***
As a rule, Spiders had little use for introspection. In the first twenty years of her life, Jenavian had probably expended less mental energy deliberating philosophy or morality than the average Merzeg hive worker. Things had gradually begun to change after Mirador, of course, but these last few weeks had been something entirely different. She hadn’t gotten a real night’s sleep since Briton Chalo; her mind and the doubts swirling within it wouldn’t settle no matter how hard she tried.
The ten-hour trip from the Nidus to New Keledon might have been the worst of all. When she hadn’t been speaking with Markus, she’d been trying to figure out a way to suppress the guilt and general self-loathing threatening to overwhelm her. Nothing had worked, and ultimately she decided the only real solution was to occupy herself with another task. She’d concentrated on the New Keledon evacuation effort, and she’d outlined a rough plan with Markus during his fleeting moments of consciousness. By the time they’d finished, they had a pretty good idea of what they’d say to the Council, where they’d allocate resources, and even how they’d salvage as much of the city’s technology as possible before they left.
Of course, neither of them had known that Foln had decided to stim up and conquer the city, nor had they realized the Ghallar transports had essentially been condemned. And so while all their planning had done wonders for distracting her mind, its overall logistical value when they actually got to New Keledon was as close as it could be to zero.
“So you’re telling me that neither of those things will even move?” Markus said as he glanced out the office window to the massive transports hovering at the edges of the docks.
“One can move, the other cannot,” Zalix replied. “Neither can successfully shift into normal space.”
“Then what the hell are we going to do?” Grier asked from her perch near the doorway. Her left arm was still wrapped in a cast, and she looked about as cheerful as one would expect considering she’d just been hurled into a stone wall. Fortunately for her, though, the injuries hadn’t been serious. “The Golem is as empty as it’s going to get, and there’s no way we can carry more than a thousand people.”
Jenavian pursed her lips and turned to the other woman. “Then we should start moving people immediately. We might get lucky and the upgrades will end up taking longer than we thought.”
Grier shook her head. “We’re not going to pull off fifty separate trips. For one, it will take at least fifteen hours round trip to reach our closest base, and some of the others are even farther away. I don’t care how lucky we get—they aren’t going to take that long to install the things. And for two…” She shrugged. “Risking that many trips anywhere is just asking to draw extra attention. There are bound to be Convectorate monitoring probes watching some of the transfer points between jump corridors. If they catch us moving in and out, they may track us to the base.”
“There’s also the issue of deciding who gets to leave first,” Zalix pointed out. “And given how poorly the evacuation is already being received in some districts…”
Markus sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He looked older than he had just a few days ago. Apparently the stress of trying to evacuate his home coupled with a series of bitter betrayals was rapidly wearing on him. The torture probably hadn’t helped, either. Dimly, Jenavian wondered if she looked better or worse at this point.
“Our best option is to try and make repairs,” he said. “And I’d rather have the Golem here as long as possible just in case the battleship shows up early.”
Grier eyed him quizzically. “I hope you’re not expecting us to take a Convectorate battleship head on.”
“I don’t expect to destroy it, but I do think there’s a chance we could delay it. Remember, they don’t have the city’s exact coordinates, only the Golem’s usual shifting point. That means we’ll have a little bit of time between when they shift over and when they’re in range.”
Jenavian did her best not to grimace. During their brief summary of events to the others, Markus had been kind enough to spare the exact details of how the Convectorate had gotten the coordinates. If the others knew that the Widow was using Jenavian’s memories—memories which thankfully didn’t include precise coordinates—they probably never would have accepted her help in the first place.
That information could always come out later, of course, but she’d deal with that if it happened. Right now all that mattered was surviving the next few days.
“In that case, we should set up a lookout,” Grier suggested. “We can send someone out in one of the smaller shuttles and have them wait in normal space. The moment they detect activity in one of the nearby jump corridors, they can fire off a signal to the buoy. It will give us that much more of a warning.”
“Good idea,” Markus said. “You might want to establish a few fighter patrols, too, if for no other reason than getting more of our people out of the way during the preparations. It’s going to be hard enough keeping the people calm as it is.”
“I’m still not certain how well the Mire soldiers are going to react under pressure with Foln dead. He’s been the face of the organization for a long time.”
“Most of them know you far better than they ever knew him. They’ll listen.”
“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,” Grier murmured.
Markus nodded and turned back to the others. “Then our main focus needs to be repairs. I know the city’s not exactly overflowing with engineers, but we should have enough people to get the job done.”
Zalix’s mane rippled with concern. “I wouldn’t be so certain. Preliminary diagnostics suggest that we’ll need to replace several important systems, and we have precious few experts on starship design, let alone specifics of a Ghallar-class transport.”
“I may be able to assist with that,” a familiar voice said from around the corner. A moment later a thin, vaguely reptilian man stepped gingerly into the room. Selaris and her red-haired friend followed behind him.
Jenavian hopped to her feet. “You’re alive.”
“Yes, thanks to Her Highness,” Thexyl said. “Apparently Kali can be treated with psionics.”
Selaris smiled tiredly. “Thomas was the one who figured it out, really. I was mostly just along for the ride.”
“Really,” Markus mused, eyebrow cocked. “So I guess you’ve been holding out on us all these years then, huh?”
“Uh…no, not really,” the kid stuttered, his eyes sheepishly studying the ground in front of him with renewed vigor. “I probably just got lucky.”
