Spheres of Influence-eARC

by Ryk E. Spoor

  Orphan bobbed a slow agreement. “I…believe I see your course, Doctor. If we can securely carry them aboard Zounin-Ginjou for a few days, we could transfer them to a location I know, and the Blessed do not, and leave them there. Without a ship, it could take them years, even centuries, to find a way off. It would be…a life sentence of exile, but need not be murder.”

  “Would you be willing to take that risk?” Ariane asked. “I realized while we were thinking that I can’t give orders at all here. This is your ship, not mine. I’m sorry.”

  Orphan laughed. “Apology accepted, Captain Austin. And in truth…” He looked at Sethrik, then out at the wreck of Thilomon. “…in truth, Captain, Sethrik, I can still well remember my days as one of the Blessed. Those are my people as well, Sethrik. I think you now understand fully what drove me to where I am.”

  “I do,” Sethrik said quietly.

  “Then you understand my hostility is towards the Minds, and towards the Blessed when they act against myself and my friends. Not towards our people as individuals.” He turned back to Ariane, and DuQuesne could see her smile of gratitude as Orphan said, “So yes, Captain Austin, I am very willing to take that risk, if we can find a reasonable manner of bringing them aboard without unleashing them upon Zounin-Ginjou.”

  “Do they have a radio? Something I could use to speak with them?”

  Sethrik tilted his head, then gave a brisk wing-snap; the effort to rescue his former crew seemed to be bringing him back to himself. “I believe they should.” He went to another panel, made some adjustments. “That should be attuned properly now.”

  “Hold on.” She thought. “Orphan, if you have a destination in mind, how long would it take from now until drop-off to get them there?”

  “Hmm.” Orphan bent over his console. “Taking into account the need to recharge at one of my…reserves, I would say five and a half days. Perhaps slightly less. I assume that you would all remain with me to assist.”

  “Yes, of course.” She looked over to Marc. “How much space would they need, at a minimum?”

  “For most of a week? Well, I get the impression they can probably handle close quarters together better than a random set of humans. Give ’em two square meters apiece, that’s six hundred twenty-two square meters. Double it for space to move around in, sanitary facilities, so on, say twelve hundred fifty square meters.” He glanced at Orphan. “What’s the dimensions of your largest cargo bay?”

  “One hundred twelve by forty-two by twenty-three meters,” Orphan answered promptly. “More than enough space. But it is not terribly secure.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of just using the bay,” Marc said, grinning. “Look. Sethrik, you know the layout of Thilomon. Is there a place we could gather everyone together that would have enough space, and maybe sanitary facilities that’d work for a week for that many people?”

  Sethrik stared at him, and then suddenly gave a buzzing laugh as he understood. “You mean to carve out that part of Thilomon as a sort of cargo container and prison. Yes, I believe so. The troop quarters in the central section—they will be somewhat crowded in there, but if you take a three floor section…yes, that would fit in the cargo bay and provide everything they need. If you are careful, you could even give them a low-power connection to keep vital systems working.”

  “Power engineering’s my speciality. I’m sure we could.” He grinned at Ariane. “I think we’ve got your solution—if they’ll go for it.”

  “Then let’s find out.” Ariane nodded to Orphan to activate the transmitter. “Thilomon, this is Captain Ariane Austin of Humanity. Please respond.”

  A few moments later the screen lit with a dim but recognizable image of an injured Blessed. “This is Acting-Guidemaster Hancray. Speak.”

  “Hancray? Good, I’m glad Wu Kung’s entrance didn’t kill you,” she said, smiling. Then her face went grimly serious, and DuQuesne saw how she drew herself up. By God, I think she’s finally getting it. “Guidemaster Hancray, I trust you understand your position. Your entire fleet has been wiped out, nothing but wreckage to be found. My bodyguard, whom you thought killed, has been much more merciful with you; a large proportion of your crew are still alive.

