Dying World

by Chris Fox

  Vee shook her head, and I sensed this was an old argument. “Traditions form for a reason. We were given a duty, and guidelines to follow to make that possible. It’s not necessary that we understand everything. We are not to mingle with the groundbound. We must remain hidden, until the time is right.”

  “And when is that time, Vee, if not now?” Kurz finally rose from his bench, and I realized he was taller than me, though leaner, with a frame similar to the one I’d had before donning the armor.

  Emotions battled across Vee’s features, but in the end she nodded up at her brother. “You’re right. We will tell the captain what he needs to know, but I will not compromise my faith beyond that.”

  “Thank you,” I said, as I sensed an opportunity to re-enter the conversation. “I don’t want you to compromise your faith any more than you have. I just want to save what we can.”

  “Then we are of similar minds, Captain.” Kurz offered a respectful nod, so I returned it.

  Vee rubbed her hands together and smiled hopefully at me. “Getting to the bridge won’t be easy. That’s going to mean a plan. I don’t suppose we can eat while we work?”

  I blinked a few times, then realized that I’d not thought to offer our prisoners food.

  “I’m so sorry. Follow me, and we’ll get you something to eat.” I started for the ramp, but stopped outside Arcan’s cell when I realized he’d stood and was staring at me.

  “That’s it?” Arcan gave his trademark sneer. “You have a conversation with a couple of lurkers who killed people you worked with, and now they’re pals? But I try to exert my very reasonable claim of being the best suited for being in charge, and I have to rot in a cell?”

  Damn it. He had a good point, much as I hated to admit it.

  “They’re not guilty of mutiny,” I countered. “That’s a huge difference, Arcan. I know these people are ruthless, but they have skills I need, and they haven’t betrayed me yet. You have. And you and I both know you will again.”

  “You can’t keep me in here forever.” His cyber-eyes whirred menacingly as the irises narrowed to little red dots. “I will find a way out.”

  “Out the airlock, if you keep this up.” I turned from Arcan without another word and headed up the ramp.

  “What’s the story with that guy?” Vee asked as she jerked at thumb in his direction.

  “He’s a real charmer. Arcan helped us get off Kemet, and we owe him for that.” I glanced down one last time as the brig vanished from sight. “He’s right that I can’t keep him in there, but he’s the very last person I want behind me with a gun.”

  “He’ll be trouble,” Kurz offered quietly. His gaze had fallen to the deck again, though it was clear he was listening intently to everything around him. “It would be easier if you spaced him. Or suffocated him and salvaged the cyberware.”

  “You have no idea how tempting that sounds,” I confirmed as we entered the mess and headed for the table in the far corner. “Unfortunately I think we’re going to need him for my plan to work.”

  22

  By the time I had assembled the crew in the mess, both Vee and Kurz had finished gorging themselves on the vanilla protein paste we’d found in the ship’s larder. They sat waiting, Vee with a spot of vanilla paste on one cheek. She glared at my friends confrontationally while Kurz kept his eyes glued to the deck.

  How was I going to get these people to work together?

  “So here’s the plan,” I began, my tone as confident as one semester of public speaking could make it. “We are going to land on a dreadnought surrounded by dense debris, sneak past lurker guards, and make it to the bridge. Once there, Vee and Kurz are going to repair the engines. Then we’ll pilot the ship back to Kemet to rescue the academy, and arrive as big damned heroes of old. I know you’ve got questions. Let’s deal with that, then Dag will pilot us through this mess.”

  The plan sounded ludicrous to me, with failure points everywhere. But they watched me expectantly. All of them.

  “What about my dad?” Rava asked, her jovial manner smothered by the question, and the answer she probably feared. Her leather jacket creaked as she leaned forward in her chair. “Is he involved in this plan? And, uh, if not, what are you going to do with him?”

  “That’s one of my very first questions.” I moved to the holo, and called up an image of the dreadnought we were making for. “When we land we’re going to have to make our way from the aft cargo hold all the way to the bridge. Like all early capital ships, the corridors are wide enough for small vehicles…”

  “…And we just happen to have a rover,” Rava finished for me. Her confident grin was back. “You need my dad to drive the rover and get us to the bridge.”

