“We’re on it, Admiral,” a Lieutenant said, huddling with his team.
Forsythe pointed to a broad graphic overview of the system indicating where Praxis was located in relation to the planet and the Nexus point.
“If our theory is right,” Forsythe said, “we should be invisible. With their limited capacity, including three less ships, they’ll almost certainly be focusing their energy on the route between Hiebimini and the Nexus. They’ll never see us come up the rear. Frankly, Admiral, we could have jumped in much closer with little risk.”
“I appreciate the thought, but another officer recently reminded me how much we’ve underestimated these people. We can learn everything we need from here, but it might take us a few minutes longer. Worth the gamble, Captain. This is why we’re using a science vessel. Best equipped for long-range survey.”
She winked at Nilsson, as if expecting him to thank her for the kudos. He wasn’t in the mood.
Twenty nervous minutes later, the planetary survey hit gold.
“And you’re certain of this?” Poussard asked the science team.
“Yes, Admiral. All advanced functions are congested here, within an eight-kilometer radius. We’re also detecting radiation signatures consistent with wormhole activity as well as Carbedyne nacelle emissions, plus industrial and agricultural activity.”
She asked the team to zoom in on the region, but the best images of surface features were difficult to distinguish. However, a cluster of structures pinpointed the heart of the settlement.
“Seems like significant activity given four months and a few hundred settlers,” she said. “They have been very busy. Thoughts?”
“Difficult to say,” Forsythe replied. “We’ll need to move considerably closer to sharpen these images and make a thorough analysis. But if you study the topography, it appears the settlement is nestled against a dramatic rise in elevation to its north. In other words, backed up against a wall.”
“Hmm. Not a smart military strategy for a so-called god. They must have believed we’d never come after them.”
“Your orders?” Forsythe said.
She turned to Nilsson and lowered her voice. “What do you think?”
“Given what we see, I would come in here.” He pointed to the settlement’s north boundary. “It’s almost certainly the least defended and the shortest route for my team.”
“Good,” she said in a hushed tone. “We’ll try to land you as close to the surface as we can but prepare for the worst.”
“Gravmods will be activated.”
“Excellent. I think this will …”
She took a step back and appeared to revisit the idea. But Nilsson realized the Admiral’s eyes caught another holowindow, one examining the planet on a larger context.
“What was that?” She asked to no one in particular.
“Excuse me, Admiral?” Forsythe said.
“There. Focus on the regional telemetry. Extend it outward from the settlement. No, no. Not so fast. Go back in. Wait. Now. There! Do you see it?”
All eyes on the command bridge focused on the image, but no one appeared on the same page with Poussard.
“It’s incredible,” she said. “Do we have other convex angles?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “How do you not see them? They’re thin but incredibly tall.”
A Presidium rep yelled, “Yes, I see them.” Three officers followed.
“Ah, yes,” Forsythe said. “Almost impossible to see from this angle. But yes, and they’re … wait …”
“There’s eight of them,” Poussard said. “I do believe I’m looking at a circle. Yes? And what, dear protectors of the Chancellory, appears to lie directly in the center of that circle?”
The graphics moved swiftly, highlighting eight spikes and conveying the geographic relationship between these structures and the settlement. But the data confirmed it: The concentric circle, distance between the towers and the settlement, and tower height.
“OK then,” Poussard said. “That’s new. And I very much doubt a few hundred terrorists did this in four months. I believe they possess a secret weapon. Yes?” She turned to Nilsson and whispered. “Go to the landing bay. Prepare your team.”
“Yes, Admiral.” Nilsson wanted to stick around to see where this madness was headed. On his way out, however, Nilsson heard Poussard’s newest pronouncement:
“The best way to defeat a secret weapon is to expose it. Hmmph. These lunatics have given us the key to victory.”
