‘Who is this?’
Distant laughter filled the bubble, and Valine’s primal instincts began to play on her mind. The glass bubble suddenly seemed too exposed, too vulnerable, and she stepped back into the ship.
‘Do you need to ask?’ the man said.
‘Where are you?’
‘These are all good questions: Who am I? Where am I? But they’re the wrong questions, Jacque, so I’ll let you ask one more.’
Valine paired her com with the control panel beside the bubble, allowing the voice to fill the space. At the same time, she ran it through the voice recognition database, searching for a match.
‘What do you want?’ she asked.
The man laughed again. ‘Well done! That is the right question. Thank you. I knew I could rely on you, Jacque. It’s like old times, isn’t it? Me relying on you. But you took advantage, didn’t you? You tried to control me, you tried to overpower me, and finally, you tried to kill me. Shame that you failed. What do I want? I want your head, Valine. I’m going to rip you apart and drink from your skull. I’ve already taken control of Orava’s faction, and Waffron is dead. His people bow to me once more. They are part of the House of Draig again. What do I want? I want to give you notice, that your life is coming to an end. That is what I want. Do you understand?’
Valine stared at the console, hardly able to believe the information on the screen. ‘Yes, I understand,’ she replied.
‘Good,’ the man chuckled. ‘You’ll be going to the inauguration, no doubt?’
She didn’t answer, fear holding her tongue.
‘Of course you will. Keep your eyes open. Be seeing you soon.’
The com channel died, leaving Valine alone in the silence. She re-read the information, even though she already knew the truth. The computer had found a match for the voice, and it belonged to a dead man: Orcades Draig.
Valine looked back to the bubble. Somehow, the view looked different now, confined and claustrophobic. Orcades was alive, and that changed everything. She would lose the civil war, and he would have his revenge. The only person who could help her now was Prince Halstead of the House of Kenric.
ARRIVAL
Halstead coughed, the burning smoke catching his breath. He pulled himself up from the floor, trying to orientate himself. During their flight, he’d managed to slide from the command station down under one of the operation consoles. He staggered towards Faron Dulac and Captain Beric, both of them hunched over a flickering console.
‘What’s happened?’ Halstead asked, still feeling unsettled.
‘Cube transit was successful,’ Beric replied. ‘We’ve reached the rendezvous point, slowing our approach.’
Halstead nodded, turning to Faron, holding his shoulder for support. ‘Any sign?’
‘No,’ he replied. ‘Are you okay?’
Halstead straightened, trying to hide his discomfort as he released his grip on Faron. ‘I’m fine now. The Kenric fleet?’
Faron looked up at the holograph, its image a disjointed mess of data. ‘Sensors took a hit.’ He walked towards his com officer’s station.
‘Where’s Pullman?’ Faron asked another officer as he approached the empty console.
‘Injured,’ came the reply.
Faron simply nodded and sat at the console. ‘Arkship Benwick, to any Harvest Union vessel, please respond.’
Halstead joined him, listening as Faron searched through the hissing channels. Finally, a voice responded.
‘Benwick, good to see you. This is Commander Watson of the Ark Royal Caerleon. Is Prince Halstead safe?’
Halstead laughed with relief.
‘Yes, he’s here,’ Faron replied. ‘We’re having some problems with our scanners. Do you know who else made it?’
‘All Kenric arkships are accounted for, but we’ve yet to hear from three of our merchant ships. Clan Sinclair have also reported in, all ships accounted for, no casualties. House of Addington has declared two ships missing, the arkship Mowbray Manor, and a maintenance transport.’
‘What about the Gallus. It was close to the mine when it detonated,’ Faron asked.
There was a pause. No doubt Watson was checking her inventory. ‘No word from the Gallus,’ she said eventually.
‘Okay, keep me informed. Benwick out.’ Faron dropped the com unit, his head bowed in quiet desperation.
Halstead went to him and put his hand on Faron’s shoulder. His quarrel with him was forgotten now.
Faron looked up, his eyes full of tears. ‘I never meant . . . I never meant for any of this.’
