His analysts and senior officers had gone to rest or to their posts a long time ago, but still he stayed, brooding over the facts.
If Apta had been Heik’s agent, then she could have been manipulating him since the moment they met on Seo Cire. While she deflected him from the Locc’s real trail, Heik was surging ahead in his search.
He picked up a stone tablet, spinning it on the table as he turned the possibilities over in his mind. But Heik himself had said that he was surprised when Apta contacted him.
Something had changed, he thought. Something had changed between the moment Apta met him, and the moment she decided to betray him to Heik.
He tried not to let his mind linger too much on her betrayal, but it was futile. He thought of the long nights she’d spent in his bed, the heat in her eyes when he took her, the long talks they shared about the galaxy and the Empire and the Locc.
The most obvious answer was that it was all a lie, that she had meant to betray him from the beginning.
But his instincts rebelled against that conclusion.
You’re getting sentimental in your old age, he chided himself.
He rubbed his forehead. Fourteen straight hours of work was finally beginning to affect him.
Two hours of sleep. Then I’ll get back to it. He stood up quickly. The stone tablet spun across the table and clicked against another tablet. Something caught his eye.
The marks from one tablet flowed into the other.
The tablets are connected. The realization sent a jolt through Tarillion’s spine, waking him up from his exhausted state.
He seized the other tablets, arranging them over and over until they formed into a unified whole. The only thing that was missing was the final tablet from Ipsring.
He ran his fingertips over the surface of the tablets. It had to be possible to guess the details of the remaining tablet from the ones that they possessed.
Tarillion opened the comms from where he stood.
“Jeq,” he said. “Get up. We’ve got work to do.”
Jeq had thrown on the jacket of his uniform over his night clothes, his hair disheveled. He looked at Tarillion as if he was sure his captain had lost his mind.
Still, he was dutiful. He came as quickly as he could.
“The ship’s AI can put it together, sir,” he said. “It can come up with however many iterations fit the form and style of the other tablets. But even then...how do we read it?”
“We’ll worry about that later,” Tarillion said. “Feed the three-dimensional tablet images into the AI. Tell the ship computer that there are inscriptions on the inscription itself. They’re almost invisible to the human eye.”
Jeq picked up one of the tablets and turned it over in his meaty hand. “Captain...what are you hoping to find?”
“Whatever the stones have to tell me,” he replied.
Something occurred to Jeq. He put down the tablet. “Heik doesn’t have the rest of these tablets,” he said. “Sir, are you thinking that we’ll be able to get ahead of him?”
Tarillion shook his head. “They have the bounty hunter,” he said, unwilling to call her by name anymore. “If they still have the information from her ship ‘banks, and her...there’s no way of knowing how far ahead they may or may not be.”
“It’s worth a try,” Jeq said. “Sir...you know we’ll do whatever you ask. But I’m not sure I understand the stakes. Sir.” He sounded vaguely ashamed to even question his captain’s authority.
Tarillion smiled grimly. “Let’s just say that the Lusus is at risk,” he said. “And the only way to save this ship—and everybody aboard her—is to find the Lord of the Dark before Heik does.”
Thirteen hours later, a glowing image in green floated above the conference table. Jeq leaned forward, still disheveled. Stubble grew on his chin. An empty mug of shiroppu sat in front of him on the table. The stimulant drink had done its work; neither of them had slept in over twenty-four hours.
“Sir,” he said. “This...this arrangement has to be it. Still have no idea what it means. There are no points on it that indicate any stars or planets. The inscriptions, as far as I can tell, don’t come from any language that exists in the Empire, living or extinct.”
Tarillion gazed at it. He sensed that Jeq was right. But what was he to make of the image? Apta had always read the tablets, seemingly knowing by instinct what system they referred to.
“Illuminate the major inscription,” he ordered.
The rest of the image went dim as the AI revealed the major inscription, a series of curves that seemed to have no pattern or design.
“The Locc looks within,” he muttered to himself, remembering what Apta had said to him.
He felt his heartbeat racing as an idea occurred to him.
“Isolate the major inscription and juxtapose it against all known navcharts,” he ordered.
“We’ve tried that, sir,” he said. “But there’s nothing on there that indicates star systems.”
Tarillion stared at Jeq. “This isn’t a map of star systems, Jeq,” he said. “This is a map of portals.”
Jeq stood up slowly at this revelation. It was the only explanation. Imperial navcharts—like those of all conquered peoples—focused on stars and planets. But the Locc were intimately connected to portals.
“These lines,” Tarillion said, his finger tracing the inscription. “They aren’t words. They show connections between portals,” he said. “Assume a portal lies along the path of each curve,” he ordered the ship AI. “Now cross-reference with all available navcharts.”
They held their breath as the computer processed his request.
It paused. Then the AI took the inscription and expanded it, making the flat inscription three-dimensional.
Red points appeared throughout the now three-dimensional image.
“Portals,” Jeq breathed.
Then, yellow points indicating star systems appeared.
