by Natalie Grey
“We fought well,” Koel told them. “We built something magnificent. This fleet was a thing of beauty. But as you know, strength and power are nothing if they are outmatched. Today, we have found ourselves outmatched.” He entered the sequence to accelerate the Avaris. “All that is left to us is to make our enemy pay for killing us.”
The officers gaped at him. The admiral understood first and ran toward Koel, but Koel leveled the gun at his chest and fired. The admiral’s body skidded and fell into one of the recessed bays, and the crew nearby screamed and scrambled away from it.
Koel pointed the gun around the bridge. He laid in coordinates, his eyes meeting theirs. “There is no escaping death now,” he told them. “We will die a glorious death together.”
The grappler missile soared toward the Shinigami, its cables humming with energy. There was no way it was getting away from him.
And then another ship appeared in the space between the Jotun fleet and the Avaris. Confused by this new target, the grappler missile altered its course.
“Sir!” The officer’s yell was instinctive. “It’s a Yennai ship. It’s reading as a Yennai ship, and the missile is locking on.”
“We’re here,” Tik’ta announced. “Just scanning the area for—”
Her voice trailed off in a squeak.
“Holy shit…” Dretkalor breathed. Dwarfing them on either side were entire fleets. Ships had already been lost, their shattered hulks twisting gently in clouds of debris. They had arrived in the middle of some sort of ceasefire, and the silence only made everything even eerier.
The scanners lit up with a wail, and Chofal screamed, pointing.
“It’s a missile! It’s locked onto us!”
“Go!” Zinqued screamed at Tik’ta. “Go, go, go, go!”
27
The officers on the deck rushed to the targeting systems. The crisis had broken through their shock after Koel’s orders and Koel stood frozen, staring at the screen. He still held the gun, but even he was so surprised by the sudden appearance of the other ship that pointing it at anyone didn’t occur to him.
Lotar took his chance. He tackled Koel to the floor. The gun clattered across the floor, and Koel growled in fury. His hands found Lotar’s throat.
“You can’t stop this!” There was no sanity left in his eyes.
“You’ve lost your mind!” Lotar choked out. He struggled against Koel’s grip, but the older Torcellan was surprisingly strong. Spots danced in front of Lotar’s eyes as his blood flow was cut off. “For the love of all that’s holy, do you really want to die?”
Koel threw back his head and laughed. His hands relaxed finally and he rolled away, his cackles echoing off the metal ceilings and floors. Lotar pulled himself away, heaving for breath. He met the eyes of the rest of the bridge crew, but no one knew what to do, seeing their leader run mad.
“Of course, I want to die!” Koel hissed. His gaze swept them all. “What is there left for me? My children are dead. My wife is dead. I have no legacy.”
Fury swept through Lotar. He launched himself at Koel, pounding his fist into the other Torcellan’s face. He smashed it until Koel’s blood streamed onto the metal floor.
“And what about us?” Lotar screamed. “What about us? Didn’t it occur to you that we might want to live? We don’t want to die just because you’ve lost your damned legacy!”
He saw now that Koel had never thought of that. Koel had never once considered his employees as anything more than things, there to help or hinder him. To Koel, no one else in the universe was really a person. His wife, he had killed because she questioned him. His son, he had killed to strengthen his daughter—and only because his daughter was someone who would help his own legacy grow.
Koel had never cared about anything but his own glory.
Lotar hauled the bleeding Torcellan upright and pushed him toward the console. “Undo the commands! Undo them! Now!”
Koel was still laughing. Even as Lotar had smashed his knuckles into Koel’s face, Koel never stopped laughing. He had no sense of reality anymore. He sank to the floor and looked up at Lotar, who shuddered when Koel’s eyes fixed on him.
“No,” Koel said. “It’s under my authorization, and I put it through without overrides. There’s no way to undo it now.”
The missile streaked closer. Tik’ta pushed the Julentai as fast as it would go, but the missile was accelerating. Then the Avaris pushed ahead of the rest of the fleet, gunning for the Jotun ships.
