The Long Road Home (A Learning Experience Book 4)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “You have to be out of your mind,” Tyler said, when she shot him the listening. “Levi ...”

  Levi smirked. “Trust me,” she said. She composed a short message, then sent it into the datanet. “It’s the last thing they’ll expect.”

  They saw fewer and fewer people as they made their way towards an isolated section of the ring. Alerts flashed up in front of their eyes, warning them that several sections up ahead had been configured for races that breathed methane, rather than oxygen. She took a mask from a rack and checked it was correctly configured, then passed a second one to Tyler. He had the sense to check it and insist on checking hers before they walked into the viewing room.

  She sucked in her breath as they stared at the large window. The chamber was dark, save for a foggy white light on the other side of the window. She couldn't help feeling as though she was in a petting zoo, instead of the VR zoos that could be found everywhere within the Solar Union. And then a ... shape ... smashed against the far side of the window, making Tyler take a step back. Levi almost joined him. The alien was a grotesque mass of tentacles, eyes and things she didn't want to look at too closely. It - she couldn't think of it as either male or female - was completely inhuman.

  There was a faint hiss from a hidden speaker. “You wish passage to YAR-873?”

  “That is correct,” Levi said, dropping into the fussy cadence of Galactic Four. The Tokomak had devised the language for talks with methane-breathers, although it was run through another translator before it was presented to the alien. It was better to speak as simply as possible and hope everything held together. “Two of us, both humans.”

  The alien seemed to press against the glass. Levi forced herself to look back, even though all her instincts were telling her to run. “My ship is not configured for humans,” it said. A low whistle echoed through the speaker. “Do you want to travel in stasis?”

  “No,” Levi said. It was tempting, but they would be completely helpless. “We want a small module, configured for human life. And we want to remain completely unnoticed as we pass through the gravity points.”

  “You do not want to be detected,” the alien said. It whistled, again. “It can be arranged.”

  Levi allowed herself a tight smile. Tyler hadn't been too far wrong. No one would willingly travel on a methane-breather’s ship unless they were desperate. Even if the Harmonies suspected something, they’d find it hard to search the ship. It was far more likely they’d just let them slip past without looking too closely.

  “Very good,” Levi said. “Once we reach our destination, you will help us to land and then bid farewell.”

  “If you wish,” the alien whistled. “The price will be five thousand credits.”

  “Five hundred,” Levi said. Five thousand was so far above the going rate, despite the gross inconvenience of obtaining a life support module, that the alien would suspect something if she agreed. “And we’ll pay an extra two hundred for the module.”

  “One thousand,” the alien said. “The module will be left with us.”

  “Unless we need it,” Levi said. “Six hundred, plus the module fee.”

  They haggled backwards and forwards, finally settling on the price of eight hundred, counting the module. Levi sent the alien the first payment at once, receiving in return detailed instructions for how to find the correct docking bay. It was unlikely the Harmonies would pay any attention to the freighter, but she resolved to be careful travelling there anyway. There weren’t many humanoids who also breathed methane.

  “Done,” she said, to Tyler. “Ready to leave this place?”

  “We’ll be spending the next week in a cramped module,” Tyler muttered. “You sure we can’t go into stasis?”

  “Not unless we want to be caught,” Levi said, practically. “It's too great a risk.”

  She smiled at him. “Look at it this way. We’ve picked up plenty of files from the shopping mall. You can read all the way.”

  Tyler looked unimpressed. “Let’s go,” he said. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can arrive.”

  “Very good,” Levi said, dryly. She had a feeling he’d be even less enthusiastic when cabin fever began to settle in. She’d known hardened marines that would have hesitated to spend two weeks in a tiny module. She hoped she didn't go stir crazy herself. “Let’s go.”

  She checked the ring’s datanet - again - as they made their way down towards the docking bay. There were no updates from any of the planetary governments, but there was an increasingly long list of theories about what was actually going on. Some of them were actually quite close to the truth, although none of them mentioned humans. Others were so completely implausible that they sounded to have come from particularly idiotic conspiracy theorists. It was amusing, in a dark sort of way, to know that humans and aliens had quite a few things in common.

  “The ship got away,” Tyler said. “Where are they going now?”

  “I don’t know,” Levi said. She hadn't been told. There was too great a chance she’d fall into enemy hands. “But let’s hope they’re safe, out there.”

  Tyler caught her arm. “And what if they get caught?”

  “Then we make sure Hudson Base finds out what happened,” Levi said. She slipped the mask into place as they reached an airlock. “And then we will take revenge.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  This is self-delusion.

  Everything we know about the Tokomak tells us that their standard response to any challenge is to reach for the biggest hammer they can and throw it at the target. This is what they tried to do during the Battle of Earth, when they sent what they thought would be a large enough hammer to finish the job. We beat that offensive, but that will merely force them to launch another - much larger - offensive.

