by S. L. Viehl
“I saw some of their sculptures while I was down there,” the hunter told him, “but they were much larger than anything I have seen at your embassy.”
Paal’s throat closed. “How much larger?” he asked when he could force the words out.
“It was difficult to see the exact dimensions, but what they had built was three times as tall as I, and many, many times as wide.”
Such a change in barax behavior alarmed Paal even more than their attack on him and the Skartesh. “We must return to the colony at once and inform security.”
“Does this indicate some danger, Sculptor?” Moleon gave the sentries positioned around the hive an uneasy look.
Paal didn’t answer. He had already abandoned his dignity and was hurrying back toward the embassy, running as fast as he could on all fours.
CHAPTER 7
Taking Liana with him to the command center was not his wisest decision, Burn thought. She was a diplomat, not a soldier. It would have been much safer for her to stay sealed away back in the cargo bay or even on the transpod, where the mercenaries couldn’t get at her again. At the same time, he felt relieved that he had chosen not to leave her behind. Keeping her close made him feel better, steadier, and she obviously did not want to be left on her own.
Now just make sure you don’t get her killed.
They nearly encountered a pair of mercenaries halfway to the helm, but Burn quickly reversed in the water at the sight of them and took an alternate corridor before the two heavily armed males could see him.
Almost there. He stopped to seal a hatch behind them, then pulled some wiring out of the control panel and hooked it to the manual release latch. He felt Liana shift as she looked to see what he was doing. If anyone touches this, they’ll get a jolt.
Tell me what to do and I will fix the hatch on the other side, Liana asked as they entered the sphere enclosing the ship’s helm.
Burn quickly explained the method, then went to the pilot’s console to strap in to the empty, floating harness. As he’d suspected, the mercenaries had only powered down the various functions of the ship, intending to preserve it for their own use. It was a simple matter to restore propulsion and weapons, but the communication panel had been thoroughly destroyed.
No hope of contacting Shon or the others until major repairs were made to the ship.
Burn looked at the cracks running through the ruined panel surface, and an idea popped into his head. The mercenaries had been smart enough to bring breathing rigs, but likely had done nothing to protect the equipment.
Can you fly the ship?
Burn finned an affirmative. The flight controls responded as soon as he restored power to the engines, and he checked the position of the pilots’ pod before turning the huge ship and heading on a route back to K-2.
Are we not returning to Ylyd? Liana asked, swimming over to inspect the course readings.
I would, but the ship could be rigged with high-density explosives, he told her. The mercenaries were beaming a signal to your fleet to come and rescue you. It could have been to draw them close before they blew up the ship.
Liana looked horrified. They would do such a thing?
Decoys are very popular with their kind, and I can think of no other reason they would want your fleet here. He transferred weapons and flight control to one console and positioned himself behind it. Can you monitor the outer corridors and tell me if anyone tries to get in here?
Liana seemed startled by his request, then simply finned “yes” and took position at a terminal close to his console before strapping herself in. Burn, how are we going to signal for help without a working transponder?
I don’t know, but I will think of something. Surely Shon would guess that it was Burn at the helm of the ship and not one of the mercenaries. On the other hand, he was flying into closely guarded space without the ability to identify himself.
Or maybe I can.
The sphere’s flight controls responded instantly to his touch, although their jump into flight made both the pilots’ pod and the mercenary ships break off their attacks on each other. As soon as he had every ship identified, Burn engaged the Ylydii’s weapons array and charged the pulse cannons.
What are you doing? Liana asked, watching the cannon fire appear on the front viewer panel.
I’m a gunner and a pilot, he told her as he fired off another spread at the mercenary ships. This is how I can say hello to the family.
Oh. Liana returned her attention to the monitor in front of her, and when Burn glanced over a quick flash from the console illuminated her dark face. Two males were trying to open the hatch.
There would be more coming, and one of them might figure out how to short-circuit the panel. Burn had to stop them where they were. Looking again at the cracked companel gave him an idea. Liana, can your people withstand sudden pressure changes?
Rapid changes make us uncomfortable, she told him, but they do not harm us. Only large shifts in temperature do that.
Burn had little hope of finding any other survivors, but he still had to consider them as well. Do you have any staff or crew members who are not Ylydii?
No.
Burn tapped into the ship’s atmospheric controls and increased the pressure to all levels and compartments except the helm. As aquatics were accustomed to shifts in pressure while diving, their bodies would automatically compensate.
Any humanoid nonaquatic on the ship would not equalize as well, and neither would their equipment. Burn turned on the ship’s common area monitors and watched the mercenaries writhing.
It is hurting them, Liana said. She was also watching the effects on her panel.
It will render them unconscious.
Faint waves rippled through the water, bringing the sound of voices crying out in pain. The taste of new blood also came.
Suns. Burn immediately decreased the pressure in slow increments, knowing that to do the same rapidly would definitely kill the mercenaries. I only wanted them unconscious.
I think they are dead. She looked away.
