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The Remnant

Page 26

by Paul B Spence


  He'd do better.

  He had to.

  Chapter Forty

  When Captain John Hutchinson looked upon his bridge crew, he was once again filled with a feeling of great pride. Every officer and crewmember of the Descubierta had volunteered for the return mission to GL 661. Everyone aboard his ship was committed to the same goal: to determine the status of the missing scientists and Fleet personnel on Cedeforthy, and rescue them if possible.

  "What is our position, helm?" he asked.

  "Eleven minutes till we reach outer hyperlimit," Master Pilot Katungi replied. "Our course is laid in and ready to execute upon your orders."

  The captain's plan was daring and bold, which was one thing that had enabled him to convince the admiralty to allow him to risk his ship and crew on something like this. It also was the only plan anyone could think of that might work. The idea was to insert the ship at minimum velocity on the far side of the sun from the inhabited planet and the gas giant that the Nurgg had been seen near. The low transition speed from hyperspace would minimize the hypertrace when the ship transited. The Descubierta would enter the system at an extreme angle, the ship's hypertrace shielded from enemy detection by the mass of the system's star. It should, theoretically, allow them to enter the system undetected.

  Assuming the Nurgg didn't have scouts posted with line of sight around the star. That would be unfortunate for his ship and crew.

  Once in the system, the ship would coast into orbit around the star with minimal course adjustment. They should be able to get near enough to Cedeforthy to make contact, if anyone was still alive to be contacted.

  They would also be able to scan the system for Nurgg activity to report back to Fleet Command, which was probably the real reason Fleet had agreed to the mission at all. If the system was clear, they would reclaim it. No one thought that likely, though.

  "Five minutes, Captain."

  At seventeen light-minutes from the star, the Descubierta burst out of hyperspace, its sensors scanning near space for hostile ships. It pivoted just away from the star, its fusion engines on maximum burn, trying to reach the fastest speed possible as soon as they could.

  "Right on target, Captain," Katungi said.

  "No ships in sensor range, Captain," Zdansky reported. "Weapons systems on standby."

  "Very good," the captain replied. "How is our time, Exec?"

  "Fifty-four minutes till closest approach to the star, Captain," Graham said. "We will curve past and reach the third planet twenty-five minutes later."

  Hutchinson did a quick calculation in his head. "Twenty-five?" he asked.

  "Yes, sir," Graham said, smiling. "We'll pick up a little speed on our slingshot course around the star."

  "Ah, don't get us too close, Master Pilot."

  "No problem, Captain," Katungi said. "I'll barely get close enough to singe your beard."

  Hutchinson smiled. He had grown a thin beard while the ship was in dock being repaired. It had grown in with stripes of black and silver. His executive officer said it made him look like Captain Ahab, and the crew had taken to ribbing him about it – discreetly, of course. Not that there was a lot he could do to a crew that volunteered for what might well be a suicide mission.

  He had kept the beard out of perversity, and he privately though the Ahab comparison was a compliment. He'd rather be thought obsessed than crazy.

  "Take us in, Katungi," the captain said. "Let's hope we have some good news to report back to Fleet."

  Tebrey sat at the window seat and watched the rain.

  It had been raining non-stop for two days, and the inn where the travelers were staying was starting to get crowded. At least he had been able to build up his mental barriers again. They had slipped away so subtlety that he hadn't even noticed they were gone. The drain from the thing in the ruins, and then the events at Vadodara, had shaken him.

  "Credit for your thoughts," Mason said.

  "Hello, Doctor," he replied. "I wasn't thinking much of anything, just watching the rain."

  "Well, from the look on your face, I'd say the rain had better watch itself. It might start to boil under a look like that."

  Tebrey gave her a wry smile. "Okay, I was thinking about Vadodara, and the ruined city."

  "Ugh, gloomy thoughts," she said. "I just wanted to let you know that Jeroen says the weather should improve later today, and then we can head out. So you should get ready."

