“Yes, sir,” said Helen. “Steg de Coeur has recovered most of his memories. His system communication abilities also have returned. We—well, the Complex—recorded his use of those abilities and backtracked him to a small starship. The Complex confirmed his time location and we now know it had sent de Coeur back to an Imperial hospital starship in 1650 PD. The portion of the system managing the Ebony Project had previously refused to disclose the time dimension of his possible location; we think it was trying to hide its reach into the past.”
The First Senior ignored the details about the Complex’s time-reach ability. It was not new knowledge for him. “He’s safe?”
“As far as we can determine. He’s been separated from the Ebony sword, so we don’t have detailed information.”
“Separated? How did that happen?”
Tobias replied, “According to the Glass Complex, at first the sword was too damaged to communicate its report. It initiated a self-repair routine, aided by the Complex; however, it was badly damaged from that blaster attack. Then de Coeur ran into some difficulties, we have a separate report on those, and gave Ebony to a doctor on the hospital ship for safekeeping. She—that is, Dr. Yi—has an excellent record for treating head injuries. The difficulties de Coeur encountered were almost fatal. He was sentenced to death by an ImpSec tribunal while he was still regaining his memories. We almost lost him.”
“I’ll be interested to hear that report. What is he doing, now?”
Tobias and Helen exchanged glances. Helen said, “We don’t know, yet. The starship he’s on is part of some kind of mercenary outfit. He’ll be at risk until we get him off the ship.”
“What about Ebony? Can we recover the sword?” the First Senior asked.
“We’re going to try,” Helen replied. “We believe we can use the Glass Complex time-reach ability to set up a recovery plan. Dr. Yi has retired; she’s now located on an outlying Imperial planet called Freedom. We’ve run some scenarios, and if we use Ebony to influence her, we can arrange for her to surrender the sword. There’s one of Homeworld’s banking subsidiaries on the planet and we could have it act on our behalf. Once Ebony’s under our control, we can use a number of techniques to either get it back to de Coeur, or return it to us, here and now.”
“Very well. Now, I want you to be careful. No one—and I mean no one—is to be informed about the time aspects of the functionality of the Glass Complex. Not even the Second Senior.” The First Senior Acolyte diverted his attention to the Glass Complex and its data flows. After a minute or so, he returned his attention to the two Acolytes and said, “The Ebony Project is now sealed and details cannot be released outside this office. I have established a mandatory prohibition, understand?”
The two Acolytes nodded their understanding. Helen said, “We had reached that conclusion, Senior.”
Breach of a mandatory prohibition imposed by the First Senior Acolyte would be regarded as treason by Homeworld’s legal system and would attract extreme penalties. Details of the rules that governed the Glass Complex, and the penalties for their breach, were included in Acolyte training.
The First Senior said, “Good. Continue the project. Provide me with a report on the ImpSec difficulties. Implement a recovery program for Ebony. As soon as you have more updates regarding de Coeur, contact me immediately. The Glass Complex indicates his survival is critical for Homeworld, although I have no idea how he will be retrieved from 1650 PD.”
*****
Chapter 19
Steg made himself comfortable on his bunk. He had almost complete memories of all of his past, including details of Homeworld, Castlehome, the planet’s capital, the Acolytes, and of the computer complex—the Glass Complex—located beneath the huge castle. He missed his sword, Ebony. Somehow the weapon aided the abilities that allowed him to take control of starships and to communicate with and influence major systems complexes. He’d listened to the songs of the stars; now, he wanted to explore his reach and strength, to confirm his ability to detect distant electronic signals and messages.
