Cyrith arrived at the precise moment in which the cargo bay doors in the floor opened up to allow the attack skiff to rise and enter into the heart of the praxis. Navigating its way to an open spot amongst the other skiffs, vapors, lancers, and levs, the small ship set down gently. The pilot stepped off and proceeded to march briskly in Cyrith’s direction.
“What do you have to report, Trey?” Cyrith began as soon as he got in range to communicate over a private channel. Malthus would have reprimanded him for his long absence in making contact, but Cyrith did not stand on protocol. All he cared about was whether Trey’s time with the deviants had yielded any sort of useful information.
“One hundred and fifteen Sentients are alive and in command of the praxis Maven,” Trey responded. His clothes were covered in sand and ripped in several places, but his bioseine indicated that he was uninjured.
“Am I to take it then that Malthus is dead? Or has he joined their side?” came Cyrith’s pedestrian reply, as if the possession of a massive warship by their enemy were a relatively inconsequential matter.
“Malthus committed suicide,” Trey answered, his thoughts likewise betraying little emotion.
“And the attack on Manx Core—do you have any information as to how they were able to free the prisoners? We lost a lot of subjects who were slated for remapping in that attack.”
Trey allowed Cyrith to access all of the information he had been able to glean about the attack from Gavin, Adan, and the other Sentients in the aftermath of what had happened in the Core. In this way Cyrith quickly learned about their plan to board the Persepolis and rescue the other prisoners. Most interesting of all, he discovered the means by which Gavin had been spying on them all this time.
“The Chronotrace. So it actually works. And why were you not able to warn us of the deviants’ plans to free the prisoners from Manx Core, seeing as it was your cell which initiated the incursion?” Cyrith asked, still contemplating the implications of what he had just learned.
“I was injured in one of the quakes. I was in a coma when they infiltrated the Core,” Trey answered apologetically.
Cyrith stared out across the array of assembled ships in the bay. He was not overly alarmed at Malthus’ death, or even by the destruction of Manx Core. He was a realist. He could move on and so would the Collective. What truly concerned him was this memorant called Adan. Letting him escape so that they could track down Gavin had turned out to be one of the Developers’ more costly mistakes.
“You did well to find a way to escape without them realizing it. Now that we know their plans, they will be easy enough to counter. But your work with the deviants is not entirely complete. I want you to go back to them. Find Adan and bring him back to me. Since they’re sending him on a mission into the Wayman city, we’ll bring the Persepolis into Hull during the attack and you will persuade him to come on board.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. I will leave at once.”
Without so much as a good-bye or nod of the head, Trey returned to the skiff and it floated back through the opening by which it came.
Cyrith connected his mind back to the Persepolis’ esolace and sought out the new Assessor Primary. “Prestin, we need to move the prisoners. Put them on Level 3, Cell C. We may be having some visitors on board soon and we wouldn’t want to make it too easy for our guests to find them.”
Gavin looked around the Command Center in disbelief.
So Trey had been an agent for the Collective. How had he missed this? Was he slipping as a memorant? No, he had simply been too busy to notice.
He stared out over the other Sentients piloting and monitoring the Maven inside the Command Center and he had to wonder. How many of them plants from the Developers as well?
He did not have time to delve into their thoughts to find out. The trace he had witnessed was nearly a day old. If the Persepolis reached Hull, Adan was as good as dead.
“Raif, do you have the prisoners yet?” Gavin asked, pacing aimlessly up and down the ramp near the exit to the Command Center.
“Almost,” Raif informed him in hushed tones. “I took out the guards with a contingency trigger and now I’m cutting my way into the cell block. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve got Nance and the others in hand.”
“Excellent…” Gavin wasn’t sure he wanted to tell Raif about what he had just discovered. Raif had already made enough rash decisions for one day. Gavin didn’t want him running off to look for Adan as well.
