Master General (The Aternien Wars Book 6), page 21
Carina checked her comp-slate again, but the link to the comms buoy was still down. Growling a sigh under her breath, she turned her back to the window and tried to put the General’s mission to Old Aternus out of her mind. There was nothing she could do, and constantly fretting about it was a waste of her time and energy.
“Let’s check in on the work crew,” Carina said, heading toward Sparks, who stood closest to them, reviewing some data on a control station that the Aterniens had set up.
Up close the portal device looked even more like a mad science experiment gone wrong. The portal itself was an oval shaped frame, like a giant mirror without the glass, set on a dais. Thousands of wires sprouted from the platform and ballooned out around it, like jellyfish tentacles.
“Report, Mister Sparks,” Carina said. She’d taken to calling him Sparks all the time, since her Master Engineer preferred it to his actual name.
“Oh, hey, boss,” Sparks said, casually waving at Carina and Nadia. “A report, right… well…” The engineer puffed out his cheeks then scratched his ass, as if trying to delay giving them bad news.
“Just give it to me straight, will this contraption work or not?” Carina said.
“Well, it’s one of the dirtiest hatchet jobs I’ve ever done, but from an engineering standpoint, everything is screwed together correctly,” Sparks said.
“That’s not exactly an answer,” Carina replied, though the engineer appeared to be fully aware of this.
“To be honest, boss, Silus understands more about how this works that I do,” Sparks admitted. “I understand the flow of energy, and what each component does and needs to do, but how that all culminates in opening a portal through space and time…” He threw his arms out wide then slapped them to his thighs. “Well, that’s science stuff that Grey Matter has a better handle on.”
‘Grey Matter’ was Sparks’ pet name for Silus, and was a joke about the Master Operator’s titanic intellect. Carina looked at Silus, but he and Seshat were having an energetic discussion. She could pick up on the conversation without needing to get closer, but at least fifty percent of the words that the two scientists were using meant absolutely nothing to her.
“They may as well be speaking Aternien over there,” Carina said, finding the technobabble highly frustrating. “Just give it to me in simple terms.”
“That I can do, sort of,” Sparks replied, now scratching his head instead of his ass. “To be honest, this is more akin to magic than science. You see, Aternien Neuromorphic brains use quantum bits instead of neurons, which operate in a superposition of states. Getting that to work was Markus Aternus’ key breakthrough, because it unlocked the processing power necessary for synthetic consciousness.”
“Simple terms, Mister Sparks…” Carina reminded him.
“Right, right…” Sparks said, squeezing his eyes shut and thinking how to explain something so fantastically complex without falling back on the sort of technobabble Carina hated. “Well, you see the Neural Nexus taps into quantum field energy, which allows the quantum bits in the neuromorphic brain to become entangled. This gives the Aterniens a collective consciousness, allowing them to hear each other’s thoughts across lights years, as if every Aternien in the galaxy was in the same room,” the engineer continued, to blank expressions from Carina and Nadia. “That alone is incredible, but Nathan Clynes has developed a way to concentrate this energy and use it to manipulate a soliton warp field, like focusing light though a lens.”
“That makes sense,” Nadia said. She shrugged. “Well, the lens part did, anyway.”
“But there’s more…” Sparks went on. He was agitated now, excited by the technology and forgetting his audience. “The nexus might even give Nathan a level of extra sensory perception. A way to see multiple realities across space and time.”
Carina suddenly didn’t care how the technology worked, only whether they could stop it.
“So, you’re saying that Clynes might know what we’re planning?” Carina asked.
Sparks shrugged. “You’re asking if he can see the future?”
“You’re damned right I am,” Carina said. “If our enemy already knows our plans, then we’re royally screwed, no matter what we do.”
Sparks again thought for a moment. Despite claiming that he only understood the nuts and bolts of how the machine was screwed together, it seemed clear that her engineer understood the technobabble too.
