The Galactic Chronicles: Shadows of the Void Books 8 - 10
Page 19
Trimborn introduced Jas to the creatures, then said, “Ma’am, this is Head of Nest of this nation.” He added under his breath, “The translators can’t seem to handle their names, but it doesn’t appear to matter.”
“The Unity Alliance accepts your thanks,” Jas said, “but it’s unneeded. As members of the Transgalactic Council, you are entitled to military aid in the case of invasion. We only regret that we couldn’t free your planet sooner. May I ask how the implementation of the Shadow Sweep protocols is progressing?”
“Well, well, very well,” the Head of Nest replied. “Your scanners are working very well. We’ve found many Shadows. They are very delicious. Thank you. Thank you.”
Jas’ already sensitive stomach turned over. She caught a glimpse of Trimborn’s smirk from the corner of her eye.
“You’re...welcome. I’m glad to hear that things are progressing quickly. I’m here to inform you that I must withdraw my team from your world soon. We can supply you with more scanners if you need them, but after the training period is over, you must cooperate with the other nations of your planet to detect any remaining Shadows. Are you confident that your citizens will be able to implement the protocols effectively?”
“Yes, yes. Your trainers teach very well. We understand what to do, and we will do it. Thank you. Thank you.”
Jas nodded. She would have to see Trimborn’s assessment report before taking the alien’s word for it.
“One more thing,” she went on. “The Shadow ship that we destroyed, was it from this planet?”
“Yes, yes. It was from here.”
“So it was one of your starships?”
“No, no. Not one of ours. The Shadows built it here. Imported materials. We don’t build starships from metal. We make them from...” Jas’ comm emitted a tone that meant it was unable to translate the word.
“I see,” she said. “Thank you for the information.”
She concentrated on the Head of Nest—the one non-moving alien in front of her. The creatures’ squirming around was increasing her nausea.
“Um,” she said, trying to think up a reason to cut the visit short. “I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me, but I have urgent business to take care of, so—”
“Yes, yes. You’re very busy. We understand. But we would like to show you a little of our home and what we do here, if you can spare the time. Thank you. Thank you.”
Jas hesitated. Right then, she wanted nothing more than to return to the baking overground, the shuttle, and then the Thylacine.
“I think I know what it means,” Trimborn said. “It’s very interesting, ma’am. Won’t take long, I don’t think.”
Jas studied her first officer. A trace of the man’s earlier smirk remained. Was he setting her up for something? But she was feeling too under the weather to think up a suitably polite refusal to tell the Head of Nest. Political diplomacy was just about her worst skill as a Unity commander. She swallowed.
“I would love to see more of your home,” she said to the alien.
Along with its group, the creature turned and squirmed away. Jas assumed she was supposed to follow, and set off after them, checking that Trimborn and the others were coming along too.
“What’s this about?” she asked Trimborn quietly as he drew level with her.
“If it’s the same thing they showed us before,” he replied, “they’re taking us to see their mythrin mine. I thought it was fascinating. Well worth an hour or so, if you can spare it, ma’am.”
Jas took a deep breath and exhaled, which made her feel a little better. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
The Head of Nest had brought them to a door that was a spiral, like an old-style camera lens. It opened automatically as they neared it, and the eyes of the aliens glowed to light up the dark tunnel beyond. This tunnel was smooth white rock, lacking the decoration of the entrance tunnel. The surface lightly reflected the beams from the creatures’ eyes, creating a shimmering effect.
In other circumstances, Jas thought to herself, she would have enjoyed exploring this planet—its unsightly sentient species aside.
She and her officers followed the undulating Head of Nest as the tunnel sloped sharply down, until Jas was leaning backward in an effort not to slip. The creatures didn’t seem to have a problem with the angle. In fact, some of them began wriggling along the walls in defiance of gravity.
When the floor finally evened out, they stopped. They’d arrived at the end of the tunnel, though in the walls opposite each other were two smaller holes, linked by a strip of highly polished, flat ground.
