“I want to fight for all of our people, Commander Palmer—mine, yours and anyone else the Rasu threaten. It will not come as a surprise to you to discover that here in Concord, we are currently waging multiple internal conflicts. But they are merely background noise compared to the threat posed by the Rasu. If I did not properly comprehend this truth before the Namino battle, I certainly did upon waking up after it.
“We got our asses handed to us in that engagement. But when humans get kicked to the dirt, we stand up, dust ourselves off and return to the battle stronger and wiser. We’ve been working around the clock on new and better weapons explicitly designed to injure or destroy this rather unique enemy, as well as inventive methods to protect ourselves from the Rasu’s particular…skills. I, for one, am anxious to see how these new tools perform in combat.
“Of course we will join you in the fight to liberate Namino. And this time, I promise you we will mean it.”
61
* * *
EPITHERO
Casmir reread the message he’d just received with a measure of dismay. He’d hoped to receive a conciliatory response from the Savrakaths, but he hadn’t expected this.
Navarchos Casmir elasson-Machim,
The Savrakath Legion has taken one of your own prisoner. He proclaims his name to be ‘Torval elasson-Machim.’ As a gesture of goodwill, we propose a trade. We will return the prisoner to your care, in exchange for a one-week cease-fire in our ongoing dispute. During this time, we will consider your previous proposal in greater depth and review viable paths of negotiation that might lead to a permanent cessation of hostilities.
If you refuse this offer, understand this: we will keep him alive until such time as he reveals all he knows. It is unlikely to be a pleasant experience for your comrade.
—General Kuisk Jhountar, Savrakath Legion Commander
It didn’t make any sense. How had the Savrakaths gotten Torval? They’d been operating under the assumption that CINT had transferred Torval to a secret black-ops facility on a Human world. Ferdinand had touted this as yet another reason to despise and mistrust Concord. But what if it wasn’t true, and instead the Savrakaths had somehow captured him?
And the Savrakaths knew enough not to kill Torval. The lizards might be cleverer than they looked.
But their request still seemed pointless. What could the Savrakaths accomplish in a week, beyond try and fail to prepare for the coming apocalypse his fleets would deliver if they didn’t capitulate? Unless they were far along in constructing an additional antimatter facility, they couldn’t rearm themselves with the deadly weapons fast enough to inflict any significant damage. Did they envision themselves planning some grand statement of a strike against a Concord target? They didn’t need a cease-fire to do that. Besides, they’d shown no capability to execute any such strike, and Casmir had deprived them of the tools they would need to do so.
Perhaps they simply needed to lick their wounds, for those were quite deep indeed. The message was unsurprisingly bombastic, but beneath the tone, the words were begging for mercy.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and considered what to do next. Navigating this viper’s nest of lies, deception and competing agendas on Epithero was requiring all his skills and several he didn’t possess. But this was an opportunity to test his growing clout at the table, or at a minimum to judge where he stood with the others.
He readied himself for the coming battle, then called for an all-hands meeting in the conference room.
Ferdinand frowned at the message displayed above the table. “What is this?”
“I sent General Jhountar a communique asking for his unconditional surrender. This is his response.”
“How did he get Torval?”
“No idea.”
“I assume Concord auctioned him off in a bid to appease the Savrakaths.”
Casmir shrugged. “That’s a big assumption. As I said, I’ve no idea. Regardless, they have him. And I think we should accept their offer.”
Otto scoffed dismissively. “At the cost of a cease-fire when we have already driven them to their knees?”
“A brief one, yes. It’s no secret to anyone here that I despise Torval, but he is my elasson brother, and we need to bring him home.”
Ferdinand stared out the window, his back to those gathered. “I agree. He belongs with us. And once he’s free, nothing will remain to stop us from doing as we like to the Savrakaths.”
Casmir blinked. “Nothing except our word.”
