“Four years with no sign of the zerg, and then all of a sudden they show up on a remote planet which happens to be where you’ve set up a former black marketer. I didn’t get where I am today by believing in coincidence. Anything you care to tell me?”
Valerian smiled. “And good afternoon to you too, Father.”
Arcturus waved a hand. “Rule number one for running an empire, son: When the zerg are a topic of conversation, the niceties go out the airlock.”
“I’ll remember that. The situation is under control, Father.”
“Define ‘under control,’ and tell me why the zerg are there in the first place.”
Valerian debated. He could remain silent, or lie, or tell the truth. It was too late to sweep everything completely under the rug. But the most important thing to Valerian was that Mengsk not know about Jake’s … unique situation. Valerian still held out hope that he and Jake could sit down as fellow lovers of archeology and discuss the wonders he had discovered. If Mengsk learned about it, Jake would be snatched from Valerian’s hands and his mind poked, prodded, scanned, and eventually rendered inert. What Arcturus wanted was an edge, some new technology, some new and better way to smear his enemies into paste. He cared nothing for the glories of a vanished civilization or unequaled cultural insights.
Quickly, Valerian tried to think what Arcturus would know already, and would likely know shortly. The emperor would know that three of Valerian’s ships had been there, and from their logs probably that three more had been recalled. Depending on the condition in which the zerg had left the hangar, he could possibly know that a ship had been stolen and others had been sent after it. Jacob Ramsey’s name might be in some log somewhere, but Valerian knew Ethan would not have left any traceable information about the archeologist or his discovery. Ethan would have kept that sort of thing carefully locked up in his head. Which, sadly, had likely been ripped from his shoulders or dissolved in acid. No one had been left alive, either in the compound or in the ships in orbit above the planet.
“I spoke with my contact there before the zerg descended,” Valerian said, choosing his words carefully. “One of their ships was hijacked several hours before the zerg attacked. It could be that this was part of a personal grudge against Stewart. My sources indicate that the pilot was formerly romantically involved with him. Perhaps she led the zerg to him for some reason.”
Mengsk made an annoyed sound. “The zerg aren’t a wandering pack of wild dogs that just happen to catch your scent. They’re directed within an inch of their disgusting little lives.”
Valerian shrugged. “If they were directed, then they left immediately. They must have gotten what they came for.”
That much at least was true. He had feared, when word came of the attack, that somehow Kerrigan had gotten wind of what had happened with Jake and had sent her zerg to claim him. How, he had no idea. They had come, descended, wreaked the havoc that was synonymous with their name, and departed.
A thought occurred to him, one that bothered and pleased him in equal parts. Still seemingly casual, he said, “Stewart was indeed a former black marketer. I used him for my own ends, but it’s possible he was a double agent of sorts. I don’t suppose he was working for you in any sort of capacity?”
Mengsk’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Few who didn’t know him as well as Valerian did would have noticed.
“It’s possible. I don’t know every single person in my employ.” Arcturus chuckled. “You have a mere handful, my boy. But don’t worry, I’ll soon give you more—maybe more than you can handle.”
Valerian smiled. He wasn’t certain he had guessed correctly, but it was, as Mengsk had just said, a possibility.
“I look forward to the challenge, Father. If he was not working for you, then perhaps for an enemy? I’m sure you have more than a handful of those.”
Now Mengsk did frown. “Also entirely possible. Humans have been in league with Kerrigan before now.” His gray eyes looked pensive. It was with difficulty that Valerian smothered a smile.
Maybe Ethan had indeed been playing both sides. It didn’t matter now. What mattered was that even in death, Ethan was serving Valerian well. He had distracted Arcturus from the real target, which was the escaping vessel.
“I assume your people are there?” he asked his father.
“Of course.”
“I will set mine to locating the hijacked ship then.”
“If you feel it necessary,” Mengsk said. “If anything else turns up, you are to notify me immediately. Anything that’s of sufficient interest to warrant a zerg incursion into my space, I want to know about.”
Valerian nodded. “Likewise. Stewart was my man. At least”—he smiled in what he hoped was a sufficiently self-deprecating manner—“I thought he was.”
Mengsk chuckled, then his face was replaced by the official insignia.
Valerian was both pleased and uncomfortable with how the exchange had gone. He did not like misdirecting his father, but he knew—he knew—that Ramsey would be destroyed if Mengsk had him. He hoped that soon he would have Ramsey safely in his hands and this would no longer be an issue.
“Sir?”
Valerian realized he’d been staring at the now-dark screen for some moments. He turned at the sound of Devon Starke’s melodious voice.
“Devon,” Valerian said warmly, indicating a chair. “It seems I pulled you out just in time.”
Starke nodded his thanks and took a chair. He smiled slightly.
“Not for the first time, sir. But yes, our recall was quite welcomed once we heard what had happened with the zerg.”
Valerian didn’t ask if Starke thought the zerg had come for Ramsey. That was his father’s problem, not his. He needed to find Jake and Rosemary before Mengsk did.
He posed this problem to Starke. “They can be tracked, sir. All of Stewart’s vessels have tracking devices hardwired into their navigation systems. I have the sequence we need to look for.” The ghost tapped his temple.
