“Please. I’m going to find the bomb, but I won’t be able to properly concentrate and do my job if I’m worried about what will happen to you should I fail.”
Will nudged him backward, over the threshold of his office, and closed the door behind them. He brought both hands to Richard’s face. “I love you for being afraid for me and wanting to protect me. You know I do. But I can’t shirk my responsibilities any more than you can. I trust you to find and disarm the bomb. I need you to trust me to do my job.”
Richard opened his mouth to retort, but he had no response that wasn’t based on pure emotion. So instead he drew Will into his arms and kissed him, long and slow, then whispered against his lips. “The instant you can leave, do it. I’ll see you soon.”
He reached around and opened the door, and they both took off in opposite directions.
“Cliff, anything?”
‘Nothing so far. The container has not been scanned into any new sectors. A comprehensive threat scan is underway, but thus far no traces of antimatter have been detected.’
This was why Dr. Khalik had handled the transfer. Any moderately trained Savrakath military officer could move an antimatter casing from one container to another. Khalik had been called upon to build a shield around the casing, one designed to insulate it from most standard scans.
Richard didn’t stop to check in with any of the CINT departments. Those who could meaningfully contribute to tracking down the bomb or the missing crewmember or helping to effect the evacuation had their orders, and everyone else was being sent home. Him, though? He had to find that bomb.
He finally reached the CINT entrance and headed out into the open atrium, toward the nearest levtram station. He’d start at the last tagged location of the container, then work from there—
“Richard!”
He turned at hearing his name to see David jogging over to him from one of the levtram platforms. “Is something up? My class at SWTC got evacuated by several very terse Security officers.”
His gaze darted between the levtram platform and David for several seconds. They had not mended their relationship, but now was not the time to worry about interpersonal conflicts. David Solovy was a faster and more creative thinker than any person he knew, and doubly so in the midst of a crisis. He should send the man off the station, because whatever their current differences, he did want his friend to be safe. But he also needed him.
He grabbed David by the upper arm. “Come with me.”
“Of course. Where are we going?”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it out.”
56
* * *
ADV DAUNTLESS
Toki’taku Stellar System
Lance gripped the railing until his knuckles turned white as the Dauntless dropped into an eighty-degree plunge toward the planet’s mesosphere. The thickening air fought back, and the hull shuddered as they pulled up out of the dive and skidded along the buffeting atmosphere.
A powerful laser strike impacted their port side, and the force of the strike drove the ship down toward the planet once again. If this were the previous incarnation of the Dauntless, they’d all be dead now. But this was a new ship constructed under a new set of rules, and his ace navigator skillfully maneuvered them up out of the atmosphere, then promptly flipped their heading to target the firing Rasu.
From this vantage, with the planet at his back, Lance had a brief opportunity to survey a wide swath of the battlefield. The space between here and Toki’taku’s small moon was thick with Concord vessels—Commandant Solovy had not skimped on this battle—but it remained even thicker with Rasu. His gut told him how the rest of the battle was going to play out, and it boiled down to the Rasu sending ever more forces until they could simply bulldoze their way through the defenders and descend upon the planet.
He was doing his damnedest to keep the Rasu in space, but despite a fleet of indestructible, state-of-the-art warships, he was giving ground every minute. They all were.
On the far edge of the tactical map, multiple red blips flashed into existence, only for many of them to vanish again seconds later. Three stealth squadrons were responding to new Rasu arrivals, greeting them with a barrage of negative energy missiles even before they finished emerging from their wormholes. But some always slipped through—
—the bridge whipped around beneath his feet, as if it had been spun like a top. “Report!”
“We’re losing impulse control! The engine is firing, but it’s not doing any good!”
As the ship cavorted helplessly, the viewport showed flashes of a blinding vortex on every spin. Lance fought past nausea to try to focus. Had the Rasu really dared to open a wormhole right at the edge of the atmosphere? The defenders didn’t dare use negative energy weapons en masse so close to the planet…and the Rasu knew it.
“We’re trapped in the gravitation pull of a wormhole vortex. All engines reverse full. Whatever we’ve got, use it!”
The hull would hold; it had taken enough of a beating today already to convince Lance of this. But the last thing he wanted was to be sucked through a hole in space and deposited in the middle of Rasu Central untold megaparsecs away. His battle was here, and he’d be damned if he was going to be forced into abandoning it.
The swirling light of the vortex was blotted out by the encroaching shadows of several massive Rasu emerging from it, and abruptly the cosmic forces tearing at them faded away as the vortex dissipated.
“Get us some room so we can tally up what that wormhole brought down upon us.”
“Yes, sir.” The navigator’s voice shook, but he’d performed above and beyond when it counted.
Steering control regained, they banked up and away from the planet before swinging around…Lance’s heart sank. Several dozen Rasu of varying sizes had exited their vortex and immediately accelerated into the atmosphere below. Agile attack craft pursued them, but mid-atmosphere dogfights were not particularly accurate or productive—and soon they’d be fighting only a few kilometers above the surface.
