Participant Species: Asher in Ordered Space Volume I
Page 14
A distant whine alerted him to the fast approach of a groundcar. It was well away to the west, but was moving quickly enough that it would reach the group in mere moments. Asher put a hand to the butt of his force gun, prepared to swing it into action instantly, if need be. He knew that Kaz was just as ready with his pulse rifle. “Are these friends of yours, Qwadaleemia?” he asked, indicating the groundcar with one hand.
“No friends of ours, or of yours, Asher,” said Qwadaleemia. “Things have become...complicated...here in the past days. That vehicle, or rather, the people in it, are one of the complications.” She turned to face the Hokozana group as a whole. “You should not have come back here.” With that, all four Cythrans turned to leave. As they shuffled off the way they had come, Asher noted—despite keeping half an eye on the approaching groundcar—that their purple tube-sock uniforms bore a pattern on the reverse that looked suspiciously like a logo.
The groundcar came to shuddering halt in front of the Hokozana delegation and five female Cythrans piled out, leaving only a driver in the vehicle. All were wearing identical gray bodysuits made from what Asher took to be flutterbat hide. These looked even more like uniforms than the ridiculous fuzzy sock-suits worn by Qwadaleemia and her group.
The Cythrans did not speak to the humans at first, instead conferring among themselves. With their heads partially turned, Asher’s net was not able to translate much of the conversation. He did catch snippets: “others...take them...long...weapon[gun/knife/tree]” was the best his net could do. Maxim, assuming his role as commander of the expedition, stepped forward and said, “How do you do? My name is...” That was as far as he got before one of the Cythrans used one of its long tendrils to whip some kind of withe or wand out from behind its back. It struck Maxim sharply across the legs, causing him to stumble and fall to his knees.
“Maxim—,” Lori gasped, stepping forward to his assistance.
“Hell, no,” said Kaz, shouldering his pulse rifle and taking aim at the Cythran with the whip.
“Dad,” said Asher, and made a move to help his father before his training kicked in. Like Kaz, he shouldered his weapon. Kaz had a bead on the armed Cythran, so Asher swept his force gun slowly from side to side in an attempt to cover all the others.
Lori, reaching Maxim’s side, helped him to his feet. As she stood she said, “We’ve got serious trouble coming.” She pointed of to the west, back the way the groundcar had come. Asher, reluctant to take his eyes off the Cythrans, glanced quickly over his shoulder. Several more groundcars were careening toward them. Beyond them was a moving mass of bodies that must be half the Cythrans in Marateen.
“You will come with us,” said one of the gray-clad Cythrans. It was not the one with the whip, but it did have a small black tube tied to one of its mouth tendrils. Asher didn’t need his net to tell him that was probably a projectile weapon of some sort.
“No,” said Lori, firmly. “We will not be going with you.” As she spoke, Slipstream descended from the thin clouds above and came to hover above the Hokozana delegation.
The mob of advancing Cythrans slowed to a halt at the edge of the spaceport. Some of the ground cars had advanced onto the tarmac, but these too stopped where they were. It was clear that the Cythrans understood something of the power of even a small ship like Slipstream. By now, they surely understood the might that was arrayed behind the Hokozana people as well. Whatever they had been planning to do with the humans, the gray-clad enforcers reconsidered quickly. Piling back into their car, they accelerated away down the landing strip toward the customs office.
Maxim was standing now, although he was still wincing in pain. He leaned a little on Lori’s shoulder. “What the hell were they trying to pull?” he asked. “They must have realized we would have support.”
“Maybe they were hoping to snag us quick,” said Kaz. “If their hide-out or base or whatever is somewhere nearby, they might have hoped they could get us away before Slipstream could spot them.”
Asher turned his attention to the shuttle. He uplinked to it, and was asked how they should proceed. He told the shuttle pilot to land. “We should get out of here, Dad,” he said. “The shuttle’s keeping that mob away, but I don’t think we want to press our luck. We don’t want to have to hurt anyone.”
