Arkship Alliance

by Niel Bushnell

  CONVERGENCE

  ‘Cube transit complete. Narwoulf shipyards are dead head.’

  Wynn was studying the holograph when he heard the announcement. As his body adjusted to the return of gravity, he unclipped his harness and walked towards the windows. He gripped the handrail, feeling unsteady, waiting until he could focus properly. The lights of the shipyards were distant points, without form. He activated the window’s zoom and the Narwoulf shipyards revealed themselves to him.

  The main structure formed a vast ring, turning slowly as most ships once did before artificial gravity lines became the norm. Around the central hub were numerous construction yards, lattice-like shelters with ships inside. The largest of the yards were found towards the center of the hub, where several new arkships were being built. Some of the yards were enclosed, reserved for those clients who preferred secrecy and discretion. Further out, Wynn saw smaller yards. These were still enormous, but in the shadow of the arkship construction yards they seemed modest. These were home to the dreadnoughts, battleships and cargo carriers. Outside of the main hub were docking arms that stretched out into space. At the end of each one was a cluster of smaller yards and ports. Here, frigates, cruisers and merchant vessels were being made. Wynn zoomed in closer on these, wondering if one of them might be a good replacement for Lexica. Bara had been so quiet since her return, lost in her own thoughts. Perhaps a tour of the shipyards might lift her spirits? Yes, if there was time after the negotiations.

  ‘Magnificent, isn’t it?’ Commander Watson said, standing beside him at the windows.

  ‘Amazing.’

  ‘Wait till you see it close up. Some of it dates back to the time of the Fracture.’

  The view was spectacular, an intricate triumph over the wilds of the Cluster. Here, mankind prevailed in spite of the cataclysm of the Fracture. Even though it was driven by function, the shipyards were a brutal work of art. Suddenly, Wynn felt a pang of sadness.

  ‘Still no sign of Gofal?’ he asked the Commander.

  ‘We won’t stop searching until he’s found.’

  Wynn sighed. ‘He would have loved this.’

  She handed him a pad. ‘Cube transit shutdown completed. Everything looks good. This is the list of Narwoulf’s command staff. We’re clear to approach and dock. Administrator Raiker is keen to meet you. He wants to know everything about what happened at Carter & Grey. And we’ve had a message from the Mowbray Manor.’

  Wynn scrolled through the pad, half listening. He stopped and looked up at the Commander. ‘Mowbray Manor?’

  ‘Arkship of the House of Addington. Lady Addington wants to meet you.’

  ‘They’re docked here?’

  Commander Watson nodded, pointing to an elegant arkship docked high above the central hub. Its hull was red oxide, with a polished sheen that caught the light. ‘That’s the Mowbray Manor.’

  One of the flight deck officers called to the Commander, leaving Wynn alone at the windows. Outside, on the other side of the great structure, a new star flickered into existence. Alarms began to sound across the flight deck, and Wynn looked to his Commander for answers.

  ‘Arkship, inbound!’ Watson shouted. ‘It’s the Melrakki. It’s Draig.’

  TRADE

  Gofal watched the Scribe as she walked towards the tiny shuttle. Even though he knew she was coming, he was still able to feel surprise at her approach. Separating his foreknowledge into a sub-drive of his cerebral matrix had allowed for such contradictions within his thought processes. He knew what was going to happen, yet he could still feel suspense and relief, anticipation and surprise. It was the only way he knew how to deal with such data.

  ‘You’re ready to go?’ the Scribe asked, looking over the shuttle.

  Gofal walked from the diagnostic panel to greet her. ‘Yes. I am grateful for your work to free me.’

  She looked at him with an inquisitive stare. ‘Didn’t you always know it would happen?’

  ‘Yes, but that does not diminish my gratitude.’

  The Scribe laughed. ‘What will you do now?’

  ‘I will rejoin the Kenric fleet. And you?’

  The Scribe hesitated, as if taken aback by the question.

  They were alone on the landing platform. Her aides waited at a respectful distance, out of earshot.

  ‘I’ll do what I always do,’ she replied at last. ‘I have a Church to run.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Gofal bowed respectfully, then turned towards the shuttle’s entry ramp.

