Defiant (Lightship Chronicles)
Page 32
“Another technology we have yet to be given?”
Serosian took his eyes off the projection and looked at me for the first time, then nodded.
“Where are they going?” I asked.
“That’s what I called you here for,” he said. He reached up and blew the view outward again, then scanned far from the Historian fleet and zoomed in again multiple times. A field of yellow dots, many hundreds of times the number of the Historian fleet, filled up the screen. “Sixty thousand light-years from here, more or less.” I looked at the size of the armada on the screen, and it frightened me.
“If the other fleet is your former comrades heading away from Union space, then who is this?” I asked. Serosian looked away from the projection and back at me.
“It could be the First Empire. Or it could be the Founders, or both. One thing is certain: it’s not a fleet, Peter. It’s a civilization,” he said. I looked at him, dumbfounded.
“Are those ships coming this way?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Hundreds of thousands at least. Perhaps as many as a million.”
“And their intent?” I asked, not really knowing if I wanted the answer.
“I believe they are returning here, to their home. As to why, I have no guesses,” he said.
I sat down in the nearest chair. “How long?” I asked quietly.
He turned off the 3-D projector, then crossed his arms. “Eight years at the outside. Six to seven is more likely,” he said.
I looked around the room, wishing there were something strong to drink to calm my nerves, but there was nothing. I stood again quickly. “Thank you for sharing this with me, my friend,” I said, then made quickly for the door. I opened it to leave, then stopped myself. “Share this with no one else for the moment, if you would.”
“Of course, Peter.”
“And one more thing. Please have Perkins install a fully stocked bar in here. You may never use it, but I may have to,” I finished. He merely nodded, and I shut the door behind me as I left.
I was ready and prepared for our afternoon walk when Karina arrived. The back gardens my mother had planted a decade before I was born were beautiful in the autumn sunshine. I was dressed for mild temperatures: a coat and sweater but no gloves or hat. Those would be reserved for the full winter, most likely after Henry had come. He’ll be a January baby like me, I thought. I privately hoped he would never have to face so many of the choices I had been forced to make.
Karina arrived in slightly heavier clothing: a long, embroidered wool coat, flowered hat, and gloves. She was, after all, the pregnant one. I watched the smile on her face quickly fade as she looked at me. My worry at the news Serosian had just shared with me must have been transparent on my face.
“What’s wrong?” she said, taking my hands in hers. I nodded to the door attendant, and he nodded back to me and walked off, giving us privacy.
“Nothing,” I said, forcing a smile and then opening the glass doors for her. We walked in silence for several minutes. I made for the hydrangeas, always my favorite. When we got there she stopped me, demanding that I share with a simple look and a few choice words.
“Peter Cochrane, I’m about to bring your son into this world—this multitude of worlds. From the look on your face I can only conclude that you’ve just received bad news from Serosian. I want to hear it,” she said. I turned away, looking at the hydrangeas again. Silently she came up to stand beside me, as she seemingly always did, most especially in troubled times.
“I want to know. Is there going to be more war? We’ve worked so hard for this peace, sacrificed so much. And now I’m bringing our child into this universe, and I want to know he’ll be safe,” Karina said. Then she turned me toward her, forcing me to look her in the eyes. “I need to know, Peter. Is this war really over?”
I looked at her for a long moment, then slowly shook my head.
“Over?” I said to her. “It hasn’t even begun.”
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