Exodus, page 90
“Yes,” they chorused.
“A most magnanimous gesture, Majesty,” Lord Bekket said. “I’m sure she would enjoy that.”
Thyra looked at the big astrographic projection that hung above the compartment’s front bulkhead, showing an overview of the inner Kelowan system with the two orbital bands and their array of habitable planets. She studied it—especially Kelowan itself—with the nonchalant expression that Helena had cultivated to cover intense interest.
The Royal Fleet was already inside the first orbital band and heading in toward the star so they could curve around it and fly out to the Imperial Fleet rendezvous point. They’d soon be passing inside Boksrock’s orbit, the system’s innermost world. To examine it she put her hand on the couch’s bulb, and a detailed perception of the hot, airless world filled her consciousness. It was one and a half thousand kilometers in diameter, with strange rust-red mares stretching between its gentle mountain ranges. There were surprisingly few craters, its geology was bland, with a surface that was predominantly calcium-heavy igneous rock. There were no ore seams worth mining to be found anywhere; enough mineral surveys had been made over the millennia to prove this. A small, dense, worthless world, then.
Unless you can find a use for it, of course.
Thyra shifted her attention focus, but not by far. Dolod slipped into her mind, its presence kindling a thrill that elevated her heart rate. The iron exotic was approaching the point where it would cross over Boksrock’s orbit as it neared the star. Heat from the primary’s dazzling radiance was causing the leviathan to awaken. Its upper atmosphere had started to warm up, expanding the planet’s diameter by thousands of kilometers. Already the vast storm braids encircling the poles had accelerated under the thermal aggression until they were howling along at supersonic speed. Three hurricane spots had been sighted surging up from the equatorial depths, with more expected to manifest over the next few weeks. She couldn’t help but admire its peregrine beauty.
And there, almost insignificant in the vast glimmering panorama of the Poseidon Nebula, the tiny flame of the Diligent’s fusion engines burned defiantly as the arkship chased after the iron exotic. Its significance was so great she almost doubted the sensor feeds that were offering it up. But no: it is real. Until now, and despite her monumental success, some tiny part of her had always doubted her destiny. Not anymore.
Thyra removed her hand from the contact bulb. “Admiral.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She held her hand out, palm upward. The admiral placed her own hand on top.
“I have an additional assignment for the fleet,” Thyra told her. “One which needs to be handled discreetly.”
“Of course.”
“One of our archons’ specialist ships has been misappropriated by a hostile faction. Obviously this is a huge potential political embarrassment to Wynid. However, Lord Ualana-Shoigu believes he knows where it’s heading.”
* * *
—
Ellie spent the last hour with Finn, the pair of them checking over his armor suit. She didn’t say it, but the reason she was running diagnostics on every sub-component was so that she could find something wrong, some reason for him to scrub the mission. Except it’s not a mission anymore; it’s become an ultraist campaign. Unfortunately, the Lidon enterprises who’d supplied the bulk of the tech, and the High Rosa armory that’d built it, knew what they were doing. Everything was functioning impeccably. She took some comfort in remembering the suit had got him through the compound on Kajval and the factory in Kingsnest.
She helped him put it on as the Diligent’s drive reduced to two percent gee, ready for the drop ship’s departure. Just before he locked the helmet in place, she gave him a long, intense kiss. “Just come back, okay?”
“Hey, this is easier than all the others.”
“Please.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I’ll come back. Promise.”
“Okay, then.”
They left the suit-up cubicle and went into the main prep room. The observation window gave them a clear view into the Diligent’s hangar where the Celestial drop ship was waiting on its cradle. She regarded the conical craft with trepidation as Otylia and Zelinda gathered around their brother.
“Don’t worry,” Gyvoy said to Ellie. “I’ll take good care of him, and the Daves will take even better care.”
Somehow she couldn’t match his flashy smile. There was way too much bravado in his posturing. In fact, she came close to shying away from him thanks to some deep undefined instinct. “Sure,” she said numbly.
Bensath emerged from his suit-up cubicle. His armor suit had a lot of bulky racks and silos attached. Once they finally landed on the Archimedes Engine station, the suit’s muscles were going to have to do all the work moving him about. When she’d heard Gyvoy had assigned Bensath to accompany them, she’d almost objected. Why him? Why not me? But the whole idea of what they were about to do was something she found deeply disturbing.
Then the Daves appeared, their weapons strapped to their scintillating bodies. Ellie gave them a grin. “You look after him for me.”
“We got this.”
The hangar airlock opened, and Gyvoy led everyone through. Her last glimpse of Finn as he went into the connecting tube was him mouthing: It’ll be fine.
He was calm, at least, she thought, the Finn she wanted him to be.
“I’d tell you not to worry,” Otylia said, “but that would be patronizing. I think you know him better than me now.”
The two of them clung to a rail running along the side of the window, watching as the hangar’s clamshell doors swung apart.
“I’m not sure I do anymore,” Ellie said, her dread increasing. “There’s a level in him now that troubles me. I thought he’d quietened down, but this whole mission has taken over. It’s almost like…”
“He’s obsessed? He was always like that. Whenever he finds something he really cares about, he devotes himself to it—to the exclusion of all else.”
