by Tim C Taylor
“You magnificent bastard. But you’re only confiding in me now? You could have told me the moment you showed up on FRS New Frontier.”
“None of it would have meant anything if Tawfiq–” A muffled bang resonated up the passageway from past the blast door. He frowned. Was that a gunshot?
Xin’s face went white with horror. “Del!” she murmured. And then she was away, back through the blast door and pushing herself along the zero-gee passageway as fast as any Spacer.
Arun pursued her, although his strength was fading and she left him in her wake. It was just as well he was dosed on pain dullers because his body would scream in protest later, but he made it to the area outside the conference room.
“Keep back, Arun!” warned a Far Reach Marine with an arm locked around Springer.
Springer? The layers of fatigue sloughed away and he surveyed the scene properly.
The half dozen Far Reach Marines wore identical black combat armor, but he recognized the voice of Estella Majanita as Springer’s assailant.
A young woman was applying a medical patch to a wounded man secured onto the walkway. She looked over her shoulder at Arun, wide-eyed.
Not you too, Grace.
“Ambassador Sandure is hurt,” cried Grace. She was still in the dress uniform she’d been wearing in the conference room. She looked as horrified as Arun felt.
He saw another unarmed person floating unconscious.
“Nhlappo is just tranquilized,” said Majanita, warning him back with her carbine. “Del would have been too, if he hadn’t tried to play the hero. He’s always looked up to you. More fool him.”
Arun tried to catch Springer’s eye, but Majanita was interposing her armored body. “What do you want?” Arun growled.
“That depends,” Xin answered, “on the truth of what you just told me.”
She made a sudden grab for their daughter, gripping Grace around the shoulders and pushing off the walkway to float closer to her Marines. “Sorry, my dear. But as C-in-C I’m temporarily relieving you of command.”
Grace screamed in fury, but she could only kick her legs against empty air.
Then the Far Reach team vanished.
No, not vanished, he realized. Teleported.
And they’d taken Springer.
Del’s arm was badly burned, but Grace had applied an auto-tourniquet and nano-field patch to the wounds. Arun squeezed his friend’s hand, whose half-open eyes flickered in response.
Barney patched through to CIC. “This is General McEwan. Interim President Tremayne has been taken by a Far Reach snatch squad. Don’t let them get away. Also, medical team to Deck 31 frame 17B. Ambassador Sandure has been shot. Field Marshal Nhlappo is unconscious.”
It was Kreippil himself who answered. “You let them take her? Stay where you are. I’ll deal with the Far Reach traitors.”
“Don’t power play me, Admiral! Where are New Frontier and Expansion, the Far Reach ships?”
A pause. “Still in Mars orbit.”
“That’s too far to teleport.” Arun frowned. Was it? Everything he knew about the technology had come from unreliable sources. But his gut said he had been told the truth. In which case… “They must have Karypsic nearby. Blockade it!”
A squad of Littorane Marines showed up within the minute, suited up and ready to do harm to any who would hurt this new vessel of the goddess, because that was how the Littoranes were seeing Springer now: as Indiya’s spiritual successor.
“Let’s hit the airlock,” said Arun.
“Our instructions are to repulse intruders,” replied the shoal leader.
“They teleported away. I think they must be really close. Come on, with me. I’ll grab an emergency pressure suit at the airlock and join you. I have a special connection to Phaedra Springer Tremayne. I might sense her location in ways others cannot.”
“That is outside mission parameters, sir.”
“I’m Arun McEwan. The only reason any of you are here today – the reason this ship even exists – is because I broke mission parameters to create the Human Legion. And so did Springer. Now, let’s go rescue her.”
The Littoranes looked at each other unhappily.
“For the Goddess!” shouted the shoal leader. And then they were racing for the airlock with Arun struggling to keep up.
— Chapter 56 —
Springer Tremayne
Aboard Karypsic 1.1
“New Frontier and Expansion signaling ready to jump,” said a voice over a bulkhead speaker. “First and Second Battle Fleets leaving Jupiter cloaking shield.”
“Copy,” Xin replied. “Initiate jump when ready.” She looked wistfully at Springer for a few seconds. Was she looking for a reaction to the revelation that there were Far Reach fleets close by? Springer didn’t give her one. “You should have killed me when you had the chance at the Second Battle of Khallini.” For a moment, Xin looked away and her eyes glazed over – concentrating on something Springer couldn’t hear. “You’re too soft, and you made Arun soft too. You would have been the death of us all.”
“What does she mean?” Springer asked of Grace, who was strapped in beside her, and appeared to be just as much a prisoner. “And why does she sound like she’s reciting an overly rehearsed speech she no long believes in?”
A voice in a bulkhead speaker warned of a time jump in three seconds.
“I can only answer the first question at this time,” Grace replied.
Depressurization! screamed Saraswati in her head.
Springer didn’t question her AI; she evacuated her lungs and shut her eyes.
The time jump initiated and for the third time in her life, Springer experienced the vacuum of space without a pressure suit. Her belly swelled, and the bronchioles in her lungs began to burst. A prickling sensation came to her eyes and mouth as their moisture boiled into space.
And then she was safe again.
