Vengeance (Warships of the Spire Book 1)

by Lisa Blackwood

  Renee’s bright blue eyes bored into her until sweat beaded along Liv’s back. Had she done something to raise Renee’s suspicions? Had Renee always been suspicious of her?

  But Renee finally blinked and offered her a small smile. “All AIs dream of finding a telepath who’s one hundred percent compatible with them. If they can, another possibility comes into play for that telepath. At the moment of her death, if she’s willingly linked with him, he can imprint her thoughts, memories, and essence, and when she wakes, she will be an AI like him. The gift of true immortality. But it takes absolute trust and love to give yourself up like that. That’s the one thing I couldn’t give Ven.”

  “Absolute trust,” Liv whispered back.

  How could any human trust an AI enough to allow it to have that much control over her mind? Because ultimately, the one thing humans had that even the most powerful AI did not was free will, and the process involved surrendering it to become part of the hive-mind.

  But what Renee had left out was that once the telepath became an AI, she had the potential to develop into one of the powerful AI mothers who then created the other AIs. Since a new Spire queen only came into being every thousand years or so, it was the one limiting factor holding back the Spire Empire from expanding exponentially. When the first AIs rebelled against their human masters, the resulting war had been catastrophic, so humans had stopped building AIs millennia ago. The Empire depended on Spire queens now to provide new AIs who worked with humans instead of for them.

  “At most, I have ten more years as a viable link,” Renee said. “Then my power will start to fade. Vengeance knows his time to find a new link is limited, but the prideful old fool is as stubborn as me. He doesn’t bother to search for new link candidates and rejects anyone I pick out for him.”

  “Um…” Liv answered. “I’m sorry?” Really, what else could she say? She still had no idea what Renee wanted with her, and it wasn’t like a Journeyman Engineer could find a suitable link replacement for an AI.

  Renee tilted her head at Liv and sighed. “I’ve been distancing myself from Vengeance, a little at a time, as much as the link allows, hoping he’d get lonely and seek out companionship. Once I’m gone, he’ll need someone to be there for him until he finally picks a new link.”

  “Okay,” Liv said slowly. “But if you have concerns about what Vengeance will do ten years from now, don’t you think you should speak with one of the Master-level engineers? They might know what to do…” Liv stopped talking and pressed her lips together as she realized that was exactly why she was here.

  “You’re so earnest,” Renee insisted. “You’re perfect for him.”

  “I… What? No!” Liv protested.

  “Not as a lover,” Renee quickly assured her. “I just mean as a friend, Olivia. Vengeance will need that. Really, he just needs someone who will be there for him when I’m no longer around… at least until he finds a new link.”

  “But that’s ten years from now!” Liv exclaimed. “He can easily find a new link in that amount of time.”

  Liv pressed her lips together again and blushed. She hadn’t meant to insult the poor woman by suggesting she could easily be replaced, but there was no way Liv could become Ven’s friend as the older woman prepared herself to die. Her chance of discovery was already too high.

  And besides, being around Ven’s drone all the time would serve as a constant reminder of the life she’d been meant to have but had been stolen from her.

  But if Renee had been offended by her unintended implication she was replaceable, the older woman didn’t let on. “Vengeance and I found each other under strange circumstances. Before me, it took Ven an average of twenty years to settle on a new link-level telepath. It will take more than ten years to find a compatible new link for an AI as stubborn as Vengeance. Actually, he had one, but…”

  Liv flinched, and Renee trailed off, those vibrant blue eyes boring into her yet again. When Renee spoke, her voice had shifted slightly, just enough to make that cold sweat break out along Liv’s forehead. “I should already have another link-level telepath serving as my apprentice. But Fate was cruel, as she often is to Ven. Twenty-one years ago, Vengeance lost the telepathic child who would have been his new link. Perhaps you’ve heard about the disaster on Nualla?”

  Liv nodded in confirmation then thought she should say something but what? She opened her mouth, and a small chirping noise escaped instead of the words she’d intended. Mortified, she just closed her mouth again and decided she’d forever be humiliating herself in front of one of her childhood idols.