They needed a new strategy, but hells if he knew what it might be. Nothing in his past had prepared him for this manner of enemy.
As if on cue, Commandant Solovy called an impromptu conference with the battlefield commanders. Before Lance joined it, he sent Nika a message.
MIRAI
Omoikane Initiative
A group of oversized Rasu vessels are starting to break through the blockade and enter the atmosphere. If we’ve got some trick stashed up our sleeve, we need to play it now.
Nika closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her temples, breathing in a final moment of calm.
Understood.
She pivoted to Dashiel. “Get to the DAF Military Services Center and be ready to offload our entire supply of Rima Grenades as soon as I give the word.”
He reached out and drew her into his arms for a brief embrace. “Good luck.”
“Thank you. I need it.” With tense smiles they parted ways, and she grabbed the large, heavy bag she’d stashed in a corner then headed up to the roof.
When the battle had begun, she’d considered traveling to the Dominion Embassy on Toki’taku to better be in a position to act quickly. But it meant leaving the Initiative in the midst of a crisis, and there was no guarantee the Elder would authorize an official visit on her part while he was busy managing the planetary defense. So she’d remained at the Initiative until the last possible minute—and now she needed to get herself in front of the Elder with a snap of her fingers.
Atop the Mirai One Pavilion, enclosed in a protective force field, sat a modified Sukasu Gate. Given her continued failure to decipher how to open wormholes using her mind alone, the device constituted the only way they had to create a wormhole with a dynamic destination point. The technology worked—she’d proved that by hop-skipping the Wayfarer across five megaparsecs of space in a few weeks to reach the Milky Way. But in practice it was bulky, delicate and required a great deal of power, hence i
ts location on the roof instead of inside with the more traditional d-gates.
Because she’d alerted the staff that it would likely be called into use today, a DAF officer waited beside the force field in addition to the usual dyne security detail. He nodded sharply as she approached. “Advisor.”
“Good evening, officer. Please deactivate the force field.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He punched a code into the control pane, and the field sizzled briefly then flickered off. “What’s your destination?”
“Toki’taku. The Alcazar.”
“We don’t have authorization to open a wormhole on Toki’taku, except for inside our embassy grounds.”
“I realize that, but the exigent circumstances require it. Please…Lieutenant, is it? I take full responsibility for any negative consequences that may result from my actions.”
“It’s not about—”
“I’m filing a report this instant with Commander Palmer and DAF Command absolving you of any and all blame related to my use of the Sukasu Gate.”
“Yes, ma’am. The Alcazar, coming up.” He entered a series of instructions into the large module to the left of the device, and a wave of electricity rushed over her skin as the d-gate shimmered to life. “Will you be needing a return trip as well?”
“Honestly, I might. Shut it down once I’m out the other side, and I’ll send you a message if or when I need a pickup.”
“As you wish.” The officer studied the readout for a second. “You’re good to traverse.”
“Thank you.” She squared her shoulders and stepped through the d-gate.
TOKI’TAKU
Alcazar
The deadly end of four Taiyok rifles greeted Nika on her arrival in the Alcazar main chamber. She raised both hands in surrender, though she didn’t drop the bag, as the tickling energy of the d-gate faded away and the wormhole behind her closed. “Please lower your weapons. You know me as Asterion Dominion Advisor Nika Kirumase. I need to speak to the Elder right away.”
Behind the armed guards, Taiyoks rushed in every direction. The scene was teeming with activity, but it wasn’t as panicked or chaotic as she’d expected. Did the Taiyoks never lose their cool? Even the guard who seemed to be in charge studied her wearing a hooded expression; his feathers hadn’t so much as fluttered once. “The Elder is occupied with the invasion resistance.”
At least they called it what it was. “I realize he is. This is why it is vitally important that I speak to him immediately.”
The guard dipped his head toward her left hand. “What’s in the bag?”
“A way to save your people and your planet.”
“Put it on the floor and step away.”
She choked off an impatient groan as she complied with the order. She’d been traveling to Toki’taku and meeting with Taiyok leaders for thirteen thousand years, and now she had no time!
The guard kept one reflective eye on her as he crouched in front of the bag, opened it and peered inside. “This looks like a weapon.”
“Yes, a weapon that can stop the Rasu cold. Please.”
He stood and glared at her for a moment—then he blinked, and his demeanor shifted. “The Elder says he will see you. I will maintain possession of the bag and its contents while I accompany you inside.”
“That’s fine, so long as the bag accompanies us both. Thank you.”
The other three rifles finally lowered. The head guard closed up the bag and draped it over his shoulder, then used the rifle to motion her forward. “This way.”
He led her through a discreet door in the back of what she had always thought of as the main chamber. It opened up into a space she’d never seen before—or not one she remembered visiting.
The architecture was classic Taiyok, all wood and stone and subtlety. But in a striking departure from most facilities, the tech at work was on full display here. Conductive metal frames powered an array of giant screens; several displayed the battle underway above the planet, and others tracked the movements of Rasu vessels encroaching upon the surface. Officers dressed in full military regalia worked at three-paneled, arcing stations attached to stacks of quantum servers.