Springer opened her eyes on a giant pressurized bubble filled with air, and very surprised Far Reach personnel spinning about inside this balloon. Of Karypsic 1.1 there was no sign. It had disappeared, replaced by the bubble which hung in space just a few hundred feet off Holy Retribution’s enormous port bow.
Most of that didn’t really happen, Saraswati assured her. It was over so quickly you just remembered the pain of what should have come next. Maybe none of it did. Frankly, you can make up whatever version of reality suits you best, because none of it makes sense. Which does rather point the finger of blame, don’t you think?
“Guess your friend, Greyhart, didn’t want you abusing the toys he gave you,” Springer shouted at Xin. “Did you void the warranty on his time engines?”
“Friend?” Xin looked at her like she was insane. “Greyhart is a bigger threat than Tawfiq ever was. But, yes, if it pleases your petty mind, I believe you are correct. Greyhart has just given us a lesson. His time intercalators only operate when he says so.”
Long before the air could run out, the area of space around the bubble was swarming with Legion X-Boats. Littorane Marines arrived with rescue gear and overwhelming firepower.
And with them, armed with a plasma pistol and an emergency pressure suit, was Arun.
Her heart leaped to see him, but though she would always love him, the words she had exchanged with Nhlappo after the conference sliced through any thoughts of joy.
Arun had no formal command authority over the Littoranes – he never had – and look how ready they were to follow him.
Look how ready Arun was to lead.
Arun. Xin. Arun. Xin.
She looked around at the Far Reach team. Grace was different, but the others would follow Xin through an event horizon and back. Colonel Lee had been their hero, and as President Lee it was no different. And now, it seemed, there were Far Reach military fleets about to reveal themselves in the Solar System.
Arun. Xin. Arun. Xin.
Nhlappo was right. The galaxy might be big enough to contain both of them, but the Human Autonomous Region wa
s not.
But that wasn’t the reason for her betrayal
I don’t think ‘betrayal’ is a healthy framing for your decision.
Shut the frakk up, she told Saraswati because this was a personal betrayal of the man she loved.
Arun closed and pressed his hand against the flexible material of the pressure bubble. Grace gave Springer a shove so she could meet him at the interface, and touch her fingers to his across the insulated material.
Inside the bubble of his helmet, he was grinning. It was the same cheeky expression of the boy she’d known long ago, but it was painful to see it in a face grown so stretched with gauntness it looked as if his smile would surely tear his skin. And if she ever gripped him again in her arms, she feared she would crush his frail body to powder.
I love you, she mouthed, but she was ashamed of the tears forming bubbles over her eyes. She kicked off against Arun’s mass and scrambled from Marine to Marine to seek refuge in Grace’s arms.
“I understand,” said Grace. “Nhlappo’s sounded me out too. It stinks, but I don’t see any other way. And so soon too…” Her voice caught, and for the first time, Springer considered the hurt it would cause this young woman. “I told Nhlappo no, but when I saw you support her. I mean… my mother…” Her face clouded. “You love him most of all, Springer. If you can endorse the plan…”
“I can’t speak openly,” said Springer, gripping Grace’s shoulders, and noticing Xin watch them intensely, “but hear this. I’m doing it all for your father.”
It seemed to be what Grace needed to hear. In a voice taut with pain, Grace replied, “Thank you.”
— Chapter 57 —
Arun McEwan
Isolation cell. Deck 41. Holy Retribution.
The inside of a Littorane cell was not an environment Arun McEwan had expected to experience just days after the fall of Tawfiq. Perhaps he should have seen it coming.
The amphibians were more comfortable in water, so naturally the cells were not designed to be flooded, which meant that instead of leaving the prisoner to float, there was a stretchy mesh fabric attached to one bulkhead to serve as a sleeping pouch. The bad news was that with his wrists cuffed, it was going to be near impossible for Arun to wriggle free of the pouch and float across the cell to take advantage of the water fountain or zero-g toilet. He didn’t intend to humiliate himself trying in front of the dark bulges in the overhead that housed the cameras.
He was on the point of trying anyway when the door slid open.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded from the pouch.
Kreippil floated in. So did Nhlappo. Neither spoke.
“Is this a coup?” Arun challenged.
When he first heard of Indiya’s absence, Arun had feared Kreippil would seize control of the fleet in the name of his goddess, but in the first virtual conference in the wake of Tawfiq’s death, when Springer’s recoded brown eyes had glowed lilac with passion, Kreippil had seen it as a sign of divine favor. In Springer, he had found his new purple one.
“This is me maintaining security and order on my ship,” Kreippil replied. “And reminding you that you have no authority to order my personnel about.”
“The Admiral speaks for himself,” said Nhlappo in a monotone. “As do I. And what I’m about to propose… yes, you could call it a coup.”
Arun stared at Nhlappo, trying to figure her out. She’d sided with the Wolf mutineers on Beowulf many years ago, but that had turned out to be subterfuge. Maybe. He’d never been entirely sure of that. And then there was the business a few days before with Romulus.
To kill your own child… it was such a horrific concept that Arun struggled to call it by its name. Murder. Not that anyone had suggested bringing charges against her – not in his hearing, anyway – but how had this business wounded her?
