The Reckoning: War of the Ancients Trilogy Book 3

by Alex Kings

  Charin tried to move towards her. The Albascene pulled him back. Before they could say anything else, Hanson and the others were marched out of the room.

  The Albascene guards moved quickly down the corridor.

  Karnasc led the little procession. “There. No tricks this time. Satisfied?”

  “What do you want?” Hanson asked.

  They reached what seemed to be the CIC. It was similar in design to the one they'd just left, but there was a cylindrical tank in the centre.

  Karnasc's suit connected to the side of the tank. The LEDs on its surface went out. There was a mechanical sound, like the suit was opening, and a moment later thousands of colourful fish swarmed out of the suit and into the tank.

  Karnasc's disembodied voice sounded from the ceiling. “Much better.”

  “I thought we were in a hurry,” said Hanson. “What is it you want from us?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Karnasc. “It's easy enough. I want you to stand in front of that camera there, all together, and say you've been captured and that the escape attempt has failed.”

  “That won't stop them,” Charin growled. “They're free! They have their own ships now!”

  “Oh, I'm sure it won't,” said Karnasc. “So why not do it? Then everyone on board this ship gets to live. You have my word.”

  Hanson watched the camera in silence, thinking it through. True, a message like that couldn't stop the escape. But if all the escaping Petaurs were to see the figureheads of the escape captured, it would certainly demoralise them. Yilva wouldn't be there to help organise them. Without her, some might lose their nerve. There'd be disagreements about whether to turn back, what to do, where to go …

  Would that be enough the scupper the whole escape? Probably not. Karnasc probably had another trick up his sleeve.

  “You know what's quicker than debating all this?” Karnasc said. “If I just threaten you! So stand there and read out the message, or the old lady dies.” He paused for a moment. “Also, one of you, I guess. It serves my purpose just as well if there's a corpse on screen too.”

  Hanson looked around the CIC. Now would be a great time. But nothing happened.

  He had been testing the manacles surreptitiously at every chance he had, but nothing had come of it. There was nothing he could use in the CIC. He couldn't even take a gun off the guards – all the Albascene's weapons were incorporated into their suits.

  They were out of time and out of luck. There was no choice but to along with it.

  The Albascene arranged Hanson and the Petaurs in front of the camera, and one of them held up a typed statement in front of Yilva.

  “You get to be the spokesperson,” Karnasc said. “And just so you don't embarrass yourself, this isn't going out live. If you go off-script, I'll just kill a hostage and ask you to try again.”

  A green light lit by the camera.

  “Go!” said Karnasc.

  Chapter 37: Revenge

  Every time he turned his head, the smart matter rubbed against his nose. Uruth snarled quietly and stifled the urge to bite it. That would just make things worse.

  The makeshift helmet was just a sheet of transparent smart matter in a sort of inflated cube shape, stuck to the collar of his suit. It kept him breathing but offered no other protection.

  He clambered over the hull carefully. A magnetic lock would give him away, so he had to make do by clinging to the greebles as hard as he could.

  There was a circular window up ahead. Uruth peered through it. It looked onto an empty corridor.

  That was a plus. Karnasc's ship was probably lightly manned.

  He went around the widow, gave a sensor a wide berth, and came at last to his destination: A laser turret.

  Its window was a sheet of perfectly transparent quartz, overlaid with a thin grey skin that would pull back when it was ready to fire. Around the window was a rim of aluminium, a couple of inches higher than the rest of the hull.

  Uruth set to work. Where the turret's rim met the hull, there was a seam. He pulled a scalpel-sharp knife from his boot and set to work.

  Bit by bit, he was able to open the seam where the hull was thinnest, opening up a gap a few inches wide. He reached in cautiously, looking for a way to detach the deck plate.

  The grey skin covering the turret quivered. Uruth pulled his arm back. The skin peeled back like an eyelid, shooting across the gap where his arm had been a moment ago.

  “Uh oh,” muttered Uruth.

  The ship was getting ready to fire.

  *

  Yilva finished speaking.

