Zhett joined her father in some of his business meetings, marveling at how adept he was at interpersonal negotiations and barter. Del was a master of the art of politics.
Now that they had a chance again, Patrick and Zhett were able to reconnect with their distillery employees who had fled to Newstation after Kuivahr. They didn’t have Marius Denva, who had been lost in the shadow attack, but they had plenty of competent line managers.
Zhett asked if the crew would be willing to join another Kellum industrial operation. These workers had followed them from place to place, serving first on the great Golgen skymine—which the shadows had destroyed—and then at the Kuivahr distillery, which also ended in a disaster. Zhett was touched that all these people would stay with employers who faced so many “circumstances beyond their control.” But they saw their Guiding Star, and she was glad they did.
Feeling flush and hopeful again, Del rented a banquet room in one of Newstation’s eating establishments. He bought the crew dinner, and as the meal was served, Zhett, Patrick, and Del looked out at the optimistic group. She wasn’t comfortable promising them something so uncertain and intangible, but Del was as blustery as ever while the eager crew ate their spiced noodles with a side dish of fresh fruit from the greenhouse deck.
Zhett tried to enjoy her meal. “I think you’re promising them too much, Dad. You’ve got a line of credit, and we’ve got eager workers, but—in case you haven’t noticed—other clans bought up every scrap of available equipment. A good plan isn’t going to help us harvest ekti-X. We don’t have the tools. How are we going to pull this off?”
“Ah, use your imagination, my sweet.” He sampled yet another clan-produced orange liqueur, which he complained about, but drank anyway.
“I can’t conjure any real equipment with my imagination.”
“Maybe I can make inquiries,” Patrick said. “I still have some favors owed me back in the Confederation.”
“We’ve already got the equipment, by damn.” Del sounded smug.
Patrick frowned. “What? Is it invisible?”
“No, just a little inaccessible, but I’m sure it’s remained intact for the last couple of decades.” He fell silent and sipped his liqueur, stringing them along. Zhett rolled her eyes at the contrived delay.
Del finally explained. “We’ll get everything from our mothballed operations in the Osquivel cometary cloud. All those ships, rigs, and tankers we put up there high above the ecliptic. The equipment was old, but serviceable. We abandoned it in place after the comet-extraction operations stopped being economically feasible.”
He leaned forward and grinned at Zhett and Patrick while the rest of his workers conversed and laughed and ate food on Del’s bill. “These bloaters are a thousand times more efficient. We have everything we need in cold storage—tanks, pumps, and delivery engines. I say we move the whole operation off to the first bloater cluster we find.”
Zhett grinned at her husband. She looked at Patrick, who was smiling just as widely. “That would work,” she said.
“Yes it would, by damn,” Del said. “We already own the equipment, we have our workers.” He finished off his orange liqueur and wiped his lips. “Clan Kellum is back in business!”
CHAPTER
28
ORLI COVITZ
Although she had enjoyed flying with Tasia and Robb aboard the Curiosity, Orli felt much more at ease with Garrison. As the Prodigal Son headed back toward Newstation, DD expressed his optimism. “I will be glad to see young Seth again. I am sure he needs me to help him with his studies.”
“You and I just left him a few days ago, DD,” Orli pointed out.
“He will still want my help,” said the compy. “Seth enjoys spending time with me.”
During the journey, Orli basked in the warmth of Garrison’s company. “When I suggested that we spend a month apart to think about things, I didn’t realize how hard it would be. I guess it wasn’t my best idea.” Orli snuggled up against him.
“We both needed enough time to miss each other.” Garrison put his arm around her. “Now, we’re sure.”
They had been worried that their attraction was one of convenience, a relationship between two lonely people—which they were—but she felt a genuine closeness to Garrison that she had never felt with her former husband. With Matthew, their interests had been more aligned than their hearts. With Garrison, their personalities seemed like interlocking puzzle pieces. When they talked, she took pleasure in the simplest conversation. Orli liked being with him, even doing mundane things. And Garrison liked her—so the puzzle pieces fit together even better, and their two separate lives became one larger whole.…
During the flight to Newstation, the Prodigal Son came upon another silent cluster of bloaters floating in the empty reaches of interstellar space. Garrison deactivated the stardrive and let the ship drift among the gray-green nodules. Orli stared through the main windowport, her face close to his. The bloaters were powerful, mysterious, far from any star. The ship’s lights illuminated the mottled membranes.
Garrison said, “I was in this ship when Seth and I found the first bloaters. We had never seen anything like them, but now they seem to be everywhere. How is it possible we didn’t notice them before?”
“Maybe more of them are appearing?” In her mind she felt a thrumming connection, like the last resonance from a tuning fork just out of the range of hearing. “Remember the ones we saw outside the Ikbir system—clusters and connecting chains that extended far out into space?” She looked at him. “No, we didn’t just miss them before. With all of the Roamer ships flying around the Spiral Arm for centuries, it’s not possible. These are something new.” She drew a deep breath, rubbed the tension at the nape of her neck. “Can you feel it? It’s like a throbbing in the back of my head.”
Garrison’s brow wrinkled. “No … nothing.”
