Nimbus

by Jacey Bedford

  *I could lose my job over this, Ben, or worse.*

  *I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.*

  *How important?*

  *There’s an entity in foldspace that would like to wipe out every single human being in the galaxy.*

  Jess was silent.

  *You know I’m not prone to flights of fancy, Jess.*

  *I know, I know. It’s just . . . a lot to take in.*

  *I have a very well-respected professor of astrophysics on Crossways who can actually prove there’s something there, but sending you her dissertation will take more time than I have. Please, Jess, you know what you found out about the returnees doesn’t make sense unless there’s something in the Folds. Get me those statistics, and I’ll tell you exactly what it is, but you’re not going to like it.*

  Jessop swore. *I don’t need to look it up. I was curious enough to check. As far as I can work out, over the last five years almost seven thousand ships have gone missing.*

  Cara felt Ben stop to take a deep breath. She held the communication steady even though she was reeling.

  Seven thousand ships, and no one had joined the dots. Or, if they had, they weren’t willing to reveal their findings because this was so massive it threatened everything the megacorporations held dear—namely profit, profit, and profit.

  *How many souls?* Ben asked.

  *Nearly a million and a half—and that’s only the last five years.*

  *Are any of them military ships?*

  *Some, and a few of ours—Monitor transports.*

  *Shit!*

  *Now you’re worrying me, Ben. What do I need to know?*

  Ben told him about the Nimbus and what they’d found out about its reasons for wanting to wipe out humankind.

  *I’d ask if you’re sure, but—*

  *I’m sure. Whether I can get your bosses and the megacorps to believe me remains to be seen, but we’re going to meet with the independents in the Crossways Protectorate and suggest closing down their jump gates before something comes through them.*

  Cara let the communication drop as Ben withdrew. Already she had an incipient headache, and this was just the first of many calls she was going to have to make.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  WARNINGS

  *ARE YOU OKAY?* BEN ASKED CARA.

  They’d made fifteen calls so far, which was exhausting for a Telepath, even one as strong as Cara.

  *Yes. Get on with it.*

  Short and snappy. She was tired, and she was still mad at him. He couldn’t blame her for being mad, but he could do something about the tiredness.

  *I need a break even if you don’t. Let’s take an hour.*

  She pulled out of his head without any of the usual niceties. He took a deep breath. If that was the way she wanted to play it, then he’d oblige and keep everything between them strictly business.

  Ben needed food. He still didn’t feel like sauntering down to the canteen as if nothing had happened and contemplated sending out for a tray, but he had to face the Free Company sooner or later.

  Ada Levenson and her team served up food at all hours, but there was always a crush at lunchtime. Ben had hoped to slink into a table by himself, but they were all occupied, though not all full. He spotted Ronan at the same time as Ronan spotted him. The medic jerked his head to the empty seat opposite him in invitation.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind eating with a pariah?” Ben asked.

  “I doubt you’re a pariah. Besides, I’ve done more idiotic things in the past than share lunch with someone who’s out of favor, and will probably do so in the future. Not that I think it’s a problem for most people. Sit down, Ben, before the rubbernecking couple behind you pull muscles and I have to fix them up. People aren’t blaming you. They’re relieved to have an answer. They may not like it, but it’s better than not knowing what’s going on.”

  Ben looked around. Most of the people were simply getting on with eating lunch. He wasn’t drawing unwanted attention. Maybe Ronan was right.

  “You’re being hard on yourself,” Ronan said. “Much harder than anyone else is going to be. Apart from all the guilt you’ve been wallowing in, how’s it going?”

  Ben took a mouthful of what might be vat protein in a sweet-and-sour sauce and then told him about Jessop’s estimate of ship losses.

  “That’s not good.” Ronan played with his fork, the remains of his lunch cooling on his plate.

  “Understatement of the century. How’s it going with Kitty Keely?”

