Iástron

by James C. Dunn

  The smile disappeared from Gordian’s face. ‘Opposition we can deal with. You we can deal with. Do not begin to think you know anything of my lord. Do you think he would do all this without a definitive way to ensure victory on a wider scale?’

  ‘And how can he do that?’

  The Crilshan sat back and looked directly at him. ‘You know where my loyalties lie.’

  Sitting back himself, Ferranti frowned. ‘You truly believe that if Crilshar destroys Titan and exerts its power over every last man, woman, and child, that humanity’s survival will be ensured?’

  ‘Crilshar’s survival. I mention nothing of humanity.’

  ‘How? Tell me how.’

  ‘You know where my loyalties lie,’ Gordian repeated. ‘I can say no more.’

  Ferranti sighed, stood. ‘For now.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  ANNA WOKE TO silence. Dripping in sweat, she gazed into the blackness of her room, remembering at once where she was. And why she was here. Ghostly images of her dream surrounded her in her bed, and she began to cry. ‘Leave me alone,’ she pleaded. All she wanted was to close her eyes and not be haunted by her nightmares.

  But they would not leave her alone. The pale man. Gilaxiad . . .

  Activating the light above her bed Anna looked over to where Gílana slept soundly. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘My selfishness has caused so much trouble. So much grief. So much . . .’

  She sat up, her blanket draped over her, and she wrapped her arms around her legs. Unable to go back to sleep, she sat there until morning. Part of her wanted to continue with what she and Jon had planned; it seemed silly to give up. It would mean his death was for nothing. Maybe she could go on and find a way to Earth alone, and keep Jon alive by accomplishing their dream.

  But there was Gílana to consider. Anna had allowed her to be trapped on the Stellarstream with them. It was only right that she ensured her sister returned safely, was it not?

  Only, she feared what her uncle would be like if she went back. They had parted on such awful terms, not imagining she’d ever see him again, and she was in no hurry to go strolling back into his home, whether or not Captain Ferranti had told him of their brave deeds on Rotavar. Leaving Titan was not her greatest choice; deciding whether or not to go back was.

  * * *

  On the second day of their journey home from Rotavar Anna took to roaming the halls of the mighty vessel. Though she had been warned not to stray from her quarters without an escort, she could not stay confined any more, and so left her sister sleeping. Gílana had been complaining of stomach ache, and had slept for most of the day anyway. She almost lost her way in the vast, cold labyrinth; eventually, however, a vivid, blue-bursting light could be seen down one of the long corridors. Her curiosity, as always, prevailed.

  Each hour of the so-far silent journey had faded into one another; time lingered unbearably and the mood of everyone she came into contact with offering little welcome. For the crew of the Stellarstream, it seemed, the pain of Rotavar was still very much fresh in their minds.

  Fortunately she did not run into any of the crew as she moved along the interior walkway and across a narrow bridge. The blue flashes became brighter, more intense, and around the corner she peered through a small window of a metal hatch, discovering at last the source of the glow. Inside she saw a large room, lit with blinding flashes of the bright-blue light. High up and overlooking the room were a number of soldiers, clad in gold and black and stood still and exact, watching the clash below, where two masked figures hurled bolts of blue and purple electric forks across the room at each other. In their right hands Anna recognised the source of the energy: the standard coilbolts of a Titanese Guard. Across their other arms were black, rectangular, rubber-like shields through which they caught the electric bolts and in turn fired their own.

  ‘Amazing!’ she said to herself. ‘An actual coilbolt duel.’

  ‘You ever played?’ said a voice from behind.

  Anna spun, angry that she had once again found herself caught, to see a young, dark-skinned woman, only a few years older than her. She stood before her, dressed also in form-fitting black and gold.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Anna said. ‘I know I’m not supposed to . . . it’s just . . . so . . . amazing.’

  The woman smiled. ‘You’re certainly right there, Anna.’

  Anna was not surprised that she knew her name, and so smiled weakly in reply. Quite surprisingly the woman held her hand to her breast in acknowledging salute. Anna wasn’t sure how to react, and so settled on a terse nod.

  ‘Have you ever fought?’ the woman asked.

