Flames: Galaxy On Fire, Book 2

by Craig Robertson

  “No, blessing of mine. I meant only … I said …”

  “You were about to say but. What followed that crack?”

  “I’ll be in my room if either of you need me,” Al said and went silently away.

  TWENTY-NINE

  The teens were left on their own for the next three days. Neither the emperor nor Malraff summoned, tortured, or displayed them. They were going stir crazy fast. Their only entertainment came from one another. That and meals were the sole positive distractions. They were fed well. Mirraya wondered if that was intentional or an oversight. Maybe all the food on Excess of Nothing was choice so whatever they received was top shelf. One thing became clear to her early on. If she ate a lot, didn’t transform, and wasn’t otherwise active, she gained weight. To all other sentients in the galaxy, that fact was obvious. But to a pretty young teen realizing that for the first time was not a welcome insight. Slapgren, naturally either ignored or was unaware of any weight gain. He was a boy.

  Sentorip bathed and redressed Mirri often throughout the day in anticipation of some action. Mirri figured out the servant loved to do her job. If the two of them were jettisoned in a life pod, Sentorip would probably still scrub Mirri’s skin raw several times a day. But the dull life in the doldrums of a fancy prison were beginning to weigh on her. Slapgren seemed less restless. Large quantities of eating, sleeping, and pooping were enough to occupy his time. Mirri came to the point of frustration with his tolerance, maybe even appreciation, of his confinement. She asked him if he was as lazy back on Locinar as he was now. He said he wasn’t, because his parents pushed him. But he wasn't shy to say he would have loved to live this life before. He felt like royalty, he said. She said he was just the royal specimen in a fancy zoo. After considering her characterization, he said he had to agree with her, but so far that didn’t present a problem.

  Finally, the nuncio came for them with his usual overdone escorts. It was early, which was different than the prior summons. Mirraya wondered if that was important. She concluded that any change with these vicious Adamant was a bad change. The teens were passed off at the room door, as before, and positioned at the foot of HIL’s massive throne, with the boss sitting comfortably on it, chatting with some functionary.

  After making the teens wait a sufficient amount of time to remind them they were less important than small talk, the emperor waved off the courtier and looked in the general direction of his prisoners. Inspecting their color and appearance of his manicured claws prevented him from actually looking at them, however.

  “We are most pleased to learn that High Seer Malraff and yourselves are getting along so well. We are especially glad she has dedicated so much of her valuable time with efforts to educate and entertain you. She is our valued subject.”

  Mirri tried to keep a neutral facial expression. It wasn’t easy. Aside from taking the time to threaten them, Malraff had been invisible.

  The vice-chamberlain repeated the boss’s words to the pair. Both Deft were finding this intermediary in simple communications most annoying.

  “Please inform My Imperial Lord that we are well and anxious to be educated. We also wonder what is the purpose of confining us here,” asked Mirraya.

  That brought a loud hush from those assembled in the massive room.

  Mirri replayed her words in her head to see that she’d done it again.

  Arktackle appeared to prefer letting the indiscretion go, but clarified what her error had been in his translation to the boss. “They are grateful for your magnanimity, High Seer Malraff’s generosity, and for your invitation for them to be your honored guests here on Excess of Nothing.”

  Ah, they were honored guests, not prisoners of war. Mirri bit her tongue hard to stop herself from asking if all honored guest were caned. The less she said, the less pain she’d have to bear.

  “It is our vision that you, the ambassadors of the Deft, will help the Adamant to advance their knowledge of nature. It is for this purpose that we have summoned you to be our guests. You will find over time that we possess a very large and capable medical and scientific team at our command. They will do the brunt of the work in learning from you what it is we want to understand better. The high seer has informed me she discussed these matters with you a more than one occasion and that you are more than anxious to do your part.”

  Huh? When did any of that happen? Mirraya knew the duplicitous Malraff was lying to the emperor, but the extent of it was really dawning on her. Mirri was very nervous to learn what process it was she was so anxious to help with. It was unlikely to be pleasant.

  “We are happy to announce that your participation in our quest for knowledge will begin at once. My chief scientist Jashool Bendert will be in command of the project. However, lest you fret, the high seer will be by his side the entire time, helping to bridge any gaps that might arise in your cooperation or commitment to our plan.”

  He spun a paw in the air, indicating the vice-chamberlain should translate his lofty thoughts up to that point.

  After he repeated the emperor’s double-talk, Mirri was uncertain whether to push him for a less oblique version of what was in store for them. It didn’t matter too much, she reasoned in the end. Whatever was the emperor was planning for them was going to happen whether they know or did not know.

  She elected to say nothing in response. That, it turned out, was precisely what the emperor wanted. He was prone to the onset of boredom so rapidly that it seemed to be lightning induced. Such was the case with the revolting things he was forced to speak at. He had several incautious romantic rendezvous to partake in before the noon banquet in his honor. That all meals were banquets and all were in his honor did not detract in the slightest from the satisfaction such knowledge brought him. He was as out of touch with reality as any powerful leader was.

  When the teens were returned to their quarters, they were disturbed to find Malraff slumped on a collection of pillows in the common area where they took meals.