  “Trying deep regression. I haven’t triggered anything monumental yet. I was hoping I might be able to find out what had happened to her, but she’s resolute. Her story is real as far as she’s concerned. Even telling her the date and proving how long she was missing doesn’t stir anything. It’s as if she simply slides away from inconvenient facts.”

  “Let me know if—”

  “Of course. Syke is spending as much time with Kitty as he can. He says she hasn’t changed, but I still have them separated by the clear wall.”

  “Do you think Kitty can communicate with the Nimbus?”

  Ronan shrugged. “There’s no indication either way. She still claims it doesn’t exist.”

  “With Garrick’s blessing, I’m calling all the heads of the Protectorate planets. As soon as we can provide them with jump drives, we intend to close down their gates.”

  “Have you enough pilots?”

  “Not yet. We’ll be running a crash course—no pun intended—for any of their pilots who show aptitude. Jake, Naomi Patel, and the Magena twins will be tutors while Captain Dorinska takes the Glory Road to Vraxos to see if she can recruit a few more pilots who can see the dragon.”

  “This whole thing, closing the jump gates, will be a huge shift for humans in space. Are you sure it’s necessary?”

  “I’d be monumentally relieved if anyone could come up with another solution, but the jump gates are our weakness. The more gates we close, the more concentrated travel through the others will be, so any ships using them will be more vulnerable, and the colonies nearby will be the first targets for the returnees. Every gate we close pushes the risk further down the line until we close the last one.”

  “You say the jump gates are vulnerable, but we haven’t lost any ships through the Crossways gate, have we?”

  “I have a theory, though it’s only a theory at this stage. If our ships and jump gates discharge platinum into the Folds, the highest concentrations will be where the most traffic is. The Crossways gate has only been in position for the last year, so there’s not much buildup yet.”

  “Which surely means the large jump gate hubs are going to be the most vulnerable.”

  “I’m afraid so, but they are hugely profitable, so getting their owners to believe us is going to be difficult.”

  “Almost impossible, I should say, unless you can convince another organization to back you.”

  Ben scrubbed his forehead with his fingertips. “They might believe the Monitors.”

  “How will you convince the Monitors?”

  “I’ll offer them something they want.”

  “What would that be?”

  “Me.” He laughed at Ronan’s expression. “I’d better get back.” Ben left his sweet and sour half-eaten and strode toward his office.

  *Cara! Break’s over. Are you okay to go again?*

  *Ready when you are.*

  *Get me Jessop again, please.*

  *You want what?* Jessop said.

  Ben could tell Jessop had rolled out of bed and straight on to his feet.

  *I want to talk to Eve Moyo and Sebastian Rodriguez.*

  *I haven’t the authority . . .*

  *Come off it, Jess., You have a hotline to the top when you need one. Go through Moyo if you have to.*

  *Moyo trained you, di
dn’t she?*

  *She trains all the class one Navigators for the Monitors.*

  *Will she remember you?*

  *Oh, yes.* Ben left it at that since it was Cara handling this call. He’d been a precocious student—in more ways than one. *If possible, I’d like to speak to Moyo and Rodriguez at the same time. She’s responsible for feeding this foldspace illusion crap to a whole generation of Monitor Navigators.*

  *How am I going to do that?*

  *Tell them I’m willing to give myself up.*

  “Are you mad?” Cara stood, fists on hips, in Ben’s office doorway. “You’re willing to give yourself up?”

  “To the Monitors, not the Trust.”

  “As if that makes any difference. How many crimes have they laid at your door? You’ll be on a prison planet for the rest of your life—and that’s only if Crowder doesn’t manage to have you done away with while you’re awaiting trial.”

  “I didn’t know you cared.”

  “I don’t.” She was glad she’d been able to say that in words. It was much more difficult to lie mind-to-mind. “I don’t, but you have a job to do, and you can’t do it from inside a prison cell or incarcerated on a prison planet with your implant disabled.”