“Go!” Zinqued screamed. Caught between the planet and the dreadnought with the missile closing in the Julentai was impossibly outmatched, but some ridiculous part of him didn’t seem to grasp that.
A transmission broke through the static and the wailing alarms. “Haron’s Shield, this is the Avaris.” The voice was tight with worry. “Continue evasive maneuvers. We are attempting to reroute the missile.”
“Attempting?” Tik’ta shrieked. She hadn’t bothered to press the button for transmission, for which Zinqued was grateful. She swerved and threw everything she had into the systems. She didn’t have any time to be sending messages.
Chofal worked at the secondary desk. The Yofu didn’t bother to run back to the engine room. No changes they could make now would happen in time. She shut down auxiliary systems one by one, and the heat was already climbing.
“Haron’s Shield, we are doing everything we can. Loop around and try making a pass down in front of the fleet. We’ll try to terminate the missile in the crossfire. Maybe we’ll hit some of those Jotun bastards at the same time.”
“It’s working.” Chofal looked dazed. “It’s actually working. They think we’re a Yennai ship.”
“Good,” Dretkalor said. “Because that’s the only thing that has a chance in hell of saving our asses.”
“Holy shit,” Shinigami swore. “Everyone out of the way! Move!”
“What’s going on?” Barnabas asked worriedly. “What’s happening with that ship?”
“It’s some Yennai ship that showed up late, but that’s not the headline here. Koel’s gone stark raving mad. He’s trying to take as many of us with the dreadnought as he can, and he’s not going to pull up before he hits the planet’s surface.”
“You can’t be serious.”
She directed her attention to evasive maneuvers while responding, “I am as serious as a poutine shortage in Chicoutimi during a bonspiel. The guy’s fucking nuts. Peanut brittle. Cocktail mix with the Chex taken out. Big can of honey-roasted crazy.”
Barnabas was laughing. He abruptly stopped, frowned, and leaned closer to the screen. “I’ll be damned! Isn’t that the ship that tried to capture us before? At the Yennai headquarters, I mean.”
“That’s ridicu—” Shinigami scanned it. “Sonofabitch. It’s showing up as a Yennai ship on the scanners, but it is the same ship. I have the technical specifications and the pictures I took last time. “They’re… Well, they must be trying to… You know, I have no idea. What are they doing?”
“Regretting their life choices?” Gar suggested. He watched as the ship wavered wildly and tried to dive under the nose of the Avaris.
“Bingo,” Barnabas said. “That. Right there. That’s what they’re doing. I’d make another speech that would make them wet themselves, but I’m honestly not sure I’m scary enough to outdo a dreadnought.”
“You could always try,” Shinigami pointed out. “You can’t just bail every time you get a little competition. All right, everyone, hold on. We’re getting out of the way of the Avaris, because I’m honestly not betting on anyone being able to override Koel’s commands.”
“We could ask Koel to,” Barnabas suggested.
“Don’t have to, actually.” Shinigami switched over the screens. “We’re being hailed. Looks like Koel wants to make a speech.”
“Haron’s Shield, you are clear of the missile. I repeat, you are clear of the missile. Crossfire detected, follow heading 4481 to evade,” the communications officer shouted hurriedly into
the mic. “We’re closing on the planet fast,” she whispered to her commanding officer.
At the navigation desk, Lotar had retrieved Koel’s gun and pointed it at him while the rest of the crew watched with bated breath.
No one was going to intervene. Koel had gone insane and shot the admiral. Lotar was only doing what needed to be done.
But it didn’t seem to be making any difference. Koel picked up the communications unit, and Lotar screamed with fury. He ordered Koel to undo the commands, and when Koel did not move, Lotar shot him.
Koel did not fall. He stumbled back and looked down at his stomach, where the bloodstain was spreading across his clothes. He looked up at Lotar and smiled.
