Sector Eight (Perimeter Defense: Book #1)

by Michael Atamanov

  "The ambassador isn't coming back for me. He was in a great hurry to attend to urgent matters with the Orange House. He brought me here because it was on his way," the Princess as before wasn't raising her eyes, apparently preferring to study the floor tiles in the shuttle hangar.

  So, it's clear. The aging monarch was stubbornly trying to set me up with his daughter. He even purposely burned bridges so the meeting would never end. His importunity was beginning to get on my nerves.

  "Captain Clay ton Avelle, show Princess Astra to the shuttle that will take her back to the Tesse spaceport. And let your man help her acquire tickets for the next flight in the direction of the Kingdom of Veyerde. We've got a war with aliens here, a squabble with aristocrats, our systems are blockaded, and all kinds of great stuff, so I really have no time for a high-society discussion with a charming young creature such as the Princess."

  "Prince Georg, I beg you to give me but a little of your time!" the Princess unexpectedly lowered herself to the floor, not quite bowing, not quite curtsying on her haunches; due to her magnificent, many-layered dresses, it was impossible to tell.

  By the way, her skirts were laid out in totally perfect circles, as if they were drawn with a compass. I walked deliberately slowly around the girl who was sitting on the floor, then wondered:

  "Have you been practicing long?"

  The Princess didn't speak up, though her companion, a thirteen-year-old girl, answered for her:

  "Yes, what's to hide? We've been rehearsing since we left home. With a whole team of directors, costume artists, make-up artists and psychologists working out in detail just how my sister should behave depending how your Highness received her. What you've just seen was scenario sixteen: 'He wanted to send Astra home without even talking to her.'"

  I took a closer look at the talkative girl, whose speaking habits looked a bit too complex and correct for a thirteen-or-fourteen-year-old child. She says she's her sister? Well, why not? It could easily be. I noticed the family resemblance from first glance.

  "Well, and who are you, young thing?" I wondered.

  "That is my younger sister Florianna Blidge,” answered Astra, and in the Princess's voice I detected distinct notes of shame. It seems it had gotten under the Princess's skin that I had begun speaking not with her, the bright, elegant beauty, but with her younger sister.

  "Just Florianna, without 'royl' or even 'ton' in her name?" I asked in surprise.

  "That's right, your Highness," answered the younger girl, looking me fearlessly right in the eye. "King Kant royl Pikar had doubts about my parentage, and the genetic test he had done proved his suspicions. Astra and I share a mother, but I have no rights to titles. Since six years old I've been living in the palace as a servant to my older sister."

  I could see how unpleasant the topic was for the serious girl; however, she overcame her embarrassment and told me honestly about her situation. I even started to like the little squirt, but I stopped myself on the thought that her honesty and sympathy-inducing story were probably just the next speech thought up by the psychologists so I'd change my decision to send the sisters back.

  "That is all very interesting, of course, and under different circumstances I would talk with you, but you've come at a very bad time. I have a few rather complex negotiations coming up, and my every minute is booked through..."

  "Your Highness is not speaking the full truth in order to hide his true feelings. He really does have a lot to do and is very worried, but in fact, Astra, your unexpected visit has made him very happy," said the girl, looking me impudently right in the eye.

  Huh, huh, huh… Now it's getting interesting. That little punk can't be reading my thoughts, can she?

  "Flora has been a spontaneous Truth Seeker since childhood. Her abilities appear uncontrollably."

  The incoming call signal interrupted our conversation:

  "Your Highness, a message has come in from Crown Prince Peres royl Paolo ton Mesfelle. He is insisting on an urgent meeting in no uncertain terms. He calls us a 'gang of pirates,' 'impudent conquerors,' 'violators of order,' and other such epithets."

  "Answer him that Crown Prince Georg is not able to receive him – he is busy with a pretty lady."

  A minute later, the officer reported:

  "That hasn't stopped him, he's still insisting on a meeting. Our radars have picked up a ship detaching from one Peres royl Paolo's cruisers and coming in the direction of our shuttle. Estimated time of arrival: ten minutes."

