The war for control of this part of the Spiral Arm was going to get a lot tougher, he could see that. Dammitall, ‘control of this part of the Spiral Arm’ wasn’t the right way to talk about this war. The alliance would throw the Invardii out of their space and make sure they never came back. There was no negotiating with these slag-spawn!
Then Cagill was saying something else, and Cordez turned his mind back to the discussion at hand.
“Once the Invardii fleet had left the Aqua Regis system, we sent in every torpedo team we could field to finish off the mining base at the Barrens. The teams came across a few more of the many-legged war machines, but they were no match for us in numbers. After that we didn’t encounter much resistance at all.”
Cagill took a report from an aide, and Cordez waited patiently while he read it.
“We’ve now shut down the mining base shields and landed on the mass launcher in numbers,” he continued, reading this from the report.
“We’re currently searching the base,” he continued. “It’s early days yet, but it looks like we will get some handy stockpiles of super-heavy elements out of this. Also, judging by the numbers so far, we expect to collect two or three hundred cylinders – Invardii in the inert state.
“What are we going to do with so many prisoners of war?”
“Matsu can figure out something,” said Cordez. “He can modify that rod weapon he made, the one that turns them into the inert state and keeps them there. We just need to adapt it to a building the size of a warehouse. We could have thousands of these things before the war is over.”
Cagill stood in silence. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“And the other thing we have to do is get science teams in there as soon as possible,” said Cordez. “The mining base will be a treasure trove of Invardii technology. I don’t think there will be much we can use – their approach to life is too energy wasteful to link to our systems – but it might help us understand the weaknesses of the warships we’re up against.”
When the Valkrethi finally got back to Prometheus, Celia was the hero of the hour. The Javelin pilot she had partnered up with, Shavez, gave her all the credit.
“She over-rode the safeties on the reactor,” he said. “I don’t know how she damn well did it, and she stays there feeding the reactor as it goes critical. Then it starts to feed on itself, with us still right beside it! Most extraordinary thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, it was luck, really,” said Celia, remembering her attempts to short out the safety circuits on the strange-looking control panel.
“Once is luck, maybe even twice,” said Chavez, “but that whole action, from breaching the hull – okay, okay, I had a hand in that – to the last minute exit through the cargo bay, had the hand of a master on it.
“Er, should the word be ‘mistress’?” he added uncertainly.
The room roared with laughter.
“It was just luck the cargo bay doors were open,” said Celia feebly. “We took far too many risks.”
But she was being ignored. The excited throng had already turned away from her to discuss the role of others in the dramatic actions at the Aqua Regis system.
“Methinks she doth protest too much,” said a voice at Celia’s elbow. She turned, knowing it was Roberto. Even drained as she was, with the effects of too much adrenaline working its way out of her system, her heart beat a little faster.
“What’s the use of being a head of department if no one will listen to you,” she said, with a wan smile.
Roberto’s smile in return was much warmer, and sincere. She felt comforted by it.
“But you did take too many risks,” he said. “Interesting, isn’t it? Why do you think that was?”
“I don’t know,” she faltered. “It just seemed important that we, you know, show them, show the Invardii, we could do it.”
“Or the momentum would be lost,” he said softly, “and it would become a barrier for us, a mental belief that we couldn’t take the giant flagships down.”
She nodded, pleased he understood.
“But we would have found a way,” he said, kindly. “For each setback, a way forward. That’s how Cordez thinks, you know.”
“Really,” she said, brightening. “How do you know . . .”
“Not important,” he said quickly, then relented. “I’ve been friendly with one of Cagill’s aides lately, and he’s been talking about Cordez.”
“Look,” he continued, “what’s important here is that your actions on the flagship were an example of how you think. And you think in black and white. Good and bad. Extreme actions or none at all.
“You learned that from your past – I know about that now – but you’ve got to understand there is a middle way.”
Celia looked uncertain.
“Like taking a chance on us,” he continued.
“But I’m ten years older than you!” she protested, and he smiled at her efforts to put him off.
“You’re eight years older, and for two months of each year you’ll only be seven years older. Besides, there’s a lot more than age involved. You’re in just as good a shape as any women my age, and that’s what counts.
“Remember, age is as age does, and most importantly, there’s something about you I really want in my life. Believe me, that doesn’t happen very often.”
She didn’t look any more convinced, and he steered her gently away from the others and out into the long corridor that led through the living areas.
“We take our time,” he continued, “so that people get used to seeing us together. That’s normal. No one is going to say things behind your back about that.”
She nodded slowly. He steered them into the back of the dining area, and went to prepare a hot drink that would help them wind down and help them sleep, after a very busy day.
“On the other hand, if you start running around with a lot of different men, you will draw attention to yourself,” he added.
Celia looked shocked. “It wasn’t like that, there was only ever one at a time, and I tried to make the relationships work!”
“Good,” he said quietly. “I’m pleased to hear it. If you take an interest in another man while you’re with me, I’ll paddle your backside good and proper!”