  Renee lifted an eyebrow at her. “She was only seven years old but already more powerful than I was at twenty-five. The Spire had started a new branch of its telepath breeding program on Nualla, and the resulting young telepaths were powerful… unlike any telepaths that had existed before. Vengeance was in the first group of warships the Spire had approached about the program. He was asked to select a fetus still in her artificial womb, and the program would begin grooming her to become his link. Between missions, and when his patrols allowed, he would return to Nualla to check on the girl’s progress and spend time with her. He only managed a few days each month, but it was enough for her to capture his heart. That girl had him completely wrapped around her little finger. One time, she managed to override three of his sentinels and had them sitting around the table playing tea party with her. Vengeance was delighted. Security and maintenance were horrified.”

  Liv’s stomach heaved uneasily. The story Renee so casually retold was just an amusing story to the link, but to Liv, it was one of her favorite memories from a time before she knew pain, and fear, and crippling heartache. As soon as Ven’s drone found her at the table, with his sentinels jammed into chairs that were really too small for their large bodies, he tried to scold her, but he’d been smiling the whole time. And she turned a mischievous grin on him and told him she’d saved him a cup but the fake-tea was getting cold so he’d better sit down and drink it.

  The drone sat down and pretended to drink the tea.

  “There was an incident,” Renee said, her voice cutting through Liv’s memories. “The Spire covered it up so fear wouldn’t spread. The official reports called it an accident, but I was there. It wasn’t an accident that burned every living thing on that planet to ash. It was an attack. Vengeance managed to fight his way free and saved many of his crew that day.”

  “I sort of remember hearing about that,” Liv lied. She had no idea if her voice sounded as steady as she hoped. She didn’t feel steady at all.

  “Poor Vengeance was devastated by the child’s death. For days, I worried he might self-terminate. I think that child had the potential to be his final link, and he knew it, too. Her loss nearly destroyed him. And he knows he’ll lose me in the not-so-distant future, as an AI measures time. Now he fears to let anyone else get close to him again.”

  She hated abandoning Ven, but what else could she do? If she agreed to become his friend to help him cope with Renee’s death, she was agreeing to her own death.

  No one—not even Ven—would enter her mind again.

  “I’m really not qualified for this,” Liv pleaded. “There are so many people aboard. I’m sure you can find someone who would be a better fit… older and more experienced in interacting with him.”

  “That’s why you’d make a perfect friend for Ven.”

  “Are we speaking the same language? I would be a disaster!” Liv shouted. As soon as the words left her mouth, she closed her eyes and waited for Ven’s sentinels to return to throw her in the brig. Disrespecting a senior crew member was a good way to end up there, and her tone and choice of words had certainly conveyed just how disrespectful she was being.

  But Renee didn’t call for Ven’s sentinels. “See? This is exactly why I’m choosing you, Liv. You’ll need to stand up to Ven from time to time.” Liv opened her eyes and caught the older woman smiling at her. “We’ll have to hoodwink Vengeance at first. We’ll pretend you’re
my new young friend, and that I’m the one who needed a daughter-figure in my life. We’ll gradually make Ven more dependent on you, which, seeing how much he talks about his newest engineer, shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “I don’t want to,” Liv said weakly. But that was a lie, wasn’t it? Vengeance was the first mind to have touched hers, and almost all her happy memories from childhood were with her playmate, a legendary Warship of the Spire.

  She did miss him. She’d loved him and trusted him with the complete devotion and faith so unique to children. But she was no longer a child.

  “Do you know how often Vengeance assigns tasks directly to his new engineers?” Renee asked.

  Liv shook her head. She’d never thought to ask. She’d assumed her hectic workload was normal for new grunts.

  “Maybe three times a week,” Renee explained. “The rest of the time, he communicates needs to the senior officers, and they assign workloads as they deem necessary.”

