Nearspace Trilogy

by Sherry D. Ramsey

  “Does that mean they’re going somewhere else, not to Nearspace?” I asked a Relidae named Hin-Garan, who’d been assigned to me as a liaison and kept me updated on the intelligence reports coming in, explaining anything I didn’t understand.

  I felt a little guilty as soon as I’d asked the question. It wasn’t that I wanted the Pitromae to attack anyone else. It was just that if they were elsewhere, maybe we could make it home.

  Hin-Garan shrugged. He had skin the colour of rose quartz and an asymmetrical bone crest. One side had a ragged edge, dark with scorch marks, where a chunk had been torn away. I hadn’t asked him about it, but he’d volunteered the information that it had happened when the Pitromae attacked the orbital space station. I swallowed. That was the battle Luta and her crew had been present for, when she’d been so sick, when the Pitromae and their PrimeCorp allies had tried to overrun the station. Sitting here with this Relidae who’d been there, been injured there, made me shudder. Luta’s ordeal felt suddenly very close.

  But it was the next day that everything changed.

  I WAS SITTING in Den-Aldar’s office with Linna Drake, Cerevare Brindlepaw, Ambassador Andresson, and Hin-Garan, speculating about how long we’d continue to be locked down here. After a brief knock on the door, a Relidae with mint-coloured skin and a worried face entered the room and hurried over to Den-Aldar, leaning close to speak to him. I saw the Legate’s face change, and my translator picked up his low reply.

  “Send word to Mar-Heden. We might intercept some on their way back, if any remain. I’ll tell our guests.”

  Mar-Heden, I knew, was the chief of the planet’s military force. I’d met her at several official functions since we’d been here. When the messenger hurried away, Den-Aldar stood, and Cerevare and I did as well. The look on Den-Aldar’s alien face was grave.

  “My friends, I have received worrisome news,” he said. “The Pitromae have launched another attack in Nearspace, this time against one of your stations. Although I believe it is still dangerous, I will understand if you wish to leave immediately.”

  I swallowed. We had five large habitat stations scattered around Nearspace, and a few smaller research and scientific bases. “Did they know the name of the station?” I asked. It shouldn’t have made a difference to me. I was duty-bound to care about and protect them all. But it did.

  Den-Aldar looked rueful. “Not a name. But it is in the star system you would have left on your journey to come here.”

  There was only one station in Delta Pavonis. FarView. Where I’d left both Regina and Luta. Cold sweat prickled the back of my neck and my gut clenched as if against a punch.

  I’d had a mug of a sweet, tea-like drink the Relidae served at any and all occasions, and set it down on the table with a hand that felt a little shaky. What if Regina hadn’t gotten my message? What if they’d been caught completely unaware?

  We’d been away far too long.

  “Thank you for your hospitality and your help, Den-Aldar,” I managed to say, “But you are correct. I think it’s time to take the chance. We’ll be leaving immediately.”

  THE TRIP FROM the Relidae planet back to Delta Pavonis and FarView Station felt like the longest of my life. We’d spread the word quickly among the others, and encountered only a slight delay when we gathered together. Lieutenant-Commander Emar Summergale stood to attention in front of me, saluted me formally, and said, “Requesting permission to remain on the planet to assist and protect Professor Brindlepaw, Admiral.”

  I glanced at the Lobor professor but her face showed surprise as well. “The Professor seems safe here, Lieutenant-Commander,” I said. “Do you have a particular reason for your request?”

  Summergale stood even straighter, if that was possible. “No, sir. But I respectfully submit that it may be in the professor’s interests to have a member of the Protectorate with her. As well, I can continue to act as a Protectorate liaison with the Relidae. You’re aware of my diplomatic experience, sir. It’s why you sent me along with the envoys in the first place.”

  Well, that was true enough. “Very well, Lieutenant-Commander.” She’d been staying on the planet anyway, so there was nothing to fetch from the Cheswick. We’d brought her personal belongings from the Tane Ikai with us and delivered them as soon as we arrived, along with Cerevare’s things.

