‘Damn it, Gofal!’ Tanis cried. ‘You’re a bot, you’re here to serve.’
Wynn held up his hand. He was exhausted, unable to fight any longer. ‘Gofal, you are my oldest friend, you are my equal, but you are wrong. The solution is not retreat. Can’t you see that?’
Gofal shook his head. ‘I cannot. Given our difference of opinion, I feel my skills would be best suited accompanying Bara to ensure she has the best possible chance of survival.’
Tanis stood, furious. ‘This is outrageous!’
Gofal watched him, waiting patiently for Wynn to respond.
‘If you cannot stand with me, you are free to go,’ Wynn said at last. ‘You are dismissed.’
Gofal bowed, then turned to the door and was gone.
Wynn held his head in his hands. He wanted to change his mind, to step back from the brink of war, but he knew he had to finish this. Bara was wrong! Gofal was wrong! If they couldn’t see that then he was better off without them. Eventually, he looked to the Lord Chamberlain.
‘Tell me you’re still with me?’
‘All the way, my prince,’ Tanis said boldly. ‘All the way to the end.’
THE OATH
‘Is the spy still alive?’ Orcades Draig asked Commodore Jacque Valine, his voice feeble.
‘Yes, of course,’ she replied, hiding her contempt. ‘He has withstood much of our interrogation. He has obviously been trained to defend his thoughts.’
Orcades listened, hardly moving his head. He looked much older now as he rested in his bed. Exertion took its toll quickly, and his routine required hours of recuperation in between his official duties. He had lost weight, the grey skin clinging to his cheek bones, making his eyes appear larger than usual.
‘Is he Kenric?’ Orcades asked. His voice cracked, and she placed a water tube into his mouth for him to sip on.
‘I don’t think so,’ she replied, checking the monitor at the side of the bed. ‘Some of his mental disciplines, the way he has withstood our probing, it reminds me of the Church’s training.’
‘The Church!’ Animated, Orcades moved to lift his head, then thought better of it. ‘The Church hates me. I should have known. You will kill him for me.’
‘If you wish it, but perhaps there is a better use for him?’
‘Such as?’
‘I think we can presume he came from the Vengeance or the Caerleon during the battle. If he is a Church agent working for the House of Kenric, I think we might be able to use him to our advantage.’
‘How?’ Orcades asked.
‘We release him.’
He stared at her, then a smile grew on his face, a smile that became laughter. ‘You want to let him go?’ A feeble cough replaced his laughter, then he rested, eyes closed, breathing slowly.
Valine wiped his face with a cloth. The material was coated with a mild sedative that would make him more open to her augments.
‘We allow him to escape and return to his ship. If he thinks he has escaped by his own wit and ingenuity he may return to the Kenric arkship. We can–’
‘We can follow him! I see, yes. Follow him, and destroy them, yes.’
‘No,’ she replied crisply. She had studied him closely, knew how his mother had kept him in line. She knew when to be firm and when to placate him. ‘The spy is not stupid! He will know that we will have placed trackers onto his ship. He will expect us to follow, and he will do everything he can to avoid the Kenric arkships.’
She paused, giving him a moment to mull over her words, then she continued. ‘The spy may not have given us much information, but his silence has told me a great deal about what he stands for. He has a sense of right and wrong, of duty and honor, and I think we can appeal to his moral code. We give him a cause to fight for, a reason to expose his allies. If we let him know our next intended target he will reach out to warn them. He will also tell the House of Kenric that you are coming. The prince will move to stop us, thinking he can outwit you. But he will fail, as he has always failed. Everything else will unfold from that point.’
Orcades’ eyes narrowed, and he took a quick breath. ‘Yes . . . yes, that may work. But only if the spy does not suspect he is being used. He must suffer for his duty.’
Valine smiled. ‘I can arrange that.’
‘Good,’ Orcades said. He turned his head into his pillow and closed his eyes.
‘There is more,’ Valine said, drawing him out of his rest.
