Oh well. He supposed fraternising with a resistance leader probably wasn’t an activity deemed appropriate for his species either.
“Down here,” said Klik. She hopped into a dry canal bed that ran parallel to the alley. Perhaps it had once channeled water through the old city – now, it lay dead and full of dirt.
She sprinted into the shade of a bridge overhead and tugged at something hidden amongst a wall of overgrown weeds. A circular sewer grate groaned open.
“In!” She hurriedly waved them over. “Quickly!”
Tuner darted into the secret tunnel without a moment’s hesitation. Rogan followed somewhat more hesitantly, then Jack. It was almost pitch black inside, and it smelled of mould and rust.
Klik pulled the grate shut behind them.
4
The Krettelian Resistance
The tunnel was long, dark and carpeted with a soft, squelchy moss. Jack was glad to be wearing the protective spacesuit Tuner had built for him. Klik had to make the journey barefoot.
He also began to wonder if following Klik into the disused sewer system was a mistake. It could so easily be a trap. He couldn’t imagine what reason Klik’s people would possibly have to kidnap or kill the three of them, but this would be the perfect spot to do it.
“Love what you’ve done with the place.” Jack turned and the torch built into his spacesuit revealed more brickwork crumbling away. “Why base your headquarters here and not somewhere far away from the city?”
“Our ancestors dug these tunnels for the Mansa, countless centuries ago. Built whole cities under the sting of their whips. The way we see it, these ruins are ours by birthright. Besides, nothing waits for us out in the desert but sand and death.”
“As opposed to mud and lung disease,” Jack heard Rogan mutter to herself.
“Oh, shh,” said Tuner. “You don’t even need to breathe.”
“We’re almost there,” said Klik, offering them another meek smile.
She wasn’t lying. Before long the tunnel grew bright enough for Jack to reach up and switch off his flashlight. A flickering candlelight glow licked the sewer walls, crashing and retreating like sea froth over pebbles on a shore. He could hear hushed, hurried voices ahead.
A pair of sharp, bayonetted bolt rifles came swiping down in front of his face.
“Don’t hurt them!” Klik rushed forward and pushed their blades away. “They’re with me.”
Two towering Krettelians stepped out from the darkness. Their black eyes inspected Jack and the automata with fearful disdain. As Klik had demonstrated on the Adeona during their departure from Kapamentis, their species appeared to be remarkably adept at staying out of sight. After aeons living under the Mansa, perhaps they’d simply gotten used to it.
“Klik? Is that you? When we heard someone had taken you off-world, we didn’t think—”
“That I’d be coming back?” Klik laughed nervously. “My father sent me to find somebody – somebody who can help us get what we need. Here I am. Back. And you’re standing in his way.”
The Krettelian guards grunted and stepped aside, but their expressions didn’t grow any less wary. Jack didn’t blame them. He’d received a similar welcome upon landing in Detri, the secret sanctuary for automata refugees. It seemed he’d developed a habit of finding his way into places he didn’t have any right to know about.
“Sorry about that,” said Klik, inviting them to step through a clumsily dismantled opening in the side of the tunnel wall. “Can’t be too careful, right?”
Jack held onto Rogan’s arm for support as he climbed over the rubble and bricks. Once he was safely in the candlelit room beyond, he looked back up.
“Woah.”
It wasn’t a room beyond, but a hall – one occupied by hundreds of former Krettelian slaves. Some were soldiers and guards. Others were technicians working at computers cobbled together from junk. The rest sat huddled on bunks laid out like hospital stretchers at a refugee camp.
All of them shrank back when they saw Jack. There were a few frightened shrieks.
“Ah, shoot.” Klik grabbed Jack’s arm and hurried him towards the other side of the hall. The Krettelians were eager to clear a path. “Shouldn’t have taken you through this way. Should have known better. Stupid, Klik. Stupid!”
