Union of Souls (Gigaparsec Book 3)

by Scott Rhine

  “Bull.”

  “Okay. I keep my promises. I want you to do my induction.”

  “Because you love me?”

  “I don’t know you well enough to say that yet. I only know I can trust you, and I’ve been fighting my lust for you for weeks.” She seemed gratified by the admission. Reuben lowered his voice. “I’m choosing you because I know you loved Blythe, too, despite your competitive streak. You risked your life to save both of us. I’m going to use the mass-mind to avenge her. An insult to my companions is an insult to my species. I defend my people.”

  Fiona took the bag of food from his hand. “I’ll do anything you require the night of the funeral. What happens afterward depends entirely on how you treat me.” She inhaled the aroma of chicken. “This is a good start.”

  “Home, Troy,” Reuben ordered.

  Chapter 28 – Bargaining

  Mastering the data-interface chair in his bedroom, Reuben learned everything he could about Saurian combat. His foray into the Human military databases didn’t help much other than to give him the general type of craft his enemy flew and an estimate of forty-two males aboard. On the morning of the funeral, Kesh called during breakfast. Reuben and Fiona watched him on the wall unit as he expressed his condolences. “I regret that I cannot attend the funeral. Menelaus snuck down to the planet last night, and I can’t leave Solemnity unguarded.”

  “Your vigilance is always appreciated, friend,” Reuben said over his delicate tea set. “My only regret is that it’s taking me longer than anticipated to spend the profits you earned me.”

  “I noted your clumsy attempt at bribery to find out more about Vonir-class freighters.

  “The Blue Claws are camped by the nexus point to Goat space, weapons armed. Echo’s planned route takes us through their field of fire.”

  “You could have asked me for help.”

  Reuben glanced at Fiona, who nodded her approval. “I didn’t wish to put you in the position of choosing between friend and species. I couldn’t risk tarnishing your name.”

  Kesh growled. “What my people have neglected for too long is that a leader’s loins do not make his species great. Only the finest example of his actions and words remain standing after his death. All dross vanishes in the fires of history.”

  “You would fight against your own?” asked Fiona.

  “Against those who slaughter unarmed women, I shall be at the forefront,” Kesh declared. “However, my battle prowess will be less effective than my guile. I have warned the Yellow Slash Guard of our vendetta and hinted that if we can triumph quickly, I can ensure a minimum of casualties and a rapid end to hostilities. They leaked the ship’s specifications and duty logs to me.” He transmitted a 3-D model of the ship, complete with dots for crewmember locations during each shift.

  “Why would they do this?” asked Fiona.

  Reuben said, “Aside from currying favor with a new world leader? I served with them in special forces and helped restore the honor of the Phantom Cosmonauts.”

  Fiona snorted. “For two days, maybe.”

  “Not in front of company, baby.”

  “You said it was my job to keep you grounded.”

  Reuben sighed. “The Saurian government can’t afford to lose the Blue Claw Clan because of their independent financial structures as well as their natural resources. They might be willing to sacrifice a few idiots, though, for the sake of the race.”

  “You’re just one man,” Fiona said. “It’s not like you could bring down the entire clan.”

  “Xerxes brought down the Phibs, but limiting the objective to one ship is much easier,” Reuben said. “We’ll be able to see the missiles coming for hours, but our turrets will only be able to fire for the last couple minutes. We should train a second gunner and perhaps purchase antimissiles.”

  Kesh shook his head. “Antimissiles are too heavy and expensive for their success rate.”

  “Then I’ll plan the assault assuming we manage an in-system jump to the spot directly behind them.”

  “I shall inform the astrogator of your request,” Kesh said.

  ****

  During Blythe’s farewell procession, the partners turned off all communications devices. Reuben was struck first by the sheer number of Goat well-wishers and second by how poor they all were. At the grave, Reuben activated a media scrambler. Some moments should be private.

