Starlight Cavalry (Sentinels Saga Book 4)

by Linn Schwab

  She held up an archive interface with the image of a Sentinel space station on its screen.

  “Solaris. Positioned exactly opposite to us. Same design as Volaris. Both were built during the same year. It matches up too perfectly to be mere coincidence.”

  Commander Eldridge leaned back in her chair and said, “So finally the pieces are falling into place.”

  “Have you ever been to Solaris?” Janine asked her.

  “No. But you and I will be flying there as soon as this fog allows for it.”

  Janine reached for Chelsea’s interface and looked at the image of Solaris more closely. “This may explain why Commander Stinson’s requests to reposition Volaris were ignored. Moving the station might have compromised the field’s integrity.”

  Major Richards shook her head and said, “I don’t understand. What’s so important about this hypothetical field we’re discussing?”

  “It’s the answer to your question,” Commander Eldridge explained. “The one you asked when you summoned me here a few days ago, along with Captains Starling and McNeil. This field is clearly somehow important to the virus, as evidenced by its strong attraction to the lens. And that feeling of dread we experience when we venture too far away from Valhalla is the virus informing us we’ve strayed beyond the field.”

  “But that would suggest the virus possesses intelligence, and I assure you that is just not possible, Commander. While it is far more complex than any other known virus, it does not possess the necessary anatomy to think.”

  “Perhaps not. But it does appear to respond to the signal, and it would also seem to have some sort of influence over us. My understanding is that plants are devoid of intelligence, and yet they somehow find a way to grow toward sunlight. If, as you suggested earlier, we’ve developed a symbiotic relationship, could the virus not be compelling us to stay close to the signal? Like a plant finds a way to turn toward the sun?”

  The major stared at her in silence for a moment, then gradually appeared to accept what she was saying. “It’s possible,” she said. “And I suppose it’s also possible that this signal is entirely natural in origin. But that doesn’t explain the existence of that lens, or as Chelsea pointed out, the peculiar alignment of Volaris and Solaris.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” the commander agreed. “If Chelsea’s right, and we find out there’s a similar lens on Solaris, it would seem to suggest a degree of intent on the part of whomever commissioned these two stations. So whether this signal is natural or not, that would mean that someone must have been aware of its existence.”

  Suzanne closed her eyes and rubbed her eyelids. The viewscreen’s glow remained etched on her retinas. Though the cloud of fog was a constant worry for her, it absolved her of the need to make pressing decisions, and freed her to focus on reading for a while. One by one, she was working her way through the systems destroyer crews were required to become familiar with. But in addition to all the knowledge the trainees had to learn, there were additional systems only a commander could access. Systems she’d never been aware of until now, operating in the background, unheard and unseen. That slowed the learning process down considerably as she struggled to commit all their functions to memory.

  After a brief rest, she opened her eyes and looked at the viewscreen with utter disinterest. Another page of instructions awaited her attention. More reading, more thinking, more memorization. In the upper right corner a cursor was blinking, informing her Command–‌net was currently offline. Since the moment she’d first set foot in her office, not once had that cursor stopped blinking at her.

  “What can you tell me, Command–‌net?” she mused. “Any advice for a bleary–‌eyed fledgling Commander?”

  The intercom suddenly beeped at her. “Commander Carillo,” Veronica said, “there’s a ship arriving at spur number one.”

  Finally, a respite from reading, she thought. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Can you tell what ship it is?”

  “It’s the Terrapin, Commander. One of our patrol ships. The captain’s name is Carly Russell.”

  “I’m on my way down to the spur right now.”

  As she headed for the spur she began to realize how much she disliked being addressed as “Commander.” At first it had given her a bit of a thrill, but the title was beginning to wear thin on her already. She longed for the days when people would just call her Suzanne, and she could address them by their first names as well, rather than repeatedly reminding them of their ranks. Perhaps that was why Commander Eldridge insisted on referring to individuals she outranked as “Miss.” As pejorative as it sounded coming from her lips, even that felt slightly less impersonal than “Lieutenant,” or “Major,” or the lowest rank — “Sentinel.”

  Skimming through her memories of Commander Jeffries, she seemed to recall occasional use of first names. Was that a slip on Commander Jeffries’ part? Or was it a calculated facet of her own command style? That raised an intriguing possibility. Perhaps there was room for a slightly more personal approach once an officer had cemented her leadership credentials. Prove myself first. Earn some respect. Then someday I can follow Commander Jeffries’ example.

  Before she knew it, she was standing on the spur, waiting for the Terrapin’s crew to disembark. They came through the airlock single file.

  “Captain Russell?” she said.

  Carly stopped directly in front of her and eyed her dress with apparent surprise. “Weren’t you just a pilot the last time I was here?”

  “Yes,” Suzanne confirmed. “Things have changed since then. I’ve recently been promoted to commander of Volaris.” She’d learned it wasn’t easy to speak like a commander. The position seemed to call for more thoughtful use of language.

  Carly suddenly stood at attention. “Sorry, Commander. I wasn’t informed.”

  “I understand,” Suzanne assured her. “At ease, Captain Russell. I need you to tell me what’s going on out there.”

