“My guess is that Abram wants progeny—something the Minoans denied him.” David Ray continued to mutter about what the isolationists had planned. Matt suspected that the counselor was worried, almost frantic, about Dr. Lee.
“So they show up with their own sperm, eggs, and TD weapon?” Matt asked. He didn’t buy into David Ray’s theories.
They’d reached the center corridors near the wheel and had seen no one. Matt started relaxing, perhaps too soon. He heard a boot scuff behind him. He whirled, but the short spoke corridor they’d detoured through was empty.
“I doubt they brought eggs—Qesan always diminished the female contribution. As for the weapon, we have to hope the buoy is still operational.” David Ray shrugged.
Crèche-get were raised to be self-sufficient, but Matt wasn’t as sanguine about the possibility of being cut off from the civilized worlds. He’d opted off before he was twenty, relatively, and his comfortable years on Athens Point made him hope that Warrior Commander was correct and the buoy would be fine.
They stopped before turning onto the wheel’s main semicircular-shaped corridors. David Ray poked his head out, and pulled it back to confer with Matt. Up to this point, they’d been talking in low tones or whispers. David Ray held his finger in front of his lips as a warning.
“We’re going to have to run around this corridor, where there’ll be plenty of chances to be seen from connecting spokes. No more talking. Move quickly and quietly.” He breathed his words softly.
David Ray looked around the corner again, and started running. Matt followed behind, remembering Dr. Lee’s comment and again wondering how old the counselor was, in absolute terms. David Ray was surprisingly spry.
They ran past several intersections. Turning, Matt saw familiar corridors. Going right back to where we started this nightmare. He adjusted his grip on the baton.
The birthing center doors were open, which was unusual. The first one they reached was to Birthing Center Two, and David Ray stopped short, winded. Matt stepped around him, holding the baton up, but didn’t step into the opening.
“Get out of the way!” shouted a rough male voice.
They heard the sound of equipment breaking.
“No! Don’t hurt her—Allison!” This was Dr. Lee Pilgrimage’s voice, shrill with anger. “Stop it. These embryos were ordered by Abram.”
“And his orders are clear. If we pull out or lose the system, we kill these things.”
“These are children, not things,” Lee said.
“My God, one of these is an abomination. Abram never authorized females, not for first-born.”
“Let me go!” Lee’s voice sounded panicked.
Matt gripped the baton and readied himself. He leaned into the opening to see a short, muscular man take Lee by the shoulders, shake her, and throw her sideways against the birth chamber wall. She collapsed like a rag doll, next to another crumpled body in a white lab coat. The man stepped back and, apparently intent upon destroying an occupied birth chamber, raised a weapon that looked like a slug pistol.
Matt steadied the baton over his other arm, lined up the small sights on the man’s torso, and pressed the second stud. The man screamed. He turned toward Matt and started convulsing. Matt realized he was still pressing the stud and he released it. With no smoke or haze, he couldn’t see the beam’s path.
“Lee!” David Ray pushed past him.
Matt followed more slowly and looked numbly down at Lee’s attacker, obviously in his death throes, the side and front of his chest looking like something had chewed its way out, rather than in. He felt like vomiting, but was distracted when David Ray tugged the leg of his coverall and pointed to the other technician.
This was obviously Allison, who must have hit her head going down. Her neck and back met in a strange angle, so Matt felt carefully for a pulse. He didn’t feel anything. Beside him, David Ray cradled Lee in his lap while he muttered and prayed. Something about opting out, settling down together, just like he promised her, if only she was okay, please Gaia, let her be okay—
“Stand up, crèche-get.”
Matt looked up to see another isolationist, with a squat, grav-hugger body, standing in the doorway and aiming a flechette pistol. His hand tightened on nothing; he’d set the Gaia-b’damned Minoan baton down somewhere. He started standing as the man was hit from behind with what sounded like a high-power stunner.The pistol flailed around before the man dropped, and Matt instinctively twisted and crouched down over David Ray and Lee. He yelped as he felt flechettes burn his right arm.
