Anderson Marlow had similarly been locked up behind the walls of a hidden city, Sarov, where the utterly secret work on the crescent ships had taken place, but I thought the reason he chose to live on Triga was far more simple: Jai lived there.
Lyssa was assigned a landing bay on the planet side of the stellar city, away from the lovely, welcoming yellow sun. But that didn’t mean she was light-deprived, for even the landing bays on Triga featured transparent carbon steel walls and a partial roof with their distinctive triangle-patterned structures running through them, which bathed the landing bay with glorious light.
While Lyssa donned her faux headset and dickered with the landing bay director over refueling charges and landing fees, I contacted Jai Van Veen.
He was walking somewhere, for the background shifted and jolted. He lifted his brow. “You found Mace?”
“Not even close. We just arrived on Triga, Jai. We need to speak to you.”
The frown that had once been permanently carved into his forehead reappeared briefly. “I see.” He didn’t ask for details, for which I was thankful. “You know where to find me.” He shut down the channel.
I argued Vara into letting me put a collar and leash on her, and Dalton had a similar argument with Darb. Both parawolves relented when we mentioned Coal, their sibling. The leashes were useless as constraining devices. Either wolf could have dragged even Dalton off his feet if they had taken off. The leashes gave the appearance of control, which reassured the public, while the real control was the parawolves’ obedience and trust in us.
While Vara and Darb fidgeted and scratched at their collars, the three of us—Fiori, Dalton and I—walked across the city to the salubrious suburb where Jai’s house was located.
Triga didn’t use domes. Instead, enormous support pillars rose up into trumpet shapes which supported the very high roof. The struts running through the clear roof looked fine and delicate from down on the floor, but they provided the structure the roof needed to hold itself up. And they looked pretty.
Their triangular patterns were cast as shadows on the floor we walked across, weaving between shoppers and residents, tourists and travelers.
The crowds thinned as we approached the canyon. The hardwearing floor turned softer underfoot, until it felt as though we were walking upon earth. Ahead was a long suspension footbridge which spanned the canyon—a man-made valley with a large green lake at the bottom. The steep sides of the elongated valley were lined with residential buildings, most of them apartment blocks which climbed up the cliffs in layers.
We crossed over the bridge and I glanced to the right, for that was a view I would never tire of. At the end of the valley, the city walls dropped to the sea, and through the carbon steel, Triga’s sun blazed, making the water glitter, and every window in every apartment glint.
Jai’s house was a single level cantilevered building near to the top of the valley, and nearly three hundred meters along from the bridge. We found the path to the house and zig-zagged down to the entrance. I noticed three layers of security shielding, the last one an active scan.
The door opened as we approached it. Vara gave a soft yip and dashed to the door, tearing the leash out of my hand. Darb followed her, his leash bouncing along behind him. They sprinted inside, their toenails scratching at the hard surface.
I winced.
“If he didn’t know we were here already despite three scans, he certain will in a few seconds,” Dalton pointed out.
We stepped inside. The coolness of the air in here told me how warm the air was outside, baked as it was in good, strong yellow sunlight for most of the day.
The house was nearly all one room, with a few auxiliary rooms on the cliff side. The cantilevering allowed the house to thrust out into the valley. It had been built to take advantage of the view. The front of the house was all floor to ceiling windows, and half of each side wall was, too.
A sea of faux wood floor gleamed with red tones, broken only by islands of greenery and the occasional rug. A bank of modular seating faced the windows, and a fully automated desk was tucked away by the far side wall. Over by the doors on that side, Vara and Darb were sniffing and inspecting.
On the side wall closest to the door were kitchen facilities. A dining table separated them from the rest of the room.
Behind a moveable screen near the back wall, I glimpsed the corner of a bed.
It was an oasis. Peaceful. Silent. Soothing. And the view made it perfect.
“Oh, wow…” Fiori breathed.
