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Defiance: (The Spiral Wars Book 4)

Page 29

by Joel Shepherd


  Such hostages were called Ashara, and Gesul had now taken Aristan’s Ashara as a member of his own party. For this alone, Aristan was justified to purge the Domesh of Gesul and all his followers, for Gesul had not merely taken a prized possession, he had taken Aristan’s insurance against the possible bad behaviour of Phoenix. That Aristan had been about to dispose of this insurance anyway, as he’d been about to do for Phoenix, was of no consequence — this was now a battle of appearances, for while the loyalties of the existing faithful were usually guaranteed unto death, the loyalties of those yet-to-phase were still to be decided. Should any party disgrace themselves now, or be disgraced by a more formidable opponent, the newly-phased would swing their way, and their followers would increase at their rival’s expense.

  As Lisbeth understood it, parren factional disputes became progressively more bloody the lower down the scale they took place. Wars between the five great houses were the most terrible in casualties, but were also the most rare, as parren society structured itself around those existing divisions, and mostly kept the rival sides functionally distant from each other. Wars between the denominations that divided each house were less terrible, as houses typically did not wish to burn down the very foundations upon which all the presently-phased existed… and obviously, with only one house involved, the turmoil would not spread beyond that one-fifth of all parren. It was the wars within denominations, Gesul now said with grim foreboding, that were often the worst, as all the lines of allegiance and loyalty were shattered, and people accustomed to living in each other’s pockets, and attending to each other’s lives, were torn one from the other.

  Tobenrah was now betting, as Lisbeth understood it, that Aristan’s move in the Kunadeen was dangerous and destabilising enough that it granted him the right to interfere in Domesh affairs as he would never have dared before. Without that good excuse, such a move could only have made Aristan more popular from sympathy, leading to even more parren phase-shifting his way as news spread. But now, Tobenrah saw his chance to move on Aristan’s business, using Gesul as his champion in the Domesh contest of leadership. Whether Gesul would simply allow Tobenrah to use him as a convenient tool to sabotage Aristan’s rise, Lisbeth greatly doubted. But parren games of power were full of such slides and roundabouts, and one had to know when to jump on, and when to leap off.

  “If Phoenix is here,” said Gesul, frowning at the screens from within his black hood, “then where is Aristan? They were passing through Brehn System, but they should have departed many days ago, and taken Aristan with them.”

  “Perhaps they already did,” said another of the bridge crew — the Navigation Officer, Lisbeth thought. “Perhaps they have been and now returned. Meanwhile these others, these deepynines, have arrived in Brehn System as we have, looking to pick up the trail, and instead have found Phoenix retracing her steps.”

  “And leaving Aristan behind,” Gesul muttered, not happy with that unexplained absence. “Where would he be? Surely he did not abandon Phoenix voluntarily?”

  “Gesul-sa,” Lisbeth ventured, “we know that Aristan intended to betray Phoenix. Perhaps he tried, and failed. Phoenix is formidable.”

  “Or perhaps Phoenix betrayed him first,” Gesul said thoughtfully. To a human, the sentence may have carried the negative connotation that Phoenix was not to be trusted. To a parren, Lisbeth was certain, the possibility held only a respectful caution. “Could your brother have recovered his prize already?”

  “Gesul-sa, I don’t think it likely that my brother would have abandoned his course and retraced his path without that success.”

  “In which case,” said Gesul, “these deepynines may not be seeking merely to destroy him, but to first acquire his prize for themselves.” He tapped on a screen, shifting the viewpoint of scan, the fingers of his other hand drumming on his armrest. “So many forces, all hunting this artefact. Like birds fighting over a fallen scrap of food. Such a conflict could set the Spiral afire.”