The Head of Nest said, “Waiting, waiting. Thank you. Thank you.”
A sound of rushing wind was coming from one of the holes in the wall, and within a few moments the source of the sound appeared. It was a torpedo-shaped cart made of a hard, stony material, and it hovered a centimeter or two above the ground.
Following the Head of Nest’s lead, Jas got in the cart along with her officers. The seating was made to fit the locals’ body shape, so they had to recline on it rather than sit. As soon as everyone was in, the cart whooshed off.
Jas looked around, trying to understand how the vehicle was moving.
“I couldn’t figure it out either, ma’am,” Trimborn said.
They were borne along at an increasingly fast speed until the ceiling and sides of the tunnel whizzed past them. Jas was careful to keep her head well down and her arms and legs tucked in. The long, low body shape of the natives made their danger of being hurt much lower. Whenever the vehicle tilted upward or downward at a sharp angle, the creatures’ bodies or clothing also prevented them from slipping out, while Jas had to grip on to the edge of her seat. She was reminded of rare visits to amusement parks when she was in the institute for cared-for children on Earth. The experience did, at least, take her mind off her nausea.
The ride slowed as quickly as it had begun when they arrived at a landing place. Jas climbed out of the cart, her legs wobbly. They were in a similar place to the one they’d just left, but the rock surface was more roughly hewn.
“This is one of our oldest seams,” the Head of Nest told her, “yet it remains productive. Yes. Yes.”
The creature led them down yet another tunnel. This one bore markings along the ceiling, which seemed to be notices or signs. Jas wondered how much farther they had to go. Her neck ached from stooping in the low tunnel. Trimborn had said the trip would take an hour or so, and they’d already been traveling for around twenty-five minutes.
As she was about to ask if their destination was much farther, the Head of Nest stopped.
“Here it is. Here it is,” the alien announced.
Jas and her officers were at the back of the group. She looked around, wondering what she was supposed to be seeing. Trimborn nudged her. The aliens in front of them were shuffling sideways, creating a gap for them to pass through. Jas went forward.
The Head of Nest said, “Welcome. Welcome. See.”
Jas followed the direction of its glowing eyes to a spot on the wall. A tube was fixed there below a tiny crack. The tube was the same color and material as the wall, which was why she’d failed to see it at first.
“That’s it, ma’am,” Trimborn said, arriving at her side.
“That’s it?” Jas asked.
“Yes. Look inside the tube.”
Jas leaned forward until her forehead was nearly resting on the wall. Deep down in the tube, a liquid glinted in the glow from the assembled aliens’ eyes. The liquid was a delicate, pale pink. Jas noticed that at the edge of the crack above the tube, a drop of the liquid had swelled. As she watched, the drop fell. Simultaneously, the collected aliens’ bodies trembled.
“This is it. This is it,” the Head of Nest said. “Mythrin is our world’s main source of income. We do not use it. Our bodies do not metabolize it. We only collect it and sell it. Very valuable. Yes. Yes.”
The color of the mythrin was much paler than the deep scarlet of mythranil, but that m
ade sense. Mythranil was the refined drug and mythrin was only the raw ingredient. Yet seeing the drug in its natural state made Jas shiver. The narcotic sent the user temporarily to the home of the Shadows, the Void, and it was vital for its use in Shadow scanners.
Also, they’d come a distance of kilometers deep underground to witness the collection of a single drop. No wonder the drug cost so much.
As they traveled back through the mythrin mine, Trimborn told Jas what he’d learned about mythrin from the natives of the planet: that only a particular combination of rare factors, including unusual geological formations and eons-long processes, would result in small amounts of the chemical oozing out of the rock.
