Lacuna: The Spectre of Oblivion (7 page)

Satisfied she was adequately dressed, she undid the latch on the door and turned the knob, opening it. “Please come in,” she offered, “but don’t mind the mess. We weren’t expecting visitors.”

Tai stepped through the threshold, smiling slightly. “It’s quite fine, ma’am.”

Liao raised an eyebrow sardonically. “Aren’t you going to say something in Chinese just so I can rebuke you and ask you to speak in English only?”

Tai laughed at that, rolling his eyes. “They warned me about your preference in languages, and I was specifically picked because of my English fluency. So no.”

She folded her arms, frowning. “Really?”

“They told me you wouldn’t be happy about me telling you that, either.”

“So far ‘they’ are two for two.” Liao shook her head. “I still don’t know why you’re here.”

“There was a threat against you,” Tai said. “It came from the Kel-Voran embassy. I suppose there are downsides to being famous, ma’am.”

She raised an eyebrow curiously. “The one in Melbourne? I’m not sure I understand; what do the Kel-Voran have against me?”

“Nothing. The message was relayed through the Kel-Voran by the Toralii Alliance. Fleet Command believes the threat is credible, so they’ve assigned a guard to your person.”

Liao tried very hard not to roll her eyes. “This has absolutely nothing to do with the alien crashing on my couch?”

Tai shook his head emphatically. “No. Security’s vetted Saara. She’s not a threat.”

“Well, right. I’m not sure how an armed bodyguard will assist against the Toralii. Their method of assassination seems to be orbital bombardment, and while I’m sure you’re good at your job, I don’t think you can prevent that kind of thing. Takes a little more than pepper spray.”

Tai gave a firm nod. “No, you’re right of course…” His features brightened somewhat. “But the powers that be had to be seen to be doing something, which is why they sent me. Of course it’s all political, I’m afraid.”

Liao nodded. “Well, thanks for your honesty. I appreciate that.”

“They said you would.”

She tried, and failed, to keep her mouth closed. “I wish ‘they’ would put as much effort into finding out more about this supposed threat, and avoiding unnecessary politics, as they did in predicting my every move.”

Tai smiled an apologetic smile. “You and me both. Alas we are but mortals, Captain.”

Liao waved her hand at that. “To be a captain you have to have a ship. It’s just Commander now, but you know what? These days I’d prefer simply Melissa.”

“That’s a little informal, isn’t it?”

She gestured down to her jeans. “My official post in the People’s Army is Person of Interest to the Parade and Propaganda Unit. Literally, my job for the last six months has been to simply
exist
. I think I can throw away silly things like ranks and titles at this point.” Her voice softened slightly. “I’m not a captain anymore. I’m basically a civilian. Might as well act like it.”

“Very well, as you wish.” Tai stepped into the room, casually putting his hands into his pockets. “I’ll note that in my paperwork.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, you make sure you do. As well as the filthy state of my apartment, I suppose?”

Tai smiled. “Nah, that one can remain our secret, assuming you kept some of that scotch you were famous for having.”

“I kind of hoped I’d become famous for blowing up not one, but two Toralii outposts, for winning hopeless battles against long odds… and for fucking another space captain.” She gave a depreciating smile. “Well, maybe not that last bit.”

“Unfortunately, you’re well known for all three. It’s an unfortunate problem in our media driven society that one’s victories are forgotten and our defeats immortalised.”

“Yes, well, until we die. Then the process reverses itself; nobody can speak ill of the dead.”

“No, I guess not. So, scotch?”

Liao pointed to the kitchen. “Top shelf, third one along. Pour me some while you’re at it; the baby will be awake soon.”

Tai stepped away to fetch the drinks, and Liao slumped into the seat beside her couch, glancing over at Saara who seemed to be fast asleep. When Tai returned, she had nearly joined her Toralii friend in having a nap, but she accepted the drink without complaint. In seconds it was gone, and Liao savoured the burning feeling as it slipped down her throat.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s it like being in space?” asked Tai, sitting on the chair opposite hers, giving Saara a curious glance. Liao had become quite accustomed to the Toralii’s presence and sometimes forgot that it would be startling for those who were not used to her.

“Huh?”

“Space. You were there, remember?” Tai leaned forward, cupping his drink with both hands. “What’s it like?”

