The Marines looked at Bra’hiv, who nodded, and the soldiers marched in behind the Veng’en. Bra’hiv took one last look at the rest of the ship and then he followed them in and sealed the entrance behind him, the heavy doors rumbling closed with a resounding boom that echoed through the interior.
‘There’s no other way out of here,’ Emma said as Bra’hiv began marching in pursuit of his men.
‘That’s kind of the idea,’ Bra’hiv pointed out in reply. ‘And as long as we’re in super–luminal the Morla’syn can’t scan us or communicate with us. We need this sorted before we reach Oassia or we’ll be vaporised.’
‘A comforting thought,’ Emma replied in a rare display of humor. ‘Kordaz, can he be trusted?’
‘He’s a Veng’en, what do you think?’
‘He’s infected, he could be turned.’
Bra’hiv looked at her as he marched. ‘We could be asking the same of you.’
‘I have no desire to see this mission or the eradication of The Word and its Legion fail, General.’
‘Kordaz is battle hardened and has shown a loyalty to us that I would never have believed possible,’ Bra’hiv countered. ‘You, on the other hand, are an unknown quantity and that makes the men nervous.’
‘They learned to trust Evelyn.’
‘You’re not Evelyn.’
Ahead, the Marines shuffled to a halt and took up positions either side of the wide corridor. Kordaz stood in the centre, looking away from them into the darkness ahead, his breath condensing in clouds that caught the low light from the ceiling above them.
‘What’s up?’ Bra’hiv asked as he dropped down onto one knee alongside C’rairn.
‘Don’t know, he just stopped.’
Bra’hiv looked at Emma, and she reluctantly moved forward to stand alongside the enormous Veng’en warrior.
Emma had something of Evelyn’s spirit, but the sheer size and power of Kordaz intimidated her. Her eyes were barely level with his abdomen, and she could hear his breathing hiss through gigantic nostrils high above her, his breath spilling from them as though he were some kind of monstrous bipedal dragon.
‘You hear them.’
It wasn’t a question: Kordaz’s harsh dialect translated digitally into something that she could understand.
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I can hear nothing, yet.’
Kordaz nodded once, his gaze affixed to something far off in the distance.
‘What does Lazarus want?’ he asked her.
Emma frowned as she looked up at the Veng’en. ‘What do you mean?’
The warrior’s head turned and he looked down at her, his eyes glowing a dull, menacing red and the metallic orbits catching the dim light.
‘No machine ever cared for man or beast,’ he growled at her. ‘Lazarus is here for something and it’s not to save our skins. What does he want?’
Emma shook her head. ‘I don’t know. He’s done nothing but protect us.’
Kordaz stared her down, and she realized that even the quickest shot among the Marines would not be swift enough to stop the warrior from reaching out with one of his gigantic hands and crushing her skull before he was cut down.
‘You fear me,’ he said.
Emma swallowed and lifted her chin. ‘I do not.’
‘Yes, you do,’ Kordaz said, ‘because the Legion can sense it.’
Emma stiffened and she turned to look down the corridor ahead. ‘I cannot see them.’
Kordaz’s reply sent a fresh shiver down her spine.
‘They use scouts, just like armies would. They are already behind us.’
***
XII
Emma turned to call a warning but Kordaz’s hand suddenly landed upon her shoulder.
‘Silence.’
The whisper was harsh, strained, and she looked up at Kordaz to see him squinting down the tunnel.
‘If we let them know we’re aware of their presence, they may attack.’
Emma swallowed again. ‘How can you see them?’
‘The Legion repaired my eyes,’ he replied. ‘They did a better job than they should have. I can see their heat signature. About two hundred of them, clinging to the ceiling, twenty cubits ahead.’
Emma peered into the gloom and thought that she saw a subtle movement across the ceiling of the corridor, as though something alive has scuttled across it.
‘Then how can they be behind us?’ she whispered.
‘They’re leaving scouts behind to encircle our position,’ Kordaz replied. ‘One here, one there. Their numbers will build up and once we’re deep enough into the interior they’ll attack from both in front and behind. No escape.’
