Angels and Ministers of Grace

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Angels and Ministers of Grace Page 16

by Michelle O'Leary


  It was like being on the side of a rich and growing valley with beauty all around and a cloudless blue sky above. Her breath caught, and for a moment she felt the sting of homesick tears in her eyes. "Oh, it's so…"

  "Yes. Yes it is."

  She heard the same soft wonder in the captain's voice as in her own, but she couldn't take her eyes off of the view to look at Marta. Everywhere she looked there was color, from the infinite variety of green leaves to flashy bright colors of flower petals. The air was filled with fragrance, and she took deep breaths until she felt lightheaded and giddy. There were even breezes to touch her skin with humid air and the sweet song of birds to put the finishing touch on the reality of the place. She thought nothing of the birdsong until one flew overhead, twittering busily.

  "Are they real?"

  "The birds? Yes, as well as all the insects you'll find here. They needed the pollinators, but when their populations got out of hand, they imported birds. The bird populations are easier to control."

  "Amazing."

  "I completely agree." Marta urged her forward, and they strolled along the path, soaking in the sensations of the Arboretum.

  At one point, Anya had to stop and place her hands on a patch of grass, laughing breathlessly at the remembered sensation of the prickly blades. "I haven't been in a park with real grass in years."

  The captain merely smiled and gestured her to a bench with an incredible view of the valley below. Anya should have been prepared for Marta's next words, but the Arboretum had thrown her completely off guard. As it was intended, she decided later.

  "I had an ulterior motive in bringing you here. We have an offer of yours to discuss and a Queen's motives to consider, but before we do that, I need to tell you my plans. Such things are best spoken of in comfort, and I can't think of a more comforting place than this."

  Anya watched the captain with a thrill of alarm, aware of the other woman's own careful scrutiny. The captain said nothing without a reason—her using the word "comforting" instead of "comfortable" made Anya incredibly nervous. "You have—plans?" she asked with diffident caution.

  "Yes, I do. First, let me tell you a little about myself. Knowing Frank and his tendency to gab, I'm sure you've already heard some of this, but let me elaborate. My father was a kind man, very slow to anger and a pacifist. My mother, on the other hand, was stubborn and argumentative. It made for many conflicts of interest while they were raising me, but on one thing they both agreed—what was right and what was wrong." Marta looked away across the valley with a small smile as though she could see her parents sitting on the slope on the other side.

  "I am an idealist. That is sometimes a very hard thing to be in a galaxy that requires so much practicality and hard reality. But I can't ignore what I was raised to believe, and several years ago I made the mistake of being too stubborn about my idealism. I wasn't much of a threat to Central, but I was a nuisance, so they sent me here. At the time, I thought it was a setback, but I'm certain now that it was destiny." She paused, still smiling into the valley and Anya couldn't stay silent.

  "What did you do?"

  "In short, I opposed their exclusionary views towards other sentient species, and I condemned the Guild for their oppression of telepaths." She turned to look at Anya with a teasing twinkle in her dark eyes. "I think it was the combination of the two that really put a bug up their butts. If I'd stuck with one or the other, I'd probably still be at Central in some dark, dingy basement office working on a project of their choice that had no solution. But I was too aggravating to keep around, so they shipped me to the farthest edge of human space. Their mistake." The twinkle had turned into a hard gleam, and Anya looked away, uncomfortable.

  "So what do you plan to do?"

  "I plan to declare the Free Zone a separate state."

  It took a moment for Anya to catch all the implications of what the captain had said so simply, but when she did, all she could do was stare at the older woman in dumbfounded amazement. Marta waited, her eyes calm and expression serene.

  "You—you plan on—breaking away from Central? They won't let you do that, Marta. You're a captain in the Planetary Fleet! You'll be court-martialed at the very least. They'll just toss you in some hole somewhere and throw away the key…"

  Anya's tirade faded away when Marta smiled gently at her. "That won't happen."

  "How do you plan on stopping them? I've seen a destroyer once—that thing could put a hole in a sun, let alone this puny station! How—" She stopped again as the captain held up a hand.

  "Anya, calm down and think for a minute. What did I say I was sent here for?"

  "You opposed the Guild and Central's policies on—sentient species…" Anya's throat closed as she saw with a clearer vision what would happen when the captain declared autonomy. "A destroyer can't threaten this station without threatening alien species. Is that what you plan to do? My god, Marta, you're talking about war! Do you seriously want us to go to war with—"

  "Now you're jumping to the wrong conclusions. It's not war I'm after; it's peace. And I'm talking about peace for all of us, not just humans. Think about it, Anya. Think carefully. Will other species just allow humans to continue to expand their space as they have been and still refuse alien access? You probably haven't been aware of how much tension there has been with our neighbors. We are on the verge of war already. And for what? Just because humans can't see past physical differences to the opportunities other races offer. Even if we stop expanding human space and sit in our little comfortable corner of the universe with only ourselves for company, what will happen?"

  The captain's dark eyes snapped with life and conviction, but Anya could feel only fear. What she was proposing seemed not only wildly dangerous, but potentially suicidal.

