by Jamie Sawyer
“Ah,” said Novak. He pursed his lips. “Then is good you come here. Riggs fell. Could’ve been serious.”
“He did not fall,” I said.
Novak shot a glance at Riggs. He’d staggered to his feet, and was rubbing a hand over his jaw. Already, bruising was beginning to show across his face. He wiggled his jaw around, checking that nothing was broken.
“Tell her,” Novak said.
“I… I fell,” Riggs managed to say.
“You can shut the fuck up, Riggs,” I said, waving my pistol in his direction. “My trigger finger is getting seriously itchy. Stand away from the field, and sit on your bunk. Now!”
Riggs shrank back. The observation-field jumped up again, sealing Riggs in the cell. I jabbed a finger into Novak’s shoulder. He, too, wilted a little beneath by glare. I was pissed off.
“I told you not to have physical contact with the prisoner!” I said. “Your orders were that no harm was to come to him.”
“I did nothing!” he argued.
“And you were talking to him! I specifically told you not to speak with him!”
“Is harmless,” Novak protested. “Is nothing bad.”
“Let me guess what you asked him about: Vasnev.”
Novak swallowed, winced. “Yes,” he said. “He knows about her. I ask him about where to find her.”
“What was the point of that? He’s a traitor! Do you think what comes out of this asshole is going to be anything but bullshit?”
“Is best source I have, yes?” Novak argued.
“And we’ve been through this a million times,” I said. “Why don’t you get it, trooper? You’re a Jackal. We’re on the eve of war.”
“I do get it,” Novak said. “I need to know where—”
I rolled my head at him. “Ah, ah, Novak. You need to know what I tell you.”
Novak fell silent. I could detect Riggs’ glowering sense of triumph from the other side of the obs-field; so pleased that he had driven a wedge between Novak and me.
“The prisoner is a proven manipulator,” I said, eyes narrowing: glaring at Riggs now. “I know that more than anyone.”
“What are you going to do with me?” Novak said, meekly.
“What can I do?” I said. “I can’t send you back. I can’t report you to Heinrich. But I can’t have you standing watch on Riggs any longer.”
Nothing from Novak.
“I’m confining you to quarters,” I said, “with immediate effect. Feng will take over the watch.”
I tapped my wrist-comp, and urgently requested Feng’s attendance. He wouldn’t thank me for waking him at this hour, but needs must. “You’re dismissed,” I said to Novak.
He grunted at me and left the brig. I shook with anger.
That only got worse when I turned to look at Riggs’ smug face. How did you ever care for this bastard? I asked myself.
Riggs smirked. The expression was no doubt designed to make me feel uncomfortable, but it did nothing more than annoy me. Just being in his presence set me on edge. The only consolation was that his face was already swelling. I toyed with the data-ports on my arms. The flesh there was well healed, and the metalwork a little scuffed. The pistol in my hand trembled.
“You’re shivering, Jenk,” he said. “Getting the transition shakes?”
“Fuck you, Riggs,” I snarled. “Don’t ever speak to me, or my squad, again.”
Riggs sat back on the bunk, his fingers interlocked behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling. “I remember the feeling,” he said. “That urge to make transition is a tough one to master, isn’t it?”
“You aren’t ever going to make transition again. I’ll make sure of it.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Riggs said, with practised insouciance.
Still, his words were at odds with his actions. Riggs had pulled up the sleeves of his overall, exposing the data-ports on both arms. I felt a sliver of glee as I saw that both ports had turned bad. The one on his left forearm looked especially irritated; the skin around the plug inflamed.
“You want to get those ports looked at,” I said, with fake sympathy. “Wouldn’t want them to become infected, after all.”
Riggs picked at one with a dirty fingernail, pulling a disdainful face. “I’ll be fine. Don’t be hard on Novak. He only wanted information.”
