by Philip Hamm
“The Aykhal has gone,” said Bysen.
Everyone was silent.
Then Kruvak said, “Narikin, are you sure you saw one of the phantom ships?”
“I’m positive,” he replied.
“The Balun is signalling us,” said Nokodo. “Her captain is demanding we surrender and answer for our crimes.”
“Tell the Balun it wasn’t us,” said Kruvak.
There was another pause while Nokodo relayed the message and then said, “They’re repeating their demand; their captain says you’re a liar and a pirate...”
“Where’s the Balun now?”
“She’s ahead of us,” said Bysen. “I’m picking up three signals in Berith’s Bore.”
“Waiting for the Aykhal to flush us out,” said Jamadar.
“What heading...?”
Bysen told him. “Two minutes to contact, Captain.”
“Shall we stay among the asteroids or confront them?” said Durgah.
“They’ll come after us if we stay and then they’ll become targets for the phantoms.”
“We could surrender,” Jamadar suggested. “When they examine the evidence, they’ll see it wasn’t us...”
“And while we’re negotiating the terms, what will the phantom ships be doing?”
The Kyzyl Kum left the asteroid field and returned to the relative peace of the clearway. The glow of the Aykhal was gone and Narikin wondered if the phantom was following to make sure the war they wanted would continue.
“One minute to contact, Captain.”
Narikin spun his chair around and looked towards where the Taira ships were waiting. He could see three points in the distance as the light of Larret’s star reflected off their hulls. Then they were firing; plasma bolts crossed the gap between them, grazing their Exarch field and making it glow.
“I think negotiations are over,” said Jamadar. “Shall we fight?”
“Querl; shorten the field and takes us through the middle. Open fire, all batteries...”
The clash was over in seconds. Every turret discharged blindly, the Kyzyl Kum passed through the Taira warships and out the other side. Mines fell away behind them and ignited almost immediately. Their Exarch field warped and glowed but remained coherent enough for them to steer and circle for another attack. This was why people feared the ranger ships, Narikin thought, as he held on and prayed it would be over soon. This was why they feared Kruvak.
The captain barked orders and the crew responded, firing missiles and torpedoes at the Taira with such ferocity they barely had time to react. A few stray shells hit their field harmlessly and then the light-frigates scattered.
The Balun, crippled from the impact of the mines, spun in a circle as Kruvak ordered them to come around for a third time. They were moving slowly enough for Narikin to see the Taira frigate through his binoculars. If he had wanted to, his cousin could have blown her to pieces.
“Nokodo,” said Kruvak. “Tell the Balun to stand down. We have no interest in her destruction.”
They had to wait several moments for a reply.
“The light-frigates are maintaining their distance,” said Bysen.
“Keep watching them in case they change their mind.”
“The Balun is standing down,” Nokodo announced. “Her captain says he’s prepared to surrender.”
“Tell them to go to the Aykhal and look at the evidence. Tell them we didn’t fire first and we didn’t destroy their ship.”
“They won’t believe us,” said Jamadar. “They’ll say our mines caused the nuclear missiles to detonate.”
“Probably, but we have to try.”
“The Balun has agreed,” said Nokodo.
“The escorts are returning to Larret,” said Bysen.
“Tell them to stay close to the Balun – repeat our warning about the phantom ships.”
“And if the phantom ships decide to attack them too...?”
“I think the damage is done, don’t you? Why would they stay and risk discovery? As long as the Taira believe we attacked them, their mission is complete. And even if the captain of the Balun has his doubts, without seeing the phantoms for himself, he has no proof.”
“With the other frigates and the Balun to help us, we could have hunted them down,” said Jamadar.
“In an ideal universe,” said Kruvak. “If our leaders were not so busy trying to put their clan first, we might have been able to.” He sighed and said, “Querl, take us back to Sarillon. Nothing had been achieved today.”