“I don’t think he should be doing this. He’s grieving pretty hard, and not thinking straight.”
“I wish I knew what to tell you. But I don’t recognize him anymore, he’s changed so much.”
“Don’t you mean you’ve changed? It’s been thirty years in your timeline.”
“Maybe. And maybe it’s my memory? I just want to remember my impetuous, enthusiastic, emotionally-all-over-the-place little brother. But what you two have accomplished—the things you’ve seen and done—no wonder he’s different.” She reached out and stroked a finger on Ellie’s cheek. “You are different, too, I can tell, and I can’t even share thoughts with you.”
“It’s been tough. And very frightening, too. But…some of the things I’ve seen. Kingsnest!”
“Damn, I’m jealous of that. I might have come with you if I hadn’t met—well, him.”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Laurella and Dushan make it all worthwhile.”
“How are the Celestials going to react?” Ellie blurted.
“I have absolutely no idea. You think flying between stars is venturing into the unknown? Not compared to this it isn’t.”
Ellie glanced back into the hangar as the cradle released the drop ship. Its ion thrusters flared violet, lifting it clear of the hangar, then they went dark. After it slid from view, the Diligent began accelerating again, taking them farther apart.
“He promised he’d come back,” Ellie said weakly.
“Then he will.”
* * *
—
Terence had been using the Aeacus sensors to keep watch on the trajectory of the Wynid Royal Fleet as it flew across the Kelowan system toward Dolod. The warships were on a trajectory that would see them curve around the star and progress out to a rendezvous with the Imperial Fleet—a vector that would bring them within eight million kilometers of the iron exotic just after it crossed inside Boksrock’s orbit.
The Diligent was also heading toward Dolod, but from a different angle. Up until two days ago, its flyby would have happened thirty hours before the fleet’s. Then the vector had changed, so that its closest approach would now be much farther away.
Not long after that, five ships from the fleet moved out from the main formation to form a distant halo and began using very sophisticated, high-energy scans.
“What are they looking for?” Medusa asked.
“I don’t know,” Terence said uneasily. He got the CI to run some simulations. If the Aeacus flew within half a million kilometers of the fleet, they would risk being detected by the new scans. So he altered their trajectory, taking them farther from the fleet and dropping behind the Diligent.
“They can’t know we’re here, can they?” Jimena asked.
“No. Not yet, anyway. But Asahi-Iryna received my last report, so the Wynid security services know all about fake Gyvoy being on the Diligent. They’ll also know the Aeacus has gone. It’s not much of a leap to think we might be interested in the Diligent. Which means they’ll be looking for us—and probably with ships similar to the Aeacus that we can’t see. There are always stealthed ships surrounding the fleet. We need to move farther away in case they detect us. I can send some remote sensor satellites on toward Dolod, so we can continue observing—just with a lot less risk to us.”
“We need to monitor the fleet’s course,” Medusa said. “The Crown Dominion archons will want to take this fake Gyvoy into custody just to find out what the hell is going on.”
Terence kept staring at the display. “Yes, but is the fleet here because the Diligent is, or the other way around? This makes no sense.” It didn’t help his growing frustration that even Makaio-Spirit had no idea what was happening.
“Should we warn the Diligent?” Vanilda asked.
“Sweetheart, there’s a hundred and thirty warships on almost the same course as Diligent, and closing. Trust me, they are aware of that, and of what will happen if they try anything stupid.”
“I suppose so.”
Terence reached out and put his palm on the contact bulb. The Aeacus didn’t even tremble as ten remote sensor satellites left their silos, accelerating away at five gees. “They’ll be a lot closer to Diligent than we’d ever get,” he said. “They’ll show us what’s going on.”
“I still don’t see why everyone is converging here,” Medusa said irritably.
Terence switched his attention to the tiny crescent of Dolod. “If they’re going to go into orbit around the iron exotic, they’ll start maneuvering soon.”
“Why would they go into orbit around Dolod?” Vanilda asked.
All Terence could do was shrug. “I don’t know. I suppose only fake Gyvoy knows the answer to that.”
“So what do we do now?” Jimena asked.
“What I always do. Gather information.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
As the Wynid Royal Fleet flew in toward Kelowan’s star to swing around it and rendezvous with the Imperial Fleet, they were also getting closer to Dolod. Thyra spent most of her time in the Dracaenae’s command compartment watching the extended search field that Admiral Serrilda-Kroja had established. The five warships that had flown out from the fleet’s formation to provide a sensor picket were only the first layer of the admiral’s deployment to find Terence’s stolen archon ship. Twenty stealthed Balzam-class ships were flying a lot farther out than that, trawling the tenuous solar wind for resonances created by ships with observation counter-measures. Extremely powerful CIs searched optical imagery for the distinct distortion patterns of photon lensing created by null-spectrum cloaks. Beyond the Balzams were more than two hundred small, automated sensor craft, while the outer layer, a hundred thousand kilometers from the Dracaenae, comprised three thousand passive-scan monitor satellites.
