The responding ship would probably be a cruiser or destroyer. It would take almost an hour to ramp up to forty percent of the speed of light and jump. If the ship pushed up to the third layer of hyperspace, standard for Federation Fleet vessels, then it would take almost ten hours to reach them. On the other hand, if what the Marie carried was really that important, the ship would probably push up into the fourth layer of hyperspace. That would get them here in just over two hours.
Tonya knew which one she was betting on.
They had to be gone in no more than two hours, or they were dead.
"Rachael!" she said suddenly over the com.
"Is something wrong!" Rachael demanded. "Are they here?"
"You'd know before me," Tonya answered. "You're the one with the sensors."
"Right, sorry. What did you want, then?"
"Those sensors."
"What?"
"Can you slave the sensors into my display?"
"I can," Francesca answered. "What do you need them for?"
"How easy is it to navigate in hyperspace without a navigational buoy?" asked Tonya.
"It's not easy at all," Francesca said. "Why do you –? Ah, I see. Yes, I think that would work. It will certainly buy us some time."
"Does someone want to explain?" said Rachael.
"The Federation ship that's coming after us needs a navigational buoy to find us. We don't need one to jump out. We know where we are."
"You want to destroy the buoy?" Rachael sounded shocked. Navigational buoys were normally inviolate, even in war. No one liked the thought of being lost in hyperspace. Without a buoy, a ship could drift into a mass-object without knowing it. Any ship doing that would be destroyed before they even knew what they'd hit.
"I am going to destroy it," Tonya replied. "Want doesn't factor into it."
Θ
The causeway through the Keys was choked with abandoned vehicles. It was a long and lonely way to walk. Only the beat of the surf and cry of the gulls broke the silence. The gulls made his heart ache. Drake wanted to just find a small boat and sail away and not ever worry about anything ever again. Small chance of that, since he knew not even death would relieve him of his responsibilities.
Key West finally came into sight. The rocket gantries stood stark against the setting sun. They were huge, larger than the Saturn rockets that had taken humans to the Earth's moon. That Gerhardt had managed to build this in such a short time was amazing. The man had been driven by his urge to explore space, even at his age. Drake remembered that Gerhardt had once told him it was all he had ever wanted, all his life.
Drake wondered what had happened to Gerhardt. Had he died along with Cincinnati? Was he alive and someplace else? Drake didn't know. He would probably never know.
One of the towers stood empty, but three had giant rockets standing ready for an order to launch that would never come. Those must be the colony ships, Drake thought to himself. Gerhardt had launched the Roald Amundson to Alpha Centauri in hopes of finding inhabitable worlds. It was an amazing feat, given the primitive technology of twenty-first century Earth.
Gerhardt, being the eternal optimist, had built and provisioned the colony ships so that they would be ready to launch the moment the expedition reported success. It was for that reason that Drake had walked the Long Seventy-Five to the launch facility. He knew his friend Jason well. This colonization effort was exactly the kind of thing Jason would have gotten himself involved with. Jason had a history of running away from his problems. Four and a half light years was a long way to run. It was a long for way to search for him, too.
Of course, the war had interrupted the whole mission. The explorers had launched in the Roald Amundson only months before the virus outbreak. They would be traveling for years to come. Drake had found a note that said Gerhardt had sent a message to them, telling them of the war, but they were in coldsleep. They wouldn't know what had happened until they woke up at Centauri. It would be too late for them then. The trip had been one way. They were depending on the colony ships to bring the supplies needed to come back. They would die out there, never able to return home.
Drake didn't feel anything for the explorers. They had known the risks, and they weren't important to him. He was, however, interested in the colonists. The information back in Atlanta suggested that some or all of the colonists had been placed in coldsleep before the war. Many of them were family members of the explorers. The naval base was a nuclear facility. The power plant could still be providing power, which meant there could be over three thousand people waiting to wake up. Most of the colonists were scientists, agriculturalists, and engineers. That would be a huge boost to the population of the Anglin settlement. Most importantly, Jason could be there, as well – almost certainly was.
Θ
"Enter!" Tebrey said irritably.
He'd been meditating alone in his quarters, as Lyra had instructed him, but he wasn't very good at it. There were places in his mind he didn't want to look. Memories he didn't want to remember. That was part of his training, though. If he was going to master the new abilities he was manifesting, he had to understand himself. If he understood and mastered the darkness within himself, he could never be tempted or turned by the enemy.
That was the theory, anyway. He didn't want to test it. Not again.
Sergeant Pt'kar entered with Geoffrey in tow. The young man looked as if the sergeant had been giving him a thorough thrashing, which were her orders. He also looked guilty, but then, he usually looked as if he was guilty. Geoffrey was keeping certain things about Drake a secret. Tebrey knew that. When and if Geoffrey was ready to tell him, he would.
Tebrey sighed. "What has he done this time?" he asked as the door closed.
Pt'kar grinned, a fearsome sight. "We were talking after today's lessons." She turned to Geoffrey. "Tell him what you told me."
"Which part?"
"All of it.
Tebrey listened in silence as Geoffrey told him about the universe of his father, and of his starship. There were quite a few things he was going to have to ask more about, but first he wanted to know about this ship.
