The Splinter Alliance (Beyond the Impossible Book 2), page 12
“Yes, Colonel. We’ll make our assessments and move to a more agreeable location. Nothing new about the enemy?”
“It’s been quiet for seventeen minutes. We’re not sure what they’re waiting for. You’ll know when we do.”
The connection ended.
Kara was relieved to know Chi-Qua escaped onboard Horn, and four Talons plus an ex-Chancellor guarded the topside. But the truth escaped no one: They were flying blind down here. Unknown enemy with unknown strategy. She groaned as a sharp pain rifled up her side.
“Can this be any worse? It seemed like we were making so much progress. Cando, what he said about Exeter. Was Ryllen serious? I thought they loved each …”
“Doesn’t matter. Talons follow orders. X did not.”
“But I thought you were these tight-knit brothers and sisters who fought to the death for each other. He made a mistake.”
“The kind we don’t forgive. We fight for each other because we have the same objectives. If even one of us marches out of step, we stand to lose. If the Colonel gave X a pass, he’d lose face and his command.”
“Does it make a difference that I helped him along?”
“No. You’re not a Talon. X knew his obligation.”
“I should have stayed with you when the call came about a survivor. I meddled where I shouldn’t have. People died. I’m starting to see a trend, Cando.”
He knelt beside her and delivered the comforting tone of a brother.
“What? That you’re an angel of death? You’re too lovely for the role. The real ones are hiding out on the far side of Y-14.”
“Angel.” She reflected. “You said that word twice now. Is there Worship of the Divine on the other side?”
“Never heard it phrased like that. There’s God and the Circle of Hands. Ah, yes. I remember now. The Colonel said something long ago about there being no religion in this Collectorate. Wiped out by the Chancellors, yes?”
“During pre-history. It was forbidden on the colonies.”
“Just as well. The whole business never did my life much good. I think we hold onto the hope of God’s promise because there has to be a larger purpose to our endless slaughter.”
“What’s the promise?”
Cando scrunched his unibrow as he searched for the answer.
“I never paid close attention, but I think it involves a golden ticket and a rebirth on a new planet called Elysium. Peace and prosperity for all time. Yeah. That was the pitch.”
“If we don’t make it out of here alive, I hope there’s an Elysium.”
“Fair point. OK then. Time for me to make the best of our predicament.” He started away but turned back. “Oh, and Kara, I meant to tell you: Before the explosion, I inspected those model ships you asked after. It’s what we feared. The smaller craft have external arrays on both the port and starboard. The Inventor designed them for Worm travel.”
Another fear came to pass.
“Do you think it’s possible whoever attacked us can slip?”
“Assuming the ship came off assembly without missing parts. It also narrows down who this Inventor might be. I understand only the Aeternans are supposed to have wormhole tech.”
“As far as anyone knows.”
“So, either the Inventor is Aeternan or not from this universe.”
“Whoever he is, we won’t find him unless he wants us to.”
Cando sighed in assent.
“First up, we need to prepare. When Horn returns to the rescue, we’ll have to be fast on our feet. I’ll see to June. Rest here, Kara.”
Not a chance.
She’d done enough harm today. Sitting idle, sore all over, did nothing to help them move past this tragedy. She was in no position to counsel others and would likely find understandable resistance. Jai Zaan, who lost her twin brother, sat near his scattered remains in a helpless daze. June Serrano would tear into Kara for enabling Exeter’s insubordination. Talons Lin Sangoon and Meena Yoo closed ranks around June. They’d reserve no sympathy for Kara though they were Hokkis of another sort. The other surviving Hokkis – Myra Faun and Shoan Gui – stood silent in search of a purpose. She waved them over.
“Help me up.”
She extended a hand to each. Myra hesitated.
“Are you sure that’s smart? Did you know your hair was toasted?”
“I’m lucky to have any at all. Take my hand.”
