From Ruins

by M. C. A. Hogarth

  His gaze was an evaluation, so swift it might have been missed had she not been expecting it. And then he smiled. "I never doubted."

  Into that silence came a chime like every other chime that heralded a request, and it didn't matter. This chime was different. Somehow they all knew they had run out of time. Or maybe they hadn't and it didn't matter, because nothing was going to change until it was too late. And if that was true....

  Laniis grabbed the uniform cape she'd dropped on the table and strode to the door.

  "Where are you going!" the Knife called.

  "Back to the Silhouette," Laniis said. "I'm done bashing my head against this wall. If the Chatcaava are coming, I'm not staying here to die like a civilian."

  Sediryl still had trouble encompassing the scale of the vessel she was riding. She could understand-a little-how a starbase might be so large it could fool her senses into believing she was on a planet. Probably because it also looked like a planet. But she'd gotten hopelessly lost in the corridors on her way to this bay, and having arrived and found it empty save for the Visionary, empty and cavernous... and this was no station, but a mobile platform. She couldn't imagine the thousands of Chatcaava who must be required to man it. Such was the size of the war in which she was now embroiled.

  But oh, her ship.

  She ran her hand along its crumpled tip, wincing at the corrugation and outright tears that exposed the layers of its hull. The Chatcaava who'd brought it back had reported it beyond anything but a drydock; through their Queen's translation they'd conveyed their incredulity that anyone had survived the crash, and looking at it like this, Sediryl didn't blame them. But Liolesa's vessel had served so faithfully Sediryl was determined to bring her home, and maybe see if that drydock couldn't restore her.

  Cataloging the ship's many wounds gave her something to do. There had been enough just getting to this point, but now that their fleet was on its way to the Alliance, all that activity had drained away, leaving Sediryl restless. She didn't feel ready to approach Jahir again, particularly given how much Vasiht'h needed him. Nor did she join the conferences hosted by the Chatcaava; she didn't want to pretend to military knowledge she didn't have, though she guessed Liolesa would demand she rectify that fault in her education once all this was... not over, because it wouldn't be over for a long time. But at a point where she could consider her own development.

  Sediryl was at a loss. She hated waiting. And her thoughts kept returning to the pirate base. Had the pirates retreated there after their losses at the Twelveworld? Had they resumed buying and selling people? The people Sediryl intended to rescue as soon as she could be spared... she had promised them. Promised herself. She climbed into the open hatch and sat on its edge, her legs swinging free above the bay deck. Did Liolesa pace? Sediryl couldn't remember.

  "It's a mess, isn't it," Maia said, her voice tinny.

  Sediryl jumped, pressing a hand to her racing heart. "Maia!"

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I've got a thread here, running backups. It's not a great solution, since with the commboard trashed I can't transmit them anywhere useful, but having them gives me a little security."

  "As much as any of us can have," Sediryl murmured.

  "Yes." An aggravated noise, then a sigh. "I wish the emitters worked. I'd sit with you. As it is, the speakers are barely functional. By my standards, anyway."

  Sediryl hid a smile. "You do sound less distinct than usual."

  "I can't really localize my voice to any specific point without the system being in good repair. Sorry about that." The D-per paused. "You're all right?"

  How to answer that. Yes? No? Yes for now? No, never, but she would manage? "I don't know."

  "Honest, at least." Another, longer pause. "Sediryl... I'm sorry."

  Frowning, Sediryl looked up.

  "I was supposed to help you. Be there for you. And I abandoned you when the trouble got hottest."

  "Maia, no." Sediryl hugged herself. "You didn't abandon me. That requires intent on your part. You were torn away. That's different."

  "But I'm not supposed to be able to be torn away that easily! That was part of the point of having me with you! I'm not like a flesh-and-blood person. I have more resources. I'm harder to kill..."

  "Maia," Sediryl interrupted, before the D-per could talk herself into a froth. "Maia, you did all you could, and as you yourself told me, it was enough. We accomplished what we intended."

  "Yes, but you got hurt. I can tell something's wrong and I... I wasn't there."