  "Thank you. How does he know the weather will improve?"

  "His sergeant has an old injury that tells him the weather, apparently. I've learned not to ask questions about things like that. He wanted me to tell you, so I did."

  "The sergeant that McGee is inseparable from?" he asked.

  "That would be the one," said Mason. "His name is Rutgers. Those two were stamped from the same mold."

  The delays had cost them in travel time. They were still fifteen days from the capitol, and getting close to the summer months and the torrential rainfalls that presaged Summersol, the five days of intense heat when the sun never set.

  Tebrey glanced up at the sky. The clouds did look a little thinner. Maybe it will stop raining today, he thought. Raining or not, we're going to have to get back on the road soon. We can't afford to be caught out during the heat of summer.

  He got up and stretched. It was time to start walking again.

  Jeroen paid the bill at the inn and sighed, thinking of his financial situation. A few months ago, he would never have worried about the amount of money he spent, but things were different now. His father had made it clear to him that he didn't approve of his trip to the capitol, or his support of his friends.

  He had been hoping that they would make better time on the road, but things kept slowing them down. That meant more money spent on inns and fodder for horses. His father had also made him pay all his own expenses for the trip, including the wages for his guards.

  His money wasn't going to last forever. They would be lucky if he had enough to get to Bellejor before it ran out. There weren't any banks he could withdraw from outside the city itself, and he didn't have a lot there.

  As much as it pained him to do so, he was going to have to make his friends find their own way to support themselves once they reached Bellejor. He would let them stay for a day or so, but then they were on their own.

  The Descubierta rounded the star at almost forty percent of the speed of light.

  "We've got activity here, Captain," Zdansky reported tensely. "Looks like twenty-three ships, Nurgg, most of them around the gas giant."

  "Christ. Twenty-three? What the hell are the Nurgg doing?"

  No one answered him, of course.

  "Anything near us?" he asked. He was sure Zdansky would have said so, but he had to ask.

  "No, Captain. I've got no traces within six light-minutes."

  The bridge crew breathed a sigh of relief.

  They weren't safe yet, but no ships waiting for them meant that they hadn't been detected yet. With the ship's weapons systems and engines powered down, they were virtually undetectable. Of course, if the Nurgg had a ship out there that was powered down and just sitting in orbit, they wouldn't see it until it was too late.

  All they could do was wait.

  "How is our course?" the captain asked again later. He'd asked almost exactly every five minutes for the last hour.

  "Still right on target, Captain," Graham replied. "We will reach the planet in twenty-two-point-five minutes."

  Hutchinson ran a hand through his beard. It itched. "Am I driving you crazy asking so often, Graham?" he said quietly.

  "Just a little, sir," the executive officer answered with more honesty than tact. "We are doing well, Captain. Everything has gone smoothly."

  "That's what worries me," he muttered. If the Nurgg were watching the planet, they'd detect his ship. If detected, the Descubierta would fight. But she'd be destroyed.

  On the display, the planet was getting closer.

  The sky was still dark wi
th heavy clouds, but the rain had stopped. There were standing puddles on the road, and the drainage ditches were filled to overflowing with gurgling, muddy water. The ground had a half-melted look, and the air was hot, muggy and thick.

  Dr. Mason was weary from so much travel. At first she had welcomed the prospect of exploring Cedeforthy, but the reality of walking for hundreds of kilometers hadn't occurred to her. She hadn't known what it would be like to ache and hurt, day after day. The information she gleaned about the culture was incredible, but she felt empty inside. There was only so much information a person could process before they became overloaded and numb.

  She was much overloaded, and feeling numb would be too good to be true.

  "Tebrey," Jeroen began, "have you given any thought as to what you are going to do once you reach the capitol?" He was walking his horse along the road. The tall foreigner was walking with an almost mechanical gait. He looked as weary as anyone else.