Orli moved her fingers to rub her temples. “It’s there. I can feel it.”
Garrison quickly withdrew the Prodigal Son to a safe distance when several of the bloater nuclei sparkled, giving off bright and energetic flashes. “My ship’s been damaged that way before. I’m not putting you at risk.”
“When they flashed, I felt an extra tingle in my mind,” Orli said. “Maybe I have some kind of connection because I immersed myself in one of them. Do you think I was so weak from the plague that the bloaters changed something in me?”
“They certainly cured you,” Garrison said.
“That was thanks to Aelin,” she said. “Because of his treeling and telink, he forged a clear link with them. Maybe he convinced the bloaters to heal me when I was dying.”
“They’re just gas bags,” Garrison said, “just … space plankton.”
“We don’t know that. Nobody does, and that’s the problem. The extraction operations are draining them by the thousands. What if they are alive?”
“Cabbages are alive,” Garrison pointed out. “So is algae.”
Orli frowned. “You know they’re more than that. If it was just algae, I wouldn’t sense anything.”
She felt a sudden uneasiness. Thousands of bloaters being drained, and she knew that it was because of her—along with Tasia and Robb. Without thinking, they had delivered the remarkable news to Rendezvous that the bloaters were filled with ekti-X, which had sparked hundreds of harvesting operations across the Spiral Arm. She had set the wheels in motion, and she worried about what she had done.
Her eyes stung as the looked out at the peaceful, enigmatic nodules hanging there. “These bloaters feel different to me, Garrison. There’s more energy inside me and inside them.”
She remembered being immersed in the protoplasm, but at the time she had been delirious, weak, and lost. Her being cured had been an anomaly, a surprise. Aelin had insisted that something about the exposure worked just right in her failing body. She could not explain it, and the green priest was now gone.
Orli felt unsettled. The faint presence around her, so warm and powerful here cl
ose to the bloater cluster, made her believe there was something more to them. These nodules were not just sacks of readily available fuel.
She hoped the answer would become clear before the widespread operations drained them all.
CHAPTER
29
TASIA TAMBLYN
When the Voracious Curiosity returned to Earth after their side trip to Fireheart Station, Tasia dreaded all the administrative work that must have piled up in their absence. Rlinda certainly wouldn’t have done it for them.
The big trader woman waved as they emerged from the familiar spacecraft in the Kett Shipping tower. “Glad you brought my ship back without a scratch—and that’s a surprise, considering all you’ve been through.”
Robb looked embarrassed. “We did institute some cosmetic repairs at Newstation, so you wouldn’t notice.”
Tasia added, “The Roamers were happy to help, especially once we told them that bloaters are full of stardrive fuel.”
Rlinda crossed her arms over her chest. “You all caused quite a bit of trouble by breaking the news. So, Kett Shipping is no longer delivering Iswander’s ekti-X?”
Tasia blinked. “Of course not! Shizz, they wiped out half of clan Duquesne, and Elisa Enturi tried to kill us when we found their operations.”
“I didn’t say I disagreed with the decision, girl—in fact, wasn’t I suspicious from the start about where all that stardrive fuel came from?” She clapped her hands. “But with the excitement you generated, we’ll be distributing the ekti-X from a dozen new Roamer operations, so I consider that a net positive. Where’s Orli? I sent her with you for safekeeping.”
As Rlinda walked around the Curiosity, admiring her old ship, they explained about leaving Orli with Garrison back at Fireheart Station. Although she let Tasia and Robb fly her ship, Rlinda still felt quite possessive. “You two need to stop adventuring and sit your butts in your office chairs. I chose you to be administrators so I wouldn’t have to do that crap.”
Robb had a sparkle in his eye. “Does that mean you took care of the management details while we were away?”
“Not a chance—you both have a month of catching up to do … and you’re welcome to it.”
A group of hangar workers, maintenance techs, and interim pilots came to greet them, eager to hear how they had shot their way out of the Iswander extraction field, but Rlinda brushed them aside and hurried Tasia and Robb along. “Come down to the lower hangar. I’ve got something to show you—and someone you’ll want to see.”
A few techs followed, still pestering them with questions, but Tasia waved them off. “We’ll tell the whole story during drinks after hours. In fact, we can meet in the lounge area of Rlinda’s restaurant, if she’ll set it aside for us?”
The big woman nodded. “Cash bar, though.”
Robb said, “And promise there won’t be a band. We want to talk. We’ve got stories to tell, and I’ll make sure Tasia sticks to the facts, for the most part.”
Tasia snorted. They all took a lift down to the next hangar level, where they were surprised to see Xander and Terry waiting for them.
Xander smiled. “There you are! We’ve been fighting black robots and shadow clouds, barely escaping the destruction at Ulio Station—and now you think you can upstage us with some tall tales?”
“We live in exciting times, for better or worse.” Tasia gave her son and his partner warm hugs, as did Robb. Not wanting to be left out, Rlinda took the opportunity to scoop Xander and Terry into an embrace of her own.
OK spoke up. “Are you here to inspect the Verne? We are very pleased at the repairs we’ve completed.”
“We spared no expense,” Xander said. “This is the best ship in the Kett fleet.”