  ‘Wait,’ the Scribe shouted. ‘We had a deal, remember?’

  Gofal turned back towards her. ‘How could I forget?’

  He walked to rejoin her, feeling an odd tension in his mind.

  The Scribe closed the gap between them, looking up into his glowing blue eyes. ‘I agreed to help you. I argued for your freedom. If not for me, you’d be in a dozen pieces, resting on a shelf in the archive. I did my part . . .’

  ‘Yes, indeed you did,’ Gofal said slowly. ‘I have given our last discussion much thought, and perhaps I was hasty to agree to your terms.’

  ‘But you did agree.’

  ‘Yes, I did, and you know how dangerous it could be for me to divulge information about the future.’

  ‘I know that, we talked about it, a lot.’

  ‘And I enjoyed our discussions. You have a keen mind.’

  Her eyes glistened, and Gofal sensed a note of desperation in her voice. ‘We had a deal. I’ve given you your freedom, Gofal. Now it’s your turn.’

  ‘Scribe, have you truly considered the ramifications of your request?’

  ‘Damn it, yes!’

  Gofal monitored her raised heart rate, the increase in perspiration. This was important to her. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I will answer your question: He is alive.’

  The Scribe covered her face, but Gofal heard her soft sobs. Her relief was palpable.

  ‘You’re not lying to me?’ she asked.

  ‘I deceive, I avoid, but I do not lie. Derward Tarkkail is still alive.’

  ‘Where? Where is he?’

  ‘Our trade is complete. I have answered your question. Any further information must remain in the future. I will not debate this further. I would choose the shelves of your archive first.’

  The Scribe nodded, wiping her face. ‘Very well. You are free to go. Thank you.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘You abducted me and brought me here, but I have enjoyed our time together. I see now that there is much I can learn from you and the Church. When the current crisis is over I would like to return here, to study with you. I would like to learn the history of the Church. I wish to know all that is known about the Infinite Gods.’

  The Scribe laughed. ‘You are no ordinary bot, are you?’

  ‘That is true, you are not the first to notice.’

  ‘We would be honored to have you,’ she said.

  Gofal turned to the shuttle, feeling a sense of grief and loss. He did lie. He had to. It was a mercy. The weight of his knowledge would crush them. As he boarded the ramp, Gofal turned to look at the Scribe one last time. Such a fine mind, such clear thoughts. He was truly sorry he would never see her again.

  ENCOUNTER

  ‘All hands, battle stations!’

  ‘Contact Narwoulf Command,’ Wynn shouted to Commander Watson. ‘We’ll only fire on their orders.’

  ‘Sir?’ Watson checked.

  ‘We’ll not start a firefight in their yard. But if the Draig arkship attacks, we will defend ourselves.’

  Wynn glanced up from the operations map to see Bara coming towards him.

  ‘I heard the alarms,’ she said. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Draig arkship just appeared on the other side of the dock.’ Wynn replied.

  Bara cursed, pacing the deck. He knew what she was thinking: Lexica was gone. She had nothing to do.

  ‘Where’s Dulac?’ she asked.

  ‘Right behind us. The Evanine is already he
re.’

  ‘So, we outgun them,’ Bara replied, checking the holograph.

  ‘There’s only the one Draig arkship so far. But they have a habit of multiplying.’

  Commander Watson handed a com unit to Wynn. ‘Narwoulf Command: Administrator Raiker for you.’

  Wynn took the com. ‘This is Prince Halstead of the House of Kenric.’

  ‘Raiker here. This is neutral space. You will not fight here.’

  ‘We have no intention to fight, but we will defend ourselves, if we have to. We are here to speak with you.’

  ‘Why is the Draig vessel here?’

  ‘I don’t know. Ask them.’

  ‘Stand by.’ The com cut off.

  ‘Narwoulf are launching fighters,’ Watson noted.

  ‘Towards us?’ Bara asked.

  The holograph showed a fleet of flashing icons, spreading out between the Caerleon and the Melrakki.

  ‘Precautions,’ Watson said, working the com unit. ‘I’ll try patching into the main public com channel.’