Half an hour later, the Kyzyl Kum slipped through the last clouds of debris that marked the entrance to Berith’s Bore and left the Taira mandate behind. The Meros stretched out before them, empty and featureless until it reached the solar spheres of Sarillon in the south and Udo further north. Beyond them, the lines of stars stretched in gentle curves.
Bysen continued to report no change on the radar or Exarch screens. Nokodo heard nothing but static on the radio. The captain picked up the telephone and told the crew to stand-down.
Across the ship, the bulkhead doors were opened up. Fresher air from the storage tanks in the nacelles was released and the intake fans were turned on to circulate it around the ship. Jamadar opened the door at the back of the bridge and Bysen opened the door at the bottom of the stairs into the deck below. There was an audible sigh of relief as the cooler air began to flow through the room.
Narikin, his hair itchy under the helmet, pulled it and headphones off and dropped them into his lap. He rubbed his eyes. He could feel sweat dripping down his sternum and gathering under his armpits.
He began to realise his body was on the verge of collapse. His neck and back ached. The adrenalin of the pursuit had faded away and the horror of seeing another ship die was all that remained.
He eased forward, reaching for the step beneath the foot-rest. He managed to get his heel on but his knee refused to co-operate and he dangled precariously, one hand still clutching the rail and the other trying to hold onto the armrest. His free leg waved about trying to decide whether to attempt the next step or push him back into the seat. Then he felt a strong hand grab his foot and place it on the step, another caught hold of his arm and pulled him forward. Before he could fall on his face, Jamadar was holding him under the armpits and lowering him to the floor.
“Go and get some rest,” said the War Master, waiting patiently until Narikin could stand on his own. “You have done your duty for today.”
Narikin looked around the bridge. Everyone looked exhausted but Bysen, holding his head in his hands for losing the phantom ships at the crucial moment, was almost suicidal. “If I had seen it sooner...”
“It was not your fault,” Durgah was telling him. “It was never their intention to enter Larret’s solar sphere but we were not to know that.”
Kruvak stood up and stretched his back, “Durgah is right; I should have anticipated their move. They knew we were aware of their presence and were using that knowledge against us. Unfortunately, Jamadar was right; we were being herded and I should have ordered us into an attack far sooner. The blame is mine, Bysen.”
The radar operator gave a nod and then his expression changed as he caught sight of his radar screen, “Captain...”
Narikin could see it too: eight bright dots appeared with every sweep of the arm. He felt his heart fall. He doubted if he would be able to get back in his chair let alone fight another battle. Looking around the bridge, he could see the others were thinking the same. Kruvak climbed onto the higher platform and stared at the screen for a moment. Then he asked quietly, “What state are we in?”
“Munitions are low,” said Jamadar. “Most of our mines are gone, the turrets are empty and we have very few missiles left; not good enough for a fight, Captain.”
Kruvak nodded, “Okay - Querl, prepare to take us back into the asteroid field. We’ll detonate our nuclear missiles and try and blind them while we get away...”
“Captain,” said Nokodo, looking up from his radio. �
�It’s the Khorasan and the Karasor fleet from Kaishaku; Daimyō Titer would like to know if we require assistance.”
Narikin’s heart fell for a second time as he heard the name of his half-brother. Perhaps it would be better to fight another battle after all, he thought; at least a quick death would be better than having to listen to Titer belittling him again.
20 – Khorasan
Before they left for the Khorasan, Kruvak met Narikin in the wardroom alone. “I have a confession,” he began.
Narikin looked at his cousin and knew what he was going to say. “My father told you he wanted to replace me with Titer, didn’t he?”
“Not exactly but I’ve always known it was the reason he agreed to let you come here. He asked me what I thought of him, kept bringing up your half-brother’s finer qualities, and that’s when I began to suspect.”
“How did you reply?”
“I asked about you instead. You’re the heir, not Titer.”
“And what did my father say?”
“He said you were a fool and your life would probably end in an unhappy accident one day.”
“Were you meant to provide this ‘accident’?”