60
JaRa
V ALENTIN BOUCHET SMELLED DEATH. It was not the resurrect-fifteen-minutes-later variety. No, this was the permanent rot of soldiers decaying on the battlefield. It was the unforgivable slaughter of lives cut short too soon because of humanity’s neverending folly. He honed this sense of smell as a soldier of the Guard. He embraced its unique essence when he crisscrossed the Collectorate murdering alongside James and Rayna and later watched Berserkers atomize thousands of humans with no more than malicious will.
Today, the smell was more hideous because it was personal. He was about to lose family no matter his choice of action. Play this horribly wrong, and the last smell would be his own burning flesh. Perhaps he deserved it. Maybe both brothers should pay the ultimate price for the misery they inflicted upon the galaxy.
Valentin wasn’t prepared to render so drastic a judgment now. He had family to save. They were children; they deserved better.
Six of them stood shoulder to shoulder inside the Scramjet, awaiting their final orders. The bloodstains were removed from their armor, and their hair was wet from a necessary washing in the Bengalese River. The Scramjet sat outside the industrial sector, where it was kept as the sole ground-based ship. All other vehicles patrolled in space.
“I realize these events have been difficult to process,” Valentin told them. “But our fortunes have turned. We cannot rely on our external defenses to ward off the entire enemy. Questions?”
They stood erect, eyes burrowing into their Admiral. Resolute, silent, focused on the same goal as every other day: Victory.
“Good,” Valentin said. “Not a word of the events you witnessed, not even among yourselves. Report to your duty stations. Amp any relevant intel directly to me. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison, fist over chest.
“Outstanding. You’re dismissed.”
He thought of quarantining these six while they posed a security risk; but taking them out of the fight was not an option. He needed all seven hundred and two immortals engaged. Their specific role was new, but the hybrids would pose no objections.
Valentin pivoted to Col. Arnaud Joosten. A fine soldier, one of the best at training newly liberated immortals, and a Slope-skilled navigator. Valentin trusted Joosten, although he was no substitute for Col. Miguel Lennox, who would have handled this mission if he weren’t recovering from his burns in a medpod.
“Your thoughts, Colonel?”
Joosten was visibly shaken by Michael Cooper’s arrival. What he learned thereafter brought the same combination of skepticism and heartbreak as it did to the six younger soldiers.
“We already face the possibility of a siege too massive for us to handle,” he said. “This new strategy places our defense of the city at risk, Admiral. Several days ago, we celebrated Inauguration with them. It was the first time I’ve seen immortals and hybrids mix with a sense of unity. These other two, Michael and Samantha, say the hybrids will betray us. But who are the real traitors here?”
“Arnaud,” he said, a brotherly hand resting on the Colonel’s shoulder, “I won’t dispute your points, but consider this. Many incidents have occurred between my brother and I, and the hybrids, that I’ve never told my people about. Why? I wanted to maintain our bonds. We never could have come this far had we fractured.”
“Then there must be a way out of this insanity,” Joosten said.
“I am not giving up, Arnaud. We may yet fight side by side one more time. Howev
er, neither my brother nor any hybrid has lifted a finger to assist in our war preparation. Does this not give you pause?”
Joosten frowned. “We have never inserted them as combat soldiers. I assumed we were leaving them in reserve to use targeted Berserkers against enemy ships and ground troops.”
“And if they decide their only hope for survival is scorched earth? Do you think they will take care to avoid immortals when they target their Berserkers at the enemy?”
“I would hope.”
“As would I, Colonel, but they have biological children. We do not. They have an imperative that may overrule all others.”
“If we do this, Admiral, we’ll be haunted by it for the rest of our lives. They have always been our partners.”
“When they’ve chosen to be. Yes. Will you stand with me on what we may have to do?”
Joosten stood erect, hands clamped behind his back, shoulders firm.
“You liberated me, Admiral. I stand with you to the end.”
“Thank you, Arnaud. Now, return to your post in Haven. Oversee final operations. Await to hear from me and Cooper. Dismissed.”