  The system fizzed and crackled, then a distant voice could be heard.

  ‘. . . is Narwoulf Command. State your intentions.’

  ‘That’s Raiker again,’ Watson said in a hushed tone.

  A new voice crackled over the com. The woman said: ‘This is Commodore Nilsdatter of the Draig arkship Melrakki. We are here as a gesture of peace.’

  ‘Peace?’ Raiker said skeptically. ‘Is that what you told Carter & Grey?’

  ‘The board requested our presence at their shipyard. It is an internal matter, not your concern.’

  ‘When a fellow shipbuilder is taken over it is very much our concern. You are not welcome here.’

  ‘The Valtais Valine has sent me to convey her greetings of peace to you,’ Nilsdatter said, her voice becoming irritated, ‘but you have launched your ships against us.’

  ‘I repeat, you are not welcome here. You are within our perimeter. Melrakki, turn around or be fired upon.’

  There was a tense pause. Static filled the air.

  ‘Narwoulf Command, stand down your fighters, or we will be forced to defend ourselves.’

  ‘This is your final warning: turn around and leave Narwoulf space immediately or face the consequences.’

  Wynn and Bara stared at the holograph. The giant shape of the Melrakki continued to advance. The fleet of tiny fighters moved towards it.

  ‘Draig arkship Melrakki . . .’ The voice belonged to Administrator Raiker. ‘Under the articles of the Convention of Janus, we are exercising our right to defend ourselves. This is your final warning. You have thirty seconds to comply or we will fire. Turn around.’

  ‘We are the Draig Empire, here in a peaceful gesture, and this is how you respond?’

  ‘Turn around, Melrakki.’

  ‘We do not answer to you.’

  ‘Turn around or we will open fire.’

  ‘You would not dare!’

  ‘Ten seconds.’

  Commander Watson checked the holograph. ‘She’s powering up her defenses.’

  ‘Five seconds.’

  ‘Picking up launch signals from the Melrakki,’ an officer shouted.

  Wynn stared at Commander Watson. ‘Power up the Gilgore grid and move us towards the Melrakki. Tell the Administrator we stand ready to assist.’

  The holograph lit up with brief flashes as the Melrakki’s missiles found Narwoulf’s first line of defense.

  The com began to bristle with chatter as the Draig arkship launched its fighters. Out of the windows, the expanse of the shipyard erupted in the glow of explosions.

  ‘Narwoulf Command, this is Commander Watson on the Ark Royal Caerleon. Do you need assistance?’

  There was a long pause, then the Administrator responded. ‘Ark Royal Caerleon, your assistance is gratefully accepted.’

  Watson smiled, turning to one of her officers. ‘Contact the Evanine, they can follow us in. And prep the fighters.’

  Bara walked to the windows, staring at the Draig arkship. ‘They don’t stand a chance.’

  ‘No sign of Cube transit points?’ Wynn checked with one of the flight deck officers.

  ‘None so far.’

  He joined Bara at the windows. ‘For once we might just come out on top.’

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, looking unconvinced. He returned to the operations map and activated the com. ‘Draig arkship: this is Prince Halstead on board the Ark Royal Caerleon. We stand ready to defend the Narwoulf shipyards against your attack. Stand down.’

  ‘Do you expect a reply?’ Watson whispered.

  Wynn smiled, shaking his head. ‘I just want them to know who’s about to kick them.’

  Commander Watson grinned. ‘Wave one is ready.’

  ‘Be my guest.’

  The arkship shuddered from the vibration of the missile launches. Wynn watched as they trailed towards the Melrakki, becoming invisible until they tore into the enemy arkship. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction after so many losses at the hands of the so-called Draig Empire.

  ‘Wave two ready?’ Wynn checked.

  ‘Ready and waiting,’ Watson replied.

  Wynn nodded, and the arkship shook again.

  ‘She’s turning,’ Bara said, pointing at the windows. ‘She’s retreating!’

  Wynn checked the holograph, confirming Bara’s observation. A cheer went up as the flight deck officers celebrated.

  The arkship Melrakki limped away, leaving a trail of gas in its wake.

