by James Palmer
“I humbly request you allow me to take my first officer to the coordinates found on the Progenitor star map,” he said. “We will find and activate the Light of Ages weapon and use it to destroy the Ix.”
There was some laughter, which Lang silenced with a stern glare. “That’s a negatory, Captain. I can’t have one of our best ships off on some wild goose chase while we’re up to our eye teeth in Ix.”
“I understand that, Admiral. But this might be our only hope.”
“No buts,” said Admiral Lang. “I’ll hear no more talk of alien super weapons. The Progenitors had this thing and look where it got them. No, our orders are to contain the Ix threat. But I do have a special job for you, Captain Hamilton.”
“Yes?”
“I want you to take charge of these flying libraries and our dragon friends who have come to help. They’ve agreed to obey your orders. Make of that what you will. I want to see what those alien libraries of yours can do.”
“Yes sir,” said Hamilton flatly.
Hamilton logged out, and the sensorium went dim. Admiral Lang’s orders were sent to his slate, and he reviewed them as he returned to the command deck, though his mind was elsewhere. Lang was blowing their only shot at defeating the Ix, consigning them all to death. That didn’t bother him as much as knowing that they had a way to defeat the Ix and it was being ignored. Sure, it was a long shot. All they really had was a legend and a map. Suppose the Light of Ages didn’t exist anymore, if it had ever existed. It could have easily been destroyed in some planetary upheaval. Maybe the admiral was right. Maybe it really was a wild goose chase, a silly treasure hunt best left for Leda’s old relic hunter pals.
But he didn’t think so. He often wondered what Captain Kuttner would do in certain situations. He hadn’t worked with him long, but he knew the old man always trusted his gut. And that’s what Hamilton felt he had to do. Trust his gut when nothing else made any sense.
He returned to a command deck chaotic with the preparations for war. Tactical displays flickered in the air, colored spheres indicating dozens of ships, large triangles indicating the positions of the Progenitor Archives. Leda stood in the center of it all barking orders and pointing at holographic objects in front of her. She turned to look at him when he appeared beside her.
“Brackett,” he said. “Get me the commanders of the Draconi vessels. Open a channel to Drizda aboard the Archive.”
“What are we doing?”
He sat heavily in the command chair and avoided her eye contact. “We’re going to war, Commander. I have a few hours to form a cohesive fleet from our dragon friends and Drizda’s flying libraries, as Admiral Lang calls them.”
“What about the Light of Ages?” she said.
He looked at her then. “I’m sorry. Lang thinks it’s a waste of time. He wants us here with the remains of the fleet.”
“But the Ix will destroy us all.”
“Be that as it may, Commander. Our orders are quite clear.”
Hamilton felt Leda’s eyes on him. He ignored her gaze and concentrated on the task at hand, coordinating the newly arrived Draconi and the vast, pyramid-shaped Progenitor Archives into something approximating a cohesive fighting force.
“Can I speak with you privately, Captain?” Leda said softly.
Hamilton sighed. “My ready room.”
He rose and followed Leda through a door in the left-hand corner of the command deck.
“What the hell, Noah?” she murmured when the door was closed.
“I know what you’re going to say, Leda. I’m as frustrated as you are. But we’re officers of the Solar Navy. If we left now we’d be classified as deserters. We—”
Leda kissed him hard on the lips. He returned the kiss, leaning into her. When they finally pulled away from each other, he stared down into her eyes. “Leda—”
She touched his lips with her index finger. “Don’t say anything. Just listen. You want to know what that kiss earlier was for. It was to remind you what is important. Life is important. Love is important. Everything we’ve evolved to become is important. We can’t let the Ix knock us back down the evolutionary ladder again. Everything we’ve become, everything the Draconi have become, might not exist again. The Progenitors knew that. The Makers before them knew that.”
“That’s not all,” said Hamilton.
“No. It was also a goodbye kiss. In case we don’t see each other again. In case you die, in case I become one with an alien super weapon. Now fess up. You don’t give a damn about Lang’s orders. I know you too well.”