“Well, this isn’t awful at all,” groaned Jack, watching the aliens squirm in terror as he passed.
A thick, metal door separated the civilian hall from a private command centre. Klik flung it open and quickly ushered the three outsiders inside.
“Klik? Klik!”
An older and much bigger Krettelian marched over to them. He wore a patchwork military vest that looked incapable of surviving a shot from anything more powerful than a BB rifle. Two guards stood at the back of the room, their weapons aimed at the unexpected guests.
The older one wrapped his arms around Klik.
“Hello, father,” she said, breaking into the first genuine smile Jack had seen all day.
“I was so worried,” said her father, holding her at arm’s length so he could look at her better. “And you’re back so soon. Is… is this him?”
They both turned to look at Jack, who was halfway through taking off his helmet. He felt his stomach perform a somersault.
“Yes.” Klik stood aside. “This is Jack Bishop.”
Her father approached Jack and stuck out his hand.
“Thank goodness you came, Jack Bishop. It’s an honour. My name is Sek. I’m Klik’s father and leader of the Krettelian resistance here in Ankhir.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Jack, shaking his hand. His heart was pumping so hard he feared it might start spurting out from his ears. This was it. This was it. “Sorry to cut the pleasantries short, but Klik said you know how I can find my way back to Earth. I need you to tell me everything.”
Sek shot a quick glance at Klik, whose gaze fell to her feet. His posture stiffened.
“I do. But that’s valuable information, especially to you. It comes at a price.”
Jack felt frustration rise in his chest. He fought hard to keep his voice from showing it.
“And I’ll tell you the same thing we told your daughter when she snuck on board our ship. We didn’t come here to jump start your revolution. We came to ask you what you know. If you won’t tell us, we’re leaving.”
He turned to Rogan. Her expression softened. She nodded in appreciation.
Sek exhaled deeply. Then he gestured towards the table in the middle of the room.
“Fine. I suppose you’ll need to know if you’re to help us get the damn thing, anyway. Over here.”
The table was covered in dusty paper blueprints. They must have been relics or replicas the Krettelians had made – Jack couldn’t believe the Mansa would still produce physical copies of anything, let alone valuable schematics.
“You arrived in this quadrant of the galaxy through a wormhole, correct?”
Jack nodded.
“Figured as much,” continued Sek. “There’s still plenty of the galaxy left unexplored. Or uncharted, at the very least. If your home world lies out past the known rim, a wormhole is probably the quickest way to travel here. Dangerous, but quick.”
“We told him that when we found him.” Tuner gave Jack a friendly thump on the arm. “Good way to turn yourself inside out, wormholes are.”
Sek eyed the three of them with sympathy.
“Well, sorry to be the one to tell you this, Jack Bishop… but a wormhole might be your best shot at going back the other way.”
“Yeah, Klik said as much.” Jack pursed his lips. “If I’m honest, I’d rather not. I barely survived going through one the first time. Besides, it’s not as if they’re just lying about. Where would I even find one?”
Sek shook his head.
“Not find one. Make one. A random wormhole could send you anywhere in the galaxy. Universe, even. You have to make your own one if there’s a specific place you want to go.”
“Creating a wo
rmhole requires insane levels of energy,” said Rogan, crossing her arms. “Not to mention an understanding of engineering and theoretical physics that Jack here simply doesn’t possess. No offence,” she added.
“None taken,” replied Jack. To be fair, he was a rubbish engineer. But Everett Reeves had managed to make a wormhole before. At least he knew it was possible.
“Don’t worry about the practical side of things. The bigger problem is finding a source of energy powerful enough – and with a dense enough mass – to tear any hole in spacetime, let alone one headed for the exact right destination.”
Sek appeared to ponder this last point for a moment, staring down at a sheet of paper in front of him. Then he slid it across the table towards Jack.
“That’s where your interests and mine align. You need this. As it happens, so do we.”
