by Nick Webb
“If you’re worried, I’m sure Nhean can send you the cleaning bill.” Walker pushed herself up and pried his fingers off the neck of the decanter. “Give it.”
He stared after it sadly.
“Not a lot happened,” Walker said with a shrug as she poured herself another drink. She promised herself that she was going to savor this one. She put her boots up on the carved table—jade? It looked like jade—and tipped her head back on the chair. Even the ceiling was exquisite, printed with an arabesque pattern that was oddly soothing.
Soothing, yet still obscene. Ninety nine percent of humanity suffered in the low-gravity slums of the solar system, and Nhean had jade tables and real whiskey.
“We all gonna die?” he asked. But his tone suggested it wasn’t a question.
She picked her head up to stare at him. He looked morose at last, and he shrugged at her look.
“’S a good question,” he insisted.
“Well, we’re not planning on it.” She was nettled, but the feeling was distant. “It’s really no more likely than it was a few weeks ago, anyway. Nhean thinks we have a bit of time while this Tel’rabim makes sure he has Earth locked down. If he sends his whole fleet after us before making sure the military is completely under his control, could be a ... what do you call a coup of a coup?”
“Return to normal,” Pike said promptly.
“Right. That. So we’re trying to slow that down. Nhean is releasing communications this man had with him, anything to make him look bad—and putting a message in a whole bunch of their networks that the weapon that took down their fleet was his.”
“They ... won’t believe that,” he said. The looming specter of death seemed to have sobered him up somewhat. He raised an eyebrow and twitched his fingers at the decanter.
“I’m still catching up,” Walker said, with great dignity.
“Fine. I’ll get the vodka.”
“Since when do you drink vodka?” She craned her head to follow him as he went to the sideboard.
“Since flying with Rychenkov.” He managed to retrieve another decanter and a few more glasses, and made a mostly-straight path back to his chair. He poured and held up one of the glasses. When she took it, he clinked his. “Tvajo zdarovye.”
“I’m not even going to try to repeat that. Cheers.”
“One more. Za ubliudkov.”
Her brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”
“The first one was, to your health. The second one was, to the bastards.”
She blinked.
Pike smiled and drained his glass. “Always the second drink for Russians.” He stabbed his finger at her. “Never forget the conquerors.”
“And toast to their health?”
“The wheel turns,” he said philosophically, spinning one index finger. “There are a few ways to toast someone’s health, eh?”
Walker downed the glass in a gulp. “All right. I’m drunk enough for confessions now.”
“No, you aren’t. And you’re not Catholic enough.”
“I’m more Catholic than the frickin Venetian Pope. Shut up.”
He shut up and sat back, resting his vodka glass on his chest and gestured for her to keep talking.
“The bastards,” Walker said. She could indeed feel inebriation coming on like a hard acceleration burn. Two and a half glasses of whiskey and two glasses of vodka. This was going to go poorly.
Might as well get the confession out while she could still talk.
“Here’s what I hate.” She scratched at the back of her head. “I want to go back,” she said. “I want to not go get the Dawning. I want not to give him th’excuse.”
“He would’ve killed us all anyway,” Pike said.
“Doesn’t matter. I want to take it back.” She paused, and decided to admit it: “I’m scared, Bill. Don’t want to die. Fugged everything up.”
Pike shook his head. “Would’ve done it anyway,” he said again. “Eventually. Kill all the livestock. Very expensive.” He started laughing, until a quick knock on the door startled him.
The door opened. A girl stood there: the girl. Eyes overlarge and black. Sunburned nose. Skin tanned and pale brown hair. Pictures didn’t do justice to those eyes.
Walker shivered as the girl held out a tiny piece of equipment—it looked almost like a data pad, except … different.
“What....” Pike tried to speak normally and gave up.
She held up one finger and then closed her eyes. Her hand clenched over the equipment—Telestine make, Walker thought, her mind still sluggish with alcohol—and slowly, it began to light up. Colors flickered over the black surface and the girl’s face screwed up in effort.
“What’s she doing?” It took Walker a couple of tries to stand up. Pike’s arm came around her side and they leaned to hold one another up.
The girl had opened her eyes. She pointed, almost pleadingly, at the equipment.
“I don’t understand,” Pike said.
It came to Walker in a flash and she pushed herself up, nearly tipping both of them over in the process.
“That’s … Telestine equipment, isn’t it?”
The girl nodded, very quickly, her eyes pleading, suggesting there was even more to the story.
Walker dropped her glass, the vodka splashing all over the carpet. “Oh my god. You think that’s Tel’rabim’s.”
The girl nodded, clearly pleased.
“So?” Pike looked affronted by his near fall.
“So she’s learning to use it. She’s learning how to connect to Tel’rabim’s technology—not just the regular Telestine shit, but Tel’rabim’s.” Walker explained patiently. She looked around herself. “We need coffee. Lots of coffee. We have a war to plan.”
Chapter Forty-One
Venus, 49 kilometers above surface
Tang Estate, New Zurich
The piece of Telestine electronics lit up again, like Christmas, and went entirely inert again a moment later. The girl gave a pleased smile and looked around at all of them.
