Captive Embers (The Wardens' Game Book 1)

by Brian Mansur

  They had few options to counter his primary weapon. It was a question of physics. The Tsunami’s fifteen-meter-wide mirror allowed it to dish out direct-energy damage at a much greater range than anything else in the battlespace—except, of course, for a long-range Casaba, but the Lakshmians seemed fresh out of those.

  Claire said, “Cruiser Rajput is opening her bow-shield.”

  Sean’s smile broadened. The Rajput had ten-meter-wide main optics in its nose. At their present range, it had little hope of damaging either the Tsunami’s armored mirror or its edge-on cooling fins.

  “Switch target to the Rajput’s laser,” Sean said. “So long as their mirror is exposed, pound it.”

  “Rajput is firing. They’re going for our optics.”

  Sean recognized the desperate tactic. They hoped that the cumulative damage to the Tsunami’s modular mirror assembly would degrade it beyond usefulness. Its superior armor mesh, however, almost guaranteed that the Rajput would lose its reflector first.

  “Continue firing,” Sean ordered. Had it been him, he would have focused at the Tsu’s edge-on radiators, hoping to erode their bumper-like shields enough to punch through.

  By the fifth exchange, the Rajput closed its nose shield back up before the Mykonian lasers could warp the optics. The battleship returned to punishing the Godavari.

  Claire advised, “They’re increasing acceleration again. Military thrust.”

  “Figured out that they’re screwed, have they?”

  The Tsu’s main laser would make them pay dearly for every klick of space they advanced. Their best choice now was to close the range as quickly as possible so that the Tsu couldn’t destroy the missiles waiting in their bowels.

  Fortunes of war, Sean thought. Payback time.

  Over the next ten minutes, Sean took shot after shot with impunity, shaving off hunks of the frigate’s bow and punching through to its mirror below. Meanwhile, the Lakshmians dumped almost all of their remaining reaction mass to increase their closing speed to five kilometers-per-second.

  When the range reached six thousand kilometers, the call arrived. “Missiles launched.”

  His body tightened again. Claire had already done the math for him. The missiles could add another four klicks per second to the closing velocity. That left the fleet ten minutes to knock down up to three-hundred-fifty inbounds.

  “Lasers to anti-missile mode and fire.” In response to Sean’s orders, the laser switched to a higher rate of fire with shorter pulses. At first, they only burned out the missile guidance systems. As they neared, the explosive ablation to their armor knocked them off axis.

  When the missiles closed to three thousand kilometers, the Mykonian destroyer, Audacious joined with its main laser cannon. At two thousand kilometers, the frigates Lewis and Branford added their fire.

  Claire said, “Rajput is opening its nose cone again.”

  “Retract radiators,” Sean ordered. “Take out that laser.”

  Before the Tsunami wrecked the cruiser’s mirror, the enemy’s fire jammed one of the Tsu’s radiators into a half-folded position. Another fin spewed hot coolant until valves pinched the flow off. It finished ducking inside the hull.

  Sean said, “Hold onto fin number two.” He didn’t want to jettison it in case they might be able to repair it after the battle. They had only one large radiator out of four left—two others had been destroyed in the colony’s missile attack.

  Sean’s eyes moved to their lithium heat sink capacity. They had enough for the job, he thought.

  Claire said, “Missiles closing.”

  Much to Sean’s consternation, they needed to lob their last Reapers at the threats. Nuclear hellfire finished off the last of the enemy’s ordnance. As the rain of dead missiles passed through the Mykonian formation, Sean wondered at the Lakshmians, “What else have you got?”

  Both sides held their fire: their heat sinks nearly full.

  A short eternity later and Claire said, “Enemy formation approaching one-thousand-kilometer perigee.”

  Knife-fighting range.

  “Signal from acting flag,” Claire said. “All ships, fire lasers.”

  The opponents tore into each other. The Tsunami bore two-centimeter-wide holes through the destroyer Chennai’s armor, wrecking the enemy’s mirror. The frigate Satpura lost its optics to shots from the other Mykonian ships. The Godavari and Rajput had nothing left to fight with.