He focused in on the tactical map. The Persepolis was not a fast ship, but it was already within half a click of Hull’s western wall.
“Gavin,” Halerin’s mental presence slipped into his thoughts. He stood on the opposite side of the Command Center, deeply absorbed in a scene from one of the view screens. “We’ve got a visual of some of the first Werin prisoners fleeing the city.”
Gavin’s gaze flitted to the screen. There, a few tiny figures were emerging on the outskirts of Hull.
“Good. Put our last two ships on standby in case they need to run interference in that area if any of the forces from Hull decide to stop them,” he answered. Normally he would have been elated to see the bedraggled Werin staggering across the sand, but he was too worried about Adan at that moment.
“Gavin, I’ve got Nance and the prisoners,” Raif said, his voice bubbling with excitement. “Cade’s group wasn’t there, though. You don’t think the somatarch’s killed them, do you?”
“I doubt it. The Devs don’t usually kill Collectives unless they have to,” Gavin said. “Now listen to me, Raif. Go ahead and get those prisoners on board the tunneler. Von will provide you cover so you can after-burst out of there.”
“I’m not leaving without Cade,” Raif told him.
Gavin sighed. Nothing was ever easy with this man.
“Fine. But at least wait to go back for Cade until after you get the others to safety. We’ll look for them in the chronotrace while you are helping the prisoners.”
“Right,” Raif agreed.
Gavin turned his attention to the visual of the cargo bay on one of the screens. The pilots Halerin had ordered to oversee the rescue operation were mounting up to head out.
“Wait,” Gavin told one of the pilots through the esolace. “Seth, I’m going to need you to take me into the city.”
“But what about the refugees?” Seth replied.
“Arn will have to fly this mission on his own. There are other people in the city who need our help.”
Seth offered no further resistance, mounting his skiff and waiting for Gavin to arrive.
“What’s going on?” Halerin asked, his thoughts disoriented by the sudden change in plans.
“I’m going to help a friend,” Gavin declared.
Halerin strode over to stand in front of him.
“You can’t go out there, Gavin. We need you here on the Maven.”
Gavin cast the image of the Persepolis closing in on the city into Halerin’s mind. “Adan failed to contact us at the agreed upon time. I have reason to believe that he might be on that ship. He saved me twice before. I have to find him.”
“How do you know this?” Halerin asked.
“The chronotrace. Check the logs if you want to see what I saw,” Gavin replied. “I have to go. Use the chronotrace to find Cade and relay the information to Raif.”
“But Raif’s already on the ship—why don’t you send him to look for Adan?”
“There’s not enough time for him to do two more rescue missions. As it is he will be lucky to get off that ship alive,” Gavin answered, already heading up the ramp. “If I’m not back by the time you’ve rescued the Werin, take off without me.”
“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Halerin replied.
“Well, Raif isn’t the only one capable of making rash decisions.”
Twenty-Two
Maven Out
Though Gavin no longer had access to the tactical map, the Persepolis was too large to miss as it closed in o
n the beleaguered city of Hull. Seth piloted their tiny skiff across the desert straight for it.
The wind blustering across the skiff drowned out all other noises, but the silver extractor Gavin wore around his neck projected the chatter from the Sentient’s audio channel straight into his mind.
“Dreamer flight, you’ve got a large ship heading your way,” Halerin warned, pulling Gavin’s attention away from the Persepolis to a new ship rising up on the western side of the city. “It looks like it’s from Hull. We certainly never saw anything like this in Manx Core.”
“I’ve got a visual,” Jax replied. “Looks like a…what in the—is that a gendarm?”
“That’s what it’s coming up as on the Maven’s sensors,” Halerin reported.
