“Is he dead?”
“No. Pity—Wotal had some successes as a commodore, then they all went away.”
“Coincident with Commander Atir and I deserting his command, My Lord. He was as quick to take my tactical advice as he was to forget its source.”
“Are you saying Wotal victimized you, Yidan?” asked Kyan with a thin smile.
“Inspired me, Your Grace. I knew I’d be better on my own than serving toads.”
“I appreciate your candor, Admiral. As to Red 7—those corsairs are turning that big cube of space into a pirates’ nest. Next they’ll be raiding planets.”
“It’s unlike corsairs to attack large forces.”
“Unless they’re carving out a kingdom? We’re wondering if it’s really corsairs. It’s wild out there—could be biofabs, rouge AIs, some half-forgotten horror. We’re still very weak—when feral things scent weakness, they slip out from under their rocks to feed.
“But if it is corsairs, they’re ambitious. If you weren’t standing here, Yidan, I’d think the infamous corsair Kotran behind it. Find out what it is and clean it up. All eyes are on their new emperor and this is my first challenge—watching to see if I can pull us back from the brink of anarchy. This is my first test.”
“Consider your test passed, My Liege.”
“How’d it go?” Atir asked when he got home to their big house on Admiralty Row.
“As expected,” he smiled, kissing her and patting her growing belly.
Hangar deck was, in fact, deserted. Kiroda and Lawrona’s shuttle sat just beyond Flight control. Its access ramp swung down as Kiroda keyed the security code, Lawrona standing ready, pistol trained on the entrance. They entered the little ship, stepping into the passenger cabin.
Former Fleet Security Colonel Aynal sat waiting for them, smiling. “You’re early,” he said. “Didn’t expect you until tomorrow.” He wasn’t armed—he didn’t need to be.
“Trying to escape?” asked Lawrona.
“Oh, I will escape, Captain,” said the AI. “You’ll get clearance and depart for Utria now rather than tomorrow.”
“We’re expected elsewhere,” said Kiroda.
“The commodore’s little dinner.” He smiled at their surprised looks. “I was Fleet Security—I’ve been monitoring Implacable’s security feeds. Including your conversation just now on the bridge. The implications are startling! If only I’d known when we first met we could have blackmailed you, My Lord Margrave.” He looked at their faces. “No, probably not. Well, doesn’t matter now. Fly me out of here.”
“You’ll kill us as soon as we jump,” said Lawrona.
“Of course, but you’ll get to live a little longer. Surely it’s worth it?”
“You’re pathetic,” said Kiroda. “You’re arrogant–smart in a stupid way and the personification of why your race failed. You misjudge everything and call it wisdom. You don’t grow.”
“How can perfection be improved?”
“Do you feel any emotion, Aynal? Passion, hate, love, remorse?” asked Lawrona.
“I feel. And what I feel for humanity is hatred,” said the combat droid. “Love is a weakness to which your species is prey—it makes you vulnerable and easily controlled. Passion’s what I feel when I kill one of you—it feels good. Now lift ship, Lawrona, or I’ll kill your boyfriend.”
“It’s love that kills you, Aynal,” said Kiroda.
“You humans are crazy,” sneered the AI, eyes flaring red.
“Thank you,” said Kiroda, wagging a finger at Aynal, sending a yellow bolt of energy into the stunned AI, continuing to blast away much of his surprised face and chest, leaving him a riddled corpse.
“A hard lesson to learn—I doubt he understood,” said Grand Admiral Laguan. Startled, Kiroda and Lawrona turned to see Laguan and Detrelna standing in the entry portal.
A few seconds later. No one has moved.
“Going to shoot us, too, Commander?” asked Laguan.
“Of course not, sir,” said Kiroda, arms at his side.
“Security sensors will have picked up the blaster fire,” said Detrelna.
“It’s not quite blaster fire, sir,” said Kiroda.
“The distinction will have escaped the sensors. Commandos aren’t onboard, but they’ll be en route. We’ve a few moments to agree on what happened here.”
