by Paul Grover
“Shannon…” Mira said. “I didn’t mention you going with Vic because I was hoping you would consider slumming it with us. You fit in and you pick up stuff quickly.”
“If you can use a washed up JetSuit pilot, then I would be honoured. I struggled to work out who I was when I retired and I think I found my place with you and Tish.”
“Misfits against the universe!” Tish said, entering the crew lounge.
“What did you make of the Emerald?” Mira asked.
Tish shrugged. “Advanced but half arsed. The weapons are too powerful, sub lights are underpowered. She has a good FTL drive and the stealth tech is okay. The galley had a decent coffee machine, so I disconnected it and installed it in ours.” Tish took a seat and rested her feet on a table.
“You’re not joking, are you?” Mira asked.
“Nope, we have quality espresso all the way to the Vale.”
Mira stood and headed to medbay to check on Rybov. As she left, she heard Tish and Shannon laughing. She had a crew. She had brought them together.
Mira wished Ethan Tate were here. She missed the kid. When she returned to Mizarma, she would be sure to look him up.
Tish was sitting in the copilot’s chair when Mira arrived on the flight deck. She didn’t respond when Mira entered, focusing instead on her consoles.
Mira slipped into the pilot’s chair. The seat lowered and moved, allowing her to reach the foot controls and comfortably manage the yoke. It seemed to be in motion forever, underlining the size difference between her and Hofner.
The crew had settled into their respective berths. They had all chosen equivalents to their original Kobo.
They worked through the checklist, preparing to separate from the Revenge and begin their own jump.
“I’m monitoring transmissions from Baikonur,” Tish said. “They have contained the damage caused by the Torrence. Shipping movements are returning to normal. They’re running at 94 percent capacity. The announcement said they will be fully operational in five days. No sign of any infection.”
The resilience humans displayed in space never ceased to amaze and impress Mira. 24 hours ago the station had experienced a major incident and was now operating close to full efficiency.
Movement behind her distracted her before she could reply. Alex, Monica and Rich Barnes, joined them on the deck. It was pleasantly crowded and she realised she was smiling before she could conceal it.
“Vic’s all set,” Alex said. “That kid is funny. She reminds me of Thorny, only taller and less sweary.”
The comms system fired into life.
“Hey, Second Chance, we’re waiting for you to disengage. Me, Kiddo and these politicos have places to be.”
Mira tapped in a command sequence to retract the docking corridor.
“Clear skies, Vic Rybov. Stay out of trouble.”
“You too, Space Cadet. Don’t do anything dumb.”
“I won’t."
“I don’t believe you, so stay safe while you do it.”
Mira’s display showed a clear separation and she retarded her throttles, reducing her relative velocity to the Revenge. The black Aurora moved ahead of them, silhouetted against the yellow backdrop of the gas giant. It shrunk until all Mira could see was the blue glow of its ion engines. The ship went FTL and vanished from their scanners.
“I’ll miss them,” Tish said.
“Before he left,” Monica said. “Vic asked me about surgeons on Mizarma.”
“For his wound?” Mira asked.
“No, he wants to get his face fixed. I thought he was looking for a disguise but apparently he met someone on Corso. He’s rather sweet.”
Mira knew Vic Rybov had a violent past but the old merc seemed to be on a quest for redemption.
“He’s doing it for Eden,” Tish said. “Like I’m trying to live a better life for Zoe. We honour the ones we owe our lives to by being better people.”
Mira closed her eyes.
Like Reece. She thought of his face full of excitement at the prospect of leaving the Orbiter. All of his hopes and all of his dreams crushed by a monster in a uniform.
She sat silently and prepared the ship for FTL.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DAVID Conway awoke to the sound of birdsong. Bright sunlight played over his face. He blinked twice and sat upright, casting the synth-silk sheet to one side.
He was spending the weekend at Skyreach House, a retreat built into a Scottish hillside. It was far from the eyes of the press and offered an opportunity to rest and think in the aftermath of his promotion.
He stood and pulled on his robe. He used the coffee machine to brew a long coffee and walked to the floor to ceiling window overlooking Loch Ness. The black water rippled beneath a blue sky filled with cotton candy clouds. The sunlight was warm through the glass. The enviro system displayed an outside temperature of 6 Celsius in blue digits. The driving rain and hail of the previous evening was as distant as his fleeting dreams.
He did not turn when he heard the familiar footsteps behind him, nor did he look when he felt the presence at his shoulder.
“A pleasant morning,” Legion said eventually.
“Yes, rare at this time of the year,” he replied, sipping his coffee, reluctant to take his eyes from the view.
“My family come from a village close to here,” Conway said. “I always knew, but never visited. It’s funny, for all the light-years I have travelled, I have never been home.”
He saw Legion nod from the corner of his eye.
“Where are you from Mr Legion… originally?”
Legion paused before answering. “I am from many places, but this form… this man is from Hythe.”
“I don’t know it.”
“Why would you? It is on the South Coast of England if that helps.”