Ferdinand spun around, emboldened. “A word given to an enemy, and one who we know plays dirty. We have no responsibility to behave honorably when the Savrakaths do not.”
Just when he thought he’d plumbed the depths of Ferdinand’s callous amorality, the man revealed yet greater depths of depravity. “You’re suggesting we should agree to their terms, retrieve Torval, then continue our bombing campaign unfettered?”
“No. I’m suggesting we increase our bombing campaign and send in ground troops. The Savrakaths are desperate, else they would not have reached out. We can bury them here and now, once and for all. You did say you wanted to dispose of them.”
“To neutralize them as a threat, yes.” Casmir sighed; the problem with his improvised power play was that it constantly pushed at the boundaries of both conscience and duty. Which kind of leader do I want to be? Which kind am I capable of being? “But I cannot in good conscience lie to this General Jhountar and go against my word.”
Ferdinand’s jaw locked. “I knew too much time spent among the Humans had infected you with their weakness and cowardice. Fine. You can return to your comfortable cell, and your betters will take care of retrieving Torval and finishing off the Savrakaths.”
On cue, four Vigil officers entered the conference room. One placed a hand on Casmir’s arm, and he wrenched it away. “You can’t do this. Otto, Hannah? Ferdinand holds no real power here. Will no one defy him?”
Hannah studied her hands and kept silent, while Otto shook his head, possibly with a touch of sadness. “Machims do not show mercy to the enemy, Casmir. I’m sorry, but the Savrakaths have to be Eradicated, in the truest sense of the word. It’s our duty.”
Ferdinand nodded sharply in approval. “Guards, escort him to his room and see to it he does not leave it again.”
This time, Casmir didn’t fight when they grasped his arms. He’d lost…and he had no idea what to do now.
62
* * *
CONCORD HQ
CINT
Richard walked the halls of CINT, making it a point to stop and chat with everyone he passed. The very public arrest of Ferdinand’s mole, Janice ela-Kyvern, risked kicking off a morale problem, but if he played things right, it also presented an opportunity.
He’d never considered himself a ‘people person,’ but he wasn’t only his employees’ boss, he was their leader. So he tried to project an aura of confidence and support, congratulating people on a job well done and reinforcing the importance of CINT’s mission: to protect Concord’s military, institutions and trillions of citizens.
He was fairly certain he was doing a dreadful job of it—
“Richard!”
He turned around to see Will striding toward him, urgency in his step and graveness on his features. Crap. “What is it?”
“You need to see something—but not here. Let’s go to Cliff’s room.”
“Why not my office?”
“Because your office might be compromised.”
He stopped short, dread creeping back into his bones. Was the mole only the beginning? “And yours?”
“I don’t know. Cliff’s room, please?”
He clearly wasn’t going to get any answers standing around in the middle of the hall. They made their way across the atrium to CINT’s other wing, where hardware and supplies were housed. All the way in the rear and through two layers of security sat the lab holding CINT’s Artificial, Cliff.
As soon as they stepped inside, Will closed t
he door behind them, then entered a code on the panel to activate full surveillance shielding.
“Cliff, tell Richard what you found.”
‘We were running a sweep to clean up any sabotage, listeners or other malware that Janice ela-Kyvern could have left behind in CINT systems. We found one, but not from Janice.’
Richard groaned and dropped his head against the wall. “We have another leaker?”
‘Possibly. We found a general-purpose listener routine embedded in the routing node. Its subtlety is quite ingenious, which is why we didn’t detect it during our regular daily scans—’
“Focus, Cliff. Where did it originate?”
‘The Consulate.’
His mind leapt to his contentious conversation with Senator Requelme regarding attacking the Savrakaths. “Mia?”
‘Not precisely.’
Sometimes he longed for the old days, when Artificials lacked nuance. “It’s been a long day, Cliff. Don’t make me fish for it.”
‘Apologies, sir. The listener reports back to the network station in Marlee Marano’s office.’
