by Spoor,Ryk E
“There just might be.” The more he thought about it, the more he felt certainty spreading through him. “You know, there has to be. Sure, he’ll figure it out sooner or later, but if we catch him before he realizes it, we’ll have the advantage, enhanced bod or not.”
Ariane smiled, buoying his feelings, and he saw Oasis’ tension starting to melt as well. “Then I want you, Oasis, and Wu—and if you have to, Velocity and any other Hyperions you can recruit to get on this. The Arena doesn’t seem to care what happens …but it’s not going to stop us, either. So you figure out how to find this guy, and catch him, before he catches on to the fact that he’s got the same mind-powers you do, Marc.”
“Right, Captain. We’ll figure out how, as soon as we can.” He caught Oasis’ eye, and that of Wu Kung, and saw both of them with the same expression on their faces. In turn, they read his expression. Leave it. We’ll talk later.
Hiding anything from Ariane wasn’t easy, but he was pretty sure she hadn’t caught that one.
That was confirmed when Ariane smiled, then gave a jaw-cracking yawn and stretched. “Whoof. It’s actually been a long day—leaving our Sphere, taking the long way around to the Docks, and then all the time we’ve spent on the review.” She had an apologetic look on her face as she turned to Laila and Carl. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to make it a little longer for you two. Besides the big battle, I’m sure that there’s a lot of Leader of the Faction of Humanity stuff I need to at least get a summary of. The rest of you don’t have to stick around.”
Laila grimaced. “I am afraid you are correct.” Carl’s expression echoed hers, but the two settled back into their seats as Marc rose, the others following him. As they left, he heard Laila continue, “First, there was the matter of a lynching…”
A lynching? He was half-tempted to go back in, but heck, if it had anything of real interest in it, Ariane would no doubt tell him later. Instead, he continued on, aware of the others behind him.
Sure enough, Oasis convinced Simon to go off by himself—a convincing that included a quick kiss. Well, I’ll be damned. So that’s the way it’s gone. He wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that, but—being honest with himself—Simon probably would have a similar reaction to him and Ariane. Though—again being honest—Ariane hadn’t actually ruled out her interest in the white-haired scientist.
The important thing was that he, Oasis, and Wu were now alone. He gestured and all three of them went into one of the other conference rooms. “Embassy, full security on this room, no intrusions.” He looked at the others. “You’ve both got the same thoughts I have, right?”
Wu looked as dead-serious as he ever had. “Catching Fairchild—that I can do! Or we can, if I can’t do it by myself. But holding him? That is something your Patrol couldn’t do, could they?”
“No, they couldn’t.”
“Ariane will never give us orders to go out and kill someone,” Oasis said bluntly. “And I’m glad of that. But Fairchild…”
“Yeah. Fairchild. If anyone was an argument for the death penalty, he’s the guy. I don’t like the idea either, but…”
He didn’t have to finish. But this guy tried to rip Oasis’ brain out just to use it for an escape pod. He almost killed me and Rich more than once. And he’s got the same powers I do. There’s a reason the Patrol did have the death penalty, and was damn reluctant to give any quarter to most of our top enemies.
They were silent for a moment, and then DuQuesne heard himself give a frustrated snort. “Dammit.”
“Ha!” Wu said with a touch of his usual humor. “We again have the same thoughts.”
“Yeah.”
“We have to play it the way the Leader of Humanity wants us to, or we’re not people she can trust,” Oasis managed, grudgingly, to say. “So we have to capture Fairchild.”
“I’ll talk to Ariane. I know, I know, dollars to doughnuts she’s not gonna go for it, but I’ll make sure she understands what kind of a monster we’re going to be catching, and just how hard it’s going to be to lock him down once he understands that he really is that monster for real. And you can bet anything you like that once we catch him he’ll figure that out.”
Wu Kung and Oasis nodded agreement.
Then as they turned to leave, Wu broke out in smiles, and laughed.
