Arlene nodded. “Sure. I’ll pass it on to him,” she agreed.
Molly changed the subject. “Great. Anything else since we last spoke?”
Arlene shook her head, but then remembered something. “Oh, yes. I told him what you said about the grindle-beast…”
“And?”
“And he says that you need to look up the mythology of Sark. He couldn’t believe you hadn’t read about it. He called you a heathen!” Arlene smiled with genuine humor and affection for Giles.
Molly scoffed, nearly choking on her lemon tea. “You tell him from me that not all of us are social voyeurs. And not all of us have spent the last century plus studying every fairy tale under the sun!”
Arlene chuckled away as she took a note. “I will be sure to let him know…” Her humor faded a little and she grew serious. “You know, he appreciates everything you’re doing for him. You and the team. But especially the messages and social calls.”
Molly smiled, a heaviness weighing in her chest. “Arlene, it’s the least that I can do.” Her voice became quieter. “I mean, I’m the one that let him go in there. I should have stopped him. Sean was right - ”
Arlene leaned forward. “Hush now. Enough of that. Giles knew what he was getting into, and this is nothing that he hasn’t done a dozen times before.”
Arlene’s face was firm now. “And you tell that Sean Royale to let it go. It’s none of his business. He’s not in command. You are. And besides, I’ve watched him make tougher judgment calls than this, and I’ll tell you - he didn’t always shine so brightly as he makes out. So you just tell him from me to leave it be.”
Molly shook her head. “He hasn’t mentioned it again since that day when we were there on ArchAngel.”
Arlene looked satisfied. “Well, good then. Now, Giles also wanted me to let you know about your take on the ‘Firefly nonsense,’ as he calls it.”
Molly and Arlene chatted away, passing the night and grappling with ways to keep the morale going. Not just for the team, but for themselves. And for Giles.
Joel passed by the ops room on his way up from the gym. He paused as he walked by the door, noticing the light on underneath. He opened the door, and stepped inside, seeing the top of Molly’s head over one of the main console units. He strained to hear, unsure of who she might be talking with. He turned to leave, but heard the word ‘Giles’.
He knew she felt guilty. He knew she had the team working on all kinds of angles. But he hadn’t known that she was consistently in touch with Arlene.
He crept quietly out the door, and headed up to the safe house, wishing there was something more they could be doing.
Chom-X9, Giles’s Prison Cell
Giles awoke for the second time that night; this time, to the sound of sobs.
He remembered where he was, but was confused by the presence of another person. Then he remembered the new arrival.
He sighed with empathy, understanding how hard it must be for someone - especially someone who didn’t have his experience and outlook. Slowly, he dragged himself up to a sitting position and leaned against the wall that his cot was positioned against.
“Hey, chap,” he called as loud as he dared.
The sobbing paused.
“Hey, it’s okay. My name is Giles. I’m probably the nearest thing to a friend you’ve got in here, so how about you talk to me?”
There was more silence.
Giles waited.
“Okay,” Anton replied.
And just like that, Giles was back in therapist mode, talking with Anton d’Zyll: traitor.
Gaitune-67, Molly’s quarters
Molly felt the pain of her insides, screaming with exhaustion, as she reached across the bed to switch off her holo alarm.
Shut up, dammit, she willed it, unable to even open her mouth to curse at it.
I believe you set the alarm with the intention of being up and at it early.
Molly’s eyes flicked open as a shot of adrenalin and guilt flooded her neurology.
Fuck. You’re right, Oz. I wanted to talk to Brock to see if there is any progress on the shield design.
You realize that you’re literally running your body into the ground with all this push, push, push?
Molly ignored the comment. She knew Oz was right, but she didn’t have an alternative.
I need to get going, she told him, slithering off the bed, and stumbling to her feet. She padded across the bedroom floor to the shower room, quietly wishing she could still have her morning mocha.
Less than thirty minutes later, she was downing a protein shake and heading to Brock’s workshop. She could hear his music as soon as she opened the door at the top of the steps.
She made her way down the stairs, her protein shake in hand. Brock was there, busting a move while doing something on the bench holo. “Hey, hey, haaaaaay, lady. Looking boom-chica-wow wahhhh, this morning. How you doin?”
Fuck. I hate morning people.
Me too… Though I love Brock.
Yeah. Ditto.
Molly smiled as she approached his workbench. “I’m doing okay, Brock. You seem in good spirits…”
Brock swung his hips, still jigging about to the music. “I. Am. A-OK,” he told her in his usual melodic style. “I’m just setting up some tests for that little engineering problem we’re trying to fix. Might tell us a bit more.”
Molly set her shake down on the bench and pulled up a stool. “Still no luck with the last idea, then?” Her face betrayed her with a tinge of flatness.
Brock noticed when he looked up. He became stiller, and more somber. “’Fraid not,” he admitted. “The thing is, I’m trying to do two things at once… Figure out what frequency they used, to be able to blast through this Federation issue shield, and then try and find a way to counter it. As soon as I find one that could get through, then it becomes a candidate.”
