Suns Eclipsed

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  “That’s what you should be watching,” Bellona told him, pointing toward the big doors sliding open, to show the star field beyond.

  Behind them, running feet could be heard in the corridors leading to the deck. The alarm had been ship-wide and those closest to the deck were just arriving. Everyone who had been on the control deck was minutes away, yet.

  Alberda frowned as the yacht appeared, moving slowly through the doors. “It’s tiny,” he remarked. “I didn’t know interstellar craft could be made that small.”

  “Just big enough to take a small null-engine, I’m guessing,” Bellona said. “I’ve never seen one that size before, either.”

  The doors of the landing deck closed behind the ship. Someone was still on the control deck, monitoring.

  The ship settled down in the first open space it came to. The feet spread and the ship vented with a hiss. A short set of stairs extended from beneath the only man-sized hatch. The door did not open straight away.

  Alberda glanced at her. “Do you know who it is?” he asked, his voice low, for the others had come to a stop around them, watching.

  “Sang told me to be here. I’m here,” Bellona told him.

  “You trust it—him—that much?”

  “I’m here,” she repeated.

  Alberda crossed his arms.

  The hatch of the little ship opened up and two figures emerged, moving slowly.

  Bellona gasped, for the taller of the two was Khalil. He leaned heavily on the boy at his side, taking the stairs one at a time. There were large blood stains on his clothes.

  The boy looked around, his gaze moving from face to face, until he came to Bellona. “Help him,” he said. “I do not know how.”

  Bellona rushed to them, as did everyone else except Alberda.

  Khalil tried to smile. “This is Dyse,” he said, his voice weak. “I vouch…for…” His eyes rolled up. Bellona caught him as he sagged. Her own legs buckled under the weight. Instantly, a dozen other hands reached out to help. Khalil was lifted.

  “Medbay,” Bellona said, her voice strained. “Someone warn Hero.” As the tightly packed group moved toward the corridor, she cursed. “Wait!” she called. She reset the forge controls and fired it up.

  Amilcare was one of the group holding Khalil. “Can we all go through?”

  “As long as you’re all touching each other and me, we’ll be fine,” Bellona said.

  The bridge formed, showing the medbay on the other side. It was empty and low-lit. As they arranged themselves in front of the bridge, the medbay lights came on and Hero moved in front of that end of the bridge. She beckoned.

  Bellona lifted Khalil’s limp hand and held it. Alberda grasped the back of her elbow. “Go through,” she said.

  The group moved through, shuffling to squeeze between the edges of the bridge.

  “Put him on the treatment bed,” Hero told them, as the bridge closed behind them. He followed the group over to the bed. The AI’s diagnostic arm swung over the top of them as Hero pushed between everyone to reach Khalil’s still body. “Everyone out,” she snapped crossly. “I’ll rub bodies with all of you later.”

  Alberda snorted.

  Bellona couldn’t raise the energy to smile. “Come with me, Governor,” she said quietly. She looked at the boy, who had come through the bridge with them. “Dyse is your name?”

  He nodded, watching Khalil. Everyone else was filing quietly out of the medbay.

  “Will you come with me, Dyse?” Bellona said. “We need to talk.”

  Dyse looked up at her. “He didn’t betray you.”

  Her heart squeezed. “Excuse me?”

  “They tortured him. I watched it all.” Dyse swallowed. “He didn’t give them what they wanted. Not for a moment.” His gaze shifted back to Khalil.

  Alberda’s eyes met hers. “Who tortured him?” he asked Dyse gruffly.

  “The people who thought they were the Bureau,” Dyse said, his tone distant.

  Alberda’s lips pulled into a silent whistle. “That’s…interesting.”

  Bellona gripped his arm. “I will take you back to Cerce. We’ll have to tour you around the galaxy another day, Governor.”

  “Actually,” Alberda said, “I think I would like to stay here for a while.”

  “What about your meeting?”

  “I’ll see them next week,” Alberda said, his tone indifferent.