Valerian smiled. “Excellent. Now. Tell me about this psychic … I’m not sure what to call it.”
Emotions flitted across Starke’s thin face. “I’ve never experienced anything like this, sir. I know what you told me—that Ramsey had been attacked by a protoss and that knowledge had been rather forcefully placed into his brain. But I shouldn’t have been able to sense that. Not at the distance I was from his vessel. It was … a sense of unity. Of dissolving barriers between people.”
“Linking minds?”
Starke considered. “That, yes, but that was almost secondary. I can link my thoughts to yours. I can read your thoughts. Theoretically, linking to a third is not such a leap. We can’t do it, not yet, although I’ve no doubt your father and others are hard at work on that.”
Valerian smiled dryly. “No doubt at all.”
“This was much more than that. Sir, I fear you’ll think I’m waxing overly poetic if I say it felt less like linking minds and more like … linking souls.”
Starke spoke in a soft tone, his musical voice giving the words an extra resonance. The hairs rose on Valerian’s arms.
“No, Devon. I don’t think that’s overly poetic at all. But please continue—this is fascinating.”
Starke nodded. “I knew the thoughts and the feelings of everyone in all six of our vessels and everyone in the compound. I … It’s as if I was everyone. All of
them, all at the same time.”
“All? Including Rosemary and Jake?”
Devon made an annoyed face. “Yes. But I fear I was unable to concentrate on Ramsey as hard as I should have. I was taken by surprise and rather overwhelmed by the entire thing. I can only imagine what it must have been like for nontelepaths to experience this. Sir, I felt their fears and their hopes, knew their worries and secrets. I almost became them.”
Here he hesitated. Then he added, “And … they became me.”
Valerian raised a blond eyebrow. “So. Ramsey now knows that I have a ghost on hi
s trail.”
“If he didn’t suspect it already, then yes, sir, I expect that he does. Our only consolation is that Ramsey isn’t as comfortable holding this information as he might be. I can’t tell you for certain what I remember, and I’ve been undergoing training for such things since childhood.”
Valerian nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “And you think this was done as a delaying tactic? This … psi-burst?”
Starke hesitated. “Yes. But more than that. It was … I’m sorry, sir, but it was beautiful. Profoundly moving. If we could all stay in that space, really stay in it—there’d be no need for empires.”
Although it would be understandable and even expected for Starke to mutter against Mengsk, considering how close he had come to dying because of an order from Valerian’s father, the ghost had never voiced such sentiments. He knew that his employer was struggling with the same issues that beset all children of great parents—how to step out of their shadow without knifing them in the back. He knew Valerian’s interests lay outside of conquest and more in cultural development. So Valerian was surprised to hear even this slight rebuke coming from Devon’s lips.
“Nor should it be used as a tool for such,” Valerian said mildly. Color blossomed in Starke’s cheeks, but he remained silent.
Valerian realized he’d been right not to tell his father about Jake. What Jake had accomplished had provided perhaps the most powerful mental and emotional experience humanity had ever known. And Arcturus Mengsk, so single-minded in his purpose as to be almost pure in it, would view this ability as a weapon. He would obtain peace with it, yes, but only under his terms.
“When you have time, I want you to write down everything you remember,” Valerian told Starke. “But first—we must find Jake and Rosemary.”
CHAPTER FOUR
ROSEMARY’S SHORT-NAILED FINGERS FLEW OVER the console, setting in the coordinates immediately after they materialized in normal space. She leaned back, stretching, and finally it seemed as if she had relented enough to tell Jake and Zamara where they were headed.
“We need to replace the navigation system as well as some other parts that were damaged in the jump. That’s not as difficult as it might sound, because system runners are great little vessels. They’re not pretty, but boy are they functional, and they built thousands and thousands of them. They ended up being a sort of blueprint for most of the systems in place in any size ship today. So they don’t require special equipment—you can swap things in and out pretty easily and pretty quickly. They’re designed to keep going no matter how badly you have to patch them up. That’s why they’re so beloved by black marketers.”
“You sound like you’ve done this a lot,” Jake said.
“I have,” Rosemary answered. “Hell, Jake, I’ve done pretty much anything that’s dangerous, illegal, or fun.”
She offered a grin to Jake, still stretching in a fashion that brought a bit of color to his face. The grin was playful and uncomplicated, and he’d seen so precious little of either from her that he almost forgot to smile back. He realized that now that her anger at him had passed, she was starting to enjoy this. She was, as she had just said, in her element.
You were right to bring her along with us, Jake said. I have no idea how to even pilot a ship, let alone repair one or navigate. And as for—
His mind’s eye filled with the image of Rosemary blowing the face off a former colleague who’d turned traitor. Of her whirling precisely and calculatedly shooting someone who’d spat at Jake. And then he thought of what he’d done—or, rather, what Zamara had done, using his body—to one Phillip Randall, prized assassin of Ethan Stewart.
You could have learned how to fight and kill on your own. We did not need her for that.
I don’t want to learn to be like her in that way, Zamara. Or like you—not about that. I don’t want that at all. The very thought seemed to make his headache return.
