“You don’t know how welcome those words will be in The City. All we have to do now is get here before the Otrid find us.”
“Yes. There is that,” Apex said, rubbing his chin. “Say, I don’t suppose you’ve got any whiskey up in that fancy ship of yours?”
Mik grinned. “As a matter of fact…”
Chapter 19
Scouting the Enemy
“Permission to come aboard, Captain Maelstrom?”
Vance tried to keep a neutral expression on his face and an even tone in his voice. He still didn’t know what the protocol was for addressing a former god. Or was Maelstrom even a former god? He was the disembodied intelligence that controlled Faraway’s former godship, and was therefore its “captain,” but what else? Deity? The equivalent of an artificial intelligence? Just some random code that could mimic human interaction?
He’d read the official reports and he’d also heard the rumors. Talia had been somewhat cagey on the subject. She never came right out and said whether Maelstrom was still powerful enough to be a god, or if he’d been stripped of everything but his voice. Maybe nobody really knew.
Either way, in Vance’s new life as a soldier with orders to follow, he had to respect the chain of command. Maelstrom was both god and captain of the godship until he was notified otherwise.
“Granted.”
Vance opened the hatch and led his men through the airlock, then made his way down the corridor to the next hatch and let the Granth in. He was pleased to see they moved in order in a more-or-less disciplined fashion. Their training was progressing rapidly, and Vance was starting to believe they might actually turn into an effective fighting force.
He led his troops through narrow passages until they stepped out into one of the main concourses. Vance heard gasps of surprise behind him as the walls receded and the bulk of the ship opened before them.
He knew how they felt.
It was his first time on a godship and he drank in every detail. As a man who had, until recently, earned his living by crafting custom furnishings using exotic materials, he had a keen interest in how the ship was constructed. He’d been given the schematics in preparation for this posting, but it still didn’t prepare him for the splendor of his surroundings.
The architecture was uplifting—inspiring even—but it was the materials that truly intrigued him. He reached out and caressed the walls with his fingertips as he passed. He was amazed to discover that his implants were so sensitive to external stimuli that he was able to identify the metals and polymers by feel alone. He passed an open conduit where servitor robots were busily engaged and recognized the shiny metal inside instantly—metallic hydrogen, a superconductor created at pressures so high they couldn’t even begin to be replicated on Skyra.
He shook himself out of his initial wonder and forced himself to inspect the layout and materials from a tactical perspective. It was Vance’s job to command ground forces wherever they were needed when the Otrid returned, whether under the dome, on the surface of Skyra, or inside one of the godships. Apollo had not yet consented to allowing training inside his vessel, but Maelstrom had been far more open to the idea of training inside Faraway’s ship.
As Vance moved deeper into the interior, his eagerness grew. Besides its formidable capabilities, Faraway’s godship had clearly been designed to keep a deity entertained for centuries on end. He could spend a lifetime inside this ship and probably not see it all.
That, of course, made it even harder to defend on a ground combat level, but the thrill-seeker inside him was looking forward to the challenge.
As for meeting the god-like being in control of the ship, the feeling was closer to trepidation. Vance had met with Talia on several occasions, and even though she had recently been as human as he, Vance still found it unnerving to speak to an Aspect controlled by a hidden super-being tied into every function of The City. Even after his implants allowed him to perceive more of the invisible forces at work, it hadn’t eased his mind much.
He had been, after all, one of the callow youths who’d questioned the very existence of the gods. Now he was about to speak with one.
He called up the three-dimensional map on his vision overlay and made his way to the chamber where Maelstrom preferred to interact with people. It was a simple space directly off the central plaza. As he neared, the chamber lit up, inviting him inside.
Vance entered, glancing around, searching for a clue to his next move. No godly Aspect materialized, no servitor robots attended him. Even his newly-enhanced senses supplied no useful information.
He tilted up his head, as if speaking to a disembodied deity in the sky.
“Captain Vance Anderrs of the City Guardians, reporting as ordered.”
It was several seconds before a response came, first in the form of shifting light patterns across the ceiling of the chamber, and then a deep, disembodied voice with a metallic edge.
“Welcome aboard, Captain Vance.”
“Thank you, Maelstrom, sir.”
“Do you have what you need to conduct your exercises?”
“The requisition list has been filled. Once we get started, I’ll know whether I’ve left anything off.”
There was a pause after his reply, and Vance got the impression that Maelstrom’s attention was diverted elsewhere. The god’s next question came in the same formal, clinical tone and speech pattern he’d used since the first contact with Vance’s shuttle. Then Vance realized he’d used the same tone himself when dealing with a subordinate.
“What is your assessment of the Granth’s abilities in a combat situation?”
“They’re certainly motivated, I know that much,” Vance said. “The Otrid pulled them from their world and forced them to fight us, and they were pretty brutal in their persuasion methods. My biggest worry has been keeping them supplied with sufficient food and breathable atmosphere so they’ll be in proper condition to fight, but Talia has helped us improve in that area.”
“You have overcome the language barrier?”
