Exodus, page 92
Sure. In a couple of centuries’ time. But people are dying now. Their world—my world—is being ripped apart. While I, at this moment, have all this power. Power beyond even the Imperial Celestials and their Asteria-damned queens. Power that can hurt them.
He thought he heard sobbing somewhere in the distance. Perhaps inside his helmet.
Mother? Is that you?
She was there, in his thoughts. A perfect image from early childhood, one of the few times she could afford to smile and hug him. After that, she led a life utterly devoted to serving the people of Gondiar, whether they appreciated it or not. Decade after unrelenting decade of duty, just like all the Jalgori-Tobus before.
And for that, they killed her.
“Fuck you!” he screamed.
Finn studied the Engine’s strength anew. Through cold fury, he saw the way he could employ the epic momentum transfer to bring about the change he wanted. The changes to a different orbit, the method of application. All of it resolved into simple instructions by the Engine’s sublime routines.
We are liberation, he told the Engine he communed with. The fulcrum and the lever.
The routines acknowledged his plan, and his omniscient perception of the star system evolved into prediction. Finn observed his work and decided it was good.
Begin.
He saw the effect ripple out from this station to all the other massive components of the Archimedes Engine lurking among Dolod’s clouds. Ancient mechanisms began to stir. Systems realigned their structures in accordance with the new parameters he’d convened. The anchor craft in each station started to power up.
Finn opened his eyes and looked around the compartment. “Gyvoy?” He didn’t quite know what words he was going to use to tell his friend what he’d just done. “I made some changes. I think you’ll like—” He stopped. The suit sensors couldn’t find Gyvoy anywhere in the circular compartment; even his lnc was missing from the comms display.
“Gyvoy not here,” a Dave told him.
“Him and Bensath cleared off,” the other Dave said.
“What?” Finn finally read the suit’s time display. He’d been connected to the Engine for nearly four hours.
“They took drop ship.”
“We stranded.”
* * *
—
“That’s the signal,” Liliana said gleefully.
From his acceleration couch on the other side of the bridge, Toše roused himself. They’d waited so long he’d almost fallen asleep. The Arcadia’s Moon had been orbiting Dolod for three days before the little Celestial drop ship had arrived and flown down to one of the Archimedes Engine stations. The ship’s fusion rockets made it easy for their passive sensors to track it. Liliana had refused to let Captain Andino use the Traveler starship’s active sensors. The Arcadia’s Moon had wrapped itself in an envelope of null-spectrum sheets as it left the Infinite Totality shell. As a result, nobody knew they were here. They would have arrived even earlier if they hadn’t been hauling five thousand tons of equipment and balance mass.
Toše studied the screen, which showed the drop ship was in flight again, deep in the iron exotic’s atmosphere; a dazzling pinpoint of light that was rising up from the station at a shallow angle.
“Are they going to make orbit on that trajectory?” a curious Josias asked from behind Toše.
“No,” Captain Andino said. “That’s a sub-orbital ballistic hop. Looks like they’re heading for another station.”
“They are,” Liliana said.
“Why is that, then?” Josias asked. “What makes one station different from all the others?”
Toše felt his jaw tightening; Josias had that effect on him now. Weeks of being locked in a ship with someone who never stopped talking—mostly about himself—did that to a man. He was fairly sure Andino’s neck biomech activators made a squeak as the captain hunched her shoulders, which she did every time Josias opened his mouth. The leader of the human rebellion pronounces on truth to power. Again. Asteria, we’ve created a monster.
“Gyvoy is acquiring another weapon for the resistance,” Liliana said in a neutral voice. “Dolod provides us with more than one opportunity to strike back at our oppressors.”
“Nice to hear that. We need as many options as we can get. Politically, the more fronts you can open up, the more your opponent is playing catch-up.”
Josias didn’t add anything, so Toše started to relax again. The drop ship traversed the top of its arc and headed down again.
“You sure Finn can pull this off?”
Toše rolled his eyes, hearing a soft metal squeak from the captain’s direction.
“I mean, he’s a nice lad,” Josias continued. “And I say that without prejudice, given he’s my brother-in-law. But this is the mother of all heists. I mean, crap, stealing a whole planet! Gotta admire you guys for thinking that one up.”
“I have every confidence in Finn,” Liliana said.
“Okay.” Josias started to examine the artificial neural induction web on his own palm. “You’ll have to get a uranic to teach me how to do this one day. My wife never showed me how, which is one more issue to mention to the divorce lawyer. If the only way you can control Celestial systems like the Archimedes Engine is through neural induction, the movement would’ve been screwed without Finn. We were lucky to have him on our side. But it’s always good to have a backup, right?”
“Sure thing.”
Toše gave her the look—the one he’d been giving her several times a day ever since they arrived on board. The one that pleaded: Just let me…
Liliana ignored him. “Captain, I’d like you to deploy the skyhook mechanism now, please.”
“On it,” Andino said.
“How come that drop ship can’t lift your other weapon up to orbit?” Josias asked. “I thought they salvaged it because it’s one of the few craft capable of accelerating up to orbital velocity out of Dolod’s gravity.”
