“We made it,” Xander said. “Increasing delta-V. This is going to hurt.”
“Oh, I like it when you say that,” Athena said. “We’re starting to get hit by laser fire from the defense grid, but they are too far away for any real lasting damage.”
“Still, they’re burning off chunks of the damaged outer hull and it’s messing up my maneuvering,” Xander said. “Athena, begin to initiate outer hull separation.”
“Your kinky talk always gets me going, sugar. All systems go.”
“Run the separation sequence on my mark,” Xander said. “Now.”
The outer hull seemed to split in half as the Eon Shrike accelerated past her fake shell and quickly left it behind, like a baby bird rising from the pieces of a broken egg. Strand gritted his teeth as he was pushed back down on the padded chair, the increased gravity load making his head hurt.
Xander’s voice had turned croaky due to the high-gee acceleration. “Athena, sound off on distance to shadow zone.” He couldn’t even raise his left arm anymore, though his cybernetic right arm could still adjust the control stick.
“Estimated time of arrival at fourteen minutes,” Athena said. “Just sit back and relax, easy rider.”
“What about those lasers?”
“The defense grid is still initiating tracking fire, but due to the distances involved all they can do is put an extra load on the radiators,” Athena said.
Xander let out another groan while struggling to breathe. “That’s … what I’m worried about.”
“Easy does it, cowboy,” Athena said. “Just take it slow and easy. No other lancer missiles detected.”
“How are the radiators?”
“Close to one hundred percent heat capacity, but I’ve gone ahead and rerouted some percentages into the heatsinks,” Athena said. “You know I’ll always take care of you, sweetheart.”
A few minutes had passed, and Strand breathed a sigh of relief as the massive weight on his chest began to lessen. “Did … did we make it?”
“We sure did, handsome,” Athena said. “We’ll be initiating t-drive charging in eleven minutes, boys.”
26 The Machinations
The Executive Committee’s headquarters in Earth’s Swiss Region wasn’t as large as the nearby Senate Building, but everyone knew it held more power than any political organization in the Union. Unlike their elected counterparts, the meetings inside the Committee Building were not open to the public, and only the most powerful of the oligarchs were even invited into the Central Conference Chamber. No one in the media ever reported on the inner dealings occurring inside the marbled halls, since the corporatists controlled them as well.
Within the Central Conference Chamber, the interior consisted of a long, oval-shaped table at its center, with chairs reserved for twelve of the most powerful executive directors. The other two hundred lesser members of the Committee were permitted to sit in the higher recesses along the walls, their faces covered in shadow. These upper gallery members were not allowed to speak, but would merely observe and vote using the consoles in front of them.
Erich von Steyr suppressed the urge to fidget while sitting at the innermost table. He sat a mere two seats away from the chairman, yet the constant pauses and delays ate away at his patience. For the first time in attending more than twelve annual conferences with the inner circle, the uncertainties of recent events made him nervous. The stakes were high, and whatever happened in the next few minutes would decide his fate.
Sitting across from him were Malcolm Walden and Nilda Carerra, who happened to be his biggest rivals for the future leadership of the Committee. He had secretly agreed to an alliance with Nilda to stymie Malcolm’s plans, but he feared she could not be fully trusted. Their calm, relaxed demeanors during the conference only heightened his suspicions. If only I could read minds, he thought.
Chairman Ravinder Singh sat at the end of the oval table. As each senior member of the Committee brought up an issue, he would nod a little and pretend he was listening, but Erich could tell he was too weak to comprehend the points they were discussing. He had sported a full head of black, curly hair all those years ago, but now Ravinder had gone completely bald, his shrunken shoulders and wrinkled scalp a sure sign of his physical and mental decay.
One of the other members of the board leaned back after finishing his report. “And so that concludes the latest in our profit projections for the Orion Constellation. Back to you, Chairman.”