Molly bobbed her head sympathetically. “I know. It’s a huge task. I’m sorry to put this on you, Brock.”
Brock shrugged. “It’s cool. We’ll get there eventually.” He finished what he was doing on the desk holo and then turned his attention to her. “Any news on how he’s doing?” he asked.
Molly shook her head. “It’s pretty much the same. Awful conditions. Awful food. Arlene is helping him keep it together, but time is short.”
Brock’s eyes widened.
Molly nodded again. “Yeah. Sounds like any little slip-up and he’s a dead man. We’ve already had a couple of close calls. Ancestors know how he’s still alive, given how volatile that Shaa is.”
Brock’s eyes dropped a little. “I wish there was something more we could do. I mean, poor guy. A month and a half in those conditions would kill me,” he said, his mind churning for other solutions.
Molly scraped her stool back as she stood up. “It’s okay. You’re doing all you can. I’ve got some other avenues we’re exploring. Just keep going as fast as possible; we’ll catch a break soon. We have to.”
Brock nodded, and turned back to what he was doing. Molly picked up her shake and decided to head up to her conference room to get some work done. “I’ll check on you later, but if you get anywhere…”
“You’ll be the first to know,” Brock called after her.
Molly waved as she strode out to the stairwell.
Chom-X9, Giles’s Prison Cell
Anton tapped on the metal wall. “Hey, Giles. You still awake?” he asked quietly.
Giles grunted. “Yeah.”
Anton’s voice was tentative. “You want to finish telling me the story of the necklace?”
Giles frowned for a moment. “Oh. The talisman… Yeah. Sure.”
Giles’s recounting of his last outing with Sean had been interrupted by the guards bringing them food, and the story had been forgotten.
He shuffled onto his back and stretched a little, getting comfortable. He picked up his story where he had left off, and brought his new
friend, Anton, up to date to when he had returned it to the ArchAngel.
“So, do you know what it is for?” Anton asked.
Giles chuckled. “Somewhat yes, and somewhat no.” He smiled. “It’s a puzzle. Literally.”
Anton was quiet for a moment.
Giles started counting the rivets along the top of the wall, as he lay gazing above him.
“You know,” Anton spoke up again, “it kind of reminds me of that children’s song.”
Giles’s attention was piqued. “Where in the Zhyn Empire are you from?”
Anton frowned, thinking it was a strange, unrelated question. “Er, the Orn System.”
Giles nodded. “The home of ‘the Oracle of the Eleven Moons,’” he said cooingly, as if reading off a tourist’s guide.
“How did you know? I mean, I’m guessing from your voice you’re human, right? How do you know about the Orn System?”
Giles smiled. “Let’s just say I’m an archaeologist.”
Anton was confused. “A what?”
“I study civilizations. But forgive me, you mentioned a nursery rhyme that you were reminded of?”
“Right,” Anton agreed. “It talks of a map or something. It’s probably unrelated. It just made me think of it.”
Giles was starting to feel relaxed. He had food in his system, and it wasn’t too cold in his cell, for a change. He could indulge the idle chatter. “Can you remember the rhyme?” he asked.
Anton muttered a few things, and then managed to recall parts of it.
Eleven moons, a sight to reap,
When all align, no time for sleep
A shaft of light, where the ions flow
Onto the shroud, the glow does go.
When one beholds the moons of Orn,
Be sure to look up at the horn.
The crescent marks the spot to be
When the time strikes keen and on the mark
And when you read the map of gold
In your hands you’ll graciously hold
The elixir of life
The holy grail
The reason we’re on
The rising trail.
As Giles listened, he moved from lying idly on his rack to sitting bolt upright, listening to every syllable.
After cajoling - and then forcing - Anton to repeat it several more times, he felt sure he had it committed to memory.
“Why do you care?” Anton asked him. “It’s a kid’s playtime song.”
Giles tried to hide his excitement. “One of the things I’ve learned in my line of work is that nothing is ‘just’ anything. I’ve also learned that the way for elders to transmit vital information down through generations is to disguise it as songs or stories, for those who are looking to see.”
Anton was starting to sound sleepy. “Well, beats me what it’s all about. I just remember learning it at school. We had a trip out to one of the moons, once. There was nothing there. So it’s just a story. A story to get kids to go on a boring school trip.”
Giles smiled, listening to the silence in the darkness as his fellow prisoner dropped off to sleep.
Finally, he had his next clue. He couldn’t wait to speak to Arlene again; although, she’d probably heard every word of what he had just discovered.
Falling asleep was the last thing he wanted to do right then.
Gaitune-67, Molly’s quarters
Molly sat on her bed the same way she had in the old safe house – and, for that matter, all through college and the military. She did her best work when she was alone, thinking.
Not that she’d been truly alone for a very long time.
Oz? You there?
Yeah. What’s up?
I’m looking at this data that Arlene had ADAM send over. Some of the stuff he’s been gathering from Giles’s holo via his quantum pearl.
Yeah?
Well, I know he’s tried to find models to fit it to, and his problem is a lack of data; but what if we were to just pin down some assumptions?
