The flight would only last ten minutes, but Halstead relished in the fleeting freedom of piloting the shuttle. He arced towards the Benwick, dipping Hunter One into a sharp nosedive.
‘Remember, I’m old!’ Aditsan complained as the pull of gravity increased.
Halstead leveled their decent, smiling to himself. The lights of the Benwick’s hanger deck grew larger, and the tension in his stomach increased. He would see her soon.
‘Hunter One, this is the arkship Benwick. We have you on approach to hanger deck one. Confirm flight trajectory and turn over control to us for final decent.’
Halstead acknowledged the distant voice and released the control yoke, letting the Benwick’s flight controllers take command of the shuttle’s course. Hunter One responded, slowing its approach towards the hanger deck. There was nothing for Halstead to do now but sit back and watch. His momentary flight of freedom was over, and the confines of his rank and position began to return. He fastened his tunic, clipping the last button into place beneath his chin.
As the shuttle cleared the opening to the Benwick’s hanger deck, Halstead felt a hand grip his shoulder. He turned to see Reader Aditsan gazing at him. His face barely moved, but Halstead appreciated the older man’s gesture of reassurance.
The shuttle came to a rest, and the pilot confirmed the termination of the flight with the Benwick’s flight controller. The engines came to a rest and the cockpit became oddly silent. Halstead stood, heading for the shuttle’s entrance ramp. The air pumps cycled, and the ramp hissed open. As the jets of steam cleared, Halstead walked down the ramp, Reader Aditsan close behind him. He had expected to see Bara there, waiting to greet him, but there was only a handful of hanger deck crew.
He’d imagined this moment, replaying it over and over in his head, wondering if Bara had changed. Would she be glad to see him? Angry, perhaps? And what would he feel in return? Happiness? Fear? Regret? But, as the hanger deck crew approached the shuttle, the overriding emotion was disappointment.
‘Prince Halstead, welcome aboard the arkship Benwick.’ It was one of the deck officers, smiling at him. Halstead stared past him, trying to find Bara.
‘Lord Dulac sends his greetings. He apologizes for not being here in person to meet you, but he is keen to speak to you and he has asked me to escort you to him.’ The deck officer held up his arm, guiding Halstead and Reader Aditsan towards an open doorway.
Halstead frowned, following the officer out of the hanger deck and down the corridor. They walked in silence, until they came to a wide set of doors.
‘Faron Dulac is inside,’ the officer said, already retreating.
Halstead watched him go, then turned to Aditsan. ‘What’s this about?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps we should go inside and find out?’
Prince Halstead shook his head. This wasn’t at all how he imagined it. He pressed the control panel and the door slid open to reveal a grand state room. Halstead stepped inside, the interior barely registering with him. All he saw was two people waiting for him inside. He glanced at Faron Dulac, then his eyes locked onto Bara. She was still as beautiful as he remembered, her dark hair a little longer, her face a little fuller, but the woman he loved was exactly as he remembered her. She smiled at him, but it was a pensive expression. He grinned in return, relief pushing his other emotions aside. Then he looked down, and he saw her hands cupping her stomach, and Prince Halstead’s smile fell away.
HAUNTED
Orcades Draig was dead. Orcades Draig was dead. Orcades Draig was dead.
Valine knew it was true, but the message unnerved her, boring into her subconscious thoughts to pick away at her confidence. During the day, he occupied her thoughts, making her doubt her own abilities. Then at night, when she was alone, he would find her dreams and paint them with dark colors.
She saw him today, walking towards her along a gantry in the air processing tanks. She was there to inspect the work, a morale boosting visit after lengthy repairs to the facility, when she saw him, grinning that wicked grin, his torturous eyes pulling her in. She had gasped, stopping in her tracks, watching the man approach, his face transforming as it emerged from the shadows until it became another man, one of the workers. He didn’t even look like Orcades, he was decades older. Was she so scared, so insecure that her mind would find him when she was awake, lucid and safe?
Orcades Draig was dead. Orcades Draig was dead.