  “That, my sources tell me, went better than I would have thought. I can’t believe neither of you little pieces of shit demanded explanations or fought against the inevitable. You might just be learning something.”

  “What was he talking about? Just how are we going to be participating in the advancement of Adamant knowledge?” snapped Mirraya.

  “You know, child, if I wasn’t so damn comfortable lounging here, I’d collapse that idiot friend of yours’s throat again. Never take that tone with me. Ever.”

  More conversationally, Mirri asked, “What plans does His Imperial Lord have for us?”

  “One you would disapprove of and resist with all you might, if that were possible. But it is not possible. I am involved. I do not allow laboratory animals to slow research by acting out or attempting to not participate fully.” She snorted a laugh. “I’m a motivator of the masses, child. I will make certain your devotion to the experiments never flags in the slightest. Know that it will be both my duty to His Imperial Lord and my distinct personal pleasure to motivate you in ways you cannot imagine.”

  “What are the experiments? What are you going to do to us?” asked Mirri.

  “You will learn the answers to those questions the moment they happen. Until then, I wouldn’t want to spoil your sense of anticipation or dread.” She smiled an evil smile. “What kind of friend would I be if I diminished your experience by telling you what you were about to suffer through?”

  THIRTY

  I’d forgotten just how satisfying a big explosion could be when it was your mortal enemy blowing up in it. It was grand. Remember as kids how we marveled, even worshiped fireworks? The more dangerous and illegal the better, right? Now I was a big kid and my explosions were more epic, more titillating. I’d seen plenty of nukes. They were ginormous to be certain. But they didn’t have the satisfying boom of a good conventional destruction-sized blast. Nah, the nukes were too much. If you were close enough to enjoy the experience, you were vaporized. Too high a price to pay, even for me.r />
  With the happy memories of the boom-boom, I made it back to Whoop Ass in no time.

  “Hey, GB, I christened you,” I declared as I stepped aboard.

  “I’ll bite. What does that even mean?”

  “You are officially Whoop Ass. We took out most of an enemy encampment. You’re officially an ass-whooping machine.”

  “Give me a sec to call my mom. She’ll be so proud.”

  “She would be if she could be. We did good work. Strong work.”

  “Is there a connection between you, or should I say us, whooping ass and that large explosion?”

  “One and the same, my compatriot.”

  “Ah, that would explain the rush of military equipment into this area.”

  “I figured they’d investigate, but please do exaggerate their response. Half the camp is there to reassure the powers that be that, well, at least half the camp is still there.”

  “Fine. I will not exaggerate.” He began humming some unknown tune.

  “Ah, are you going to report their measured response to me?”

  “Oh, you want the facts. Sorry, I was busy not exaggerating or overreacting.”

  “Time and place, GB. Remember we’ve discussed that many times.”

  “Fine. The measured response so far has been to flood the sky. Sorry, flood is a judgmental choice of verbiage. They’ve place one thousand eight hundred and fifty-three cruiser-sized warships directly above us. Already swarms … already twenty-five thousand additional ground troops are here and fanning out. An additional one hundred thousand specialized forces are within half an hour of arrival. That includes twelve hundred skimmer tanks, eleven thousand mobile firing plat—”

  “I get the picture.”

  “Fine. Since I didn’t exaggerate and you’re not going to freak out, may I return to my humming? It’s really quite relaxing.”

  “Why is relaxation important at a time like this?”

  “One should ideally be relaxed when they are being butchered.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I was trying to be realistic.”

  “Here’s a thought, be silent.” I plopped into the captain’s seat and ran my fingers through my hair. “Can we take off and achieve warp before we are shot or physically blocked?”

  He hummed a few more bars. “No.” He resumed his oh-so-annoying humming.

  “By no, do you mean there’s no escape or that there’s no safe escape?”

  “Yes.” Then he was back to humming.

  “GB, you’re one wisecrack away from not getting a fruit cup. Can we take off?”

  “Yes, we can.”

  “Is there a safe or reasonably safe path to warp?”

  “Negative. Odds of success given the mass of metal up there is miniscule. Plus, said mass will open fire if we drew near, further decreasing our chance of success.”

  “Have they located us?”

  “I think they are narrowing in on us, given the encampment’s location and the distance a person could travel on foot. They’ve noticed no vehicles departed from the ruined camp.”

  “So, if we remain put and cloaked, we’re likely to be discovered?”

  “Chance of rain one hundred percent.”

  “GB, we’re in a crisis of sorts, but I have to ask. Where is this colorful language coming from? You sound more like a surfer bum every day.”

  “I am programmed to adapt quickly, to support the wide range of little beasties I collect.”

  “Let me just ask. Why do they need adaptive support when you’re just going to kill them?”

  “Harsh, dude. Ideally, they will benefit from my flexibility.”

  “Euthanasia is like that where you come from, eh?”

  “Like, you’re bumming me out. Can you vibe in a more positive direction?”

  “No. In fact, we’re about to vibe in a positively negative direction.”

  “Ah, I’m not reading the break of your wave crest, Captain dude. What are you actually saying?”

