Vontaura

by James C. Dunn

  ‘We’re leaping?’

  ‘We’re about to.’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘Ultimatt paths.’ He pointed his finger at a line like lightning now striking across the room. ‘That path is the one we will follow. It jumps through Accentauria and Proxima, not stopping until it reaches Titan, back in the First System.’ He chuckled. ‘Now look down.’

  Anna took a step back. The ocean of light through layers of black shone bright purple around flickering blue. Something writhed deep beneath. Something surged and bubbled up. It was an unbelievable sight, more beautiful than a surrogate sunrise, more dazzling than her first glimpse of silent space. And yet it made sense. It was an eruption of power and energy, controlled and precise and exact in its unrivalled supremacy. The leap began.

  EIGHT

  BACK THROUGH AND into the Stellarstream’s control centre, Anna found Callista and told her everything about the ultimatt hub, the leap, and her bracelet’s disturbing effect on the entire process. Callista listened, but gave no answer. Anna didn’t push the problem; there was a lot going on right now. Her own problems were just that: her own.

  Once they were sure that they were on the correct path, no trackers following from Enustine, Ferranti and Gordian joined them. The former nursed his broken arm, while the Crilshan stood back, taciturn.

  Callista broke the silence. ‘What now?’

  Ferranti removed his hand from in front of his mouth, pushing a curl of blond hair over his ear. ‘Now we get our answers.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘The professor and the doctor. Kramer and Ketrass. I want to know who they were working for, and what exactly they were doing on Erebus.’

  ‘And you think they will tell you?’

  ‘I’ll make them tell me.’ He signalled Gordian. ‘We need to bring them up from the holding cells.’

  The Crilshan smirked. ‘I forgot they were down there.’

  ‘You forgot? You were the one supposed to be making sure they were fed. It’s been four days!’

  ‘He’s joking,’ Callista said.

  ‘You read me like a book, Iástron,’ Gordian consented.

  Ferranti strode from the room with Gordian in tow. Anna said nothing to Callista, who sat in silent contemplation, eyes closed. Before long the two returned with the one-handed Professor Kramer and an extremely agitated-looking Avéne Ketrass. Both had been bound at the hands, though it seemed Gordian paid particular heed to Ketrass’ discomfort and did not hold her half as firmly as the Titanese captain held Kramer. The professor eyed Anna in his loathsome manner. His one Crilshan eye – set with a red iris and dark, black sclera – focused on her especially out of all those in the room, a sardonic smile plastered across his thin lips.

  She flicked her arm behind her back, concealing the silver-black band around her right wrist.

  ‘There are a few things we need to discuss,’ Ferranti said. ‘Don’t you think?’

  Kramer tilted his head. ‘What if I say no?’ It was obvious he enjoyed having a certain sense of power over others.

  ‘What about you?’ Ferranti turned to Avéne Ketrass. She sat beside Kramer with mid-length dark hair, beautiful features, and tight-held lips. ‘You want to tell us what you know?’

  She shook her head. ‘I know nothing. I was there for five years. Only half the time everybody else was.’

  ‘Five years? So everyone else was there for ten?’

  Kramer rolled his eyes.

  ‘Ten years,’ Anna said. ‘That’s how long ago my father went missing.’

  Ferranti turned back to Kramer. ‘So Dathlan Berenguer was there from the beginning too?’

  ‘He was,’ Kramer said.

  ‘How? Tell me how.’

  ‘Where do you want me to start? With the little fact that it was a Titanese vessel and crew which found Erebus ten years back?’

  Anna breathed out. ‘The Novastream. Was the vessel the Novastream?’ Her father, Dathlan, had captained the Novastream for three years before it went missing in action.

  ‘The Novastream,’ he said. ‘Yes. Yes, that was its name.’

  ‘What were you doing on board a Titanese vessel?’ Ferranti asked.

  ‘That’s irrelevant, Captain. I was there and I saw it all. We leapt practically blind after our vessel came under attack, crossing into Accentaurib. We were pursued, but our Crilshan shadows became ever more lost than we.’

  ‘Nobody on that missing Titanese vessel was ever heard from again. Why?’

  ‘They chose—’

  ‘Bullshit! I knew Dathlan Berenguer. He would never abandon his family, for anyone or anything!’