  ‘Only a little. I’m not very good.’ As with most things, she realised.

  ‘Nor am I,’ she replied with a girlish grin. ‘Still, there’s nothing like the crack and boom of a coilbolt duel to get your blood pumping.’

  Before Anna could reply the hatch behind her opened and Captain Ferranti stood in the doorway, sweating. ‘Anna,’ he said, as though he had been expecting her. ‘I see you’ve met Lieutenant Avila.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. She’s your minder while you’re with us.’

  ‘Minder?’

  ‘I thought it best to keep my distance,’ Avila said. ‘I watched you down here.’ To Ferranti she said, ‘She’s quite safe, sir.’

  ‘Good,’ he answered. ‘Anna, care to accompany me to the viewing bridge?’

  Anna did not need asking twice. ‘Yes . . . oh . . . yes, definitely.’

  ‘Come on then,’ he said, wiping his face with a towel and throwing his arm-shield to a pursuing Guard.

  While Lieutenant Avila followed behind, Anna tailed Ferranti through the halls of the vessel in silence, walking a pace or two behind until they came to the viewing centre of the ship. If she remembered her classes at the Institute correctly, large vessels such as the Stellarstream could be operated with very few crewmembers, from the control room at the centre of the ship. The captain would normally remain at the viewing centre, however, and direct the entire company from up there.

  Ferranti had explained, with a noticeable lack of detail, how the assassin Gordian had butchered many of his crew. Thankfully the majority were not on board when the attack had taken place. And so, resting above the forward section of the Stellarstream, the viewing centre was bustling with diligently-focused men and women.

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she said, gazing at the projection screen displaying the endless canvass of black, joined by distant clouds of colours she had never even seen before. ‘I wonder which one is Saturn.’

  ‘Well,’ the Captain said with a chuckle, ‘none of them are.’

  She turned to him. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I thought someone had been to explain it to you, Anna.’

  ‘Nobody’s told me anything. I thought . . . are we not going home?’

  The Captain guided her down the sloping platform, and beneath the projection wall they sat on a blue-padded bench. It was the room’s only secluded spot. Avila stood nearby, keeping herself busy by subtly checking on silent viewing centre crewmembers.

  ‘I’ve spoken with your uncle,’ Ferranti said. ‘Be it only briefly, as we’re almost out of communicative range.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Where are we?’

  ‘We’re on the outer edge of the Fourth System,’ he said. ‘Here, among the few Accentauriban planets and moons, our help is needed most. Titan is safe under the General’s command for now. He has been named as Titan’s Lord, following the deaths of Lady Pinzón and General Mauldeth. He’s also managed to persuade the Council to keep some of our vessels in locations of need. And we’re in the right place, at the right time.’

  ‘So where are we headed?’

  ‘We will be going home soon. I promise. But first we must deliver supplies by means of an outpost to a Titanese aid vessel working with one of the outer worlds of Enustine.’

  ‘How far away are we?’ she asked, all of a sudden feeling intensel
y claustrophobic at the thought of being trapped on the vessel for yet more time.

  Ferranti rested a hand on her shoulder. ‘We’ll arrive at our destination tomorrow. An outlying outpost we call Aurora.’

  Anna gazed up at the screen of black space before them. While she was frustrated she had not been told what was happening, the thought that she was headed to the outer edges of manned space, farther than many had ever gone, electrified her way more than most thoughts.

  ‘Anna,’ Ferranti then said with a touch of grim importance. ‘I’m afraid I have some more news. Something you may find upsetting.’

  ‘What is it, Ferranti?’

  ‘It’s Callista,’ he said. ‘Back on Titan, Gordian . . . he got to her.’

  ‘She . . . She’s dead?’

  ‘No, she’s alive. But only just. She’s in something of a neutral state. The doctors have so far been unable to wake her.’

  Anna scraped her hand through her hair. ‘She’ll be okay. I know she will.’

  Ferranti nodded. ‘She’s a strong old Iástron. Stronger than me by far.’

  Anna frowned. ‘You know about her?’

  ‘Don’t go thinking there are many of us, Anna,’ he whispered. ‘Besides your uncle, you and I are her only students. She’s my Iástron too.’