“You were right,” Jeq said, gripping the table. “Look. Ultaxe. Senorat. Cadero.” He pointed to the familiar stars. Each system had a red point, indicating the presence of the portal. The major systems that Jeq identified were not at the core of the three-dimensional map, but instead shunted to the far right.
Tarillion couldn’t tear his eyes away from the red point at the dead center of the map.
“There,” he said. “That’s where the Locc is.”
Chapter 8
They were far from any civilized system. Thypso XXIV was the moon of a moon in orbit around an unpopulated rocky planet. Its planetary system was filled with satellites, moons of every size imaginable. It was a good place to hide, Tarillion mused to himself. Since Thypso was so far out on the frontier, and unpopulated by any people that would be difficult to annex, Imperial cartographers only bothered to map the planets and major satellites, leaving the smaller moons off the official navcharts.
Thypso XXIV was the closest habitable celestial body to the portal. It was as good a place as any to start their search.
They’d come out of the portal close to the center of the system. The planet closest to the portal had been a raging inferno, incapable of harboring life. As the Lusus flew away from the system’s sun, they scanned the nearby planets and moons for habitability. Fortunately, most were uninhabitable. The AI detected only three planets with moons that were likely to have liquid water and enough sunlight to sustain life.
Are the Locc even alive? Tarillion wondered. Both Karsath and Apta had said that the Lords of the Dark came from the portals themselves. Were they even sentient? Were they monsters, or gods?
Humans experienced the transit through a portal in a flash. One minute a ship was in one system, and then it was in another system. There was no passage of time; it wasn’t clear that the portals were a place where the normal laws of physics functioned. For all that interstellar travel depended on the mysterious black discs, little was understood about their origin or structure.
Tarillion pushed the thoughts aside. Alive
or dead, angels or demons, he had to chase it down. It was the start of the ship’s night cycle, and he had chosen to take the shift in order to process the information about the planets and moons in the Thypso system. He sat on the bridge in the captain’s chair, scanning the data that astrogation had uploaded into his ‘reader.
As ever, his thoughts strayed to Apta. It was strange, he thought, that a bounty hunter should have so much knowledge about a creature that was practically a myth. He doubted that very many people were interested in purchasing such information. She seemed as invested in finding the Locc as he was. As if she’d spent her entire life searching for them, and only with the resources of an Imperial captain did she have a chance.
Perhaps that was why she partnered with Heik.
It was quiet during the sparsely populated shift, with only four bridge officers on duty. Rather than being absorbed in running the ship, he could focus on reading the data himself.
Every planet he had visited with Apta had a different biome. There was no common thread that made it easy to guess which one harbored the Locc. Tarillion studied the data.
“How long until we’re in orbit around Thypso XXIV?” he asked.
The bridge astrogator made a quick calculation. “Half a standard day, sir,” he reported.
An ensign passed by, offering him a cup of shiroppu. Tarillion nodded and sipped at the warm, deeply sweet drink. It was going to be a long night ahead.
The air on Thypso XXIV was breathable, but the planet was dead.
Tarillion knelt down. The shuttle sensors had identified patterns on the surface of the planet indicating that a heavy aircraft had been there—and been there recently. He picked up the sand and let it run through his fingers.
“Jeq,” he said. “Run a spectral analysis on the sand here. See if it has the right signature.”
The analysis would confirm it, but Tarillion had no doubts about who had been here.
So they’re ahead of us.
He opened a comm line to the bridge of the Lusus. “Lieutenant—prepare the ship. We’re headed to the next planet as soon as we head up.”
Tarillion surveyed the bleak landscape. There was little wind, and the air was dry. Even with Imperial terraforming, he doubted that the moon would ever be truly habitable.
He was preparing to go back to the shuttle when he heard Jeq call to him.
“Sir,” the man shouted. “I completed the analysis.”
Tarillion turned. Jeq staggered up and made his way towards his captain.
“Sir—these readings show that the craft here was Caderan.” He looked directly at Tarillion.
“Caderan?” Tarillion repeated. “Not—Imperial?”
“No, sir,” Jeq said. “If I had to guess...the craft that landed here was hers. And judging by the concentration of particulates in the air, it was within the last day or so.”
Tarillion remembered Apta’s ship. He had only seen it once, but Caderan design was so distinctive that there was no doubt in his mind that her ship was here.
“What does it mean?” Jeq asked.
Tarillion stood up straight. “It means that she might be here,” he said. “It means that she might have escaped Heik.”
The thought was hopeful—too hopeful for Tarillion’s demanding analytical mind.
Heik would never let her go, he reasoned with himself. Not alive, anyway.
And yet...
Hope is for fools and lovers, he remembered the old saying. He’d never been a fool, until he met Apta.
“Keep the Lusus in orbit,” he said to Jeq. “But conceal the ship as much as you can—make sure the Secace wouldn’t be able to find it with most sensor scans.”
“There haven’t been any signs of the Secace yet, sir,” said Jeq.
“Let’s hope it stays that way,” he replied, already rolling up his sleeves on his way to the shuttle. “While the shuttle’s on its way up have it run more targeted sensor runs across the moon, checking for Caderan energy residuals. Have the results sent immediately to my portable comm.”
