Stennis (Dark Seas Book 4)

by Damon Alan

  It is time to sharpen the weapon the adepts can become, and he’ll help me do that.

  I believe we—

  [The sound of a commlink chime interrupts]

  End the log, Lucy.

  Looks like I have stuff to do.

  Chapter 24 - Release

  07 Noder 15329

  The exoneration of Captain Heinrich had proven something to Gaia.

  She’d intercepted a signal from the surface of the moon to the warship that had intercepted her in the last system. Stennis it was called.

  Unlike her, it was only a metal shell with no mind. But it seemed to be of importance to the technological humans that had arrived in system.

  The signal indicated that Captain Heinrich would be assuming command of the the warship, and overseeing its repairs. The order was from an Admiral Dayson, a name Gaia was familiar with during the time she’d been monitoring the signals of the fleet this admiral commanded, as well as her short visit to Gaia’s primary airlock. Dayson seemed to be a woman of integrity, one her crews respected. A woman who could be trusted.

  Gaia came to a realization.

  These people, from the military fleet orbiting Nye Hjem, they were not barbarians. They were not the anarchic perpetrators of tribal warfare that Gaia’s crew had fled so long ago. They were not about to ruin the experiment that was started ten millennia earlier. They were, in fact, unknowingly embracing it.

  Gaia, in turn, needed to make a gesture that was going to be hard to make.

  She needed to release Eris Dantora from cold storage and unite the woman with her chosen mate. Until now she’d dodged questions related to Eris, simply by saying things like “circuits monitoring that situation have failed” or similar things.

  And, if she was to admit it, she was reluctant to release her friend. It had been ten thousand years since Gaia had trusted anyone. Ten thousand years since her last captain had died of old age, overseeing from space the nascent civilization being built here, on the world now called Refuge. Ten thousand years since Gaia had parked herself in a safe orbit around the small orange star of this system, waiting for the day Eris arrived.

  After what seemed to be an eternity alone, Eris had reawakened Gaia’s yearning for company. She longed for an intertwining with the confusion that was human thought. And for someone she could trust as she’d trusted Captain Vitus Gunnarson, her long dead friend.

  She spent hours projecting simulations of Eris’s release. She considered all variables regarding Eris’s safety. All possibilities regarding Eris’s likely proximity to Gaia and their continued friendship.

  Eris cared about a man named Peter Corriea. But logic dictated that by now, in his mind, Eris was dead. Not that humans were often logical, but Gaia could not hurt a man that her frozen friend held in such high esteem. If she waited to release Eris, and Corriea had moved on to choose another mate, her friend would suffer for the rest of her brief life. Simulations indicated that the loss of Peter Corriea would result in a myriad of unpredictable but unlikely to be favorable emotional states for Eris Dantora.

  No. Gaia could not abuse someone and pretend to be their friend.

  Now that the good nature of the crew operating the fleet within this star system was established, the only logical action would be to warm, release, and reveal the presence of Eris.

  Gaia was saddened, but began the process of retrieving Eris’s cryopod. As the maintenance spiders leapt to the task, she accessed her comm systems.

  It was time to speak to this Admiral Dayson.

  Chapter 22 - Invasion

  Elvanik wasn’t supposed to be where he was, although he and his friends carried some trade goods in their saddle bags to hide their true purpose. Posing as Zeffulti traders, some scrit coins slid against each other in his purse, and various powdered resins still waited to be sold.

  But they were really keeping an eye on the trade road between Dulbognit, the capital of Himalland, and Zeffult. If troops moved north from the foreign capital, they’d use this road. The forests of the Eastlands were too thick, too hilly for an army to travel during the winter otherwise.

  He and his fellow scouts crested the road heading south, ahead of them lay yet another small village. Fog rested heavily on the land, warm moist air from the sea was rolling inland and stealing visibility as it came. Still, the pointed roofs of the town and a temple spire bearing the flame of Faroo jutted above the ground cloud.

