“So an Umberian ship has appeared again. They must be suicidal.”
“Indeed. Word on the freqs is that they were using projectile weapons, but that they had an effective invisibility shield. There’s even an unsubstantiated rumor that the occupants were not Umberian.”
“But the ship is Umberian.”
“Yes, sir, I obtained a copy of the energy signature myself. I put the file in your folder. You should look at it.”
Aldebaran turned on his computer monitor, illuminating his face with a blue glow. He was an Umberian in his forties, with a black goatee and eyes that stared unblinkingly. His hair was short-cropped and he wore the jacket of the long-since decimated Umberian military. The jacket meant nothing to him now. It was just a piece of clothing.
“This energy signature is the same as ours. This ship has the same engine we do.”
“That’s the conclusion I reached, too, sir.”
Aldebaran calmly stood up. “Set a course for Residere Beta, maximum speed.”
“Aye, sir.”
“I’ll be on the bridge shortly.”
Harrish bowed slightly and exited. Aldebaran sat down again, and began to think. There had been only a handful of Mark XVIIs to escape the Zendreen. As far as Aldebaran knew, none of them were manned by the Umberian military. Despite the impossible odds, the Umberian Solar Defense Force had fought to the last man during the invasion. For a Mark XVII to return after ten years was puzzling, and as he’d mentioned to Harrish, borderline suicidal. Aldebaran quickly reached a conclusion. The crew of the ship in question was very probably not Umberian, and also very probably not aware of just how dangerous it was to be gallivanting around the Nebula in an Umberian military fighter craft. The ship had probably been sold or captured by someone else. Any Umberian lucky enough to escape the Zendreen would never return.
Any Umberian lucky enough to escape Aldebaran would never return.
__________
“I waited too long for this. I shouldn’t be so rough on myself.”
Fernwyn arrived back at the table first, with Nathalier joining her seconds later. They were on level five of the Complexium, which housed a few of the more expensive restaurants. It was well past the lunch hour there, so the pair had their choice of tables. Fernwyn chose one in a corner created by a restaurant and an elevator. Nathalier sat down and turned his nose up at Fernwyn’s meal.
“How can you stand that stuff?” he asked.
“Just because I don’t look like your typical Residerian doesn’t mean I didn’t grow up here,” Fernwyn replied.
“Bah. That stuff is too spicy. Try some of mine.”
“No thanks, I heard them kill your food on my way back to the table.”
“I insist.”
Nathalier pushed his tray towards Fernwyn.
“It’s those furry ears of yours, right? You don’t seem to hear... oh...”
Sliding the tray halfway off of the table, Fernwyn allowed a data disc to drop into her lap. She pocketed it with her left hand as she took a forkful of whatever animal was on the plate.
“Not bad,” she said. “I only hope that it doesn’t end up validating the lie I told to my boss to come here today.”
“You’re supposed to be at work?”
“Uh huh.”
“I’d be careful with that. You’re certainly not making any friends elsewhere in the SPF.”
“Just between us, I’m getting a little fed up with the SPF. Here we have a case that is obviously quite important, and they’re letting the Black Crest prevent us from doing the job.”
“It’s politics. Today it’s the Black Crest, next it will be somebody else. In a free society the police will always feel the influence of affluent groups. Money is more powerful than good will.”
“True, but this time I’m dealing with a potential violation of the peace treaty between the SUF and the Zendreen. It’s in the best interest of the Black Crest to stand aside.”
“Not when they’ll accomplish the same thing you would and get paid for it. If they collect on the bounty, then the problem goes away, right?”
Fernwyn tapped her fork on her plate absent-mindedly, and gazed around the court. “The Black Crest has always been an off-shoot of the Rakhar Empire, even if they don’t pretend to be interested in ruling over anyone. Do you really think they have any real affinity for the SUF? Don’t you think they’d ally with the Zendreen if they thought it was in their best interest?”
“I think you’re overestimating the Crest’s desire for galactic glory, Rylie. They stand to make a lot more money within a system of government like the SUF. There aren’t too many business opportunities in a communist dictatorship like the Zendreen, and they don’t share power with anyone. If the Crest did arrange a new system of government as allies of the Zendreen, it would probably be a thinly-veiled overture to war.”
“Do you think the Black Crest could win a war with the Zendreen?”
“No, which is why your theory is unfounded. It’s the collective strength of the SUF that keeps the Zendreen at bay.”
“Still, as I mentioned before, the Zendreen could be looking for an excuse to wage war with us. That’s why I need to find out what this Umberian ship is up to. At the very least it could get me the promotion I’m looking for.”
“What would you rather be doing?”
“I’d rather be a detective! Isn’t it obvious? In fact, it’s bitterly ironic that all this sneaking around could get me fired even though I feel it’s necessary towards a promotion.”
“It’s ironic, yes, but it’s only bitter to you.”
“I suppose.”
“You’ve got the smarts to be a detective, so I say go for it. You look better in street clothes anyway.”
Fernwyn smiled. “Thank you.”
