The Crucible

by Mark Whiteway

  Rahada scoffed. “You’re responsible for bringing the Damise down on us!”

  “That would be Vil-gar, not me.”

  “He’s part of your group.”

  No point lying to an entity capable of roaming freely through my memories. “Vil-gar has a plan. If it succeeds, it could trap the major part of the Damise fleet in the neighbour universe, giving us an opportunity to turn the tables on them.”

  “By using my people as bait.”

  “That’s right. It’s a massive gamble. Worse still, he did it without consulting you. You have a perfect right to be angry. But the truth is that the Damise would probably have found a way to track you down eventually. By then, the Consensus and the worlds of Earth would be under their control, and you’d be totally on your own. At least this way, we all stand a chance of survival, even if it’s slim. Petty revenge won’t help your people. Why not join forces with us against the real enemy?”

  Rahada rested her chin on the back of her hand. Her eyes narrowed. “Take him.”

  The green rabble surrounded Quinn. One hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. Another twisted his arm behind his back. Consensus races would have been dropping like flies from contact with his skin, but this was a simulation. Here, he was powerless.

  Rahada hopped from the boulder and regarded him with an expression of grim satisfaction. “Will’s right. ’E’s one of the sheriff’s men, sent to drive us from Greenwood.”

  The mob replied with a ragged “Aye.”

  “What message d’ya think we should send our sheriff, lads?”

  They responded with a chorus of growls and grunts. Rough hands dragged him backwards. Someone threw a loop of rope around his neck and tossed the other end over a tree limb. The rope tightened, pulling him upright and cutting off his windpipe. He gasped.

  A portly man with a bald crown and friar robes waddled towards him, made the sign of the cross, and mumble in Latin.

  The rope pulled Quinn’s feet off the ground. He felt his face flush and his eyes bulge.

  Rahada smiled. “Witness what happens to those who stick their noses where they don’t belong.”

  Quinn’s neck constricted. Darkness fringed his consciousness as he felt the life squeezed from his body…

  He awoke on the slab in his quarters and sat bolt upright, sweat pouring from every pore.

  ~

  As he rode the transit back to the forward section, Quinn massaged the rope burn on his windpipe and replayed over and over his latest encounter with the rogue Elinare. He kept returning to the same question: why am I still alive?

  The Elinare posing as Rahada had made it clear she held Quinn and his party responsible for the sword of Damocles now hanging over the Haven in the form of an invincible Damise fleet. She saw next to no value in his form of life and had had a perfect opportunity to exact vengeance for the humiliation he’d inflicted on her during her Minotaur re-creation. So why am I still alive?

  Was she toying with him? Or had he simply awoken at the critical moment by chance? He could only hope the answer was something in his favour since nothing prevented her from reprising the scenario and finishing him off.

  Keiza was still trapped in a remote corner of his mind, but he could see no way to help her. All he could do was move forward with his attempt to gain the support of the Shade races.

  The transit’s gull-wing doors hissed open, breaking his train of thought. Trailing a statuesque pair of Badhati, he exited the compartment and headed for the control area.

  Adza and Yahani glanced up at his approach.

  “We are entering the Nemazi system,” Grey trilled. “I was about to summon you. Is everything all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Quinn said. “Do we know what’s happening down on the planet?”

  “We are still too far away to conduct long-range scans. However, the early-warning satellites the Shanata deployed at the edges of the system have not activated. Vil-gar’s energy-dissipation net is working well beyond my expectations. I recommend we power down and institute silent running once we get within ten hochari of the AI-controlled fleet, but I believe we have an excellent chance of slipping past their lines undetected.”

  Quinn tapped his mouth with a forefinger. “No.”

  Adza turned on him. “Excuse me?”

  “As soon as we get within range, we drop the net and go in at full tilt.”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Your suggestion appears most unwise,” Yahani added.

  Quinn regarded each of them in turn. “If we sneak past the blockade, we’ll look weak in the Nemazi’s eyes. To win their support, we have to appear powerful, and that means engaging the fleet on their terms.”