  “Extend radiators,” Sean said, feeling like he was floating not in space but in a dream. “Continuous barrage until flag orders cease-fire.”

  He watched as the enemy warships spurted gouts of hull from the repeated laser strikes. He reeled in his bunk as a profound wave of elation and relief crashed together inside him. It combined to form a tsunami of emotion.

  They’d won.

  31

  Location: Battalion aid station, Segment 5, Lakshmi Colony_

  Sarah felt as though she walked in a dream-state. The Lakshmians were free. With the server bunkers destroyed, Natrix couldn’t control them. To everyone’s relief, the Wardens patched the breaches before the air thinned appreciably.

  Meanwhile, the brigade recovered James from his hiding place and installed him as the habitat’s new A.I. This allowed him to deactivate the bombs in the slave collars.

  Sarah had never seen such joy in people before. They danced in the streets. They jumped. They clapped. They hugged and kissed and ran about.

  Anytime the Lakshmians saw a Mykonian, their faces beamed. Children frequently rushed up to embrace Sarah. She and the marines accepted the accolades with saddened smiles. The price had been so high.

  Out of a landing force of five thousand, they’d lost seven hundred souls. Over a thousand more had been injured. Uncounted Lakshmians had also died between the fighting and their few hours of enslavement. When Sean called Sarah to let her know he was alive, she silently thanked him for not talking about the fleet’s losses.

  The Mykonians converted an office building into a makeshift aid-station. Through an effort of great will, Sarah put aside her shock and set to healing the wounded. For over a day she worked until she stumbled about, worn beyond all endurance. At that, it took a doctor’s orders to make her sleep.

  When she woke up a few hours later, a commander wearing a Fleet Intelligence patch stood over her. Stern-faced, he said they needed her to tend to a special patient. He tried to frighten her with all sorts of threats against her life and career should she talk about whom she would be caring for.

  Still exhausted, Sarah couldn’t have minded less. She had grown too numb inside. Then he told her who the patient was.

  Location: Lakshmian Hospital, Segment 5_

  The guard waited outside as Sarah stepped to Lilith’s bed. The deposed empress regarded Sarah with a blank expression.

  “Are you in any pain?” Sarah asked in a monotone. When Lilith said nothing, Sarah added, “I’m going to check you over.”

  She set to examining the IV line, catheter, splint, and bandages. She changed a few dressings, but otherwise left the previous caregiver’s work alone.

  When done, she looked again into Lilith’s green eyes. The lids drooped with drug-induced malaise, but Sarah felt certain the woman remained aware. Before she could stop herself, before she could think to turn and flee, Sarah bent over Lilith and let her feelings tumble out.

  In a hoarse whisper, Sarah said, “I’ve never hated anyone before you came along. You’ve threatened everyone and everything I love. I’ve watched innocent people—children—die in terrible ways because of you. Thanks to you, I don’t know if I can ever feel safe again.”

  Lilith’s eyes drifted toward the pointed shears in Sarah’s hand. The nurse tightened her grip around them.

  “Do you know what I’m going to do to you?” Sarah asked, her body trembling. Lilith replied with numb silence.

  Sarah took the shears and laid them on the stand beside her. A tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Whether you like it or no
t,” she said, choking on a sob, “I’m going to forgive you for what you’ve done to me.” She caught on the urge to cry but worked her voice around it. “I’m going to help heal you because you’re a hurting human being like me and it isn’t my job anymore to punish…”

  From deep within, a new determination took hold. She eased Lilith’s head up to fluff the pillow. The battered woman exhaled a sour fume. Sarah wafted it away with a hand. She raised a translucent bottle and placed its straw to Lilith’s lips.

  “Water?” Sarah offered.

  Location: Lakshmi Colony_

  Karen had little to do but worry for almost a week. Within a minute of arriving at Mumtaz’s brothel, Markem had stuffed Karen into a pitch-black room. The girl scratched about the locked cell only to find it completely bare, save for a few splinters. Trapped, she missed out on both the colony’s enslavement and liberation.

