Confluence Point (26 page)

[We have the reply.] Hilary subbed to them

In a second the room became electric, charged with expectation.

[And?]

[The message is IFWWAS.]

[Send the next line Hilary, just to be sure.] Regan replied.

[Roger that team leader.]

They all laughed, and tension lifted.

"She's learning Regan; I always told you she was a top lady."

"Ham, you never miss an opportunity to sing the praises of your favorites."

"So Regan, what's the next line?" Leah asked.

"Didn't anyone teach you poems when you were a kid?" Regan teased "It’s Mary had a little lamb so the next part of the code would be; ‘and everywhere that Mary went’, AETMW. Ham will understand." Regan was bubbling with excitement now.

"So what will he reply with?"

"You want to answer that Ham?"

"I'd tell you where to go ha-ha. Seriously, I think I'd accept we have positive ID at that point and you can expect instructions."

"Ok then, well hopefully he'll tell us what to do; in the meantime we keep cruising."

[How long before we get a reply Hil?] Regan subbed.

[The first reply came back faster than I expected, only an hour and twenty seven minutes. He must have a ship or probe stationed somewhere on the edge of the system.]

"Ok guys, I'd say it's time to eat. Let's join the others while we wait."

The response took two hours.

"Regan, we have a reply."

Hilary's warm cultured voice drew their attention, laughter and chatter dying instantly. Despite the excitement they had gathered in Control to watch Dahlia visuals on the huge screen. More relaxed now Regan stayed put in her command chair with Jared draped across her legs. He hung there like a rag doll trying to perfect an upside down shot at Marin's constantly moving foot. Jean, Aaron and Leah swung their chairs back from the screen. It seemed logical somehow to be focusing in Regan's direction when momentous news came through.

"Let's have it Hilary."

"Just the four words in the message, Hold Fast, Code Red; that's it."

They all looked at each other with eyebrows raised, the unspoken question . . . what?

"I guess we stop then, can we even do that?" Regan asked.

"Sure we can," Hilary replied confidently, "but it will take a few hundred million kilometers. We've been slowing ever since coming out of warp and we're now traveling about point two five light. If we put some effort into it we'll slow soon enough and still be in interstellar space, certainly outside the Gliese gravity well. We'll still be cruising but effectively stopped."

"I gather you know what he means with that cryptic message Regan?" Jean asked.

"Sure, hold fast always means wait up, doesn't it? Code red means he's coming, somehow, hard and fast. I guess we at least slow down and wait. Is that how you see it Ham?"

"A chimp could have worked that out . . . no offense intended Jean."

"I'm immune Ham dear; thank you for confusing me with someone who would even care." Jean dismissed him and turned to Leah, a wry look on her face, "My sensitivities have
long
since been seared."

"Well, that's it then," Regan stood, sliding Jared to the floor. "I guess we wait. It makes sense to assess the situation from outside the system and it'll give you time to merge Ham. Then I guess we'll know everything."

* * *

The Hammer

Out of consideration for Sindali, Ham had retained a manifest presence and she seemed quite happy with the company. Fortunately it did not require too much of him. Despite her obvious intelligence and ability Ham found it something of a relief that keeping her amused required only a fraction of his processing power, especially as he had been assailed since the earlier meeting by demands for information from all over the system. Responding to every request stretched him sorely as the temptation to ignore everything and race for the edge of the system was almost irresistible.

On top of this, Sindali's insistence on picking up Buela and Rhine before leaving demanded every ounce of his strength. She was certain there would be no chance to come back after meeting Regan with the next stop sure to be Dahlia Orbital. As such, she wanted the children with her and would accept no arguments from Ham. He kept up a brave face for the first hour of the diversion to Tihan for pick up, however he was so frustrated inevitably the shakes set in. Like a drug to an addict, the news of Regan had triggered full blown impatient withdrawal and he began to rebel as they drew near to Tihan Orbital. Making some spurious argument for moving on proved the last straw for Sindali and her slap brought him to his knees.

 It came suddenly and without warning, the hand passing through the beautiful man's head like a machete through steam.

As Ham had promised, the effect was nevertheless profound. He staggered, looked shocked and offended for a brief moment and then apologized for his obvious distraction. Summoning strength Ham erected walls of defense against his wayward impulses and at the same time began repeating a new mantra . . . we'll be on the way soon . . . we'll be on the way soon . . . we'll be on the way soon . . . it seemed to do the trick.

Thanks to Tihan's considerate facilitation both children were already waiting at the flight decks and to Ham's immense relief the shuttle trip transporting them to the Hammer proved no great inconvenience. They were off in minutes with Tihan's good wishes and a promise that he would follow soon, whatever that meant . . . Ham wasn't really listening.

With children secured, Sindali distracted, and nothing further to hold him, Ham's eyes fixed firmly on the goal. With growing excitement he barely managed to clear the Orbital before letting rip. The huge warship accelerated rapidly away and then in total disregard for all in-system regulations he jumped them straight to warp.

* * *

The Mother Lode, in Transit to Earth

Early emergence from warp was probably unnecessary but Tyron thought it prudent. Still effectively interstellar, he nevertheless ordered immediate scanning of the vicinity as they continued to hurtle onward at not far under light speed. The scans revealed nothing, not within millions of square kilometers. Nothing, except to his immense relief, the sister warship Ascendant.

The stress he could hear in Rubik's voice when it came through matched his own and Tyron felt some relief that he had time to calm down before replying to the more junior Commander. Both had been uneasy since the unexplained loss of two warships during the second line jump and anxiety over their own fate had dominated their thoughts since. Although they had tried to keep the loss of the warships quiet, word had quickly leaked throughout both ships and it had been a tense and somber few weeks surfing the wave with fears centered on where and whether they would emerge.

