Morgan's Return

by Greta van Der Rol

  Tullamarran hovered behind her. "She insisted," he whispered.

  She stumbled forward, grasping the back of Jirra's navigator's chair to steady herself.

  "Morgan, you belong in the sick bay." Makasa strained toward her against the grip of the harness.

  Dropping into the engineer's chair, Morgan managed a grin. "Not much good if we're all dead. Speaking of which… we're playing dead?"

  "Yes." From Davaskar.

  "Gives me a chance to get a better feel for what they are," she murmured. "Nothing alive. I don't think. No pilot. Oh, fuck."

  Ravindra saw it, a little after she did. The mother ship. Vulsaur tumbled with the dead transport, and the ominous cigar approached. Closer it came and closer, until the vessel almost filled the screen. Unlike the domes, its hull wasn't smooth. Lumps and bumps covered the surface, with no sign of a straight line. Lights like those around the fringes of the domes shimmered in a few places, what they did, he had no idea. He'd never seen a ship like this. Totally alien, unlike the model ships he and Morgan had seen in the laboratory, or anywhere else. Was this another of his long-lost ancestor's experiments?

  He ran his tongue over his dry lips. Whatever it was, either the mother ship hadn't believed the ruse, or it wanted to be certain. Ravindra sent a silent prayer to Kotluk. You never knew.

  Davaskar was rigid in his chair, his lips pressed together. A bead of sweat traced a path down the side of Makasa's face and disappeared into the stiff collar.

  Morgan let out a long, gusting breath. "Stand easy. It's closing in on the battleship. I fear Maximus hasn't got long to go." She looked first at Makasa, and then at him. "When that ship blows, we're not far enough away and the shields aren't good enough. I'm going machine meld. I'm going to need everything I've got to get us out of here, past those domes, or we're history."

  "Morgan, wait." Makasa raised a hand, the gold ring on every finger glinting. "Listen to me, Ravindra. This is very dangerous for her. We don't recommend machine meld for any but fit Supertechs. We could lose her."

  "Relax, Makasa," Morgan said. "If we don't win this little battle right here, we won't have a chance to win the war." She made eye contact with Ravindra. "Whatever happens, Ashkar, I love you."

  Ravindra's eyes prickled. She'd never said anything like that in public before.

  Morgan lay back in the captain's chair, took one deep breath and then it was as if she was dead.

  "All hands, make sure your harnesses are secure. This might get a little bit rugged." The voice that spoke through Vulsaur's systems was hers.

  Makasa gritted his teeth.

  "You've never been a combat commander, have you, Admiral?" Ravindra said.

  The thick nostrils flared. "We all have our parts to play. Combat was not mine."

  "Some combat decisions are difficult. She made it for you. Pray she got it right." And comes back. Please.

  "I don't know how it came to this. I don't know where those… things… came from. I don't know how we're going to fight them. I've lost two Supertechs out here. I don't want to make it three." Makasa's Adam's apple bobbed.

  "If it's any consolation, she designed this ship herself, and oversaw its construction. If she can't get us out of this, nobody can."

  "And that's a fact," Davaskar said.

  The ship still tumbled with the rest of the debris. Ravindra kept an eye on the screens. With each rotation, he got a view of the mother ship now closing in on Maximus. The battleship didn't look too bad, except for a few jagged holes. But then, ships didn't burn in space. If he'd had any doubt, though, the small transports hurrying away from the shattered superstructure, like ants from a log, told the story. They'd abandoned ship.

  What was Morgan waiting for?

  The engines roared into life. Vulsaur thrust hard up, loosed a missile at the wreckage that had disguised her, then shot away. Even with the acceleration shielding, his head was pushed back into the seat. Beyond the shattered transport, Maximus erupted. He grinned. She'd cut it fine but only someone like her could be so precise.

  "Domes ahead," Davaskar said.

  Ravindra concentrated on his breathing, slowing down his heart rate. There was nothing he could do but hang on. Makasa's fingers clutched at his seat, although the man appeared to be calm otherwise. But then, such behavior was expected of senior officers, wasn't it? The sensors in the crew cabin showed Eastly was too miserable to be frightened. Prasad and Tullamarran were stoic, as always.

