“Do what, Celia? Reclaim your dominance? Earth will never know what I’ve given you today.”
Her chest tightened. “What do you …?”
“I wanted you to take the truth to your grave.”
His expression never changed throughout their conversation, so Celia didn’t know how to take this latest threat. What could he possibly do now?
He dropped a cap over his end of the bicomm and said with quick, discourteous style:
“I enjoyed doing business with you, Celia Marsche. Time’s up.”
He vanished.
Celia embraced the sudden silence with a strange sense of triumph that came all too easily. Something did not add up. Something …
The egg flashed in rapid-fire orange. A low rush grew into what sounded like a strong westward wind howling across the fjord.
Celia finally understood.
She ran.
The end came in a flash. She felt no pain, only a nanosecond of realization that no part of her would be left behind.
From the fjord, the three hovering ships witnessed a white detonation consume the upper levels of the estate.
The Marsche family home, four centuries old, imploded and collapsed into the deep forest below.
70
Lioness
T HE SILENCE OVERWHELMED ALL ELSE. From the command bridge, where activity was subdued and robotic. To the immortals’ training arena, where military maneuvers were placed on hold. To the landing bay, where the duty crew waited for new orders.
Twenty hours since losing Ursula Amondala. Eighteen hours since James and Rayna flew into a mad rage upon seeing their fellow hybrid’s body. Seventeen hours since James and Rayna disappeared into their private quarters with their sons. Twelve hours since word arrived from Tamarind confirming two Soldiers of Salvation were incinerated in a firestorm. Eleven hours since Valentin addressed the fleet, instituting a mandatory period of rest and mourning. And now, a standstill.
The quiet drove Valentin mad. Every hour, on the hour, he requested to see his brother. Not even the courtesy of a response.
During this wait, Valentin realized how few friends he had. Yes, the soldiers adored him still, but he could not confide in them. The hybrids had each other – as friends, lovers, spouses. Though he worked with the Officers of Salvation on the bridge every day, he’d never made an effort to strike up relationships for fear of compromising the chain of command. It was the Guard in him, and he regretted the missed opportunity.
He sat alone on the forward captain’s dais. He didn’t want to know what the nine hundred men and women of Salvation were thinking. Did the rogues and Chancellors fear stepping out of line in light of the executions, or did they sense a crack in leadership? Might they overcome their conditioning to plot treason and escape?
Valentin was relieved when Major Rafael Kane joined him at the dais. Valentin raised an audio baffle.
“What do you have, Major?”
“Final assessment of the attack on Tamarind.”
“Anything we don’t already know?”
“Valuable new data from Scramjet Beta. Crew observations, Guard deployment, chain of command for the Carrier Newhouse.”
“Tell me something I’ll find interesting.”
Kane threw open a holowindow. Schematics showed all planet-bound Guard deployments when Spearhead landed through to the time of the attacks.
“As you see, Admiral, they created the illusion of complacency. No Guard vessel within a thousand kilometers of Mandewatt. Even the Newhouse seemed unconcerned. She was maintaining her traditional orbit. She did not slow to achieve geosynchronous state.”
“Strange,” Valentin said. “On the rare occasion Ark Carriers engage in surface combat, they’re required to achieve geo state. Otherwise, the slew targeting systems lose their precision. Yet …”
“They hit the center of a pinprick from thirty thousand kilometers.”
This news unnerved Valentin. “Any ground deployment following the attack?”
“None. Our ships entered fleet-bound Slope an hour later.”
“You mentioned the Newhouse command?”
Kane fingered the window and brought up an image of the oldest Guard officer Valentin ever saw. He studied the accompanying bio.
“Admiral Aldo Cabrise. Hmm. Never heard of him. He’s ancient.”
“Forty-eight years of service.”
“What would possess a man to stay in uniform so long?”