  ‘I didn’t know. She never said.’

  He laughed. ‘She’s good at that.’

  Anna looked down. ‘Callista’s never trusted me. She lies to me. Keeps me in the dark. She doesn’t believe in me, and she’s right.’

  ‘A grouchy old crow she may be,’ he said. ‘But she’s wiser than any who now live. You wouldn’t be her student if there wasn’t something special she sees in you. Callista trusts you. Trust me.’

  The Captain stood. He straightened his back and pleated training outfit and said, ‘Something important has occurred to me, Anna Berenguer.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We left Titan the night of your birthday.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Tonight, the night before we reach Aurora, I’m to have a gathering in memory of those we lost on Rotavar. Life and death are worth marking together. Tonight we’ll also celebrate your birthday. Come to my quarters later; I’ll send details and dress-ware to your room for you and Gílana. Be there,’ he said with another smile, before walking out of the viewing platform and leaving her sat, in the company of Lieutenant Avila, pondering his words as they journeyed into the deepest space.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  GORDIAN LOOKED UP from the uncomfortable seat in the centre of his cell. His guard preferred not to look at him. Rightly so, he thought. Then again, the lack of attention; the arrogance in thinking this place could contain him; the failure to recognise who one should and should not trust . . .

  The Titanese thought he was trapped.

  Fools.

  Even in confinement his masters revealed their presence. The Rotavarian chief had paid a welcome visit before they had left that filthy desert planet, courtesy of whosoever had sent him on his mission in the first place. No words had been spoken, but Gordian’s freedom was granted.

  His guard turned around and the assassin stared, unblinking. Then he smiled. It was too easy. The guard frowned, and twisted back.

  Not long now, he thought. Not long now.

  * * *

  When Anna and Gílana Berenguer entered the captain’s private quarters that night, they were shocked to find a long table already lined with a dozen guests, in addition to an astonishing array of food and drink. All were attended to by a host of well-groomed servants—from maids to kitchen staff. Everybody watched the sisters as they moved along the table, hoping to find two empty seats. Anna saw their faces, and bowed her head. She knew that many of them were muttering, mouthing words, whispering about how she had slipped aboard the vessel and caused the deaths of their crewmates.

  ‘Over here!’ came a voice from the end of the table.

  Anna looked over and recognised the old gentleman, now considerably less bloody than when she had seen him in the control centre in the face-off with Gordian.

  ‘Over here!’ he said again, pointing to a couple of empty seats near the head of the table. ‘I’ve saved them especially.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘How’re you feeling?’

  ‘Oh, much better.’ He stood and held two chairs out for them. ‘The captain should be along in a moment. Don’t mind this lot,’ he said, gesturing to the line of officers which, after ignoring the sisters, had begun to talk among themselves once again. ‘Too stuck up their own backsides to acknowledge the fact that you saved their lives.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Anna said. ‘We really didn’t—’

  ‘Nonsense! You’re both heroes. I won’t hear otherwise. Naffan’s the name.’

  ‘Anna,’ said Anna.

  ‘Gílana,’ her sister added.

  ‘Of course you are! You—’

  He was interrupted by the screeching of chairs as everyone stood to greet Captain Ferranti. Dressed in a silver version of his usual military uniform, he strode from his quarters to the head of the table, and after flashing Anna a brief smile signalled for everybody to sit. He remained standing and an attendant handed him a crystal glass filled with sparkling white wine. Raising it he said to the group, ‘In the name of our mother, Titan, please put your glasses together in remembrance of the brave men and women we lost on Rotavar. Our mission there found success. Rotavar is free. But, as usual, it came at a cost.’ He raised his glass. ‘To the silent.’

  ‘To the silent,’ all repeated.

  Before long food was served, and conversation began between the twenty-five guests. Many spoke of numerous topics Anna barely grasped; although she picked up on a few words and phrases being tossed about: words like Crilshar, Enustine, and she definitely heard somebody mention Yux Dishan. Jon often spoke of those things, but she had never really listened. She wished he were there with her.

  ‘Anna!’ Ferranti’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. ‘Miss Berenguer?’