  Bellona weighed up the advantages of Alberda witnessing what might come next, then shrugged. Alberda was paying attention instead of dismissing her and her people, as he had done months ago. She would run with it. “This way, then, Governor,” she said, waving toward the medbay entrance.

  “I’ll report as soon as I can, Bellona!” Hero called, her attention on the diagnostics screen.

  “Thank you,” Bellona told her. She put her hand around Dyse’s upper arm. “Come with me,” she told him, keeping her voice gentle.

  “No, I should stay,” Dyse said.

  “You’ll be in the way.”

  “I can help,” Dyse said.

  “More than the medical AI can?” Bellona asked.

  He rolled his eyes. “Of course, more.”

  “I don’t need any more help, thank you,” Hero said shortly. “I need silence and space to think.”

  Bellona tugged on Dyse’s arm. He came reluctantly.

  * * * * *

  There was a small meeting room between her private quarters and the control deck, which Hero had adjusted to remove the Karassian starkness. The walls were a subdued and peaceful blue, the air ionized to relax the skin and the chairs comfortable, not the over-padded cocoons Karassians seemed to favor.

  Alberda glanced around once, absorbing the details, then took the chair that Bellona offered.

  Bellona pulled out another chair for Dyse and encouraged him to sit. “Do you want something to eat or drink?” she asked.

  He shook his head. His eyes narrowed as Sang, Fontana and Thecla walked into the room. He glanced at Thecla’s implants, then stared harder at Sang.

  Sang cleared his throat and sat down.

  “You were android first,” Dyse murmured. “I know your model well.”

  “I have moved beyond the designation,” Sang said stiffly.

  Alberda tilted his head, his attention snagged by the exchange.

  Bellona sat, examining the two as they stared at each other across the table. “You know each other?” she asked.

  “Indirectly,” Dyse said. He looked at Bellona. “Khalil warned me, before we landed, to be cautious about who I trust, even among your people. Do you trust everyone in this room, Bellona Cardenas? Can I speak freely?”

  Alberda just looked at her and waited.

  Bellona nodded. “Yes,” she said firmly. “You can speak freely.”

  Dyse gripped his hands together. “If you require it of me, I will tell you what happened to Khalil. Only, I find the details to be uncomfortable to think about. Once, this would not have been so.”

  “Who are you?” Alberda asked.

  Sang answered. “He is the Bureau.”

  * * * * *

  Cerce City, Cerce Prime, Cerce

  Bellona stepped Alberda through to his office, after checking to see if anyone was there, to witness his arrival. “For now,” she explained, “we don’t want huge numbers of people to know about the forge.”

  “I’m flattered I’m one of the few,” Alberda said. He gripped her hand in a sudden movement. “You do understand what the forge represents, don’t you?”

  Bellona looked at him. “A power shift.”

  He nodded. “And that boy sitting on your ship back there…”

  “He’s not really a boy. That’s just the human interface he uses.”

  “In some ways that’s exactly what he is,” Alberda said. “I’ve reared three of them. I recognize bluster hiding misunderstanding. That’s beside the point. You have the Bureau in your pocket, Bellona.”

  Bellona pressed her lips together. “Kha
lil has the Bureau in his pocket, I think.”

  “Dyse wants to learn from you. You can shape him, shape the Bureau, in any way you want.”

  Bellona didn’t answer. She was still sorting out the ramifications for herself. She said, instead; “We should talk further, when you have time, Governor.”

  Alberda nodded vigorously. “I will absolutely be in touch.”

  Her heart jumped again. Things were moving.

  * * * * *

  Demosthenes, Nomansland.

  Sang was waiting for her when she returned. He got up from the chair in the corner of the front room of her quarters. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said diffidently. “Hero reported fifteen minutes ago. I thought you would want to know immediately and in person.”

  “Tell me,” Bellona said, shucking off the heavy belt.