  He expected Menelaus to swear eternal enmity with the Blue Claw for their treachery, vowing to aid the team in any quest for retaliation. Perhaps this went without saying. Instead, he confessed to Blythe’s photo, “You made my exile from my people bearable. You touched everyone on our vessel. Your kindness transcended species. You will be missed. I will never dine again without remembering your face.”

  Fiona wept at the hole where Blythe had once been. Reuben couldn’t feel anything but the heat of revenge, but he held Fiona, whispering the nothings that calmed people.

  Max wore a Union dress uniform. After bowing in front of Blythe’s casket, he wandered over to Gina’s final resting place. Perhaps seeing the etched stone, he could come to terms with her death. Max prayed at both graves longer than Reuben had lingered.

  Blythe wasn’t there, only emptiness.

  In the limo on the way back to the yacht, Max leaned over to Reuben. “I’ve heard you’re being inducted tonight.”

  MI-23 had broadcast news of the event far and wide. Instead of complaining, Reuben squeezed Fiona’s hand. “Yeah.”

  “I’m thrilled to hear it. We’ve had enough Xerxes clones. You’re something new.”

  “Frankly I was happier as your luggage caddy.”

  “You were never just a caddy. You were a pupil and friend. Did I ever ask you to do any work I didn’t participate in as well?”

  “Only when you threw your back out, old man,” Reuben said, causing the women to smile. “If you’re leading up to something unpleasant, just spit it out.”

  “I know you’re not comfortable talking about the whole God thing.”

  Reuben rolled his eyes. The Black Ram version of the Golden Rule was, “Don’t take a sucker’s last credit.” The flipside was to always share with those in need. Max needed to give moral advice, even when it fit like a tutu on a pig. “You’re my mentor, and I shall always listen to your wisdom.”

  “You’re about to face a watershed moment of character,” Max said. “Your Black Ram connection to the mass-mind is similar to the sacred !kia trance of my ancestors. It should always be used for healing, never death.”

  “A ship full of enemies stands between us and your mission. Should we send them chocolates in heart-shaped boxes?”

  Max gazed into his soul. “Once you start down the killing road, there are no U-turns. One day you wake up, and innocent people are afraid of you.”

  Like Shag? “It’s the shepherd’s job to protect the flock from predators. You pushed me into this job. Don’t complain when I do it.”

  “Hear with the heart, not the hurt.”

  They rode in silence to the spaceport. Camera lenses from the cloud of media drones glinted in the sun as his friends entered the spaceport lounge to wait.

  He wanted the ceremony performed on the surface in case his trance revealed special hardware he might need to fight the Saurians. Max had an entire team of medical specialists with him, and Daisy gave orders to a squad of marines.

  Reuben lingered in the limousine, unwilling to take the irreversible step toward the site of his next ceremony. He turned off his recorder and stared at the complementary decanter of local rice wine.

  Suddenly, a pale-faced woman with white, wavy hair sat opposite him in the back of the luxury vehicle. She had a flat chest, elegant clothes, and the large eyes of a fragile doll. Altogether, she had the aspect of a benevolent goddess. He recognized her by the strength of her aura.

  Reuben bowed his head to the projection. “Echo.” This was her true form. Gazing on it too long might brand his mind as it had Max’s. “Good to know you can
change forms again.”

  “You may not take my sphere into combat. I cannot risk my triad or the prototype drive.”

  “We’re at war!” he shouted in frustration.

  “Not yet. Not if we can help it. War is the poisoner of souls.”

  Reuben clenched his fist at the implacable Zen of the Magi neutral. “Then tell me how to avoid it!”

  “This is your time. You approach your hour of decision. We cannot choose for you.” She radiated sadness.

  “I give you my word that any battle I seek will be with my own vessel and not yours.” He might have to crash into the Saurian freighter, but he would keep his word.

  “Your promise is appreciated but gives no comfort.” She lifted his chin to meet his gaze. “My triad’s love for you is deep and genuine.”

