by Chris Reher
“It’s sad to see you reduced to mockery, Captain. It’s beneath you. You have far greater purpose and potential.”
“What are you up to, Lok?” she said, not expecting an answer. She was surprised when he actually seemed to consider her question. He looked at the door as if preparing to leave the room, and then back at her. A few silent moments ticked by before he stepped around the other cot and sat down.
He leaned forward. “You can make a difference in all this, if you wish, Captain,” he said slowly, as if choosing his words with care. “You know the Centauri don’t belong here. And neither do you. But more importantly, you don’t belong in power here. Your Union has the guns and the wealth to make it so, but that doesn’t make it right.”
She shrugged, having had to listen to rebel lectures before this day. But his didn’t sound like the usual disjointed harangue she had heard before. There was a quiet tone of reason in his voice that intrigued her.
“That slice of graphene in your head can change everything,” he said.
Nova blinked. “What?”
“Do I have your attention? The ANI will shorten the distance between us all even more than the stable gates already have. Some day it may even reach to Centauri in a single jump instead of two years. Is that what we want? Can you imagine the horrific escalation of our wars? Do you think the Shri-Lan are going to sit idly by while you overrun more of our worlds?”
Nova felt a little transfixed by the large yellow eyes focused upon her with fierce intensity. She had heard this not so many hours ago when Tuain had said much the same on Dannakor. And now Sao Lok, a rebel, also seemed desperately afraid of what the new interface would mean to all of them.
“What do you want from me?” she asked, as she had asked Tuain.
Sao Lok drew back and his eyes shifted away from her face. “There are ways to stop all of this. You can help us stop it.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You do not have to spend your life in mindless service to your Union. To Air Command. There are other paths you can take.”
She raised both eyebrows, nearly amused by his suggestion. “You are asking me to defect?”
“It may be a good choice for you.” He looked down at his hands and thoughtfully twisted one of several rings on his thumbs. “When my kinsmen heard that you were going to be part of the ANI project, I was directed to, ultimately, hand you over to them. To Pe Khoja’s clan. Their need for justice requires it.” His eyes returned to hers. “Eventually they will find you. And Major Tychon. But I want to convince them that you hold far greater value. You are an immense source of information. You have access to places we cannot go. You have skills that we need. But there is more. I’ve read about you. Heard about you. You are resourceful and you have proven that you are more than just a soldier. You can have great influence and power among my people.”
“You’ve studied me?”
“Yes, of course,” he said, apparently not aware of her discomfort at that revelation.
“Then you should know that power doesn’t interest me. Wealth doesn’t, either.”
“I do know that. What matters to you is the stability of Trans-Targon. But I don’t think I’m wrong to believe that it wouldn’t matter to you how this will be accomplished.”
“It cannot be accomplished your way! You Arawaj are as destructive as the Shri-Lan, except that you don’t have the means to be really good at it. You’re as murderous as they are.”
“And you? Are you not? If you had a gun you would shoot me and everyone else here without a second thought. Maybe killing rebels is so easy for you that it does not even require a first thought! How many have you killed? Can you even still count them all?” He paused briefly as if waiting for an answer. “You don’t even consider or understand the difference between Shri-Lan and Arawaj. We don’t seek wealth like common pirates. We just want the Union gone. We want this sector to return to the peace we knew before you showed us how to pollute other worlds with our presence.”
“You really believe that is possible?” she asked, more curious than derisive.
“I do,” he said. She gasped when he actually took her hands in his and squeezed them for emphasis. “I really do! Tell me, Captain, if it were possible, would you not give up your life to end these wars? To bring peace into this sector?”
She tilted her head. “Yes,” she said. “I would. And many of us do. Every day.”
He nodded. “So is it then such a big leap for you to change the way you view us? And the way you view your own people? With people like you on our side we can start over. The right way.”
She pulled her hands out of his grasp. “Your way! Arawaj ways.”
“The Arawaj is only the part of Caspia that is desperate for a solution. Our homeworld is peaceful. We want it to remain that way.”
“Now you sound like the old Delphians. Except they just ignore what they don’t like. You want to destroy it.”
“Before it destroys us. As it will destroy Delphi. The interface you carry is the next step in that process. What if I told you that you can help us bring peace to this entire sector? End these wars. Start all over again. Peacefully.”
“How?”
He stood up. “I will not tell you that now. I want you to think about what I said. You know I’m right. We, the Arawaj, are not your enemy. Not like the Shri-Lan who are so busy collecting war trophies that they have forgotten what they are rebelling against.”
“I am not a traitor.”
“I don’t care what you call yourself, Captain. I am offering a way that you can actually make a difference in this world you’ve created.” He opened the door to the hall. “Think about it. Then let me know when you’re ready get over your single-minded loyalties and listen to reason.”
“I’ll be sure to do that,” she said, aiming for sarcasm but missing the mark.
He smiled thinly. “Believe me when I say that I hope to make you see us for what we really are. I hope, if I may be so presumptuous, to be your friend. I like you, to be blunt. But I will not underestimate you. Do not try to cross Rakh. Remember that I know how the ANI works. You won’t have access to communications.”