  Den-Aldar, who had listened quietly to the discussion, now said, “We would be very pleased to entertain another Nearspace guest, Admiral.”

  Summergale saluted me. “Thank you, sir. My experience while we’ve been here leads me to believe that we’ll be looked after.”

  Den-Aldar and I had already discussed the establishment of a communications relay between Tabalo, the Corvid station, and Nearspace, although the plan had been derailed by the Pitromae activity. He assured me that they would do everything possible to coordinate with the Corvids and set it up. I had the feeling that even Cerevare and Lieutenant-Commander Summergale would feel better knowing it was a reasonably simple matter to get word to us if the need arose.

  Then the rest of us said hurried goodbyes and reiterated our thanks to the Relidae. Worry gnawed at me as we piled into the launch. I knew it, and this frantic race home, were both futile. Whatever had happened was long over now. Nothing would change dependent on when the Cheswick crossed back into Nearspace. Still, the drive to get home, to see Luta and Regina and assure myself they were safe, was fierce.

  Once aboard the Cheswick, we set course for home. It wasn’t until we were underway that I sat back in my chair and wondered how the hell I was going to fill almost two days until we arrived at FarView.

  I was in the library, hunting for some holovid I hadn’t already watched a million times, when Yuskeya and Viss found me. It was a small room that held a few workstations and small tables and chairs and a wall rack of datachips—books, videos, games, and other entertainments—for the ship’s crew to borrow as they wished. Much of the task of patrolling Nearspace, after all, consisted of long in-system stretches where nothing much happened. Not that I was complaining about that. I’d rather a hundred uneventful patrols than the events of the past few weeks.

  The walls here, unlike much of the rest of the ship, had been painted in a soothing blue, and the furnishings were intended for comfort rather than pure utility. Tucked between the crew quarters and the galley and recreation area, it provided a quiet and reasonably private spot for research, de-stressing, or small group discussion. By silent consent we gathered around one of the small tables. Yuskeya said, trying for a light tone, “Viss and I have discussed it, and we’ve decided that Luta and everyone are fine.”

  “Absolutely,” Viss said. “They might not even have been there when it happened. The Captain isn’t one to sit around when she could be hauling cargo.”

  I realized my leg was bouncing with agitation under the table, and forcibly stilled it. Neither of them knew the depth of worry I had for Regina as well, but I kept quiet about that. “You’re right,” I said, forcing a tense smile. “These in-system travel times are just hell sometimes.”

  “So, let’s talk about something else,” Yuskeya said, leaning back in her chair. “What in the worlds do you think PrimeCorp is up to with those Chron?”

  I hesitated a moment, thinking of Harle’s request that I keep the results of his investigations close to my chest. But Yuskeya certainly wasn’t the mole in the Protectorate.

  “Something big. Whatever deal they’ve made with the Chron, PrimeCorp’s also managed to get a sizable number of ex-employees into high positions at several other corps—too many to be pure coincidence,” I added, when Yuskeya looked like she might object. “I have a feeling that it’s all tied together. But after talking to Den-Aldar, I wonder if even PrimeCorp knows what they’ve gotten mixed up in.”

  “I don’t see what PrimeCorp can hope to gain by allying itself with enemies of Nearspace,” Viss said. “I mean, it has to be financial gain; that’s what PrimeCorp is all about.”

  “It could go deeper t
han that.”

  “We don’t have anyone on the inside anywhere, who could poke around?” Yuskeya asked. She didn’t come right out and say it, but I assumed she included connections Mother might have in the question.

  I shrugged. “We’re considering some possibilities. Nothing yet.” I tapped my fingers on the tabletop. “The Relidae seem almost too good to be true, but I can’t help it—I trust them.”

  Yuskeya thought for a moment, then nodded. “I do, too. Cerevare was already completely won over by them, when we arrived, and she certainly had no love for the Chron as a species before. I think we can count on them as allies.”

  “The NWAC will want to establish formal relations with them soon,” I said. “They’ll recognize that we need all the help we can get to cope with the Chron threat, just like we did in the last war.”