“They didn’t even know they had mythrin on the planet,” he went on. “A couple of geologists who were scouting around found it. They tried to keep the discovery a secret, but the locals soon figured out what they were mining. Booted the geologists off the planet, or possibly ate them. They were vague about that part. Anyway, the local governments weren’t slow to exploit the new source of income. Now, according to one Head of Nest anyway, no one living on the planet need ever work again. Except for the miners, of course, and they receive double income.”
Trimborn chattered on after Jas had thanked the aliens and said goodbye. He went with her to the shuttle. She barely registered what he was saying, and as she returned to the Thylacine, her mind was deeply occupied.
The sight of the mythrin hadn’t only caused her to feel wonder. Though it had been five years since the one time she’d experienced the effects of mythranil, her memory of the experience remained strong. Her close proximity to its raw ingredient had created in her a deep desire to use it again.
The feeling of need for the illegal drug, together with her alcoholic binge the previous evening, her constant tiredness, and her inability to consider her future, as if she just didn’t care anymore what happened, brought her to another personal truth: she was beginning to fall apart.
Chapter Eight
When Jas arrived at her office aboard the Thylacine, a mail from Pacheco was awaiting her. He was requesting a face-to-face meeting, but this time he would come to her. The time he proposed was soon.
Jas sent her acceptance. The timing wasn’t great—she would have preferred longer to prepare her thoughts—but she was glad that the admiral had taken her concerns about the Shadow ship seriously. She left a note on the general system to say where she could be found, and waited.
The green motes of the gateway appeared in the air in the corner of her office. When the spiral was swirling strongly, the black-uniformed leg of the admiral appeared, soon followed by the rest of his body. He gave her a nod and took off his hat. Behind him, the gateway disappeared like water running down a plug hole.
“Jas,” he said, coming forward.
“Admiral Pacheco,” Jas replied. “Thank you for coming. I guess you must be very busy with the battle coming up. Please take a seat.” Jas sat behind her desk. “I take it that this is about my mail? Did any of the other commanders notice anything similar? What do you think about it? Are you going to modify the battle plans?”
Pacheco was putting his hat down and hitching up his trousers before sitting as Jas spoke. He gave her a quizzical look and an embarrassed half smile. He rested his hands on his knees.
“I read your report, Jas, and I agree that what you saw is odd, but the battle plan is complex, involving thousands of Unity Alliance ships and hundreds of thousands of personnel. We’re too far along to change anything now, even if your observations are correct. What do they mean anyway? That the Shadows have their own ships and very well trained pilots? I’m not sure how that’s going to change anything that we should or could do.”
Jas said, “Of course it should affect what we do. If they’re building their own ships, we could try to find out their specs. We could gather more intelligence in Shadow-controlled planets. If this is our best chance to defeat them, like you said, shouldn’t we make the best preparations we can?”
“Does something make you think we aren’t already gathering intelligence on Shadow-controlled planets?” Pacheco asked. “I can tell you that we’ve received no information about them building their own ships. Why would they need to when they can just take their victims’? It takes years to build new ships. Don’t forget that they only have the knowledge and skills of the people they murder. If they were designing new ships, we would have seen more evidence of it than a couple of vessels in a minor battle. Battleships aren’t exactly easy to hide.”
“But what if they have?” Jas asked. “The technology I observed on one of the ships was much better than ours. If we go ahead without knowing more, the next battle could be suicide for us.”
“If they do have a few starships that are better than ours, the sooner we annihilate them, the better.” Pacheco tutted and shook his head. “Jas, you’re not getting it. It’s too late to do anything now. The countdown’s begun and the wheels are turning. A little under three days from now, every available ship in the Unity Alliance fleet will jump into strategically decided coordinates, and the battle will commence. The last battle, I hope.”
Jas’ tension deflated with disappointment. She was sure there was something to be learned from what she’d seen, something important and worth acting upon, but it was clear that she wouldn’t persuade the admiral of it.
“Then,” she said with a frown, “why are you here?”
Pacheco picked up his hat and began turning it in his hands. He looked down at it as he seemed to think about how to answer her.
