Croma Venture: (The Spiral Wars Book Five)

by Joel Shepherd

  He blinked an icon, and a graphic came up — the same beautiful, blue and green world he’d first seen on the picture in the old stone dining room on Do’Ran. “Rando had several billion corbi when the reeh hit it — not as many as Earth had when the krim arrived, the corbi don’t seem to populate as intensively as humans do, but still plenty. How many there are now, no one seems certain. No more than a few hundred million.”

  Deathly silence in the briefing room. The horror of it seemed fresh, for humans at least. For Erik, it felt like deja-vu against that time when he’d entered the Krim Quarter on the Tsubarata with Lieutenant Alomaim and Bravo First Squad. Like the Great War was still ongoing, and the krim still alive and seething.

  “The major cities have been largely depopulated,” Erik continued. “It’s all ruins. There’s no modern cities left. Corbi have dispersed into a pre-urbanised state, farming in the wilderness. That’s a lot more productive for them than it could be because a lot of technology survives, and corbi are smart. Damn smart, in fact — one thing Stan did not touch on in his briefing but that made quite an impression on me, from our discussions of corbi history over dinner with Dega and his clan, it seemed clear that corbi were more advanced at similar moments of civilisation than humans were. For example, they mastered unpowered flight long before the advent of electricity, some time shortly after what humans would have called an iron age. So what we might call their medieval period was notably different from ours in that the corbi had hot air balloons and gliders. Their mechanical engineering seems ingenious, and some of the wonders Dega’s clan described to us, of their old civilisation, the great things they built and did…”

  The lump in his throat caught him quite by surprise. He’d thought he was beyond this sort of emotion now for any but the most personal matters — a tough, battle hardened warship commander who put his emotions aside to focus on the job at hand. But he had to pause now, and take a moment to recompose himself. All saw, and waited, not judging. Not even Trace, watching sombrely, unsurprised. From Romki, sympathy and emotion of his own.

  “All gone now,” Erik said quietly. He took a deep breath. “Most of the population don’t fight. Most of them live out their lives just hoping the reeh don’t visit. Many of them probably achieve that, the reeh can’t be everywhere. But there’s plenty more that don’t. It’s a guerrilla war, of course. For a long time the object was just to try and make Rando so painful for the reeh to occupy that they’d leave. That never worked as planned, because the reeh don’t seem to feel pain as corbi, humans or tavalai do. And the reeh are much better at dealing out pain than the corbi, including wiping out innocent villages in retaliation for every loss.

  “So, much the same as what happened on Earth under the same circumstances — the corbi got offworld and organised. Some of their old fleet survived, and they’ve become quite ingenious. Dega wasn’t forthcoming on much, but to judge from the scale of the operations he described, I think the resistance fleet must have stolen a lot of new ships, and will certainly have established hiding spots out in the dark. Perhaps there are even a few recalcitrant croma clans who are assisting them without Croma’Rai being aware of it, but that’s purely speculation on my part.

  “Eventually the Rando guerrilla fighters acquiesced to the logic of an offworld-led rebellion. Offworld is where the corbi can actually hit the reeh where it hurts, and reprisals against Rando populations make little sense in deterring the fleet because they’d never hear about it anyway. If the corbi only had some powerful benefactor as humanity had with the chah’nas, they might have been able to build up some serious power to fight back with. Maybe they do have far larger facilities elsewhere they’ve been building, but of course Dega wouldn’t tell me if he knew. But instead of the chah’nas, the corbi have the croma, who are holding their agreement with the main species of the Spiral — meaning us, the people of the Spiral — to not let any trouble from the reeh-side get across their wall to bother us while we kill each other.”

  It came out bitterly. Pram and the tavalai watched sombrely. It could not have been nice for any tavalai to sit and watch humans feel common emotional cause with the corbi, given how most humans still blamed tavalai to varying degrees for that blackest chapter in human history.