  “He’s lost a lot of blood. There are penetrating injuries all over his body. There is some blunt force bruising, too. Hero has sealed all the wounds. She says there will be scaring and possible infection that will need to be treated secondarily. She doesn’t know how much scarring, yet, and can’t remove it once it forms. The medbay AI does not run to cosmetic procedures.”

  “He will live?” Bellona asked, keeping her tone even.

  “Yes. I’m sorry, yes, he will live. I should have started with that. I apologize. Hero said he should wake in a few hours, if you want to talk to him.”

  Bellona faced him. “Is there something on your mind, Sang? This is a report I could have got from Hero herself, by screen.”

  Sang sat down again, threading his hands together. “I…have been thinking about Dyse.”

  “So have I,” Bellona admitted. “He is what he says, isn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Sang admitted heavily. “I have never communicated with the Bureau mind before. The sheer power of Dyse’s processes tell me he can be nothing else, though. I’ve never met a mind like him.”

  “Do we need to take measures to protect his core?” Bellona asked. “If he has abandoned the human organization that supported him, then he may be vulnerable.”

  “He is not a single core. He is a matrix of them. If one is lost, another can take its place. Dyse could lose nearly all his data nodes and still function. Even so, he assures me his locations are secure.” Sang paused. “Although that is not the thought that lingers.”

  “What is?” She settled her hips on the edge of the small work desk she never used.

  “Do you remember what Khalil told you once?”

  “About the Bureau?”

  “He said ‘If there was a beating heart to the Bureau I would tear it out with my bare hands and give it to you.’” Sang’s hands squeezed together, the knuckles turning white. “Isn’t that exactly what Khalil has done?”

  Bellona sighed. “I never imagined for a moment that it could happen. If I had thought it possible, then I would not have imagined it happening this way. Not with all this blood and pain. Not in a way that makes me feel guilty for ever doubting him.”

  Sang got to his feet. “Then you no longer doubt him?”

  “How could I?” she asked reasonably.

  Sang shifted awkwardly. “I should return to the factory.” Everyone was calling the big dining hall the factory, for most of the long tables were devoted to an assembly line process to build forge belts. One for everyone on the ship, at least.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Sang?” she asked, for he seemed…off.

  “I am,” he replied.

  “It’s late. Don’t work too much longer,” she called as he left, knowing he would ignore that command.

  * * * * *

  Hero hurried out of the medbay as Sang passed the open doorway. She walked next to him.

  “There is a problem?” Sang asked. “Khalil?”

  “He’s sleeping.”

  “It’s late,” Sang said, echoing Bellona’s observation. “You should sleep yourself.”

  “I saw you go in to her rooms.”

  “This top deck has advantageous sightlines everywhere.”

  “Sang, he’s back. Khalil.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going back to work.”

  She caught at his arm, halting him. “Sang!”

  He shook it off. “What?”

  “You must feel something.”

  Sang started walking again. “Of course I do. The human endocrine system works in me just as it does in you.”

  “You know I’m not talking about efficient function. Khalil is back and you’re heading to work as if nothing has changed.”

  “Nothing has changed,” Sang assured her.

  “Everything has changed. For you. Don’t lie to me, Sang. I know you. I know you love—”

  Sang shoved her up against the wall. It was meant to shock her into silence. She rammed up against it, her breath forced out in a hard gasp. He lifted his hands, contrition tearing through him. “I only meant…”

  Hero nodded. “I know.”

  He pressed his lips to hers. It wasn’t a kiss. It was a venting. Perhaps she knew that, too, for she accepted it with passive softness.

  Then it changed and became a real kiss. She was warm and accepting. For now, it would do.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Demosthenes, nomansland.

  Governor Alberda returned to Demosthenes barely a week later. This time, he brought company.

  His staff set up the meeting, following Alberda’s instructions to set the meeting in his office. Bellona understood what he had not told his people; the meeting would start in his office, but take place on Demosthenes.

  When she and her generals stepped through the bridges into Alberda’s office, his staff were nowhere in sight.

