Wings of Redemption (The Terra Nova Chronicles Book 3)

by Richard Fox

  “Yes,” Marie replied, drawing out the word.

  “All we need are the platforms to launch the ants from,” Hale continued, not really hearing his wife. His mind raced, working through the myriad of possibilities. “Remember when they first attacked the Spirit? We can use their own technique against them.”

  He reached forward and grabbed Marie’s head with both hands, pulling her close and kissing her on the mouth. “You’re a genius.”

  Marie put her hands over his and looked into his eyes. “Well, that’s true.”

  Chapter 16

  A painful throbbing between her temples greeted Carson as she regained consciousness. Her body rocked back and forth, giving her the sense that she was floating in a sea of blackness. Sounds gradually came to her—a consistent thrumming, muffled conversation—but that awful throbbing drowned everything else out. She reached up to massage her temples, trying to work the pain away as she tried to sit up, immediately regretting it as the pounding increased.

  She felt a hand touch her arm and Jerry Hale’s disembodied voice said, “Hey, Doc, she’s waking up.”

  She opened one eye and Moretti came into view, kneeling beside her, his medi-gauntlet glowing gently over her. She opened her mouth to speak but only managed a weak groan.

  “Easy there, Chief.” He checked the readouts. “Meds should start kicking in soon. We gotta stop meeting this way, Chief.”

  Carson grunted.

  “Your helmet protected you from any permanent damage, but it’s pretty much useless now.” Moretti held up the damaged helmet, showing her the crack across the visor.

  West appeared over Moretti’s shoulder. “You should really try and take better care of your equipment, Chief.”

  Despite the pain, Carson smiled. “Sure thing, Sarge.” An image of the caldryl chewing through the shuttle’s hull flashed in her mind. “The caldryl?”

  “Taken care of,” West said matter-of-factly, though he didn’t elaborate. “We’re about ten minutes out from the capital.”

  Carson groaned again, shifting her position on the bench as her team gathered around her. “Where’s Jena?”

  Birch stepped aside, revealing the Zeis woman lying on the opposite bench, eyes closed. Bloodstained rags littered the floor of the shuttle beneath her. Her shirt had been ripped, revealing her bronze skin covered in dried blood.

  Carson propped herself up on an elbow. “Is she…”

  “She’s alive,” Moretti told her. “But she’s going to need surgery. Took a round in the abdomen and one in the shoulder. Shoulder’s clean, through and through, but the abdomen…well, I don’t know enough about Zeis physiology to know for sure.”

  “We can’t let her…”

  “I know,” Moretti said.

  The nausea faded as the painkillers did their work and Carson pushed herself up, swinging her legs off the bench and sitting up. “Have we been able to reach Greer?”

  West shook his head. “Not yet. Benit has managed to get word to some of their people. News of our arrival has apparently spread like wildfire. We’re en route to one of their secure compounds within the city.”

  Carson’s chest tightened with anxiety. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “I don’t see that we have any other choices,” West said.

  Jena groaned, lifting a hand.

  “’Scuse me, Chief,” Moretti said, moving to the Zeis woman’s side. He ran the gauntlet over her, shaking his head. “Computer’s still having some difficulty mapping everything out. Shouldn’t be an issue if I can get some software patches from her people.”

  Jena coughed, trying to sit. “Where…”

  Moretti put a hand on her shoulder. “What is it with you two? Just lie still for now. We’ll be touching down in a few minutes.”

  “Benit?” Jena asked.

  “He’s flying the shuttle,” West said, putting a hand on the ceiling as the craft banked. “And I have a feeling that flying isn’t one of his primary vocations.”

  “I didn’t know he even knew how to fly,” Jena said.

  “Oh, that’s reassuring,” Nunez said.

  Jena grimaced, pressing a hand against her stomach, prodding the bandages there.

  “You took a couple hits during the fight,” Moretti explained. “I’ve stabilized you the best I can, but we need to get you to a Zeis doc—” Jena sat up, groaning. “Whoa, easy!” Moretti exclaimed.

  “Did we—” A coughing fit interrupted her.

