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

by Nick Webb

  “Hey, man.” Howie smiled warmly, creasing the tattoo of Earth covering his left temple. The others followed suit.

  James tipped his hat. “Good to see you, cowboy.”

  Pike turned back to Charlie and Dawn. “Look, you two stay here.” He held out a hand to keep the girl back. “I’ll ... go talk to Rychenkov.”

  “Better call him captain when he’s in this mood,” Howie offered.

  “Thanks.” Pike tried not to think about the yelling that was about to happen.

  “And if you think he’s going to kill you, try to make it down here so we can all watch.”

  “Sure.” Pike hightailed it out of the docking bay and up the narrow flight of stairs to the cockpit.

  Rychenkov was in the copilot’s chair, reassembling a rifle. He did not look up when Pike appeared in the doorway.

  “Captain Rychenkov.”

  Rychenkov’s hands slowed on the gun for a moment. He still did not look up.

  With a sigh, Pike dropped into the pilot’s chair.

  “You come onto my ship and take the pilot’s chair like that? Who do you think you are?” Rychenkov shot him a look with those trademark pale eyes.

  “Just hear me out.”

  “No.” Rychenkov jabbed his finger into the air for emphasis. “It’s a crazy plan. I don’t make crazy plans.”

  “You love crazy plans,” Pike corrected him.

  “Since when?”

  “Since three years ago at least.” Pike raised his eyebrows.

  Three years ago, Rychenkov had been the mastermind behind a plan that took down one of the main drug cartels running between Mars and a remote lab in the asteroid belt. The plan had involved three decoy ships, a computer virus, and a painted goat, and if Pike hadn’t seen it himself, he would think the whole thing was a bald-faced lie.

  It was crazy, and it had worked.

  Now, however, the captain of the Aggy only gave an elaborate shrug. “That is different.” His voice was fairly dripping with the accent. “Those were humans. Humans have the same weapons. The fuggers are different. They can shoot us out of the sky: one, two, three, go home for dinner.”

  “And they do,” Pike said, with a sudden burst of inspiration.

  “You’re shit at negotiating, you know that?”

  Pike only grinned. He hadn’t been told to leave yet, and no one had taken a knife out. He was doing pretty well, by his estimation. “It doesn’t make you mad that they treat us like this?”

  “I’ve told you about this.” Rychenkov gave him a look. He finished cleaning one piece of the rifle and set it aside carefully before picking up the next. The rifle, like everything on the Aggy—except the propulsion system and the inertial dampeners—was old, low-tech, and scrupulously maintained by Rychenkov himself. It had taken him eight years to find a mechanic he trusted, and Howie still complained that Rychenkov checked his work every night before letting him go off-shift.

  “So, tell me again.” Spacers liked to talk. Pike had learned to let them.

  Rychenkov scowled. “You too stupid to remember? You don’t fight dictators, durak. You wait them out. They get their palaces and their women—” He stopped, struck by this. “You think they take our women?”

  “They aren’t interested in our women,” Pike said wearily. “And it’s not a palace, it’s our planet.”

  “Don’t interrupt, it’s rude.”

  Pike narrowly refrained from rolling his eyes.

  “They get everything they want,” Rychenkov continued. He gestured with a metal brush. “And then they piss off one too many people and someone kills them in the night.”

  “Yeah, but then what?”

  Rychenkov shrugged. “Then there is another dictator. And while he consolidates his grip, we stay under the radar and get our shit done.”

  Pike was opening his mouth to retort when he realized that this was, in fact, an eerily accurate read on their present situation. He blinked and scratched at his head.

  “We don’t want another dictator,” he tried.

  “It is the way of things,” Rychenkov advised him. “You stand up, you get crushed like a bug. Best just to live your life, da? Enjoy the little things?”

  Pike sank his head into his hands.

  “Cheer up, durak. Someday you will die, and this will not trouble you anymore.”

  “You have a way with people, my friend.” Pike picked his head up. “Is anyone listening to us?”

