“We need to find anything that can help us,” she said. “Wait… Reeve’s here. She has something to tell me. I’ll return shortly.”
Tarlen pressed against the wall beside the door, surveying the room. He tried to tell himself there wasn’t a dead woman lying under a heap of fresh laundry across the floor.
____________
Reeve saw Treena’s eyes flutter, and she knew she had the commander’s attention. “Treena, it’s me, Reeve.”
“Reeve.” Treena’s voice carried through the speakers at the top of her bed.
Reeve was just glad the woman’s medical equipment was self-sustaining, when most of the ship seemed dead. That gave her hope there was another backup system at play. Life support was going to run out in less than fifty minutes.
“Where are the glasses?” Reeve asked, scanning the room for them.
“They’re on Tarlen,” Treena said.
“Tarlen? Where is he? Do you have any idea what’s happening here?” Reeve asked the commander.
“Not really. Tarlen took the glasses a day or two ago. It’s becoming a blur. He showed me Basel’s ship, and we got stuck on it. Zare must have reprogrammed it.”
“Wait… Basel’s ship… Zare?” Reeve was growing more confused by the second.
“That’s right. We hid in a locker, and we’re on Andron now,” Treena said.
“You’re on Andron?” Reeve glanced over Treena’s body, which was directly in front of her.
“Tarlen is. I’m with the glasses,” she explained.
Reeve finally understood and smiled to herself. “Good. That’s good. Treena, we’re in a dangerous situation. The captain was taken to Andron.”
“Baldwin’s here?” she asked.
“Yes. They used a Terontiun device to drain our ship of power,” Reeve said.
“What? It would take a technology we’ve never encountered to kill Constantine that effortlessly.”
“It was. I’ve disabled it, but it’s too late. Did Con ever tell you about a backup system for the cruise ship?” Reeve crossed her fingers, hoping against all doubt that Treena held the knowledge.
“No. I’m sorry. Why wouldn’t he have told you?” Treena asked.
“He did, but only mentioned it in passing. We don’t have long before people begin dropping over here, and without talking to Constantine, I can’t help them,” Reeve said.
“Baldwin won’t let that happen.” Treena’s voice wavered, betraying the confidence she spoke with.
“He may not have a choice. Treena, I have no idea what to do,” Reeve admitted.
“Wait. You said you need to speak to Constantine, right?” the voice asked through the speakers.
“That’s right, but Cleo’s the only way, and she’s with Brax inside the Belt.” Reeve rubbed her sweating palms on her pants, anxious for something, but not sure how to help the crew.
“Cleo. That’s it. I’ll help Tarlen send a message to Cleo. Then we can relay between you two,” Treena said with a lightness unlike before.
“You think it’ll work?” Reeve asked.
“It’ll have to.”
“Good. I’ll stay here. Be quick. We don’t have much time.”
“We’ll be as fast as we can. And I’ll try to keep Tarlen safe,” Treena said.
Reeve smiled, happy to have a plan. If anything, it would distract her for the next while. “We can do this. If we have a backup system initiated, we’ll be able to defend ourselves.”
“Give us a chance to find the captain and help him escape before you go blowing everyone up, would you?” Treena asked.
Reeve grew somber again. “If we can.”
Treena’s eyelids flitted and closed.
Reeve sat in the chair beside her bed and waited.
____________
“There is another option,” Lark told him.
Tom lifted an eyebrow. “You let me go, hand over the stolen property, and turn yourself in?”
Lark Keen laughed at this. “You always were pragmatic, weren’t you? Even when you’re doing the bidding of an evil organization, you’re exceedingly judgmental. You think you’re doing the right thing, and that’s what makes it all the more complicated.”
“Life is a matter of perspective. See, to me, you’re the insane megalomaniac who’s brainwashed good people with bad concepts. You are what’s wrong with the Concord, and until you see that, we’ll be at odds,” Tom said, fully aware this kind of arguing wasn’t going to help his cause.
“Remember that it was your grandfather who lied. They let a Statu warship leave unscathed, Tom. Can you believe that?” Lark leaned in, frowning.
“Sure I can, because I was defending the Concord a few months ago, and I left a few of them behind as well. It was the only way to survive,” Tom said flatly.
“You’re weak, just like him. I always thought you had the mettle to rise above his shadow; instead, you’ve become part of it.” Lark rose, motioning for Tom to do the same. “Come. I have something to show you.”
“I’d rather not.”
Keen pulled an old PL-25 from inside his desk and used the barrel to urge Tom from his seat. “It’s clear to me why you can’t see the big picture. Once we have Constantine, we’ll have real power. We can return and set things straight.”
“And how are you going to do that?” Tom asked.
“You remember there’s a coronation in a few days, right?”
“Sure.”
“And this Harris is going to be crowned Prime. It’s unacceptable. He’s a tool.”
It was Tom’s turn to laugh. “Harris isn’t being named anything. He’s currently on my ship glowering.”
Lark appeared shocked. “What do you mean?”
“Guess your intel’s dated, like your ships.” Tom couldn’t help but throw the jab.