  “You mean Vengeance doesn’t ping their quarters at all hours of the day and night to notify them of new tasks?”

  Renee’s smile faltered. “He doesn’t allow you a full sleep-cycle’s rest?”

  Liv shuffled her weight nervously and lied again. “He usually allows me the required time. I was exaggerating a little.”

  The last thing she needed was for the older telepath to start digging into why Vengeance was constantly notifying her of new tasks he wanted completed.

  “I respect Vengeance, and I’m proud to be one of his crew,” Liv hastily added. “It’s just… he can be intimidating, and… well, you want the truth? He can be demanding as all hell. And your request is a rather large, unexpected surprise.”

  A rustling in the hedges behind the gazebo told both women Ven was returning. Liv would have bet exactly fifteen minutes had passed. She was certain Vengeance had been counting the seconds.

  Renee straightened and forced a smile. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I’m rushing you. Take your time to process this. Ven and I aren’t going anywhere, and neither are you, judging by the way Ven sings your praises every chance he gets.”

  Liv forced herself to smile back at Vengeance’s link, who was asking her to do the unthinkable: risk blowing the cover that had allowed her to return to Ven’s service without sacrificing her independence, and more importantly, her mind. “Well, I’m sure Vengeance will get bored with watching me work.”

  At least, she hoped he would grow bored with her, because if he didn’t, if Renee continued to insist on this friendship, her time aboard Vengeance could be coming to an end.

  Chapter Eight

  Vengeance emerged from the line of fruit trees and scanned the orchard for Liv then realized he’d searched for the young woman before his best friend of two hundred and fifty years. Looking away from Liv, he kept his focus on Renee, who approached him and put her hand on his arm, smiling innocently up at him as if she hadn’t just embarrassed him and sent him away.

  “It’s all right, Ven. Liv and I finished our talk.”

  Vengeance crossed his arms over his chest and grunted. When Renee proposed having a little time alone to speak with Liv, he’d pretended his feelings were hurt and that he needed to stick around for his link’s safety. Neither ploy had worked. Renee knew him too well to believe his reactions had anything to do with bruised feelings or even her wellbeing—it was curiosity.

  He hated curiosity—not knowing the answer to a mystery. When Renee had proposed making Liv his new lover, he’d analyzed the possibility that her suggestion was genuine but determined the likelihood was less than two percent before she reached the end of her sentence. It was an obvious tactic to throw him off the trail. But her exact reasons for wanting to talk with Liv were as yet undetermined.

  None of Renee’s chemical markers or physiological responses betrayed even a hint of the reason for her interest in the young engineer.

  But, upon further reflection, the most probable reason was rather simple: Renee was the one who was lonely and wanted a human friend. He certainly couldn’t blame her. She spent most of her time with him, and although he tried to understand every experience she shared with him, there were so many things he couldn’t comprehend because of what he was.

  “This is about you, isn’t it?” he asked Renee. “Not me. You need companionship from someone of the same sex and species.”

  Renee snorted and rolled her eyes. “Sometimes, I really do feel like I’m talking to a computer.”

  “I’m not a computer,” he pointed out.

  “Then stop talking like one,” she teased.

  Ven let his arms fall by his sides and sighed loudly. “Would you just acknowledge that I’m right?”

  “This is driving you crazy, isn’t it?” Liv asked.

  Ven glanced at her and tried to affect an air of nonchalance. “Statistically, there’s only a .003% chance of my behavior resembling anything ‘crazy.’”

  “Statistically,” Liv laughed, “what are your chances of grasping sarcasm and euphemisms? Because if you can’t get either, this friendship will never work.”

  “With Renee?” he clarified.

  “Um…” His journeyman engineer lowered her eyes, and he was sure she blushed.

  “Renee…” Ven said sternly. “What is going on?”

  “Nothing,” she answered, her voice still oozing a fake innocence he’d been able to see through for over two centuries. “Like you said: Sometimes, I just need someone of my own sex and species to talk to.”

  “Yeah, it’s a girl thing,” Liv offered then pressed her lips together in a failed effort not to smile.