  “We do.” I nodded. “In exchange, we forgive him for his misguided mutiny.”

  “Oh, come on.” My dad whirred a little closer, and stabbed an accusing finger in my direction. “Arcan is absolutely, one hundred percent going to screw us over the first chance he gets.”

  “No, he won’t.” I folded my arms and met my dad stare for stare. It wasn’t easy, but I knew I was in the right. “We need him, Dag. Arcan will screw us, but not until it aligns with his interests. If we succeed, and take the dreadnought, then he gets a full share of the loot, alongside the rest of the crew. If he screws us over, he dies too.”

  My dad growled low in his throat. “You don’t get it, Jer. We can’t trust him.”

  “Which is why,” I countered as I raised a hand to forestall his protest, “you are going to watch him. When we make our run to the bridge, you ride in the cockpit, and keep Arcan company. Arcan won’t need a sidearm to drive, and I’m sure he’ll understand that you’re only there for his safety.”

  My father adopted a predatory grin. “I stand corrected. Good plan, son. I’ll keep an eye on that snake.”

  “Any other questions?” I turned my attention to the rest of the crew. Rava and Briff were whispering in low tones, and seemed to have missed the entire exchange.

  Vee was watching, and Kurz listening, but neither said anything.

  “All right, let’s do this. Dag, take us out. Vee, will you handle navigation? Or have your brother do it if he’s more qualified?” Issuing the orders was getting easier, and to my surprise both Vee and my father started up the narrow corridor toward the bridge.

  The Remora’s bridge was designed for up to four people, each sitting at a nearly identical terminal. The deck sloped downward into what would be the head of the creature the ship was named for, and the lower tier of stations faced a wide, curved holoscreen that currently displayed the space outside the ship.

  Cramped, but functional. And did I mention ancient?

  My dad moved for one of those terminals, while Vee slid into the other. I dropped into the back row, and watched as my dad expertly guided the craft through pre-flight.

  “You’ve flown a lot?” Vee asked as she studied him from the navigator’s station.

  “Yup.” My dad settled his hands around the manual controls, which were totally alien to me. A spell matrix I could use, but a joystick? Not so much. My dad cleared his throat. “I used to be pretty good, but truth is I’m rusty. Haven’t navigated this part of the fleet since before you were born.”

  The ship rumbled as the Remora’s drive engaged, and we moved smoothly toward the debris field in the distance. My father used a feather touch on the controls, which I’d seen many times over my lifetime. He’d flown Mom to conferences, and had taken me to more than one tourney he’d been competing in.

  Age hadn’t dulled his abilities, and we zoomed around a cracked thruster as he took us into the debris field. We moved slowly, and my dad feathered the thrusters to control the drift. We began to corkscrew at an odd angle, and the fleet spun drunkenly on the monitor.

  To anyone watching we were just one more piece of debris that happened to be floating toward a dreadnought’s gravity well.

  The holoscreen adjusted for the spin before I lost my lunch, and I watched as my da
d guided us around the first derelict vessel, a corvette class that had been stripped right down to the registration.

  “This is the first observation point,” Vee whispered. She reached for her terminal, and the lights dimmed all over the ship. “I am minimizing our heat signature, though if they are watching, odds are good they already spotted our passage.”

  “How can we tell?” I asked. My hands tightened on the console before me, though I was careful not to touch the controls, as they were unfamiliar.

  Vee spun her chair in my direction, her voice a bare whisper. “We cannot. However, if they did see us they may not wish to risk a signal, as they know we will be listening. If they’re lazy they’ll wait to see if we make it back out, then pounce on us to take our salvage and the ship.”

  Hearing such a beautiful woman so callously relate murder and piracy rocked me to the core. I liked Vee, but it was important to remember that we came from different worlds, with very different moral codes. Azure drakes were pretty, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be in a jungle with one.

  “Quiet,” Dag whispered over his shoulder. “Trying to concentrate.”