You mean guesses?
Yes.
…
Oz?
Yeah, I’m here. Guesses based on what, though?
Errr…
You’re going to say your gut, aren’t you?
Well. Yeah.
You do understand that people like ADAM and I don’t have guts?
Of course, Molly grinned to herself. And that’s why humans will never be redundant.
Her brain tickled her as Oz giggled away. She couldn’t help but laugh a little, too.
Okay, talk me through what you were thinking on your holo.
* * *
Several hours later, Molly closed her holo.
I think we’ve got something useful there.
Yeah, as far as the base is concerned; we’re still missing too many chunks to pinpoint the positions of those other three space launchers.
Molly scrambled off the bed, her back and butt now aching from sitting in a silly position for so long. She stood, slowly, and then stretched out gently.
But what about the data from The Little Empress?
What do you mean?
Well, she took a number of hits, right?
Right.
And we know where those hits happened - on either her shield, or her body.
Yes. All that is recorded. Emma can have it sent over.
Right. And we know her position when these hits occurred.
Ahh. I see where you’re going with this. And we will be able to find the rotation of the planet, and guess where it must have been for us to destroy the one launcher that we killed.
Exactly.
Got it. Contacting Emma for the data now.
Excellent. I think I need to go for a run.
Okay. Don’t overdo it, though. It looks like we’ll be moving out for a mission any day now.
I’ll be fine.
Molly smiled to herself as she rummaged for her running gear. She’d need her outdoor clothing for this one. She’d been cooped up for far too long without a real break.
Chapter 16
Chom-X9, Giles’s Prison Cell
Anton had been quiet all morning, pacing and exercising, churning in his own mind.
Giles was waiting impatiently for a time when he could communicate with Arlene. It was incredibly difficult, now he had someone else within earshot.
It isn’t worth risking getting found out, though, he reasoned. That will be a sure way to get sent to the firing squad.
There were footsteps coming down the corridor. They sounded more purposeful, angrier than usual. And he counted three – no, four - separate pairs.
Anton heard them too, and stopped whatever it was he had been doing.
Giles got up from his rack and stood waiting for his door to open to be hauled up to talk to Shaa.
There was the usual clunking and messing about around the door. Then the sound of the keypad. Then the door swung open, and Shaa stood glaring at him.
The Zyhn had a look of thunder in his eyes.
Giles was taken aback. “Lord High Marshall. To what do I owe this pleasure?” he started, trying to maintain a degree of respect in his voice.
Shaa was not amused. “The Yaree Justicar has just assured me they are not in talks with Reynolds. You’ve lied to me!” he declared.
Giles fell back on his heels a little and then took a half step backwards. “That’s not true. I assure you, I’ve seen them in the logs. The justicar himself was on the ArchAngel two weeks before I was brought in here!”
Giles’s voice rose in panic as he protested his innocence.
Shaa was having none of it. He took another step into the cell, looking like he was ready to explode all over Giles. “First, the codes you gave us didn’t work-”
“They changed them!” Giles interrupted in desperation.
Shaa ignored him, taking another step. “And now this. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you
were here to set us up for failure. Getting me to accuse my ally, and then risk my only gated ship in a fool’s errand, making us think we had the key to destroying the QBS Tornado.”
Giles shook his head, holding his palms up in surrender. “I swear to you, I didn’t. The justicar is lying to you. Let’s talk about this,” he begged.
Shaa wouldn’t accept anything Giles was saying. “You’re going to be executed. My mind is made up,” he informed him. “You’re going to be tied up, out in the atmosphere, on the traitor’s pole… without a suit.”
Giles didn’t quite understand the implication of that. He knew he could survive a short time out there without a suit, but…
“You’re going to die a slow and painful death; the death of a betrayer. A spy!” The fury came off Shaa in waves, his full paranoia and inferiority complex triggered to its maximum. His neck pulsed as rage ran through his veins.
Giles knew there was no reaching him at this point. He stood there, stunned. Neutral. Allowing whatever was going to happen to happen.
“You eat your last meal tonight!” Shaa shouted as he turned and left the cell. “And this is only because I want you to suffer, knowing you are going to die in the morning.”
The door slammed behind him, and the guards locked it up. Footsteps shuffled around, and then followed the High Marshall’s along the corridor.
Giles was vaguely aware of words coming from Anton in the next cell, but it was all he could do to keep it together. His mind swarmed, trying to figure a way out of here.
Fast…
Gaitune-67, Ops Room
Molly sat down at her usual console, talking with Arlene. “So what have you got?” she asked her, anxious that they might finally be able to move forward.
Arlene was grinning. “Okay, so the data that you sent back to us - the stuff ADAM had collated originally - it looks like now, given the last data dump, and your suggestion about making some assumptions and backtracking where The Little Empress got hit, we can interpolate and build up a map of the place. Or at least, most of it, including where the anti-spacecraft guns are.”
Molly sat forward in excitement. “You’re kidding? That’s fantastic!” she grinned in relief.
The Ascension Myth Box Set Page 127