“I thought so but then Subarsi said in his letter that your father had ended your training early so you could be put on the Kyzyl Mazhalyk. You told us there were troops on board and I wonder if your father had an assassin placed among them. Your death on his ship would have forced the captain to resign and another problem would have been solved. But, as far as Uigur was concerned, you had been sent to spy on him. He already had plans to cross the Meros and start a war and he didn’t want you to find out. By a strange piece of luck, locking you in your cabin kept you safe from any potential harm. However, he needed to get rid of you quickly and that’s why he told us to come and fetch you as soon the Kyzyl Mazhalyk entered the Third Sphere.”
“So, Uigur wasn’t trying to punish me after all?”
“He may even have suspected your life was in danger and that’s why you only saw his personal steward and the guard.”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
“I needed you to trust me, Narikin, for your sake if not for mine. What would you have been thinking when we went to Tenrec or when I sent you to the Kyzyl Mazhalyk if I’d told you what your father had said. I wanted you to be yourself and show me what you were capable of. If you’d thought, even for a moment, I had any intention of obeying your father’s will, you would never have left your cabin.”
“I did think you were trying to poison me with that pie...”
Kruvak smiled, “So, you forgive me then?”
Narikin nodded, “It would have been difficult to trust you if I’d known. But did you tell Jamadar and the others about my father wanting me dead?”
“Because Subarsi was involved, I discussed it with his brother but nobody else. Jamadar shared my opinion that we should give you a chance. He thinks even less of Titer than I do but would have accepted your father’s decision if you had been as weak as he said you were. Fortunately, in our estimation, you’re proved him wrong.”
“I have tried my best.”
“And you’ve succeeded, cousin. Even Durgah, who was unhappy about you being here, has changed his mind.”
“But what about the tantō-blade? My father didn’t give it to me so I could wield its authority, did he?”
“He presented it to you in front of the other rangers on the Kyzylagash so they would know he had faith in you. It was his way of absolving himself of any blame if you died on the way to meet us.”
“I should have thrown it away. I knew I was just carrying it to Titer so he could use it...”
“It still carries weight, cousin. Why don’t you try using it instead?”
“Against Titer...?”
“I’m going to give you two choices: you can stay here on the Kyzyl Kum where you’ll be safe or come with us to the Khorasan. But if you choose the latter, you have to be the heir to the Shōgun’s throne. You have to be Prince Narikin Karasor and everything that implies.”
The cruiser Khorasan was the biggest fighting ship in the Pentī navy. She was four times longer than the Kyzyl Kum, four times wider and packed with more weapons, soldiers and crew than any other vessel in the fleet except the vastly impractical Kyzylagash. She was so large she could afford to have a great hall in the centre, complete with ornate pillars, paper screens and a throne on a low stage.
Dressed in a formal silk robe that he’d borrowed from his cousin, and accompanied by him and Jamadar, Narikin entered the hall at one end and faced his half-brother on the throne at the other. A chair had been placed for him in the middle of the room. On either side, the eight captains of the Karasor fleet from Kaishaku sat waiting. He knew them all by sight from the feasts in the palace on Kimidori, where they had received an award from his father or at the celebration for victory at the Battle of Variola. But none of them had seen his face before.
“Prince Kruvak, War Master Jamadar, Narikin – welcome to the Khorasan,” said Titer. “Take a seat and have some tea.”
Narikin glanced at the chair and ignored the invitation.
Remember who you are, Kruvak had told him.
Titer was dressed in loose robes. He was lounging rather than sitting, holding a bowl of tea in one hand while the other held the sword of his authority as daimyō of Kaishaku. He had always been handsome and well-proportioned but he’d never mastered his supercilious sneer - everything was a joke to him, including his half-brother.
The captains looked less comfortable. They sat in two rows on either side of the hall with their guards against the walls behind them. Their eyes went from the governor to the visitors. Narikin could see them wondering who he was.
“Sit down,” Titer repeated.
“I can’t,” said Narikin. “You’re in my chair.” He stared at his brother and the captains looked at each other.