The Elder stood near the center of the room, deep in discussion with two officers while war chatter scrolled frenetically on a screen beside him. Perhaps sensing their arrival, he made a cutting motion with one hand and spun toward them.
“Advisor Kirumase. You bring news of import, I hope?”
“Your world is burning—but you already know this. I bring a weapon you can use to not only keep Rasu ships from landing on Toki’taku soil, but to permanently remove them from your skies altogether.”
The Elder’s wings twitched, but he held them rigidly high. “Advisor, you have our deepest appreciation for all you’ve done to aid us, including for your ships fighting to protect us as we speak. But we have discussed this matter before, and at its root, my position has not changed. We will survive or fall by our own devices.”
“I respect your position, and my scientists have striven to comply with your wishes as closely as possible. If I may retrieve something from my bag, I can demonstrate for you.”
The officer who had accompanied her made a grumbling noise. “Elder, her bag contains what I believe to be a weapon. I recommend caution.”
“It’s all right, Lieutenant. I don’t believe the Advisor has traveled all this way to assassinate me.”
“I assure you, I mean no one in the Alcazar any harm. The opposite, in fact.”
The Elder nodded, and she knelt in front of the bag. Tucked inside at one end was a much smaller compartment, and she opened it up. As her hand wrapped around one of the small objects it held, she activated the recessed button in the shell.
She stood and extended her hand, palm open, in the direction of the Elder.
“I do not have time for trickery or amusement, Advisor.”
“Can you not see through your own stealth technology, Elder?”
His copper eyes flickered brightly. “You have made your point. Now show me.”
“Of course.” Her thumb pressed the button again, and a tiny orb two centimeters in diameter materialized in her palm. It was encased in a mesh shell, which included retractable fins, a microscopic power source and enough drone code to guide the orb to its selected destination.
“We call it a Rima Grenade. When fired from a launcher, it will draw any object it impacts, up to three kilometers in length and breadth, into a type of singularity, then eject the object directly into your sun’s corona.”
The Elder’s gaze was riveted on the orb resting in her palm. “If true, this is a most impressive weapon. But it sounds similar to the Rift Bubbles. This is Katasketousya technology.”
“It originates from the engineering that drives the Rift Bubbles, yes. But we have stripped the engineering down, all the way to its base operating code, and used it to build something new. Something I’m proud to call an Asterion invention. Then we wrapped it in Taiyok stealth technology.” She toggled the button, and the orb vanished. “The enemy will never see it coming. And what they can’t see, they can’t destroy.”
The Elder stared at her seemingly empty palm, coming closer to peer at it from various angles. “The concealment is effective enough that I concede it must be of our own design.” His gaze rose to meet hers. “Nonetheless, you are, as one says, splitting some very fine feathers indeed here.”
She held his piercing, recondite stare; if she flinched now, all was lost. “On the contrary, Elder, I am presenting you with a solution that allows you to uphold malu’oel—” his narrow chin flinched in surprise at the native word rolling off her tongue “—while still defending your people and your world. Please, Elder, in the spirit of our long and fruitful alliance, accept this gift.”
His attention finally diverted to the open bag beside her. “Show me how it works.”
Nika gasped in horror when they stepped onto the platform outside the main chamber. The Sukasu Gate had deposited her direc
tly inside, so she hadn’t gotten a look at the surrounding area until now.
The sky glowed the same copper as the Elder’s eyes. In the distance to the east, a torrent of flames wrent the forest apart, sending embers shooting into the sky like fireflies. High above the conflagration, wide, violet beams streaked out from the bellies of two cruiser-sized Rasu vessels to expand the reach of the flames by what appeared to be dozens of meters every second. Hundreds of Taiyok fighters buzzed around the Rasu, shooting and being shot at in return but doing little to slow down the destruction.
“Elder, don’t you need to evacuate the Alcazar?”
“Not until there is no other option. Show me.”
She retrieved the specially designed launcher from the bag, slotted three of the Rima Grenades into the chamber and started to lift it up onto her shoulder—then held it out to the Elder instead. “Would you like to do the honors, sir? Perhaps you will feel more comfortable with the technology if you operate it yourself.”
“I am not a soldier…but I can aim a reticle.” He accepted the launcher from her, then passed it from one hand to the other, as if evaluating the heft of it.
“Simply brace it on your shoulder, and the guidance reticle will pop out. Use it to lock onto the desired target, then press the trigger. Everything else will take care of itself.”
He did as instructed, adjusting it once before settling into peering at the pop-out screen. “What is the range?”
“Up to one hundred kilometers—and we don’t recommend targeting anything closer than five kilometers to you or vital structures.”
“That is acceptable.” Without fanfare, his finger lightly pressed the trigger.
Other than a slight air compression sound, it looked as if nothing happened. The Elder lowered the launcher and let it dangle from his hand, his eyes locked on the burning horizon.
Abruptly the air around the closer of the two Rasu cruisers flared in a starburst of light for an instant. Then the light and the cruiser were simply…gone.
Echo Rift Page 35