Frankly, Arun didn’t know how to talk to her, and for a long while Nhlappo didn’t seem capable of speech either. But when she did break the silence, it wasn’t in the monotone of someone so damaged by recent trauma that they were not truly alive.
“I made the right decision,” she stated. “I don’t ask for your understanding, even less your approval. I knew Romulus better than he knew himself. The guilt of his crimes would have killed him from the inside, even if you didn’t offer him up for a show trial or mob justice. Now he’s gone and I have my own guilt to bear. And what is it we have won with our sacrifices? Within days. Days, McEwan, that’s all it’s taken and already Xin has plotted a coup, and you have acted as if you have the right to command every being in the Legion. Aelingir is slaughtering civilians, and there’s not enough consensus to deliver anything even if we could agree on a way forward. All the while the New Order is waiting for us to fall apart completely before wiping us out. How long do you think they need to wait? Eh? Another month?”
Disgust filled her face and she looked away from Arun. “It will take less than that before we’re at each other’s throats. We’ve traveled too far to let it all fall apart now.”
Arun balled his fists but his anger had nowhere to go. He wasn’t plotting coups. That was Xin’s department. All he wanted was to slip away with Springer and find a little peace. But first she made herself responsible for millions of Unbound, and now everything else was turning to drent. There was so much left to do! It was unfair, but he could never talk of unfairness to the woman who’d shot her own son. So he said nothing.
With a sigh, Nhlappo turned back to Arun. “The Legion Council,” she said. “The Human Autonomous Region and the civilian authorities we’ve established on liberated worlds. We’ve winged all of that while the war was still hot. Now we have to act as if we have won. We must decide how to organize ourselves, and that means politics.” She spoke in a monotone once more. Arun had the impression that Nhlappo wanted to disappear even more than he did. It was duty drawing the words out of her.
“I’m a soldier, McEwan. As a rule, I despise politics and politicians, but I detest even more soldiers who assume political power when there are others better suited for the role. It is my firm belief that soldiers should only intervene in civilian matters when the politicians screw up so badly that we are left with no other choice. I find that President Lee has proven herself unworthy. And you too, my friend, are no longer what the survivors of the war need and deserve. Even if you could be restored to health. You leave me with no other option.”
Was she going to kill him too? Arun couldn’t help but flinch, but he refused to beg for his life.
“You have your loyalists,” she said. “If you rallied the Legion to your personal colors, many would follow, assuming your health permitted you to live long enough to do so. Xin has her loyalists too. Neither of you will accept the other taking control of Earth or the Human Autonomous Region. While one faction exists, the other is critically destabilized. Even if we executed both of you – and Kreippil, Marchewka and I have discussed that – doing so would only create martyrs. You and Xin. This cannot work with you both here, and so we need a radical solution. General McEwan, will you accept banishment, taking your followers with you far outside the Human Autonomous Region never to return? Will you willingly leave Xin with free rein to do what she wants?”
Kreippil interposed himself between Nhlappo and Arun. “Your part would be played out, General. But I and many others would not let Xin Lee have free rein. I’m not planning on rising her up to be a tyrant empress.”
Nhlappo nudged the Littorane out of the way. “If you accept banishment, Arun, then these matters will no longer be your concern. You must let us go free to make our decisions and our mistakes as best we can. You must withdraw yourself completely. Will you accept this fate?”
He couldn’t dismiss Nhlappo out of hand. Not after what she had done. So he shut his eyes and rolled the idea of banishment around his mind to see if he could cool it down from burning injustice to something he could actually think about rationally.
And he couldn’t. The idea wouldn’t settle in his mind because of who he
would be forced to leave behind. He was not prepared to abandon Grace so soon, and as for Springer, their separation was impossible to contemplate. Not again. And he couldn’t take her with him if it meant abandoning everything they’d fought for to Xin.
“Not going to happen,” he told Nhlappo. “I’m not going to make it easy for you.”
“Xin Lee gave the same reply,” said Kreippil, “though she didn’t have to think about it.”
“Which is why I’m going to recommend a third option,” said Nhlappo. Now her voice was strained. “You, Xin, and all your supporters shall be banished on a one-way journey to a location far outside of the Human Autonomous Region. All who fought Tawfiq in this system will get a vote to decide your fate.”
“How about a fourth?” spat back Arun. “Reject your illegal coup and stop all this talk of banishment. Let’s carry on as before and make it work instead of giving up when the going gets tough.” He shook his head, disgust welling up at this betrayal. “I don’t trust votes. Too easily rigged. At least you’re admitting this is a coup, Nhlappo. You didn’t, Kreippil. Is that because you’re the one making the grab for power?”
“No, not me.” The Littorane thrashed his tail excitedly. “A madness took me, and I thought myself a great leader. Worse, I imagined I had divine sanction, may the Goddess forgive me. I am a soldier like Nhlappo. To lead a people in peace is very different to commanding a fleet during war. Neither I nor Tirunesh Nhlappo are worthy of that task.”
“If not you, then who?”
Nhlappo looked appalled, and Arun’s insides twisted.
“I’m sorry,” she said.