If the ship was part of the Wayman fleet it was certainly the largest vessel they had. It was about a third of the length of the praxis, though much narrower. It had a flattened, pill-shaped body encased in bronze colored metal plating. More importantly, if it really was a gendarm, it would have two layers of invisible shielding surrounding its chassis. A ship of this class was designed for running blockades, surviving by diverting half the ship’s energy to shields, and most of the rest to the thrusters. These ships typically had only a smattering of weapons, but they were strong enough to make it past more heavily armed ships. As soon as it cleared the buildings, it pivoted and headed off in the direction of the Persepolis.
“The vapors are pulling off us, now,” Von observed. “I think that new ship has their attention.”
The vapors swarmed in front of the Persepolis, reforming for an attack vector on the gendarm. At the same time, the praxis opened fire on the new ship.
The skyline of Hull lit up with the yellow locus pulses and white disruptor fire that pelted the newly launched ship. The gendarm managed to dodge a few of the strikes while the rest dissipated into its shields, causing no visible damage, but this was only the opening salvo. The Persepolis was just getting warmed up.
“Stay close to the praxis if you can,” Halerin ordered. “Raif should be coming topside any moment. You need to make sure the prisoners get off without any trouble.”
“I’m one step ahead of you,” Raif chimed in. “We’re coming up now.”
“I see you,” Von said. The two remaining Sentient lancers circled the Persepolis, steering clear of the path of fire between the praxis and the gendarm.
“Do you have all the prisoners?” Halerin asked.
“Yes. Nance and the whole crew. Had to plow through a bunch of somatarchs camped out around the opening, but nothing a few contingency triggers couldn’t handle. Nance will bring them home in the citus. I’m going back for Cade.”
“Great work, Raif, and great timing, too. I’ve got the location where Cade is being held. Level 5, Cell block D,” Halerin informed him. “Be careful. It’s heavily guarded.”
“I’ll be fine, Hal. Most the assessors are out flying the ships. I can out dance a few more hollow heads,” Raif said.
“We’ll be here to pick you up when you get back,” Von promised.
“We’re in the citus,” Nance reported a few moments later. “The tunneler’s loaded up. Taking off now.”
“All right,” came Jax’s rumbling reply. “We just might pull this off after all.”
The ship lifted off, after-bursting away from Hull so fast it sailed out beyond the Persepolis’ firing range in a burst of light.
They did it, Gavin thought. They actually did it. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks. Now if Raif could just find the prisoners and get off the ship.
The vapors were well within range to fire on the gendarm by now. The ship was large enough to weather substantial amounts of conventional fire, but the people inside would have no defense against the vapors’ oscillathe canons.
The gendarm returned fire with an anemic barrage from a handful of locus cannons on either side of the ship. The squat barrels spat out yellow beams at the vapors, but the shots seemed to be random at best. It looked like they weren’t even using targeting systems, just firing with the naked eye. A couple of shots connected, but none of the vapors went down.
More Collective ships moved in from other parts of Hull. Three lancers and a dozen attack skiffs were now heading for the gendarm, fresh from their disposal of some of the lesser Waymen ships. The Persepolis let off a second volley with similar results, causing no visible damage, but no doubt further weakening the shields.
“That ship is taking a pounding,” Jax muttered. “The shields won’t hold up much longer. And if the praxis doesn’t finish them off, those vapors are wreaking havoc inside her.”
“It’s a defensive ship,” Halerin said. “If the leaders of Hull had any sense, they’d be flying it the other way, trying to save as many of their people as possible.”
“Good thing for us, they don’t,” Jax said.
“I just hope it can hold out until Raif gets back,” Von said.
Dreamer flight spiraled around the praxis, unmolested for now, but the gendarm wouldn’t last long.
The Wayman ship hurtled towards the Persepolis like a giant metal fist, blunt and angry. From the speed and trajectory of its flight, the gendarme’s intentions were clear: it was going to ram the Collective flagship. Under normal circumstances, that might have been a viable tactic, trade one ship for another. But the velar hull of the Persepolis was no ordinary hull. As large as the Wayman ship was, the gendarm wouldn’t even scratch it.
