Starcaster Complete Series Boxed Set

by J. N. Chaney

  The High Shaman said nothing and merely let the heavy silence linger. His counselors and advisors, and all the myriad sycophants that hung about and sought the favor of the High Shaman, all fell quiet.

  The High Shaman waited a moment longer, until he was sure that everyone present felt keenly uncomfortable. The Herald became, if anything, even more shrunken into himself.

  “So, you are telling me that a collective of our most accomplished shamans, twenty-six in all, are unable to break and reshape the mind of a lone human girl? All of their powers, combined, aren’t adequate for this simple task?” the High Shaman finally said. He kept his tone quiet, and even more menacing as a result.

  “I am afraid not, High Shaman. At least, not so far. However, they are confident that—”

  “They will succeed very soon, yes. This would be the third—no, wait, the fourth time I have been told that. And yet, here you are, saying just that.”

  “She is extraordinarily powerful, High Shaman.”

  “And twenty-six of our most skilled and powerful shamans are not?” the High Shaman shot back, strobing bright red with mounting fury.

  The Herald flinched back. “She is an aberration, High Shaman. She is the offspring of Stellers, and we know that he is very powerful—”

  “I do not want to hear about Stellers and how powerful he is! I want to hear how we are going to turn his extraordinarily powerful daughter into a weapon to use against him!”

  “She does despise him, High Shaman. In some way, when he brought her back from the dead, he caused her pain or grief and turned her against him. She is ready to confront him now.”

  The High Shaman loosed a blast of magical compulsion that drove the Herald back, wailing with terror. “No, she is not! She may hate Stellers now, but there is no certainty! Suppose she confronts him and chooses not to destroy him, but to join with him? Imagine them working in concert. Imagine how the war would play out from that point on.”

  “High Shaman, please—”

  “I will tell you how it will play out. We will lose. We will be destroyed.” The High Shaman flickered with certainty. “No. You do not deploy a weapon of such power unless you are absolutely sure it will not be turned back against you.”

  The Herald said nothing.

  The High Shaman once more let silence linger, but only because he was now thinking. Perhaps the girl’s tenacious resolve went deeper than sheer stubbornness. Stellers was her father, after all. And even if she despised him, the bond of father and daughter might be too strong to easily overcome. She might ultimately be protecting her father on some instinctual level, even if she wasn’t herself aware of it.

  So, perhaps an intermediate objective would be appropriate. Something that they could influence the girl to do that had nothing to do with her father. But it must also be something that would allow the Nyctus to assume more control over her.

  If they had to subsume the girl to their will in increments, so be it.

  “Tāmtu,” the High Shaman finally said.

  The Herald edged his way back toward the dais but looked instantly ready to flee. “I’m sorry, High Shaman. What about Tāmtu?”

  “The planet remains largely as the girl left it. Our brothers and sisters there no longer conform to our ways.”

  “We have been able to influence a few, but the vast majority remain apart from us, yes. The girl changed them, so they are no longer in accord with us.”

  “That must be addressed,” the High Shaman said.

  “We have considered this, High Shaman. However, the time and investment of effort and power would be huge. We would have to cleanse each individual of her influence. And, because of how she’s changed their nature, they will resist.”

  The High Shaman flashed him impatient anger. “I am well aware of this. That is why they must be dealt with all at once.”

  The Herald flickered uncertainty. “I don’t believe we have the means—”

  “Of course we do. We have the girl. She changed them to begin with, so she can change them back.”

  “She seems to consider them her friends, High Shaman. She may resist this as well.”

  “Nonetheless, that is my decree. Tell the collective of shamans seeking to influence the girl to refocus on having her restore Tāmtu, to change it back to the way it should be. That will remove whatever bond she might have with Stellers from consideration, and may make it easier to shape her thoughts as we want them. And if that doesn’t prove possible, then she can simply destroy them.”

  A long moment of silence hung over the audience chamber.

  “High Shaman, that would be—it would be monstrous!” the Herald said.