‘Make it quick,’ Orcades warned her.
‘Our skirmish with the Kenric arkships exposed a lack of cohesion in our fleet. We suffered much damage, and our response times were far too low.’
‘You have a solution, I presume?’
‘The fleet needs an admiral.’
‘I oversee the fleet!’ Orcades barked.
‘Yes, of course, but your duties are great, and the day-to-day running of the fleet is a tedious task that does not befit a Valtais of your grandeur. An admiral can assume control, carry out your will without you having to be burdened by bureaucracy.’
His eyes smiled. ‘And you think you should be Admiral?’
‘Me? No. Tradition dictates it should be a Draig. A member of the family. I was not born here, I could never have such an honor.’
‘There is no Draig still alive who could do such a job, except me.’
Valine nodded sadly. ‘It is a pity. If there was someone you trusted, I could train them, teach them everything I know, help them to fulfill your wishes.’
Orcades fell silent, studying her, thinking. ‘You could take the oath . . .’
Valine feigned surprise. ‘The oath? That’s an ancient ritual.’
‘It is still valid. You will take the oath, you will become a daughter of the House of Draig. You will be part of my family. Then, you can be Admiral of the Fleet.’
She held her hand to her chest, humbled, surprised . . . satisfied. ‘Valtais, if you wish it.’
‘I do.’
‘Then I would be honored to take the oath.’
‘See to the arrangements,’ he said, dismissing her with a small wave of his hand. His eyes closed, exhaustion taking hold.
She stood, looking at him for a moment. It had been easier to manipulate him than she had expected. Perhaps she should reduce his gravel intake somewhat. She didn’t want him to think this had been a delusion. She needed him to be aware, cognitive, but agreeable to her suggestions. She made a mental note to review the dosage, and turned to leave, her mind already making preparations for her new position.
NEW START
Bara stared out of the window of her cabin on Lexica. The tiny room was positioned behind the bridge, overlooking the engines, and was hardly bigger than the bed she rested on, but Bara always felt safe here, cocooned in the claustrophobic embrace of her ship. Out of the narrow window she could see the hypnotic glitter of the stars through a haze of gas and asteroids. Somewhere out there was the Vengeance – too small to see with the naked eye – getting further away from her with every passing second. She thought of Wynn, and the sadness felt like it was crushing her, a gravity well of despair that she couldn’t hope to escape from. Sitting here wasn’t doing her any good; she needed company.
She climbed from her bed, pulling a thin blanket round her shoulders, and walked the short distance to the bridge. She dropped into the seat beside Gofal, feeling better already. As she gazed affectionately at him, she wondered what she would have done if he hadn’t come with her. She would have turned back, she was sure.
‘You are staring at me again,’ Gofal noted without looking at her.
‘Am not!’ she replied. ‘Just thinking.’
He flicked the ship to auto and released the control yoke, swiveling in his chair to face her. ‘How are you, Bara?’
She shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter around her body.
‘He chose war over you. He wouldn’t listen. He obviously doesn’t love you, even though he says he does. He’s a royal pain in the ass. You said that, and you made me
promise to tell you if ever you had doubts. You appear to have doubts, so this looks like an appropriate time to remind you.’
Bara couldn’t help but laugh. She reached out her leg and jabbed him. ‘Thank you, Gofal.’
‘You do miss him then?’
‘Of course I miss him! That’s what makes leaving so hard.’
‘I miss the library on Icarus. Before that, I missed the fountain in the middle of the Grand Promenade on the Obsidian. Before that, I missed the production line at the Ciation factory where I was manufactured. It was a fascinating place, Bara, row after row of bots like me, all being assembled and programmed.’
Bara sighed, not in the mood for one of his lectures. ‘Are you trying to make a point, Gofal?’
‘Time heals. We move on, and the things we miss are replaced by new things.’
‘It’s not the same with people.’
Gofal tilted his head, as if he was thinking about that, then he returned to the flight controls.