“Clearly,” said Laguan, “two of our most decorate officers’ personal lives are beyond reproach, one of them is not an AI and the Margrave of Utria is sadly nothing but the passionless wooden soldier so many know him to be. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” said Detrelna.
“Yes, sir,” said Kiroda.
“Yes, Father,” said Lawrona.
“How long have you known, Hanar?” sighed Laguan as Kiroda and Detrelna stood mute.
“Mother told me before she died. I’m sorry you never felt the need to tell me, sir.”
“Your mother begged me not to. Our feelings were irrelevant—we were protecting you. Illegitimacy would strip you of your titles, Hanar. The Council of Peers can always demand a paternity test. You’d fail. I told no one. And of course, old secrets are hardest told.”
“That’s my mother’s ghost talking through you, Father. I never wanted to be margrave. I wanted a childhood, friends, parents! How long did you two condemn the three of us to misery out my mother’s misplaced pride and ambition?”
“Thirty-two long years,” sighed Laguan.
“I’d rather be your bastard than his son.”
“You are my son. He was the bastard.”
“Excuse me,” said Detrelna, monitoring the commnet. “Commandos are on board. Many more follow—Aynal’s hacking of the security web’s been detected and traced. Prime Base is on full alert. And you,” he said to Kiroda, “I knew about. You were one of Ragal’s Watchers.”
“He told you that?”
“Before Terra Two. If he was killed, he didn’t want you hunted down as the enemy. Are you a combat droid?”
“I’m not an AI. I’m a Talag,” said Tolei proudly.
“Of course,” said Detrelna. “It’s the only reasonable explanation.”
“But the Talag are extinct,” said Laguan. “They were the machine race exterminated by Emperor Syal over 15,000 years ago.”
“Do I look extinct, Grand Admiral? And we were never exactly machines. We hid, we survived and we evolved. We not only look like you, in many ways we are you, though as you saw we can channel Tau energy.” He pointed at Aynal’s corpse, everyone flinching as his finger moved. “We detected the AI infiltrators and supported Colonel Ragal against the Scotar and Combine Telan. We’ve been here much longer than any of the invading AIs. Ragal found us helpful and kept our secret. We fought at your side, sir, and some of our lives became entangled with some of yours.”
“One thing leading to another,” added Lawrona.
“There are several short words for your particular entanglement, gentlemen,” said Detrelna. “Words with very different connotations. You know Fleet Regs don’t prohibit your relationship.”
“Never mind regulations,” said Lawrona. “As Hereditary Lord Captain, I’m our people’s iconic warrior-leader. And as I plan on being politically active …” Hanar cocked his head at the sound of boots on battlesteel drawing close. “They’re here.”
Commandos appeared, weapons leveled. Taking in the strange scene, they lowered their weapons. “Major Itan,” said Laguan, recognizing one of them. “We meet again. I was relieved to learn you survived. I’ll never forget your help at the Tower. I signed your promotion today, honors to follow. Congratulations, Colonel Itan.”
“Thank you, sir,” bowed the colonel, obviously touched. “So he’s dead,” he said, looking at Aynal’s body. “That was easy.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you’d been here,” said Tolei.
“He tried to kidnap Captain Lawrona and escape,” said Laguan. “Lawrona killed him.”
“How, sir?” asked the colonel. “He’s an AI comb
at droid.”
“The margrave’s weapon is of the old Imperial Guard. To everyone’s surprise, it can take out a combat droid. Had we known that earlier, we’d have tried to clone it.”
“We still should. So, all is as it seems, sir,” said Itan, eyes shifting speculatively between the corpse and Lawrona. “With your permission, Grand Admiral, we’ll withdraw.”
“‘All is as it seems,’” said Detrelna after the commandos were gone.
“What can he say?” said Lawrona. “Nothing’s as it seems and only believable as fiction.”
“Itan’s not a credulous moron,” said Laguan. “He could have required you to surrender your weapon for verification, Hanar. That he didn’t speaks well of him, or at least of his political sensitivity. I came here to see you. Can we continue this later?”
Lawrona nodded curtly. “After dinner?”
“Certainly. At my home? You’re home, too. I’ve some things of your mother’s I’d like to share with you.”
