by Jay Allan
“Stay put, Sy…we’re on our way.” She turned and exchanged a quick glance with Vig, who looked just as relieved as she was.
And as edgy, looking up at the building as she had been doing every few seconds…and likely trying to ignore the bits and pieces of masonry and twisted metal dropping down as the drill bored its way deeper.
“Keep that thing steady, Vig. I think we’re cutting through a stable section here.” You hope it’s a stable section…
“I’ve got it, Andi. I think we’re almost through. With any luck, we won’t have to do anymore cutting after this.” Vig did a good job of making pure conjecture sound like reasoned analysis. It was an endearing quality, at least in moments like the current one.
Andi nodded. She wasn’t sure there was any factual reason for such optimism, but she decided to go with it. The thrill of discovering that her friends were still alive had buoyed her spirits, driven back her usually dark view of things.
She watched as Vig continued to drill. The seconds, then minutes, began to wear down her optimism…as did the continued cascade of rubble sliding down the jagged wall above her. The idea of defeating the imperial bots and finding her friends alive, only for them all to end up buried under the rubble of the very building they’d come so far to find, fit in with her view of the universe with disconcerting ease.
“I think we’re through, Andi.”
Vig’s words were a lifeline to her, and once again the darkness and pessimism were driven back. She leaned forward, looking toward the end of the drill. There was an opening, no more than a quarter of a meter so far, but it was clear there was an open area beyond.
“Alright, Vig…let’s keep it easy…” It took all she had not urge her friend once again to drill faster.
The opening widened slowly, until it was nearly a meter in circumference. Vig pulled the drill back, and he started to say something about remaining cautious, but Andi was already crawling through.
She dragged her leg across a jagged section of the opening, wincing as she heard the chunk of metal rip open the front of her pants…and felt it dig into the flesh below. She pulled back, rolling over slowly as she tumbled through the opening and onto the hard, debris-strewn floor beyond.
Her hands moved to her leg. She could feel the blood, warm and wet, but when she looked down, the injury was less serious than she’d feared. The cut was at least ten centimeters long, but it wasn’t deep at all. Her reactions had saved her from worse, and she resolved on a simple medical expedient. To simply ignore the wound.
Barely a scratch…
That wasn’t true, of course, and she knew she should stop and at least bandage it up. But her friends were somewhere in the ruins of the building, and just maybe they had the secrets she had come so far to find. There would be time for such luxuries as first aid. Later.
She pulled herself up to her feet, gritting her teeth as she struggled to ignore the pain in her leg…and in a dozen other places. She could hear Vig coming through behind her, but her eyes were focused ahead, into the darkness of the building’s interior. She was about to curse herself for not bringing a light with her when illumination appeared almost in response to her frustration. She glanced back and saw Vig holding a lantern, angling it forward, throwing as much light into the building’s interior as possible.
At least one of us was prepared…
She climbed over a pile of debris, moving deeper in. She could hear Vig right behind her, bringing the light forward as she pressed on.
“Sy? Ellia?” Andi called out, her voice somewhat hushed. She didn’t really think a shout was going to bring the building down—at least not unless it was going to collapse anyway—but she held it back nevertheless.
“Andi?” Sy’s voice.
“Sy? I can hear you…we’re on the way.” She pushed forward, reaching out, grabbing hold of a vertical girder as she climbed over another pile of rubble.
“We’re over here, Andi.”
The voice was close. Andi could feel her excitement growing…even as a small cascade of debris fell almost directly in front of her. She looked up, and for an instant she thought the building was going to come down. But it held.
“Sy…”
“Here, Andi…”
Andi stumbled forward, toward an opening in the wall ahead. Her eyes caught something. She wasn’t sure at first, but then she realized.
Light.
She headed to the opening, and even as she did, the light moved…and Sy came stumbling through the doorway.
“Sy!” Andi’s excitement almost took her, but she restrained herself. She walked forward, cautiously, throwing her arms around her friend, even as she saw Ellia step through next, and the rest of the team after her. “I’m so glad we found you.” She tightened her arms, hugging her old companion for a few more seconds.
Then Sy stepped back, and the smile slipped from her face. “Andi…”
Andi could tell something was wrong. Her eyes darted around frantically, but nobody seemed to be missing or seriously injured. “What is it, Sy?”
“We had it, Andi. I know how the empire defeated the Highborn.” Her voice was dark, somber. Clearly, there was more to the story than just that.
“You found it?”
“We found out how, Andi, at least partly. It was a biological weapon, a genetic one.” Sy paused, looking at Andi as her eyes welled up with tears. “We had it, Andi…the formula, the complete data on how it worked, how to produce it…everything.”
Andi felt her stomach clench.
“It was in a database I had just managed to access…I was almost in, ready to copy it all…”
Andi could hear her friend’s words even before she spoke them. She just stood there and closed her eyes as Sy continued.
“It was destroyed, Andi…in the collapse. The whole thing…obliterated. There’s no way we can get to the wreckage, and even if we could…imperial tech is difficult enough. I could never extract anything from something so damaged.”