  “An excellent performance,” Karnasc said. “Though you could have sounded a little more defeated.”

  Yilva glared at him.

  “Prepare to broadcast the message,” ordered Karnasc. “And target the ship these rebels left on.”

  “Wait!” said Hanson. “You said if we co-operated, you wouldn't –”

  “I said I wouldn't kill the hostages, or any of you. I made no promises about your shipmates,” Karnasc told him.

  Ribbons of effector fields encircled Hanson, holding him steady. He tried to twist away from them.

  “Ready,” said an Albascene at one of the consoles.

  “Broadcast the message.”

  “Broadcast confirmed.”

  “Now fire.”

  A gunshot rang out.

  The Albascene at the command console fell back. Water thick with tiny fish spilled from a hole in its suit.

  Stepping onto the CIC, Uruth shot the other Albascene in quick succession. He'd taken down four before they even had time to realise what was going on.

  The effector fields binding Hanson and the others loosened as the Albascene holding them turned to deal with Uruth. Lasers fired with sharp cracking sounds. Uruth himself leapt behind the cover of Karnasc's tank.

  One of the Albascene had him in its sights.

  Hanson was still manacled, but that was okay. He threw himself at the Albascene, knocking it aside. Its laser took out a console behind Uruth.

  Charin shrugged and followed Hanson's lead: He leapt five feet into the air, then kicked out again. His feet landed together on the upper section of one of the Albascene and knocked it over completely.

  These distractions gave Uruth enough time to finish his task. With mechanical efficiency, he shot each of the remaining Albascene.

  He swung his rifle over his shoulder. The loose, grey skin around his mouth pulled back in either a smile or a snarl. The only Albascene left alive was Karnasc.

  “Remember me?” Uruth said.

  “Of course I do,” said Karnasc. “Uruth, isn't it?”

  “You tried to kill me.”

  “No,” Karnasc said. “I tried to kill this lot.”

  “Ah,” grunted Uruth. “I was just collateral damage. That makes me feel much better. No, really. Now I know that, I think I'll just call off this whole revenge thing.”

  “You should,” Karnasc said. “It's beneath you.”

  Uruth growled at him.

  “You're in a dangerous line of work, Uruth. You knew that when you signed up. That's why I paid you so well.”

  Uruth watched Karnasc intently now.

  Hanson could see where this was going. “Hey,” he said. “Do you mind getting these manacles off?”

  Uruth held up a hand. “Hush.”

  “Do you know the difference between a mercenary and a thug?” said Karnasc. “A mercenary doesn't let rage cloud his judgement. A mercenary knows how to win. Yes, I admit, before this I thought you were a disposable thug. But you've shown how good you are at surviving impossible odds. You're valuable. You're worth … oh, at least ten times what I was paying you previously.”

  Uruth nodded slowly. “That is a lot.” He tapped his rifle. “Think I'll hold onto this for the moment. I'm a bit sensitive about betrayal.”

  “Of course,” Karnasc said. “You have every right to be. Now, shall we pick up where we left off?”

  Uruth strolled over to the wea
pons station. He looked over it. “Everything's ready.”

  “Wonderful, wonderful.” Karnasc called. “Come in! Everything's under control. Hold our prisoners down, if you'd be so kind.”

  Three Albascene glided into the room.

  Uruth swung his rifle to face them and fired in quick succession.

  “What are you doing!?” said Karnasc.

  Uruth ignored him and turned to Hanson. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Knew he'd call reinforcements. Needed to play along.”

  The floor was now half an inch deep in water and dead fish. Uruth made wet splashes as he walked over to an empty suit. He wrenched something from it, then held it over Hanson's manacles. The manacles opened with a click. Then he freed Yilva and the others.

  “Uruth!” said Karnasc. “Think about how much money you're throwing away!”

  “Yeah, I did,” grunted Uruth. He fired at the joint where Karnasc's suit was connected to his tank. He kicked the suit away.

  “Stop!” said Karnasc.