  “Yes, it would. But we cannot allow Tāmtu to remain as it is. It is a disunity among our people we cannot afford to continue.” The High Shaman turned thoughtful. “Indeed, perhaps destroying Tāmtu is a better goal. If we can cause her to do that, then we will be even further along the path of likewise causing her to destroy Stellers.”

  The High Shaman thought that the Herald, or perhaps one of the advisors or courtiers hovering nearby, might object. He even found himself wishing that they would so he could vent his frustration on them.

  But none of them dared speak out. “I will pass your decree to them immediately, High Shaman,” the Herald said. He backed away from the dais a respectful distance, then turned and fled the great audience chamber. As he did, a hum of restrained discussion rippled among the counselors and advisors and sycophants. The High Shaman knew that they would be digesting this new decree of his, along with his willingness to scour Tāmtu of its rebellious Nyctus. More to point, they would be jockeying, seeking to turn it to some advantage for themselves, or a disadvantage for a rival.

  The High Shaman ignored them, as he always did. Frankly, he’d long since become bored with their plots and schemes and insincere loyalties. He remained focused on what mattered: the girl, and their gaining control over her.

  If they could cause her to bend to their will regarding Tāmtu, then they would be far closer to their true goal of finally destroying Thorn Stellers.

  Morgan felt the Nyctus come at her again, renewing their determined assault on her mind. And, again, she held them at bay, using magic as an implacable shield against their influence. She felt their mounting frustration, which made her a little gleeful. These Nyctus said they were her friends, but they really weren’t. Served them right to try and influence her, to change her.

  She didn’t like it when anyone tried to change her. She was herself, and that was good enough.

  In fact, she thought, maybe she should try and teach these nasty Nyctus a lesson—something they wouldn’t forget. She kept her unyielding shield in place but now reached past it, gingerly poking at the thoughts of the shamans massed against her.

  So many thoughts! And most of them made no sense to her. Of course, she wasn’t a Nyctus, so Nyctus things didn’t make sense to her. Either that, or she just wasn’t interested in them. She poked around anyway to see what she could learn—

  Humans.

  Humans. She knew what those were. She was human. Thorn was human. Mommy and daddy on Nebo were human.

  But who were—

  Danzur.

  Nemaens.

  Bilau.

  Teraghast.

  Kezren.

  Bits and pieces of thought about each tumbled through the minds of the shamans, some as individuals, and some collectively. They all thought about humans, for example, probably because of her. The rest, though, meant nothing to her. From the context, the way the shamans thought about them, they were clearly each other types of people. She even got fleeting impressions, fragmented images attached to each of them. And these weren’t the only ones. There were more, each a different type of people. The one thing they had in common was that the Nyctus knew about and had dealings with all of them.

  Which was interesting, but—

  Wait. No, it wasn’t interesting. It wasn’t interesting at all. So the Nyctus knew about
a lot of different types of people and had dealings with all of them. So what. Who cared?

  Morgan decided to dig a little deeper.

  As she did, she started to see cracks in the collective purpose of the Nyctus shamans. Their cooperative efforts to insinuate themselves into her being were true, but also shallow. Not far beneath it, their motives diverged.

  This one sought power and wanted to ingratiate herself to the High Shaman, whoever that was.

  This one wanted to undermine one of his fellows, who he hated for some past transgression.

  This one simply didn’t want to make another mistake because a recent failing of some sort had left him humiliated and desperate to redeem himself.

  Again, it was all very interesting, but it also wasn’t. Morgan wasn’t sure how she could use any of these things she was learning.

  More to the point, she was tired, and growing bored, and maybe needed to try and find some new friends, ones like those on Tāmtu. She’d begun to miss them. Even through the diffuse, crimson fog of hatred she harbored for Thorn Stellers, she remembered glimmers of that soft Radiance, so calm and comforting.

  Tāmtu must be redeemed.

  Morgan cocked her head. What did that mean—?

  Tāmtu must be cleansed.