  ‘Now, now, Captain. Never say never.’

  His teeth gritted. ‘He would never.’

  Kramer shifted uncomfortably. ‘That is of course assuming that he knew he had a family.’

  Callista stepped closer. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘There are forces in this galaxy far beyond our control or understanding.’

  ‘Tell me what you mean.’

  ‘Very well, I will tell you. Just remember, I had no control over these events. My role was scientific ninety-nine percent of the time.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘A woman. My Córonat sent a woman. One of his kind.’

  Callista breathed in. ‘A Iástron?’

  ‘Favoured servant of the Córonat himself. He sent her as soon as the discovery was reported to him.’

  ‘And she had a power?’

  ‘A power over the minds of men. She took their memories in the palm of her hand and crushed them. Including your poor father,’ he said to Anna.

  ‘You don’t look at her again,’ Ferranti said, stepping between them, ‘never mind speak! I’m telling you, you piece of filth. Got it?’

  Kramer smirked. He didn’t move an inch.

  ‘So this woman,’ Callista said. ‘She wiped the crew’s minds, but left yours intact?’

  ‘My loyalties lay already with the Córonat. As did Commander Lesper’s. No force in hell or otherwise would have dragged us from such a discovery. Captain Berenguer, Lesper, and myself formed a triumvirate which lasted a decade.’

  ‘Until you decided to kill my father,’ Anna said. The group looked at her. She blushed.

  Callista ignored Kramer’s smirk. ‘This woman, this Iástron, how old was she?’

  ‘Middle-aged, at a guess. Hard to tell. She suffered burns. Terrible frostbite.’

  ‘What was her name?’

  ‘The Córonat’s mistress,’ he said. ‘She called herself Sudana.’

  NINE

  ‘WELL, ANTAL, IT’S only taken eight years, but here we are at last.’

  Adra Dimal sat beside her captain and smiled contently at the vivid view. A pale, silver moon loomed and the ocean-filled portent of planet Earth gazed back. Great and gleaming land masses veiled by the cover of night. The bright sun burst from the edges of the sphere and for a moment a breathtaking eclipse formed. Justus found himself sorely reminded of the dark sphere of his nightmares, the dark sphere at the centre of—

  ‘Justus, you hear me?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Eight years and here we are!’

  ‘Hm-m-m, yep.’

  ‘And all this way without a single setback. Shit must only follow us back in Alignment space.’ Dimal winked at him, leaning into the speaker, transmitting to the four other crewmembers. ‘You might wanna’ come take a look at the view from up here,’ she said excitedly.

  Justus shivered, stared longingly at the moon now swelling wide, white, and dazzling to their right.

  ‘What you thinking about?’ Dimal asked him.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Put it another way: who you thinking about?’

  Anna.

  Peter.

  ‘No one.’

  It was six days since they’d arrived back within Accentaurib and ten in total since parting from the Stellarstream. With the exception of Enustine, they hadn’t stopped once. Now Justus had decided
to return to his old home it was as though he couldn’t get here fast enough.

  He’d forgotten in all his years away just how beautiful Earth was. Viewed as a fairly low-tech, almost primitive world by the other Systems – a belief further encouraged by the ostentatious leaders of the Systemal Alignment – he knew it was a blessing in disguise for the blue and green planet. If nobody realised how amazing and sacred it really was, then the chance of anyone fighting over it was strictly limited. Maybe Earth wasn’t important. But to Antal Justus it suddenly was.

  He caught Dimal’s glance and they kissed. By Jaishah she was a good kisser! In the nick of time, the cockpit door opened and they each pulled back. The literally-larger-than-life crewmate Shree Timbur bowled into the cockpit, followed by her brother, Raj. Aíron Veryan followed third. Medic Noah Nuveen entered last, laughing by himself. ‘And I said “two melons are enough!”’

  ‘I don’t get your jokes, Noah,’ Aíron said.

  Raj laughed. ‘That was a joke? And who said anything about melons anyway?’ He nudged Shree in the ribs playfully, pushed past Noah, and meandered over to Justus and Dimal. ‘How’s the captain today?’

  ‘Much better thanks,’ Justus said.

  ‘Actually, I was talking to Dimal.’

  ‘Very funny.’