“What’s so funny, Wu?”
“We are! DuQuesne, you are his equal, yes? You have beaten him before. And you have me, and you have Oasis, and there are others, yes?”
“Yeah,” he admitted, “but he’s one hell of—”
“So are we,” Wu said, and the indomitable spirit of the Monkey King was back. “But even if he equals us, he will still have to deal with the Captain.”
And remembering everything Ariane had done so far, DuQuesne had to admit that Wu Kung had a very, very good point.
Chapter 54
“You’re sure he’s at the Embassy, Simon?”
She wanted to kick herself almost before the question was out of her mouth, and it didn’t help that Sun Wu Kung broke into a huge grin even as Simon—commendably—restrained a sigh. “Captain, I followed Dajzail there, so to speak, once I had discovered he had taken one of their fastest ships and gone ahead of the fleet.”
“Sorry to ask the question, Simon. It’s just perfect timing, and I wanted to be sure. Do we know why he went on ahead of his fleet?”
“I don’t,” Simon admitted. “I missed whatever discussion or event it was that caused him to do so, and I still feel …stretched when I use that ability, so I dare not watch him for hours at a time.” He shrugged. “I feel a bit guilty doing so at all, to be honest.”
“Can’t say I blame you,” DuQuesne said. “Anyway, I’ve got a pretty good guess as to why, Captain. He’s trying to light a firebreak, if you get my meaning.”
“I guess. You mean preparing people for the news, giving it to them in small groups and so on, rather than having the whole fleet’s return be the first anyone knows of it.”
“Exactly. See, the way I figure it, he’s lost a whole hell of a lot of face with this. Sure, the Molothos as a Faction have too, but as the Faction Leader who decided on this expedition, that’s got to come back to him somehow. So he’s got to do all the spin control he can manage before the story gets too big to keep quiet—or he just might be out of a job.”
“You mean killed?” Ariane envisioned a council of Molothos executing Dajzail for complete failure.
“I doubt that,” Simon said instantly. “What I saw of them …Your Maizas, DuQuesne, was probably a good representative of his people. As far as I could tell, they act around each other the way we do around our own people. They’re just so emphatically hostile to all other species that we never see their softer sides.”
“Wonderful,” Ariane said, and got to smile herself at their startled expressions. Hey, as long as we have this “Blessing of the Arena” I figure we’d better milk it for all it’s worth. “Marc, Nodwick will be docking any minute. I want you down there to coordinate the unloading, and the timing needs to be right.”
Are you …yes, you are, came Marc’s quick thought. I can see what you’re up to. Aloud, he just nodded. “I’ll get right on that, Captain. Simon, Oasis, I’d like you along—if that’s all right?”
“Take anyone you need, Marc.”
She watched them go, then stood. “All right, Wu, I’ve got to make a stop by my cabin to change, and then we’re going out.”
“Whatever you say, Captain.”
When she emerged, Wu nodded. “You are wearing your uniform!”
“Yes, I am.” The dark-blue outfit, reminiscent of formalwear and monkish robes and even, somehow, military uniforms, with its starship-and-cup motif, had materialized from the light of her Awakening, not consciously chosen or designed by her. Yet it fit her, and its symbolism fit her position, her crew, the symbol of the Holy Grail—the ship and the endless quest object combined.
And maybe signifies the quixotic nature of that quest, that it’s
a goal that recedes away as fast as you pursue it. Given what I’m about to do, that’s probably the best interpretation yet. “Come on, Wu, we’ve got a meeting to attend.”
“A meeting? You did not tell me we had anything scheduled. Oscar hates it when you do that!” Wu’s grin showed that he didn’t mind annoying Oscar at all; he was unlikely to forgive the diplomat for his earlier behavior.
“Oh, Oscar would probably want to spend a week discussing it from every angle. No time, and if it works out, he’ll love it, so best not to even mention it to him.”
