She was especially averse to asking her subjects to bleed and die for the Rotham, who, she had known from the beginning, since even before the treachery they had revealed during the Great War, that, aside from the pure embodiment of evil that was the Dread Fleet, it was actually the Rotham who were the real threat. The Polarians, for the most part, kept to themselves, honored their bargains and treaties with a kind of religious reverence, and most were simple enough creatures; they did not have it within their DNA to be cunning, under-handed, and double-dealing. The Rotham, however, were the exact opposite in that respect. And Kalila sometimes wondered if the Rotham had it within their DNA to be single-dealing, over-handed, and sincere. In her experience, the answer was no.
And, she had no doubt, the strange arrival of the Rotham fleet here in Capital System, coupled with the even stranger choice by the Rotham to help defend the system against the Dread Fleet, whatever had governed that decision, she was certain that it was part of some kind of design. No doubt the Rotham intended to gain something for it and, for all she knew, perhaps, some way, somehow, they already had. So if the answer came back that the Dread Fleet was headed into Rotham space, although it would seem to be an uncaring and unfair thing, Kalila had made up her mind she would refuse to send her forces to assist them.
Fortunately, the answer that came through over the War Rooms speakers was the best one she could possibly have hoped for.
“They appear to have set course for deep inside Polarian space,” said Fleet Admiral Zeller. Only then did Kalila allow herself to take a deep breath and feel a measure of relief.
They are going. They are really and truly going, she thought. Hopefully, their departure was for good, and they would never be seen nor heard from again. Or, if they were, that it would not be for decades or centuries to come. We live, she thought, taking another deep breath and feeling some soreness in her back where she’d unknowingly clenched her muscles too tightly. But even with the back pain, she felt like a sailing ship, and nothing could take the wind from her sails, not now. Not in this glorious moment. We live, she repeated in her mind, relishing each word. We live to see another day.
Fleet Admiral Zeller’s voice came over the War Room speakers again. Kalila had almost forgotten that their conversation had never technically ended, because she had not dismissed him. “Whatever they came here to do…I guess they’ve done it. Or else they’ve changed their mind about wanting to slaughter us, for the time being at least.”
Kalila pursed her lips as she considered that. It didn’t make sense. Why send the Dread Fleet all this way, utterly devastating system after system as it went, until finally arriving here, at Capital System, where they engaged a large defensive fleet—albeit comparatively small by their standards—proceed to defeat and destroy the majority of the defense fleet, and then, after achieving a total victory and deploying devastators with a clear path toward the planet, and practically nothing left to stop them, suddenly recall their ships, about face, and flee the system. All in such a seeming hurry to boot. It made no sense to Kalila, and again the whole thing felt too good to be true.
Unless, she thought, perhaps they didn’t have a change of mind so much as a change of orders, perhaps even a change of command…
She knew that Calvin and his comrades, whom she’d assumed long dead by now, had chosen to venture into Polarian Forbidden Space, and she also knew that it was from there, or else the nether regions of unexplored space beyond there, that the Dread Fleet was rumored to have originated, and therefore, it seemed logical to conclude, was also likely controlled from. Whether the controlling agent was the High Prelain, the Council of Prelains, or some other as yet unidentified party, that person, or persons, or strange and inexplicable space being, might have been persuaded to recall the Dread Fleet, ordering it to abandon its attack immediately. Perhaps this persuasion had been done by force, though that seemed unlikely, unless the Polarians themselves had done it. Which would make sense, considering the Dread Fleet had scourged some Polarian worlds on its way into human space; such actions were bound to make enemies…or perhaps this change of mind had been brought about by diplomacy, though that seemed even less likely. Whatever the case, and however it had happened, although it seemed to defy every probability, Kalila could not shake her hunch that somehow Calvin and his allies, the bold souls of the Nighthawk, had had something to do with it. She hoped that was true. She hoped that Calvin and his companions would swiftly return and regale her with the story of how they had, single-handedly, managed to arrange for the complete withdrawal of the Dread Fleet.
