She checked the console. ‘Yes, why?’
‘We can’t run, we can’t fight, we can’t hide, but we can talk.’
‘Wynn, what do you mean?’
‘We contact the Fenrir and tell them we surrender.’
THE CLOUD WATCHER
Gofal gazed into the vast storm that battered the little ship. It had taken all his energy to remain attached during their escape from Melchior. He had found refuge just behind the bridge, tucked beneath the sensor pod for protection. Even so, he was badly damaged from the EMP and in need of power. He had tried to tap into the ship’s supplies but his host was as drained as he was.
His predicament was poor, his chances of survival slim. But he looked out at the balletic movement of the gas clouds about him and he could not help but feel awe. If he was to die today, he was glad he had seen this with his own eyes.
Gofal checked the ship’s status once more, already knowing they were doomed. They would not make it through the Ouranos Cloud. He had come so close to completing his mission, only to fail at this last hurdle. He had survived the destruction of the Obsidian, he had tracked this survivor, he had confirmed his identity, he had endured an EMP blast, he had escaped the fall of Melchior, he had . . . but it was no good berating himself. He had done his best, that was all that really mattered.
He turned back to the view. He knew exactly how this storm front was formed, he could predict its movement with a certain level of accuracy. He knew everything about it, he could taste it and see into its molecular composition, but none of that detracted from its artistic splendor. At least he would have something beautiful to watch until his death. He thought about all the things that had befallen him and he realized how lucky he was.
SURRENDER
‘A signal?’ Orcades checked.
‘Yes, sir,’ the communications officer replied. ‘The transmission is coming from inside the Ouranos Cloud.’
Orcades smiled. ‘Well then, let’s hear it.’
A static-filled voice came from the console. ‘. . . merchant ship Lexica to the arkship Fenrir. I’m the one you’re hunting . . . I’m the survivor from the Obsidian. I want to negotiate terms for my surrender. Respond.’
Orcades’ eyes widened. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. ‘Negotiate?’ he said to himself, laughing. ‘The audacity of the man . . .’
He paced the flight deck, listening to the repeating message, then stopped at the windows and gazed at the violent clouds ahead. Could he really have survived? Orcades smiled again, almost admiring the gall of his prey, then he returned to the communications console.
‘Open a channel,’ he said quietly. The officer obeyed, nodding when the task was complete. Orcades straightened. ‘Lexica . . . this is the Fenrir. Who am I talking to?’
There was short pause, then the distorted voice returned. ‘I’ve already told you who I am.’
‘Your name, sir.’
‘You’ve chased me from the Obsidian. You’ve done everything you can to destroy me, but I’m still here. You know who I am. But you, I don’t know you.’
‘Heir Valtais Orcades Draig.’
The channel cracked with static.
‘I believe you wished to discuss your surrender,’ Orcades continued. ‘But tell me, sir . . . why do you wish to surrender? Out of fuel, perhaps? Air running low? What purpose does it serve you to give in now?’
‘Survival,’ the voice replied. ‘You’re right, we’re in bad shape here. You’re the better of two options. And I want to negotiate safe passage for my companion, in return for my surrender.’
‘Why do you suppose I would want your surrender?’ Orcades mused. ‘Your signal has been very useful, I have you locked on our scanners now. What’s stopping me from destroying you where you stand?’
‘You’ve thought me dead twice now, and you’ve been wrong both times. Could you be sure of destroying me a third time? Or would there always be a doubt in your mind? Could you sleep at night, certain of my death? Or would part of you wonder if I was still out here, plotting my revenge? My surrender is your only certainty, Draig. You can see me die with your own eyes.’
Orcades nodded. ‘You make a good point . . . but I sleep well at night. Very well. And I do not need your surrender, sir.’
Orcades pressed a button on the console and the channel broke off. He straightened his jacket, then he traversed the semi-circle of consoles to the weapons section. ‘You have a lock on that signal?’ he asked the officer at the console.
‘Yes, sir,’ the officer replied happily. ‘Target acquired and locked.’
