“Of course, Simon. Let’s begin, and let’s get straight to the point.” Rose stood, placing both hands on the broad oaken table, palms down. “A few hours ago, I returned from what can only be described as an underground Xanthic colony, which has existed right under our noses without our knowledge. Probably since before Oasis Colony was founded. It seems very likely that’s where the attack originated.”
“What became of the Xanthic living there?” Normally tense, Captain Sho now looked as rigid as the table. “Should we expect another assault at any moment?”
“That’s one of the mysteries our probe into the colony unearthed. After some initial resistance, we found the colony completely empty. Either they evacuated it, or every single Xanthic that had been living there took part in the attack.”
“Evacuation seems more likely.” A sardonic smile played across Moll’s lips. “Presumably Xanthic aren’t hatched combat-ready. Or spawned, or shat out, or however they’re born.”
Rose felt the corners of her mouth quirk downward. “They might also have evacuated their young before launching their attack, in case we survived and counterattacked. But the absence of Xanthic isn’t what should concern us most. It’s what we found at the colony’s lowest level.”
She tapped a button on the side of the table, and holoscreens rose in front of each seat around the board room table. “You’re looking at a star map of the entire Dawn Cluster, rendered in bio-luminescent moss on the floor of a vast cavern deep underground. Clearly, we have no idea how the Xanthic are able to appear out of the ground, from inside planets that bore no trace of them before. Yes, their colony inside Oasis may have been here longer than we have, but it seems unlikely that a similar colony existed on Earth. Some speculate the aliens that attacked Earth grew from microscopic spores traveling with the gas cloud that enveloped Local Earth Space three years ago. And yet, when they first attacked Earth fifty years ago, they came in spacefaring ships.” Rose shrugged. “For now, it seems safest to assume that the Xanthic are capable of appearing anywhere, at any time.”
She nodded at the display that had risen in front of Theodore Xu. “Feel free to view the map from any angle you like, or to zoom in for a closer look. I’ve had a modeling AI extrapolate its appearance from every angle. For now, there’s one area I’d like you to focus on: the area representing the Dupliss Region. Specifically, the Freedom System.”
All around the table, officials and employees reached for their displays, using the ancient “pinch-and-spread” gesture to zoom in on the part she’d indicated. Thatcher frowned at his holoscreen for a moment, then joined the others in inspecting it.
“As you can see, this system is brighter than those surrounding it, despite that the Freedom System’s star produces an average level of light.” She swept her gaze across those assembled. “That’s because this map isn’t meant to show the strength of each star. It’s a heat map, showing sites where Xanthic attacks will occur all over the Dawn Cluster.”
That brought a couple sharp intakes of breath. Thatcher’s eyes widened, while Moll’s face remained stony. Xu and Sho were also expressionless, though Rose saw their concern in the way their upper cheeks tightened as their lips firmed slightly.
“Other than Freedom System, we’ve discovered twelve sites marked out on this map. Marked out for attack, it would seem. But no system shines brighter than the Ucalegon System, deep in the Lacuna Region. It’s my belief that Lacuna is where the Xanthic will concentrate their efforts to take over the Dawn Cluster.”
Deathly silence followed her last statement. Now, no one was sure how to react. But emotions gradually began to emerge around the table, and Rose didn’t like the shape they were taking at all.
Denial.
“How can we be sure the map indicates where the Xanthic will attack?” Captain Fujio Sho asked.
Rose shook her head. “I don’t know how we can conclude otherwise, with thousands dead in this very city.”
“But isn’t it possible that Freedom’s demarcation is a coincidence? Or could it be that the Xanthic left this map to fool us into concentrating our efforts on a distant region that happens to be swarming with pirates?”
Moll looked up from studying his nails. “He has a point. Why not let Degenerate Empire deal with the Xanthic? I like it when my enemies attack each other.”
“Leaving a ragtag collection of pirates piloting decrepit tubs to deal with the greatest threat humanity has even known seems foolhardy,” Thatcher said flatly, his eyes locking with the Sunder CEO’s.