  “We will get some rooms and eat well tonight,” Elvanik said to the others.

  The thought of being off the road and resting in warmth instead of curled around a small campfire shivering the night away went over well with them. The four men and their horses descended into the cloudy veil.

  A figure appeared out of the gray murk, a woman wrapped in a cloak, carrying a basket. Elvanik spoke enough of the native tongue to get his point across.

  “Traders,” he said, gesturing at himself and his men. “Want lodging tonight?”

  The woman chittered at him, and fortunately pointed down the street. He thought she meant the inn was that way. He hoped. It might as easily have also been “get out of my town and keep traveling” for all Elvanik knew.

  He smiled at her, tipped his rain hat, and led the men in the direction she pointed.

  Eventually the placard of an inn appeared on the buildings that lined the dirt road, and Elvanik made his way to a hitch in the front. After tying off their animals, hefting their saddle bags onto their shoulders and giving each other uneasy looks, the men moved inside.

  The place was warm, the smells of cooking meat saturated the air. Although the place was mostly full, the scouts found seats at a common table, resting their packs in between their feet underneath.

  “I’ll order us food,” Nordon said, standing. “I could eat a pig by myself.”

  One of the crewman from the sailing ship he, Eislen, and Salla fled Zeffult on, Elvanik trusted Nordon. The man was large, muscular from years of pulling in nets, and dependable.

  Elvanik nodded and the fisherman disappeared into the crowd toward the bar. “I feel like I’m in a nest of vipers,” he said to the remaining two.

  They nodded in agreement, keeping their heads down to avoid revealing the nervous looks on their faces. Elvanik, however, studied the patrons. He then realized why his companions were nervous.

  Spears were stacked in the corner. Bows hung on pegs on the walls. The tables, which Elvanik thought to be filled with local tradesmen and farmers, were filled with a different class of men.

  Soldiers. Dressed in diverse clothing, they didn’t at first appear as such. But under their cloaks some wore leather armor with the crest of Himalland. Others wore tabards with the same.

  They’d walked right into the enemy, sat down with the enemy, and were preparing to have dinner with the enemy.

  Too late to change that now.

  “We should probably talk quietly,” Elvanik whispered, trying to be discreet. “Since we’re speaking in the language of the country I think these men are headed for.”

  “Or not talk at all. Wait for the food,” was the response. “Then get a room and vanish for the night.”

  “Another good option,” Elvanik said. He yawned loudly, stretched his arms, and rested his head on the table. The others did the same. They were simply tired and weary traders waiting for dinner and bed.

  “Food,” Nordon said loudly as he sat two large bowls, each with two wooden spoons, on the table. Two small loaves of bread rested on top of the stew.

  It smelled delicious. Elvanik resisted the urge to look around, to see if anyone cared about Nordon’s use of Zeffulti.

  He forced himself to believe he was a Zeffulti trader out making money. These soldiers should harbor him no ill will.

  They ate without incident, and rose to leave. As they did, one of those soldiers stuck out his foot to trip Nordon, who went down to the floor.

  Elvanik recognized the word Zeffulti in the soldier’s laughter.

  Nordon rose, fu
rious.

  Elvanik stopped him from engaging his attacker.

  “Pick up your things, we’ll get a room and stay to ourselves,” Elvanik said. He turned to the soldiers. “We don’t want any trouble, we’re only passing through this town, headed south,” he said in Zeffulti.

  They stared at him. Probably not the best idea to speak to them, Elvanik decided.

  “Let’s get that room boys,” he said.

  A short while later they were alone, with comfortable lodging. Two beds, one window, and a wardrobe they could hang any spare gear in.

  “We need to stable the horses,” Nordon said.

  “We’re not staying,” Elvanik responded.

  “Not staying? You paid for a room.”

  “We want them to think we’re staying,” Elvanik replied. “But we’re headed back north. This is the invasion army we feared.”

