There followed a five-G course correction burn for nine minutes that had seemed to go on forever, operational chatter continuing, but everyone’s mind on something else entirely. At the end of it, Erik ordered shift-change, and second-shift command crew came in to replace the first, all save Lieutenant Commander Dufresne who was going to take a while working her way back from AT-7’s berth at Midships. Erik did not envy her the shift to come.
He caught sight of Kaspowitz, helping DeMarchi into the Nav chair while Erik did the same with Draper. Kaspo’s eyes were red and wet. Draper studiously examined his screens, not meeting Erik’s eyes. Shilu looked stunned, as though he couldn’t entirely comprehend what had just happened. Jiri just looked confused, as though wanting to ask if somehow they were going to go back and get Major Thakur. No one could believe that she was gone. Sasalaka remained in her chair, waiting for Dufresne to arrive and replace her, and looking just as blank and stunned but for what Erik suspected was a different reason again.
Erik was saved the walk down the trunk corridor by virtue of his quarters being five steps from the captain’s chair. He closed the door, AR glasses on and activating a channel to Lieutenant Dale. Five seconds later and there was still no answer. Ten seconds. Then, finally, a connection.
“Lieutenant Dale, report,” Erik snapped, making no attempt to hide his displeasure.
“I’m sorting it out, Captain,” came Dale’s harried reply. “Give me a minute.” A glance at the locator display showed that all of Phoenix Company’s marines were still in Midships, making no attempt to move back to the cylinder.
“You get them back in Assembly now, Lieutenant, or I’ll come down and do it myself.”
“Recommend strongly against that, Captain. It’s not a good time.”
“Refusal to comply with orders in wartime is mutiny, Lieutenant!” Erik snarled. “The penalty for mutiny is death! Pull your weapon on whoever is the cause of the problem and remind them!”
“Aye Captain.” Disconnect. Erik didn’t believe him. He knew exactly what was going on in Midships — various marines thought their officers had betrayed Trace in leaving her behind, probably up to and including Erik. Erik knew how big a problem that was, thus his entirely serious order to Dale. He knew the rage and pain they’d be feeling, because he felt it himself.
Trace was Phoenix, far more than he was. Suli had been too. Pantillo had been most of all. Now they were all gone, and it was only him left in charge — the son of a rich family, assuredly only picked for his political lineage whatever his other skills. Him, and a lost tavalai, and a couple of kids a few years removed from driving work-experience freighters around backwater systems where nothing ever happened. And their pet killer AI who probably had no clue why everyone was so upset.
For a moment, he stared at himself in the small mirror. Remembered Trace giving him an unexpected hug when he’d been dealing with Lisbeth’s captivity. She’d acquired that knack of changing his mood at will, for better or worse. And now when he most needed one of her electric jolts to his system, she wasn’t here to give it. For a brief moment, he felt like he was fifteen years old, struggling with a maths test and thinking that surely all his hopes of Fleet greatness were just the fantasy dreaming of a naive kid stupid enough to think he belonged in the same company as those great men and women.
A light blinked on his glasses — Lieutenant Lassa, now in the Coms chair. “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”
“Captain, I have a transmission from the corbi. It’s Tiga, she put out a feeler transmission and I intercepted it with Styx’s encryption. Tiga wants to speak without her own people hearing.”
“Put her through.”
“Aye Captain.”
Erik sat on his bunk while waiting for the call to come through. Then realised that he’d been sitting for too many hours already, and stood back up, hands against the wall and stretching his calves and hamstrings. The link established.
“Hello, Captain?” It was a translator approximation of Tiga’s voice, timid, concerned and more than a little scared.
“Hello Tiga, it’s the Captain.”