He checked the monitors and saw several bodies floating motionless outside in the corridor, surrounded by a fog of blood in the water.
I killed them?
They would have killed us, Liana said.
It was not the same, but Burn had no more time to dwell on it. The sphere’s auto-targeting system was too sluggish for Burn’s taste, so he disengaged and put the entire array on full manual, working the weapons with one fin and the flight controls with the other. Because of the complexity of the control protocols, he couldn’t give the pulse cannons his full attention. You wouldn’t happen to know how to fly this ship, would you?
Liana slipped out of her harness and came to him. Royals are trained to fly every vessel in our fleet.
So she was a diplomat and royalty as well. That explained some things, like those distant, cold looks she had given him a few times. Ylydii royals, according to the stories Burn had heard, were very rare individuals kept segregated from the rest of their society, who only saw them from a distance or to pay homage during some cultural ritual.
At least they didn’t kill a ship full of men by accident.
Liana looked at him. What is wrong?
Don’t crash into any of those, he flicked a fin at the blips on her screen that represented the ’Zangians’ strafers. Or those. He tapped the position of the nearest energy shunt field, left behind by the war. You’re sure that you know how to pilot?
She gave him another of her odd, aloof looks. Keep your harness on, ’Zangian. You’re about to find out.
“Pardon the interruption, Administrator, but we have a situation developing.”
The quiet voice, along with the delicious scent of something dark and freshly brewed, dragged Ana’s attention from the emergency incident report she had been reading. “Does it involve hostile barax, and, Good Lord, is that Terran coffee?”
“No barax, ma’am, but affirmative on the coffee,” Emily Kim said as she c
arried a small server tray to Ana’s desk.
It had been an interesting week since Emily had reported for her first shift. Ana had discovered that her new assistant was not only efficient and precisely punctual, but that she had taken over Carsa’s duties with utter confidence and skill. To her knowledge, the younger woman had not made a single error to date.
There was an aura of mystery surrounding Emily Kim, however. Her voice and expression were perpetually serene, which gave the impression that she was wholly at ease with her surroundings. Yet Ana knew the younger woman had never left the homeworld before her transfer. Emily never spoke about her life back on Terra, or made any attempt to exchange more than greetings and simple pleasantries with Ana.
She did, however, make the best coffee Ana had ever tasted.
Ana picked up the steaming server Emily had poured for her and took a greedy sip. “This isn’t my blend, is it?”
“No, ma’am. It’s some Arabica I brought with me from home.” She set the pot back on the tray and set it on a side table. “I’m afraid that your Colombian blend ran out a few days ago.”
“Emily, you shouldn’t raid your personal supplies for me.”
The younger woman shrugged. “I don’t drink it very often, and Carsa told me how much you enjoy a server or two in the mornings.”
“Or three, or nine, depending on the current slate of crises.” She frowned. “When did you speak to Carsa? I thought he was isolated with his family, awaiting a group birth on their homeworld.”
“He is, as far as I know,” Emily said. “Carsa kindly left a recorded message for me before he departed K-2, along with a complete procedure guide as to how to run the office.”
Ana grinned. “So that’s why you’re doing everything so perfectly. Carsa primed you ahead of time.”
The younger woman nodded. “Perfection is always easier when you have a cheat sheet.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Ana indulged in another sip before she placed the server on her desk. “So what have you got developing, situation-wise?”
Emily consulted her datapad. “A Captain Noel Argate contacted Admin to file a complaint against Transport. It seems he sent in a request to have his belongings moved from temporary visitors’ quarters to the URD facility out at Burantee Point. The request was denied.”
“Argate.” The name immediately sounded familiar, but Ana couldn’t recall where or when she had heard it. “Terran?”
“Yes. A League military officer assigned out of Marine Research Division, according to his datawork.”
Teresa is going to love having a complaining male Terran underfoot. Ana sighed. “Did you talk to Transport, see what they had to say about it?”
Emily nodded. “I checked with their processing drone. They claim that Captain Argate’s visa has expired, and they had no choice but to deny the request.”
“We should issue the captain a new visa, then.”
“I was going to suggest that, but the captain only arrived here three days ago. His visa should still be valid.”
“That sounds like an input error.” Ana pulled up the personnel file she had on Noel Argate, the corresponding transport request, and compared the two. “I see what happened here. The captain neglected to fill in his current visa code on his request. He’s still using the old one that expired three cycles ago.” She pulled the new visa that had been issued and copied it onto the disk. “Send this to Captain Argate and ask him to discard the old visa chip. Copy to Transport along with the captain’s request and ask them to reprocess with the newer code.”
Emily accepted the disk and made a few notes. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Ana.” She looked over the rim of her server. “‘Ma’am’ makes me feel five decades older than you.”
A dimple winked in and out of Emily’s cheek. “Yes, m—Ana.”
The near-smile delighted Ana. “I’m actually only three decades older, and I can get away with claiming two if no one hears it while I’m standing in the sunslight.”
“I’ll keep the shades drawn at all times.”