The initial wobbliness suggested Myra was right. Kara stole a moment to shake off the dizzy spell and took two steps forward without falling on her face.
Progress. It would have to do.
“We need to be useful,” she told the teens. “I have a job for you.”
“Are we going to die down here?”
Shoan Gui, the youngest and slimmest of the volunteers, asked the question matter-of-factly, displaying none of the panic Po Wynn exposed earlier. His hair, a wild blend of red and violet so popular among the set who honored Rites of Ascension, distracted from soft, thoughtful features one might expect of a contemplative boy.
“I think we’ve had enough death for now, Shoan. Change the question. How do we leave here alive?”
“Sure. I can do that. What’s the job?”
“I don’t know who attacked us, but we can help the Admiral and everyone topside defend the station against them.”
“Are you suggesting we go fight on the front line?”
“I hope it never comes to that, Shoan. Can you pilot a rifter?”
He allowed a half-smile. “I did two solo drive-byes. Aced my targets.” He grabbed his laser pistol and pretended to fire with the weapon turned on its side. “Pop, pop. Never saw me coming.”
Shoan described his assassinations like he was playing a game. Kara needed the occasional reminder: She was surrounded by Cando’s so-called angels of death.
“Yes would have been enough.”
Myra, a few years older than Shoan but likely not an upper school graduate, asked, “Where are we going?”
“You’re going to talk to Jai. She’s your age, and I recall hearing something about your own family losses? A sister and a cousin. Yes? She needs someone to push her through because we’re going to need her down the road. Will you do it?”
“I’m not good with death, but I can try.”
“You’ll do fine. Much better than any Talons. For them, grief is another word for rage and revenge. Jai needs a softer touch.”
“I’ll put on a good show, but she and Joa were two sides of the same Dim. It’s like she’s been cut in half.”
“I understand. I lost a brother, too. Try your best. Go slow. And as for you,” she told Shoan, “Go to your team’s rifter and make sure you’re comfortable with the nav. I’ll be with you soon.”
With a creak in each step, she worked her way through a field of debris. She passed June, whose glare was no doubt fueled by the pain of injury and strong desire for justice. Kara waited for Cando to break from discussion with Lin Sangoon. He threw up his hands upon seeing her walking.
“What did I say about rest, Kara?”
“I need to return to the Inventor’s workstation.” She pointed toward the distant, elevated platform. “Those designs and models may be critical depending upon what happens next. I’m here because I’m an engineer. Shoan Gui will take me.”
“We need both rifters to evacuate everyone quickly.”
“You’ll have them. I’ll be dropped off at the platform.”
“You’ll be alone up there.”
“No. I’m taking Exeter, too. Shoan can collect another rifter back at the lift, and Exeter will pilot me to the platform.”
She placed a hand over his mouth as he objected.
“I know he’s under your command; I won’t give him a chance to step out of line. But he’s no use here. Your people would rather kill him … over and over, I’m afraid … than work with him. You know it’s true. There’s nothing to be done for Lucas, but I need help.”
His hesitation told Kara she won the moment.
“I have known you for twelve hours, Kara Syung, each one more intriguing than the last.” He glanced past her until he saw Exeter, alone and miserable a hundred meters away. “I’ll make it clear to him: Follow your lead, give you whatever you need. Any less, I’ll strip him.”
Exeter followed the new order without objection. When they arrived at the high platform and he docked the rifter, Exeter joined Kara at the workstation, where she threw open the holowindows of the Inventor’s designs. He said nothing. The tension became too thick for Kara.
She sighed and chose to get it over with.
“I have to know, Exeter: Why save me?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a simple question. You had about two seconds to tap your helmet and jump. But you made a point to shield me. If you were a mortal man, you’d be dead.”
“I’m used to dying. You aren’t.”
“But you’ve killed so many people. You were on stage at my wedding. How many Syungs and Tarons did you execute? They weren’t used to dying, either.”