  “Don’t tear yourself up about it. I said I’d give myself up. I didn’t say when.”

  If Ben promised he’d do something, he’d do it.

  “How long have you been planning this?”

  He shrugged.

  “Of all the blasted, stupid . . . brainless . . . you’re punishing yourself for what happened with Liv, aren’t you? We’re not going to do it, so you’ll make sure you get what’s coming to you from the Monitors.”

  He looked her straight in the eyes, his face unreadable. “In the meantime, please can we continue to contact the Protectorate planets?”

  She nodded. There wasn’t much else she could do. Damned, bloody infuriating man!

  Another three hours and eighteen more planets, and Cara was faltering.

  *Take a break. Get some sleep,* Ben said. *Laurie Gilmartin can take a short shift.*

  She nodded and realized he couldn’t see her. *Thanks, I will. Call me if—*

  *There won’t be anything that can’t wait until morning.*

  *Yeah, right, because I always get an unbroken night’s sleep.*

  *If it’s any consolation, I don’t sleep so well, either.*

  *It isn’t.*

  “Sleep,” she said to Wenna as she emerged from the comms cubicle.

  “Yeah, thanks for the reminder, I’ll try it sometime,” Wenna said. “How did it go?”

  “Over half the colonies contacted.”

  “And?”

  “They’re not happy, but they know what happened on Butterstone and Jamundi, and they’re not stupid. Ben’s given them all the assurances he can. They’ll have jumpships and pilots to fly them on the understanding they’ll be working toward self-sufficiency. A few have pointed out that once the Crossways fleet has a monopoly on transport, we can hike up the prices. Ben has assured them the jumpships won’t belong to Crossways, and it will be up to the colonies how they use them. I’m not sure he could do more than that.”

  “It sounds fair. It’s a deal I’d take if I ran a colony—but then I know what it’s like when death comes screaming out of the sky.” Wenna massaged her elbow, even though it was entirely part of the prosthetic.

  Cara thought about it on her way to her new apartment. It was a good deal, or at least it was better than annihilation by a horde of recently resurrected space zombies. She giggled, not that space zombies was a particularly appropriate description in this instance, but you had to get your laughs where you could in these dark times.

  She was too tired to eat, but forced herself to chew down the sandwich Wenna had forced on her and drink a large glass of water before switching on a mindless entertainment channel. The program, some historical crime drama set on Earth, was interrupted by an advert for men and women with engineering and technical skills to apply to be part of an exciting new project on Olyanda. The ad offered good wages, productivity bonuses, and fast advancement for individuals with initiative. Accommodation provided for transferees from Crossways. It looked like Garrick was making a start on the production of jump drives.

  She missed the rest of the show on account of falling asleep in her chair, waking only to go pee, strip off her clothes, and fall into her lonely bed.

  Dammit! She should have set her damping pin if she wanted unbroken sleep. An incoming telepathic handshake roused her at what her handpad said was six a.m. but felt more like two. She didn’t feel as though she’d had a full eight hours, but she had.

  *Who?*

  *Jessop for Benjamin.*

  *He’s not here and . . .* She reached out for Ben. *Dammit—I think he’s wearing a damper. Long story, Jess. We’ve had someone on station dishing out dreams like they were peanuts at a cocktail party. Can you give me five minutes to get dressed and find him?*

  *I’m at Monitor HQ in Shield City, talking through one of their class one Telepaths. Both Mrs. Moyo and Commissioner Rodriguez want to talk to Ben urgently. Can you schedule a meeting in fifteen minutes?*

  *Yes, I can do that.*

  She deliberately didn’t ask any more questions with the Monitor Telepath listening in. Instead, she hauled herself out of bed and staggered into the shower, leaning against the massage wall for a bit of comfort. It wasn’t a substitute for Ben.

  Don’t think about that now.

  The outer office door read her handpad and opened. It was still too early for Wenna.

  Ben’s door wasn’t locked.

