Endless Night (The Guild Wars Book 3)

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Endless Night (The Guild Wars Book 3) Page 15

by Tim C. Taylor


  She patted the alien’s head. Poor little guy. “Jenkins, my guess is that you made Hopper very scared indeed, but it wasn’t really you she feared. I think she realized she’d divulged secrets to you that she should have kept hidden.”

  “I concur. Naturally, I don’t say that through guesswork. In the two days since, I have surrounded the area of the station near her quarters with surveillance devices, and I have made use of my infiltration surgery to follow her in person while in disguise. Hopper can’t so much as scratch the gaps between her segments without me knowing about it. Impressive, don’t you agree, ma’am?”

  “You mean you’ve been stalking her? That’s—Jenkins, how could you?”

  * * *

  Jenkins felt his segments curl with anxiety because he felt sure he’d heard anger in the Human’s voice. Major Sun had always been businesslike, almost emotionless. Lately she had begun acting more like her sister, and Captain Blue terrified him. “I don’t understand. I thought you would be impressed with my initiative. Are you angry at me?”

  “You can’t go around stalking females that take your fancy.”

  “But you haven’t seen the luster of her carapace. The curve of her mandible.”

  “Jenkins!” she yelled. “Stop that right now, mister.”

  He had to shake several shapes down his spine to build up the courage to respond; Jenkins had been a secret agent on the Raknar job, working a mission of the utmost danger and importance. Besides, hadn’t Captain Blue herself nicknamed him after a Human hero she admired greatly?

  He raised his antennae to the fearsome Human and clicked quietly, “I didn’t do any harm.”

  “But you did. You invaded her privacy.”

  “Oh, I see the misunderstanding. I did no such thing. Hopper didn’t even know I was there.”

  The Human gave a little growl and closed her eyes. When the major hadn’t opened them for several seconds, Jenkins assumed she had fallen asleep. So, he poked her shin with one of his manipulative limbs.

  His intervention clearly worked because Sun came to life again and spoke. “Why are you telling me your sordid tale, Jenkins?”

  “Because I wasn’t the only one covertly watching her, and, unlike me, I do not think her other observers were benign. For a start, they were a Goka and a Zuul. I hardly think they were admiring the sheen of her segments.”

  The major opened her eyes and looked up at the overhead for some reason. These Humans were bewildering. “Why me?” she sighed.

  “Because the XO is busy in command of the ship, and the CO has been in a meeting with Gloriana for some considerable time.”

  “And I was the third best option.”

  Jenkins lifted his antennae. “I’m so glad you understand, Major.”

  “Okay, let’s talk this through. It sounds to me like the Goka and the Zuul think your Hopper is valuable. Why? What’s so special about her? And don’t mention her carapace’s reflective qualities or the curvature of her body parts.”

  “Her mind is brilliant.”

  “Well, I think your assistant is a genius, but the only praise you give Zarbi is that you think she has performed adequately. I’ve never heard you describe anyone as brilliant…anyone other than yourself, of course. You mentioned she’d revealed equations that were presumably meant to be secret. What was the topic?”

  “She is researching trans-dimensional engineering.” He shook his head in wonder. “Stabilizing n-plane bridges. Dimensional reflation over 3-2-3 dimensional channels. Obviously, that leads to information attenuation, but her objective is to channel energy, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “That means nothing to me. Remember, Jenkins, I’m just a dumb ape with a gun.”

  “Duly noted, ma’am. Trans-dimensional engineering is cutting edge but has been for thousands of years. There must have been a million research projects on the topic, and every single one has failed. And yet, the tantalizing prospect of what should work keeps attracting brilliant minds back to the topic like—”

  “Jenkins! I’m a dumb ape with a big gun and very limited patience. Speed this along.”

