The Hana was streaking toward a dark shadow, moving so fast that the details of the cloud could be seen. There were dozens…hundreds of Periglus ships, possibly most of the parked fleet that had been orbiting above Kashya. Now they had all reassembled in local space.
“They’re arranged in a sphere,” she said.
“It’s hollow. The three skivvers are inside,” Mael said. “They have them trapped in the middle.” He bent his head, listening to something she couldn’t hear. Then he tapped the communications console on the dash and Bedivere’s voice emerged.
“…no circumstances should anyone open fire! I repeat again. Do not fire! Surround them, come as close as you dare, but do not fire. Acknowledge!”
Her heart leapt. “He’s trying to prevent open battle,” she breathed.
“Isn’t that why we’re here?” Mael asked her, sounding puzzled. “They fired upon us without provocation.”
“They’re observing,” she said, pointing to the cluster of ships hanging in space. “This is the first time they’ve become aware of us. You can’t greet an alien species with gunfire!”
“Everyone move up closer,” Bedivere said. “Let them see us.”
Catherine gripped the arms of the chair with damp hands, watching as the fleet of Varkan ships circled the Periglus. There were not nearly as many Varkan as there were alien ships, yet there were enough that they could fully enclose the Periglus in a loose net of ships.
For the first time, she got to see the Periglus ships up close. They were an odd mixture of sensuous, curve-hulled vessels and the spiky ships that had made Yuudai Grigorov speak of dragons with red eyes. What no one had mentioned until now was how large they all were.
The Hana Stareach was a large ship in human terms but small in comparison to the smallest Periglus ship she could see.
The skivvers they had trapped must look almost microscopic to the Periglus, she realized. No wonder they had not bothered to pay any attention to the insects buzzing around their outer atmosphere until now.
“Movement,” Mael said sharply.
“They’re breaking up. It’s working,” she breathed.
“No, they’re turning to face us,” Mael said.
They were. Every Periglus ship that had been facing inward, studying the skivvers in their trap was now turning on its axis, to face out toward the Varkan net surrounding them.
“They’re still only observing!” Bedivere warned. “If anyone fires, we’re all dead. Take a deep breath and wait.”
It was easier said than done. Now the Periglus ships were facing them, they felt threatening, for all of them bristled with elongated superstructures that looked a lot like weapons. Some of the fixtures were glowing at the ends.
“Those look like guns to me,” she breathed.
“They’re not firing,” Mael pointed out calmly.
“Screw this.” It was Connell’s voice. “I’m going in between them. There’s room. I can pick up the skivvers and back out the same way.”
No. The protest shaped her lips. She didn’t speak it. If Bedivere was right, if they were only observing, then Connell would be able to slide between them without provoking them. If they didn’t see the approach of his bus as a threat.
“Very slow and easy,” Bedivere replied. “They don’t have speed themselves. They’ll see it as a threat.”
“Dead slow,” Connell confirmed.
Far below her, just at the edge of the window, she saw movement and leaned over the dashboard to look. It was Connell’s big, roomy bus gliding across the space between the Varkan net and the Periglus armada.
“Here,” Mael murmured. A heads-up screen formed and she sat back to look at it. It was a much closer focus than her naked eye could manage.
Connell did not accelerate once the bus was moving forward. She saw the maneuvering jets fire in short spurts as he drifted across, lining the bus up so it could pass between the alien craft, into the center of the sphere they had formed.
The feed changed, showing the view from Connell’s bridge. The Periglus ships weren’t just big. They were huge, massively dwarfing Connell’s lumbering bus. Connell would have been able to see the scale of the craft with a more measured gaze than she, a mere human, had. He had seen how truly large the ships were and therefore, how large the space between each craft really was. That was why he had known he could slip between them.
The ships hung there, silent and still and dark as Connell crept by. They were not reacting, but still Catherine realized she was holding her breath and her heart was racing. Her fingernails were digging into her palms and she clutched the arms of the chair to save her flesh.
The broadband communications feed was utterly silent. Everyone was waiting, just as she was.
The view changed back to a ship on the periphery and Connell’s bus looked small and insignificant as it moved between the Periglus craft.
“I’m through,” Connell said.
She couldn’t relax. If anything, the tightness around her chest increased.
The view switched back to Connell’s bridge. All she could see was a dark lattice shell of Periglus ships and floating in front of them, almost exactly in the center of the ball, the three skivvers.
“Damn it,” Connell breathed. “Dagmar is dead. There’s no life support.”
“Acknowledged,” Bedivere said shortly. “Retrieve all of them, Connell and come back the same way you entered.”
Catherine knew he was speaking in that practical tone to dampen the reaction everyone would have had to the news that one of them had been killed by the aliens. Bedivere would be just as upset by the death as the others.
The view stayed with the feed from Connell’s bridge. There was no other feed that would be able to see inside the sphere.
Connell increased his speed, drawing closer to the skivvers. “Opening the bay ramp,” he murmured.
The skivvers dropped away from view as the bus moved in over the top of them. Catherine knew what he was going to do. The bus had a descending ramp up into the freight bay that made up the bottom half of the bus. He was going to scoop up the one-man skivvers with the ramp.