Naturally, that hope was predicated upon many unlikely assumptions, including that Calvin and his companions remained alive, that some action they had done had in fact contributed to the Dread Fleet’s withdrawal, and finally that Calvin and his companions, after somehow achieving such an objective, would manage to survive the return trip back to the Empire. None of these were foregone conclusions. In fact, each and every one of them, on its face, seemed like total lunacy. And yet, Kalila halfway suspected that that was exactly what had happened. If so, Calvin, she thought, Bravo. You are not the mere chess piece I had believed you to be. You are a player of the game, not another’s pawn. Not even my own.
Of course, if all of that were true, that meant she would need to keep a shrewd eye on Calvin, and take nothing for granted. Another player, unlike a mere chess piece, as she’d formerly believed him to be, also brought with him the possibility that one day, should the circumstances prove just right, he could become a credible threat. Should they ever have to match wits and take opposing sides, player against player, it was always true that one player must prevail over the other. That was where true life diverged from chess.
In chess, there always existed the possibility of a draw, or a careless stalemate; but in reality, there could only be one winner when two players engage each other. She did not foresee any future date when that might occur, that Calvin would be a direct challenge to her, but, should her assumptions about his actions in Polarian Forbidden Space prove true, and should he manage to return to the Empire intact, then she would have to keep a very close eye on him. At this point, he probably did not know he was a player, not any more than he had understood that he was a piece, when she had used him, but things change. Kalila knew that better than anyone. And so she would be cautious, yet interested, to see whether Calvin developed into a dangerous adversary or a powerful ally.
I hope you survived, she thought, and I hope that was in fact your work that did all of this. If only to have my curiosity sated and that question answered. Friend or foe, Calvin Cross? Loyal subject to Queen and Crown, or dangerous malcontent?
CHAPTER 21
The Hunter ship managed to leave the Forbidden System without Custos taking any interest in it whatsoever. By the time they were in alteredspace, Calvin’s uneasiness had begun to fade. Finally, we’re heading the right direction, he thought. Just one quick stop at Aleator and then it’s back home. Assuming the Dread Fleet hasn’t destroyed it…The ship had also proven intuitive to fly, despite all the text being Rotham.
“It’s time,” said Rafael, nodding toward the cockpit’s door.
“You’re right,” said Calvin. “But I think I should handle this alone. You stay here.”
“If you think that is best,” said Rafael. “But, tell me, why?”
“I’m trying to build a rapport with Ozumire, I don’t want to get information from him through intimidation; I want him to feel like he can trust me. Like I’m his only friend in this situation. Or, if that fails, that we can make some kind of quid-pro-quo arrangement.”
“You mean, like, his freedom for his information?” asked Rafael.
“Perhaps,” said Calvin, wondering if he was willing to be so deceitful. He had tried a similar tactic on Tristan when they’d first met, and it had not worked out well. “I haven’t decided exactly what I will do or say,” Calvin continued, “But Ozumire and I did begin a dialogue before coming aboard this ship. I
think he is more likely to continue that dialogue with as few people around as possible.”
“In that case,” said Rafael, “I know the perfect spot. Back out through the converted cargo bay, there is a tiny nook with a hatch. Through that hatch is a very small engine room, I think that is the where you will get the most privacy.”
“Thanks for the tip,” said Calvin, thinking that sounded perfect. Just as he was turning to leave, Rafael caught him on the shoulder.
“One last question,” he said.
“Go ahead,” replied Calvin.
“Are you sure you’ll be safe, just the two of you?”
“I can handle myself,” said Calvin, “Besides, I’ve got my sidearm.” He patted his holster, “And Ozumire is bound behind his back. What could go wrong?”
Rafael seemed to accept this begrudgingly. “If you say so, sir.”
“In the meantime, you stay here and man the controls,” said Calvin.
