Inherit the Stars

by Tony Peak

  Kivita swallowed and concentrated again.

  Her flesh seemed to melt off. The Sarrhdtuu’s complicated sequences, syntax, and alternate binary overwhelmed her mind.

  “It’s too much!” she shouted.

  “You will not harm the Narbas line anymore,” Navon said above her. Something hot passed before her face.

  Navon grunted. Kivita looked up.

  The Juxj Star glowed red-hot in Navon’s hands as he stared into its sinister depths.

  “No!” Kivita tried to knock it from his grasp, but in a manner of seconds, he crumpled beside her. An electrical wave pushed against her brain; then she sensed Navon reverse it onto itself.

  The Juxj Star shattered.

  Infinitesimal crystal shards rained over her as Navon’s lifeless eyes stared with the endless horrors enacted by Sarrhdtuu over the millennia.

  Sarrhdtuu warriors charged the circle of Kith, their sickle blades carving away gray limbs, cleaving through squat heads. Black claws eviscerated jelly bodies and sliced away carapace armor. Black and green blood splashed Kivita’s envirosuit. She wiped some off her faceplate.

  Kivita tried to calm herself, tried to concentrate on Juxj again. Depending on the Kith to save her amounted to a fool’s hope. If she gained control of the ship again, maybe she could—

  Merciless coils wrapped around Kivita’s legs and chest and lifted her twenty feet into the air. Zhhl’s sleek, crescent-shaped head studied her with ten purple eyes.

  “You humans are braver than your Vim masters. The Aldaakians, the Kith, the Ascali—all fight to cover Vim weakness. All lose because—”

  Zhhl jerked back as a piercing cry echoed in the chamber. Other Sarrhdtuu stalled in their tracks, and the few remaining Kith tore through them, while one cut through Zhhl’s coils. Kivita tumbled into the morass of bodies. Strong hands hefted her up.

  “You definitely need to close that thing!” Cheseia hauled Kivita atop a glowing terminal. Lacerations marred her envirosuit, and a crack ran along her faceplate.

  A few feet away, Zhara sang a simple, beautiful note. It soared in Kivita’s ears as well as her heart. With a strong mental push, she forced the platform to rise again with all three of them on it. Among the holograms above, Juxj hovered near the Portal’s lip with Arcuri’s Glory.

  37

  Ignoring the sweat sliding down his jowls, Dunaar gaped out the viewport. The gateway had opened just for him. Never in a thousand cryo dreams had he imagined the Vim would reveal themselves this way. After all his struggles, Dunaar would finally be rewarded. His sweating disease and thyroid might be cured; he’d receive honors beyond imagining for bringing humanity from darkness into the Vim’s holy light.

  But Zhhl’s betrayal had ruined all that.

  He would not be denied! Arcuri’s Glory drew nearer the Portal. Just a little farther, and he would be under the Vim’s protection. Almost there . . .

  “Rector, your orders?” Stiego asked, standing over the nav console. “Do we return fire?”

  “Maintain your course, Captain.”

  Violet beams from Juxj atomized another of the Vim craft.

  Dunaar dropped the Scepter and laid both trembling hands on the viewport. A catch in his throat forced him to cough. Shocked mutters and gasps filled the bridge.

  “Rector, if we continue, we will collide with those ships! We must fire on those Sarrhdtuu traitors!” Stiego’s holo monocle faded in and out.

  “No. We are almost there,” Dunaar whispered. Sweat rolled off his nose and down the viewport. “We cannot be stopped now.”

  The glorious images Bredine had shown him of a Rector leading his people across time and space to safety made Dunaar smile. What were beam weapons compared to the might of the Vim? They had built the very stars themselves. Built them especially for Dunaar.

  “Juxj has just destroyed the Thede ship and our remaining platoons! We have been betrayed, Rector!” Stiego ran over and shook Dunaar’s shoulder. “We cannot fight—”

  Arcuri’s Glory quavered.

  The security officer cleared his throat. “Rector, Aldaakian shuttles have strafed the starboard side. Sealing adjacent chambers.”

  Flailing bodies in red jumpsuits floated past the starboard viewport.

  “Do something!” Stiego yelled in Dunaar’s ear.

  Why hadn’t he listened to her? Bredine had warned him of enemies from the dark void. She wouldn’t have done so unless she really loved him. Skeletal bitch. Why had she left?