  The Captain was setting Stassis’s course directly for Mylor Station, retaining V from jump until they reached the Brehn System elliptic in another hour, then decelerating rapidly to cruise the remaining distance among the rocks and dust. From Tobenrah there came no word, or at least, none that Lisbeth could hear from her limited access observer channels. She could overhear parren bridge crew talking in the background, concerned about the lack of coms chatter in the system, and speculating that everyone must be hiding. Several seemed to think it poor form, from a system run by House Harmony, where more than a third of the population was Harmony-phase. Surely House Fortitude were supposed to be even braver, Lisbeth wondered?

  The single departing ship that had jumped just minutes after Stassis and her small formation had arrived insystem had not been demonstrating any particularly terrifying performance in its departure. Knowing a little about deepynine technology, and having seen some demonstrated up close, Lisbeth had informed the bridge that this one was likely holding back, so as not to give anything away. And now Phoenix was telling them that there were more out there, hidden in the vast expanse of the Brehn dustbowl, silent and unmoving for now. Watching, and seeing what unfolded, like predators in the long grass.

  Suddenly there was a new contact on scan, and a flurry of parren voices that the translator failed to untangle, save for a few staccato vowels. But Lisbeth was adept enough at reading scan herself, and zoomed her own feed onto the new arrival, coming in from above the system elliptic. And now multiplying to two ships. One more made three. The light distance was displayed in parren time — two hundred and fourteen tiras, which was… Lisbeth did some fast sums, and arrived at thirty-three minutes. So these ships had arrived over half-an-hour ago, and would be considerably ahead of this position by now. And now an ID display was arriving, and her written Porgesh was not so good that she could read it straight off the screen. But her glasses tracked which bit of text her eyes were looking at, zoomed, focused, and gave her an overlaid English translation.

  Ship name Tiama, that was the leader. And then the captain and commander, two different things on some parren ships, and something no human vessel would ever simply volunteer in an IFF package in potentially unfriendly space. Dorel, was the captain. And the commander, Aristan.

  “Aristan,” said Gesul, with a glint in his eye beneath the hood. The glint was faintly predatory, most unlike Gesul’s usual calm beneficence. Parren, Lisbeth was realising, partly got into all these conflicts because they were prisoners of an unfortunate psychological structure… and partly because they enjoyed it. Power enthralled them — not money, not luxury, nor particularly even personal greed and ego-flattery… though that may have been a bigger feature of other house psychologies. House Harmony parren, at least, simply loved the feel of power, as a collector of fine arts might run his hand over a lovely robe, and admire its texture. Power was order, and structure, and the serenity of things in their rightful place. Parren sought that structure as obsessive compulsives might arrange the objects in a room to be perfectly aligned, where even a millimetre’s disharmony could cause a minor psychological trauma. Such needs could only be solved through the exercise of power, and obedience to its rightful holders. Gesul sought to impose his order, to make all the things in his world line up as they should, for the great harmony that would result. For a parren of such rank, no prospect could be more delicious, whatever its risks. “There you are, my old friend. Now what do you have to say for yourself?”

  Aristan’s new warship was the Tiama. Phoenix had last observed the Tiama heading for Aristan’s previous warship, the Toristan, as it lay crippled in orbit, disabled by Styx’s assassin bugs.

  Erik stared at the scan screen now, sipping electrolyte-heavy water and munching the sandwich someone had brought him from the galley. He was so tired now, he’d nearly forgotten which shift it was supposed to be — second-shift, he vaguely recalled. Aristan, blinked the English-symbol translation from the parren ID transmissions. Aristan. Mocking him, defiantly. “Didn’t kill
him, huh?” he suggested to no one in particular. To Styx, perhaps.

  “I don’t think we were ever going to get that lucky,” Geish muttered, still unhappy with Scan’s signal breakup amidst the asteroids. Second Lieutenant Jiri was running a steady conversation with the Scan Team elsewhere on the ship, making adjustments.

  “That ship could be lying,” Suli suggested. “We haven’t heard his voice yet. And that can be simulated too, so even if we did hear him, it doesn’t prove anything.”

  “I have a feeling that fucker’s still alive,” said Kaspowitz, plotting their possible approach variations. “Like Stefan says, we were never going to get rid of him that easily.”

