by Tim Pratt
After that, they picked out rooms for themselves. Callie took the pirate queen’s, which was positively luxurious, and Elena kept her company while they waited.
* * *
“Incoming,” Ashok called over the asteroid’s crackly old PA. Callie leapt up and hurried toward the control room, right in the heart of the asteroid, and Elena went after her, feeling languid and serene, even though she knew she should feel tense. They were about to engage in an armed standoff that would almost certainly involve shots fired, but Callie was so confident, and so magnificent, that Elena could only bring herself to be worried in the abstract.
Callie had dragged a huge chair made of real wood, carved all over with comets and stars, into the control room, and now she lounged in it like a throne in front of the screen. The pirate queen’s face appeared, snarling. “What the hell are you doing on my station?”
“My station now.” Callie yawned. “Right of conquest, yeah? That’s your thing? I can’t help but notice you left with eight ships and came back with two. How did the expedition go?”
“That was a Liar station, not TNA, and they had weapons like I’ve never seen before – but you know that. You sent us to die. But I didn’t die.”
“Did you at least blow the place up? They’re the ones who exploded Meditreme Station. I was hoping you’d take them out for me.” Callie was lying – Lantern had predicted the pirates had no chance of actually destroying the station, but she wanted to keep the queen off balance.
The queen’s eyes went wide, then narrowed. “That’s ridiculous. Why would Liars blow up the station?”
“It’s a long story you won’t be around long enough to hear. Did you kill them or not?”
“Not. We hurt them, bad, but not bad enough. After most of my ships were destroyed I didn’t have enough personnel to board successfully, so I retreated. I’m going to kill you, though, all of you–”
“Too bad. If you’d performed a service for the TNA, I might have considered leniency. This is a trial now. You’re entitled to an advocate. Do you want one?”
“Fuck you, you lunatic–”
“The accused has waived the right to an advocate. I know for a fact that you personally killed two TNA security officers, and your people have been responsible for many more deaths. The innocent people you pushed out airlocks were the lucky ones, weren’t they? The others lived long enough to wish they hadn’t. The crews of both your ships include known and wanted pirates. Piracy carries the death penalty under the regulations of the Trans-Neptunian Authority.”
“There is no more TNA, you stupid bitch.”
“Not much of one, true, which is why I’m authorized to act as arresting officer and judge both. I find you and your crews guilty. I sentence you to death. Drake, carry out the sentence.”
The queen smiled at her. “The station won’t fire on its own vessels, you moron. There are safeguards in place. We’re going to board you and cut you into little pieces and feed them to your friends–”
“I know Glauketas won’t fire on its own ships,” Callie said. “That’s why I wasn’t talking to Glauketas.”
The queen frowned, and then the screen went black.
“Targets successfully destroyed,” Drake radioed from the White Raven. “Two torpedoes, perfect hits. They never even saw us lurking behind the asteroid.”
“I hereby take possession of this asteroid under Article 18 of the TNA security code, regarding the seizure and repurposing of assets used in the commission of capital crimes. Or, if we accept that the TNA no longer really exists, we can just say we seize Glauketas as spoils of war. Everyone on the Raven, come down and pick out some rooms.”
Robin sidled up to Elena and whispered, “Damn. How turned on are you right now?”
Elena blushed, which was answer enough.
Callie drifted over and touched Elena’s arm. “Can we talk?”
Robin gave Elena a significant look and then went to join the celebratory conversation with Ashok and the crew. Ashok was already talking about rebuilding the pirate’s disorganized machine shop, and Stephen was on the radio asking about the medical facilities.
Elena was hoping their “talk” would involve less talking and more action, but then Callie crooked her finger and Lantern came hurrying after them. They went to the quarters Callie had claimed. She shut the door and they all floated around in a loose cluster. “What’s going on?” Elena said.
“We’ve still got a bit of unfinished business,” Callie said. “Lantern and I are going to the Liar base in the Oort Cloud.”
Elena nodded. She wasn’t surprised. “That’s going to be dangerous. But you know that.”
Callie shrugged. “Elder Mizori ordered the destruction of Meditreme Station. There has to be justice. Lantern wants to ask her a few questions, too, and confirm our suspicions. I expect us to come back, but if we don’t… Stephen is in charge of the Raven’s crew, but you’ll need to take point in helping the Anjou’s people move on. Get them to Imperative territory and they can start new lives. They could go back to Earth – it’s beautiful now, and it must be paradise compared to what you left behind. Or head for the colony worlds. I just want you, all of you, to be safe and happy.”
“I do want to see Earth again,” Elena said. “But the things I’ve learned, about the Free, and about the Axiom… it’s too important. I want to help. I want to come with you.”
“I don’t know if I could do the things I have to do on that station if I’m worried about you,” Callie said.
“You can do anything, Kalea Machedo. But you’ll have to do it with me by your side.”
