by Alex Kings
“We have to tell the Tethyans,” Serafin said.
Lanik, though he hated to, agreed.
Soon after, the shuttle reported back. No survivors on the wreckage. A Tethyan battleship, Lanik had heard once, had a crew complement of around twenty thousand.
But there was nothing more to do here. Carrying the Black Cat on its hull, the Dauntless made its first jump towards Tethya.
*
Aboard the liner, Pierce had brought a fraction of his personal library: A mahogany shelf containing a set of ten books, all real paper, all bound in real leather.
Now he leaned over it, skimming the titles. At last he chose one and eased it from between its companions. His shoes padded softly against the carpet as he walked back to his armchair, where he settled down and opened the book.
Machiavelli. The Prince. What better way to celebrate the eve of his ascension to leader of the whole galaxy?
It would difficult, he knew, even when he had control. There would be rebellions. And then all the things he had to sort out. The issue of the Albascene and the Petaurs. Civilising the Glaber. But he could do it. He'd been doing the impossible since he was a boy, and he wasn't about to stop now.
He read slowly from one jump to the next, a tumbler of brandy in his right hand, until they were nearly at the IL base. Then he heard a timid knock at the door.
A distant flicker of anxiety passed through him. He'd asked Millicent not to trouble him unless it was urgent. Which meant she wouldn't unless it was very urgent.
He set down his tumbler on the table next to his chair, and tapped at the tablet to open the doors.
Millicent came in looking, as always, worried. “Mr. Pierce … It's Mr. Schmidt on the line. He says we've been discovered.”
Immediately, Pierce snapped the book closed and lay it on the arm of the chair. He picked up his tablet, extended it to a decent size, and set it in front him. “Put him through,” he said. “And come here. You need to hear this as much as I.”
Millicent moved over to stand beside Pierce's chair, tapping at her own tablet as she did so, and a new window opened in front of Pierce. He took the call.
Schmidt, a senior executive, had a swollen face, dabbed in a sunburnt sort of pink that never went away. A thin blond moustache did nothing the help the effect.
“What's happened?” Pierce asked.
“An operative from the Solar Intelligence Service just appeared over Tethya. She has mounds of evidence. She's sharing it with the Solar Alliance and the Tethyans. There's no way we can stem the tide.”
“Understood. Have you initiated the Evacuation?”
“Yes, Mr. Pierce.”
The Evacuation – Pierce's backup plan in case IL were ever discovered. It involved saving as many assets as possible. In a sense, taking the whole company and hiding it. The important parts of it, anyway.
“What about our liabilities?”
Liabilities were a thousand or so individuals who knew enough to provide evidence to the authorities that might harm Pierce.
“Dealt with,” said Schmidt.
“Good.”
“If I may, Mr. Pierce,” began Schmidt. “Aren't we starting today? Is there any need for this?”
“If were guaranteed a victory, perhaps not,” Pierce told him. “But until we are in full control, I would rather be prudent.”
Schmidt nodded, as if this were a good idea that he had already thought of. “Yes, Mr. Pierce. Your new destination should be Cygnus 15. We're gathering our non-liquid assets there for now.”
“Very well,” said Pierce. “I want some observers left in Tethya. To tell us how Mr. Bell is faring.”
“I'll get right on it,” said Schmidt.
Pierce said goodbye to him, then killed the connection. He started at the blank screen for a while, then told Millicent, “Tell the pilot to take us to Cygnus 15.”
“Y-yes, Mr. Pierce.” She tapped at her tablet and, a few moments later, said, “We're plotting a new jump now.
Pierce leaned back in his chair and took up his book again.
Chapter 62: Coffee
Four hours in. Srak slept fitfully, wincing in pain every so often. Agatha lay beside him. Hanson and Moore kept watch with the shuttle's sensors.
Yilva kept working.