Ravinder’s eyes were half-open. For a long minute there was silence, and everyone waited until he spoke again. When the words came out, his feeble voice made it obvious this would be the last meeting he would chair. “Thank you, Director … Kurita. Are there … any other issues we need to discuss before … this annual conference is concluded?”
The golden-skinned synthetic woman sitting to Erich’s right tilted her head up. “That would conclude all the scheduled points for this final day, Chairman.”
“Thank you, Madam Secretary,” Ravinder said. “Now it is time for me to add one last thing before we initiate the closing ceremonies of this conference. As you all know … my advanced years have made it a chore for me just to get from one place to another.”
Erich clenched his jaw while inputting commands on his wrist smartcom underneath the table. Here it comes.
“Therefore, I am resigning my position as chairman of the board,” Ravinder said softly while looking at the gathered faces around the table. “I have served as chairman for nearly a hundred years, right at the close of the Border Wars … and I have succeeded in not just keeping the peace with our rivals in the Concordance, but I have also helped to engineer an economic revival for the Union.”
Erich continued sending silent messages to his allies up in the gallery. He had no doubt the others sitting at the table beside him were doing the same. You fools better nominate me, or I’ll see to it that each and every one of you gets ruined.
“All of these achievements happened because of hard work, and playing the game of politics and profit,” Ravinder said. “This shall be my legacy, and I hope the future chairperson will continue the progress we have made.”
Erich glanced up at Malcolm and Nilda, and their own faces were downcast, which meant they were also in communication with their allies up above. If I had a weapon, I’d shoot you both right now, he thought. The chairmanship is mine!
Ravinder tilted his head sideways and nodded at the synthetic woman. “Madam Secretary, as of the end of this meeting, I am hereby resigning my position.”
No one uttered a sound. They had all known it would happen well in advance, and everyone hunched over their consoles, their fingers hovering over the upcoming choices to succeed him.
The secretary nodded. “Certainly, Mr. Chairman. Your resignation has been accepted with extreme regret. You shall be honored for your many years of service.” She turned her head and looked at each of the other people sitting at the table. “The nominations for a new chairman shall begin immediately. Please use the consoles in front of you to nominate any member of this committee … now.”
Erich bit his lip as he immediately picked his name on the holographic ballot and voted for himself. In less than a minute four names rapidly ascended above the rest as the votes were automatically tabulated.
“Interesting count,” the secretary said. “We do not have a clear majority for any one member. Four executive directors are eligible for a run-off vote. Directors Walden, Carerra, Kurita, and von Steyr have been chosen for the second round of voting. Begin … now.”
Erich gritted his teeth while looking up at the people half-hidden in shadow above him. He had spent the last few nights holding secret meetings with as many of the lesser Committee members as he could, using everything from promises to threats to convince them to vote for him. Everything hung in the balance, with a mere few seconds to decide it all.
The secretary tabulated all the votes once more. “Of the four candidates in the run-off vote, Director Malcolm
Walden is the winner, but he does not have a substantial majority.” The synthetic looked up at Malcolm. “Do you wish to hold a recess before the Committee votes again?”
Malcolm coughed while raising his hand. “If I may, Madam Secretary, I would like to suggest a postponement of the next round of voting for one week.”
Ravinder leaned forward, placing his withered hands on the table. “One week is a long time. Are you sure you don’t want to … delay the vote just a few hours to try and cobble a majority alliance together while everyone is still present?”
“The reason I would like the delay is because of some news I’m expecting,” Malcolm said. “Once I get the information and confirm it, I can make it go public.”
Ravinder nodded slowly. “It must be some … very important news if you wish it to go public.”
“It is,” Malcolm said. “Once I present it, I’m sure everyone will see my point of view.”
Nilda raised her hand. “I second the motion for a one-week postponement.”
“Very well,” the secretary said. “All those in favor, please input your vote.”
The results were near unanimous. Erich breathed a sigh of relief. The position of chairman needed to have a clear majority in order to be able to push through any agenda without internal opposition. Now he had some breathing room.
