Keltan's Gambit: Chronicles of the Orion Spur Book 2

by Michael Formichelli

  Why not? She thought, and picked up the first.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ikuzlu City, Kosfanter

  41:2:17 (J2400:3142)

  They had tempestuous seas for five days, but Cylus didn’t tell Ben to stop the ship until the great brown and red arc of Matre stretched across the horizon in the western sky. The Keltan’s Gambit now floated in the Xiar’Shiv, the Twilight Sea, a region of the ocean where both the sun and Matre’s light were at equal levels on the tidally locked moon. The interplay of the two made the tranquil sea look like liquid gold splashing against the ship’s hull. Seated among the wide chairs on the aft deck, he watched a school of meter-long serpentine fish dance in the yacht’s frothy wake. They used four sets of wing-like fins to leap through the air, holding a perfect arc until their tapered noses splashed into the shimmering water.

  He heard the light patter of bare feet coming up the stairway behind him, and turned to see Pasqualina emerge from below deck dressed in a sky-blue jumpsuit that left her legs and forearms bare. She carried a tray with a pair of sandwiches and vibrant-green drinks in narrow glasses. She handed one of each to him before sitting down in the chair opposite his. Her pupils vanish into a field of solid blue as her cybernetic corneas compensated for the light.

  “How are you feeling?” It was the same question she asked every morning since they set sail.

  “Numb,” he responded as usual. Though the bruises faded, thanks in part to the accelerated healing provided by nanomeds, the gravel in his voice remained. They hadn’t put his larynx back together the right way, and the sound rubbed his nerves raw.

  She nodded at him with a soft expression.

  “It’s a lot to deal with—be the Premier or die. Damn Sophi.” He knew he still hadn’t accepted what was going on. Things were moving faster than he could process.

  There was no word from Sable, and though he was concerned about his friend, he worried for himself more. Right now the damn fish had more allies than he did. He was afraid to contact Sophi for fear of what she might say about what happened, and with Sable not returning his messages there was no one except Pasqualina. She was there for him since the palace, and now that he thought about it, she had been every day since they got back from the Queen Gaia. Was she a spy being nice to him to get information? He wasn’t the schemer of their group, Sophi was. He only ever did what people told him. He was a leaf in the wind, going whichever way Sophi or Zalor blew him. What possible information could Pasqualina give to his enemies?

  “Cy?” She leaned forward, her eyes searching his face. She looked at him with a concern that he wanted to believe was genuine.

  From the time she moved in he had Ben monitor her communications. There weren’t any transmissions from the Keltan Tower to Zalor, or Hagus, or anyone other than Sophi. That didn’t mean she wasn’t dropping messages some other way during her frequent trips to the bazaar, or something like that, but Ben told him that he could find no trace of transmissions with her implant’s signature anywhere on the local Cyberweb. Ben was an AI, and Cylus seriously doubted that she was good enough to mask her traces from him. The lack of evidence left the question of her true motives open.

  “Cy?” she said again.

  “Sorry.” He looked out at the sea.

  If she wasn’t with him to spy, could it be that she was actually just a pawn of the Big Bad Wolf? He had no illusions about his status in that regard. Once he was Premier he would be the baron’s puppet. He would sign off on his enemy’s every measure, just like Dorsky did. He would be the instrument of Zalor’s grand new age—a bitter irony considering both his father and Sable’s were fighting against it when they were killed. Baron Revenant must go to bed every night laughing at how he turned his enemy’s son into a tool. Maybe he was just like Pasqualina. Maybe they were both just pawns in Zalor’s game. If that was true, then he wasn’t alone after all. Zalor would get rid of them both once his purposes were served—that gave them mutual interests. Maybe she realized that from the beginning, and that was why she was nice to him.

  Pasqualina leaned back.

  “Wait,” he croaked.

  She arched an eyebrow.

  “I’ve been judging you based on what went on when we were kids. It’s unfair, and I’m sorry.”