‘I know,’ Halstead replied. He glanced at the narrow windows of the Benwick’s flight deck. It was different to the broad vista offered by the Caerleon’s wall of glass, breaking the view into narrow slices of color and light. They were in the Wasteland, the ash cloud of Earth. Somewhere out there was the Firmament, waiting for them to arrive. But without Bara, it all seemed so pointless.
A crack of lightning sliced past the windows, shaking the arkship, then Halstead heard a new alarm sound.
‘Proximity alert!’ someone cried.
Halstead stared at the dark shape of a ship that had appeared directly outside of the flight deck. Its hull was scarred and scorched, but he recognized it immediately. It had been months since he’d last seen it, but the ship looked unchanged to Halstead’s eyes.
‘Faron,’ Halstead said quietly, a smile breaking over his face. Faron followed Halstead’s gaze and turned to look out of the windows. They didn’t need the scanners to identify the craft. It’s squat design and its green hull told them everything they needed to know.
‘The Gallus!’ Faron gasped.
RETURN
Bara’s head throbbed as daggers of pain stabbed into her face. It was best not to move, to keep her eyes closed and wait for it to subside, but the com buzzed insistently. She could hear Faron’s voice, demanding to know she was all right. She reached out, trying to find the com unit by touch alone. Clumsily, she grabbed at it and brought it to her mouth.
‘Yeah . . . yeah, I’m fine, I think,’ Bara replied, her words slurring. ‘You okay there?’
‘A little bruised, but we’re still in one piece,’ Faron replied, his voice full of relief.
‘Bara?’ It was Halstead speaking. ‘I’m glad you’re safe, I . . .’
There was a difficult pause. He was never very good at this sort of thing.
‘Me to,’ she said, cutting his silence. ‘Heading back to the Benwick now.’
Bara plotted her course and let the ship take control, leaning back in her chair to rest. She felt the reassuring kick of her baby as she caressed her stomach.
‘Did you enjoy that?’ she asked. ‘D’you want to be a pilot one day?’
The baby kicked again, and Bara laughed. The pain was easing now, and she watched as the distant lights of the Benwick grew larger. The hanger bay came into view, and she realized she would be glad to be back on board.
CALCULATIONS
There was so much of Valine’s life that was driven by math. It was an inherent fact that seemed to have escaped most people’s attention, but Valine had seen it in action often enough to know that playing the numbers game was the only way to win. Calculations always underpinned her decisions and, as she reviewed the Draig commodores’ personality profiles, she knew that the numbers were not in her favor. Not yet, anyway.
She stood, taking a break from the screen to order a drink. A moment later, the door chimed, and a man entered carrying a steaming glass. He placed it on the table by her pad and left again, without speaking.
Valine sipped at the tea, breaking the hard biscuit that she’d found by the glass as she returned to her calculations. If she was going to be kingmaker and place Prince Halstead on the Draig throne, then she would need the support of the majority of the arkship commodores. She had already spoken to the ones in her own faction, and she knew she could count on their support. That left the commodores from the other factions. If Waffron was dead, as Orcade
s had boasted, then she would have a good chance of converting the commodores from that faction. They would be weary and disgruntled, and they would welcome change. She was confident they would fall in line. Commodore Orava would remain loyal to the Orcades, no matter what. Valine knew she couldn’t hope to turn him to her side. Commodore Anders, however, was a completely different number. His arkship was the Dreki and, although it was loyal to Orava’s faction, Valine had noticed a pattern in their encounters with it. The Dreki was a formidable arkship, but it always held back, keeping out of combat until necessary. She had presumed it was a tactical maneuver, but now, as she read his profile, Valine began to wonder if it was something else. As well as being an accomplished warrior, Commodore Anders was a diplomat, a peacemaker who had known Orcades’ father, Thyred Kenric. Had he been the one to introduce Thyred to Sinnsro Draig? Was he responsible, in some small way, for the feud between Thyred’s sons? Guilt was always a good weak spot. She could exploit that.
