“You wish me to attend to it?”
Bahr nodded. “I trust I can leave the details to you.”
“Naturally,” Sai’bot said.
Hundreds of military commanders, from each of the Twelve Factions as well as the Extrasolar Colonies, assembled in the war room of Earth Tower One, awaiting orders from the High Command. Rumours were everywhere, and an air of excitement spread from group to group.
At the centre of the briefing room was a large, circular light-table, projected above which a large holographic image of the Easesash Stone hovered, beside a complex three-dimensional image of its molecular geometry. Scrolling lines of text revealed several properties of the Stone including its reactivity, polarity, phase of matter, colour, magnetism, and biological activity.
Queen Neferneferu’aten entered the room. The stately, beautiful young woman seemed to walk above the murmurs of the crowd. She wore white robes with silver braiding, and her severity was not without cause - for she was the elected leader of the Terran Alliance.
She traversed the room, now, to the holographic display where she conferred with her two chief advisors, Warmaster Paramo and Grand Admiral Kuolor. Paramo was the oldest person in the room by a fairly wide margin, but also undoubtedly, one of the most respected. Kuolor was somewhere in his mid-fifties - tough, resourceful, if a bit of a martinet. He and Paramo were dressed in similar-looking garb, highly-decorated military dress uniforms.
Suddenly, at the centre of the room, Neferneferu’aten signalled for attention. The room fell silent. Anticipation was keen.
“What you have all heard is true,” the supreme leader announced. “We now have the Easesash Stone in our possession, thanks to Warmaster Paramo and his Special Frontier Force. It currently resides at a high-security facility here on Earth. Without it, the Empyreal Sun cannot achieve their goals. For the first time in four years, we have an advantage over them.”
This caused a great stir in the room. As if her message had been a valve letting off pressure, the air hissed with comment. She turned to the hologram of the Stone and went on. “Laputan scientists have been analysing the Easesash Stone over the past few days. They have confirmed that the artefact is eight million years old, forged by the Xeilig themselves. Perhaps most significantly, we now know that the molecular geometry of the artefact contains some highly exotic matter indeed - Lambda particles - believed to be the most powerful substance known to exist.”
A volley of spirited chatter erupted from the assembly.
Neferneferu’aten continued when the hubbub died down slightly. “It cannot be destroyed by any weapon that we, or the Nommos people, currently possess. It is theorised that this Lambda exists in a multidimensional state - present in nature at the instant of a Big Bang, when a universe is born. The molecules are so energetic that the Easesash Stone could power our entire civilisation.”
Warmaster Paramo stepped forward. “Xam Bahr has another three, and possibly a fourth, of these Stones now in his possession. All he needs is the Easesash Stone, and he can put them all together to form some kind of machine, an ‘Ark’, fashioned by the Xeilig. The exact nature of this ‘Ark’ remains unknown, but it is believed to be incredibly powerful indeed. So powerful, in fact, that the Xeilig themselves thought it wise to disassemble it and scatter the pieces across the galaxy.”
Another murmur swept over the room of commanders, like a swell in a heavy sea.
Grand Admiral Kuolor gestured for calm. “This is a matter of grave importance. Since we cannot destroy the Easesash Stone, we have no choice but to protect it. It must not fall into Xam Bahr’s hands. Our intelligence network believes that the Empyreal Sun will attempt to steal it by force, so we are stepping up security measures throughout the Sol System. To guard against the possibility of a surprise attack, we will surround the planet Earth with a shell of orbiting space mines.”
This news stimulated another round of general mumbling.
Paramo nodded. “I have also ordered the construction of nearly five hundred warships at the Ganymede Shipyards. Mostly small bioships that can be finished in a hurry, but also several capital ships. The Empyreal Sun may be preparing for war, so we will need to be capable of answering them. While these huge capital ships probably would not be ready before the Empyreal Sun arrived here, I am confident they will provide us with vital support over the coming weeks. In the meantime, the rest of the fleet will be stationed here, to await further instructions.”
