Death Skies (Fire and Rust Book 4)

by Anthony James

  “I see.”

  Park stared at Kemp for a moment and correctly guessed that he didn’t understand. “In other words, a spaceship accelerates quickly until it gets near its top speed, then the last part comes slower until maximum velocity is reached. Does that make it clear?”

  “Yeah, I get what you’re saying, Lieutenant. So the Zemilius is doing something different to normal.”

  “That’s right,” said Wrekstin. “And I don’t have any idea what or why. Our acceleration went from exponential to linear and it has stayed that way.”

  Something changed in the propulsion. The whooshing which reminded Conway of a turbocharger on an old combustion engine, faded and was replaced by a harsher, gruffer sound. The floor vibrated, gently at first and then with progressively greater strength.

  “I do not understand these instrumentation readings,” said Wrekstin, more to himself than anyone else. He tapped a finger on a touchpad and flicked a couple of switches. “The enemy ship is falling behind.”

  Conway was sure that was good news, yet he wasn’t exactly reassured. Something unknown was happening and he’d had his fill of mysteries for the next few years.

  “This is very exciting,” said Park. Her voice sounded odd, like it was affected by the ever-increasing vibration.

  “This. Is. Not. Exciting,” said Conway.

  “Acceleration remains linear,” said Wrekstin. “This should not be possible.”

  “Maybe it’s time for us to slow down?” asked Kemp. “Now that we’re way out in front.”

  “Where is your sense of adventure, human?” asked Wrekstin with another one of those unnerving grins.

  “Adventure gets you killed.”

  “It’s going to happen eventually.”

  “I like the word eventually. It means it hasn’t happened yet.”

  Conway had no idea what was going on. Lieutenant Park’s expression showed an intensity he hadn’t seen in her before. The vibration became so strong that he felt like his eyeballs were going in time with it and his vision blurred. The HUD in his suit knew something was wrong and the closest it could suggest was seismic activity coming from somewhere in the vicinity.

  “Approaching three hundred thousand kilometers per second,” said Wrekstin, the control bars jammed forward.

  The spaceship shook so hard that Conway was convinced it was going to break up. He wanted to shout at Wrekstin to back off, but he didn’t dare give in to the fear, and he knew the Fangrin would ignore him anyway.

  He turned his face towards his soldiers and they seemed to be frozen in place, either because they were unable to move or as a side effect of what was happening on the Zemilius. Conway lifted his hand from the back of the chair and it came up with agonizing slowness and left afterimages in the air behind it.

  Governor Wrekstin made a deep guttural sound of triumph and pure exaltation. It was bestial and Conway felt its command that he let go of his fears and embrace what was coming.

  He snarled in defiance at the universe and invited it to do its worst.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The universe had other plans for Lieutenant Tanner Conway. Just when it seemed like the Zemilius would tear itself apart, everything suddenly became utterly still and quiet. The vibration stopped and the harshness of the propulsion became a faint, almost soothing background drone.

  Out of habit, Conway raised his Gilner to check the magazine readout and he found his movements a little remote and a little bit detached. His body felt kind of like a string puppet, lagging behind the instructions from his brain. It was strange, but preferable to a kick in the balls.

  “What happened?” asked Conway. His voice seemed to come a split second after the movement of his tongue.

  “We are at lightspeed!” exclaimed Governor Wrekstin. “The supposedly impossible has happened! And look! The sensor feeds are gathering data!”

  Conway turned his attention to the sensor feeds, which, unexpectedly, were not blank. The images were hazy, dark and subject to occasional bursts of static. Looking at the forward array, Conway was given the impression the Zemilius was travelling rapidly along a tunnel with uneven walls. It was a notion he could understand. Something caught his eye on the rear array – a flash of inky blackness appeared and then vanished. Then, the same thing happened on the underside array. It didn’t make sense, but there again a lot of things didn’t.