  “It’ll be interesting to see how the PrimeCorp ambassadors like that idea,” Viss said. “If the corporation is in league with the Chron.”

  I pushed my chair back and stood. “They’ll likely go along with the program and keep quiet,” I said. “But they don’t know we suspect something bigger is happening. We’ll just have to see that we put all the pieces together while there’s still time to stop it.”

  “If it’s not already too late,” Yuskeya said, with uncharacteristic pessimism.

  “It’s not,” I told her, with a conviction I didn’t feel. “We’ll make sure of it. Now let’s go and find something to eat.”

  THE LESS SAID about the rest of that trip, the better. It felt achingly slow, even though I let everyone know we were to move with all speed, and we ran the burst drive almost the entire way. Yuskeya and Viss and I stayed close, united in our worry for the Tane Ikai.

  I sent a message to Fha and the Corvids when we passed their station—it was still curled into a protective ball as they worked on repairs. I asked if they’d been hit again by the Chron passing through on their way to attack FarView, but she sent back a puzzled reply.

  “Admiral, there have been no further incursions through this system since you left us.”

  I shot a glance at Linna Drake. “We got word of an attack in Nearspace when we were with the Relidae,” I said. “I assumed they would have had to pass through this system to get there.” That had been stupid of me. I had never asked the Relidae if they knew precisely how the Chron had entered Nearspace.

  On the screen, the Corvid’s bright black eyes radiated worry. “This means they have another access point into your Nearspace,” she said. “I will try to find out if another of our protective systems has been compromised, or if this is something new.”

  “Thank you. We’ll look forward to any information you can give us,” I said automatically, but I felt a creep of fear in my gut. If the Chron hadn’t passed through the Corvid system, where had they come from? The only other wormhole into Nearspace that we knew about was in Tau Ceti, but that one was now under heavy Protectorate guard. I couldn’t imagine an attack force getting past them and making the three skips it would take to reach Delta Pavonis, undetected. Just another reason I had to get back and talk to Regina as quickly as possible.

  Once we’d reached Corvid space, I could send a message to FarView via the new relay beacons. I felt a rush of relief when, after a couple of tense minutes’ wait, Regina herself responded.

  “Got our stray sheep?” she asked me with a tight smile.

  “Safe and sound,” I said. “Everything all right there?”

  Her smile faded. “I wouldn’t say that, but we’re still standing. What’s your ETA?”

  “Less than four hours now.”

  “All right, report to me as soon as you can once you dock,” she said. “I’m in medical. Come find me here.”

  I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, but she quelled me with a look and a brief, “Glad you’re back. See you soon, Admiral.” Then she closed the connection before I could even respond and left me staring at a blank screen.

  I tried messaging Luta, but the only response was a notification that she was not in the Delta Pavonis system, and that it would be relayed as a deliverable in proximity. I wondered if she’d left me any kind of message about where she was going, but I’d have to wait until I was close enough to a relay point to get my own DIPs for an answer to that question.

  I heaved a sigh and went to the gym to kill some more time.

  WHEN WE FINALLY got in range, a deliverable-in-proximity message came in from Luta—but it was maddeningly brief and vague. She said only that she and her crew were all fine after the Chron attack and that they’d left on a run out-system. She asked me to let Viss and Yuskeya know that she’d be back soon to collect them, and to have a little rest and relaxation on the station in the meantime.

  I wasn’t sure R & R was very near the top of their priority lists, though, once FarView station came into view. Yuskeya, Viss, and I were all on the bridge with the duty crew when we caught our first glimpse of the pale yellow temporary seal closing off the breach in the station’s hull. It pulsed gently, neither bright nor opaque enough to hide the gaping, ragged hole left by the Chron attackers. Debris still hung in a wide ring around the damaged area, and small shuttles moved with funereal slowness as tethered forms in EVA suits gathered bits and pieces by hand. There must have been bodies initially, but they would have been retrieved first.

