The Dream Voyagers

Home > Other > The Dream Voyagers > Page 36
The Dream Voyagers Page 36

by T. Davis Bunn


  When the Blade’s portal opened, Guns stepped forward and said, “You took your time about it, lad.”

  “I could scarcely make out a word,” Rick responded. “It sounded like you were talking inside a machine shop. I finally decided it was better to be safe than sorry.”

  “You did right,” Tucker said, motioning Consuela forward and into the transport. “Another minute and we might have been gone for good.”

  Rick stood in the wreckage of the communications tower, ignoring Abdul entirely. “Where do we go now?”

  “Out and away,” Guns said, the memory console tucked under one arm. “There’s work to do, and not a second to lose.” He patted Rick’s shoulder. “You did well, lad. I’m proud of you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “You have to sleep.”

  Wander pushed the hand away. “Power me up.”

  “It’s not going to help your friends any if they arrive and find you flat on your back, your brain melted down.”

  “I’m all right, I tell you.” Yet despite his best efforts, Wander could not fully erase the slur from his voice. His words seemed to slide out, melding together into a toneless tangle. “Hook me back up.”

  Digs looked pained. “You’ve been on three watches and more without a break.”

  “I have to,” Wander replied stubbornly.

  “You can’t.” Digs ripped the headset from Wander’s hands. “Look, just pull your cushions off the chair and lie there on the floor. I’ll stay hooked up the whole time.”

  Wander tried to argue, but he didn’t have the strength. “I don’t know what to tell you to look for.”

  Digs gave a humorless smile. “Sounds just like the orders I’ve been following for weeks.”

  Wander found it necessary to use both hands to push himself erect. When he bent over to lay out the cushions, he almost fell over. “It’s less than six hours before the Hegemony vessel is due,” he said, stretching out with a groan.

  “I can read a chrono as good as you.”

  Wander suddenly found he could not keep his eyes open. “What happens if my friends don’t get here before the Imperial ship and its dragoons?”

  Digs was silent a long moment, his face growing steadily grimmer. Finally he said quietly, “I don’t know.”

  But Wander was already asleep.

  ****

  Tucker said to Consuela, “There’s no doubt?”

  “None.” This close, Consuela did not even need to power up. The air seemed to buzz with static power. She pointed through the viewport and said, “The next planet after this one is where Wander is being held.”

  “All right, lads.” Guns kept his voice to a low murmur, as though talking quietly would keep them from being detected. “Unhook the Blades.”

  Tucker gave a satisfied nod to the transport’s first officer. “Well done.”

  “It wasn’t me,” the young man protested, and pointed to where Guns sat in the navigator’s seat. “All I did was follow his instructions.”

  “Aye, well, congratulations to the both of you.” Tucker stared out the front visor at the pitted surface of the system’s fifth planet. Even at this close proximity, the sun was so swollen it blazed about the planet’s edges, surrounding the globe with a fiery halo. “Wonder what possessed them to put a garrison in a red giant’s system.”

  “I seem to recall the pilot Dunlevy saying something about this once having been the Hegemony’s borders,” Guns offered, unstrapping and standing up, massaging his back.

  “Aye, well, I’ve served some miserable posts in my time, but this is one place I’m glad to have missed.”

  “You and me both.” Guns patted the first officer’s shoulder and said, “You’d best go ahead and plot our return course.”

  “Me?” The young officer showed genuine alarm.

  “You saw what I did. The computer does most of the work. Make preparations for a swift departure for Avanti. We may be in a hurry when we return.”

  “Aye, aye, Guns.”

  There was a rough scraping through the transport’s roof, and a pair of shadows flitted in front of the viewport. For the voyage across uncharted space, the Blades had melded their shields together and bonded tightly about the transport. A voice declared over the intercom, “All Blades but yours are freed, Guns.”

  “Prepare for action, but don’t power up your weapons,” Guns replied. “We don’t know what those boyos on Citadel can and cannot detect.” He turned to Tucker and said, “I better be off, then.”