  I glanced at the holoscreen, and my father had guided us past another vessel, this one a frigate, also picked clean. The debris was getting thicker, and it was taking more micro-adjustments to ensure we didn’t hit anything.

  Something clanged off the hull like the sector’s largest gong being rung, and I winced, then turned to my terminal to see if I could run some sort of damage diagnostics.

  I’m not terrible with computers, just inexperienced, and most operating systems are fairly friendly if you’re patient and read the help screens.

  “Looks like we’re okay,” I said, as soon as a schematic of the ship appeared on my console. “Superficial damage to the hull, but beyond scoring the paint I think we’re fine.”

  “Keep those scans internal,” Vee hissed. She shot me a look that said I should have known better.

  I nodded, and shut down the scanner. I didn’t like being reminded that I wasn’t exactly qualified to be leading this. I was the best we had, though. I firmly believed that. If I really thought someone like Arcan could have guided us through safely I’d have turned over control.

  But he wouldn’t. So I couldn’t.

  “There she is,” Vee breathed as she pointed at the holo.

  I leaned closer and got my first real look at the dreadnought where the armor had come from. Sure, I’d seen it last time we approached, but back then it had just been a scary old hulk. Now it was a potential lifeline.

  “We aren’t the first ones here,” Dag whispered. He nodded up at the holo, his voice hoarse. “That’s an Inuran frigate bolted to the hull right over the bridge. She’ll only hold about twenty-five people, but you can bet all of ‘em will be battle-hardened mages in state-of-the-art gear. Expect spellarmor and potions. If they’re all near our target…we might as well turn around.”

  I shook my head emphatically.

  “And go where? We’re committed. Besides, we have a plan. It will be all right.” I mean, I knew it wouldn’t, but I still hoped I could allay my dad’s fears. “If the plan works, then my magic will keep them from detecting our approach. We’ll get the jump on their position with the benefit of full armor. Even spellrifles aren’t going to puncture that rover, whereas our turret will wreck even the best Inuran spellarmor if they get hit. And I’ve got the Heka Aten armor. We’ll be able to track the Inurans’ movement. We’ll know where they are, and be able to avoid them.”

  My father shook his head. “It’s flimsy and I still don’t like it. There are a lot of if’s in this plan, and I can tell you all about how that turns out.”

  “You have until we land to think of a better option.” I rose and turned from the cockpit. “I’ll get everyone into the rover. Get us docked, then get down there. We’re doing this.”

  23

  My hand shot up and seized one of the rover’s cargo rings as the entire ship lurched. Briff tumbled into the rover’s wall with a grunt, while Rava simply stood there like a Terran sailor weathering a storm.

  Vee and Kurz were both seated and buckled in, probably because they’d expected the rough landing.

  Arcan barked a bitter laugh from the driver’s seat, which was separated from the cargo compartment by a thick metal grate. The holes were small enough to stop a projectile, though they wouldn’t do anything to stop a spell unless they’d been enchanted, which I doubted.

  “Get the engine fired up, Arcan.” I gave the order knowing he’d been about to do it anyway. That had been one of the first leadership lessons my dad had taught me as a kid. Give basic orders that people were going to do anyway, and they’d get used to following you.

  Somehow I didn’t think Arcan would be that easy.

  “Done.” Arcan flipped several switches on the dash, and the rover’s power plant rumbled to life. The high-pitched whine it emitted would carry, but theoretically that was where I came in. Arcan turned back to face me, those scarlet cyber-eyes somehow conveying his judgement. “Change of plan, ‘Captain’. I don’t need a babysitter. We’re going now.”

  Arcan turned back and the rover lurched into motion. We were across the cargo hold, and halfway down the ramp before I could even formulate a response.

  My hand slid down to my sidearm, and I drew the black pistol I’d taken from the dreadnought. I pressed the barrel against a hole in the grate right behind Arcan’s head. My voice was much calmer than I thought I’d be able to manage. “Are you sure you want to do this, Arcan? I’m not big on third chances.”