  “The entire resistance has become streamlined,” Erik continued. “They don’t just hit reeh for the hell of it, they’re not involved in a war of attrition any longer, they know they’ll be ground to dust if they keep it up. They’re gathering intelligence, and they know quite a lot about how the reeh work. They then use that intelligence to try and find creative ways to hurt them. Like I said, corbi are smart. If anyone can do it, they can.”

  “Why do the reeh continue to occupy Rando directly?” asked one of the tavalai. “Are there reeh populations on the surface? Do they expand their civilisation there?”

  Erik took a deep breath. “There’s no full-scale reeh settlement on Rando, no. They’ve got plenty of their own worlds further away from possible croma counter-strike. Most reeh bases are heavily fortified in the wilderness. Dega says they’re primarily research facilities, surrounded by military pacification forces.”

  The tavalai looked surprised. “Research for what?”

  “Genetic manipulation. Of the corbi population.” Stares. “Rando has been turned into a genetic farm. Reeh abduct corbi, experiment on them, then release. Mutations have split the domestic population into divergent groups that did not exist before reeh occupation. There are hideous mutations, cancers, mass die-offs. They do the same to the animal population, some without apparent purpose, but some animal species are being changed to make them useful. Some for food, others for harvestable drugs, others as weapons. Dega says the local fauna are more dangerous now for local corbi populations than reeh raids. Some of the insects that used to just hurt with a bite, now kill. Reeh monitor it all from their bases. It’s a giant petri-dish experiment. Genetic populations are currency for reeh. They don’t invade worlds for minerals or metals, they do it for unique genetic combinations. They have an internal market for them, like we trade commodities.”

  More deathly silence in the briefing room. Broken only by Kaspowitz, who muttered, “It’s a lovely fucking galaxy.” Erik nodded. Many people in the Spiral, of various species, still argued about whether it had been right for humanity to exterminate the krim. He didn’t think that many of those people, considering the plight of the corbi and an unknown number of other species beyond, would voice similar regrets were someone to exterminate the reeh.

  “So that’s the background,” said Erik. “Dega has shown us some of what the corbi resistance knows about the reeh, some of their communications frequencies, the computer language, etc. Needless to say, we now have a lethal advantage in decoding such things and using it against them. But Dega also showed a few details of the resistance’s knowledge of reeh biotech. Dega’s not an expert, he says there are corbi scientists on Rando who have stolen or captured reeh technology and are using secret facilities to backwards-engineer genetic sequences to figure out what the reeh are doing. It’s a treasure-trove of information, we’re not going to get it from the reeh, so we’re going to go and get it from the next-best source. If there’s any place that can give us an idea of what we’re dealing with, assuming alo biotech weaponry did come from the reeh as well — this is it.”

  “This is still a very large assumption,” Pram cautioned. “We have no firm proof that alo biotech did originate from the reeh.”

  “No, except that the dyrsine data-core places alo in this direction more than twenty five thousand years ago,” said Romki, “and that the gene-altering mechanisms we’ve detected in the DNA of both our species require a level of that specific technology unmatched anywhere else in the Spiral, except among the reeh. Long-jumping ships and advanced computer tech I’m fairly sure we can credit the deepynines with, but no branch of AI civilisation pursued any great skill with biotech because they had no great interest, so I’m similarly confident we can credit the alo
with that technology, unassisted by the deepynines. Given we’ve placed the alo in reeh space when we have, I’d say the odds of that technology’s origins lying elsewhere are minor.”

  “Still guesswork,” Pram replied, with typically tavalai stubbornness.

  “Not guesswork,” said Romki. “Deduction.”

  “A fancy human word for guesswork,” Pram retorted. Romki knew tavalai better than to try and get the last word.

  “So,” said Erik. “Human and tavalai scientists are scrambling to find counters to the alo/deepynine’s biotech bombs. Left to their own devices, that cure could take many years, if it ever arrives. We have an opportunity here to boost human and tavalai medical understanding far ahead of where it presently stands, possibly saving both our peoples in the event of any attack.