  “Ever since this cloud overtook us, we’ve just been drifting, trying to conserve our fuel. You can’t see a thing out there, Commander. We were just lucky we somehow drifted toward Volaris. Otherwise, who knows how long we would’ve been stuck out there.”

  “Have you been in contact with any of our forces, Captain? Pilots … other patrol ships … anyone at all?”

  “For a while we were able to stay in touch with the Stingray. But we drifted out of range and lost contact with them.”

  “We have a lot of pilots stationed on the Zephyr, Captain Russell. Did you hear anything at all from them? Either directly, or by way of the Stingray?”

  “No, Commander. No word on their condition. But I saw the Zephyr when she first arrived here. And she already looked severely compromised at the time.”

  “I know,” Suzanne said. “That’s what concerns me. That ship had some major structural damage. Did you notice any impact when this cloud overtook you?”

  “Yes. But it wasn’t terribly harsh. Have you ever gone swimming in the ocean, Commander?”

  “Yes, of course.” One thing she remembered hearing mentioned in the past was that all of the academies were built along coastlines. To her knowledge, no one really understood why. But regardless of the actual reason for this practice, it ensured all Sentinels had two things in common: a fondness for the ocean, and memories of swimming.

  “Well,” Carly said, “this was just like when a wave gently lifts you up, and carries you along with its forward motion. And it sounded like thousands of tiny pebbles were striking the outer hull of our ship. Later on we got bumped by a few larger objects, but not hard enough to cause any serious damage. If that’s all the Zephyr had to endure, I think there’s a good chance she may have survived, and is drifting along out there, just like we were.”

  “Thank you,” Suzanne said. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  “Just that it’s scary as hell out there. You have no indication which direction is which. And it seems like there are rocks everywhere. I really hope this clears u
p soon, Commander. Because if it doesn’t, we could lose a lot of Sentinels.”

  “Fifteen minutes to arrival,” Derrick said. “Looks like the station is still right where we left it.”

  Captain Hoile checked the image on the forward viewscreen. “So, we’re back to paradise already,” he said. “I should probably go below and finally meet Commander Parks, since we’re getting very close to our destination. You suppose Mackenzie has suffered enough abuse yet? Maybe it’s time for me to rescue him from the battleaxe.”

  “That woman must be beyond overbearing,” Derrick said. “We haven’t heard a single peep from him ever since we left Gateway. That right there should be enough to tell you something, Captain. If anyone can weasel his way out of an unpleasant assignment, it’s Mackenzie. She must be keeping him pinned to the deck with her thumb.”

  “Alright,” the captain said. “Mind the bridge while I’m gone. And if I’m not back up here in fifteen minutes, find a reason to page me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As Captain Hoile stepped into the elevator, he began to worry that neglecting to meet with her earlier might have earned him some disfavor in the eyes of the commander. What had seemed like a good idea at the time could very well place him in hot water now. He could only guess at what her reaction might be, and whether she’d berate him for putting her off for so long. But if she wanted to meet with me, she could have come to the bridge, he reasoned. As a commander, it would have been her prerogative to do so. Yet she’d clearly declined to act on that prerogative, so perhaps he wasn’t in quite as much trouble as he feared.

  When the elevator opened he heard the sound of laughter and female voices emanating from the messdeck. A good sign, he decided. If levity isn’t suppressed by her presence, that suggests she isn’t a stringent disciplinarian.

  Feeling somewhat reassured now, he walked toward the laughter, curious to find out what could be so humorous. When he arrived at the doorway, he came to a dead halt. The shock of what he saw stopped him right in his tracks. There were children running around freely in his messdeck, the oldest of which appeared to be J Mac himself, who seemed to be engaging in some sort of game with the others. The benches were full of sightly young women laughing hysterically at his antics.

  No wonder we haven’t heard a peep out of him. He’s having the time of his life down here.

  Clearing his throat, he entered the messdeck and directed a stone–‌faced glare at his lieutenant.

  “Uh, Captain Hoile,” J Mac stammered as he came to a halt and tried his best to stand upright. He gestured toward a woman at one of the tables and said, “This is Commander Parks, Captain. Commander Parks, Captain Hoile.”

  The captain stepped closer to Commander Parks.

  “Ahh, Captain Hoile,” she said with a pleasant smile, “I’d like to thank you for making Lieutenant Mackenzie available to us. His attentiveness has been much appreciated.”

  He got the sense she could tell he was displeased with J Mac, and was stepping in preemptively to defend him.

  “Yes … well … I was just checking to see if he’s worn out his welcome yet.”

  “Not at all,” she said. “He’s been quite effective at keeping the children entertained.”

  Several of the children encircled J Mac’s legs and urged him to continue playing with them.

  “I’m sure that comes easy for him,” the captain said, “since he seems to have so much in common with them.”

  Commander Parks chuckled and got to her feet. “Are we getting close to Paradise One yet, Captain?”

  “We’re on approach now and should be docking with the station in just a few minutes.”

  “Good. I trust it’s still in working order?”

