Confluence

by S. K. Dunstall

  “How do you fail line certification?”

  “You pretend you’re trying, but you’re not doing anything really.”

  Level ones were rare. How many others had done the same thing? “And you didn’t want to be a doctor anymore?”

  “I wanted to die.”

  So he’d become a soldier. What was that old joke they used to tell when she was in training? Join the fleet; see the galaxy; shoot people. Or have them shoot you. Which explained the comment on Chaudry’s psych profile that he wasn’t fit for war duty.

  “But they put me in Stores.”

  Radko smiled at the plaintive tone. “At least we have decent psych people at headquarters.” She turned back to look at the stars, in the direction of the Haladean cluster. It wasn’t bright enough to see, but she knew it was there. “Have you seen your family since?”

  “I pretended I was away on training last time they came to Baoshan.”

  “Because you failed them?”

  “You probably think it’s silly.”

  “I failed my parents, too.” Would she ever see them again? Did she care if she didn’t, except as guilt if Yu did something in revenge? Thank the lines Jai the Younger and Hua were close as siblings. Surely their mother, Dowager Empress Jai the Elder, could be relied on to save her youngest daughter if need be. Radko hoped someone like Vega had apprised Jai of the possibility. “My ship is my family.”

  “And you lost that when you came to us.”

  She hadn’t thought about Sattur Dow and Yu until now. “Probably.” Vega wouldn’t be able to fix it. She banged her fist on the railing hard enough to hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” Chaudry said quietly.

  One man shouldn’t have that much power. “He destroyed my life.” He was trying to destroy the New Alliance. He was trying to destroy Abram and Michelle. If he did that, he’d destroy Ean, too, and everyone on the Lancastrian Princess.

  If he did that, she would destroy him.

  Radko took a shaky breath. “Sorry, Chaudry. I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

  “Sometimes it helps to talk.”

  Said the man who’d joined the fleet because he wanted to kill himself. “Do you still want to be a doctor?”

  Chaudry stretched. “We should go inside.”

  She laughed and reached out to stop him. “Don’t change the subject, Chaudry. This is important.”

  “Why?”

  “Because a doctor who is also a linesman is a rare find indeed.”

  “Only a one.” It came out bitter.

  “Especially a one, since line one shows the health of the whole ship. A doctor who is a level-one linesman would be perfect.” And very much in demand. Chaudry would have his pick of ships in the Lancian fleet. But he’d go to the Eleven or the Confluence. She knew that already.

  “Line one shows the state of other lines,” Chaudry corrected. “You don’t need a doctor to fix lines. You need a linesman.”

  Radko smiled, grim and satisfied in the dark, and lonely, too, for she missed her ship. She missed her job. She missed her linesman.

  “It shows the state of the whole ship, Chaudry. Human and line. Sure, you need a linesman to fix lines, but as for the rest, that’s only partially right. That’s what the cartel teaches you, and the cartels are wrong.”

  “Wrong?”

  He was a linesman. He couldn’t hide the hope in his voice. Linesmen, especially single-level linesmen, always wanted to believe there was something more.

  Radko smiled again. “No line is superior to any other. We have learned so much about the lines in the last six months. Think about what you want for the future, Chaudry. At the end of this assignment, I’ll ask again. If you want to work with the lines, or in medicine, or both, we’ll do everything in our power to make it happen. We need people like you.”

  She turned and led the way inside.

  NINETEEN

  DOMINIQUE RADKO

  VAN HEEL HACKED into MES’s system, put the security cameras onto a loop, and routed the alarm back to Radko.

  Once that was done, Radko took fifteen seconds to break into the sweet shop.

  They passed through a storeroom with prepared sweets, then the kitchen, and finally a second storeroom containing raw materials. Bags of sugar and nuts, some form of syrup, and other items Radko couldn’t identify. Even better, the wall out here was painted, not plastered, so the outline of each prefab block was clear.

  Radko tamped the explosive down around the blocks. It went off with a soft whumph. They kicked the blocks out.

  The net protecting TwoPaths Engineering wasn’t alarmed, at least not that Radko could see. She pressed the OFF button.

  It whined to a halt. The loudest thing so far.

  Radko indicated to Han and Chaudry to stand on one side of the door, van Heel and herself on the other.

  They waited.

  No one came.

  She broke the lock, and they piled inside.

  They found themselves in a storeroom, with shelving and cupboards around the walls. The packaging was from a mix of worlds. There were boxes from the Worlds of the Lesser Gods, some from Redmond, and even one from Lancia, with HAEMOGLOBIN TESTER on the side.

  Chaudry stopped at a box of tubing in clear plastic bags. “Intravenous sets.” He stopped at another box. Meters of some sort. “These are medical supplies.”

  “We have to find their control center,” Radko said. They could speculate later why an engineering company required medical supplies. Their first job was to neutralize any security in the building before someone called for backup.

  One minute.

  They passed through three more storerooms, one with huge, glass-door refrigerators full of frozen, prepackaged meals.

  “This is starting to get creepy,” Han muttered.

  “Shh.” But Radko agreed. This setup was more like a hospital than an engineering lab.

