Imperial officers mainly stayed together while the other officers mingled with enthusiasm. Steg noticed the holograms of the other AIs with various groups. He also noted the presence of Ebony Company and Homeworld marines. He did not really expect them to be required; however, Alke was adamant a level of security was necessary.
Overhead, he sensed the presence of spiders hidden in the ceiling superstructure a hundred meters above his head. He sent them a message of welcome. Alke’s hologram immediately halted. Finch, curious, also stopped and Steg spun around.
Alke said, “What was that? What just happened?”
Steg considered his answer. Finch watched him. He said, “I assume—Finch, you recall Tobias? You know, the Acolyte? He thought there were some aliens hiding on Wanderer, some spider-like and some he’d never seen? I think Dekker may have mentioned them, too.”
Finch nodded, somewhat doubtful.
Alke said, “I recall records from Faethon’s time—he thought there were aliens of some kind on board.”
“I was welcoming them to this function.”
“You’ve communicated with them?” Finch asked.
“Yes.”
“Boss, you’re full of surprises. I’m pleased you welcomed them. Alke?”
“Yes.” The reply was drawled. “I suppose. I don’t have any record, though.”
“What, of Steg contacting them?”
“Yes.”
“Alke, there may be occasions when you don’t see everything, you need to realize.”
The AI did not reply. They resumed their walk, heading to Admiral Breval with a small group of his officers in serious discussion. Steg recognized Griffin. He thought one of the captains who moved away as he approached was Blythe. He shrugged. There was no reason for the man to like him or to want to speak with him.
“Admiral,” Steg said.
“Admiral,” replied Breval.
Griffin smiled his welcome.
“This is far too formal,” protested Finch. “Richard, thank you for supporting the joint task force.”
“Finch—ah, yes, it’s far too formal if we continue to use titles. Thank you, likewise. We’ll all be happy to return to our home bases.”
A stir amongst a crowd of Imperial officers halted their conversation. There was a mix of cheers and protests. A man, dressed in ImpSec uniform, was in the center of a small group that was pushing its way towards where Steg was standing.
Alke, her eyes flashing red, said, “Take care—it’s Marius of House of Aluta. He’s not registering on my security sensors. Ebony marines are on their way.”
Finch held Steg’s arm. He shrugged it away, gently, and removed Ebony from his shoulder, fastening its belt around his waist.
Finch said, “No. You haven’t recovered. Stop.” She placed her hand back on his arm.
Marius approached, a sneer on his face. “Your security needs to be improved.”
“It works well enough,” Steg said.
Holograms of all the AIs formed around him, facing the intruder.
“So you bribed or threatened your way out of prison?” Steg queried.
“Friends. That’s all you need.”
Twenty Ebony Company marines assembled on either side of Steg, pushing Imperial officers out of the way. Homeworld marines and guards stood with them. Steg thought he could hear Denke ordering his marines to take up protective positions around them.
Steg waved his hand to indicate his companions and said, “I agree—it’s good to have friends.”
Marius stepped forward, closer to Steg. He said, “I see you have that ancient piece of metalwork.” He signaled one of the men who had accompanied him. “You remember Varus? He’s brought a sword for me, this time.”
Steg had defeated Varus in an exhibition sword bout when an ImpSec force working for the House of Aluta had attempted to take over Homeworld. Marius had presented Varus with his killing sword. Steg disarmed Varus and then fought a duel with Marius. Marius, wounded by Steg, had lost the duel. He had also, contrarily, lost face when Steg had refrained from delivering a killing blow.
“He’s still in second place, I gather?”
There were shouts from Marius’ supporters who had gathered around their leader. Marius turned to them. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll soon know who’s second.” He accepted the sword handed to him by Varus. “I challenge you, de Coeur. You’re a primitive backworlder and a thief—you’ve stolen over forty of our starships.”
Steg said, “I daresay, given your background, you can claim higher levels of criminality. I heard you’d murdered your father in order to gain control of the House of Aluta. A pity it was bankrupt.” Steg did not mention he’d created the circumstances that led to the House’s financial disaster. He added, “I accept your challenge.”