  That's what I call a pesky guy. Only the Princess's presence held me back from swearing out my frustration aloud.

  "So, ladies, you're in luck. Your being sent home has been set back for some time. Captain, give the sisters a cabin and send people to bring Princess Astra's things immediately." The time had come for me to play the rude, tactless pirate for a bit.

  I called over the loudspeaker.

  "Attention, team! Crown Prince Peres wishes to visit our ship – the very same highborn swine that had the gall to hang up on me and took it into his mind to take our star systems by force. He is behaving boorishly, calls me an impudent pirate, a chronic alcoholic, and an earthworm. Friends, I have a request of you. Let's give Crown Prince Peres exactly what he wants so badly: an uncontrollable, rag-tag horde of drunken cutthroats without the word 'discipline' in their vocabulary. So, if anyone has any empty bottles or bags of alcohol, take them out and throw them into the hallway – you can even break them. If there's some booze left in the bottles, I order you to drink it immediately. Admiral Kiro Sabuto, I know how reverently you treat the appearance of your subordinates, so I have an order for you: do not leave your chambers for the next few hours so you don't have a nervous breakdown. Everyone else, change your uniform to the most raggedy clothes or even rags you can get your hands on. This masquerade is very important so he won't take us seriously. And also, burn a couple mattresses with a blaster on the second deck. I want there to be smoke on the whole ship. Lastly, I'll need a pretty girl to sacrifice her good name for the glory of the whole Empire."

  * * *

  I haven't laughed that hard in a long time! No, honestly, you had to see it! I was watching on the monitor as Crown Prince Peres and his two assistants traversed the halls of Queen of Sin, giving a wide berth to the hordes of drunk, half-naked cutthroats. A den of iniquity, a scrapyard, an illegal immigrant detainment facility – these were the kinds of places that the scene brought to mind, not the chic yacht it actually was taking place on. It seemed to me that some crewmembers were overdoing it a bit, but the expression of horror and disgust on the face of the Crown Prince as he walked through the halls spoke to the fact that he earnestly believed that the chaos being acted out around him was real.

  "Password!" Phobos croaked out threateningly in the hallway, pointing a bundle of stalks from his four upper appendages at the recent arrivals.

  "What's the password, dummy?! They aren't even from our ship!" Bionica arrived just in time and dragged the praying mantis away from the scared-stiff visitors.

  "Total strangersss? Eat!!!" the ten-foot insect displayed his aggressive nature with all his might.

  "Phobos, shoo. We mustn’t refuse what the devil brings us..." I said into the microphone.

  The doors opened and a middle aged, but fit dark haired man came into the room wearing a dark red, expensive suit with golden epaulets. His companions remained in the hallway.

  "Ah, Peres, my beloved relative, you could’ve knocked... Well, now that you’re here, take a seat in any case. And you, scram!" The last sentence I had directed at Valian ton Corsa, who was sitting on the bed, under the comforter.

  The girl, with disheveled hair, jumped up from the wrinkled bed sheets and, after hurriedly scooping up an armful of her scattered belongings, ran out into the hall. Peres’s surprised gaze followed the naked beauty as she left, while he, I figured, read my “lover’s” popup information. Oh well, there will be another portion of scandalous information for the news channels tonight. I hoped that t
his fresh information about Georg royl Inoky's new favorite would put the story with the android on the back burner.

  "Do you know why I've come?" my uninvited guest wondered aloud gloomily.

  "I have two guesses," I answered with a none-too-sober voice. "Either you've come to share a drink with a dear relative, or you've come to negotiate for the Sigur system, which has been promised to you. In the first case, here's a glass, here's a bottle, pour yourself as much as you like. In the second, my price is four billion credits."

  "Have you lost your mind, Georg?!" he exclaimed. "The system isn't even worth that much!"

