Lacuna: The Prelude to Eternity (15 page)

Time ticked away. With no more information forthcoming from
Piggyback
,
all they could do was wait. Despite their questions, Kollek knew no more than Liao except that the Iilan only wanted to speak directly to Liao.

“I hadn’t anticipated this,” Liao said to Kamal as the
Piggyback
and the Iilan ship drew closer, agonisingly slowly crossing the distance between the L1 Lagrange point and the
Beijing
. The Apollo program landers had taken over three days to get from Earth to Luna, but modern reactionless drives moved their ships over similar distances within hours.

“Nobody could have,” said Iraj. “Do not worry.”

The
Beijing
was hardly combat effective. Then again, they had never needed a ship to be so when dealing with the Iilan. They seemed diplomatic, if aloof and detached, although Liao suspected that if it came to a firefight, the Iilan would have more than one technological terror up their sleeve.

As the ship drew closer, the long-range cameras caught a view of it. The Iilan craft, a perfect sphere floating in space, was ruptured, golden fluid spilling out into the void. The otherwise smooth surface was pitted with holes, scorch marks, and craters. It was a tiny moon, limping toward them, tilted as though it were an ocean-going vessel listing at sea, an eyeball leaking glinting blood into space, blood that took with it debris of various types: electronics, equipment, bodies.

What had done this? Who could wound the Iilan so?

Why were even the Iilan, their trading partners of a sort, afraid to come here? James’s words echoed in her mind.
We are the Detroit of the galaxy
. Fear was a powerful thing, even across species.

“They look like shit,” Iraj observed. “What the hell happened?”

“Only one way to know,” said Liao. “Guess I gotta get my hair wet again.”

The Iilan lived in a liquid ship. The purpose of this fluid was unclear to Liao. When they had first met, Paar had listed a great many applications for it although Liao wasn’t sure that she believed everything he had said. Even visiting the ship presented strange challenges, but at least the docking procedure was simple.

The
Beijing
and the Iilan ship pulled alongside each other in the void, and the Iilan extended an umbilical. A mask was provided, floated through the dock and deposited on the floor. She clipped the mask over her face and stepped into the golden fluid that was the interior of the ship, floating in the orange. Was this her life, to drift through one strange alien liquid after another? Leaving the tank had been a relief for her, and being immersed once again was an uncomfortable reminder of her injury.

Liao tried to focus on her surroundings, but the harm to the Iilan ship made it difficult. Normally, the interior fluid was clear and translucent; however, damage and debris were clouding everything, making it difficult to see more than a few metres with any degree of clarity. Even through the mask, she could smell acrid things, as though the damage of the battle were seeping through the metal or into her skin.

She did not want to think about that.

The ship’s liquid contents shifted as crackles of energy ran between several consoles and pieces of equipment, flashes of light breaking through the dirty fluid. Would the entire ship be electrified? She would be killed instantly or flushed out into space if whatever strange force keeping the fluid inside the ship failed.

She did not want to think about that either.

Speaker Paar, the Iilan whose job it was to liaise with her, floated toward her through the damaged, murky fluid. Like the other Iilan, he was a creature with wings for arms, thick brown feathers, and clawed feet. His beak opened in a way Liao initially thought hostile, but perhaps sensing her reaction, he closed it and spoke normally.

“Greetings, Commander Liao. I apologise that our hospitality is not as it once was.”

“It’s Captain now,” she said by reflex. “And I’m not concerned by it. I’m just glad you were all able to reach us.” Something about his voice was different. It had always been so smooth and clear. He had changed his accent somehow. “What have you done to your throat, Speaker Paar?”

“Genetic sequencing has altered my vocal cords, making articulation of more of your languages possible. We wish to further our diplomatic relations with you, and we understand that your people speak many tongues, as might be expected from the scattered survivors of a world drawn together by circumstance.”

The Iilan had always been accommodating of humanity, up to a point, but that was something different. That was a deliberate attempt to impress her, along with the subtle implication of further diplomatic relations. “You are correct, of course.”

“And you have changed as well.” He gestured to her prosthetic. “Standard Toralii hardware. Interesting you chose that.”

Her shoulder itched. She subconsciously scratched it. “The choice was forced upon me by necessity. Human technology is behind that of the Toralii, especially in robotics and cybernetics. Humanity doesn’t have the luxury of developing an indigenous solution. I needed a functioning arm.”

“I can understand that. The Iilan, too, are a practically minded people, on the whole. We have also been forced into less than palatable solutions in order to survive.”

Liao smiled although the mask would largely hide the gesture. “Then we have more in common than I originally anticipated.”

Speaker Paar’s face remained stony. “Indeed we do, Captain Liao. The purpose of our return is not idle conversation.”

She let her demeanour return to a professional level. “We saw the damage to your ship as you arrived. I prefer not to speculate with these kinds of sensitive issues, but I am guessing it has something to do with why you are here.”

Paar inclined his head in a remarkably Human gesture. Liao wondered how much he had learnt of Humans and their ways—and so swiftly, as well. To undergo genetic modification simply to appeal to her… The gesture of politeness suddenly took on an undertone of desperation.

“We were attacked.”

“By who?” She frowned. “You have always been fair in your dealings with us. Even if we would have liked more of your aid, your impartiality and dedication to equitable trade has been a constant factor in our interactions, one I can respect. Who would have reason to harm you?”

Paar’s tone darkened. His voice, strangely distorted, sounded like a bag of gravel. “Who do you think?” After a breath, he seemed to regain some of composure. “The Toralii Alliance have long envied our technological supremacy. They covet our ship. They consider it a treasure trove of unfathomable power, the reward for a particularly vexing puzzle. They do not understand, or seem not to care, that it is the life support for our species, the only thing that remains of our peaceful, scientifically minded people.