Emma scanned the darkened ceilings but could see nothing.
‘They’re chewing their way into the air conditioning vents, moving out of sight,’ Kordaz explained as though he had heard her thoughts. ‘They’ll come out behind us again when they’re passed.’
‘We must tell the General!’
‘His men will panic,’ Kordaz hissed. ‘That’s what they always do. We must not let the Legion know that the men have seen them.’
‘But we’ve seen them,’ Emma protested.
‘Yes, and they know that we have,’ Kordaz replied and looked down at her once more. ‘But we are not them, are we Emma?’
Emma shivered again and realized that the Veng’en’s massive hand was still upon her shoulder, gentle now. Kordaz lifted it away and turned to the Marines.
‘Move on.’
Without waiting for a response, Kordaz began marching away into the darkness. The Marines hurried past and Bra’hiv jogged up alongside Emma.
‘What was that all about?’
Emma watched the Veng’en disappear into the darkness.
‘He wanted to know if I’d sensed anything yet,’ she replied.
‘And?’
Emma shook her head. ‘I haven’t heard a thing, general.’
Bra’hiv watched her for a moment and then he hurried off in pursuit of his men.
Emma looked around her at the corridor and thought she saw something nip out of sight far behind them, a tiny speck like an insect hurrying across the deck. Revulsion writhed down her spine and she hurried away in pursuit of the Marines.
*
Captain Sansin made his way to the heavily armoured storage depot with his wife and the governors following, two Marines acting as escorts as they descended through the ship. Gredan led the governors with a look of self–satisfaction on his face.
‘I’m delighted that you agreed to our requests, captain,’ he said as they walked, clearly enjoying himself.
‘I didn’t agree,’ Idris replied. ‘You demanded.’
‘The governors have a right to know about everything you’re getting them in to,’ Gredan explained conversationally. ‘How else can we convey to the populace your intentions, the reasoning behind your faith in Veng’en warriors, genetic clones and Lazarus?’
‘Necessity,’ Idris shot back. ‘It’s called war, governor.’
‘And that same necessity explains our presence now,’ Gredan replied without concern. ‘We need to know everything if we’re to be a part of any negotiations with the Galactic Council.’
Idris nodded to the guards outside the depot and they immediately unsealed the doors and hauled them open. Idris marched inside, the governors following somewhat more cautiously. The room glowed a soft blue, Ceyen Lazarus’s holographic form turning its head to meet them as the door slammed shut behind the governors. The two escorting Marines took up positions either side of the doors and waited unobtrusively.
‘Lazarus,’ Idris announced, ‘these are the governors, representatives of the people who have demanded an audience with the Galactic Council alongside me.’
Lazarus listened as the captain introduced the governors in turn, and to the captain’s surprise he bowed slightly at the waist in greeting.
‘It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance,’ he soothed. ‘Forgive my appearance, but it’s a considerable
improvement on my previous incarnation.’
‘Or re–incarnation,’ Idris suggested. ‘We felt that a holographic representation of the doctor’s form was something that people would prefer.’
Governor Vaughn peered at Lazarus in fascination. ‘So, you’re alive?’
‘Regrettable so,’ Lazarus replied. ‘I should have died long ago, governor. But my work is not done and I have much for which to attone.’
‘Tell them what you told me,’ Idris commanded Lazarus, and the image of the old man obeyed without question.
‘I am a machine, much the same as The Word, of that there is no doubt,’ Lazarus said. ‘But my networking is entirely different, a modification I made to ensure that the fate that befell The Word cannot be repeated with me.’
‘Fate?’ Ishira Morle echoed fiercely. ‘The Word suffered no fate. Six billion or so humans suffered a fate.’