The view slid to the right as Connell turned.
“All aboard,” he said. “Ramp closing. Returning.”
The view kept spinning as he came around in a slow circle, still using an ambling pace to avoid alarming the Periglus, as he headed back to the wall of ships once more.
Catherine was almost vibrating with tension. Would the Periglus resent having their specimens taken? Or were they using these moments to measure the Varkan and their behavior, to analyze later?
The ships grew larger in the display as Connell drew closer. Then he was easing his way through them again. As he passed, Catherine saw a large oval shape inscribed on the side of one of them and realized she was looking at a door. She had no idea how big it was. It looked very large in the view from Connell’s bridge.
As the bus emerged between the two ships, the view switched back so that she could watch the small bus glide toward the outer Varkan net.
“When Connell reaches our perimeter,” Bedivere said, “I want everyone to back off. Nice and slow, just like Connell is doing it.”
“We’re not going to fight?” someone asked on the open channel.
“We’re not going to fight,” Bedivere said flatly. “If we provoke them, do you have any doubt that they will slap us down and destroy us all?”
Silence.
“So we’re going to back away,” Bedivere added. “Very slowly and softly.”
“Level with you, now,” Connell said.
“Everyone, back up. Use your maneuver engines only. I want them to see us moving away. Don’t turn! Keep looking them in the eye.”
Catherine glanced at Mael. He nodded. He was following Bedivere’s instructions. She dissolved the heads-up and looked out the windows, instead. Very gradually, so slowly it took moments to notice the difference, the Periglus ships grew smaller as the distance between the Hana
and them increased.
“Now, we’re going to leave them something to think about,” Bedivere said. “We’re all going to jump out of here at the same moment. In thirty seconds. If anyone can’t jump in thirty seconds, speak up.”
More silence.
Catherine swallowed. The Periglus were still motionless.
“In five…four…three…two…one!”
The star field shifted. The Periglus ships disappeared. The Hana rotated and Charlton swung into view. Between the Hana and the city drifted dozens of Varkan ships.
They were home.
Catherine let out a shaky breath, leaning against the dashboard.
Mael looked at her.
“That could have been…very bad,” she whispered.
He nodded. “Devlin is asking after you,” he added.
“Where is he?”
“Waiting just outside the dock doors.”
“Damn.” She hadn’t left him any messages about taking the Hana. She had just jumped, prodded by the news alert into acting first.
Mael frowned. “There is a lot of shouting. Everywhere, on every feed.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she said and sighed. Time to go face the music. “Take us in, Mael.”
* * * * *
Devlin didn’t wait for the Hana to be officially landed and the dock seals to be lifted. He must have pushed his way through the man-sized door even as the Hana was settling on the pad, for he swarmed up the boarding stairs as soon as they extended and thumped on the door for entry.
Catherine opened the door from the bridge. She heard him shouting from there.
“Catherine! Where are you?”
She touched the PA link. “I’m on the flight deck, Devlin.” She turned the chair and got to her feet, watching the entrance.
Devlin took the stairs two at a time, up to the deck level. He was almost running.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you if I could take the ship out—”
He didn’t speak. Instead, he hugged her, pulling her against him with a frantic grip and just…held her. She could feel his heart thundering against her chest. Surprised, she stood passively in his arms.
He didn’t seem to notice. He let her go and stepped back and cleared his throat. “You scared me,” he said. His voice was hoarse. “I’m not the only one. For most people, that’s the first time they’ve seen the Periglus up close like that.”
“The feeds were transmitted,” Catherine said, her heart sinking. Mael had said there was a lot of shouting. Now she understood why. Mass hysteria was noisy. “We’re fine. Everyone came back.” Thanks to Bedivere. The words were there and she swallowed them.
Devlin pushed his hair back into place. His hand was shaking, she saw. “I hope you didn’t dent the hull?” he asked.
“See for yourself,” she told him. “I’m done with being captain for today.” She waved around the deck. “The ship is yours. I need a drink and a shower.”
“There’s a town meeting in two hours’ time!” he called after her as she left the flight deck.
The leader was reasserting his authority, she realized.
Yet his hand had been shaking.
Was Bedivere wrong about him?
Chapter Thirty
Charlton Space City, New Cathay (Ji Xiu Prime), Ji Xiu System, Perseus Arm. FY 10.187
Bedivere landed first, because his bay was a permanent assignment, while Connell had to wait for the AI to assign him a dock. So when Connell climbed down to the bay floor, Bedivere was standing waiting for him. So were many of the Varkan who had just jumped to Kashya. He noticed Mael Maedoc from the Hana, Arrigo Soward, Cleon, Wayna and many more, before he was enfolded into a breath-robbing hug from Bedivere.
“I would call you a reckless idiot, except you aren’t,” Bedivere breathed in his ear. “Well done.”
That whispered compliment warmed him far more than the spontaneous cheering and clapping that broke out around him.
“We need to get the skivvers,” he reminded everyone.