  “Dega says he knows where one element of the corbi resistance will be in about three weeks from now — he wasn’t more specific, but he says he will become so once he knows we’re serious. He says if we reach that system on the specified date, we can make contact with that element of the resistance and take it from there. Rando is only about three jumps from here, and resistance activity comes much closer than that. Other than that, we’ve no idea where the rendezvous will be. Questions?”

  “How many other people has Dega given this story to,” Kaspowitz said skeptically, “and what happened to them?”

  “Unknown,” said Erik. “Dega operates quietly, the Croma’Dokran won’t talk about it since letting him solicit help from aliens in croma space is technically illegal, and any species wanting access to the far side of the Croma Wall won’t be advertising the fact.”

  “What happens if the Croma’Rai found out we’ve broken croma law by venturing through the wall without their permission?” asked another of Makimakala’s tavalai.

  “Nothing good,” said Pram. His manner suggested that he didn’t particularly care.

  “I’m not familiar enough with croma justice to answer,” said Erik. “We’d better hope they don’t.”

  “Supplementary question,” said that tavalai, undeterred. “What does Croma’Dokran get out of allowing this? Given that they’re assisting what their leaders, the Croma’Rai, have declared an illegal act?”

  Erik indicated to Romki, who did not bother to rise. “Croma’Dokran are well known to disagree with Croma’Rai’s leadership style,” said the Professor. “They mount small destabilisations all the time, challenging Croma’Rai decisions, appealing legal decisions, sometimes mounting military actions against the reeh that have not been centrally approved. Croma clans accumulate political points by appearing bigger and tougher than the other clans. Sabre-rattling can achieve this. I think Sho’mo’ra’s willingness to allow our mission is entirely consistent. He thinks more should be done to help the corbi, thus his hosting Dega’s group in the first place.”

  “I met someone in Dega’s group who has volunteered to act as our guide,” Trace spoke for the first time. “Her name is Tiga. She’s young, early twenties, and quite dissatisfied with Dega. She thinks he’s not serious about helping the corbi, he just wants to live a happy life of privilege. Tiga knows a lot about the resistance, she’s one of Dega’s leading experts on the far side of the wall, she’s quite obsessive. The catch is that she’s never actually been on the far side of the wall — quite a few of this group of corbi have gone over the years, but fewer still have ever come back.”

  “I suppose it hardly needs to be said at this point that I don’t like it,” said Kaspowitz. “We barely know either of these species. We’ve just seen with the parren how complicated this shit can get, but we’re just wandering in and going wherever they point us.”

  “I agree,” added Geish. “Phoenix is a valuable asset to these people because no one will miss us if we’re destroyed. Tavalai Fleet used us to hit the Kantovan Vault. Before that, the Worlders were using us in the human civil war. Then Aristan was using us to get the drysine data-core. Why risk their own people when they can risk our asses instead?”

  “That’s all true,” said Erik, his voice hard. “But the tavalai have got a DNA ticking time-bomb spreading through their population, so we can be pretty sure humanity’s got it too, and we’ve already concluded that any risk is acceptable in finding answers. This is the best avenue we’ve got. And although I’d like everyone’s approval, I’m quite prepared to go without it. And I know Captain Pramodenium feels the same.”

  Pram’s wide, amphibious eyes locked on his from across the holographics. Third-eyelids flickered, and he gave a short, human nod.

  Lisbeth was concentrating so hard on her files and reports that she barely noticed her visitor. When she looked, she saw a black cloaked parren standing by her door. Irritated, she was about to shoo him away — sticklers for protocol on matters concerning higher ranks, lower-ranked parren often trod on each other’s toes deliberately in tests of power. Then she noticed that this Domesh wore no mask, just an open hood, from within the shadows of which she could barely make out…

  And she gasped, then recovered quickly to stand. “Gesul-sa. I’m sorry, I was… concentrating.” And you entered without a room inspection, personal guards or prior announcement, she could have added. These days, that was rare.