  “I have a feeling you’re right,” Erik conceded. Lisbeth was alive. All the weariness in the world, and all the new danger, could not change how abruptly good he felt. Awake, and almost cheerful, surrounded by screens, controls and possibilities in his favourite chair. He flipped channels to the marines. “Hello Major, status please.”

  “Final decontamination’s going through now,” Trace confirmed. “Just PH-3 waiting to return.” Wonder of wonders, Trace had actually removed herself back to Phoenix first with Delta, leaving Echo to finish up. Usually she’d have been last aboard, ignoring Erik’s opinion that it was unnecessary and risky. PH-1 was at Midships berth now, and Engineering were giving it the most thorough sweep possible for any sign of surviving contamination. It seemed impossible, given how thorough they’d been in the Mylor Station facilities, but no one was taking any chances. “They’re rigging new decontamination gear to the berth airlock, so we’re going to be a while getting back aboard. Styx is telling Engineering she can modify a few of her bugs to sense any living nanotech, now that she knows what to look for. One hundred percent effective, she insists.”

  Because Styx, of course, was running about five different conversations at once, with Scan crew trying to improve reception, repair crew trying to fix various parts of Phoenix, bridge crew analysing coms feeds, Navigation and Helm attempting to predict deepynine movements, and now with Engineering, Operations and marines to help with the decontamination. Probably she was still running all her longterm fabricator operations too, not to mention running analyses on Phoenix’s computer systems so they weren’t betrayed to the deepynines. They’d all been concerned, a few months ago, that they might eventually become dependent upon Styx’s input. Might. It seemed laughable now that there’d even been a question.

  “We’re still looking at those six ships with Lisbeth,” Erik continued. “It turns out the one she’s on, the Stassis, commanded by Gesul, is only in command of the first three. The other three are commanded by Tobenrah, who is the head of the entire House Harmony. I actually ran into him on the Tsubarata, he was with State Department interrogating Hiro when we rescued him. Why Tobenrah’s name doesn’t appear on the ID signatures like Aristan’s does, I don’t know… Lieutenant Shilu thinks it might be something to do with parren politics, they don’t always advertise who’s exactly in charge.”

  “Tavalai tell you everything,” Trace said. “Parren tell you nothing. The funny thing is, they’re both trying to fool you — one by giving you too much information, the other by withholding it. You think Tobenrah and Gesul have made common cause?”

  “Maybe. What do you think?”

  “Well, looks to me like Tobenrah is using Gesul to split the Domesh. And Gesul has found some use for Lisbeth, my guess is that she knows a lot about Styx, and deepynines, and Gesul finds it valuable. Aristan didn’t get along with Styx the way he’d hoped. Maybe Gesul has a different attitude to parren history.”

  “I think that could be right,” Erik agreed. “Thank you Major.” He disconnected, and gazed at the scan. Three warships, led by Tiama. The three Phoenix hadn’t killed or disabled, of Aristan’s six that had accompanied them to Cephilae. Aristan was going to be very unhappy. It was nearly enough for Erik to grind his teeth with frustration. So close! They’d retrieved the data-core, freed themselves from Aristan’s unwelcome escort, and made a dash back to tavalai space… only to be held up by deepynine ambush here.

  But with the bad fortune, came the good. They’d survived. They’d learned a little more about these new enemies, and what they wanted with Phoenix. And most of all, they still held the data-core… and now Styx thought she might have a way of reading it. Erik’s optimism was relentless now. They’d been through so much to reach this point, and now they’d nearly arrived. In the Academy they’d drilled it into the young cadets — don’t look too far ahead, just solve the next problem, then the next, then the next. Eventually you’ll either run out of problems, or one of them will kill you. In either case, a solution.

  “Captain?” ventured Lieutenant Shilu. “I’m getting more system chatter now. Some ships and facilities are talking, mostly to Tobenrah and Gesul, I think. Only a small number of signals so far, but I suppose they saw that one ship leave and…”

  “Jump pulse contact!” Geish said loudly, and the blip appeared on Erik’s screen. “Range five seconds light, V and course are undetermined at this time, but he’s inside the debris field!”