  “Given the circumstances, I have every reason to wish no word of this to ever reach the Minds. They will realize their brilliant strategem failed utterly, but will learn nothing at all beyond that. The simplest way to assure that this happens is to finish what we began: wipe you out. I also trust you realize that even damaged as she is, Zounin-Ginjou can effectively vaporize your ship.”

  “I do. What is your counterproposal? You would not bother to call had you nothing else to offer.” Despite his direct manner, DuQuesne could read his body language. Hancray was afraid. Junior officer, helmsman or something, suddenly in command of a derelict vessel. He watched it all come apart and almost got killed, and now he’s facing Ariane all by himself.

  “I would very much rather not kill you,” she said. “So here’s the proposal. All of you will retreat to the troop quarters in the central section of Thilomon. That section—three levels of it—will be removed and brought into Zounin-Ginjou. We will then transport you to an Upper Sphere location where you can survive and leave you there.”

  “Death or permanent exile, then.”

  “In her position,” DuQuesne interjected, “what would you be offering? I think she’s being damn generous with you.”

  Hancray was silent a moment. “I…must confer with my people.”

  “I’m giving you exactly five minutes. The longer we wait, the more danger I’m exposing us to. Confer quickly.”

  Orphan looked at her as she cut the transmission. “And if they delay…?”

  Her lips tightened. “Then we…no, I…will blow them out of the sky. I don’t want to. I hope they take this offer. But I’m through ignoring my responsibilities. I have to let us get back and deal with the real problem.”

  “Heart of gold and still hard as nails,” a weak voice came from behind them. “I approve.”

  “Simon!” Ariane went to help him to a chair.

  “What the hell are you doing out of bed, Simon?” DuQuesne demanded.

  “Couldn’t…just stay in bed when you might need me,” he said; the face was pale under the reddened burns and bruises.

  Ariane was staring at Simon’s injuries, aghast. “God, Simon. I’m so sorry.”

  “Hardly your fault.”

  “Yes. Yes it is, Simon. But I won’t let it happen again.”

  He raised an eyebrow, then shrugged painfully. “If you insist on taking the blame, I haven’t the energy to argue with you. And who knows, perhaps you’re right. But in that case, apology accepted, it’s all forgotten.”

  In a few more minutes, Ariane snapped on the transmitter. “Guidemaster Hancray, do you have an answer for me?”

  Hancray immediately appeared. He looked slightly more bedraggled than before, as though despite his injuries he had still gotten in some sort of altercation. “Yes, Captain Austin. After…some quick and heated discussion, I have convinced the others to accept your offer.”

  She stood rigid and unbending, but DuQuesne knew Ariane very, very well, and he could see the slight shift of her feet, hear the tiny catch in her breath, that showed her great relief. “We will offer no resistance. I will notify you when we are all in the designated quarters. This will take no longer than ten minutes.”

  “Acceptable, Guidemaster. I will await your transmission.” She turned to Orphan and Sethrik as the picture faded. “Are we sure there are no weapons they can be preparing for use against us?”

  “The ship has effectively no power. The only energy available will be in portable devices,” Orphan answered after a moment. “If they assembled a large number of such—say, rifles, pistols, and so on—they could make a fairly powerful bomb. But they would have to get it outside of Thilomon and onto our hull. Once we have brought them into the cargo bay, it will be quite easy to monitor for any movement. If they attempt to o
pen any door, leave by any route, we simply drop them out into Arenaspace and fire.”

  Sethrik bobbed his agreement. “The larger explosive warheads…those could pose a problem. But again, they must be maneuvered into place.”

  “Hmm. But one of those could still do damage to Zounin-Ginjou even from within the salvaged piece we bring on board.”

  “Possibly,” Sethrik answered, and gave an almost cheery wing-snap. “But we do have the last data download from her command structure following the battle. Before transferring them we can hook back in and just check the readiness systems to see if any of the major weapons have been moved or tampered with since.”

  “Good enough, then,” Orphan agreed.

  The communications panel beeped. “Captain Austin, we are now secure.”

