Ereshkigal’s War (Edge of the Splintered Galaxy Book 5), page 21
“It says here the Radiance Union was suspected of playing a role in their escape,” Penelope said.
“Radiance?” Maxwell shot them a confused glance. “Why?”
Penelope scrolled to the bottom of the page, then pointed at the report. “Because on the same day Ishihara and West escaped from prison, a Radiance intelligence operative, in UNE custody for impersonating an EDF officer, also disappeared and was supposedly seen with the pair in Rome. Radiance denied it. Then again, Radiance was responsible for what happened to the Hashmedai colonists out here and would probably deny that too.”
“So, two major players in the HLF, one of them being Ishihara, escaped from prison with help from Radiance Whisper agents, and at least one of them ended up out here in Omega Centauri,” LeBoeuf said.
Maxwell snorted. “Five credits says that the Whisper agent in UNE custody did it.”
“Then Ishihara ran into Jainuzei and joined Ereshkigal’s cult,” Penelope concluded.
LeBoeuf flashed back to their escape from the enemy ship, back to the sight of Tetsuya waving his hands to captivate her attention. “No.” LeBoeuf shook her head and studied his mugshot. “I think Ishihara was forced to join Ereshkigal’s army and was looking for a way out.”
“I’m gonna have to agree,” Miles said. “HLF were hardcore supporters for Hashmedai freedom on Earth and were anti-Radiance. Ereshkigal’s not offering the Hashmedai on that colony freedom. Ishihara should be fightin’ for those colonists, not aiding their conquerors.”
“Maraschino agrees as well,” Penelope said, eyeing a chat log on a third screen.
Maxwell gestured to the chat. “You chatting with them now?”
“This QEC is absolutely marvelous.” Penelope typed a quick message to her chat then hit the enter key. Members of the hacker group replied to her chat message. “Maraschino is very, very interested in Tetsuya and Destiny.”
“Destiny?” Maxwell asked.
“That was the code name for Rina West,” Penelope said. “I suppose you have nothing new to share?” She spun her chair around and looked up at the four.
Miles shook his head. “Not at the moment.”
“Ah, bugger.” Penelope spun back and typed on the keyboard. “Not every day we get to have live chats with Maraschino. Well, if you find anything, pass it along to me. Maraschino will remember your generosity.”
LeBoeuf narrowed her eyes at Penelope and her live chat screen, wondering what the hacker collective of data brokers were so interested in. Tetsuya might have been a wanted terrorist, but his escape from prison happened so long ago that LeBoeuf was convinced most people on the case had given up on it. If that were the case, most people wouldn’t buy new data about Tetsuya. Maraschino’s primary goal was to hack the galaxy for juicy intel then sell it to the highest bidder. Maraschino’s strange obsession with Tetsuya went against that MO.
It was almost as strange as Chevallier saying nothing since they brought up the data on Tetsuya.
The fierce French woman just stood with arms crossed, eyebrow twitching, and gaze studying Tetsuya’s mugshot. Chevallier and Tetsuya had history. An ex-boyfriend? It would have been possible. Like Tetsuya and Miles, Chevallier was born before the 2018 Hashmedai invasion of Earth. She might have crossed paths with Tetsuya before her deployment to Sirius in 2033—
And LeBoeuf wished she hadn’t been thinking so hard. Her head hurt again.
“Fuck’s sake,” LeBoeuf groaned, staggered backward, and popped another med. “Sorry, I’m going to rest.”
“LeBoeuf,” Tolukei called out to her from the psionic workstation. “Is your mind causing you pain?”
She faced him, nodding. “Yep, heard you and Nereid needed more meds too.”
“Indeed,” Tolukei said, arms behind his back. “However, Nereid and I have found that meditation has been helping us relieve the pain, thus lowering our reliance on the medication Dr. Kostelecky has provided us.”
“You should go with him, LeBoeuf,” Chevallier said, breaking her silence. “I need you in good shape if Kur gets the drop on us again.”