Denke threaded his way through the marines standing with Steg. He said, “Marius, you’re an escapee. You’re under arrest.”
“Admiral Breval, do you have any record of my arrest or of a warrant?”
Breval said, “No, I don’t.” He wouldn’t look Denke or Steg in the eye. “I’m unable to support your arrest. General Denke, you have no authority.”
Steg said, “Denke, get out of the way.”
Denke looked at Steg for a long moment. He recognized the determination on his friend’s face. He said, ‘Stand back, everyone. Standard square and standard rules. Victory goes to the swordsman who first draws blood.”
Steg said, “No, not this time. These are the conditions. No protective gear. Swords only. No other weapons; if you breach this rule, you lose your arm. No breaks. No assistants. This is a duel to the death unless both parties are rendered incapable of movement. No other rules.”
Again Denke looked long and hard at Steg.
“Marius, do you accept the conditions?” Denke asked.
“Of course. That’s why I’m here, to deal with this jumped up barbarian.” He unsheathed his sword.
Steg drew Ebony, He felt the micronics react; the sword hummed, there was a tingle of energy along his arm. The onlookers had drawn well back, forming a square. Finch had released her hold and Steg heard her instructing Alke to contact Dr. Yi, in case she was needed.
The two swordsmen stood at opposite corners of the square. Denke, acting as judge, stood in the center. He was holding a blaster. He said, “I’ll use this against anyone who tries to aid either party. Marius, confirm your understanding of the rules.”
“Confirmed.”
Ebony was vibrating, probably with excitement. Steg wondered if the sword had a memory of the prior duel with Marius. He examined his opponent. The man had added weight around his middle. No, thought Steg, he’s wearing armor. He raised his hand.
“Denke, the man’s cheating, He’s wearing armor.”
Marius swore. There was a loud hiss of disapproval from the crowd.
Denke aimed his weapon at the ImpSec officer. “Remove your armor.”
Steg waited.
Marius, with obvious reluctance, stripped and removed the thin protective layers. The protection would have saved him from the more deadly results of body blows. He dressed again.
Steg smiled and said, “Still cheating, Marius?”
“You’ll die, de Coeur.”
Denke asked, “Are you both ready?”
When the two duelists answered affirmatively, he backed away to the side of the square. “The field is yours,” he said.
The two swords clashed, each with its own distinctive deathsong. This, Steg thought, was likely to reduce to a bash and slash competition. He knew he was not as fit as he should be; he also thought Marius had been living a good life for the last year. Even without his armor, the man had an obvious stomach bulge, and his muscles appeared to be soft. Steg raised Ebony and swung again, then stepped back, assuming his en garde position after the two swords clashed and rebounded. Marius was not as formal in his stand.
Ebony, although the hilt was long enough for him to use both hands, was not a heavy sword and appeare
d to be even lighter once the duel commenced. Steg feinted towards Marius’ right arm—where he had cut his opponent a year ago. It was also the arm that had been injured when Alke had wrecked the building on Jochum II. Marius hissed his anger and blocked the blow. There was a weakness there, thought Steg.
He attacked with a display of sword pyrotechnics he’d not used since that first duel—not even when the guild sword assassin on Tacia had threatened his life. That man had failed in his attempt to complete his contract when Steg defeated him. This fight was more than a challenge; it was an opportunity to have his final revenge on the House of Aluta. Marius beat him back with surprising energy. Steg defended, barely able to prevent the ImpSec officer from taking his revenge instead. Marius snarled when the victory he thought to be near was blocked by Steg’s recovery.
“So, barbarian, you haven’t learned your lesson yet?”
Steg parried another thrust and counter-attacked. There was a sigh from the crowd; he did not know whether the watchers were reacting to him or to his opponent. He pushed forward, his sword strokes targeting Marius’ potentially weakened right arm. He spun Ebony, forming an impenetrable disc. Marius stepped back, his sword held low. Steg held his sword high, ready to respond to Marius. When his opponent did not advance, Steg moved forward, his sword now held low. Ebony was vibrating, its hilt-held micronics reacting to the duel. Steg detected a flow of energy, small, yet enough to give him a burst of speed. Marius defended, a look of strain on his face. Steg was hesitant, unsure whether the expression was feigned or genuine. He stepped in, his right foot in line with his opponent and lunged forward, slashing a fine line across Marius’ right cheek.