Valine disengaged the screen, letting the vast windows of her bedroom reveal the light of the Infinite. They were close to it, its columns extending beyond the frame of the windows so that only the blazing cross at its center was visible. A vast X in space, burning into her retina so that it remained when her eyes glanced down to the pad on her table. She activated the screen, reviewing the results from her last search. She tapped into the surveillance feeds from across the Draig population, pulling together any mention of her search phrase: Orcades Draig. Discussion was up by eighty three percent since the message had been received. She added another word to her search string: Alive. The chatter spiked at ninety four percent. People were talking about him, speculating, and it was spreading like a virus. It wasn’t just on the Gargan, it was on the other Draig vessels as well. Already, rumors circulated that Waffron’s arkships had fallen under the leadership of a returned Orcades Draig. Rumors, nothing certain. But the more the idea grew, the weaker she became.
Orcades Draig was dead.
Outside, the Infinite threw off an arc of super-heated plasma. The eruption pushed its way into space, a glittering line of light. For a moment, Valine thought it might carry on, illuminating a new path through the Cluster, but then it slowed, and it fell back towards its home. Valine watched it disappear, consumed by the shifting patterns of color, becoming an anonymous part of something larger.
Her power was fading. All it needed was an idea to take hold, to fester hope amongst her followers, and she would be cast out. She needed help. Prince Halstead was an enemy to the House of Draig, but he was also the half-brother of Orcades Draig, and he had rescued over two hundred Draig civilians from the destruction of the Fenrir. He had looked after them, given them safe passage when Orcades had turned his back on them. Under the right conditions, she could make him a hero to the House of Draig. Yes, she could spin a good story out of Prince Halstead. He could be the ally she needed, but he refused to talk to her. The notion of a truce was too outlandish for him. She would have to find another way.
She picked up another pad, scanning through her com log. There was the invitation from the Church of the Infinite to attend the new Scribe’s inauguration. Halstead would be going, as would the rest of the Harvest Union. He would be difficult to get to, but perhaps it was worth the risk.
An aide tapped on the door, bringing her supper. Silently, he placed the tray on the table and bowed. As he straightened, Valine could have sworn she saw that face again, smiling with menace. The man left, and Valine realized she was trembling. She closed the curtain, feeling vulnerable, knowing that he was waiting for her in her dreams.
Orcades Draig was dead, wasn’t he?
TEMPTATION
Orcades Draig inhaled, filling his aching lungs. The pain was still there, but it couldn’t diminish his euphoria. Right now, he felt more alive than he had ever felt before. Even the highs of gravel didn’t compare to this moment. He had returned to his people and become more than their leader. He was a figurehead now, a god amongst men. The past was forgiven, wiped clean by his triumphant return. Already, he had brought two of the warring factions together. Soon the House of Draig would be reunited and reborn, like him, better, stronger, a force to be reckoned with. These were the days that filled the pages of history books, he told himself. All that remained in his way was Valine.
Valine.
He had underestimated her. He would not make the same mistake again.
Orcades summoned his commodore with a wave. Orava responded immediately, crossing the flight deck to stand beside Orcades’ chair.
‘The fleet?’ Orcades asked.
‘The six arkships have their orders. They are preparing to leave. I’ve reviewed and replaced some of the command officers on the Melrakki and Hundur with our people.’
‘They were still loyal to Waffron?’
Orava shook his head, leaning closer so that the conversation became more intimate. ‘A precaution,’ he said. ‘It seems Waffron was not very popular, and your return was well timed, but I prefer to have people I can trust on board those two arkships.’
Orcades nodded, appreciating his commodore’s foresight.
‘He was becoming desperate,’ Orava noted, his voice taking on a sad tone. ‘He had acquired a graviton mine, and I think he intended to use it against Valine, or perhaps us.’
‘They still exist? I thought they had all been destroyed years ago.’
‘It is old, and no doubt unstable. We’ll pilot it into the heart of the Infinite, out of harm’s way.’
Orcades pictured the weapon and the devastation it could cause. The potential power was disturbing and intoxicating. ‘He would have used it on his own people?’