The smile faded slightly when she saw Nhean’s face.
“It’s ... promising.” Nhean’s voice betrayed an inner struggle as he watched the girl’s demonstration. He sat back in his chair. “It has potential.”
“The question is, is that data pad from Tel’rabim’s group, or is it just regular Telestine make?” Walker said, eyes closed and rubbing her temple.
Nhean nodded. “Oh, it’s definitely from Tel’rabim’s faction. This particular piece was left behind accidentally by one of the food delivery crews Tel’rabim regularly arranges to be sent out. My tech people have tried connecting to it … to no avail.”
Pike winced. Nhean’s movement had allowed a particularly bright shaft of sunlight to find its way directly into his eyes. Thanks to a veritable cocktail of drugs, he was feeling more clear-headed every minute, but the pills didn’t so much stop inebriation as accelerate it.
Right along with the hangover. He took another gulp of water and concentrated very hard on not throwing up.
“The question, of course,” Nhean murmured, “is how we use that skill.”
“Isn’t that obvious?” Walker also looked like she was hoping for a quick death, but she was managing to sit upright, hands clenched on the arms of her chair. “She does what she did at the lunar base again.”
“She doesn’t yet have that much skill,” Nhean said flatly. He looked over to the girl. “Do you?”
She looked down, a faint flush on her cheeks, and shook her head.
“She has time between now and then to practice,” Walker insisted. “And any edge she gives us will help, especially if we catch their fleet unawares.”
“And do you know where the fleet is?” Nhean tilted his head to the side. “Do you know where we could get her access to a computer terminal? Do you have a strike team that can guard her on her way there? Her success at the lunar base was due almost entirely to the fact that Tel’rabim made her to be invisible to their military’s tech
nology. But surely she is not invisible to Tel’rabim’s technology.”
The girl looked away, and Pike felt a stab of sympathy. She had gone to the lunar base of her own free will, walked into danger to help her own kind, and they still talked about her as if she had little to do with the outcome of the last battle.
“Those are skills she can use.” Walker was clearly not going to back down from this idea. “The skill set is there, it’s just attuned to the Telestine military. If she—”
“What, rewires herself?” Nhean snapped. “She can turn this shard on and off, but that’s not part of his fleet. We have no idea if there are fail safes to keep her from doing this to his actual ships, or if the machinery is something she can control entirely on her own. We have no idea if what she just did can be used offensively. I need information on that machinery, and more importantly, I need information on what Tel’rabim is planning. He’s shut the Telestine communications military and civilian systems down entirely. There is no communication with the human stations and I have no links.”
“The Secretary General will be wondering what’s happened.” Commander Delaney’s voice was quiet. He gave a look at Walker and his lips tightened; he clearly did not approve of her condition. “We should tell him.”
“What’s the point?” Walker asked him. Her gaze, if pained, was at least clear-eyed. “There’s nothing Sokoloff can do. We don’t have the transports to get humanity off the colonies, and even if they escape the destruction there, they can’t possibly outrun the Telestine fleet. Either one.” She held up a hand to forestall Delaney’s argument. “If by some miracle they manage to escape, how long can they survive in stuffed cargo tankers? And, more importantly, where the hell do you think we’re going to run to?” she asked him.
Delaney fell silent.
“And in any case….” She took a gulp of water and her mouth twisted bitterly. “Calling him will only win us another lecture on how we’re endangering everyone. We don’t want to give him a chance to send a message to the fleet, recalling them.”
“You think they’d listen?” Pike frowned.
“It would create uncertainty. We can’t risk it—and if anyone at Mercury hears and believes him, they could sabotage the shipyards.
“The admiral is right.” Nhean’s admission was grudging; he did not look pleased. “The last thing we should do is reveal where we are and what we’re doing. Not to mention, it would create a needless panic.”
Thus spoke someone, Pike suspected, who had never lost loved ones without having a chance to say a proper goodbye. He looked down at the glass of water in his hand and scowled.
Walker reached out to tap the glass. “Keep drinking,” she murmured. “It’ll help.”
“Right.” He took a sip and tried to ignore the feeling of hopelessness. The room had sunk into silence. There was nothing to be done, clearly.
He should have stayed drunk.
“I need someone to get me one of Tel’rabim’s ships,” Nhean announced.
Everyone looked over at him.
“We have someone who can, at least, interface with them.” Nhean gestured at the girl. “She will stay here and we will assess her capabilities, and the ship should give us a window into their communications network. The pieces I already have, I am afraid—” he gave a regretful look at the shards of machinery on the desk “—are not enough.”
“We’ll go,” Walker said wearily. “I’ll take the Intrepid and—”
“No.” Pike looked up at Nhean and nodded. “I’ll go.”
“With what ship?” Walker looked at him like he was crazy.
Pike managed a lopsided smile. “I know a guy. Who knows a guy.”
The rest of the group looked unimpressed by this description.
“My ship. The Aggy.” Pike shrugged. “Rychenkov. Good captain.”
“Mr. Pike, your ship—”
“Is a cargo hauler with a well-established record.” Pike cut Nhean off. “It’s registered. It frequently passes close to the Telestine military. There won’t be any questions. It’s our best chance to get close enough to grab one of them.”