“He might perceive the outcome of what happens here as one possible future, amongst hundreds, thousands or even millions of other outcomes,” Sparks said, after some deeper contemplation. “But there are so many possibilities, and every action we make at every moment in time alters that balance of probabilities.”
Carina nodded. What her engineer was trying to say was that the future wasn’t set in stone. Even so, an ability to perceive possible futures, even without knowing which would come true, was an advantage that their enemy could use. Carina suddenly caught a flash of light in her peripheral vision, and she turned back toward the viewing window, her eyes narrowed.
“What’s up, skipper?” Nadia said.
“I’m not sure…” Carina began walking toward the window, her gaze focused on a point in the distance, at the end of the long jump lane. “I felt something. A presence…”
Carina’s comp-slate chimed. It was Darius, aboard the Ascalon.
“Report,” Carina said, answering the call.
“Ma’am, a ship just warped in at the far end of the jump lane, but the plasma storm is kicking out so much interference, I can’t read its transponder signal,” Darius explained.
“What about its mass and configuration?” Carina asked. “Is it the right size and shape to be the Dauntless?”
Darius went quiet for a moment while he ran the scan.
“Negative, the configuration does not match the Dauntless,” Darius reported. “Based on these readings, if I was to take a guess, I’d say it was Aternien.”
Carina’s augments kicked into gear, switching her on like the opening the throttle of Carter’s V8 truck.
“Go to red alert and detach from the asteroid the moment Nadia and I are on-board,” Carina said. She was already running, and her Master Navigator was keeping pace at her side. “Stand ready on the plasma shield. If this is an Aternien infiltrator, we’ll need to tank any pot-shots it tries to make at the facility.”
Carina lowered her wrist then pumped her arms and put on a ferocious burst of speed. The upper docking pylon was reached via a flight of a hundred steps, and she catapulted herself off the bottom rung like a long jumper, then climbed the stairs five at a time. Nadia was a heartbeat behind, as was Carina’s gopher, and soon both officers and the bot had sped through the docking hatch.
Nadia closed and secured the airlock, while Carina continued toward the bridge. The ship detached and powered away from Vesta’s Veil, throwing her against the side of the wall, but she kept her balance and kept running, bursting onto the bridge of her ship like a grenade blast. Nadia entered a second later and joined NAFA at the navigation console.
“Any update on that ship?” Carina said, dropping into her chair. KACEY docked to her cubby and projected a holographic map of the local area, but it was fuzzy and indistinct, like an old VHF TV signal.
“Comms are still down, but it’s definitely Aternien,” Darius replied. “I can get a visual, but it’s scrappy.”
“On screen…”
The viewscreen flickered on, but it was like looking into a soupy fog of swirling green energy. In the middle of the image was a shape, but it was still too blurry to identify.
“Lyra, see if you clear that up,” Carina said.
Her Master Medic had assumed the operations station, in Silus’ absence. In a pinch, all of the crew could perform any other function on the ship.
“It should look a little better now,” Lyra replied.
Carina stood up. The ship was clearly Aternien, but it was a configuration she didn’t immediately recognize.
“Fly directly at them and get ready on the plasma shield,” Carina said. “Load the one-forties and target that ship’s weapons and engines. I want it in one piece so that we can find out how they hell they got here.”
A hundred questions were fizzing around her mind: how did Nathan Clynes know about Vesta’s Veil; how did the Aterniens get the jump sequence; what happened to the Dauntless and to Carter? All of them were pushed to the back of her mind, as her training kicked in and her augments worked to steady her nerves and focus her thoughts.
“Weapons locked and ready to fire,” Darius reported. “I can disable them no problem, but something isn’t quite right.”
“Out with it, mister,” Carina said. They only had seconds to act, before the Aternien warship could fire on Vesta’s Veil.
“Sensor readings are still all over the place, but so far as I can tell, they haven’t charged their particle cannon,” Darius said.
“Lyra, see if you can confirm that,” Carina said, before turning to KACEY.
Her gopher was also working the problem, but the scan image of the ship was still a hot mess of static and digital haze.