“It doesn’t matter what you told him,” I said. “Because you can’t use your position any more, Riggs.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said. “I think I’m doing okay, considering that I’m in a prison cell. For instance, I know that your pet fish is currently out of action. Novak told me that, in exchange for a titbit on Vasnev. I also know that we’re almost at Carcosa.”
Riggs was successfully getting under my skin. I tried to hide my reaction, but I knew that I’d probably failed. He continued to scratch at his data-ports, inspecting his bloodied fingernails.
“And how exactly would you know that?”
“I can hear the AI’s announcements in here,” he said. “And the Valkyrie hasn’t jumped in hours. That, together with your obvious need to make transition, leads me to believe that we’re almost there.”
“You’re a fucking genius,” I said, clapping my hands together. “But none of this will get you anywhere. After tomorrow, this will all be over.”
Riggs yawned. “If you say so.”
I drew up a chair and sat down in front of the observation-field. I was, now, just killing time before Feng got down here, but I wanted to make Riggs suffer. I wanted to push his buttons, as he had mine.
“I keep having dreams,” I said. “More like nightmares, really.”
“Is that so?” said Riggs.
“These nightmares are about Cooper, and about his time on Barain-11. He was confined in a Krell nest base for two years, with your father.”
The shift in Riggs’ presentation was only small—his breathing becoming slightly shallower, his shoulders hunching—but I read it well enough. This was Riggs’ motivation for getting involved in this mess, and that made it his weakness.
“So?” he challenged.
“You like to pretend that this doesn’t matter to you,” I said, “but I know that it does.”
“Warlord told me all about it.”
“I’ve got access to Warlord’s memories. I know what really happened in that nest. Your father’s name was Marbec Riggs. He was good friends with Cooper. They served together in the same outfit.”
“He suffered,” said Riggs. “But I’m going to make it right.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
“I plead the fifth. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“I know what happened to your father.”
“Believe what you want,” Riggs said. In an obvious attempt to change the subject, he said, “Warlord and the Spiral took me in after my father left. They showed me the true way.”
“Fine,” I said, shrugging. “If you’re not interested in what I’ve got to say, we can leave it there…”
That was too much for Riggs, and he couldn’t resist. He broke almost instantly.
“What happened to my father?” he asked. He’d undergone a transformation in the last few seconds, and the desperate look in his eyes was almost frightening. “I need the details, Keira. I need to know where he is now. He’s still alive, isn’t he?”
Alive? Was that what Riggs really thought? Was this why he had fallen to the Black Spiral, become part of their organisation? I’d accessed Riggs’ military service record, read everything I could about him. He’d been turned at some point after Clade Cooper’s return from Barain-11, as a result of his association with a Gaia Cult on Tau Ceti. I’d always assumed that Riggs accepted his father was truly dead. Now I wasn’t so sure. Riggs’ sudden and dogmatic insistence that his father was still alive was disarming, and my mask almost dropped.
“I thought that your father didn’t matter any more,” I said, regaining some of my composure. Pathetic or otherwise,
Riggs was still a dangerous man.
“Warlord knows where he is,” Riggs said. “If you know anything else, you have to tell me!”
“You don’t have any right to know the rest,” I taunted. “When the time comes, Riggs, I’ll be sure to give you a quick death.”
Feng arrived at the hatch, a sidearm holstered across his body. He looked from me to Riggs and back again.
“Sorry to wake you, Feng,” I said. He was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but his senses sharpened as he took in Riggs’ injuries. “He slipped, hit his head on the bunk,” I said.
“Right…” Feng said. “That could’ve happened, I guess.”
“No questions asked,” I said. “Keep your eyes on the prisoner at all times, and don’t let Novak in here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Feng said, all formal now.
“Anything weird goes down, call for back-up.”
“Copy that.”
I stepped back towards the hatch. Holstered my own pistol. Riggs watched me go.
“Keira, I think—” he said.
I nodded at Feng. “Turn off the audio. Nothing he says means anything.”
