Keltan's Gambit: Chronicles of the Orion Spur Book 2

by Michael Formichelli

  “Ah, what?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “She does. She looks up to you.”

  He grimaced, hearing the ghost of her mother’s screams. “But I failed to protect her, or her family.”

  “She doesn’t see it that way. Considering your special standing, you deserve to know a few things about us. I met her four years ago when her surrogate father, Chief Irin of Savorcha, brought her here with him. The Savorchan delegation came to discuss Revenant with my father and some of our allied barons. Towards the end of that conference, she and I connected. We have been in almost constant communication since. It was not until these last few months we have been able to realize that relationship.”

  “Um, okay,” Nero said, unsure of where this was going.

  “I suppose I should just say it. I intend to marry her once things are settled.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded.

  “Ah, um.” Nero scratched his chin.

  “Do you object?”

  “No—no, it’s nothing like that. Congratulations, I guess. I don’t know why you’re—oh, never mind.” At least she’d live in the lap of luxury, he thought. Once he arrested Revenant, it might even be a safe life. It didn’t excuse his failure, but if Setha landed right he could at least take comfort in that.

  Baron Mitsugawa continued. “I know, this is sudden news for you. For us, it is a long time coming.”

  Nero licked his lips. “Congratulations, really, and thank you for everything you’ve done for us.” He stroked his face, feeling the smooth skin.

  “Thank you for everything you are doing.” Mitsugawa bowed his head for a moment. “Oh, you will need this, I think.” He reached into the fold of his kimono and produced a freshly printed Shiragawa GX-228 gauss pistol. The weapon was slightly larger than the PX-28 he lost on Elmorus when Qismat attacked, and had a side-mounted target scanner, and integrated high-energy laser beneath the gauss barrel that could be set to stun and burn mode.

  “I couldn’t—“ Nero said, looking at the gift with wanting eyes.

  “Please, it’s only a token of what I owe you for your help. The laser only gets six shots before it has to recharge, but it’ll come in handy in zero-G environements,” Baron Mitsugawa said.

  “I—“

  “I insist.” He held the weapon up to Nero’s gaze.

  “Okay.” Nero grinned, taking it in his hand. “Thank you.”

  Baron Mitsugawa handed him the holster for the pistol, then frowned. “Mamiya-san just contacted me. There is a ship approaching. It is of an odd design. My flight control says it was undetectable until recently. I will forward you the telemetry. It looks like a half-shell with a rail of some kind mounted on top. Do you know of this design?”

  Prospero accepted the feed and the image formed in his mind.

  Annihilator-class, Prospero said. They are Daedalus’ FTL vessels.

  Nero looked away from the baron. FTL? How is it approaching the planet?

  Daedalus developed a new drive system that is not known in the Confederation. It is a low-mass FTL drive like the AlCas system, but with the speed of modern Hawking-Etheric Drive. They were rare, as far as I knew, with DX-1000’s like the Akanda being less resource-intensive to produce. That Daedalus sent one here is troubling. He must really want us back immediately.

  Oh, Nero thought. Shit.

  “It’s one of Daedalus’,” he said to the baron.

  “Flight control concurs, and states it self-identified as carrying the Abyssian, Praetor Athame. It seems I’m not the only one building new vessels.”

  “What?” Nero frowned.

  Interesting, Prospero thought.

  “Never mind. Come, we should make sure all is ready. She will be here soon,” Baron Mitsugawa said.

  Agent Khepria was already packing their effects when Nero arrived in the suite. She wore her CSA uniform, cleaned and pressed, except for the fingered boots which were still stored by the main donjon entrance downstairs. Sitting on the woven-mat floor, she used her hands and her hand-like feet to place their gear and clothing into the four black cases they brought from the Akanda. Lying next to them was Nero’s Abyssian Praetor uniform with the pin of the Eye on its left lapel.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” he said when the door slid shut behind him.

  “No, I did not.” Her ears twitched.

