They didn’t listen.
Eve leaned toward him. “I’m not helpless.” She said it with conviction, and he nodded.
“Maybe not.”
The station appeared closer than it was, because of its massive size. The Vusuls didn’t do anything small. The shuttle was nothing but a paltry speck against the dark gray hull of the station as it entered the middle section, where a docking pad circled inside a crackling energy field. The hair on Gotran’s neck stood up as they entered, and Eve clutched his hand at the odd sensation.
“You’ll be okay.”
And just like that, they were ushered from the ship, landing on a stark white parking pad that acted as a ring around the station. It was about fifty yards wide, and the guard brought them to the inside edge, and through a doorway.
The feeling changed the second they emerged from the docking corridor and stepped into a central room. The ceilings were high, and everything was lit by artificial orange light. There were aliens of all kinds here, most of them unfamiliar to him.
Eve still held his hand, squeezing it in fear as they were led past grunting and cawing beings. Gotran bumped into someone, and the hard-shelled alien chittered at him angrily. He raised his hands in surrender, trying to tell the thing it had been an accident.
The middle of the station had a clear tube with an elevator, and that was where they headed. Once inside, Gotran stood between the girl and the bulky guard. His gun was absent from his grip, and that meant he was no longer deemed a threat. That was a good sign.
The trip seemed to take forever, and Eve and he stared through the glass tube as they passed floor after floor, seeing so many aliens and people that he lost track of all his sense of the situation. His mind reeled at the discovering of this station. He’d been expecting a quiet area with nothing but Vusuls, but it was clear they had a lot of contacts and allies from outside the Concord gathered here. Not one of them looked like any of the Concord partners, at least not from a quick glance.
The elevator finally stopped, and the guard shoved him forward. “Out.”
This level was much more compact, and the air filled with a strange electrical current. The older leader he’d spoken to on the colony ship was here, watching through a viewscreen at the far end of the room. Gotran brought Eve with him to the stooped Vusuls’ side, seeing what he was gaping at.
“What is this place?” Gotran asked.
“This is our marketplace, but more importantly, our way in,” the Vusuls said. His thick body turned, and he gave Gotran an ugly smile, his plate teeth clomping shut.
Eve watched the screen and tugged at Gotran’s shirt. “Where are they going?”
The gigantic colony ship began departing, the blue thrusters glowing hotly as they left. Others followed, so much lesser in scale beside the behemoth that it took a moment to even notice them. Gotran counted around twenty other vessels tagging along.
The Vusuls looked at Eve as he spoke. “They go to claim our home.”
Sixteen
Treena hadn’t reverted to her body for a while, not since she’d gone on the mission with Tarlen, speaking to him through the eyeglasses’ earpiece. When they’d returned with the Assembly prisoners in their care, she’d been given the new model from R-emergence.
The idea of entering her real form scared her, but not as much as it once had. She was stronger than she’d ever thought, and if there was one thing Treena Starling could do, it was sacrificing her own comfort for the crew around her.
Her quarters were quiet, and she sat on the bed. She programmed the android to shut down and reset in five minutes. She hoped that was enough time to leave a message for the captain. After everything they’d gone through, Reeve had created a way for her to “drop in” and relay information on her bedside computer. She should have done this much sooner, but they kept hoping their communications would eventually break through. Now it didn’t seem like that was an option.
The timer counted down from ten, and she took an unnecessary deep breath and lay back so the body didn’t drop onto the floor when no one was controlling it. Three. Two. One.
She was gone, inside the real Treena Starling aboard Constantine. Something was different. She nearly panicked at the changes. Her eyes sprang open, and a low groan emerged from her throat. She could move her eyes around, seeing the computer screen beside her with blurry vision. Was it clearer than before?
A tear fell from her eye as the straps under her adjusted her legs and arms, keeping them from atrophying. Her toes tingled.
