Mirror of Stone

by Corie J. Weaver

  “Oh.” Eleanor fell quiet.

  “The Council is preparing a statement right now,” Rebecca said. “It will explain things have changed, order our captains to stand down, return home.”

  “After being whipped into a fury and held prisoner by the monsters they’ve been told are going to destroy our homes, I don’t think any of our captains are ready to be reasonable,” said Adam.

  Eleanor raised her hand. “Captains. Bullfinch would be.”

  Adam cocked his head to the side. “True... but we’d need more than just his ship to destroy thirty. We’d need a fleet of our own and we just don’t have one.”

  “Actually, we might. The Tamkeri aren’t the only fleet out there. Jake?”

  Jake smiled then pulled up a commlink, put it on a screen.

  Eleanor waved at the room. “Don’t we need to go to the other place?”

  “No need for secrets now, girl. We’re done with that. If we pull this off, we’ll need to make a center of operations anyhow. No reason not to make it here.”

  “Grandfather?”

  “Going to call a man, I’ve told you about him. He came to my wedding.”

  Adam fixed his eyes to the screen, anxious to meet someone else from the veteran’s underground. And his spine straightened before his eyes understood, when the screen resolved to show the features of DS Moore.

  “Jake, good to see you.”

  Bets among Adam’s fellow trainees would now be settled, if he told anyone. DS Moore could smile, despite all evidence to the contrary. And as easily as he had talked to the alien bugs, his grandfather began to chat with the devil.

  “So, how’s Mary?”

  “Good, good. Keeping busy with the new grandkids.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Had to straighten out that boy of yours, Jake, hope you don’t mind.”

  “Nah, he’s tough. Tougher now, I’m sure.”

  The two old men laughed, and Adam’s wide eyes slowly became slits.

  Throughout the fleet captains found themselves overtaken, overthrown by old men and women they’d passed on the chain of command years previously. Master Sergeants, Gunners, Instructors. They had planned well, learned their lessons from the last mutiny. And now they struck.

  In an hour they held fifteen ships.

  “The best we can do right now, Jake.”

  “It’ll do. It’ll have to. Anyone hurt?”

  “None of ours. First mate of the Alexio got antsy, had to wing her, but she’ll be fine.”

  “Good. Not the kid’s fault. They don’t know any better.”

  Adam helped Jake and Shivuk open more windows, and patched feeds from each ship’s screens into the room so they could see the results of the battle.

  Adam’s fists clenched. I can’t believe we’re stuck here, so far away. “They’re going to settle everything, and we’re not a part of it.”

  Jake shook his head. “They wouldn’t be settling anything if we hadn’t been here, stirring up trouble. No one can be in two places at once. Besides, there’s more work here to do. Hand me that link.”

  From all around they heard the Tamkeri warning broadcast. “All ships will remain gathered. Do not move unless you have been contacted. The results will be dire. Contacted ships, proceed.”

  Tamker ships moved, adjusted, sub-divided the penned ships. A gap in the net opened, widened. Adam’s mind flashed briefly to the destruction of the Knute and held his breath until the last of the fifteen ships now commanded by the mutineers were free of the trap.

  They hurtled away towards Tamker. He checked the time. Less than an hour to go.

  Eleanor and Shivuk had sent signals to Tamker, burst after burst that an attack was coming, and although there was a plan to defend against it, everyone should go inside, return to the chambers that had sheltered them through the last solar flares. She didn’t know if it would do any good, but she hoped.

  She had not said anything about Mikka. Soon enough. Bunyir would notice the absence from her side. Now her head spun. All about her the feeds from the commandeered ships showed Ladril, no, Tamker, growing bigger, filling the screen. The pastel clouds swirled before her, and her heart clenched thinking of the people far below.

  Then the ships turned on their tails, rotated to face the projected approach of the drone ships, as precise as if they had practiced this for years. As they spun identifying tags sprang up on the screens over the silver flashes of each ship, then minimized again.

  For a breath, they waited. Then instruments found the drones, locked, and from every bridge she heard voices.

  “Go!”

  It was like being in the Tamkeri communication room, but worse, a thousand times worse, as this time she could do nothing, there was no part for her to play but that of spectator. She pressed between Jake and Shivuk and kept her eyes fixed to the screen.

  The ships reached the drones and broke apart, targeted, chased, searched for clear shots. And destroyed the gas-laden drones, one by one, safely above the atmosphere. The screens cleared, and all she could see was the silver of the ships. Not a one lost.

  Next to her Jake muttered, “27, 28, 29...”

  The ships broke apart and raced back towards Tamker. A single drone had slipped through the gauntlet and shattered like glass into pieces.

  She leapt towards the screens. “No!”

  The ships swooped around and down, chased the twelve missiles, the bridge chatter silent now.

  Before, the defense had been precise, elegant; now the skill of the pilots forced a smile through the fear. The ships spun, danced against the dark sky as they hunted. One by one the missiles were destroyed. The screens surrounding Eleanor stilled.

  All but one.

  The pastel swirls of Tamker filled the screen of the Kingfisher as it dived after the lone escapee. The missile reached the upper edge of the atmosphere, the human ship screamed after it.