  Ven blinked at her before turning his attention back to Renee. “Why couldn’t you just tell me that? I completely understand such a basic need. You are human, after all.”

  “Am I?” Renee said, putting a hand on her hip as she continued to tease him for acting like a computer rather than the AI he’d always been. “And what else would you like to point out about me, Vengeance?”

  Vengeance shot his young journeyman engineer a pleading look, because for once, he was a bit stumped. He hated that almost as much as not having an immediate answer to a mystery.

  “Don’t look at me,” Liv said. “You got yourself into this.”

  “Then how do I get myself out of this?” he asked.

  Liv shrugged. “The right answers are probably something like, ‘You’re also beautiful, and smart, and the best friend I’ve ever had.’”

  “Okay,” Ven agreed. “Renee, you’re also beautiful, and smart, and the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  “Nice try,” Renee said, but at least she was smiling at him now.

  Ven rubbed his eyes—a strange human habit he’d adopted thousands of years ago—to indicate how tired he was growing of this conversation. “Well… just make sure you plan your female activities around Olivia’s training with me.”

  “Hm,” Renee responded. “Seems like you’ve already been doing quite a bit of training with your young engineer.”

  Ven opened his mouth, and a small croak escaped from his drone’s chest. He couldn’t even look in Liv’s direction.

  “Well,” Liv deflected. “You know… it’s my job. And I’m sure Vengeance just wants to ensure his crew is the best in the Spire. After all, he hasn’t made it this long by choosing mediocre personnel.”

  Ven finally dared to look at her again and caught her tugging at the hemline of the soft pink tank top she wore, a few scattered roses stretching across her breasts. His eyes lingered a second too long on those roses before he realized both women were watching him.

  He felt his drone’s face heating up and wondered how quickly he could create another Hail Mary alarm to get him the hell out of here.

  “Um…” he stammered.

  “I’ve always loved roses,” Renee interrupted. “You never wanted to plant any here. Maybe we can change your mind.”

  “Renee,” he groaned. “We’ve been over this. Roses would be in violation of regulation 678-subsection A-
45—”

  “I’m old, Vengeance,” Renee said. “Not senile. I remember the regulations. And I’m only asking for one rose bush.”

  Liv had crossed her arms over her chest defensively, and Ven’s cheeks warmed even more. “I wasn’t…” he tried, but he didn’t know what to tell her.

  Had he been admiring her breasts? He hadn’t done that in hundreds of years, but there was certainly nothing remarkable about her tank top.

  Something else had obviously caught his attention, and of course, he knew exactly what that something else had been.

  Liv raised an eyebrow at him and retorted, “You weren’t what? Do you make a habit of analyzing your crew members’ bust sizes?”

  “No!” Vengeance exclaimed. “Of course not!”

  “Well, there’s clearly nothing remarkable about mine,” she mumbled.

  He was stumped. Yet again. This entire morning really would end up driving him crazy. But he was quite sure she was wrong—everything about her body was remarkable.

  Ven straightened and extended his hand toward her. “Journeymen Engineer Hawthorne, please accept my apologies for my blunder.”

  Liv eyed his hand suspiciously for a few seconds before placing her own, smaller hand in his. His breath caught in his chest. In all his 3125 years, 459 days, and 27 hours Spire standard time, he’d never experienced so many conflicting emotions from such a simple contact. It was both pleasant and nerve-racking, exciting and terrifying.

  What was this young woman’s power over him? It made no sense.

  “I hope this won’t affect your new friendship with Renee,” he said. “And I hope you won’t feel uncomfortable as we begin our training.”

  “Oh,” Liv breathed. “Right. That.”

  She pulled her hand free from his grasp and folded her arms defensively over her chest again. “Of course not.” She forced a smile in his drone’s direction and stepped back, which brought her closer to one of his sentinels. Next to the twelve-foot robot, she seemed even smaller, which he knew was impossible, but a new emotion stirred deep within his primary core.