Inside the shuttle, Tarillion assembled his tools. A portable comm device to link him with the Lusus, a protective bodysuit to protect him from the moon’s elements, a light, standard issue datapieces, a portable scanner, and a fully charged lasgun with backup battery. He shrugged on a standard survival pack, which carried enough food and water to last him for three days. The Lusus wouldn’t be far, but he wanted to take no chances with what could happen next.
Anything could happen. The Secace could arrive, or Heik himself could come down for the search, or Apta had already found what she came here for and was already two star systems away.
He doubted that last point. The particulate residue was too fresh for her to have gotten far.
Jeq stood at the door of the shuttle, watching his captain prepare.
“Sir,” he said. “You don’t intend to go alone, do you?”
Tarillion checked the lasgun again and shoved the weapon into its holster. “I want you back on the bridge of the Lusus,” he said, his tone brooking no disagreement. “If the Secace decides to make an apperance, you may have to move quickly to find me, and the Locc if we’re fortunate. Heik’s not above stealing if it’s in his interest.”
Jeq looked unconvinced. “I think I should go with you,” he said, ignoring protocol. “We don’t know what’s out here, and you’re—”
“You have your orders, and I have mine,” said Tarillion, not in a mood to argue. He walked up to Jeq and clapped him on the shoulder. “There’s no one I trust more when it comes to the Lusus,” he said. “I need to know that the crew and the ship will be in good hands while I’m gone.”
“They’ll give me hell if anything happens to you,” Jeq said, still looking disgruntled. Finally he gave a reluctant nod of agreement. “Sir,” he said.
Tarillion was already on his way out of the shuttle. “Yes?”
“You can’t trust her,” said Jeq. He’d been unwilling to speak of Apta until now.
Tarillion looked to the horizon. It was going to be a long day and a long night.
“I know,” he said, his expression hardening as he walked out into the unknown.
Chapter 9
It was sixteen subcycles before Tarillion saw anything more than endless shallow sand dunes and squat desert plants. He learned quickly to tap the plants for water, extending the life of his survival pack.
The Lusus sent him data. Half of it was patchy, the trail disappearing at times due to the shifting winds. But Tarillion could connect the dots himself, calling on the hostile environments training from his Academy days.
Now he was coming to the end of the trail supplied by the Lusus. The trick now was to find Apta’s ship. No more particulates meant that the ship must have stopped, and that its passengers must have disembarked.
He scanned the horizon, wiping the dust from his brow. It was close to dusk on Thypso XXIV, although its days seemed longer than the standard Imperial navy cycle. The skies were darkening into deep violet and black, the first stars beginning the show above him.
There were nothing before him that resembled the pyramids and temples that he had seen before. All he could see were endless rocks, rubbery plants and low, windswept sand dunes.
“Emperor’s arse,” he muttered to himself as a dust wind blew granules of sand into his eyes. He’d heard the curse from his men before, and never used the vulgar phrase, but it seemed appropriate for his current state of affairs.
He kicked at the rocks near his feet and opened his comms to the Lusus. Jeq had taken off in the shuttle almost as soon as he had headed out into the wilds of Thypso XXIV.
“Jeq,” he said. “Scan the area around me and see if you can find some shelter. I get the feeling that there’s a storm coming.”
“Yessir,” said Jeq briskly. “Found anything?”
Tarillion briefly considered a number of colorful expletives but decided to stay clinical. “Nothing but sand.”
“There’s a cave
approximately eight hundred feet away from your current location,” said Jeq. “Sending you the precise coordinates. We’ll keep the sensors trained on it if you’re planning to stay the night there, sir.”
Tarillion grunted in the affirmative as he began to trudge towards the cave. The wind was blowing harder now, and he suspected it would not be long before it became dangerous to be unsheltered. Another wave of sand blew into his face.
Almost blinded by sand by the time he reached the cave, he felt for its outlines with his hands. It was low, its entrance partially concealed by sand dunes. He knelt and dug into it, pushing sand behind him. He entered the cave on his stomach, his hands grasping at its sides.
Inside it was dark, and there was cold stone beneath him. The floor of the cave tilted down. He crawled down, shining a light in front of him. The cave was filled with rocks and stones and sand, and the further he went in the less sand there was. Gradually, he was able to stand up. He glanced at the mouth of the cave. Outside, the storm was beginning to rage.
He walked to the back of the cave. He slumped down against it, his eye on the sand trickling in from the storm. Ignoring the ache in his feet and back, he dug through his pack for food. He found and chewed a flavorless ration bar and sipped at his water. There was no telling how long the storm would last. It could be a day or more before he could go outside to replenish his water stores.
He checked his comms. There was nothing but static and silence. The storm above had to be interfering with his signal. He rammed the rest of the ration bar down his throat and took stock of his surroundings.
This was the most desolate place yet. At the previous planets there was more flora and fauna, but Thypso XXIV had the feeling of a place that had never welcomed sentient life.
How could anything live here? He allowed himself one more sip of water for his parched mouth.
Lords of the Dark: A Darkspace Saga Novella Page 4