There are many things you do not want to do, Jacob Jefferson Ramsey, and yet you must do them.
There was a hint of sorrow emanating from Zamara, even while making this firm statement. Jake knew that the protoss disliked using him so, though there was never any question that she would. This was a new development in their relationship; it had certainly not been present at the outset. She had been grimly determined to see her mission through, and her lack of concern about him had been as impersonal as it was implacable. That had changed over the last several days, as she had given him more and more information, more memories.
Will there be more? Memories, like what you did with Temlaa and Savassan?
Yes. There is much more that you still need to know. More that you must understand before I can give you the final piece. I would not burden you with such if it were not absolutely necessary.
That’s the least of my concerns about the situation. Now that I understand what to expect, I … am enjoying learning about your people. As an archeologist I find it fascinating.
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re along for the ride then,” Jake said lightly to Rosemary. The entire mental exchange with Zamara had taken just a couple of seconds. “So, are you going to tell where you’re taking us? You said something about going back in time?”
“Like I said, I had to cobble things together. I know all the spots to get spares. This one happens to have some historical significance about it. Ever heard of a little thing called the Battle of Brontes?”
“It sounds familiar.”
She gaped at him. “Familiar? Where were you when all this stuff went down?”
“On a little planet called Pegasus, happily forgotten by the rest of the sector. We heard about the bigger events, sure, but I never followed the battles. Just the big things. Like the zerg and the protoss and the wiping out of entire colonies.”
She shook her head. “Wow. Huh. I never thought of myself as being particularly up on current events, but I suppose you have to be, if you want to know which side your bread’s buttered on. Anyway, there was a Confederacy general named Edmund Duke. There was a pretty major skirmish here against some of the Sons of Korhal. After a space battle, salvagers, scavengers, and thieves usually move in to take whatever is left … but our buddy Val’s dad is rebuilding an empire and he needs all the ship parts he can lay his hands on. This place has become a salvage yard for the Dominion, and we will need to be careful getting in, and getting out. We’re just about in viewing range.” She hit a couple of buttons. “Ah, there we go.”
Rosemary had brought them to a graveyard. Jake thought that it had indeed been a significant battle, to leave this much wreckage. He wondered if any effort had been made to find the bodies, or if they were out there along with pieces of ships, spinning slowly in starlit darkness, nothing more than space junk now. Some of the vessels appeared largely intact, others were obviously unspaceworthy pieces of debris.
“Okay, so far so good,” said Rosemary, breaking his train of thought. “No sign of a welcoming party coming to intercept us. Chances are we haven’t been noticed yet. We go in dark and drift in … just another piece of the junk.” She touched a few controls and the power went down with a soft sigh. Jake and Rosemary were enveloped in dim starlight as the controls went dark. “Slow and unnoticed,” Rosemary said. “More people than us know about this place. There’s usually a lot of unsavory types here even with the Dominion’s presence—smugglers and pirates and so on. There’ll likely be a couple of Wraiths beating a patrol around the place, but we’ve got a system runner, so we should be able to outrun them if we’re spotted.”
Jake felt a twinge of amusement at the thought of Rosemary’s referring to anyone else as “unsavory types.” That sensation was shortly replaced by unease as they moved toward the dead ships. His headache increased as they passed several tense moments while the ship drifted closer and closer to the debris field. Finally, they were in among the pieces of wreckage. Giant parts of ships loomed past and Rosemary slowly brought minimal power online and used the runner’s thrusters to avoid hitting any of t
he other vessels.
“No company yet—good. Let me risk some quick scans to see if we can find what we need.” Jake was glad Rosemary seemed to know what she was doing. She was calling up information, her blue eyes scanning it quickly, and finally she nodded. “A compatible nav system right there, as well as some drive and life support components we need. May need work, but probably nothing I can’t handle. Looks like we finally caught a break. Let me remove this one and then I’ll go get the other.”
Slowly, carefully, R. M. maneuvered the system runner until it was only about ten meters from the vessel in question. Rising, Rosemary located a tool kit, dropped down to the metal floor, and slid under the console. Jake watched in silent admiration as she unfastened the plating, reached into a jumble of wires and glowing chips, and inside of fifteen minutes removed a fairly large navigation unit. As they lifted the frame holding the nav system out, she pointed with a scowl to a glowing green circular component in the heart of the frame.
“There’s our culprit.”
“Are you going to destroy it?”
She shook her head. Her silky black hair flowed with the movement. As was always the case, Jake wished he could touch it without getting punched.
“We have a better use for it. All right, time to go get its replacement. Same deal as the last spacewalk, Professor. I go out, you watch the little light.”
“Will do.”
They carried the nav unit into the docking chamber, and she went into the back room and suited up. The door closed and a few moments later the light illuminated green. Jake waited until he saw her floating past, the tether secure on her body, nav unit in tow, directing herself purposefully to the Wraith they had pulled alongside of, and then got himself a coffee. It was much, much better than what passed for the beverage on the marine vessel the Gray Tiger. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. This was a black marketer’s vessel, after all. While he was up, he opened the medkit and found something for his headache.
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