As a soldier of the Guard, Valentin was never flexible. He followed orders, practiced maximum efficiency in every task from crowd control to missions under codename: Scorch. A solid plan was just that. Alterations, especially at the last minute, smelled of indecision and desperation. Consistent inflexibility worked for centuries. He followed those principles in his original conceits regarding JaRa’s defenses, face-to-face combat strategies, and offworld missions.
Now, beset by both indecision and desperation, Valentin felt queasy as he shifted those plans in the final hour. He double-tapped his amp and threw open a holocube. Admiral Rafael Kane nodded from the command bridge of Lioness.
“Admiral Kane, sit-rep.”
“All patrols report quiet, sir.”
“And they will continue to do so until it’s too late, I fear.”
“Sir?”
“The Guard is not going to come at us through the Nexus. They may try to dismantle the refractors, but they possess a weapon we never imagined. Admiral Kane, divert resources to a full system patrol. If I’m correct, you will detect an enemy target soon at our GPNM flank.”
Kane nodded. “Yes, sir. And when we make contact?”
“I’m going to send a data package to your admin stack. I’ve painted three scenarios. The first entails a strange request, but one you must fulfill. Precision on all three will be essential.”
“Yes, sir. Kane out.”
Valentin took a deep breath, held it, and released.
“I am not going to fail my people.”
He left the Scramjet and entered Haven, where the last few immortals suited up and the command center busily managed the final touchup on defensive preparations. He learned the process would be completed three hours ahead of schedule. Helpful, considering the classified adjustments known only to a few.
Valentin headed deep into the ship to deliver the only good news he might give anyone until after the battle was finished. Yet Samantha was not waiting in the secured room where he sequestered her before leaving ninety-five minutes earlier. He checked other nearby quarters. Nothing.
He returned to the command center and spoke with Lt. Jess Falmuth, who ran operations in Col. Joosten’s absence.
“Lt. Falmuth, did Samantha Pynn leave Haven this morning?”
“Yes,” the young officer said, her smile dissipating. “Twenty minutes ago.”
“Lieutenant, she was under strict quarantine. I know Col. Joosten passed along those orders to you.”
He saw the nervous twitch in the fifteen-year-old girl’s right eye.
“Yes, Admiral. I had no choice. I told them Ms. Pynn could not leave, but they insisted we didn’t have authority.”
“Who insisted?”
“Brother James’s sons, Benjamin and Peter.”
“I see. And how does their word supersede mine?”
“It doesn’t, sir. I told them so. They left very angrily but said they’d return. A few minutes later, Sister Rayna arrived. She made demands. She said Samantha was under Brother James’s protection and was his Ambassador to Earth. She said Samantha was needed for an important event. I’m sorry, Admiral. I wasn’t strong enough. She’s …”
Valentin waved her off. “I understand. Rayna does not like to be crossed. Return to your duties, Lieutenant. I’ll take it from here.”
Valentin stepped away from the command center and retreated to the room where he left Sam. What was Rayna up to? There were no events on the calendar, and the hybrids made no announcements. He brushed off the idea that somehow Rayna was one step ahead. Or worse yet, was scheming with her husband to preempt Valentin’s plan.
He tapped his amp but didn’t open a cube.
“Cooper,” he said.
“Here,” Michael replied. “Tell Sam the good news?”
“Working on it. We have a complication. What’s your status?”
“Holding pattern.”
“And the other one?”
Michael laughed. “Still grumbling, but he’ll do what we need.”
“Good. I sent the data. Anticipate rendezvous. Be careful, Michael. I have a feeling we won’t be in control much longer. Valentin out.”
His chest tightened with an overwhelming instinct Michael was right: Their fate was no longer measured in days. At best, they had hours. At worst, the sky would fall on top of them at any minute.
61
W HAT DO YOU MEAN? IS HE OUT OF HIS MIND?”
Valentin wasn’t halfway across the city when he received the news from his command center. The hybrid leadership was about to publicly announce a celebration to be held at the future amphitheater where James oversaw Inauguration. Valentin stopped his rifter and spit his words while replying to Col. Joosten.