There was silence, broken for perhaps half a minute only by the sounds of pebble-sized debris falling from the ceiling. Then, Sy spoke again.
“We had it, Andi. We had it in our grasp…and we lost it.”
* * *
The despair had been immediate…and all consuming. But it hadn’t lasted, at least not at full force. What seemed like utter defeat had been quickly replaced by thin strands of hope. What had been an end to Andi’s quest proved to be just another step.
“There were two remote bases, located out where the Highborn couldn’t find them. That is where the weapon was actually developed before it was brought here and used by the imperials. The Badlands, Andi…the bases were in the Badlands…or at least in the space your people have come to call the Badlands. One was a planet called Aquellus…” Ellia was speaking, the Hegemony master clearly struggling to sound optimistic.
Andi felt her heart sink, the fragile spark of hope that had flared in her extinguished. She had been to Aquellus. She’d almost died on the ocean planet, and she’d lost several of her friends there.
She’d also seen the base on that world utterly obliterated when the Sector Nine operatives she’d been facing had released the antimatter stored there.
Aquellus had been where she’d found the folio that had begun her efforts to understand the Highborn, the start of the trail that had led her all the way to Pintarus.
I was there. The answer was there, right in front of me…and I left without it…
She felt the withering blast of self-recrimination, even as she knew it wasn’t fair. She’d had no idea then that the Highborn even existed. She hadn’t even known Tyler Barron yet, and the idea that she’d be struggling to aid the fleet that had always hunted her kind would have seemed preposterous.
Still, she’d been so close…
“Aquellus was destroyed, Ellia. At least the base on the planet was. Antimatter explosion. Nothing is left. I know…I was there.”
The Hegemony master returned h
er gaze, a look of surprise yielding almost at once to one of sympathy as she saw the pain in Andi’s eyes.
“That is…unfortunate, Andi. But the records we found indicate there were two different institutions, no doubt a redundancy to insure against discovery by the Highborn. The other planet is in the Badlands as well, though on the far side from Aquellus, close to the outer edge. A planet called Bellastre.”
Andi looked back at Ellia. The name was almost familiar, as though she’d heard it somewhere or seen it on some map. That could be wishful thinking, too. “Do you have a location?”
Ellia looked down. “No, Andi. No precise locational data on either, just some vague references. I was able to conclude they are both in the Badlands, and that Bellastre is on the outer perimeter. But no specific positional coordinates, no route to get there.” A pause. “Still, I have to believe we can find it. We do have some system data that should be sufficient to confirm it if we’re able to locate it…much as we did here.”
“We came all this way to get directions…back in the other direction from where we started?”
Ellia didn’t answer right away. Andi understood. They very well might have found what they’d come for already…if they hadn’t blasted the place to dust. Andi was angry with herself, while at the same time realizing she hadn’t had a choice. If she hadn’t let Vig use the ship’s lasers, they’d all be dead by then. Whatever overwhelming frustration they all felt, at least they were still alive. Still in the fight.
But those shots destroyed what we came to get…we came here for nothing…
Another half-truth, she knew. The information Ellia and Sy had secured was extremely valuable. First, it confirmed what she had hoped. The empire had developed a method for driving the Highborn out. Andi had imagined more of a physical weapon system, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized a biological approach was probably better. Especially if what Ellia had just told her a few moments before was true—and the only record of that was now the Master’s memory. The Highborn had fled only months after the weapon’s initial implementation, and the artificial virus did not harm normal humans. The idea of using the Highborn’s engineered genetics, turning the genes that fueled their feelings of superiority against them, appealed to Andi’s vengeful side.
And that was a large and potent part of who she was…at least with those who asked for her wrath. The Highborn had taken her from Tyler, from her child. She would try to destroy them because they were a deadly threat…but she would also do it because she wanted to.
“Okay, let’s get back to the ship now…before the rest of this place comes down. What we want is far from here, on the other side of Striker.” She turned around. “Vig, get back up to the surface, and get the ship ready. We’re lifting off as soon as we can get everyone back onboard.”
“Yes, Andi…we can be ready in twenty minutes, maybe fifteen if Lex and I hurry.”
“Then hurry.” Vig nodded, and then he turned around, moving back toward the surface.
Andi glanced around, looking over the ruins of the cavern, and the patchy light now streaming through the gaping hole in the roof. Two of the Marines were carrying out the last body. Andi had never been one to place any real value on the physical remains of the dead, no matter how close they were to her. But she respected the Marines, and she knew they valued bringing their lost comrades back from their battles.
And there was no question they had saved the rest of her people. Her crew would never have held out long enough for Vig to get back to the ship, not without the Marines. She’d almost argued with Tyler about taking them along, and now she just closed her eyes for a few seconds and breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t succeeded in her mission, at least not completely.
But she hadn’t failed either.
At least not completely.
“Let’s go, Ellia, Sy…it’s time to get the hell out of here.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Reconstructed Hall of the People
Liberte City
Planet Montmirail, Ghassara IV
Union Year 231 (327 AC)
“I must thank you, Sandrine. Your efforts to rebuild the Hall of the People were rewarded with great success…even if the rest of your insurrection ended rather less triumphantly. My office—the one you styled your own for a period of time—is quite magnificent. Though, I have had to remove the garish furnishings. You proved somewhat more capable than I’d expected as a rebel, but I’m afraid your tastes in interior design still leave much to be desired.”