“Thank you. After she died, he purged the house of her.”
“His house but not our hearts. I’m sorry, Hanar. I’ll spend the rest of life my trying to make it up to you, if you let me.”
“Perhaps. Do you understand my anger?”
“I do. I loved your mother very much, Hanar.”
“So did I. That’s why we’re still talking.”
Detrelna broke the silence. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner, Admiral.”
“No, thank you, Jaquel. It’s your farewell dinner for your shipmates. Hanar and I will talk later. Let’s all get out of here. Oh, and Tolei? The Talag were said to be as immortal as the AIs. These winter-spring romances always end with one partner standing beside the other’s grave. Are you prepared for that?”
“No. I’m now as mortal as Hanar. There’s no changing that—it only seemed fair.”
“You’re a better man than I am—I don’t know if I could have made that sacrifice. Welcome to our little family, Tolei,” said Laguan, hugging him. “Well, son?” he asked Hanar. Tight-lipped, Hanar embraced him.
Kyan and Satil, Lawrona and Kiroda, happiness at war’s end and promising new beginnings, thought Detrelna, his the only dry eyes on the shuttle. Wonder who’ll have the first baby? “Perhaps you’d care to join me for wine and brandy, gentlemen? It’s been a day. My quarters? Do you really enjoy drinking, Tolei?”
“Your pleasures are my pleasures,” said Kiroda. Detrelna snorted and led them from the shuttle.
“Is Guan-Sharick really gone?” asked John. “Truly, truly gone?” He pushed back his dessert plate, which had held what Tolei described as “The last parinberry tarts on Kronar.” A pleasant surprise, they tasted like raspberries.
“Who knows? She could be one of us,” said Zahava.
“No. She masqueraded as Qinil for a long time and Qinil hated parinberries,” said Detrelna.
“We’ll miss your quick wit, Jaquel,” said Lawrona. “Come visit us on Utria.”
“It doesn’t sound like a happy place,” said the commodore.
“Even better reason to visit friends,” said Tolei.
Detrelna poured more wine all around. “A fitting selection, Hanar—thank you. The gallant Professor McShane’s favorite alien wine,” he added, setting down a second empty bottle of California cabernet. “Guan-Sharick was weary, she atoned—by her standards—and is gone. We complain of ten years of war. Her’s was infinitely longer. And to have lived so long with so much guilt. But she wasn’t the last of her kind. Lan-Asal’s on Dalin, helping the Dalinians recover from Combine Telan’s occupation.”
“No, Jaquel,” said Lawrona. “He vanished when Guan-Sharick did. The report came in today. The Dalinians are bereft.”
“I’m not,” said the commodore. “They were like our gods of prehistory—omnipotent, driven by passion.”
“Passion?” said Kiroda.
“All we’ve been through—death, misery, betrayal, one unfolding horror unleashing another—was at its heart driven by the passion of two people. They probably thought of it as love, which it was when it began.”
“Once upon a time, on a planet far, far away,” continued Detrelna, “there were two brilliant young scientists, much in love and happy in their work. They had a child who brought them joy. One day war ravaged their home. The child died. The rest of their lives—and they lived a very long time—they dedicated to revenging their son, destroying his killers and protecting others from them, no matter the price. They were as ruthless as they were powerful and they made mistakes. But they mostly succeed, though their vendetta spanned a million years and the cost was awesome. Despite the ruination they wrought, we owe them reluctant thanks for saving us from our ancient enemy and giving us and the AIs a future freed from the hatreds of the past.”
“And the basis of this fairy tale?” asked Hanar.
“An image of a happy family seen briefly on an embattled hangar deck.” He raised his glass. “To Guan-Sharick and Lan-Asal and their son—may they have found peace.”
All but the captain joined him in the toast. “I’m not as forgiving as you, Jaquel.”
“You need practice,” said the commodore.
“I’ll help him,” said Tolei. “We Talag have forgiven much.”
“Perhaps you’d like to demonstrate that with complete honesty, Tolei, you and Hanar? Before we go our separate ways?”
They exchanged puzzled glances. “How so, sir?” asked Tolei.
