The Sentients of Orion

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The Sentients of Orion Page 117

by Marianne de Pierres


  Janne nodded.

  Both women were bright in a way that brought a bitter taste to Thales’s mouth, but he set his jaw and swallowed. His idea had brought them here.

  Fariss’s large hand descended on his shoulder. ‘You stay behind Janne and the Feohte with Magdalen and Linnea. Got it? Sammy might be inside there—don’t let any of the Feohte shoot her.’

  ‘Fariss?’ He wanted to thank her for this—it was his world not hers—but the words dried up in his mouth.

  She didn’t wait for him to free his tongue. Slipping her weapon into her belt, she sauntered straight out into the IN corridor.

  Janne and the Feohte crouched closer to the bend. Thales couldn’t see past them, or hear anything until the first shout. Then suddenly the Feohte were gone, a dozen women swarming up the passage.

  Magdalen put a restraining hand on him. ‘We’ll just give them more to worry about. When the hatch is clear, we go.’

  Thales waited in an agony of dread while Linnea crept forward and peered after the Feohte. A moment later she flattened herself back against the wall. Instinctively Thales did the same but Magdalen was slower to react.

  The station sec guards bolted past them, one of them colliding with the slight woman, knocking her against the rough conduit. The guard picked himself up and kept running but Magdalen lay still.

  Linnea went to her and felt over her head. ‘She’s out.’

  ‘Can you get her back to Ling-Ma’s ship by yourself?’ asked Thales.

  Linnea nodded. ‘Should do. She weighs less than a bag of beans. Now, remember that the common wall is the one behind the node. You cut through the wrong one and you’ll be floating—permanently.’

  Thales gave a grim nod. ‘May Villon protect you, Linnea.’

  She gave him a strange look. ‘That’s what Mira Fedor said too.’

  * * *

  He watched the brawny woman lift Magdalen into her arms and leave. When she’d gone he walked into the IN passage.

  Farris was crouched at the hatch. A mess of tangled bodies lay before her on the floor, throats cut. Most of the dead were Farr’s mercs but not all. Two Feohtes were being shifted aside from the mercs and covered out of respect.

  As Thales drew closer he saw the surviving Feohte sheathing curved bloody swords in their belts alongside their soft-projectile guns. He wanted to force his way past them to Fariss’s side and touch her for reassurance, but he wouldn’t get that chance again, not until this was over.

  She glanced over her shoulder and saw him. A quick frown creased her blood-dirtied face. ‘Where are they?’

  ‘Magdalen was knocked out by a station guard. Linnea’s taking her back to Ling-Ma.’

  She pressed her lips together, unimpressed. ‘Janne, you got that cutting gear? Could get messy in here, depending on how many Lasper’s got with him. I’m bettin’ on not too many.’

  Janne tossed her the sack. ‘Sounds like a good bet.’

  BALBAO

  Balbao didn’t register the intruders at first. He was deep in a sea of virtual images: Lorenz attractors, Tangent and Rossler maps and Listovich equations, the elegance and mystery of which had transported him far from the fraught IN chamber. Ra had shown him things he’d never dreamed to know, reconstructing a chaotic beauty and symmetry from an ancient humanesque theorem.

  We’ve had the key to read our futures all this time, said virtual Balbao. But we’ve not known which way to turn it.

  Frustrating and amusing, said virtual Ra.

  And now?

  And now to perturb the stability of the system.

  Virtual Ra flew at the ocean of fractals with fierce active hands. As he worked, their symmetries faltered and began to change, so that they became a chain of staggered links. Ra stabbed at the breaks in their flow, prising them apart. Then he began picking at them like a carrion bird, searching through them for... what?

  Aaah. There. Virtual Ra disappeared, funnelling down into the break in the fractal like water draining through a low point.

  Virtual Balbao felt the pull as well, the attraction of the break that Ra had manufactured. His perspective began to alter, the diagrammatic vanished and he found his mind-self immersed in a spinning well of images—fleeting, overwhelming rushes of information that Balbao couldn’t possibly process.

  Ra was ahead of him diving in and out of information accumulations, ripping and tearing and flinging segments about.

  What in Crux is he searching for? Balbao fretted. What is he doing?