Thank you, Commander. Rose suppressed a smile. “We can’t afford to take chances here, people. It seems unlikely that the Xanthic would try to fool us with this map, since that would have required them to plan for their own defeat today, which only occurred because Kibishii showed up with three troop ships full of marines. Judging by the size of the lit-up portion in Lacuna, the attack there will be massive. Provided it isn’t already happening. Either way, we can’t just ignore it. That’s why I called you to this meeting. To request the aid of Sunder and Kibishii in helping Frontier to answer this threat.”
Xu’s and Sho’s eyes were on Simon Moll. They’re waiting to see how he reacts. Moll met each of their gazes in turn, then looked at Rose. “Sunder can spare no ships, and I’ve been away from Candor Region too long already. I would remind you, Ms. Rose, that if we lose control of any of the four gateway regions—Endysis, Candor, The Splay, or Dupliss—then all of Daybreak Combine’s efforts to stabilize the northwest will have been for nothing. It’s Frontier’s job to hold Dupliss. Do you plan to abandon your post?”
“Of course, not Captain Moll.” Rose fought to keep her voice steady under the man’s relentless gaze. “That’s exactly why I’m asking your help. If we all take an equal part in this, then no region’s defense needs to be overly weakened.”
“I’m afraid the answer is no.”
Theodore Xu folded his hands atop the table, glaring over them at Moll. “It’s just as we expected. You are close friends with Herwin Dirk, are you not? You are both cut from the same material—unwilling to overexpose yourself, even to deal with a legitimate problem. Just as Dirk is unwilling to sanction Meridian, despite their repeated actions against Kibishii.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” Moll spat. “I’ve been away, strengthening the alliance.”
Xu snorted. “Perhaps you do, perhaps you don’t.” The Kibishii COO turned toward Rose. “Ms. Rose, this is why we came to Freedom System. We have heard much of your company’s nobility, as well as its employees’ valor in space combat. Kibishii’s capacity to wage such battles is limited. Our strength lies with our ability to use stealth in order to place troops where others cannot. That is why we are so vulnerable to our aggressor, Meridian, who also uses stealth but specializes in space combat. We must now forge an alliance with a company capable of meeting Meridian on their own battlefield, if that becomes necessary. Clearly, Daybreak Combine is unwilling to offer us the sort of protection they spoke of when recruiting us into their alliance.”
Rose found herself drumming her fingers on the tabletop, then stilled her hand and sank into her chair, contemplating Xu’s words. Before the meeting, Mittelman had sent a message about Kibishii’s beef with Meridian.
If what Xu claimed was true, then Frontier would help them, she decided. Yes, it might endanger their standing in the fledgling super-alliance, but did she really want to belong to an organization that allowed its members to attack each other?
“Will your company send ships to Lacuna alongside Frontier, Mr. Xu?”
His eyes fell to the table, and his voice dropped almost to a mutter. “We have already saved your city from the Xanthic.” His gaze rose to meet hers. “Do you truly seek to raise the price for your aid even higher?”
“Don’t look at this as my price, Mr. Xu. Stopping the Xanthic is a service to the Dawn Cluster, which is also a service to humanity.”
The man’s eyes darted toward Moll once more. “Why should
Kibishii shoulder this burden, when others will not?”
Moll barked laughter, but everyone ignored him.
“Others will,” Thatcher said, staring across the table at Xu. “Frontier will. Whether you have the courage to join us or not.”
Rose could have slapped him. There he goes again, committing us to courses of action without my approval. She agreed with him, of course. But captains did not speak for CEOs.
Yet, as they so often did, Thatcher’s brash words seemed to have an effect. Xu’s eyes dropped to the table once more, then flitted toward Rose. “We will send one troop ship. The others will remain here, to provide you with what support they can in Freedom. As well, our ships stationed in Kreng are at your disposal should the need arise.”
One troop ship. So. Frontier is basically alone in this. Well, it was better than nothing.
Thatcher’s eyes were on here. “The New Jersey will go, Ms. Rose.”