Commodore Orava nodded. ‘That seems to have been his plan, as a last resort.’
‘Even as a last resort, Draig should not kill Draig. It’s a pity he is not alive to receive his proper punishment.’
As Orcades pondered this, Commodore Orava bowed and turned to leave.
‘He has family?’ Orcades asked, halting Orava’s departure.
‘A sister, I believe, and a nephew.’
‘They will answer for his crimes.’
Orava hesitated, his brow furrowed. ‘Valtais . . .’
‘The message must be clear: we are Draig, and we do not scheme to kill our brothers. See to it.’
The commodore straightened. ‘Yes, Valtais.’
Orcades slumped into the comfort of the chair, dismissing Orava, and let his mind drift as the flight deck officers worked around him. He was so tired, so weak, and the temptation to lose himself in the haze of narcotics seemed stronger today. He stood, forcing himself to move, knowing that if he kept himself busy, if his mind was occupied, he could ignore the urges. Orcades circled the flight deck until he came to Commodore Orava hunched over the com officer’s desk.
‘You have found something?’ Orcades asked.
‘We have intercepted reports that the Harvest Union are meeting soon.’ Orava said.
‘Who?’
‘It is an alliance spearheaded by the House of Kenric. It came about because of Valine’s attempt to take control of the Carter & Grey shipyard.’
Orcades nodded, remembering. He had read the files, but his memory was not what it used to be. ‘Halstead will be there. He and his allies. You have a location?’
Orava nodded cautiously. ‘I have a man on board the Sinclair flagship. He keeps me informed. But I think it would be unwise to attack them yet, we are–’
‘We are too weak. Yes, you’re right. We would be defeated. Halstead still stands in my way, and the House of Draig cannot truly be whole again until he is gone.’ Orcades’ heart raced, but he did nothing to curb his fervor. He let it grow, remembering how good it felt. ‘Waffron has given us what we need to even the odds.’
‘The bomb?’ Orava asked, shocked.
Orcades eyes widened. ‘Yes! The bomb.’ We will send it to the Harvest Union, a gift from the House of Draig.’
‘Valtais, they are outlawed, highly volatile, very destructive–’
‘Exactly! Halstead will be crushed!’
Orava hesitated. ‘Is this your wish, Valtais?’
‘What do you think?’ he said in a whisper.
Orava nodded. ‘It will be done. Once the bomb is launched, we can depart. We can still be at Earth in time for the inauguration.’
Orcades smiled. ‘And Valine will be ours. No one will be able to stop me.’
‘Yes, Valtais.’
Orava bowed, then left the flight deck.
Earth. That would be the location of their greatest victory. All the major houses would be there, as would the Church, and they would see his strength. Halstead and his allies wouldn’t be able to stop him. He would bring the House of Draig to order, then he would show them. He would show them all.
Even as he pictured his conquest, he couldn’t dismiss the feeling of trepidation. Every time he thought of the Church it was there, like a sickness, deep within him, and he didn’t know why.
THE NAME
‘Bara?’ Prince Halstead said, his mind racing.
‘Wynn, I–’
‘Don’t!’ he interrupted. ‘Don’t call me that, not any more. You . . . you’re pregnant?’
Bara stepped closer, holding out her hand to him. ‘I wanted to tell you sooner, but I couldn’t do it over the com. I know it’s a shock to you, but–’
‘A shock?’ Halstead fought with his emotions, trying to contain them. He stepped back, glancing at Aditsan for support. He looked over Bara’s head, unable to meet her eyes. He couldn’t do this, he wasn’t strong enough.
‘Prince Halstead?’ Reader Aditsan said quietly.
Halstead shook his head quickly, tensing his spine. He was the prince. He had to do his duty. ‘I’m . . . the House of Kenric is pleased by your news.’
‘Damn it, Wynn,’ Bara said, walking towards him.
Halstead took another step back. ‘I am Prince Halstead, of the House of Kenric. I . . .’ The shock of the moment crushed his resolve and he found tears in his eyes. He turned away from her, composing himself again. But then he felt her hand on his arm. It was all too much.