LeBoeuf took up Tolukei’s offer. After his shift had ended, she entered his quarters and did a double take. The Javnis man loved his books. Tolukei had a shelf full of old tomes. Some books were from Earth, others from Radiance and other far-off planets. An aromatic incense pot filled the room with a soothing scent, drawing her toward Tolukei and Nereid seated on mats on the floor, with the glow of dozens of lit candles spread around them in a circle. It looked like they were trying to summon a demon. The only thing missing were pentagrams on the floor and weird satanic chants.
The mat Nereid sat on was damp, like the jumpsuit she wore with its top unzipped. Her face, arms, and neck glistened in the candlelight while her blue and wet hair stuck to her shoulders. Nereid had used a bucket of water beside her to douse her skin now and then to keep it cool and prevent it from drying. Despite her looks, Nereid was a species from the ocean and needed to be in it. Like a beached whale or dolphin, she’d dry up and die after a while. LeBoeuf figured the Amphibians were the same because she had noticed Kostelecky gently splashing her recovering patient with water on her way out from sickbay.
Tolukei opened his four eyes and glared ahead. “Ah, welcome, LeBoeuf.”
Nereid opened her eyes and looked up. “Oh, are you joining us too?”
“My psionic brain is melting like you two, so I might as well,” LeBoeuf said. “How does this work?”
“Sit down first,” Tolukei said, offering an open mat for her.
LeBoeuf sat crossed-legged on the mat then shrugged.
“Relax your body and mind, and shut your eyes,” Tolukei continued. She did just that. “Worry not about your breathing. Let your body handle it naturally. Now empty your mind of all thoughts and let go of all psionic activity . . .”
He went on and on and explained the basics of psionic meditation. LeBoeuf couldn’t remember a damn word of it. The pain in her head was still thumping. Banging. And drowning out a voice, an angelic voice, an hour or four later. The voice sounded like Nereid was panicking and reaching out telepathically to LeBoeuf. Strange, considering she was right there beside LeBoeuf and Tolukei.
LeBoeuf heard every word echo in Nereid’s thoughts. She was definitely frightened about someone speaking to her with telepathy. And it wasn’t LeBoeuf, Maxwell, or Tolukei. Not that Maxwell was there meditating with the three.
LeBoeuf opened her eyes and looked at Nereid. Tolukei did so as well.
“What is wrong?” Tolukei asked Nereid.
Nereid took several deep breaths. LeBoeuf wasn’t sure if Nereid was sweating or if it was just residual water from the last time she splashed herself with the pail.
“I heard someone calling to me,” Nereid said.
“I heard a voice too, but it sounded like you,” LeBoeuf said.
“As did I,” Tolukei said. “Nereid was probably shocked, and so her thoughts came out as telepathic voices, which the two of us sensed.”
“The voice was not my own,” Nereid said. “So yes, you are right. That might have been my mind being so loud it touched yours.”
LeBoeuf leaned closer to Nereid. “What did the voice ask?”
Nereid faced the floor. “I do not know. I could not understand the words. It was a telepathic message meant for me. That was the best I could figure out.”
“Perhaps relay what you heard to Odelea?” LeBoeuf offered. “Maybe she can translate the words you heard.”
Nereid agreed with a subtle nod.
The three left Tolukei’s quarters and tracked down Odelea. She was in sickbay. LeBoeuf felt goosebumps tickle her flesh upon entering. Sickbay was a lot colder than she had remembered it. So cold that Tolukei gasped when the chilly air hit him. So cold that the Aryile girl they came seeking was wearing a coat while she chatted with the recovering Amphibian in its alien tongue. Though they weren’t doing much talking by the time Nereid, Tolukei, and LeBoeuf approached Odelea. The Amphibian had passed out, asleep perhaps.
“Odelea, sorry to interrupt your chat,” LeBoeuf said.
Odelea shifted around on the stool she sat on and faced the group. “Oh, no need to apologize. It would appear our guest is entering hibernation.”
“Why?” LeBoeuf asked.
“I am not sure. It might be because it is so very cold here,” Odelea said.
“Oh, did I muck up your work?” shouted a voice across sickbay, English accent. The four looked at Penelope seated on a medical bed, lifting one hand to wave at them while beaming a cheeky Hashmedai grin. “The doctor lowered the temperature for my examination. Hurt my hand with all the typing I’ve been doing today. We’ll be finished soon. Kostelecky just went to her office to fetch something.”