The young captain sat rigid in his seat, his thin face carved with determination. After the battle with Reardon, his command had been outfitted for system defense—not a long-haul offensive. But there would be no time for another refit. The attack may already be underway.
“Yes, she will, Commander,” Rose agreed. “And I will come with her.”
Thatcher blinked, opened his mouth, then closed it again. Wise choice. Rose turned to Moll. “Captain, your refusal to help with this mission has been heard and understood. As for my company’s entry into the Daybreak Combine, know that it is conditional.”
The Sunder CEO’s face went blank. “Conditional on what?”
“On your leader’s commitment to upholding what I’m calling the concept of ‘free space.’ All throughout the regions where Daybreak holds sway, civil liberties must be respected. All citizens, no matter their nationality, must be free. No surveillance. No censorship. No coercion. Also, anyone will be allowed to pass through the space we control, for commerce or for leisure, so long as they mean us no harm.
“If Herwin Dirk won’t agree to that, then he won’t get Frontier’s membership. Meaning you won’t have Dupliss either.”
Moll’s eyes hardened. They both knew what that meant. Without one of the four ‘gateway regions’ he’d named, Daybreak’s entire scheme for holding the northwest would fall apart.
Chapter Ten
Aboard the New Jersey
Mislit System, Dupliss Region
Earth Year 2290
We’re barely underway, and already there’s a crisis.
Getting underway to anywhere was eventful enough, with the endless series of system checks and inspections that a prudent captain personally ensured were performed. Then there was Veronica Rose, with her softly spoken yet incessant inquiries as to when they would be leaving.
And now this. A crewmember had holed up inside med bay with a scalpel to his own neck, threatening to kill himself. He was demanding to speak to the captain.
Thatcher strode through the Jersey at a brisk pace, though nothing close to a run, or even a jog. He took the time to return the salutes of passing crew, and to nod when they offered him pleasantries, though he drew the line at stopping to chat and gauge the mood of the ship as he might have done on any other day.
The way he saw it, there were almost no circumstances that should send a captain sprinting through his own ship in a panic. The effect that might have on a crew’s morale could easily prove catastrophic, in the long run. It would make them jumpy, with paranoia spiking at the slightest hint of danger. And in the end, it would result in a loss of confidence in the man in charge of them. Nothing is worth that, I’m afraid.
The ship’s doctor, Lieutenant Commander Cruz, was waiting for him at the entrance to med bay, plucking nervously at his uniform. Thatcher cast a disparaging glance at Cruz’s roving hands. With a start, the doctor stopped his fretting and saluted. Thatcher returned it.
“Right this way, sir.” Cruz turned to lead Thatcher through the compact med bay, which amounted to an infirmary, an examination room, and a supply closet, as well as an office area for Cruz and his three corpsmen. Small as it was, not every Cluster corporation allotted even this much space to their ships’ med bays, Thatcher knew. It was one of the reasons he was beginning to consider himself lucky to have ended up working for Frontier. The thought of being employed by Simon Moll made him shudder involuntarily.
The doctor turned in time to see the shiver, and he seemed to misinterpret it. “I know how stressful this must be for you, sir. I’m nearly at my wit’s end. Of course, it’s not unusual for there to be a rash of symptoms for me to examine, at times like this. Any spacer gets a little jumpy at the beginning of a long voyage aboard a starship. But typically it doesn’t get quite this bad.”
Thatcher sniffed. “You don’t have to tell me spacers are a bunch of hypochondriacs, Doctor. I did serve in Space Fleet for thirteen years.” For his part, he felt far more at home aboard the New Jersey than he had on Oasis’ surface. Maybe it was merely the lingering novelty of his first command, but right now he’d much rather be aboard the cruiser than on a planet. He’d felt close to the Jersey since the day he’d assumed command of her, and after what they’d been through, that had only increased.
I understand her. And I might just be crazy enough to believe that she understands me.
Of course, there was also the fact that lately, planets had proved capable of producing Xanthic at a moment’s notice. So far, that hadn’t happened aboard a warship.
Cruz nodded. “Yes, sir. At any rate…a corpsman is with Tiller, at the moment. Doing her best to keep him calm.”
