Mercury's Bane: Book One of the Earth Dawning Series

by Nick Webb

  “Oh my god,” Walker whispered.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Halfway between Earth and Venus

  EFS Intrepid

  Barely two minutes after Pike had joyfully shook Charlie’s hand and they’d begun their hard burn for Mercury, Walker had called them back and insisted that they dock instead at the Intrepid, which was itself making hard burn for Venus. She wouldn’t say why. But the cold steel in her voice made him realize it wasn’t a request.

  Not that she was his superior officer or anything. Still, when she got like that, he knew it was best to play along. We need to finally meet this Nhean, she’d said, and left it at that during their brief conversation.

  Now, hours later, they were docked with the Exile Fleet’s flagship halfway to Venus, and finally getting settled in after their orientation briefing from the deck officer.

  “Here’s my turn.” Pike jerked his head at the corridor that led to the admiral’s quarters. “I’ll catch up with you soon.”

  “Saw a game room with a card table.” Charlie Boyd gave a rakish grin. “Play you later?”

  Pike said drily, “I don’t risk my luck against guys who’ve survived what you just walked through without a scratch.” But he gave a mock salute, and clasped the other man’s hand. “I’m glad you made it.”

  “As am I.” Charlie tipped an imaginary hat and strode away, whistling.

  Pike, staring after him, felt a deep twist of sympathy. There was nothing to be said at times like these. Charlie’s eyes were shadowed, a look Pike knew all too well. The bright smiles, the bravado, the offers of card games and shitty alcohol—he’d seen all of it as a cargo hauler. There was always some new recruit running away from a past life.

  Charlie wouldn’t have come off planet unless he believed, at long last, that his wife and daughter were lost to him. He’d survived the crash of the labs, but the rest of the team had been lost—and the rumors of human slaves held on the station seemed to have been just that, rumors. His survival was as miraculous as it was cruel, and Pike knew the haunted look of a man with lives on his conscience, and nothing left to live for.

  Pike’s face was almost as grave as he pushed open the door of the admiral’s quarters.

  She looked up at him dully.

  “Laura?”

  The sound of her name seemed to shake her awake. “What’s happened?” Behind her desk, Walker stood. “Is it the girl?”

  “No.” He looked away, irritation at her single-mindedness warring with the urge to cross the room and wrap her in his arms. He held himself still through force of will. “The man who piloted that ship—Charlie Boyd? He lost his wife and daughter. He’s not doing too well. As you’d guess, I’d expect.”

  Walker looked away with a sad smile, and Pike followed her gaze to the neat shelves and open closet with its spare uniforms. The Intrepid was a refitted cargo hauler, and she didn’t have enough possessions to fill the quarters of a hauler’s captain. There were no pictures on the wall of children or grandchildren. There were no scattered drawings or the knick knacks most humans kept. She lived a spartan life, like she would only reward herself with any possessions once she could store them in the only place that really mattered: a home on their own world.

  “There’ll be time to help him, after the war, I suppose,” Pike said awkwardly.

  “Sit.” She gestured wearily. She seemed to be trying to pull herself together. “You want some whiskey?”

  “Real whiskey?”

  “What’s real whiskey anymore?” She raised an eyebrow. “It gets you drunk. Take it or leave it.”

  Drunk? Laura Walker had once been a woman who didn’t get drunk. He looked closer and saw the desperation in her movements. What had happened after the battle? He thought it had been a success.

  He wouldn’t ask directly; she would come to it in time.

  “I’ll take some.” He settled into the one spare seat and took the tiny glass from her. She made sure their fingers didn’t touch. “So.”

  “So.” She settled in; it took visible effort for her not to let go. “Nhean thinks the Dawning is the girl. But I’m not so sure.” Her face was expressionless.

  “Oh?” He’d left her in the cargo hold, unpacking the Rebellion ship.

  “Why a human girl?” She was walking him through something, he could tell.

  But he’d been thinking about the same thing, in any case. “Why any of this?” he countered.

  Her look said she had her suspicions, but she wasn’t ready to share them yet. “You think she can learn to take down the real ships?”

  “The ships she took down were real ships,” Pike insisted. “Ask Charlie if you want—the silvery feathered ones, they said those were worse than the black ones.”

  She had nothing to say to that. She took a sip of her whiskey and leaned back in her chair, eyes distant.

  “I don’t like it,” she said finally. Her gaze met his, and he saw the depth of her worry there. “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t like that she took you to the lunar base and she took down half the fleet. I don’t like it at all.”

  “If you had seen her, you wouldn’t doubt her.” Pike heard his voice rise and forced himself to sit back in his chair. “When the ships went down, she was glad. But she looked furious when she saw those other black ships.”

  “Looked?”

  “She doesn’t talk.”

  “And why is that?”

  “How should I know?”

  “Think simpler. Think about what she is: a precious resource we spent lives to acquire and protect, again and again. A tool … a woman who was supposed to be able to disable all the Telestine forces, but who ... didn’t.”

  He knew where this was going. “She isn’t working for them.”