“Either way, thank you,” Jenavian said, resisting the urge to reach out and touch Thexyl. She’d never been much for physical contact, and of course Kali weren’t either…but for some reason right now it was all she could do not to slide over and squeeze his arm.
“He should really be lying down and getting some more rest,” Selaris said, nodding to her patient, “but under the circumstances…”
“Time is of the essence,” Thexyl said. “Her Highness filled me in on the important details. It would seem the transports require repairs.”
Markus nodded. “Potentially significant repairs. Councilor Zalix has the details.”
The Thursk handed Thexyl a datapad. “I would like to remain optimistic that the first one remains space-worthy, but the second…”
“Assuming these diagnostics are accurate, my greatest concerns are time and supplies,” the Kali replied, a shimmer of troubled orange appearing just beneath his bandages. “I’m not sure what types of extra components are available.”
“Not much, I’m afraid, at least not without salvaging some of the smaller ships.”
“If it gets the big ones working, that’s really all that matters,” Jenavian said. “Most of those freighters couldn’t fit more than a few dozen people, anyway.”
“There’s actually a lot of old junk down in storage,” Thomas put in as he glanced at the pad over Thexyl’s shoulder. “In the Underbelly, I mean. There’
s lots of old tech the original settlers didn’t have power for or never got around to fixing. I bet we can find at least some of this stuff in there.”
“Great, then you’ve just been assigned to helping Thexyl,” Markus told him with a hearty slap on the back. “Go and speak with the other techs and see what you can do.”
“Er…ok,” the kid replied. “Why not?”
Thexyl’s head lifted up from the pad. “Then we should get started immediately. I will call when I have any updates.”
“Just try not to bleed through your bandages,” Jenavian chided, again fighting the urge to touch his shoulder. “And let the other techs handle crawling through service tubes.”
“I will try,” he promised. Kali might not have been capable of smiling, and her telepathy might not have been able to reveal what he was thinking, but she could tell from the warmth on his skin that he was glad to see her—and imminently focused on the task at hand.
“I’m glad you were able to help him, Your Highness,” Zalix said once Thexyl and Thomas were gone. “Davin would be proud.”
“He’d be prouder if we manage to get everyone out of here in time,” Selaris replied softly. “I keep expecting that battleship to show up any minute.”
“There is something else we could try,” Markus said, scratching at his cheek. “Something that might buy us a bit more time.”
Everyone turned towards him expectantly, and he let out a deep breath and glanced over to Grier.
“We still have the Phoenix inside the Golem’s hangar bay, right?”
Grier nodded. “Yes. Why?”
Markus smiled and turned towards Jenavian. “How do you feel about learning to fly a genuine psi-ship?”
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“We scrapped together a shuttle over the last few years, one made with conventional and psi-tech parts. I suppose you could call it a prototype hybrid. But the point is that I know Foln tested it a few weeks ago back while we were on Briton Chalo. With the help of the soropan stimulant, he was able to power the weapons and fire.”
“And you think one of us could do more.”
“I think we could do a lot more,” he clarified. “I glanced at the energy output reports earlier—those weapons produced more power than the Golem’s forward batteries.”
“That was while sitting motionless without shields or engines activated,” Grier mused, her head bobbing in thought. “And firing the shot nearly killed Foln.”
“Yes, but he wasn’t a true psychic. We are. As long as the rest of the systems work, we should be able to move and fly it normally, especially with two of us plugged in.”
Jenavian chewed on her lip and turned away. The whole concept of transforming into a psionic battery had always turned her stomach, and the idea of completely turning herself over to some Mire prototype while squaring off against one of the most powerful ships in the Convectorate fleet…
“What are you hoping to accomplish?” she asked, trying not to sound as apprehensive as she felt. “Take on the Unifier’s with a shuttle?”
“We’re not going to be able to destroy it, obviously, but with the Golem and its fighters running support, plus a few of the other combat-capable ships here…” Markus shrugged. “It’s a longshot, but we might be able to delay them long enough to buy the people here a bit more time. Hell, maybe we’ll even get lucky and cripple Unifier’s engines.”
“You’re the expert on psi-tech,” she reminded him. “Shouldn’t you be the one flying it?”
“With two of us plugged in, we’ll have a lot more power available. Besides, you’re the better instinctive pilot. If you can handle the engines, I can take the shields and maybe the weapons.”
“What about me?” Selaris asked. “I could go with you and help.”
“You’ll be needed here to help rally the people, Your Highness,” Markus told her. “And even if you weren’t, the Phoenix’s core only has two access ports. Foln designed it with the idea that he and I would be the ones plugging in.”
“Fine,” she said. “But I have to agree with Vale—this sounds kind of crazy.”
“No, it sounds really crazy,” Grier put in. “So does the concept of going head-to-head with a Convectorate battleship.”
“With luck, we’ll have the city evacuated long before it becomes an issue,” Zalix said. “But if not, it always pays to have a contingency plan.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Markus said, smiling tightly. “At this point everything is already organized, so we might as well head over and take a look at it.”
Reluctantly, Jenavian nodded. Considering how much of this mess was her fault, she owed it to these people to set aside her discomfort and do whatever was necessary. It was almost literally the least she could do. Of course, telling herself that did nothing to ease the tension gnawing at her stomach…
“All right,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”
The Spider and the Fly Page 56