“What if it doesn’t work—whatever ‘it’ is?”
“Eh, I don’t think it’ll be a disaster,” she answered. Maybe she wasn’t quite as blasé about that as she sounded, and Wu’s sideways glance told her he could smell it. “Okay, only a minor disaster, especially with you around. But I think it’ll be okay.”
“Like DuQuesne once said to me, mine not to reason why, just to kick them to the sky.” Wu bounced along, sometimes in front of her, sometimes behind, as they moved through Nexus Arena. By now she was used to Wu’s irrepressible motions, and could see the tiny glances and moves that allowed her Hyperion bodyguard to see everything around her, while appearing to be a distractible fool. And he plays the part well.
It didn’t take long to reach the outskirts of the Grand Arcade, and from there walk across the intervening park and walkways to her destination. I’m here, Marc, she thought.
Got it, he responded instantly. On my way.
Before them were five immense buildings, so huge that even within the immensity of Nexus Arena they loomed like brooding titans. One a rising whirlpool of spheres that came together and spiraled into the sky, reaching towards the simulated heavens in a symbol of unity; the second a collection of smooth, shimmering towers that arced upward, a behemoth pipe organ of crystal, gold, and light; the third an assemblage of clean, sharp edges that rose like a blade to challenge the sky; the fourth a stepped pyramid of steel and glass, symmetrical, practical, functional; and the last nearly a cube, dark and massive and threatening, decorated with curved points and edges.
The Five Great Faction Houses.
Without slackening her pace she strode past the galaxy-symbolizing tower of the Faith, the challenging blades of the Vengeance, the redoubts of Analytic and Blessed to Serve, and stopped before the black-and-red grimness of the Faction House of the Molothos. She sensed Wu Kung on close guard next to her, and his presence made her able to ignore the danger; she knew she was safe.
“Dajzail of the Molothos, I know you are here. As the Leader of the Faction of Humanity, I ask you to speak with me here and now.” She was conscious now of other movement—the curious of the other Great Factions, stepping from their doorways to find out why any would ask the Molothos to pay attention to them.
The comm-ball shimmered red. She said nothing; patience was her only real lever. He would look, and see she was there, and was not moving.
Finally it turned pure green. “I come.”
She waited.
The doors—great quarter-circles of metal—slowly parted, and Dajzail came forward, his seven legs carrying him in a rippling gait towards her. At least ten or fifteen other Molothos followed him; most were warriors, but two had exoskeletal ornaments and posture that told her they were something more important; these were only just behind Dajzail. He stopped less than four meters distant and crossed his claws before him. “What do you want of the Molothos, Captain Austin?”
Though sharp and rough, Dajzail’s voice held just a hair less than its accustomed arrogance …and he had chosen to use her title. “We had reached an accord, Faction Leader Dajzail. I come for the condition of public announcement. Here, within the view of all four other Great Factions, is more than public enough.”
Dajzail stood immobile, only the slightest vibration of his legs showing he was something other than a fearsome statue. One of the others—a huge Molothos, mostly brilliant crimson with black highlights—buzzed something that Ariane couldn’t catch.
Wu’s senses, however, were much better than hers. “He has just said that they do not need to acknowledge the demands of such an undercreature.”
Dajzail turned slowly, his legs rotating his whole body, and without warning, one of his fighting-claws whipped out and caught the other about the head, gripping the base of the head like a pair of shears. His retort was so savage and high-pitched with fury that, even as softly as he spoke, Ariane felt as though a sharp spike had gone through one ear and out the other.
Dajzail shoved the other aside roughly, despite his greater size, and faced Ariane again. “The Faction of the Molothos will not deny an agreement made, even to …such beings as you.” He rose up, a gesture of pride and resolve, and then spoke so loudly his words echoed about the plaza. “As of this day, a state of…” he hesitated, then continued, “…peace …exists between the Great Faction of the Molothos and the Faction of Humanity and that Faction’s close allies, the Liberated and the Analytic. If you seek not to provoke us, this peace shall endure.”