He closed his eyes. He relaxed his mind and let it settle into a calm stillness. He drifted away from Wasp until it became a speck in the reaches of space. He sensed starship traffic in far off shipping lanes; there were freighters, liners, and military vessels, all light years away. His attention was caught by a distant planet, which almost overloaded his senses with its undisciplined outpourings. He could spend hours roaming from signal to signal. Mindful of the urgency of his task, he moved his focus back towards Wasp and began to search space in its vicinity. Steg worked outwards from the starship, gradually expanding his scope towards the expected location of the freighter with its Xesset escort. Time passed, unmeasured. At last he found the freighter, on course for its expected destination. He waited, watching, his senses tuned to detect communications between the freighter and a Xesset ship. At last a short burst of green and red symbols caught his attention—the freighter was in contact with its alien escort, exchanging messages. The contents were unintelligible; he assumed they were in Xesset language-based codes. He tracked the communications and found the escorting starship; it was within a parsec of the freighter, close enough to protect it if someone attacked the starship with its load of weapons and far enough away to be overlooked by anyone checking on the freighter.
He had discovered one Xesset vessel escorting the freighter. He needed more; according to Monty, the Xesset had a total of three starships on their way to Eos. Steg waited, monitoring the two starships for new transmissions. At last his attention was caught by a short burst of electronic data from the escort. It was another directed signal, and he tracked it to its destination. He had found the remaining Xesset starships, and they were heading away from the freighter. He had enough data. He fed the location and heading details of all the starships into Wasp’s computer system. He would update the details later; in the meantime the computer would churn the numbers to confirm two of the starships were on a heading to reach the likely attack point. If not, he would re-address his assumptions. Exhausted, he slept.
###
Steg’s dreams of Castlehome were shattered by the piercing shrill of Wasp’s emergency alarm. The howling sound removed all thoughts of sleep, and he jumped out of bed, wide-awake. The noise was joined by a pounding on his cabin door. He looked out—one of his armored guards was at the door.
“Sir, the alien has broken out of his tank. Captain Dean—”
“Tell him I’ll join him in the war room.” Steg had slept in his clothes. He tugged on his boots and left his cabin at a run, followed by his two guards.
The violent, almost ear-shattering sound of the alarm was easing off as Steg arrived. Kirby was closest to the door when Steg entered the war room. “Well, Kirby, what’s happening?”
“Sir, Monty’s exited through a lock into level 5, above his interview room. We have him on camera. He’s about to encounter teams from Dean’s company. They’re good, experienced.”
“Show me.”
The small operational team moved back to allow Steg to view both the camera shots and the multi-dimensional hologram of the starship showing where Monty had exited his tank. There were four red symbols displayed on the hologram, tagged as intruders.
“It’s Monty and three of his wives. They’re wearing strange armor. We’ve got them on screen,” Dean said as he joined Steg. “We tagged them—see the red stars? All armor HUDs will show them as enemies, no second guessing required.”
“Everyone, including us, should be wearing exo-armor,” Steg said. “In case Monty and his wives manage to break through a section.”
“It’s only you and me without armor. Your company and the marines from Delta and Charlie are armored. Crew and ship’s officers are all behind reinforced barricades; it’s a standard process. The bridge and command decks are well protected. I’m not sure about Attwood and his cronies—they could be anywhere. We cut off their access to exo-armor.” Dean sounded as though he also didn’t care.
Steg examined the image on the viewscreen. He said, “Monty should be near the first line of booby-traps?”
“Any moment now. The teams are waiting for the traps to trigger before they react. Our mines are all anti-personnel stuff—we’ll end up with scarred paintwork, I suppose. We’ll start with armor-piercing flechettes and switch to more powerful anti-armor explosive shells, if necessary. The only thing—the way he’s headed, I’m not sure Monty’ll take our bait and retreat towards the shuttle bays. I think he wants the primary command deck.”
“We can stop him?”
“Yeah,” Kirby said.
Steg worried his confidence might be misplaced.
The sergeant said, “Watch on the screen—they’re about to hit the detector beams. I’ll also relay comms from the teams.”
Everyone in the war room halted their other activities to watch the action unfolding on the screen. Monty, covered in a flexible armor, was using two pairs of his tentacles for walking; the result was a cumbersome, stiff-legged gait. He held a heavy weapon in each of the other two pairs of tentacles. His three wives, each only half Monty’s size, were following his lead, struggling with smaller weapons.