  Jenkins took a few moments to compact what he needed to say into concise and simple words. “Our spacecraft pass through gates into what is colloquially known as hyperspace. In reality, it’s an orthogonal dimension to conventional spacetime, and it’s widely assumed that there are other orthogonal dimensions that may function as additional levels of hyperspace. In the modern era, no one admits to fully understanding how the gates work, but clearly matter, energy, and information can travel through hyperspace, and, from the perspective of conventional spacetime, this travel takes place faster than light. It doesn’t, of course. Hyperspace just provides a shortcut.”

  “You mean the laws of physics are never broken, but they are thoroughly cheated.”

  “Exactly. Like I said, no one admits to fully understanding how the gates work today, but clearly their original designers did. If we could reacquire that understanding, we might, for example, create FTL information transfer. Imagine instead of piggybacking data transfers on ships physically transiting between systems, we could beam information anywhere in the galaxy within hours.”

  “Is that what the girl with nice pincers was working on?”

  “No.”

  The Human commenced an aggressive hissing, so Jenkins added rapidly, “Hopper was working on a new idea for a trans-dimensional energy pipe.” He hesitated. That wasn’t strictly accurate. Hopper admitted she hadn’t come up with the idea at all. Her backers had stumbled across the basic concept and hired scientists to develop a theoretical foundation of how it might work. Jenkins decided that such minor details were not important enough for Sun, who struggled to grasp any concept that didn’t involve violence.

  “You mean,” said the Human, “Hopper was working on a stargate for power?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Theoretical, of course, but brilliant. Imagine a tiny throat to a hyperspace bridge placed inside a star. Raw energy would flood out the other end of the bridge.”

  The Human blinked. Now she got it! “You could mine the entire galaxy. Limitless power sourced from the universe’s natural fusion plants. Stars.”

  “Exactly. I must say, Major Sun, you are surprisingly cogent for a dumb ape.”

  “I’m just getting started. If you could open a hyperspace bridge between any two points in the galaxy, you could create a weapon. Connect the local sun to an enemy battleship in a star system you’re defending. Boom!”

  “You Humans…So warlike. Always.”

  “Or how about this? Connect your enemy’s star to a black hole. You would kill it in time, sucked to an abyssal doom. Long before that, you could make it flare with enough instability to wipe out all life in its system. Your girlfriend’s energy pipe could be a star killer.”

  “Major! Only you could sully Hopper’s magnificent concepts with your violent Human thoughts.”

  “Jenkins, if I have these thoughts, so will others.”

  “No, ma’am.” Jenkins shuddered. “Only Humans think this way. Veetanho plan and scheme, careless of those who die. Besquith rend as much as they trade. Oh, I could go on. Violence is not unique to your race, but only a Human could turn a theory of unlimited energy supply into a xenocidal weapon within moments.”

  The Human shrugged. “What can I say, Jenkins? Earth had a violent history pre-contact. It’s who we are. It’s what we’re good at. And the rest of the galaxy had better take note.”

  “They already have, ma’am. Which makes me think that whoever the Zuul and Goka were working for probably also employs Humans. Humans who think like you.”

  Sun mulled over his words. Probably trying to decide whether he’d been praising her race. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she said, and he noticed some of the fire had left her dark eyes. “We’re talking theoretical science in an area of research that has thwarted the best minds of the Union since its formation. I don’t think we have to worry about starkiller weapons in our lifetim
e. But I don’t like the idea of your girlfriend in trouble with these thugs. We’ll look into it, as a team.”

  Jenkins was so relieved that he flopped limply onto the deck. Finally, his companions who enjoyed aggression would take over and rescue this magnificent individual. But…Hopper and her observers needed themselves to be observed. And that would require an individual of exquisite stealth and intelligence. “Will I lead this team, ma’am?”

  “No, I will. Actually…” She sucked in her lips, a disgusting Human habit. “I’ve a better idea. Branco will. You said you have been working on mobility solutions for him, and he has a burning need to have a purpose. We’ll keep your girlfriend out of trouble and have ourselves an adventure in the bargain.”