‘Very good,’ Orcades said, making sure his voice carried across the flight deck. ‘Please, fire.’
EAVESDROPPING
Derward Tarkkail had been sleeping. It had begun as a simple meditation to help calm his thoughts, but exhaustion gnawed at his eyes, and he didn’t have the will to fight it.
He forced his eyes open, uncertain where he was, just for a second. Then he saw the bridge of the Leughadair and everything came back to his mind. He had escaped the terrible destruction of Melchior. He had followed Bara’s ship through the debris field, making sure he was undetected, just a shadow in amongst the wreckage. His ship was in blackout mode and gave off no signals that could be tracked with a standard scan.
But then Bara had made a mistake: she had powered up her systems and the arkship Fenrir had spotted her. Bara had set course for the Ouranos Cloud, and Derward had followed, watching with relief and awe as she outmaneuvered a volley of missiles from the Fenrir.
Derward stretched in his seat, listening to the crackle of the coms channel. He’d managed to tap into the Fenrir’s internal chatter and had learned a great deal from the formal chain of orders passed throughout the ship. It seemed like the newly-appointed Commodore was no longer in charge; orders were coming directly from Orcades Draig now. And Reader Durante was missing, presumed to be off-ship. Derward wondered where he might be. They had both been trained in the same stealth techniques. Durante would not be found by the Fenrir, unless he wanted to be.
He listened as the arkship prepared to leave; they presumed their last attack on Bara’s ship was a success. Lexica was destroyed and now the Fenrir was getting ready to depart. Good, that would make Derward’s job easier. He would wait until the Fenrir was underway before he rendezvoused with Lexica, he would have time to decide how much was wise to tell her and Wynn.
‘. . . is the merchant ship Lexica to the arkship Fenrir. I’m the one you’re hunting . . . I’m the survivor from the Obsidian. I want to negotiate terms for my surrender. Respond.’
Derward bolted upright, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. He checked the signal’s source: it was definitely coming from Lexica. If they were willing to give away their location they must be in worse shape that Derward supposed.
He powered up the ship, doing his best to conceal his new trajectory from the Fenrir. ‘I’m just an asteroid, I’m just and asteroid,’ he muttered as he worked.
‘. . . signal has been very useful, I have you locked on our scanners now.’ He recognized that voice immediately: Orcades Draig.
Derward calculated the distance between him and Lexica. This would be tight.
Wynn’s voice broke through the static. ‘My surrender is your only certainty, Draig. You can see me die with your own eyes.’ He sounded more confident now, in charge in spite of his predicament. But Wynn had miscalculated. Derward surmised what was about to happen. He plotted his course and rested his hand on the drive button, waiting.
‘. . . I sleep well at night. Very well. And I do not need your surrender, sir.’ Orcades again.
Derward cursed, knowing what would happen next. Even so, the sight of the missile launches on his console made his stomach turn. He hit the drive button and felt the G-force ram him into his seat.
THE VISITOR
‘What happened?’ Bara asked, leaning closer to Wynn.
‘They cut the channel,’ Wynn said with a feeling of fi
nality. ‘I don’t think they’re interested in my surrender. I’m sorry, Bara.’
‘I’m picking up a missile launch signal from the Fenrir, inbound to our location,’ Lexica said.
Bara closed her eyes. ‘Suggestions?’
‘None,’ Lexica replied.
‘How long have we got?’
‘Eighteen seconds. Would you like a countdown?’
‘No, thank you, Lex.’ Bara glanced at Wynn, her lip quivering. ‘This is it.’
Wynn nodded, feeling defeated. He stared out of the window at the distant shape of the arkship Fenrir and the approaching point of light. He was going to die, never knowing who he really was. All his questions would remain unanswered. Would it be painless? he wondered.
Then he saw a blur of movement, something approaching rapidly from the port side. Suddenly he could no longer see the arkship, or the missile. A new shape had blocked the view.