“There’s not much manning required on a direct course through alteredspace,” said Rafael, “But I take your meaning.”
“Thanks,” said Calvin. “And, after I get what I can out of him, I promise to share the intelligence with you. All of it.”
This seemed to make Rafael happier.
Calvin exited the cockpit and, to his surprise, found himself face to face with Nikolai, who was so broad and the corridor so narrow, Nikolai completely impeded Calvin’s path, whether by accident or on purpose.
Nikolai gave him a knowing look, as if he had figured something out. “You go to ask questions now, yes?”
How’d he know that? Calvin wondered. Did he overhear us through the cockpit’s hatch? Unlikely. The thing was almost assuredly soundproof.
“Yes,” admitted Calvin. “So, if you’ll kindly stand aside and let me through…”
“Of course,” said Nikolai, not moving. “We go ask questions together now, yes?”
“No,” said Calvin. “I think it would be better if it was just me.”
“You talk of craziness. Would not be safe you and him. Alone.”
“I’ll be plenty safe,” said Calvin, “I promise.”
“No, I must come too,” insisted Nikolai.
“But I don’t want you to come,” said Calvin. “I don’t want Ozumire to feel intimidated.”
“Do not worry; I ask him no questions.”
“That’s not the point,” said Calvin. “If it’s just me, the conversation will be private. If you’re there too, he might be less likely to share what he knows—about anything, for that matter. Now please, stand aside.”
“I stand aside,” said Nikolai, and he did. But, as Calvin progressed forward, Nikolai followed him. “But,” the bald soldier continued. “I still go with you.”
Calvin stopped and turned around, annoyed.
“Nikolai, you are not coming with me.”
“I understand,” said Nikolai. “I come too.”
“No!” replied Calvin, wondering where this insistence was coming from.
“Nikolai, you will remain with the passengers on this vessel in the converted cargo hold; that is an order. Is that clear?”
“Clear, yes,” said Nikolai. “Remain? No. I come too.”
At that point, Calvin was unsure what to do. He didn’t want to cause a ruckus by ordering the other soldiers to restrain Nikolai. Nor could Calvin, himself, keep Nikolai from following him. After all, Nikolai was too strong for Calvin to attempt to tie up, and it wasn’t like Calvin was going to shoot him. So, with some reluctance and a great deal of frustration, Calvin relented and accepted the fact that Nikolai would be there also.
“Fine, you may come,” said Calvin. “But you’d better be damned sure you keep that big mouth shut; is that clear?”
“Of course!” said Nikolai.
Calvin returned to the converted cargo hold and approached Ozumire, telling the soldier watching him to, “Stand down.”
“So, the curious one returns,” said Ozumire, quickly adding, “I believe certain promises were made that have not been kept.” He nodded toward the restraints behind him.
“I’ll honor the agreement,” said Calvin, “But first, come with me, please.”
“Where are we going?” asked Ozumire.
“Does not matter,” said Nikolai. “Just come.”
Ozumire examined Nikolai, who was nearly as tall as he was, and stockier.
“Don’t mind him,” said Calvin. “Pretend he isn’t here. Now, this way, please.”
Calvin led the way, followed by Ozumire, who, in turn, was followed by Nikolai. It proved to be a very short distance to the hatch that Rafael had spoken of. Calvin punched the button and the hatch slid open. “After you,” he gestured.
Ozumire entered first, followed by Nikolai, and Calvin entered last, sealing the hatch behind him. At last, some privacy, he thought. Well, other than Nikolai.
It was a rather small space for an engine room—it seemed more like a walk-in closet, except the walls were bulkheads except for one, which appeared to be a bunch of machinery. Calvin recognized none of it.
“Well, here we are,” said Calvin. He remained near the hatch, facing Ozumire. Nikolai stood somewhat between them, but out of their direct line of sight to each other. In his hand was a pistol, he held it at his side. Calvin thought to ask him, do you really need that? But then decided Nikolai would simply say yes and that would be the end of it.