  “It was when we left it.” He glanced down at the children as they danced around J Mac, and released him to continue playing with them. “If you don’t mind my asking, Commander, what are these children doing anywhere near all this chaos?”

  “It’s not by design, I assure you,” she said. “But we try to do the best for them that we can.”

  He could see she wasn’t going to say any more on the subject, so decided it was best to pursue another topic. “Can you tell me anything about that cloud, Commander? Have you heard anything at all about what’s going on? The status of our forces? Who’s currently in command?”

  “I did hear a few things when we were dropped off at Gateway. They’ve been trying to gather as much information as they can. The cloud itself is what’s left of a comet which was subjected to a variety of external forces. Some of its mass bypassed the enemy homeworld and continued flying closer in toward the sun. But some of what was left got caught in the planet’s gravitational field. No estimates yet on how long it might persist. Looks like it may be collapsing toward the planet.

  “The majority of our fleet was affected in one way or another. Many of our ships are still unaccounted for. As for who’s in command, I’m not sure that’s been resolved yet. But I do know Admiral Sands is still missing.”

  The Mona Lisa gradually began to decelerate.

  “Captain to the bridge,” Derrick announced over the intercom.

  “Looks like we’ve arrived,” the captain said. “Is there anything more I can do for you, Commander?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is,” she replied. “Since our forces are currently in a state of disarray, I’m concerned that our position may be left unprotected. And as I’m sure you’ve probably figured out by now, this station is of critical importance to the fleet. So unless and until you receive further orders, I want you to patrol the area between us and enemy space — just in case something sneaks out of that cloud and manages to find its way in our direction.”

  For an instant he was poised to object to her instructions, and argue that his ship was still in need of repairs. It should therefore return straight to the shipyard, he reasoned. But before he could speak up, the sound of laughing children pushed aside any thoughts he might have had in that regard.

  “We’ll do our best, Commander Parks,” he assured her.

  She gave him a smug grin and said, “Thank you, Captain Hoile.”

  EXPEDITION 109

  Though Karl had assumed they might sleep indoors, JoEllen wanted nothing to do with the idea. The sky was her ceiling, the ground her bed, and open vistas were the only walls she required. She was far more at home in the wilderness now than she was inside any manmade structure. And the buildings of Base Camp Two contained memories of people she had trouble identifying with.

  A terraced planter overrun by grasses served as their resting place for the night. Overhead, a fabric canopy flapped in the breeze — one of the few remaining examples in the marketplace that hadn’t been reduced to tatters over the years. Karl decided it would keep them dry if it rained, before laughing at himself for even thinking such a thing. “It won’t rain where we are,” he could hear JoEllen saying. And he no longer had any reason to doubt she was right.

  As he sat next to her, watching the sunset in the distance, he couldn’t stop wondering where all the people had gone, and why it seemed that they’d simply left everything behind. The building behind him was much like the others, with glass entry doors just begging to be opened, and immaculate furnishings ripe for the taking.

  “I just realized something,” he said to JoEllen. “There are no locks on any of these buildings.”

  “What?” she said.

  “Door locks, you know? To keep people out, or prevent them from taking things when no one else is around to stop them. Every building we’ve been in was just left wide open. Even that house we were in earlier. I just assumed it was because people left in a panic, and didn’t have time to lock things up, much less worry about grabbing their belongings. But now I’m beginning to see a different picture. They must not have felt locks were necessary. Perhaps crime just wasn’t a concern for them. So it could be that they were planning on coming back here someday, and that’s why they left everything as it was. What do you thi
nk? Does that make sense to you?”

  “They left because of the war,” she said.

  “Yes, I was thinking that must be the case. Presumably at some point they all moved to these academies you were telling me about. But that still doesn’t explain why they just abandoned everything.”

  “I think they lived in tents while they were building the academies. I remember seeing pictures of that.”

  “Oh. I guess that might explain it. They probably only took what they absolutely needed. It’s a shame they never got to come home, though. It must have been hard for them to give all this up.”

  JoEllen glanced around at the nearby buildings as if trying to understand his interest in them. “Why do you care about this?” she asked.

  “Ohh, I don’t know. I guess I just find it fascinating. On Earth we had people called archaeologists who studied abandoned ruins for clues about lost civilizations. They sometimes had to dig entire cities out of the ground. But this one is just sitting here, right out in the open. Archaeologists back on Earth never had it so easy.

  “I used to dream of joining an expedition,” he said. “Sifting through layers of sand and dirt, and uncovering some lost bit of ancient knowledge. A scroll, or a stone tablet, or a hidden alcove, with copies of everything that was lost at Alexandria when one of the world’s greatest libraries burned. I wonder if there’s a library here somewhere.”

  “There are archives at all of the academies,” JoEllen told him.

  “Really? I don’t suppose you could sneak me inside one for a while.”

  “No,” she said. “Someone would see you. But I could bring you a portable archive interface.”

  He smiled at her and said, “Now you know I can’t resist an offer like that. How far is the nearest academy from here?”

  “If we leave in the morning we can be there tomorrow. It’s that way,” she said, pointing back toward the north.