  "To me it is. It is distant from the more heavily trafficked stellar routes, so there won't be strangers coming through. I can place bases, docks, and workshops there. I can train my fleet there and develop new tactics, and no one will see. You could even have a squadron of flying pigs there, and no one would find out. Also, it's a matter of principle – it is my system, and you want to take it from me. And what does a mere four billion mean to someone like you, the ruler of the rich Nessi system?"

  "Sigur is not your system! The Duke declared to anyone that would listen that it belongs to me!"

  "Well, then the price just went up to ten billion," I countered calmly. "In that, for you, it has become a matter of principle. You've been promised something, but you'll never be able to get it, and everyone knows it. What a shame, what a loss of clout... I'm offering you a great way out: ten billion to save face."

  "Don't be stupid! My fleet is far superior to yours! I can take what is mine without spending a dime!" Peres rasped through his teeth. “There is no alternative!”

  "Your fleet will never get through Hnelle. Are you hoping to sneak by my yacht? Not likely! Do you know what makes Queen of Sin special? She's a high-speed yacht, not a combat ship. She has the energy to make two warp jumps. That is precisely how I was able to set the speed record from Tesse to the Throne World recently. So your fleet isn't a threat to me. I'll go to Himora and jump to Hnelle from there. And the other ships – it’s not an urgent matter, they can wait you out and jump after me when you’re long gone."

  "Not likely, Georg! I could even wait for a year. I would never miss the moment when you activate the Hnelle beacon. And then the question becomes whether the freight ships that are already backing up here in Tesse with goods intended for Unatari will share your patience."

  I took a sip of my drink calmly and answered with a smile.

  "Have it your way. I just needed proof that I tried to resolve the matter peacefully, and you were the one who wouldn’t have it. If the Emperor should have to settle this later, I'll simply play back the footage of the conversation we just had. And now listen carefully and don't interrupt, so you'll really hear me: if your fleet enters the Hnelle system, as the legal holder, which I am until my daughter's coming of age, I have the full right to eliminate trespassers. Consider this your official warning. And now, do the nice thing and get off my ship. I haven't yet finished with sweet lady Valian."

  Peres went back through the halls of Queen of Sin, and the first repercussions of our unsuccessful negotiation had already come in the form of system messages:

  Global standing decrease. Current value -18

  Global standing decrease. Current value -19

  When the Crown Prince's shuttle had undocked from my yacht, I spent some more time in the command center silently watching the fear-inducing enemy fleet on the tactical screen as it seemed to hang in space not far from Queen of Sin. It was an impressive sight to be sure. There was a battleship, twelve heavy assault cruisers, twenty light cruisers, forty destroyers and two hundred frigates. As far as the enemy could tell, we had just twenty ships: Joan the Fatty, two Legashes, and a handful of support ships. Our forces looked clearly mismatched. Here in Tesse, with the protection of Roben and his fleet, I didn't have to worry about open aggression, but in Hnelle... The enemy was strong. Very strong.

  * * *

  In my visit to Roben, I took the two sisters. First, why not? Let the girls see the whole wide world, given that they had the chance to get out of their home system for once. Second, I was nursing the timid hope of leaving the both of them in my older brother's flying palace and not having to continue to carry the burden of responsibility for the Princess and her younger sister.

  As before, Astra kept up the proud princess act. She didn't relax for a second, tried to maintain good posture, a straight back, an even head, hands on knees – that kind of stuff. With her short height, around five foot three, and wide ceremonial dress, somewhat inappropriate for a flight in a packed shuttle, the girl looked like a pretty, big doll, that someone sat up in a chair where she's stayed ever since, motionless. Her sister wasn't bound by such harsh restrictions and was spinning in place, like a top, looking at the belt of space stations, huge ore ships, and tiny shuttles that flew by overhead.

  However, Flora's behavior changed sharply when it came time for our shuttle to land on the flying palace's landing pad. The girl suddenly narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists, as if preparing for a fight. I didn't figure out right away who she was reacting so angrily toward, but then I saw for myself. Millena Mayer was coming toward us through the bushes with a deadened gaze, clearly not caring to find a path. The eight-year-old girl's gaze was trained on Florianna, as if she didn't notice the others. The two Truth Seekers must have had something of a difference of opinion...