  Rychenkov’s hands paused on the rifle. He considered Pike for a moment before reaching out to press a button. The door slid closed.

  “Not anymore.” The accent was fading, and Rychenkov gave him a serious look. “What’s your secret, then?”

  “We’re screwed,” Pike told him simply. “Totally, one hundred percent, anally screwed.”

  “Who’d you piss off?” Rychenkov finished the cleaning and started reassembling the pieces. “You piss off the fuggers and then come here?”

  “Well....” He had, but not quite the way Rychenkov meant. Pike held up his hands. “They’re not coming for us.”

  “They’d better not be.” Rychenkov peered down the barrel.

  “They’re coming for everyone.”

  Rychenkov stopped. “How?”

  “You were right about another dictator. There was a coup. A Telestine coup.”

  “Oh?” Rychenkov looked interested. “Lots of dead Telestines. You see? It all comes around in the end.”

  “They still have Earth,” Pike reminded him. “And the guy who took over thinks that humanity is just too much of a pain in the ass to keep around.”

  “So, what—he comes to kill all of us?” Rychenkov gave a snort of laughter. When he saw Pike’s face, the smile died slowly. “No. There are too many of us. They did not before—why now?”

  “Does it really matter? He’s right. We never stopped planning to take Earth back. We’re too dangerous to keep around.”

  Rychenkov stared at him for a long time, his eyes narrowed. “That’s what this is,” he said finally. “You did piss the fuggers off. That mission you were on, you showed your hand, now they think all humans are part of the Rebellion and they crush us all. This is your fault, you and your ridiculous Exile Fleet.”

  “No,” Pike said desperately. “Things would have gotten to this point eventually, in any case. I swear. This guy has been planning it for ... forever. He made a weapon to take down their military’s fleet, and he has his own fleet.”

  “You get off my ship.” Rychenkov’s voice was ugly. “Off my ship, Pike. You have an hour before I airlock you, you hear? You get us all crushed. It is always the same with revolutionaries, they think of no one else but their ideals.”

  The door slid open, and he turned with an oath.

  The girl stared at him quietly. She had climbed the stairs without a sound, barefoot on the metal.

  Rychenkov stared at her. “Who the hell is this?”

  “This is....” Pike looked down at his hands. It was useless.

  The touch on his shoulder was light. The girl looked down at him and nodded at Rychenkov.

  “It’s not going to make any difference,” Pike warned her.

  She shrugged.

  “Fine.” He looked back at his one-time captain. “She was raised in the labs. Telestine labs. You see those scars? The guy who took over, he designed her to take down their fleet, to interface with their technology. She’s going to learn how to disable his systems, too—that’s why we need the fighter.”

  “So she came out of some lab? A Drone?” Rychenkov looked worried.

  “She’s not one of the—” Pike waved his hands. “Look. We gave him an excuse, but he didn’t need one. He controls them now—their military, even their government, I think, and he wants us all dead. Running’s gonna get you a couple of weeks, tops.”

  Rychenkov considered. His gaze went back to the girl. “He telling the truth?” he demanded.

  She nodded.

  “You don’t talk, huh?”
/>   A head shake.

  “Any reason for that?”

  She shrugged.

  Rychenkov considered. “Fine,” he said savagely. “But I am not happy about this.”

  “I’m not happy about it, either,” Pike offered.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Rychenkov paused. “So where are we going?”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Halfway between Earth and Venus

  Freighter Agamemnon

  Pike eased the Aggy along from the comfort of the co-pilot’s chair, eyeing the Telestine formation warily. Fly casual, Rychenkov had told him. What the hell did that mean?

  He’d spent his years after Earth on the right side of the law, filling out registration forms and making sure his ships followed the prescribed routes, but every time he saw a Telestine patrol appear outside his ship, he was sure they would find out his history—that he’d escaped from right under their noses. You never lost your instinctive fear at the sight of those ships. The black hulls were jarring on Earth, and even more terrifying in deep space. You could hardly see them: little shadows blocking out the stars as they moved, an absence of light.