  "It's crazy! You can't force the government to change overnight, so you're talking about rebellion!"

  "Anya, listen. I'm talking about preserving the whole human civilization. If we stop expanding and huddle down in seclusion, we will stagnate, and our civilization will crumble. Even if we don't get to that point, there will be some alien race who will covet what we have and try to take it by force. They already are! To survive, we must change. We must be flexible and more tolerant and see the opportunities right in front of us. Other species have so much to offer, and if we don't take advantage of that, we are literally killing ourselves."

  "But—if what you say is true and there are aliens preparing to attack us, doesn't that justify closing our borders? Shouldn't we protect ourselves?"

  "Now you're talking about war. These aliens want what we have. They aren't talking about dominion over us. If we trade with them, if we open negotiations for certain worlds or discuss treaties, we can obtain peace while making allies and gaining knowledge and goods of our own."

  "All right, that makes sense, but what you're proposing still doesn't. How does making this station some kind of rebel base change any of that?"

  "It's my hope that such a radical move will knock some sense into the bureaucratic idiots back home. Especially since this separation will be backed by several alien species." Marta was staring at her with sharp, waiting eyes, and Anya gnawed on her lower lip as she considered this piece of information.

  "Why would they care if this little station were to— Oh, the Queen would. But couldn't she just swarm somewhere else?"

  "I have been working for several years on this. I have been dancing the razor's edge of diplomacy for so long, it's almost commonplace to me now. I've opened a door that human civilization must walk through or suffer the consequences. Those alien species that have agreed to my plan…there are some who would rather just wipe us out and take by force what I've promised to give them if it succeeds."

  "What have you done?" Anya whispered, horrified as much by her implications as by the empty expression on the other woman's face.

  "I have set in motion the wheels of change. More than that I can't say without compromising not only my position, but that of the other race
s."

  The captain's eyes were dark pools that threatened to suck Anya into their infinity. She turned her face away, staring without seeing at the beauty around her. Was the woman mad? Was she trapped on the station with another lunatic?

  "I'm not insane, though it might sound like it to you." Marta must have read the panicked thought on her face.

  Anya took a deep, calming breath, trying to think around the little spurts of panic. "The Hive Queen…she's part of this, isn't she?"

  "Very much."

  "Are the Shrieks one of the species that—that wants to wipe us out?"

  "That's a complicated subject and one I'm not at liberty to discuss."

  Anya closed her eyes in despair—the captain may as well have said yes. And she was supposed to go visit this creature? To stare alone at the possible destruction of her entire species? "How—" Anya cleared her throat when all that came out was a whisper. "How will you do this?"

  "There will be a ship carrying Guild members who will be coming here in several days. They will demand your return. I will tell them what they can do with their demands."

  Anya hadn't known that despair had such depths. She stared dully at the captain, wishing herself anywhere but there. "You're going to use me as an excuse to start a civil war."

  "That's melodramatic and not entirely accurate. I'd prefer to think of it as a new beginning for all of us."

  An unexpected flash of anger stiffened Anya's back and sharpened her tone. "You expect utopia, Captain?"

  "Good lord, no! There will be plenty of problems, loads of obstacles, and lots of growing pains. I'm not blind to the dangers of what I propose. I just can't sit idly by and watch Central drive us into a corner where there is no way out but oblivion."

  "How can you be so certain that your way doesn't lead to the same place?"

  "I have help," the other woman murmured, smiling in gentle reassurance. Anya frowned at her, wondering just what the hell that was supposed to mean.

  "You have a crystal ball that shows the future?"

  Marta ignored her sarcasm and Anya watched her smile alter. "Something like that. My path is clear."

  Anya's jaw dropped as several things clicked into place in her head. The pattern that emerged was so incredible that she shook her head in denial, sure that she must be reaching a wrong conclusion again. But just in case she was right, she tested it. "Was your path dreamed?"

  Marta's smile slipped from her face and her eyes widened in honest surprise. She took a moment to answer, but Anya could already see it on her face. "Yes, it was. I am surprised that they told you."

  "They didn't, not really. Rie was her usual cryptic self, but what you said just now… I can't believe this. Thlassnians can really tell the future?"

  "Only some of them and only possible futures. Success of my plan is not certain, but the dreamer has said that it is a right path to take for the survival of our species."

  "And you trust them? They could be feeding you a line of—"

  "Do you trust Rie?"

  Anya had to acknowledge the point with a sigh of surrender. "With my life." Then she stared at the captain suspiciously. "You said a right path, not the right path. Are there other options?"

  Marta slanted her a sly look before turning her face up to the false sun. "They haven't said, but there is one option that I've mentioned and they've confirmed. Surrender. Total unconditional dominion. Slavery, Anya. Is that an acceptable option?"

  "Of course not. But there may be others. Have you explored every possibility?"