  “Even with Vil-gar’s enhancements, the ship will likely take heavy damage,” Grey said. “We may not survive.”

  Quinn leaned forward. “Everything hangs on our winning the support of the Shades. If we fail, we’re finished.”

  “Your plan requires the approval of the Triumvirate.” Grey waved her tentacles as if in response to an invisible current. “The Osei vote in favour.”

  Yahani towered over Quinn. “Confronting the fleet is a bold move, but your logic is compelling. The Badhati also vote in favour.”

  Adza glanced between them like a hunted animal. “The human seeks to brand me a coward by having me vote down his plan of attack,” Adza growled.

  “You would put pride before the interests of your people?” Yahani said. “You shame yourself.”

  Adza’s gloved fingers twitched as though he were itching to whip out his twin blades and hold them at Yahani’s throat, but his voice, when it came, was steady. “Attack the fleet, then. Attack and be damned!” He turned on his heel and stormed out of the control area.

  ~

  Quinn gnawed his knuckles. The patchwork orange orb at the centre of the tabletop display represented the barren world of Nemazi. The symbols dancing around it might have afforded some clue as to the progress of the conflict raging across its surface, but they were incomprehensible to him.

  Zothan’s spindly arms and legs were crooked as if ready for action. Quinn had asked leave for him to join them; it seemed only right that he should have the opportunity to observe their approach to his home world. Yahani and Grey had raised no objections.

  Quinn was taking a massive risk, but he had little choice. Adza had been right about one thing: even with all Vil-gar’s AI-inspired upgrades, one ship could not hope to combat the entire AI-controlled Consensus. Only the Shade races were free of Damise domination. He had to win their cooperation, no matter the cost.

  “Twelve hundred hochari from the fleet,” Grey announced. “We remain undetected. At what point should we drop the net?”

  Wait till you see the whites of their eyes. “If we hang on till the last moment, our sudden appearance should throw them into a panic.”

  “One hochari?”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “Our engineers have not had sufficient time to build any more ka-horeth,” Grey said. “We have only a reduced complement of zahars and chuthahs.”

  “Understood.”

  “Assuming we make it through the blockade, do you wish to configure for orbit insertion?” Grey asked.

  Quinn pressed his lips together. “I doubt there’ll be time for polite introductions. We should head straight down to the planet.”

  “Reducing speed.”

  “Forgive me,” Yahani said, “but we have no idea of the situation on the surface. We could be overrun by gormgast. Or the Nemazi might attack us, believing we are a part of an invading force.”

  “Do we happen to have a white flag in storage?”

  “A what?”

  Quinn shook his head. “Never mind. Look, I’m pretty sure the Nemazi are capable of figuring out that if the AI ships are firing on us, then we’re not one of them. As for the gormgast… Well, we have nowhere else to go. We’ll just have to take the risk.”

  “My people will likely d
o all they can to assist,” Zothan said.

  If any are still alive down there. Quinn quashed the thought. Nemazi had learned how to thrive on a dead world. They were born survivors. Somehow, they would beat the odds.

  “Curious,” Grey said. “Scans indicate the number of ships surrounding the planet is far greater than expected.”

  “With the rest of the Consensus under their control, the Damise have no doubt been able to assign more AI-controlled vessels to join the blockade.” Yahani’s voice rumbled. “If they detect us, they will have spare vessels to give chase.”

  Grey’s epidermis darkened. “Expired…”

  Quinn frowned. “Pardon?”

  Grey’s voice sounded strangled. “All over the ship… the Osei… our Unity… is being expired.”

  ~

  “What!” Quinn exclaimed.

  The image of the planet vanished, replaced by a schematic of the ship. Yahani’s slender fingers flew over the display. He rattled off a series of clicks in his own tongue that might have been curses.

  Quinn’s patience ran dry. “What’s happening?”

  “I cannot tell. Internal monitors have gone dark.”

  “All of them?”

  “It would seem so.”