“What happened?” Lark asked, walking behind Tom as they moved toward the bridge.
A full crew sat in position, and Tom’s spine tingled at the sight. What the old man would have thought of this, his ship being used for the Assembly? Tom guessed he was spinning around the Vastness in outrage.
Zare peered over her shoulder at Tom, quickly averting her eyes. Tom’s blood boiled at the sight of the traitor. “Harris wasn’t the right fit. The new Prime is likely already on their way to Nolix.”
“It doesn’t matter. We’ll be heading there soon, and it will be a human taking charge after all,” Lark said, staring out the viewer.
“Is that so? What, you’re going to go in and take the Prime’s seat and expect any of the Founders to be okay with that?” Tom asked him.
“They won’t have a choice,” Lark said.
“The Ugna have joined the Concord. Their fleet won’t let you waltz in with Constantine and take over,” Tom said.
“Did you not see what we did to their vessel out here? While you’ve all been in fighting and training to fend off alien pirates along the Border, we’ve been working on real technology,” his adversary told him.
“So you’re trading stolen goods to outsiders for their weapons. Sounds like a terrorist to me,” Tom said, and it was clear he was pressing all the right buttons on the man, or maybe the wrong ones. Tom still had his crew to think about. He needed to bite his tongue, but was finding it difficult.
“Your opinion is irrelevant.”
“What happens to my crew?” Tom asked.
Lark Keen nodded to Zare, and a numerical sequence appeared on Andron’s viewer. It was counting down from thirty minutes. “That’s about how long they have before the life support kicks out. How long do you think before they’re writhing on the floor?”
Tom clenched his fists, staring at the dark ship in the distance. There had to be something he could do. He had a great team, but he didn’t think they’d be able to rescue themselves from this bind. “What do I have to do?”
____________
Shengin watched as the stars stretched through the viewer. He enjoyed being on the cruise ship. This one wasn’t quite
as nice as Constantine, which he’d visited briefly inside Basel, then Ginn, before heading to Leria’s surface.
Now he was drifting in space, moving for the Concord’s home world. Nolix. He had no memories of being there beforehand, except for the brief ones trapped inside the deep recesses of Shengin’s and Ginn’s minds. Their knowledge and experiences were fading, but he retained enough to know it was going to be an immense change from living inside a cave for centuries, maybe thousands of years. He had no concept of how much time had truly passed, and it almost felt freeing.
Olivon was a great cruise ship, well decorated, and the captain was a reserved Tekol who refrained from speaking. Shengin was thankful for that. It allowed him to sit in silence on the bridge as they raced in hyperlight toward Nolix and the coronation ceremony that would see him turned into the Prime.
How his life had changed over the last couple of weeks. It was an incredible turn of events that Shengin could never have seen coming.
“Are you prepared?” a voice asked, and he peered toward the bridge’s exit to see Admiral Benitor there. She’d been a constant pain in his side since meeting, and she was adamant about telling him what to do. He understood the admirals were in shambles, like most of the Concord, but she was trying, and he saw the value in that. It was obvious she loved her people and wanted nothing but stability and safety for them. Little did she know that was the last thing Shengin cared about.
“I think so. Perhaps we can go through the steps again,” he said, placating her.
“Very well. When would be a good time?” she asked.
“How about in two hours?” he suggested.
“I’ll meet you in the usual spot,” she told him, which meant the dining hall. It was a quiet ship, and she preferred being among the people. She said it made him approachable. She was constantly coaching him, telling him to be friendly to everyone on their escort, because those were the same people that would tell all their acquaintances about their interactions with the new Prime. If he set a good example, word would spread that he was a kind man, and a solid choice to lead the Concord out of this tumultuous time.
Shengin had listened, not taking any of it to heart. He was still undecided on how far he was going to play along with this ruse. Surely he couldn’t stay in this body forever. But he could for a few years; perhaps longer, if he went dormant for extended periods. That might prove a difficult task for the Prime.
Still, he did treat the crew with favor, being polite and thanking them for each minor task they performed, as if he was training a Booli. Admiral Benitor left, and Shengin waited five minutes before excusing himself from the bridge.
He had his own task in mind, one he’d been dreading but was also excited for. He nodded to the captain and commander and exited, taking the elevator to the deck below. Shengin strode through the corridors, smiling affably at anyone he passed.
He stopped at his suite, wondering if he really wanted to uncover what had happened to them. Clearly, they’d never made it this far; otherwise, someone like the admiral would have recalled his race’s name when he’d casually mentioned it to her. His door opened, and he stared toward the console on the desktop. This was it. Time to face the facts.
Shengin sat, his left eye twitching as his fingers found the keypad. He accessed the search feature and typed in his race name, Radhas.
Zero results.
He winced, using the planet’s name: Naivich.
One result.
He clicked it, scanning over the quick article. His gaze settled on key phrases like supernova and ice world. Shengin shuddered and closed the material.
How long had he been gone? Where was his nerve? If their star was going nova, they would have had ample opportunity to evacuate. He reactivated the screen and returned to typing, determined to learn the truth.