  Uruth flicked a release catch, and the tank door opened. The water inside came rushing out, carrying Karnasc with it. Tiny fish flopped about, suffocating.

  “Hmph,” said Uruth, looking at them. “That should have been more satisfying.”

  Yilva went to one of the stations. “Our ship is still intact,” she reported cheerfully. Her tail drooped. “But that video of us in manacles has been broadcast.”

  Hanson came over to look. The Petaur fleet was already losing cohesion. The open comms chatter was filled with fearful questions and angry exchanges. Some ships were already turning back.

  Yilva's ears fell flat against her head. “What do I do?”

  “Send a new message,” said Hanson.

  “But what do I say?”

  “You're leading this escape. You decide.”

  Yilva stared at him, dinnerplate-eyed, for a second. Then she turned back to the console, stretched her hands, wiggled her fingers, and began to record.

  “This is Yilva Vissin Avanni to the Petaur fleet. Ignore my previous message. Repeat: Ignore my previous message. It was part of a … a thrilling and ingenious ruse to stop Karnasc and gain control of his ship.” She paused, closing her eyes to think for a moment, then resumed. “I know you're scared. We are doing something momentous here today. But I need you to hold steady for a little bit longer. If you do, we can all gain our freedom together.”

  “See? I knew you could do it,” said Hanson.

  Yilva shrugged. Something on the screen caught her attention.

  “Oh, crumbs,” she said.

  “What?”

  “The Albascene Navy have escaped the docks. They are heading right for us.”

  Chapter 38: Escape

  “ETA?” asked Hanson.

  Yilva shrugged. “A couple of minutes?”

  “We need to get out of here.”

  “We can not! Those ships are faster than us, and most of our ships are not capable of jumping.”

  Hanson knocked on the wall. “Can we jump?”

  “I will not leave them here!” said Yilva.

  “I'm not saying that,” said Hanson. “Is this ship capable of jumping?”

  Yilva looked at the console. “Yes.”

  “Charin, begin emergency jump calculations,” ordered Hanson. “Iya, talk to the fleet. Keep them happy. Uruth, keep an eye on the Albascene.”

  Charin looked at Yilva, who nodded. He went to a station and began to work. Iya shrugged and did the same.

  “We just need to get the entire fleet through the same jump-point,” said Hanson.

  “That is impossible!” said Yilva.

  “Why?”

  “We would have to increase the duration and the diameter of the wormhole. That increases the power flow …” Yilva trailed off. Now the problem had been put before her, she couldn't help but try and solve it. She looked off into space, muttering under her breath. “Energy requirements scale exponentially with diameter … We'd have to get the entire fleet together.” Her ears perked up. “Yes!”

  Hanson went over to Iya. “Bring in the entire fleet around us, as close as possible.”

  “Hulls touching!” said Yilva. “Organise them like this.” A diagram appeared on Iya's screen.

  “Alright,” said Iya. He began to send out orders to the fleet.

  “ETA one minute,” said Uruth.

  “Nearly there!” cried Yilva. “We're going to burn out the jump engine with this …”

  “Iya?” asked Hanson.

  “They're gathering now,” said Iya. The hull clanged as other ships came into contact with them.

  It was times likes this when Hanson could really appreciate the logistical genius of the Petaurs. Eleven thousand ships, twenty thousand shuttles, all converging in one place so they could touch hull-to-hull, without ever crashing.

  The shuttles slid into the gaps between the larger ships. Packed so densely, they formed a structure 74 ships long, 74 ships wide, 74 ships high – an elongated blob about 2 kilometres across. Karnasc's frigate sat at the nose.

  “The Albascene are in firing range,” said Uruth.

  As if in response, kinetics and lasers streamed across the space. The ships are the rear of the mass flared up as they were hit.

  “Charin!” called Hanson.

  “Jump calculations finished!”

  “We're ready,” said Yilva. “Jumping now!”

  A wormhole opened in front of the mass of ships. It inflated quickly. 1,500 metres and growing.

  It stopped before it was big enough. It fluttered. “Oh crumbs, oh crumbs, oh crumbs” hissed Yilva, working at the console. Hanson could hear the high-pitched whine of the jump engines pushed to their limit.