  ‘She’s powering up her Cube drive, ‘Watson said.

  ‘Let her go,’ Wynn said with a relieved smile.

  The Melrakki flickered then disappeared.

  ‘Thank you for your help.’ The voice on the com belonged to Administrator Raiker. ‘I look forward to meeting you soon, Prince Halstead.’

  ‘And you,’ Wynn replied. He turned to Bara. ‘Finally, things are going our way.’

  A cry went up. ‘D-Matt!’

  ‘Dark Matter bomb detected!’

  ‘They must have left it behind,’ Wynn gasped.

  Outside, it seemed as if the stars suddenly disappeared. A circle of blackness engulfed the far side of the shipyards, then collapsed into itself, taking part of the hub with it.

  ‘All decks, brace for D-Matt shockwave!’

  Wynn took Bara’s hand, their eyes locked on each other. The noise of the flight deck boiled away, leaving only silence, and a terrible sense of dread.

  Then the wave hit.

  THE DOOR

  Derward coughed, tasting blood in his mouth. He spat into the gutter in the corner of his cell, watching as the red phlegm snaked down the drain.

  He tried to decide if it was morning or evening. He really wasn’t sure any more. He was so weak and tired. They were breaking him. He couldn’t hold out much longer, and he wished it was over. It was only the thought of the Scribe that was keeping him going. He pictured her face and he muttered, ‘I will see you again. I promise.’

  Derward began to sob, unable to control his outburst. He glanced up at the cameras, knowing they would be watching him. They would see his weakness and exploit it. He had to control himself before–

  There was something wrong with the cameras. There were two black domes fixed in opposite corners of the ceiling. Each one had a tiny green light on its side, two never-moving stars, the only things he could see when they turned off the lights, trying to convince him it was nighttime. But the fragile emerald lights had gone out. Did that mean the cameras were switched off? He dismissed the idea; it was just more mind games.

  Derward staggered back to his bed and rested on the stinking mattress. His breathing was labored, rattled and sore. He coughed again, trying to clear his lungs, but the effort sent needles of pain coursing through his chest. He curled up, trying to rest, hoping they wouldn’t come for him just yet.

  Footsteps. Outside of his door.

  He heard the familiar tones of the keypad on the other side of the door. Six butt
ons, the same sequence as normal. Then the door clicked open.

  They were coming for him. He had to be strong. He sat up, preparing himself.

  Nothing. No hands about his body, no orders from angry guards.

  He looked up to the open door. There was no one there.

  More games, he presumed. Even so, he stood, edging towards the doorway. The light from the opening stung his remaining eye, forcing him to squint. There was someone there, in the corridor beyond his cell.

  A hand reached out and pulled at his shoulder. Then, as he stumbled into the corridor, he saw a face. It was a young woman’s, slender, pale skin with short blonde hair. Did he know her?

  Derward shook himself, trying to focus. ‘Keres?’

  She hugged him, and he felt weaker than he had in all the time he’d been held captive. It was as if she had stolen his resolve, and he found himself falling to the floor.

  ‘You have to get up,’ she said, pulling a baggy shirt over his shoulders.

  He staggered to the wall, using it for support. It was cool on his skin, refreshing. He looked at her again, making certain. Yes, it was Reader Keres Mallory, here in his cell.

  ‘Did they send you?’ he asked.

  She shook her head, closing the door to his cell, offering him a pair of trousers. ‘We have to go, now!’

  He stood, suppressing his hope. This was another game, that’s all, he told himself. They were testing him, giving him what he wanted. Then they would break him.

  ‘I won’t play, not today,’ he managed.

  Keres stared at him, then she pulled at his arm, and he was too weak to resist.

  THE WAVE

  The flight deck of the Ark Royal Caerleon went black, then Bara began to fall. She braced herself, expecting to hit something, but in the faint flicker of the dying consoles, she saw that it wasn’t just her: everything was falling. They were falling towards a black hole formed by the dark matter bomb.

  Outside, the shipyards’ main hub was being torn apart, the fragments falling into the heart of the implosion. The arkship was also in its wake now, turning and listing under the distortion eddies.