“You would rather die out here than risk capture by Air Command?”
“Yes. Stop trying to make your people out to be any more noble than those contemptible Shri-Lan. If you manage to send a message through that keyhole and if that leads Air Command here, we will be captured. Rakh will probably murder every one of your people before giving up. And then your commanders will simply blow this ship to pieces. The Union has no interest in filling its prisons with rebel foot soldiers and you know it.”
Nova said nothing. He was right. Rakh’s rabble was worthless to Air Command. And Azon Corp had a staff of thousands. Every last civilian on board was replaceable.
“I will make sure that you remain unharmed. You and the young Delphian in any case. I am not concerned about the others. It’s up to you to keep them alive a little longer by cooperating.”
She held up her hand. “No. Not with threats, Lok. If you are so much better than the rest of us, show me. Promise me that no one else will get hurt while I consider what you’ve said.”
He tilted his head. “Bargaining, Captain?”
“Yes. They are civilians. They did not ask for this.”
“I will try. But this is a Shri-Lan ship. Their fate is in Rakh’s hands.”
“I am pretty sure you have his ear by now. You are persuasive.”
He smiled. That smile was every bit as friendly and attractive as it had been on Dannakor when they had shared a leisurely breakfast what now seemed ages ago. When she had liked him for his knowledge and wit and the certainty that he belonged on her team. “You are the only one I’m hoping to persuade,” he said. “But I will try to manage that Centauri’s baser instincts. If you do your part and get us home.”
Nova kicked the bunk on which he had sat as soon as the Caspian had left the cabin. “Bloody hell, bloody rebels, bloody stupid Luce
!” She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. She was to blame for this, too, she knew. She should have tried harder to stop Luce from making the jump. Would the rebels have destroyed the freighter? Or would they now be hostages also, but at least in a safer part of the galaxy?
And what was Sao Lok planning? Was he really hoping to recruit her to his cause? He seemed so very convinced that he had some critical answer to all of their troubles. Was it possible? Clearly, the man’s intelligence and cunning had gotten him past Azon Corp’s security processes to get him a position on Dannakor’s ANI team. Of what else was he capable?
She sat, brooding and planning, for what seemed like hours, until the door opened and Jovan stepped into the cabin. He looked around the cramped space and did not flinch when the door behind him slid shut with more force than necessary. He leaned against it and regarded her for a while. “At least on the other ship I wasn’t locked up,” he said finally.
“They’re going to cut the Terius loose,” she replied. “It’s taking up too many resources.”
“I assumed that.”
“Did you get a chance to find the other interface?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “I made it into that... room. They had them stacked up like they don’t care. Just piled up! It was so cold in there. I could barely breathe. I found your Captain Luce. There were only holes in the sides of his head. But very precisely cut. Someone knew what they were doing.”
She grimaced. “I’m sorry, Jovan. That must have been awful.”
“Yes,” he allowed. “It was.” He sat on the other bunk and folded his hands between his knees as he leaned forward in a posture eerily similar to Sao Lok’s. “What’s your plan?”
“My plan?”
“You didn’t have me locked up in here with you just because you miss Delphian company. And from what I know about you and Shan Tychon, you’re not the sort to take orders from rebels. So you must have a plan.”
“We don’t really have any options. We’re going to have to jump us back home.” Nova nodded toward the door and then surreptitiously pointed at her interface by scratching the side of her face.
He winced. Another khamal with the Human so soon after the last one was surely going to hurt. Reluctantly, he reached out as if he, in his capacity as Shantir, was examining her bruised cheek. His fingers touched her interface and she soon felt his presence inside her head.
How are you holding up? This is all so alien to you.
He sent a mental shrug and again she was reminded of Human teenage attitudes. She hid her smile along with her worry for him.
I don’t think the interface can make the long spans possible, she relayed. It’ll likely kill me as it killed Captain Luce and then it may not bring us any closer to home, anyway. But I am being forced to try or they will kill the others. Those that are left.
You want me to help you with the jump?
No. I won’t ask that of you. It’s too dangerous. We’re going to try to reach Shan Tychon.
He blinked. How?
I think I can do it. If you help me.
That is not possible! You cannot begin a khamal without a physical connection. It just cannot be done. And at such a distance!
Distance is nothing, she sent. You should know this by now. Even your sect’s own teachings are clear on that.
But how will you touch him?
I don’t think I need to. There is some connection between Tychon and me that we haven’t really explored. But it’s there. I think it’s because of what happened back before Cyann was born.
He nodded. There are rumors about that in the enclave. That it changed you. Physically. That you’re a transgenic mod. That you’re not really Human any more.
I’ve heard that, too. Don’t mind the rumors. I’m all Human and proud of it.
You don’t seem convinced.
Can we talk about my plan, please?
If you wish.
I think together we can reach Ty. If we can get his attention he will join us and then there will be three of us working together. Right now no one even knows where we are, or if we’re alive. If we can connect with Trans-Targon they will come for us. We just have to stall for time. We’ll pretend to work on the jump.