Quiet. He looked around to see two figures in environmental suits standing in the doorway over the body, holding firearms that looked like rifles. The AFCAW crimson crest of the Labrys Raptor on their shoulders stood out against the white of their suits. He never thought he’d be so happy to see that symbol.
The figure in front slung its rifle over its shoulder and stepped forward. It pushed a button on its wrist. The reflective shield slid up, quickly followed by the regular shield, to reveal Lieutenant Diana Oleander’s green eyes and oval face.
Matt was bewildered. His right arm hurt and he wanted to pull the needles out, but knew he shouldn’t. His left hand kept creeping toward his right arm.
“Matthew Journey, do you know me?” Her face looked worried.
“Yes. Diana.” Of course he knew her. She’d been nice to him when Edones took him to Karthage on the Bright Crescent. He felt dazed. She’d showed him around the ship. Oh, she’s wondering if I’m thinking straight. His right arm and hand were dripping blood.
“Matt, there’s a problem.”
Behind Lieutenant Oleander, the faceplate flipped up on the second figure, exposing a young man. He started calling in a medical emergency, four civilians wounded, two aggressors down.
There’s a problem? No kidding. That’s as obvious as the Great Bull’s balls. Matt’s vision blurred, and he tried to focus on Diana’s face.
“Matt, it’s Aether’s Touch. It’s fried and coming in on autopilot.”
“Isrid? Answer me, please.”
He opened his eyes to see Garnet’s face above him, her forehead lined with worry. “Chander?” he croaked, and her face smoothed into a smile.
“Sabina’s with him. He’s fine, physically, but they gave him a sedative to calm him. He didn’t get pumped full of drugs.” Like you, her eyes said. “When you’re ready, you’ve a lot to deal with—more than thirty contractors and civilians are dead. We’ve got fourteen prisoners.”
He remembered. Abram. Major Kedros. The stolen weapon. He was lying on the smooth, cold floor. Garnet knelt beside him and a member of his security stood at the door, part of the security detail that he’d foolishly left on Beta Priamos.
“Kedros. My ship.”
Garnet nodded. “They kidnapped Kedros, stole the Candor Chasma, and headed into a close orbit about the sun. Another ship followed, the Aether’s Touch, but Maria doesn’t know if it was stolen or not.”
He managed to sit up, with Garnet’s help. “They have one of our TD weapons. Do you know—”
“Maria monitored the FTL display. She says Candor Chasma dropped out of real-space. Aether’s Touch turned about and headed toward Sophia One, before the interference blanked out our sensors. We’re having bad solar flares, so comm’s out.”
“She must have pushed the detonation into N-space.”
“She?” Garnet was applying a cold pack to his face and it felt wonderful.
“Major Kedros. I’m betting that she saved us.”
Garnet paused, her eyes turning cool. “The destroyer of Ura-Guinn just became a hero by saving G-145?”
“Maybe. But don’t worry about thanking her, Garnet. I doubt she could have survived.” He took a sip of water, feeling immensely better. “After all, I forgot to warn her of the solar side effects after she pushed the detonation into N-space.”
CHAPTER 25
The Pilgrimage Criminal Justice System, as defined in
Pilgrimage Op
erating Manual, Series 12, will apply to
all civilian criminal offenses. AFCAW personnel will be
adjudicated under the Consortium Uniform Code of Mili tary Justice, unless . . .
—Status of Forces Agreement Between the Consortium of Autonomist Worlds and Pilgrimage Ship Line, 2085.210.12.00 US, indexed by Heraclitus 4 under Flux Imperative
The chaos had barely started. The Minoans had taken the control deck, because Warrior Commander’s voice suddenly reverberated through the Pilgrimage III.
“To all isolationists. Please surrender to the nearest guardian.” The Minoan voice was soulless and polite. After all, it said “please.” There were no threats. There didn’t have to be.
Abram’s followers weren’t tripping over themselves to turn themselves in; on the other hand, the guardians were stomping through every corridor on the Pilgrimage, searching. They opened hatches everywhere. Even where they shouldn’t have access to search, they were. The isolationists couldn’t find any safe haven.