  Tucker offered him a meaty paw. “Good hunting, matey.”

  Guns met him with an iron-hard grip. “Aye, we’ll give them a run for their money.”

  “More than that,” Tucker said. “We’ll be watching for your signal.”

  Guns nodded in Consuela’s direction and said, “And I for yours.”

  When Guns had slipped through the portal and entered his Blade, Tucker said to her, “Time to hook up.”

  She hid her grimace, as all the troopers were watching her every move. Consuela slid behind the console, fitted on the headset, and powered up. Instantly the distant buzz rose to an angry swirl of power. But no voices. There was no communication, just an incredibly focused source of listening.

  Thankfully, none of the focus was directed at her. In fact, everything seemed to be reaching so far out beyond the system’s borders that anything this close went undetected. Gingerly she inched up the power dial, reaching out, ever fearful of being discovered.

  When the signal rapped through her headset, it shocked her so that she leapt to her feet, jamming the seat back and over the edge. She kept one hand pressed to the headset upon her temple as she leaned over and powered back. She stayed like that an instant longer, observing, focusing more tightly about the source of the voices, and feeling all the blood drain from her face. Finally she powered off completely, raised up to face Tucker, and said quietly, “We have trouble.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Wander awoke to the smell of hot soup and a nudge from Digs. He opened his eyes, rubbed away the grit that matted his lashes, and saw his friend offering him a steaming mug and a sandwich. He struggled upright and said, “I feel as though I just shut my eyes.”

  Digs showed grim humor. “You’ve been snoring away for almost three hours.”

  “So long?” Wander rubbed a crick from his neck. “How did you get those? I thought you said you’d keep watch.”

  “I was only gone a minute.” The grim lines deepened. “Besides, you’ll be needing all your strength and wits.”

  Wander took a sip and felt the warmth course through him. “What’s the matter?”

  “The Hegemony ship has arrived early,” Digs said, and a flicker of fear rose within his gaze.

  ****

  “Await my signal,” Wander said, fitting his headset into place.

  Digs looked at him uncertainly. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

  “Unless you have a better idea.” Wander settled back, took a deep breath, then another.

  “I’ve never heard of anyone trying anything like this.” Digs’ hand hovered over the controls. “Probably because they knew they’d end up getting fried.”

  “My friends are risking their lives to come for us. At least I hope they are.” Wander regarded his friend. “How can I do any less?”

  Digs nodded acceptance and fitted his own headset into place. “Just be careful.”

  “Is your damping on full?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Digs replied, nerves turning his tone sharp. “Just go out, do it, and get back.”

  Wander closed his eyes. Took another breath. “Ready.”

  “Here goes, then.”

  There was too much risk of him getting out and not being able to make it back. He needed a back-up, someone to remain at the borders of his activity, watching carefully, ready to draw him home. That was Digs’ task, to protect himself with a fully damped headset, observing both what Wander did and how he was, with one hand ever
ready on the controls.

  Even so, Wander was a mere hair’s breadth away from sheer terror.

  Digs did exactly as they planned, powering up just a fraction, enough for Wander to raise his awareness above Citadel’s scarred surface, hover, and collect himself.

  Then Digs rammed the power controls to full.

  The force was enough to have sent Wander’s awareness rocketing to the Hegemony’s farthest borders and beyond. But he resisted, remaining exactly where he was, though the force threatened to split his mind into a billion shimmering fragments.

  Finally he moved, harboring the force, riding it like a whirlwind, drifting up to the Imperial ship, seeking out the communication link. A silver thread of mind-amp power flickered outward, the Supreme Pilot and his two assistant pilots communicating with Imperial Command. Without making contact, Wander’s harnessed force was sufficient for him to make the instant identification.

  The pilot noticed something at the periphery of his extended awareness and began the turning. It was what Wander had wanted, a crack in their concentration. Immediately he pounced.