“What will happen if the Stone does fall into enemy hands?” asked Chancellor Denigrand of the Twelfth Faction. “What happens after that?”
Neferneferu’aten smiled tightly. “There won’t be any after that.”
Denigrand nodded slowly, understandingly, and sat down.
“Any other questions?” Paramo asked. Silence now, pregnant with expectation.
“Then let’s make this happen.”
Like oil draining from a shallow pot, the seated ranks of men, women, and Sentinels rose and flowed toward the exits.
“You’ve had worse ideas, Machiko,” Lorelei Chen reluctantly admitted, nodding her head back so the sunlight fell on her face and her black hair trailed behind her. Posed that way, eyes closed, framed against the blue line of the water, her beauty closed Machiko’s throat for a moment.
Lora’s green eyes opened, and she looked at Machiko with a sort of wistful fondness before arching a cynical brow. “Getting all motherly on me again?”
“No,” Machiko said softly. “Just thinking how ridiculously lucky I am.”
Chen smiled fondly. She took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s walk a bit more.”
The beach was warm beneath Machiko’s bare feet. She had been reluctant to agree to going shoeless, but Chen had insisted that’s what one did on a beach. They continued along the strand, past clusters of young trees, ferns, vines and lianas. Waves were beginning to lap on the beach, which meant by now they were on the far side of the basin. Laputa, of course, was a floating island, about four-and-a-half miles in diameter, with a glittering metallic base which its inhabitants could manoeuvre in any direction using magnetic levitation. Manmade waterfalls flowed into small rivers toward the island’s centre, where they emptied into four large basins such as this one, surrounded on all sides by beautiful and exotic beaches.
So Machiko walked with her lover as evening fell. The sun had vanished in a lens on the horizon, and now the lights of the Silver City began to shatter the illusion of pristine nature. The distant shores glowed with activity, and the sky was turning from deep red to black. There was a baroque embroidery of light as transports and bioships followed their carefully assigned paths to and from the city, some coming home, some leaving home, some merely arriving at another port. A million little lights.
“What do you think will happen to us, Machiko?” Chen asked then, her face serious, staring toward the lights of the city. “Do you think the Empyreal Sun will really come here?”
“I don’t know,” Machiko sighed. “Everyone seems to think so. Though surely, if Xam Bahr thinks he can go up against the entire Terran Alliance fleet just to recover the Easesash Stone, he must be mad. It would be folly on his part.”
Chen stopped walking, and her face reflected a sudden profound astonishment. “You’re afraid,” she said. “Aren’t you?”
Machiko nodded. “I guess I am.” She took a deep breath.
“Then that makes two of us.”
They walked in a tense silence for a while.
Lorelei Chen’s face suddenly grew serious again. “There is one very important thing I want to say, now, before another second passes.”
Machiko raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“I’m really hungry, Machiko. Really, really hungry. If I don’t eat right away, I’m going to salt you in seawater and gobble you up.” Chen smiled, melting away the tension.
“You’d be disappointed,” Machiko said. “It’s fresh water. Come on. The pavilion isn’t far. There sho
uld be food waiting.”
They ate outside at a table of polished red Martian rock while the genetically-engineered blossoms around them chimed a quiet music and released fragrances to complement each course. Machiko felt ridiculously pampered and a little guilty considering recent events, but managed to relax somewhat into the mood.
While they ate, the robotic waiter brought them a bottle of Cha’pagn. Machiko poured them each a glass of the fruity drink, and took a large gulp. Somehow, it felt necessary. The cold bubbles fizzed on her dry throat; it was extremely rewarding. “I’ll be inebriated before we go to bed, if we’re not careful,” she joked.
Chen giggled.
Afterward, the couple retreated to their apartment, laughing their way into the sitting room, with its comfortable chairs and sofa, and a huge warm fire blazing in the hearth. Alone, Machiko wanted to kiss Lora, so desperately… and it was precisely that out-of-control sensation that spurred on her movement. She smiled, then leant forward and covered Lora’s mouth with hers. She touched her hand, sliding one finger over a little scar there.