Ciara could see Villieneuve’s face staring down at her, even as she endured his gloating. Something like that would have been infuriating, if she hadn’t been utterly consumed by the certainty that far worse awaited her.
She’d spent two weeks in the hospital, and her wounds had been mostly mended. She was still sore, and she suspected she wasn’t really fully healed. But that didn’t matter. Not while she lay strapped down to the cold metal platform, unable to move.
Unable to do anything expect listen to her feared and hated enemy taunt her…before he gave the order for her true nightmare to begin.
“Now, Sandrine, as much as I enjoy our little chats, I’m afraid we have some serious business to discuss. My people have rounded up a considerable number of your accomplices, but it has been some years since I have been on Montmirail, and I’m afraid my knowledge of goings on in the capital is not what it once was. You can help me with that. You can help by providing a list of everyone who participated in or cooperated with your fraudulent government. Everyone, in fact, who aided you in any way. I want them all, even the cooks who prepared your meals. I am quite resolved to sweep Montmirail clean of all traitors.” He paused, and when he continued, a malevolence slipped into his voice. “You know you will help me, Sandrine, one way or another. You are quite aware how effective our methods can be. My recollection is that you were not terribly hesitant to employ them in your own operations back in the day. So, why not just tell me what I want to know? You will do so in any event, but if you cooperate, perhaps things can go less harshly for you.”
Ciara looked back at Villieneuve. Restrained as she was, it was all she could do.
“You may speak, Sandrine. I have ordered the cessation of the drugging protocol that paralyzed your vocal cords.”
“You will…torture…me anyway…” Villieneuve had told her the truth. She could speak, though every word was an ordeal. They came out as virtual whispers, and the idea of yelling or screaming seemed as unlikely as getting up and walking out.
“You are probably right, Sandrine.” He smiled, a sickly, terrifying grin that froze her insides. “You caused be terrible harm. You stabbed me in the back after I favored you, advanced you. Do you believe you have a right to expect anything else? You, one who tortured your own victims, who saw their mangled bodies thrown into the disposal units like old garbage?” He paused, but not long enough for her to respond. “You have earned what awaits you, Sandrine…but still, I might be inclined to lessen the severity a degree, to grant you a quicker death. If I am convinced you have provided me all the names I seek.”
She didn’t believe him, not really. But any hope of lessening the torment that lay ahead for her exerted a powerful pull, enough even to compel her to betray all those who had supported her, who had served her faithfully. She hadn’t often allowed ethics and morals to guide her actions, but the thought of exposing her allies, those few who might have escaped detection, sickened her. Still, she knew she’d do anything to escape the horrors looming over her, even for the slightest chance of lessening her torment.
“Release me. Allow me to leave…and I will tell you what you want to know.”
Villieneuve laughed caustically. “Sector Nine does teach operatives to negotiate, that is clear…still, Sandrine, I think your starting position is a little extreme. You know that is not going to happen. Even if I was willing to overlook all your transgressions against me, if I released you, you would only continue to conspire a
gainst me. It is in your blood, and I understand it, as few could. Do you really expect me to believe you will go to the Confederation if I release you, settle somewhere—assuming they will have you—and grow vegetables, or squeeze out a couple babies?” He laughed again. “No, Sandrine, you are a creature like me, and for that affinity, I am willing to offer you this chance just one more time. Give me everyone—everyone—who participated or assisted, or even sympathized with, your traitorous rebellion, and I will grant you a reasonably quick death.” He stared at her, and her already cold blood almost froze. “Refuse this last chance, and I will still get everything I need. Your resistance will only delay my efforts a bit, and there won’t be much of you left to execute when I’m done.”
She stared back, stuck between stark terror and her near certainty that she couldn’t trust a thing Villieneuve told her. She was wavering, trying to maintain what remained of her courage, but she could feel it slipping away.
Then: “Gaston, if you have a moment.” It was the tall man. His voice was deep, almost defying disobedience in anything he uttered.
Villieneuve turned immediately and walked out of the room. She could feel his fear…and with what remained to her of clarity and control, she relished it.
* * *
Andrei Denisov sat silently in the center of the cruiser’s bridge, staring at the screen in the front, and at the battleship it displayed. He had been furious at his aide when he’d first awakened. Not for striking him, though assaulting a superior officer was a capital offense in the Union service, but for compelling him to live. Pavel Milovia had not only gotten him out of the Ghassara system, under the nose of Villieneuve’s fleet, and those of his Highborn allies, but he had also managed to reassemble close to three dozen ships from the fleet. The survivors had been mostly cruisers and escorts, fast ships that had managed to flee the beleaguered capital system in time, but now two battleships had joined them. It wasn’t enough force to mount any kind of serious fight against Villieneuve or his allies, but it was too much for Denisov to ignore in favor of wallowing in self-pity. The cold misery was still there, but he could feel the call to duty pulling him slowly from it, and back to where he belonged.