  “Does this mean we can go home?” asked Torres. “I’m all for the impossible happening, but right now I could do with a cold beer.”

  Wrekstin didn’t answer and he conferred with Lieutenant Park over some of the gauges on the central console. They were animated and used lots of words that Conway hadn’t heard before.

  He was curious, but let them have their moment of excitement. Having come through so many battles, Conway didn’t take long to adapt to the fact that he was still alive. The rest of his squad were the same and Kemp was already wondering aloud if the Zemilius was fitted with a food station. Torres responded with a sharp remark and Kemp hit back with one of his own.

  “I guess this is new to you as well, Rembra?” asked Torres. She wasn’t one to exclude squad mates from the downtime chat, even when they were aliens. “I’ll bet you were thinking of that lucky Fangrin lady you’ve got waiting for you back home.”

  “In the same way you were thinking of Private Kemp.”

  “Aw shit, not you as well.”

  Conway smiled to himself as the back and forth continued. It was a comforting reminder of friendships forged in battle and it rarely failed to lift his mood.

  “This is incredible!” said Wrekstin. “Somehow the hardware on this ship has managed to perform a background switchover to a secondary propulsion system to make the transition appear almost seamless.”

  The amount of vibration and shaking wasn’t exactly what Conway would have described as seamless, however he knew enough about spaceflight to understand the significance of what had happened.

  “Does this mean the Zemilius could transition to lightspeed at any time?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Wrekstin. “I suspect that the lightspeed propulsion was feeding off the primary engines while we were accelerating. How long it takes for warmup to complete, I don’t know.”

  “What now, Governor?”

  “To answer Private Torres, we should go home.”

  “You mentioned something about the star charts.”

  “I do not understand them,” admitted Wrekstin. “In truth, I have not had the opportunity to look in any detail.”

  “I don’t want to keep you.”

  “Don’t worry, Lieutenant. I will do what I can.” Wrekstin rubbed the side of his muzzle, like he was thinking. “Whatever happens, it will not be immediate. Have any of you received training which might assist me with handling the Zemilius?” he asked. “For example, the use of a transport shuttle.”

  “I recently finished shuttle training,” said Conway. “I can use basic comms and sensors as well.”

  “In that case, take that seat you have been holding onto and have a look,” said Wrekstin, pointing at the console in front of Conway.

  Conway stepped closer to the station. The seat was as human-sized as everything else, with dense foam padding and a well-used harness that looked like it might have once been part of an animal. He sat carefully and studied the complex array of buttons, slide switches, touch controls and screens. None of it was labelled and it didn’t make sense.

  He wanted to call it quits before he even started, but Conway was too stubborn to accept defeat and he put his mind to the task.

  Meanwhile, Governor Wrekstin and Lieutenant Park spoke in low tones at the main console. Their words were too quiet to hear and Conway tried to ignore the distraction.

  An hour went by, during which Conway accepted his limitations when it came to operating alien hardware. It wasn’t easy to concentrate, since he had many questions about what was going on and what they should do now. Once he realized he was goi
ng around in circles and unlikely to learn anything more, Conway stopped and got out of his seat.

  “It’s time to talk,” he said, directing his words at Governor Wrekstin and Lieutenant Park.

  “We might not have answers,” said Park.

  “Have you figured out the star charts?”

  “Yes – the species which constructed this spaceship have logical minds. Their charts are easy to understand,” said Wrekstin. “And very extensive.”

  “In that case, we should decide what our next move is.”

  Wrekstin blinked. “I have already decided. Our destination is the Fangrin world Evlax. It is the closest allied world to our position.”

  Conway didn’t argue about the Zemilius going to the Fangrin – that was something the diplomats could squabble over later. He did, however, feel like he should be asked his opinion on what to do next, since he was the senior ground officer. Ignoring him was disrespectful. He made his thoughts plain.

  “There is only one realistic option for us, which is why you were not asked,” said Wrekstin. “From now on, you will be included in the discussion. I assume you have finished with that comms console?”