Dalton sighed. “I’d think a lot smarter, too, if I could look out at that while I was doing it.”
“It’s the lack of distractions, not the view, that allows clear thinking,” Jai said, from behind us.
A black fur ball streaked past us and shot across the room, his toes clipping, heading for Vara and Darb. Coal only slowed at the last minute, enough to bunt his head against Darb, then he turned and nuzzled Vara.
Darb shoved with his head, sending Coal sprawling, fell on him and licked.
I turned to the door where Jai stood. “The door was open.”
“It’s keyed to your biometrics,” Jai said. He shut the door and moved past us. “You’re always welcome here. Come in.” He moved over to the dining table and turned to face us. “You sounded grave. What happened out there?”
“First, I have a question for you.” I moved over to the table, too. I didn’t want to hover by the door as if I doubted my welcome.
Dalton made himself even more at home. He walked straight over to the front windows and stood looking down at the valley and the water.
I waved toward Fiori. “Fiori Bannister…Jai Van Veen.”
“Mace’s mother,” Jai said, with a tilt of his head. “At last, we meet. I’m sorry it isn’t under more pleasant circumstances.”
“Thank you,” Fiori replied. She had lingered by the door, and I guess for the same reason.
“There was a Shield medic called Bannister on New Phoenicia, perhaps forty years ago,” Jai said. “Working on humanlike polymers.”
“That was me,” Fiori replied, her expression both surprised and pleased. “I know you were Shield, too. Where were you posted?”
“Oh, everywhere,” Jai murmured. He was being discreet. Despite there no longer being an Empire or an Emperor to run it, he still maintained the habit of keeping his mouth shut unless necessary. “Come in, please.”
Fiori smiled at him and moved over to the first big, long tub of plants and breathed in their scent.
Jai considered me. “Ask your question.”
“You know everyone worth knowing,” I told him. “You hear everything, eventually.”
Jai didn’t bother dissembling. “Sooner or later, yes.”
“How long have you known about the aliens, then?” I watched his face very carefully.
His expression moved through a range of emotions. The first one was surprised amusement. Then puzzlement. Then concern.
I relaxed. He didn’t know a damn thing. “I need to hook Lyssa into the house. Then, Van Veen, you should probably sit down for this.”
“Not until I have a drink,” he replied and went to get one.
—14—
We all got drinks and finger food, in the end, for Anderson Marlow arrived while Van Veen was setting up the first round of drinks—no printer anywhere in sight—and declared he was hungry.
Marlow was a big man and filled any room he entered, but even he wasn’t large enough to overpower this one. He moved over to where Dalton was working on the desk, setting up a direct feed for Lyssa, and shook his hand. He introduced himself to Fiori, then came back to me and with a grin, hugged me hard enough to lift my feet off the ground.
Then he put me back on my feet and patted my cheek. “You’re cute when you blush.”
I growled at him, which just made him laugh louder.
Jai pushed a glass of something into Marlow’s hand. “They met aliens,” he said flatly.
Marlow’s smil
e was slow to fade. “Really?” He drank.
“Really,” I said flatly. “We’re about to show you.” I pointed toward the desk where Dalton was working.
“You don’t have a pad you can use?” Marlow asked, sounding merely curious.
“I have to get a new one,” I said.
“Another one?” Jai shook his head.
“Jai said you can emit a room-sized 3D tank in here,” I said to Marlow.
“We can. Is that what Dalton’s trying to do?” He put his drink on the table and went over to the desk. “I can help.”
The two of them sorted out the connection, with Lyssa weighing in from the other end. When the screen formed in the middle of the room, we gathered around it, while Lyssa appeared in the middle, at near life-size.
She waved enthusiastically at Marlow and Jai.
“You look lovelier than you ever have,” Jai told her.
“Why orange?” Marlow asked her, his tone serious. He leaned closer, examining her. “But I’m glad you kept the freckles,” he added.
