by Jamie Sawyer
“What’s that supposed to be?”
“It’s a stealth band,” he said. “It cloaks life-signs. This made us effectively invisible to the boarding party.”
Looking over at Captain Heinrich, I saw that he had an identical band around his neck, except that Heinrich’s control box flashed green. A quick assessment of the ship’s bio-scanner demonstrated that Dr Saito was telling the truth. Heinrich’s vitals weren’t being detected.
“Where did you get those, Doctor?” Zero chimed in, coming to investigate. “Stealth bands are restricted tech, aren’t they? We didn’t have any on Valkyrie’s equipment manifest.”
“I brought them aboard,” Dr Saito said, licking his lips. Was that a defensive tell?
I stared from P to Dr Saito. The xeno wasn’t phased by Dr Saito at all; I hoped that one of P’s upgrades was a bullshit detector. I certainly wasn’t buying what Saito was selling.
“Along with that gun, I take it?” I challenged.
“The weapon is a personal possession,” said Dr Saito.
The pistol was an older-pattern kinetic; a semi-auto Army-issue model. Not something I would expect a Science Officer to be carrying around as personal property.
“Don’t be impudent, Lieutenant,” Captain Heinrich said. “Dr Saito assisted me during the boarding, and I’m very grateful for his help. Had it not been for him, well…”
I gave Dr Saito a glance that made clear we weren’t done—that I wanted some real answers—but we had to focus on what mattered.
“All right,” I said. “Jackals, let’s get cleaned up.”
“I’m going to take stock of the armoury and cryo-storage,” Ving declared. He cracked his knuckles. There was a little more fire behind his eyes now. “When we find Riggs, I want to be ready.”
I got patched up in Medical, and swallowed down some painkillers. A med-pack to the head and a session in the auto-doc, and I was good to roll. The Jackals had bruises and minor injuries, but other than Novak, they weren’t in bad shape. Novak waved off any medical attention, just because he was Novak. The Sons of Balash had beaten him with shock-batons, causing nasty burns across his torso, but Novak wore those injuries like badges of honour.
Less than an hour after the Aeon had initiated their repair function, the Valkyrie was ready to fly. Although she wasn’t going to win any beauty contests—half of her portside outer hull was covered in gossamer-like strands of glowing crystal—she was space-worthy. All primary systems were online and the main thrusters were running hot. Even the Q-drive was operational.
A tide of Aeon Scuttlers worked both inside, and outside, the ship. These were the “constructs” P had spoken of. They had the appearance of terrestrial spiders, and were equipped with some sort of tool where a true arachnid’s head would be. Impervious to vacuum and heat, the Scuttlers phased in and out of reality as necessary. Whether they were fully automated, or guided by some remote intelligence on the Aeon vault-ships, was unclear. Whatever the truth, they were effective, and worked fast.
All that was left to do was clean up the ship. The Jackals pitched in, and we scoured the decks for bodies. In silence, we trawled dozens of corpses back to one of the storage bays, setting them down in neat rows.
Novak looked out across the improvised graveyard. Each body was draped with a bunk sheet, which made all of this easier to deal with. These people had families, had lives, meant something. Now, they were just bodies under sheets. Phoenix Squad was the worst. I’d never liked them, but what had happened to them was all kinds of wrong. We logged the details of each fatality. The bodies would be repatriated, if we ever got home.
Captain Ving met us outside the holding bay. I nodded at him.
“We’ve secured the bodies, sir,” I explained.
“Thanks,” he said. “This… this was a day I never thought I’d have to face.”
“I hear that, sir.”
“We’re Sim Ops,” he said. “We’re not supposed to be in real danger.” His eyes drifted to Novak, who stood beside me, and seemed to fix on the mass of bruises that covered the Russian’s face. “I guess that’s not so true.”
“You can pay final respects,” Novak suggested.
“They were my brothers,” Ving said. He froze in front of the bay hatch. “I’m going to tell their families, personally.”
“I think they’d appreciate that,” I said.
“Maybe I’ve been too hard on the Jackals,” Ving said. “Maybe I’ve been too tough on the fish, too.”
“We can take it,” said Novak.
“I’m sure that you can,” Ving agreed, hand on the hatch controls. “But that’s not the point. I just thought maybe you should know.”
“Noted, sir,” I said.
We left Ving to his private grief, and wandered the decks back towards Medical.
“We have to save Lopez,” Novak said.
“We will,” I said. I shook my head. “It’s all I can think about right now.”
An Aeon Scuttler crept across the deck in front of me, phasing through the bulkhead. Some would argue that we had succeeded. We had done the impossible: made contact with another alien species, a race that had only been recorded in myth and legend. Potentially, we could turn the tide of this war and end the Harbinger threat. But none of that mattered, I realised. Not unless I had my squad. Lopez’s loss dominated my thoughts.
“We’ll get her,” I said. “I promise. The Spiral won’t harm her.”
“Not Spiral,” Novak muttered. “She is with Vasnev. With Sons of Balash.”