Yes, Valine could turn Commodore Anders to her side. He would support her plan, with the right sort of pressure. Suddenly, her calculations began to resolve themselves and the numbers looked more favorable. Valine finished her tea, satisfied that this might just work.
WALLS
‘We could have stayed,’ Reader Aditsan said as they walked across the hanger bay.
‘There’s no need,’ Prince Halstead replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the deck.
‘There’s Bara.’
‘She’s safe.’
‘She’s still your wife,’ Aditsan said, his words pulling Halstead up short.
‘You think I want to go?’ he asked in a whisper. ‘I’m in the way here. She’s safe, that’s all that matters. She doesn’t need me in the way of . . .’
‘In the way of what?’
Halstead ignored him and continued towards Hunter One. The shuttle was primed for take-off, it’s engines humming. If they were quick, they could launch before Bara returned. Halstead quickened his pace, the Reader falling behind.
‘I’ll go without you,’ Halstead warned him as he climbed up the entrance ramp. The old man blustered, complaining under his breath, boarding the ramp as it began to close.
Flight Officer Hitch was already in the cockpit, going over the pre-flight checklist. He saw Prince Halstead walk through the door and he stood to offer him the seat.
Halstead shook his head. ‘Just get us home,’ he ordered.
The pilot nodded and returned to his seat, clipping his harness over his body. ‘Benwick control, this is the Kenric shuttle Hunter One, request permission to depart.’
Reader Aditsan appeared in the doorway, his face red. He sat down, glaring at Halstead. ‘I’m fine, thanks for asking. No, I’m just an old fool, why would a bit of running bother me? Carry on with your day.’
‘Finished?’ Halstead barked.
Aditsan brooded, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.
A voice boomed over the ship’s com. ‘Hunter One, hold for clearance.’
Halstead cursed, watching as the Gallus drifted through the hanger bay entrance. Its hull was battered and scorched, with panels torn away to reveal the innards of the ship. She had been lucky to survive. The little ship landed on a pad close by, a medical team rushing in as soon as the hatch opened. Faron was there as well, waiting to see Bara.
Halstead couldn’t look away, but it pained him to have to see this.
‘Hunter One, you are clear to depart.’
The shuttle lifted into the air and drifted towards space. It flew past the Gallus, just as Bara walked out of the ship and embraced Faron. Halstead couldn’t look any longer, and turned to face the console, distracting himself with the stream of information there.
‘It’s okay to be angry,’ Aditsan said in a low tone.
‘I’m fine.’ Halstead didn’t want to get into this.
‘Please yourself.’
The shuttle cleared the rim of the hanger bay, and the grey clouds of the Wasteland filled their view.
‘So, you’re going to be a father,’ Reader Aditsan said.
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘You could be a good father, if you stopped being so damned proud.’
Halstead turned to look at him, but Aditsan had his eyes closed, his head resting on the padded chair.
‘Proud?’ Halstead asked, realizing he’d been goaded into the Reader’s discussion.
‘It’s like a wall that you use to keep people away,’ Aditsan explained, his face still resting.
‘Don’t you have some prayers or something else you’re supposed to be doing?’
‘See? There you go.’ Aditsan opened an eye as he gestured with his hand, waving it between them. ‘Wall.’
Halstead gave in. It was impossible to argue with him. Instead, he wallowed in his own thoughts, trying to avoid the nagging conclusion that Reader Aditsan was right.
The swirling torrent of gas clouds thickened, and the view out of the cockpit windows became obscured as the shuttle was buffeted by the shifting vortices.
‘Gonna be a bumpy ride, sorry,’ Hitch said.
‘Just what I need,’ Aditsan complained.
The dust clouds parted, and Halstead thought he saw something overhead, another ship moving with them.
‘Did you see that?’ he asked, pointing at the windows. Already, the swirling debris had closed again, and the view became a blur of browns and greys.
‘Another ship,’ Halstead said to the pilot, ‘right above us.’
Hitch checked his console. ‘Nothing on scanner.’
This didn’t feel right. ‘Move us away, just in case,’ Halstead ordered.