Jack picked up the document. Rogan peered at it over his shoulder. Tuner struggled to see over the table. There was a picture of something small, round and chrome in the top-right corner. The rest was text, most of which was far too technical for Jack to understand.
“This is that core you mentioned before,” he deduced, nodding to Klik. She nervously approached the table again, having previously retreated to the shadows by the door. “What is it, exactly?”
“Oh, no.” Rogan shook her head and backed away. The apertures of her eyes were wide open. “Just… no. This is beyond stupid, Jack.”
Tuner snatched the paper from his hand.
“Oh boy.”
Sek ignored the automata and spoke directly to Jack.
“It’s a Solar Core. The Mansa Empire no doubt has a longer, more official designation for it. The tech is centuries old, though of course it’s still centuries ahead of what almost anyone else can do. The device itself is smaller than the skip drive on most ships, and yet…”
“And yet it’s capable of sustaining thermonuclear fusion on a massive scale,” said Tuner, staring at the paper in awe.
“Thermonuclear fusion?” Jack looked around the table. “Are you talking about an atom bomb?”
“They’re talking about stars, Jack.” Rogan glared at him with a look that said, Don’t do this. “A Solar Core captures and condenses whole suns.”
Jack felt his legs turn to jelly. Rogan had once told him he wouldn’t believe what people could do with a star these days. But condensing one down so it could fit inside something the size of a bowling ball? That was something entirely beyond belief. It was a struggle to even imagine it.
Surely any civilisation that could capture entire stars had the technology to fix a dying one?
“You’re not completely wrong about the bomb part, though,” said Sek. “In the wrong hands a Solar Core has the power to destroy whole star systems. But the Mansa have never used one for that, thank the gods. Not to our knowledge. They extract suns from dead systems out in Dark Space and then use them as power sources for the new worlds they’re terraforming. A single Core can provide almost unlimited energy. Certainly more than a single planet could ever need.”
“It would take a colony decades if not centuries to catch up using traditional energy methods,” said Tuner. “With a Solar Core, a world can become worthy of the Mansa Empire in a matter of weeks. It’s smart.”
“And you expect me to steal one of these things for you?” Jack let out a nervous titter. “Are you mad?”
“With a Solar Core, the Krettelians will finally have something we can use against the Mansa,” said Sek, slamming his fists on the table. “A single Core may be a small loss to them, but in our hands—”
“It’s a weapon?”
“It’s a bargaining chip,” replied Klik. She sidled closer to her father. “Whether we’d ever use its power against the Mansa or not is irrelevant. We could still threaten them with it. Even better – we could threaten to give it to somebody else.”
“Our people need to be set free.” Sek had calmed a little following Klik’s addition to the conversation. “The last thing we want is any bloodshed. There’s no fight against the Mansa Empire we can win.”
“And we fully sympathise with your cause,” said Rogan, leaning against the table, “but the three of us aren’t willing to die for it. We’re out.”
“Are you sure?” Sek raised himself to full height. “The look on your friend’s face says otherwise.”
Rogan spun around.
“Jack? You can’t seriously be considering doing this for them?”
“Without a Core, there’s no way he’ll find something both powerful and dense enough to make the wormhole he needs. Nor will he ever learn how.” Sek put an arm around his daughter. “We don’t need the Core, Jack. Only the threat of it. The Core, the coordinates for Earth – once we’re free, it’s all yours.”
“For bolt’s sake, Jack. I know I was being stubborn before, but this time you really are being an idiot. This is suicide.”
“What if this is the only way, Rogan? I can’t just give up… can I?”
“There’s always another way.”
Jack froze, unsure of what to say. Tuner spoke for him.
“So, what’s the plan?”
“Tuner?” Rogan whacked him on the shoulder. “What are you doing?”
He shrugged.
“We said we’d hear them out. So, let’s hear them out – crazy plan and all.”