  ‘Sorry . . . I’m sorry,’ she said, looking up and almost dropping a spoonful of stewed chicken-leaf that had gone cold as she daydreamed. ‘What . . . What was it?’

  ‘Nothing too important,’ he said, raising his eyebrows. ‘You sure you’re okay? You don’t seem to be eating much.’

  ‘I’m not too hungry. I don’t think either of us is.’ She turned to Gílana, but found that her sister was stuffing herself with mouthful after mouthful. ‘Or maybe just me,’ she said. ‘Nice to see you with your appetite back, sis.’

  ‘Om, um, nom,’ came Gílana’s reply.

  Anna and Ferranti laughed loudly. The Captain snorted, fortuitously spitting some of his potato into the communal soup bowl in the inner table. Anna attempted to hide her amusement as she watched his eyes widen, scanning the guests to see if any had noticed. To his luck they had not. They caught each other’s eye and burst out laughing, catching the attention of much of the table.

  That had done the trick. She began to speak with Ferranti and forgot what had been troubling her. The Captain recounted myriad tales about his travels, and told her all about his visit to Earth.

  ‘The most extraordinary and beautiful place!’ he cried, after a few too many glasses of wine, one of his blond curls drooping down in front of his eyes. ‘There are no space vessels in sight! The sky is pure blue in the day and complete black at night! Oh, I do believe that rhymed!’

  Anna sat back, grinning and enjoying herself for the first time in so long she actually felt guilty. Gílana was busy chatting to everyone around her, asking questions, and eradicating any sign of a full plate. After the main meal Lieutenant Mica Avila joined the group and sat on the other side of Ferranti, beside old Naffan. It turned out Naffan, a plump, kind gentleman, was the Stellarstream’s Central Commander, and responsible for the running of the ship’s engines. Which is why Gordian had needed him back on Rotavar, she realised. He had plenty of tales to tell himself. For what seemed like hours the
four discussed many things and Anna finally felt as though she had found her place, where she was meant to be. With a crew, with people that understood her, doing something amazing and meaningful.

  Talk soon turned to their current mission. ‘It is not our duty to be out here,’ one pilot-commander reasoned. ‘Of all Alignment bodies, ours is left to fight the fight, then pick up the pieces, and take the blame too!’

  ‘Our duty is whatever we’re told it is,’ Avila countered.

  ‘And you would do well to remember it,’ Commander Naffan added.

  Ferranti sat back, nodding to an attendant, who quickly refilled his glass.

  Anna leaned towards Avila. ‘Why are we going to Aurora? Rotavar was freed, wasn’t it?’

  ‘It was, Anna. But Crilshar’s fleet had already moved on by the time we reached the world.’

  ‘Moved on to Enustine?’

  ‘Exactly. The Enusti Empire is powerful, and could likely fight Crilshar’s fleet and win. But there are other worlds here in Accentaurib. The Queendom on Samos is not as strong as it thinks it is, and Samos’ relationship with Enustine has never been healthy. There’s so much discord and conflict, before Crilshar ever came here. On Titan it is clear that Accentaurib cannot fall. The Alignment worlds would not survive if Crilshar gained the Fourth System.’

  ‘So my uncle’s right. We have to help them in any way we can.’

  ‘Your uncle is a brave man, Anna. You’re very lucky to have him.’

  Nearby, Ferranti giggled to himself.

  ‘Amusing yourself over there?’ Avila mocked.

  ‘You two are amusing me,’ he said. ‘Less talk of war and Crilshar at my table, please. Enough. Tell me about you, Anna.’ He rocked on his chair slightly. ‘I’ve heard plenty about you. Callista tells me you’re fascinated with planet Earth.’

  ‘Humanity’s home,’ said Naffan, joining in. ‘Jolly good! Beautiful place!’

  ‘Yes,’ Anna said. ‘For as long as I can remember. Callista used to show me pictures and music and read me poetry and stories about its people, hundreds and even thousands of years old.’

  ‘There are very few Earth enthusiasts among the Systems,’ Lieutenant Avila said, taking a small sip of wine.

  ‘Indeed!’ agreed Naffan. ‘Not enough if you ask me.’