“She doesn’t relate to humans the way you do. You’ve grown up a human, not a Terran or a Gomar.”
Kalian could see it now; there would be no changing her mind. His head agreed with her but his heart wanted to ignore her. There was another moment of awkward silence between them.
“So you don’t love me?” He wanted to take control of his tear ducts but for a second he forgot how. He knew his eyes were glistening and he just managed to stop any tears from breaking free.
“No...” Li’ara met his eyes as she said it.
Before Kalian could reply, Roland appeared in the doorway, his Callic-diamond vest shining under the light, its golden surface smeared with soot and ash. Kalian had never noticed the tattoos on both the bounty hunter’s arms before. The one on his right deltoid was neon-green and glowed in the dark, thanks to the neolight ink that had been common on Earth. It was no doubt a throwback to his days in the UDC before he became an agent for Parliament.
“Esabelle’s awake.” With that, Roland disappeared down the winding ramp that led to the cargo hold. Kalian quickly followed him without meeting Li’ara’s eyes. With her answer, he was only too happy to have an excuse to abandon the subject and move on.
Esabelle was stretching when they reached the hold, her body contorting into positions most gymnasts would struggle to achieve. Roland’s gaze was definitely captured by the Terran as she rested her fingers on her toes.
“Damn that suit is tight.” Roland’s attention to detail never failed to amaze Kalian.
“How are you feeling?” Kalian asked.
“Like my body was stretched across the cosmos... and then dumped in this heap.”
The grimy cargo hold was cast in stark shadows by overhead spotlights illuminating dozens of mysterious cases, each in various states of disrepair. Many of the crates were unmarked with very few labels stamped across the side. Roland and Ch’len had obviously spent some time as smugglers in between their bounties.
To finish off, Esabelle arched her back creating a series of bone popping cracks.
ALF’s image was projected into the space a few metres away between her and Kalian, his long robes gathered behind him as he clasped his hands in the small of his back. “That was an impressive display. I wasn’t sure it could be done without the Gommarian.”
Kalian wasn’t sure what to make of the relationship between Esabelle and ALF. They had never technically met during the Terran war, and yet both of them had critical impacts on the other. With Esabelle powering the Gommarian, the Terran had suffered blow after blow until they were finally beaten. ALF, on the other hand, had been instrumental in the catastrophic events, which ultimately led to Esabelle’s imprisonment.
Despite these circumstances, neither of them had ever met during the war and Esabelle’s forced imprisonment had to be taken into account. Time would tell whether they blamed each other for their previous roles.
“You mean you didn’t know it could be done by the offspring of a Gomar?” There was an accusation behind her words.
ALF dipped his head in apology, but Kalian knew the AI wasn’t sorry for his past decisions, only the knock-on effect it had on her. Being the embodiment of logic, ALF would know that it wasn’t he who placed Esabelle inside the Gommarian, but Savrick. Therefore the blame lay with her father’s decisions, not his.
“I always knew that the Gomar could overcome their limitations, just not within their lifespan. I calculated that within another five millennia from your birth, the defects in the Terran genome that created the Gomar would die out. In the meantime, the empire simply didn’t have the resources to place every living Gomar into a virtual world with enough power to keep them alive for so long. You yourself required over two hundred thousand years to master your own mind.”
“I don’t care.” Esabelle raised her hand to put a stop to ALF’s excuses. “You made choices that cost billions of lives, and you can blame the cubes for manipulating events all you like, but there’s some connection between you and them. There has to be. The same language you invent just happens to be engraved on the side of two cubes. I didn’t push the issue with Uthor because we need to build trust with the Conclave, but you cannot be trusted, I know that much. An artificial intelligence with an immeasurable IQ does not say things like, ‘I don’t know’.
“I may not have actually lived in the Terran Empire, but I learned enough to know that you were a god. You oversaw every detail of their lives, and I’m willing to bet you know more about their civilisation before your creation than you let on. There’s no way you don’t have an idea about where the cubes came from. I wouldn’t be surprised if you made them, a failed experiment or weapon, perhaps?”