She tried to look at them but couldn’t lift her head. She didn’t understand. Her fingers twitched, and she felt something from them too. Treena moved her fingers, and for a moment, she didn’t realize what she was doing. It was difficult going from a fully functional body to one that couldn’t do anything, but… this was new. She could move!
Another growl crawled from her throat, and she found she was able to open her lips slightly. They were dry, the applied lubricant wearing off. Her tongue moved inside and felt cracked as it pressed to the sides of her teeth. She was getting better. This should have been impossible.
More tears began to form, and for a second, she didn’t think about returning to her android body, but the realization hit her that she only had five minutes before she left, and she’d probably just used three of them. She thought of the message, activating the computer screen, and sent it to Tom’s personal line.
The doors opened, and someone entered the room. She could only see the outline, but it might have been a woman. The colors weren’t those of a Concord uniform, and Treena felt a shot of fear race into her gut.
“What in the Vastness have we done?” a woman’s voice asked.
Treena tried to speak, but she could only croak out a cough.
“There, there. We’re going to make this right,” she said, and Treena saw a hand coming toward her as her vision blacked out. She opened her eyes, and she was back on Shu, in her android form.
Her arm reached out to block the incoming palm, but there was no resistance. She sat up in a hurry, gasping for breath she didn’t really need. What was that? Her body, it had been different. She could see more, move her fingers, and feel her toes. Was she truly healing?
Treena tried to think who that might have been. Was it Kelli? The voice didn’t line up. She wondered if she was in danger, but couldn’t think who’d have access to her room that would want to harm her.
This couldn’t wait. She had to know, not that she could do anything to prevent them from hurting her if that was their intention. Treena remained seated and tried to return to Constantine, but it failed. She tried again, going through the same mental menus. Nothing. Someone appeared to have dismantled the option from the other side.
____________
“Captain, the jump probes are transmitting images,” Brax said, showing the feeds on the viewscreen.
Tom stared at the shots of a tall, thin space station above a planet. “This is in the Govis system?”
Brax nodded. “That’s right. This is where the coordinates from the Vusuls led us to.”
“Where’s the ship? The one from the Minon attack?” Tom asked, confident there was no place for the giant vessel to hide here.
“There’s no indication of a fleet at the station. I think I’m reading a spacecraft or two in the central docking station, but they’re nothing but shuttles. The colony vessel is gone,” Brax told him.
“Damn it. We can’t tell if the girl is here or where Shu is.” Tom hated this. The station was strange: huge metal rods jutted from the top and bottom, and the air almost shimmered at both ends.
“Captain, this is the root of the disturbance,” Ven advised.
“Say again?”
“The communication errors. It only makes sense that the disturbance has been emanating from this station. I’ve attempted to send a message to the probes to test the theory, and whatever waves the Vusuls are creating from the antennae are affecting the transmission. They clearly h
ave the ability to target regions of Concord space, even from here,” Ven said.
“How is that possible?” Tom asked. He wasn’t much for the technical stuff; that was why he had people like Reeve and Harry on the crew.
“I don’t know,” Ven said.
“Get me Harry.”
Ven tapped the screen, and Tom heard Reeve’s second-in-command. “Go for Harry.”
“Harry, check the details Ven just sent your way.” Tom stood quietly, waiting for the engineering officer to comb the details.
“This is interesting, Captain.”
“Any idea how this is working?” Tom asked Harry.
“I can’t explain it, but I assume they’ve placed remote routers around the Border. To make an outage as widespread as the Concord, I’d expect there to be at least ten or so satellite stations outside our space,” Harry said.
“See if you can determine how this works. I don’t want any surprises,” Tom told him.
“Yes, sir.” The call ended, and Tom continued to watch the feeds. “How long out at full speed?” he asked Ven.
“Half a day, Captain,” Ven said.
“Stay vigilant. I’ll be in my quarters for the next few hours.” Tom hadn’t been sleeping well in anticipation of the exchange. He needed to speak with Bouchard on Shu and with Starling, urgently.
