Foreverlight (The Consilience War Book 4)

by Ben Sheffield

  “I am selling out nobody,” Nolund said. “I am speaking the facts. I have merely discerned that being candid might help me, in this case.”

  “You’re right,” Wake said. “Keep talking, and you keep breathing. We want to hear all about Raya Yithdras.”

  Nolund coughed. “You put a bullet in me, you son of a bitch. Every time I breathe, I feel it grate against my ribs. I need help. If it works its way inside, my lungs will fill with blood.”

  “But where's the bad part?” Zelity said.

  They all glanced at the Razorman, stunned.

  This armor-plated assassin, his body surgically reimagined to the antithesis of all things human, had just made a joke.

  Clearly there might be some hope for Zelity yet.

  “So this sort of double dealing is common for Raya? I need to know what to expect, when I go up against her.”

  “Very common,” he said. “I've often helped her and Emil Gokla forge files, destroy police reports, break things that need breaking and fix things that need fixing.”

  “Were you involved in the operation that cost me my memory?” Wake said.

  “I was not.”

  “Bullshit. I don't believe you.”

  “Understand that this happened ten years ago. I was not a Son of the Vanitar at that point, only a initiate. My rank was not much higher than Vante’s.”

  “Very well,” Wake said. “I have no way of proving otherwise.”

  Abruptly, his attention turned to the boy.

  “Vante, I heard you say that Raya Yithdras murdered Emil Gokla, not you. Was this a lie?”

  Vante shook his head. “It happened as I said it. She poisoned the blood bag, and told me what to do. I would never have thought to do it myself.”

  Wake looked to Nolund. “What do you know about this?”

  “I know nothing,” said the Son of the Vanitar, coughing again and wincing in anguish. “Raya is a law unto herself. She tells us just enough for us to be useful to her. She told us that Vante was an assassin, and I suppose we all came to believe this fiction. But still, I never thought that it could have been her.”

  “Because that would have been difficult to accept. Because that would have meant that maybe one day it would have been you.”

  Nolund was silent for a moment. “There are far fewer of us than before. The organization that Emil Gokla built, Raya Yithdras is destroying. I had often thought of splintering away with Saldeen and some others, and forming a separatist cell. But with the Solar Arm crushed and the Reformation Confederacy ascendent everywhere, there is nowhere safe for such a cell to go.”

  “Wheels within wheels within wheels,” Ubra said, “and treachery within treachery within treachery. You know you're fucked when you need a sleeper cell inside a sleeper cell.”

  “Take us to the spaceport,” Wake said. “There’s much to think about.”

  They turned to go, Nolund followed by Zelity, followed by Ubra, followed by Wake, followed by Zante. Five Russian nesting dolls.

  As they started to walk, Wake tapped Ubra's shoulder.

  “I want to know that we can work together,” he said. “Can you forget what I've done for a few days? Forget me, in fact. Pretend I’m an entirely different person, if that's what it takes. God knows, you wouldn’t be far from the truth.”

  “I still don't know what you're trying to do.”

  “I don’t know if I can take you straight back to Yalin. We might need to stop off at Mars first. No matter what happens, I’ll look out for your interests, and I promise it won't be boring.”

  She thought for a long moment, and then accepted his hand. “Truce.”

  Terrus – June 29, 2134, 0400 hours

  All of them were completely oblivious to the fate that had befallen Terrus that morning.

  The earthquakes wracking the planet reached a sudden and inexplicable crescendo. Nothing could have prepared the inhabitants for what was the come, and of course, nothing did.

  At 0400 local time, seismic activity began unlike anything seen or documented before.

  Multiple megathrust earthquakes, most measuring in the mid to high 9 on the Richter scale, erupted in the Atlas mountains, the Pacific Rim, the west Asian steppes, and dozens of other places.

  Within hours, whole cities were obliterated from the map, swallowed by the seething earth.

  Tsunamis crisscrossed the globe, some nearly a kilometer in height. Coastal cities were washed away.