"Why didn't he use this ship when he was here?" Tebrey asked.
"I don't think he remembered it," said Geoffrey. "He seemed really forgetful when he came and found me. From talking to Admiral Shadovsky, I now know that Drake had only recently returned from... wherever he was when he was Ascended. I asked Drake about Hephaestus, and he looked blank at first, then he remembered. I think coming back must have fogged his mind. I think he'd forgotten a lot of things about his life."
"So what do you know about his ship?"
"Hephaestus is an ancient scout ship. I'm not really sure how big it is. I've only seen it from the outside a couple of times, when I was with Jon."
"Jon?"
"Jon Livingston. One of our friends. He has a smaller starship, less advanced than the ships you have here. He's from a different universe."
"Interesting. You said it was a scout ship?"
"That's what Drake called it. Hephaestus never told me anything about that."
"So the ship has a machine intelligence?"
"I think the ship is a machine intelligence."
"What is it capable of?" Tebrey asked. "What kind of weapons does it have? How fast is it? I assume it's jump-capable."
Geoffrey shrugged helplessly. "You don't think Drake is a threat, do you?"
"Geoffrey, think!" Tebrey said forcefully. "If Drake could have a ship like this, the enemy could, too. There could others of his kind out there who aren't kindly disposed toward us. I need to know what kind of weapons and ships we could be facing. Besides, I want to know just what my father is capable of."
"Hephaestus always said that there weren't any more ships like him left," Geoffrey replied. "But I'll tell you what I know, which isn't much. The ship could jump almost instantly from point to point. It also could jump from universe to universe. I think it may have been intended to terraform planets origi
nally, or something. Hephaestus could make just about anything. Drake had this really nice house in a bubble in orbit around—"
"Geoffrey, focus," Tebrey interrupted. He was fascinated to hear about the technology, but he needed to know about the weapons.
"I did see Hephaestus dismantle a planet once to get to the core. It was pretty impressive."
"I'd bet," said Tebrey. He thought about what it would take to dismantle a planet. That kind of technology was so far above theirs that they may as well not even bother to try fighting if confronted with it. He hoped Geoffrey was right about Hephaestus being the last of its kind. If the Thetas got ahold of that kind of technology, the war would be over very quickly.
"Weapons? Defenses?"
"I just don't know," Geoffrey said. "I'm sorry. I don't even know what kind of weapons your ships have. Drake told me once about a battle he and Hephaestus had fought together where they faced over three hundred ships and came through it unscathed, but I don't know how powerful the other ships were."
"Not even a guess?"
"I don't think Drake would have bragged about it if those ships had been pushovers, you know what I mean?"
"That's what I was afraid of," Tebrey said.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The launch facility was intact, although surrounded by an electric fence and automated defenses. Drake checked the latter carefully, but they had long since run out of ammunition. The fence was simple to circumvent. He was careful to restore it before proceeding. It wouldn't do to have the place overrun with ferals.
The lights on high poles still functioned and beat back the falling darkness, which Drake found oddly comforting. His feeling wasn't anything as childish as fear of the dark – there was very little he was afraid of – but rather a desire for reassurance that not all hope was lost. The facility, with its working lights and its rockets standing bravely on the pads, showed that the works of humanity could endure. Someday humans would reclaim the technology they had once possessed, and they would take it to the stars. Drake intended to be there to make sure that happened.
The security codes proved relatively simple to bypass, and Drake let himself into the administration building. The environmental controls were still operational, keeping the building comfortable against the cold outside. He was normally impassive when it came to such things, but he shivered as his body's temperature increased. There was much worth salvaging in this place, if anyone could manage to make the trip up Seventy-five to Anglin with it. Drake doubted they would bother, though. The journey would be too arduous for them. It was going to be hard enough to get the colonists up there without him directly interfering.
Drake frowned and sat down at the computer terminal in the control room. He had mixed feeling about helping the people on this planet. On one hand, he'd told Geoffrey he would help rebuild his world; that hadn't changed. The urgency of that promise had even become more pronounced with his discovery of the involvement of his Ancient Enemy. On the other hand, he'd seen the results of his people giving aid and technology to people who weren't ready for it. He couldn't give the people here weapons technology or anything that could be used as a weapon, and almost everything could be used as a weapon by resourceful individuals.
The survivors of the war were nothing if not resourceful.
It was within his power to simply fix everything. His ship had the means to shape worlds to suit his desires. He could repair the environmental damage, cure the plagues, and destroy the beasts inhabiting the ruins. But in doing so, what would he be taking from the survivors? How would they feel when they found out? Would they worship him as a god? He had no desire for that. Would they be angry and covet the technology he possessed? Without a doubt. They would ask him why he hadn't taken action sooner, and Drake wasn't sure he knew the answer to that question.
Saying that he hadn't fixed everything because he didn't really care wouldn't go over very well. And what did that say about him? What did it say that he cared about his friends and family, but was indifferent to the fates of everyone else? Was that a normal way to feel? Would he even know what was normal anymore?