“If size is any indication, Monty could do some damage with those guns,” Kirby said. “We’ve adjusted gravity to 3 in the corridor to make it more difficult for them to maneuver.”
As he spoke, the corridor exploded in fire and smoke as rows of anti-personnel mines, hidden in the walls, exploded outwards, targeting the aliens. Steg heard the wash of harsh explosive sounds over the comms link with the squad leader. He checked the screen—the marines were moving forward, trusting their exo-armor shields. An AWE was in advance, and it commenced firing heavy caliber flechette blasts down the corridor at the aliens.
The squad commander instructed his men, “A Team, open fire. Aim for legs or arms. B Team, prepare to lay down covering fire.” A hail of intensive weapons fire filled the corridor.
Steg caught glimpses of the armored cephalopods through waves of smoke wafting along the corridor. Monty’s wives, smaller and lighter, were knocked down by the force of numerous projectile impacts and were struggling to aim and fire their weapons. Monty had been hit in the tentacles he was using to walk. Steg watched as the alien dropped to the floor and began readying his two weapons. The rapid fire from A Team was creating major difficulties for the cephalopod. At last, it seemed Monty was ready, and sprays of lighting streamed out from the barrel of each of his strange weapons.
“What the hell is he using?” Kirby muttered.
The lightning spray hit one of the marines, and his scream was cut short as the full impact roasted his exo-armor.
“Switch to anti-armor, now. Both teams, fire at will,” ordered Dean.
The fire rate increased, and Steg could hear the heavier caliber weapons from the AWE. Exploding shells impacted the aliens who were struggling with their weapons. Steg thought there was a likelihood more than paint would be stripped from the walls by the heavier fire. Two of Monty’s wives had suffered direct hits from the missiles, and their armor had ruptured, the water content adding steam to the clouds of smoke in the corridor. Monty’s weapons were no longer firing. They had been hit and damaged by the AWE shells. Monty was scrambling on the floor, trying to join his wives, two of whom had ceased to move. The third, smaller alien had also ceased fire; she was attempting to attend to her two fellow wives.
The heavy fire from the AWE impacted Monty’s armor, causing it to freeze up. The alien was struggling to survive but had not yet given in. He stripped off parts of his armor apparently to regain mobility in spite of the dangers of exposure. His armor was leaking water. He was struggling to reach his wives and at the same time was trying to reset his lightning generator weapons.
“Target everything on Monty,” Dean commanded. His instruction was followed by another rapid burst of fire from his teams. The shells exploded, and their force lifted Monty into the air, slamming him against the bulkhead at the end of the corridor. He rolled, tentacles moving aimlessly, out of control. He was unable to stand; he was weaponless and the impacts of exploding projectiles had pushed him away from his wives. His tentacles thrashed and twisted. Steg enlarged the image on the screen, focusing in on Monty. His tentacles were seeking and grabbing mindlessly, using their razor sharp teeth to flense whatever they contacted, including other tentacles; their ability to safeguard their parent body was lost due to severe injuries. A pool of water, purple blood, and stripped flesh built around the formless bulk that had been Monty.
“Cease fire,” Dean said.
There was no movement from the cephalopod aliens. Smoke and steam whirled and gradually cleared as the ventilator fans reacted to clear the air. The silence was a sudden shock after so much noise.
“It’s a pity Monty was so focused on getting to the command deck,” Dean said. He and Steg watched as the A Team leader moved his men forward to examine each of the aliens.
“Tell him to take care; their bodies could be booby-trapped,” suggested Steg.
“Done—part of SOP,” Dean replied.
The marine completed his examination of each of the four armored aliens. He triggered a communication to the war room as he stood. “They’re all dead.”
“Well done,” said Dean. “I’ll send you some support to clean up. We taped it all; you can watch the replay later if you want. What happened to your man?”