“I didn’t make them,” he replied coolly. “Though, I can see how you might draw that conclusion, what with their external shell being made from nanocelium. And yes, I do have detailed records of life before my creation; it was violent and bloody, with a species devouring itself because of greed and selfishness. I didn’t share it with the Terran because I didn’t want them to dwell on war and weapons of mass destruction. Before your father, the Terran were on track.”
“On track for what?” Kalian asked.
“For perfection. What you are now is magnificent, but you can accomplish so much more. Esabelle is proof of that.” Despite her harsh words, ALF regarded Esabelle with admiration. “To all of you, it would appear that Esabelle transported us through subspace, like any ship. But in reality, the ship never moved. Rather, the universe moved around us...”
Kalian looked intently at Esabelle for a moment. Was that possible? Could a Terran actually move the universe? It made ALF’s fascination with them a little clearer to see.
“Are you shittin’ me right now?” Ch’len waddled into the centre of the loose circle they had made. “We just shot our way out of quarantine, injuring who knows how many of Uthor’s soldiers, and you want to stand around, talking about moving the universe!”
Roland sat with his leg hanging over a large crate, quietly chuckling to himself.
“Unless you can teleport Uthor’s rock-laden ass into a black hole, can I suggest we plan our next move?” The Ch’kara pulled something out of his chunky suit resembling a chocolate bar wrapped in a worm and began furiously chomping on it.
“He eats when he’s stressed...” Roland commented.
“He has a point, though.” Li’ara rested her back against an upright crate. Kalian could feel her looking at him but he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes. “We left the Gommarian to actually do something about Garrett and the cubes.”
“Since Garrett’s location is unknown, the only logical choice is to go to the capital since we know there’s a cube hiding inside.” Esabelle’s tone was that of a leader, with determination and conviction for their course of action.
Kalian knew that escaping the capital had been hard for her; letting the cube slip through her fingers. She was keen to finish what she started. “Uthor will be expecting that after what we told him,” Kalian said. “Without surprise, it will be nearly impossible to get inside.”
“Nearly impossible is what we’re good at.” Roland looked to Ch’len for support.
“We suck at that...”
“We need to find Garrett and the Trantax cube,” Kalian continued. “We know that he’s most likely being helped by Protocorps. They knew what to do with the last cube they found - it’s possible they know what to do with Garrett’s cube. Is there no way we can hack into their systems?” Beyond that generic term, he really had no idea how to get information out of a computer.
“In this form, I am very limited.” ALF waved a hand over his holographic robes. “For now I’m stuck inside the suit.”
“Maybe we could fly to the nearest hub, and the Rackham could try a remote hack?” Li’ara offered.
“If they are sheltering Garrett and the cube, I highly doubt that the location will be found on any server,” Esabelle said. “It’ll be hidden within different companies they own a
nd given a false name and coordinates.”
“I say you all join the crew.” Everyone looked at Ch’len. “With your talents and my access to the Bounty Clave, we could make a killing - no pun intended.” His attention only lasted as long as his suggestion.
“We’re screwed,” Li’ara dropped her head. “We have no idea where to go, and we’re the galaxy’s most wanted fugitives.”
Roland shuffled on top of the crate. “There might be a way we can find him...” The bounty hunter scratched his head, avoiding eye contact. Kalian could tell that whatever his idea was, he wasn’t too keen on it. Ch’len gave his partner-in-crime a long hard look before horrified realisation spread across his chubby face.
“No, no, no!” Ch’len waved his little arms in alarm. “You cannot be serious about this, Roland. I know what you’re thinking. The more parsecs between him and us, the better!”
“What’s he talking about?” Kalian could literally see the frequencies around the Ch’kara’s body change with his fear.