  Occasionally, a muscular young man would open the door long enough to pass her water, food and a bucket with which to relieve herself. He promised to hurt her if she called out. She cried herself to sleep whenever sleep would come. She always woke up screaming from a nightmare.

  One day, the young man took Karen out. He blindfolded her, tied both hands behind her back and brought her to a ground car. They drove for hours. All the while, the child sobbed in fear that they intended to take her back to Lilith.

  When they stopped, the man pulled the sightless Karen out and walked her off for several paces. Their footfalls made a sharp echo. Then Karen felt the hand on her upper arm vanish, and she heard the man trail away.

  For almost a minute, she stood trembling in place. Eventually, she worked up the courage to use a nearby wall to work the blindfold off of her eyes. She saw that the man had abandoned her in an alley. The local police found the frightened girl an hour later.

  Rafe had been interviewing survivors of Karen’s lifeboat when the word reached him.

  Sean Merrick said, “Commander, your daughter’s alive. The Segment 3 constabulary have her. I’ll have Lieutenant Riley and an escort meet you there.”

  In shock, Rafe fumbled his words twice when asking James to get him a ride to the police station. Inside, he found the pink-haired nurse waiting for him.

  The haggard lady stepped forward and said, “She’s asking for you, sir.”

  Rafe quaked, suddenly more afraid than when he’d faced Markem’s fists. I let this happen to her.

  “How is she?” he asked. “What has she told you?”

  Sarah’s eyes telegraphed worry. “I don’t think they did anything to her beyond roughing her up. When I told her you and Anna were safe, she started crying. She kept saying everything that’s happened was her fault.”

  Sarah searched his face, an unspoken question passing between them: Do you blame her too? The notion took Rafe aback. How often in the last few days had he asked himself, “If only she had listened?” He imagined his wife’s spirit urging him. She doesn’t need blame, and you, of all people, have no right to lay any on her.

  Rafe left Sarah with the marines and stepped through the door. He stopped as he saw a figure wrapped in a blue blanket. He hadn’t seen his eldest daughter in four months.

  The girl peered up from her chair, cheeks slick. She drew a shuddering breath.

  “Karen?” he said.

  The child’s fingers twitched about one another. She whispered, “Oh, daddy. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Somehow, Rafe hadn’t expected this. Wasn’t she supposed to say hello and run into his arms? He took a ginger step forward, and in a choking voice, he asked, “Sorry for what, baby?”

  Karen’s lower lip trembled. “Mom’s dead because of me. Anna could have gone through what I did because of me.”

  The words rent Rafe’s heart. He saw in her eyes a shame that he shared. He had let his daughter fall into Lilith’s hands. The father rushed to his little girl and embraced her. He said, “Anna’s safe. Your mother is dead because some very evil people killed her.”

  Karen’s throat tightened. She squeaked out, “I could have protected us. And I didn’t. I didn’t!”

  The words fell on him like a leaden mantle. I could have protected you. And I didn’t.

  He said, “You don’t know that Lilith wouldn’t have found some other way to hurt us.”

  “No, no, no,” she said. “I deserved what happened to me.”

  Rafe pulled back so he could peer into his precious child’s face. He squeezed her shoulders. “Nothing you did can excuse what was done to you or us.” He tried to brush her hair back. “I will never blame you.” To his surprise, he found that he meant it. “I don’t want you to ever blame yourself again for this. What’s done is done.”

  Staring off, Karen said, “I should have—”

  “Karen,” Rafe said, beating back his emotions. “I love you so much. I would die for you, no matter what you do or don’t do. The only important thing now is that you’re safe again.”

  “I could have—”

  Rafe took his daughter’s face in his hands. As his own eyes poured, he felt her tears flow through his fingers. For a time, he watched her face, remembering it as it had once been and would be again.

  In a hoarse voice, she said, “I’m so sorry.”