“It’s doubtful the drop ship could lift what we want,” Liliana said. “And the entire Wynid Royal Fleet would be able to see it flying back up. Whereas a skyhook will be able to bring our item on board with a minimal chance of being detected—especially with everything else that’s going on.”
“Ah, I get it. That’s lucky.”
Liliana gave him a sore look. “Luck has nothing to do with this. Everything we do has been meticulously planned.”
“Well, yes.” Josias gave her a very insincere smile. “But it was unlucky that the Wynid Royal Fleet showed up just at the same time as us, wasn’t it? I mean, wow oh wow, there is no way you could ever plan for that. There are just no odds for it.”
“Yes. You’re right, Josias; that was unlucky.”
Toše was watching the sensor feed, doing his best to tune out Josias, when it started. He experienced a chill shiver of elation triggered by the image on the screen. “Look,” he said in admiration. “Finn did it. The anchor ships are launching.”
—
Message origin Clavissa: The anchor ships are launching. It’s too early for a Dolod momentum transfer maneuver, either into orbit or slingshotting round the star.
Message origin Neusch: Sweet Asteria, how are humans doing that?
Message origin Clavissa: Nobody knows. And we don’t know why they’ve done it, either. I can see how worried everyone is.
* * *
—
Ellie simply couldn’t stand the tension anymore. She’d been in the Diligent’s command and control center as the arkship accelerated away from the drop ship, waiting for its fusion rockets to ignite. Otylia, Zelinda, and Everett had been with her, anxious about their brother. That was difficult for her; she still remembered Otylia from her brief time on Gondiar, back when everything was so wonderfully normal in Santa Rosa. Seeing someone age thirty years while she hadn’t was so strange, although there were still flashes of the Otylia she’d known breaking through her grief and maturity. While Zelinda seemed almost unchanged, except that her appearance now matched her personality. It was Everett she could never quite understand. She’d only met him once before, and it hadn’t gone well. It was hard to believe he was from the same family as his siblings.
All of which added stress to the wait. Then Finn had finally activated the drop ship’s rockets, and they tracked it as it flew to Dolod. Everyone’s attention switched between it and the Wynid Royal Fleet, to see how they’d react. It was the most incredible bad luck that the queen was here at the same time. Some feared Helena-Thyra would send warships after Finn, and more to the Diligent. But instead the fleet simply stopped accelerating. It meant they were curious about what was happening, but not in a lethal way. Not yet.
The drop ship decelerated into orbit, then down into the atmosphere. That was when Ellie knew she had to go back to the owner’s quarters to get some proper rest. It would be hours before they’d know if Finn had successfully taken control of the Archimedes Engine.
She took the elevator down from the command and control center and came out in the tiny vestibule five decks below. Pablo was standing by the entrance, looking anxious.
“Ellie, are you’s okay?” he asked in his mournful voice.
“Yeah, thanks, I’m good. They made it to the station.”
“Good, but you’s. How’s you?”
“Like I said, I’m okay. I’m just going to rest up a bit until they launch and fly back here.” She hoped he’d take the hint. Fatigue was really biting now. The wound across the top of her hip she’d got fighting Ghosts back in the Kingsnest factory was still painful, and she didn’t like dosing up on painkillers, as they made her woozy. She knew not taking anything was stupid, but stoically endured to keep her senses sharp. Except all she wanted to do now was get to the bedroom before she collapsed. She was running on empty.
“He didn’t hurt you’s, did he?” Pablo asked.
“What?”
“Gyvoy. I heard you’s yell. I’s worried. I didn’t wants to go in. I knows I shouldn’t.”
Ellie gave her head a gentle shake. “I’m sorry, what?”
“The other day. I’s doing maintenance on the water feed to the top three floors. The pipes were blocked; it’s the sludge buildup, see. There’s still too much algae coming out of the hydro drain. And well, we’s hoping to flush it, but after we puts new filters in. And that’s what I’s be doing out here. We’s got us a new batch of filters.”
Ellie was sort of listening, but the rush of words wasn’t making much sense. He was pointing to the pipes that covered one of the vestibule’s walls. The plants that grew across the outside of the structure needed a lot of water. Some argued the amount of greenery was too much and used up too many resources. It was an argument that had been going on for as long as she could remember.
She looked at the pipes and bigger spheres that contained the outlet filters, annoyed that she didn’t remember Pablo working there. Although maybe she did. “Pablo, I’m sorry. What is this?”
“The other day. You’s coming back to the owner’s quarters. I’s here outside fixing the pipe filters.”
“Uh, yes, I remember.” Which she did, almost. Exhaustion was plaguing her memory. She wanted to walk away, but basic politeness kept her standing there listening to this nonsense.
“Finn and Gyvoy had gone in just before you’s. I said hello, and you asked what I’s doing, and I’s said the filters are—”
“Pablo, I’m really tired right now. What are you telling me?”
His big face became contrite. “I’s sorry. But when you went in, I heard you’s yell. It sounded like you was hurting, ’s all. I’s just seeing if you’s okay.”