  Jenkins trembled at her choice of words. He’d had adventures with Major Sun before. While he thanked the Human using his speech organs, he pinlinked a message to Zarbi. “I’m being assigned to a secret mission with a high likelihood of my sudden and violent death. Cease your current activity immediately. We must use this opportunity to review my succession planning while we still can.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Betty came to a halt in a wide intersection and stared at the Zuul she’d been watching with her rear-facing eyes since descending to the underbelly of Vane 3 that was Deck 21.

  “You smell old,” she told him.

  “I prefer to think of it as an aroma of wisdom.”

  “Think about it however you like, old dog. Young. Old. Wise or foolish. You’re flesh and blood and bones to me. Give me a reason why I should listen to you before eating you whole.”

  She turned and faced the Zuul head on.

  Tatterjee would have been proud of her cunning. She wasn’t really interested in a mangy bag of bones like this creature, but her words made the Zuul weak with fear.

  “I heard you were interested in the Riderless Tortantula.”

  “Yes. Yes. Yes!” said Betty’s heart, but her cunning mind forced other words from her mouth. “Perhaps, but only in a previous time. At present, my interest is in acquiring dinner.”

  The Zuul nervously licked its little row of fangs. “I think that if you were really that hungry, I would already be inside you.”

  Betty snapped her jaws at the little creature, but he stood his ground. “You’re as crafty as a Flatar, old dog.”

  “Thank you. I have information. A trail for you to follow to the one you seek.”

  “Is she here on the station?”

  “No. The people who have seen her are, however.”

  “Take me to them. Now.”

  He rubbed his hands together. “Of course. But this information comes from a third party, and they have their price. As do I.”

  “Name it. I have credits.”

  “Keep them, my friend. You will need them on your quest. No, my associates request payment of a different kind. They require a certain someone on the station to be scared away so they do not interfere in matters where they are not wanted. Can you do that?”

  Betty linked her palps together in the Tortantula equivalent of a smile. “No problem. Do I get to eat this certain someone?”

  “No.”

  “No? Entropy-ridden no! Why is the answer always no?”

  The Zuul backed away, his hands warding off the Tortantula. As if he ever could. “My associates have a complicated relationship with the target,” he yapped. “They wish him to remain unharmed, but to stay well clear of Station 5. The target will, however, possess guards and associates. You may eat as many of those as you wish.”

  Under the cover of allowing her neurotoxins to drip from her fangs, Betty thought about loyalty and duty. Would Major Sun think Betty was doing something wrong if she took on this task? The major said Betty needed to find a way to come to terms with eating Tatterjee. For a Human, she was very wise, which meant she would understand. Betty decided that meant the major would approve.

  “It is agreed,” said Betty. She licked her maw and this time it was not cunning concealment but raw hunger. “Who is the target?”

  “He is a Human. Does that concern you?”

  “Not at all. Humans are delicious.” She hesitated. “You mustn’t tell anyone I said that. Does the target associate with other Humans?”

  “He does. There are many of them on his ship. He skippers a freighter named Unlikely Regret. His name is Captain Lenworth Rushby Jenkins.”

  “Jenkins, you say? Why, that is a delicious amusement. I know a little snack of a Jeha who shares the same name.”

  Betty’s palps shook with amusement. Then a thought struck her, and her palps stilled. This might not be a coincidence at all. Someone had once told her the story of how Jenkins had gotten his name. Captain Blue had named him after her former skipper. And she’d done so in the Spine Nebula. On this very station.

  Betty reassessed. Try as she might, she couldn’t make herself believe that the major would approve of her terrifying her former captain and eating her former comrades.

  “Pity.”

  “Why? What’s the prob—?”

  Betty bit off the Zuul’s head. Quickly, she sucked on the bones and lapped up the blood and fur and teeth to conceal the killing.

  There was still blood pooled on the deck. Betty tried wiping her thorax over it but only smeared it around worse. She began to wonder whether having her body coated in blood would look suspicious.

