by Chris Ward
There were some great reputations across the Estron Quadrant, but none greater than that of Raylan Climlee, now officially Independent Economic Adviser to the Trill System Government.
As soon as Raylan was within arm’s range, Kyle dropped to one knee, his head bowed as low as possible to ensure it was below the warlord’s height.
‘Get up.’
Kyle waited a few seconds, then did as he was bid.
‘Are your ships in place? We will get one chance.’
Kyle nodded. ‘The freighters are moving out of deep space as we speak, their armies being awoken. The phalanx of Shadowmen ships with your carbon-frozen army of Evattlan warriors are waiting near the outlying moon of Jol, ready to move to Cable on your command. The full ground assault will be in position by the time the Helix claims Feint, and the Records Depository will be claimed. With the wormholes under our control, we will have taken the system before the space fleet is even mobilized. From there, the Estron Quadrant will be ours.’
‘Good, good. You understand I will accept no failure?’
‘Of course, Lord.’
Raylan, his face vaguely catlike, frowned. ‘You know, I consider death a distraction. I don’t like its permanency. I much prefer to keep those who fail me alive, so that they can continually be reminded of their failings, for years, and years … and years.’
Kyle bowed again. ‘Yes, Lord. It is understood.’
‘And have you captured Lianetta Jansen yet? I hear from Captain Snell that your dear sister-in-law came within our grasp.’
‘She has proved slippery and elusive, like a tapeworm.’
‘Your answer is a no?’
‘We are close to apprehending her.’
‘How close?’
‘Very. My intelligence informs me that she will soon be returning to Trill System.’
Raylan cocked his head. One hand stroked at air to the side of his face, as though imagining whiskers. ‘Your intelligence, Jansen? You have none. Your continued failure to perform a simple task frustrates me. You remain alive because those who might take your place are equally useless. However, I need this concluded.’ His face began to redden, his body to shake as he clenched his little fists by his sides. ‘I need that heathen woman caught!’
‘It will be done.’
Raylan howled, aiming a kick at Kyle that succeeded only in striking the taller man a glancing blow across the thigh. Kyle feigned great hurt by tumbling theatrically to the floor, clutching his leg.
‘Forgive me, Lord!’
‘Get up, fool. I have something I must show you.’
Kyle, flanked on either side by the warlord’s guards, was led to a waiting shuttle, which took them out to a large cruiser flying under an Event System flag, something Kyle guessed was fake. On arrival, he found himself surrounded by lines of armed men performing military drills in the main hangar, preparing for a ground assault.
He thought of Lia, wondering if it wasn’t too late to make amends. It would only take a single transmission to alert Trill System’s space fleet, which could crush Raylan’s primitive navy within a few Earth-hours. Caught by surprise, however, they were ducks waiting to be gunned down.
‘This may come as a surprise,’ Raylan said, leading Kyle down into the bowels of the ship. ‘Particularly as I have become a respectable politician these days … however, there are a few skeletons in my closets, some of which are yet to become skeletons.’
Kyle nodded, and made interjections in all the required places, despite having little idea of what Raylan was talking about.
‘Death, as I have pointed out, is often too final. A corpse has little bargaining value. A hostage, on the other hand … can be worth its weight in refined trioxyglobin.’
Raylan reached up to activate a control panel, and twin doors slid open to reveal a long, dark corridor lined with doors so close together it felt more like a locker room. As they entered, Kyle realised the doors were glass-fronted. Inside, bodies stood held in stasis. Most were human or human-subspecies, others were off-worlders, many from species he didn’t recognise.
‘I call this place my museum. Some of these … exhibits … are Earth-centuries old.’
Still certain a question would get him killed, Kyle simply said, ‘An impressive display.’
‘So it is. Of course you are impressed.’
‘Of course, Lord.’
‘I would very much like to add Lianetta Jansen to my collection.’ Raylan stopped beside a cubicle halfway along, and turned to face the man trapped inside, eyes closed, hands held against his sides with restraints, head supported by a brace, skin a pale white as though frozen. ‘To complete my set.’