He exhaled in relief. “That I can actually believe. The girl’s curious about everything we do here. It’s likely harmless, but let’s erase it. I’ll talk to Mia about disciplining her. I mean, when she gets home.” He’d seen Alex and Caleb pull off the impossible too many times not to believe they would successfully get themselves and Marlee off Namino and out of the Rasu’s clutches.
‘It’s not so simple. A little over a week ago, the listener morphed into something more nefarious, and it was used to send a message using your access code to Taiv ela-Kyvern.’
“But…this doesn’t make any sense. Marlee is trapped inside a quantum block five megaparsecs away. She couldn’t have used it—shit.”
Will drew closer, studying his countenance for clues. “What do you know?”
“Mia tried to convince me to pass along a tacit authorization, via Taiv, for Casmir to open up on the Savrakaths. Miriam rejected the idea. But now Machim warships are doing bombing runs across Savrak. Damn, would Mia really go behind my back and use CINT resources to co-opt my own informant? It’s a major breach of security, not to mention a criminal offense.”
‘There is one more thing, Director. This morning, a message traveled in the opposite direction, from Taiv to you, but it was intercepted by the modified listener routine.’
“You’re kidding me.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “What did it say?”
‘I do not know.’
Consulate
Mia’s fingertips caressed the scarf draped around her neck, and she let her mind wander to the night Malcolm had given it to her. It was woven of traditional tussar silk into a delicate jade and gold pattern he’d said complemented her eyes. Eyes she’d changed solely for him, in the first not-so-subtle clue that she cared about him.
Your listener routine has been scrubbed from the CINT system.
She jerked back to the present, her hands falling to her lap. That’s fine, Meno. It’s done its job.
Yes, but its erasure likely means CINT has discovered its origins.
She felt…was this relief? She didn’t enjoy betraying the trust of her friends and colleagues. She didn’t enjoy manipulating people to cause harm to others. But this was where the path of vengeance had led her, and there was no going back now. So be it.
One last thing to do—reach out to the one person who despised the Savrakaths as much as she did and might be in a position to strike the final blow. She sent them a message containing the information Taiv ela-Kyvern had intended to relay to Richard, then worked to busy herself with the mindless minutia of her job for a few last moments.
When Richard Navick walked in unannounced ten minutes later, she gave him a bland, professional smile. “What can I do for you?”
“We found and disabled your listener routine.”
“I know.”
She thought he looked a little sad. Or possibly it was pity. “You’re not going to deny it was you?”
“What would be the point? You lead a spy organization, so I’ve no doubt you’ve uncovered the evidence you need. Besides, I find I don’t have the energy for further subterfuge. I’m tired.”
His gaze roamed around the office, possibly in search of another way forward—but this ended only one way. Still, she admired him for making the effort. “You realize you’ve committed a criminal offense. Not only will you lose your position in the Senate and at the Consulate, you could go to prison.”
“I could. Are you planning to see to it that I do?”
“Mia, I don’t understand. I mean, I do understand why you despise the Savrakaths. I truly do. You’re grieving, and for that I am so sorry. But Concord is as much your brainchild as it is Miriam’s or anyone else’s. You’ve devoted the last fourteen years of your life to making this alliance work. Now you’re just throwing it all away?”
“Just? No, not ‘just.’ ” She stood and adjusted the scarf at her neck, letting her hand brush across the Caeles Prism resting below it. “But you’ve forgotten something about me. Before I was a businesswoman, I was a thief. Before I was a politician, I was a fugitive and a revolutionary. It turns out this is who I truly am, not the genteel public face I’ve worn for the world these last years.” She laughed dryly, though doing so made her chest hurt. “It’s funny. I spent so much time and effort convincing Malcolm that I wasn’t a killer, merely a survivor. Now he’s gone, and vengeance is my survival.”
“What did the message from Taiv say? Tell me now, and I’ll recommend leniency for you.”