  “The enemy was neutralized,” West said.

  Carson shuddered as the image of the caldryl’s teeth slicing through the hull inches behind her came back unbidden. She clenched her jaw, shaking her head, trying to focus despite the pounding in her head. “Do you have any idea why we can’t raise the Valiant?”

  It took a moment for Jena to stop coughing. She grimaced again and looked over the faces of Carson’s team, lingering on Jerry and Popov, who hadn’t quite managed to clear all the ghost-fang blood from their armor.

  “My guess is they’ve probably isolated the compound and the spaceport,” Jena said. “If they were able to convince senior leadership that a quarantine was needed because of your arrival, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch.” She shook her head. “Which means this is more than a simple reactionary move by Kalene. If they’re moving against the family, they must have a lot of support in the Conclave.”

  “What does that mean for us?” Carson asked. “What about our people?”

  “Normally, I would say they’d be fine. Quarantines aren’t that uncommon, but now…” Jena trailed off, her eyes unfocused, her body rocking with the motion of the shuttle. She turned and peered out through the viewport behind her. “Astra City? You took us to the capital?”

  West nodded. “That’s right. Benit managed to get a message to—”

  Jena grabbed hold of Moretti’s arm and, groaning, pulled herself to her feet. “I need to talk to him.”

  Moretti moved to get a hand around her good arm. “Shit! Easy. You’re not in any condition to be moving around. You need to stay put.”

  Jena ignored him, shaking her head as she slowly moved around him. “No.”

  Moretti shot Carson a worried look. Carson shook her head, standing. “Stay with her.”

  The shuttle spun around her and her stomach turned. She put a hand against the ceiling, steadying her against the shuttle’s movement, and swallowed hard. Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up.

  “For shit’s sake,” Moretti said, frustrated. “West, can you help me out here?”

  West put a hand on Carson’s arm. “Chief, you probably—”

  “Not now, Sergeant.” Carson squared her jaw and moved to follow the Zeis woman.

  Sighing, West reluctantly stepped out of the way, allowing Carson to pass. Jena bumped against the bulkhead as she reached for the hatch, gasping in pain. Moretti flinched, ready to catch her if she fell, but otherwise staying hands-off. She pulled open the hatch then leaned against the frame.

  The view through the shuttle’s domed canopy was amazing. Stars painted on the obsidian sky shone brightly, despite the glow of the city below. Astra City stretched out for kilometers, spread across hills and steep cliffs. Tall spires of rock rose from the city in multiple locations, each with several large villas cut into their faces, like stone skyscrapers. Taller, modern buildings were grouped together every so often, dwarfing the smaller, older parts of the city. Light reflected off hundreds of hypertubes that snaked through the city in seemingly endless loops and turns.

  Benit glanced back nervously, his hands never leaving the controls as his eyes widened at the sight of the two females. “What is it? What’s going on?”

  Jena coughed. “Obison?”

  Benit’s initial shock at seeing the Zeis woman faded quickly. “They are waiting for us at his compound. I’ve already informed him of the attack and our suspicions. The Crown has cut off all communication with our people and labeled the humans as our foe. Kalene has…” He tr
ailed off, as if not wanting to say.

  “What?” Jena asked. “What did she do?”

  “She’s accused you of being a traitor,” Benit said. “Obison said she presented to the Conclave this afternoon, declaring you and the entire Cassiel family as conspiring to bring down the Crown with the help of them.” He nodded to Carson.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Carson said.

  Jena coughed again. “And the other families?”

  “According to Obison, our allies remain. However, most will not speak publicly in our favor without your father’s presence.”

  “I don’t blame them. Any word from Father?”

  Benit shook his head. “No.”

  “Then we’ll have to do this without him.”

  ****

  Rings of blue energy rippled away from the shuttle as they passed through a force field covering a wide platform near the top of one of the rock spires in the middle of Astra City. The edge of the platform was lined with thin, spear-shaped trees in beds of brown mulch and potted flowers, all immaculately landscaped.