  The harness tightened across Ravindra's body as the ship dropped. A moment later his back was forced down into the chair. Then a sideways move that would have thrown him to the floor had he not been strapped in.

  Makasa gasped out a breath.

  "When she said it might get rough…" Davasakar clenched his teeth as the ship jolted again, "she certainly meant it."

  A blast of energy grazed the shields, leaving a trail of fading blue. Vulsaur's engines roared. The console flashed warnings, then, "Switching to shift drive."

  The flashing lights switched off. The roar disappeared, replaced by the higher pitched hum of the shift drive. Ravindra refused to sigh with relief, however much he felt like it. He flicked the switch to withdraw the harness, and stepped over to Morgan.

  "Well done, my love. You can come back, now."

  No answer. Makasa stood beside him, stinking of sweat. His heart hammering, Ravindra took Morgan's wrist. Yes, a pulse beat, strong and slow.

  "She's gone too far." Makasa bent over and patted her cheek. "Morgan… Morgan."

  But the only response was a slight rolling of her head.

  "What do you mean, she's gone too far?" Ravindra asked.

  Eyes as hard as stone stared at him. "I warned you this might happen. It's seductive for them, this machine meld. The large implant in their heads takes over from their human mind. It's as if they're part of the ship. It's how she could make those split-second decisions, how she could push the engines within an ace of too far. More than one Supertech has told me they've had to force themselves out of it, back to their bodies."

  "And her body? What runs that?"

  "Her human mind is still there, running her body. But the computer part doesn't care. In fact, I think the computer part knows her body is injured and doesn't want to go there."

  "How do we bring her back?"

  Makasa's lips twisted into a parody of a smile. "Don't ask me. She has to want to come back. Once, a Supertech was very badly injured, and died. One other instance was recorded, where a Supertech was injured, but returned eventually."

  The ships' alarms signaled a return to real space. Morgan had programmed a very short hop. Ravindra stretched out an arm to steady himself as the forward thrusters slowed the ship. A reddish gas giant, multi-colored streaks of cloud covering its surface, appeared in the screens. A moon orbited not far away. He had no idea where they were and right now it didn't matter.

  Ravindra gazed down at Morgan. She looked lovely, her features relaxed in sleep, her hair like a halo around her head. What would make her want to come back? One thing came to mind.

  Kneeling beside her he pressed his lips to hers, pushing his tongue into her mouth. No response. He pushed a hand inside her suit, his fingers groping for her nipple. It lay smooth and flat on her breast. Come on, Morgan. You want this.

  The skin tightened under his fingers, became a nub. He flicked, squeezed, while his tongue explored her mouth.

  She moaned, a contented rumble deep in her throat. He lifted his head but kept fondling her breast. "Morgan?"

  She blinked. He thought the joy would explode in his head.

  Makasa, grinning, put a hand on Ravindra's shoulder.

  Davaskar chuckled. "That seems to have worked."

  Morgan dredged up a smile. "Hiya."

  Holding her hand, Ravindra said, "What happens when you're like that? Didn't you want to come back?"

  She shook her head. "I'm soaring with the ship. Especially in a fight like that. It's fun, a challenge. And my body hurt." He
r voice was little more than a whisper. She sighed.

  Ravindra unclipped the harness and lifted her before she could stand. "Time for some sleep."

  She raised a hand, resisting him. "Ashkar, we need to sort out what to do."

  "You need sleep. We can summon your Coalition's fleet. Or Makasa can."

  "No, please, we need to plan." She fixed him with those impenetrable mercury eyes.

  He straightened. Damn her, she was right.

  Chapter 32

  Ravindra set Morgan down on her feet, but refused to relinquish the arm around her waist. She felt fragile, more fragile than he could remember since her recovery from the encounter with Artemis.

  He'd called a meeting in the common room, waiting for the others to leave the bridge first. When they were gone, he guided Morgan to a table and slid in beside her.

  Makasa, wedged in at another table, eyed Morgan, frowning thoughtfully. "You don't look well."

  "I'm not," she said. "But needs must, huh? War does that."