  Two minutes.

  She heard a sound outside the room they were in and stopped. She motioned for the others to do the same.

  If they stayed here, they were sitting ducks. “Chaudry, find us some cloth to cover our faces.” She beckoned to Han. “Cover me. Blaster on stun. I’ll drop as the door opens. Spray anything higher than me but keep out of the line of fire.”

  How many security people would you have on night duty at a lab? Three, maybe four? It depended how important the lab was.

  Chaudry arrived back, carrying blankets. “It’s all I could find in a hurry.”

  “They’ll be good.” Radko looked at van Heel and Chaudry. “Stay out of the line of fire.”

  She heard muttered information being passed through a comms. Someone knew they were there. If it was security outside—which was a logical assumption—they’d have help on the way. There was no time to waste.

  She dropped to the ground, pressed the button to open the door, dragged a fast-acting gas grenade off her belt, armed it, and rolled it out.

  Something swished above her head and thudded into the wall at the back even as the door closed again.

  At least two people outside the door started coughing and choking.

  “Blankets on.” Radko wrapped one around her own face. “And don’t breathe as you run through the gas.” She checked what had come through the door. A tranquilizer dart.

  “They’re using tranqs, people, so beware.” She opened the door again and fired through the choking smoke. A long sweep around. At least two thuds.

  She kept firing as she exited. Another thud.

  Van Heel tripped over one of the fallen guards. Chaudry grabbed her and kept running.

  One door at the front of the building was open, light streaming out. Logically, it would be the control room. Radko entered at a run, and fired at the sole occupant, who was still rising to pull out his weapon.

 
; “Close the door,” she ordered Chaudry.

  She found the alarm, turned it off. Only then did she allow herself to take a deep breath.

  “What now?” Han asked.

  Radko turned to the wall of screens. “We find the labs.”

  Except there weren’t any labs. There were three operating theatres down here on the ground floor, plus some examining rooms. Upstairs were glass-walled rooms around a central office. Ten of them were occupied and nearly all the occupants wore Sandhurst uniforms. Linesmen.

  “It’s not a lab,” Chaudry said. “It’s a hospital.”

  The patients showed signs of distress. One huddled in a corner, crying. Another lay on her bed, strapped down. Her face was badly scratched, and the tips of her fingers were bandaged. Another kicked the glass of the walls. The glass didn’t break. It bounced, like Plexiglas.

  Linesmen. Line experiments.

  And they expected to have access to a twelve soon. Never.

  In two of the examining rooms, Radko saw alien artifacts. She stepped closer to the screen to be sure. Artifacts that could only have come from one of the alien line ships.

  Someone was supplying Redmond with items from the line ships.

  Someone from the New Alliance.

  Someone with access to alien artifacts would have access to Ean.

  Radko swung around. “Van Heel, find the patient records. Copy them. Everything you can. Han, stay here with van Heel and watch the screens. Chaudry, collect the artifacts from the examining rooms.” She tapped the ones she saw, to show him what she meant. “All of them. If you see something you don’t recognize, especially anything that talks to you, anything that makes a noise, anything that reminds you of space, grab it as well.”

  Chaudry blinked at that but nodded.

  He’d need something to carry them in. Radko looked around for a box, couldn’t find one. “Use your blanket to wrap them in. There’ll be an orderly around somewhere, so be alert.” It was a hospital. They must have someone watching the patients.

  “I’ll check the office upstairs.” If the report was anywhere, it would be there. “Open comms. All of us. Let’s go.”

  She left Chaudry filling his blanket and ran up the stairs.

  Three walls of the office were Plexiglass from waist height and looked out onto the linesmen’s rooms. The back wall was stone; the same heavy stone they’d seen earlier when viewing the palace walls. There was a door in the wall. If Radko had her directions right, the lab led directly into the palace.

  Radko looked around for a safe. There wasn’t one. There were two desks, both with drawers. She tried the drawers.

  The first one held sweets from the shop next door, and something that looked like dried fruit. The second was locked.

  Han said, low and urgent, “Whatever you did stirred up a nest of people. They’re all running for you.”

  Radko pulled her weapon.

  The door to the palace burst open.

  She fired, instinctively. One. Two. Three. Before she knew what was coming, using the desk as shelter. The answering fire hit the desk, and heated it, but the desk remained unscathed.

  Four.

  They hadn’t been expecting opposition. They would be now.

  “Four coming up the stairs,” Han said. “Two in the lift.”

  Radko flipped some explosive out of her belt, tamped it around the drawer entry.

  “Get out of there,” Han said.

  “Get Chaudry and go. I’ll meet you outside.” This desk was indestructible for a reason, and Radko was sure she knew what that reason was. It was the safe. If there was a copy of the report in this room, it would be in that safe.

  “They’re carrying weapons of some type. I can’t identify them.”

  “Did you hear me? Outside. All of you. Chaudry?”

  “Going,” Chaudry said.

  Radko raced behind the other desk to shelter from the blast.

  “First group coming in,” Han said. Two slightly in front.