“What about your crew? If we don’t survive this…”
“Robin is smart and capable. It’s not like Stephen is going to put them on a pod and launch them into space. They’ll work out what to do next together.”
“I just don’t–”
“Shush. I left you behind on the Axiom station, and it was terrible, and I was eaten up with worry, and I won’t do that again. It’s settled.”
“You aren’t my client anymore. I don’t have to do what you say.”
“I’m not your client. I’m not in your chain of command. But I am your girlfriend. So when do we leave?”
“Soon,” Callie said. “Before Elder Mizori has a chance to recover from the pirate attack.”
“How are we getting there? Not in the White Raven?”
“It’s not really safe to take our ship – they might recognize it and shoot on sight. Fortunately, the pirates left us a ship that’s perfectly adequate to take us there. They called it the Inevitability of Death, which is a terrible name, so we’re giving it a new one: the Golden Spider.”
“White Raven and Golden Spider. Are you starting a petting zoo?”
“Anybody who tries to pet us is going to get bitten.”
* * *
They were about to board the station’s lifeboat and head out to the Golden Spider when Ashok crackled over the PA: “Shall has a message. I’m patching you in.”
“Go ahead,” Callie said.
“I was looking for a new repair drone on this ugly rock,” Shall said. “Something useful, so I could go with you.”
“And?”
“I didn’t have much luck. They have hull repair machines, but they’re badly maintained and don’t have enough processing power to run even a dumbed-down local version of my consciousness.”
“Too bad. I would have liked the backup.”
“Ah, but Ashok was poking around in the station armory, and he found something better: a Martian war drone. It’s a decade old and it has a busted cooling unit, so they couldn’t use it – turn it on, and it overheats and shuts off almost immediately.”
“Because pirates are shitty mechanics, and prefer to steal new stuff rather than fix the old,” Ashok chimed in. “I, however, am a genius mechanic, and I got it working again.”
“When you say war drone…”
“You’re going to be happy,” Shall said.
Elena, Lantern, and Callie got on board the Golden Spider, a dirty and much-patched ship, clearly the ugly duckling of the Glauketas fleet. But the engines worked, and they didn’t need much else. The weapons systems were offline, but Shall was clinging to the hull inside the war drone, a machine twice the size of the old hull repair drone and more straightforwardly designed for fighting. Possession of such technology by private individuals was illegal by Martian statute, but Mars law didn’t reach anywhere near this far out.
They burned toward the Oort Cloud, sitting together in the cockpit, discussing their approach. It was fairly straightforward. Lantern seemed confident the plan would work. Callie was a bit anxious having Elena on board, but she was focusing hard on the task ahead. That was the way you got through any huge project: take it one small, manageable step at a time. Don’t build a starship, just bolt on a plate. Don’t write a novel, just write a sentence.
Don’t topple an ancient alien empire of unimaginable power, just infiltrate a base.
* * *
When they got within real-time communication range of the Liar station, but still outside the range of its guns, Lantern reached out on a secret emergency frequency. “Elder Mizori. This is Lantern. I successfully infiltrated the White Raven and destroyed the forbidden technology, and the ship itself, along with all its data. I acquired a new and untraceable vessel. And I have taken two prisoners.”
A long silence, and then a voice said, “We do not take prisoners. They should have been killed.”
“They have information crucial to our mission,” Lantern said. “They know about other humans planning an excursion to Axiom space. I considered killing them and producing a neural bud so you could witness the interrogation, but I feared I might not question them properly. Your wisdom and experience are better suited to a task of such importance.”
Another pause. “You have done well, Lantern. Dock your ship and bring your prisoners. Come straight to my quarters when you board. Don’t mind the mess. We had a small problem with some human interlopers, but it’s being cleared up.”
“Acknowledged.” Lantern shut off the comms, and then trembled uncontrollably. Elena soothed her.
“It’s all right,” Elena said.
“I have never knowingly told a lie before,” Lantern said, and the trembles became spasms.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lantern got herself under control by the time they reached the station, deep in the Oort Cloud, that shell of icy planetesimals and comets that surrounded the entire solar system.
The station was definitely a Liar construction: radially symmetric, like a seven-armed starfish, with multiple rings intersecting the arms. “It usually spins,” Lantern said.
“The pirates did some damage.” Their ship eased past drifting, broken pirate ships as they approached. Callie glanced at Elena. “Are you ready?”
“I think so.”
Lantern bound their arms behind them in a way that looked convincing, but the zip ties had been sawn almost all the way through, and a hard jerk would make the tough plastic separate, freeing their arms. Elena had her rings, and Callie had her gauntlets. That should be enough, especially when Shall’s hulking war drone was added into the equation.
The docking procedure was simple. The Golden Spider didn’t have an AI, but it had expert systems that managed to communicate with the station just fine. They didn’t even have to match spin, since the station wasn’t spinning. Once they were connected, Lantern led the way through the airlock, followed by Callie and Elena, doing their best to look dispirited and captive.