Her lips went down over Chen’s neck, and then suddenly and without warning they were lusting for each other. Their dresses hit the floor. Machiko pulled Chen toward her, still kissing, gently lowering her to rest on the cushions of the sofa. Then she reached up her hands, a tongue went out, and Lora stiffened, relaxed, and stiffened again as the tongue moved. Lora’s face was flushed as they found a rhythm, one hand squeezing the cushions tightly, the other in Machiko’s hair, pulling her inward.
Chen’s back arched over and over, Machiko’s skilled tongue coaxing her closer and closer to orgasm, and at last she squeezed her eyes shut so tight that all she could see were needles of light, dancing on her corneas. Her face was flushed; her eyes closed as she bit her lip and groaned under the sensations. She threw her head back in a silent cry of pleasure and then, opening her eyes again, reached to pull Machiko to her. “I love you,” she whispered. She couldn’t breathe.
And after another moment, she didn’t worry about breathing anymore.
13
The silvery bulk of a two-passenger Basilisk-class bioship sliced through Earth’s atmosphere, glittering like a sliver of silvered ice in the rays of the morning sun. Spiral-dancing to inaudible music, it went down low as soon as it broke through the upper stratosphere, ducking below any tracking systems that might be in place, slipping through wispy cloud, to skim the red plains and broken stones on the surface. It weaved around buttes and mesas, entering an uncongenial wilderness known as the Pass of Cerbion, seemingly a barren and arid red plain. Shovel-nosed and knife-edged, its wings swept back and its vertical stabilisers crimped inward top to bottom, it hugged the landscape as it climbed promontories and descended valleys, searching. Dark and immutable, it had the look of a predator, of a hunter at work.
The ship’s scanners picked up some activity in the distance. Yvanos Krin honed in and skimmed that way, climbing one mesa and running low to its far end, then slid the ship under a rocky overhang and put her down as gentle as a kiss. Wild beasts scattered with its approach, tossing their hairy heads and massive horns, trumpeting their disapproval. The Basilisk-class ship came to rest, blowing up dust, and its engines shut down.
It sat there in silence for a moment, waiting. Its smooth, glassy side rippled, and a rectangular outline appeared, then slid upward. Yvanos Krin, a tall, bearded man dressed in a black jumpsuit stepped into the doorway and hopped down, followed by a second, clean-shaven passenger, a startlingly intense younger man with fine brown hair, named Gaeriel Pencron.
Krin walked to the mesa edge, closely followed by his companion. The night air had a curious metallic taste to it, and the temperature was comfortable. A strong breeze blew in Krin’s face as he surveyed the landscape, carrying a fairly putrid odour. He produced a pair of low-light electrobinoculars, and began to scan the horizon in all directions.
Desert, sand and rocks, he was thinking. Wasteland… But there, the City of Emnoute of the Third Faction. The lights of the city were clearly visible against the growing dark. He smiled faintly. “There it is,” he muttered.
The two men walked back to the ship and went to the vehicle hangar, where they jumped into a Zat’utpyt, an all-terrain personnel carrier, firing it up and zooming away, off the platform and then east across the sand dunes toward Emnoute.
The Empyreal Sun had managed to insert one of its many agents into Emnoute. Krin and Pencron hadn’t been told when or even if they were going to make contact with the agent, but moments before leaving Reria they had been informed that Timpo Jocle - a member of the New Senate - had been arrested for the attempted assassination of Queen Neferneferu’aten, and sent to the prison here. Locating him would be the primary objective.
An alert chime sounded from the Zat’utpyt’s instrument console.
“Border control,” Pencron said. “Demanding that we identify ourselves and state our intent.”
“We’re freelance merchants in search of work,” Krin reminded him.
Pencron activated the communications system and said as much into the microphone.
“Basilisk-class Zat’utpyt,” a husky voice returned, “negative on your request to enter the city. Emnoute has no job openings. Suggest you try Ickerent or Einek.”
Krin’s gaze drifted to the viewport. Off to starboard, a Sentinel patrol cruiser was coming about.
“Intercept vector,” Pencron said. “Any last-minute instructions?”
