Fleet of Knives
Page 28
“Holy crap.”
“You saw the bite one of them took out of the Lucy’s Ghost,” Addison said. “Its teeth went through her hull plating like it was nothing.”
Preston whistled. “How do we defend against something like that?”
“I don’t know that we can,” the Trouble Dog said. “I suspect our best strategy would be to try to avoid them altogether.”
“And how are we supposed to do that?”
The avatar pulled up a star map.
“We’re here,” she said. “Now Bochnak’s data suggests this region over here is relatively free of these creatures. In fact they seem to avoid it.” A highlight appeared over the area of space containing the Intrusion.
“But that’s within the borders of the Generality,” I reminded her. “Won’t we run into trouble with the Fleet?”
She smiled infuriatingly. “That’s the curious part.” Her tone was light and confident. “It seems the white ships are also avoiding it.”
“Maybe they know something we don’t?” Schultz murmured.
Addison dug him in the ribs with her elbow. “Hey! I’m from the edge of the Intrusion, remember?” She looked at me. “I was born there,” she said. “If you can get us there in one piece, I’ll be able to help you find a hiding place.”
Preston coughed. “That’s all very well.” He gestured at the picture of the dragon. “But what do we do if we run across one of these things before we get there?”
“We’ll just have to hope we don’t.” I glanced at the avatar. “Right?”
For the first time, the Trouble Dog let herself look uncomfortable.
“Something about the dragons renders them invisible to artificial instruments,” she said. “I have no idea how that might work, but apparently it does. We could be surrounded by a horde of them right now, and I’d have no idea until they struck.”
Preston sucked in a breath. Addison looked around at the walls, as if expecting diamond fangs to pierce the bulkhead at any moment.
“What can we do?” Schultz asked. “Can we keep lookout?”
The avatar held up a palm to stop him. “You can’t look in every direction at once,” she said. “And it’s well documented that humans who stare too long into the void start hallucinating.”
I had the feeling she was edging towards something. I tried to keep the impatience from my voice.
“Well, what do you suggest?”
“I think I’m going to need an eye.”
“An eye?” I wasn’t quite sure what she meant.
“A real human eye,” she said. “Ideally with the optic nerve still attached.”
I gave her an incredulous stare.
“And where do you propose acquiring one of those?” I couldn’t believe she was talking literally. “It might have escaped your attention, but we’re a long way from the nearest hospital.”
The avatar’s face lost all expression. “We’ll have to ask for a volunteer among the crew.”
Addison leapt to her feet. “You want one of us to donate an eye?”
The Trouble Dog gave the slightest of nods. “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t a matter of survival.”
I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Alva Clay had sacrificed her life for the survival of the crew. Now all the ship was asking from us was an eye. I pictured Clay and imagined what she’d say, and immediately knew what I had to do.
“You don’t have to ask for a volunteer,” I said, speaking before I could change my mind. “I’ll do it. You can have one of mine.”
Schultz stiffened. “Captain, you can’t!”
“Oh, shut up. Of course I can.”
“What about Nod? He has twelve eyes.”
“It would be easier to integrate a human visual cortex,” the Trouble Dog said. “Seeing that the organic parts of my brain are human, and Druff biochemistry is somewhat different in several inconvenient respects.”
I sighed. “Besides, the only other member of our official crew is Preston, and he’ll need to be the one to perform the… extraction.”
Schultz tapped his chest. “What about me?”
“No, this is something I can’t ask anyone else to do. As captain, it’s my responsibility.”
“Thank you,” the Dog said.
I shrugged away her thanks. “When do you need it?”
“Right away.”
The sinking feeling became a cold, deep emptiness that seemed to stretch from the pit of my stomach to the base of my windpipe. I rose unsteadily to my feet and straightened my cap. My tongue felt dry. At that moment, I would have given anything to have Alva beside me, urging me on with her bravery and sarcasm. I coughed to clear my throat.