  To distract herself, she thought of the tasty Humans she would have eaten if she’d gone along with the Zuul’s offer. But Major Sun was a good leader who looked after her.

  “Keeping a good commander is more important than enjoying a good meal,” she told herself all the way back to Midnight Sun.

  By the time she’d reached the main docking collar, she almost believed her words.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Thirty

  Total Immersion Suite, Blunt Justice

  Midnight Sun screamed out of the emergence point and immediately lit her plasma torch for a sustained 6G burn. In formation around her Snap, Crackle, and Pop—the three Hellburner ships—were already pushing for the mission target at 7G.

  An endless sea of lethal dots stretched out before them. There were clear paths marked with armed nav-buoys flashing red. Unlit—stealth shielded, in fact—the cleared routes were also ringed with bands of defensive bastions hollowed out from asteroids. Blue’s sensors couldn’t detect them, but she’d run this scenario enough times to know never to go down those channels of death.

  Instead, she nosed her formation down, avoiding the marked channels and directly into the thickest concentration of dots.

  She’d thought they were mines when she’d first played this sim, but they were far worse. Drones. Millions of them. Tens of millions. Armed with lasers, nukes, cyber warfare suites. Some of the pinpricks of light were massive magnetic accelerator cannons when they got up close and personal. Individually, they might not defeat active shields, but if your shields were already weakened, these super MACs could punch through hull armor.

  Which she knew from personal experience.

  The sim suite on Blunt Justice didn’t punish her body in the way real high-G combat would, but the pain of losing was very real.

  Via Midnight Sun, she ordered the three Hellburners to roll out to get a wider spread of fire.

  This wasn’t the only scenario, but it was clear by the way the Goltar techs kept running it that it was of special interest.

  Only this one featured Hellburners, and these lightly armed battlecruisers were very strange. For a start, she couldn’t order them directly. Unlike other scenarios, she couldn’t even give them instructions in advance of pushing through the emergence point. The only way she could communicate with them was via Midnight Sun itself. And given they were capable of sustained 20G burns, they clearly weren’t crewed by people.

  Robo-ships, then.

  Although, there was one completely different explanation for why the Goltar wanted her to run this scenario more than t
he others. She never won. With all the other sims, she’d found a way to beat her opposition, but after 53 attempts, every one was a total team kill.

  Yeah, it was probably some Goltar psycho-bullshit. In order to become truly great, a leader must first learn defeat. That kind of thing.

  Here it comes.

  Snap, Crackle, and Pop hit the drones like a piledriver hitting pack ice.

  The small enemy craft stung with their lasers. They bit with cannons, hurled missiles, and scratched at the Hellburners’ minds with EMP claws.

  The Hellburners were only light battlecruisers, but they were sturdy machines of war. Shields brushed aside the laser volleys, defensive fire disabled the missiles, cannon fire rattled off armor, and they appeared deaf to EMP and cyber-attacks. Defensive laser arrays lashed out from cupolas that covered the Hellburner hulls like a bad case of warts. Their fire was uncannily accurate and could switch targets within microseconds. Instead of wasting the fusion power that fueled the lasers by destroying the drones, they were knocked out with cold efficiency. Laser emitter lenses were scored, barrel tips melted, and sensors melted, rendering the drones ineffective.

  The Hellburner vanguard sent shockwaves through the drone pack as they attacked, still accelerating hard for their target, the gravity well of Planet-3. The mission success criteria said at least one Hellburner must reach the lower atmosphere of the planet to earn the name Blue had given then. Like the 17th century Hellburners of Earth’s seas and ports, they were mobile bombs, packed with incredible explosive power.

  Amazing though they were, even Snap, Crackle, and Pop couldn’t fend off such overwhelming drone numbers. That’s where Midnight Sun came in, following behind, playing the sweeper.

  Drones washed around the Hellburners, turning their attacks on their lightly defended rears.

 

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