Nereid explained what she heard in her mind to Odelea, trying her best to mutter the strange words. Whatever Nereid heard, it was an unknown alien language that nobody understood. Even Odelea had to ask Nereid to repeat it.
“That was all I could remember,” Nereid said. “I was . . . frightened when it happened and at one point could not break from my meditation.”
“Can you translate it?” Tolukei asked Odelea.
“Unfortunately, no. I need to hear more of this language, assuming Nereid is repeating the words correctly to me. If I were the one receiving the message, I’d be able to translate it.”
“I heard your panicking voice telepathically, Nereid,” LeBoeuf said. “If this happens again, maybe repeat those words to Tolukei and me? With the three of us listening to your mind, we could better relay it to Odelea.”
Nereid trembled, held her arm, and timidly looked at the floor. “I don’t know . . .”
“What is this? The new chatting area?!” Kostelecky strode toward the group, walking past Penelope and her sore hand. The doctor gestured her hands in a move-away motion. “Shoo, shoo, and let my patient rest!”
“Perhaps we should forget about this,” Nereid said, pulling her gaze away from the floor.
“Perhaps it is for the best,” Odelea said and cupped her shivering, thin hands. She blew warm air into them. “If I stay here much longer, I might end up on the floor and in need of medical attention. I need to warm up.”
“As do I,” Tolukei grunted. “Let us talk about this later.”
Saved by the bell, LeBoeuf thought to herself. Nereid was keeping something from them, and LeBoeuf hoped it wasn’t some telepathic subliminal message Tiamat sent her from beyond the grave.
Especially now that they knew that somewhere on Kur was Tiamat’s consciousness, stored on an engram, just waiting for a new host body to take possession of it.
25 TETSUYA
Kur
Ereshkigal’s fleet, Tube Transit Through Interstellar Space
September 22, 2121, 21:42 SST (Sol Standard Time)
Apparently, Tetsuya had “joined” the team at the right time. Food and water were an on-again off-again issue for Kur and its loyal ships. However, after capturing the agricultural ships and a few others, there was plenty of grain and water to go around. And meat and livestock that were to go to the Hashmedai colonists. Guilt struck him. He was dining on food meant for those people who were now dead, dying, or starving while Ereshkigal’s soldiers on Apolnar hung food and water over the Hashmedais’ heads. Just pray to Ereshkigal, and you can live.
To minimize the guilt, Tetsuya opted to only eat and drink when he was starving or on the verge of dehydration. This way, he consumed less of the stolen goods.
He spent his off hours learning about Kur’s operations or partaking in target practice sessions with the various weapons they had in their weapon lock-up. Ereshkigal herself insisted on watching Tetsuya and Jainuzei shoot at the target practice dummies inside Kur’s shooting range. Or when they sparred with training swords. Ereshkigal applauded when they finished practicing for the day. Their training was nothing more than entertainment for her. So at least someone was happy.
Tetsuya hadn’t been to the Gilgamesh in a while. He couldn’t, not while Kur was in transit within the tube. He wasn’t sure why they called it a transit tube since Kur and its fleet weren’t moving at FTL speeds. Jainuzei later on explained that the tube was a phenomenon similar to a wormhole that bored interstellar conduits across the stars, a subway in space. Not to be confused with the Draconians’ maelstrom, which one could also describe as a subway in space. The tube was different and didn’t shift traveling ships into another plane of existence that existed outside the universe.
When the transit finished, Kur plunged out of what looked like a square-shaped portal in space. Dozens of Primate and Amphibian battleships followed behind Kur like loyal pets. The fleet idled in a region of space jam-packed with so many stars you could hardly see the blackness of space or the Milky Way. Ereshkigal’s fleet was deep within the globular star cluster of Omega Centauri. It didn’t look like Kur and its escort vessels were floating in space. It was like they were in the upper atmosphere of a planet where its skies and clouds were stars. Thank God for radiation shielding; they’d all be dying a terrible death right about now.