“Captain, I’ll talk quickly, I might not have much time and they’ll not want me talking. I’m not sure they knew the splicer was a trap… the corbi captains I mean. The Resistance. But they knew a lot they didn’t tell you, I couldn’t talk because… well, because…”
“Because you hadn’t figured out whose side you were on yet,” Erik said tiredly. Lord he just wanted this day to be over. No, he wanted this entire adventure to never have happened. To have gone back to human space with Lien Wang and talked things over with Fleet command. Probably they’d have at least discharged him, and then he’d be looking for another line of work. Civilian space wouldn’t have had him, and didn’t interest him anyway. Maybe consulting. Law. Politics. Charity and advocacy for returned veterans. Anything other than this constant loss and pain.
“Captain, they were sincere in wanting what the Splicer has. They want it desperately, they’ll risk a huge amount to get it. I mean, they couldn’t afford to lose those two ships they lost either. What’s happening on Rando is awful.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do. Even I didn’t know, and I thought I knew everything about it. It’s made the Resistance out here… it’s made them mean.”
Good god, kid, Erik wanted to shout at her. What the hell did you think a war of attrition and mass slaughter did to people? But he couldn’t, because when he’d been that age, he hadn’t known either. Not really.
“The Splicer is set up like a trap,” Tiga continued in a small voice. “The Resistance didn’t really tell you that. You’re supposed to land on it. Reeh like to capture people. They… they can get information from them, then. That’s a strength of the reeh — they’re clever, they like to collect intelligence before they do anything. They want people to land on the Splicer, they’re that confident they can catch them when they do. That’s why so many of us got away… I mean, I’m no commander, but I thought they could have hurt us far worse if they’d tried.”
Erik couldn’t argue with that, either. “Go on,” he said.
“They thought maybe Phoenix and Makimakala could break through anyway and capture the computer cores. It really is there, it’s a real research base, it would have been amazing data on all the stuff you’re after. But hard to get.
“Anyway, there’s a couple of Resistance ships in the outer system. Ones you weren’t told about. The captains said the reeh will want human prisoners, they always go after the most high ranking so they learn the best intel. I’m sorry about Major Thakur but they’re pretty sure she’s still alive. The reeh will take her back to the nearest planetside Splicer for analysis — the Rando Splicer is much larger than the Zondi Splicer, and much more well defended. Reeh space is divided into sector commands, the sector commander has jurisdiction over all activity, so he won’t want to ship her off to some other Splicer or he’ll lose her from his jurisdiction…”
“Wait,” said Erik, with sudden, burning hope. “You’re saying she’s alive, and the Resistance know where she is?”
“It’s a guess,” Tiga conceded, “but it’s a very good guess. They’ve been doing this a very long time, they know the reeh. They’ve sent word back to Rando Resistance that she’s on her way. Now don’t get your hopes up, but Rando Resistance has assets that they occasionally expend on high value targets… extraordinary assets. I can’t say any more, but Rando Resistance capabilities are actually pretty amazing and they’ve been wanting to get some high-ranking alien military powers down there for a long time to see what’s going on. The only hope they’ve got is that someone else might see that it’s in their interest too to come and save them. To save Rando, and to save the corbi. Before we’re all extinct.”
Wow, thought Erik. But then, the corbi had been all too good at this before — telling them exactly what they wanted to hear, to lure them into traps that were to benefit corbi far more than humans. “Look, Tiga…”<
br />
“I’m sorry, Captain. I can’t say anymore… I’d be in serious trouble if they found out I told you this much. I just hope Styx’s encryption is as good as I’m told.” Click, and she was gone.
Lisbeth walked upon the great ceremonial platform, clad in her best blue coat, as two assistants held an ornamental umbrella above her head. Semaya was with her, and Timoshene, plus several Domesh guards. Light rain fell, pattering off the umbrella, and making a gentle hiss upon the landing pad, and the concentric circles of meditating House Harmony parren.
The formation was a wayan — a symbol of peace and virtue that held significance to parren of all houses. It had appeared on banners presiding over the truce of Five Houses that had followed the great civil war of seven thousand years ago, and at many other occasions as well. Now a hundred of the Harmony contingent to Shonedene maintained a vigil here, with their leader, in this formation above the great fork in the rivers that overlooked the ancient House Fortitude capital.