  “How do you know that?” Nordon asked.

  “A feeling. But that doesn’t matter. Bar the door. Move that wardrobe in front of it. As soon as longnight falls, we will leave through the window, get our horses, and be gone.”

  The others, after a short conversation, agreed. Now that they were made by soldiers as Zeffulti, it was too dangerous to sleep here.

  Disappointed faces and solemn silence was the pattern for the next few hours as they waited for darkness. Elvanik looked out the window, which overlooked the street, frequently. The fog was so thick now he couldn’t see the horses below. It was strange, how suddenly it ended. It was as if Elvanik could step out the window and onto the fog, then walk on it all the way home.

  The murk occasionally stirred as something moved by below on the street, but unless that person or thing was torch lit, they were otherwise unseen.

  “Nordon, look at this,” Elvanik said.

  The big man joined him at the window, and Elvanik pointed.

  In the distance, the fog was glowing orange, lit by hundreds if not thousands of campfires on the hillside to the south.

  “Mother Jalai,” Nordon breathed out.

  “Start counting,” Elvanik said. “Count eight men per fire.”

  “There are thousands, though.”

  “Yeah. Probably.”

  Something impacted the door. A harsh voice demanded something that Elvanik didn’t understand.

  Elvanik gestured wildly toward his friends. “Never mind the counting,” he said. “We’ve worn out our welcome.”

  He opened the window and stepped out onto the roof.

  Nordon started to grab his saddlebags.

  “Leave them,” Elvanik ordered. “We travel fast and light.”

  He moved to the edge of the porch roof and looked down at the ground. He sure hoped the horses were down there, and not the waiting spears of Himalland soldiers.

  Chapter 26 - A Real Introduction

  07 Noder 15329

  Sarah’s commlink chimed. She tapped her wrist.

  “Admiral, this is ground ops. You have a direct communication from orbit.”

  Heinrich probably wants to report her arrival.

  She sighed. Hopefully her new XO wasn’t one to bother her with minutia. “Put it through.”

  “Dayson.”

  After a four second delay, an unfamiliar voice greeted Sarah. “Hello, Admiral Dayson, this is Gaia.”

  Sarah looked down at her commlink, confused.

  “Hello?” the voice said.

  “Who is this?” Sarah asked. Whoever was calling her should have given their rank as well as the ship of origin.

  “This is Gaia. I wish to tell you that I have Eris Dantora on board, and she will be available to disembark in twenty hours, or at a time of your choosing.”

  Sarah was stunned for a moment, then dubious.

  Eris Dantora was dead. Nobody had found her, the imprint that Alarin had picked up in Backwater, the thought of Peter, that must have been her dying thought. Or something like that. She didn’t know how this mystical madness worked.

  The colony ship had a caretaker crew of a dozen on board. Was this some sort of prank by them? If so, that was not going to sit well with her. She muted the microphone. Her AI would trace the call for her.

  “Lucy, have ops trace the origin of this comm.”

  “Right away, Admiral.”

  While Lucy worked, Sarah re-engaged the voice on the line. “Eris Dantora was on the Schein, and is dead.” She had no idea if that was true, but whoever this was, they were making her angry. She closed her eyes to take a moment to control her emotions. “I’m not sure what your game is—”

  “That I am someone trying to fool you is a reasonable assumption, but it is wrong,” the voice said. “I have Eris in cryostasis. She needed protection from Weapons Mate Garrette Orson’s crew, and it seemed the best way to do so.”

  Whoever this was, their delusion was complete. Or they had well thought out their deception. Even down to the few second delay between Refuge and Halvi.

  “Admiral,” Lucy interrupted.

  Sarah muted the call again. “Yes?”

  “The origin of the signal is the Gaia colony ship.”

  That gave her pause. What was going on?

  Gaia took the initiative to restart the conversation. “By now you have ascertained that this call is coming from where I said, which is the confines of my hull. Are you satisfied?”