“You’re right Donald. Things have changed too much here to continue with the plan as it stands. We’ll have to think through our alternatives.” Maxim hobbled toward the shuttle as it touched down. Lori accompanied him, letting him put some of his weight on her shoulder. Asher and Kaz followed, weapons at the ready. Asher kept an eye on the large crowd to the west, while Kaz covered the east—the direction the gray-clad Cythran thugs had gone.
It took them two full minutes to make it to the shuttle’s boarding ramp, mostly because Maxim was limping heavily. A Security op descended from the shuttle and approached them. Asher had her keep watch over the crowd while he and Kaz bodily lifter Maxim and carried him the remainder of the way to Slipstream. As they climbed the ramp, the op said, “They’re starting to press in again. We really need to get a move on or things will start to get ugly.”
Asher and Kaz placed Maxim into the first crash seat they found. As they were strapping him in, the Security woman closed and locked down the ramp. They heard a series of small pings reverberating around the cabin. “What’s that?” asked Lori.
“Small arms,” said the Security op. “Peashooters, really. Its nothing to worry about.”
“Let’s just get into orbit,” said Maxim, breathing heavily. As he spoke, Asher felt the shuttle lift off. The pilot obviously knew most of his passengers weren’t strapped in, because he took it easy. The pinging of the small arms fire stopped moments after their ascent began, so Asher knew they had already climbed out of range.
“Twenty minutes to low orbit,” said the pilot through Ship Net. “Are we going back to the jumpgate?”
“I think we better,” said Maxim. “I don’t see what good we can do here.”
“Five hours and sixteen minutes to rendezvous with Cormorant, then.”
As the others strapped in, a medical tech came to take a look at Maxim’s legs. Asher cringed when the man peeled back the uniform trousers to reveal long red weals running across his father’s shins. The tech smiled and said, “Not a problem, Sir.” He sprayed a painkiller over the welts and proceeded to apply healing pads. Maxim sighed and slumped back in his chair in relief. “The pads should have you good as new before we get back to the jumpgate,” said the tech.
“News coming in, Sir,” said the pilot. “I’m routing it through to Ship Net.”
What came through was an image that Asher didn’t immediately understand. He was looking at a normal star field, with a cluster of red dots in the center of it. “What are we looking at?” he asked.
“Marked-up rough feed from Zvezda One,” said the pilot. “The audio is coming through, now.”
“Twenty-seven total,” said a tinny voice that Asher recognized as one of the Zvezda AIs. “Classifications unknown. Destination estimate: Cierren Cythra eighty-seven percent, Zvezda One twelve percent, all other destinations less than one percent. Affiliation estimate: Ferether Entity seventy-nine percent, first contact affiliation eighteen percent, other known corporate affiliation three percent.”
“It goes on like that,” said the pilot, interrupting the feed. “The best estimate puts them just over three hours out.”
“Damn,” said Kaz.
“A Ferether fleet,” said Maxim.
“On its way to Cierren Cythra,” said Lori.
Ship Net crackled to life again, this time with the voice and image of Drienner Marcolis. “You know what we know,” he began, without preamble. “A fleet of twenty-seven Ferether ships appeared in-system approximately fifteen minutes ago. They were just picked up by sensors on Zvezda One. Here at the jumpgate, they haven’t even registered yet, and won’t for another two hours—everything we’ve got is by subnet feed from Zvezda One. They appear to have...m
aterialized...in open space not far from Cierren Cythra. They are headed in your general direction. Our current supposition is that they intend to bombard the planet. Before you ask, we will not be able to interfere. They outgun us by a factor of four to one. Besides, our fleet is still concentrated at the jumpgate, more than six hours from being able to do anything useful. I suggest that you get the hell out of there and hope that the Ferethers are only interested in the planet. On our end, we are preparing to surrender the system, if need be. There is a Hokozana presence in the Irribarren system beyond the jumpgate. If the Ferethers look like they’re headed our way, we’re bugging out of here.”
“They’re going to exterminate the Cythrans, aren’t they?” said Lori.