  There. That was anguish, no matter how tightly controlled. Sediryl closed her eyes, wondering how she'd come to deserve such loyalty. "But you were there," she said. "All your advice. Your voice in my head. I asked myself ‘what would Maia say' and somehow, I knew." She set her hand on the bulkhead, hoping the gesture communicated her desire to comfort. "And you're here now, again. And we did what we had to, and we're still in one piece. As long as we're breathing, arii, we can go on. We can learn from our mistakes." She grimaced. "Or at least, I can. I don't know that you made any."

  "I made one horrible one," Maia said. "I assumed Crispin was on our side."

  "He was," Sediryl said. "In the end."

  Maia's pause was longer then.

  "Yes, I'll tell you the story, if Vasiht'h doesn't first," Sediryl said. Or Crispin himself. She wondered if he would take Vasiht'h up on the offer of help, and which government the Glaseah would press to offer the amnesty that help would require.

  "I'll hold you to that," Maia said. "Maybe over that drink you promised me if we ever found ourselves in some more comfortable situation."

  "What dr-" Sediryl stopped, blurted a surprised laugh. "You remember that."

  "I'm a D-per, arii." A grin Sediryl could hear despite the fatigue. "We remember everything."

  "Ha, I'll keep that in mind."

  "Don't look now," Maia said. "We have company."

  The bay was so large Sediryl saw their visitor only as a speck. She squinted, trying to bring the figure into focus, and failing that gave herself over to waiting. Maia's voice had sounded tense, but not in a bad way. If Sediryl had been forced to characterize it, she would have thought her D-per sounded the way she did when she talked about Jahir. Was that even possible? But then, Crispin had demonstrated D-pers were capable of every emotion....

  Their visitor was Uuvek, who stopped at the ship's side and narrowed his eyes at the damage. He tapped its skin with his talons, ducked under the tip, and began walking the opposite flank. Sediryl twisted around, trying to keep him in view, but lost him until he reappeared on the other side of the engines.

  Joining her, the Chatcaavan said, "Solid ship."

  "Thank you?" Sediryl said. "I think she's beautiful."

  "This is home?" Uuvek asked, obviously not talking to her.

  "Yes," Maia said, subdued. Shy? "Like I told you. I'm just not fully in it, since it's too damaged."

  "Saw the reports." Uuvek looked at Sediryl. "May I inspect the interior?"

  Should he? She supposed if there were military secrets on this vessel, Liolesa would have said so, and Maia would have objected. "Go ahead."

  The Chatcaavan grunted and pulled himself through the hatch without waiting for her to move out of the way. Sediryl wondered if she should follow him, but he didn't seem to want company? Except possibly for Maia's? She wondered.

  "Maia?" she asked, unable to help her arched brow.

  "Ah... we've been talking. That's all."

  "Talking," Sediryl repeated.

  "He wrote my wrapper, you know. So I could follow you. The Chatcaavan network and the Alliance network don't interconnect. Since I was in the Chatcaavan skein anyway, I kept in contact with him because he was the only one who could help me evolve the code keeping me protected and active."

  Something about this conversation, so innocent and normal, made Sediryl want to cry. Or laugh. She was on an alien warship, on her way to a cataclysmic conflict, with blood on her hands, innocent and not, fac
ing all the uncertainties of her life before her... and she was talking with another woman about a man. "Naturally."

  "He's very good," Maia said. "At what he does."

  "An admirable trait," Sediryl said, hearing her own mother in her voice and finding that painfully hilarious.

  "It's really remarkable that he interacts with me the way he does. For a culture that has no conception of non-flesh-and-blood people, it's amazing that he treats me like another person. Come to think of it, he's from a culture that treats most of its flesh-and-blood members like non-persons..."

  Her D-per was babbling. Sediryl tried not to find it endearing, because she shouldn't be able to smile about something so normal after everything that had happened and was still about to. She failed. "He seems to be a very unusual Chatcaavan."

  "He really is. And brilliant."

  "I have no doubt."

  Maia sounded anxious. "Do you like him?"

  "I don't know him very well, but what I've seen of him has been..." What? Bemusing? Baffling? "Agreeable."

  "Yes!" Maia said. "Agreeable is good. You see...."

  Uuvek appeared from the corridor beside the hatch. "Maia is in your employ. Yes?"

  "She's in my Queen's," Sediryl said. "And I'm the Queen's ambassador to the Alliance. And possibly heir. So... in a manner of speaking."