  The fat admiral sniffed, shifting uncomfortably in a seat too narrow for his bulk. The table edge almost cut him in half.

  Huh. If he lost some of that fat from his frame, he'd be much more comfortable. How could a man let himself get like that? Ravindra accepted wine from Tullamarran. Davaskar, Jirra and Prasad sat together cradling glasses, but Eastly was missing. "Where is Eastly?"

  Davaskar pointed a finger in the direction of the med center without letting go of his glass. "With Partridge."

  "How is Partridge?" Ravindra asked his man servant.

  "Bad, Srimana. His leg is crushed." Frowning, he lowered his gaze. "I've managed to stop the bleeding."

  "You did your best. Will he live?"

  "I think so," Tullamarran said. "But he will need a new leg. And he'll be ill for some time."

  "Fetch Eastly."

  The man bowed and hurried off but he was back in moments. "He won't come, Srimana."

  Pestilential human. Ravindra stood, and strode down to the med center himself.

  Eastly seemed almost to be in a trance, holding Partridge's hand, watching his chest rise and fall. Ravindra stood beside him, forcing the man to look up simply by being there. Eastly's eyes were red, the whites bloodshot.

  "Come and eat," Ravindra said.

  "I'm not hungry."

  "You can't do anything useful here. Tullamarran tells me your… mate will survive."

  Eastly tried to stifle a sob. Blinking, he said, "It's all my fault. I'm sure of it."

  Ridiculous self-pity. Ravindra lifted the secretary out of the chair with one hand. "Then join in our discussion and see if you can help." He almost threw the man out of the door.

  Ravindra sat next to Morgan, while Eastly perched on the edge of a seat nearest the door. Tullamarran busied himself serving the heated food to everyone. Ravindra considered warning Makasa the food was spicy, and thought better of it.

  "Well, Jirra? Where are we?" he asked the first officer.

  "Still in Ushas's system, Srimana, In orbit around the star's fourth planet. It has seventy-three moons. It'll be hard for anyone to pick us out in the noise." She directed a nod to Morgan, an unsaid well done.

  "What do you want to do now, Admiral?" Ravindra asked Makasa. This was his problem, after all. He would have loved to add that it had nothing to do with the Manesai.

  "Can we get a signal to Torreno?" Makasa asked Morgan.

  "Sure. What do you want to say? Alien jellyfish have attacked Ushas?"

  The fat man frowned. "Flippancy is unseemly. Those jellyfish have destroyed a battleship, and no doubt most, if not all, of the men and women who served on her."

  Silence, except for a small gulping sound from Eastly.

  Covering her mouth with her hand, Morgan cleared her throat. "Sorry. I know. I guess what I was trying to say is, what can we tell them that's useful? We don't want them to head into a situation where they can't defend themselves."

  Makasa tried to sit back, wriggling in the seat. "I expect the Fleet will send a task force, but bear in mind there is every chance that the mother ship will think its job done here, and head for Torreno. Or some other star system."

  Nods and frowns.

  "Or maybe go back home," Prasad said.

  Davaskar paused in the act of lifting his food to his mouth. "Do you think that's likely?"

  "That's the point, isn't it?" Prasad said. "Anything is possible. We don't know anything about these… things."

  Very true. Ravindra swallowed, and put down his fork. Prasad so often came to the crux of the issue. Which was, of course, his job. "So, Morgan. What can you tell us that might assist Admiral Makasa's people?"

  Her lips twitched in a half smile. "Bear in mind some of this is guess work, okay?" She waited for the nods and murmurs of assent. "And please help me with this. I don't see and record everything. What one of you has to offer may change our understanding."

  Morgan paused for a moment, head bowed as if in prayer. She looked up, her gaze scanning all of them. "I don't think those dome things are ships like Vulsaur." She patted the seat. "I don't think they have a crew. But I don't think they're alive, either. I mean, they look like jellyfish, but they're not. They're controlled by the cigar, the mother ship."

  "Why do you think so?" Davaskar asked.

  "I caught signals, going to the domes, and back from them. When I say signals, they're not something we would recognize, but definitely a form of directed radiation."

  Makasa leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "Can you read them?"

  "No."