Marcolis looked grim. “It looks that way to us. We assume that the Ferethers we saw on Zvezda One were sent to assess the threat. Like us, they must have decided that the Cythrans are probably a weapon engineered to strike at the Ferethers. Looks like they decided to get rid of the problem before the weapon came fully online.”
“Many years before,” said Maxim. “The Cythrans aren’t going to be in any position to harm the Ferethers for some time.”
“True,” said Marcolis, “but we probably inadvertently forced the Ferethers’ hand. If the Cythrans had joined Hokozana, the Ferethers would have lost all control of the situation. They’ve decided to preempt us, DiJeRiCo, and everyone else.”
“They’re going to waste the whole planet, aren’t they?” said Lori.
“We think so, yes. It’s the only way they can be sure.”
“All those lives.”
Even over the net, Asher could sense the gloom that had settled over everyone as they thought about the holocaust that was to come. More than ten million Cythrans would die. Not just the bioengineered plains dwellers, but the wild forest Cythrans to. Also all the flutterbats, all the strange plants and animals that made up Cierren Cythra’s biosphere. All of it gone in the blink of an eye. “Sir,” he said addressing Marcolis. “We have a decision to make.”
“We do?”
“If we can save some of the Cythrans—the bioengineered ones, I mean—should we?”
Lori gasped. Maxim turned his penetrating gaze on Asher. “Do you mean to land again and bring them out in Slipstream, Donald? The Ferethers would know. It could be seen as a declaration of war.”
“Let’s assume that there’s another way. One that doesn’t involve Hokozana ships at all. At least, not anywhere near Cierren Cythra. Is it worth it?”
Marcolis’ avatar’s eyes glazed over while he communicated with someone else on a different net.
“What do you plan to do, Asher?” asked Lori. Asher was too busy putting together a hasty briefing packet to explain. “I’ll show you in a minute. Let’s see what the higher-ups have to say.”
Marcolis reengaged with them. “I take it we’ll be risking you in this venture, Donnie?”
“That’s right, Sir. Just me.”
“And me,” said Kaz. Asher smiled. The big man was right there with him and without even knowing what the plan was yet. He should have expected that.
“OK, Donnie. Let’s see your plan.” Asher uploaded the half-assed briefing he had worked out. Marcolis considered it a moment, and conferred off-net briefly. “Fine, Donnie, it’s a go. You and Kazmalewski only. Good luck. Cormorant will wait at the coordinates you describe. If you’re lucky, the Ferethers will ignore us and you’ll have seven or eight hours. If you’re unlucky...” he didn’t have to finish the thought.
“Thank you, Sir. Asher out.”
“Marcolis out.”
He looked around. His father was looking at him aghast. Lori had concern etched all over her face. “Asher...” she began.
He held up one hand to cut her off. “It’s crazy, I know. But it’s a chance. Maybe we can save something out of this mess.” He turned to Kaz. “Ready to get off this wreck?”
“Heck yeah,” said the big man. “Let’s hit the dirt already.”
The two security men stood and proceeded to the aft cargo bay where Slipstream carried its built-in drop-pod. They were met there by the shuttle’s Security op. “Thirty seconds,” she said, as she closed and secured the door behind Asher and Kaz. Strapping himself in, Asher mentally counted down the moments until Slipstream was behind the planet in relation to the Ferether fleet. When he got to thirty, the drop-pod plummeted out of the bay.
Chapter Fifteen
Slipstream made a ballistic drop, slinging the drop pod out to arc across the face of the planet below. They hit atmo less than three seconds later, the friction first hurling the two security men forward before pressing them hard into the backs of their crash seats. They had turned into a meteor, blazing a bright trail across the skies above Cierren Cythra. Asher fervently hoped that the pilot had calculated the arc just right. They needed to come down in the fields just outside Marateen. Asher glanced over at Kaz, who gave him a thumbs up, looking for all the world like he was on a pleasure cruise. Asher couldn’t help but smile in return.