  He moved over to the uniform, looking down at it and licking his lips. “I won’t be wearing this.”

  Her amber eyes looked up at him, catching the light so they seemed to glow. “You should. Praetor Athame, I think, will be expecting you to do so. Since we’re going to ask for a ride to Zov, it is probably for the best.”

  You should listen to her, Nero, Prospero added.

  “I just don’t think I am comfortable doing it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I had intended to wear the clothes that the baron provided us.”

  She stopped packing and rose to her feet. “You should wear this.”

  He sighed. “All right, if it will get us to Zov to find Kaeden Faen, but I won’t be as I was. I think—” he hesitated. “I think that maybe I’ll need to be done with this after this is over.”

  “With this?” Her ears twitched in opposite directions.

  He licked his lips. Something was in her amber gaze, peeking out from behind her feline pupils. It was familiar, and he had the vague sense that it was attached to a memory behind the wall in his mind that he couldn’t see over—but it was more than that. He felt something respond to it in himself. The feeling stirred within him, making him feel weak in his gut, and filled him with a strange nervousness as he realized what she thought he meant.

  “Even if that is true, you are an Abyssian until then,” she said.

  “I don’t mean I’ll be done with you.”

  “No?” Her ears spasmed.

  “I’m sure of that.” He took a deep breath. “I know how hard you worked to get Prospero fixed on Elmorus, and I haven’t forgotten the times we’ve worked together before that. You’ve backed me up even before the Keltan assignment on Earth.” He hesitated. She’d only ever known him as an Abyssian, but without his true memories he could say the same about himself. Of all the beings he knew in the Spur, he realized, she was the one who knew him as he was now the best. He took a step toward her, bringing himself close enough to smell the sharp, cinnamon-like scent of her skin. She looked up into his eyes.

  “I am not like the rest of them. I’m convinced I did not start out as a machine, and I’m only partly one now.”

  “Who is not?” she said.

  “That’s different. You know what I mean by this, right?”

  She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I know.”

  There were lines of tension in her face that did not usually accompany the twitching of her ears.

  “Nero, you are my partner. We have spent nearly a year at each other’s side on this case, and if you count the time we have worked together in the past, we have been together a long time. I care about you very much. You are the biggest figure in my life.” Her ears danced in the air above her head.

  He frowned, feeling his palms grow slick. “I am? There isn’t anyone back on Kosfanter or—” he stopped himself, feeling awkward and dry-mouthed. Had he guessed her meaning right?

  “No, there is no one. I am too busy to have much of a social life. Also, I like strange things for my species, like the ground beneath my feet, and things from old Earth. I do not fit in. You are my closest relationship.”

  “Relationship?” His eyes widened.

  She nodded. Her temples and the tips of her ears were connected by waves.

  “What are you saying?” He could hear both of them breathing. He couldn’t remember a time when he was this nervous before, and he wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted or dreaded what she was going to say.

  Khepria inhaled and clenched her fists. She reached out with both hands and grabbed his arms, pulling until their bodies were in contact. She wrapped t
hem around him and squeezed with her head on his chest. She held him for a moment, then moved to take a step back, but he caught her in his own arms and hugged. He felt her stiffen, and her ears tickled the tip of his chin. He took a deep breath, filling his nostrils with her as she warmed his chest. There was something about holding her that felt both good and ached at the same time. It was the first time in his memory that he could remember holding someone this way, and yet he also felt like he’d missed it terribly. If there was any doubt that he was human before, this removed it entirely from his mind.

  “I am sorry. That was not appropriate.” She pushed back from him. He held onto her arms above the elbows, allowing only a little space between them.

  “It’s okay, Sorina. I think I haven’t done that in years.” He said, calling her by her first name. He was shaking inside, feeling like he was in freefall. He licked his lips, feeling like a complete buffoon. What did people say in these situations?

  It depends on what they want, Prospero answered. Never mind that I think this is entirely inappropriate behavior on both your parts. If you ignore that, as I would not be inclined to do, what would you want to happen here, Nero?