“Shoot him again,” someone whispered. “We have to—”
Koel brought the comm up to his mouth.
“Assembled fleets.” He smiled at the bridge crew beatifically despite the blood streaming down his face and staining the front of his robes. Lotar stared at him in horror. They all did. “Today you have witnessed the fall of the Yennai Corporation. Those of you on the Jotun and human ships believe this is your victory, but this is no victory, not for anyone. The Yennai Corporation was a marvel, something beyond what others had ever dreamed.
“Others were scared of our vision, the Jotuns and the humans among them. They banded together to destroy us, as lesser creatures will always band together to defeat those who aspire to more. No doubt they now think to put us on trial and hold us to their laws.”
Outside the windows, the fiery glimmer of the atmosphere burned. The surface of the planet approached much too fast.
“I will not be used and shamed,” Koel told them. “I will not be made into propaganda, reduced to a mere civilian in one of their jails. And I will save my crews as well. I will keep them free of such petty moralizing. We will die with honor!”
Before any of them could stop him, he suddenly lunged at Lotar. Lotar struggled, but Koel snatched the gun and shot the control panel, splintering it, then put the gun to his head, pulling the trigger as the officers backed away.
The Avaris sped through the black, hitting the atmosphere with a visible flare of heat. Jotun ships, scattering before it, accelerated full-bore to get out of the way of its massive sides. Shinigami wove between them so as not to hit anyone, and her crew looked at one another, jaws open.
“He’s crazy as balls,” Gar said finally.
“He— Where did you learn that phrase?” Barnabas blinked.
“Tabitha.” Gar watched the dizzying view on the screen as Shinigami swerved and banked. “She tried to explain it, but it didn’t make much sense. He really didn’t care about any of them in the end, did he? He would rather kill all of them himself than let us ‘win’ by any stretch of the imagination.”
“Yes,” Barnabas agreed softly.
“I didn’t expect that.” Tafa came forward to watch as the Avaris smashed into the surface of the barren planet at last, shattering and causing a monumental shockwave. “I thought he would fight to the end. I used to dream of taking away everything Mustafee cared about and making him live as I had lived, but now I’m glad I didn’t. What would he have done to the people around him if he’d faced death? He might have killed them like Koel did.”
They nodded quietly.
“Radio back to High Tortuga,” Barnabas told Shinigami. “The real one this time, mind you.” There was the shadow of a smile at his lips. “Tell them the Yennai Corporation is gone. We’ll clean up the dregs of it at our leisure.”
Shinigami looked at him. “A full report will show my data breach and my internal protocols in that case—”
“I know them,” Barnabas said, untroubled. “And I think I speak for everyone when I say, ‘don’t you dare.’”
“I would have if I could have done so at the time.”
“I know that. So I’m glad you couldn’t.” Barnabas smiled at her. “Also, I have a present for you on High Tortuga.”
“What is it?” She looked intrigued now, diverted by the change in topic.
“You’ll see when we get there.” Barnabas settled back in his chair. “Now for the important question. A game of chess while we make our way there?”
“It depends. Did you clean the blood off the chessboard?”
Among the horde of fleeing Yennai ships now being picked off by the Jotun fleet, the Julentai dove around the edge of the planet and accelerated away into the black.
“D’you think the Shinigami noticed us?” Chofal asked nervously.
“Of course not,” Zinqued declared. They’d gotten away with their lives, and he was absurdly grateful.
Still, he was a bit glum as well. Now they had to come up with a whole new plan to catch the Shinigami.
He’d think of something, he decided. He always did.
It wouldn’t be long before that ship was theirs.
28
The sounds of steel drums carried along the sea breeze. Nearby, in a vat of sea water, Jotuns bobbed and darted around one another. Gar thought they were dancing. Shinigami was sure it was a Jotun fight club.
Tafa was painting it.
Barnabas, meanwhile, tried to teach a very unwilling patient how to walk.
“Come on.” He held out his hands. “Just one step. You’re doing really well.”