“It’s too late for me. Goodbye, Richard.” She let loose the building energy in her necklace, stepped through the open wormhole, and closed it behind her before he could follow.
63
* * *
CINT VESSEL 23A-X
Vicinity of Savrak Stellar System
Eren cringed as he opened his eyes…but no skull-splitting pain roared forth to greet him. Everything continued to hurt for certain, but in a normal bone-weary, existentially exhausted way.
He checked his arms to find multiple scrapes and two legitimate gashes scabbed over and healing. A headache throbbed rhythmically against his forehead but, again, an average and ordinary headache. His mind felt marginally clear.
He pushed up to a sitting position and peered around the cargo hold. The force field remained active, and Drae was nowhere to be seen.
He drew his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and buried his face in the cradle. Hot tears balanced precariously on his eyelashes, but he fought to keep them from escaping.
This ache, this all-consuming sorrow, hurt worse than the spiders or the brain swelling or the gouges he’d dug into his skin. He wasn’t ready to deal with the grief. His brilliant plan had been to ensure he never need deal with it. Curse Drae for not letting him take the coward’s way out on a one-way ticket to oblivion!
“Eren, are you all right?”
He hurriedly wiped his eyes dry while Drae climbed down the ladder. “ ‘All right’ is devastatingly relative, but I am feeling better. I guess this is where I’m supposed to thank you for saving me or some nonsense.”
Drae crouched in front of him on the other side of the force field. “I hope one day you will, but I get that it’s not today.” He motioned over to the left, beside Eren, where a paper-wrapped package sat next to a fresh thermos of water. “I left you some food. You should eat.”
“Sorry, I didn’t see it.” He scooted back to the wall and unwrapped the package to find a fresh roast beef sandwich inside. He turned up the thermos of cool water first, then set it aside to bite into the sandwich with surprising gusto. His stomach growled, though whether in thanks or protest, he didn’t dare guess. How long had it been since he’d eaten anything?
While he chewed, he studied Drae. The man seemed rather sleep-deprived and stressed himself. Eren didn’t remember much about the last…however long he’d been here, but he imagined he’d been a mo
st troublesome patient. “When are you going to let me out of here?”
“When you agree to reconnect to the Concord regenesis server.”
“That’s what I thought you were going to say.” He set the sandwich down on his thigh, his appetite gone. His heart yearned for escape from the sorrow welling up to drown him, for a permanent peace. Could he somehow bear to walk in a world that had been stripped of its light? Why even try? Once upon a time he’d proclaimed to Caleb and Alex that immortality was worth the fortune of galaxies, but now the notion of eternity stretching out in an endless string of forever days loomed before him like a dark and forbidding abyss.
“Eren, I know you think you’re alone in this, but you don’t realize the friends you have who care about you. Caleb and Felzeor went searching for you after you didn’t come to the funeral. They hunted everywhere. Thelkt commed every former anarch he knows to ask whether they’d seen you. Director Navick has been searching, too, and he’s the one who sent a frantic Mesme to me. There’s a lot of bad shit going down out in the world right now, and it would be so easy for all of us to simply let you go in favor of attending to our crisis of choice. But we’re not going to do it.”
The funeral…arae anathema. Part of him hated himself for not being there to honor her; the other part doubted his weak and battered soul could have withstood the trauma. “The funeral was nice?”
“I was locked in a regenesis lab, but Director Navick said it was beautiful.”
Eren’s jaw clenched for control. “Good. I’m glad.”
“So what do you say? Are you ready to rejoin us in the land of the living?”
Could he do it? Could he face those endless days alone? Might the pain get better in time, easing away to reveal some light? Gods, Cosime would hate him for being such a histrionic, fatalistic sap. She would tell him there was still good he needed to do in the world, people who still needed his help, and he had damn well better get up off his whiny ass and help them.
Inversion (Riven Worlds Book Two) Page 36