  Today, they were accompanied by three feathers. Not a single one broke formation as the Aggy came out of hard burn on their tail and fell into line.

  “We should go.” Charlie’s voice was tight. “This is too risky.”

  Rychenkov threw an annoyed look over his shoulder and Pike was hard pressed not to do the same. Charlie had been melting down since he found out the details of the plan a few hours ago. In the past five minutes alone, he had accused them all of being crazy, he had suggested that they should contact the admiral for an alternate plan, and he hadn’t once stopped fiddling with the pen he carried with him. A good luck charm, he said.

  Weak, Rychenkov called him to his face, and from the look in his eyes, he’d finally had enough of this.

  “Get out of my cockpit.” His accent was back, and strong.

  Charlie opened his mouth to protest, saw the evident unity in the rest of the crew, and visibly deflated. He left with a clatter on the grating.

  Only the girl hadn’t looked at him. Pike turned his head to watch her. Dawn. She might laugh, but the name suited her: the silent, pale pause before morning’s fire in the sky, eyes black as night.

  Right now, she was furious. Those black eyes were fixed on the Telestine ships with a simmering anger that told Pike this was not a woman to cross. Wherever she had been raised, she would never forgive Tel’rabim for what he had made her.

  It occurred to Pike now that she was the most human of all of them. She was human by instinct alone.

  “All right. Last chance to call it off.” Rychenkov looked around at all of them. He locked eyes with each of the crew first. James and Gabriela Carson. Howie. Finally Pike. That had been one of his stipulations: they say no deal, then no deal.

  Pike couldn’t tell if Rychenkov was surprised or not when the crew agreed.

  “We’re with you cowboy,” said James, tapping his hat. Howie nodded his agreement.

  “I’m with guapo,” said Gabriela.

  From her place in the copilot’s seat, the girl drew the shard of Telestine technology out of her bag. It gleamed black in the dim light of the cockpit, and everyone leaned forward to watch. Pike heard Howie catch his breath.

  “What is that?” Charlie’s eyes grew wide. He held up his hands when Rychenkov swung around, startled to see he’d returned. “I won’t ... freak out. But what’s that?” His voice changed. “Is that the Dawning?”

  Pike didn’t answer. It was close enough, and he didn’t want to disturb Charlie’s near-reverence. He nodded to the girl.

  The pads of her fingers spread onto the surface of the machinery and the light began, but she didn’t even look. Her eyes were fixed on the ships in front of her as her fingers moved. She drew them independently of one another, reminding Pike of a video he’d once seen—a piano concert from a time when humanity had more space than it knew what to do with. She moved as if the shattered piece of a computer she cradled in her hands was an extension of her.

  Maybe to her, it was.

  The ship shuddered. In the video screen, Pike watched the cargo claw begin to extend and splay.

  The last ship drifted out of formation slowly. There was a faint tip-tilt, and a few seconds later it had gone noticeably off course. The girl drew a deep breath and pressed her fingers down onto the computer, hard.

  The black ships lifted and scattered into a defensive formation, and the feathers began to turn. They were on to them.

  “Now,” Pike said. His fingers were white-knuckled against the chair.

  Rychenkov slammed his hand down on the EMP button. It was the only weapon the cargo ships had, passed secretly among them, entirely forbidden. Since humanity had learned to shield itself from EMP, they had done everything in their power to keep this one piece of defense hidden.

  Light flickered across the hulls of the feathers and they went dead on their trajectory. Pike had a visceral moment of horror, thinking of the pilots trapped in ships gone dead. What did it feel like, if they interacted with the machinery as instinctively as the girl did?

  They were his enemies, he reminded himself. Enemies. And the effect of the EMP wouldn’t last more than a few minutes—the Telestine’s electronics seemed to be … self-healing.

  The Aggy put on speed and banked expertly. Rychenkov snatched a dead ship out of the vacuum and was already accelerating as the claw began to retract.

  “I’ll take care of the pilot.” Pike’s stomach heaved—he had never liked killing—but this felt like his task somehow.