“There’s a guy that might know where to start looking,” Roland explained. “He’s a sort of middle-man in the underworld. Everything goes through him from simple muggings to top-tier politics. His business is knowledge.”
“He sounds like a man harder to find than Garrett,” Li’ara added.
“Oh, he’s easy to find,” Roland continued. “Even the Highclave know where to find him. They just choose not to.”
“Exactly. He’s dangerous!” Ch’len was pacing. “If the Highclave can’t touch him, why are we even thinking of going near him?”
“You’re just jittery because you owe him. Don’t think I’ve forgotten why you live on this ship.” Roland hopped off the crate and joined the circle, while Ch’len appeared to be looking for a dark corner to hide in.
“So what’s he going to want in return for this information?” Kalian asked.
“Nothing you’re going to want to part with. Some force may be required...” Roland purposefully rested his hand over one of his Tri-rollers.
Ch’len squawked something unintelligible at the idea and adjusted the holographic panels around his breather.
Kalian looked at everyone, including Li’ara, weighing up their reactions. It was clear to see that they had no better options. Kalian hated being backed into a corner with only one path in front of him; his life had come to this too many times in the last year.
“OK...” He took a moment to give everyone a chance to protest. “Where can we find him?”
Roland smiled as he looked up, “Rackham?”
“Yes, Roland?” the seductive female voice replied.
“Set a course for, Vallara.”
“We’re going to a core planet?” Li’ara stood up straight. “Who is this guy?”
“Nobody knows his real name. He’s just known as The Laronian...”
The Helteron system was several light-years behind Kel-var’s ship now. With so much space between him and the Terran, he felt able to breathe again. He had known since he was a child that a Terran resided inside the sarcophagus, but he had never known why the prophet demanded he be kept alive inside the machine. The revelation was terrifying.
The technology that powered the cubes had repurposed the Terran as some kind of herald, for what was coming. If that twisted figure was only a glimpse of the future, Kel-var wasn’t sure he was ready to face it. It had killed Sel-gar with a flick of the wrist. He remembered the sound of his neck snapping, as the artificial vertebrae were torn from his brain by an invisible force.
He could feel Gor-van watching him from under his consuming, blood-red hood. Kel-var made certain he was showing no sign of fear or regret. Gor-van had only accompanied him on the journey to Shandar because his own vessel had a malfunction in the port-side thrusters. The engineers on the station had reported that it would take another day to fix, and so delay the orders given to them by the Terran. Kel-var’s ship had more than enough room, however, to accommodate the entire board if needs be.
“Did you know that was going to happen?” Gor-van asked.
“Did I know the Terran was going to be used in such a way? No, of course not. Before the incident with this other human, I didn’t even know it could be done.” He was beginning to feel a little too manipulated by the prophet. He had always been the most informed about its plans and the inevitable future of the Conclave, but never this.
“Are we really going to do this? There will be no going back after we activate the Crucible.” Gor-van had never been so free with his words before. Always working in the shadows had made him a very discreet, close guarded man. It was possible he was testing Kel-var’s resolve. Was this the start of a power play?
“The Prophet wills it.” He looked away, unsure that he could keep his expression from betraying his true feelings.
“Does it? Or does this new thing will it?” Gor-van sat forward, his clawed fingers clasped together.
“They are all of the same mind, Gor-van. One entity, but many. You know this.”
“It’s the one they serve that troubles me. We both know they activated the station to open a communication. I fear that we have served our purpose, and now we are being kept out of the loop. Activating the Crucible will be declaring war, Kel-var.”
“You heard the Terran. Once the station is used to destroy the humans, we are to fulfil our end of the prophecy. There will be no war, only transcendence.” He didn’t really believe his own words. After centuries of service to the prophet, he was a slave on a subconscious level. “Your lack of conviction is troubling, Gor-van. Are you not ready to ascend?”