Medics carefully lifted Dr. Lee to a stretcher and took her to the Pilgrimage’s medical center. She was alive, but unconscious, with internal bleeding and broken bones. David Ray looked devastated, but Matt couldn’t think of anything to say as the counselor trailed after the stretcher.
Matt tried to ignore the Minoans’ repeated announcement and concentrate on Diana’s words while an AFCAW medic fixed his arm. According to her, Aether’s Touch had been pursuing the Terran State Prince’s ship, called Candor Chasma, near the sun. The TLS Percival had been following them, but for some reason—here’s where Diana was vague—Candor Chasma had dropped out of real-space and both Aether’s Touch and Percival were heading back, under heavy radiation.
“Last I knew, Ari and Joyce were on Priamos. I’m not sure who’s on Aether’s Touch.” Matt tried not to wince as the medic pulled another flechette. Under anesthetic, it felt strange, since the flechettes had tiny fins so they wouldn’t come out of the flesh without a fight.
Diana’s story matched what Matt already learned with the Minoans, with the exception of the missiles the Bright Crescent shot off. The first warrior commander called them “Assassinators.” When was she going to get to that part of the story?
“Is the radiation due to the TD weapon?” He hoped to jog more of the story free.
Diana’s face took on the familiar, stubborn look that he’d seen before on Ari, Joyce, and Edones—the look that said he wasn’t supposed to know certain things, that said she couldn’t answer his questions.
“Look, Diana—the Minoans told us that a temporal-distortion wave was generated and pushed into N-space. They know, and they seemed pretty pissed off by it.” Matt was irritated; this was exactly like talking to Ari, or even Edones.
Shock widened Diana’s eyes. The medic working on his arm paused.
“Okay, don’t tell me about the TD weapon. Where’s Ari?” Matt closed his eyes.
“We think Major Kedros was on the Candor Chasma with the isolationists, perhaps as hostage. When the Candor Chasma dropped out of real-space, they were too far away to get a lock on the buoy, even if they had authorized codes. Percival recorded an emergency pod ejected right before transition, and their last message said Aether’s Touch took the time to pick up the pod. That was almost at the same point as the—the—I’m sorry, Matt, we don’t know if Major Kedros made it off the Candor Chasma. The sun’s going nuts and solar flares are playing havoc with comm. We can’t talk to anyone, unless they’re practically on our doorstep.”
Ari might be lost in N-space, with the Candor Chasma. On the other hand, she might be on the Aether’s Touch, fried by radiation, hurt, or perhaps just out of contact. Matt sighed heavily. I’m going to be optimistic, until proven wrong.
“The Percival is docking with radiation casualties.” Diana grabbed Matt’s attention. “The colonel wants you on the control deck, because we don’t know if the Aether’s Touch is coming in under control or not. You have remote command capability, right?”
Matt got to his feet, with the medic’s help, and numbly followed Diana. She had said that Aether’s Touch had taken the time to pick up the pod, meaning that the Aether’s Touch had taken more radiation exposure. If the Percival had serious casualties, they would expect that Ari had suffered the same—but AFCAW personnel weren’t familiar with the Aether’s Touch.
When Matt got to the control deck, Edones turned toward him. The strain had taken its toll on the colonel. Edones’s normally bland face was pale and lined with worry. He’d been looking at a casualty list displayed on the wall. At the top was the name “Alexander Joyce” and beside it was “Status: Critical” in red letters.
“What happened to Joyce?” he asked Diana.
“Abram took over Beta Priamos and Joyce took it back.” Edones said before Diana had a chance to answer.
“By himself?” Matt was impressed.
“Almost. They don’t expect him to make it, considering they can’t get him here to the Pilgrimage because of the radiation. He needs organs grown and replaced, and only the Pilgrimage has the lab facilities for that, in this system.”
Matt never thought he’d feel compassion for Edones, but he took pity, just this once.
“Remember, Aether’s Touch has protected compartments with extra radiation shielding.” Matt pointed to the name “Ariane Kedros” with “Status: Unknown” beside it. “If Ari’s on Aether’s Touch, she’ll have gone to those compartments.”