  He blinked and shook his head. He was the Rector. The guardian of humanity. The Vim would see he was their warrior, their protector. All would see now.

  “Rector!” Stiego cried.

  Dunaar shoved Stiego away. “Open fire on anything that moves! All batteries, now!” He grabbed the Scepter and turned back to the viewport. A second violet beam shot out, and a second Vim vessel exploded into dust.

  “Tracking shuttles now,” Stiego said, regaining his composure.

  Zhhl’s battleship neared the Portal, but Dunaar seethed. They would not take his reward from him. Too many believers had suffered; too many martyrs had died. Centuries of trust in the Sarrhdtuu had been subservience instead. This was a test from the Vim. He would not fail.

  “Fire on Juxj.” Dunaar squeezed the Scepter until the stone tore into his palms.

  Stiego hesitated. “Rector, those shuttles will—”

  “Fire!” Dunaar yelled.

  The port-side K-gun battery loosed its sabot rounds, each projectile soaring through the void like prayers escaping Dunaar’s lips. He gesticulated in blessing as the rounds penetrated Juxj’s starboard hull.

  “Again! Fire until nothing remains!” Dunaar shoved aside the security officer and jabbed the fire button himself. Three more kinetic salvos launched at Juxj. Each impact made Dunaar smile wider.

  Juxj’s violet beams ripped away armor plating, hull, and lives. Arcuri’s Glory shook. Warning alarms shrieked over the bridge.

  “Rector, we have lost all power on Starboard Deck Two, Section C. The forward hull has been breached in three places. We must draw away!” Stiego’s face pinched with fear.

  “You coward. Stay on course!” Dunaar raised the Scepter and ground his teeth.

  Two more violet beams darted from Juxj to the Vim starships.

  “Damn them!” Dunaar shouted. “Can’t you defeat them?” He swatted Stiego with the Scepter.

  Holding his head, Stiego examined more damage readouts on the terminal. “We cannot win this!”

  “Must I do all this myself?” His saliva splattered Stiego’s holo monocle.

  Others on the bridge stood in terrified silence. Lesser prophets cowered, eyes wide. Even the Proselytes grouped together, as if seeking protection in numbers. Dunaar feared the fools’ morale would falter as more Vim ships met destruction. All they’d been taught of Vim greatness had been scorched by Sarrhdtuu treachery.

  Had the Aldaakians been right in calling the Inheritor’s old allies the Vim’s true enemies? He leaned on the Scepter, sweat running down it from his hand. The strange gateway still lay open despite the Sarrhdtuu discharges. The Vim held it open for Dunaar, for all the frozen Rectors aboard. The promise of salvation was his if he just maintained courage and fortitude.

  The means mattered little.

  “Those shuttles are too small to target,” Stiego said. “They are nearing the bridge itself!”

  Dunaar knocked Stiego to the floor with the Scepter. “Maintain course and keep firing! Our deliverance is at hand—”

  “Incoming!” Stiego yelled, hands over his face.

  A single green beam flew from an Aldaakian shuttle as a violet one fired from Juxj. The Sarrhdtuu beam’s mauve brilliance tore away armor as the Aldaakian green beam slid on through. Dunaar shoved aside prophets and Proselytes as the beam struck. He stumbled into the corridor. />
  The entire ship rocked, and the bulkhead on Dunaar’s left collapsed as the bridge’s safety hatch sealed shut. A green flash blinded him, while intense heat puckered his flesh and singed his face. The hem of his robe caught flame, and the Scepter of Office grew too hot to hold. Hundreds of slag pellets rained over Dunaar.

  “Help! In the name of the Vim, I need—” Dunaar screamed as the heated slag sank into his flesh, burning as it went. Smoke billowed from the raw pink fissures. He toppled toward his personal chambers, but the entrance sealed shut. Cooled slag floated from the sandstone floor.

  “Vim . . . help me . . . I pray you . . .” Dunaar pulled himself along the plush red carpet. Over the intercom speaker, Stiego ordered all cabins and chambers sealed. His sight blurred. A horrible chill blanketed his charred body, alleviating the burning agony for a fleeting moment.

  He tried to pray, but the chill reached his lips.

  The melted bulkhead on his left drifted into space. Dunaar sucked in his breath as an impact nearby catapulted him toward the Portal.