  "I haven't thought much about it, Jeroen. Getting to the capitol seems to be more important than worrying about what we do when we get there." Tebrey stumbled slightly in the mud and walked on. He was still vaguely angry about their last conversation and not in the mood to do it all again.

  "Understand that this is difficult for me to say," Jeroen said.

  "What? Spit it out, man." Tebrey studied his face. The young lord looked nervous and sweatier than could be accounted for by the weather.

  "You are going to have to find some other arrangements for your party when we reach the capitol," Jeroen said in a rush. "I simply cannot continue to support you in this fashion."

  "Jeroen, if you have a problem with me," Tebrey said, "take it out on me. You want me to leave, I'll leave. But don't abandon everyone because you're pissed off at me."

  "I was afraid you'd take it this way." He mopped his brow. "It has nothing to do with you or anything that has happened. The cold fact of the matter is that I am running out of money. I cannot afford to continue. That is all. You may travel with me to the capitol, and stay with me for a day or two, but after that you have to support yourselves."

  Tebrey glared at him for a moment and then walked on. "I suppose that's fair enough. I can see that you would see us as taking advantage of you, and maybe we have been."

  "I didn't mean it like that. It may be that I can help once we get to the city, but I must make some inquiries there first. I may be able to secure a patron for your studies."

  "What do you have to do to get that?"

  "Actually, it will mostly be up to you. I can introduce you to someone who has more than enough finances to pay for your support while you study, but you are going to have to do most of the actual convincing."

  "And what will that entail?"

  "Just be yourself," Jeroen said. "That should work."

  "Anything, Lieutenant?" Hutchinson asked.

  "No, sir," Lieutenant Fowler responded. "There's nothing on any of the communications channels. Our satellites appear still to be in orbit. But there isn't any message traffic. We are at extreme range, though. When we get closer, I can try a planet-wide datalink pulse."

  "Any chance of that being detected, Lieutenant?"

  "Very little, sir. The Nurgg would have to watching the planet very closely for that."

  "And if they were," Graham added, "they would've already seen us anyway."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Very well, Lieutenant," Hutchinson said. "Go ahead and pulse when we get close enough. When will that be, Graham?"

  "In a little over two minutes, Captain. We won't be in range of a military link for long – enough for a reply, but probably not long enough to send a confirmation."

  "It's the best we can do, Graham. Here is what I would like to say..."

  Tebrey stumbled and cried out when the datalink transmission entered his mind.

  "Commander!" Several people ran up to him.

  Hunter roared from off to the right of the road.

  "Wait!" Tebrey shouted.

  A message had dumped into his and Hunter's datalinks at the same time. The shock of it after so long was overwhelming. 'This is the FSS Descubierta to any Fleet personnel on planet,' the message read. 'Nurgg activity is too high to attempt extraction at the current time. We are uncertain if another attempt can be made. Return contingent on receiving reply. Please respond.'

  "Tebrey, what is it?"

  He hurriedly thought out a reply, ignoring the people around him and the mud soaking through the knees of his trousers. 'This is Lt. Commander Hrothgar Tebrey. We have injured and ill people here. Three quarters of science team dead. We need immediate medical evacuation. Any medical aid would help. Please respond.'

  Someone grabbed his arm and shook him.

  He uncoiled from the ground and shrugged the hand off his arm. "A ship!" he yelled. "Let me try to get through!"

  There were startled murmurs from the other refugees.

  'Please respond,' he sent again, desperately. He scanned the sky, hoping to see the ionized trail of an incoming shuttle.

  There was no answer.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The high basaltic walls of the Lyonan capital were an inspiring sight in the strong afternoon light. The cleverly interlocked stone was ten meters high, with deep reinforced bastions and tall, proud towers. Jeroen and his men cheered when the walls first came into view.

  "By the gods, I had almost thought never to see it again," Jeroen said hoarsely. He was walking with Tebrey, leading his horse along the road.