Lisbeth could see as she walked how completely vulnerable they all were, to snipers from the higher buildings, to aircraft, to anyone in the city with hostile intent. But today beneath the misting rain, the great city was quiet, the skies echoing to only the faintest hum of airtraffic, the usually crowded streets now empty as parren remained indoors.
It was a statement of peace, from the ruler of House Harmony to all the parren of House Fortitude. Fortitude was rocked, shaken to its core. In this system alone, parren were phasing in their millions. Beyond this system, as starships carried video and other news to neighbouring systems and across all parren space, likely hundreds of millions more. Perhaps billions. Not all were phasing to House Harmony — the flux was not so convenient for the politically disruptive as that. But mostly they were abandoning House Fortitude en masse as the suppositions that had once underpinned the greatest of parren houses for the last twenty five thousand years fled away.
Shonedene city ground to a halt. There shoveren psychologist-priests tried desperately to attend to the psychologically afflicted, gathering them in great arenas as the hospitals and health centres overflowed. There was little medical threat, most symptoms went little beyond loss of appetite and general mental confusion, accompanied by between two-to-ten days of bed rest. But the flux was a spiritual thing for parren, to be witnessed by the shoveren and blessed in the passing. Now the shoveren were overworked, rushing to attend to those in need, helped in the logistics by every able-bodied parren available. It was a colossal emergency, but not a life-threatening one. Or not yet.
Gesul’s advisors had urged him to abandon Shonedene immediately, and head for safe Harmony space. Sordashan and his immediate circle remained strong, and could order retribution against those who had caused this calamitous upheaval. House Fortitude’s majority would now likely fold, and House Harmony, should the flux prove fortuitous, would emerge as the dominant house of the parren, with Gesul their supreme leader. Return to Harmony space and prepare forces, Gesul’s advisors begged. This isn’t over yet, and the fading Fortitude behemoth could yet strike, and seek revenge on the man whose conniving had most plainly laid them low.
Instead Gesul had gathered his entourage here, and sat in vigil upon this most visible location, arrayed in a symbol of peace. House Harmony would seek no advantage now. House Harmony would not gather forces, thus triggering a Fortitude response and potentially a catastrophic conflict to follow. House Harmony would wait, in silent meditation, until the great forces of the flux had played themselves out. In the meantime, should any Fortitude parren wish retribution, Harmony’s great leader would not retaliate or defend himself, but would simply sit and allow the universe to pass its judgement.
Upon seeing Gesul’s response, Lisbeth had heard, the rate of phasing within the Fortitude population had accelerated. It was a kind and statesmanlike gesture, but like everything else Gesul did, it was not without thought or design. Harmony’s prestige among non-Harmony parren increased, and while such things could not always direct the flow of the flux, there seemed little doubt that Harmony’s share of the newly phased would only grow.
Lisbeth reached the pad opposite Gesul and was gestured to take her seat before him. She did, folding the hem of her robe while sitting crosslegged. Gesul disdained the umbrella carriers, and Lisbeth did the same with her own, shooing them away. She pulled her hood far enough back from her brow to see him clearly — dark-cloaked and comfortable in his pose as Lisbeth would never be, wrists rested upon his knees.
“I hear that you have been out visiting,” said Gesul.
“Yes,” said Lisbeth. “I went to the Larsa ceremonial grounds. Fortitude officials were kind enough to provide an escort. There were sixty thousand parren there, they told me. It looked like at least that many. All in various states of distress, the entire grounds were covered in tents and flags, it was an endless sea of people. But hygiene seemed good, I’m not entirely sure how they managed it. Parren logistical capabilities are amazing.”
“The Larsa grounds are only a fraction,” said Gesul. He paused as another advisor stooped to whisper in his ear, then receive a reply and leave. “My reports tell me the Jusica are planning a full count of the numbers as soon as this present wave has ceased. It could take a hundred days.”