“I think that’s already being done,” Bedivere said, letting him go. He nodded toward the ramp at the end of the bus that had been lowered. A dozen or more people, human and Varkan, were rushing into the freight bay. There were emergency stretchers and medics among them.
Bedivere gripped his arm. “You heard about the meeting that has been called?”
“The town meeting? Yes.”
“They’re calling it a town meeting,” Bedivere said, “but don’t be fooled.” He dropped his voice even lower. “This is Sarkisian’s end game,” he said softly. “He knows we have his real identity. This will be a move to shut us down one way or another.”
“Like you said, he can only discredit you.”
“Don’t underestimate him.” Bedivere stepped aside. “And now, I think someone wants to talk to you.”
He nodded toward the big docking bay doors.
Standing just inside them was Yennifer. She was not part of the swirling crowd of people working on the ship, extracting the Varkan from the skivvers, or standing around talking. She stood alone and she was watching him.
Connell sighed and wove through everyone to where she was standing.
“They’re saying you’re a hero,” Yennifer said. Her big brown eyes looked up at him, making his chest squeeze.
He braced himself. “I was scared spitless the whole time. I’m no hero,” he assured her. “Is that why you’re here?”
She glanced around him. She had to shift her feet and lean to one side to see around him because he was so much taller than her. “There’s too many people here. Can I walk you back to the suite?”
He nodded and she led him out of the bay and onto the public concourse that served the bays in this village. They were a hundred meters from the bay before she spoke. “You know what happened to Nichol, don’t you?”
“I heard,” he said, remembering everything that had happened before he scrambled onto the bus to jump to Kashya. “It’s been a busy couple of days,” he added.
“You disappeared for three days,” she said and glanced up at him. It was a coy look and some might even say it was innocent. Yet Connell halted in the middle of the passage they were in and held out his arm as the people behind them ran into him with soft apologies, fending them away from Yennifer. He stared down at her. “You think I did that to him,” he breathed.
“You spent a week looking for him.”
“We didn’t find him—you can check the records yourself, or ask Lilly. I did not hurt him.”
“And what were you going to do to him if you had found him?” she asked.
Innocence on the outside, a really smart Varkan within. Connell swallowed. “I don’t know what I would have done. I just wanted to find him, first.”
Her gaze wouldn’t let him go. “You were angry.”
He sighed. “Yes. Damn it, yes! I wanted to kill him! It’s just feelings, that’s all!”
“So you spent a week looking for him…” she breathed. She lifted herself up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.
It was a sweet and innocent kiss, as only a kiss from Yennifer could be, yet there was a heat and promise to it that yanked his breath from him and stole his thoughts. Connell managed to get his arms working enough to grab hers and pull her away from him.
Yennifer just looked at him, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth.
“Don’t,” he said heavily.
“Why not?”
“Just…don’t.” He pushed her farther away. Gently. Then he stepped past her and kept going.
He found himself outside the suite ten minutes later, with no idea how he’d got there.
* * * * *
Bedivere was the last to arrive at the suite, or so Zoey informed him as he stepped through the door.
“Everyone is preparing for the town meeting,” she said, “which starts in seventy-two minutes. There is a parcel for you, marked urgent.” She pointed to the coffee table. A plain parcel container sat there
.
“Who is it from?” he asked, frowning. “And how urgent?”
“There is no recorded sender. The urgency is marked as high.”
Bedivere debated leaving it until later. There wasn’t a lot of time left and he wanted to talk to Brant and Lilly and Connell before they left for the Central City dome. The urgent tag meant that Zoey wouldn’t leave him alone until he’d opened it. That was why she had drawn his attention to it as soon as he’d stepped through the door.
Swearing silently, he strode over to the table and picked up the parcel and pushed his thumb against the lock with an impatient thrust. The seal broke and he pulled the lid off and tossed it onto the coffee table.
The inside of the container, like many of the parcel containers that circulated around the galaxy, was metal-lined and protected against radiation, which made it impervious to passive scanning. The metal lining had an inner layer of padding so the contents weren’t damaged.
Nestled against the lining on the bottom were three shining globules. Medical dosages, prepackaged, with their own one-use injectors. The golden brown liquid moved sluggishly inside the globes.
He dropped the whole container, letting it fall from his nerveless fingers and staggered backward. Away from the box. His heart was exploding.
One of the doors in the suite opened. “Zoey, what on earth…?” Lilly asked. Then, “Bedivere! What’s happened?” She came over to him and put her hand on his arm, looking up at him.
Bedivere couldn’t speak. His throat was too tight. He couldn’t take his gaze away from the box and the golden cylinders that were scattered on the floor in front of it. The trembling started and overwhelming need leapt in his mind.
It was right there. All he had to do was reach out and pick it up.
Lilly turned, looking over her shoulder. She spotted the box and turned to look more closely. “Zoey, what is this?”
“I believe it is three medical doses of a synthetic arylcyclohexylamine derivative with the pharmaceutical name of Darzi,” Zoey replied.
“Brant!” Lilly screamed.
“I’m here. I heard.”
“What’s wrong?” Connell said, from farther away.
And still, Bedivere couldn’t pull his gaze away from the box.
Cat and Company Page 26