  Tebrey mopped sweat from his brow. The two of them had been getting along better since talking out their disagreements. "Well, I never thought to see the capitol at all, Jeroen. It's been a long journey."

  "Not so long, actually," Jeroen replied. "We have made good time, after all. Although I was worried for a while, as you know."

  "We aren't used to walking so much, or being out in the weather. I was convinced we were going to be washed away earlier this afternoon." The morning had begun sunny, but around midday a violent downpour caught them on the open road. They marched for hours through the rain. Being dry and pain-free seemed like a long-lost dream then. Tebrey found that he trouble remembering what life had been like before being marooned. So much had happened, his past seemed like another existence. It had been like that on Norlin, too. He'd had trouble readjusting to life aboard ship.

  "That was a bad storm, yes. But the rains will get worse in another week or so, as we near the Summersol. It is one reason why I wanted to reach the capitol before then. If we'd been out in one of those storms, we would have been washed away."

  The day had gotten hotter as the clouds blew away. The temperature soared higher than it had previously. Tebrey was sure it reached forty degrees, and it was supposed to get hotter in the weeks to come.

  The sun beat down on them relentlessly, and the air was thick with moisture. It was hard to breathe. Three members of their party swooned from the heat and were forced to ride in the wagons. Everyone was thrilled the journey was at an end, but too tired to do more than walk along in misery and hope to be comfortable again.

  "I hope the city doesn't wash away," Tebrey said with little humor. "Or cook in this heat."

  "It has lasted for hundreds of years," said Jeroen. "There is never any flooding in Bellejor. Also, the thick stone walls and deep cellars of its houses keep it pleasantly cool inside. You'll see soon." He walked closer to Tebrey. "You mustn't judge us all by what happened in Vadodara," he said. "Bellejor is a much more civilized place."

  Tebrey met Jeroen's eyes. "I'm trying to keep an open mind. I really am. You just have to realize that I am from a very different culture. We are fighting a war against people who want to enslave and kill us. We like to think that we humans are better than that. Seeing slavery here on Cedeforthy is painful; it makes us look at ourselves and see the enemy lurking within."

  It was much easier to get into Bellejor than it had been at Vadodara. Traffic passed freely though the large gates. To the north, a river s
naked its way across the plains to pass close to the city wall. Mason could see crowed docks along the river.

  "This is the Merchants' Gate," Jeroen was explaining to her. "This quarter of the city is ruled by my mother's brother, Marquess Nanak. I'm hoping that he will be intrigued enough with your story to sponsor you here in the city, at least for a time. My own resources are limited, as you know, or I would sponsor you myself. We can stay at my home here for the night, and tomorrow I will take a few of you to him if he will grant us an audience."

  "Your mother?"

  "The Lady Varakana," Jeroen replied. "You don't want to meet her."

  "Do you think the marquess will turn us away? We don't have anywhere else to go."

  "I don't think he will. As I said, I think he will be very intrigued. Do you have any idea yet if your people will ever be back for you?"

  Mason shook her head. "We don't know at this time. Tebrey remains convinced that they'll be back. I don't think the rest of us are able to think about it. It hurts too much to know they were here and didn't pick us up."

  "I won't pretend to understand how such things work," Jeroen said. "But I think if Hrothgar believes something will come to pass, it will. He doesn't seem to be given to false hopes."

  "No, I think we worry that he may not believe it himself but is trying to keep our spirits up."

  "Hmm. I see your problem. I would take him at his word, however. He is an honorable man. I think he would tell you the truth."

  "I hope so," she replied. "No offense, but we would like to be back among our own people."

  "I can understand that. There was something I have been wanting to ask," he said, suddenly shy.

  "What?" she asked. She'd never seen him hesitant about speaking his mind.

  "Do you think that it would be possible for me to go with you?" he asked earnestly. "I would like to see other worlds before I die. Now that I know that such things are possible, my own world seems so small. I wish to know more about" – he swept his hands wide to encompass the sky – "everything!"

 

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