He’d been able to think of little since his trip to her room the other day, and couldn’t wait to learn what it all meant. Kelli arrived after his call and had informed him Treena was beginning to show signs of recovery, which should have been impossible. She planned to increase the rehabilitation that had been paused in the early days of Treena’s recovery, and he’d encouraged her to prioritize the treatment.
He found his quarters, after walking past Treena’s and fighting the urge to enter the room. He was too tired to think right now. His place was silent, and he went to his kitchen, pouring himself a drink. It was smooth as he sipped it, and he brought the tumbler to his desk, seeing a private message blinking on his console. He activated it and nearly spilled his glass as he saw who the sender was. Treena Starling, from her bed.
Captain, we’re a day from the rendezvous. There was a series of coordinates, and he copied the link before reading on. We have Lark Keen in holding, and can only hope for a fair and reasonable exchange. I don’t trust the Vusuls and fear we’re stepping into a trap. I… something’s different about my body. Please respond through my console, and I’ll retrieve the message. This may be our only form of communication for the time being. Stay vigilant. Until we meet in the Vastness.
Tom read it twice and rubbed his chin, feeling a day’s growth of stubble.
His door chimed, indicating a visitor. Part of him wanted to ignore it, to turn off the lights and find sleep, but he was too worked up anyway.
“Enter,” he said, and the door slid wide, revealing Aimie Gaad. Her face was pale, and she looked like she’d been crying. “What is it?” he asked.
“I have to admit something to you,” she said.
“Don’t tell me you’re married.” Tom motioned for her to have a seat across his desk, and he rose, moving to the kitchen where he poured her a drink, refilling his glass.
She smiled, the expression forced, and accepted the beverage from his outstretched hand. “No. Nothing like that. It’s… R-emergence related.”
Tom sat, crossing his leg over his other knee. “It obviously has you upset. I’m here to listen.”
She took a sip and tilted her head back, emptying the glass. Aimie set it on the desk and stared blankly at him. Her resolve was firm; gone was the fearful, anxious woman. She was replaced by a hardened doctor and business leader. “R-emergence has been working on android avatars for a long time, decades, and we were close to gaining the approval to test the models. Prime Pha’n agreed to our terms, but when the admirals voted on it, the motion was denied.”
Tom listened with a sinking feeling coursing through his stomach. He stayed silent, letting her continue.
“We wanted to help those in need. You’d be surprised by how many people around the Concord are unable to move around freely. We had the ability to create avatars in their own likeness, even different versions of themselves, so they could once again be members of society, not recluses or shut-ins.
“Decades of research and dedication went to the project, and in the span of one vote, it was all gone, washed away. We had no choice,” she said.
Tom swallowed hard. “What did you do?”
“I admit that I fought it at the start, but it was beyond me. I have people to answer to, Tom.”
“What happened?” Tom clenched his jaw, his teeth grating together.
“Treena was a unique case. A hero, really. She was the sole survivor of an attack on a Concord cruise ship. The Prime wanted everything done to save her life, so we were brought in. I wasn’t on the team and don’t have firsthand accounts, but I do fear her healing and rehabilitation were paused in order to retrofit her with the very first fully-functional avatar in a person’s likeness.”
Tom sat motionless. He could hardly believe his ears, but he wasn’t surprised in the least. “You played with her life to get a hero behind the project. You sacrificed Treena Starling to benefit R-emergence.”
She looked horrified, but Tom struggled to feel sorry for Aimie. “Tom, it wasn’t me. I objected at every meeting, but…”
“I’m glad you objected, but in the meantime, my friend lies in a bed with a computer keeping her alive so you could obtain your proof of concept. Does that sum it up?” Tom spoke with caution, not wanting to let his true fury show.
She didn’t answer, only nodded slowly. “I’m sorry. But we can still help her. I had to visit her, Tom.”
He rose quickly, his knee banging against the desk leg. “You saw her? You went into her room without permission?”