  “Thank you, Guidemaster. Now I must caution you again that there must be no resistance. We will also be checking to determine if any large weapons, such as missile warheads, are not in their proper locations. If any such are found to be unaccounted for, I will have the entire ship destroyed. Is that understood?”

  A pause. “Understood.” Hancray’s voice was tense.

  “Do you require a few moments to verify that all such weapons are accounted for?”

  Relief was evident in his reply. “I would greatly appreciate it.”

  “As you called back within five minutes, I will give you the additional five I had already granted you. Starting now.”

  DuQuesne grinned. From Hancray’s tone, I’ll bet he’d just found out some loyalist group had brought on a big bomb without telling him. Now he’s got the motivation to get the thing off his ship. Maybe they’ll get out of this alive after all.

  A few minutes later, Hancray reported that he was certain everything was in order. Orphan and Sethrik verified this with a temporary low-power reboot of Thilomon’s main operational system.

  Simon, meanwhile, had somehow brought up a diagram of the interior structure of Thilomon. “Here, Orphan. If you use your energy beams along these lines, you should be able to safely cut it out of the surrounding ship. It should then be easy to drag on board.”

  “Truly, Doctor Sandrisson, you astonish me. Yet your information appears quite accurate, if I am to judge by Sethrik’s expression.”

  “Quite accurate,” Sethrik confirmed.

  “Brace yourselves, Guidemaster Hancray. We are about to cut you free.”

  Energy weapons from Zounin-Ginjou’s forward batteries struck out with surgical precision, cutting along four perfect geometric lines. A rectangular section of Thilomon slowly floated free, and the top and bottom were also cut off by those irresistable beams of light. Zounin-Ginjou moved slowly in, caught each end of the now-tumbling wreckage with a manipulator, and drew the boxy assemblage into its cargo bay. “Blessed prisoners are now onboard,” Orphan announced.

  “Right,” DuQuesne said, and grabbed up his toolbox. “C’mon, Wu. You’ll keep an eye out while I hook ’em up to power to keep their lights on, air flowing, and toilets flushing. Once that’s done, we can get the hell out of here!”

  Chapter 42.

  “You clear on what you want us to do, Ariane?”

  She could still feel the uncertainty boiling inside her. Maybe it never goes away. Or at least I’d better hope it doesn’t. The last thing she ever wanted was to get used enough to commanding people that she stopped doubting that she was right.

  But I still have to act like I’m right. “I think so.”

  She stood and faced the small group around the conference table on Zounin-Ginjou. A very small group when you consider that in this room are people making decisions for three separate Factions. “Sethrik, Orphan, you are technically equal in rank to me, so—”

  “Please, Captain Austin,” interrupted Sethrik. “We know the situation. This is a point of choice and honor for Humanity. Unless I think your course is insane, I am ready to follow you.”

  “And perhaps even if it is insane,” Orphan put in with his usual ironic humor. “Given how often you humans make a habit of insanity.”

  She smiled at that. “All right. Well, we’ve gone over what we could drag out of Thilomon’s databanks, especially Vantak’s private files and what Vantak carried with him when he got aboard Zounin-Ginjou. He was awfully cautious, but I think we should be able to use some of what he had planned for our own purposes—especially to flush out the masterminds of the whole thing.”

  “If I can get back to our Embassy,” Sethrik said, “I should be able to obtain the final pieces of the puzzle. It is evident that after the basic processing I was expected to return. Therefore they will expect to meet with me and be…debriefed. If of course I had been killed, Vantak would likely have been appointed Leader, but since Vantak indicated my loyalty was to be renewed, I must assume—and so would our unknown but suspected conspirators—that I would have remained Leader of the Blessed in the Arena.”

  That sparked an important memory.” A question about that, Sethrik,” Ariane said. “Why don’t they routinely do this loyalty renewal treatment? Not that I’m complaining, mind you—without you helping we’d have been totally screwed—but I’m wondering why the Minds don’t just do that every year, or six months, or whatever, making sure that you guys never get to the point that you start thinking outside whatever box they have around you.”