It was still incredible, Lisbeth thought, that any institution could conduct a credible census of all parren space to determine which house held the greatest numbers in just a hundred days. But regimented parren organisation went all the way down, through direct lines of command at the very highest levels to the smallest farmer on the most unremarkable lands on scantly-populated worlds. All parren had someone to report to, at a moment’s notice, and corruption in that system was, from a human perspective, astonishingly low. Parren would assassinate each other in power-games, but to lie about census numbers to the Jusica was as unthinkable to most as to disobey the command of their rightful ruler.
“I have asked much of you, Lisbeth Debogande,” said Gesul. “It has come to my attention in readings that it is human custom to thank another for such deeds. I thank you, for your efforts.”
Lisbeth smiled. “There is no need, Gesul-sa. You treated me as parren, and honoured me with the opportunity to serve you. I am humbled.”
“Yet you wish to ask me questions all the same,” said Gesul, with that faint humour of his. “In your human way.”
“This disharmony is also the human way,” Lisbeth agreed in kind. “I feel that you suspected Hiro’s doubts. Why did you allow him to accompany us, and why do you now show him such mercy?”
Gesul took a deep breath, a heave of cloaked shoulders as he gazed up at the enormous administrative buildings of House Fortitude, ascending the cliff walls opposite. “The simple answer would be that Hiro Uno is the closest I have come to a direct conduit to human government. For all your most excellent qualities, Lisbeth Debogande, you cannot grant me trusted influence and access with the highest levels of human government.”
Lisbeth nodded in concession. “You are correct, Gesul-sa. I feel they will listen to me, given the uniqueness of my position. But they are unlikely to completely trust me, given my family’s situation. Hiro Uno remains a trusted and loyal agent, so yes, they are more likely to believe his word if given.”
“But mostly, I’m afraid, this may be an unexplainable parren thing. There was a convergence of loyalties, within your team and those closest to you here. Liala was essential, you understand her and her kind in ways that perhaps the average parren cannot, and then with Hiro, and one of my best in Timoshene, I sensed… emergent possibilities. It is difficult to describe in terms a human might understand. Anilas, perhaps. The plays of Anilas are large with the possibilities of convergent loyalties and purposes. In hot fires, strong bonds and new purposes are forged.”
“Alas, I’ve not had the time to see the plays of Anilas,” Lisbeth said apologetically. “Your culture is so vast, Gesul-sa. Nothing would delight me more than to immerse myself in it for some period, during a quieter tim
e.”
“Ah yes,” said Gesul, perhaps wistfully. “A quieter time.” His sharp blue eyes fixed upon an approaching aide, who also bent to whisper something. Gesul merely nodded, and waved her on. “I have questions for you also, Lisbeth Debogande.”
“Of course, Gesul-sa.”
“My reports of the battle scene in the old deepynine city have returned. Scholars across parren space are now researching this lost chapter of history. What do you think they will find?”
“I would not wish to preempt their findings,” said Lisbeth. “But parren history since the fall of Drakhil has been written by the enemies of House Harmony. All knowledge of the good in that period has been erased, and all record of the ill deeds from other houses with it. It looks to me as though the Fortitude leader at the time saw an opportunity to undermine House Harmony’s drysine-alliance, and sent an invitation to the deepynines. The wonder is that the deepynines accepted… but there is so much knowledge here that has been lost. Centuries of events. Drysine/deepynine conflicts were complex, as are parren internal conflicts. We will have to wait to see what the scholars uncover.”
“At the scene of your conflict,” said Gesul. “Three Fortitude marines were killed, another four wounded. All three of those slain died from the fire of Dse Pa. Liala also fired rounds, yet from what we can ascertain, she hit nothing. Now, I find it unlikely that she is an incompetent warrior. Perhaps she was firing merely to dissuade her enemies, and was presented with no clear shots. I was wondering on your perspective?”
Croma Venture: (The Spiral Wars Book Five) Page 44
