa Maria star system. We received an intelligence update from the Confederation Navy last year.
Oh, bloody hell, yes.
Captain Syrinx wishes to talk to you.
Ione sat down in the tube carriage and began towelling her hair. Of course.the affinity contact broadened, allowing Syrinx to proffer her identity trait.
Captain,ione acknowledged.
I apologize for the haste, but please be advised a Confederation Navy squadron will start arriving in another nine minutes and thirty seconds—mark.
I see. Is Tranquillity in danger?
No.
What then?
I am carrying the squadron’s commander, Admiral Meredith Saldana. He requests an interview at which he can explain our full strategic situation to you.
Granted. Welcome to Tranquillity.the captain faded from the affinity band.
She was curious about you,tranquillity said. It was quite plain from her emotional content.
Everybody’s always curious about me.she borrowed the habitat’s external senses to observe local space. They were in Mirchusko’s umbra, with Choisya and Falsia hovering just above the gas giant’s crescent horizon. Apart from the flotilla of blackhawks on patrol around the habitat’s shell, there was little spaceship activity. The Oenone was the first starship to arrive in seventy-six hours. Some MSVs and personnel commuters continued to glide between the counter-rotating spaceport and Tranquillity’s bracelet of industrial stations, but they were running a much reduced flight schedule. A lone dazzle-point of fusion flame was rising up past the drab grey loop of the Ruin Ring, an He3 tanker en route from the habitat’s cloudscoop to the spaceport. Program the squadron’s arrival into the SD platforms,she said. And warn the blackhawks, we don’t want any mistakes.
Naturally.
Meredith Saldana. That’s two family visits in less than a month.
I don’t think this is a family visit.
You’re probably right.
It was a suspicion which was proved unpleasantly correct soon after Syrinx and the admiral were shown into the audience chamber of De Beauvoir Palace. As she listened to Meredith Saldana explain the proposed ambush of Capone’s fleet at Toi-Hoi a swarm of ambiguous feelings lay siege to her mind.
I don’t want to involve us in front line campaigns,she confided to Tranquillity.
To be pedantic, we’re in the campaign, not the front line itself. And the eradication of the Organization fleet is not a strategic opportunity which can be overlooked.
No choice?
No choice.
I still think we’re too important for this.
But safe. The safest place in the Confederation, remember that.
We hope. I’d hate to put that to the test, right now.
I don’t see how it will. Not from this action. We will essentially be a supply and rendezvous base.
“Very well,” she told the admiral. “You have my permission to use Tranquillity for your task force’s port station. I’ll see that you get all the He3 you need.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Meredith said.
“I’m slightly concerned by this flight restriction you wish to place on starships until the ambush, although I do appreciate the logic behind it. I currently have over twenty blackhawks deploying sensor satellites around the orbit where the Laymil home planet used to be. It’s extremely important research work. I’d hate to see it jeopardized.”
“They would only have to be recalled for three or four days at the most,” Syrinx said. “Our scheduling is very tight, here. Surely a small delay wouldn’t effect the research too much?”
“I’ll recall them for now. But if you’re still here after a week, I’ll have to review the policy. As I said, this is part of the effort to find an overall solution. That is not to be regarded lightly.”
“Believe me, we don’t, ma’am,” Meredith said.
She stared at him, trying to work out what was going on behind his blue eyes. But his answering stare offered no clue. “I have to say, I find it ironic that Tranquillity has become so important to the Confederation and the Kingdom after all this time,” she said.
“Ironic or pleasing? Chance has finally brought you the chance to vindicate your grandfather’s actions.”
There was no humour in his tone, which surprised her. She’d assumed he would be more sympathetic than Prince Noton. “You think Grandfather Michael was wrong?”
“I think he was wrong to pursue such an unorthodox course.”
“Unorthodox to the family, perhaps. But I assure you it’s not chance which has brought us together. This whole situation will prove how right he was to act on his foresight.”
“I wish you every success.”
“Thank you. And who knows, one day I might earn your approval, too.”
For the first time, he produced a grudging smile. “You don’t like losing arguments, do you, Cousin Ione?”
“I am a Saldana.”
“That much is painfully obvious.”
“As are you. I don’t think every Confederation admiral would have coped as well as you at Lalonde.”
“I did not cope well. I ensured my squadron survived; most of it, anyway.”
“A Confederation officer’s first duty is to follow orders. Second duty is to the crew. So I believe,” she said. “As your original orders didn’t cover what you encountered, I’d say you did all right.”
“Lalonde was . . . difficult,” he said heavily.
“Yes. I know all about Lalonde from Joshua Calvert.”
Syrinx, who had been looking considerably ill at ease while the two Saldanas conducted their verbal fencing, glanced sharply at Ione, her eyebrows raised in interest.
“Oh, yes,” Meredith reflected. “Lagrange Calvert. Who could forget him?”
“Is he here?” Syrinx asked. “This is his registered port.”
“He’s away at the moment, I’m afraid,” Ione told her. “But I’m expecting him back any day now.”
“Good.”
Ione couldn’t quite fathom the Edenist’s attitude. Why do you think she’s interested in Joshua?
I have no idea. Unless she wants to punch him on the nose for Puerto de Santa Maria.
I doubt it. She’s an Edenist, they don’t do things like that. You don’t suppose she and Joshua . . . ?
I doubt it. She’s an Edenist, they have more taste.