Terry interrupted, “But we won’t be flying regular trade routes anymore. We’ve come up with a way to invest the money Maria left me. Xander and I are going to set up a salvage hub to take the place of Ulio Station. We wanted to seize the opportunity, start a viable business that will help trade everywhere.”
Xander nodded. “They’ll flock to a new place. We just need to find the right location, establish the facilities, find a crew and the necessary equipment, then start collecting ships in need of repair, or total wrecks that we can refurbish as habitation units—like hotels.”
“That’s an ambitious plan,” Robb said. “Where are you going to gather all this stuff?”
“First off, we’re going to take the Verne out to Newstation and see if other Roamers are willing to join us.”
Tasia felt warm inside. “That’s a grand idea.”
Rlinda clapped her hands again, steering Tasia and Robb along. “Enough of the reunion. Back to my office where I can hand over the paperwork. You two have duties, and I want to give the complainers someone else to talk to.”
“Ah, the glamorous life of running a large company,” Tasia muttered.
“Damn right,” said Rlinda. “The real glamorous part comes when you retire and hand off the duties to someone else.”
Rlinda kept the largest penthouse office in the Kett Shipping tower, where she enjoyed the view. Half of her office had been converted into a company kitchen, because she liked to cook for herself and for anyone else who might visit. Since she was such a good cook, she often had visitors.
As soon as they entered the office, though, Rlinda’s mood grew serious. “A lot of bad things are going on out there in the Spiral Arm, things we can’t ignore. I wanted to show you some images from Xander and Terry. They barely limped home in the Verne.” She raised her eyebrows. “We all know what a pain in the ass the black robots are, but the Shana Rei are much, much worse. Watch this.”
The transparent surface of her desk platform displayed the log images of Xander and Terry battling their way from Ulio Station. Ferocious-looking angular ships piloted by black robots soared in, ripping apart the Ulio complex, destroying Roamer ships that scattered, blowing up vessels under repair in spacedock. The Verne barely got away, pursued by robot attackers; Terry activated their stardrive just in time and streaked away, leaving the doomed station behind.
Rlinda’s face was heavy with worry as she slumped into a padded, oversized chair behind her desk. “It makes me nostalgic for the good old days when we were just being chased by hydrogues.”
Tasia felt sick watching it. Robb’s face was distraught. “I can’t believe the boys got out of that.”
Rlinda said, “They may act cocky, but they’re not stupid. When they set up their new Ulio, you won’t need to worry about them any more than you worry about the rest of us.” With a great sigh, she reached forward to pick up a small silver capsule mounted on a Plexiglas stand on her desk. She held it between thumb and forefinger, regarding it with a longing expression.
“What is the Spiral Arm coming to? I could say that I’m glad BeBob didn’t survive to see days like these … but that would be total bullshit. I miss him, and I’d get through this better if he were beside me.” She rubbed the capsule, then lovingly replaced it on its stand.
“Throughout human history, people have said, ‘This is a tough time to be alive.’ If there was ever a perfect golden age, I haven’t found it. We’ll just have to get through.” She looked up at Tasia and Robb, her expression intense. “You will abide by your promise, right? If anything happens to me, see that my ashes are put in a capsule like this one and launch both of us into space, so that Bebob and I can travel together for all eternity.” She forced a small chuckle. “It’s sappy, I know, but that’s what I want.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Robb said.
“Don’t be an idiot. Everybody dies.” She patted her girth.” And look at me—I’m not the picture of health. At my age, I have to think about such things, whether or not there are monsters out to destroy the universe.” Her voice grew harder. “Promise me.”
“Of course we promise,” Tasia said. “But I’d prefer to take care of a lot of other problems first.”
“So would I.” Rlinda stood up and
headed toward the small private kitchen. “Let’s make something to eat.”
CHAPTER
30
ZOE ALAKIS
The more deadly the disease, the more fascinating Zoe found it. And the Onthos plague was endlessly fascinating.
After returning from her nerve-racking journey to Theroc and her successful bargain with the King and Queen, Zoe had isolated herself in her sterile sanctuary on Pergamus, where she could pore over the records about the alien virus.
Throughout her many years at Pergamus, Zoe had lived within her secure habitat, breathing filtered air and eating bland purified food. There, she reviewed the countless research reports her teams submitted as they analyzed deadly pathogens, virulent endoviruses, and recursive genetic maladies, as well as malicious parasites. New diseases seemed to appear just as fast as medical researchers found cures.
The universe was out to kill them. Zoe had always known that, and she would not let her guard down.
Pergamus was an arsenal that contained those malignant microorganisms, and Zoe reveled in them like a collector who managed a zoo of dangerous monsters—monsters too small to be seen, but monsters nevertheless. Degenerative neural diseases, cancers that resisted every known treatment, debilitating muscular diseases, brain parasites—the breathtaking range of virulence made Zoe wonder how the human race had survived this long.
She took comfort in her sterile home, still astonished that she had ever been brave enough to go to Theroc, a place infested with innumerable contaminants. But she had returned home with a tremendous prize: Iswander’s data archive from the plague-soaked Onthos space city.
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