  He shook his head to avoid being seduced away from his goal. “What happened to the hand of the uplifter not being seen?”

  “The time for illusions is gone. Equals uplift one another. I see our secrets in your mind already.” Was that fear in her voice?

  “What are you afraid of? What have I done against any of your kind?”

  Echo flickered. “If I succeed, and I must, our time as a species draws to a close.”

  “What?”

  “We are fulfilled. Our years among the young races are limited. You and the Humans must step up to claim your places of leadership in the Union.”

  Reuben concentrated on the necklace of gold rectangles around her neck with the green stone in the center. Light churned in the heart of the jewel. “Our world isn’t ending, just your part as an individual. You’re going to let yourself die as soon as the drive design is delivered to Magi space.”

  “I am a seed. The fruit changes everything. Your choices will guide many for centuries.”

  “I hear with my heart,” he said, mainly to shut her up. “Could I have some peace and quiet now?”

  “I give you the quiet, friend. You must forge the peace.”

  The Magi’s form vanished.

  A line of robed and masked members of MI-23 waited between the limo and the stairs to his yacht to escort him to his destiny.

  Chapter 29 – Acceptance

  After a male Goat nurse took his vitals and a blood sample, Reuben electronically signed all of his remaining finances over to Kesh. The entire Goat Embassy staff witnessed the transaction. As his sole personal possession, Reuben chose his wrist computer with its hacking tools. The clothes he wore, including his favorite fedora, would revert to the Mnamnabonian government upon his retirement or demise.

  Once the formalities had been handled, Officer Marta, interspecies liaison for the police, served Reuben tea in the yacht’s salon.

  “Where’s Fifi?” Reuben asked. “No offense, but my first time isn’t going to be getting frisked by a cop.”

  Marta smiled. “She’s in the bedroom waiting for you. We just wanted to make sure you understand the ground rules of your office.”

  “My test scores for the constitutional law classes are on file in the latest cube from Shangri-La.” Reuben drained the cup. “I’ll save us both time and summarize. I’m the one ram who must never follow blindly. That is the road to species destruction. Think for myself and be vigilant. If I can’t stop a threat to my flock, I should make sure history remembers my retribution.”

  The officer nodded. “You forgot one precept: never use your office for personal gain.”

  “Hence the vow of poverty. I’ve seen how little my people have. Even a bandit wouldn’t take their last credit.”

  Marta gestured to the bedroom door. “Happy final exam, sir.”

  When Reuben entered the room, he noticed twelve room-service carts, just like he had in his hotel when Fiona first tried to seduce him. A vision of lace and sheer fabric reclined on his bed; Fiona took his breath away. Since he was mute, she spoke. “Tonight, I deny you nothing.”

  The college version of himself danced and began constructing a list. His excitement dampened when he thought, The dirt hasn’t even settled on Blythe’s grave. “Excuse me. They want me to take my levels one last time.”

  Reuben ducked into his private bathroom to psych himself up for the challenge and stared at his face in the mirror. “You can do this. Stay in control.” Then he recalled the vial Draven had given him for this moment. Retrieving the elixir from his pocket, he popped the cork and drained the sharp liquid in one gulp. Taking off his shirt and jacket, he checked out his abs one last time. Still rock hard.

  Locking eyes with his own reflection, he said, “Find out how to fight the Blue Claws.”

  Making his worst medicine face, he reentered the bedroom and tossed the empty vial. “Another dead soldier.” He slurred the last word.

  Fiona paled. “What have you done? Marta already administered your dose.”

  The tea. Crap. The room spun. Reuben staggered over to the bed. Forget control. He’d be lucky not to throw up. However, scrapping the test would cause days more delay. “We don’t have time. Help me.” He pulled down his pants and fell face-first onto the carpet. Ironically, only one muscle was still ready for this test.