The pair allowed the conversation to lapse as they caught up on eating. Fernwyn looked at Nathalier after a few minutes.
“You’re not a typical Rakhar, you know that?” she said.
“At least I look the part. I can only imagine what life has been like for you as a genmod.”
“Did you know I was the first genmod considered a complete success?”
“No, I did not.”
“Yeah, I’m in the history books. Fernwyn D. Rylie, daughter of Hal and Merryl Rylie of Residere Beta. Look it up.”
“I will. Listen, Rylie, are you sure you want to go this alone?”
“It’s easier for me to work alone.”
“I might be able to open some doors for you.”
“My shuffling license is still valid. I have more connections than you might imagine.”
“What about combat? Things could get hairy, if what happened here is any indication.”
“I can handle myself. My ship is armed to the teeth, too. I’m not worried about the Umberians or whomever. Except...”
“Except what?”
“Remember Aldebaran?”
“What do you mean, remember Aldebaran? Mothers still tell the stories to children to keep them in line. I’m as likely to forget about Aldebaran as I am to forget my own name.”
“And yet you hadn’t considered his stake in all of this.”
“True enough. I guess enough time has passed.”
“Well, then, what’s he the most famous for?”
Nathalier leaned back in his chair, nodding solemnly. A response was not necessary.
“I always thought you were brave, Rylie,” he said. “Now I wonder if you’re not simply insane.”
“You know what’s going to happen to these people if Aldebaran finds them before I do. The Black Crest is no doubt thinking the same thing, except they only stand to lose the corral money.”
“And you only stand to lose a potential promotion. Going up against Aldebaran means losing your life, too. You may have to accept the runner-up prize of knowing that the SUF-Zendreen treaty will be safe.”
Fernwyn began to tap with her fork again.
“What are you thinking?” asked Natha
lier, reaching for a toothpick in the condiment tray.
“I wonder if we can play the Zendreen off of Aldebaran.”
“You mean assuming the Zendreen want these people alive.”
“Well, yeah.”
“I don’t think it would make any difference.” Nathalier picked at his white fangs. “The Black Crest is operating as the Zendreen’s agent here in the Residerian system for a reason. The Zendreen don’t want to violate the treaty, either, at least not in an overt fashion. If capturing the ship intact is their goal, they’ll have to rely on the Crest. If they send so much as one of their own vessels into this star system, they’ll commit an act of war.”
“Then it’s a three-sided race. The Black Crest versus Aldebaran versus me. The mercs will stop at nothing because they’ve already had their nose bloodied by these folks, which amuses me greatly by the way. Aldebaran will stop at nothing because he’s Aldebaran. I’m the only one who’s willing to give these people a fair shake. If they truly are working for the liberation of Umber then as far as I’m concerned they deserve our help.”
“For the love of the core, Rylie, are you really that naive?”
“I beg your pardon, sergeant?”
“What are you, twenty-seven years old?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Weren’t you paying attention to current events in college? I know I was. The Zendreen took advantage of the political situation in the nebula and invaded Umber knowing that the SUF wouldn’t raise a finger to object. If Umber and the SUF had been united they could have repelled the Zendreen invasion entirely, albeit after one hell of a fight.”
“I remember my history, Nathalier.”
“Then you should see the obvious here. It’s not just the influence of the Black Crest that is keeping the SUF, and by extension, you and the SPF away from the investigation. If the ship is really working for the Umberian underground, the SUF has a vested interest in seeing that their mission fails. They won’t stand in the way of the Black Crest because they know perfectly well what will happen if they piss off the Zendreen!”
A couple of people walking by looked over at the table, and Nathalier forced himself to speak softly again.
“The SUF refused to help the Umberians ten years ago because they were afraid of them and their advanced technology. They twisted their arm in the political arena and got them to sign a non-aggression pact with the other member planets. The SUF may not have wanted Umber to be invaded; I’m sure they weren’t vindictive or anything. However, when the Zendreen did show up the SUF did the only thing they could to survive, and stayed neutral in the conflict while signing a peace treaty with the Zendreen.”
“Damn it, I said I remember my history!”
“Then think about it for a minute, Rylie. Think about what that means for your promotion potential. Finding this ship may get you promoted, yes, but only if you do the opposite of what your conscience is telling you.”
Fernwyn slumped back in her chair. “Shit. I’m not a third party to this at all. Even if I find these folks, what the hell am I supposed to do with them?”
“Even I can’t recommend helping them, Rylie. You’re messing with the status quo of the entire Tarantula Nebula. If you help them you may start another war. I don’t know about you, but I don’t favor the idea of Zendreen landlords for the Complexium.”
Fernwyn’s expression was grim. “Sometimes I think that Residere was better off under the Rakhar Empire.”
Nathalier smiled. “If that were true today, you’d be about two hundred pounds heavier right now, and I’d be a soldier instead of a security guard.”
“There is another possibility.”
“Oh?”
“Remember that we were speculating that it was another alien race that was helping the Umberians?”
“Uh huh.”