They entered a tunnel rounded and oddly segmented in a way that made Callie think of a snake’s underbelly. The war drone barely fit inside the corridor, clumping along after them on magnetic legs.
“What is this machine?” Elder Mizori’s voice boomed in the corridor.
Lantern said, “A war drone I found on board the ship I commandeered. I activated it, and tasked it to pacify the prisoners. They were difficult for me to manage alone. Captain Machedo tried to bite me.”
“I did bite you, and I’ll bite you again, squid,” Callie said.
“The armament is welcome,” Mizori said. “We expended considerable resources fighting the invaders.”
“How did they find us?” Lantern said.
“We assume they were pirates who typically preyed on the people of the Trans-Neptunian Authority. They must have sent out patrols to look for new targets. Parasites in search of new hosts. They won’t come back again. We would have pursued the survivors, but our ranks are diminished, as you know. I plan to request new recruits from our sister cells. Bring the prisoners.”
Lantern continued swimming through the air down the corridor, past various branches, until they reached the right segment of the outer ring. A wide set of doors stood open, just large enough for the drone to enter.
The Elder’s quarters were palatial: floors that looked like polished stone, a domed ceiling with a starfield projected on it, and fluted pillars that flowed with soft white light. A raised dais in the center of the room held a beautiful round water tank the size of a bed, though the water was gone – probably floated away when the station lost its spin gravity.
The Elder was twice Lantern’s size, immense for a Liar, and wore draped fabric as black as the void. She had seven eyes, arrayed in a ring around the bulge of her head, so she could see in all directions. Her tentacles were covered in bracelets in red and black and gold – ornaments? Weapons?
Four other Liars, smaller than Mizori but still bigger than Lantern, floated in a loose semicircle behind the elder, holding objects that looked like the marriage of a sextant and a sniper rifle: weapons of a sort Callie had never seen before.
The elder drifted toward them. “Humans. You will be interrogated. Answer truthfully, and promptly, or you will be compelled to do so.”
“Funny,” Callie said. “I was about to say the same thing to you.” She snapped her wrists apart, separating the cuffs, and sensed Elena doing likewise, but it didn’t matter: Shall was running a very dumbed-down version of his consciousness, but he was smart enough to simultaneously target all four guards. The noise of his weapons firing was like a brief run of eighth notes on a flute, and the targeted Liars spun away, lifeless and oozing blue blood that clouded in the air.
Elder Mizori curled up on herself, drawing her tentacles inward. “Treachery. How is this possible?”
“You told me lies,” Lantern said. “Didn’t you? We went to an Axiom station. I saw the deep archives. I read our sect’s original charter.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. These humans have deceived you.”
Lantern fluttered her tentacles. “That is easily determined. Produce a neural bud, with a complete record of your memories. I will consume it, and know the truth of what you say.”
“You are not senior enough to experience my memories. There are secrets you cannot–”
“But she can,” Callie said. Shall’s weapons moved, with a noisier than necessary realignment, until several nasty-looking protuberances were pointed straight at the elder. “Lantern has seen the archives. She knows the secrets. The question is whether you know them, or if you were duped by your superiors, too. If you were tricked, it could help your situation.” It wouldn’t, really, but the information might make Lantern feel better.
“You saw the deep archives, you say,” Mizori said. “What is it you think you know?”
“That the truth-tellers are not a defense against the Axiom. That we are collaborators. Protectors.”
There was a long silence, and then Mizori made a wet, bubbling sound that might have been a laugh, or a sob. “You were on a promotion track, Lantern. We were going to tell you the truth, in a few more centuries. You might have become an elder yourself. But then you exhibited that pacifistic streak, and were declared unsuitable for advancement. That’s why we sent you on the boarding party. Our projections indicated a low likelihood of surv
ival for the boarders. You were a terrible disappointment.” A pause. “The original charter. Is that all you saw?”
“Is there more?”
“Ah. Then you don’t know where the sensitive installations are. Some of the great works are near completion. You cannot stop them. You would not even know where to begin. The Axiom will return, within my lifetime, and usher the universe into a new age, and those of us who kept faith with our masters will be rewarded.”
“They might come back within Lantern’s lifetime, maybe,” Callie said. “Your lifetime is a lot shorter than you seem to think.”
“Why would you work for them?” Elena said. “The Axiom. They made your people slaves. Erased your history. Why collaborate?”
“Fool. The Axiom killed every race they encountered – except ours. They let us live, because we were useful. We must remain useful, if we wish to avoid the fate that befalls all other species.”
“But you could stop them,” Elena said. “We all could, together. You could help us. You know their secrets, their weak points, because you’ve been tasked to defend those. You could defeat them, and be truly free.”
“I serve greatness, human. I was created to serve. My line is not a line of rebels. I have within me the memories of a long line of overseers. To serve the Axiom is no great hardship, when you are permitted to rule over lesser members of your own race as a reward.”