  Radko could see them. They could see her. But the wall had the distinctive shimmer of Plexiglass. They couldn’t shoot through it. They had to enter the room.

  The first burst in through the door. The blast from the drawer slowed them enough for Radko to get the first two shots in. One of their weapons skittered across the floor.

  A tranquilizer gun.

  She gestured threateningly with her blaster at the two orderlies—for they were dressed like orderlies—who paused outside the door. She ran for the drawer.

  A comms. Yes. She snatched it up.

  Someone, somewhere, was shouting.

  “Two more coming behind these.”

  “Han. Get the hell out of there. Where are van Heel and Chaudry?”

  “Gone.”

  “Good. No heroics. Now go.”

  More people burst through from the palace door. They had blasters; the orderlies had tranquilizers. Radko took her chance with the orderlies. She raced for the door, firing as she went. She made it outside.

  The Plexiglass stopped the blaster fire.

  Radko waved her blaster threateningly at the orderlies. “Come near, and I’ll fry you.”

  They backed away.

  “Farther,” Radko said.

  “There are two more coming up the stairs,” Han said urgently.

  Radko fired toward the stairs, still staring at the orderlies in front of her.

  Someone screamed, and there was the thud of someone falling.

  The orderlies backed away.

  Radko raced for the stairs. “Get the hell out of here, Han,” as she grabbed the railings and swung over, holding on till the last minute to slow her fall and minimize the distance.

  There was no answer from Han.

  Radko raced for the yard. Made it. Only to pull up as soldiers in the uniform of the Lesser Gods flooded through the entry.

  How many people did it take to cover a single break-in?

  One of the soldiers at the front raised a tranq gun.

  Another team of soldiers blocked the hallway behind her.

  There was nowhere to run.

  She felt the sting of the dart in her arm. Pulled it out. Only to feel the sting of two more, one in her back and one in her leg.

  TWENTY

  EAN LAMBERT

  THE INVITATION FROM Emperor Yu arrived while the Eleven was chasing the Iolo.

  The Emperor of Lancia expects the presence of Linesman Lambert at supper.

  Ean ignored it until after he came out of regen on Confluence Station. The burn on his leg itched where the new skin had taken; he’d come away with strict instructions on what he couldn’t do until after his third regeneration session. But the burn wasn’t painful anymore, and he could worry about other things, like how to refuse the invitation without aggravating the Emperor.

  But first things first, and the lines always came first. He’d promised Scout Ship Three to the Xantos. He’d somehow promised the Confluence it could choose its own crew.

  “And we are choosing.”

  Didn’t he know it.

  He called Abram. “I want to address the council. We need to hurry assigning ships to worlds. Otherwise, the council won’t get to choose.” He made the line as secure as he could. “The ships are desperate for linesmen. They’ll take any who come along, which is how Jakob nearly got Scout Ship Three. It’s a weakness we can’t afford.”

  “Line business.” Abram considered it. “It might even settle things because people are worried about—” He grimaced and didn’t say the word they both knew was “Lancia.” “I’ll schedule you to address the council.”

  “Thank you.” Ean clicked off.

  “Thank you,” came a whispered echo underneath his.

  He smiled and turned his attention to the other problem. Declining Empe
ror Yu’s invitation politely.

  Rigel’s lessons had taught him how to accept invitations from royalty, but they’d never taught him how to refuse them. Ean had declined two invitations from Michelle already, but would the same politely worded refusal be enough for the Emperor?

  “So, Ean.” He became aware Sale had said it twice. Or maybe three times. “What happened on the Gruen this afternoon?”

  He was glad it was Sale who was asking. “I’ll tell you after you tell me if this is a polite enough refusal for Emperor Yu.” He held up his comms and the message he had ready:

  It is with regret that I must decline, as I am presently attending to line issues.

  “Or do I have to refuse by calling one of his assistants?”

  Sale snatched his comms. “Let me see.” She scanned the earlier message. “You’ve had this for hours, Ean. We could have had you there by now.”

  “Michelle doesn’t want me to go to functions.”

  “This is not an invitation. It’s a summons. Shit. Grab your formal clothes. Quickly.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Ean. Hurry. You can change on the shuttle.”

  Ean called Michelle as he collected his formal uniform. Michelle was unavailable, so he left a semicoherent message with Michelle’s assistant, Lin—which he wasn’t even sure would be passed on—and made his way back to the shuttle. Lately, he spent more time in shuttles than he did on station.

  Sale called up on her comms. “Ean, supper will be over before you get there.”

  Dancing attendance on Emperor Yu had never been part of Ean’s plans. Not before he’d met Michelle, or after. But the man held his friends’ lives in his hands. If even Michelle was worried about what Yu could do, the best Ean could do to keep his friends safe was to do as Yu requested—within reason. He hurried back to the shuttle.

  Maybe he could use the time to ask Yu to rethink Radko’s wedding.

  Sale might have been reading his thoughts. “Don’t mention Radko,” she said, as they took off at speed. “Emperor Yu never, never, changes his mind. You’ll endanger yourself, Radko, Vega, and anyone else who was complicit in it. So don’t. Now, you still haven’t told me what happened today.”