When Hanson went to check on her, she had her helmet off and was grinding the palms of her hands into her forehead, ears flat against her head. Her tablet, still taking up a square metre, was dense with equations and lines of code. As he approached, one of her ears shot up and angled like a radar dish towards him. She looked up at him and blinked.
“How are you getting along?” he asked.
Yilva responded with a small, high-pitched growl that turned into a groan. “I don't know. We might make it, we might not. I … I don't know if I can keep this pace up, though.”
“I don't know much about Petaur physiology,” said Hanson. “Would coffee work?”
“Coffee?” Yilva blinked. “Wait, caffeine drink? Yes, caffeine works!”
“Gotcha.” Hanson ducked back to the shuttle. Most of their rations were gone – he hadn't expected to stay long on the ship – but a few sealed cups of high-strength espresso remained. He took them all back to Yilva.
“Thanks!” And in a flash she'd drunk two in a single gulp each.
“If we can spare the time, it might be best to take a break,” Hanson told her, sitting against the wall.
“Yeah, yeah, good idea.” Yilva counted the espresso cups, muttered some calculations like she was dividing them up over the next five hours, then sat back. “I've done long shifts before,” she said. “Never quite this high-pressure though.”
“I'd ask you to get some sleep before the big event, but you're the only who can do this.”
Yilva shrugged. “Yeah, I get it. When we're done here, I'm going to sleep for a week. Or – or be dead! Which would still be kind of a relief, actually.” She stared at the opposite wall. “Maybe better than being indentured again.”
“You'll be the hero of the galaxy. That ought to count for something,” said Hanson.
“Yes. Maybe they'll just double my time!” Yilva grinned at him, but there was no joy in it.
“What happened between the Albascene and the Petaurs?” asked Hanson. “I know you don't have a homeworld ...”
“That's it,” said Yilva. “We have a homeworld. It's just inhabitable.” She paused to scratch at her ear. “About two hundred years ago, we had a war. I don't know what started it … something small and stupid, probably. But the two biggest nations on the planet went to war. One threw the first nuclear bomb, and then things went downhill. And all this happened just a year before we made first contact. When the Albascene came, nearly everything was poisoned with radiation. They rescued the survivors …”
“And being Albascene, made them sign a contract?”
“Yes. The species as a whole had to acknowledge the rescue wasn't free, and that the Albascene rescued us at great expense. The price was four generations of indentured labour.”
“Four? That should have finished by now, then.”
Yilva nodded. “Yes! But then there were the all the added clauses. Consuming too much, they extended your indenture time. The foreman judged your work to be of low quality, they extended the indenture time. Insubordination, they extended the time. Trying to escape, they extended the time. Managing to escape, they extended the time for your family and friends.”
Hanson grunted. “Maybe, once we've taken down IL, the Albascene should be next on our list.” He saw Yilva's skeptical expression. “What can I say? I dream big.”
The Ancient ship jumped again. Hanson felt his insides squeezed. A moment later they were free again.
A couple of minutes later, new noises came flowing through the tunnels and chambers: First, a distant thump, like a docking. This was followed a few seconds later by a grinding noise that lasted ten seconds or so.
“That's the Forge!” said Yilva. “We're docking now.”
The grinding noise repeated twice more.
“I need to get back to work,” said Yilva. She scrambled across the floor to her tablet and started taping again. “Thanks for the coffee!” she said.
“Sure thing,” said Hanson.
After a final grind, the ship fell silent. Hanson went to wake Agatha.
A few minutes later, the Ancient ship jumped again, now heading for Tethya.
Chapter 63: Gone
Lanik stepped onto the CIC, followed closely by Operative Serafin. They stood on either side of the command console.
“Jump calculations are complete,” Fermi told him a few seconds later.
Lanik nodded. “Engage.”
Miller's voice over the comms: “Prepare for jump. All hands, prepare for jump in five … four … three … two … one.”
The starfield ahead rippled away into a wormhole mouth, which a moment later shot towards them. The Dauntless creaked and shuddered under the tidal forces. The view gave way to a great blue sphere, haloed in lighter blue, taking on a gibbous-moon shape.