  “The short answer is that they do…over fairly long periods. But…” Sethrik’s wings scissored as Orphan’s often did when he was uncertain how to respond. Somewhat to her surprise, Orphan spoke—and with a startlingly gentle tone. “Sethrik, I will answer—if I may?”

  At the Blessed’s gesture of assent, Orphan faced them. “To some of you, such as Doctor DuQuesne, the answer may be obvious. But it is a matter of compromise, as with many things.

  “You know that the Minds were forced to give the Blessed at least some independence, or they would be unable to function at all in the Arena. And in fact, that independence must include the ability to evaluate, adapt, change, or the Blessed would be hopelessly crippled in the Arena. They would be…what was the phrase you once used? Ah, yes, the eternal ‘clueless newbies’ of the Arena, programmed perhaps with a wide array of facts and techniques but unable to encompass the fluid life of the Arena.

  “So the Minds must compromise and balance between allowing their people to develop these capabilities, learn from others, forging alliances, building…a rapport with other species, and keeping them from developing,” he gestured to himself, “an unfortunate longing for even more independent thinking.”

  “It is somewhat more than that,” Sethrik said. “Even the Minds…have limits. One of those limits is that it is effectively impossible for them to restructure someone’s entire manner of thinking, eliminating the independence of thought, and still leave them with not merely the memories but the experiences that brought them to that point. They can give to one so processed the facts, the sequences of events, but if they were to leave in the emotional and event context…the processing would be self-reversing in extremely short order. This means that to do so—especially to the Leader of the Blessed or others who frequently interact with outsiders of high rank and importance—risks severely damaging any such connections; one of us who is so…changed cannot conceal that they no longer have the same affection—or, in truth, even animus or curiosity—towards those with whom they have had extensive contact.”

  “So they have to guess when things are about to go south and order—or drag—you in at the last minute?” she asked. It was a horrific thought. “Have you…”

  “Once before, yes. I can now deduce what I lost.” He looked to Orphan. “And understand from whence came the Liberated.”

  “So you are the Leader of the Blessed to Serve still,” Ariane said, continuing.

  “As far as I am aware, yes. They had certainly not performed the usual procedure to remove a Leader, and I do not believe they would have set such a thing in motion unless they had reason to believe their plans had failed and that nothing could
be recovered—a conclusion that they will only now be reaching.”

  “All right.” She looked at DuQuesne and Simon, who was now thankfully looking somewhat better; during the journey to drop off the Blessed prisoners they’d enforced bed rest on the scientist, and his medical nanos had taken the chance to do some real work. It would still be awhile before Simon Sandrisson was really back to his former self, but he no longer looked like someone incompetently raised from the dead. “The first step is to get Sethrik back to the Arena and let him get to the Blessed Faction House. I think we have an excellent plan to do that.”

  “Simple ruse,” DuQuesne agreed with a grin. “We just apparently arrive after having completed our ship-transport gig. The only people who could possibly put that into question are people on our Sphere who’d be able to figure out that the timing was a little off.”

  “Hopefully they won’t look too hard at Zounin-Ginjou itself,” Simon said. “I know you’ve done miracles on covering up the damage in the last week or so, but anyone who looks at the wrong areas carefully will know there’s something wrong.”

  “You’re right, Simon,” Ariane said. “But the deception doesn’t have to last too long.”

  “I have every intention of making that part as short as possible,” Orphan said. “That is why we will transport Sethrik—and Captain Austin and Sun Wu Kung—to my Embassy first in standard cargo containers. Sethrik can then leave by a somewhat more concealed exit that I had constructed some years ago, while I publicly depart for my ship and leave—bringing her back for repairs.”

  “I admit, I don’t exactly like the idea you’ll be gone,” DuQuesne said, and she smiled. We really used to distrust Orphan…and he gave us plenty of reasons to. I still think he’s got other agendas. But he sure demonstrated what side he was on this time. “But you’ve got the right idea. That way if no one notices the damage to Zounin-Ginjou in about an hour, they’ll never have a chance to see it, and our story will be pretty close to airtight.”