“I’m sorry about that. I am. But Talons obey …”
“Yes. They obey orders. I heard. Exeter, if I thought what you did for me was selfless, I might feel like I owe you a debt. But I think the more likely answer is that I just happened to be in your way. A million to one. So, we’re going to work now and try to salvage something out of this mission. You were right about one thing: I’m not used to dying. This place is not going to be my tomb.”
She found a design for a ship likely capable of long-distance warfare and went to work.
18
H AM ANTICIPATED THE ENEMY would arrive one of three ways: A system ship coming into distant view, allowing time to analyze and prepare defense; a Worm-capable ship materializing from an aperture, seconds from firing; a fleet of small, mobile attack transports hanging low against the horizon, hidden from the periphery skimmers. Yet the space above and the land approaching Artemis Station remained quiet. The attack began when a man cleared his throat.
Ham, his four Talons, and lone Hokki in C&C stared at each other in disbelief as a forced series of coughs blasted from the station’s public address system.
“Good morning, Artemis. I have questions. What does it mean to raise children? Should a father ask his sons what they want or tell them what they need?” The melancholy voice dragged as if from a lazy, bumbling drunk. “I despise asking these questions of strangers … it’s regret, you see. Old men and their foolish need to do it all over again. The consequence of being branded mortal when the best days are far in the distant sun …”
The man emphasized the wrong syllables and opened dramatic gaps between words, which Ham thought to be a silly affectation. The more immediate question: How was he doing this? He was coming through clearly, as if broadcasting from the next room. Paul Ochoba checked the internal comms and found no source.
Force Carmel listened outside.
“It’s everywhere, Admiral.”
“Yes,” Ham said. “Of course, it is. A brilliant stroke.”
The man continued to ramble:
“For how long must a man countenance the extent of legacy? It’s oh … I think … you see … I circle back to this question daily, although I have recently begun to consider a corollary. For how soon must a man disregard his legacy? It’s generational, you see. Yes?
“Think about the birth. What is the immediate consequence? Are you not assigned a legacy by virtue of the surname and the faults, beatitudes, and conquests of your genetic line? Is this a fair price for the newborn? It is … I think … you see … a type of prison. Though we assign them names, this is merely a point of differentiation. Yet there is … to a point, I see … no differentiation at all. Only the descendancy and its prison of a family’s hard-fought legacy.”
Ryllen said what they were all thinking:
“What is this asshole going on about? Can’t we shut him up?”
Ham turned to Paul, but he knew the answer.
Paul sighed. “We’re locked out of that system.”
“We’ve been using our comm stacks and the plate network.” Ham admired the deception. “The speaker system likely hasn’t been operated since the refinery days.”
“Can he hear us?” Ryllen said.
“If he can, then he has all the intel he needs.” He shouted: “We’re here for the taking! A name would be nice.”
While they spoke, the disembodied voice continued.
“I was a man of far-flung interests, which by their nature, kept me from my sons for lengthy episodes of their childhood. The absences were not a product of neglect or an abrogation of my duties. It was … I think … you see … an attempt to enhance our legacy. They followed the natural expectation to pursue a tiered course toward the Unification Guard. Though, it must be said, I had long since retired from the Admiralty. Our reunions were infrequent, but as is the nature of the dutiful son, each was deferential to my wishes and concerns. We never spoke of life beyond the Guard. At the time, I thought it a most appropriate shelter from the disillusionment certain to intrude on their lives. More soldiers were going native and disappearing among the indigos. It was … I think … you see … a miscalculation.
“My oldest was a Major. He reported to the Admiral of the Brahman Noose. He prepared to start a family of his own. I never met her, as how these things go. We never discussed terrorism, of course. What hope did the locals have against our might? And then, not minutes after he sent me an invitation to meet this poor woman, did the terrorists destroy the Brahman Noose. Oh … yes. It was sudden. I hear without pain. So they said. But can we ever be sure? What happens when you are consumed by a singularity?