  Releasing all the force that he had been holding back, Wander gave it a face of utter frenzy. He screamed out, using his focused power as a flashing mental fist, attacking down, forcing his way into the pilots’ protected chamber, shrilling with all his might, DANGER HERE. DANGER. CITADEL UNDER ATTACK. WITHDRAW. DANGER. WITHDRAW IMMEDIATELY. SAVE YOURSELVES.

  He stayed only long enough to see all three pilots retreat in gibbering horror, their minds stunned to insensibility by the suddenness and the force of his attack.

  Then he moved away.

  The power still coursing through him, unleashed and unchecked, he circled back and around the planet, stopping at each outward-focused lance of attention. One by one he attacked them with a diving force, a biting strike of unexpected fury, the words always the same. DANGER. DANGER. ALARM. ALARM.

  The monitors’ mind-amps granted him an unexpected advantage. They opened and focused the monitors’ attention, which meant that his attack was met not with defense, but rather by focused and amplified openness. Instantly he realized that here was the reason for the Citadel’s secrecy: A monitor had no defenses other than concealment.

  One moment, the monitors searched the far reaches in utter certainty that they were concealed and thus invincible. The next, an apparition flooded directly into their minds, screaming alarm. By the time Wander had made one swift circle of Citadel, there was not a single focused monitor-beam remaining upon the planet.

  Wander did not hesitate. Instantly he sent the signal to Digs and heaved a mental sigh of relief as the power eased back. He continued outward, but not far, extending only through the system, searching with open liberty and shouting in frantic haste another word now, over and over, calling out her name. Consuela!

  One moment he was alone and lacerated by the fear that all was still in vain. The next, he was enveloped by a mind and heart as eager and yearning as his own.

  They spun together for a half-dozen heartbeats, locked in the embrace of those who no longer have room nor time for barriers. Their love was as boundless as space, their joy as brilliant as the red orb shining overhead.

  Gradually, reluctantly, Wander eased himself away. I must hurry.

  Wander. Oh, Wander.

  Listen to me, beloved. We must go, and now. He offered her a mental shake, in the form of a shimmering diamond that flashed toward her and exploded with a spark of unexpected power. She jerked away, relinquishing her hold. He asked, Where is the ship Avenger?

  Gone, I mean, we are just the transport and the Blades. Consuela struggled to collect herself. There was an instant’s pause, then, I told the others you are here.

  Where . . . oh, I see now. He located the ships as they rounded the fifth planet and headed toward Citadel. The six Blades and the battered transport seemed so puny, set against the might of the empire. But there was no choice. He braced himself and said again, We must hurry.

  We are ready. And she was. Quivering with taut eagerness. Tell us what to do.

  Swiftly he sketched out his plan, stopping at intervals for her to repeat it to the others. When he was finished, there was a brief pause, then Consuela said, They agree.

  It startled him, this military-like acceptance. No argument, no doubt, no hesitation. For the first time since the kidnapping, Wander felt himself thrilled by the sudden flood of unbridled hope. I must go and prepare.

  Swiftly they embraced, a gift of closing together, moving beyond the realm of words, giving and receiving the rapture of love granted a future.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  As the mind-amp’s power receded, Wander felt his own physical strength drain away. He turned toward Digs without raising his head from the chair. “You’d better be going.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” he said weakly, willing strength back into his limbs. He could be feeble later. “Hurry.”

  The concern in Digs’ gaze was suddenly replaced by a blaze of hope. “You found them?”

  “They’re coming.” Wander waved him away. “Hurry.”

  Digs leaped from the chair. “This should be easy.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  His friend gave a genuine grin for the first time in days. “Can’t you hear?”

  Wander stilled his breath and listened as wails rose from the distance. “It worked,” he said, vastly relieved.

  Digs raced for the mind-amp’s entry, then hesitated. “You won’t forget me?”

  “We are leaving this place together,” Wander promised firmly, his energy returning. “Hurry.”