  “Say you’re right. Say you know beyond any shadow of a doubt that she wants to destroy the Telestines.” She held up a hand. “At this point, I’m even willing to believe it. But you say she was horrified that she couldn’t take down the rest of the ships. What does that mean? Does it mean she thought she could? Does it mean she tried to do so and something—something programmed, something she can’t control—kept her from doing so? Why did she fail? We don’t know. What we know is that she was raised in a Telestine laboratory and she was not the resource we thought she was.” She paused, adding, “in either form or function.”

  “You knew that when you protected the shuttle.” Pike’s face was white.

  “Because she is still, in whatever way, a good chance. If nothing else, the ways they modified her to interface with Telestine technology can be studied.”

  His blood ran cold. “Studied?”

  “What do you want me to say, Bill? What would make it sound kinder to you?” She put the glass down at last and leaned across the desk to stare at him. “You’ve traveled with her. You’ve become fond of her. But this isn’t … a normal … girl,” she said, emphasizing the words.

  He had the vivid memory of the girl thumping at the control panel. He could see that sudden, amused smile in her eyes. She was human, he wanted to insist. She was human in ways even a Telestine lab couldn’t touch. She would never betray them. But he caught himself: betrayal was a hallmark of humanity, of course.

  “You’ve been speaking to Nhean,” he accused her.

  “Yes. He advised me not to allow her on the bridge, that was all. He says he will explain more when we see him. But, Pike, think. There’s more to this.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’m afraid.…” She looked away. “I’m afraid I’m jumping at shadows.”

  “Tell me,” he repeated.

  She drained the glass and grimaced. “Nhean claims there’s a civil war beginning between the Telestine factions—and that we kicked it off. I fear that we accidentally chose a side—or were manipulated into choosing a side—and did someone else’s dirty work.”

  The realization was as swift as it was devastating. Two fleets, only one of which had been destroyed.

  “She was m
ade to destabilize one of the factions.”

  She waved her hand a few times, motioning his reasoning forward.

  “And … and we were the tool her makers used to … unleash her. She was the bullet, we were the gun. Her makers look innocent, and … heroic, for fighting us off.”

  “Yes.” Walker gave a despairing laugh. “Yes. We just ... we just helped someone annihilate the main Telestine fleet. I blew it to hell. I mean, don’t get me wrong—it felt amazing. But....”

  “Fewer Telestines to fight in the end,” Pike offered. It was the only thing he could think of.

  “You think so?” She raised her eyes to his, and there was a yawning abyss there. “The Telestine fleet came for our labs and it came for our military ships, but it never came for humanity. They always focused on military targets and ignored civilians. Do you think you can say the same for whoever we just put in power?”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Venus, 49 kilometers above surface

  Tang Estate, New Zurich

  “Earlier today, the humans, in a gross and egregious violation of their treaty with us, launched a premeditated attack that crippled our defensive fleet. Their technology has advanced past the fair limits stipulated by our treaty. The humans, not content with the resources and aid we have given them, have decided to act with aggression. They have chosen war. Even now, their fleet is massing for another attack. Lend me your support, and I promise to end this aggression by whatever means necessary.”

  The words, read aloud in a too-smooth computerized voice, echoed off the marble walls of the study. Walker listened with her head bowed. Three of her officers stood with her, the gunmetal grey of their uniforms lit gold in the piercing light from the windows.

  Pike stood alone.

  “His name,” Nhean said quietly, “is Tel’rabim.”

  Walker started at the sound of the name. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “Who’s that?” Pike was beginning to feel irritated by all of this. He didn’t know the first thing about politics, much less alien politics. Why was he here?

  “Tel’rabim has long been one of the most generous advocates for humanity.” Nhean settled into his chair. “I communicated with him regularly on any number of issues: medicine for outer colonies, enhanced Gileadi Gravitation field-forming technology. He advocated for us within the Telestine government—or so I was led to believe.”

  “He was your source, wasn’t he?” Walker almost spat the words. “You told us of factions. You told us that it might be worth it to take their help. And you’ve been communicating with a man who wanted to kill all of us.”

  “Communicating, and using his communications to begin reverse-engineering the Telestine computer systems.” Nhean looked at her without remorse. “Every communication I could convince him to make directly to me gave me more of an insight into their encryption, their FTL radio technology. It was through that process that I found my window into their defense network—or what I thought was their defense network.”

  “Speak plainly.” Walker had gone to the window. Now she tossed one blazing glance over her shoulder.

  Pike couldn’t help but agree with her sentiment.

  “It turns out that he was quite the scientist. I’m beginning to think he may have been the one behind the modification of the human slaves. As should also be clear by now....” Nhean looked around the room wryly. “The Dawning was his invention.”

  “She’s not an invention, she’s a human.” Pike knew his voice was too loud, all wrong. He looked down when the others turned to stare at him.

  “She was once. She may not be anymore.”

  “She’s human.” The words came out through gritted teeth.

  “Mr. Pike, there is more than your personal sentiment at stake.” Nhean’s voice was uncompromising. “She is a weapon. Presumably, if she had not fallen into our hands, he would have used her against the Telestine military himself. It would have been a bloodbath. I would not expect to be able to wield such a weapon without collateral damage.”