“Sadly, he’s dead. The lightning blast split open his armor and electrocuted him. Monty’s weapons were more powerful than we expected. We’re fortunate he didn’t get an opportunity to set them up properly.”
Steg said to Kirby and Dean, “We need to determine a response to his weapon in case the Xesset have them.”
Kirby said, “What if we turned on the fire sprinklers—would that ground them?”
The two men nodded.
Dean said, “We can do some tests.”
Steg added. “Also consider installing steel mesh in the ceilings. If we dropped mesh on anyone carrying a lightning weapon, it might ground it or cause it to backfire towards the shooter. Lots more testing needed.”
“I’ll organize some men for the task,” Dean said.
“What about Monty’s fourth wife—at least he said he had four?” Steg asked.
“We still have the communication link we used before. I’ll try to make contact. She might answer,” Kirby said.
“Tell her we’ll accept her surrender, and in turn we’ll provide and maintain an adequate environment until we can land her somewhere suitable.”
“Monty always was the spokesperson,” Dean said. “She may not be able to speak to us.”
“Understood. Kirby, see what you can do. Dean, we need to empty and examine the tank in any case—it could be mined. I can’t imagine Monty would miss an opportunity to damage us if he was defeated. As for his surviving wife, if necessary, we’ll build a temporary tank to house a small cephalopod. Can you get your engineers to start working on those tasks?” Steg said.
“I’ll check. They found another five collapsible bladders so they can drain off a lot more water if necessary. They may have a solution for emptying the containers into space. I’ll arrange for a team to search for explosives or traps. I’m sure we can do something for the survivor.”
“Good. I’ll be with Commander Gillespie. Keep me updated. Tell the men well done.”
*****
Chapter 20
The bridge of Wasp was fully manned with everyone watching as the starship’s Helm edged the starship up to the asteroid belt, seeking a gap where she could position and hide Wasp amongst the huge tumbling rocks. Steg thought the woman was Tacian; she was surprising petite, with vivid green hair and her eyes changed color between shades of blue and green, seemingly on a random basis. She appeared to be barely out of her teens. The maneuver was completed without incident, and the bridge officers applauded. She turned to the commander, a relieved smile on her face. “I don’t want to do that again, ever,” she said
. “I aged about fifteen years, I’m sure.”
“It was well done, Aadan,” Joyce Gillespie said. “I had complete faith in you.” The commander addressed the bridge. “Now we’ll wait for the Xesset. Our last report indicates they’ll be in this region in approximately seven hours. We’ll cloak in six hours. Remember, we need to run silently—no signals, no outbound communications, and minimum electronic activity.”
When the commander completed her instructions, Steg said, “You have an excellent bridge team. Aadan is outstanding.”
“I agree. She’s invaluable. How did Monty’s attack end?”
“The alien’s dead. He charged out with three of his wives in support. They were also killed. We think there’s one survivor although we haven’t managed to contact her yet. We’ll have to convince her we don’t mean harm unless she attacks us. The problem will be to get her back to her home planet once this is all over. Maybe Wasp can take a trip when you complete this assignment?”
“I suppose we could help. Let me know when you’ve managed to communicate with her.”
“I’ll keep you updated. How are you progressing?”
“As you saw, we’ve moved into the edge of the asteroid belt. We laid out passive sensor stations on the way in. They communicate on a directed narrow beam, which should be undetectable by the Xesset. The sensors expand our observational reach. We’ll know if a ship arrives anywhere within five light minutes or so. I’ll get Weapon’s team to show you, when you have time.”
“I’ll look forward to their demo. Have you seen the colonel? I worry when I don’t know what he might be up to.”
“No.” She paused, tapping her fingers on her command console. She continued. “He has been very quiet. You’ve alarmed me, now. I’ll have some of my crew check for him and his companions. You might organize your men to do the same. I suggest you start with the priestess—they could be with her.”
Fracture Lines (The Glass Complex Book 2) Page 13