Gavin’s skiff crested the walls of the city in time to witness with his own eyes as the lancers and attack skiffs opened fire on the gendarme.
The Wayman ship took massive amounts of fire, but would not be denied. Its shields held and the gendarm met the Persepolis just outside of the city. Dreamer flight scattered to the winds as the two hulking ships connected in midair.
The collision sent a hurricane of light and shrapnel exploding through the air, forcing Gavin to shield his eyes. When it was safe enough to look, he saw the last bits of the gendarm plummeting beyond the city walls. Massive chunks of mangled metal sank into the desert, joining the menagerie of endless artifacts which littered the Vast.
The Persepolis burst through the cloud of debris, as pristine as the day it was built and crossed the outer wall of the city. Though pockets of Wayman resistance remained, Gavin’s heart sank. With the fall of the gendarm, the battle for Hull was all but over.
The newly arrived lancers and skiffs, as well as the six vapors, reformed and swooped back around towards the Sentient ships orbiting the praxis.
“Looks like trouble,” Jax said.
“Stay separated and keep them busy,” Von instructed.
“I’ll do what I can,” Jax said grimly.
As the two lancers shot out from beneath the Persepolis to the other side, Gavin lost sight of them momentarily.
The Collective ships fanned out to head off the two rogue vessels darting around their flagship.
“Halerin, we can’t take on this many ships,” Von pleaded. Gavin thought for the first time he heard real fear in his voice.
“At least we’ll die free,” came Jax’s hollow reply.
Hurry, Raif, Gavin pleaded silently.
Jax looped his ship back around the praxis and emerged on top of it. The maneuver put him in perfect position to unload on one of the newly arrived lancers, but it also made him an easy target for the two vapors next to it.
The Collective lancer swerved to escape the bulk of Jax’s disruptor fire, clipping one of the vapors in the process. The vapors must have gotten off a shot anyway though, because Jax’s ship sailed aimlessly off course, dropping rapidly and crashing into the sandy abyss below.
No, not Jax too…
Jax’s death had barely registered with Gavin when Von’s ship slingshotted around the Persepolis into a swarm of enemy ships. Von opened fire on them and many of his shots hit, but only a single vapor went down.
“I’m sorry, Halerin,” Von apologized, his voice cracking. “A
nd I’m sorry, Raif. I did what I—”
The transmission cut short. Gavin’s skiff had just descended into the city so he couldn’t see whether Von’s ship had been shot down or not, but Halerin’s words confirmed his fears.
“You did what you could, Von. That’s all we could have asked.” Halerin’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Dreamer flight is gone, Gavin. Whatever you and Raif do from here on out. You’re on your own.”
Gavin wanted to close his eyes and shut out the world around him, but he feared that if he did, he might never open them again. This was madness. Why was he even here? The faces of Von, Jax, and the others flooded his mind. Their blood was on his hands.
No. They had agreed on the plan together. Their deaths were not in vain. They did what they set out to do. They rescued the prisoners. Gavin had to focus on that and put their deaths aside. He didn’t have the luxury of giving into grief. He had his own mission to accomplish.
Seth maneuvered the skiff through the frenetic streets of Hull. He flew high enough to avoid the streets below, but low enough not to be easily picked off by the Collective ships above. Pandemonium reigned over the city. Everywhere men, women, and children fled to safety, abandoning their homes like streams of blood pouring from open wounds. Everything whipped by so fast that he could barely take it in, but the images would forever be burned in his memory.
The skiff zipped through the jigsaw maze of buildings until it came to the ruins of what must have once been one of the larger buildings of the city. Gavin’s skiff just missed being spotted by a pair of lancers as they ducked in between two large piles of rubble. On the edge of the ruins, their skiff was exposed to any ships coming in from the east, but Gavin gave that little thought because of the sight before him. He had reached the Persepolis at last.
The Chronotrace Sequence- The Complete Box Set Page 86