“What is that thing?” Carina said.
“It could be a new class of warship,” Darius speculated. “The Aterniens lost a lot of their Khopesh destroyers in the war, and even more crews. This is smaller, and wouldn’t need so many Immortals. It might even be crewed by Montu.”
“Confirmed, the Aternien ship has not powered weapons,” Lyra cut in. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It’s slowing,” Darius added. “We’re still headed straight at it, and the Aternien shows no indication of deviating course.”
Carina drummed her fingers against her thigh. It was an old habit but one that still helped her to think. “Try running lights,” she said. “If we can’t speak to them verbally, maybe they can respond in code.”
“Yes, ma’am, sending a standard hail now,” Lyra replied. The wait for the response was almost unbearable. “The Aternien is replying…” Lyra added. Then she laughed.
“What the hell is so funny?” Carina said.
“It’s the General,” Lyra replied, resting her elbows on the console and leaning forward. “He’s aboard the Aternien ship.”
“How do you know?” Carina asked.
“The Aternien ship responded with the General’s ident code,” Lyra replied. “I’ve checked and confirmed it. It’s him, alright.”
Carina scowled at the screen. The ship was close enough now that she could see it clearly, and finally recognize it. It was a D’Jah-class attack cruiser.
“Put us nose-to-nose with that ship so we get a signal through,” Carina said. She wasn’t taking any chances. “Aterniens are sneaky bastards. This could be a trick.”
“Moving into position now,” Nadia said, managing the delicate task of maneuvering a starship that was a third longer than a football field with the precision of a tattoo artist’s needle.
“Ma’am, at this range even a D’Jah class cruiser could one-shot us into oblivion,” Darius pointed out. “It would blow itself to pieces too, but we already know this new God-King doesn’t care about sacrificing lives.”
“Understood, Darius, and I agree,” Carina said. “If you register so much as a flicker of charge going into that ship’s particle cannons, I want you to pull back and reduce it to atoms.”
“We have a signal,” Lyra said. “I can put the Aternien Commander onto the main viewscreen.”
Carina nodded then stood tall with her hands pressed to the small of her back. She realized at once that she’d adopted the same imperious pose as General Rose, but the screen was already on, and she couldn’t change her stance now without it looking awkward. The image was fuzzy at first, but Lyra quickly cleaned up the resolution. Suddenly, the silver-bearded face of Master General Carter Rose appeared, standing alongside an implausibly beautiful Aternien woman in a fine white gown, wearing an ostrich feather in her hair.
“Commander,” General Rose grunted. He was mirroring Carina’s pose. Or am I mirroring his?... she thought, then shook her head to clear it. “It was good of you not to blow us out of the ether.”
“I’m nice like that,” Carina replied. “Now, do you mind explaining what the hell you’re doing sneaking up on Vesta’s Veil on-board an Aternien D’Jah-class attack cruiser?” Carter raised an eyebrow at her, and Carina added a perfunctory, “…sir.”
“Monique kindly offered to give me a lift,” Carter said, gesturing to the striking Aternien woman by his side.
“Monique?” Carina said. She looked closer then finally recognized the former Overseer of Aternus, through the fine clothes, jewelry and elaborate eye makeup.
“Hello, Carina, it is good to see you again,” Monique replied.
“Wow, I love the whole ‘sexy Egyptian queen’ thing you’ve got going on,” Carina said, and the General rolled his eyes. “I didn’t recognize you.”
“You two can get reacquainted later,” Carter grunted, being his usual surly self. “Right now, we have to accelerate our plans. We’ve seen the new God-King’s weapon in action, and we don’t have a moment to lose.”