‘The sukaitaun Tateishi-Maru is coming into view,’ Gofal said. ‘The Li Zhang family refer to their arkships as sky towns, or sukaitaun. Quite lovely, don’t you think?’
‘Mmm,’ Bara replied, not committing herself.
Out of the windows, she could just make out a tiny line of light. She flicked on the holograph and a representation of the Tateishi-Maru flickered in front of her. She studied the arkship, turning the holograph to see the engine section more clearly.
‘Not huge,’ she noted. ‘Quite old, but looks to be well maintained. You think they’ll need an engineer?’
‘I have already made some inquiries. You have an interview with the Head of Engineering tomorrow morning.’
‘An interview?’ Bara said in disgust.
‘Yes. There will also be some practical tests.’
Groaning, she pulled the blanket over her head so that just her face was exposed.
‘We have been cleared to dock,’ Gofal said, sounding pleased.
She watched as the tiny line of light became bigger, growing into a discernable shape with surface details. The docking bay sat at the top of the arkship, protected by buttress-like extrusions, dotted with towers. As Lexica cleared the security grid, Bara’s thoughts turned to Melchior. Her home was gone, destroyed by Orcades Draig. Her parents were dead, and part of her had died that day as well.
She had always travelled, wanted to see what was out there, but whenever she was tired or hurt or needed a place to think, she’d go home, to Melchior. Not this time. There was nowhere left to retreat to. She knew she had to make a new start, but as the glistening towers of the Tateishi-Maru passed by the windows, all she felt was a numb fatigue. She had no fight left in her.
Bara glanced down into the pit of the hanger bay: this was her life now, on Lexica, trading between arkships, forever moving, never stopping for too long. And yet, all she could think of was the Vengeance, of Wynn facing Orcades Draig alone, and she realized she was crying.
Gofal’s cool hand touched her, making her jump.
‘It’ll be okay,’ he said, his voice like a gentle tune. ‘You’ll be okay.’
Bara looked into his illuminated eyes and found comfort in his words. She could almost believe it was true.
DOWNLOAD
Gofal maneuvered Lexica onto the assigned docking pad, constantly in communication with the Tateishi-Maru’s harbor master, while at the same time checking on Bara. She had been quiet during their journey, only talking when she needed to, barely interested in the ship and its system. This was not the Bara he had grown accustomed to. His friend was in pain.
He glanced at her again, wondering if he should tell her about his visions, about his contact with the Infinite Gods. He had never believed before; he had never had to. Fear feeds belief, and Gofal was not programmed to process dread. It was an unnecessary luxury. He had a desire to remain alive, to preserve himself for as long as possible, to remain viable, but he had never experienced the fear of mortality in the way that most humans did.
Not until his communion with the Infinite Gods.
It had taken him a long time to decide that it wasn’t just stray data, an error caused by his proximity to the Cube drive when it was disconnected. The visions had been real, he was certain now. He had witnessed his entire existence, from the first moment of construction, through to his life with Wynn, right up to the present day. He had seen things he could not have remembered, flashes from the future that had already come to pass. He had witnessed the moment in the War Room where Bara stood to leave. He had heard his own words, watched as he too had turned his back on Wynn, hardly able to reconcile his actions. But, in that instant, the Gods had spoken to him, downloading their thoughts directly into his cerebral matrix. It was their will that he was here, with Bara. He was merely carrying out their wishes.
And he had seen more, other frozen memories from the future, all the way to his own end point. He had been shown the stepping stones that led from today to that final moment, and he had found a peace he had never known before. All his life he had been searching without knowing, looking for the beauty and art in nature, in people, in design, in the moments between those things. But he had been searching for something that he already had. He saw now that his life was a canvas, a tapestry of the most exquisite art. He was no longer just a viewer looking at a painting; he was the artist, the brush and the paint, all at once.
Gofal had found his purpose. He had grown beyond his programming. He had become something more, but that new understanding brought with it an additional set of variables to consider.