He said it with a smile, but there was an edge in his voice.
Celia looked at him anxiously, and realised he meant it. She was both thrilled and apprehensive that he should take their relationship so seriously.
“No, no. Nothing like that,” she said miserably.
He put down the cups he was filling and came over to her, putting his arms around her.
“Hey, it’s all right, just making some things clear between us. I do trust you, remember that, and I’ve always believed in you.”
His arms were infinitely reassuring.
“And there’s that last thing,” he said mischievously. She looked up.
“The way you enjoy the touch of your man so much.”
She blushed furiously, and tried to wriggle out of his arms, but he held her firm.
“From my experience that’s quite common, so start thinking of yourself as normal. And, if you did happen to be a bit more of a woman than most, I would consider myself doubly blessed.
“It’s not a bad thing, you know, to love someone with all your heart.”
She subsided, not sure what to think. There were so many old emotional messages, and so much new hope.
“Now drink this,” he said, turning back toward the bench to pick up one of the cups he had prepared. He handed it to her, and stroked her once on her arm.
“Make sure you get a good night’s sleep,” he said finally.
She accepted the cup, and smiled her thanks.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear.
“One more thing,” he said. “You get tonight off because you’ve had a busy day, but I’ll be coming for you one of these evenings, and I won’t wait for long. Make sure you’re ready.”
; Then he took his cup, smiled, and disappeared down the corridor.
Celia realised she was trembling.
CHAPTER 28
________________
The lookout at the Shellport docks was the first to see the scattered collection of sails as they rounded the sea end of the giant trees and entered the main channel of the Kapuas river. It wasn’t long before he could count four dooplehuel in the convoy.
It had to be Hudnee and Battrick. They’d gone out with three dooplehuel and fifteen villagers. The other dooplehuel probably carried Menon and Metris.
The lookout sounded the alarm, and set off to gather together those who were on duty at the dock. The four craft had a following wind as they sailed up the lower reaches of the Kapuas, and they tied up at the docks before the lookout returned with Shellport’s medicine woman.
“I thought you were a dead man,” said Hudnee to Battrick, as they stepped onto the dock. He was reliving yet again the moment when the many-legged Invardii war machine had trapped two of the torpedo team underneath it, shortly after the team had beached the torpedo unit on an island at the Barrens.
Battrick nodded, and bowed his head for a moment.
“I was,” he said, matter of factly, “until you twisted that rod and stopped that burning orange scum in their tracks.”
A crowd was now gathering to greet the new arrivals, and they both looked up as Daneesa and Menona pushed their way to the front of it. Daneesa pulled back one hand and drove a hard right into Hudnee’s face, glancing her fist off his cheek. It hurt her hand like crazy, but she knew better than to try a roundhouse slap, which he would easily have stopped by catching her wrist.
“You treacherous, double-crossing, swamp trash,” she yelled into his face. “You promised me you would only watch the attack at The Barrens, that you’d stay safely on one of the islands. You were ‘too old to chance your arm in anything like that’, eh? What about ‘I won’t be in any danger?’ or ‘what could go wrong?’ ”
She pulled her arm back for another punch, but Hudnee hastily backed up, so she folded her arms in front of her, and stamped angrily on the boards of the dock instead.
Hudnee’s mind was whirling. Damn women remember everything a man says, he thought desperately. It’s not fair!
He stepped warily forward, saying, “things just happened, Daneesa – you know how it is – I didn’t have a chance to stop and think about it,” but she raised her fists again.
Then he saw the tears in her eyes and understood.
She had thought his fighting days were over. She had thought she would never again have to wait at home for him, enduring uncertain days and agonising nights, hoping he hadn’t been badly hurt – or worse.
He took her in his arms, smothering her struggles, until she clung desperately to him while he murmured apologies in her ears. The others on the dock didn’t know whether to good-humouredly voice their encouragement, or leave the two of them to their private moment. Eventually they drifted away along the walkways, heading back to their duties.
Daneesa pushed Hudnee away, and he took her hand, looking contritely down at the dock. The two girls ran up to greet their father with squeals of delight, and he led his family back to their wooden house among the giant trees of the sea forest.
The story of the alliance attack on the mining base at The Barrens became a legend over the following days and quadroons of the Hud year. The attack on The Barrens had been a display of concentrated sound and fire that had been beyond the comprehension of the people of the planet.
There had been some signs of the power and strangeness of life on other planets in the last few years. The militia already knew of the miracles performed by the Human medical team, and some had even seen the strange shape that had fallen out of the sky to bring the medical team to the militia on the march to Roum. The villagers at Shellport knew that Menona reported daily to another planet. But the display at the Barrens had left an indelible mark on the villagers involved.
It was also the topic under discussion at the first council meeting of the following quadroon, when Hudnee, Daneesa, Habna, Menon, Menona and Battrick were once again gathered at Habna’s place to discuss the running of Shellport.