“Unless they’ve been informed by their new commander in chief that it’s open season on human ships,” Nhean said tightly.
“Any ship faces that problem now. I didn’t say it was foolproof, I said it was our best chance. And far more discreet than a military ship.”
“Pike’s right.” Walker nodded. “Pike—do you know where Rychenkov’s ship is?”
“It had a run to Mercury to deliver food and water. It might still be on its way, actually, or maybe on its way back to Ganymede.” Pike tried to do the math in his head. “I can check.”
“It’s settled, then.” Nhean did not look overly pleased with the plan. “I will forward you the most recent patrol schedules I have, some of which involve Tel’rabim’s ships, and you will begin your search. Meanwhile, we will ascertain all we can about the Dawning.”
“No.” The words were automatic. Pike looked over to meet the girl’s look of mute appeal. “She comes with us.”
“Mr. Pike—”
“For the last time, it’s Pike. And I have no intention of—” Pike bit back the words. Leaving her here with you. He did not dare look at Walker for fear of what he would see in her eyes. She could be as calculating, in her own way, as Nhean.
Pike drew an unsteady breath.
“I said we had the best chance to grab a ship, but as you said, it’s not a good one. We have no idea how far away the signal reached from the lunar base. The patrols out there could still be standard Telestine military—in which case, she’s going to be invaluable.”
Nhean considered, his fingers tapping on the desk.
“Not to mention....” Pike was warming to the theme. “If she can interface with Tel’rabim’s technology and set up an FTL information stream from the ship, you can start hacking into his systems almost immediately. You wouldn’t have to wait for us to get back.”
Nhean sighed and nodded—which was good, Pike reflected, as he had rather run out of arguments at this point.
“Fine. Get me the registry information for the ship and I’ll see what I can do. You’re sure you can get this cargo hauler to let you use the ship for this? This man, Rychenkov—will he cooperate? Cargo haulers are a rather … independent bunch.”
Pike tried not to let his face show just how much he was doubting himself on that one. Rychenkov was eminently practical, a man raised—so he said—through generations upon generations of dictators. He often opined that the best thing to do with dictators was just outlast them and not make a fuss. He was, at least, not going to be pleased by Pike’s mission. On the other hand....
“It’s the end of the world.” Pike lifted a shoulder. “It’s this or die in Tel’rabim’s sweep. I can’t imagine he’ll put up too much of a fight about it.”
Hopefully.
Nhean gave a curt nod. “Very well. Go prepare the team. Admiral, commanders—we have much to discuss while Pike and our guest are gone.”
They were clearly dismissed. Pike jerked his head at the girl—an ill-advised motion for someone in the throes of a hangover—and ushered her out before anyone could change their mind.
“What is your name?” he asked her as the door closed behind them.
She gave a shrug.
That was one of the saddest things he had ever seen—she didn’t even know her own name. He cleared his throat and tried to come up with something to say. “Well, come up with one. We can’t just call you the Dawning.”
She blinked at him and gave another helpless shrug.
“Dawn,” he decided. “For now.”
The look she gave him was not impressed.
“I never said I was clever.”
She seemed to agree with this assessment.
“You’re too kind.”
A grin was his only answer. She led him into the bustle of what had become a makeshift common area and a shout caught their attention.
&nbs
p; “Pike.” Charlie Boyd pushed his way through the crowd. “Just overheard you’re going on a mission. Some order just went out to get a ship ready?”
“It’s ... yeah. Nothing important.”
“Nothing important?” Charlie seemed incredulous. “We just took down most of their fleet. Come on, man.” He leaned close. “What’s our next move?”
“I....” Pike rubbed at his forehead. “We just need to go get a Telestine fighter. Capture one.”
“Why?” Charlie frowned.
“Well....”
“Nah, nah, you don’t have to tell me. But—can I come with you?” Charlie shook his head and looked left and right as if to make sure no one was listening. “I’m going crazy here, man. There’s nothing to do, and … you understand—it’s cramped. No sky. No solid ground. You know what I mean.”
He understood all too well. “Right. Right.” Pike nodded. “Of course. Come on, let’s get this show on the road.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Halfway between Earth and Venus
Freighter Agamemnon
It took them three days to reach the Aggy, and less than four minutes for Rychenkov to turn them down flat.
“You’re insane,” he said, by way of explanation. “You are a crazy fool, and you will die like a crazy fool.” He liked to play up his Russian accent when he was displeased, and it was now strong enough that Charlie was squinting, trying to make out the words.
As Rychenkov strode away toward the cockpit, muttering about crazy bastards who would doom themselves for lost causes, Charlie leaned over. “Is this guy for real?” He kept his voice to a murmur so as not to be overheard by the crew, who were staring at them with flat expressions.
The girl nodded to echo the question.
“Unfortunately, yes.” Pike gave a bright smile around at the crew as they trickled into the Aggy’s bay. “Hey, guys. James. Gabi. Mr. Howie Howe. Good to see you all again.”
“Hola, guapo,” said Gabriela. She brushed her purple-tinged hair aside from her cheek.