So Calvin decided to proceed, also trying his best to pretend that Nikolai was not there. “When last we spoke,” said Calvin, “You were beginning to teach me about the Truth.”
Ozumire didn’t say anything right away. His face remained as expressionless as ever as he looked from Calvin, to Nikolai, then back to Calvin. “I am unsure this one is worthy to learn of the Truth. Indeed, perhaps, it is better that I not share it at all. You are both drotha, after all.”
Calvin shot Nikolai and extremely angry glare, as if to say, “Take the hint, you are ruining this! Go on, get out of here!”
But, whether obstinate or simply oblivious, Nikolai remained exactly where he stood. Saying nothing.
Calvin spent a few seconds trying to figure out how to get rid of Nikolai, so Ozumire would not rethink his willingness to open up to Calvin—who desperately wanted his information.
Then, before Calvin could think of what to say or do, Ozumire spoke again. “Very well, this one may stay,” he said, much to Calvin’s relief. “Provided that he do what was promised and remove these restraints. They are uncomfortable.”
“You heard him,” said Calvin. “Remove the restraints.”
“Remove restraints?” asked Nikolai, as if he had just heard something so confusing it had been in a foreign language. “But…I said it is unwise.”
“Just remove them,” said Calvin. “As quickly as possible.”
“But…is not safe,” said Nikolai.
“Not safe?” said Calvin. “There’s two of us here and we have guns! There is only one of him and he is unarmed. What is he going to do? Besides, where would he run to even if he did manage to incapacitate both of us?”
“Very well,” said Nikolai. He holstered his pistol just long enough to remove the restraints, then he returned to his position, like a dutiful sentinel, and held the pistol at his side once more.
Ozumire stretched out his arms and moved them about, no doubt feeling a great deal of physical relief. “Yes, this is much more agreeable,” said Ozumire.
“Now,” said Calvin, “About the Truth.”
“As I was saying, I can only agree to give you the smallest taste of it,” said Ozumire. “I cannot promise that you will comprehend it. Your mind is, unfortunately, limited.”
“I would like to try anyway,” said Calvin, still using the friendliest tone he could muster.
“Hmm…” said Ozumire, as if mulling it over. “I suppose you would not be the first drotha to be taken by the One True God and thrust into the Truth; however, like the other, you could never be the same again.”
&
nbsp; “I welcome change,” said Calvin, hoping that was what Ozumire wanted to hear.
“The discovery of the Truth began long ago, in your frame of time it was ancient. Perhaps when your forefathers had first discovered the usefulness of stone. The Progenitors were far more advanced then, even far more advanced than the Polarians and the drotha are now. They so honored the One True God, that they were rewarded with the treasures of knowledge and wisdom beyond your ability to comprehend.”
“Who were the Progenitors?” asked Calvin.
“They were the forefathers of the Polarians and the Skotadi,” said Ozumire. “Eventually, there was a split. With two branches of offspring that differed.”
“A genetic mutation?” suggested Calvin.
Ozumire looked at him with annoyance. “Typical human. Always trying to explain away the miraculous with the mundane. No not a genetic mutation, a divinely-guided separation. Such that the offspring of the Progenitors were born either as Polarians, which you already know much about, or Skotadi, such as I am. Although the Polarians use a foul word by which they call us Qi’laqin…they hate us so, not only did they banish us, and slaughter us at every opportunity, they also insult us with their primitive command of language. Such is the attitude of the elder brothers toward the younger…”
“You say you are obviously physically different, yet you look identical to a Polarian,” said Calvin, knowing that had been because this Dark One—this Skotadi—had deliberately taken the form of one of the Prelains in order to infiltrate the Council. Still, he hoped his comment would prompt some kind of description of what Skotadi looked like in their natural form.
The Phoenix Requiem (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 7) Page 44