  “Please,” Jena said as the shuttle settled. “Obison is my father’s oldest friend, but he’s a little…”

  Carson caught the Zeis woman’s expression and said, “Different?”

  Jena pursed her lips. “Well, different isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

  Carson couldn’t help but grin. “Intriguing.”

  A mechanic clank echoed around them as the shuttle’s ramp began to open, revealing the brightly lit platform below.

  Jena started down then paused, looking back over her shoulder. “Just let me do the talking.”

  A Zeis male stepped forward before they’d even reached the bottom of the ramp, arms stretched wide, a broad smile on his face. His bronze skin was several shades darker than Jena’s and his long white hair was tied into twin braids that fell over his shoulders. “Jena!”

  His orange and purple robes flowed around him as he came forward to greet them, the high collar extended up behind his head rocking back and forth with each step. He’d pierced his pronounced cheeks with rings that were connected by thin lines of gold and silver chains to his ears and boney ridges above them. Three jeweled starbursts hovered over a golden crown that wrapped around the Zeis’s head, bouncing back and forth, lagging slightly behind the man’s movements.

  “Obison,” Jena said, holding her good arm out to the side.

  Jeweled hands appeared from the folds of his robes, jingling as he pulled Jena close. Jena groaned, sagging slightly as Obison hugged her, and his expression turned from wild excitement to concern. “Jena, my girl, are you well?”

  “I’m fine,” Jena told him, her voice weak.

  Moretti moved to help her, but Carson put a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Wait.”

  Jena coughed and put her good hand on the man’s shoulder, grimacing as she looked into his eyes. “Though I’ve had better days.”

  Obison’s eyes narrowed, his face darkening as he stepped back. “They’ll pay for this, Jena. I swear. The Crown has gone too far this time!” He shook a jeweled finger at the night sky. “No longer will House Caltran stand for this kind of willful disregard for the laws of the Conclave. Crown or no! It’s an outrage! But what’s this? It is true!”

  The Zeis stepped around Jena, eyeing Carson and her team with obvious amazement. He held his arms out again as a wide smile spread across his face. “The wonders of Balai!” He moved around West, who held his helmet in the crook of one arm, examining the Pathfinder’s exposed face and head. “The eyes…so extraordinary. So…different.”

  West tilted his head forward, touching fingertips to his brow. “Jason West.”

  “Ahhhh,” Obison said, his eyes widening. He bowed, mirroring West’s gesture of Zeis greeting, then straightened and touched the Pathfinder’s forehead, smiling. “An honor. I have heard tales of your bravery and conquests at the doorsteps of the Regulos, most impressive indeed. So fortunate their translation protocols were able to dissect your linguistics so comprehensively.”

  West raised an eyebrow. “Indeed.”

  Obison’s eyes fell on Jerry and Popov and he stepped back, obviously taken aback at their condition. “By Balai!”

  Popov and Jerry looked at themselves then at each other before turning back to the Zeis. Popov shrugged. “Some of us are in better shape than others.”

  Obison waved an excited hand between them. “Forgive me! Forgive me, please, my manners have fled from me. We must get you all inside. The Clerics have been in quite a frenzy today.”

  “The—” Jena burst into another coughing fit.

  Carson stepped up next to her, putting a hand on her back. “You OK?”

  “Fine,” Jena wheezed.

  “We must get you to the medical staff.” Obison clapped once and his aides appeared, pushing a floating bed.

  “No,” Jena said, putting out a hand. “I’m fine. I don’t need it.”

  “Please, come, come,” Obison said. “There is no shame in it, Jena. Please.”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Jena said. “We must address the Conclave.”

  “Jena, please.” Obison took her by the shoulders. “The Conclave isn’t yet assembled. You need rest. You’re in no shape to address them now regardless. Come, let my staff treat your injuries.”

  Jena hesitated, fixing the older Zeis with a determined stare, then finally gave in with a sigh. She nodded and allowed the aides to help her onto the bed. “Have you heard any word from Father?”