  “If we cannot escape up, and we cannot survive holding our position, what direction is left to us?”

  “Ah, none, man. What dimension are you from?”

  “A brighter one than you, but that’s beside the point. GB, what is the minimum distance you need to travel to establish a stable warp bubble?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I, unlike you, do not plan on getting my head bashed here. What’s the minimum distance?”

  “A few meters, if the path is clean as the vacuum of deep space.”

  “Why the clear path?”

  “The warp bubble is as unstable as you currently appear to be. Any matter and most energy will disrupt the forming bubble. Then, we all go boom.”

  “Lay in a course. I want you to rise ten meters, then accelerate toward the ground at flank speed. Before impact, form a warp bubble. Then maintain a linear path until we exit the other side of the planet. Is that clear?”

  “What’s clear is that you’ve popped a circuit bank. It would be a lot less trouble to just self-destruct.”

  “Where’s the fun in that? Nah, we’re escaping or we’re going out big.”

  “But, dude, the chances of establishing a stable bubble inside an atmosphere while crashing downward is like zero.”

  “Like zero is not the same as zero. If you get the bubble up in time, we’ll pass through the planet like it wasn’t there.”

  “If I don’t, we’ll be unrecognizable dust.”

  “Excellent. That way they won’t know who penetrated their defenses. It’ll drive them nuts.”

  “Ah, that’s like little consolation, pilot dude.”

  “A little is better than none. Make you best estimates. The engines burn in twenty seconds.”

  “And I was having an otherwise totally cool day.”

  “Ten seconds.”

  “Can’t I have a little more time?”

  “No, we have to go before they arrive. Five.”

  “Holy crap, this is cutting it too close.”

  “Lift off.”

  We lifted off. It was so abbreviated I didn’t feel us move up or feel us reverse course and plunge downward. I did feel the ship rattle violently. I knew that wasn’t from impact. That would be a really distinct feeling.

  “Woah, dude,” screamed GB, “we’re half way to the planet core, and we’re not dead.”

  “I knew you could do it,” I lied. I imagined I’d be vapor in an impact crater by that juncture.

  Seconds later, we broke into unrestricted space over the opposite side of the planet. I ordered GB to execute a hard turn to port then had him hold course and speed for several hours. I had to see if they could track us. I also needed to calm down. That desperation move shook me up.

  Just when I figured we were free of the Adamant, GB sounded his equivalent of general quarters.

  “Captain, there’s a bunch of warships on an intercept course heading right at us. It’s totally weird.”

  “Adamant ships?”

  “I think so, but it’ll take a sec to check. Taking readings outside a bubble is double trouble, Barney Rubble.”

  “Okay, new imperative. Reset communications to default immediately. Add no adaptive elements to any conversations with me. Is that perfectly clear?”

  “Yes, du … sir. I should point out, Captain, that at default mode, I am back to being incredulous that you took command of me. I am a specimen …”

  “GB, there are a bunch of warships following us who shouldn’t be able to follow us. If they come within weapons range, we’re likely to become warm debris. Is this the most opportune time to vent grievances?”

  “I take your meaning. Please don’t consider the issue closed, however.”

  “Hard to starboard and up forty-five degrees on the Z-axis. Maintain maximum velocity.”

  “Done.”

  “Let me know when…”

  “Captain, all one hundred and thirty-seven warships have altered their course to intercept us.”
>
  “Are they using conventional drives or making interval jumps?”

  “Conventional drives could never hope to overtake us, as we are moving FTL. They are making incremental jumps.”

  “Are they all jumping at the same time, or do they stagger their entry and exit from hyperspace?”

  “All at once to the microsecond.”

  “And how long are they out of normal space?”

  “Thirty microseconds, give or take. The three-dimensional jumps seem to take them a bit longer.”

  “Interesting. What is the minimum time it would take you to make a course adjustment at our present speed?”

  “That would depend on the amount of change desired. The greater the alteration of our vector, the longer it would take.”

  “How about a ten-degree shift to port?”

  “Six microseconds.”

  “How about ten to port and ten in the Z?”

  “Eleven microseconds. Why do you ask? I don’t see the direction your thoughts are going.”

  “I can live with that. Look, I want to make a ninety degree turn to the starboard with a forty fiver in the negative Z. The instant the last Adamant ship has entered hyperspace, execute a second turn, ten to port and ten in the positive Z. The moment the second turn is complete, alert me. I will put up a complete membrane to enshroud the ship. We can coast in it a long time, and they will not be able to detect us. Oh, once the course is set, make a note of all material objects along that trajectory. I don’t want to run through a habited planet or anything big.”

  “One question. What is a complete membrane, and where will it come from?”

  “I haven’t told you about those? Are you sure?”

  “Sure as you’re a shifty character, yes.”

  “I have a personal device installed that can project a force field. My unit can put a membrane around the ship to about thirty meters. Nothing can see in and nothing can get out. Nothing.”

  “Hm. Sounds useful. Where can I get one?”

  “You can’t. Have you made the calculations for the course changes?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I said so. Are we ready to evade complete destruction?”