  Dimal grinned. ‘What can I say? I ooze an allure some find overwhelming.’

  Noah sniggered. ‘You ooze something. Just not sure it’s allure.’

  ‘Watch it, underpants!’

  The ship’s medic folded his arms and stood to one side with Shree. Since Justus had returned, the two had seemed pretty close. It was nice. He felt like a captain most of all when his crew bonded.

  Engineer Raj guided red-headed Aíron to the front of the cockpit. Aíron beamed at Justus, and the six members of the Crimson Flux spent a silent moment of awe at the approaching sight.

  ‘Let me see your arm,’ Noah said eventually as he knelt down to inspect Justus’ left forearm. Wiping a sweaty hand over his balding brow, he removed the bandages and frowned, tucking back his chin so that his jowls rippled back. ‘How long ago did you say you received this knife wound?’

  Justus couldn’t help but picture Xerin Kramer plunging the knife in.

  ‘Captain?’

  He looked away. ‘Just before you lot found me.’

  ‘How long before?’

  ‘Dunno’. Hours, maybe less. Why?’

  ‘Because,’ he said, standing, ‘this wound is almost fully healed.’

  Dimal shot her captain a wide-eyed stare. She was the only one he’d told about the echo he’d received from Peter Marx before they’d lost him. No doubt it was the reason for his expedited healing.

  ‘And?’ he said, attempting to sound unconcerned.

  ‘Well, for a start it’s impossible after less than two weeks. Unless . . .’

  ‘Unless what?’ Raj asked. ‘Noah?’

  But the medic was no longer attending to his captain’s arm. His hand raised, shaking fingers fell away until he was pointing out of the casement at the shadow filling the entire cockpit. Aíron gasped and Noah collapsed in a heap on the floor. The rest maintained their watch of the vast, black, rounded outline groaning over them. In the direction of Earth. A hundred times larger than the Flux, it wasn’t awe-inspiring, it was bleeding terrifying.

  Justus reached across and disengaged the engine. Dimal caught on and prepared to change direction.

  ‘Earth Forces,’ she said. ‘Best to avoid them.’

  ‘Get to your stations,’ Justus said. Everyone moved. ‘And get Noah out of here!’

  Raj dragged the medic from the cockpit. ‘Such a brave soul!’ he said with a grin.

  The Flux turned sharply, thrusters bellowing harshly, moving towards Earth’s moon, Luna.

  ‘Have they seen us?’ Dimal asked.

  Justus checked his arched screen. ‘If they have they’ve not seen fit to pursue. We can head for the north port.’

  ‘Why the north? We’ll head for the south. It’s closer.’

  ‘Ahem. Captain.’

  Dimal folded her arms.

  ‘Trust me,’ he said. ‘If we’re going to Luna, I’m going to make the trip worthwhile.’

  ‘Something bad usually follows your worthwhile trips.’

  The moon loomed closer. Very soon it was possible to make out the grand, rectangular structures of the Lunar Athenaeum. Erected millennia ago, they were joined by clear glass halos which rose up into what would have been the atmosphere, never reaching a pinnacle. Instead they appeared to simply fade into the clear, empty space. They were powerful. Imposing. Ancient.

  Justus checked the crew on his screen. Noah stirred in the medical bay, watched over by the seven-foot Shree. Her purple outfit was comprised of a feathered bonnet, cargo pants, and vivid striped boots. They’d look no more ridiculous on a camel.

  Next screen. Raj was at his post within the auto-cannon, currently explaining its function to young Aíron. She seemed to be coping well without her parents. Justus was glad that she had Raj to help ease her in. All in all, he loved his crew, and he wouldn’t give them up for all the minerals on Mars.

  TEN

  LUNA’S NORTH PORT was fairly hectic when they arrived. Justus registered the Flux using stolen codes and docking permission was promptly granted. The visit would be a quick one. When he gave the order that everyone was to stay on board the ship, the crew almost mutinied. But they were too lazy to revolt. So he and Dimal headed out into one of the tall, glass rings, gazing at the partial view of Earth they were gifted.

  At the end of the clear ring they found the entrance to the enormous stone building. Weaving through the many dark-robed residents, they arrived within and Justus watched Dimal hold in her gasp. The room itself could have fit within it two of the largest interstellar vessels, at least, and the ceiling was held aloft by thick and intricately-carved pillars of white stone and gold leaf.

