Abysm (16 page)

Off to the side and out of view of the cams, Kennedy’s hand came to her mouth as applause now did break out, growing until it thundered. She leaned closer to Noah and whispered, “Did you know he was going to say all that?”

Noah shrugged mildly. “Nah, I didn’t dare hope. But he hasn’t done too badly.”

Lionel Terrage accepted the comm request from yet another Chamber member.

The inquiries had been steady for the last two hours. Some wanted to express their enthusiastic support, some their appalled disgust. Most were tentative, hesitantly asking questions, fearful but exploring the concept of ‘helping’ while lacking any understanding of what that might mean.

He donned his standard aloof, professional countenance. “Good to speak with you, Benjamin.”

The CEO of PanPacific Tech Labs pretended to inspect a side-screen, then another. “And you, Lionel. Brave thing you did today. It’s a real shame such difficult choices have had to be made by all involved. I don’t think you give the administration enough credit for trying to do the right thing, though. BANIA has its flaws, but we have to move forward and make the best of it in difficult times.”

“It seems we have different ideas about what ‘the right thing’ means. If you’ll excuse me, I need to see to more important matters.”

He cut the connection because he was bored and irked by it, but also because he
did
need to see to something more important—namely, the security cam showing Aquila police presenting a warrant file to the clerk at the entrance downstairs.

It had always been a risk, and one he’d made the decision to bear when he made the offer to host Ms. Rossi. He’d hoped it wouldn’t come to pass, but he couldn’t fairly say he was surprised it had.

He’d for all intents and purposes publicly thumbed his nose at the Winslow administration, after all, and the administration did not take kindly to being humiliated. Worse, it stamped out the brush fires of dissent with a panicked gusto normally reserved for handling virulent plagues.

Fleeing wasn’t a viable option. Even if he reached the shuttle pad on the roof, the authorities were liable to shoot his transport down. But more relevantly, he wasn’t built for life on the run. Where Noah had gotten the aptitude for it, he couldn’t begin to hazard a guess, but it was not from him.

He wasn’t built for life in a prison cell, either, but he’d survive it for a time and, if all went well, see the end of it before too terribly long.

He sent a few brief messages—to Noah, to his attorney and to his COO—then took a sip of water and straightened his jacket.

The officers brute-force hacked the door with an appalling lack of courtesy and took up defensive positions like this was some sort of armed standoff. “Lionel Terrage?”

“You needn’t have brutalized the door. I would have allowed you entry. All you needed to do was ask.”

“We have a warrant to search the premises for one Kennedy Rossi.”

“Alas, you’ve just missed her. But feel free to reassure yourselves of that fact.”

“We will. Lionel Terrage, you are under arrest for harboring a fugitive wanted on a judicial warrant.” The man produced a wrist restraint device and took a threatening step forward.

He exhaled in resignation. “Restraints won’t be necessary. I’ll come quietly.”

INTERMEZZO
II

AMARANTHE

E
RIDIUM
II
F
YLLIOT
S
TELLAR
S
YSTEM

S
ALOTE MADE EVERY EFFORT TO
remain hidden in his approach to the star system which hosted his homeworld. Despite his urgent desire to speed forward, he proceeded slowly in order to minimize his emissions, the one aspect of his travel which held any chance of exposure.

His ship bore no concealment mechanism, but it was so small, what machine could feasibly detect it from any distance? He and his ship were nothing, a pinprick in the vastness of space.

His chest tingled with blooming hope when he saw the planet was not yet gone—then with horror when he made out the giant, foul machines plundering it.

Only true demons could construct such nightmarish engines of carnage.

Though the teachings instructed he should not feel it, a great rage burst to life within him at the sight of the rampant destruction. What gave them the right to claim his home for their own wishes? It wasn’t theirs to take!

Remember Airini. Remember the little ones. Remember your purpose.

He chanted to calm himself, drifting through space for a long time—too long.

When he saw clearly again, he worked to cast a critical eye on the scene. The moon remained intact, as he’d speculated it would. Might it be possible the lunar port had not been searched by the interlopers? Might his family be hiding there, against all odds?

Renewed by the lightness of hope once more, he edged his ship closer to the moon.

Assignment Designation:
  I-4617-D883-J955

Sector:
  Eridium II 4A

Summary:
  Initial survey determined System 4A-CC57 harbored a single Tier II-D species. On arrival, the Theriz Cultivation Unit noted one hundred eighty-seven functioning mammals and a disproportionate number of empty structures built upon one of the target planetary bodies.

Directive:
  Investigate suspected disappearance of the bulk of the Tier II-D mammalian species.

Aver ela-Praesidis swept past the planet in question without contemplation. Theriz were never ones to wait when work existed to be done. Having fulfilled their duty by notifying the Praesidis Primor of the anomaly, the Cultivation Unit had already demolished all evidence of the resident species in their reaping of the materials the planet provided.