“The postponement has been approved,” the secretary said. “The voting will recommence one week from now. The current position of chairman will remain open for the time being. Meeting is adjourned.”
As the executives began filling out into the plush corridor, Nilda caught up to Erich while touching his arm. “Well done, Erich,” she said. “I was unsure about a few of our lesser members, but you pulled in enough votes to stifle Malcolm’s expected majority.”
“Malcolm missed the clear majority count by a mere three votes,” Erich said. “He was so close, I’m surprised he asked for a one-week delay. He could have just banged heads with Kurita’s coalition to get what he needed.”
Nilda smiled. “You don’t know him like I do. Malcolm doesn’t want to win the chairmanship by a hair’s breadth. He wants to dominate the voting. Chairman Ravinder Singh won his position by unanimous vote, that’s why he lasted as long as he did.”
“We all want that, obviously,” Erich said. “But I would have taken a close one just to get the chairmanship. I’d deal with the others later on.”
“That’s where you and Malcolm differ,” Nilda said. “He wants it all at once, you’re willing to gain it a little at a time.”
Erich looked into her deep brown eyes. “And where do you come in, my dear Nilda?”
She laughed. “I’ll take any which way. So where is your ever-present assistant?”
“Hassan Obi? He has some personal matters to attend to. He’ll be back soon to meet up with your counterpart.”
“Good,” Nilda said. “There have been some updates with regard to the ship deployments your team proposed. My personal assistant would like to go through them with him.”
Erich nodded. “I’ll let Hassan know.”
She patted his arm again before turning around. “Excellent, Erich. I knew I could count on you. Let’s meet for dinner later to discuss a permanent alliance. I had my chef flown in and he’s preparing a lavish banquet at my villa.”
“I’ll do that,” Erich said. “See you later.”
Erich made his way onto another level of the sprawling building, going through a series of doors manned by security robots until he entered a near empty private lounge overlooking Lake Geneva. A middle-aged but fit-looking man wearing the midnight-blue and gold colors of a Star Force officer’s uniform got up from a plush chair and walked over to him.
Fleet Commander Duc “Duke” Tran had the instinctive urge to salute a superior, but he managed to restrain himself when his mind told him the director wasn’t part of the military’s chain of command. He held out his hand instead. “Director von Steyr. Thank you for seeing me.”
Erich shook his hand. “Fleet Commander Tran, I’d like to ask you a general question.”
“Fire away, sir,” Tran said.
“Why is it that Star Force officers go by ranks like commander instead of say … a captain, like our civilians do when commanding a starship?”
“It comes from our history, sir,” Tran said. “The Star Force didn’t descend from old Earth navies. Instead our origins lay in their respective aerospace forces, and they were called spacecraft commanders back then. Different ranking system compared to the ancient seagoing units.”
“I see,” Erich said. “So instead of a ship’s captain, I would refer to one as a ship commander instead?”
Tran nodded. “Correct, sir. My rank in the old navies would have been admiral, but with the Star Force it’s fleet commander instead.”
Erich winked at him. “I understand it now, yet you still refer to your spacecrafts as ships, right?”
Tran blushed slightly. “That’s correct, sir. Unfortunately even our traditions couldn’t stop popular culture, and so we gave in and started calling our vessels ships instead of spacecraft. We did manage to keep our ranking system though.”
“Good for you. These pirates though, they sure went back to the old ways, didn’t they?”
“I’m afraid they have, sir,” Tran said. “This is the reason I wanted to meet you. I have personally set up a task force and will lead them against the Nepenthe. With your intel, these bandit scum are as good as dead.”
“A lot of people have predicted their demise for a long, long time,” Erich said. “Yet they’re still around.”
“This time they won’t win,” Tran said. “The new Matador-class cruisers will make short work of them. If we can just pinpoint their location, I promise you they’ll be defeated.”