“Do not broadcast that message. Yes, Joosten, I know it’s a violation of JaRa protocol. Most of our forces have been deployed. If we pull them away, we are inviting disaster. No. Accept the announcement but hold it from the public stream. I’ll buy you time.”
What are you trying to pull, brother?
Valentin pressed the steering arms forward and maneuvered a reckless path through the city streets until he entered the hybrid residential sector. Brother James huddled with Bartok Hyam and Joakim Cardenas. All four of Joakim’s rapidly developing children played nearby.
“Bartok, Joakim,” Valentin said, hiding his anger behind a veil.
“Admiral Valentin,” Bartok said. “How goes the war preparation?”
“We’re making great progress. The city is well defended. I wish the hybrids had more of a sense of urgency. Brother James, may I speak privately?”
James dismissed the others, but Valentin caught the hint of a shared mocking grin among the three. Or maybe paranoia was making observations for him.
“Brother,” he said through clenched teeth, dampening the volume. “We are under threat of imminent invasion. In addition, I have just learned you and Rayna plan to hold a public celebration this morning. Something about a birth ceremony?”
“Yes. A new tradition. We will formally present Martina and Irina to our community. You have a problem with this?”
“James, I have worked nonstop to secure our city and our people. We are finally ready. Every soldier knows what to do and where to be. If they are called away to the amphitheater, we will be fodder for an aerial bombardment. Immortals and hybrids. Please, delay the ceremony until we can guarantee your safety.”
James looked away. “It’s a beautiful morning. Yes? The ceremony goes forward. But, if it makes you happy, we’ll be glad to receive all immortals not posted to the front lines. We’ll start with the six who arrived moments ago. Our, um, security detail? Really, Valentin! You believe we stand a better chance with those six children guarding our sector? The last time one of your people tried to protect a hybrid, Sister Ursula was killed.”
Valentin dispatched the soldiers who Mich
ael gunned down under the guise of a security detail for the hybrids. Their true purpose was to monitor hybrid movements and amp their intel directly to Valentin. He knew James and the others wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. They’d go about their business without acknowledging the immortals. Perfect.
“This is going to come undone, brother. We’ll be at war before the sun disappears.”
“You’re very precise in your prediction, Valentin. What intelligence have you not shared with me?”
“I’ve shared everything you asked for.”
James stifled a laugh. “Clever answer. When the ceremony is done, you and I will sit for a war council, and you’ll share all the intel.”
“Agreed. There’s another matter. Samantha Pynn is missing. I’ve been told Rayna took her.”
“Yes. She’s in our dome now.”
“For what reason?”
“She’s the Ambassador to Earth. Reason enough. Why do you care? More to the point, why was Samantha in private quarters inside Haven?”
“She came to me looking for protection. A few of my soldiers threatened her. She’s a Chancellor, after all.”
James licked his considerable lips.
“Interesting choice. A few days ago, my wife encountered Samantha. She said you arrived to break up the reacquaintance.”
“James, I don’t have time for your pointless innuendo. You brought Samantha here. The least you can do is keep her safe.”
“Of course. I would never harm our ambassador.”
“But Rayna would. Yes?”
James turned away, his hand waving in a gesture of dismissal.
“Goodbye, brother. I’ll see you at our ceremony.”
Valentin’s mind whirred. He grew up as a Chancellor, the son of Emil and Frances Bouchet. Valentin had a nose for conspiracies.
62
S AM RECOGNIZED THE LOOK in their eyes. She saw it often in high school boys hunting for an opportunity to end their virginity. Their stare was as lewd and hapless as the predators who trapped freshmen girls at their lockers and smooth-talked their way into extracurriculars. Was that only three years ago? At least those boys waited until they were old enough to drive on a learner’s permit. But this? Sam never felt so violated.
The Impossible Future: Complete set Page 142