Thatcher could see that for himself. They’d arrived at the window looking in on the examination room where Tiller had chosen to make a spectacle of himself. The corpsman had her back to Thatcher and Cruz, and her hands were raised toward Tiller in a calming gesture. But from the corner he’d pressed himself into, Tiller’s eyes had already drifted past her to lock onto Thatcher’s. A thin line of blood extended from the spot where the scalpel blade met his neck.
Thatcher glanced at the doctor, whose forehead was lined with worry. “How is everything else going, Doctor?”
Cruz returned his gaze, confusion clouding his eyes. “Everything…else, sir?”
“Yes. The rest of the crew. What’s your sense of their overall mood? Are they anxious about the mission?”
“Captain….” Cruz cleared his throat. “With all due respect, shouldn’t we wait until you’ve spoken with Tiller before discussing the rest of the crew?”
Thatcher turned back to look at the suicidal crewman, chuckling. “Not to worry, Doctor. Tiller asked to see his captain, didn’t he?”
“Uh, well…yes.”
He nodded. “It’s not every day you can make the ship’s captain come running at your beck and call. I’m sure Tiller will wait until after he’s experienced that to kill himself.”
The good doctor seemed at a loss for how to reply to that, and Thatcher decided to wait until after dealing with Tiller to continue his inquiry into the mood of the Jersey’s crew. Cruz almost looks as distraught as Tiller does. “What brought on his outburst?
A professional mask fell over Cruz’s face as he settled back into more familiar territory. “Tiller came to me complaining of insomnia. He said he has the same recurring dream, of Xanthic invading his family’s Martian home and murdering them. It wakes him multiple times each night, and during the day he has to push himself just to perform his duties. In the middle of our discussion, he began demanding to know how we would get the wormhole open again. Whether he could expect to see his family again. I…didn’t have answers for him, and things escalated rather quickly after that.”
Thatcher’s lips formed a thin line. Poor bastard. “Thank you, Doctor.” He strode toward the hatch.
“What’s all this nonsense?” he said as he stepped into the examination room, letting the hatch swing toward its frame behind him. It didn’t quite close, however. Normally, Thatcher wouldn’t dream of being so sloppy, bu
t by leaving it open he increased the amount of social pressure bearing down on Tiller. Cruz would hear what he said next, along with anyone else within earshot. Not to mention Thatcher himself.
“N-nonsense, sir? I’m at the end of my rope. I don’t think I can take it anymore.”
“Take what, exactly?”
Tiller’s hand trembled—the one holding the scalpel to his neck. “Any of it. The Xanthic, sir. By shutting down the wormhole, they divided us. Now they’re conquering us. Popping up where we’ll least expect—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there, Seaman. We don’t know it was the Xanthic that shut down the wormhole.”
“Does it matter?” A sob ripped through Tiller’s voice. “There’s nothing we can do to help Earth, and nothing they can do to help us. It’s over. For all of us—every human alive.”
“Shut up.” Thatcher took a step forward, and the man’s hand twitched. He hadn’t meant to speak so harshly, but Tiller was making him angry. “Just shut up for a moment, will you? It does matter if the Xanthic were the ones to close the wormhole. Because if they didn’t, and it was a coincidence, then it wasn’t part of their plan. They might not be as powerful as we think.”
Tiller shook his head. “Sorry, sir. But I haven’t heard anything to convince me that I’ll ever see my daughter again. Alive or dead.”
“Then hear this.” Thatcher took another step forward, and Tiller’s eyes widened even further. “Do you think the people of Earth Local Space are just going to lay down and die? Do you think they’ll give up their lives willingly to a bunch of overgrown bugs? That’s not the neighbors I remember leaving. It’s not the species I remember belonging to. We’ve been beaten down since we crawled out of Earth’s oceans, but we’ve overcome everything nature’s ever thrown at us. Everything. We never quit. We never say die. So if you try to tell me I’m going to return to Earth Local Space to find everyone I knew and loved dead, then I take that as a personal insult, and I won’t have it aboard my ship. Humanity will win.”
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