  “Too close, too close,” muttered Adam.

  The missile exploded, white against the pastel clouds. Eleanor sagged against Shivuk. “Surely that’s high enough... the gas won’t reach...”

  The screen of the Kingfisher showed no change. It plowed through the clouds, leveled out briefly, then went blank.

  She spun to Adam. “What happened?”

  He pressed one hand over his eyes and rocked for a moment before answering her. “The dive was too steep. They couldn’t recover. With luck it was a sparsely populated area.”

  Jake hid his face in his hands. Another screen flickered and Eleanor flinched. Bullfinch appeared, his face covered in sweat. “All clear.”

  Eleanor rose, legs trembling. “Thank you. We offer our thanks to all of you. Please, come to the surface. You’ll be treated as the heroes you are. All of you.”

  The corner of his mouth curved, and he nodded. “I’d like that very much. I’ll look forward to it. It’ll be a while though, there’s much to be done first.”

  Eleanor nodded. “I know you have things to do, but whenever you can, please let me know when you’d like to visit Tamker. We won’t forget what you’ve done for us. And I did promise you.”

  A whisper of the curiosity she had seen on the Galileo returned to his eyes.

  Then a flash of light covered the screen and Bullfinch’s head dissolved in a red mist.

  Before Eleanor could cry out Houghton appeared on the screen, screaming. He didn’t seem to notice the feed, ignored them, and they had no choice but to watch as he and the mob with him gunned down the bridge crew.

  The vein at Houghton temple bulged, pulsed as he shouted. “Traitors! All of you, traitors!”

  As Houghton’s mob took control of the bridge they shoved the bodies out of the way, manned the controls. And then noticed the feed. Their screen on C
laro went blank.

  Moore appeared. “Jake, what the hell? The Galileo dropped out of the comm net.”

  The answer came before Jake could explain, as the Galileo opened fire on the other human ships.

  Two were struck before they were able to maneuver and return fire. The group on Claro could see Moore’s bridge on the Napoli shake from the impact, heard the frantic yells of the crew, yet could do nothing.

  The Galileo fired wildly, and another ship reeled away, one side laid open. The Napoli angled away, then curved back again, diving from above.

  “Keep in her blind spot, man,” Jake muttered. But Moore wasn’t listening.

  The screens displayed Moore’s skill. The other ships backed away, yelled for him to stop, as Moore drove the Napoli deep into the Galileo’s port side. Eleanor could hear the moan of metal on metal from the Napoli’s pickup.

  Then Moore glanced at the screen, reached out, and flicked it off.

  From other screens around the room the nightmare continued. Moore’s ship pierced the Galileo like a slanted cross and explosions fired, one by one, down the length of the speared ship.

  Adam whispered. “The engines. Oh, no.”

  Static washed over the screens surrounding them then showed nothing in the area but shards of metal and debris. Both ships were gone.

  Tears streamed down Jake’s face. “What am I going to tell Mary?”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “I know we need to negotiate that treaty.” Tepper had sent Rebecca to their quarters as a messenger, but now stood in the doorway himself. Adam wondered if the man had slept at all since the previous day. “But please be patient, it’s going to be chaos here for a while. We never knew how much information she held back.”

  “She knew how she wanted things done.” Jake said. “Only way to do that was to do it herself. Mind you, not saying it was the right way, but I think we’ve all had days like that.”

  “Days, sure. But this was decades...”

  Eleanor stepped forward. “I understand you have things to do. But you must understand we still are waiting. Perhaps the Council could agree to meet with us later, a temporary suspension of all hostilities, details to be arranged later?”

  Tepper nodded. “That’s more likely to get approval right now.”

  “Go rest.” She held the door for him. “We’ll wait a bit longer, and you’re not going to do us any good falling asleep in the middle of things.”

  Adam broke the silence after Tepper left. “I still don’t understand how she could keep a secret as big as the Tamkeri.”

  “I think in an odd way they helped.” Eleanor resettled herself on the couch. “The Tamkeri didn’t want to repeat their history, they wanted to be cautious of their actions this time. So they waited, tried to negotiate. They just can argue about the right action for longer than we do.” She glanced at Shivuk. “The cloud cover on Tamker made it impossible to spot activity from passing ships – even from Travbon.”

  Rebecca chimed in. “From the beginning Olympia had a loyal core of people, scientists and officers with similar political views. They helped explain any signals coming from the planet as electrical storms; made sure that after the survey the planet was marked as dangerous. People avoided it. And what you’re not looking for, you don’t see.”

  “That doesn’t bother me.” Jake twirled the stem of his pipe. “What I don’t get is how you people developed space travel when you can’t even see the stars through all that cloud.”

  “Just because you can’t see in, doesn’t mean we can’t see out, elder.” Shivuk said.

  Jake put the pipe away unlit and grinned. “Broader spectrum of vision, eh? Looking forward to figuring out what other tricks you’ve got.”

  “I will hold a formal dinner of thanks for your cooperation.” Shivuk met Eleanor’s eyes. “Your presence would be most refreshing.”