____________
“What is it?” Tarlen asked. Treena’s voice had vanished; all signs that she was with him were gone. He stood impatiently while he waited, trying not to let his gaze drift to the dead body hiding in the laundry room with him. His gun suddenly felt heavy, and he switched hands, holding it with his left.
“Tarlen!” Her voice was loud in his ear, and he nearly dropped the gun.
“What? Can you keep it down?” he quipped back.
“Sorry. We have to move.”
“What happened?”
“Reeve said Constantine is dead. They’re running out of life support. No engines, no shields. They’re in serious danger,” she told him.
His heart raced. His sister was on Constantine, as well as most everyone he cared about in the universe, with the exception of Penter.
“What can we do?” His voice was steady again.
“We have to send Cleo a message. If we can reach Brax, we can relay communication between Reeve and Constantine’s AI,” Treena said.
“What good will that do?” he asked.
“She thinks he’ll provide information that can save the ship. It’s worth a try.”
Tarlen nodded. “Fine, we can do that. Which way?” he asked.
She paused, and he imagined her running through the blueprints stored in her computer system on the ship. “I can’t access anything. My medical devices are operational, but the network is off. I’ll have to go by memory.”
Tarlen didn’t like the sounds of that, but kept his worry internalized.
“Return the way you came and head to Deck Five. There should be residences there. With any luck, we can avoid everyone and sneak into a room, using their private channels. Those are kept on file, but not actively watched for privacy reasons. I bet they’re operating on skeleton crews, so we’ll find most of the rooms vacant at a time like this,” Treena said.
Tarlen was glad she was along for the ride, because he wouldn’t have known any of those details. “How much time do we have?”
“Not enough,” she replied, and he understood.
He walked into the corridor quietly and raced through the hall, using the stairs again. He went slower there, keeping to the inside bannister while he climbed the steps. He stopped before each floor, listening for the sounds of doors opening or footsteps.
“Not many use the stairwells. They’re more for emergencies than anything,” Treena said, but he still took his time on them, not wanting to come face-to-face with a gun.
Soon his forehead was sweating, and the glasses began to slide down his nose. He pressed them up as he made it to Deck Five, the number painted beside the door. This was it. If there was anyone on the other side of the door, this could be over with.
It slid open at his touch, the sound too loud in the otherwise silent space, and Tarlen peered through it, looking in both directions. The halls were empty.
“Go right,” Treena advised. He obeyed, moving quickly. “Try any of these doors. If you find anyone on the other side…”
“I’ll do what I have to.” He gripped the gun tightly, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it.
He stopped at the first one and nervously tapped it open. He didn’t see anything, and the room was dark, only the soft glow from a console screen lighting the suite.
“Oh no,” Treena said in his ear.
“What?” he whispered.
“This room is too big. I think you chose the captain’s quarters,” she said.
“Great.” He walked forward, hitting his shin on a chair. “Where’s the communicator?”
“Should be at the desk. Over there, past the bed.” Treena’s voice was a comfort in this terrible time. Tarlen was sure he would have frozen long ago if she wasn’t watching through the glasses and advising him along the way.
He moved past another closed door inside the suite and sat at the desk, flicking on the console. The screen was bright against his face, and he squinted while his eyes acclimated.
“Okay, Tarlen, you need to send a message to this location…” Treena rattled off a long string of numbers, and Tarlen keyed them in, repeating them before she told him it was right.
&nbs
p; “What do I say?” he asked.
“Just tell them what I told you,” she said.
Tarlen cleared his throat and spoke. “Cleo, come in. It’s Tarlen. I’m aboard Andron. Constantine is in danger. Their life support is going to expire, and Reeve said the Assembly has used some device to drain our ship of power. She needs to speak with Constantine’s AI.”
When no reply came through, he leaned forward.
“They’ll hear it eventually,” Treena said.
“What do we do until then?” Tarlen asked.
“We wait,” Treena said.
The interior door slid open, a light glow casting a shadow across the floor. Tarlen rose, his hands lifting with the gun aimed at the invader.
“Who are you?” the little girl asked. She was four, maybe five, her long blonde hair pulled into ponytail.
Tarlen left the gun aimed at her for a moment too long, but lowered it. “I’m a friend,” he said.
“This isn’t good,” Treena said through his earpiece.
“Thanks for the tip,” he said to her.
“What tip?” the girl across the room asked.
“Never mind. What’s your name?” Tarlen asked, slowly stepping toward her.
“I’m Luci.” She was holding a toy.
“Find out who she belongs to,” Treena urged.
“Luci, I’m Tarlen. Whose room is this? Is it yours?” he asked.
“It’s Mommy’s and Daddy’s, and my room,” she said.
“Where’s your mommy?” Tarlen asked.
“I think she’s with Daddy,” she said.
“What does your daddy do on this ship?”
“He’s the captain, silly.”
Tarlen was in the captain’s suite. He wanted to rush out of there, but Treena’s voice grounded him. “We can use this. Use her.”
“A hostage?” he asked, the idea sending a knot in his stomach.
“It might be our only play,” she told him.
“I don’t like it,” he said.
“Neither do I.”
Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Page 52