  Erik hit the take-hold, as alarm klaxons blared through the ship, warning all crew to stow what they were doing and hit the acceleration slings fast. “That’s close,” said Suli, watching the ship systems reporting in to that status change, the engines powering up to full as the safety regulators came off. “He’s right in the debris field with us, he’ll be lucky if he doesn’t boost a bunch of rocks up to speed with him.”

  “I reckon that might be the idea,” said Erik, gripping his control sticks more tightly, and testing his fingers on the triggers. On Operations channel he could hear rapid, businesslike conversation between the ship and PH-3, still docked at Mylor. “Lieutenant Geish!” he called. “I need an ETA!”

  “Working on it!” said Geish. “The reading’s not good, these fuckers definitely have some kind of stealth, I can’t… one more boost!” he interrupted himself. “He just accelerated, that’s definitely coming straight at us! ETA five minutes, maybe six!”

  “He’s going way too fast,” Suli said calmly, as Armscomp locked all weapons onto the approaching course. “Scan, there’s a world of difference between five minutes and six.”

  “Best I can do, Commander,” Geish retorted.

  “Captain,” said Karle at Arms, “all weapons locked, we have a thirty-degree broadside, full spread.”

  “Hold your fire,” said Erik. “He’s going to brake in a second.” And switched channels fast to Operations, which included PH-3. “Lieutenant Jersey, this is the Captain, get everyone onboard now and emergency return to Phoenix.”

  “Captain,” came Jersey’s reply, “we are not fully decontaminated on half our marines and a handful of parren.”

  “Just get back here immediately, this guy’s going to blow the station. We’ll think of something with the decontamination — Operations, deal with it.” He switched back without waiting for a reply, knowing he’d just opened a huge can of worms… and sure enough, here on Scan was the coloured energy pulse of a ship dumping V. “I reckon he’s going to change course and head for jump. But he’s just boosted a bunch of rocks our way, and there’s no way we can toast them all.”

  “I’m tracking projected V,” Geish confirmed. “Don’t have a fix on the rocks, but I’ve got the position locked.” An ETA timer started, now adjusting even as Erik looked to the lower end of Geish’s earlier prediction. Four-and-a-half minutes. “That ship just dumped again… now he’s burning hard, I’m reading a twelve-G burn, heading for system zenith.” Just in case anyone had any doubts that it was a deepynine.

  “Operations, get me an ETA please,” said Erik. No one could save the station now, the only thing left was to stay cool and not screw up the departure. Jersey was too busy to talk to him, making sure her marines and other passengers were aboard and secure before leaving. Marines trained for this sort of thing constantly, but parren passengers were unlikely to. Doubtless it was chaos o
ver there now, everyone scrambling to get aboard and locked in.

  “Captain, PH-3 says two-minutes-fifty, but she’ll try to pull it tighter. We have the last search and rescue drones coming aboard now, PH-3 is the sole returnee.”

  Erik hit thrust, a steady burn increasing rapidly to five-Gs, angling them past the spinning parren starship, toward the station’s docking end-cap. Then he cut, spun them tail-first and held thrust until they were coming right up to the rotating docking cone. A brief burst of power brought them to a roaring halt barely a kilometre from the cone, a symmetry of synchronous motion as Midships aligned directly along the exit route.

  A note from Coms appeared on an adjoining screen — an announcement from Stassis, Lieutenant Shilu correctly judged that there was no time to hear it now. It had been sent twenty minutes ago, and Gesul and Lisbeth would only see this current mess in another twenty minutes’ time. Navigation sent Erik the required escape route that Kaspowitz had compiled for exactly this scenario, a concentrated scan along the projected course, allowing high acceleration without fear of collision for a good two minutes before things became uncertain and dangerous once more. If Jersey kept to her schedule, Erik was sure they wouldn’t need it.

 

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