  It is unlikely we can distract them with anything.

  -Solar Datanet, Political Forum (Grand Alliance Thoughts).

  “She handles poorly,” Marie complained. “I’ve flown freighters that moved with more grace than this ... this ...”

  “Steady as she goes,” Elton advised, dryly. “The freighter wasn't designed for speed.”

  He leaned back in his command chair as another low tremor ran through the ship. He’d never heard of one starship nesting inside another, not outside bad movies and theoretical studies that no one had ever expected to have to try in the real world. The freighter barely had enough speed, even when empty, to reach its destination in a reasonable space of time. He had a feeling, although he suspected it would never be confirmed, that the design actually dated all the way back to the pre-stardrive era. It would certainly explain the ship’s size and low speed.

  “Her stardrive is online,” Biscoe confirmed. “She's ready to make the jump into FTL.”

  And hope to hell the drive doesn't crap out on us halfway there, Elton thought. We should have offered to take the damn ship for free.

  “Very good,” he said. “Have the remaining freighters been emptied and powered down?”

  “Yes, sir,” Biscoe said. “Their crews are not happy.”

  “They’ll have to live with it,” Elton said, tartly. He understood precisely how the freighter crews felt, but their ships were just too noticeable. If he’d been in command of the enemy fleet, he would make sure to inspect any freighter that matched their description. “We’ll be back to pick up their ships later.”

  “Or we can just pay out compensation,” Biscoe said. He smiled, humourlessly. “We’ll have to get home first, of course.”

  Elton nodded. “Helm, take us into FTL,” he ordered. “And set course for Night’s Dawn.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Marie said. She ran her hand down her console. “FTL ... now.”

  Odyssey shivered. Elton braced himself, unsure what to expect. They’d powered down Odyssey’s stardrive completely, just to ensure that there were no stray gravity pulses that would upset the freighter’s drive, but he was uneasily aware that the freighter’s drive was not in perfect condition. If they’d had mo
re time, they would have looked for a better freighter ... if one was to be found. Bulk freighters were rare outside the main shipping lines. They were just too costly to operate.

  The ship shook violently, then settled. The display blanked.

  “We are in FTL,” Marie said. She sounded concerned. “Captain, the drive is going to require careful supervision. I’d like to dedicate an RI to the task.”

  “See to it,” Elton said. No human mind could hope to keep up with the twisting gravimetric surges. An AI would do a better job, but there was no AI on Odyssey. “And take us back into realspace if it looks like the drive is going to fail completely.”

  Biscoe looked pained. “I wonder how the dealer even found the ship,” he said. “She should have been scrapped long ago.”

  “We’ll probably never know,” Elton said. He rather assumed the freighter had passed through dozens of hands before finally reaching Kami. She might be uneconomical for normal shipping, but she could help set up and support a new colony. “Mr. Williams, do you have our talking head ready to go?”

  “Yes, sir,” Williams said. He turned to face Elton. “As far as anyone should know, sir, we’re a lone Horde freighter transporting goods from Alpha Trion to Altadena. We’re not carrying anything interesting, so they probably shouldn't take too close a look at us.”

  “Let us hope so,” Elton said. On one hand, if he’d been in charge, he would have insisted on searching anything that wanted to pass through the gravity points. But, on the other hand, the Harmonies presumably didn't want to slow interstellar trade down any further than strictly necessary. “Can you respond to any questions they might have?”

  “I think so,” Williams said. “But if they want to search the ship, sir, we will be in deep shit.”

  “And we’ll have to make a run for it,” Elton agreed.

  He forced himself to relax as the freighter picked up speed, the hull shaking every time the drive field threatened to flare out of control. None of the Galactics would be particularly surprised to see a bunch of Hordesmen in an outdated freighter, one that seemed to be permanently on the verge of disaster. The Hordes couldn't build their own ships, let alone do proper maintenance on the ones they begged, bought or stole from the more senior races. It was unlikely, he told himself, that any watching eyes would do more than laugh at the primitive race in starships. The Galactics held the Horde in utter contempt.

  And that might change, he thought, remembering the Horde colony on Mars. They’re not stupid, merely ignorant. And ignorance can be remedied.

  The hours ticked by slowly, broken only by faint tremors running through the hull. Elton snatched a nap in his office, then brought his log up to date. He knew it was unlikely that they’d be able to make it all the way to Hudson Base without being detected, but not filling in his log would have felt too much like giving up. By the time the freighter groaned and wheezed its way into Night’s Dawn, he felt as if he was ready for anything.

  And if there’s one advantage to flying this crappy freighter, he thought as he stepped back into the bridge, it’s that no one will ask too many questions when we drop out of FTL several AUs from the gravity point.

  “Tactical,” he ordered. “Deploy stealth drones.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Callaway said. “Drones deploying ... now.”