“I have dedicated my life to serving the prophet. I have manipulated countless people for hundreds of cycles to see this plan through. But having manipulated so many, I am accustomed to knowing someone who is being used. Do you not feel used, Kel-var? Because I do. Before we left, the technicians informed me that while they were ‘testing’ the station, three unidentified objects came through it. All three left the Helteron Cluster within minutes of arriving. The station’s anchor point was somewhere outside the galaxy.”
Kel-var thought hard about that for a moment. There was only one explanation he could think of. It made sense, however much he hated being uninformed by the prophet. This plan had taken up centuries of their lives but, for the cubes, it had been much longer.
“They are enacting a plan that no doubt has more layers to it than we are aware of. The scale of it is unfathomable. Of course, we aren’t aware of all the facts; we shouldn’t be, Gor-van. We are servants of a god.”
“We both know what the Highclave are building in the Ch’ket system. The Sentinel is almost ready. If the Terran takes the station to Ch’ket, it will most likely be obliterated.”
Considering that scenario, Kel-var thought he had a good idea of where those three objects were bound for. “As long as the humans are destroyed as well, it doesn’t matter. Besides, there are plenty more stations...”
12
The Marillion glided through space, orbiting the solar system that housed the capital planet, its leisurely speed setting them on a course that would take centuries to traverse the entire circumference. The main sequence was a tiny speck on the reflection of the golden sphere now. The shining hull was a pale comparison to the opulence of the secret interior, with its palace-like rooms and arching corridors that formed the core of the ship. The aesthetic appearance was down to the Novaarian and Laronian designers who created it, with the engineering being a thing of beauty to the Ch’kara and the Shay, while Raalakians found it comfortable due to its hulking size.
With a crew of six thousand, it was well maintained as the flagship of the Conclave armada. After the incident in Clave Tower, the crew had worked double shifts to ensure the Marillion was combat-ready and able to drop into subspace at a moment’s notice. Without command from the Highclave, the ship remained in lockdown so that no other vessel could dock or disembark, while a threat assessment was carried out on the planet.
Elond
rasa walked through the corridors, accompanied by her entourage, feeling safe in the heart of such a magnificent machine. If the threat level increased, the Marillion would activate its next layer of defence, using the same stealth technology used by the Valoran. Like the observation vessel, the great sphere would become invisible to the naked eye and undetectable to any scans. It was a technology reserved only for the Marillion. By allowing it to be used on the Valoran, Elondrasa had taken a huge political hit. She knew that in two cycles, when the council was up for re-election, she would lose her status.
It was worth it to observe the humans, for whatever time they had left.
Elondrasa’s entourage remained behind as she entered the cylindrical chamber made for the Highclave to sit in session. She took her place around the table, admiring the jewel-studded chandelier that hovered overhead. The circular table was broken on one side where the life-size hologram of High Charge Uthor resided. She acknowledged her fellow councillors before nodding to Uthor for his report.
“Have you had time to review the data file I sent, councillors?”
“We have Uthor; your findings are quite serious,” Elondrasa replied.
“If accurate...” Nu-marn added his comment with heavy speculation intoned.
The Novaarian regarded him, aware of his personal feelings towards Protocorps. She let his statement go since, for now, they didn’t know enough about the corporation’s involvement.
“Has there been any progress with locating Professor Garrett Jones?” Brokk shuffled on his saddle-like chair.
“I’m afraid not. Until we understand the Gommarian better, we cannot track the Terran craft he escaped in. In truth, we have no idea where to start looking for him. His reason for stealing the Trantax cube remains a mystery.”
Elondrasa could tell Uthor was finding it hard to relay such little information. As a being with so many resources at his disposal, it must be infuriating for a single person to disappear.
“What about Kalian Gaines and the others?” Lordina was dressed immaculately as ever, despite the privacy of being aboard the Marillion. It was one of the perks Elondrasa loved the most about the ship: no media coverage and no audience.
The Terran Cycle Boxset Page 76