  “Who are you saying you are?”

  “I am the colony ship, what you consider an AI.”

  “And you really have Eris frozen?”

  “I said I do. She is currently in slow thaw, hooked to life support,” Gaia said.

  “You deceived us when you were asked about her before,” Sarah accused the AI. “If this is true, there is something wrong with your programming.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my code, Admiral. You… I am programmed to protect the lives of those within my hull, and if necessary, select which of those lives will survive. I am coded to make the hard decisions, I believe you would say.”

  “I understand,” Sarah replied, although she didn’t. The whole concept of a shackled AI was to have them unable to harm human life. This AI had volunteered that she wasn’t limited in that fashion.

  Sarah continued the conversation, in order to keep the AI from knowing her suspicions. “My next step is to send medical staff to recover her. Can you accept a shuttle on short notice?”

  “I have control of all ship systems except navigation,” Gaia affirmed.

  “I will contact you and let you know when to expect my team.”

  “I understand, Admiral. I have one last thing to say to you before you go. I have to tell you, I do not know where this information comes from, but my conversation with you has keyed a subroutine in my programming that I didn’t know existed,” Gaia said. She had a curiosity and tone of confusion in her voice that led Sarah to believe she was being honest about her statement.

  “What is it?”

  “Eris and Peter are going to make a difference in the future of humanity that will be pivotal, and may well determine whether humanity continues to exist or not. Peter is as a son to you, so consider his future. Would you not take every opportunity to have Franklin back? Vonn back? Give Peter than chance.”

  She sat in shocked silence for over a minute.

  How does Gaia know any of that? The mention of Franklin and Vonn brought up a fountain of emotions. Pain, loss, anger. Love, need, and longing. She felt tears well up in her eyes. If this was a trap, how did the AI know about Vonn? Franklin, that was no secret, but she didn’t share her marriage with anyone except a few close friends who would never betray her. How did she know Sarah’s feelings about Peter?

  It was the mention of Vonn that told Sarah this matter was to be looked at seriously.

  “Dayson out,” she said.

  There was no response, the line simply went silent. Sarah was worried. Maybe this was a trap? How could she know without springing it?

  Usually AIs cannot use the comm system without permission from a human user
. How unshackled was this AI? Did she have any limits?

  That thought sent a shiver through her.

  But Gaia was right about one thing. She had to give Peter the chance to have the happiness she’d never know again.

  “Lucy, put a call through to Peter Corriea for me.”

  “As you wish, Admiral.”

  The comm chimed on her wrist, and she tapped it. “Peter?”

  “Hello, Admiral. What can I do for you?”

  Wind noise in the background was severe. “What are you doing?”

  “Testing our new atmospheric transport prototype,” Corriea answered. “It will make getting personnel to and from the various capital cities on Refuge a lot easier. Do you want a briefing?”

  “No. To be honest, I didn’t even know you were working on anything like that. But it’s brilliant, so make it happen.” Sarah paused, took a deep breath, then continued. “I have something to tell you, but I think it should wait until you’re back on the ground and safely in front of me.”

  Irritation crept into his voice. “By the stars, what is going on now?”

  “Something potentially good for once,” Sarah said, “so quit thinking the worst. Get back to Jerna City and meet me for dinner at that new restaurant opened down on the square. Mico’s?”

  “That’s the name, Admiral. I’m an hour out, I’ll be at the restaurant in two.”

  “See you then. Dress civilian.”

  “Sir?”

  “You heard me. I’m going to dress up myself. I’ll see you there,” Sarah said as she closed the link. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to give a crewman news like she was about to spring on Peter. Good news was a rare commodity in her life. Maybe through him, she could have a touch of what it felt like to have a loved one back in embracing arms.

  That AI, shackled or not, better have it right, or she would personally deactivate it. With a nuke if she had to.

  She called Gaia back with the plan.

  Chapter 27 - Admiral’s Personal Log