  The wormhole flew towards them. Any ships that were caught on its edge would be shredded. At the last moment, it opened fully.

  Tidal forces squeezed them. The mass of ships creaked and rumbled.

  Then they were through. All of them. The wormhole snapped shut behind them.

  As it did so, there was a loud electrical crack. One of the consoles died.

  The mass of ships slowly drifted apart.

  “Jump engine's out,” said Yilva. But a grin grew across her face. “We did it! We actually did it!”

  *

  Pierce pulled his hands back from the Oracle and stumbled back. His ears were ringing, his vision blurred. He made his way over to the green leather armchair he'd recovered from Earth and fell, rather than sat, in it.

  He glanced over at the clock on the wall. He'd lost two and a half hours this time. He couldn't remember anything since he'd first put his hands on the Oracle. For a moment, panic gripped him.

  Then the after effects fell away, taking with them all anxieties, all doubts. The galaxy was coming under his control. He had nothing to fear. He surveyed his surroundings with calm, then stood and straightened his suit.

  He picked up a tablet from his desk, extended it, and skimmed its contents as he stepped outside.

  Everything seemed to be going to plan. They had new Blanks on the way. The Jupiter project was going smoothly.

  A ship had been dispatched to Kepler. Seeing this item, Pierce paused and frowned. He wasn't familiar with every single detail. Millicent took care of all that. But he couldn't see what this little ship running off had to do with any of his plans.

  He strode over to Millicent's office and let himself in.

  She was sitting at her computer, working. Same as always. A familiar sight, even in these strange times. It was oddly comforting. Behind her, he could see her broad window looking out over Earth.

  She perked up with the familiar touch of nervousness when she saw him. “Mr. Pierce! Hello.”

  “Millicent,” he said, looking at the tablet again. “Did we send a ship to the colony Kepler?”

  She looked up at him, eyes wide. “I … believe so, yes,” she said after a moment, checking her computer.

  “Why?” Pierce asked.

  She didn't look up from th
e computer. “I …”

  Before Millicent could finish, the computer chimed. Pierce recognised the tone. It was an incoming call, highest priority. “Put it through to my tablet,” he told her.

  She nodded. “It's from Iona,” she said.

  “Mr. Pierce,” said a tinny voice on the other end. “An Alliance ship jumped into the system. They got to the surface.”

  “The Blanks?” Pierce snapped.

  “The Blanks are fine, sir,” the voice reassured him. “Nearing maturation.”

  “Good,” Pierce said.

  “But …”

  “What?”

  “We think they managed to access computers in our facility. They may have escaped with intel.”

  Pierce frowned, thinking about this. “The Afanc,” he said.

  “Sir?”

  “Get those Blanks battle-ready ASAP,” he said. He killed the channel and turned back to Millicent. “Put all other projects on hold. The Afanc takes priority. We have to get to it before the Alliance does. I want an army of Blanks ready to invade within twelve hours.”

  As soon as he finished, Millicent became her usual efficient and capable self. “Yes, Mr. Pierce,” she said, gesturing at the screen.

  Chapter 39: A Dead Ancient

  Hanson was able to call the Indomitable to pick them up and escort the swarming Petaur fleet back to Tethya. En route they met up with the Black Cat and the Dauntless, and Hanson returned to read Lanik's report and write one of his own.

  “What gave you the idea of throwing chaff in front of the Ancient projectile?” he asked Lanik.

  “Those projectiles are powerful enough to tear through a ship and keep going,” explained Lanik. “But you never see that happen. They destroy a ship, then stop. My theory is that they're unstable. When they hit matter, they tend to dissipate.”

  Hanson nodded. “Well, it certainly worked.”

  When they arrived at Tethya a day later, Chang called a meeting immediately.

  They met in the irregular, canal-floored room as they had before. Hanson brought his entire team. A few Tethyans floated in the water, some senior SIS ghouls looked on silently, and Chang waited with his arms behind his back.