  “Trust me.” The rover rolled to a halt inside a cavernous cargo bay, maybe the very same one I’d landed in the last time. If it wasn’t, then it was close to identical, which made sense. Arcan flipped another switch, this time activating an audio connection with the Remora. “Dag, we’re changing the plan. We’re going without you. Keep the engines hot. We might have to fall back in a hurry.”

  “Yeah, no,” my father’s snarkiest voice came back through the speakers. “There’s no way I’m trusting you with…my son. Turn that thing around. Right now, Arcan.”

  “Dad,” I called, letting him know I was listening, “do you think Arcan is right about keeping the ship hot as a fallback point?” The barrel of my weapon hadn’t wavered, and Arcan had to be aware of that.

  “Yeah, probably.” My dad hesitated. “It doesn’t change the fact that we can’t trust him.”

  “Rava,” I called, drawing her attention away from the conversation she’d been having with Briff. “Take the turret. Dad, keep the ship hot. Vee, I want you up front covering Arcan. If you suspect him of betraying us, shoot him.”

  I removed my pistol and offered it to Vee. She nodded as she accepted the weapon, then slid the rover’s door open and moved to the passenger’s seat next to Arcan. Kurz watched her go, but said nothing.

  My dad was silent for a long time, and I winced when he finally spoke. It was much better than I’d expected. “Orders received. Good luck in there, team. I’ll keep our ride ready.”

  I settled back into my seat, satisfied with how I’d handled that. “Let’s get moving, Arcan.”

  Arcan gave an amused snort. “At least you can see reason. Just keep us quiet, and I’ll get us there.”

  This next part relied exclusively on me, but was pretty simple when you got right down to it. The camouflage spell I was always using doesn’t have to work on sight. You can choose any sense…which includes sound.

  I closed my eyes and rested my hands on the metal wall next to me. Dream bubbled up from my chest, then flowed into the armor, and finally into the rover. I grunted from the strain, as covering something as large as a rover was much more difficult than blending myself into a wall.

  No visible change occurred, and the people inside could still speak as normal. Anyone outside would hear nothing suspicious. Any sounds we made would be transmuted into sounds you’d expect from a hulk of this age.

  Sustaining the s
pell would take effort, but not concentration. I’d be free to move on to the next phase.

  “We’re good,” I managed through gritted teeth.

  Arcan turned on the headlamps, and rolled up the first corridor. I closed my eyes again, and willed the helmet to slither over my face. Once the HUD lit, I sat down and got to work.

  “Okay, dreadnought,” I muttered aloud. “Why don’t we start with names? I’m aboard, so the interference should be gone. Feel free to introduce yourself.”

  “As you wish.” A translucent grey-scaled hatchling appeared in my vision, a holographic overlay provided by the armor. The hatchling wore armor similar to mine, and carried an ornate dragon-headed staff with a thick silver haft in one hand. “You may call me Guardian. The vessel you are aboard is designated the Word of Xal.”

  I gaped at Guardian. This was so far beyond what I’d expected, but it changed nothing. I had a job to do.

  “Okay, Guardian,” I said, more confidently this time. “I need you to provide an overlay of the area around the bridge. Plot our approach, and take us along the safest route. Our objective is to avoid attention. I want a scan of all lifeforms in the vicinity, and those should be displayed as red dots.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. I hadn’t even finished speaking, and as I uttered each order my overlay shifted to provide the requested data. I could see a cutaway of the bridge and the levels around it, including our route in, which was marked in blue.

  Our destination was marked in gold, and a timer said it would take about six minutes to reach it. That was helpful.

  Several red dots appeared on the bridge, and a half dozen appeared in a cluster just outside of it. The rest were divided into groups of three, and appeared to be patrolling parts of the ship.

  There were also four static locations where trios of stationary dots waited. Each was a major strategic chokepoint, and we were going to have to pass right by one of them.

  “In two minutes,” I said into the comm, “we’re going to reach a T-intersection. I’m marking your maps to show where the defenders are. They shouldn’t hear our approach, but if they react in any way I’ll notify you immediately.”