Arkship Prophecy

by Niel Bushnell

  ‘Signal coming in,’ Lieutenant Thomas said. ‘Origin seems to be one of the Merred arkships, but the signal is being piggybacked and boosted by the gunships.’

  ‘Arkship Benwick.’ This was a new voice speaking over the com, less aggressive than the former Merred contact. ‘This is Regional Director Gilani on board the Merred arkship Mithra. Thank you for your offer of assistance. We require none. Our mark nines are in excellent condition.’

  Bara smiled with relief. The Director was testing her. ‘Gilani, this is Bara Delaterre on the Benwick. Good to hear from you, but those are mark twelves, and I think you could use a fresh pair of eyes. Those Boswell-HQLs don’t appreciate being jury-rigged like that, not without a feedback suppression rod to take the extra ionic build-up. I know, I’ve tried it myself.’

  ‘I’m speaking to an engineer?’ the man asked.

  ‘At heart, yes. I’m happy to give you my professional opinion. And we have supplies to trade. I’m sending you our inventory now . . . But if you’d rather not, we’ll leave you in peace.’

  There was a long pause. Bara could feel her son staring at her. Was he impressed? she wondered.

  ‘Benwick, thank you. Please, hold position and stand by.’

  Captain Beric shook his head. ‘I don’t like just sitting here, doing what they tell us to. We’re defenseless. At least let me power up the Gilgore Gird.’

  Bara waved her hand. ‘Sit tight, Gabriel. They’ll make us wait a while before they agree to a trade of materials. They don’t want to be seen asking for outside help, so they’ll use that as an excuse for us to go over there.’

  ‘Moving the Benwick into range of three Merred arkships isn’t my idea of a good trade,’ the captain muttered.

  ‘They won’t want that either. He’ll ask me to take a small team on a shuttle.’

  ‘You can’t go over there!’ Galen protested.

  Bara put her hand on his shoulder, trying her best to look calm. ‘This is how diplomacy works.’

  ‘Make them come here!’

  The com cracked once more. ‘Benwick, Mithra. We are low on potassium and Microalgae culture. We would be happy to trade for these. I am sending you our exchange offer.’

  Bara picked up a palm pad and read through the offered goods. ‘Have you ever tried a pineapple?’ she asked Captain Beric.

  The captain tutted.

  ‘What’s a pineapple?’ Galen asked.

  ‘I’ll bring you one back,’ Bara replied as she selected a number of items from the list. It didn’t really matter what she picked, the trade was irrelevant. The important part was the contact, a first step on the road to friendship.

  She activated the com. ‘Thank you, Regional Director Gilani, but the offer is unacceptable.’

  ‘Unacceptable?’

  ‘You have undervalued our supplies by a third. I am sending you our counter-offer now.’

  She cut the com and folded her arms, realizing she was enjoying this.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Beric asked.

  ‘They won’t respect us if we’re cheap.’

  They waited again, then Gilani’s melodic voice filled the flight deck once more. ‘Thank you, Bara, but your request is excessive. We cannot possibly agree a trade at that cost.’

  ‘Okay,’ Bara said cheerily. ‘Thanks for your time. Good luck with those engines.’

  She cut the com, grinning. ‘Get us turning again,’ she said to Beric. ‘Nice and slow.’

  ‘Arkship Benwick,’ Gilani called. ‘Hold your position. A deal can still be done. I am sending you a new proposal.’

  Bara glanced at the data feed and smiled. The new trade offer – with marginally better terms – stipulated a single shuttle transfer with an engineering team on board, plus her. ‘Thank you, Gilani, the House of Dulac appreciates doing business with you. I’ll be in touch when we’re ready to transfer.’

  VORTEX

  Otto slept for much of the trip. When he was awake, he ate, consuming far more than was required for someone of his age and build. His appetite seemed unappeasable, and Gofal realized that this was Otto’s first time away from his mother. She had been the tempering force in his life. Now, out here in the space close to the Infinite, Otto could do whatever he wanted, eat as much as he liked, sleep when he decided. He was untidy to the point of distraction, leaving discarded food, plates and clothes where he dropped them. Gofal studied all this with interest, letting Otto have free reign, keen to see if he might establish new boundaries for himself. As Otto entered the flight deck of their little home, shirtless and unwashed, Gofal began to wonder if boundaries were the last thing on the man’s mind.