  Vacuum cold numbed his body within seconds. The burning, the pain—all vanished. As the cold froze his lips shut and eyelids open, Dunaar turned end over end. One second he glimpsed Arcuri’s Glory and Juxj; the next, the yawning Vim Portal. His last vision of yellow stars, promising warmth and life, mocked him.

  • • •

  Everyone cheered as the Inheritor battleship maneuvered away from the Portal. Seul patted Taak’s shoulder, while the other Troopers cheered. Seul’s other hand left the firing manuals, stiff and weak.

  Shutting her eyes, she thought of Kael and smiled.

  “An Inheritor-class ship has exited the Sarrhdtuu vessel,” Taak said.

  Seul studied the console readout. “That’s Fanged Pauper.” A frown pulled her smile down as the scanner revealed no Savant was aboard. Kivita remained a prisoner, then, or worse.

  Optimism ended as the Sarrhdtuu vessel disintegrated the two other Aldaakian shuttles. Seul knelt beside Taak’s seat, her damaged cryoports jolting with agony.

  “Taak, engage the Sarrhdtuu ship. Mirror Frevyx’s trajectory.” She keyed the mic. “Sar, Jaah here. We’re tailing you in support.”

  The shuttle changed course and flew away from the Inheritor battleship. Every Trooper gazed along with Seul out the cockpit’s starboard viewport. Archivers had never mentioned Vim wormholes or gateways. The presence of functioning Vim starships, flaring yellow stars, and a world covered in green and blue held them in awe. Ancient tales of Khaasis’s glaciers, lakes, and frost groves made Seul’s heart quicken.

  “I want her to see this someday,” she whispered. “I want my daughter to know we . . .” Seul coughed and patted Kael’s lifeless hand.

  “Think you can target those Sarrhdtuu beamers while I skim this heap’s surface, Captain Jaah?” Taak asked.

  “Of course. Troopers, it’s been an honor.” Seul glanced at everyone aboard. All nodded to her and touched their chest cryoports.

  All her cryoports had numbed, and the muscles in her arms and shoulders grew weaker. Soon she’d perish, despite her polyarmor’s sealing of her wounds. Right now, though, she didn’t have time to die. Gripping the firing manuals again, she selected a target and pressed the button. The beamer fired, popping apart a Sarrhdtuu weapon like a Naxan eggshell.

  • • •

  The platform stopped rising as Kivita refocused on Juxj’s systems. Her mind delved deep into Sarrhdtuu data, a clutter of alien codes and garbled records. Thousands of coordinate sets, schematics, planetary statistics, engineering breakthroughs—knowledge stolen from countless Vim Cradles and Savants.

  “Yes, Child of Narbas. Interface and destroy them.” Zhhl’s voice rang inside her head. Kivita covered her ears and stumbled.

  The holo display above them showed a Vim craft crash into another one. The Portal’s six components flashed red.

  “No,” Kivita mumbled.

  “Fulfill your purpose. Decode and compile the destruction intended for us.” Zhhl’s words hummed throughout Juxj itself. More Sarrhdtuu warriors slid from walls and alcoves.

  “No!” Kivita screamed. Cheseia and Zhara tried to steady her. Their combined voices grew weak, and their furred bosoms heaved with effort.

  The humming became a roar in her ears.

  All the dreams she’d had since Xeh’s Crown, all the sensations she’d felt since Vstrunn, blasted open her consciousness. The impossibility of knowing each star’s name, in a dictionary of a billion names, flowed through her. The location of ten thousand demolished systems beyond the Cetturo Arm made her moan with fear and pain.

  “I’ll . . . I’ll destroy you,” she gasped, her thoughts melding with Juxj’s weapon systems. “I’ll destroy you!”

  “The more you learn, the more you interface,” Zhhl said.

  Juxj’s beamer incinerated another Vim craft on the holo display. This time, Kivita sensed the connection from her mind to the weapon placement. She’d targeted the victims; she’d activated the merciless violet light.

  Coils latched onto the platform from below, and six warriors dangled from the ceiling, their coils melding into the hull itself.

  Cheseia hugged Kivita and sang louder. Zhara stalked to the platform’s edge, her voice ululating throughout the massive chamber.

  So much knowledge, spread over a vast, infinite fabric. Kivita didn’t want to see, hear, or know anymore. She wanted to purge it all from her mind and become the salvager she used to be. A simpler life, but cold and lonely. Wisdom had revealed so much, only to shackle her with slavery after all.