‘What was–’ he managed to say before the blast threw him backwards. The ship rocked violently, spinning away from a huge explosion. Alarms sounded across the console as Bara regained control.
‘Lex, shut off the alarms,’ she shouted. ‘Are we silent?’
‘No external signals,’ Lexica confirmed.
‘Good.’ Bara let the ship drift, the source of the explosion rising and setting in the bridge windows. ‘Now, what the hell just happened?’
‘Something obstructed the missile’s path,’ Lexica replied. ‘The missile detonated on impact with the object.’
‘An object? What sort of object?’
‘Hard to tell. It appeared to be an asteroid but it was moving very quickly, and seemed to adjust its course. That could have been caused by the storm current, or–’
‘Or it was a ship,’ Wynn deduced.
The fiery debris came into view once more, it’s mass expanding.
‘The arkship Fenrir is moving away.’ Lexica said.
‘They think they destroyed us,’ Bara mused.
‘Well, they destroyed something,’ Wynn replied. ‘Could it have been a drone?’
Bara shook her head. ‘Too big for a drone. If it wasn’t an asteroid it was almost certainly a ship. Could have been under computer guidance.’
‘I am picking up another object on an intercept trajectory,’ Lexica informed them. ‘It is much smaller.’
‘A lifeboat?’ Bara asked.
‘The size and configuration does match some standard single-person lifeboats. It is moving with the debris field, but making minor adjustments to its path to bring it in line with us.’
Wynn stared at Bara, uncertain what this meant. He was still getting used to the idea that he was alive.
It took fifteen minutes for the other craft to get close enough for them to spot it out of the window.
‘It is a lifeboat, I think,’ Bara laughed. ‘I’ve never seen one so compact. Someone survived that blast.’
‘And they look like they want to dock.’ Wynn replied. ‘Should we let them?’
Bara shrugged. ‘No fuel, not much air . . . I don’t think we have much choice. Besides, I want to see who saved us, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Wynn replied. In spite of their situation he felt a flurry of excitement as the lifeboat approached.
Gradually, the two ships adjusted their positions until they moved as one. The lifeboat inched closer and closer to Lexica’s docking ring and, with a barely audible thud, it made contact.
‘Shall we see who’s come for dinner?’ Bara grinned as she unbuckled her harness and floated towards the door.
Wynn laughed, joining her as they moved through the ship. Without gravity, he was soon completely disorientated, but Bara knew her way, leading them towards the docking hatch. As they approached the mechanism was already beginning to turn.
‘Here we go,’ Bara mumbled, her grin disappearing.
The circular door hissed, then began to rotate, slicing into the hull to reveal a darkened void beyond. A hand reached out from the lifeboat and found Bara’s. She helped the figure, pulling him into the light.
Wynn smiled with relief at the sight of a familiar face out here in the middle of the Ouranos Cloud.
‘Derward?’ Bara laughed. ‘How the hell did you find us?’
‘I’d say it was nice to see you,’ Derward said wearily, ‘but given the circumstances . . .’
‘It’s still good,’ Bara laughed, comforting the visitor with her arm.
‘What’s our situation?’ Derward asked as he rested against the wall.
Bara’s smile faded. ‘Grim. The Fenrir’s leaving, but we don’t have much of anything.’
Derward nodded knowingly as he returned to the lifeboat’s hatch. He opened a control panel and worked through a series of functions. ‘I’m transferring my lifeboat’s fuel and air to your ship. It’s not much but it’ll be enough to get us clear of the cloud.’
Wynn laughed with relief. ‘You’re the best thing that’s happened all day.’
‘It’s been a very bad day then,’ Derward quipped.
The ship began to hum as the fuel transfer took place.
Derward checked the readings, satisfied. ‘There. You have it all now, but we should conserve the air. I didn’t have a huge supply, and there’s three of us in here now.’
Bara nodded in agreement. ‘Let’s go to the bridge. We’ll seal off the rest of the ship.’
Derward smiled, then turned to Wynn. ‘And it’s good to see you still in one piece. I overheard your barter with Draig. Held your own quite well.’