“My other sons did not take it well. They felt shamed by the retreat to Earth. I revived their genetic pride with my hardiest motivational speech, which well suited their affairs until the civil war. By every account, they fought with immeasurable courage. Their final posting was the battle cruiser Horatio. Led by an insufferable and, dare I say, incompetent Captain. He thought to attack the Warner Alliance with a battery of slews against their forward wall. He made the same elemental mistake which led to every Chancellor defeat. It was … I think … you see … he did not look behind.
“Arrogance. Always arrogance. My boys were sixteen and eighteen when their bodies were twisted inside out by Warner’s secret weapon. I asked about recovering their remains … oh, it was a miserable affair. Identification was … well, as you might imagine, three thousand mutilated bodies … some were intertwined. Some were cremated in the atmosphere. And others? Inertia carried them beyond the gravity well. After a time, no one much cared.
“Which begs the initial question: What does it mean to raise children? Do I bear the burden to direct their path, in which case I take ownership for their victories and defeats? Or, do I grant them an independent spirit which, though it might be a disappointment to my own sensibilities, could be in fact their salvation? It is … I think … you see … a query offered far too late in life.”
For a few seconds, the silence brought an unsettling tension to C&C. Ham listened to every word, tried to connect every dot, and identify this man without a face, for he wasn’t sure he’d be given one to see.
“However,” the man resumed, “these questions fuel my resolve and make the new day livable. My sons met inglorious ends, but I wish to do better by a different brand of children, you see, whose only wish is to find a place far from the ruins of their past.
“We were given assurances and shown wonders. And once more, we failed to look behind. So, we come today for answers, for justice, and I think … you see … we come from behind. Look up.”
Ham instructed Paul to toss the local orbital relays onto the light table. Three huge holowindows displayed an empty starfield.
“He sounds insane,” Leto said.
“Worse. He’s a Chancellor with a vendetta. He …”
A brilliant burst in orbit followed the opening of a wormhole aperture. A ship emerged.
“He likes an entrance,” Ham said. “Typical. Paul, zoom in on that beast from the closest relay. If I’m right, he’s going to allow us a moment to assess the gravity of our predicament.”
Indeed, they heard nothing more while analyzing the massive ship hovering two hundred kilometers above them.
The ship was long and sleek like a deep-space science explorer yet led with an aggressive bow resembling the head of a crocodile. The center third narrowed to a cylindrical channel. The stern widened and deepened. Rather than the traditional engine array, huge Carbedyne panels lined the hexagonal body at the rear and glowed soft green. The rear offered no features, but Ham expected a landing bay door to open before long.
“Have you seen anything like it before?” Ryllen said.
“No. I think this is one of the Inventor’s concoctions. This appears to be new off the line. I see no name or other identifiers on the hull. See how the armor is a dull sheen? I don’t believe it’s been sealed.”
“Which means what?”
“It lacks the protective skin necessary for the anomalies of space travel. Either they stole it before it was finished, or the armor needs no additional attributes.”
Force Carmel’s grunt signaled his lack of respect.
“I see no weapons ports. The design is flawed. It lacks system engines. The central connector is the obvious target.”
“Which is why,” Ham said, “it’s the most dangerous. Zoom closer, Paul. There! See them? A series of panels wrapping around the connector. I believe they’re rotating, albeit slowly.”
“What’s their purpose?”
“I fear we’re going to find out soon.”
“If Horn returns,” Ryllen said, “I hope they keep their distance.”
“That should be time enough,” the voice of their enemy said. “Your initial assessment suggests an attack amidships will destroy us. It is … I think … you see … the obvious weakness. Look again.”
The panels along the connector retracted to reveal a long sequence of reflective bands rotating like a corkscrew. Ham blew up a window for a closer zoom, which confirmed his suspicion. He’d seen this before. He studied C&C. The Talons nodded with equal recognition and more than a little apprehension.