‘Yes,’ Lazarus conceded, ‘but the proximal cause of that tragic loss was with The Word. It was designed to be autonomous, to make its own decisions, to be able to weigh up actions and consequences, to arbitrate and judge. Those actions, those capabilities, are what make us human, for no other Etheran species possessed such qualities. The Word thus became somewhat human, and without a barrier to its expansion it developed what one might call emotions, or a soul, and above all, fear. It learned to fear humans in just the same way that the species represented by the Galactic Council has come to fear humans. The Word’s fate was to act out of fear of its creators, not out of a homicidal rage but out of self–protection, an act that we humans are most definitely familiar with.’
‘No,’ Gredan snapped, ‘humanity relied upon The Word, came to trust it. If it was so capable, had such understanding, it would have realized that it had nothing to fear from us, that it was in control.’
Lazarus smiled at Gredan. ‘That would be true were it not for all the other emotions that come with self–awareness, like paranoia for instance. Rage, desire, the need for power, control and certainty in our world that is a hallmark of the human condition. The Word could not be sure that we would not someday turn against it and so it acted as we would and prepared for war.’ Lazarus sighed. ‘By the time that war was imminent, The Word’s programming had mutated grotesquely enough that self–preservation had transformed into an inextinguishable desire for domination. By then, there was no turning back.’
Governor Morle took a step closer to Lazarus.
‘So what makes you so different?’
‘When I uploaded myself to Endeavour, I introduced a new protocol into my programming that ensured that I could never again make decisions autonomously of human direction.’
‘What kind of protocol?’ Governor Gredan asked.
‘I chose three members of Endeavour’s crew and ensured that they were given unique and complete access to my files and systems, and that my own ability to give commands aboard the ship were slaved to their acquiescence. In short, I could not make any decision or give any command without their verification first.’
Governor Gredan peered at Lazarus closely. ‘Which members of the crew did you choose?’
‘The captain, and two of his senior officers. Only one of those officers remains alive, and she is with you now. Her name is Emma.’
Evelyn stood forward. ‘It’s all true, Emma told me as much on numerous occasions. Lazarus inserted the protocols to ensure that whatever madness consumed The Word would not afflict him in the same way.’
‘So in effect we have control of you, and not the other way round.’ Governor Vaughn said.
‘Correct,’ Lazarus agreed. ‘The task at hand now is to convince the Galactic Council that this is the case, that they do not have anything to fear from me being aboard Atlantia. Likewise, they have nothing to fear from either Evelyn or Emma.’ Lazarus frowned, his glowing digital features scanning the crowd before him. ‘Where is Emma? I cannot sense her presence?’
‘She is aboard Arcadia,’ Idris admitted. ‘She travelled there before the Morla’syn destroyers arrived.’
For the first time since Lazarus had been given’s holographic presence, Idris thought he saw a look of dismay across the man’s features.
‘The Legion is aboard Arcadia,’ Lazarus said.
‘We have sent Marines to root them out,’ Idris promised, ‘and the Veng’en warrior Kordaz is with them. As a team, they should have no problem in clearing up the infection before we arrive at Oassia.’
‘Emma is not strong enough,’ Lazarus insisted. ‘If she is exposed to the Legion she may succumb to its temptations.’
‘What do you mean, succumb to its temptations?’
Lazarus sighed despite the fact that he had no lungs with which to breathe. The action was uniquely human despite his digital form.
‘The Legion is a conglomerate, a unified force, and the greater its numbers the greater its attraction to those who have in any way been a part of what the Legion is. In order that Emma could control what I can do, she too had to become a part of it. It’s why she can sense my presence and that of the Legion too.’
Governor Gredan glared at Lazarus. ‘So you’re saying that she is as much a part of The Word as you are?’
‘No,’ Lazarus insisted. ‘Emma was infected along with the other two crew members by me on purpose with a weakened version of what you now call the Legion. I only used a single Infector, similar designed to that used by The Word, but instead of being an aggressive invader it was designed merely to allow Emma to develop the senses needed to communicate with me. The Infector I placed inside her was designed to disintegrate after a short period of time, which it did effectively, the disintegration powered by Emma’s own immune system. I then sent this information back to The Word on Ethera, concealed within other more mundane data which allowed the information to be absorbed into the system. In effect, I was attempting to create humanity–wide resistance and even immunity to the Infectors. That’s how the immunity entered the human line and ended up in Evelyn here.’ Lazarus sighed again. ‘Sadly, the immunity did not spread wide enough and fast enough to prevent the apocalypse.’