  “Ben!” She knocked anyway before going in.

  He’d obviously been asleep, but had always had the ability to pass from sleep to wakefulness without the intermediate woolly stage. He met her at the door of his sleeping cubicle wearing nothing more than his skin.

  “Where’s the fire?”

  “No fire, just a meeting in . . .” She checked her handpad. “Four minutes from now. Ms. Moyo and Commissioner Rodriguez. Get dressed.”

  He glanced down. “Do I sound different without my clothes on?”

  “No, but I do.” She turned her back on him and walked out, knowing that whatever she felt about Ben Benjamin, it wasn’t indifference.

  He joined her in exactly three and a half minutes in Wenna’s office, still fastening the cuffs on his buddysuit.

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Ready.” She sat in one of the visitor chairs. Ben took the other. She reached out for Jessop’s mind and found him almost immediately. *Ready when you are, Captain Jessop. I have Commander Benjamin here with me.*

  *Allow me to introduce Telepath Sweeting who will be facilitating for Commissioner Rodriguez, and Telepath Stafford who will be facilitating for Professor Moyo.*

  Cara felt the handshakes from two powerful Telepaths and acknowledged them. She glanced at Ben. “Are you ready?”

  “Ready.”

  Cara brought Ben in, then slipped into the background. She felt each of the other Telepaths do the same.

  *Reska Benjamin,* Ben identified himself.

  *Eve Moyo.*

  *Sebastian Rodriguez. What’s all this about, Benjamin? You have a string of indictments against you as long as my arm. I’m only here because of a very strong representation from Prime Jessop and Professor Moyo.*

  *I appreciate that. Thank you for your time, sir.*

  *Hello, Ben.*

  *Hello, Eve. It’s been a while.*

  *Yes, it has.*

  Cara hardly had time to wonder at their warm greeting.

  *Benjamin, Prime Jessop has given me a set of very worrying statistics that he’s been working on. Ship losses. I gather you have information for us,* Rodriguez said.

  *I do. Very disturbi
ng information, and that’s why I wanted Eve, Professor Moyo, here as well. She’s no doubt told you she trained me to fly a jumpship.*

  *Yes, she did. I believe you were a class one Navigator.*

  *Still am, sir. Don’t let the new implant fool you. Professor Moyo, at the time I did my training, it was the accepted wisdom to tell pilots and Navigators that anything they might see in the Folds was entirely imagined, and foldspace hallucinations were only to be expected.*

  *Yes,* Moyo said.

  *Even though you knew it wasn’t true.*

  *It keeps them safe.*

  *Except they’re not safe, are they?* Ben said. *Not now.*

  There was a silence during which Cara could imagine Moyo and Rodriguez looking at each other and wondering how much to admit to. Moyo did the mental equivalent of clearing her throat, stalling for time.

  Cara glanced across at Ben, his face intent as he concentrated on the conversation.

  *How many ship losses that no one has admitted to?* Ben asked, but no one answered. *Eve, I know you. You’re too smart to close your mind to it, whatever the official line. How many separate life-forms have you found in foldspace so far?* Again that pause. *If you want to know what I know, you have to give me something in return.*

  *Two,* Moyo said. *We think there are two distinct life-forms in the Folds.*

  Ben glanced across at Cara and mouthed, “Two!”

  She widened her eyes in reply.

  *Is one of your life-forms a black cloud that swallows ships whole? We call it the Nimbus.* Ben asked.

  *No.*

  *Then make that three. Tell me about yours and then I’ll tell you about the Nimbus.*

  *There’s one that looks like a dragon,* Moyo said.

  *With prehensile claws in its beard?*

  *That’s the one. It’s telepathic, but it doesn’t have language. We don’t know if there’s one or many.*

  *Many, I think,* Ben said. *but they may all be mentally connected. What one knows they all know, unless we’ve only ever been dealing with the same one. We’re making a start on the language thing. More on that later.*