Habna was more steamed up than Hudnee could remember seeing her in a long time.
“I’ve had to speak to several of the villagers about taking down shrines to the pale ones in their houses,” she said emphatically. “For the sake of all we hold dear, what is the matter with them!”
She subsided, clearly making an effort to control herself.
“The Humans are people, just like us. They feel and they think. They are not the powers that run the universe! Slave-like devotion to anything, spiritual or otherwise, just throws away personal power for nothing. There is no growth for a person in that!”
“We know what you mean, Habna,” said Menon reassuringly. “It was you that taught me how people will always be people, and often foolish with it. That’s when we have to show them a better way, and hope they will come round to it when they’re ready.”
Habna snorted. “I know that, it’s just so . . . hard. I was there at the birth of most of these people. They’re like my own, and it hurts me to see them making foolish choices.”
Everyone present nodded. There didn’t seem to be much more any of them could say. Habna knew what she needed to do, she was just having trouble adjusting to the foolishness of some of the villagers.
“Prometheus wants more pilots for the Javelins,” broke in Menona. She was acting in her role as keeper of the sub-space radio Reegis had left behind.
“Despite the fact the war effort now revolves around the Valkrethi,” she said, “Finch tells me Cordez is anticipating further changes, changes that are likely to bring the Javelins back into the front line.”
They were all silent for a while, thinking about the Valkrethi. Menon and Metris had described the immense alloy and composite giants that had landed at Spitzbergen, and how the pale strangers climbed up and rode inside them. It was more than the villagers could really understand.
“We will have to send word much further afield if we want more trainees,” said Menon. Habna had set a limit on the number of villagers who could volunteer from any one area, so those available to hunt, fish and forage for the village did not drop below a reasonable level.
The Shellport scouts were now travelling further afield to recruit volunteers, and it was taking longer to explain the situation to villagers for whom the pale strangers were only rumours.
“Metris and I could start out in a day or two,” said Menon. “Dooplehuel catches at Shellport have been good lately, and some of the land animals are coming back in increasing numbers. Menona tells me we’re ahead on seaweed quotas, and the trial tuber plantings in the sand hills are doing well.”
Menona sighed. She didn’t relish the thought of losing Menon for several quadroons while he went to the villages inland looking for pilots for the alliance Javelins. At least she was unlikely to find herself in Daneesa’s position, with her man caught up in fierce fighting again at the Barrens. She reached across and squeezed Daneesa’s hand.
“Where is Metris?” said Battrick, looking at Menon.
“Down at Spitzbergen, overseeing another load of gravel,” came the reply. Along with the trial plantings of tubers in the sand hills had come decisions by some of the villagers to build Hudnee’s houses of rock, built out of urdra mix as he had named it, along the beaches. That way the workers would be closer to the tuber plantings.
Habna nodded her head to herself, as she often did when she was thinking. She was thinking about the village way of life.
Their society was changing, she realised. They were becoming more settled, and more dependent on the land. Would the old ways of dependence on the sea, building houses among the giant trees of the sea forest, one day be gone?
She would have to think about this, and consider carefully whether it was a good thing or not. She would have to ask herself whether it reall
y mattered in the overall growth of awareness among the people of Hud.
They didn’t know it yet, but the people were about to become part of an interstellar civilisation – when the Hud pilots brought back all the new and strange ways of Promethues after the war.
How would the villagers adapt? How would the settlements keep their young people after they had seen such sights and wonders that everyday life would seem slow and boring?
Leadership, she decided. More training, more councils, more rites of passage. The young people needed to know being part of their own culture meant something. It was a long list of things to do, and she was only one woman.
She sighed. It needed to be done, and soon.
CHAPTER 29
________________
Roberto was presenting some tantalising material to the research team. They’d all been so busy with essential work for the war effort that there had been little time for anything else. Despite his growing interest in the Druanii, and what they looked like, Roberto had only had so much spare time.
Still, he had gathered together a lot more information about this elusive offshoot of the Caerbrindii, and he was still working on the data the research team had downloaded from the main Rothii archive.
Celia was feeling more comfortable with Roberto during their working hours, but when she met him away from the supporting environment of her office, her heart raced and her legs turned to jelly.
“There’s no evidence of a Druanii home planet,” Roberto was saying to the others, “or anything that might be an admin base, a mining site, or a hidden city. Still, they live among the sparse stars and unimaginable distances at the edges of the galaxy. Who knows what’s out there.
“I’ve found mounting evidence they use wormholes to travel extreme distances around the outside of the galaxy. Theirs would be the most sophisticated technology we’ve ever come across in an alien race.”
The research team were silent for a moment. If this were true it would open up incredible possibilities.
“I thought Grisham’s Proof showed the energy to set up a wormhole, if we ever had the technology, was greater than the energy used by the orscantium drive to cover the same distance,” said Andre.
Rise of the Valkrethi Page 17