  She leaned forward. “I didn’t mean to hurt you then.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t realize that. I was a stupid kid and I’ve been a pretty stupid adult, too. I’m—” a coughing fit brought on by the scratch in his throat from his own voice interrupted him.

  “Stop apologizing. It’s the past.”

  “But recently—”

  “Stop.” She held his gaze until he quieted. “I got a transmission last night—”

  “You did?” Ben hadn’t mentioned it.

  “Relax, please. I got it while you were sleeping. I would have told you this morning but you came right up here. You’ve been very withdrawn these past few days, not that you haven’t had reason—” she stopped herself. Something about the way she was verbally dancing around made him smile. “I told you I would look into the name Captain Solus. My sources got back to me last night.”

  “You have sources?”

  “Cylus, shush. Captain Solus is the name of the executive officer on the Confederate Space Ship Laocoon. She’s a Tri-Terra Republic FTL vessel donated to the Confederate fleet, and she’s been serving along the Confederate-Broghite border since before the war started. Big military FTL ships can go years between ports, but her last known stop was at Calemni. It’s a deuterium fuel processing station near the front.”

  He crinkled his brow. Why the hell would he have Captain Solus’ name in his cyber-planner? What possible connection would he have to such a man, and why did he feel so interested in this Calemni system? Its mention filled him with dread and he had a burning desire to find out why.

  “More interesting than that, Calemni hasn’t been heard from in months. All military and civilian traffic to and from the system, with the exception of the Laocoon, stopped ten days before its arrival.”

  “How do you know all this?” Cylus felt stunned.

  “I have sources, and Calemni’s processing station is owned by the Extra-Terrestrial Mining Corporation, Hagus’ Barony. I think my access codes might be flagged so I didn’t want to probe too deep, but I was able to find this.”

  His implant detected an incoming file. He accepted it, and an interstellar alert of the type transmitted to ship’s navigation computers by system traffic control appeared in his vision. It stated there is to be no travel to or through the Calemni system due to an accident in the antimatter reactors used by the mining facility. It went on that it is believed the planet was destroyed, and as such, massive amounts of debris was to be expected in the Exit Zones around the system.

  Exit Zones were places in a system where an FTL ship, with the immense mass and gravity from the neutronium reactors it used, could safely enter a system with minimal risk of collision or disruption of planetary orbits. Though even in an asteroid field a collision risk was small, the ship’s own gravity would be a beacon to every space rock, comet, and piece of detritus in the area. No captain in his right mind would chance exiting an Einstein-Rosen bridge in a planetary debris field. It would be suicide.

  “This alert doesn’t make much sense. It would take years, not months, for planetary debris to reach an exit zone. Even if this is true, technically a ship could exit further out than the normal charted Exit Zones, but that would involve a much greater travel time into the system’s core. Calemni has only a refueling station to offer. It’s not even a major port. With the sector capitol of Sasstossa relatively nearby it wouldn’t be worth the extra time or risk to drop in after this alert,” she said.

  “So if I were Zalor, and I wanted to hide something big, this would be the way to do it.”

  She nodded.

  “Cosmos Corp is the leading provider of navigational data in the Confederation. I bet every system between the Broghite border an
d the Sagittarian Republics has this alert.” He scratched his chin through his beard.

  There was something about Calemni that made the back of his brain itch. He knew that if they could get to the bottom of it the strange feeling he had every time he checked his planner, and the dream about the circle of sparks, might finally go away. He took a deep breath. The next step seemed obvious, but he hesitated. For one, this type of thing wasn’t what he normally did. He preferred to leave things to Sable, or call in an agent like Praetor Graves. However, hiring in an outsider would only tell Zalor that he was up to something. With Sable missing, and Sophi enmeshed in her own agenda, he had only one option for assistance. That led him to the second hesitation. Could he trust Pasqualina?

  “I need to ask you something.” He scrutinized her, watching for any sign that she would betray him as if he could know that by looking at her.