  Bellona recognized almost everyone in the room. Ferdin Roncalli, the short, rotund Governor of Xindar. The Director of Laurasia, in her anti-grav chair; Madhuri Truman, the Cheng-Huang Alignment Minister of Culture; the Corian Prime Minister, the Angyl President. New Velez, Lauthia, Atticus, Antini, Shimshon. These were people Bellona had spent over a year trying to meet.

  Alberda waved his hand toward them. “We were having the semi-annual anyway,” he said casually. “I thought…”

  Bellona scrambled to reorient herself. Everyone was looking at her and the Ledanians, various forms of shock and surprise on their faces.

  “Everyone,” Alberda said. “Take an arm. We’re moving offices.”

  It was a massively cheeky understatement. Bellona didn’t spoil it. She was happy for Alberda to have his moment. No one else in the free worlds could have pulled together these people so quickly.

  “Set for the boardroom,” Bellona told her crew. She reset her forge, as Alberda took her arm. The other heads of state followed his example. Then each of them stepped through the bridge their host created and the bridges shut down with a soft pop behind them.

  The politicians all looked around in astonishment. The star field visible in the armored windows had no resemblance to the one over Cerce.

  “Welcome to Demosthenes,” Bellona told them.

  * * * * *

  Sang alerted Dyse, who slipped into the boardroom as everyone was settling into the chairs.

  Even Khalil dragged himself from the medbay and walked slowly and stiffly into the boardroom. He nodded at Alberda and to Maddie Truman, who tilted her head, her brows raising, as she took in Khalil’s beaten and bruised face and the lingering traces of sealed cuts.

  “You’ve been fighting the wrong enemy,” she said in her raspy voice.

  “Not by choice,” Khalil assured her and winced as he sat down.

  Amilcare arrived, with half a dozen of the Abilio people, all carrying trays of beverages and cups, which they served to the politicians.

  Bellona looked at Sang and raised a brow. He shook his head. Dyse, though, smiled.

  She would have to talk to him, later, about the chain of command.

  Alberda paddled the table with his palm, gaining silence and ev
eryone’s attention. “This was supposed to be my meeting,” he said. “However, given our current location, four hundred light years away from Cerce—”

  “Four hundred and seventy-six,” Dyse corrected him.

  Alberda nodded, as the politicians murmured in surprise. “A long way from Cerce,” he amended, “and how we all got here, I think we should abandon the usual agenda and talk shop. Bellona?”

  She smiled. “The forges are proprietary, Governor. I won’t disclose the technology, if that is what you’re thinking.”

  Alberda shook his head. “I’m thinking you invented it for a reason. Give us the reason.”

  Bellona’s heart raced, as she looked around the table at the expectant faces. “I developed it, so we can win against the Alliance. All of us—every free state, every person on those worlds, anyone who resents the tyranny of the Republic and the Homogeny. We could never win against them if we tried to beat them in space. With the forges, though, we don’t have to.”

  She had their attention.

  Happily, she explained.

  * * * * *

  No one seemed to be in a hurry to leave.

  Once Bellona outlined her plans, they settled in to pick the plan apart, refine it and build upon it.

  It was heady stuff. For more than two hours, Bellona called upon the combined resources and assistance of the biggest and most established free states. The promises of men and materials, money and help piled up.

  Dyse was the first to know when it happened. He jerked, as if someone had punched him in the back, and grabbed his chest, over his heart. “No…” he breathed, his gaze distant.

  Sang gasped and shot to his feet. “Cerce!” he breathed.

  Alberda put down his coffee mug. “What of it?’ he said sharply.

  Sang swallowed and looked to Bellona. She nodded. He turned to face Alberda. “I’m sorry, Governor. Cerce City was just attacked by an orbital weapon.”

  “A city killer,” someone whispered.

  Alberda paled. “It’s gone?” he said, his voice hoarse. “The whole city?”

  Bellona got to her feet, feeling sick. “Governor, we can find out. If one of you here at the table will allow us to build a bridge to one of your ships in orbit over Cerce…”