  “I’ve learned what I can, which wasn’t very much.”

  Wrekstin beckoned and Conway stepped over to the command console. Torres, Freeman, Rembra and Kemp lounged against the rear bulkhead, not paying much attention and happy for decisions to be made on their behalf.

  “We believe the Zemilius is very fast,” said Wrekstin. “Unfortunately, we are unable to translate the data, so we are going on a hunch.” He indicated a screen, upon which a long row of symbols updated with blinding speed. “This is probably the estimated time to our arrival.”

  “Once we arrive at Evlax, we will wait for the Fangrin to scan our hull for harmful emissions that your suit computer missed and then we’ll land,” said Park. “After that, we’ll request transport to a Unity League world for a debriefing and in my case three months in a medical facility getting my lungs replaced.”

  “And in mine an immediate redeployment,” said Conway. “I know the score.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Anyway, you were hoping that we might do something with the Zemilius, such as return to Qali-5,” said Wrekstin.

  “Pretty much.”

  “But you’re aware the technology onboard is unique and can’t be risked.”

  “Yes.” Conway shrugged. “I find it hard to back away from an engagement when the outcome is unknown.”

  “Qali-5 was destroyed by AF2, Lieutenant. We do not know the fate of those spaceships, nor that of Fleet Admiral Stone, or the others of your squad. Do you accept that we cannot return for them? What has happened has happened already. We cannot influence it.”

  Wrekstin was perceptive and Conway shifted uncomfortably. “It doesn’t sit well with me.”

  “We can’t go to Qali-5,” said Park. “Besides, the star charts indicate the planet is further away than Evlax.”

  “Fine, I accept what you’re saying.” Conway tried not to sigh. “What about the Zemilius? Have you discovered any of its secrets?”

  “We have hardly scratched the surface,” said Wrekstin. “Once we return, our language computers should be able to interpret these symbols and script patterns. After that, we’ll learn much more.”

  “If this spaceship is so advanced, why did the Raggers use it for testing purposes?”

  “We can only speculate. Perhaps they captured it and were fooled into thinking it was a basic craft, constructed by a more primitive species,” said Wrekstin.

  “I don’t even think we can conclude that the Raggers and this other species have fought in any significant way,” added Park. “If they had, it’s likely the Raggers would be aware of the capabilities of warships like this one and they would have attempted to copy the technology.”

  “Though it is possible the propulsion and sensor tech are currently beyond the Raggers,” continued Wrekstin. “In which case, we must be ready for them to eventually overcome these hurdles and introduce new ships into their fleet.”

  “Which makes it vital we figure out how it works before they do,” said Conway.

  “Yes – the design of the Zemilius is somewhere between evolution and revolution. Certainly it’s a large step above anything in the Fangrin navy or the ULAF,” said Wrekstin. “In some ways at least.”

  “Anyway, we were in the process of studying these utilization spikes on this display here,” said Park, indicating a screen next to where Conway was resting his hand.

  He watched the screen for a moment. It was covered in numerous lines in different colors, all of which updated constantly. One of them made regular upward jumps.

  “I know what that is,” Conway said. “Look at the sensor feeds.”

  They all looked and another of the dark flashes which Conway had noticed not long after the Zemilius entered lightspeed came on the upper portside array. A few seconds later, it repeated on the lower portside.

  “Those flashes coincide with each utilization spike,” said Park.

  Conway had another burst of inspiration. “Is this where the weapons are controlled from?” he asked, pointing at the surrounding area of the command console.

  “Yes. Missiles and guns.”

  “Maybe these are countermeasures we’re leaving behind. To fool anyone who’s following us.”

  Park stared at Conway with an intensity that would have made many people uncomfortable. “What was it Fleet Admiral Stone said about you way back in that cell? Nine-point-nine-five score for intuition I think it was.”