  “What?” She looked surprised.

  “I know you’ve been talking to Sophi recently. Why?”

  “She asked me to report in every few days.” She bit her lip.

  It wasn’t the answer he was expecting. His eyes widened, not from Sophi’s spying, but from Pasqualina’s apparent honesty.

  “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her about Captain Solus. I told her that you spend most of the day whining about Zalor, and about how she’s making you do things, and about having to be with me.”

  “What?” he said.

  “I had to tell her something she’d believe—and it is partially true.” Pasqualina blushed.

  “No, why? I mean, why aren’t you telling her about what I’m doing?” He leaned towards her.

  She scooted forward in the chair so she could reach out and take both of his hands in her own. “Sophi is my sister, but she’s also a conniving, nosy, selfish bitch. I don’t think she cares about you or me.”

  “I, ah—” he blinked.

  “Cylus, I haven’t had a sister for very long, but I’ve had you most of my life. We spent our childhood together, at least the early part, and I’ve always liked you. Who do you think I’m going to side with?”

  “Hagus didn’t ask you to spy on me?”

  “I was expecting it, but no, he didn’t—neither did Zalor. It was just Sophi.”

  His mouth moved slowly up and down without making a sound. That wasn’t what he was expecting. If she had been on his side all along he was doing her a great disservice in how he was treating her. She could be lying—she could be telling him what he wanted to hear—but he realized the evidence didn’t point to that. So, for the first time in a long time, he made a decision and threw himself into it.

  He would trust her.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been—”

  “No, that time is past. What do we do now?” Her voice was firm, but her eyes were large and warm.

  “What do you think—”

  “No, you tell me. What do we do now?” Her hands tightened on his.

  “Well, I think I need to get to the bottom of this Calemni-Solus mystery. I have to know why that name is in my head. The only way to do that is to go out there, but I don’t want to leave Sophi here running things while we’re gone. Plus, how would we sneak off without her or Zalor finding out where we’re going?”

  “Sophi’s been trying to get us to go to Anilon. Why don’t we say we are leaving for your home, send the Keynes off, then get to Calemni another way?” she asked.

  “That might work, but what about Zalor? Doesn’t he expect me to stay?” he said.

  “Zalor expects you to behave as you normally do. He doesn’t actually need you on Kosfanter until next year.”

  “So Zalor would let me go home and suspect nothing. What about Vargas?”

  “What about him?” Pasqualina asked.

  “Well, he expects to be our scion. I never thought about it before, but I guess the Premier of the Confederation has always been a Daewonist, hasn’t he? I haven’t been to Temple since the last time my mother—I mean my biological mother, Drucilla—dragged me there. I never took to it.” A thought came to his mind. “Did Vargas say you were a Gaian?”

  “He did, and I am. I converted after the incident on Ganymede.” She smoothed out the golden ringlets of her hair with one hand. They popped back into place, hanging loose over her shoulders.

  “I thought Gaians didn’t use cybernetics. You have an implant.”

  “There are different sects of Gaianists. Mine are called Evolutionists, and we believe that sentient beings evolved the ability to modify ourselves, so those modifications are in accordance with nature. Naturalists think cybernetic machinery is a corruption of the body. They say only a pure unmodified body is natural. We disagree, but we both hold that nature and the universe is sacred. We are all part of it, and so every living thing is important. Understand?”

  “I think so.” He nodded.

  It was a tempting idea to be part of something so big. From the way Pasqualina was talking, it sounded like she believed she was never isolated, never alone. He wondered what that felt like.

  “Did I answer your question?” He could feel the strength of her belief through their joined hands, and it drew him to her in a way he didn’t quite understand.

  “Yeah, you did. Thank you. I guess the point is you’re not too keen on converting to Daewonism either.”

  “I won’t, but it’s a moot point if you’ve decided not to go along with Zalor’s plan.”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “Yes, you do. There is always a choice. I hope you see that soon.”