Kyle stared. It was like looking into a mirror reflecting a younger version of himself.
‘You haven’t—’
‘I have. All these years Lianetta Jansen has roamed the Estron Quadrant, struggling to overcome the death of her beloved family, and they’re not dead at all. I have both her husband—your brother—and her son—your nephew—right here.’
Raylan moved to the adjacent cubicle, and Kyle’s jaw dropped at the sight of a little boy held in similar stasis to his father.
‘Obviously, a little time has gone by. She has aged—as have you—while they have stayed inert, a perfect snapshot of a past life. Do you think she will appreciate my gift? Do you, Jansen?’
Raylan’s ugly little face turned up to Kyle, and Kyle had the prickling sensation that he was talking to an angry little monster from ancient folklore, a vengeful spirit, a malicious imp.
‘I’m sure she will be delighted,’ Kyle said, mouth dry.
‘Of course she will,’ Raylan said. ‘Of course. I know how much she loves them, how she would do anything to see them restored to her. And you know how kind and forgiving I can be, don’t you, Jansen? I’m willing to strike a deal with dear Lianetta.’ He rubbed his fingers together, as though running them through fur, then his face broke into a snarl that made Kyle flinch.
‘And to see them set free, all she has to do is take their place.’
28
Lia
‘How long did you let me sleep?’
‘Long enough,’ Caladan said. ‘We’ve arrived.’
Lia rubbed her eyes. ‘You could have achieved the same effect by leaving me in a recreation room with a bottle of whisky.’
Caladan smirked. ‘I would have if I could find any. This is a navy vessel, built for clean living. I’ve searched it, and my findings—or lack of—disgust me.’
‘There’s some on the Matilda.’
‘It got smashed during your firefight with that Barelaon fleet. I checked.’
‘So where are we?’
Caladan grinned. ‘Watch this.’ He pressed a switch, and a three-dimensional hologram of the Trill System appeared in the air in front of them. ‘High technology at its best. See that flashing red blob? That’s us.’
Lia nodded. Through a roundabout route, they were now in the same sector of Trill System as the GMP outpost where Kyle Jansen had imprisoned them. Swinging toward them on its orbit around the Trill star, Feint, the system’s largest populated planet and seat of its government, was just a short inter-system stasis-ultraspace hop away.
‘We could be at Feint in a couple of Earth-hours,’ Lia said.
‘We could, but that’s where the Barelaon are going. This ship can track their progress. They’re currently in the wormhole—oh.’ He took a step back as a large red mass appeared near to the grey dot indicating Feint. ‘They’ve arrived.’
‘And the Trill System star fleet? Where are they?’
‘On their way. Too late, I suspect.’ Caladan turned to her. ‘This system is done—you know that, don’t you? No single system navy can defeat a force that large. Only if the whole Estron Quadrant unites and they roll out all those shiny starships they’ve got crowding the docks on Rogue and Galanth, only then will they have a chance.’
‘Are they coming?’
Caladan shrugged. ‘How am I
supposed to know? I spent most of the time while you were in recup trying to convince the computerized drinks machine over there to dispense whisky.’
‘That wasn’t very useful, was it?’
‘It would have been if it worked. Look, that’s a joke. I sent off full-ranging distress transmissions to all systems. I even used the authorisation of the Phevian Navy, for which this ship was built, to try to give it extra weight. Whether anyone will listen, I don’t know. There are other things brewing, though.’
‘Like what?’
‘I figured we could open up a little box of payback while we were in the area, so I brought us through a stasis-ultraspace wormhole near that GMP outpost that provided such fine hospitality. I fancied a few well-placed rockets into that supposedly stricken freighter. Only problem is, it’s gone.’
‘Gone?’
‘The ship that couldn’t fly suddenly figured out how.’
‘Where is it?’
‘Here.’ Caladan pointed at the hologram. A small red dot appeared in orbit above Cable, Trill System’s second largest planet.
‘What’s it doing there?’