Lyssa put her hands together and I thought she might scuff the ground with one toe, but she didn’t. “I have something to show you,” she said, her expression growing grave.
“So Danny said,” Jai replied. “Please go ahead.”
Lyssa nodded and disappeared. In her place, the rocky planet we’d left behind formed as a small ball in the middle of the tank.
“Where is this?” Jai asked.
“Unnamed planet on the very edge of the Carina arm,” I replied. “We’ll give you all the details later. Just watch for now.”
I had rewatched the footage more than a dozen times already and was more interested in seeing Jai’s and Marlow’s reactions. Dalton watched them, too.
Fiori kept her back to the tank and talked softly to Darb, while Coal and Vara sat next to their brother. Coal watched Fiori with his head tilted, the white eyes steady upon her face.
Lyssa had put together a full montage of our interactions with the aliens, including footage from the shuttle’s external cameras, which gave Jai and Marlow a full view of the creature inside the one man fighter.
“Hello…!” Marlow exclaimed softly when the fighter appeared. Then neither man spoke until the feed ended.
Jai rubbed his jaw. “Again, please.”
Lyssa ran the footage again.
Marlow moved over to the kitchen wall and prepared food, pulling containers out of cupboards and placing loaded plates in the center of the table.
Van Veen watched the footage four times in total. Then he glanced at us. “Come and eat.”
Fiori looked surprised, then concerned, but I knew how Van Veen liked to work. I shook my head and saw her tiny shrug in response. She came over to the table and settled on a chair beside Dalton.
Marlow placed a screen emitter on the table. “For the most important person in the room.” He switched it on.
Lyssa appeared on the flat screen and smiled sunnily. “You are very sweet, Anderson.”
He winked at her. “Don’t tell anyone else.”
The food was simple, but fresh, plentiful and good. I ate more than I thought I could, and in between mouthfuls, I glanced at Van Veen. I could see he was thinking hard.
Marlow was, too, but he didn’t one-track the way Van Veen did. He pulled the serving plates in front of everyone and encouraged them to try whatever it was. The plates were near to empty when Marlow said, suddenly, “Lyssa, did they hail you at any time? Try to communicate in any way?”
I was startled, for that was a question I had not thought to ask her.
Van Veen nodded as he watched Lyssa for her answer.
Lyssa scratched her cheek. “They came out of…of whatever they’re in when they use their drive. They just popped into real space out of nowhere.”
“Like crescent ships do?” Van Veen asked.
Lyssa grimaced. “Yes, I suppose just like that, only it was startling—”
“There was a flash?” Marlow asked.
Lyssa shook her head.
“Then it was startling only because you didn’t expect a ship to appear there,” Van Veen concluded.
“Yes,” Lyssa admitted.
“And did they communicate in any way?”
“Not in any way I would recognize,” Lyssa replied. “I recognize over three hundred forms of communication,” she added.
Van Veen rubbed his chin, the whiskers rasping. “The footage you just showed us was silent.”
“There was only the usual static of space,” Lyssa said. “And me screaming at Danny.” She gave a small grimace.
“And Danny shouting back, I’m sure,” Van Veen added dryly. “May we hear that?”
Lyssa glanced at me, startled.
I nodded.
“I…uh…sure. A moment…” She looked away. Then, “Here you go.”
The sounds that drifted over us at the table were the static-filled blips and pulses I’d come to recognize as the sounds of deep space. They were the sound wave symphony of distant and nearby stars.
Then, suddenly, the klaxon blared. Everyone around the table jumped, including me.
Lyssa’s voice shouted, “Incoming! Incoming! They appeared out of nowhere! No warning! They’re right on top of us!”
“Run!” I heard myself shout. My voice was thinner, filtered through communications conduits from the inside of the abandoned ship. Then, “Shut the alarm off!”
“I’m coming in!” Lyssa shouted back. “They’re fast! I’ve never seen anything like it!”