  By the second day, everyone was exhausted. Adam had just closed his eyes on the couch when he heard someone approach. Eleanor stood next to him, face paint removed, dressed in the tan uniform Rebecca had brought.

  “I promised you a talk. I guess we have time now.”

  After she finished speaking, Adam brought forth the necklace from his pocket.

  “It was in the things recovered with me when I collapsed.”

  Eleanor didn’t respond. He raised his eyes from the twisted wings to her face. Tears threatened, but her control won.

  “I’m sorry.” He held the necklace out to her.

  “I am, too.” She took it, then grasped his hand.

  On the afternoon of the third day, Jake, Adam and Eleanor returned through the now familiar halls to their room, exhausted from the constant arguing of the Council. Rebecca was back at work and Shivuk had announced he needed to coordinate matters with his own fleet. Eleanor teased that he was simply tired of dealing with the finger-pointing on the council, as each member blamed the others for collaboration with Olympia and her plans.

  But this would be the last day they needed to attend and Adam was glad of it. Formal treaty negotiations would commence after a month’s respite for the humans to put their house in order.

  Adam heard a thump behind them in the corridor and whirled. Sullivan, unshaved, uniform dirty, crouched behind them. He had aged almost past recognition in the three days since Olympia’s death. A service hatch swung open from the ceiling above him, but Adam barely registered the movement, his eyes fixed on the needle gun in Sullivan’s hand.

  “I won’t let you win. Not against her.” The man’s wide eyes roved over them. Focused on Eleanor. “You started this. You wouldn’t die, you wouldn’t go away. No one disturbs her plans, she trusts me to see to it.”

  He didn’t wait for a response, only fired. Adam sprang at Sullivan, knocked his arm high. The impact brought both men to the ground. The rank breath struck him as the man collapsed beneath him but with a powerful twist, Sullivan threw Adam aside. As they rolled Adam’s head cracked into the floor, then he gained leverage, nearly had Sullivan in his grasp as the blood rushed in his ears.

  But Sullivan knelt on top of him, held the gun to Adam’s chest. With a snarl Adam struggled to force the gun up, down, anywhere away. His hand stung with the shock of recoil as the needlegun fired again.

  Sullivan collapsed, kicked and grew still. Adam heaved the man off of him and stared. The long needle had gone through the bottom of Sullivan’s jaw, shattered his palate and entered his brain. The silver of the shaft was visible in the gap-jawed wreckage of Sullivan’s mouth.

  A bitter taste formed at the back of his throat. And then he heard Eleanor’s screams over the muted rush in his ears. Adam spun. Eleanor knelt next to Jake, her hands red to the elbows as she pressed his chest. Adam scrambled to her side, knocked her hands away with no apologies, ignored the stillness of his grandfather’s face and resumed pressure on the gaping wound. The flow of blood slowed, stopped. But Adam did not move.

  Epilogue

  Flames flickered in the darkness of the landing pad. A field of twinkling flames, row upon row. One for each man and woman killed, for the new recruits, for the veterans Jake had known for all those years. And for Jake.

  Eleanor shied away from even thinking the name as her breath caught and her chest hurt. Nothing they had done that night had been of use. Despite the efforts of the medical team that appeared in minutes in response to her screams, the dart had torn open Jake’s heart and the blood loss had been too great for an old man to sustain.

  If she closed her eyes, she could see him as he shoved her away, stepped in front of where she had stood. A warrior, a defender to the end.

  One more death to her name. The field of lights against the dark sky, more lights than even the stars, was obscene.

  Adam stared over the flames. He saw only a wooden house, a rocking chair, carved models on
a shelf. Because of him, his grandfather had left all of that. Because of him, his grandfather had come here to be killed.

  The speeches rolled on. Adam stood, taut and still, the discipline a gift from Moore, his life a gift from his grandfather. There would be another service at home, a marker next to the woman he’d never stopped loving, a time for the friends of a lifetime to say goodbye. But a statement had to be made now, here on Claro. The war no one but a power mad old woman had wanted was over. The secrets of the civil war resolved. Everything was over.

  Eleanor and Shivuk followed the four Tamkeri guards as they bore their white-shrouded bundle into the shuttle. They had found Mikka’s body in a corner of the room she had died in, cast aside, no longer important. Eleanor had straightened the brittle carapace, reapplied her friend’s paint and wrapped her away.

  As the guards sealed the corpse into a sleeping capsule, Eleanor signaled her farewell.

  Adam stayed on the dais long after the ceremony was over, the flames extinguished. Rebecca had approached, said something he could not understand, waited then left. The stars now shone undimmed. He pulled his grandfather’s pipe from the pocket of his uniform, twirled the stem. He wondered if Moore’s glasses floated alone in space now, or had they been destroyed along with their wearer. Jake and Moore. The man at the wedding. Adam smiled. To wait, to plan for all those years. He’d brought the old man here, but Jake had been involved decades before Adam’s birth. His grandfather and his comrades had seen the end of their war at last. And maybe that was enough.

  Their quarters echoed with the absence of Jake and Mikka.