  That’s when he heard the fracas.

  He ripped the pad from his neck and blinked into a nightmare: gunfire and screams as plain-garbed women—insurgents of some kind—swarmed over Farr’s soldiers with scimitars and soft-projectile guns. The soldiers replied with their own weapons.

  The coralled technicians dropped to the floor on instinct, spreading out in all directions, and over against the far wall a large figure was crouched over a glowing cutting tool. Another woman, not quite as big but with equal purpose about her, held anyone who might interfere with the cutting at bay with her gun.

  ‘Stop them!’ Farr screamed at Petalu Mau.

  Mau moved across the IN towards the two women.

  The armed one cocked her weapon.

  ‘Stay back!’ she yelled.

  ‘Petalu Mau. It’s Thales, Bethany’s friend. We have to close the shift sphere; otherwise the Post-Species will annihilate the planet.’ This shrill shout came from the hatchway of the IN where a lean young ‘esque stood.

  Balbao knew the face, the scar and the fine features, the cultured voice; this ‘esque had spoken at the summit meeting on Intel station.

  Mau stopped, momentarily confused.

  ‘Thales Berniere. What in—’ Lasper Farr didn’t bother to finish. He snatched a gun from one of his soldiers and fired across the room. It took the armed woman in the shoulder and she went down.

  ‘Janne!’ Thales Berniere started into the IN.

  At the same time Balbao became aware of Ra. The Godhead had removed his pads and was standing, fists clenched.

  Balbao rose automatically. ‘What?’

  ‘It’s him,’ muttered Ra. ‘He’s the disruption.’

  ‘Who? What do you mean?’

  But Ra moved without answering, lunging towards Thales Berniere.

  His movement snapped Balbao from his daze and he made a quick and unalterable decision.

  ‘Petalu Mau!’ he roared in full Balol battle voice. ‘Sammy says the time is now! THE TIME IS NOW!’ The huge bodyguard jerked his head towards Balbao, who nodded vigourously. ‘I’ve been in the ship’s containment with her.’

  As the meaning of the message seeped in, Mau changed direction. He swung at Lasper Farr as the Commander raised his weapon to shoot the woman cutting through the wall. The teranu threw out a powerful jaw-breaking sideswipe that sent Farr down without a sound. He seized the scimitar from Janne’s bleeding hand and hacked into the Commander’s neck. Violent chopping motions splintered his backbone in a gush of blood.

  Balbao wrenched his horrified attention back to Ra. The Godhead was advancing on Thales Berniere. Though not much bigger or heavier than Thales, Ra had a burning intensity about him, a feverish unholy energy. He waved a knife with eager but inexpert hands.

  Thales stepped behind a workstation and stumbled over a body.

  ‘We’re in!’ roared the woman with the cutting tools. She kicked in the wall panel, calling the insurgents with her. Mau followed as well.

  The knot of technicians lying on the floor scrambled to their feet and ran for the hatch.

  Suddenly, only three people were left alive and on their feet in the IN: Thales, Ra and Balbao.

  ‘Ra!’ bellowed the Balol chief. ‘Stop!’

  THALES

  Lasper Farr is dead. The notion stunned Thales. As did the sight of the Commander’s savaged body.

  ‘We’re in!’ shouted Fariss.

  Her voice delivered Thales from his shock. He saw the Feohte and Mau fo
llow her through the wall panel, and the comm technicians rush for the hatch.

  Then he was alone with the dead and two ‘esques he’d never seen before: a Balol who stood behind his workstation as if rooted there and a Lostolian with strange multi-faceted eyes. The latter advanced on Thales with a knife in his hand.

  Thales backed towards the direction the technicians had fled, but the Lostolian cut him off from the hatch so he crouched down and looked around for something to defend himself. He spotted a gun partially covered by a body.

  ‘Ra!’ bellowed the Balol. ‘Stop!’

  Ra? The name meant something, but fear prevented him from being able to remember.

  ‘He’s the disruption. His death will be the repeller,’ hissed the Lostolian. He moved closer as he spoke, stopping just short of stabbing distance from Thales.

  ‘Him. Why is he important?’ said the Balol.

  ‘He’s not. It’s his connection to others. How his death will affect their actions.’