“If you think that then you don’t know me as well as you think.”
Leda yelled, flustered. “You’re so exasperating. Always so clean-cut, by the book. You’re the most stubborn, honor-bound man I’ve ever met. The Noah Hamilton I know wasn’t always afraid to take chances. Lang is a moron if he thinks we can defeat the Ix like we defeated the Draconi. Remaining here with the rest of the fleet is a death sentence!”
“Leda, I—” He paused, took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “I hear what you’re saying. But we have a duty to our fellow soldiers. We can’t just up and leave. There’s no way to know how long we’d be. We could return with the Light of Ages and find everything gone.”
“We could hunt down the Ix and avenge our people,” said the commander.
“Leda.”
She shook her head. “I can’t believe you, Noah. Can’t you see we’re dying here? After all we’ve seen, everything we’ve been shown, you’re willing to just give up on it and follow orders?”
“Yes,” said Hamilton. “In the midst of chaos, orders are all we have to cling to.”
“In all this chaos, orders are meaningless,” Leda countered.
Hamilton felt his face flush hot. “We’re not turning tail and running. We’re soldiers. You’re second in command of a Solar Navy railship, Commander. I suggest you start acting like it.”
Leda glared angrily for a long moment before turning and exiting the ready room.
Hamilton waited an appropriate length of time before returning to the command deck, the flurry of activity a welcome respite from the cold silence of the ready room. He was not surprised to see Leda was not at her post.
“Sir,” said Brackett. “We’ve received orders from the fleet to depart immediately for Cygnus Three.”
Hamilton sighed. “Is everyone in our ragtag fleet present and accounted for?”
“Aye.”
“Excellent. Make sure they received the fleet’s orders and tell them to fall in behind us. Drizda?”
“Yes, Captain,” said the Draconi scientist over the command deck’s speakers.
“Are the Archives battle worthy?”
“As far as I can discern, yes. The scholars have been evacuated, and Sigma Prime assures me the Archives have considerable offensive capabilities.”
“Tell her to be ready to make considerable use of them. Let’s head for the gate. Hamilton out.”
Hamilton watched the tactical display as the Zelazny led the way toward the Q-gate, but saw none of the telltale signs of massive ship movement that would indicate a coordinated effort. The rest of the fleet, it appeared, was staying put.
“What’s going on?” he said. “Are we the only ones departing for Cygnus Three?”
“Yes, Captain,” said Brackett. “Admiralty confirms. We are embarking on a separate mission.”
Hamilton grumbled low in his throat. “All right then,” he said. “Lang either wants to see what these Archives and Draconi can do under my command, or he’s trying to get rid of us. Let’s show him we’ve got what it takes.”
Hamilton’s head snapped to his right, surprised to see Commander Leda Niles standing before him. “I’m sorry I stormed off back there. I abandoned my post.”
“Nonsense, Commander,” said Hamilton. “You and I had a disagreement. Nothing more. Whatever record remains after all this is said and done shall reflect that.”
Leda nodded quickly. “
I’m ready to finish this thing. However it’s meant to play out.”
Hamilton gestured to the seat next to him, and Leda took it as they made their way through the gate. Hamilton eyed the tac display, watching closely the small green rectangles that indicated the half dozen Draconi warships that were accompanying them on their mission. At least the dragons were playing nice. Hamilton understood a lot more about their psychology since being briefly held captive aboard one of their vessels. He hoped that would help him communicate with them—command them—more effectively.
They emerged from the gate into chaos. A hodgepodge of Wanderer ships was busy attacking a commercial mining operation in the asteroid field near the gate. Before Hamilton could coordinate their attack, the Draconi vessels leaped into the fray, attacking the Wanderers with obvious relish, destroying several of their makeshift vessels before Hamilton could order them to cease fire.
“What are you doing?” said Leda.
“Let’s think about this for a second,” said Hamilton. “Lang knows an attack fleet like ours can easily best a few Wanderer ships.”