TWENTY-ONE
THE RITUAL
Carter and Monique Dubois had been deposited on Vesta’s Veil by an Aternien shuttlecraft, piloted by the Queen’s Warden. Monique’s personal bodyguard had then been ordered back to her cruiser, despite the Warden’s courteous but strong objections. Monique had argued that there were already too many Aterniens packed into the asteroid, and that an additional, heavily armed squad of Immortals would create unnecessary tension. Besides, the General will be responsible for my safety… Monique had added. The Warden conceded without further objection, but Carter didn’t need a neural nexus to know that the Aternien was deeply unhappy with the arrangements. He couldn’t say that he was thrilled, either. If Monique was killed on his watch, it would probably start another war.
Carter turned away from the gallery window, and the hazy view of the D’Jah and the Dauntless, parked side-by-side in the soupy mess of plasma that shrouded the asteroid. Admiral Krantz had recently returned from her ship aboard a transport shuttle, along with a platoon of Union troopers. The soldiers were there as a precaution, and had kept well away from the High Overseers and the portal equipment that was now ready to be put into action. Carter figured that the presence of the troopers was why Monique had sent her bodyguard away. The hostility between the two factions, which were deadly enemies only a few years earlier, had been palpable. It was challenging enough to have the unarmed High Overseers and Union soldiers in the same, cramped space. A squad of elite Immortal warriors would have only made matters worse.
“We’re all set, here, Admiral,” Carter said, as Krantz approached him, keeping a wary eye on Monique Dubois, who was waiting beside him.
“I see that you have a new recruit,” Krantz said, nodding to Monique, who nodded back just as stiffly.
Monique had changed out of her elegant white gown and bejeweled finery and into her old golden scale armor that she’d worn as an Overseer of Aternus. This included a powerful war spear, a deadly weapon capable of punching holes through starship armor.
“She was insistent,” Carter said, reading between the lines. He could tell that Krantz was uncomfortable with having the leader of another planet take part in the dangerous mission. “Besides, she’s useful in a fight.”
“I read all of your reports during the second war, General, and I’m well aware of her capabilities,” Krantz replied, tartly. On this occasion, she was not going to be placated by the General’s easy charm. “Even so, taking her with you could have significant diplomatic repercussions.”
“Do not be concerned, Admiral,” Monique said, smiling in an effort to diffuse the tension. “No matter what happens to me, Old Aternus will not hold the Union responsible. My wish is for a lasting relationship with our human cousins.”
“I wish for that too, but I still feel that the danger is too great,” Kranz replied, speaking with her politician’s hat on. “The General has officers who are specifically trained to handle situations like this. There is no need to risk your safety.”
“As I explained to General Rose, this is as much an Aternien problem as it is one for the Union of Nine,” Monique replied. She was courteous but firm. “I thank you for your concern, but this is something I must do.”
Krantz sighed and shook her head, but she had no authority over the queen, and short of using force, there was no way to prevent her from carrying out her wishes. On this occasion, the indomitable Admiral had little choice but to concede.
“Very well, since you insist,” the Admiral said, displaying her frustrations openly.
“I do,” Monique answered, maintaining her regal poise.
Carter was suddenly aware that Silus Grey was looking in his direction and subtly trying to get his attention. The Master Operator, who was waiting beside the portal controls with Commander Larsen, did not look anxious so much as eager to proceed. Carter then became aware of another pair of eyes watching him. The Grand Vizier was standing beside the neural antenna, which was thrumming with energy from the three starship reactors that had been chained together to power the contraption.
“We’re all set over here,” Carina said, returning from her conversation with Silus, who was now with High Overseer Seshat to oversee the final preparations.
“Then execute the mission,” Krantz said. “And come back safely. That goes for all of you,” she added, looking directly at Monique as she said this.
Monique smiled again then Carina escorted the queen to the portal device. Carter was about to head off too when Krantz caught his wrist.
“General, a word,” the Admiral said, quietly.
Carter checked that Monique and Carina were still heading away then turned back, frowning.
“Yes, Admiral?”
“I hold you personally responsible for ensuring that Monique Dubois returns safely from this mission,” Krantz said, sternly. “I respect her choice to go, but the fallout should she become a casualty will be nuclear in its intensity.”