  ‘You’re being insane, Ra. You can’t possibly believe—’

  The Balol broke off as Thales grabbed the gun and raised it.

  With one tiny movement of his thumb, Thales knew he could end the Lostolian’s life, but he baulked.

  Thoughts cartwheeled through his mind, and emotions deluged his body. He felt as if the whole point of his existence hinged on what he did right now. He’d left Scolar as a naive young man who, for a time, deserted his Jainist principles. But now he’d returned, knowing much more of himself. He wished Villon was here to tell.

  Then, just as quickly as he’d become paralysed and confused, the right choice became clear. He would not kill anyone. Not even to defend his life.

  He threw the gun away and stared at Ra.

  The Lostolian, surprised by his action, hesitated.

  And as he did, the Balol made a choice of his own. He pushed aside the workstation and leapt forward. With nearly as much force as Petalu Mau had used on Lasper Farr, the Balol punched Ra in the back of the head.

  Ra fell.

  Thales watched the Balol dive forward, teeth bared and face contorted. Heaving his body at the Lostolian, the Balol impaled Ra with the spikes of his stiffened frill.

  Ra made one short gurgling sound of pain then fell still.

  Immediately, the Balol withdrew his frill and wiped the spikes clean on Ra’s robe. When he stood up again, his teeth were still bared but his face was composed.

  ‘He wanted to change the course of events,’ the Balol told him, as if Thales should understand.

  But Thales shook his head in bewilderment.

  The Balol gave a rough laugh. ‘My name is Balbao, formerly Chief Astronomein of Belle-Monde. That was Ra of Lostol, one of the tyros. The rest of it will take a while in the telling.’

  ‘Thales!’

  Fariss was back, covered in blood. ‘It’s done!’ Her eyes narrowed and she looked between him and the Balol.

  ‘What’s done?’ asked Balbao.

  Thales stared at Balbao. ‘We’ve started the sequence to close the shift sphere. In a few days no one will be able to leave Scolar station.’

  ‘And now we have to get out of here,’ said Fariss with feeling. ‘Every red robe on the station is coming our way.’

  ‘Commander Farr’s ship is close,’ said Balbao.

  Fariss looked to Thales and nodded. ‘Let’s go.’

  TRIN

  They reached the beach before dawn when the darkness became a pearly grey. As Randall had predicted, two enormous biozoons were set deep in the wet sand of the shallows. The survivors waited in the treeline, watching as three figures emerged from inside one of the creatures. The three climbed down the roughened side of their craft and stepped into the shallows. One of them waded across to the other biozoon while the other two headed up onto the beach.

  Even from a distance Trin recognised the two approaching the shore: Randall’s man Josef had returned and—Trin’s heart contracted into a tight fist—Mira Fedor.

  ‘Mira,’ croaked Cass Mulravey. The woman broke from shelter and ran down to the beach, arms outstretched.

  ‘It’s Mira!’ This came from Djeserit, at his side.

  ‘Wait!’ said Trin.

  But, like Mulravey, Djes was already moving.

  Along the line of watchers, calls went out to each other.

  ‘The Baronessa is back.’

  ‘She’s come for us!’ cried Josefia Genarro.

  ‘It’s her! Mira Fedor is here!’

  Trin wanted them all to stop, wanted to take control, wanted to speak to Mira before anyone else, but their excitement wasn’t to be contained, even by him.

  They spilled down onto the beach, leaving Trin alone with the two mercenaries, Randall and Catchut.

  Both stared keenly at the new arrivals.

  ‘It’s Rasterovich, Capo,’ said Catchut.

  ‘I got eyes, Cat.’ Randall turned to Trin. ‘Don’t seem as thrilled as the rest, Pellegrini?’ Even in the dull light he could see her expression hardening. ‘Don’t you wanna be saved today? You maybe enjoyin’ this cock-o’-the-walk thing you got goin’ here.’

  Mira Fedor. His saviour? The idea was repugnant. He’d sent her away in the hope that she would find help from OLOSS. He had not expected she would come back herself. And where was the baby he’d impregnated her with? He saw no signs of pregnancy in her thin straight physique. Had she lost the babe? Miscarried it? Or had it removed? Eccentric as her morals were, surely she would not have aborted her own child.