  "I've thought my way around so many corners my head has felt like it may explode. But I'm only human. Aside from uselessly beating my head against the brick wall that is Central, this was the only other option I could come up with." She dropped her chin and looked at Anya again, that reassuring smile curving her lips again. "It's not as crazy as it sounds, believe me. If all goes according to plan, there won't be even a moment of violence and what I've started will spread like a balm throughout human space. I expect telepaths will be the first to accept my invitation to come here and live as they wish with no Guild to haunt their every move. But others who are more open-minded—or at least see which way the wind is blowing—will follow. It's my hope that other stations will follow my lead, especially those on the borders close to alien space. If all goes well, eventually Central will change their policies. If it doesn't go well…" She shrugged and her face hardened, but she didn't finish that sentence.

  Anya didn't need her to.

  "Anyway, to be fair, I thought you should know what you were getting into when you made the offer of your talent. And before you went to visit the Queen."

  They were silent for a few minutes. Anya watched the dip and swoop of a bird as it captured insects from the air, its aerial acrobatics both graceful and economic. Could the bird tell that it wasn't on a planet somewhere? Did it have any clue of the dangers that lay just beyond the confines of the Arboretum? Probably not and Anya was afraid that she and the bird had more in common than was wise. But its actions spoke volumes—survival was the bottom line.

  "What do you need me to do?" She felt the captain's eyes on her, but she didn't take her own off of the bird.

  "You're offering your talent to me?"

  "Yes."

  "Thank you, Anya. That's very generous and brave of you. But for now, I don't need you to do anything. Make a life for yourself here—that's all I ask. I wouldn't recommend that you tell what you know to your friends or anyone else for that matter."

  "Who else knows?"

  "Jason knows all of it. Frank knows enough, and some members of my staff are privy to parts."

  Even with her new knowledge, her heart skipped a beat at the mention of the commander, and she grimaced in irritation. "And the Queen? Am I really in no danger if I go to her?"

  "None, unless you act violent, but you don't seem the type." Marta grinned lazily at her, and Anya made a rude noise in the back of her throat.

  "Why me?"

  "The simple answer would be your talent. But there are others. Why do you have a Thlassnian with you, Anya? Have you ever wondered why she was allowed to be in your entourage? Alien visitors are not encouraged to stay."

  "Are you saying they dreamed me here? That they've known all along that I'd end up here?"

  "Or at least that it was a possibility."

  "But why? What could I possibly do?"

  "Again, the simple answer would be your talent, but Thlassnians are not a simple people." Marta shrugged and then tilted her head to one side, studying Anya with keen eyes. "Maybe you should ask your friend."

  "Maybe I should," she muttered, frowning at the greenery around her. It made her uneasy to know that someone so close to her could have such a large secret, especially since it was about her.

  "Well, it's about time for you to meet the Queen. Do you feel up to it?"

  "Not really," Anya muttered, but she got to her feet anyway.

  They wandered back along the trail, and Anya drank in the sights, sounds, and smells while she could. If the Queen didn't make a snack out of her, she needed to bring her friends here. With one last reluctant look, she exited the Arboretum with the captain.

  Chapter 17

  It didn't take them long to reach the entrance of the Hive. Anya was unnerved to discover how close it was to her own quarters. Or maybe it was just because of what she'd learned about this species that the entrance now seemed way too damned close. The captain was calm and serene and that helped to keep Anya's anxiety down—until they came close to the entrance and four Shrieks boiled out at them, using the walls and ceiling as well as the floor.

  Anya didn't bolt, but only because the captain stood calm and unflinching as the insectoids converged on them, feelers and pinchers touching them all over. "M-Marta…"

  "Be calm. They're identifying us." She raised her voice a bit. "This is the human the Queen requested to see."

  They gave no sign that they heard her, continuing their exploration of the t
wo humans. After another uncomfortable moment, though, Anya felt herself being propelled forward. She shot the captain a terrified glance, but the older woman only smiled and nodded encouragement.

  "Don't be afraid; you'll do fine."

  Anya couldn't answer—the adrenaline rushing through her system had dried her throat to dust. What made her so damned scared wasn't so much the constant prods and the suffocating closeness of the four creatures, but the knowledge as she looked at them that they could easily kill her. They looked like a cross between an ant and a beetle, with sectional bodies and large pincers. The strength in those bodies was obvious as they pushed her with what was probably great care on their part down a long tunnel.

  She supposed that they were still in the station, but the walls were covered with a gray material and there was little light. As they went deeper into the Hive she was almost overwhelmed by a sharp, acrid odor that seemed to come from everywhere at once, causing her to cough. She raised a hand to cover her mouth as she coughed, but the Shrieks all paused, running their feelers over her again. She lowered the hand with care, uncertain if that was the problem.

  "Sorry," she mumbled, looking from one dark form to the other and feeling like a mouse in a trap. They pushed her forward again, and she tried to memorize the different turns they began taking. It looked nothing like the layout of the station, and she started wondering if she was still in the structure or if they'd burrowed into the moon itself.

  It took a while, but eventually they prodded her into a large chamber. What sat in the middle of it was the stuff of every childhood nightmare she could ever remember having. Anya nearly went to her knees at the first sight of the Queen.

 

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