  That made her frown. The shamans were suddenly all thinking about Tāmtu, and about how—

  Tāmtu must be restored.

  Or Tāmtu must be destroyed.

  Destroyed? No! The Nyctus of Tāmtu were her friends—

  No. They’re not. They’re Nyctus. They’re of the people. They were lying to you.

  They were not! They loved her, and she loved them!

  No, they don’t. They betrayed you. How do you think we found you?

  No. No!

  Yes. Sadly, it’s true. They were using you. They wanted to keep you from your true purpose.

  My true purpose.

  Which is what? What is your true purpose, Morgan?

  She looked at Mister Starman, glaring at the words ORBITAL NAVY sewn into the patch on his shoulder. My true purpose is . . . to kill him. To destroy him.

  Who?

  Thorn Stellers.

  And the Nyctus of Tāmtu were trying to stop you from doing that. They said they wanted to keep you safe, but really, they just wanted to keep you away from him. And you realize what that means?

  That . . . they’re on his side?

  You are very bright and perceptive, Morgan. Yes, that’s exactly what they were trying to do. They are in league with Thorn Stellers. They weren’t trying to protect you. They were trying to protect him from you.

  Morgan thought about that. It did seem to make sense.

  If you want to punish Thorn Stellers, then first you must do something about those protecting him, Morgan.

  She nodded. Again, that made perfect sense.

  All of it suddenly made perfect sense. And now, she knew what she had to do.

  A sudden satisfaction ran through the thoughts of the shamans. That made Morgan smile.

  She would do things because she wanted to, not because she had to. Nobody—not these Nyctus, not the Nyctus of Tāmtu, and certainly not Thorn Stellers—would make her do anything she didn’t want to.

  Just like that, Morgan realized that she’d beaten the Nyctus. She’d beaten everybody. Thorn Stellers had tried to find her, had engaged in a desperate search helped by Bertilak, and that woman, Wixcombe. She’d known it through Bertilak, her creation, and made it so he couldn’t find her. Now the Nyctus tried to reeducate her, and because she happened to have decided to go along with what they wanted, they thought they’d succeeded.

  The Nyctus shamans suddenly loomed over her, their thoughts poised like an avalanche, ready to come crashing down on her. She made herself not laugh out loud.

  They thought they’d won.

  They were so very wrong. They just didn’t know it, yet.

  4

  Tanner scowled at the belt they’d retrieved from the swamp planet and wrinkled his nose. “Phew. Is there a reason you didn’t clean this thing off, Stellers?”

  Thorn smirked. “I knew you wouldn’t want to subject your crew to something you wouldn’t face yourself, sir.”

  “Yes, well, for future reference, that doesn’t include stink.”

  The XO laughed. She, Thorn, Tanner, and Hackett stood in one of the Hecate’s open cargo bays, which was now repurposed as makeshift secure storage for their strange artifact. It kept the surprisingly fetid object about as far away from an air-recycler intake as one could get aboard the Hecate. Normally, consumable supplies filled it, but it was now almost empty. It drove home how it was diminishing quantities of food and similar stores that normally defined the length of a spaceflight, not expended fuel or munitions. Or, to put it another way, a patrol would last only as long as the supply of toilet paper did.

  The belt Thorn and Bertilak had retrieved from the swamp planet lay on the floor, largely dried out but still reeking of organic decay. Hackett raised a hand.

  “Actually, Captain, I’m the guilty party here. I asked Lieutenant Stellers to not clean this thing off, at least until we have a chance to examine it more closely. I was afraid of cleaning away useful information if we did.”

  Tanner put his hands on his hips. “Fair point. Okay, so what have you learned about it?”

  “It seems to be part of a military harness of some sort,” Thorn said.

  Tanner’s eyes narrowed. “Nyctus?”

  Hackett shook her head. “No, sir. We know enough about their biochemistry that we’d be detecting some easily recognizable signals if it belonged to them. But it’s not human, either. Or Danzur. Or any of the xeno races we know about, for that matter.”