“I only wanted to see if I could help. I cleaned her mouth, wet her lips, and I have the resources aboard my ship to help her recovery. If she agrees,” Aimie said.
Tom considered her words. “Why wouldn’t she?”
“Tom, she’s in the best body anyone could imagine. She doesn’t need to sleep, eat, or breathe. She’s the perfect specimen,” Aimie said.
“It has no beating heart, and she keeps herself an arm’s distance from anyone, because she’s scared of how they’d accept her. There’s a reason this is illegal, and I’m going to put a stop to it as soon as we return. And as far as Treena’s recovery, she’ll have to make the decision, but I want you to return to your luxury liner and proceed with anything that will expedite her recuperation. Understood?” he barked, slamming a palm onto the desk, and she flinched before rushing for the exit.
She stopped at the door, fresh tears in her eyes. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
He didn’t reply, and a second later, the door closed on her.
____________
While they were waiting for Bouchard’s decision on their next step, Reeve and Hans combined all their energy into the Nek drive. It looked incredible mounted into the Concord shuttle. Compared to the one she’d seen from the original Vralon design, this was far more advanced, less choppy and rough, almost as if it was a quality and reliable mode of transportation. The true test was whether it actually worked or not.
“The tests are demonstrating it’s operational,” Hans said from twenty yards away at a glowing screen.
Kan Shu stood with Reeve, and he moved as a drone tightened a loose bolt on the heat ducts. Kan grinned, and Reeve had never seen the stoic Callalay commander so at ease. He wasn’t even in uniform, opting for the blue jumpsuit that they each wore during the final construction of the engine. They’d gone from two thousand tiny components to this in the span of a few days, mostly due to the programmed drones and robotic manufacturing arms.
“It’ll work,” Kan told her with a self-assured nod, but Reeve wasn’t as confident.
“It’s safe to say there’s a big difference between projections and reality, ri
ght?” she asked.
“The only way it doesn’t work is if one of those robots screwed something on backwards,” Hans told her.
She ran a finger over the engine’s metal exterior, smiling at Shu’s chief engineer. “It could happen.” But the truth was, she’d gone over the instructional programming ten times.
“I think it’s time to test her,” Kan said.
“Now?” Reeve was a little surprised by their hurry.
“We’re not doing anything else.” Hans crossed the short distance, hands on hips as he admired the vessel.
“I hope you’re not planning on piloting it yourself,” Reeve joked.
“Of course not. That’s what Bob is for,” Hans said, walking toward a locker along the hangar’s wall. He opened it, and Reeve saw the powered-off android inside. With the press of a button, the android whirred to life, stepping from his shelter. It was shaped like them but lacked eyes or a mouth. It was easier sending a faceless object into danger, and it didn’t need to speak.
“Bob. Original name,” Reeve said, opening the shuttle’s side entrance.
Hans used a clear tablet to control the robot, and it climbed into the ship, parking itself at the pilot’s seat. Reeve entered after it, plugging the bot into the console. Instantly, she saw the relay of information onto Hans’ tablet. “We’ll be able to communicate directly through this,” Hans told them.
“I still think we should go over the plan once more. What if we missed something?” Reeve asked.
“Then we wasted a few weeks, and we’ll try again. I’m getting old, Reeve, and if there’s one thing that’s left me besides my hair, it’s patience.” Hans and Reeve examined the instructions, programming the details carefully into Bob’s system, and ten minutes later, they were pleased with the results. Reeve led the older engineer from their newly-created Nek drive shuttle and stood beside Kan as the door closed.
The engines rumbled to life, shaking the hangar floor gently. A short time later, the shuttle rose, the landing gear retracting into the underside. The shield around the entire ship glowed momentarily before going invisible. The sheer amount of energy needed to utilize the compound into a jump was astronomical, so there was also a shield inside, blocking the drive from the shuttle’s occupants. Reeve was sure the robot pilot would appreciate not being incinerated the moment the jump occurred.
Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Page 102