Tethya.
“Signal on the Tethyan frequency,” Lanik ordered.
“Yes sir,” said Miller. She tapped at her console. “Ready.”
“Go ahead,” Lanik told Serafin.
She took the microphone and pulled it towards her. “This is Operative Amina Serafin of the SIS. Top-priority update on the mission. Direct communication requested.”
Silence.
“We've got one of the Alliance ships coming to meet us,” Dunn reported. “The Mettlesome. All kinetics and laser turrets aimed at us. We're getting the order to surrender.”
The Mettlesome appeared on screen, a hefty dreadnought that could threaten the Dauntless even if she wasn't damaged.
“Do it,” said Lanik.
“Yes, s –”
A giant blue ovoid sailed into space between them. A Tethyan battleship. Lanik looked over at Serafin and raised an eyebrow.
“We're getting a hail.”
“Put it through.”
A second screen showed a view of a Tethyan, smooth exoskeleton glinting in some overhead light source. The audio was in a clipped accent: “This is a secure line. I am Raan, leader of this vessel. What is the mission status? Where are the ships sent to escort you?”
“The Ancient ship became active before we could stop it,” said Serafin. “It destroyed the other ships and jumped away.”
A pause. “It destroyed a battleship?”
“Yes,” said Serafin.
“Send them our telemetry from the encounter,” ordered Lanik. “Let them see for themselves.”
When the telemetry had been sent, there was a pause. At last, Raan said, “Where is the Ancient ship?”
“We don't know. We need to find –”
“Why did it not destroy your ships?”
“We don't know that either. Likely it thought we weren't a threat.”
“Unacceptable,” said Raan.
Serafin switched off the microphone and muttered to herself, “Well it happened, so you'd damn well better accept it.” Switching the transmission back on, she continued: “We need to find the Ancient ship immediately. I will lead a search team with –”
“No,” said Raan. “This is a Tethyan matter. You will be handed into custody of your own species.”
The ship pulled aside, revealing the Mettlesome waiting behind it. Lanik idly wondered what messages had passed between the two ships. Dear humans, please wait. This ship is an urgent part of galactic affairs …. Okay, you can have it.
“The Mettlesome is hailing us,” said Dunn. Then he muttered to himself, “They still want to arrest us, even after everything that's happened. Unbelievable.”
“We were right, but we still broke a lot of regulations,” said Lanik. “Put them through.”
The captain of the Mettlesome appeared on screen.
Before he could speak, Lanik said, “We surrender. But, before we go further, what happened to IL? Are you investigating them?”
The Mettlesome's captain appeared uncertain for a moment. He said, “IL is gone.”
“Gone?”
“When the news broke, half their executives suddenly vanished, and lots of their capital was removed before we could get to it. All we've got now is a bunch of very confused employees, and a few dry-docks and repair stations with all the computer data deleted.”
IL. The entire company, uprooted like that.
Lanik was no expert on economics, but he knew that couldn't be good for the Solar Navy or the Solar Alliance in general. “Understood,” he said.
The Mettlesome's captain nodded. In a tone that admitted this is just a formality, he said, “Shut down your weapons and prepare to be boarded.”
“Do it,” said Lanik.
The bridge officers were about to reply when the command console warbled. Another ship had just jumped in. According to the co-ordinates, it was on the far side of the star. And according to the visual …
“Do you see that too?” said the Mettlesome's captain.
“Yes,” said Lanik. And like that, he knew there would be no arrest.
It was the Ancient ship.
Chapter 64: Back to Tethya
“That's it,” said Moore, checking the shuttle's console. “Last jump. We're at Tethya.”
The team was ready. They'd spent the final hour checking their weapons and prepping for battle. Srak moved slowly, uncertainly. The plaster on his side still wouldn't say how bad the injury was. But he opened up his giant handgun, checked the insides, ensured it was fully load, then clicked it back into place. Hanson didn't need to ask if was ready to fight.