  “I have no idea where that figure came from, Lieutenant, or why Admiral Stone had it memorized.”

  “He also said it was the highest recorded in the Unity League,” Park mused.

  “If the Zemilius is indeed equipped with such countermeasures, it is because its creators were engaged in a war with an opponent who could follow them into lightspeed,” said Wrekstin.

  “I thought you Fangrin could do that as well.”

  “In a limited fashion. We can predict the end point of a lightspeed journey. However, if a spaceship aborted midway through, we would have no way to detect that. What we have on the Zemilius implies the enemies of its creators have a greater understanding of the method.”

  “That big ship that was chasing us?” asked Conway, beginning to understand the sudden concern.

  “Yes. This is more than coincidence. Suddenly we discover the existence of not one, but two new species. The designers of the Zemilius were fighting the race which built that ship we encountered above the ruined planet.”

  “With the Raggers caught in the middle?”

  “Who knows, Lieutenant? For the moment, we must assume that we are being followed by a likely enemy which does not currently know the Fangrin or the Unity League exists.”

  “I thought we were disguising our trail.”

  “Would you want to take the risk?” asked Park.

  “No, I guess I wouldn’t,” said Conway. An unwelcome image of that huge black spaceship arriving at New Pacific jumped into his mind. It made him angry and he clenched his fists. “The Raggers are enough. I don’t want more hostile species condemning us to another decade of war. No chance.”

  He stared at Park and Wrekstin. They stared back and he sensed their uncertainty. Everyone grasped the potential.

  “The existence of these species on what is effectively our doorsteps suggests we might already be too late to avert an encounter,” said Wrekstin.

  For once, Conway wasn’t sure he could deal with the reality. Not just yet. Unfortunately, Wrekstin had served that reality up on a plate and left Conway with no choice other than to accept that he was probably going to spend the rest of his life fighting. He swore and wished everything was different.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “What do we do?” Conway asked. “I assume we go somewhere else and wait to see if that big bastard of a spaceship arrives a few minutes behind us?”

  �
�That’s exactly what we must do,” said Wrekstin.

  “When?”

  “It’s time to pull a figure from our asses,” said Park, smiling. “What do you think, Lieutenant?”

  “As late as possible?” said Conway, wondering why he’d been put on the spot. “Unless the spaceship that’s following us can predict our destination based on crap that we are unaware of.”

  “Hah!” exclaimed Wrekstin. “Admiral Stone was right about Lieutenant Conway! We should terminate our journey as soon as possible.”

  “If that’s what you say, Governor.”

  “I do say it,” said Wrekstin, ushering Park and Conway away to give him some room.

  The Fangrin took his seat once again, studied the instrumentation for a second and then drew back the control bars. The gauges updated, some falling, some rising. The Zemilius shook, first a little and then increasing to a level similar to that when the spaceship had transitioned to lightspeed.

  “We are now sublight,” Wrekstin declared. “Lieutenant Conway, see what you can do with the sensors.”

  Conway hurried to the other console and did the best he could. He was slow and uncertain, and not willing to guarantee anything. Bit by bit over a couple of minutes, Conway built up a picture of the surrounding space. It was dark and empty.

  “I can’t locate anything on the aft arrays,” he said.

  “That tallies with my findings,” said Wrekstin. “However, the enemy warship might potentially appear anywhere, not just behind us. You should watch the data from every array.”

  Conway gritted his teeth, having found his workload multiplied by a factor of four. “We’ll get blown to pieces if everyone’s relying on me.”

  “I am searching also, Lieutenant,” said Wrekstin. “A second pair of eyes is beneficial, however inexperienced.”

  In a few minutes, Conway was feeling more comfortable. He got into a pan-and-zoom routine, which allowed him to perform a close-vicinity sweep, with each array only taking a few seconds before he moved onto the next. A well-trained sensor operative would have completed a long-range scan already, he knew, but Conway wasn’t going to beat himself up over it.