  "Good," Uuvek said. "I would also like to be in your employ."

  "I... I'm sorry?"

  "I have been speaking with Maia," Uuvek said. "She says she is this vessel's crew. This vessel could use a technician. Also, it needs repair. But we can handle that once we're done with the rest of this." He waved a hand, dismissing the entire war.

  "You... you want to work for me," Sediryl repeated. "But I don't live here, in the Empire."

  "So?" Uuvek said. "I'm not interested in staying in the Empire. Alien ideas are intriguing. I'd like to experiment with them."

  "I don't know what to say," Sediryl stammered. "I... I suppose I will put your request before my aunt?"

  "Good. Make sure she says yes." Uuvek tapped the bulkhead. "A solid ship. We'll save it. The repair will take time, but it will be an interesting project. I'll oversee it."

  The thought of a Chatcaavan managing the overhaul of an Eldritch ship in an Alliance shipyard staggered Sediryl, but she also couldn't imagine anyone stopping Uuvek from doing it. "That would be... that would be very helpful. Thank you." She paused. "If this becomes my vessel, you will end up working with me."

  "Correct."

  "That suits you?"

  Uuvek eyed her critically. "You seem more practical than that Eldritch male we met on that borderworld. I can work with practical."

  "Me too," Sediryl managed.

  Uuvek said, "Good. I will return, Maia, when I'm off-duty. We'll begin with the commboard."

  "Thanks, arii."

  After the Chatcaavan had receded, Sediryl said, "Arii, is it."

  Maia answered, sheepish, "Ah... he's a friend?"

  "A good one," Sediryl said, looking toward the distant cargo bay doors. "You think we'll survive to see the world he plans to live in?"

  "We'd better, because I'm not ready to give up yet." When Sediryl looked toward the ceiling, Maia's voice grew determined. "I mean that, arii. We've made sacrifices. They're not going to be in vain."

  "I believe you." Sediryl's hands tightened on the edge of the hatch. Because I have to.

  "At least the waiting's over," Meryl said.

  "Huzzah," Na'er muttered.

  Following Laniis had brought them back to the Silhouette, and Lisinthir was glad of that. It felt right that they were together. These people had seen him through a great deal; if he was to meet the final enemy, he could think of far worse company.

  He did not allow himself to think of the Emperor, the Queen, his cousins. He would see them again, or not.

  "So," Shanelle said, "It's as bad as we thought it would be."

  "Have they assigned us somewhere?" Meryl asked. "Or has Fleet Central forgotten its Intelligence vessels have weapons, as usual?"

  "Hell if it's going to matter," Shanelle answered. "If you'll excuse me for saying it."

  Meryl shook her head. Turning to Lisinthir, the Hinichi said, "I assume telling you to go below won't have any effect on your behavior."

  "We're not going anywhere," the Knife said. "My huntsister says this is her fight. My Emperor's Ambassador says it is his. Even if it hadn't been mine already, that would make it mine."

  Meryl's brows lifted. She said to Kuuvel, "Am I going to get a similar impassioned statement from you?"

  "No," Kuuvel said cheerfully. He patted his case. "I am here because if someone blows a limb off, I can put it back on. I think. Hopefully your bodies work similarly to ours."

  "Encouraging," Meryl said, resigned. "Strap in, then. Na'er, Dust us and take us out. Until they give us orders otherwise, we have scout duty."

  None of them said the obvious thing, which was how unnecessary that scout duty was. Lisinthir didn't need Meryl's advanced training in tactics to read this situation. The system lords had come in force, and so long as they maintained cohesion there would be no stopping them. The Alliance might ruin most of the Chatcaavan vessels on the way in but it would use itself up in the doing, and it wouldn't matter how few Chatcaava remained when the standards fell. There would still be Chatcaava standing, and no one left to gainsay them.

  As the blue dots representing the rest of the Alliance Fleet on the display mobilized, the Knife said bitterly, "They believe us now."

  "Wonderful," Kuuvel said. "We'll die honorable males. Just what I always wanted."

  The Silhouette slid out of orbit. Beneath Lisinthir's feet the deck hummed, the peculiar hushed sound of the ship traveling dark.