  The choice seemed like it was between Zalor’s will and death, which wasn’t much of one to him. Still, it was nice to hear her trying to be supportive.

  “So what about Vargas?” he asked.

  “You have to decide that, Cy. Do you want my opinion?”

  A smile twitched at the corners of his lips. “Yes.”

  “He doesn’t really matter. Until you’ve decided what you’re going to do about the election, Baron-Scion Vargas is a non-issue. If you don’t run, we can ignore him. Maybe, even if you do run we still could. We can think about that later.”

  “Oh.” He hated leaving the question dangling in the air. He knew he didn’t have a choice about running, but he didn’t want to chance upsetting his only ally.

  “So what are we going to do now, my baron?” She stared at him in an odd way.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “You are my baron, Cylus.”

  “But I’m not.”

  “No, you are. I am an heiress, not a baroness. You have the final say here. I know you avoid it a lot, but you must tell me. What are we going to do now?” She squeezed his hands, then slowly withdrew from them.

  He watched her place them carefully in her lap. He wasn’t happy about it, but he guessed he had no choice about this.

  “If we send the Keynes off to Anilon, how will we get to Calemni?”

  “Are you ordering me to find a way?” A coy smile replaced the serious look she had.

  “Um, yes?”

  “Say it like you mean it. Say it like a baron.”

  He inhaled, bracing himself for the caustic growl of his voice. “Yes, I am. Heiress, find us a way to Calemni without the Keynes.” The scratch in his throat sent him into a coughing fit.

  She waited for it to pass before speaking. “That’s more like it. I will do so.”

  The way she looked at him made him feel happy and strong.

  Ben, take us back, he transmitted.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ikuzlu City, Kosfanter

  41:2:16 (J2400:3141)

  Cygni leaned back in her chair, resisting the temptation to put her feet up on the broad surface of her desk. It wouldn’t be proper, especially not today. Proper wasn’t something she cared about most of the time, but today was an unusual day. Maybe she was so nervous now because of the tension of recent events. Losing her best friend, this job, and the fact that the first project given to her on the athenaeum was due all added up into one o
verwhelming wave of stress.

  On her office couch sat Ila and Sanul, both dressed in their company uniforms. Sanul looked particularly nervous, glancing at her and then Ila every so often like he was afraid one of them might explode at any moment.

  “It’s good. I think people will like it.” She hoped it was true.

  “Okay,” Ila touched the span of her head between the cartilaginous mounds of her multi-chambered ears and her eyes with small, circular motions. She took a deep breath, shifting her weight like she couldn’t get comfortable on the smartfoam couch.

  “Nervous?”

  “Yes, Haem Aragón.”

  “Call me Cygni, remember?”

  “Sorry, Haem Cygni.”

  “If it helps any, I’m nervous, too. Just remember that you two aren’t the one who have to present it to Baron Revenant, and I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “But it is our work, regardless of who is presenting it. When you are up there, so are we,” Ila replied.

  “Touché, but I think after so many years of war, people are going to adore hearing their loved ones can be home for holidays in the blink of an eye. It was the right angle to take. You got it perfectly.”

  “Thank you, Cygni,” Ila said, looking no better than before.

  Sanul caught Ila’s eye, and gave nium a reassuring nod.

  “Tell me the tag-line again,” Cygni said.

  “Cosmos Corporation, bringing you the Transport and Communications Network: The Tech That Will End The War,” Sanul responded.

  “That slogan is too—um—impersonal.” She didn’t want to hurt his feelings in saying that, but this had to be right.

  “It was Haem Ich’Tilla’s,” Ila said.

  “I don’t need to know whose it was, but we need something better.” She sighed. This kind of work was ad-agency stuff, which she had no experience in whatsoever. She supposed that was why Baron Revenant had her hire staff that did have that knowledge, but why put her in charge of such a department? It made no sense. She was at a loss as to how to judge their work. Still, she knew a bad slogan when she heard one.