  ‘I’d always heard of the architecture of Luna,’ Dimal said. ‘But I hadn’t bloody imagined it could be anything like this!’ Her voice echoed among the many walls and she took to whispering like everybody else in the crater-like hollow. ‘By the skull of Samos!’ she exclaimed, pointing to the artwork spread across the ceiling.

  ‘Done by hand,’ he said. ‘All of it.’

  ‘No way!’

  He smiled, took her hand, and they carried on through the space to another ring of clear glass, and from there into another ancient structure.

  ‘Not that I mind your incessant need for detours and hang fires,’ Dimal whispered, ‘but I hope we’re here for a reason.’

  ‘Of course we are.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Trust me.’

  She reciprocated. ‘You know I do.’

  In any case, he planned on their being here for a reason.

  Leading her through the structure, a choir singing close by in deep chants which filled the cold expanse, he took her below the surface and down a stony set of winding steps. They emerged below in a long, low-ceilinged dungeon crammed with glass cabinets containing books and papers. Many more robed men and women glided quietly through computer stations, content in their duties.

  ‘This,’ Justus said, ‘is the Lunar Athenaeum.’

  ‘The Lunar-what-now?’

  ‘Athenaeum.’

  ‘What's an Anetheum?’

  ‘Ath-ee-nee-yam.’

  ‘Right. Whatever. Why are we here?’

  ‘To see my father.’

  ‘WHAT?!’

  The brushing, typing, and paper stacking ceased. Heads rotated to glimpse the source of disruption. Justus grinned and pulled Dimal to one side. She didn’t speak, her red lips pursed, her eyes screaming ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  A large woman, packed tightly into a dark blue and pleated robe, waddled over. With her head tilted she studied the two wanderers with zealous hostility. ‘How can I help you?’ she asked, her head still hanging to one side. ‘You must be lost.’

  Dimal tilted her head, mocking
ly. ‘No, actually.’ She bore her teeth and kneed her captain in the back of his leg.

  Justus stepped forward. ‘Hello, yes . . . erm . . . I’m looking for Lanfranc. Lanfranc Vortan?’

  ‘I’m afraid the Von Vortan isn’t within the Athenaeum at present,’ the plump woman replied. ‘Perhaps if you were to come back next week, I—’

  ‘Ah, yes. But . . . erm . . . it pains me to say we are only here for the day before our return to the Rivers. Maybe you could allow us a small tour of your wonderful library.’

  Dimal took his arm and linked it with hers. ‘It would mean ever so much. We’ve heard all about it. Linfran Vort—’

  ‘Lanfranc.’

  ‘Lanfranc Vortan is an old friend.’

  Justus nodded.

  The woman’s eyes dimmed.

  He held his breath.

  She turned. ‘This way, please.’

  Dimal winked at Justus and they followed her down the rows of computers and cabinets. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about your father?’ she said. ‘All this time. Is that him . . . the Von? Vortan?’

  Justus sighed. May as well tell her the truth. Everything else was going to come out sooner or later.

  ‘He’s my step-father. He raised me.’

  ‘Hell, you’re bad at telling me things!’

  ‘Vortan used to run the Athenaeum. Still does by the sound of things.’

  ‘And we’re here to see him?’

  ‘Kind of.’

  They followed the plump woman round a corner, along a narrow corridor, and through a set of glass double-doors. Inside her office they sat on one side of a varnished wooden desk; the woman plunged her heavy rear into a chair on the other side. She tilted her head once more, staring at one of the screens pointing up to the ceiling and built into the spotless surface of the desk.

  ‘Normally tours are impossible,’ she said without looking up. ‘We are simply too busy. But if you are friends of Von Vortan—’

  ‘The best of friends,’ Dimal added.

  The woman frowned. ‘If you are friends then I’m sure we can give you both a small glimpse of our work here.’

  Justus gripped Dimal’s knee beneath the table. ‘Thank you ever so much.’

  ‘Not at all, Mr . . .’

  Damn.

  Dimal shot him a nervous glance.

  ‘Nuveen,’ he said. ‘Noah Nuveen.’