“If this ship is just a scout, meant to recon the situation, obtain Talvanium, and return to home, then we might expect a liberation fleet at some point in the future.”
“That’s a reasonable assumption.”
“So if an alien fleet capable of liberating Umber comes along and actually repels the Zendreen, how do you think a free Umber is going to feel about the SUF?”
“None too pleased, I would imagine.”
Fernwyn stood up. “Residere voted for the Umberian non-aggression resolution the same as the other SUF member planets. They’re just as guilty of abandoning Umber to the Zendreen as the rest of them. I’m going to find these people one way or the other. If there’s a major shift of power on the way for the nebula, I want to make sure Residere is on the right side this time.”
15.
“Thank God that nightmare is finally over!”
Dana flew down the steps to the cargo bay and hit the button to open the ramp. She could barely catch her breath as the ramp slowly lowered, revealing the desert and the town of Metzqual beyond. Her five friends were gathered at the base of the ramp, and were waving goodbye to a Z'Sorth with two Wolrasi. John was the first to turn around.
“Hi, Dana,” he said. “How’s it going?”
“Jesus, you had me worried. Did you get the Talvanium?”
The others turned and walked up the ramp. They were all smiles, but looked exhausted.
“Sure did. We made some new friends, too.”
“The mission may have been a success,” began Christie, “but that was the hardest two days of my entire life.”
“Seth, play Sabotage, volume thirty percent.”
The unmistakable sound of The Beastie Boys filled the cargo bay.
“You must be in a good mood,” said Dana.
“It’s good to be back.”
“I’m going to take a shower, eat something, and take a nice long nap,” said Ari, dropping her backpack.
“I smell gunpowder,” Dana said with a raised eyebrow.
“The local freaks had to give us a reception,” said Ray.
“We did alright,” said Richter, unlimbering his rifle.
The team put down their gear. Tycho came down the stairs and happily greeted Christie.
“Did you manage to get the full amount?” asked Dana.
“I think so,” replied John. “Seth, read the Talvanium in the cargo bay and tell us how much there is.”
“One hundred forty point two five pounds,” Seth replied.
“How soon can you start on the new weaponry?”
“There are several logistical problems we must address first.”
“Okay. Everyone, take some time to get yourselves cleaned up. I’m going to consult with Dana and Seth and figure out our next move. Meet in the conference room in an hour. I know we want to get some sleep as soon as possible, but let’s make sure we’re all squared away first.”
“Sounds good,” said Ray.
John passed his rifle to Ray and gestured for Dana to lead the way upstairs.
“I guess Byron is too busy to welcome us home,” said John as he climbed.
“We have another problem with Byron,” growled Dana.
“Oh, shit. What happened?”
At the top of the stairs, the pair opened the door to the bridge and entered. Friday leapt down from the console and greeted John.
“We forgot to lock out the ramp controls.”
“Oh! He didn’t make a run for it, did he? Hello, sweetie...”
“No, but he did try to go for a little stroll. I don’t think he was trying to escape. He didn’t run from me when I went after him. I had to use force to get him to come back inside, though.”
John checked the systems at a station. “How much force?”
“I cracked him a good one on his shoulder blade with the butt of a rifle.”
“Ouch.”
“That was two days ago. I haven’t spoken to him since I locked him in the cargo hold.”
“You were the only one Byron hadn’t played yet. I hadn’t thought about it before; if I had I wouldn’t have so readily left him alone with you.”
“I can h
andle myself.”
John used his sleeve to wipe some dust from a screen. “Obviously. I meant that we might have considered locking him up before we left, that’s all. It’s only natural that he would have tested your limits if he had the chance.”
“Now he knows.”
John looked at Dana and smiled. “Damn right.”
Sitting down in the pilot’s chair, John stretched his legs. Dana leaned against the console.
“Okay, Seth,” began John, “what do we have to do to install the new weaponry?”
“First of all, the invisibility shield must be deactivated. Second, the installation will compromise the internal pressurization, so it must be done from planetside. Once those conditions are met the installation will take but a few moments. Material from the rear thirty and extra hull material not being used will be sufficient for construction. I will attempt to communicate the control programs to your Earth systems but certain interpolations may require Ari’s help.”
“Wait a minute, what extra hull materials?”
“The space that will be occupied by the energy rails and laser emitters will be sufficient.”
“Oh. That works well, then. Where should we go for this? All of the buffer zones on Alpha are near population centers, so we can’t deactivate the shield here.”
“Why not Beta?” asked Dana.
“The Solar Police Force is most likely still looking for us so I don’t think camping out near their largest bases of operation is such a good idea.”
“That reminds me,” Dana began, “I came up with a program that modifies our energy signature.”
“That’s great! How does it work?”
“It simply changes the waveform output of the engine harmonics. It’s kind of like installing a custom muffler or fuel injector.”
“Congratulations, Dana, you did it. I’ll put you in for a raise next quarter.”
Dana laughed. “Thanks, but all I did was ask Seth the right question.”
The Tarantula Nebula Page 19