Leda nodded. “He wants to send a message. Quell any further rebellion.”
“Right,” said Hamilton. “But why do I feel like we’re doing the Ix’s work for them?”
“What do you mean?”
“They should be helping us, not fighting us,” said Hamilton. “I want to recruit them, if we can. But I don’t want to kill them anymore.”
“They’ll never go for it,” said Leda. “They’re attacking because the League is at its weakest and the Solar Navy can’t protect everyone. The Wanderers want to take whatever they can scrounge one last time before the Ix get here.”
“I think there’s more to it than that,” said Hamilton. “I think someone is goading them.”
Leda’s mouth opened wide in an O of surprise. “Straker,” she said.
“Precisely.” Hamilton tapped a button on the arm of his chair. “Drizda, position the Archives in between the Wanderers and that mining facility as best you can. Do not fire other than warning shots.”
“Of course, Captain,” said the scientist.
Hudson confirmed that this was being done. Wanderer ships buzzed around them like cautious insects, understanding full well the hardware and armament they were now up against, and no doubt curious about the Progenitor Archives and what their capabilities might be.
“Gunner Cade,” ordered Hamilton. “Charge the main gun.”
“Yes, sir.”
They all heard the telltale hum as the railgun’s powerful electromagnets came online.
“Commander, if you were a war criminal and outlaw leading a group of rebellious nomads, where would you be?”
Leda tapped her chin in thought. “I’d be tired of hiding out in a Wanderer can city. I’d also want to stay mobile, and as far away from the action as possible, yet close enough to watch things play out in subjective time.”
“Hudson?” said the Captain.
The navigator did a hasty scan of the nearby system. “There’s a comet fort, reading eighty degrees above the ecliptic.”
“Show me,” said Hamilton, rising from his chair and moving toward the center of the command deck. Hudson pointed to a new blip on the tac display.
“It’s using some large ‘roids for cover, but look at the EM it’s giving off. No way that’s natural.”
“It’s throwing off a lot of infrared,” said Leda. “Definitely a heat source.”
“All right,” said Hamilton. “Aim us toward it and fire the main gun.”
“Aye,” said Hudson and Cade, almost in unison. A small Wanderer ship ventured too close and was scared off by a flick of the Zelazny’s starboard ion cannon turret.
It took mere moments for the large vessel to align its main gun with that of its target. As soon as they had a lock Cade fired, sending a depleted uranium shell hurtling toward it at thousands of kilometers per hour.
“Charge should reach target in three minutes,” said Cade. “Wanderers moving in to attack.”
“Evasive maneuvers,’ said Hamilton. “Protect that mining colony. Drizda, show them what you’ve got.”
Hamilton watched through the viewer as the apex of one of the Archives glowed a bright blue, a searing beam of energy lancing through the darkness toward one of the makeshift vessels. It glowed white hot for a nanosecond before exploding in a brief blossom of light.
“Remind me not to get on Drizda’s bad side,” Hamilton quipped.
The Wanderers, to their credit, were fierce. They fired back on the Archives to no avail, and were soon picked off by a Draconi warship that wove itself in between the massive pyramid shaped-vessels like an angry mosquito following a herd of neo elephants.
“Shell detonated,” said Hudson. “Looks like it hit one of the ‘roids.”
“Captain,” said Brackett. “Incoming transmission from the Wanderer comet fortress.”
“On viewer,” said Hamilton with a grin. He winked at Leda. “I can’t wait to hear this.”
Unsurprisingly, the viewscreen shifted to an image of the scowling face of Colonel Straker. “Captain Hamilton,” he barked. “Is that any way to treat your old boss?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Wanderer Uprising
Hamilton glared at his former commanding officer through the viewscreen and across thousands of kilometers of empty space, and all the bile, all the enmity held for this man came rushing back to the surface. His fingers flexed, as if tightening around Straker’s throat.
“You’ve done very well for yourself, Captain,” Straker said. “I knew you had the makings of a worlds-class officer.”
“Cut the crap,” said Hamilton. What are you doing with the Wanderers?”
