As she lowered the cup to her lips, the congregation made the sign of The Infinite on their chests, muttering words of praise to their gods. The Scribe drank from the water, then passed it to Reader Mori by her side. He sipped from it, then the cup began its journey to the rest of the congregation. It was an ancient tradition, a celebration of the endurance of water, even through the calamity of the Fracture.
The service continued to its conclusion when the Scribe met some of the favored followers, blessing them for their devotion, then she and Reader Mori retired to the antechamber behind the cathedral. Usually the Scribe enjoyed these excursions. They were an opportunity to see other cultures, to meet with the leaders of the various families, and to cement the hold of the Church over its followers. But today, her mind was elsewhere. She had received a message from Reader Mallory on board the Draig arkship Gargan. It was a short, coded text, nothing more, but it had haunted the Scribe since its arrival, occupying her every waking moment.
He is here.
That’s all the message had said. Three words. But the Scribe understood the weight of that short sentence. A part of her had never fully believed Gofal’s assurance that Derward was alive. Her doubts had remained, growing over time. But now she was sure, the message confirmed it. After six months of uncertainty she finally knew the answer: Derward was alive and on board the Gargan.
‘Are you well, Scribe?’ Reader Mori asked.
The Scribe smiled, hiding her feelings. ‘Thank you for your concern. This trip has been tiring. I will be glad to return to Icarus.’
‘We leave in two hours,’ Mori confirmed, collecting the ceremonial casket that contained the archive of The Word of The Infinite.
‘Good. Please make all speed. I would like to be underway as soon as possible.’
Reader Mori bowed, leaving the Scribe to complete her prayers. She stood to leave, her aides leading her back towards her ship. As she passed the waiting believers that lined the corridors to the hanger bay, she thought of his face.
He is here.
She smiled, glad of the message, but it hadn’t brought the peace she craved. She had to see him.
GHOSTS AND ECHOES
Commander Ellen Watson played with her wedding ring, pushing it loose and spinning it on her finger. It was a nervous habit that she’d been stuck with since Tobias had died, she realized in a moment of quiet reflection. Had it been so long since the destruction of the Obsidian? Some days it felt like she’d said goodbye to him at breakfast, other days it was as if he was just a whisper from another lifetime. He wasn’t even meant to be there on that fateful day, but one of the other pilots had called in sick that morning, and suddenly Tobias was put on the supply run to the Obsidian. She kissed him goodbye, distracted by the day ahead. She didn’t even look at him, she realized afterwards, too busy focused on her pad as he left. She’d have given anything just to look at him one last time.
An alarm sounded. She pushed the ring back on her finger, completely focused on the flight deck once more.
‘Arkships approaching scanning station six,’ Peterson said. He was her second-in-command, a gangly man in his thirties. He was still inexperienced, but he had a likable nature that made up for his other shortcomings.
‘How many?’ Watson asked.
‘Four signals, closing.’
‘Good. Inform the fleet.’
Peterson carried out his orders, then returned to Watson’s side. ‘Do you think they’ll know yet?’
Watson shook her head. ‘Not yet, but soon. Are they in range?’
‘Thirty seconds.’
They waited in silence as the numbers counted down.
‘Very well,’ Watson said. ‘Detonation is authorized.’
‘Signal sent,’ Peterson replied.
Watson looked up to the flickering echoes on the holograph. The glowing light of the enemy arkships faltered, then seemed to grow in strength.
‘Detonation signal received.’ Peterson said quickly, a grin emerging on his youthful features. ‘I wish I could see it.’
Watson killed his excitement with a glance. ‘Death is not to be celebrated, Peterson. If you could see it up close you would understand that.’
‘Sorry, Commander.’ He checked the console.
‘State of the enemy ships?’
‘They seem to be immobilized. They’ll have taken heavy damage.’
‘Thank you,’ Watson said icily.
Peterson understood her tone and retreated to the far side of the flight deck.
Alone, Watson stared into the ghostly light of the holograph. They had fallen into their trap, investigating the scanner errors, hoping to find their fleet. But Watson had moved on, taking out a narrow tunnel of scanners, carving a pathway towards the shipyard, the Addington fleet hiding in her wake. By the time the enemy realized their mistake, Watson and the alliance fleet would be kicking down the door of Carter & Grey.
She should have been pleased, but the truth was she would have liked to have seen it as well, to see them pay for her husband’s death. She didn’t like this arm’s length warfare, she preferred to see her enemy’s face. She glanced up to the windows. Out there, in the dust and fog of Cloud of Tranquility, the Draig arkships floundered, their people injured or dying. As the Caerleon continued towards its target, the light on the holograph became uncertain, the distant signal losing strength.
Commander Watson heard the metallic ping of her wedding ring as it fell from her finger and bounced off the hard floor. She’d been playing with it again, distracted by her thoughts. As she picked it up she re-read at the engraving on the inside: Love you, Stupid.
She smiled to herself and placed it back on her finger, balling her hand into a fist.
ANOTHER DAY
Derward watched as the ships arrived in the Carter & Grey docking station. Each one was different, executive shuttles from various families and organizations. He recognized the Li Zhang crest on the side of one of them, the Clan Sinclair’s emblem on another.