  ‘We should name our ship,’ Otto said, yawning.

  ‘It already has a designation,’ Gofal responded.

  ‘Numbers?’ Otto said dismissively. ‘No, I mean a proper name, something with a sense of adventure!’

  Gofal thought for a second and replied. ‘The HMS Adventure was an eightieth century sailing ship, the first vessel to circumnavigate the Earth from west to east. She sailed with Captain James Cook to–’

  ‘The Adventure!’ Otto interrupted. ‘That’s perfect, Gofal.’

  ‘Very well, the Adventure.’

  Otto smiled, satisfied, but he soon drifted into silent thought, and his features settled on a sad expression. ‘Any word from Traum?’ he asked.

  ‘Still missing your mother?’ Gofal replied.

  ‘Just wondered, that’s all.’ Otto said defensively. ‘I sent Adele a message earlier. I thought she would have replied my now.’

  ‘Not yet. Would you like me to contact your mother to check if the message was received?’

  ‘No . . . no, it’s fine,’ Otto said, seeming far away. He shook his head, as if he was casting his thoughts aside. ‘Getting close now,’ he said, squinting at the colorful view. He tapped Gofal on the shoulder, as was his habit in recent days.

  ‘We’re twenty-two million kilometers from the Infinite,’ Gofal noted. ‘What do you think of it?’

  ‘It’s bright,’ Otto noted, picking up a half-empty bottle of water he’d left on the console three days ago. He emptied it, gasping as he finished, then threw the bottle to the floor.

  ‘The window is filtering the view. The brightness is much reduced to avoid damage to your eyes.’

  ‘Really?’ Otto said, dropping into the empty chair. ‘Can we go closer?’

  ‘I wouldn’t recommend it,’ Gofal cautioned.

  ‘Why not? Scared?’

  ‘No. The Adventure would struggle to combat the increased gravitational eddies closer to the heart of the Infinite. I would not like to see you torn apart and crushed in the vacuum of space.’

  Otto laughed. ‘No, me neither. So now what?’

  Gofal turned to stare at him. ‘Coming here was your idea.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Otto leaned forward, propping his elbows on the console as he stared at the shifting light of the Infinite. ‘It’s hypnotic, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, I think it’s very beautiful.’

  ‘I wonder what it was like, before the Fracture.’

  Gofal accessed the console and a holograph flickered to life, obscuring the view out of the windows. A golden orb turned slowly in front of them, its surface churning gently. ‘That is the Sun, before the Fracture tore it apart.’

  ‘I’ve seen images of it before, Gofal. But what was it like? To actually see it for real. To feel it on your skin!’

  ‘I don’t know. No one knows.’

  ‘It’d be weird,’ Otto said distantly. He stared at the image, then looked past it to the windows.

  Gofal deactivated the holograph and they both wallowed in the view of the Infinite.

  ‘Did the captain who wrote the journal come here?’ Otto asked quietly.

  Gofal shook his head. ‘The Haven left Earth just before the Fracture. It’s flight path took it towards the Sun, then out towards the edge of the solar system.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Most ships u
sed fuel scoops back then. The region around the Sun is a perfect place to refuel.’

  ‘Show me,’ Otto demanded.

  Gofal obliged, reactivating the holograph to display the flightpath of the arkship Haven.

  ‘That’s Earth, isn’t it?’ Otto checked, pointing to the blue glowing orb.

  ‘Yes. The Haven left Earth orbit, circled the planet, then made for the inner solar system. This was before Cube transit was perfected, so the journey would have been undertaken using conventional engines.’ He pointed to a curved line that indicated the flightpath of the Haven.

  ‘What’s it doing there?’ Otto asked, looking at the kink in the line close to the Sun.

  ‘That’s where it stopped for some time.’

  ‘Close to the Sun?’

  ‘Yes. I believe there was a station there before the Fracture. The Haven must have docked for a while, then continued outwards, ahead of the Fracture expansion wave.’