  Neo Los Angeles, close to a fault line, was one of the hardest hit cities of all. There was enough time to evacuate a portion of the population. But that, of course, only meant there was not enough time.

  Soon, continents were in forment. Trans-continental cables failed, and deep sea connections were ruptured by the rapidly moving plates. Everything dissolved into dust, seawater, and confusion. Somewhere, billions were drowning.

  From the sky, you would have seen volcanoes erupting like cluster bombs,

  After just a few hours, dust salted the sky, and you would have seen nothing at all.

  Nearly the entire population of Terrus passed from the world that day, blown away like dust in the wind. The big, the small, the rich, the poor, all of them died, made equal at last. Nobody to remember, or mourn, or even forget.

  Zephyr City – Venus – June 29, 2143, 1200 hours

  Zephyr city was coming alive now.

  The five of them marched directly through to the spaceport, ignoring anyone who asked them what had happened out on the platform.

  They just brushed past everyone in their way. With Zelity’s metal-reinforced body, this was very easy.

  Within minutes, they were on a shuttle, riding straight through to the spaceport.

  “This is going to be difficult,” Nolund Esper was miserable, the light dying in his eyes. “The pilot’s not going to want to leave without the rest of us on the Dravidian. And they’re dead.”

  “Figure it out,” said Ubra.

  Wake ate protein bars fanatically. He eyed Vante, sitting on a plush velour seat and staining it with blood and sweat. He still had his Vyres in. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to come with us, boy. We’re going to Mars, and I’ll try and infiltrate Raya’s court. It’ll be dangerous, especially for someone they have a profile on, like you.”

  “I understand,” Vante said. “I don’t want to go offworld. This city’s great, when you people aren’t blowing it up. I can have a nice life here.”

  “So why are you here?”

  “Because there’s something I need to sort out with this guy,” he smiled. “Hey, Nolund, how are you going to compensate my boss for her lost business?”

  Nolund looked as though he was being asked nonsense. “I beg your pardon?”

  “That platform was expensive to rent, and you ruined it. You trashed at least twelve sets of Vyres, and those all have to be accounted for by the government in case they fall into the hands of criminals. And let’s not forget the Quetzals. They got free, and they’ll stay free. Absolutely nobody will recapture them now.”

  “You set the Quetzals free, foolish boy,” Nolund Esper said.

  “…Because you were threatening the life of my best customer. Plus, remember how I said I’m going to want payment for pain and suffering.”

  “Payment?” Nolund said. “You are insane. Raya is radically remaking the solar system. Who knows if digital ducats will even exist soon. There is a pulsating sound beginning inside Terrus – something that we suspect is the onset of a new Wipe. Money’s the least of your worries, idiot.”

  “Yeah, but it’s the only one of those problems I can fix. Five and a half million ducats, and we’ll call it square.”

  Nolund looked outraged, and supplicated Wake and Ubra. “This child is extorting me. Please explain reality to him.”

  “I don’t know,” Ubra said. “He’s kind of lowballing it. I’d have gone for six.”

  Wake reached out a finger, and not so gently placed it on Nolund’s wound. The man roared i
n agony.

  “Pay him,” Wake said.

  They got off at Zephyr City’s spaceport – a tarmac expanse covering several hectares, reinforced with hardened titanium to guard against the massive backwash of Dravidians.

  After a very strained chat at customs, Nolund’s credentials allowed them access.

  “There we are,” he pointed at an idling Dravidian, rising from the flat ground like a spear.

  “Do your missions normally end this badly?” Ubra said. “You came here with every possible advantage, to make a prisoner of an unarmed man sitting on the edge of a dock. Now all of your friends are dead or defected, and you’re leaving as his prisoner.”

  “At the moment, I have no ability to respond to your provocations,” Nolund said. A pressure cooker of pure concentrated rage inside him was starting to boil over. “As soon as we land on Mars, that will change.”