“They kindly took me in when no one else would. And who is that with you? Leda Niles. Splendid. Are you sporting a new look?”
“Traitor,” said Leda.
Straker glared in her direction, licking his thin, pale lips. “Come over here and say that.”
“Your little Wanderer rebellion is being quelled,” said Hamilton.
Straker nodded appraisingly. “So it would seem. I admit you have me there. The Archives are a nice touch, by the way. I didn’t see that coming. But what now?”
“Now you will be arrested, returned to the Citadel and tried for war crimes.”
Straker laughed. “Oh, I really don’t think so. There isn’t going to be a Citadel soon, is there? Even now the Ix are carving up the League like a jigsaw puzzle. Those flying museums and a few Draconi aren’t going to change that.”
He shifted in his seat. “By the way, that’s quite a trick with the Archives. Mind telling me how you pulled it off?”
“Yes,” said Hamilton. “Now turn yourself in, or go down with your Wanderer friends.”
Straker grinned. “Now why would I do that?”
Hamilton shrugged. “Because you don’t have a choice?”
To illustrate, Hamilton said, “Wanderer fleet, this is Captain Hamilton of the railship Zelazny. You have a fugitive among you named Colonel Straker. Turn him over to us within the next five standard minutes or we will destroy your entire fleet.”
Straker glared at him, unbelieving.
“You know we are capable,” Hamilton continued addressing the Wanderers. “I don’t want to do this. We have a common enemy. But don’t test me.”
Straker cast nervous glances to either side of his tightbeam viewer. “No, wait,” he said. From the edge of the viewfield they saw exoskeleton-powered arms seize him and yank him away from the screen, which quickly winked out.
“That was easy,” said Leda. “I wonder if we should gift wrap him for Lang.”
“Hold on,” said Hamilton. “We don’t have him in custody yet.”
“We’re receiving another message from the comet fortress,” said Brackett.
“On viewer,” said Hamilton.
The viewscreen winked to life once more, showing a misshapen head floating upside down. The genetically alter
ed visage was that of a Wanderer. He was extremely thin and completely devoid of hair. Pale blue veins showed beneath paper-like skin. His artificial eyes sparkled like star sapphires, and he had two moist slits for a nose and a puckered hole for a mouth. His hands danced in front of the viewer, the fingers long, slender and many jointed.
“I am Caleb Ra,” the man—if he could still be called that—said. “We realize we are fighting losing battle. Straker promised us revenge, conquest. But we only want peace, to be left alone. Now the Ix are here, there will be no peace. We know that now. We are sorry. You can have your man back. We are tired of his babbling, empty promises.”
Hamilton’s mouth threatened to curl into a grin at that last statement, and he had to fight to keep it from forming.
“We leave system now, leave human-inhabited space now. Should have done so long ago.”
“Stay and fight with us,” said Hamilton. “You’re not safe out there. The Ix will find you.”
“Big universe,” Caleb Ra continued in broken Standard. “We are runners. We are hiders. Maybe our children’s children will stop the Ix.”
Hamilton nodded grimly. “I wish I could change your mind, but I respect your wishes. I bear the Wanderers no ill will, and I am sorry for the loss of life here today.”
Caleb Ra nodded once at this, his alien, artificial eyes unreadable.
“When can we expect Straker’s return to us?” asked Leda.
“He is being sent to you now,” said Caleb Ra. Without further explanation the screen went dark.
“The hell’s he talking about?” Hamilton muttered.
“Sir,” said Brackett. “I’m picking up an old military transponder signal. It originated from the comet fort, and it’s moving toward our position.”
Hamilton spun towards navigation. “Find it, Hudson.”
The navigator’s hands flew over his workstation’s controls. “It’s tiny,” he said. “But I’ve got it. Bearing two one zero. Sensors zooming in.”
He stared at one of his screens, grinning. “It looks like an old freight pod like they used to slingshot between Mars and Jupiter. My grandfather told me about them. Uh, heat signature consistent with human vitals.”