The pilot took hold of the control yoke and the shuttle dropped through the clouds. The light of the Infinite punched through the thinning dust, and they could see the way ahead once more. There, in the distance was the thin line of the Caerleon, waiting for them in the shifting pockets of debris which once formed the Earth. Halstead tried to picture it, a blue marbled planet, with vast oceans of water, then movement caught his eye again, high above, descending towards them.
‘There!’ he shouted, pointing at the craft.
‘I see it,’ Hitch replied, turning the ship away. He flicked the com, trying to find an open frequency. ‘We’re being jammed.’
Something hit the shuttle, jarring them to one side.
‘Controls are fighting me,’ Hitch said as the shuttle vibrated.
Halstead unbuckled his harness and craned to see out of the window. The other ship was almost on top of them now, and he could see a cable tethered between the two vessels.
‘We’ve been snared,’ he said.
‘Bone Grubbers? Pirates?’ Aditsan suggested.
Halstead checked with the pilot. ‘We have guns on board?’
Hitch nodded towards a storage locker as he fought with the controls.
Halstead pulled out two pistols and threw one to the Reader. ‘Get ready.’
Aditsan nodded nervously as something else hit the hull, a dull thud followed by a grinding noise. The sound grew louder until a sharp rod pushed through the ceiling, penetrating the cockpit. Before anyone could react, it emitted a series of rapid flashes, accompanied by a painfully loud sound, and Halstead found he could no longer stand. His grip on consciousness loosened and he stumbled to the floor.
PROPOSAL
Valine stared at Prince Halstead’s face, studying his features. She could see the family connection to Orcades Draig, there was a definite likeness around the eyes. He was a handsome man, even with the subtle scars. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, pushing it away from his forehead. Yes, he looked more like his half-brother now. She smiled, satisfied, and turned to the physician.
‘Wake him,’ she said.
The physician obeyed, injecting a needle into the unconscious prince’s arm. A moment passed, then his eyes parted. Confused, he looked about the room, studying the medical equipment, focusing on the physician, the soldiers, then finally he saw
Valine. Halstead’s face tensed, and he jerked against his restraints.
‘Don’t,’ Valine soothed. ‘You’ll only hurt yourself. It will take a few moments before you’re able to talk again, so why not relax and listen.’
Halstead struggled for a moment, then gave up, letting his head fall back onto the bed.
Satisfied, Valine turned to the soldiers and dismissed them. The physician checked the monitors attached to the prince, then retreated, leaving Valine alone with her prisoner.
‘You are on the Gargan,’ she said. ‘Your shuttle is missing. A distress signal was sent, but all contact with Hunter One was lost. You are dead, Halstead. No one is looking for you.’
She watched his eyes widen, impotent anger boiling to the surface.
‘Don’t worry,’ Valine continued, ‘I’m not going to hurt you, and your pilot and Reader are both well. All I want to do is talk to you, and for you to listen. Can you do that?’
Halstead’s rage eased as curiosity took hold, and he blinked his confirmation.
‘Good. If you’d listened the first time I contacted you, I wouldn’t have had to resort to these methods. But you wouldn’t listen, would you? No, you just fired on me instead. You presumed I was lying. Shame on you, Halstead.’
Valine grinned, leaning on his chest so that her face was close to his. She could feel his breath on her face, petulant snorts, like a child. Seeing him like this, her hatred of him diminished. He was vulnerable and scared. She had never noticed the fear before. Had it always been there, buried beneath his bluster? Yes, he hid it well, even from himself. Halstead was a scared little child pretending to be a prince.
‘So, here we are at last, just you and me. We can finally talk openly, as equals. Well, I can.’ She laughed, running a finger down the scar on his cheek. ‘You will have heard the rumors, no doubt? My former leader may not be as dead as we both had hoped, and this civil war is destroying the House of Draig. His return can only lead to more bloodshed, so my offer of a truce was a genuine one. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or so they say. We can help each other, and in return we can bring stability to both of our Houses. I can see you find it hard to believe, but the benefits outweigh the costs.’
Arkship Conquest Page 9