  Pike opened his mouth to argue, and Walker cut him off with a swipe of her hand.

  “Why would he use a human?” She sounded genuinely curious.

  “I wondered the same. He may have been supplying technology to the Telestine military; he had called a meeting with some of their top brass to discuss a new weapon he was developing. It’s possible he could have deployed her while he was there, and used his control of the defense grid to force them to hand over the ships. My guess—and this is only a guess—is that humans have some innate quality that Telestines do not, that enables them to control a greater flow of information if they’re somehow “modified” to be able to interface with the systems.”

  “My question is whether her inability to take down his ships is programming,” Walker murmured, “or hardware.”

  “Precisely.” Nhean nodded. His gaze went to the door as his aide slipped into the room.

  All heads swiveled, but Parees only gave a single nod to Nhean.

  Pike felt a flicker of surprise when the man’s shoulders slumped. Nhean’s eyes closed.

  “Forgive me for not opening with this.” He spoke quietly, and as he moved to his desk, he was walking like an old man. He sat heavily. “After the … incident, I wanted to be sure that my information was accurate.”

  “Tell us.” Walker laced her hands behind her back.

  “Another communication went out to the Telestine government, sent after the one you heard. I had it translated, then checked and retranslated….” For the first time since Pike had seen him, Nhean did not look composed. He looked lost.

  “Not saying it won’t make it not exist,” Pike suggested. It was his father’s advice, and it surprised him to hear the words coming out of his own mouth.

  Nhean gave a tired smile. “You are correct, Mr. Pike, of course. Very well.” He took a deep breath. “Tel’rabim has suggested to the Telestine government that humanity, in its current form, is nothing more than a drain on their society. Any human who lives long enough wonders why we were left alive at all, in this crippled state. During the initial invasion, a large contingent of Telestine society spoke out against genocide. They believed it was too strong, too barbaric an action to take.” His face twisted. “They were content to kill us more slowly, of course.” He looked away, and took a moment to compose himself. “But it is impossible to deny that humanity has been costly to them. We provide very little to them beyond the slave labor it takes to disassemble our own cities for them. Tel’rabim has told them that extermination is the only answer. Quite accurately, he believes that we will never stop trying to take Earth back. He needs little help making a compelling case that we are too much trouble—especially in light of the last battle.”

  Walker looked down at the floor. Pike saw her face twist.

  Nhean’s voice was surprisingly gentle. “I believe he would have come to this point in any case. Once he controlled their fleet, no one would truly have been able to oppose him.”

  “He aided humanity.” One of Walker’s officers, Delaney, shook his head. “Why change his mind now?”

  “Change his mind?” Nhean laughed. The sound was not pleasant. “What did he get from our leaders? An exact idea of the things that hurt us. A thorough accounting of how many citizens were where. He’s been merciful for so many years—when he speaks against us, many will follow. Only Nixon could go to China, and all that. And they will know exactly where to go to carry out his plans. Plans I now believe he has held from the beginning. Plans to exterminate humanity.”

  “Where will he begin?” Pike tried to steady himself. None of this could be real.

  “I don’t know.” Nhean met his eyes. “He’s very ... methodical. But I don’t know.” He brought up a map of the solar system on a wall screen with a flick of his fingers. Human settlements glowed blue, primarily on Mars, the moons of Jupiter and Saturn, a dozen or so larger asteroids, with smaller smudges marking the estates on Venus, the newer settleme
nts at Neptune and Mercury, and even the far-flung outposts at Pluto and the other tiny Kuiper colonies. “I don’t know his plan—but by the time he’s done, the only humans left will be the slaves he keeps—and I rather think they’ll outlive their usefulness as soon as our cities are gone, don’t you?”

  Chapter Forty

  Venus, 49 kilometers above surface

  Tang Estate, New Zurich

  Pike was most of the way to roaring drunk by the time Walker arrived at his quarters. From his place, slid down in one of the armchairs, he waved a crystal decanter at her with careless grace.

  She stopped just over the threshold with a smile, and the door slid closed behind her with a little snik.

  “H’lo.” His voice was slurred. He managed to extricate himself from the chair—a complicated feat, by the looks of it—and tried to retrieve a glass for her from the table. When the glass tumbled to the Persian carpets, he stared at it with the grave acceptance of the inebriated. “Real whiskey,” he explained as she came closer.

  “I’d expect no less from our host.” Walker dropped into the opposite chair and tried to hide her grin.

  “Gimme some of that.” She took a different glass off the tray—a metal tray not so different from what one would find in any house in the slums of Ares Station, truth be told—and held it out.

  He poured very carefully, with a frown of concentration.

  “Wait. Don’t move.” Walker drained the glass and held it back out. “I have to catch up.”

  He gave her a smile at that, innocently pleased. He poured again and sat back with a thwump against the cushions.

  “W’happened after I left?”

  “When did you leave?” Walker frowned. “We looked up and you were gone.”

  “Didn’t know anything.” Pike gestured with his own glass and then stared sadly at the rug, where some of his whiskey had escaped to seep into the carpets. “Oh....”