An incoming signal chimed on Ana’s console, and she cut short her laugh to respond. “This is Ana Hansen.”
“Administrator, this is Chief Norash over at security. We have an emergency situation involving an attack on a diplomatic transport en route to K-2. The planetary patrol and Bio Rescue have responded, but your presence would be much appreciated at Flight Control.”
“I’m on my way, Chief.” Ana gulped down the rest of the coffee as she rose, and handed the server to Emily. “This doesn’t sound good, so I’ll need you to hold down the fort here. There will be a thousand signals; take messages or refer them to security if they can’t wait for info. I’ll take direct relays from any planetary leader, quadrant command, or patrol pilots. Norash’s lines will be jammed, so forward them to my wristcom.”
“Should I cancel your appointments for this afternoon?” Emily asked as she followed Ana into the outer office.
“Yes, all of them. I’ll call back personally to reschedule.” Ana came to an abrupt halt before she ran into William Mayer. “Liam, Norash just signaled me. Someone is attacking one of the diplomatic vessels.”
“I know. I signaled him from the FreeClinic when Transport alerted Rescue Three. It’s going to be a mess.” He took Ana’s case. “My glidecar is waiting outside.”
Ana glanced back at Emily. “If you need anything—”
“I’ll handle it until you return.” A buzz of incoming signal alerts made her assistant hurry back to her desk.
On the brief drive to Colonial Security, Liam related the scanty details Transport had relayed about the attack. “Subcommander Onkar took Rescue Three up to provide support, and we can scramble the other two medevac teams if the casualty count is high.” He glanced at her. “This might end the summit before it begins.”
“One crisis at a time, please.” She tried not to feel frustrated, but this rocky start wasn’t promising. “Even if this kills the summit, we still have to get together with the other planetary leaders sometime and decide what is to be done about Ninra.”
The Ninrana were not the only problem Ana had hoped the diplomats at the Peace Summit would address. The Skartesh, who were too sensitive to humidity to permanently adapt to life on K-2, were anxious to establish their own independent colony off-planet.
“I’m backing the proposal for the ’Zangians and Ylydii to supply water and terraforming equipment for Ninra in exchange for mineral rights,” Liam warned her. “I think it’s only logical.”
“I feel the same way about the Skartesh’s idea to colonize one of the habitable moons around Ylyd or K-2,” Ana told him. “The problem is that the aquatics still don’t trust either species.”
“I can’t say I blame them. The Skartesh came here and pretended to join the colony while planning to invade the entire system, while the Ninrana have been eating anyone unfortunate enough to crash-land on their planet.”
“They did give them seven days to be rescued first,” Ana reminded him.
“I had thought living out here would be interesting but relatively peaceful,” Liam said. “Instead it’s been one crisis after another, since the day I stepped foot off the transport from Terra.”
She chuckled. “You know, we should be grateful for them. These are the only times that you and I see each other for longer than five minutes.”
“I’ve got a new pathologist on board, which relieves one of the senior surgical residents who was filling in down in Forensics.” He stopped in front of the security building, where an officer was waiting for them. “That should give me a few more free evenings during the week.”
“You’ll be home in time to say good-bye to me, then,” Ana said. At his blank look, she reminded him, “I’m the colonial representative assigned to monitor the PM sessions. I’ll be spending most nights up in orbit.”
“I’ll see if I can juggle a few shifts with mu Cheft,” Liam said.
Security’s command
center was usually a busy hive of activity, but Ana and Liam walked into what appeared to be controlled chaos. Every terminal was being shared by two or three officers, all of whom were communicating with other entities via their headsets. Satellite vids projected on the immense wall screens showed the battle taking place far above in space, and transmissions from the patrol pilots were being loudly broadcast from an audio panel, adding to the din.
“Dr. Mayer, Administrator Hansen.” One of Norash’s many assistants came over and indicated a situation room off to the side. “The preliminary briefing is already in progress.”
They entered the room to find a three-dim image of Norash addressing the various officials gathered there. Ana saw why the chief had chosen to send a vid as she watched him pace back and forth while speaking.
Jadaira came to join them. “Norash decided to stay in his office and hold the meeting by holoimage,” she told them. “He’s so agitated he was worried he might accidentally step on someone in the room without noticing.”
“So we know that the Ylydii ship was boarded and hijacked,” Norash said. “What we don’t know is who hired them, or why. Comments, questions?”
“The Ninrana have no water on their world,” someone said. “If anyone would want Ylyd, it would be them.”
“That’s not correct,” Dair said at once. “I was there during the Skartesh occupation. The Ninrana have to drill deep, but the planet still has enough water to support life.”
“Planetary engineers estimate they’ll have water for another twenty more years,” Liam added. “After that, the rate of desiccation will be too rapid to sustain life, and the people will have to be relocated.”
“Maybe they don’t want to wait until it dries up,” a small, fearful-looking Tesomra engineer said. “They planned to invade us with the Skartesh, didn’t they? And bring back the Hsktskt. And perhaps release the Core plague again, too.”