Riggs’ final words were lost as the audio dampener activated.
I left the brig.
“Novak did what?” Zero asked, incredulous.
I went straight from the brig to the barracks, where I tore a strip off Novak. He had simply stood there, head hanging, and listened to my rebuke. Then he’d apologised, promised that he had not done anything else, and once again tried to explain about Major Vasnev. I’d cut him short—I was done with listening to his excuses, and Novak understood that—and confined him to quarters until we reached Carcosa. Then I’d headed to Medical, where Dr Saito was monitoring P. If Riggs had achieved nothing else, he had woken the squad and prevented us from having a decent night’s sleep. It was still the early hours of the morning by the ship’s wake cycle, but with all the commotion Zero was properly awake now, and had followed me down.
She was working at a terminal, Dr Saito examining some cell samples at one of the microscope workbenches. He paused, listening to our conversation.
“He hit him,” I explained. “Several times, in fact.” I paced the lab in a futile attempt to work out some of my anger. “I can’t believe we’re going through this all over again. When will Novak learn?”
“He doesn’t think he has a problem, by the sound of it,” Dr Saito said.
Zero pulled a face and sighed. “Well, from what I can see, Novak managed to deactivate the surveillance programme. I’m surprised that he did that by himself, but it wasn’t a very sophisticated fix.”
“Can you make sure it doesn’t happen again?”
“Sure. I’ll add a security key, so that only senior personnel can deactivate the system.”
“Can you trust this trooper?” Dr Saito said. “I’m sorry—I don’t know the full story, but he seems a little… unstable.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “Unstable is about the size of it. Novak is a good trooper, but he’s easily led. He is obsessed with this Vasnev character.”
“Should you report the incident to Captain Heinrich?” Dr Saito said.
“I’m not going to do that,” I said. “The Jackals take care of their own. Once we get to Carcosa, Novak won’t have any further contact with Riggs. Then, when we re-join the main fleet in the Reef Stars, Riggs can become someone else’s problem.”
“Can’t come soon enough,” Zero said, smiling wanly. “There. The surveillance system is working properly.”
“Thanks, Zero. What’s the latest on mission prep?”
“Also done. All sims are armed and armoured, and have been thawed for imminent deployment.”
“Good job. What about P, Dr Saito? Any news on the cocoon?”
Dr Saito grimaced and looked up from his work. “Chrysalis, Lieutenant, not cocoon.”
“There’s a difference?’
“A cocoon is like a nest. This is a chrysalis; made from super-hardened protein strands. ‘Chrysalis’ is used to describe the development of a terrestrial life-form from pupal stage to maturity.”
“P’s not terrestrial,” I said, my eyes glossing over. “But whatever it is, has it changed?”
“Not significantly. It’s enlarged and seems to be drawing in moisture from the surrounding atmosphere. I’m not sure what the pariah-form is using for nutrients.”
“Have you tried—I don’t know—cutting the pod open?”
Zero cringed at my use of the word “cut”. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. We don’t know what’s happening inside the chrysalis.”
“Correct,” Saito agreed. “P may be in a vulnerable state inside. If its immune system is actively fighting off the Harbinger nano-virus, we might interrupt the healing process. Plus, I’ve tried to use a laser scalpel on the chrysalis’s outer coating. That stuff is very tough.”
“That’d be P,” I said. “Made of stone.”
I bit my lip as I saw that Dr Saito had a dozen security eyes focused on P’s lair. The chrysalis was swollen, shiny-wet with resinous gunk. The cell resembled less a compartment of an Alliance starship, and more the hold of a Krell bio-ship.
“I’ve increased the ambient temperature,” said Dr Saito. “P seemed to like that. I wondered whether a temperature differential might prompt the chrysalis to…” He shrugged. “Hatch?”
I reached out to P with my mind. Tried to establish that link.
We need you, P. Now more than ever. I need you.