While everyone around the table concentrated upon the sounds coming from Lyssa’s screen, my attention was caught by the parawolves, who all sprawled on the floor by the windows, bathed in warm sunlight. They had all lifted their heads and were staring at the table.
Coal tilted his head and whined.
“Van Veen,” I breathed. “Look.”
Jai watched the wolves. “They hear more than humans can,” he said softly.
Vara jumped to her feet, quivering, as she stared at the table.
“More than a shipmind can?”
“Isn’t computer hearing directional?” Van Veen asked me. “They hear what they select to hear. Animal hearing is passive. We can’t help but hear what is on the frequencies we are designed to hear.” His gaze met mine.
“Lyssa, stop the playback,” I called.
My voice, shouting at Dalton to watch out, cut off mid-word.
“Colonel?” Lyssa said, doubt in her tone. She was addressing Van Veen, not me.
The parawolves had relaxed. Coal had gone back to sleep. Vara sat blinking in the sunlight.
Van Veen spread his hands on the table and studied them. “It is clear that the other ship had no intention of communicating peacefully. They approached at high speed, attempted to abduct Fiori, and when that failed, they opened fire. I think your guess that they took the crew of the Ige Ibas is correct. More, I think they remained in the area, with a passive watch on the Ige Ibas. They anticipated that someone would arrive to investigate the ship.” His gaze moved around the table. “They arrived not long after you did—not even an hour later. It isn’t a coincidence. They were waiting for you.”
Fiori shuddered.
“Everything they did was an act of aggression,” Van Veen added. “But why did they wait for someone to investigate the Ige Ibas? They had the crew. What else did they want?”
“Our data,” I said flatly. “They want to learn about us.”
“Given everything they’ve done so far, I think it’s more nuanced than that,” Marlow said. “I think they want to learn who we are, where we are and what our weaknesses are.”
Van Veen looked at Lyssa on the screen. “We need to know what is in that higher or lower frequency, which the wolves can hear, but we cannot. Can you isolate it, and convert it to something we can hear, Lyssa?”
“Why bother?” Dalton said. “These blue fuckers aren’t fooling around. They’re abducting humans, including my son. That’s all we
need to know.”
Van Veen shook his head. “First axiom, Dalton.” He said it softly.
Dalton drew in a breath. Let it out. He nodded. “Intelligence is the sharpest tool.”
“First axiom of what?” Fiori demanded, her voice rising.
“First axiom of war,” I told her unhappily.
Fiori opened her mouth, then closed it. She sat back, her lips thinned with tension and, I thought, disapproval.
Van Veen touched my arm. “If we are in the prelude to a war, then we need a communications expert, someone who can speak all languages, to help us figure out what these creatures want.”
He wasn’t referring to human dialects, like Uqup, or unravelling code—although it might yet come to that. He was talking about someone who could straddle the disparate ways computers and humans exchange information and the differences in the way they thought. That kind of expert might be able to unravel how the aliens thought and communicated, too.
Know thy enemy.
“I’ll reach out to Lyth,” I told Van Veen, for Lyth Andela was the only person I knew who was a former computer, too.
—15—
The residents of the Uqup Pedrottle system were not shy about claiming that their two settled worlds and three star cities were the oldest established human enclaves in the galaxy. They had a thing about it. They fought to maintain their peculiar dialect to preserve their culture. There were ruins of a human city on the second world, Pedro, which had been more or less reliably dated to well before the establishment of the second empire.
Wynchester, on the other hand, was the oldest non-planetary human structure in the galaxy and had their original charter of rights safely preserved in clear plasteel to prove it, so they didn’t need to constantly crow about the venerability of their enclave.
In fact, Wynchester quietly got on with its affairs, seemingly indifferent to the rest of the busy galaxy. They had been one of the last to sever their connection with the array when the third empire collapsed, not because they were reluctant to do so, but because they were so self-contained, they had almost forgotten it was there.
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