That just left …
“Yilva?”
“I'm nearly done!” she called. She sat with her helmet still off, amidst a pile of empty coffee cups. Her fur was matted. Her ears drooped.
“We need to leave now.”
“Right. Yes. Yes.” She rubbed her eyes, picked up her tablet and helmet, and scampered over to the shuttle.
Hanson followed her in, and the gull-wing door closed behind them.
“Have we got any visuals?” he asked Moore.
“Hold on. Here you go,” she said. “Here's the main feed.” A small screen on the shuttle's control panel flicked into life, showing the swollen white globe of Tethya's star – and in the background, a tiny blue dot, Tethya itself.
“Shit,” said Moore. “We're almost on top of the thing.” Without needing an order from Hanson, she went back to the controls. The shuttle lifted off the ground and hurtled forward.
“Yilva?” Hanson asked. “I don't want to rush you …”
“Then don't,” murmured Yilva, too buried in her work to be polite. “Working as fast as I can.” She gestured at the screen a couple of times, then began to type again. “We'll get access to the navigational array and the jump engines.”
“Anything else?”
“That's all I had time for,” she said.
Hanson leaned back, assuming that would have to do. Out the window, the black rock walls of dozens of tunnels and chambers raced past at dizzying speed. And yet Moore kept them steady and on-target.
It was hard to tell on the little screen, but they seemed to be slowing. There came a series of massive grinding sounds again, echoing even through the shuttle walls. Then a great mass appeared on the screen. An elongated shape with a diffuse surface that seemed to be made of gigantic feathers layered on top of one another.
The Forge.
It was impossible to tell how big it was. But it was big. It moved away towards the sun. As Hanson watched, it began to open up. The feathers of the surface unfurled, grew longer.
The Forge passed out of view. The Ancient ship was accelerating again. Towards Tethya.
Why Tethya?
For the moment it bought them some extra time.
A deafening boom filled the shuttle. Everything lurched to the side. The wall came flying towards him, and at the last second Hanson managed
to soften the blow. He glanced back to see Yilva trying to retrieve her tablet from under a bench. Srak had braced himself against the wall and caught Agatha. The artificial gravity must have gone off for a moment under the impact.
Moore was still in the pilot's chair. “We've been seen!” she called. The shuttle swung left and right. Out the window Hanson could see blanks raising their weapons – guns and the Ancient spheres.
Moore dodged another shot. Within seconds, they'd left the attackers behind. The shuttle shuddered and leaned to the left. “We've lost an engine,” she said.
Yilva, crouched in the corner, was still working, whispering to herself, “Crumbs, crumbs, crumbs,”
“Final tunnel,” called Moore. She had to slow down as the walls closed in on them, only a few feet away.
They turned a corner. And there, twenty metres ahead, a team of three blanks raised their weapons.
“Get down!” he yelled. A fraction of a second later, there was a boom, and the sapphiroid window radiated cracks. Moore ducked, hands still on the controls, accelerating. A second boom, and the front window shattered. A third came through the remains of the window and tore a hole in the roof.
A couple of seconds for the weapons to recharge. Moore raised her head, singled in on her target, accelerated, and at the last second turned the shuttle to the side.
A sharp crack came from the left wall as it impacted the blanks. Then the nose and tail of the shuttle caught the narrowing walls with a squeal. The gravity went off again, and everything was flung to the side.
Through the shattered front window was just a wall of irregular black rock.
Moore opened the door on one side. “There,” she said, grinning at Hanson. Tunnel blocked with shuttle, just like you wanted. Still, we're about three hundred metres short.”
“Given the circumstances, I can live with that,” said Hanson. And to the team. “Move out!”
*
The Tethyan battleships drifting lazily about the system seemed to wake up as soon as they saw the Ancient ship. Immediately, those closest to Tethya clustered in to surround it. Those patrolling the system further out began closing in on the Ancient ship and its bizarre, gigantic cargo.