***
“I still can’t believe someone managed to pack all this stuff,” Thomas commented as they walked through the makeshift storehouse. “How did they even fit it all on the transport?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Selaris replied, shaking her head. It really did seem impossible. Somehow amidst the chaos of the evacuation a handful of Gantrell loyalists had managed to get their hands on and then pack virtually everything in the city with even a hint of connection to the original settlers. The archival computer systems buried deep within the Underbelly, the ancient Keledonian paintings from inside the Spire of Freedom, even the now-broken statue of Queen Anara from the walls of the Ecclesia. Selaris had been so out of it after linking with the shield grid that she hadn’t been paying much attention during the actual jump away from the city, but her people had definitely been busy.
Her people. That’s what they were, in a sense, despite the fact the throne had been destroyed a hundred years ago. With the de facto dissolution of the Council she had no legal right to tell them to do anything, but they didn’t seem to care. Many of them, particularly the older ones, simply wanted to hold onto something from their heritage, be they symbols like half the junk in this room or an actual flesh and blood person like Selaris herself. Others were simply desperate for human solidarity, and they were willing to toss in with her for lack of a better alternative.
Either way, the whole thing was one part pathetic and another part heart-wrenching. They wanted from her something she could never give them, and they yearned for a return to a time that would never come again. But perhaps together they could at least find a palatable alternative.
“Well, these machines still seem to work,” Thomas said as he played with one of the old computers. “Though with the speed of these processors we might as well be using a water wheel.”
Selaris smiled. “I bet there are people on Pragia right now that would literally kill to have a machine like that. According to Markus they can’t even afford sanitation mechs.”
“We could always do a fly-by donation. I could probably yank the processors out of these and stick them in one of the old mechs.”
“I’d rather find them a new place to live away from the Convectorate. And give them a chance to start over.”
He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at her. “We will. You heard Markus—he has a plan.”
“I’m starting to realize that a lot of his plans don’t work out the way he intends,” she replied dryly. “But I suppose you’re right.”
“This is odd,” Thomas said.
Selaris frowned. “What?”
“Most of these machines had their memories wiped before they were put into storage, but this one still has something on it—something that’s encoded.”
“Is that really surprising? We have no idea what was even on them.”
“I guess not, but I can’t imagine who the owner was trying to keep out with a simple password like this.”
Selaris rolled her eyes. “You know, most people probably have a much different definition of ‘simple password’ than you.”
“No, seriously,” he said, turning back to face her. “The password is just one word, seven letters. My decrypter can break this in seconds.”
“It could just be someone’s personal files. Individuals don’t tend to—” She cut herself off when he inhaled sharply. “What is it?”
“The password,” Thomas said softly. “It’s ‘Selaris.’”
A nervous tingle prickled down the back of her neck. “It must have belonged to dad. Do you know what’s on it?”
“It looks like everything’s been wiped clean except for two files. The first is just a basic text document.”
Selaris knelt down next to him as he opened the file. It was only one line full of numbers. “Those look like coordinates.”
Thomas nodded idly as he grabbed his datapad and pulled up a starchart. “They’re pretty far away…almost nine hundred light-years past the Yulab-Delphi Cluster.”
“That’s well outside Convectorate space.”
“It’s right smack in the middle of nowhere, and as far as I can tell there isn’t a jump corridor within at least ten light-years.”
Her face scrunched. “So there’s no way to get there.”
“Well, if we could get our hands on a tunneler, we could trudge out our own corridor in a year or two. Otherwise…” He shrugged. “We could always cheat. With an astral drive we could shift over, fly through astral space, and then shift back and end up right on top of it.”
The tingling in her neck quickly worked its way down her spine. “That has to be intentional. Dad didn’t want anyone without astral technology finding whatever is there.”
“In other words, he was hiding something from the Convectorate,” Thomas reasoned, his tongue pressing against his upper lip in that ridiculous expression of his. “Or was, anyway. I guess now they have at least one ship with an astral drive.”
“I wonder what’s there,” Selaris breathed, her mind madly conjuring possible scenarios. Was it another secret base? A hidden stockpile of supplies? A superweapon?
Or maybe it was nothing more than a red herring designed to throw someone off. Sort of like the Damadus.
“Let’s check out the other file,” Thomas suggested. “It looks like a hologram, but this thing doesn’t even have a projector. Hold on.” He grabbed his holopad from inside his pocket and fiddled with the two machines for a second. “All right, here we go.”
He turned on the projection…and both of their mouths dropped open.
“Are those what I think they are?” he asked breathlessly.
Selaris nodded but couldn’t find her voice to reply. Floating there on the projection, set against the impossibly black background of space, were almost three dozen starships ranging in size from small, single-pilot freighters to slender, three-hundred meter long frigates. And in the center, situated like the crown jewel of an ancient collection, was the massive, T-shaped bulk of an Omega-class battlecruiser—once the pride and terror of a Dominion fleet that had spanned the galaxy.
But as amazing as the ships themselves were, it was their design that caught her attention. Their design…and the insignia emblazoned on their hulls.
“The Keledonian Royal Fleet,” she managed eventually. “Or a part of it, anyway. Have they really been sitting there all this time?”
“I admit I didn’t know him all that well, but your dad didn’t seem like the joking type,” Thomas said.
Selaris licked at her suddenly dry lips. The Convectorate had made it their mission to destroy every remaining Dominion ship in the galaxy, and other than rare and exotic finds like the Damadus, they had been incredibly successful. Had her father really managed to hide a fleet for an entire century? Had his mother before him?
“If these ships have been out there for a hundred years, why didn’t he bring any of them to the asteroid?” Thomas asked after a moment.
“We didn’t have the power,” she said. “They’re all psi-ships, and other than the few of us adepts we didn’t have anyone who could pilot them.”
“I guess we still don’t, even with Markus and Vale. Besides, if we use our powers the Widow will find us.”
“Maybe, but if these ships are really still there…” She swallowed and locked her eyes with his. “Do you realize what it means?”
“I don’t know,” Thomas said. “They’re impressive, but a few dozen unpowered ships aren’t enough to win a war.”
“No,” Selaris replied, standing. “But they might be enough to fight one.”
To Be Continued
The “Spiderverse” series continues with Rebellion, Phoenix Rising, and Homeworld—all available now!
For news and updates about new releases, sign up for the author’s email newsletter at www.cestalbaum.com/newsletter
About the Author
C.E. Stalbaum grew up reading plenty of science fiction and fantasy, particularly Tolkien
, R.A. Salvatore, Robert Jordan, and most of all Timothy Zahn. In 2011, Stalbaum published "The Last Goddess" and has written nearly a dozen other novels and novellas since.
C.E. Stalbaum also writes dark fantasy under the name "Jennifer Vale."
Want to chat about books, role-playing games, movies, and/or sports? Follow him on Twitter @CEStalbaum!
The Spider and the Fly Page 69