“Yes: stick to the plan. Our best hope for getting close to Senator Jocle is to get ourselves arrested.”
Pencron grinned. “Shouldn’t be a problem. Hang on.”
Krin already was, and so was able to remain more or less upright in the chair as Pencron throttled the engines and threw the Zat’utpyt into a hard turn - not away from the Sentinel cruiser, but aimed directly toward it.
The console chimed another alert.
“They’re warning us away,” Krin observed.
Pencron kept the vehicle on course. “Quick drive-by. Our way of saying we’re not happy about being turned away.”
“No weapons fire.”
“Promise. We’re just going to pass them.”
Krin watched the cruiser grow larger in the viewport. The console continued to chime, in escalating alerts. An instant later, two bluish-white railgun slugs streaked across the Zat’utpyt’s nose.
“They’re not amused.”
“We’ll just have to try harder.”
Pencron increased speed, seemingly bent on manoeuvring straight into a collision course with the cruiser, but at the last moment he pulled to the left and narrowly missed clipping the other vehicle’s tail.
“Enough,” Krin said. “Slow down and signal that we’re complying.” He saw that two other patrol cruisers were rushing in to join the pursuit. With flashes of scarlet light racing alongside, Pencron’s hands flew across the instruments, shutting down some systems and activating others.
“Don’t try to fight them, Gaeriel. The Zat’utpyt won’t hold together.”
A deep shudder from the bowels of the vehicle reinforced his words. Pencron clenched his jaw, then eased up on the throttle. The Sentinel patrol cruisers guided them toward a facility just outside the city.
Ordered out of the vehicle, Krin and Pencron stood at the foot of the access ladder with their hands clamped on top of their heads. Uniformed officials surrounded the Zat’utpyt, and a security team comprising of both humans and Sentinels was marching toward them.
“Nice, warm welcome,” Krin muttered.
“Keep your hands where we can see them!” the human chief of the security detail shouted as he stepped toward them. “Make no sudden moves!”
The lead Sentinel barked, “Anomaly. No biological profile found for either subject.”
“Confirmed,” said another. “No identity records exist for either subject. Conclusion: suspected criminals.”
“Such drama,” Pencron whispered to Krin.
The
blond security officer was as tall as Pencron and wider in the shoulders. An Emnoute Security badge affixed to the collar of his olive-coloured uniform showed him to be a captain of the King’s Guard. At his signal, the Sentinels spread out to both sides, brandishing shockwhips. The captain looked Krin and Pencron up and down, then circled them once, hands clasped behind his back.
Eyeing the Zat’utpyt, he said, “Judging by the retrofitted particle cannons, I’d have to guess you’re not ambassadors of goodwill…”
“Let’s just say we’ve been forced to adapt to the times,” Krin said, somewhat sarcastically.
The captain scowled at him. “What’s your business in this part of the world?”
“We were hoping to find freelance work,” Pencron said.
“You were informed otherwise. Why create problems for yourselves by harassing one of our patrol cruisers?”
“We felt that you’d been impolite, when all we wanted was to introduce ourselves.”
The captain almost laughed. “Then this has all been a misunderstanding?”
“Exactly,” Krin said.
The captain shook his head in amusement. “In that case we’d be glad to show you around - starting with the prison facility!” He swung to two other humans in the detail. “Restrain these comedians and search them for concealed weapons.”
“Can’t we simply pay a fine and be on our way?” Krin asked as magnetic handcuffs snapped into place around his wrists.
“Tell it to the Justice Court.”
Frisks completed, the two humans stepped away. “They’re clean.”
The captain nodded. “That’s one thing in their favour. Search the vehicle and impound anything of value. And alert detention that I have two for containment.” Drawing a disruptor pistol from his hip holster, he motioned Krin and Pencron toward a nearby elevator atrium. He indicated an unoccupied lift and followed them inside. When two Sentinel guards hurried for the same lift, he waved them away. As soon as the door closed, he lowered his weapon and spoke with a sudden urgency.
The Complete New Dominion Trilogy Page 38