  “The fact you say that with so much certainty tells me you found something on it,” Tanner said.

  “We did. Definite bio-signs.” She shrugged. “Remember, I’m actually a geochemist, with a minor in xeno-paleontology. If we find rocks or fossils, hey, I’m all over it. For this, though, we’d probably learn a lot more if we got it into the hands of some actual xeno-biologists.”

  The XO looked at Tanner. “Maybe we should talk to fleet about expanding our scientific capabilities and bringing some more specialists aboard.”

  Hackett crossed her arms. “Sure. Start with a xeno-biologist. But you’ll also want a geophysicist, an atmospheric scientist, a high-energy particle physicist, a climatologist, a hydro-chemist—oh, and that’s only to deal with planetary stuff. You want to start getting into celestial phenomena, then you’ll need an astrophysicist, an astronomer, a—”

  Tanner held up his hand. “I think we get the point, thank you. The Hecate’s full to her bulkheads with people now.” He glanced at the XO. “I think what Specialist Hackett is saying is that there’s no substitute for a full-blown scientific survey ship.”

  Hackett pointed at Tanner. “The good Captain is correct. There’s this mythical creature called a scientist that comes up with answers to everything, from molecules to galaxies. Fact is, we’re all a lot more specialized than that.” She looked at Tanner. “I took the liberty of sending a message back to Fleet science. They agree this planet is interesting enough that it deserves further, more detailed study. The Max Planck, a planetary survey ship, can be here in about three days. They won’t come into an empty system sight-unseen, though, so the Hecate would have to hang around here at least that long.”

  “Don’t blame them. They’ve probably got some point-defense, and that’s about it,” the XO said.

  Tanner stared at the belt for a moment. “Still no signs of squid activity?” he asked.

  The XO gave her head an emphatic shake. “None within at least ten light years, according to Fleet intel. The Nyctus seem to be otherwise engaged.”

  “Okay, there’s another planet in this system, similar in size and mass to the one we just visited. While we wait for the Max Planck to show up, we’ll go check it out.” Tanner glanced at Hackett. “Meantime, and mindful of the fact that i
t’s not your specialty, do what you can with this thing.” He poked the toe of his boot toward the belt. “I’ve seen big things, major battles, turn on a single bit of apparently minor info. Anything might be useful.”

  Hackett smiled. “Fortunately, sir, and despite what I said, I do have a secret weapon. I can temporarily turn myself into a near-expert in just about any subject.”

  Thorn made a huh sound. “How do you do that?”

  Hackett grinned. “Crack open a book written by an actual expert.”

  The Hecate broke orbit and accelerated away from the planet they’d given the working name of Alpha. Bertilak followed and now kept the Jolly Green Giant on station about a thousand klicks away.

  Alpha. Not a very imaginative name, Thorn thought. There was actually a strict protocol for naming planets and other celestial bodies, but Tanner just wanted something to call these two worlds to distinguish one from the other. So it would take them a full day to make their approach to the second planet, now named Beta, because what else would they call it?

  “Beta’s orbiting just inside the inner edge of the Goldilocks Zone, sir,” the Tac O said. “Another five million or so klicks closer to the star and it would just be a scorched ball of rock.”

  Tanner studied the scanner data repeated onto the console set into his command chair. He pushed up his lower lip in thought for a moment, but his expression turned to a frown as he read one of the entries.

  “There’s even more debris around Beta than there was around Alpha. What’s up with that?” he asked.

  “Sorry, sir, no idea,” the Tac O replied.

  Thorn had anticipated Tanner’s next question and had already done a superficial scrying of the planet.

  “Anything to add, Lieutenant Stellers?” Tanner asked.

  Thorn resisted a smile. Tanner might be predictable, but it was a smart predictability, based on routine and results. By asking for reports from the bridge crew in the same order each time, he made it easier for the various departments to be ready to speak up. Taking someone by surprise when they were tired or stressed just threw more friction into an already complex working environment.