  Otto’s face lit up. ‘Let’s go there!’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘To the station.’

  ‘It’s no longer there.’

  ‘I know that!’ Otto said impatiently. ‘But let’s go anyway. Let’s follow the Haven’s route.’

  ‘Why?’ Gofal asked, unable to grasp Otto’s logic.

  Otto simply shrugged, grinning.

  ‘Very well,’ Gofal said, happy to indulge his companion. He calculated the coordinates, adjusting for two hundred and thirty-six years of stellar drift, and plotted their new destination. The ship responded, accelerating towards their destination.

  ‘What will we do when we get there?’ Gofal asked as the ship grew faster.

  ‘Hell, I don’t know, Gofal. Have you never just explored?’

  ‘This area is well-mapped. There is nothing new to explore.’

  Otto shook his head. ‘You don’t get it. Just because someone else has already been here, it doesn’t mean there’s nothing new to find. You’re thinking too literally. You like art, don’t you?’

  ‘You know I do. We have discussed it on many occasions.’

  ‘Exactly!’ Otto said with a snap of his fingers. ‘So, think like an artist! Look at something in a new way. See something that no one else has ever seen before.’

  Gofal nodded, understanding Otto’s desire for discovery. This adventure wasn’t about facts and figures to him, it was going somewhere for himself, seeing it firsthand. That still resonated with humans.

  Otto scrolled through the inventory of music on his pad, choosing a piece of Tracker music. The Tracker craze had all but died out now, but Otto seemed to still enjoy it. The song relied heavily on a fast base beat under sampled clips of orchestral music. It was not unpleasant to Gofal’s ear, but it wouldn’t have been his first choice of music to accompany their journey. Otto forced the volume up to its highest level, making conversation impossible. The console vibrated with the lower tones, a persistent throbbing that marked the passing of time. Otto quickly fell asleep, despite the deafening noise, leaving Gofal to contemplate the structure of the song.

  The ship began to slow. Gofal ended the music and tapped Otto on the shoulder, rousing him from his impromptu rest. ‘We are here,’ Gofal said.

  Otto rubbed his face, stretched, then stared out of the window. ‘This is the place? This was where the Haven came to?’

  Gofal checked the console. ‘Yes, this is . . .’ He stopped talking, focusing on the new data streaming into the ship’s sensors.

  Otto turned from the windows. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘This . . . this region of space. It’s . . . torn.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘A . . . four dimensional . . . vortex.’ Gofal’s voice began to slur. ‘I’m sorry . . . my mind is . . . Move us away . . . at once!’ He felt his higher functions begin to collapse. The pain was unbearable. He wanted to scream but his voice no longer worked. Otto rushed to his side, talking to him, but Gofal couldn’t understand words any more. It was just a meaningless series of vibrations passing through the air.

  His vision blurred, then broke apart, and Gofal stopped.

  Just stopped.

  WEAK POINT

  Valine’s shuttle rested on the hanger deck of the Caerleon, its engines idling ready to depart. She had landed just ten minutes earlier, but Valine didn’t want to stay a minute longer than was necessary. She didn’t believe Halstead’s story about conducting engine tests. He was waiting for the Haukr to move away so that he could carry out his true purpose. The sooner Valine left, the sooner Halstead’s true intentions would reveal themselves. As she waited, she reviewed her file on Chief Constable Lucas Fabien. It made for a very dry read.

  Valine made a point of keeping up-to-date files on key personnel, looking for areas of weakness, things she could exploit. Until now, Fabien hadn’t featured in her schemes. She was aware of him, but he had seemed to be of little value to her. Now, with him heading up an investigation that could lead back to her, she was keen to rectify that oversight.

  Constable Fabien was forty-two, single, no dependents. Family was always an easy weak spot, yet Fabien had none, except for a brother on the arkship Tanis. They had not spoken for years, not since the death of their mother, and Valine doubted there would be much there to exploit. A single man still had weaknesses though, it was just a matter of finding them. She scanned his financial records, looking for unusual activity, finding none. Next, she cross-referenced his details with fleet-wide groups, dating feeds, gambling sites, and found nothing except for an interest in constructing scale models of fleet ships. Hell, this man was boring! She couldn’t find a weak point to exploit. Luckily, she also had his medical file . . .