Novak’s hand went to his forehead, almost unconsciously, and he traced the nerve-staples in his temple. His real skin was bruised and the flesh of his face still sore-looking. It might’ve just been the light, but his eyes looked watery.
“Take that hate, and use it. That’s an order.”
Novak saluted. It wasn’t much of a salute, but it was heartfelt. I guess that was what mattered most. The big guy’s Adam’s apple bobbed, the emotion wrought on his face.
“I lose Vali and Anwar. They are gone for ever. Whatever happens to Major Vasnev, that will be the case.”
“It’s taken you long enough to figure that one out, Novak.”
“They were my family. I thought for longest time that I have no one left, but I am wrong. I have Jackals. They are family now, and I fight for them.”
I tried to laugh the words away, but Novak’s vulnerability in that moment was disarming. He was deathly serious.
“Even Lopez?” I asked. “You’ve always said that she is a pain in the ass.”
“Especially Lopez,” said Novak. “And yes, she is a pain in my ass, but a good pain. The Jackals are the only family that matters. So I will do what is needed, when time comes.”
“You’re dismissed, trooper.”
Novak nodded, and disappeared into the ship. A Scuttler—glowing, almost ephemeral—followed him.
I almost ran into Dr Saito as I entered Medical.
“Ah, Lieutenant,” he said. “How is the med-pack holding up?”
“Well enough, Doc.”
Dr Saito looked uncomfortable. He toyed with the hem of his uniform. “I was just monitoring the progress of these Scuttlers. They are remarkable creations. They seem to almost ignore the crew.” He grinned. “I’d like to catch one for study, although I’m not sure our new allies would appreciate that.”
“So, Doc,” I said, “what’s really going on?”
“What do you mean?”
I noticed that Dr Saito’s pistol sat on the bench next to him, within easy reach.
“I think we both know what I mean. Who are you? Because I’m damned sure that Dr Wesley Saito isn’t a Chief Science Officer.”
Saito tried to repress a swallow.
“I am Wesley Saito,” he insisted. “And I am a Science Officer. I haven’t lied to you—or anyone else—about my identity.”
“But there’s more to you, Saito. You were a late assignment to this mission. Someone wanted you on this ship, an
d it wasn’t Command.”
“I’m not Black Spiral, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Saito said. He seemed very eager to demonstrate that point. “Surely you can see that. I protected P. I made sure that Major Vasnev’s death squad didn’t find him.”
“I didn’t use the rank ‘Major’ when we were in the CIC,” I said. “Where did you hear that?”
“One of the crew might’ve mentioned it…”
“I don’t think they did. I’ve never accused you of being Spiral, but we both know there’s more to this war than just the Spiral and the Alliance. Who are you really working for, and why are you on this ship?”
Wesley Saito chewed on a thought for a long moment. “I’m with the Watch.”
I laughed. “You’re lying. There is no Watch.”
Saito licked his lips, slowly. Indecision was painted across his face. “And who told you that, Lieutenant?”
“There is no Watch,” I repeated. “It was Lazarus, and his partner, and a bunch of people who believed his crap. That was all.”
“The Watch is deep intelligence,” Saito said. “That’s the truth. It might not be the most prolific of organisations, but it is the most effective. We are a new weapon, to counter the Black Spiral. An organisation that can be anywhere, when required—”
“Then why does Command deny you even exist?” I asked, very much aware that my voice was rising in timbre and pitch. I was angry, and struggling to repress it. “When we came back from Kronstadt, everyone was keen to tell us that the Watch wasn’t real. That it was just Harris and his crew. Military Intelligence told me as much!”
“Which is what they believe,” Dr Saito said. “Which is what we want them to believe.”
“Why would the Watch possibly want that?”
“Because Mili-Intel is compromised. It has been since the Spiral first appeared as a threat.”
“If you really are the Watch, then all you’ve succeeded in doing is standing by while four simulant operators were executed, and a ship full of loyal sailors was slaughtered.”
“I’m the only Watch operative on this ship. I protected P, and hid Captain Heinrich. It was all I could do.”
“Command Dieter was executed.”
Dr Saito grimaced. “I sincerely wish that could’ve been avoided.”
“And now, suddenly, you think that you can tell me this, and it’s all going to be fine?”
Phoenix Squad’s tanks sat empty—monuments to what had been lost. Lopez’s tank yawned, the data-cables dangling limp from the main control unit.
“No,” Dr Saito said. “I never believed for one minute that this would be fine, but I wouldn’t be doing this unless I thought it was right. The Watch is a collection of individual operatives, spread far and wide. Dr Locke was an affiliate; a source of information. I’m the same. An agent, if you will. And I’ve achieved my objective.”
“Which was?”
“To protect Pariah, and to ensure that communication was made with the Aeon,” Dr Saito said. “That is what was required of me.”
“So I take it that the Watch is going to just disappear again, now that this is done?” I asked, with a level of sarcasm that would’ve suited Lopez.