“Ragal told me the Talag were designed by AIs like himself—AIs who’d fought beside humans during the Revolt. They deeply wanted a race drawn from themselves, yet one that could bridge the gap between man and AI. So they created the Talag, with guarantees of safety from the Imperium—a promise kept until Emperor Syal learned the Talags’ secret and came for them. Care to share with your friends, Tolei?”
The Talag looked at Hanar. “It’s up to you, Tolei,” he said, squeezing his friend’s hand. “I’m with you whatever you do. Always.”
“There’s someone you should meet,” said Tolei. “Excuse me.” He left the dining room, the door to Detrelna’s quarters hissing shut behind him.
“This is very hard on him,” said Hanar. “Be welcoming.”
“I thought we had been?” said John.
“No. You’ve been tolerant and accepting. This requires more.”
“We’re not the only ones left on the ship?” asked Zahava after a few moments, eyes on the door.
“We are,” said Detrelna.
The door entry chimed. The Terrans exchanged looks.
“Come,” called Detrelna as they all rose, three of them expectant, the other concerned.
The lissome ash blonde walked with Tolei’s easy grace to the table and stared back at them. “Well?” she asked in almost his voice, ending their disbelief.
“Oh my,” said Zahava. “I was prepared for anything but this.”
“Nothing’s ever simple with you people,” said John, bemused. “You’re very attractive, Commander. What do we call you, please?”
“Tolei,” said Tolei, resuming her seat. “Who drank my wine?”
“You shouldn’t be drinking, dear,” said the captain disapprovingly.
“On this very special occasion? Don’t be your old stiff self, Hanar.”
“Only for you.”
“You’re a transmorph,” said Detrelna. “No wonder Syal went after your people—he was totally paranoid.”
“We’re can be either male or female, as the occasion suits. But not as Syal believed, become anyone we wish. All we wanted from his crazy kingdom in the stars was to be left in peace—even that was too much. There are times we’re limited to being one sex—I’ll soon be unable to be my male self for a bit.”
“Being pregnant,” added Zahava.
“How did you know?” she grinned.
“The usual little signs we girls pick up on that men miss, dear.”
“They are insensitive louts, aren’t they?” said Tolei, helping herself to
half of her mate’s wine. “I don’t know why we put up with them.”
“How far along are you?” asked John, still recovering. Of all the wonders they’d seen since first boarding Implacable so long ago, this was the greatest.
“Only a few weeks. But with our faster gestation period, our son will be born before Kotran and Atir’s baby.”
“A child of light and a child of darkness,” said Detrelna. “Congratulations, both of you. How will you explain to your father, Hanar, or to your people on Utria?”
“As we saw, Jaquel, my father’s good-hearted and open-minded—a grandchild will be his delight. As for explaining this on Utria, I won’t have to—the margrave returns from war with his beautiful, mysterious bride who’s delivered of their child on his secluded ancestral estate. Huzzah!” he toasted.
“Huzzah!” they echoed, raising their glasses, quickly refilled by the commodore.
“Does the bride’s brother live with the family?” asked Detrelna.
“I do,” said Tolei. “Though I’m reclusive, avoidant—rumors of war trauma.”
“Are there many of you?” asked John.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “After our holocaust under Syal, we broke into survival cells with limited interaction—no one can betray all. Interbreeding’s easy to slip into, as you can see—it’s as if biology and survival dictate we fade away even as we spread our genes.”
“Thus inserting your AI-descended genes into ours,” said Detrelna. “‘The AIs, though conquered, conquer from within,’” he intoned with dark melodrama. “There’s room in the future of our reborn galactic nation for all. And welcome.”
“We’ve been here almost as long as you,” Tolei noted delicately.
“Room even for Satur and his comrades?” asked Zahava. “What place do the Imperial Biofabs have in your future?”
“It’s your future, too,” reminded Detrelna. “We’ll see if faith and trust on both sides continues. Kyan will honor his word. We’re all biofabs, given that the same emotions drive us all.”
“‘And the elements So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up, And say to all the world, this was a man,’” quoted John.
Final Assault Page 25