  She turned to Reader Aditsan’s file instead and smiled. Here was an easier target, a man with many weak points, a man who could be of great use to her. She memorized the information she would need, then she put down the pad and walked to the bathroom to wash her hands. Next to the sink was the small phial she had made. Valine popped the lid open and poured a few drops of the clear liquid onto her hands, rubbing it in. Then, she waited, checking herself in the mirror. The Reader would be here soon.

  The door chimed and Valine smiled to her reflection.

  ‘Enter,’ she said, walking to meet him at the opening door.

  ‘May the blessings of the Infinite Gods be upon you,’ Aditsan said, his stony face hardly moving.

  Valine kissed the ring on his finger, her hands touching his, then she gestured for him to sit.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ he asked impatiently.

  ‘I have spoken to the Scribe,’ Valine replied, watching his reaction. ‘He agrees that I should take command in the event of a crisis of faith.’

  The Reader struggled to reply, his features betraying his surprise. ‘He has not spoken to me of this.’

  ‘That is why I brought you here. It is important that you are informed. We don’t want any misunderstandings. This is not a coup, Reader, just a necessary precaution brought about by recent events.’

  ‘Recent events?’

  ‘The prince seems uncertain where his loyalties lie. We are at a crucial phase and, if our allegiance with the Church is to be ratified, then we must be ready to act to support the Scribe. If the prince chooses not to carry out the Act of Devotion, then we – you and I – must work together to ensure that it takes place.’

  ‘I . . .’ Reader Aditsan flustered, his thoughts obviously in chaos.

  ‘Your purpose is clear,’ Valine insisted, taking him by the shoulders and fixing her eyes on his. ‘You must carry out the will of the Church.’

  ‘Yes, of course, but I’ve known Halstead for years. He’s a friend.’

  ‘He is my friend too. Hopefully we can help to guide him to the correct decision, but if we cannot, then our first allegiance is to the Church. That loyalty overrides friendship to the prince or loyalty to the House of Kenric, don’t you agree?’

  ‘Yes . . . yes, of course,’ Aditsan replied, his
voice uncertain.

  ‘The Scribe is counting on you, Elan. He believes in you. I would not like to challenge his belief, would you?’

  ‘No . . . no, but there must be another way.’

  ‘I pray there is, but the prince’s faith has weakened, hasn’t it? How often do we see him at your sermons?’

  Aditsan didn’t reply, but Valine saw that this had hit a nerve.

  ‘And the attempt on the Scribe’s life . . . Constable Fabien has struggled to make headway. The investigation should be a priority for the prince, yet he seems preoccupied by other matters.’

  ‘I don’t know . . .’ Aditsan mused.

  ‘Go speak to Fabien, see what he has to say,’ she suggested, hoping it sounded like a casual thought.

  The Reader nodded solemnly. She had him, Valine thought.

  Valine stood, surprising her guest. ‘Thank you for your time, Reader. I have many things to attend to, as I’m sure do you.’

  Aditsan stood slowly. ‘Yes. Thank you for letting me know.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll want to speak to the Scribe about this,’ Valine said, adding as an afterthought: ‘He’ll be keen for an update on the bomb investigation.’

  ‘Yes,’ Aditsan said more firmly.

  She led him to the door then drew him closer. ‘While I have you here . . . There was a complaint from a woman on the Caerleon . . . a dancer who calls herself Shakti.’

  The blood drained from Aditsan’s face.

  Valine gripped his arm to reassure him. ‘Don’t worry, the complaint was obviously unfounded. I have dealt with it. You needn’t worry, but perhaps a little more discretion might be advised?’

  Aditsan swallowed, his eyes wide with terror.

  ‘Lovely, as ever, Elan. Infinite blessings.’ Valine smiled, releasing him.

  Reader Aditsan stepped through the open door, his mouth open. He nodded weakly, then turned to leave the shuttle.

  Valine returned to the bathroom and scrubbed her hands clean, then she stabbed at her com device, opening a new link to shuttle’s cockpit flight deck. ‘Get us out of here,’ she ordered.