  Panic streaked through him. He must speak with her alone before she said things that might damage the balance of things here, things that could undermine his authority.

  He started forward but Randall tripped him.

  He fell flat and a weight descended on his back, pinning him there. Thighs gripped his head, pushing his face into the sand. ‘Not so quick, Pellegrini. I’m thinkin’ your flock might need to have a confab with the Baronessa without you breathin’ down their necks.’

  Randall shifted around on top of him as if making herself comfortable. ‘We’ll just wait a little before we go and join them. Have a bit of a confab ourselves. What you say to that?’

  MIRA

  Mira saw Cass first, heard the hoarse call and recognised the thin ragged shape running down to meet them. Her heart leapt in her chest and she let go of Josef’s hand to wade out of the water.

  They met in the sand above the water line in a tight and emotional embrace. No words came immediately, just relief and heartfelt joy.

  ‘He said you’d run out on us. I knew it was a lie,’ whispered Cass after a moment.

  Mira stiffened for an instant. ‘Trinder?’

  Cass stepped back so she could look at her. ‘We need to talk, you and I, alone. But not now. Not in front of the rest.’

  Mira nodded. ‘There’s not much time. I have to go soon. We’ll leave one of the biozoons for you.’

  ‘Go?’

  ‘Something important I have to do. Cass, the Post-Species are controlling the Saqr. And now they’re overrunning Orion.’

  ‘We feared something like that,’ said Cass. ‘Mira, if you have to leave, take Vito.’

  Mira gripped her arm. ‘Vito’s alive?’

  Cass nodded, tears beginning to fall without check. ‘I fed him what I could, but we’ve had little enough to eat.’

  Mira faced the rest of the advancing survivors. She picked out Josefia Genarro among them, who carried a small thin ‘bino. ‘But Josef...’ Mira swung back to Josef, who had stopped behind her. ‘You said he’d died!’

  He looked confused. ‘I saw a boy killed with a spear. Happened as we got here.’

  Cass’s fist went to her lips. She ground her knuckles against her teeth before replying. ‘Not your ‘bino, Mira. Mine. Both gone now. Both of them.’

  ‘Chanee? And your ragazzo?’ Mira saw the pain on Cass’s face. She wasn’t just starved and exhausted, her spirit was in tatters.

  Mira hugged her again, more fie
rcely this time, not knowing how else to give comfort.

  They stood together as the survivors surrounded them. But at the sight of Josefia with Vito, Mira let her go of Cass and reached for her adopted child. She lifted him into her arms. To her distress, he didn’t feel much heavier than Nova. Nor did he seem to know her.

  ‘Vito.’

  He blinked his solemn eyes at the sound of her voice.

  She leaned forward and gently kissed his forehead, aware of the tension in the little body.

  He reached out for Cass Mulravey, who shook her head. ‘Mama, Vito. This is your mama.’

  The survivors watched silently.

  ‘Vito.’ Mira said his name again and traced her finger down his bare legs. ‘Mira. It’s Mira.’

  There was some jostling in the group and the korm pushed its way through. It whistled to her and bowed its tall frame, until its head was close to hers. ‘M’ra.’

  ‘Korm!’ The tears she had kept at bay while comforting Cass Mulravey sprang freely to her eyes. The alien ragazzo was a scarecrow, barely recognisable save for its size and fur.

  She reached up and fondled its crest. It chittered softly.

  Copying Mira’s action, Vito lifted his thin arm and put his fingers to Mira’s cheek.

  She turned her head and kissed his fingers, hardly daring to breathe.

  Suddenly Vito smiled and brought his other hand up to link around her neck. ‘M’ra.’

  Mira hugged him to her. ‘He’s speaking,’ she said ecstatically.

  ‘A few words only. Not much for us to say to each other these last months,’ said Cass.

  A ripple of emotion passed through the group.

  Mira felt it keenly, just as she felt her own elation, and relief, and despair. She should have been quicker with help. They were barely alive. And where was Trin Pellegrini?

  Before she could ask Cass about the young Principe, the silence broke.

  ‘What’s happening out there?’ asked someone.

  ‘Have you come for us?’ Another ‘esque.

 

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