“Mostly. They aren’t exactly the smartest beings in the galaxy, but if we repeat it enough, they grasp what we’re telling them. As for fighting, their natural instinct is to swarm, as we saw when they assaulted Tower, but I’ve been able to make strides in getting them to fight in a more disciplined manner.”
“Good. Because if it comes to close combat against the Otrid, discipline will be required.”
Vance heard a soft rustling sound behind him. He turned and saw a chair forming from the floor of the chamber. He watched, fascinated. They didn’t have live materials like this in the dome. Godship indeed.
“Sit. I’ve got something you should watch.”
Vance did as instructed. The lights dimmed in the chamber, and the wall in front of him came to life in an explosion of color and sound.
Maelstrom offered no commentary, but it was soon obvious what Vance was witnessing—internal security video of the Otrid assault on this very godship. He watched, fascinated. Vance had seen images of the Otrid, read reports, and studied the history of the assault on Earth. But there were so few direct encounters with them that any human survived, and thus little in the way of visual records. This was the first time he’d had the chance to watch the strange aliens in motion, speaking their own language amongst themselves, for an extended period.
In this view, the Otrid were bunched together in a group of four and rushing down one of the avenues that led to the central command nerve center. An active, supple defense membrane of some sort drifted above them, deflecting some of the weapons fire that Faraway directed their way. They easily repelled the servitor robots that had been sent to intercept them.
Without thinking about it, he stood and walked toward the wall. The images projected the Otrid at their actual size. They were even larger than he’d realized, twice his height easily and far more massive. The resolution of the video was high, detailed enough that Vance could make out the different skin textures of the four Otrid segm
ents.
“Stop the video, please.”
Maelstrom did so without comment. Vance moved closer.
“Run it at slower speed.”
The Otrid resumed their advance, lumbering at an eighth the speed as previously.
“See here—these tendrils that hang down on this one,” Vance said, pointing to the upper segment of the nearest Otrid. “They’re in constant motion, repositioning along their own bodies, and occasionally reaching out to touch one of their comrades. Why are they doing that?”
“We believe those tendrils play a role in keeping the four separate minds tied together,” Maelstrom replied.
“But the tendrils aren’t moving in the other three soldiers. They appear to be embedded,” Vance said, moving along the scene, examining the two Otrid who made up the rear of the rectangular formation.
“We can only speculate. This one may be the leader, and its motions may reflect silent commands. Or it may be an immature adult, not yet fully integrated, and these motions are the equivalent of peeing his pants.”
Vance looked up at the ceiling of the chamber, as if expecting to see a smiling god looking down on him. Nothing he’d heard or seen about Maelstrom led him to expect jokes. Getting a handle on the god’s true state was not going to be easy.
“You can resume actual speed for the video, if you wish,” Vance said.
The Otrid continued lumbering forward. Vance watched as their defense membrane attempted to turn back Faraway’s counterstrikes. He could see in the background that the defenses of one of the other Otrid groups had been breached. They quickly fell as ship-board lasers sliced them in half, spewing gore across the deck.
The view abruptly shifted to another area of the ship. Here, four groups of four Otrid each surrounded something, in tight formation, hustling it along. It was secured by uncountable hairlike strands yet appeared to be levitating on its own.
“By Triton’s scaly balls,” Vance said, letting slip one of the drinking oaths he used to share with his buddies from the Affiliation of Seekers. “What is that?”
“That, as best we can determine, was their secret weapon,” Maelstrom said. “From my observations, along with the final reports from Tower, I believe this strange alien had the inherent ability to disrupt intermolecular forces, but also electromagnetic fields and even bio-electric fields. And the creature was able to use these abilities in a highly targeted manner. The alien wielded these powers like a scalpel. It is the direct reason why I’m not the god I was.
“That can’t possibly have evolved naturally, so I’m assuming it was bio-engineered. Either way, the Otrid kept the thing shackled, controlled by the concentrated will of dozens, maybe hundreds, of their strongest warriors. It wasn’t one of their own creations, but another captive species like the Granth.
“Regardless of its origins, I set it free. I’m hoping the Otrid won’t have another like this in their arsenal next time they arrive, because this is how they sundered the human and Benefactor technologies that together formed the basis for the godlike powers The Seven of us possess.”
Vance stepped forward and examined the captive alien. Its single large eye stared ahead, exhibiting no emotion Vance could read. It was yet one more alien that had altered the course of humanity, and people would probably never know exactly how or why. It made him feel small, yet defiant at the same time.
“Here’s the tactical lay of the land,” Maelstrom continued, and his voice strengthened, as if he was gathering the various parts of himself, or he was focusing his entire attention on the subject. “Faraway originally had twenty-seven different internal defense systems at her command aboard ship. When the Otrid captured it, they ripped out three of them, and I can’t re-create them. Of the remaining twenty-four, fifteen were created in such a way that they only respond to direct commands from Faraway. I can control only nine of the ship’s original weapons systems, and not all of them simultaneously.
“What this means, is that when this ship is invaded—and they will try it again—we’re going to have to rely heavily on ground troops to repel them. You’re going to have to find a way to fight them face-to-face in this environment and defeat them. You’ll need to develop new weapons and tactics.”