Near cosmic scans detected seven artificial objects circumnavigating the planetary space: six rudimentary measurement instruments and a single orbiting habitat.

Aver placed his ship into a complimentary orbit above the habitat. Not knowing the layout or contents of the interior, he elected to traverse the short distance rather than teleport inside.

His
diati
gathered the molecules necessary for respiration around him as he opened his ship’s airlock then propelled him forward until he reached the structure.

He commanded the sealed hatch to open, then set a bubble upon it so the evidence he sought was not drawn out into space.

On entering the habitat, he instantly sensed it was devoid of life. The small passages and tools attached to various stations told him the former inhabitants were diminutive creatures, perhaps 1.2 meters in height, with digited limbs by the design of the implements.

He wiped a length of hair off the wall with a grimace. Fur, of a wiry, short variety. Rodents.

A cleaning system still functioned, as did ventilation and air circulation. The habitat had not been abandoned for long.

Conclusion #1:
 The species was made aware a short time in advance that the Theriz Cultivation Unit would be arriving in System 4A-CC57.

He manipulated several pieces of equipment, dismantled them and inspected their construction. Electric wires. Epoxy. Barbaric.

Conclusion #2:
  The species lacked the technological capability to detect the approach of any Anaden vessel until its imminent arrival.

Conclusion #3:
  Members of a more advanced species alerted the native population to the impending Cultivation of their system.

Aver returned to his ship and linked into the Annals of Catalogued Species. Eridium II was not under productive development and not heavily populated. The number of active species in the galaxy who had ever departed their planets’ soil numbered only eight.

Of those, three had achieved interstellar flight; two were Accepted Species, one Eradicated. Neither of the Accepted Species showed any recorded incidents of malfeasance. He nonetheless noted them for further investigation.

The planet’s satellite orbited into view, and he shifted his attention to it. Artificial structures clashed with the mineralized surface in a series of crude lines and boxes, indicating the resident species had begun clumsily colonizing their moon.

He proceeded to the lunar base.

Signs of Eradication by the Theriz Cultivation Unit Advance Team were immediately visible. Some members of the native population had remained here when the Unit arrived, and they had been disposed of.

…Yet a heat signature emitted from one of the tiny ships on the landing platform. The signature was solely excess radiation, as the engine was not active, and the ship was unoccupied. The remainder of the ships were long cold.

One of the rodents had returned.

Aver landed nearby and crossed to the base entrance.

The air inside was not pleasant to his lungs, but a small amount of
diati
converted it to be so. He paused inside the entryway, seeking the indicia of a living organic being.

Heartbeat twenty-three meters distant at 31.46°. Very rapid by mammalian standards.
He advanced.

The rodent, its skin covered in a short coat of silvery fur, huddled on the floor. Its talons were wrapped around a deceased member of the species.

On seeing Aver, the rodent leapt up and backed into a corner while muttering meaningless squeals.

“Who enabled your species’ departure from this system?”

The rodent shook and shrieked. No apparent comprehension of the Communis language. Alas.

Aver flicked his wrist, and the rodent’s neck snapped. It collapsed to the floor atop the body it had been grasping.

He expanded his senses through the hallways of the structure to confirm no further life forms remained in residence, then teleported back to the landing platform.

If the rodent had departed and returned, its ship, rudimentary though it was, may well provide the answers he sought.

PART
III
:

SPIRAL

“Chaos results when the world changes faster than people.”

— Will Durant

15

SPACE, CENTRAL QUADRANT

A
BIGAIL ADMIRED SEVERAL CHARACTERISTICS OF
professional soldiers, as a rule.

They tended to be supremely competent at their jobs, with skillsets that were narrow and specialized but quite crucial in certain circumstances.

Below a level of officer rank—colonel, occasionally commodore—they did not profess to possess competencies outside those skillsets unless they actually possessed them.

But three-quarters of the way through the forty-hour flight from Sagan to Romane, the characteristic Abigail most admired about them was that as long as lethal weapons were not currently being utilized in the vicinity, professional soldiers weren’t inclined to engage in unnecessary talking.

She’d legitimately been able to work for most of the trip, as well as sleep when required and engage in several multi-party comms, all without intrusion or interruption. The trip had been, she’d daresay, productive in many respects.

Not all, however. The unexpected livecomm from Alex Solovy was more disquieting than fruitful, and it continued to trouble her now, several hours later.

“Abigail, hi. Valkyrie says hi, too. Truthfully, she kind of took over for a second there. She’s excited to get to talk to you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out until now. Obviously a lot was waiting on us when we got back.”

It had been a few months since they’d spoken, but she thought Alex sounded agitated. Jittery? “I completely understand. Vii has been talking with Valkyrie about your travels and filling me in, though I look forward to hearing your own impressions.”