“Um, yes, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
“That’s good.” He managed a flinch of a grin.
Inside the owner’s quarters, she kicked off her shoes, but couldn’t be bothered to undress, so just collapsed on the bed. By herself. She and Finn had shared a bed almost since the first day they arrived in Santa Rosa, even after they’d had those awful fights. Not having him beside her now hurt.
He’ll be back, she told herself. He can control Celestial machinery, for heaven’s sake. Her eyes closed, and her body went limp.
Five minutes later she still wasn’t asleep; her thoughts were too active. Why the hell can’t I remember Pablo working on the filters? She knew damn well he wasn’t making it up. For a start, the Gath didn’t have that kind of imagination; they were a practical, literal people. They had good memories, too, so once they’d been shown how to do something they’d never forget. And they certainly didn’t lie.
The other issue was that she’d cried out, as if she’d been hurt. Her fingers stroked lightly over the growskin strip covering her wound. Did I knock into something? But she had no memory of that. Nor did she recall Gyvoy being in the owner’s quarters.
What is wrong with me?
She turned onto her side and closed her eyes tighter. A decent rest might kickstart her brain.
Another ten minutes passed.
Why would Pablo lie? He wouldn’t, of course, even if he’d been told to. She remembered the first time she’d seen him, lying on a hospital bed, beaten so badly because he wouldn’t fight like he’d been told.
He’s not lying. What he said happened…happened.
It wasn’t just being unable to recall what’d occurred that bothered her. There was something else, some faint yet persistent instinct, an unease that lingered like a malignant spirit. Something about this is wrong.
She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t worrying about her memory that was keeping her awake now. It was the decision she wrestled with.
Five more minutes.
“Crap!” she announced viciously.
She took the elevator down to the third level where the clinic was. Finn had agreed to get rid of the wretched rekaul, but it did have a genuine medical use helping with certain types of psychiatric issues—literally putting people back in their happy place—so they’d handed the flask over to the Diligent’s medical staff.
The clinic was empty. Ellie paused, still fighting her indecision, then abruptly slapped her hand on the pharmacy’s biometric scanner. There were certain codes and protocols that, as an Aponi, gave her network privileges even officers didn’t have. Like opening restricted locks…
Just like Jalgori-Tobus have advantages over ordinary humans. She grimaced at the notion.
The restricted medicine safe opened, and she took the flask out, its little green light gleaming on top. She just knew her face would be flushed with guilt the whole elevator rise back up to the owner’s quarters. Thankfully Pablo wasn’t in the vestibule.
After she’d caught Finn using, she’d accessed a load of files on rekaul—all of which were pretty nauseating. But it did mean she knew how to apply it properly. In theory.
She measured out the smallest dose possible—one that would immerse her in the Browntime for no more than fifteen minutes. This’ll put everything to rest, then I’ll be able to get some sleep.
So…you inhale the spray and think about the start of the time you want to remember. Don’t think of anything else—especially something unpleasant. Trouble was, she didn’t remember the start of whatever this was. But she definitely remembered the last night before the drop ship flew away. She’d been at the gym for some soft physiotherapy, stretching the abs. The wound had ached when she’d finished, but she’d convinced herself it was a good ache. Then she left the gym and headed back to the owner’s quarters. Took the elevator up. And when it opened, there was Pablo in his work overalls. He’d got two of the hydroponic filter canisters open, and his hands were covered with black gunk that smelled disturbingly similar to sewage.
“Hi, Pablo, what are you doing?” she asked.
“Uh, hello, Ellie; I’s changing the filters for you. The mech team’s extruding us a new design now. Should stop all the sludge buildup. Not sure it will, mind, but can’t make’s it any worse, now can it?”
She grinned at him. “No. But the job the Gath have done on the old hydroponics system has been amazing!”
“Still got several life support systems to rebuild. It’ll be years till it’s all done.”
“And when you finish that, there’ll be something else to improve. That’s the Diligent for you. Have a good night, Pablo.”
“You too’s, Ellie.”
She opened the door to the owner’s quarters and walked in. “Finn, did you get anything to eat, I’m going—” Shock locked up every muscle. Finn was sitting on the living room couch, his back rigid, staring blankly ahead. Both his hands were held out ahead of him, palms up.
Gyvoy was standing in front of him, one hand still pressed on Finn’s, their palms touching. His other arm was swinging around to point at her. She could see a dense filigree of slim lines radiating out from the neural induction pad in the middle of his palm, glowing an intense violet.
Ellie let out a yell of fright.
Then she was collapsing onto the floor, her whole body juddering. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything; not a single muscle obeyed her nerves. The paralysis was terrifying in its completeness.
“Don’t panic,” Gyvoy said disparagingly. “It’s only a nervejam; perfectly harmless. I need to finish up with my man here. Just making him a little more fucked up about his parents—the finishing touches, you might say, so he’ll do the right thing when the time comes. You humans can hold grudges for decades. So useful.”
Her sight was shifting away from the couch as her body continued to spasm. But she saw a slim black cylinder slide back into the flesh of Gyvoy’s forearm before he put his palm back on Finn’s.