Erich crossed his arms. “This had better work, Fleet Commander. For your sake. Failure isn’t an option.”
Tran clenched his jaw. “I know the stakes, sir. I’m with you all the way, provided they show up at the location you gave me.”
“They will,” Erich said. “My operative infected their AI. That should make your mission even easier. I want you to capture the Nepenthe if you can. There’s an asset I need to get back.”
“Subject Zero. Yes, sir—I was briefed by your assistant,” Tran said. “But I must tell you—they may not want to be taken alive.”
“Do what you can,” Erich said. “If you can get Subject Zero back, there’ll be no limit to how high your career can go. Think of what kind of prestige you’ll have if you can bring those bastards in for a trial. But if the Nepenthe gives you too much trouble, then just go ahead and destroy her. Kill them all and let the antecessors sort it out.”
27 Marvels and Mysteries
Duncan Hauk blinked his eyes open and found himself strapped down on a long, reclined chair made of fused gray metal. The walls of the room were made of the same half-melted material, giving the whole place a disquieting effect. The air stank of chlorine and made him cough a little. He had been stripped of his hard suit, and his body was still wet with traces of bio-gel.
The boy pushed his head up and looked around. Maeve was lying nearby, restrained on a similar-looking slab. She had also been stripped of her suit and seemed to be unconscious.
“Maeve,” Hauk said. “Are you okay?”
The teenage girl’s eyes remained closed, though she began to stir.
Hauk kept at it. “Maeve, wake up, please!”
Maeve let out a short whimper but her eyes remained closed.
The curving walls around them were mostly shrouded in shadow, and someone emerged out of a half-hidden alcove. When Duncan turned his head to take a look, he let out an audible gasp.
The person shuffling behind him looked like an emaciated woman; her bulging, bloodshot eyes and blank stare marked her as a symbiote host. The close-cropped matted hair on her head seemed to meld with the dark tattoos on her neck and bare shoulders. She was dressed in a loose, simple gray overall, and Hauk coul
d see the obvious bulge on her upper back. The woman held up a scrawny arm, her spiderlike fingers tapping on a wrist device.
Hauk heard the whooshing sound of a doorway being opened. Straining his neck the other way, he just had time to see two more humans and an xtid making their way inside. He tried to struggle against both the arm and leg restraints, but to no avail.
The xtid shuffled along until it stood over him, the alien’s head almost touching the curved ceiling above. The accent coming out of its starfish-shaped mouth had a combination of clicks and syrupy gurgles. “So one of our unauthorized guests is awake.” The xtid turned towards the woman keeping watch. “Leave us, slave.”
The woman made a slight bow before limping away past the door. Another whooshing noise told of her departure from the room.
“Since you are unlawful intruders, you shall refer to me as the Arbiter,” the xtid said. “There is no need for me to tell you my true name, but I shall ask what is yours.”
Hauk kept quiet.
One of the other humans positioned himself across the other side of the chair Hauk was lying in. Like the slave woman, he too bore the signs of being a host. The man wore a uniform made from material resembling blackened fish scales, suggesting a higher position in whatever organization they all belonged to. Unlike the slave’s pitiful stare, this man’s eyes seemed more focused. “You had better answer him truthfully, boy. You would not like to be subjected to our interrogation techniques.”
Feeling he had nothing left to lose, Hauk answered them. “Duncan Hauk.”
“That’s better,” the Arbiter said. “What were you doing in the quarantine zone?”
“We’re miners,” Hauk said, before glancing over to Maeve. “My sister and me, we’re just p-prospecting for minerals.”
Unlike humans, the Arbiter wasn’t capable of any facial expressions, though the xtid did fold two of his rangy arms together in a negative gesture. “You’re lying. The mining consortium has disavowed your permits, and your group went into the quarantine zone despite warnings expressly forbidding it.”
Nepenthe Rising (Stars in Shadow Book 1) Page 28