They waited. The chatter was cacophonous as controllers collected information from the recently docked Percival and Rhapsody. They were trying to piece together what was happening on the Priamos surface facilities, Beta Priamos Station, the mining station near Laomedon, the research platform orbiting Sophia II, and any other manned vehicle in the solar system. Communications throughout the system were down due to solar activity, so they gleaned what status they could from interviews and messages recorded prior to the TD wave.
A console displayed radiation readings and solar emission data, but everyone avoided reading it. Warrior Commander stood at an abandoned station to broadcast its periodical “surrender to the guardians” message. Commander Meredith walked about the consoles, checked on status, and tried to remind Warrior Commander about Pilgrimage sovereignty. All isolationists that the guardians arrested had to be confined on the Pilgrimage III for later arraignment—but no one knew if Warrior Commander was heeding Meredith’s words.
Edones and Matt silently watched the casualty status list grow, with both civilian and military personnel. Matt watched as two Terran State Princes were added: SP Parmet had minor wounds but was stable; SP Hauser was listed as critical due to radiation exposure. The personnel on the Percival had prior prophylactic treatments, as well as military-grade shielding. Matt hoped the radiation shielding around Aether’s Touch array compartment was as good as advertised.
The TLS Percival was faster than the Aether’s Touch. Matt tensed his fists as his ship, his own ship, came around into the eclipsed area behind Sophia I, where the Pilgrimage III and its docked vessels clustered for protection. If Ari hadn’t programmed the right parameters, if the ship wasn’t braking with enough reverse thrust, then Aether’s Touch might whip on by, given extra gravitational pull from Sophia I, and go into the inner solar system again. Worse, it could plow into the huge Pilgrimage III.
If the comm worked, Matt might be able to get control of the ship. He stood behind the controller at the comm station, tensely rising up and down on his toes. Aether’s Touch didn’t appear to be decelerating, from what they could determine with their sensors, hampered by noise from the irate sun. Matt took a deep breath. He might have to try remote braking from the Pilgrimage’s control deck.
“Pilgrimage Three, this is Aether’s Touch. Pilgrimage Three, this is Aether’s Touch on docking approach. Over.”
Through the static, Matt recognized Ari’s voice. He whooped in relief. She was alive, at least, and able to speak. The controller answered and asked for status and
specifically, dosimeter readings. Her dose was still within a safe range, which caused cheers on deck.
“See, she stayed in the protected compartment,” Matt said, turning to see Edones’s face collapse with relief. The colonel probably hadn’t intended a public display of—well, not affection, but concern, at least. Matt felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned toward Diana. He forgot she was standing at his side.
“I’m glad she’s safe.” Diana looked tired; there were shadows under her eyes.
Glancing about, Matt realized everyone looked haggard. He rubbed his chin, feeling several days’ growth. How much time has gone by since I thought life was normal and safe? The problems he’d had when he first boarded the Pilgrimage III now seemed small.
Ari’s voice came clearer now. “Pilgrimage Three, be advised I’m also carrying Tahir Dominique Rouxe, who is willing to turn himself in to Pilgrimage authorities. He requests asylum and protection from Abram Hadrian Rouxe. Over.”
Matt felt both Colonel Edones and Diana stiffen. He realized that Warrior Commander had turned to pay close attention to Ari’s message.
Ariane kept Tahir locked in the array compartment and spoke to him over internal comm. While she didn’t know what had happened on Priamos, she implied that Abram’s cause had failed.
“Is he alive?” He still sounded frightened of his father.
“I don’t know. Comm with Priamos is impossible right now. You need to think about yourself, and pick your justice.”
“What?”
“Everybody’s going to want a piece of you, believe me. This system is currently under Pilgrimage sovereignty, but the Consortium, the League, and maybe even the Minoans might indict you and attempt extradition.”
He was silent for a few moments, then said, “I don’t think it matters, as long as I’m not confined with any of my people. After all, I’m the only one who failed to meet Qesan’s directives.”
Vigilante Page 31