  Gesul approached, indicating someone at her office door, a wave of one black sleeve. Timoshene entered and the door closed behind him. Lisbeth’s office was spacious, one large wall overlooking the river that ran through the heart of Shonedene City. About were tall buildings, and above them on either side, the towering cliffs of the Shonedene Valley. Downriver, the mist from the Dalla Falls made a white veil between buildings, across which arced a large rainbow. In the office center, a single pillar to support the ceiling. It was a parren architectural affectation, structurally unnecessary, but it filled empty space with a new focus of attention. About the base of the pillar, a small garden of cacti in white gravel, carefully arranged.

  One problem with Lisbeth’s chair — it placed her higher than any visiting parren, who would typically sit on the floor. With parren of higher rank, that would not do. Lisbeth remained standing, tugging self-consciously at the waist of her robe.

  “Lisbeth Debogande,” said Gesul, in that calm, ponderous tone. “We are in difficulty.”

  Lisbeth’s heart threatened to gallop, but she forced it down in frustration. She was an old hand at danger now, surely she could handle anything. “Gesul-sa. What can I do?”

  “Sordashan is preparing a great ceremony to welcome us. There will be alliance in this time of alien troubles, between House Fortitude and House Harmony. Old rivalries will be put aside, for the greater good of all parren. We see the preparations every day.”

  They did indeed. Shonedene was abuzz with activity, and the great courtyards upon the fork between the Konis and Belula rivers was busy with rehearsals for the huge display to come. There had not been an official alliance between these two most opposed of houses in nearly a thousand years. Fortitude saw alliances as weakness, while Harmony found Fortitude brashness disharmonious.

  “Are we double-crossed, Gesul-sa?”

  Within the cloak, the corner of Gesul’s mouth might have twitched. “Your time among parren has taught you well, Lisbeth Debogande. Yes, double-crossed.” Mured, the word was in Porgesh. The tongue had at least ten other words that described different varieties of the same thing. “My spies in the Tongeshla — the great Fortitude Academy of History — tell me that the masters there have been instructed to search the old works for the very worst drysine atrocities against the parren. I suspect that these histories will be released during the great alliance ceremony, to undermine us all.”

  Liala would be at the ceremony, Lisbeth thought furiously. Gesul’s indigo eyes were upon her, deep in the hood’s shadow, testing her. It wasn’t just the prospect of sharing power and glory with Gesul that would bother Sordashan — it was this unholy alliance with the machines that had once enslaved all parren. Gesul’s discoveries now revealed that the latter part of the Drysine Age
had not been so bad an enslavement after all, but rather an enlightenment… a distinction that cut little ice with many parren today.

  “They will discredit us before all parren?” she asked. “To what ends? A civil war?”

  “It will likely come to civil war, Lisbeth Debogande. The announcement will be a pretext to take us all prisoner, and we lack the forces here to prevent it. Liala will likely be destroyed on the spot, an eventuality that even she is not equipped to prevent.”

  Lisbeth stared at him, suddenly suspicious. “Forgive me, Gesul-sa… you don’t seem very surprised. Am I correct in supposing that you have a plan?”

  Gesul made a faint bow, in humour. Had any other parren than Timoshene seen it, they would have been astonished. “It is this insight that brings me to you, Lisbeth Debogande. I have a mission for you.”

  “A mission?” Lisbeth’s heart, just recovered, began accelerating once more.

  “Five hundred years before the end of the Machine Age, this city was destroyed by machine forces. That is no great irregularity, this city has been destroyed at least ten times in its long history, once by natural forces, but mostly by wars, about half of those between parren. But it was only a young city when it was destroyed for this first time.

  “House Harmony parren saw it rebuilt, even though the city was Fortitude — not then the capital, but soon after. The rebuild involved new flood defences — this river…” and he waved his hand out the wide windows, “…it floods, as you might imagine. This valley is occasionally filled with a raging torrent, every few hundred years or so it would sweep away any major city. So great underground sewers were built, an alternative course for the river, to divert most of the water in a great flood.

  “There were new foundations too — the entire city today rests on a hard, artificial floor above those sewers. House Fortitude have explored them all thoroughly and think they possess all the structural plans. But one portion, rebuilt by House Harmony before the end of the Machine Age, they have not yet discovered. It is there you must go.”