  Elton nodded, feeling the tension rise on the bridge as more and more details popped up on the main display. Night’s Dawn was unusual, almost unique. Binary systems were far from unknown, but the secondary star in this system was a small black hole. The Galactics had been driving themselves crazy, according to the files, in trying to understand how the black hole had even formed. It simply wasn't massive enough, they insisted, to exist. And yet ...

  “I’m picking up seventeen battleships, holding station near the gravity point,” Callaway said, grimly. “I’m also picking up tugs towing fortresses from the inhabited worlds to the gravity point.”

  “They must not have fortified this system so extensively,” Biscoe commented. “They can’t put a complete lock on shipping moving through this part of the sector.”

  “It would have tipped off their enemies,” Elton agreed. The Harmonies might have had a very good excuse for fortifying the gravity points, but the other Galactics would have seen it as a threat. They didn't want the Harmonies to decide, one day, that ships passing through the gravity point needed to pay a toll. “But now they’re trying to stop us.”

  A cold shiver ran down his back as the freighter steadily approached the gravity point. Odyssey could outrun the battleships, given a slight head start, but not when she was trapped inside a giant freighter. He had no illusions about what would happen if the Harmonies realised what was going on, yet did nothing until the freighter was far too close to escape. If they were caught at point-blank range ... he shook his head, telling himself that it would work. It had to work.

  “Picking up a message,” Williams said. “They’re demanding our ID codes and ship logs.”

  Elton wasn't surprised. Hundreds of starships were entering the system and dropping out of FTL, only to have the battleships ordering them into line while they were inspected. It was easy to see that freighters that matched standard designs were being searched, even though none of them were identical to the ships he’d left behind. He wondered, grimly, what would happen if a freighter CO started to power up his stardrive. Would the battleships fire into his hull?

  Probably, he thought. But that might just start a war.

  “Send them the prepared data,” he ordered. “And then prepare to trigger the explosive bolts.”

  He sucked in his breath as they glided towards the gravity points. The analysts had done a good job of putting together a fake set of logs, ones that matched data recovered from captured Horde ships. No one would seriously expect the Hordesmen to match the Galactics for sheer love of bureaucracy and records-keeping. Hell, there was a very good chance they'd done too good a job. But it was too late to worry about it now.

  If they insist on inspecting us, he thought, we’ll have to blow the hull and run.

  “Picking up a response, Captain,” Williams said. “They’re allowing us to enter the fast track.”

  Elton nodded, although he wasn't reassured. The fast track appeared to be composed of courier boats, a handful of warships from several different powers and a number of starships that clearly weren't Odyssey or her consorts. They seemed to be going through without more detailed inspections, let alone searches. And yet, he knew they were passing far too close to two enemy battleships. If they’d been caught ...

  “Order the drones to go dark, then take us into the fast track,” he ordered. “And jump us through the gravity point as soon as we can.”

  He watched the display, numbly, as the gravity point grew closer. The Harmonies were taking one hell of a risk, stopping and searching hundreds of freighters. There was no way the other Galactics wouldn't be pissed. Word would already be spreading, even though the full story would probably remain unknown. His eye tracked a shuttle, escorted by a pair of gunboats as it moved towards a large freighter. The ship was nothing like anything humanity had ever deployed. He wondered, absently, why it had been singled out for special attention.

  “Approaching the gravity point now,” Marie reported. “Jump in five ... four ... three ...”

  The universe sneezed. The display blanked, then hastily started rebooting itself. Five red icons jumped to life, looming over Odyssey as a cat might loom over a mouse. Elton took firm control of his emotions as the battlestations scanned his ship, then dismissed her. They didn't even bother to sneer. He felt a surge of pure relief, mixed with an odd kind of icy contempt. The Hordesmen hadn't known how their starships worked, but that hadn't stopped them wreaking havoc on Earth. They shouldn't be treated as jokes.

  “Take us to the next gravity point,” he ordered, grimly. “Best possible sublight speed.”

  “We’ll be there next year,” Biscoe joked. A thin chuckle ran around the ship. “They
let us go through without question.”

  “We’re not out of the nebula yet,” Elton pointed out, dryly. “Helm?”

  “ETA twenty-seven hours in sublight,” Marie said. “There’s no way to boost our speed without discarding the freighter or jumping into FTL.”

  “We’ll just have to live with it,” Elton said. He glanced at Biscoe. “Get some rest, Mr. XO. I’ll be on the bridge.”

  He turned his attention back to the display as Odyssey crept further and further into the system. It was heavily populated; one world had given birth to an intelligent race that had found itself subjected by the Harmonies, while four more had been terraformed to provide living space. Hundreds of asteroid settlements orbited the primary star; thousands of starships made their way towards the gravity points or headed out into interstellar space. And yet ...

  “I’m picking up a lot of chatter,” Williams reported. “The locals are not pleased at having martial law declared, it seems.”