  Dammit, she had to concentrate! She refocused her mind and screamed.

  The entire ship shook. Kivita gasped, and Cheseia yanked her back from the platform’s edge. Warriors clambered up after them, while more dropped from above. Below, Zhhl absorbed dozens of other Sarrhdtuu, growing into a tangle of coils, eyes, and puckering maws.

  Zhara sang louder, and even Zhhl’s movements slowed.

  Two Sarrhdtuu warriors fired their wrist cylinders. Violet beams atomized Zhara.

  Cheseia’s voice faltered; then she ripped away her helmet. Her tears splashed Kivita’s faceplate. A single note stunned the warriors for a moment as the Ascali’s body shivered.

  Kivita’s heart sank into a cesspit of fury. Thoughts raced along alien neurons; her desires merged with Sarrhdtuu brains. As she clenched her teeth, tears wet her own cheeks. So they liked to fight and kill, huh? She’d oblige them.

  Eight Sarrhdtuu warriors vaporized one another with their wrist beamers.

  Cheseia pulled Kivita behind a glowing terminal, while more warriors battled each other. Curved blades sliced off coils or cleaved into crescent-shaped heads. Juxj shook and creaked as the ship’s readouts flashed in Kivita’s mind: damage from kinetic sabots and shuttle beamers. A trawler skimming the hull, its transmitter sending requests into her mind. Arcuri’s Glory, withdrawing from the Portal.

  Gargantuan coils crushed the terminals around Kivita. Green jelly and carapace showered over her. Zhhl, now thirty feet tall, crawled along one wall toward her.

  “You cannot reverse what you have initiated, Child of Narbas. A parasite cannot hold its host captive.” Zhhl dashed aside battling warriors with its coils. Jelly splattered the walls, then morphed into them.

  Body numb with weariness, Kivita tried to form a plan. Focusing on the ship’s beamers only activated them against the Vim. C’mon, think! What else could she do? The Vim Portal’s components blinked red again on the holo display. Juxj’s port-side hull neared one as it entered the Portal itself.

  A coil whooshed over Kivita’s head.

  Cheseia shoved Kivita back and confronted Zhhl, her song shrill and desperate. The huge Sarrhdtuu lurched back, coils hanging limp.

  “I will always truly sing the ‘Chant to Revelas’ for you,” Cheseia said as she turned. Russet
orbs shimmered with tears, but her mouth curved into a smile. “Zhara will certainly sing, too. Tell Sar I always—”

  One of Zhhl’s coils wrapped around Cheseia’s torso. She stood defiant as three more coils obstructed her from Kivita’s sight. Zhhl’s purple gaze glowered at her from twenty different eyes. The coils constricted, then squeezed.

  “I’ll tell him,” Kivita whispered. With her remaining strength, she forced her thoughts into Juxj’s drive systems.

  A burst of power raced throughout the starship. Warriors aimed their cylinders at her. Zhhl loomed above her, coils raised.

  “Obey us, parasite! Obey—”

  The ship’s starboard wing collided with one of the Portal components.

  A silent, concussive force rippled across Juxj. A million voices ordered her to change course, but Kivita, through thought alone, nudged Juxj into the next Portal component.

  A thunderous pop crackled in the chamber. Sparks flew from bulkheads, terminals. The liquids flowing along walls and floors stopped, then burst out in sticky geysers. Sarrhdtuu tried to morph back into walls, while Juxj’s port-side hull snapped open. Bulkheads folded over as a blue shock wave spread into the chamber. Kivita screamed as her helmet’s aural sensors shattered from the external noise. Her mental connection with Juxj snapped, as if someone had doubled her spine over.

  Fingers and toes went numb; then her tongue stuck to her teeth. Hair stabbed into her scalp like needles. Her bladder relaxed, and a painful ripple traversed her temples.

  Zhhl’s coils reached for her. “You found them for us! Interface with me and understand! They must be eliminated!”

  Kivita’s mind lashed out with a mental storm.

  The entire ship decompressed. Bodies, coils, weapons, and terminals shot out into space.

  “Interface!” Zhhl’s voice stabbed into her mind as a jagged bulkhead impaled its body. Though jelly globules scattered from its wound into the vacuum, Zhhl struggled toward her. Its coils lashed after Kivita. One brushed her feet.

  The blue shock wave incinerated Zhhl as it continued on through the rest of Juxj.