“I’m getting closer,” taunted Steg,
Marius swore and lashed out with a series of vicious swings. Blood flowed down his face from below the corner of his eye. Steg defended, almost effortlessly.
“Next time I’ll cut your other cheek,” he promised, moving into a violent attack.
Marius cursed even louder when Ebony slashed his other cheek, in a mirror position to the first cut. Steg smiled, which seemed to enrage his opponent. Marius came in swinging, anger overriding finesse. Steg defended, stepping back and then forward, attacking, pushing to drive Marius back one, two meters. Marius stepped to the side, holding his sword wide; it was an odd and unexpected maneuver.
A shot rang out. It was from a projectile weapon. A second shot followed the first. No one saw the two spiders almost fall from the high ceiling, nor did anyone see the two aliens share the load of carrying an ImpSec sniper back to the darkness above. The man’s screams ceased before the spiders reached the darkness. Everyone’s attention was almost totally on the two sword fighters.
Steg felt the first shot as it impacted his chest. Fortunately, it missed his heart and vital organs. Pain rushed along his nervous system, and he fought to hold onto Ebony. The second shot hit his leg, again missing vital arteries and bone. He froze for a moment, a grim rictus on his face. He stumbled.
Marius smiled. “My turn,” he said.
Alke reached out to Steg. Two of the spiders, then ten or more, provided energy. Steg, unseeing, now without pain, did not know what he was doing. Alke was in control. She took control of Steg and lifted Ebony. Marius stepped back, dismayed his victim remained upright. Alke attacked, swinging the sword with an astounding burst of energy. Marius defended, his reactions barely adequate. Alke, in full control, stepped forward, thrusting, attacking, swinging Ebony with a vengeance.
Marius stumbled. Alke saw her opportunity and thrust with her sword. Her opponent crumpled, his wound fatal. She withdrew her support, and Steg fell to the floor, bleeding, unconscious. The spiders added energy and withdrew. The uproar from the crowd was deafening.
Dr. Yi knelt beside Steg’s body; she was checking for life signs. Denke was beside her, as were ten or more Ebony marines. Imperial soldiers carried the other body away—Marius was beyond medical intervention.
Dr. Yi said, “We can save Steg—Denke, get medical help here, urgently.” She worked on stopping the flow of blood, monitoring for his heartbeat all the while. She had saved the Homeworlder’s life once, and she was prepared to do exactly that a second time. She supervised the med bot as two Fain carefully loaded him onto the stretcher. They all—Denke, Ebony marines, Fain, Dr. Yi—accompanied the med bot to Wanderer’s emergency ward.
oOo
CHAPTER 42
STEG SHIFTED in his chair to ease the stiffness in his leg. The wound had healed, but there was still some residual pain. The sniper’s end, the details communicated to him by one of the spiders as he recovered, was reasonable justice. He flinched at a slight twinge of pain—he needed to start training again. For the moment, he was enjoying a warm summer day on his family property, where the house overlooked the ocean and the breeze was balmy and pleasant. He was comfortable. Too comfortable. The loggia had its open side facing the breathtaking sea view, and streams of blue flowers, their scent delicate, hung down from the overhead trellis. Finch was pruning flowers, a task she had taken to with enthusiasm. Stacia and Tessa each had their activities, some they shared and some they addressed with individual energy.
A squad of Ebony marines was working out; they formed his home guard. They probably were unnecessary, but circumstances dictated their presence. Denke had sent his report the day before, and Steg was reading the notes on his comunit. The mercenary force, rashly called Denke’s Daredevils, was fully engaged on clearing Djii space of wrecks and wreckage. He had another report, this one from Tziksis, updating him on the activities of his merchant starship fleet that the Djiis managed on his behalf. He expected another report later in the day from the farm manager responsible for managing his Homeworld properties. Even later in the day, he and the Fain were scheduled to visit his cousin Rakyd and his wife Maria, to go through a report on Homeworld’s ability to absorb two thousand mercenaries, once Denke’s contract with Djiis concluded.