  He bit his lower lip, uncertain of the answer. The question hadn’t really been relevant until now, until he realized he was a real person, and not one of Daedalus’ machines bound to obey orders forever. He could really have a life, and make his own choices. Maybe she could be part of that life. He wanted her to be, he knew that much, but he hesitated.

  “You’re the biggest person in my life, too,” he began, “aside from Prospero. Ah—I mean, no matter what happens next I can’t imagine you not being a part of my life. I’m just, um, new at this. It was only recently I even realized I could have a life outside of serving Daedalus. I don’t know what I’m going to learn on Zov, if anything. I could have a friends I don’t know about, or family—“

  Her eyes fixed on his. “I know.”

  “The next few months are going to be rough,” he said, not quite sure where he was going with it.

  “It will remain an honor to be on your side,” she said.

  He smiled. “For me, too, Sorina.”

  There was a knock at the door. “It’s Setha.”

  He frowned. “Enter.”

  Sorina turned towards the window as the door slid open. Setha entered in a pearl-white kimono The cape of her black hair rippled in the air behind her.

  “The Abyssian is nearly here.”

  “I know,” Nero responded.

  “I want to make sure of something before you depart for Zov,” she said.

  “Of what?”

  “Zov is a quarantined VoQuana world. They are more powerful than you realize, more powerful than Daedalus realizes. Captivity has made them worse.” The green light in Setha’s eyes flared.

  “How is it possible Daedalus doesn’t know?” Nero asked. “He’s watching them.”

  “It is a machine, but humanity gave it a mind and a will. It has ego, and like all things with ego it is incapable of seeing past it. Zov can be your doom if you go unprepared. I want to make sure that doesn’t happen, that we won’t lose you.” She stepped forward until she was centimeters away. Her hand came up and pressed to the center of his chest. He felt a surge of heat that verged on painful cut into his sternum and jerked back.

  “What the hell was that?” His nostrils filled with the smell of ozone.

  “A way to stay connected,” she said.

  Sorina turned around. Her ears vibrated. “What did you do?”

  He rubbed at the spot she’d touched. It burned and the flesh around it was tender. He looked from Setha to Sorina.

  “I infused him with my nanomachines. Each functions as a quantum communicator, among other things. Once he gets used to them, we’ll be in contact no matter the distance.” She looked right at him. “If you need help, I will know.”

  I am detecting the presence of millions of weak neutrino signatures within our chest. They are spreading. Should I initiate our own nanodefenses?

  No, leave it be, Prospero. Nero thought.

  Sorina took a step forward, but he waved her off.

  “Be careful on that ship. Athame will be even more Daedalus’ servant than you were, and Daedalus will be able to act through it. You are special, Nero. I do not think having Prospero offline for so long was part of Daedalus’ plan. What do you think the machine-god will do when it realizes you are regaining your true self? Do you think it will delete your memories?” Setha looked at Khepria.

  “There is a chance he will not remember?” Her ears vibrated and she grabbed her red braids.

  “If Daedalus determines these last months as outside the experiment’s parameters, then yes. You know machines better than I do. What does Prospero say?” Setha asked him.

  I would not hazard a guess in this area, Nero. I am still trying to come to grips with all of this.

  Sorina trembled.

  Nero frowned. “What if that does happen?”

  “I will make sure you will remember,” Setha said, “whether or not Daedalus likes it.”

  Sorina stared at her for a long moment before speaking. “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome. Neither one of us wants to see Nero slip back into the machine’s grasp.”

  “You are staying here?” Sorina asked, surprising him.

  “I have obligations here, though I admit they concur with my desires. However, I will always owe Nero my life. If he needs me, I will come.”

  Her words stirred something within him. “Are you going to be all right?”

  “I will be fine.” Her voice, for just a moment, was that of a normal girl instead of the half-whisper she used since they met on Elmorus.

  He nodded, still rubbing his chest. “Are you happy?”