“Redemption?” Kane swiped up to find Cabrise’s early military record. “Cabrise was Carrier Admiral during the Fall of Hiebimini thirty-seven years ago. He was blamed for strategic failures at the time and demoted, but he spent years accusing the Admiralty of the Guard of gross negligence. He said their decisions were directly responsible for the end of Hiebimini and the brontinium supply. He was sent, as you might say, into the desert for many years.
“Spent decades working his way back up the chain. Six months ago, he was appointed Carrier Admiral for the Tamarind fleet.”
Now Valentin was intrigued. “That makes no sense. He’s thirty years older than a typical admiral. Those positions are political ranks, usually gained by leverage or descendancy. I doubt he’d have either.”
“I’ll continue to investigate, sir.”
He slapped Maj. Kane on the back. “Thank you, Rafael. I’ve never seen a harder-working officer. Let me ask you a question. Remember what my brother said about Tamarind? How it would play a vital role after we expel the Chancellory?”
“Yes. Did he ever elaborate?”
“Beyond his line about being the first day and the last day? No. But he’s always insisted we’re on a path, guided by the Jewels. If he’s right, and Tamarind will matter, then I don’t believe Cabrise’s presence is a coincidence. Do you?”
“No, sir.”
“But for now, it’s also irrelevant. Until my brother reveals himself and announces our next move, Cabrise is a concern for another time. Yes?”
Maj. Kane started to turn away, his report concluded, but Valentin decided he couldn’t wait on a notion bubbling in his mind for several hours.
“Major, I think it’s time we increased internal security throughout the fleet. My army can handle the load. I want double the complement on Greenland, Haven, Gemini, and Sunrise. Focus on deployment at all sensitive locations, especially navigation and engineering. Establish a new flight rotation for uplift transfers.”
“Yes, sir. Are you expecting trouble, Admiral?”
“Oh, yes. There’ll be trouble; I’m just not sure from whom.”
Valentin couldn’t sit here and wait for something to happen, but he damn sure was not going to beg his brother to speak. He told the Officers of Salvation where he could be found if anyone cared then left the command bridge.
He found a comfortable seat in the gallery of stellar dome. He visited here on occasion for quiet moments of consideration on how far they’d come, how far that remained. The star fields, punctuated by the Enfidi Horsehead Nebula’s beauty, provided Valentin little pleasure. Instead, they demonstrated the great expanse of their galactic neighborhood. The Collectorate spent centuries colonizing and establishing an empire spanning nine hundred light-years. He and his brother expected to tear it all down in a flash.
Are we truly this insane?
“Seven ships and a few Scrams,” he muttered. “Cloaked in a bubble where nobody can find us. Yes. We are insane.”
Yet, to his equal amazement, Valentin acknowledged they stood on the edge of success. If they could move past their wounds, the investment was in place. They could shake thirty-five billion humans to the core. They could create a future no one imagined possible.
Valentin lost himself in the improbable journey that brought them to this brink. All points began with the woman he ordered executed a day ago. Ophelia was there at the fold, where he met his brother. Again at SkyTower, where she gave up every bit of her leverage to save their lives. There at the rescue of the other eight hybrids. Trying her best to brea
k the Chancellor compliance program. Working with him on a plan to assimilate frightened, confused immortals liberated across much of the Collectorate.
When did they lose the trust? Why couldn’t she have put the guilt of SkyTower behind and supported the new future? It never had to be this way, Ophelia.
Valentin didn’t hear the footsteps approaching.
“He is ready,” said Sister Rayna.
Valentin snapped to attention. His sister-in-law was dressed for war. The buckles, chains, and blades of her Ukrainian upbringing decorated a two-piece bodysuit made of a black fabric almost on par with the Guard’s body armor.
“Be in executive room in twenty minutes time. All Jewels plus immortal command staff and Slope pilots. My husband expects no one to be late. Is this understood?”
“Of course, Rayna. But I am the Admiral of this fleet. Why did James not contact me directly?”
“Does not matter. He is leader. What he says must be obeyed.”