Titer laughed, “I think you’re mistaken, Narikin. I am Daimyō of Kaishaku; this is my fleet.”
“Has our father made you his heir? You do not out-rank me, Titer. You have no authority above mine.”
The captains whispered to each other and one of them said to him, “You are Prince Narikin...?”
“He’s nobody,” said Titer. “My half-wit brother, that’s all.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Narikin saw Kruvak’s hand reach for the hilt of his sword and on his right, Jamadar’s back seemed to stiffen. As much as he would have liked to see his friends chop his half-brother into pieces, he had to be patient.
“Admiral Yassa, my half-brother has admitted who I am. Am I wrong in thinking he has no authority over me?”
The admiral was surprised to be addressed by somebody he was unaware of ever meeting. “How do you know me? I don’t recognise you...?”
“You attended a feast at the palace last summer, Admiral. I was on the high table.”
The admiral looked confused and couldn’t remember.
Titer sighed impatiently, “It doesn’t matter who you are on Kimidori, Narikin. Our father made me daimyō and I have authority here.”
“War Master,” said Narikin, reaching into his sleeve for the tantō-blade. “Would you be so good as to show this to the captains.”
Jamadar knelt down in front of his prince and received it with both hands.
“What’s that?” said Titer. “A new box for your paint brushes...?”
Jamadar went along the line on the left, showing the Shōgun’s seal to the captains. Then he crossed the room, ignoring Titer, and showed it to the captains on the right. He came back to Narikin, knelt down and held up the tantō-blade for him to take. Narikin put it away in his sleeve and said, “Do you recognise the authority of my father’s seal?”
The captains admitted they did.
“It means nothing without a warrior to hold it,” Titer sneered. “Who are you to come here and presume to take command? My captains do not know you, Narikin.”
“But I know them,”
said Narikin.
He turned to the captain of the Gora Polkon, “I was there when you were awarded your command, three years ago, Captain Gurav; you came with your wife and three boys.” He turned to the next one, “Captain Naim, you were a gunner but you have risen to the command of the light-frigate Suber – a worthy achievement. Captain Dal, you were on the Batama at the Battle of Variola and still serve her – I remember your stories very well.”
“Enough,” said Titer.
Captain Dal frowned, “But he carries the authority of the tantō-blade of the Shōgun, Governor...”
“He is nothing, Captain – my father’s weakling first son whom he wishes had never been born. I don’t know how he managed to escape Kimidori but the sooner we send him back to the safety of its walls, the sooner we can carry on with our proper business.”
Kruvak stepped forward, “I should cut you in half,” he said, calmly but with enough venom to make the governor flinch. “I was right not to let you serve on the Kyzyl Kum; your arrogance is beyond belief. Prince Narikin is the heir, not you.”
“Come now, captain,” said Titer. “You can’t tell me he’s been an asset on your ship...”
Kruvak burst out laughing. He laughed so long and loudly the other captains began to smile and wonder if he’d lost his mind.
When he stopped, he looked at them and said, “We’ve all had new recruits we were unsure about – I had my doubts about our prince too. He is not the most robust of individuals.” The captains smiled but didn’t look at Narikin. “And yet, he was prepared to face the horrors of what we found on Tenrec with nothing but a camera to protect him. And when the deck collapsed under him on the wreck of the Kyzyl Mazhalyk, he didn’t whine or cry like a child but waited patiently to be rescued.” He looked at the captain of the Mozdok. “Quassin says he showed as much bravery as any of his warriors.”
The captain looked surprised, “My brother said that?”
“And more besides; without Prince Narikin we would never have been able to identify the real enemy, collect the evidence or have the proof to show you. His technical ability with the Clun technology he brought to us has been invaluable. But more than that, every member of my crew respects him. He has met and helped all of them, including officers with far more experience than he has. He has endured more discomfort and worked harder than I ever expected he would be able to. He has served the Kyzyl Kum with distinction and I am proud to have him on board.”