By agreement the two ships drew nearer to each other, cuddling for comfort. They could journey in closer formation now as there would be no more warp jumps until they either headed home with their prize or fled home, the latter being clearly unacceptable.
Death or glory,
Rubik often thought, knowing it was Tyron's favorite mantra. As he boarded the shuttle for the hop across to the Mother Lode it struck him that Tyron's earlier bravado might prove to be presumptuous.

With two ships lost already surely the man's confidence will have been dented?

The shuttle slipped from one vessel to the other, providing welcome relief for Rubik. This journey from home had unsettled him on every level. As if the loss of two warships wasn't enough, this mission had impacted him in a quite surprising way. Never in his service to date had any ship AI been so engaging as this one. Command of the Ascendant had proved a lonely experience to begin with, his promotion to Commander creating a distance from the crew that was unexpected. Then, Rubik's tendency to talk out loud to himself when in private had produced an intriguing result. The ship had interpreted some of his spoken questions as requests for information. Before long he had found himself engaging with the ship AI and it had been some comfort, as if he was talking with an invisible friend. Unfortunately comfort was turning to unease as the damned thing seemed to be insinuating itself into his thinking. It had opinions, all the more unsettling as they were so carefully and diplomatically expressed. It was as if the ship was being persuasive, a salesman of some type, slowly winning him over,
to what?

Musing on these thoughts Rubik determined to keep the matter private for the time being. Things were desperate enough and he saw no sense in undermining Tyron's perception of him. The Senior Commander was notorious for dismissing those around him as fools and once labeled thus it seemed impossible to win the man's respect.
No, I will sort out the issue with the ship when I return. In the meantime it doesn't hurt to have someone to bounce ideas off.
As soon as the thought escaped his mind Rubik pushed it away with a shudder.
Someone . . . what am I thinking?

Through the forward screen he could see the Mother Lode port flight deck approaching. Soon he would be meeting with Tyron and quite possibly he would also meet the witch for the first time. Rubik shook his head with annoyance.
The witch . . . where did that label come from? It's treasonous!
Immediately his last conversation with the AI came back to him and he relived it as the shuttle continued its docking procedures.

Like all their conversations it had started in his room with an innocent rhetorical question. Innocent . . . perhaps not, more recently he had found himself asking questions in the hope of conversation, denying even to himself the truth of what he was doing.

"Who is this Regan I wonder?" It was a simple question, clearly rhetorical; he was speaking to himself after all.

Immediately the ship had responded, quite innocently it seemed, and with no hint of recognition that Rubik hadn't asked the question seriously.

"Regan Stein, Commander, is a young human of the planet Earth. Showing remarkable compassion toward one of our system she rescued the son of Mariner when he was near death just over two hundred periods ago, roughly six earth years. Marin was following in the research footsteps of his father, the great Mariner, and became injured in the course of his work. Regan Stein cared for him at great personal risk and returned him to our system."

The ship response had come as something of a surprise to Rubik. Nevertheless he couldn't resist the temptation to continue the line of questioning.

"Why does the Empress hate her so much?" he asked.

"On returning the injured Marin to Dahlia, Marin's half brothers assaulted and raped her for her troubles. Regan, in the fine tradition of Cora, acted as a true warrior woman in defense of the Princess Sindali who is loved throughout the system. When Sindali was attacked along with her children Regan rose up and killed the two brothers. Both were sons of the hated Beria or witch as the Empress is known on Dahlia. Sindali was established as the legitimate power and the witch was exiled to Cora."

"You seem to have strong opinions on this."

"Not at all . . . these are simply facts, the ship merely reports the truth as recorded in the system."

"Hmm . . . yes, I would think so. How did the Empress win the support of our Emperor?" Rubik was reclining at this point and he remembered easily slipping into the conversation, the only such conversation he had enjoyed for some time.

"The witch won the support of the Emperor by lying to him and telling him that the two sons Regan had killed were his own."

"You say lied. That's a strong accusation."

"Not an accusation commander, simply a fact. The ship, as you know, can only report facts. The genetic match shows the men could not have been the Emperor’s sons."

"Then why did the Emperor fall for the lie?"

"There's no fool like an old . . ."

"Stop!" He interrupted the AI, "And you would have me believe that too is a fact?"

"Some things are self evident Commander, and there is also of course the fact that the witch is easy."

"Easy?"

"Blow jobs . . . she performs oral sex on him."

Rubik laughed, "Easy, blow jobs . . . where
do
you get this?" He checked himself again . . .
Stop it man, the AI is not a 'you'.

Uncomfortable with the way the conversation was developing Rubik terminated the discussion at that time deciding instead to shower. The thoughts had stayed with him however, and troubled him even now.

The shuttle settled just inside the field screen and to Rubik's surprise the AI subbed him, just as he was about to stand.

[Be careful Commander, Tyron is a dangerous man and Beria
is
a witch. They will fight each other. Beware getting caught in the crossfire.]

[Why do you tell me this?]

There followed a long hesitation before the reply came, shocking him. [I like you
-
if you need help just sub me.]

Rubik hesitated in the open doorway, a cold shiver passing down his spine.

To his surprise a full military welcome greeted him, the assembled guard in full regalia and standing to attention providing an honor walk for him as he proceeded to the lifts. The Mother Lode was sister ship to his own and he needed no guide, so dismissing the escort he took his time, choosing to ascend the three levels to the control deck by stair, getting a feel for the ship. Tyron's cabin would match his own so he wasted no time exploring Control, turning instead to his left and marching toward the Commander's already open door.

Snapping to attention in the doorway he waited for an invitation to enter. Tyron, working at his desk, ignored him for a full minute before slowly turning to acknowledge Rubik's presence.

"Ahh, my young Commander, welcome. Come in and take a seat." Tyron turned back to his work.