‘He tried to kill us!’ Wynn scoffed.
‘And he failed.’ Derward reminded him.
‘Thanks to you. If you hadn’t put your ship in the way of that missile . . . well, I’m very glad you did, Derward.’
‘I’m sorry about the Leughadair, I know what she meant to you,’ Bara said quietly.
Derward dismissed her remark with a wave of his hand. ‘A ship’s a ship. It’s what’s inside that matters.’
‘Don’t let Lex hear you say that. He’s likely to throw you off.’
‘Noted,’ Derward chuckled. ‘I’ll be discreet.’
They climbed the last flight of stairs towards the bridge when the deck shifted under them. The hull vibrated as power throbbed through the ship.
‘What’s happening?’ Wynn asked, struggling to keep himself upright.
‘We’re moving!’ Bara exclaimed, already pulling herself up towards the bridge hatch. She pressed the door control, but nothing happened. She tried again, frustrated, then activated her wrist communicator. ‘Lex, what’s happening?’
The ship did not respond.
‘Lex? Why are we moving?’
Wynn nudged past her and tried the door for himself. When it didn’t budge he peered into the thin window recessed in the door to see into the bridge. The space was dark, just the pale light of the console to see by, but he could make out a figure moving on the bridge. He squinted, uncertain of what he had seen, but as he checked again he was sure there was someone sat in Bara’s seat.
No, not someone. It was a machine. A bot with a pair of blue glowing eyes.
RHAPSODY
Gofal turned to look at the sliver of window in the bridge hatch and saw the face of his prey staring back at him. He took a moment to study him, to try to understand the emotions he saw there. The man was shocked, that was obvious, but there were other feelings there as well, ones that were harder to quantify. Was one of them recognition? Gofal wondered. Did he look back at him and remember their life before the demise of the Obsidian? No, probably not, Gofal concluded. The conditioning on his memories was substantial, and the chances of him remembering something was slim. This last thought filled Gofal with a sense of loss that he couldn’t quite comprehend.
He turned back to the console and the view. This ship had enough power to get them to their destination now, thanks to the arrival of the lifeboat. A fortuitous turn of events, one that had taken him by surprise, but he had been quick to take advantage of.
The ship’s on-board intelligence had proven difficult to circumvent, but now that Gofal had full control it was a simple task to keep the Lexica personality suppressed. He was in command now.
Gofal checked his course, making sure his corrections did not rouse the attention of the retreating arkship, then he rested in the chair, his work complete, for now.
On the other side of the door the three people were getting agitated. They had made several brute-force attempts to override the door software, and one actual brute-force attempt to prize the door open. All had failed, but he was concerned for their own safety. He had not come all this way to see his prey delivered in a less-than satisfactory condition.
Perhaps some music might help?
He rifled through his archive and found something he particularly liked, a piece of music from long before the Fracture. He had always found it calming, and he was sure they would too. Gofal tapped into the ship-wide com system and fed the music through it.
ARRIVAL
‘How did it get on board?’ Wynn said, catching his breath. The door wouldn’t move, no matter how hard he tried.
‘I’m more concerned about where it’s taking us,’ Derward replied, wringing his hands together.
‘Sol! If it’s harmed Lex I’ll rip it apart,’ Bara muttered from the open panel.
‘It’s just a ship, Bara,’ Derward replied.
She twisted round to glare at him. ‘He’s not just a ship!’
Derward retreated from her, his hands held up defensively.
Bara gave in, kicking the console cover. ‘We can’t just wait here till it takes us wherever it’s planning on taking us! We have to do something.’
‘I’m open to suggestions,’ Derward replied.
Bara pressed her head to the window, staring at the intruder. ‘When I get in there I’m gonna unscrew your head and fill it full of waste oil, do you hear me?’
She hammered on the door, appeasing her frustration.
‘We’re wasting air,’ Derward noted. ‘We should stay calm.’
Arkship Obsidian (The Arkship Saga Book 1) Page 15