  Sharp pain flickered along my jaw and I had to deliberately unclench it. I still hadn’t heard an official number for casualties of the attack, but I knew there had been deaths. Everyone who ventured into space knew there were risks involved, although we’d become, as a whole, quite casual about those risks. But no-one expected to die this kind of violent, senseless death in what should be one of the safest environments we could construct. Whatever the Chron were doing, and whatever part PrimeCorp had in this, we had to stop them.

  Viss had discreetly put a hand next to Yuskeya’s when the destruction came into view, and she had taken it. Her face was resolute and sombre as her dark eyes took in the scene, perfect Protectorate protocol, but I knew she’d feel this affront as keenly as I did.

  It flitted through my mind that this might be a good time to recall Yuskeya back to regular Protectorate duty, but I knew how close she and Luta had become. It didn’t seem fair to make that move without discussing it with Luta first. And I knew that maybe a little part of me just wanted to take her away from Viss, which was not only mean-spirited, but dishonourable.

  Viss caught my eye, and I felt an uncomfortable flutter in my gut, as if maybe he knew what I was thinking. But his eyes flicked back to the hole in FarView station. “Bastardos,” he said flatly, just stating a fact. “I’ll stay aboard as long as I’m needed, Admiral.”

  “Thanks, Viss,” I said. “As soon as we’re docked, I’ll see what Fleet Commander Holles has in mind for us. Luta’s probably going to be anxious to get you both back aboard the Tane Ikai, though.”

  Did a flash of relief cross Yuskeya’s face? If so, it was so quickly there and gone that I might have imagined it. But she must have wondered if she’d find herself back aboard the Cheswick in the wake of these new developments. It would only make sense. And if she was needed here, her duty would be to fulfill that need.

  However, duty wasn’t everything, as I knew better than most. So I said nothing more about it, pushed those thoughts away, and went to see Regina. Lieutenant-Commander Didkovsky left the Cheswick at the same time, reporting back to the Protectorate Admin on the station. He thanked me again for bringing him back to Nearspace, and we parted ways as I took the elevator down to medical.

  The medical bay occupied one third of the lowest level of FarView Station, along with labs and research areas that were theoretically shared among all the corporations and governments scattered around Nearspace. Occasional complaints held that funding and space allocation moved into the realm of politics, but it wasn’t a Protectorate matter and I paid little attention. Considering all the current questions surrounding PrimeCorp, though, I was curious to know
if they were currently using any station resources. I made a mental note to ask about it as I watched the levels crawl past the descending elevator. The side walls were glass, allowing glimpses of corridors or public areas as they slid past. I was glad to see that life on the station appeared to be carrying on as usual, but that fantasy dissipated as I passed the level that had suffered the most damage in the Chron attack. The corridor on one side of the elevator shaft was littered with repair materials, and on the other, the golden glow of the temporary shield flickered, securing the blasted-away section of station hull. Workers in full EVA suits toiled to repair the damage. I swallowed. Life was not proceeding as usual for a lot of people, no matter what facade they presented to the world.

  The destruction slid past and I arrived at the medical level. The walls here offered a pale yellow that I suppose was meant to be cheery and soothing. I followed the curving corridor to a desk and asked for Regina. The nurse gave me a look that held just a hint of martyrdom, and asked me to follow him along the antiseptic-smelling hallway. Behind his back, I suppressed a smile. Knowing Regina as well as I did, I had no illusions about what kind of a patient she’d make. The not-so-patient kind.

  The nurse stopped outside a door numbered 9-4 and knocked lightly. Regina’s voice called, “Come in!” and he pushed the door open and stepped aside for me to enter. He didn’t follow me in.

  Regina nodded brusquely when she saw me, and I felt a flood of relief to see her sitting up in the bed, datapad in hand. She’d pulled her hair back even more severely than usual, and her face looked drawn, as if she were in pain or had been recently. Her brown eyes snapped with energy, though. Energy, and something else—pent-up frustration, I thought. The sheet traced a much larger lump for one leg than for the other one, so it must be encased in a brace or cast. She didn’t mention it.

  “Thank you for reporting in, Admiral. I’ll want to hear your report from the Corvid system right away.”