She could see the rippling of startled glances and hear murmurs in the small but noticeable crowd that had gathered from the other Great Houses. “Your declaration of peace is heard and accepted, Dajzail of the Molothos. We are glad to no longer be at war.”
Dajzail dropped back to his normal pose and gave a buzzing hiss. “There is no goodwill here, Leader Austin. I believe we are finished.”
“There is one additional thing.”
“WHAT?” he snapped, and his fighting-claws were half-raised to strike. “You have demanded much already. Do not think we are infinite of tolerance, regardless of power or threat—and here you have no threats to make!”
“Not an additional demand, Dajzail,” she said, and saw his claws drop a few centimeters. In the distance, she heard a faint hubbub, far off, but drawing closer. “You left our Sphere immediately—as agreed—and made no attempt to argue, discuss, or otherwise test the limits of the bargain.”
The Molothos Leader stared at her, his glowing yellow eye impassive, unreadable.
“That must have been the hardest demand of all, Dajzail; for whatever you feel for us, your words and actions showed that your own people mattered much to you.” The noise was getting closer, and some of the people—including, she thought, Nyanthus himself—were now turning away from the tableau before the Molothos Great House and seeking the source of the new disruption.
“And so the Faction of Humanity, in recognition of this effort of honor and, as we would call it, good faith, have chosen to value your people as we would our own, regardless of how you might view us.” She turned, and extended her arm. “It is a small thing, perhaps, but there were those who were not lost. I hope you will welcome them home.”
Across the plaza of the Great Faction Houses came a vast, dark, rippling motion, rank after rank after rank of Molothos, led by a light-carapaced female with one fighting-claw bound up. To the sides she could see Simon, Oasis, and DuQuesne.
For the first time she saw a Molothos stunned, not with fear or anger, but astonishment; Dajzail’s fighting-claws dropped almost to the ground, and he sagged, his entire eye focused forward. “Dyara …? ” he buzzed.
Then he rattled forward, Wu Kung yanking Ariane out of the way as Dajzail sped to greet the smaller, light-carapaced female. “Dyaratamzin?”
Dyaratamzin drew herself up. “Leader Dajzail, I apologize—”
“Enough. We will speak of nothing before these…” he began something that sounded like “undercreatures,” but then paused and changed it to, “…others. Tell me only this—how many were saved?”
“Fourteen thousand, two hundred and twenty-seven,” she answered.
Dajzail was silent for a moment; Ariane thought she saw a trembling of his manipulator tendrils, something she had never seen before. “And the …human creatures assisted you?”
Dyaratamzin’s voice was uncertain—the tone of someone who is afraid their answer will get them in trouble, bu
t who dares not lie. “Yes.”
Dajzail turned slowly to face Ariane. He stared at her, immobile. Wu edged up, at the right angle to protect her if Dajzail were to act rashly.
But the Leader of the Molothos finally turned away. “Come, then. All of you are coming home. Come into the Embassy, for there is room enough, and we shall arrange for you to return. You have all done well.” He scuttled aside, watching as the army of refugees streamed past.
Ariane began to move away, but then realized that Dajzail was still looking at her. He slowly approached, as most others’ eyes were focused on the immense crowd of Molothos, and stopped only when Wu interposed himself.
“Why?” he buzzed finally.
“Because—regardless of your beliefs—I think of your people as people, and I’m not letting anyone die a castaway in the Arena’s skies—no matter what species they are. No matter what they think of me and mine. Simple as that.”
And Dajzail was still and silent as she turned and walked away, feeling a smile of satisfaction spreading across her face. “C’mon, Wu. Let’s go home.”
A great tone rang out across the Plaza.
“Type Two Challenge concluded. Winner: Ariane Austin and the Faction of Humanity against the Great Faction of the Molothos.”
FIN.