  Digs gave him a grin so wide it almost split his face. “Watch me fly,” he said, and was gone. He raced down the aisle between the mind-amps, screaming at the top of his voice, “Alarm! Alarm! The amps are blowing! Out of the cavern, everybody! Hurry!”

  The call was swiftly picked up by others, and Wander heard the sound of racing feet and frantic voices scrambling by outside his amp.

  Grimly he switched to Digs’ seat, fitted on the headset, and reached for the controls. He had time for one brief hope that it would not be necessary to power up fully another time, especially not alone, especially when he was already so weak. Then he switched the amp back on and focused outward.

  To his vast relief, the Imperial ship was retreating.

  The great dark vessel was moving up and away from Citadel. It could not attain n-space transport, not without the pilots for guidance. But it could and did place greater distance between itself and what it thought was the source of attack. An attack unheard of in the Hegemony annals. An attack not made with standard weapons, but rather launched directly upon the piloting network, locking the ship down, holding it trapped within an alien system, without even lightways to guide it away. The captain was no doubt fighting panic among his crew.

  Even so, Wander could sense the risk of pods being launched, Imperial dragoons pouring out, hunting the unseen assailant. He switched his attention and saw the seven tiny ships flitting toward him.

  He turned and reached out. Consuela?

  Here. The response was immediate. Terse with eagerness.

  Your course is correct. Hurry.

  Guns sees the Imperial vessel. Are they attacking?

  Not yet.

  We are passing through the fire storm. No, I see, it’s your atmosphere. A pause, then a subdued, What a horrible place.

  Yes.

  Strike in thirty seconds. Wait, wait. Rick sees the canyon! And the fortress. Yes! There it is! Oh, Wander, we are coming!

  Wander felt a hand on his shoulder and knew it was time. We are leaving now.

  We?

  Oh. I forgot. He felt Digs shake his shoulder again. There are two of us.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “Attack mode!” Rick powered his weapons systems to full and steadied his course to skim just above the canyon’s scarred and pitted floor. Overhead swept a perpetual storm covering, not of clouds,
but of fire. “By me, Blades!”

  “Blade Four, in formation.”

  “Blade Six, roger that.”

  “First Officer here. We are adhering to your track. Remember we need a hole large enough for the transport.”

  “Target in sight,” Rick announced, his voice a knife edge. He popped the guards off his foregun triggers, sighted, and shouted, “Firing one!”

  The bolt seemed to drift down, impossibly slow for an energy missile, giving notice to the gallons of adrenaline that pumped his heart rate to overdrive. Then the missile struck, followed swiftly by a second, and, “We have an opening! Prepare the troops!”

  “Roger that.” It was Tucker. “Guns, any sign of the dragoons?”

  “All clear. Just don’t hang around.”

  “Not an instant more than necessary.”

  Rick tucked his shoulders in tight, as though trying to draw the Blade in narrower. At his speed, the hole seemed impossibly small. But he entered with room to spare, as did the transport. Then he stopped. He had to.

  “Incredible!” came Tucker’s hoarse exclamation. “What are they?”

  “Power-amps,” Rick said. “They have to be.”

  Stretching out as far as they could see was a cavern of impossible size. Their energy bolts had both sucked out all the air and filled the space with dust. Through this maelstrom they could see the dark flickering rings below, and the veins of light planted in both floor and ceiling.

  It was Tucker who broke the frozen tableau. “On to the center, Blades. Move.”

  They dropped to the cavern floor, hunted, found the first platform near their entry-point, kept moving, and finally Rick shouted, “Central platform dead ahead!”

  “Guard our flanks, Blades,” Tucker said, and then went on, “Set her down easy.”

  “Like a baby,” the transport’s flight officer agreed.

  The transport drifted over and down, settling at the platform’s center. Over the internal communications system and all-channel radio as well, Tucker shouted, “Platform, mount!”

  Instantly the rails rose up, and the platform began its gentle descent.

 

‹ Prev