  “Feisty. He’s making threats already.”

  “I do not threaten. I just observe reality. Soon you will be in the control of my employer, and she will be very attentive to the things I say.”

  Wake and Zelity nodded at each other, as if to say, well, I know someone who won’t be surviving this trip.

  Dravidian transport craft came in several classes and categorizations.

  There were the basic shuttles without artificial gravity, used by civilians and the miserly. They were little more than thin aluminium tubes with nuclear launch section, hardly more sophisticated than the Saturn rockets two centuries earlier.

  Paying for the silver package got to admission on a series of ever more slick and sophisticated craft, with extended bodies, more rooms, more amenities, more safety telemetry, and everything else to make long flights through dark space bearable.

  This was one of the good ones.

  The Sons of the Vanitar worshipped pleasure, and lived lives of unimpeded luxury.

  They certainly wouldn’t allow their members to suffer in the craft used by mere peasants.

  Inside, the pilot looked confused at the bedraggled company filing in.

  “This is difficult,” Nolund said, “for the moment, our mission parameters have changed. We are returning to Mars immediately.”

  “Where’s everyone else?”

  “Where, indeed.”

  The pilot looked skeptical. “Can I see some sort of proof from Prime Minister Yithdras that the mission has changed?”

  “No, you can’t,” Wake said. “Just understand that there are some people in this room who are expendable, and some people who are not. Given that I can walk around the dockfronts of Zephyr city and find someone else to fly this beast, I would put you in the expendable category.”

  Shakk

  Razor-sharp claws were resting on the pilot’s shoulder, and he looked away.

  “I’ll program a course.”

  “Please. Also, get me a sat-comm connection to Mars. I need to get a message to Raya Yithdras before we leave the tarmac. You said there was a pounding sound from within Terrus," Wake said.

  "That is true. A number counting down."

  "How?" Wake asked. "The planet was destroyed, or so I thought. I pulled myself clear and wrapped the blast zone in a wormhole mere moments before the antimatter warhead was detonated."

  "That is very much the question," Nolund said. "It's possible that whatever destructive element animated Caitanya-9 was not an essential part of the planet, and can exist even when the original device is destroyed."

  "Very well. We will hope that they believe a bit of shtick."

  There was a nearly unbearable waiting period as the pilot first pinged for Dashka relay probes, before finally finding one and then authenticating himself across the impossibly huge gulfs.

  Venus and Mars were now far away from each other. It was not the ideal time to conduct such communications, and in any case, a large amount of the Solar Arm’s old infrastructure was destroyed or dismantled. There were fewer Dashka probes left in commission, which meant worse reception, longer wait times, and more frequent drop outs.

  They didn’t know for sure that Raya Yithdras was trying to break up the last remnants of the Solar Arm and its industrial holdings, but it certainly seemed like she was in no hurry to rebuild it back to its former glory.

  Finally, they had a tepid blue link.

  The pilot asked Wake what format he wanted the message in.

  “A holographic video feed.”

  Cameras were switched on in the cockpit, and Wake delivered a terse message.

  "This is a message for Raya Yithdras, who now styles herself the Prime Minister.

  "As you are aware, I have initiated a new Wipe. Caitanya-9 is gone, but its essence remains, and that essence has now transmuted. What was once the Vanitar's dark gift now belongs to the human race. Belongs to me.

  "I have slain all of the minions you sent to capture me, and I am coming to Mars, Raya.

  "There are some things you must do, and some things you must not do.

  "Here’s what you must do. allow my comrades and I to safely land on Mars. Allow me access to the palace at Valashabad. Guarantee that there will be no reprisals for the loss of your agents. Lastly, you will find a pair of women in the city of Neo Los Angeles on Terrus. Their names are Rosemary Rohilian and Yves Gullveig. They are the guardians of a baby. Ensure that all three of them are safe, and that they are escorted to Mars as soon as possible.