The arcing descent took five very rough minutes, but finally Asher felt the retro-thruster kick in, slowing the drop pod and turning its descent from steeply-arced to near-vertical. Moments after they cut out, the drogues deployed, cutting some of the velocity and supposedly lining the pod up over its intended landing site. Finally, after a few seconds of free fall, the chutes deployed and the pod settled into an easy controlled descent. They drifted down for five minutes or so, their course adjusted minutely by the thrusters. Finally, the pod thudded to jarring halt. “We’re down,” said Asher, snapping off his seatbelt and climbing out of the crash seat. “Let’s see if they managed to put us on the money.”
The pod airlock opened onto a seemingly endless field of waxy leaves. Little red flowers poked out above the blue-green sea here and there. Immediately around the pod was a halo of crushed stalks and torn leaves. The plants certainly looked like some kind of crops in a huge field. They weren’t the same as the plants with the large fruits Asher remembered from the trip to Long House, but they seemed to be planted in sweeping rows, and there were channels in between that might serve for routing water to the roots. Asher leaned back to glance at Kaz, who was unloading their gear from the storage locker. “I guess we’re here.” Kaz only grunted.
Asher stepped out of the lock onto the mat of crushed plants. He made his way quickly around the pod to look east. His net told him Marateen lay in that direction. He couldn’t see anything but blue-green plants. Kaz joined him as he stood. “Satellites say it’s just a klick that way,” said the big man, waving his pulse rifle to indicate a vaguely easterly direction. “You’d think we’d be able to see it from here.”
“Well,” said Asher, hefting his force gun, “Time is of the essence, right? Let’s move. Got your mental map uploaded?”
Kaz tapped his forehead just above his right eye. “Right here.” The big man set off in the lead, moving at a quick clip. Despite his bulk, he managed to slide among the close-set plants with agile grace. Asher followed, mentally checking his own map of the route to Qwadaleemia’s creche.
The kilometer melted away in minutes and they came to a low rise, the only real relief anywhere on the plains. It was just an inconsequential fold in the landscape, but it effectively hid the mud walls of Marateen until suddenly, at its crest, the town unfolded before them. The spaceport was well away to the northeast, which should put the courtyard of Qwadaleemia’s creche just below them and a little to the south.
Kaz slowed as they entered the narrow alleys of the city. They had to pass through a quarter of the town that had none of the open roadways used by Cythran drivers to tear around in their groundcars. Instead, the area was densely packed with modestly-sized courtyards connected by passageways and alleys, many of which were too narrow for Asher and Kaz to walk side by side. Most of the buildings were two or even three stories tall. In the gloom at the foot of the earth-colored walls, Asher felt that he was jogging through a slot canyon, rather than an
ything made by sentient beings.
They found that the creche-courtyards they came to were lightly populated. In the first two, they saw no one save for several male Cythrans. For the most part, these laborers looked at the passing humans with indifference. One or two appeared to be alarmed or puzzled, but none of them made any move to hinder their passage. In the third courtyard, three females were playing some kind of game with a group of youngsters. These mothers, or guardians, or whatever they were reacted with open fear to the passing of the Hokozana men. They burbled in alarm and gathered their charges close. Fortunately, none of them had any of the small projectile weapons that the mob at the spaceport had carried.
Things started to change by the time they reached the fourth courtyard, five away from Qwadaleemia’s creche. Asher saw two female Cythrans bolting across the open space, making for an alleyway leading north. One of these fired a wild shot from one of the tendril-guns, striking high on the mud wall above Asher’s head, where the projectile raised a little puff of dust.
In the next courtyard, they found two females entrenched behind a makeshift barricade. Fortunately, it was located off to the north, on an alley that led in the direction of the spaceport. The alley Asher and Kaz needed, which headed south, was blockaded, but unmanned. The big man barreled right through the makeshift barricade while a wild shot pinged off of the corner of the building to his right. Asher pulled up and fired his pulse gun twice into the wall above the two Cythran guards. A pile of dirt and rubble came crashing down between them, knocking one from her feet and causing the other to turn in alarm. Before they had recovered, Asher had slid through the opening Kaz had made and was running down the alley beyond.