Between them, they’d detected two separate irregularities in the solar wind three million kilometers away. Two Balzams were repositioning to run a more definitive scan. Iuntin suspected one of them might be Olomo’s ship.
Admiral Serrilda-Kroja appeared at the side of Thyra’s chair. “Ma’am? Another ship has been detected.”
“Excellent.”
“Regrettably, not the one we were hoping for.”
Now Thyra was really interested. It was all she could do not to look at her father, who was keeping Iuntin company over at the command compartment’s fleet intelligence section, standing close to Oujanya’s station.
“How intriguing,” she said. “What class is it?”
The big astrographic projection in front of her changed, displaying the dreadnaught’s own optical feed. It showed a long, slender line of actinic light burning across the nebula’s pallid colors.
“Preliminary analysis suggests it’s nothing more than an old-style combat drop ship, possibly of Kajval origin.”
“A Kajval drop ship? What’s it doing here?”
“It is flying directly to Dolod at three gees, ma’am. If it maintains its current course, it will be there in another six hours.”
“Really?” Thyra sat up. “To whom does it belong?”
“Unknown, ma’am. It appeared a minute ago. It has no transponder—a violation of Crown Dominion flight regulations.”
“When you say ‘appeared’?”
“To our sensors. It was either shielding itself with a null-spectrum envelope, or it has been drifting for an unknown time. But there is a third option.”
“Yes?”
“Several Fleet Intelligence officers believe it came from the Diligent. Given the relative positioning, it could have separated eight hours ago and remained inert until now.”
Thyra carefully avoided looking over at Oujanya. “So the Diligent didn’t want us to know it’s their auxiliary ship? That’s very incriminating behavior. Does the Kajval drop ship carry weapons?”
“There are regrettably few records of the ship type, ma’am. Most such craft have a light missile and energy beam capability to strike ground defenses as it lands troops. Of course, its fusion drive was designed with an area-clearance ability in mind. They would hover twenty kilometers up and scour the land with superheated plasma exhaust, reducing anything unshielded to lava or vapor.”
“I don’t like that it has appeared without warning, nor do I like that it has appeared here. And I particularly don’t like that we know nothing about it.”
“Yes, ma’am. Shall I send one of our ships to intercept it?”
“Do the Fleet Intelligence officers have any idea what it’s doing? Dolod is a gas giant; it doesn’t have a solid surface to ‘drop’ onto.”
“The assumption is, the drop ship might land on an Archimedes Engine station, ma’am.”
“For what purpose? What could humans gain from that?”
“Unknown, ma’am.”
“Can it damage an Archimedes Engine station?”
“If it was carrying a powerful enough weapon, then that is a possibility.”
“So we don’t know what it’s doing, we don’t know if it’s carrying a weapon, and we think it might have come from the Diligent, but we’re not certain. Correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What does Fleet Intelligence advise?”
Admiral Serrilda-Kroja almost glanced over at her bridge officers, but just caught herself in time. “They are curious about the drop ship. But, ma’am, they are naturally agitated by unknowns. They always want more information.”
“Can we destroy it?”
“There are several long-range strike options.”
“Which presumably the drop ship is aware of?”
“Yes.”
Thyra beckoned Ualana-Shoigu over. “What do you think, Chief Archon?”
“I don’t understand what it’s doing; the admiral is correct in that the lack of information is regrettable. We had no prior knowledge of this ship being on the Diligent, but then, ma’am, I apologize for reminding you that Makaio-Faraji was the archon responsible for human affairs in the Kelowan system.”
“So what do you recommend?”
“I would defer to Fleet Intelligence. Gathering information is always useful. Given our relative positions, that will become progressively more difficult if we continue along this vector.”
“I am not dividing the Fleet because of the actions by a single human drop ship,” Thyra said sharply. “We have a schedule to join up with the Imperial Fleet that cannot and will not be compromised.”
Ualana-Shoigu turned to the admiral. “Options?”
“We are currently ahead of schedule for the rendezvous,” the admiral said. “If we were to reduce velocity for a short while to determine the drop ship’s intent, we would still be able to meet the rendezvous with only a small increase of acceleration.”
“Very well,” Thyra said. “Admiral, we will pause here and see what these humans are attempting. The fleet is to end acceleration. We’ll coast until we find out what’s going on. Target the drop ship and the Diligent with observation drones.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Thyra gave Ualana-Shoigu a sardonic glance. “As soon as the fleet receives orders to end powered flight, I expect we’ll receive a call from Twenty-Third Squadron. Please route it directly to me.”
“Of course.”
Thyra didn’t quite smile ninety-five seconds later when the message came in, but it was close. As soon as the dreadnaught’s acceleration cut off, she’d gathered the princesses to her, allowing them to float around her acceleration couch like a flock of curious fairies, their long hair adrift.
The commander of the Twenty-Third Squadron, Radwarno-Werkas, appeared on a bulkhead screen. She was in form-fitting emerald-green armor, with a helmet that had a small oval visor, retracted to expose her eyes and mouth. Even with so little flesh on show, Thyra was impressed by the amount of disapproval the commander was radiating.