‘My guess is someone fancies a change of government.’
Lia bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. ‘Raylan Climlee.’
Caladan turned to face her. ‘While I know how honest a space traveler you think I am, believe it or not, I didn’t purchase this brand new naval battleship with the salary you don’t pay me. Sooner or later, the rightful owners are going to get wind that it’s taking a sightseeing trip around Trill System and we’ll have friends on our tail. My suggestion is this. We can’t beat a Barelaon Helix. I’m not even sure what it is, but I saw that thing swallow a moon. I’m keen to get to the other end of the known galaxy, but let’s at least send this thing on its way with a decent firefight. We head to Cable, take out the freighter and whatever else we find floating around over there, then we get away on the Matilda and find ourselves a new hunting ground. What do you say?’
Lia held up a hand. ‘Deal.’
‘You purposely did that to my left side, didn’t you?’
Lia smiled. ‘Of course.’
Caladan laughed. ‘I’ve missed you, Captain.’
Caladan set the course, then headed off down to the Matilda, stating that he felt like a gas fish out of a proton tank sitting around on a ship’s bridge that didn’t need him. Lia stared out at the panoramic wall of stars for a while, then went to check on Harlan5. While still looking worse for wear, the droid had received a replacement leg, and the damage to his chassis and head unit had been repaired. A cable connected him with a mobile mainframe computer which was processing an upgrade.
‘No signs of any infections yet,’ he said, looking up as Lia entered. ‘Our former pilot really found a quality vessel. It disconnects each component then runs a decontamination flush to ensure no viruses can pass through to the ship. My programming is quite curious as to where he stole it.’
‘Don’t get used to it,’ Lia said. ‘We’ll be leaving on the Matilda again in a few hours.’
Harlan5 tilted his head. ‘Just as I was getting used to a little luxury.’
Lia smiled. ‘Enjoy it while you can.’
She headed back up to the bridge, where she found a beaming Caladan sitting in the captain’s chair with his feet up on the computer terminal and his only hand behind his head.
‘You know, that replacement pilot you found really left a stench on my seat,’ he said. ‘I’ve had to have a droid give it a good vacuum clean.’
Before Lia could reply, a siren blared, accompanied by a series of flashing red lights. The stars blurred, then went still, their positions slightly different to before.
‘We’ve arrived,’ Caladan said, as the siren and lights cut out.
The great blue-green curve of Cable stretched out below them. Roughly of the same proportions as Old-Earth, it supported nearly twenty-five billion people, about half of them descended from early colonizing humans, the rest from hundreds of different off-worlder species. Like many life-supporting planets, Lia knew, it had been discovered with only primitive forms of flora and fauna, which had been systematically cleared for humans to set up a similar industrial wasteland that had destroyed Old-Earth. Only the later influence of more conscientious off-worlder species had kept its atmosphere from dissolving.
Caladan was waving his hand around in the air, and a moment later another hologram appeared. This one was a close-up, with Cable a large ball in the centre, surrounded by clusters of red dots.
‘They’re over on the dark side,’ Caladan said.
Lia frowned. ‘Is that the Trill System Starfleet?’
Caladan looked grim. ‘No. That’s someone else’s, but it’s huge.’ He tapped a computer terminal, and a series of images appeared with lines of text alongside. ‘Shadowmen transports likely carrying carbon-frozen Evattlan warriors. That’s their ground infantry.’ He shivered. ‘Bug soldiers with their wraith bosses. What on Old-Earth are we getting in to? I think we’re witnessing the playing out of something that’s been a while in the preparation. Raylan Climlee’s had his stumpy little fingers in way too many pies while no one was watching.’
‘What are they doing here, do you think? The Trill System Government is on Feint. If they wanted to take control of the system, they’d be better off sending their full forces there.’
‘I guess they figure the Barelaon Helix can handle the star fleet.’
‘Where are they landing?’
‘That’s Seen.’ Caladan pointed at a black smear on Cable’s surface. ‘The capital. Obviously that’s their main target, but it seems like their transports are landing near the pole, outside a small settlement called Parlow. Target practice? I’m not sure what they’re bothering to land there for.’