He seemed skeptical. It was clear by his narrowed eyes and tight-lipped expression that the pain in his head had already reached an uncomfortable level. It’s going to hurt. Will it damage me?
It doesn’t seem to harm Tychon. We will be in a deeper khamal most of the time. I just need you to help me stay focused. And some of the time we can just pretend to be working together. We just need more time!
Very well, then.
Nova glanced around the room. Would they have video surveillance in here? She pretended to scratch another itch while hooking her fingers into a pocket.
I have a copy of the interface. Maybe it’s best if you kept it safe. They’re not likely to search you. If they do, try to destroy it.
He smiled tiredly. Swallow it, perhaps. Like a proper spy would?
Nova remembered cutting the device from Quinn’s head and bit back a comment. Perhaps some of her Vanguard squad mates would see the ghoulish humor in that; Jovan would not. Well, let’s hope you don’t need to.
She put her hand on his knee and he patted it comfortingly until she pulled it away, leaving the small metal device behind.
“You know,” he said after breaking their mental link. “Sometimes I’ve wondered about maybe joining Air Command. I can see the base from my balcony in the enclave on Delphi. All those planes taking off to places I might never see. What you do sounds so incredibly exciting. Hearing about Shan Tychon and some of the other Delphians who’ve become pilots and engineers and explorers makes me wish I was doing those things, too.”
“Why don’t you?” she said. “If your head is good enough for the Shantirs, it’s more than good enough to be a top-level spanner. You could take a ship anywhere. At your age Tychon had dreams of exploring, of deep space, too. Things worked out differently for him, but I know he still sometimes thinks about it. He could help you with this. We both could.”
She shrugged. “Shan Tychon’s contempt for the Shantirate is well known. He’d want nothing to do with me.”
“You don’t have to be a Shantir,” she said carefully.
“I have a duty. I was never meant to be anything but a Shantir. You know there is no higher station among us. It’s a privilege I can’t discard lightly.”
“But is it what you want?”
He was silent for so long that she thought he might not answer at all. “It’s what I love. But I have only my dreams to compare it to.”
“You would not be the first Shantir to leave Delphi.”
“Leave Delphi?” He shook his head at that notion. “It’s a dream, nothing more.”
“Just for a while. To explore and to learn. We need people like you off-world. Ambassadors, scientists. Your abilities are needed elsewhere as much as in the enclave.”
“Recruiting, are you?”
“Yeah. They’ll not run out of Shantir initiates so quickly on Delphi. But imagine the sort of Shantir you can be if you spent some years exploring other places. You would be worth so much more to your sect. They will not stop you.”
“The Council might.” He stared into the distance somewhere a few light years beyond her left shoulder. “I’ve dreamed of flying. Piloting I mean. Like you... like Shan Tychon.” He gave her a shy smile. “Seeing you in that cockpit, trying to save everybody, knowing that we were being chased. It... it was so unimaginable. So frightening. And yet the thought of taking a ship to some faraway place is more wonderful than anything I can think of.”
“Then do it!” She looked around their dreary cabin. “You don’t have to join Air Command if these accommodations aren’t up to your tastes.”
He surprised her by laughing at that. “You have a way about you, Human. I can see why Shan Tychon chose you.”
She smiled back at him. Once relaxed and l
ess intent on disguising the distress he must surely be feeling aboard this rebel ship, his handsome face lit up with warmth and kindness. “Well, think about it. I can help you find a place to start your studies.”
His smile faded. His vague gesture encompassed their surroundings. “If...”
Chapter Six
Walking here, along the high fence that cordoned off the Air Command base allocation from the rest of Delphi, where fences were used only to control livestock, had always given Tychon a feeling of being in two worlds at once.
He looked to his left, across the flat, deserted expanse of the airfield where a few military and civilian planes parked cozily side by side. Not far was the base itself, also well-maintained because Delphians wouldn’t have it any other way even if few of them ever set a foot inside. And then he looked to the right, through the fence and over the shallow bowl of the Chalyss’ya valley, flanked on two sides by soaring, snow-capped mountain ranges. A single city nestled at the opposite end of the valley, close enough to feel the protection and convenience of the Union base, yet far enough away to make a point.
He threaded his fingers through the links of the fence and breathed deeply of the cool, moist air rising from the valley. Several of Delphi’s moons illuminated the farms and fields below him but the silvery light did not seem to dispel the dark up here.
“Did you want me to notice you or are you really so inept?” he asked the shadows.
“Was waiting for visiting hours to be over,” came the reply, spoken with a lazy drawl. The man who had silently followed Tychon since he left the base hospital came into the light of the moons. As smooth-featured and black-haired as all Centauri, he moved with feline grace made all the more catlike for the eyes that seemed to reflect the moonlight. A scar marred his forehead above the right eye.
“Sethran Kada, I’m guessing.” Tychon said.
“That’s me, Cap’n,” the Centauri replied.
“Major.”
“Right.”
“How did you get onto the base?”