  "Here’s what you must not do. You must not harm anyone on this shuttle, you must not leave Mars, and you must not try to thwart or delay me.

  "I have been betrayed by the Solar Arm for the last time, and I see no reason not to extend my judgement over the solar system. Not just part of it, but all. There is no savable part.

  "Understand that if I am harmed, I will not be able to bring about the apocalypse. I am vulnerable, and must be protected. Only you can keep me safe. I have many enemies, and if I die, the Wipe will end.

  "I await your response, Raya. We can either proceed two ways: I come to Mars, and help you eliminate humanity, or you pursue this trifling feud, and watch your empire crumble while mankind thrives. It is your choice. I will await your response on this channel."

  Zelity looked like he was having trouble processing concepts such as awe. "So the Wipe is you?"

  "Absolutely not," Wake said. "I am a man now, not a god. Once, it was different. I had a pulse reverberating in my veins, with every beat of my heart, counting down. Whatever's happening on Terrus is none of my doing. But they have no way of knowing that."

  "Wouldn't you just destroy them?"

  Ubra looked grateful that he’d put out a call to have her baby rescued. “What if this is intercepted by someone opposed to the Sons of the Vanitar? What if they try to kill you?”

  He looked askance at her. “Then you will be a very happy woman, won’t you?”

  They waited in terse silence. Unendurable second rolled unendurable second before they finally received a response from Mars.

  Come.

  To his regret, Vante could not be close to the Dravidian containing his friends as it launched. The nuclear launch stage of the Dravidian bathed the tarmac in critical levels of radiation.

  Wake shook his hand, and Ubra gave him a hug. He did not want to risk amputation from Zelity.

  "I'm glad you got Emil Gokla," were Wake's final words. "I killed his great grandson. I'm not proud, and you shouldn't be either. But be aware that your actions made the universe a better place."

  So he left the shuttle, stood in the gated area two kilometers away, and watched the Dravidian streak into the sky, cushioned on a rolling thunderhead of smoke. He stood there well after it was gone into the heavens, and the smoke was being tattered by the faint breeze inside the bubble.

  Raya Yithdras had accepted Wake’s terms, and they were bound for Mars. The seat of Raya’s power. He didn't think he'd see any of them ever again.

  The Rebuilding of Caitanya-9

  Venus-Mars Interspace – June 29, 2143, 1500 hours

  Th
ey sat in silence in the shuttle.

  Commander Aaron Wake and two of his command were reunited, after the years and countless adventures that had separated them. But now, all of this was painful territory. Ubra was transformed into a vengeance-bent matriarch, loyal to no-one accept her baby. Zelity was a biohacked supersoldier, struggling to pull his old personality back from the brink.

  For his part, Wake had merely become a god and then died.

  Already, there were ideas forming in his head.

  He had a feeling that the Reformation Confederacy would not be long for this world, or this solar system. And he truly wanted to give it a push.

  Wanted to erase Black Shift, too, if he could.

  He’d never met Raya Yithdras. All he knew was that a singularly dull and unimaginative general called Sybar Rodensis had held her superior forces at bay, before being slain by treachery. He didn’t think he’d be impressed by her.

  What motivates me? He asked himself. Revenge? No. Wake wants revenge, and Kazmer wants peace, but when they're combined as they currently are…

  …I just want to see it all fall down.

  They accelerated, and would be slingshotting with Terrus's gravity well. Or so they thought.

  The pilot comm'd a message back to the cabin.

  "I've just received confirmation that we won't be able to get an assist from Terrus. Sorry. That'll add another two hours to our trip. I'll have to use antimatter particule propulsion to accelerate, and that's slow."

  "What happened?" Wake asked, irritable. He was eager to get to Mars.

  The pilot was silent. “I don't know. But we are getting reports that the planet's gravity is...changing.”

  Wake caught himself before he declared it impossible, and chided himself.

  “How?”

  “We actually don't know. Our last transmission from Terrus happened hours ago, and since then, there's been complete radio silence.”