‘Wynn . . .’ Her voice was softer, close to him. ‘I’m sorry. Can we talk?’
He wanted to run, to hide away somewhere, but he remembered his duty and turned to look at her. ‘Yes . . .yes, of course.’
She smiled, brittle and uncertain, then led the way to a lower section adorned with cushions – the Dulac tradition for meetings, he remembered. Faron joined Bara and Halstead there, but Aditsan remained apart, resting at the edge of the room.
‘I’m happy for you, really,’ Halstead said in a whisper. ‘Both of you.’
‘Prince Halstead, you misunderstand,’ Faron replied. ‘I am not the child’s father.’
Confused, Halstead turned to Bara for answers. She reddened, looking down.
‘Wynn . . . Halstead; I should have come to you sooner, I know. The child is ours, yours and mine. You are the father.’
‘But . . .’ Halstead stared at her, trying to comprehend her words. Then, in a flash, the visions from his encounter with the Infinite Gods struck his mind. He recalled holding a child – his own child. Later, he argued with his son, the two men locked in a heated standoff. They were fleeting instances, just snapshots of a future he would one day live through, but he now saw the arrow that connected him to them. It was this child.
‘A boy?’ he asked.
Bara’s face filled with surprise. ‘Yes.’
Halstead nodded, feeling the inevitable drag of the future taking hold of him.
‘I want you involved,’ Bara said. ‘You’re his father, and he should know who you are.’
He was only half listening, the words barely sinking in. He glanced over at Faron. ‘You will protect him? You’ll protect both of them?’
‘Of course,’ Faron replied earnestly.
Prince Halstead stood. He wanted to stay, to talk with Bara, but he had to leave. He needed to get away, to think. He felt like he was somewhere outside of his body, replaying events he had long forgotten.
‘We’ll speak soon,’ he said, turning to leave.
‘When? I don’t have long, a matter of weeks. We have to talk, we have to sort this out. And I want you here, when our son is born. I want you with me.’
‘I . . .’
‘Please. You have to. If not for me, then do it for our son.’
Halstead felt the conflict of emotions pulling at him, but then he saw the fear in Bara’s eyes and he knew he had to help her.
‘Yes, I’ll be here, I promise.’
She smiled with relief, about to speak, but he couldn’t stay any longer. He had to escape.
‘Wait! Don’t go so soon. You must have questions,’ Bara said.
Halstead stopped and looked at her. ‘Yes. I have a question.’ Perhaps, the visions had been a dream, his own imagination playing tricks on him, but this would cast aside any remaining doubts. If the visions were correct, if he had seen his own future, then he already knew the answer. ‘His name. What will you name him?’
Bara looked to Faron for support. He came to her side, his hand holding hers.
‘Galen Leopold, after my father.’
Halstead closed his eyes, trembling. ‘His full name.’
Bara paused. When she spoke her voice was quieter, an edge of concern in her words. ‘Galen Leopold Aldwyn Delaterre Kenric.’
He opened his eyes to look at her again. ‘A good name for a prince.’ He smiled sadly, then he made for the door, Reader Aditsan close behind him. He had his answer. It wasn’t a coincidence. He’d heard his son’s name before, spoken in his visions of the future. Every word, every syllable. It was true, and with that realization came a wave of sadness, because he knew the rest of it must be true as well: his unborn son was doomed to hate him.
REVELATIONS
Otto hadn’t been to visit for three days and, as Gofal sat in Library One, he wondered if the child had tired of their conversations. He had been fascinated by the story of the Fracture, how the sun had been torn apart, sending a shockwave through the solar system, a shockwave disrupting both time and space, its terrifyingly slow progress unstoppable. He had marveled at the ingenuity of the exodus, how millions of people had survived, how billions more had perished. Otto didn’t seem to grasp the human loss, the scale was just too large, but his eyes filled with wonder and excitement at Gofal’s telling. His presence had given Gofal moments of pleasure, making his findings seem less terrible, but now, as he studied his work alone, the scale of his discovery began to sink in. He really wished Otto was here to distract him.
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