“And what do you say, Rayna? Am I still the incompetent fool you accused me of being before you hid in your quarters?”
She paused for a few seconds, fashioning a widening grin like one she used to display before a raid where she gleefully slaughtered people. Before she became the wife of a living god.
“Apologies. I was much in grief. You are competent officer. But also, you are a fool.”
“Rayna, we’ve been together for two years. All I’ve ever done is protect us.”
She shrugged. “I give credit. You have tried. This time, you failed. No?”
“Rayna, I did everything James asked of me. He did nothing I asked of him. I warned him to suspend the Tamarind operation, and we came seconds from losing both him and Ulrich. I lost two of my soldiers because of my brother’s arrogance.”
He saw it in her glum features: She was not impressed.
“Do not equate losses. Your two soldiers count for nothing compared to Sister Ursula. She was building future for all. If you want more soldiers, kidnap them. There are more on colonies.”
He beat down his ire. “If your husband had not insisted on public theatrics, Sister Ursula would be alive. Did he tell you about his orders? Because as you say, he is leader and must be obeyed.”
Her bewitching grin turned to outright laughter.
“But you do not obey. You always said no when he asked you to kill Ophelia Tomelin. Obey is for always when my husband speaks. You will remember this when he speaks today.”
Valentin had no interest in responding, and Rayna didn’t wait around to listen.
71
E VERYONE ARRIVED IN THE EXECUTIVE room before James and his family, yet no one said a word. Valentin saw it in their body language and vacant stares – none knew what was about to happen, not even the hybrids. Whatever James decided, he did not divulge it in the shared mind.
Rayna entered first, followed by her husband, who wrapped an enormous arm around each of his sons. The rail-thin boys looked like bizarre appendages to their massive father. When he dismissed them, Benjamin and Peter raced to the conference table, fighting each other for the same chair. Rayna slapped them both until they submitted.
Brother James motioned for all others to be seated, but he did not join them. Rather, he stood behind his chair.
Valentin saw a new equation in his brother’s features. The arrogance of invincibility had gone into hiding. In its stead, he saw a pensive man who lost the first of his own kind and who paused to reconsider. He was not a humbled man who sees the light and begs forgiveness. No, James would never allow himself down that road. Still, there was something familiar.
“A long time before I crossed the fold,” James began, his voice low and measured, “I was bullied and mocked. I despised those bastards, not for controlling me but for knowing how to control me. They had an instinct about them. You could see it in the way they walked. The way they slid their eyes toward you like snakes just before they bit.
“I fought back. Spilled some blood. They backed off, but not because they suddenly respected me. No. They left me alone because they had assumed they would always win. They were cowards. People like them, they’ll be cowards all their lives.”
Valentin recognized the familiar. This was the James Bouchet he first grew to know in the days after their duel on Earth and Valentin’s rebirth. The man/boy growing at extraordinary pace was trying to reconcile his past with his destiny.
“I made the same mistake as they did. I assumed victory. I won for too long. No, we won for too long. I knew the Guard would change their tactics. I was warned of the danger. But I continued to assume, and they fought back. They spilled blood.”
His eyes, which largely avoided those at the table, now zeroed in on his tempestuous but immature sons.
“But I am not a coward, and I will not back off. I have bullied them and mocked them every chance I’ve had. Now, I’m going to finish them.”
In an instant, the confused James Bouchet died, replaced by the man-god who Valentin realized had learned nothing at all.
“This is not a time for retreat or reevaluation. This is not a time for confusion or grief. This is the time to strike the final blow.
“Two days from now, we are going to realign the Collectorate. We are going to fulfill every promise we have made to my worshippers. We are going to open the door to our new home world. We are going to walk the path given to us by the Jewels of Eternity. We win our war in two days.”
James took a seat. His eyes bore into everyone except Valentin.
“Starting this hour,” he continued, “I want every member of the fleet focused exclusively on supporting our final attack. Pilot rotations, intership transfers, fueling and engineering operations – these will take priority over all other responsibilities. Major Kane?”