  Rafe whispered, “You are my daughter, and I love you. Nothing you could possibly do will ever change that. And I want you to know that I am so proud of you for taking care of your sister and for surviving.”

  “But I should have—”

  “Shh,” Rafe cooed. He pulled his child close again. “You’re safe now. I’m here. And we’ll get through this together.”

  Epilogue

  Location: Liberty Base, Lakshmi Colony_

  Admiral Paulson arrived at her office in a distracted state. There was so much to do. Forces were converging on Belia. A Mykonian battlegroup would arrive next week. The Celesian ships that Lilith had purchased would reach the New Belian Empire within a month. Following those flew still more warships flagged under Celes, in violation of treaty. The Celesians insisted, of course, that they intended no hostility.

  The liars.

  The Belian Imperials held almost half of the region’s colonies. The rest had formed an alliance alongside Mykon to oppose them.

  We’re at war, she thought. We can only hope it remains a cold one.

  A knock at the door startled Paulson. “Come in,” she called, expecting to see her aid. The door swung open to reveal a group of Warden enforcers.

  She shot to her feet, heart suddenly pounding, unable to guess what they could’ve wanted.

  They entered with silent efficiency, fanning out to the walls. From their midst, a single tall male of middle age and trim build entered.

  “Good morning, Admiral,” the man said in a firm tenor. “My name is Len. We have a lot to talk about.”

  Within the tight constraints of Cef’s rules, Len mesmerized Paulson with details about Cef, himself and the contest for control over human civilization’s dying embers. He explained bits about the Reservation Charter governing Cervantes: a document humanity had lost to time and calamity. Paulson listened with increasingly shallow breaths.

  After staring dumbfounded at Len for several moments, she asked, “Why? Why do we have to go through this game?”

  “In point of fact, you do not. We can make you do nothing to one another. Unfortunately, I believe most will participate out of fear. You have suffered from some of the incentives given to Lilith. There will be others: special weapons obtainable through quests or inside arenas of challenge.”

  Paulson’s head turned a fraction. She peered, transfixed at the being who had flipped her world upside-down. Her list of questions had grown long, but she still didn’t fully understand the stakes.

  “What will this Cef do if he wins the game?” she asked.

  “I… cannot discuss that.”

  Paulson rubbed a finger along an eyebrow. “Mr. Len, until you walked into my office, I grew up believing Cervantes’s civilization
had all but wiped itself out at least twice. Are you saying Cef is responsible for all that?”

  “The Reservation Charter prevents us from killing unless there has been a violation of the Warden Code. That is all I can say on the matter.”

  Paulson wanted to slam her fists on the table. “Damn it, we figured that much out on our own. What can you tell me? Is the population ceiling theory right? Is this game Cef’s way of killing off our excess numbers?”

  “A direct answer is not possible,” Len answered. “I can share that the Reservation Charter only requires us to support one hundred million of you. I think you can make the right deductions from there.”

  Paulson groaned. This was like playing charades with words.

  “Is Cef the one who came up with this insane contest?” she said.

  Len’s gaze faltered. He fidgeted. “Please, understand there are many strict rules I must work under. If I overstep them, the penalties are severe. Most violations will cause forfeiture of the game.”

  Paulson sneered at Len. “Why should I believe you? You could be another part of this sick circus for all I know.”

  Len gave her an embarrassed, sympathetic smile. He looked to a Warden at his right and nodded. An instant later, Claire interrupted them.

  “Admiral,” she said.

  “Not now,” Paulson replied.

  “Ma’am, you ordered me to advise you immediately when I had news about Gita Tiwari-Hastings.”

  The hairs on Paulson’s neck stood bolt upright. A twinkle, equal parts hope and sorrow, shone in Len’s eyes.

  The admiral said, “Go ahead.”

  “Ma’am, Chief Hastings and fifteen other Zeus residents just appeared outside Gate 12: the one for the Warden shipment that docked this morning. My diagnostic suggests a Warden command was keeping me from seeing them.”