  And with the Osei out of the way, Grey can’t link with the Unity to tell us what’s going on. Conor…

  The floor lighting snapped off. Starlight spilled through the clear ceiling, caressing shadows. A blade flashed. Quinn heard a grunt followed by a thud then more grunts of anger or agony. A masked Shanata lunged at him from the darkness, twin blades raised high. Yahani’s mouth opened impossibly wide and exhaled a fine mist. The Shanata gurgled, dropped the weapons, clawed at his eye slits, and collapsed.

  Quinn’s shock faded. He had been on the receiving end of a Badhati breath attack once before, when Tzurel turned on him. Much later, he had awakened on a Damise ship, which suggested the effect was anaesthetic rather than lethal.

  Before Quinn could thank Yahani for saving his life, the control area was bathed in sickly green light.

  “Emergency lighting engaged.” Grey’s voice was thin.

  Green figures moved slowly and in silence, as if underwater. Others lay on the floor or draped across consoles like beached fish.

  A Shanata stepped forward. “Control area is secure.” The voice identified her as female. Dark fluid dripped from her blade.

  “Explain,” Yahani said.

  “Our world is gone, and the AI has absorbed most of those who remain. Bitterness fuels anger. Many are unhappy that the human—the Shanata Tamah—walks among us.”

  Adza—I pushed him too hard. This is my fault.

  “What about the rest of the ship?”

  “Unknown,” the Shanata replied.

  “We are nearly on top of the fleet.” Grey’s voice rose in panic. “We are in no condition to face it. We have to turn back.”

  “No,” Quinn heard himself say. “We go forward with the plan.”

  “First, we must regain control of this vessel,” Yahani said.

  “And what if we can’t?” Quinn snapped. “If Shanata insurgents have taken the remainder of the ship, then we’ll be their next objective. I’m betting you have equipment on board that will cut through that door in no time flat. This is our one and only chance to reach the Shades and turn the tide of this conflict.”

  “What do the Osei say?” Yahani asked.

  Grey’s epidermis rippled with bands of light and dark. “I cannot… help you. The Unity is silent.”

  Quinn recalled linking with the group earlier. To the Osei, their Unity was everything. It governed how they thought, how they functioned. Its sudden removal would be comparable to a human being struck blind. “It’s all right. Just do your best.”

  Grey’s rippling slowed. “The argument is sound.”

  “The Badhati agree,” Yahani said. “Dimitra?”

  The Shanata stiffened at the mention of her name. The stain on her curved blade shone in the starlight like a smile.

  “You have demonstrated loyalty,” Yahani said. “Will you represent your people in Triumvirate?”

  “My… prowess does not warrant such a position,” she replied.

  “Perhaps not, but time is limited, and our options are few.”

  To Quinn’s surprise, she removed her mask. Her cropped black hair emphasised her angular cheekbones.

  Yahani nodded. “Systems?”

  “Aside from the internal monitors, all systems appear to be functioning,” Grey said, her voice hollow. “Contact with the fleet in… eight minutes.”

  ~

  The tabletop display mushroomed into a giant backdrop of space. Dozens of tiny lights hung suspended over the curve of an orange world. The blockade. Their ship was racing towards it. One ship against an armada. Quinn felt like a skier about to be buried by an avalanche.

  One ship… Quinn drummed his fingers on the table. “How fast can this ship manoeuvre during an attack?”

  “We have not fully tested the vessel in its current configuration,” Grey said. “Convergence of any proposed algorithm would need to be formulated as a mixed-integer linear-programming problem.”

  Quinn fought down the feeling of drowning he remembered from high-school math. “You told me that during previous engagements, the AI ships had been slow to react.”

  “The effect was marginal.”

  “Yes, but maybe we could use it to our advantage. If we switched the net off and then on again, might we appear to vanish and then reappear at a different location?”

  “What would be the point of that?” Yahani asked.

  “I don’t know… Maybe we could convince them they were being attacked by more than one ship.”