“You keep it up with that encouraging crap,” Shinigami said testily, “and I’ll rip your eyes out. I can do it now, too. I have fingers.” She took a step, moved the wrong leg the next time, and toppled into the sand.
“Somehow, I’m not too worried about your vengeance.” Barnabas grinned down at her. “Do you want me to help you up?”
“I’ll crush your throat.”
“Uh-huh.” He surveyed the ocean as she levered herself up.
She’d been ecstatic when she saw her mechanical body. Barnabas, having conversed with Bethany Anne about TOM’s progress, had commissioned an avatar in the image Shinigami most often used—a cross between Tabitha and Bethany Anne.
Tabitha had proceeded to announce that she needed to make sure the ass was up to her standards before she could let Shinigami be installed in the body. Apparently, it had passed muster.
None of them had anticipated how difficult it would be to move in it, however.
“You’d think there would be subroutines for this sort of thing,” Barnabas mused.
“There are.” Shinigami looked annoyed. “I’m not using them. I should be able to walk on my own, shouldn’t I?”
“It takes humans what, a year? More? And even then they aren’t good at it for—”
“I’m not a baby!”
“Uh-huh.” Barnabas was still looking away. Shinigami was very prickly about having anyone help her with this. She’d wanted to have a sparring match with Barnabas as soon as she woke up.
Then she had pushed herself sideways off the bed and shattered a chair by landing on it—not to mention Gar’s leg, since he’d been sitting in the chair in question. He was still quite wary around her, which didn’t help her mood.
“All right, I’m trying again.” Shinigami brushed her dark hair behind her ear—a process that involved hitting herself in the face twice and nearly tangling her fingers in her hair—and took a few shaky steps. “It’s easier when I don’t think about it too hard for some reason.”
“A lot of things are like that.”
“Yes, but do you know how hard it is for an AI not to give something their whole focus?”
“Do you remember when you first made an avatar?” Barnabas asked her. He strolled along at her side, his hands behind his back. “You sat perfectly still and never blinked. Now you laugh, you make the eyes look at things you’re focusing on, you fidget—all of it. You’ll get the hang of this too.”
“I suppose so.”
“You suppose so? Let’s have some verve.”
“Fine. I will get the hang of this. I will crush my enemies and see them driven before me, and hear the lamentations of their women. Happy now, Mr. Show Some Verve?”
“Not quite.” Barnabas pulled off his shoes, tossed them into the shade of the trees at the edge of the sand, and waded into the water. He smiled. “Now I’m happy.”
“You can’t be serious. Why are you wading into the water?”
“It’s warm. It feels nice. You have nerve endings, yes?”
“Yes, but I hate them.” She shuddered. “Constant biofeedback. Take a step, feel some pain. Adjust your posture, feel some pain. How do humans deal with it without going mad? Actually…” She frowned. “That explains a lot. You’re all mad.”
“As hatters,” Barnabas agreed. “I don’t think that’s why, but I could be wrong. You’re walking very well right now, by the way.”
“Am I? I wonder how I’m doing that. I… Oh, sonofa—” She tumbled into the sand. “You say not to think about it, and then you draw my attention to it?”
“Yeah, that one was on me. I’m sorry.”
She stuck out an arm and tripped him, sending him sprawling into the waves. “There. Now we’re even.”
“I liked this coat!”
“I’m sure the saltwater will wash out. Don’t be such a baby.” She wiggled her toes in the sand. “This feels peculiar.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Barnabas sat up but didn’t bother to get out of the water. He stretched out his legs and leaned back on his hands, looking at the sky. “You know, aside from the sky being too purple, this is a nice place. I bet we could start a proper resort for humans here.”
“You want to run a hotel?”
“No, that sounds terrible. Just a large building for people to visit when they wanted to. I think Tabitha would like it.”
“Probably.” Shinigami made a few attempts to pull her hair into a ponytail and gave up. “Jeltor’s coming.”
“How can you tell that’s Jeltor?”