As Lexica vibrated with the contact of docking, he felt his thoughts coalesce. He was changed by his encounter. Now, he had something new to process, something tangible and unavoidable that clouded his thoughts.
Gofal was afraid.
ESCAPE
Derward awoke with a jolt. He had been elsewhere, dreaming of another time, hiding a child from harm.
He pushed it aside, trying to remember where he was. He clawed his way to a wall, touching cold stone beneath him. His mouth was dry, and he could feel his heart beating too quickly. Had they drugged him again? he wondered. Possibility. Then he felt the pain in his head, and everything else fell away. It was a red fire in the middle of his skull, where he couldn’t get at it. He cried out, unable control his fear. Then he remembered his training, and he began to suppress the fire. At the same moment, he remembered what had caused the pain. Tentatively, he reached up to his right eye, testing the skin around it, wincing with each stab of pain. The wound had been sealed, but his eye had gone, plucked out to amuse Orcades Draig. He slumped to the floor, his control broken.
No! That is what they wanted. They were trying to break him. He must not submit! He had to be strong. He pictured the Scribe, on the day of her coronation, her pride hiding her pain. If she could carry her burden so lightly then so could he.
He went over the last few hours, replaying the details of his torture. Who had been in the room with him? Orcades . . . three guards; Blackley, Nieminen and . . . he had only discovered two of their names. Towards the end, someone else had entered while he was reeling in pain, to talk to Orcades. Commodore Valine! Yes, they had been talking, when he was barely conscious. They had spoken as they had left the interrogation chamber. What had Orcades said? Something about preparations for an attack? Yes, they were about to move again. His plans for expansion didn’t stop to wait for repairs, it seemed. As the door had closed, Valine mentioned an arkship, one belonging to the Li Zhang family. What was its name? Tak . . . no. His head hurt too much. He let it go, for now.
Derward stood, holding the wall for support. He opened his remaining eye, blinking quickly, trying to make out details. He could see a door opposite him, a single guard through the glass.
Just one today. Normally there were two.
‘Hey,’ Derward shouted. His voice had no strength. He used the wall to guide him to the doorway. ‘Guard!’
‘What is it?’ a voice replied. He soun
ded young, hesitant. He was new.
‘You’re not Lerek,’ Derward said, suppressing the scratching pain. ‘Did I oversleep?’
The guard didn’t reply.
‘Lerek and me, we’d talk sometimes,’ Derward continued. ‘Orcades encouraged it. He likes me talking. And I like it too. It’s pretty lonely in here, friend. Can we talk? What’s your name?’
‘Tallow,’ the voice replied. He was reluctant, but at least he was talking. Good, Derward thought.
‘Tallow? Hi, Tallow. First time down here?’
‘I’m not sure if I should be talking to–’
‘It’s just talking,’ Derward laughed. The exertion sent daggers of pain through his face. A cold sweat followed, and his grip on consciousness loosened. He made fists, tensed his muscles, forcing blood up his body until the sensation passed. ‘No . . . no harm in talking, right?’
Tallow didn’t reply. There was no sign of him now.
‘You still there, Tallow?’ Derward checked.
‘Yeah, I’m here.’
‘Good. So, what’s happened to old Lerek? Did I wear him down?’ Keeping his voice light and jovial was a struggle.
‘They’re at the ceremony.’
They. Tallow was alone out there.
‘Ceremony?’ Derward asked casually.
‘Oath taking. Commodore Valine’s been promoted. Admiral of the Fleet.’
‘She’s ambitious,’ Derward said, his mind racing. ‘So, they put you down here while they all get a few hours off, eh, Tallow?’
‘Maybe.’
‘I bet they’ll get free food and drinks after as well!’
‘I . . . I don’t know.’ Tallow replied quietly.
‘Shame you’ll miss it.’
Tallow fell silent. Derward pushed his face up to the glass, trying to see him. ‘Hey, Tallow, my friend. Any chance of a glass of water?’
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