  “I’m afraid that wouldn’t work,” Grey said. “Every ship has a unique power-output curve. A simple comparison would show it was the same vessel.”

  “Yes, but they’d need time to check. If we drop the net and then loose a full salvo, all their attention would be focussed on defending themselves. By the time they gathered their wits, we’d have disappeared again.”

  “Such a tactic would require random course changes each time we engaged the net,” Grey said. “Even then, the AI will eventually figure out what we we’re doing.”

  “We only need to keep it guessing for as long as it takes to smash through their lines.”

  “You put it to us that the Nemazi would be influenced by a show of strength,” Yahani pointed out. “Now you propose subterfuge.”

  “My people respect strength,” Zothan said. “But they also appreciate guile. Such a display would get their attention.”

  “We need to show them that the AI ships can be outmanoeuvred and defeated,” Quinn said. “But I would also like us to survive long enough to establish the alliance.”

  Dimitra opened her mouth then clamped it shut.

  “You disagree?” Yahani prompted.

  Dimitra stared wide-eyed at the weapon in her hand as if noticing it for the first time. She laid it on the table in front of her and shoved it aside. “It’s just that… even if we make it past the blockade, the insurgents will still break through into the control section, just as you said.”

  “Correct. That’s why the three of you will be leaving, along with Zothan.”

  Yahani towered over him. “Leaving?”

  “When I was last aboard a Shanata vessel, the control area had direct access to an escape capsule. The four of you will descend to the planet and make contact with the Nemazi.”

  “What about you?” Dimitra asked.

  “I have to fetch Conor. If all goes well, I’ll join you on the surface. If not, it’ll be up to you.”

  “I will not leave without you,” Zothan said.

  “I appreciate the offer, my friend, but your place is down there. You’re the linchpin in these negotiations.”

  “Nevertheless, I am staying.” Zothan’s yellow-eyed gaze was as implacable as death.

  Quinn realised arguing till ever
y sun went cold would make no difference. “All right. But when I say we leave, we leave. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  Quinn nodded. “All right, then. Let’s see if we can light up the Nemazi sky.

  ~

  “One hochari,” Grey announced. “Dropping the net. They see us.”

  Quinn’s brows bunched together like hawsers. “Launch zahars. Target the nearest vessels. Then raise the net again.”

  Grey’s tentacles whipped across the holographic display. “Targets acquired. Launching.”

  “Why not use chuthahs?” Yahani asked.

  “I’d rather disable than destroy,” Quinn replied. “We’ll only use chuthahs if we have to.”

  “Mercy?” Zothan rasped. “You would show mercy to our enemies?”

  “Better to put a hornets’ nest to sleep than poke it with a stick, my friend.”

  Zothan angled his head but said nothing. He had never seen a hornet. Did he understand the reference from their blending in the time vortex during Quinn’s first visit to Nemazi, or was he simply exercising blind faith?

  “Net reestablished,” Grey said. “Altering course. The AI ships did not return fire.”

  Dimitra’s eyes widened. “It’s working.”

  Let’s hold off on the celebrations. Quinn pointed at a scattering of pinprick lights. “Those are their ships?”

  “That’s right,” Yahani said. “The three shown in red are now adrift, drained of power.”

  “I want to do a second pass, closer this time. Can we reduce the time we’re visible?”

  “I will try,” Grey said. “Coordinates acquired… Dropping net… Zahars away… Raising net now… Altering course.”

  “Five more ships disabled.” A worry line creased Yahani’s forehead. “Odd.”

  Quinn leaned forward. “What’s the matter?’

  “The active vessels have still not powered their weapons.”

  “Maybe we were too fast for them?”

  “Perhaps…” Yahani’s voice trailed off as if he weren’t convinced.

  “Look!” Dimitra pointed at the control-section doors. A crimson patch glowed at the centre.

  Quinn’s mouth quirked. “All right, we’re about to have company. Time to punch through the blockade. Head for the centre of the disabled group, best speed. As soon as we’re through, you three take the lifeboat and head down to the surface.”