  As Fiona bent over him, his perceptions shifted. He heard colors. He squeezed her tight against him, sensing the connection they had through the Collective Unconscious. Expanding his awareness, he felt a similar cord linking him to Marta in the other room, as well as Roz and Daisy. A tight thread led up to orbit. He was tied to every woman he had ever helped with his talent in a bright mandala of string. The connections were the important things, not the bodies. Why hadn’t he seen that before?

  They were all open to him, willing to lend him capacity just as he had them.

  “Take me,” Fiona whispered.

  He did just that. He pulled energy from all of them to make the leap. He focused on his rage and the question he needed for his mission as his worldview exploded.

  ****

  Reuben stood on a platform woven of personal connections. Below him, chaos swirled. His threads tangled with others. Somehow, the seething mass was all linked together. How could he cope with something so alien? Even if the mass represented his people, he had nothing in common.

  He imagined Blythe, and she stood beside him, dressed as she had been for their first kiss. His grief almost knocked him out of the higher state. “I wanted you to be here for this.”

  “I am.”

  Reuben leaned toward her. “Help me.”

  The phantom of Blythe merged with him, tying him directly to the enormous power below. The combined intellect chewed through his problems like a chainsaw.

  He quickly discarded every plan he had formed against the Saurians. Jumping behind them with the subbasement drive would drain the shuttle batteries and require two hours to recover. He switched to diversion tactics. Most involved mounting spare Icarus drives onto space debris and coordinating the attacks. Orchestrating the assault would take months and open a new branch of space warfare. He had neither the time nor the desire to be remembered for this scientific advance. He would remain behind only as a memory because nearly every boarding-party assault resulted in his committing crimes or a high probability of his death. In the blur of scenarios, he discarded every path that resulted in the death of his friends. Hull breaches were inevitable in such a clash. After several minutes of winnowing, nothing viable remained.

  Reuben felt a tug from the other realm. No. I’m not ready to return yet. He was the smartest Goat in the galaxy. He could solve this problem if he just found the right angle.

  What about the Bankers who held their strings? The chainsaw reacted to the slightest movement of his thoughts, tearing through large regions of his memory, making casual connections and deductions he hadn’t asked for. “The ansible overheard our route in the cockpit.” Once he found the connections, everything seemed so obvious. Every subspace nexus between here and Giragog would be guarded by lethal force. The actions of his enemies became simple and predictable responses to his team’s actions.

  He
heard panicked pleas. Someone shook him.

  No. Just a little longer, and I’ll have it all.

  He was a god, and his nerves were the mental links between his people. His body spanned the stars. He could not be denied. He reached for the Giragog puzzle to crack the complex security of several species, and the answer fell into his hand like a ripe apple.

  Someone smacked him hard across the face.

  He never considered striking her back. Her concern exceeded any thought for her own safety. The spark inside her wasn’t the roaring blaze of Blythe’s love, but it warmed him. He would return in order to ease her mind. His divine body would be here any time he wanted to reinhabit it.

  ****

  Reuben was pinned under Fiona’s lithe body as she performed chest compressions. Weeping, she leaned forward to breathe life into him. He changed the action into a kiss. “Peace,” he whispered.

  Gasping, Fiona said, “You were gone over eleven minutes.”

  “I could have stayed longer, but you were so frightened.” He stroked her hair away from her face.

  “Don’t do that to me again.” Concern fading, she said, “You’re a bloody eleven. We’ve never had one of those before.”

  Parts of him roused at her pressure and intimate warmth. “Shh. Our minders don’t need to know all this. As far as they’re concerned, you’re still performing your duties.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her tighter.

  “Is that what this is for you, a distasteful duty?”

  “I won’t know until I have a taste. Will I?”

  She obliged him with a taste, then a bite, followed by a five-course meal.

  During their second dessert course, Marta burst in to make sure the drugs were working.

  Reuben replied, “I got what I wanted ages ago. Now it’s her turn.” He knew through Fiona’s murmured confessions that she elected not to become pregnant this time so she could stay with him longer. By law, he would still owe her a child.