  "But you could read these people's systems." He encompassed everyone in the room with a sweep of his arm. "And you could read the AI. Artemis."

  "I had weeks to learn the Manesai systems on Admiral Ravindra's flagship, Vidhvansaka. And Artemis shared some data with me. Mind you, I couldn't do anything but the simplest things on Artemis. Find my way around, run the lifts and so on. Besides, the AI system was built here." She pointed a finger at the tabletop. "In what became the Coalition, so I guess I had some familiarity with the thought processes."

  Makasa's face was inscrutable, no doubt processing the notion that his precious Supertechs were not infallible.

  "But these domes are totally alien?" Ravindra prompted.

  "That's right. I haven't been…" Morgan stopped. Ravindra could almost see the word she didn't say. 'Programmed'. "That is, these things are totally alien to me. Yet if the domes are sort of like our fighters, then the mother ship has to communicate somehow."

  "How can we fight them?" Prasad put in. "Can we prevent the transmissions from one to the other?"

  "Maybe. We could certainly set up interference, and I can relay some information to the Fleet's Supertechs to come up with a suitable routine."

  "Good," Ravindra said. "We can do that."

  Makasa nodded, his jowls wobbling. "That will be useful. Morgan, what has Ushas got to do with this? Or to put it another way, why Ushas?"

  And now we come to it.

  Everyone looked at Makasa, while Morgan scratched her nose.

  "If this was some sort of premeditated attack, would they not have attacked a military base, or our capital?" Makasa added.

  Prasad's nod was emphatic, indicating he had come to the same conclusion as Makasa. For all his obscene bulk, the man was no fool.

  "They came there for a reason. Well, Mister Eastly? Can you give us any ideas?" Ravindra asked.

  Eastly jumped. "I… I don't know. The Temple?"

  "No," Makasa said. "The Temple isn't new. Nothing has changed about it. There must be something to trigger a visit now, unless it was a coincidence. Remember what you said, Morgan, that it was as if the first two came for a look, and then Cruickshank fired on them. This has… must have… something to do with you." Those black eyes with their white surrounds fixed their gaze on Ravindra's face.

  Ravindra steepled his hands, pushing down the anger. The man's accusation was obvious. In Makasa's position he would have been a
sking the same thing. "You know these things are not connected to us."

  Makasa's lips curved in a cat's smile. "Because of Morgan, yes. But your visit has triggered a response. Why would that be?"

  Morgan stared at Makasa, her silver eyes glinting in the soft light of the cabin. She had her stubborn look on, where her chin jutted, and her nostrils flared. "Coincidence is possible. These things happen. We didn't do anything to do with space. What about your friend Cruickshank? Maybe she summoned something from the outer limits."

  "Cruickshank, as far as I can tell, was chasing you," Makasa said, jabbing a finger at her. "And she did fire on them."

  "Yep. Maybe they just got in her way. I don't think she was thinking rationally at that stage."

  "You are certain you and your group did nothing? Did not cause the Ushas authorities to do something unusual?" Makasa asked, gazing around the group.

  "Oh, for fuck's sake. Everything we did was on the planet, and a lot was under the water." Morgan's mouth opened into an O. "Unless…"

  "Well?" Ravindra said the word, but all the others stared at her.

  "In the undersea lab, our ancestral friend had an engineering setup. Eastly fainted, and pressed a bunch of buttons and levers, and something happened." Her voice trailed off.

  Eastly doubled over, choking out a cry. "It was my fault. I did it."

  "Oh, pull yourself together," Morgan snapped. "You mucked about with things you didn't understand, but that last bit, you fainted. Not even I could see what you did."

  Makasa looked between them. "Is anyone going to tell me what you're talking about?"

  Morgan directed a last glare at Eastly. "Eastly triggered something, which caused a low hum that developed into a high-pitched whine, and sent a model ship out into the universe somewhere. He also managed to trigger the fire response because the place filled with carbon dioxide, so we had to run for it. Now, remember that these people were the ancestors of the Manesai. They must have developed some sort of incredible shift drive to move them across the galaxy at a speed we've nowhere near matched since. Not even Artemis moved at that speed."