“It’s less complicated than you’d think,” said Sek. “Once a Core has been filled, it gets transported straight to the colony or superstation it’ll be powering by armoured convoy, stashed amongst a whole other shipment of supplies.”
“Armoured convoy? That sounds the opposite of ‘less complicated’, if I’m being honest.”
“Listen. The convoy is built to protect itself from battlecruisers, super-destroyers. That sort of thing. Large scale warships could fire every proton missile they have at it, and they wouldn’t even make the shields of those supply ships flicker. The Mansa know there isn’t a single race in the galaxy strong enough to risk igniting a war against their empire.”
Jack narrowed his eyes.
“I’m guessing there’s some sort of caveat coming up?”
“The Mansa are complacent,” said Sek, growing irritated again. “Those shields are designed to protect the supply ships from ballistics and explosives, but anything travelling slowly enough can pass right through. There’d be no way to dock with it in case of an emergency otherwise. The supply ships themselves don’t tend to have much in the way of security inside, and the attack ships at the front and back of the convoy are only there as a deterrent, really.”
“Attack ships.” Jack ran his hands down his face. “Wonderful.”
“How come you know all this?” asked Rogan.
Sek’s posture stiffened.
“You’re not the only ones to show us sympathy,” he replied, gruffly. “Some gift us with food and equipment. Others, with intel. The same source that gave us the supply ship schematics also provided a copy of their schedule. There’s one due to cross the Penin system in two days time. It’ll be carrying one of these Cores in its cargo bay – it’s listed on the official manifest amongst the rest of the colony construction materials. I want you to get on board that ship and steal it for me.”
“I’m sure you do,” said Jack. “But I’m still missing how we’re supposed to get anywhere near that thing without being blown into stardust.”
“I can think of a way,” said Tuner. “Skip drives cut out upon approaching objects of large mass, right? If we aim for those supply ships, our drive should bring us out of subspace right on top of them. Presuming they’re big enough, that is. If we time it just right, the Adeona could drop us off and skip back into subspace before the Mansa attack ships even register something’s up.”
“It would look like a harmless near-miss,” said Jack, nodding. “Now that’s smart.”
“Nothing about this is smart!” Rogan grabbed Jack by the shoulders. “What in the name of the galaxy are you two thinking? If we do this, we’re
going to get ourselves killed!”
“Not we. Only me. If we do this – if we do this – then I’m the only one who needs to risk his life on that cargo ship. But there’s nothing to worry about anyway, is there, Sek?”
Sek coughed. “Not if you follow the plan, no. We’d do it ourselves if we could leave Paryx.”
“Good.” Jack crossed his arms and stared him down. “Then you won’t mind if Klik comes with us.”
Klik’s eyes grew wide. She backed away from the table. Sek clicked his mandibles together angrily.
“What? Why?”
“Consider it insurance. We’re risking everything by doing this. If Klik comes with us, then you’re risking everything too. But of course, none of us have got anything to worry about… right?”
Sek grumbled to himself, then turned to his daughter.
“I won’t make you go,” he said. “But—”
“It’s fine.” Klik nodded solemnly, laying a trembling hand on her father’s arm. “I want to do my part for the resistance. Somebody has to make sure Jack doesn’t renege on our deal once he has the Core, anyway.”
“So, it’s settled then.” Sek held out his hand across the table. “You bring us the Solar Core, and we get you back home.”
“It’s not too late, Jack.” Rogan lowered her voice. “We can still leave. Or I could threaten them for the information you need, if that’s what you want. Just please – don’t get yourself killed for their cause!”
Jack took a deep breath… and then shook Sek’s hand.
“It’s settled.”
Rogan groaned. Tuner stayed quiet. It was hard to tell what the little guy was thinking.
“You’ll need to leave straight away if you’re to make it in time,” said Sek, nodding at one of his guards. “I’ll give you everything we have on the Mansa supply ships in case any of it proves useful.”
Thief of Stars (Final Dawn, Book 2) Page 4