‘What are they all doing here?’ he wondered out loud.
Beside him, Keres Mallory replied, ‘The board meeting. Valine’s Chair now.’
They’d been lucky to get through the docking ring without being stopped. The Gargan security had seemed more concerned with people coming onto the ship than those leaving. Derward and Mallory watched and waited, choosing their moment to join a group of mechanics on their way through the docking hatch to the Carter & Grey shipyard. No one had seemed too concerned to see two more faces passing by, and Derward and Keres had walked off the Draig arkship without a questioning glance. Luck was on their side today.
‘Could we take one of those shuttles?’ Keres wondered, looking down at the growing collection of docked ships.
Derward shook his head. ‘We’re not leaving.’
‘We’re not?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘But . . . but I thought–’
‘I’m sorry,’ Derward said. ‘We’ll go soon, but first I want to find out what Valine is doing.’
Keres stared at him. ‘You want revenge, don’t you? You’re going to kill her.’
Derward hesitated. She knew him better than he had realized. ‘Yes.’
‘This is our chance to get out of here, to escape. Don’t be a fool!’
‘I’ve been a fool all my life,’ he said with a smile, trying to diffuse the tension.
Keres looked down, her eyes glistening with tears, and he saw that he had let her down too often.
‘You’re right,’ he conceded. ‘This is our chance. Revenge can wait for another day.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, her voice trembling.
He took her hand and led her along the walkway, plotting the best way to escape. ‘They have a dampening field in place out there, stops ships using their Cube drive until they’re clear of the shipyards. It stops unwanted people arriving unannounced.’
‘Or leaving quickly?’
Derward nodded, his jaw tensing. The pain i
n his body was still there, hidden by the urgency of their situation, but pulling at his thoughts. He tensed his fist, trying to focus. ‘If we took a shuttle they’d be able to shoot us down before we left the shipyards.’
‘So, we can’t leave?’ Keres said, a new determination in her eyes.
‘No,’ he replied. ‘Unless . . .’
‘Unless what? Do you know a way out of here?’
He shook his head, feeling tired. He couldn’t think anymore. His remaining eye closed, and a wave of fatigue pulled him to the floor.
‘Derward!’
He could hear her voice, but it was distant and muffled. He felt her shake him, but the lure of the darkness was too great.
It seemed like an age passed, then he felt a sting of pain to his face. He opened his eye, trying to make sense of what he saw. Keres was looking down on him.
‘You passed out,’ she said.
‘Did . . . did you slap me?’
‘Maybe just a little,’ she said with a guilty smile. ‘Been wanting to do it for years.’
He laughed. It was a forgotten noise, something he hadn’t heard in months, but as his voice echoed around the space he felt a renewed purpose consume him. He pulled himself up, ignoring the pain and the fatigue.
‘Come on,’ Derward muttered as he took her arm. ‘We’ve got lots to do.’
GRAVITY
Wynn checked the time, feeling the tension in his stomach grow. It had taken longer than anticipated to get through the station’s security protocols, and now they seemed to be lost.
‘Trust me,’ Gofal said to Bara, ‘this is the right way.’
‘You said that at the last turn.’ Bara replied, her voice clipped. ‘You were wrong.’
‘It is not my fault if the station’s plans do not tally with reality. You should complain to the architect, not me.’
Bara muttered under her breath, pushing ahead of Gofal. The corridor was deserted, as they had expected. This section was closed for routine cleaning and maintenance. It was also three floors above the meeting room where – according to Lady Addington and Harrison Miller – the board of Carter & Grey would be gathering to discuss business with their new Chair, Valtais Valine.
Bara stopped at an elevator door and turned back to Gofal and Wynn. ‘Is this the one?’
Gofal checked the code on the elevator panel. ‘Yes, this is it. It should be inactive.’
‘So, all we have to do is climb down three levels.’ Wynn said, opening the tool kit he was carrying.
‘The elevator and the grav lines inside are inactive,’ Gofal confirmed as he removed a panel and plugged into the console beneath.
‘And you won’t have to climb, Wynn. You’ll float.’ Bara said grimly.
‘That’s not quite true,’ Gofal responded as the elevator doors juddered apart. ‘The micro-gravity of the station’s mass, plus the pull of the grav lines built into the floors either side of the shaft, make the space an eddy of tiny gravity fields.’
Bara took the panel from Gofal’s hand and dropped it into the shaft. It drifted in the air, not falling, just gliding slowly towards the far wall. ‘There: floating,’ she said with a satisfied smile.
‘Well, no, it’s not,’ Gofal responded.
Wynn grinned, put his hand on the bot’s arm. ‘I’d give up, if I were you.’
Gofal shrugged, then he carried on with his work, checking the control panel. ‘I have access to the entry logs for the meeting room below. There are at least twelve people already in the room. The meeting has begun. Valine rarely travels without security. Some of them may be guards.’
‘This isn’t going to be easy,’ Bara said, strapping a harness to her chest.’
‘We are relying on a great many things to happen at the same time,’ Gofal replied.
‘True,’ Wynn conceded. ‘But we have a man on the inside.’