  Her eyes seemed to focus on something far away and a slight smile curled the corners of her lips upward. “Yes.”

  The sensation of a great weight he didn’t know was there lifted. “I’m glad. This baron seems like a good guy. Keep him safe, and be careful while I’m gone, Kiertah.”

  She focused on him. The smile faded, but its ghost remained in the dimples of her cheeks. “I will, Nero Alexander Graves. Watch yourself. Remember, Daedalus is not your friend.”

  “My lord,” Einaga Hiroaki bowed, his body board-stiff in black-and-white armor. He stood in front of two-stories of bronze-plated door between the receiving hall and the parade ground. Lines of jinzōbushi stood on either side of the wide chamber, their metal hands resting on the hilts of Ākuha katanas.

  Ichiro approached him. Half of his entourage was Einaga relatives. Behind him, though, stood Mamiya-san, Commander Armstrong, Setha, and her cerberai, Tengu. Thanks to her gift, he could feel his aunt’s tension. It wasn’t quite hostility, but it was like a laser-drill on his teeth. She was unusually difficult in the weeks since his arrival, but as of late he started to think it might go beyond his aunt being her usual, overzealous self. Her son Junichi was arrogant in the extreme, and clearly opposed his vision for the future of Shiragawa and Taiumikai. Was it possible she shared his views? If so, she hadn’t spoken of it, but could he trust any of them if that was the case?

  He stopped a stride from Hiroaki and returned the bow as was appropriate. “Has the Praetor arrived?”

  “Minutes from it.” A frown bent Hiroaki’s gaunt face. “I would feel better if you were armored, Mitsugawa-uesama.”

  He heard Aki’s sharp intake of breath behind him.

  “I will be fine.” Ichiro nodded. He wore a black kamishimo—a wide-shouldered jacket—with the symbol of his house replicated on either side of the shoulders over a like-colored kimono. Hoshinagi rested, gleaming brilliant-white from its place in his obi. “I have you and the rest to protect me, after all.”

  Hiroaki’s eyes strayed over those behind him. “Only the mercenary is armored.”

  “I will be fine.” Ichiro looked back, giving Armstrong a nod. A flicker of her mismatched eyes served to return the gestur
e from within her open faceplate.

  “The abyssian ship is a little larger than we were anticipating. It plays havoc with our sensors as well. The only reason I allowed it near us is by your orders.” He turned and waved at the doors. With a hiss they slid open as smooth and silent as a theater curtain.

  The moment Ichiro saw it he felt his jaw go slack. The convex belly of the craft shrouded the whole of Fuyūyōsai in a deep shadow. Its lowest point was over the parade-ground, and only a narrow strip of daylight could be seen between the ship’s edge and the top of the walls. Its surface was smooth like the base of a marble, and along its perimeter shimmered a haze of distorted air. He was expecting something like Nero’s ship, but this was several orders of magnitude larger. An aperture opened at the base of the curve and cast a column of blue-white light down to form a bright spot on the white-pebble ground. His troops were arranged in a wide circle around it, looking like ants beneath the heel of a boot.

  “Do we have anything in the air at the moment?” he whispered.

  “Yes, my lord. I have two wings of aerospace fighters keeping their distance, and the orbital defenses stand ready.” Hiroaki’s jaw muscles pulsed.

  “This is a new class of ship for the machine,” Setha said in her carrying whisper.

  “The Praetor called it an Annihilator-Class. Catalog as much as you can,” Ichiro said.

  Hiroaki bowed and stood to the side.

  “I see Daedalus intends to impress us.” Aki pushed her way to the front of the entourage.

  “It has succeeded. Are there any weapons on that thing?” Jiro asked from behind her.

  “There is a large rail like projection on its flat top that we estimate may be some kind of cannon, but we cannot be sure without some direct scans. As I said, we do not appear to be able to scan it,” Hiroaki replied.

  “Too bad we can’t take it apart,” Junichi mused from the back of the group. “If only Daedalus would share more of his secrets, right?”