Reports, he thought, he was surrounded by reports.
Finch came over to check on him. She patted his shoulder. “Restless?”
He groaned, not in pain, rather with a need to express his feelings. “Reports. I’m deluged by them. If you and Stacia and Tessa want to report on household activities, report to each other, please.”
Finch laughed. “I have a report from Lin. She’s enjoying her position heading up the new teaching hospital. That was one of the best ideas you’ve ever had.”
“All my ideas are the best,” he protested. “I have it on good authority—mine.”
Finch hit his shoulder. “So says you. It’s lunch time; do you want to sit out here and eat?”
“Oh, yes. This view is almost worth all the reports.”
Stacia and Tessa joined him and Finch for their midday meal. The conversations were quiet, peaceful, relaxed. The meal was enjoyable, but Steg was still restless.
“I know,” said Tessa, out of nowhere. “You’re bored, aren’t you?”
Steg, startled, looked long and hard at his friend and partner, at all his friends and partners. He shrugged. “In a word, yes. What are you going to do about it?”
“First, you’re going to start training again with the Ebony marines. We all are. We’re getting far too comfortable,” said Finch.
Tessa looked at her, mouth agape. She said, “We’re too comfortable?”
Stacia said, “Close your mouth. Finch, what do you mean?”
“Look at you. Steg is sitting here with one of the most marvelous views, complaining about reports. I’m tut-tutting around, cutting unwanted branches off small plants. You, Stacia, what did you do this morning? And Tessa, what about you? Did you do anything exciting?”
Tessa and Stacia looked at each other. Tessa said, “I checked the small vineyard, to see if it needed my assistance.”
Stacia said, “I painted the topsides of a sailing dinghy. It was relaxing.”
“See, that’s what I mean. You did nothing. So, it’s training every morning for all of us. Fitness,
weapons, and self-defense.”
There was silence for five minutes.
“For how long?” asked Steg.
“Until you’re fit, of course. Our objective is to get to the same standard as your marines. Assuming, that is, they’re keeping fit. I’ll check with Kirby after lunch.”
“And what will we do after we get fit?” asked Tessa.
“I’ll think of something. We’ve got Dreamer and Red Desert up there,” she pointed towards the sky. “The Desert’s doing nothing except helping some Homeworld military types get some starship training by flying around the planet. Dreamer is just sitting there—its new AI is probably bored as well. Maybe we should take Dreamer and head off, somewhere.”
There was silence for another five minutes. Steg poured a cup of coffee. He drank it, slowly. He looked at Finch.
“You’re right.”
Stacia and Tessa moaned.
“Boss, of course, I’m right. Now finish your lunch. We’re all going on a five klick run when we’ve cleared up.”
That evening, at Castlehome, he complained to his cousin. “Rak, she’s far too bossy. Before we know it, we’ll be off fighting giant lizards on some distant planet. I thought a rest would be what we needed.”
Rakyd helped his very pregnant wife up from the couch where she’d been listening to Steg complain. Maria said, “And is she correct? Are you bored?”
“Yes.” He looked around, ignoring the fact Finch was sitting next to him. “To both your questions. But don’t tell her, she’ll get such an ego.”
“None of the AIs have contacted you? They’ve been gone for what—three months, now?”
“No, we’ve heard nothing. Alke wanted to explore systems on the other side of the Rim. Zhu wanted to meditate or something. Nyx, in her new destroyer, wanted to fly somewhere. The others—they could be anywhere.”
Maria said, “So not just bored. You’re also missing those companions. I think you grew close to them even though you were together for only a short time.”
“They said that while we called them AIs, there was nothing artificial about them. I agree they are alive, they have free will, and they are very intelligent,” Finch said.
Diamond Cut: Book Three in The Glass Complex Trilogy Page 25