“Not quite,” Dr Saito said. “There are other, deeper agents within the Alliance fleet. When the time comes, they will be activated too.”
“How does that help?”
“They have orders,” Saito said. “Just like me, they will execute them to the best of their ability. They’ll do whatever it takes to end this war, and destroy the Spiral.”
I bit my lip. That was a habit I’d shed as a teenager.
“Does Captain Heinrich know about the Watch?”
“No,” Dr Saito said, shaking his head. He may as well have added of course not, but instead said, “Captain Heinrich is a Proximan, and a loyal one at that. He thinks that Command knows what’s best. He’s wrong. We can keep this from him.”
“Agreed,” I found myself saying, without even thinking on it.
“General Draven doesn’t know, either.”
“And Ving?”
“Same. He’s a poster boy for the Sim Ops Programme.”
I nodded. Swallowed. “So now you’ve told me: what comes after?”
“We head for Ithaca. That’s where Warlord, and Major Vasnev, will be. We use the Aeon to end this war.”
“My priority is recovering Lopez,” I said.
“Understood,” said Dr Saito.
“Tell me one thing.”
“Go on.”
“If you really are Watch, then you’re privy to restricted intel.”
“It’s highly compartmentalised. All on a need to know basis.”
“I want to know something personal. I lost a friend on Darkwater Farm. He meant a lot to Zero, and he meant even more to me.”
Dr Saito didn’t reply. He really was going to make me ask the question.
“How is Lazarus doing?”
His expression told me everything I needed to know.
An alarm sounded across the deck, before I could get a proper answer.
“What is it now?” I asked, storming into the CIC.
“You’re going to love this,” said Zero, as she perched at one of the vacant terminals. The Navy crew were all focused on addressing the new threat. P loomed over the main display.
“What in Gaia’s name is this…?” Dr Saito remarked, as he took in the latest development.
The Aeon fleet had assembled around Carcosa, in the same orbit as the Valkyrie, a short distance from our position.
“We’re detecting a massive space-time anomaly,” said an officer. “Directly ahead.”
The officer looked to P, who was about the only entity within light-years that seemed to have any idea of what was going on any more.
“The readings that thing is putting out…” Zero said, following up the comment with a long whistle. “They’re amazing.”
A white smear of light rapidly coalesced in deep space. It was a slit in the fabric of reality, spilling out exotic energies in every direction. But despite the anomaly’s alien appearance, the Valkyrie’s AI detected something familiar about it.
“That’s a Shard Gate, right?” I asked.
P stared at the terminal.
“They can create jump-gates at will!” Zero said, thrilled, almost forgetting that only a few hours ago she was facing certain death. “Not even the Shard can do that.”
“How do they know where to meet with the Alliance fleet?” Captain Heinrich asked. “We have specific orders to rendezvous with General Draven.”
“Tell our new buddies we say thank you,” I said. “I think.”
“Can we make contact with them?” Captain Heinrich asked. “I’d like to meet with one of their, ah, leaders.”
Captain Heinrich nodded. “Very well.”
“Initiate thrust, sir?” asked a Navy officer.
“Immediately,” ordered Heinrich.
The Aeon followed us through the breach in time-space, as silent as they had been since their appearance.
CHAPTER TWENTY
BATTLE LINES DRAWN
“That’s a positive on realspace translation,” said Zero, reading from the Valkyrie’s navigation console. “We are through the Gate.”
“Can someone confirm our location?” Captain Heinrich said.
“I can do better than that,” said a Navy crewman. “The Valkyrie is receiving tight beam IFF codes from several sources.”
“I’m verifying,” another officer said, amazement in his voice.
“We’ve found the Alliance fleet.”
“Looks as though your friends have dropped us right on the edge of the conflict,” I said, to P.
By now, Novak and Dr Saito had also converged on the CIC.
“The Aeon are following,” Dr Saito said, reading from a vacant console. “All of their ships made transition through the Gate.”
Zero uploaded new data to the tactical-display. A tri-D reproduction of surrounding space appeared.
“I present Ithaca Star…” she said.
Everyone paused to take in what we were seeing. Ithaca was a main sequence star, the heart of a busy system that supported several planets. It was the primary Reef Star, and these were the Reef Worlds; the Krell’s inner sanctum. In other circumstances, this would’ve been a big moment. Before the war, no human had set eyes on this star—its location had been unknown, during both the Krell War and the stalemate that followed. The Krell regarded their ancestral home as nothing short of a sacred place. From here, the Krell Collective had spread across the stars, and become fractured in the process. But despite those divisions, the rise of the individual Collectives, the Krell were still a unified species. At least, they had been—until the coming of the Harbinger virus.
“The Krell High Council?” Zero probed.
P had once told me—a very long time ago, it felt—that it had never been to the Krell’s home planet. It had been created on North Star Station, from an existing bio-form. It hadn’t known the cradle of Krell civilisation like some Collectives.
Since I had made connection with a navigator-form in the Gyre—during one of the Jackals’ early missions—I’d been having visions of this place.