Conway turned startled. Legion’s voice changed, it lost its hybrid accent and took on a subtle English intonation. His appearance became more human. His skin seemed to thicken, becoming less transparent and papery. He appeared younger. Maybe his memories had given rise to the transformation, Conway could not tell.
“There is a problem, David. My plans have not played out as intended. I am afraid Richter’s data will soon be in the hands of our enemies. I have failed you and I am deeply sorry.”
Conway let the information sink in. This was a problem and Conway was a problem solver. His PR background told him people did not need to be told the truth, they needed to be told what the truth was. GNN was good at the latter. He could deal with this. He did not need Legion’s help.
Conway finished his coffee. His stomach growled. “Have you eaten, Mr Legion?”
Legion gave him a curious look.
“Would you care to join me for breakfast? I have no idea if you eat but it is a more civilised way to conduct our business.”
“I think it would be most pleasant,” Legion replied.
Conway walked to the bedside comm unit and informed his staff that a business associate had paid an early visit and to set the table for two.
“Come, I’ll show you to the dining room.”
He led Legion down the open staircase and through a wide corridor to a room level with the loch. A teak deck outside gave the illusion of being on a boat floating on the black water.
They spoke of trivial matters while a dark suited attendant brought trays of scrambled eggs, bacon and kippers to the table. Finally a jug of orange juice and hot toast arrived.
“Do you require anything else, Mr President?” the steward asked.
“No, thank you, Stephen.”
The man turned to Legion. “Sir?”
“No,” he replied. “I do not believe I have eaten this well in five hundred years.”
Stephen excused himself.
Conway watched the old man. He ate slowly at first, savouring the meal before ploughing in with the enthusiasm of a starving man.
I’m in control… Conway thought. Somehow I have an advantage…
It appeared to Conway th
at Legion’s admission of failure had somehow altered their relationship. The mystery and superiority that had surrounded this entity had been removed. It was as if Conway had seen behind the curtain; the myth was exposed. The god was just a man.
“So, Mr Legion, how soon will our enemies be in possession of the Mars data?”
“I fear they already have it. An unfortunate chain of events have led us to this position.” He paused to pour tea into delicate china cup. “Karl apprehended Thorn and was using her as bait. The Torrence incident on Baikonur gave her a window for escape. She saved a man called Victor Rybov from Manson. I suspect Rybov has given the information to Vanessa Meyer.”
“I see.”
“What of Thorn?”
“I have her in hand,” Legion replied. “She is heading to the Vale. I have a purpose for her. I doubt she will survive. If she does she will be a broken woman and little use to the Alliance.”
Conway crunched on toast and stared at the water.
“You know, they say there is a monster living in the loch,” Conway said. “There have been many attempts to find it, all unsuccessful. Mystique and uncertainty give the monster its power.” He paused. “We know the nature of the threat facing us. If I launch an operation against the Alliance now, we will reveal our strength. Flynt will meet my forces from a prepared position; he could win.”
“I concur David. We cannot assist you; we have other commitments.”
Conway poured coffee into a crisp white cup.
“So we wait. We let them make their move. Whatever narrative the Alliance spins; we will counter it. They will always be second guessing our next move. We are the monster and they cannot be certain of where or when we will strike.”
Conway watched a flock of birds skim over the surface of the water.
“Flynt has not moved his ships out of the system. He is contained. If we continue to harass merchant shipping on the Frontier, we will disrupt their trade. The Alliance will crack under the pressure.”
Legion sipped his tea. He held the cup delicately in thin fingers.
“I would like to ask you a question David. You can answer as honestly as you like; I ask for my interest, not for my associates. I ask as a friend.”
Conway raised an eyebrow.
“What is it you want, David?” Legion asked. “You covet our technology and you have committed crimes against your own people; I assumed you were motivated by a desire for wealth and power. The more I have learned about you the less I am sure.”
Conway paused in thought.
“Both are tools my friend. They are motivators for those in my service. Fortune and power are not my goal.” He dabbed his mouth with a napkin before continuing.
“I know the body you use when you visit me is not your native form. You must feel its limitations,” Conway said. “I have seen your technology, Mr Legion. I have seen what you have achieved. Humanity can be more than it is now. We have moved into a post evolutionary stage where random mutations no longer advance us. We have had limited success with genetic modification yet we are but fleas on an elephant compared to your accomplishments.”
Legion sipped his tea, regarding Conway with the schoolmaster look he detested.
“David, what you covet comes with a great price. It is easy to lose sight of one's purpose.”
Conway understood; all things came with a price.
“I see a future in which humanity will shed the limits of this form. A future in which we can adapt ourselves to new environments and purposes. We can have workers capable of extended work shifts in high gravity. Humans with increased lung capacity to work better in a vacuum; we could grow skins capable of withstanding radiation. We will adapt ourselves to life in the universe and bend the universe to our will.”
Legion gave a brief smile. “I believe you can do it, David, but beware of those already in the void. You do not want your benefactors to see you as a threat.”
“It is why I am working with you, assisting you with your aims. Together we can forge something new, something that will stand for millennia,” Conway replied.