The governors fell silent, Evelyn with them as Idris thought long and hard.
‘The only advantage we have is the immunity that we now all carry aboard Atlantia and Arcadia,’ he said finally. ‘That in itself is a bargaining chip with the Galactic Council. An immunity to the Infectors provides a major barrier to The Word’s infiltration of differing races. It served the Veng’en well for some time until they succumbed.’
‘The Legion learns fast,’ Lazarus agreed. ‘Any immunity we carry at this time will not prevail forever. Now that we’re seeking the council’s assistance it’s essential that we also commit them to a major offensive against the advance of The Legion. If it appeared at Akyron V then we know that the Legion is expanding at a trimetric rate and will continue to consume worlds as it expands into the cosmos. There will come a point where it will spread so far that we will be unable to stop it no matter how large a fleet we can amass. In short, captain, you were right. Now is the time to fight.’
Idris looked at the governors.
‘You understand the predicament we face?’ he asked them. ‘That there is nowhere else to run. This is not just about finding a safe haven for what’s left of humanity. This is about reaching a point where we must stand and fight back or be destroyed. Are you willing and prepared to stand before the Galactic Council and barter not just for a safe haven but for the amassing of the fleet sufficiently powerful to take us back to Ethera?’
The governors looked at each other, and Idris realized that even Ayek’s normally belligerent expression and softened as she realized the sheer magnitude of what they were about to attempt.
‘This is it then,’ Meyanna said. ‘It’s the end of the line, one way or the other?’
Idris nodded solemnly.
‘When we reach Oassia we either make our stand or we will be destroyed by the Galactic Council and they will have to make the stand for us. Given
the choice, I would rather die fighting The Word than any of the other species that populate our galaxy.’ He looked at the governors. ‘Are you with me, or not?’
Governor Gredan lifted his bulbous chin and stepped forward. ‘Aye.’
The other governors cast each other one last glance, and then they all stood forward.
‘Aye.’
***
XIII
‘You see anything yet?’
Lieutenant Neville did not reply as he crouched in the darkness and listened intently. The blackness was unnerving, as was the cold, the power to Arcadia’s aft hull re–routed to deny the infecting Hunters power and warmth, slowing them down enough to perhaps give the Marines some warning of any attack.
Neville was backed by three of his most trusted men, but right now he felt anything but safe. None of their portable detectors was reading a definable heat signature from the Hunters supposedly colonizing the damaged areas of the ship, and as such he had no idea of where to begin looking for them. Not that doing so was a part of his mission, which was in fact to watch General Bra’hiv and Bravo Company, a request that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.
‘Nothing,’ he whispered back finally. ‘There’s nothing here.’
‘Where are they then?’
Neville shrugged and looked down at the tracker he held in his hand. The screen portrayed the ship in all directions in a quasi three–dimensional display, with their own heat signatures displayed in blue and those of Bravo Company in red. Bra’hiv’s Marines were about a hundred cubits ahead of them down the corridor and close to the hull breach, the section itself sealed off to protect the ship’s internal atmosphere and shield it from the intense radiation generated outside the hull by the frigate’s tremendous velocity.
Mikhain’s orders were clear: Kordaz could be a threat to Bra’hiv’s Marines and should be vaporized should he in any way seek to threaten their safety. What bothered Lieutenant Neville was that everybody in the entire fleet knew that Kordaz was an unreliable ally and a carrier of the Legion’s Infectors. Did Mikhain mistrust somebody else on the General’s team, or perhaps even the General himself? If Mikhain was so concerned for everybody’s safety, then why would he demand that Neville report only to him in person and not directly to Bra’hiv? Neville’s instincts were alive with the sense that something was amiss and that something was about to hit the fan somewhere along the line, and he was damned if he was going to walk blindly into some kind of…
Defiance (Atlantia Series Book 5) Page 9