  He did not want to consider the idea that he’d been looking forward to another round since he killed the first Telestine a few weeks back. He tried to keep from remembering how it felt to feel the body go still beneath him. So many years of anger to channel into violence.

  So many lives to pay back.

  “Pike. Pike.” Charlie was hurrying after him.

  “What?” Pike did not look back.

  “It’s her, isn’t it?” Charlie grabbed his arm to swing him around. “She’s the Dawning. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Pike wanted to laugh. “It must have slipped my mind,” he said shortly. What with all the genocide.

  “She’s....” Charlie shook his head. “And she’s really helping us?”

  “Look.” Pike resisted the urge to shove the man out of the way. “I have a pilot to kill before he manages to get his gun out.”

  “Right. Right.” Charlie stepped back. “I’ll ... better you than me.” He looked faintly queasy.

  “Go sit,” Pike advised. “And hold on. I’m pretty sure we’ll be burning back to Venus as hard as we can.”

  “Of course.” Charlie shook his head. “I’ll, uh, go see if Rychenkov needs any help.”

  That might help Rychenkov’s opinion of the man. Pike made a mental note to drop a quiet word to Rychenkov about Charlie’s family. He knew there would be bluster—world doesn’t stop when people die—but he also knew Rychenkov would go easier on the man. Rychenkov was that kind of captain.

  The Telestine ship sat on the floor of the cargo bay, tilted awkwardly on one side. Pike readied himself, knife in hand, and when someone touched his arm, he jumped and swore.

  The girl bit her lip and looked away, trying not to see his evident embarrassment. She plucked the knife out of his hand and put it back in the sheath, and crossed the floor to open the fighter’s cockpit with a press on some hidden button.

  There was no pilot.

  “Are all of them remotely guided?” Pike asked. His heart was pounding with relief.

  She shrugged and went to drag Nhean’s computer terminal across the floor.

  Pike had gone to help her when the ship gave a sideways lurch and acceleration drove him to his knees.

  “Everyone hold on down there.” Rychenkov’s voice blared over the loudspeakers. “We’ve got company. Big company.”

  Chapter Forty
-Four

  Halfway between Earth and Venus

  Freighter Agamemnon

  The Aggy had no weaponry beyond its tiny EMP generator. No guns, no cannons, no laser arrays. All it had was raw acceleration, and Rychenkov had made sure it had that in abundance. The only drawback to raw acceleration was that the inertial dampeners could barely keep up. Well, that and the nasty drug cocktail that prevented them all from vomiting and collapsing in the intense vertigo.

  “Telestine cruiser just popped up out of nowhere, seems like. Probably running dark, dead in space. Is now accelerating to match our course,” came Rychenkov’s voice through the comm.

  “How long?”

  “Fifteen minutes?”

  Pike shook his head, trying to force his way through the vertigo. “Ok. I’ll get her linked into this fighter. Hopefully by then she’ll have learned enough about them to … do … something.”

  “And Pike, that’s not all. There’s a Telestine formation that just left Earth and is heading to us. If that first ship doesn’t catch us, those bastards will. Whatever she got up her sleeve, now’s the time.”

  Pike managed a grim grunt. “Got it.”

  The acceleration made him feel like he was moving through molasses, and the inertial dampeners were beginning to cause the faintest bit of nausea. But at least he wasn’t goo. He shuddered to think what would happen if the dampeners suddenly gave out, or even momentarily blipped. One blip, and they’d all be smears on the wall.

  He crawled across the cargo bay floor with a fair amount of effort and locked his fingers around the handle of the second computer terminal. The girl looked at him woozily. They hauled it over; it seemed heavier than it should be, or maybe that was them being heavier than they should be … somehow everything was heavy sideways, with a strong pull toward the floor. When they pushed the computer terminal into place at last, they were both panting like they’d been running sprints.

  “I have to—” Pike looked slowly up to the bridge. Gesturing seemed like a lot of effort right now. So did talking.

  Her hand clamped around his arm. She shook her head. She looked at the computer terminal and then the Telestine fighter.