  The bright blue sky suddenly began to quickly grow dark. A sharp cold wind began to blow. I noticed that Millena's eyes began to glow with an orange fire, and her hair was fluttering in the gusts of wind. The girl bared her teeth and hissed like a disgruntled cat. However, Flora didn't give way. She stretched out her hand in the direction of her rival and put the girl on the ground with an invisible blow. Millena answered by giving a sharp, ultrasonic shriek that made my ears close up.

  "Hey, hey, that's enough!" Roben royl Inoky, who appeared from behind the bushes, broke up the attempt to establish dominance.

  Millena lowered her hands, which she had been holding in front of her as if defending herself from an unseen force. Flora also immediately relented and fell down on the grass, drained of strength.

  "Little brother, you've got to be kidding me! Have you completely lost your mind? Bringing a Truth Seeker here?!"

  "Yeah, well, who could have known they'd go at it like that?" I answered, still not having shaken what I'd seen.

  Roben walked up closer and gently rubbed his Truth Seeker's head.

  "Millena here is still small and is very afraid that someone else will take her place. Truth Seekers need a strong, influential master. Only then do they reveal themselves, gathering their energy from the master’s power or something – I don't know for sure. With me, the girl is progressing quickly. She's becoming more confident and strong. All the same, what a smart kid. She wasn't afraid to go against someone older than her!"

  "Flora is self-taught. No one has trained her. Her abilities are spontaneous and unstable," I answered, observing as Astra, having taken a seat next to her sister, wiped Flora’s nose, which was dripping with blood.

  "Well, I see then. Millena still wouldn't have wanted to take on an experienced opponent; the girl understands her modest abilities. She wouldn't even risk getting near your Miya. She would give up immediately..."

  My brother and I walked slowly along the garden path. Astra stayed with her sister, and I told my other companions to stay near the shuttle. Roben walked laboriously with a wheeze and finally sat down on a bench, exhausted. I took a seat next to my brother.

  "I have decided to sell my gladiator team," my brother told me.

  "Why?" I exclaimed. Knowing about his many-year hobby, the decision looked beyond strange.

  Roben stayed silent, looking at the pinkish evening sky, then answered:

  "It's just that my cutthroats have stopped bringing me joy. Yes, to a spectator it looks impressive – blood, steel, battle, not for life but to the death. But I know that my players are pros and
aren't really taking risks in the arena but, instead, just acting out for the audience. My son, now there's a real warrior! How he fights for his life! He's just passed his third month, but he's already been on the very brink so many times, balancing between life and death, something no gladiator would dream of..."

  "How is the situation with your son now?" I wondered, not overly sure how my brother would answer.

  But Roben perceived my question quite positively, in fact.

  "The doctors say that the crisis has passed, and his health is on the mend. But since they said that two weeks ago, the kid practically died!" Roben cried out the last part of the sentence at full power.

  We stayed silent for a little, then my brother, looking more at ease, added:

  "Millena told me recently that she kind of felt an evil thought directed at my son. Someone really does want my son to die..."

  Having noticed that I began trembling, Roben hurried to calm me down:

  "No, no, Georg, don't worry. I know it's not you, little brother. But, to reassure my wife, send your Truth Seeker a bit farther away. Verena just isn't herself and has even begun looking sideways at every shadow, seeing a potential murderer in every visitor. But then a Truth Seeker, even if she isn't very experienced..."

  I promised to have Florianna sent back to Queen of Sin before sundown, then suggested to Roben:

  "Brother, I want to give you a present. To be honest, I am not sure how you'll react to it. Three invisible bodyguards who will protect your son's cradle day and night and stop any killer, even giving their own life to do so. Chameleons can't be bought. For them an oath of loyalty, once given, is sacred, which is why you can always be sure that they won't be bought off by some aristocrat."