THE DEAL
Valine was late for the meeting. She didn’t object to making them wait for her, but today her poor timekeeping was not her decision. She was waiting for the old fool Harrison Miller. He had insisted on a private talk before the main meeting, but now he was interfering with the timing of her plans, and her patience was wearing thin.
She gave up and marched towards the door, just as Harrison Miller’s identity flashed on the screen by the entrance to her room.
‘This had better be quick,’ she said, letting Miller in.
He waited until the door closed before speaking. ‘Valtais, you know I am a most loyal member of the board, and an advocate for the Draig Empire.’
‘What do you want, Miller?’ Valine asked curtly.
‘I have information . . .’
She waited, her impatience clear.
‘You see,’ Miller continued. ‘I’m a well-travelled man, and it pays to keep in with other people. It’s good for business and, from time to time, I hear talk that proves useful . . . profitable.’
Valine smiled, starting to understand.
‘Y’see, I have some urgent information,’ Miller continued, ‘the sort of information that could save your life . . . valuable information, if you get my drift.’
‘Yes, I understand. So, we come back to my earlier question: What do you want?’
‘Exclusive rights to trade my company’s parts to all Draig affiliated ships.’
‘That’s a big ask.’
‘It’s good information.’
Valine thought for a moment. ‘It’s hard to make a trade for something I have neither seen or heard. I have only your word that this information is as valuable as you hope.’
Harrison Miller began to smile. His teeth were crooked and stained. ‘How much do you value your life?
She hid her contempt while she calculated the best way to control this man. ‘Presuming the information has value, I would agree to a limited exclusive contract.’
‘Limited?’
‘One year,’ she said firmly.
Miller shook his head, sitting in one of the soft chairs. ‘No, no, that’s not long enough. We’d have to invest in our infrastructure to fulfill such demand. We’d be turning our back on a lot of other clients to keep you happy. We’d need a minimum of five years to make it worthwhile.’
‘Three years, with a clause to renew for another three on the same terms. And you will be exclusive. No other clients.’
‘I couldn’t do that.’
‘You’ll make a fortune. You could retire in three years and live a life of luxury.’
‘No, it’d have to be five years, I’m sorry.’
Valine sighed. ‘No, I’m sorry. It’s such a shame . . .’
‘A shame?’ Miller asked nervously.
‘Yes, a shame. That you’ll live out your remaining years in prison.’
‘Prison? Now, hang on!’
‘You come to me, the leader of the Draig Empire and the Chair of the board of Carter & Grey, claiming to have evidence of a plot against my life, yet you do not give up this information. You wish to trade for it.’ She tutted, looking down at him with contempt. ‘Surely, only a traitor would think in such a selfish way.’
‘Traitor? Me? No, not a bit of it. Three years sounds fine, yes, it’ll be fine.’
‘Two years.’
Harrison Miller swallowed hard. ‘What?’
‘The deal is two years.’
Anger, then resentment, and finally sadness flashed over his old face, and he offered his hand to Valine.
‘Now,’ Valine said with satisfaction. ‘Tell me what you know.’
LUCY
Faron Dulac shivered, fastening his flight jacket tight around his neck. He loved these old TK-13 fighters, but they never kept the heat in. This one was over fifty years old and lacked the luxury and technological advances of a newer fighter, but he refused to be parted from Lucy.
She had belonged to his father, his personal fighter during the long Pérez war. When Faron had turned sixteen, and his father gained a modern replacement, Lucy came down to him. Since then, Faron had f
lown her whenever he could. Many of her systems were mechanical, giving the pilot a sense of direct control that was missing in most small ships. When Faron pulled on the control yoke, he felt as if he was touching space itself. He and the ship were one, alone in the entire Cluster.
But Bara still plagued his thoughts. He pulled the control yoke towards him and the fighter swung upwards, pushing him into his seat, forcing him to focus on something else.
The ship’s com was alive with chatter. He’d broken formation, causing some alarm to the squadron leader.
‘All fine here,’ Faron reported, leveling off. ‘Just putting Lucy through her paces.’
‘Confirmed,’ the squadron leader replied, sounding irritated.
Faron smiled to himself, checking the readouts on the panels in front of him. His fuel was lower than it should be, perhaps a–
The cockpit filled with an alarm siren, swiftly followed by an automated voice. ‘Pull up. Pull up.’
Faron looked through the curved canopy of his fighter, into the advancing wall of an arkship.
‘Inbound hostile!’ the squadron leader cried as Faron twisted the control yoke, firing his braking thrusters to try to slow his approach. ‘Just appeared out of Cube transit.’
‘Damned thing’s right on top of me!’ he managed, his words slurring as the g-force pulled at his face. He couldn’t see space anymore, just the expanse of hull, getting closer and closer. The engines whined, pushing vibrations through his body. He could barely hear the alarms now, just the roar of Lucy coupled with the rush of blood pumping past his ears.
Ahead, a tower rose from the body of the arkship, and Faron turned to avoid it, diving towards a canyon of observation windows. His fighter skimmed over the glass, a blur of light against the dark hull, then it began to rise, pulling away from the lure of the arkship.
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