Legion placed his cup on the table and stood.
“Thank you for your honesty David. We believe we have found the right partner in you. You have taken this setback well; we are impressed with your restraint and tactical thinking. I would also like to thank you for a most pleasant morning.” He paused. “I had forgotten what it felt like to be…” His voice trailed off. He gave a taut smile and walked past Conway. His footsteps abruptly ceased.
Conway sat in silence. He opened his datapad and checked his messages and updates. All appeared quiet in the Federation.
He opened a comm-channel.
“Bethany, I want you to find Max Von Hagen and Anders Richter. I want them on Luna for when I return.”
“Yes, Mr President.”
He closed the link.
Stephen hovered by the door.
“Do you require me to clear away, sir?”
Conway stood.
“Yes, Stephen.”
“And the Gentleman…is he…”
“He has left.”
Stephen stepped forward.
“I did not see him…”
Conway fixed the young man with an icy stare, stopping him mid sentence.
“I will stay one more night, Stephen. Make my travel arrangements to Luna for tomorrow, first light.”
The young man agreed and Conway brushed past him, making for his bedroom. He had plans to make.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SECOND Chance dropped out of FTL on the edge of an uncharted system deep in the Cygnus Vale.
Mira stood on the dark flight deck behind Alex and Tish; she sensed someone approach from behind.
“Hey,” Rich Barnes said.
“Rich, how is the ankle?” Mira asked.
“Healing well. I pride myself on being a bad ass but having it fused was the worst pain I’ve ever experienced.” He shrugged. “Maybe the second worst. The first was the telling off for trusting the expert system in medbay to fix it.”
“Are you fit to fight?” she asked.
“Fit enough. I had a week to heal,” he confirmed. “So that’s the Vale proper?”
“Yep, we’re breaking the Vega Treaty by some margin,” Mira replied.
“It’s a disappointment,” he said.
“What did you expect, Gunny? A gift shop?” Alex asked.
“Yeah, I wanted one of those ‘I’m with stupid’ shirts for when I’m out with you Mr Kite.”
Tish interrupted them, raising her hand without taking her eyes off the NaviComp’s display.
“This is the Torrence’s jump point; obviously it’s not the location of the Mothernode.” She tapped commands into the system. “The data was corrupted on the core but the nav system records star positions as a backup. I know how far she travelled, so it’s just a matter of joining everything up.”
“How long Tish?” Mira asked.
“Give me two minutes.”
Tish bowed her head and tapped commands into her touchscreen.
“Mira,” Barnes whispered. “Monica wants to check you over before we get into any kind of action. She sent me up to make sure you complied.”
“It’s unnecessary… but okay. Let’s get this done and I’ll head down.”
Tish’s fingers were a blur on her console. She guided the ship’s navigation system through a series of steps to cross reference star positions to sensor traces. She worked at an inhuman speed. Her pace was more incredible given she was working from corrupt data.
Tish paused, reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. She checked it to the screen.
“I have it,” she whispered.
Tish sighed and laughed simultaneously as the mental exhaustion took its toll.
“That was tough. I can work up a jump solution. It’s 12 hours from here.”
“Well done, Tish. I’ll leave you to it while Monica pokes and prods me. Jump when you are ready,
Alex.”
Alex gave her a salute.
Mira brushed Tish’s cheek before she left, catching a smile out of the corner of her eye as she turned.
“You know,” Barnes ventured. “I don’t think I have ever seen you as happy as you are with her.”
Mira cheeks burned.
“It makes me scared, Rich.”
“Mira, you are odd.”
She shrugged. He was right, but she was still scared.
“What if something happens? I don’t want her to suffer like I did over… you know.”
“So we make sure nothing happens to you!” He put a protective arm around her. “Or her.”
Mira leant into him. Rich Barnes was right and despite his limp he was almost his old self.
The FTL run took just under the predicted 12 hours. Mira worked through the pre drop checklist with Tish as they prepared to collapse the envelope. Alex returned to the deck after catching a few hours of rack time. He took a seat at the engineering console and strapped in.
“Can you feel that, Mira?” Tish asked.
There was low frequency vibration coursing through the ship. It thrummed through the seat and the control yoke.
“Yeah, it feels like our envelope is under attack.” Mira checked the displays, trying to glean as much information as she could. “I don’t think it’s serious. It’s definitely external ion bombardment.”
“It’s general and not targeted at us. It is more like a wave passing through the surrounding space,” Tish replied without taking her gaze from the screens.
Mira concurred. The ship was stable and the disruption more an annoyance than a threat. The envelope was a bubble of hyperspace in which the Second Chance resided. The bubble passed along a pan-dimensional pathway which allowed it to travel at supra-light-speeds; the exterior of the bubble still moved through “normal” space, making it vulnerable to emissions and environmental factors. Sometimes external phenomena could be experienced by the crew. In the worst-case scenario the vessel could be damaged by such forces; although occurrences were rare.
Tish counted down and Mira collapsed the envelope. Energy clouds dissipated, revealing the cold, empty void.