Maj. Rafael Kane saluted. “Yes, Brother James.”
“You, Ulrich, and Joakim will meet with me in one hour to design our Slope navigation. I intend for all six navigators to leave simultaneously for different systems. Rather than return directly to Salvation after eliminating their targets, they will move on to a second and then third group of colonies. We will terrorize humanity above eighteen colonies in less than four hours.”
The gasps were restrained. Though Kane and Ulrich nodded, their responses were muted. Valentin saw it in everyone’s eyes: James wanted them to attempt an unprecedented mission. He wasn’t shocked that James excluded him, but Valentin also wasn’t going to roll over for his brother’s hubris.
“Brother, I see your plan, but may I offer a counterpoint?”
James stared to the far end of the table, locked in Rayna’s eyes.
“No, Admiral, but you will anyway.”
“You intend to hit every colony where we have installed refractors. You want maximum impact, and I see the logic. But if we play every hand we have left and the rest of them call our bluff … where does that leave us?”
“We will not have this problem.”
“And you know this how?”
“Because we will have killed more than a million of them and they won’t know how we did it. Chancellors, like bullies, walk away after a bloody punch.”
“And if they evacuate to the planets rather than return to Earth?”
“Then they will risk their lives in places where they are not wanted. Admiral, my plan considers every possibility. This is no different than what we intended to do over time. I simply decided to accelerate our attack because all the pieces are in place.”
Valentin felt the body language of the room. They weren’t all on James’s side … yet.
“Even if your assumptions about the Chancellors are correct – and I don’t disagree – you are asking the only six Slope-qualified pilots in the universe to navigate more substrata in hours than we have ever attempted in days. There are billions of variables in the quantum algorithms.” He turned to the pilot he most trusted. “Ulrich, can you pull this off without significant danger?”
Ulrich’s eyes darted between the brothe
rs.
“Difficult, yes, but not impossible.”
James rapped the table with his generous knuckles.
“We have traversed the Slope two hundred seventy times,” he said. “Not one failure, Admiral. As you know. Do you think I would put another Jewel or immortal at risk?”
“To prove you’re right? Yes, brother, I think you would.”
Rayna raised her hand as if a student ready to make a point.
“My husband has nothing to prove. Always, he is right. Others fail him who do not believe. But they are gone, and still we walk path to victory. He is father now. He will protect his babies.”
She rubbed her belly. Valentin caught the provocative shift in tone as she glanced the hybrids in their final month of pregnancy.
“Yes,” she said. “Is true. I will have two more babies. My boys will have sisters.”
Smiles all around, and joyful tears from the hybrid women.
Incredible, Valentin thought. She knew exactly the moment to spring the news. He couldn’t read his brother. Did James know she’d go public this way? Had they orchestrated the whole thing? Benjamin and Peter’s dropped jaws proved the boys had no idea.
“Congratulations, Rayna,” he said. “This is great news, especially given yesterday’s tragedy.”
“Yes, it is,” James said. “And there will be many more children. I’ll never put my family at risk, brother. I have taken precautions.”
He reached inside a pouch on his bodysuit and removed a silver egg the size of his palm. Valentin saw this once before, in a holocube of data James transferred after plunging the depths of his mind for Jewel secrets. James continued.
“In the decades before they perished, the race who created the Jewels were searching the galaxy for answers to what was killing them. They created this.” He held it up. “Binary communicators they called Moji’mar’jen. For the sake of ease, we’ll call them bicomms. They use a genetic link to allow two people to speak instantaneously to each other across the universe. Their messages navigate substrata at a level we haven’t yet explored.
“Many months ago, I turned over my designs to Bartok.” He looked at Bartok Hyam with a gesture of pride and condolence. Bartok lost three children when Sister Ursula fell. “He worked with a Chancellor engineer. Just like with our refractors, the engineer never knew the true purpose of the device. But they succeeded.
The Impossible Future: Complete set Page 101