  Obison shook his head, his jewelry clinking. “Sadly, no. I had expected him to return when the news of Diasore reached him. And now the Conclave has quarantined your lands…”

  “It won’t hold for long,” Jena said, rocking slightly on the bed as the aides maneuvered it through a set of double doors into an expansive domed room.

  Carson led the team after the Zeis, taking in the space. Life-sized statues of Zeis, both male and female in various forms of undress, encircled the room in small alcoves spaced equidistantly around the room. At the peak of each alcove, a row of square stones arched up, coming together in the center of the ceiling. Several overstuffed couches, chairs, and pillows filled the room in seemingly random positions.

  “Welcome to my home,” Obison said.

  “Different, eh?” Nunez muttered. “What is this, Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous?”

  “What’s that?” Jerry asked.

  Nunez pulled up short, holding both arms out. “Are you kidding me?”

  Jerry shook his head. “No idea.”

  “It’s only the best show from the 2D era TV! Xaros wrecked a lot of shit, but some lucky bastard found the reruns on some old servers on one of the ships that survived the war. Watched every episode. That Robin Leach is a crazy S.O.B.”

  “Come on,” Carson said.

  “You will take care of my guests,” Jena said, more a statement than a question.

  Obison bowed. “I have set aside my most humble rooms for your friends, Cleric. Do not be troubled. We have space and food and drink for all. More than enough. Nothing but the best, nothing. Please, enjoy my comforts here, my honor.”

  Jerry pushed on the back of one of the couches. “Wow, that’s nice.” He grinned at Popov, who rolled her eyes.

  “We need to keep trying to reach Greer,” Carson told West, glancing around the expansive chamber.

  “Ah, your people at the spaceport?” Obison asked, smiling.

  Carson raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s right.”

  “Not to worry, we have been in contact with Charing. Your people and your ship are safe and intact.”

  “You can contact them?” Carson asked.

  “Of course. The Conclave likes to think they have Yalara firmly under their control, but like the Clerics, we, too, have our ways.” He nodded in Jena’s direction. The two aides pushed her through a doorway, disappearing down a long hall. “Not to worry…uh…” He canted his head to one side. “Oh, my cursed manners again�
��”

  “Kit Carson.” She touched her fingers to her forehead, bowing slightly.

  Obison smiled, repeating his greeting. “Ah, yes. An honor. Please, be well and find comfort here. My staff is most skilled, I assure you. Enjoy my offerings, please.”

  Carson felt a tightness building in her chest. She didn’t want to enjoy his offerings. She wanted to get to the Conclave and present her case. She wanted to continue with their mission—they’d wasted too much time already. She took a long, calming breath before she spoke. “Thank you, Obison. You’re very kind. Of course we will.”

  West appeared next to Carson. “Do you still have the ability to contact your people at the spaceport?” he asked Obison.

  “Yes.”

  “I’d like to see if we can contact our people directly.”

  Obison nodded. “Of course, of course. Please, come. My servant will show you.”

  Carson nodded at West and he followed a short, slender Zeis woman, dressed in thin orange robes, through a set of double glass doors.

  “You know, as layovers go, this isn’t bad,” Nunez said, plopping down on one of the couches and draping his gauss carbine over his lap.

  Jerry sat on one of the ottoman pillows across from a knee-high firepit, bouncing slightly. “Very nice.”

  Carson’s first instinct was to ignore the weariness creeping into her bones, but her body needed rest. She found herself fighting her eyelids as she moved around the chamber, taking it in. It beats sleeping in the woods, she thought. Not to mention being eaten alive.

  “I’ll take first watch,” Birch said, pulling out his remaining drones and arranging them on a small rectangular table at the edge of the room. “I have some work to do anyway.”

  Moretti popped his helmet off and pulled his carbine from its magnetic clamps on his back. He sat in one of the oversized chairs and propped his feet on a pillow, throwing the weapon over his chest and setting his helmet on his legs. “Yeah, I could get used to this.”

  As her team got comfortable, Carson’s urge to sit overwhelmed the drive to press on, and she found a couch of her own. Her weapon and useless helmet on the floor next to her, she stretched out across the length of the couch. It is nice, she thought, then slipped into unconsciousness.