  "Isn't this the part where we sing songs?" Shanelle said. "You know, as we go bravely into battle to die."

  "I don't feel much like singing," Na'er said, eyes locked on his display.

  Shanelle offered, "Tell funny stories?"

  "My colleague in the palace said I'd go to my pyre making jokes," Kuuvel said. "But I can't think of any at the moment."

  "He'll be disappointed," Shanelle said.

  Kuuvel sighed. "He so often is. It's those standards of his. Far too high. Come to think of it, that's probably why his patients live longer than mine."

  "See, that's more like it."

  The Chatcaavan grinned. "Glad to oblige."

  After that, the silence felt bearable. Not lighter... nothing could accomplish that, not seeing the size of the invasion accelerating for Selnor. But they could breathe. Lisinthir leaned back against the restraints, listening to the quiet exchanges between the crew and watching the flicker of lights across the consoles. Worse company to die in, indeed. He only wished his head would stop aching. It seemed the moment he most wanted clarity was the moment his body chose to afflict him. And not just with pain, but with this sense of anxiety. What use worry? All their choices had narrowed to a single course. There was no point in urgency-

  No point, for him.

  Lisinthir sat up so abruptly the straps gouged his shoulders. /Cousin? COUSIN!/

  Nothing but that pounding in his temples. He could just touch the edge of his cousin's aura, touch but not grasp. Too far-

  ...and then another aura joined his cousin's, boosting it into range. Jahir poured into Lisinthir's head, the sentence half-spoken. /...almost there! Lisinthir, we're almost there, is it well? Are they ready for us?/

  /Are they ready!/ Lisinthir struggled with elation and horror. /Cousin, all the system lords are in the capital system, halfway to the planet!/

  The shock that raced between them was so sudden, and so angry, that he swayed and grabbed for his head. Beside him, the Knife said, "Ambassador?"

  When Jahir spoke, there was thunder under him, like the roar of thousands of Well engines. /We're bringing the Twelveworld Lord's fleet with ours, cousin. There are more than enough of us to put paid to the enemy. Tell me you can talk to someone who can coordi
nate. We can trap the invaders between us./

  "And crush them," Lisinthir whispered. His lips were wet-when had he started crying?

  "Ambassador!" the Knife exclaimed, and now the rest of the crew was turning toward him.

  "They've come," Lisinthir said. "Our allies have come, thousands strong. They're behind the attackers."

  "What!" Shanelle said.

  "Merciful Christ," Meryl whispered. "Who hears the prayers of His children." She stood, once again the commander. "Where are they? How many? What's their ETA? Can you talk to them?" At his nod, she snapped, "Laniis, open a channel to the White Admiral's flagship." As Laniis lunged for her board, Meryl said to Lisinthir, "You're sure? This is real?"

  /We come, cousin. Your lover says to leave some of the enemy for him... and his Queen says that today the wingless will retake the sky./

  "I'm sure," Lisinthir said. "As God is my witness." And then he choked on his sob and let his face drop into his hands.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Vasiht'h had never known the contentment he had on the Chatcaavan flagship, leaving the Empire. Hours and hours of lying on the floor alongside Jahir's bunk, with his head pillowed on his arms beside his friend, just... being there. Being there, or talking, haltingly or softly, about what they'd been through while parted, and all the while savoring each others' presence again, physical and psychic. Of the two of them, Jahir had suffered the worst, bodily. Vasiht'h didn't object to Jahir's assertion that the Glaseah had had the worst of it, emotionally.

  "...it was bad," Vasiht'h said, cheek on his arm. He could hear Jahir's breathing, feel it ruffling the fur on that arm. "I had no idea I was capable of the things I felt. Anger... anger so intense it was like a sunburn on the inside of my head. Despair like I've never... I didn't even think I could feel despair like that. Emptiness sometimes." Vasiht'h fell silent, chewing on the inside of his cheek until a gentle prod through the mindline made him stop. "Now that it's over, I almost can't believe it happened. It's like someone else's dream."

  "Your dream has not ended yet," Jahir said gently.

  "I hope it won't involve this much feeling." Vasiht'h looked at his friend, rueful. "That's a little too much intensity for me. The kind of problems we usually have are more my cup of tea."