“They regularly attack us. Every few years, some Warbringer develops what he or she considers a novel way of overcoming our defences. We have always prevailed. But now, for the first time since the loss of our world, a weakness has been identified we cannot compensate for.”

“A weakness?” Liao folded her hands. “Without being too forward, Speaker Paar, what weakness is this?”

His face fell as though he were recounting a sad tale. “Time.”

A flash of electricity made her jump. She refocused, trying to assign meaning to what Paar was telling her. “I don’t understand.”

“I told you when our people first met, yes, that the nature of our survival hinged on genetic engineering. Part of this process requires a rare fluid harvested from a plant found only on a world in a backward corner of this galaxy. The location of this planet is secret, and our procurement process highly guarded. Unfortunately for us, the Toralii learnt of both the plant and its uses. They could not synthesise the chemical despite expending considerable effort in the attempt, so they took a large supply of samples and scoured that world from the skies. Nothing remains.”

“I am sorry.” Liao carefully extended her hand and, after Paar’s eyes gave her permission, touched his shoulder. “I can understand your pain. The loss of our people is significant, but on Velsharn we have hope. I do not know what we would do if we lost that.”

“I imagine you would do as we have done,” said Paar. “Fight with everything you have to reclaim it. And when you fail… come crawling to your trading partners, begging for aid.”

The request was hardly subtle. Liao returned her hands to her sides, a neutral stance. “How can we help?”

Paar’s stature changed, becoming slightly defensive. “You do not wish to state your payment first?”

“That will depend entirely on the nature of your request,” Liao kept her tone even and professional, a position she expected the Iilan to respect, “assuming we can help at all.”

“That is reasonable.” Paar relaxed although it seemed to be a forced, deliberate action. “The last few, precious samples of the plant we require are located in a secure Toralii Alliance facility on a remote world far from here. We need those samples. We cannot retrieve them alone. The facility is a fortress with layers of defence. Our ship was damaged simply discovering where the samples were being held.”

“So you need us to assault this world for you.”

“Yes.” Paar’s tone was blunt and direct. “We cannot do this alone, and humanity have been fair with us, even when your people bled and suffered. You returned the data about the jump drive as promised. It has proved invaluable in our ongoing efforts to prevent more singularities opening in the universe.”

“A wise human once said the mark of a man is how he treats people he has power over.” Liao considered. “I will need to take this matter to the remaining captains and civic leaders. We are in a safe place now. The Toralii Alliance have let us be after our combined victory over them. Our attention has turned to more civic matters: restoring our population, strengthening our defences, and exploration of this system.”

Paar’s expression fell, but Liao shook her head to preempt him. “I will advocate for intervention on your behalf,” she said. “I expect my opinion will sway the others.”

“Good.” Paar smiled with his eyes. “We can provide coordinates to the world and as much tactical information as we can muster. Please know that, even if you are successful, our survival is far from guaranteed. The samples will not last forever, and we have found no way to grow this plant ourselves. Regardless, you have our thanks as a species, Captain Liao, and my own personal gratitude as well.”

“Thank me when you get your samples back,” she said, swimming backward toward the airlock. “Send along your data. Our people will take a look.”

“Why are you helping us?” Paar’s question was plain. “Why?”

“The same reason you helped us,” she said. “Watching your whole species die sucks.”

He smiled with his eyes but it was not a happy smile. It was forced, sad… resigned. “I could not agree more,” said Paar, clicking his beak quietly, his wings swaying in the cloudy fluid.
 

“There is one other matter.” Liao hesitated to say it, but the words came out anyway. “We have an option for attacking the Toralii, an indigenous design which may yet prove to be effective. We will need your help to deploy it to their fleet.”

The interest sparked in his eyes. “Which fleet?”

Her smile, reluctant though it was, widened. “All of them.”

A
CT
II

C
HAPTER
V

Bean Knowledge

*****

Eden

Velsharn

T
HERE
WERE
NO
MORE
DRILLS
. The
Madrid
returned to fall into formation with the
Beijing
, the
Washington
,
and the
Tehran
. By the time Liao returned to Operations, Paar had sent the required data. Liao wasted no time in distributing the information to the whole fleet.

The
Piggyback
docked with the
Washington
and began unloading the salvage and survivors.

Survivors.

The concept had seemed impossible to her. They had pulled living Humans from the ruin of Earth? It inspired a duality in her: hope that more people may be recovered, slim in number though they were; and guilt for assuming nobody could have survived the planet-wide hellish firestorm that had engulfed Earth.

A day’s worth of preparations were made, mainly checks to make sure the
Beijing
had truly survived its liftoff from Eden, and then she, Anderson, James, de Lugo, Sabeen, and Williams—the captains of the surviving ships in the fleet—arranged to meet aboard the
Madrid
. De Lugo was the first to arrive. He greeted Liao warmly as she took her seat, and she returned the gesture. Then James, Williams, and Sabeen arrived.

As Anderson entered, he did so with an Asian man with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a U.S. Air Force uniform and a stern look on his face. Her eyes met the stranger’s, and for a moment, she looked back into the past.

“Sheng?”

Discomfort pervaded everything, palpable and clear. Lieutenant Commander Gaulung Sheng had been assigned as Liao’s first officer upon taking command of the
Beijing
. It turned out that, aside from harbouring distinct resentment towards her over a command he perceived he deserved, he had been communicating with Ben behind the back of Fleet Command and herself.