Jainuzei operated a console inside Kur’s command center, where Ereshkigal sat on her drifting throne, observing him and various other species at work. A large projection ahead displayed real-time footage taken outside of Kur. Six cruisers were moving ahead of the ancient ship. A second hologram showed live footage of another seven destroyers in a delta formation before Kur. And Kur? It just stayed put at the mouth of the transit tube.
“Confirmed,” grunted a Primate seated at one of the computer workstations. “The shipyard reports that they have met their quota and then some.”
“Excellent,” Ereshkigal said, grinning. “Ensure that our ships reward them for their devotion.”
“Another sixteen battleships join our cause,” Jainuzei said. “And within those are weapons and dedicated devotees. How long until the tube evaporates?”
An Amphibian to the left checked his computer console. “Four hours, fifty-seven minutes, judging by my scans.”
Jainuzei frowned and grunted. “That’s barely enough time . . .”
Ereshkigal shared his expression. “No, it is not.”
Tetsuya spun to the two. “Not enough time? For what?”
Ereshkigal just smiled at him. “Nothing you need to worry about.” She sat back on her floating throne and shut her eyes. “I shall be resting in my chamber. Do not disturb me until we are ready to depart.”
A burst of blue light brightened the command center. When it faded, Ereshkigal and her throne had dematerialized from sight. The Amphibians and Primates gasped when she flashed away. Psionic teleportation only reinforced the idea that Ereshkigal was divine to them, like she had magical powers.
Tetsuya stood with Jainuzei and watched the projection ahead. There were sixteen battleships on approach to Kur and under escort by the six cruisers that had departed from the fleet earlier. Whoever constructed the sixteen vessels armed them to the teeth with ion cannons, coil guns, and ports that were probably missile launchers, their hulls shining with a fresh coat of paint by the looks.
“So where are we?” Tetsuya asked Jainuzei.
“Approximately sixty light-years from our previous position.”
“Sixty light-years . . .” He put it together. “So we’re near the center of Omega Centauri?”
“We are still fifteen light-years or so away from the core, but, yes, fairly closer to it now than we were earlier.”
“Ereshkigal’s influence extends this far into it?” Tetsuya asked.
“Not quite,” Jainuzei said. “We construct various bases and shipyards in randomly selected systems, far from the heavily populated outer shell of Omega Centauri.”
“Why? Wouldn’t it make sense to have them closer?”
“So that our enemies could find and destroy them?” Jainuzei laughed. “Nobody has the power to penetrate this deep into Omega Centauri. The radiation alone makes it a deterrent. And so nobody knows that we have bases here that operate around the clock to research, design, and construct our ships or enhance our equipment. Or make repairs.” Jainuzei pointed at the crippled ships the Johannes Kepler damaged via a newly loaded hologram.
“I see.”
“Those who oppose us think we are operating out of the nearby systems,” Jainuzei said. “In reality, our shipyards are so far and spread out that it would take them centuries to find.”
“That kind of reminds me of the Hashmedai Empire’s exterior worlds,” Tetsuya said. “Random colonies spread out across the ass end of the galaxy.”
“Indeed, it was the exterior Imperial colonies that made it impossible for Radiance to exterminate their kind,” Jainuzei explained. “During the War Without End, we would embark on decades-long, sometimes centuries-long cryostasis voyages across the Milky Way to glass Hashmedai planets. It took us years just to reach one system and years more to find and attack the next. By that point, we had to return to the Union for repairs, resupply, and sometimes new recruits to replace those killed in combat.”
Tetsuya folded his arms. “You liked the idea and told Ereshkigal to do the same.”
Jainuzei smirked. “Perhaps now you understand why Ereshkigal offered me a second chance? I have been fighting in wars long before you humans learned how to harness the power of the atom. My experience with combat far surpasses anyone on this vessel . . . anyone in this fleet. And so I will pass my knowledge on to you. With that said, take this time to rest and reflect on what you have learned today.”
“Yes . . . Master.”
God, he really hated saying that.
Tetsuya departed Kur’s command center and ventured through the eerie corridors.
Then he stopped.
He remembered something critical. Ereshkigal was resting. A foolish idea came into his head, and he made a left-hand turn in the passageway rather than the right, seeking the corridor to Ereshkigal’s chamber.
He had less than five hours to act. Less than five hours to find Ereshkigal’s weakness.