With that, the wall-sized image display winked out.
“The Otrid value the godships highly—as they should,” Maelstrom said. “They went to extraordinary lengths to capture it the last time. It’s valuable beyond measurement to us, obviously. We can’t allow it to be captured or destroyed. If the worst happens, and the ship falls, I will erase myself from the neural network so they can’t corrupt me or plunder my memory core. But you will have to continue the fight, one way or another. Captain, this is the most important duty you will ever be assigned. We simply cannot let our enemies gain control of a godship.”
“Understood, sir,” Vance said. Thoughts of his wife and children came bubbling up from his mind, lending a conviction to his voice that reflected no trace of uncertainty. “Understood.”
Chapter 20
In Fading Light
“You’ll love it when you get there, Talia,” Mik said. “The air smells so fresh, yet so alive at the same time. It’s not like the antiseptic, filtered air we breath in The City. I’ve spent enough time with the air processors in the UnderWorks to know how efficient they are. Nothing gets past them. Yet somehow, the wild air on the new world, with gods-know-what floating around in it, felt…invigorating, that’s the word I’m looking for.”
Mik was in the lower chamber with Talia, speaking with her in person, not through one of her many Aspects. She smiled lazily at his descriptions of the new world, but he could tell that most of her attention was elsewhere. She looked much worse than she had the last time he’d seen her. She was even paler, and had lost more weight, which should have been impossible since the systems she was hooked into monitored her general health constantly.
He didn’t like the feeling in his gut that squirmed to life upon seeing her like this. It reminded him of the first time he’d explored the tunnels of the UnderWorks as a child and gotten lost. It was a feeling of helplessness mixed with the insight he could not then articulate that a much larger world existed and it didn’t particularly care about individual lives.
Now he was an admiral, commanding a small fleet, but his powerful starships were of no use in reviving this woman he loved.
“I can’t wait to see it, Mik,” she said, her voice barely audible.
It was easy for her to hide her declining condition from the general population. But not from him. When Mik had arrived back in Cityspace there’d been a public ceremony where he’d made his announcement about the new world. Talia had presented her warrior goddess Aspect to The City, regal and radiant, but he’d noticed right away that the Aspect seemed even more aloof than usual, more like a simple projection than a semi-autonomous representation of the will of a demigod.
“You will, and soon. Apollo is working up something with Apex that will get us all to the new world. Of course, you probably know that,” he said, hoping she’d volunteer some information on the plans. The gods were accustomed to keeping their own council, and even being a messenger between deities—and an admiral besides—wasn’t enough to open the gates of the inner circle to him.
She didn’t take the bait. “Can you believe it’s actually going to happen in our lifetimes?” she mused, and the tone of her voice was so wrapped in pure wonder, so much like the young Radiant Acolyte he’d fallen for all those years ago, that he couldn’t bear to press her for additional information.
“I’ll tell you this,” he said, “It’s even better than I imagined, and I only saw a small part of the planet.”
She closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them again, and this time there was a firmness in them that was heartening to see.
“In that case, let’s make sure we live long enough to see it. How are fleet preparations coming along?”
“With the Terra and the Acolyte being commissione
d, I’ve worked up a new patrol formation based on the attack pattern the Otrid used last time.”
“You don’t look too enthused about that.”
“Oh, the new ships help plenty,” he said. “It’s just that when the Otrid rip open gateways into our space, there’s no telling where they’ll jump in, or how quickly they can bring their ships through. Frankly, if they can open portals directly into the dome…”
Her eyes glazed over. “I’ve been working on that problem more than any other,” Talia said. “I’ve studied every scrap of information we recorded about those gateways, and the one that opened in the administrator’s office gave off a different quantum signature than the other ones out in space.”
Mik raised an eyebrow. “That’s the first I’ve heard of that.”
“I may look like I’m napping all the time, but I actually am working in here in my cocoon,” she said, giving him a languid smile. “But remember, during the Otrid attack, they’d corrupted Faraway and had her under their control. Faraway is gone now. Can they still open a portal inside The City with that kind of precision without her? I suspect they could only achieve that kind of accuracy through her. They were able to actually open portals within the cloud mass of Maelstrom himself. But the Otrid had never been here before. Faraway was the only one who could possibly have pinpointed a location inside The City, or relayed the energy signal of a god at that level of detail.”
Mik rubbed his jaw as he considered her theory. “That makes a lot of sense. Their portals, where their ships came through, weren’t ideally placed. They were too far out from Lodias. It gave us enough time to marshal our forces and respond. If they could open a gateway inside The City itself, why not just open their main one right above the dome and wipe us out before we could react?”
“Exactly. In the aftermath, as I studied their attack, it looked like a tactical error. But maybe they genuinely can’t open gateways in distant stellar systems with any real accuracy. When he returns from his search for Grey Wolf, I’m going to ask Apollo to look at the quantum signature from that portal that opened inside the dome to see if he recognizes anything that would positively link it to Faraway.”
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