The computer yielded to the codes he'd found in Atlanta. Most of its files were normal administrative information, and boring. He skimmed rapidly through them, looking for the manifest of the colonists. His friend had to be among them; Jason wasn't anywhere else on this cured planet. All the information Drake uncovered had led to this facility. He scanned the list of names, looking for any known alias of his friend. Jason wasn't human, he'd lived a long time and gone by many names, but none of them were in the database. That didn't necessarily mean anything, though. He could be using a new name, but when Drake scanned the colonists' files, none of the pictures were of a man like Jason.
Jason Grey was the name he'd been going by the last time Drake had seen him. There was a Grey in the manifest, but not Jason, although the first name was familiar for some reason. Drake recalled a name Geoffrey had mentioned: a woman Jason had known. A woman named… Elena. The name in the database was Elena Grey.
Geoffrey had said Jason was dating a woman named Elena. That had been two years before the war, when Geoffrey had last seen their friend. If it had been anyone but Jason, Drake would have assumed the man had married the woman, but Jason was practically neurotic about his privacy. Still, it was a coincidence that could not be ignored.
Drake would have to revive the woman and ask her. If she was married to his Jason, she would know where he was and why he wasn't on the manifest of colonists. For all Drake knew, Gerhardt had removed his name and record for secrecy; that would be like him. Jason might be down there now, right next to Elena, just waiting to be awakened.
Drake stood and was headed out the door to go look when a voice spoke from the empty room behind him, "You're too late, Daerandir. This world is ours now."
Θ
Tonya breathed a sigh of relief as the Marie jumped into hyperspace. The translation had been rough, but that to be expected with hastily repaired jump spines. Marty had outdone himself with the repairs. He was currently sleeping in an acceleration couch, still suited up. He'd have to get to work on the environmental systems as soon as he got a little rest, but he'd earned the break.
We should be going to Dawn, Ghost thought to her.
"Why is that?"
Nancy gave her a funny look, but Tonya gestured to Ghost, and the pilot looked away, embarrassed. Tonya never had understood why non-telepaths were disturbed by such communication. It wasn't as if ever single little thought was shared all the time. They would've lost their minds if it had been like that.
Hunter says Mandor is back on Dawn from Steinway. They've been looking for us.
You can talk to him across this distance?
He has a very distinctive mind.
Tonya stifled a laugh. Her cat was smitten.
Well, he is very well-formed. I've been reading about such things on the dataweb. A mate should be chosen for strength, intelligence, and compassion. He is superior in those traits to any other neo-panther I have ever met.
You read the web?
I have a data-link.
And you use it to read dating advice?
This is important to me.
I'm just teasing you, love. Does he feel the same way about you?
He does. Do you think it will be a problem for us?
Why would it be?
Because you and Commander Tebrey do not seem to get along.
Tonya sighed. Trust Ghost to bring up what she didn't want to talk about.
I don't think he'll mind. He likes you. It's me he can't stand.
I think that's unfair, Ghost replied. You compete for the attention of his wife. You started the animosity. Hunter says Tebrey is mostly just confused as to why you dislike him so much.
I like Ana, Tonya thought carefully. I wish she wasn't with him. She likes me, I can tell. She just won't do anything since she's married.
Don't be so sure.
See, I can't do that
, either, Tonya thought. I like her too much to let her throw away what she has with Tebrey. She loves him. I can't come between them.
Maybe you should let her make that decision, replied Ghost. She isn't a child. If you respect her, respect what she decides to do for herself. How do you know Tebrey would care?
He seems like the type who'd care.
Or maybe you're just afraid. I think you find them both attractive, and that scares you.
Maybe I do, but they're with each other.
Why don't we just play it by ear, so to speak. Tell Nancy to change course to Dawn.
Yes, boss.
Don't you forget it.
"Nancy?"
"Yes?"
"Please change course to Dawn when we reach the Concord navigational buoy."
"I thought you wanted to go to Steinway?"
"Plans change."
"I'll have to talk to Rachael."
"Do what you have to, but get me to Dawn ASAP."
Θ
Drake spun to face this new threat. An Enemy stood in the room, and the power that emanated from it made his head ache. It had spoken to him in the ancient language, the language of his youth. It knew his name, his birth name, which wasn't good. This Enemy had to be old, as old as Drake or older. He didn't like to think about what that might mean.
"This world is under my protection," Drake replied. He send out tendrils of thought, but was blocked savagely. He hadn't expected anything less. He wasn't prepared to face one of the Ancients, not yet.
"And you are doing a wonderful job of it," the Enemy said with a sneer. It kept its form cloaked in darkness, but the burning intensity of its eyes shone clearly. Reality seemed to melt a little around it. Drake wished he'd thought to wear his armor. "We have killed billions. Where were you? We have hunted the vermin that infest this world. All is lost."
"Then I will protect what is left," said Drake. He drew his pistol and fired, but the Enemy dodged the plasma stream and raised a weapon Drake had never seen before. Drake threw himself to one side as a wave of pure annihilation swept across the place where he'd been standing. The wall of the building was obliterated where it was hit. Drake's soul was scraped raw by the blast. An alarm began to scream, and the Halon fire suppression system activated, obscuring his foe.
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