But there was nothing. Nothing at all.
Dr Saito sighed. “We’ll watch. We can’t do any more.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CARCOSA, IN YELLOW
The Valkyrie made final approach to Carcosa, and Captain Heinrich called a briefing in the CIC.
“These scanner results are very messy, Commander,” Heinrich said. “Can’t you do something to clean up the visuals?”
“Negative, Captain,” Dieter said. She was plugged to her station by data-ports in her forearms, a sensory-deprivation helm over the upper part of her head. “There’s a lot of hydrogen, interstellar debris, and other trace elements in the Nebula. This is as good as we’re going to get.”
Space here was twisted, all screwed up. Streams of purple and yellow drifted by, visible both on the ship’s tactical-display, and also with the naked eye. Smears of light against the blackness.
“The disturbance is likely caused by ionisation of the Nebula’s gas cloud,” Zero explained. “Or the by-product of radiation bands in the sector.”
“Whatever it is,” said Commander Dieter, “it’s playing havoc with the Valkyrie’s sensor array.”
“Are we sure this is a natural occurrence and not some sort of deliberate stealth-tech?” I asked. Something didn’t sit right with me. “It’s all too convenient.”
“I can’t think of a better place for the remnants of an alien civilisation to hide,” Dr Saito suggested.
“It has to be natural,” said Commander Dieter. “I seriously doubt that any alien species has technology capable of shrouding an area of space this big.”
“Not even the Aeon?” I queried.
“We don’t know what the Aeon are capable of,” offered Dr Saito. He was continually checking his wrist-comp—doubtless monitoring P’s condition—but he still sounded excited. “We should remain alive to any possibility.”
“This place isn’t all bad,” Feng said, trying to make light of the situation. “It’s managed to shut up Phoenix Squad.”
The Jackals stood on one side of the display, Phoenix Squad on the other. Ving’s team seemed to fill the space with their over-muscled bodies, and there was a renewed air of hostility between them and us, the return to old rivalries. Soon, we were going to be getting into the tanks and doing what we did best. Each squad wanted to be the one to take the prize of first contact.
“I haven’t forgotten about Vektah,” Lopez said, glancing at her counterpoint across the display.
“Any time,” Novak said.
Riggs was someone else’s problem for a while. Commander Dieter’s security team had been tasked with guarding him while we were away, under strict instructions not to have any contact.
“We’ve found your planet,” Commander Dieter said, leaning back in her command throne. “Dr Locke’s intelligence has taken us this far, at least.”
Carcosa filled the tactical-display.
The planet was diamond bright, reflecting light back out into space. It was almost jarring against the other colours of the Nebula. It moved in a tight orbit around the neutron star at the system’s core.
The Valkyrie’s remote sensor-suite went into overdrive as it began to relay data. A band of black debris resolved on the scanner, and a series of alerts sounded across the CIC.
“Situation report!” Captain Heinrich demanded.
“I have fresh scanner-returns,” said a crewman.
“Krell?” I queried.
“No…” came the officer’s confused response. “The results are inconsistent with a Krell bio-ship.”
“Send them to the tactical-display,” Dieter requested.
“Aye, ma’am.”
The tactical-display filled with scanner data. The image rapidly resolved, giving us a clearer picture of our surroundings. A tight ring of chaff surrounded Carcosa.
Commander Dieter manipulated the feeds, magnifying certain images. “Those… those are starships.”
“How can that be?” Captain Heinrich said. “This region is unexplored!”
An ancient black hull—spinning endlessly in the void, warped by the heat of an unknown weapon—drifted across the Valkyrie’s path. Other starships followed, tumbling by in a haphazard formation.
Feng sucked his teeth. “They don’t look like any ship design I’ve seen before.”
Even Novak managed a sharp intake of breath.
“They’re not human…” Zero muttered. “That looks like a Shard warship.” She turned to me, expectantly. “Is it?”