“Okay, let’s do this quickly,” I said. “Before I chicken out.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
TROUBLE DOG
The higher dimensions echoed with distress calls. All over the Generality, ships were fleeing the Fleet of Knives. Merchants, travellers, diplomats. I ached to tell them what I had learned. They deserved sanctuary as much as I did. But broadcasting my destination would also alert the Fleet, and jeopardise the safety of my passengers and crew. The best I could do was broadcast Bochnak’s data and hope a few of them would be able to figure it out and come to the same conclusions I had. The more ships that reached safety, the more options we’d have when it came time to discuss how we might fight back against the Fleet’s occupation of the Generality.
In the meantime, I scanned the surrounding mists. Even though I knew it was futile, I couldn’t help it. I felt sightless and vulnerable. Knowing something undetectable lurked out there filled me with a prickly dread. I could be struck at any instant, and not see my attacker until the moment of impact—and even then, all I’d actually see would be the damage they inflicted. The sooner I hooked the captain’s eye into my sensor array, connecting it to the organic tissue at the heart of my processors, the happier I’d be.
Right now, Konstanz lay sedated on a bed in the infirmary while Preston readied the instruments he would need to remove her right eye. The operation would be long and difficult, as he needed to keep the optic nerve intact. But I would be looking over his shoulder, offering my advice. And he really had come a long way in his studies over the past year. Even if his hands were shaking now, I was confident I would be able to successfully guide him through the procedure.
In the meantime, the Adalwolf and I were crossing Nymtoq space, heading for refuge on the far side of their territory, in the region of the galaxy controlled by the Hoppers—the benevolent, cricket-like race that had taken the captain’s lover on their expedition to Andromeda.
As we flew, Adalwolf and I talked. We were the only two surviving members of our pack, and pack loyalty runs strongly in Carnivores. It is literally bred into us. And so, although we’d fought, I was delighted to have him with me. I felt as if I’d regained a little part of myself that had been missing since I resigned from the navy. We talked of our dead and missing siblings, killed during the war, and I forgave him for his misguided actions at the Gallery—just as he forgave me for killing our sister, Fenrir.
We hoped the Hoppers would allow us to repair our damage and refuel our engines. From there, we could plot a circuitous course around the edge of the Generality, leaping from one alien province to another, until we finally reached the Intrusion.
What we would find when we reached that anomaly, I didn’t know. But if both the dragons and the knife ships were afraid of it, I hoped it would make an ideal gathering place for the last human starships—a refuge where we could hide until we figured out what our next step was going to be.
The journey to get there would be lengthy and filled with peril, but I knew we were capable of making it.
Until then, all we could do was mourn our losses and turn our faces to the stars. No matter how upset and weary we might be, we were, as Alva Clay had once observed, like sharks—we had to keep moving forwards lest we died.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Special
thanks are due to Adrian Tchaikovsky, who suggested the title of this book when I was stuck for one. He’s one of the best writers we have; please go and check out some of his novels.
I’d also like to thank my agent, Alexander Cochran at C+W; my editor, Cath Trechman at Titan Books; my copy editor, Hayley Shepherd; and my friends and family, for everything they’ve done to support and encourage me during the writing of this novel.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Gareth L. Powell lives and works in North Somerset. His alternate history thriller Ack-Ack Macaque won the 2013 BSFA Award for Best Novel, spawned two sequels, and was shortlisted in the Best Translated Novel category for the 2016 Seiun Awards in Japan.
Gareth’s short fiction has appeared in a host of magazines and anthologies, including Interzone, Solaris Rising 3, and The Year’s Best Science Fiction, and his story “Ride The Blue Horse” made the shortlist for the 2015 BSFA Award.
In addition to his fiction, Gareth has written film scripts for corporate training videos, penned a strip for the long-running British comic 2000 AD, composed song lyrics for an indie electro band, and written articles and reviews for The Irish Times, Acoustic Magazine, and SFX.
He studied creative writing under Helen Dunmore at the University of Glamorgan, and is now a popular panellist and speaker at literary events and conventions around the UK. He has run workshops and given guest lectures at a number of universities, libraries and conferences, is a frequent guest on local radio, and has appeared on the BBC Radio 4 Today programme.
Gareth lives near Bristol with his wife, daughters and cats.
He can be found online at: www.garethlpowell.com
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