“Let’s forget about me being an admiral and you being a commander for a moment, okay?” he said at last. “We go back a long way, Jas, don’t we? Do you remember when we first met?”
Her heart sank. So this was why he’d come. Couldn’t the man take a hint?
“Yes,” she replied, “of course I do. You were serving on the Infineon, and I’d been sent there in command of a team of defense units. Some of the ship’s pilots died rescuing us when our transport was attacked.”
Pacheco nodded. “I was quite upset about that. We were short of pilots as it was, and to lose some over a handful of defense units and a single greenhorn, well, it didn’t seem worth it. Not that it was your fault.”
Jas replied. “I don’t think it was my fault either, but I felt bad about those pilots too. And all those who have died since.”
“I know you do. I know,” Pacheco said softly. His gaze returned to his hat.
Jas was squirming with embarrassment on the man’s behalf, though she didn’t know what she could do to avert him from the course he’d set upon.
“When the Shadows in the Infineon’s crew revealed themselves, and the fight erupted on the bridge,” he continued, “and Commander Torbin was killed, you and I were pinned down in one spot together...do you remember?”
“Yes, you got that horrible burn on your side from metal heated by laser fire.”
“That wasn’t so bad.” He paused. “I changed my mind about you during that fight. I saw how hard and how bravely you fought. I knew that the effort to save you had been worth it.”
Jas sighed. She wasn’t so sure about that.
“And since then,” Pacheco said, “we’ve served together most of the time. How many of us are left who have been in the war since the start, do you think? Not many, I guess.”
He gave a huff of frustration and put his hat down on the seat next to him.
Here it comes. Jas looked with sympathy into the man’s dark, troubled eyes.
“What I’m trying say is,” Pacheco said, “over the years, I’ve grown to care about you. Probably more than you think. And I wanted to come here and tell you so because in a few days’ time we’ll both be involved in something that’s going to decide the fate of the galaxy. Who knows if either of us will survive?
“It seemed important that I tell you how I feel,” he continued as Jas was wishing she could disappear into the floor. “I guess I’m here to find out if th
ere’s anything I can hope for when it’s all over. I’m not sure exactly what I mean to you, Jas, but I don’t think you feel the same way about me as I do about you. That’s what’s always stopped me from saying something. But I believe that it’s wrong to sit on these things forever. So here I am.”
He looked up, all the dignity and demeanor of his office and rank stripped away.
Jas’ heart ached for him, but not in the way he clearly hoped. She opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her, her expression apparently telling him everything he needed to know.
“It’s someone from your past, isn’t it,” he said heavily. “Someone from before we met. I noticed that you’ve never gotten together with anyone in all this time. I saw how eagerly you scanned your new recruits after I told you an old acquaintance was among them, and how your face fell when you didn’t see whoever it was you were hoping to find.”
“My private life is my own concern,” Jas said quietly.
The admiral’s disappointed features became hard and set. He stood and picked up his hat. “So you are clinging to the past, like I thought. In that case, you’re a fool. You’re wasting away your life on a memory when you could be happy. If you would just give someone else a chance, you could be loved. Did you ever consider that?”
Her hands clenching into fists at his attack, Jas also moved to stand but in her haste she banged her knees on her desk. She gave a gasp of pain and sat down again, her hands on her lower thighs. “Krat, Pacheco. Things aren’t that simple. I don’t get to choose how I feel.”
The admiral stepped toward her and stood over her, his black-suited figure shading out the overhead light. “You’re living in the past, Jas. Living on dreams.” He squatted down, looked up into her eyes, and continued in a more conciliatory tone, “When we win this battle, things will go back to normal. People will return home and pick up the pieces. Build new lives. Start anew. We always worked well together, Jas. You can’t deny it. We think alike. We have a good rapport. When all this is over, you and I would make a good team. And I know you don’t hate me. If you would just stop shutting me out, we could have something good going for us, don’t you think?”