Lia felt her skin tingling. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’ve been there. The Records Depository.’
‘The what? Why would they want to attack a museum?’
‘It’s not a museum, although I guess that’s not far off the truth. It’s an underground bunker in which the archived wormhole data for the system is kept, along with hard copies of all the known wormhole coordinates into and out of the system.’
Caladan shook his head. ‘I’m a gambler and a smuggler. That means nothing to me.’
‘Each system keeps the data on their own wormholes. The Records Depository contains Trill System’s. In the supercomputers there, they have the ability to transmit a scrambler sequence which will block all stasis-ultraspace traffic into and out of the system until further notice.’
‘No one can get in or out?’
‘It’s designed as a last gasp emergency effort in the event of an invasion fleet threatening the system—only in this case, the invasion fleet is already here.’
‘He’s a madman.’
‘An extremely devious one.’
‘He’s going to cut Trill System off, isn’t he?’ Caladan punched the computer terminal. ‘He’s going to annex the system until that Helix thing is done. No need to worry about any attacks while it’s quietly eating its way through a few billion people.’
Lia nodded. ‘That’s it. That’s exactly what he’s going to do. What we have to figure out is how to stop him.’
29
Raylan
‘You say none? None?’ Raylan snapped, jumping off the ground on his agile cat-like feet to get into the Rue-Tik-Tan guard’s face. Despite being more than double Raylan’s height, the guard flinched as though struck. ‘There are no human women on the captured freighter at all?’
‘Lord, the captured freighter out of Bryant in the Quaxar System contains only machine parts being shipped to Loam. Its skeleton crew consists only of thirty-five Grun and five commanding Gorm officers. One, however, identifies as female, if that would please you?’
Raylan slapped the guard across the face, wishing his claws could scratch through a Rue-Tik-Tan’s scales. ‘Are you mocking me?’
‘Lord, I’m merely reporting on the cap
tured ship’s cargo and its crew.’
‘Get out of my sight.’
‘Yes, Lord.’
The guard turned and hurried off. Raylan let out a hiss of frustration. Another captured ship, and yet another failure to find prisoners that would satisfy his needs. Soon, however, his waiting would be over.
War was coming. Wholesale slaughter and destruction, followed by his coronation as the new overlord of the liberated Trill System.
Overlord. Supreme Commander. Assumptive Deity. He hadn’t decided on a title yet, but he had plenty of time to think about it.
A thousand women to fill his bed, and a thousand captured soldiers for his little torture games. And that was just the start.
No one would ever call him short again.
He hurried up to the bridge, his bare feet pattering over the chrome steel floor, the retractable claws—sharpened to razor points—leaving little score marks in the surface. When he entered, all the duty crew turned and knelt as one, holding their poses until he gave an annoyed command to resume their positions. It was irritating, but necessary. If you gave a dog too much leash, it could turn on you.
‘Captain. Our position?’
Captain Thith Al-Thith turned. The spindly Shadowman, nine Earth-feet tall with a head like a ball on top of a metal stick for a neck, tried to execute a bow but stopped halfway, a genetic flaw threatening overbalance.
‘We have received word from Commander Snell, who is leading the front line to Parlow. Our first transports have finished the unfreezing process and his troops are in place.’
‘Good, good.’ Raylan smiled inwardly. Giving Snell the rank of “Commander” had been a disguised insult. The captaincy of a new starship as reward for Lianetta Jansen’s capture was something denied to both Snell and Kyle Jansen after her escape. Jansen, with his family connection to Lia, still had some use, but Snell could now be cannon fodder in the assault on the Records Depository. It was a fitting way to fall for such a useless man.
‘Cable’s planetary navy is mobilising, Lord,’ Captain Al-Thith said. ‘We are in position to begin an aerial bombardment. However, as they are under the pretense that we are here to protect them from the Barelaon threat, may I be so bold as to suggest we wait until they are in their most vulnerable position?’