“Hell,” Liao answered, resting her empty cup down with a clink of ice on glass. “Back in my day, they used to shoot you up there in a rocket. These days, you get a ride in a Broadsword, but those old rockets didn’t have artificial gravity. I don’t know about you, but when I’m in zero gravity, my lunch usually makes a cameo appearance. When you get there, you’re crammed up with eight thousand crew, most of whom have somewhat lackadaisical attitudes towards bathing, and all of them treat you as some kind of surrogate parent to come crying to with every little detail. They fight, whine, fuck, get blind drunk, break things, get homesick, cry for their mummy, have affairs, their wives or husbands have affairs, get claustrophobic… They have every personal problem under the sun. They devolve into a kind of child-like state. The food is inedible, the paperwork endless, and the job tiresome. You don’t get much sleep, and unlike a real ship, you can’t just go out and take a walk—it’s mighty cold out there. You live in a highly oxygenated environment so your fitness suffers and, due to being surrounded by the void and millions of kilometres away from anywhere, it’s dangerous. People call on you at every time of day and night and your life revolves around the Operations room. There’s a constant threat of alien attack, aliens who, might I add, significantly out-class you, out-number you, out-gun you. You never see your family. It’s intensely lonely, and when you come back from doing the impossible, they throw you in a court martial. And did I mention the pay is terrible?”

He laughed. “Eh, the pay’s okay. Beats my old job, working IT for the coal mines.” Tai swished his drink. “So why did you do it?”

Liao tilted her head back, staring up at the ceiling, silent for a moment. “Because it was the best job I’ve ever had.”

“You realise how insane that sounds, right?”

She nodded, instinctively reaching for the empty glass, then putting it back down. “Yeah.” Liao laughed, shaking away her memories. “Doesn’t make it untrue, though. It’s… a wonderful opportunity, despite its hardships. I think that year in space was probably the best of my life, and I did a damn good job, too. I think it really was my calling. It was something I could do really well. I was born to be the captain of that ship. It was the best thing I’d ever done, and I was good at it.” She cast her eyes to the door that held her sleeping infant. “Better captain than I am a mother, I think.”

Tai drank the last of his drink. “I don’t know anything about that, really. She’s still alive; that would indicate that you’ve done just fine.”

“Maybe.”

“You really haven’t named your kid?”

“Nope.” An edge of annoyance crept into her tone. “I’ve already had this discussion with James, and it’s really something we should sort out ourselves.”

Tai held up a hand. “Of course. I’m merely saying, it’s very odd. And the press is really curious about why you’re doing it. I think they’re guessing it’s some kind of ploy to throw them off.”

“The press can go fuck themselves. I—
we—
haven’t decided on a good name yet, and that’s all I have to say. In time, she’ll have the most beautiful and perfect name, but right now… we’re not ready.”

The door to their bedroom swung open with a faint creak. James stepped, naked, into the foyer.

Liao pointed over her shoulder. “James, Mister Tai. Mister Tai, naked James.”

“Nice to meet you,” James mumbled, yawning as he stretched.

Tai did a double take, but James seemed too tired to care, simply shrugging and walking into the kitchen. “Does he normally do that?”

“We haven’t had much time to sleep, what with the baby needing attention every few hours or so,” Liao said, “and we don’t get many visitors.”

Tai grimaced slightly. “Captain Grégoire is supposed to be resting during his shore leave.”

“A recognised part of shore leave is to spend time with family,” Liao countered. “And besides, it’s good for his morale.”

Tai laughed, nodding. “Right, right. And I probably shouldn’t be telling captains what to do with their time.”

Liao waved a hand. “Whatever. I told you; it’s fine.”

Tai peered at her for a moment as though confused by the surprising informality, then seemed to remember something, snapping his fingers. “Well actually, there was one thing, too. Captain de Lugo was hoping to visit sometime in the next couple of months, as he will be in town inspecting some of the gear scheduled to be put in the TFR
Madrid
.”

The name rang a bell. Putting that thought aside for a moment, Liao raised an eyebrow. “They finished that thing?”

“Not quite. It’s spaceworthy, but a lot of the systems haven’t been installed: flight control, jump navigation, fighter launch subsystems. It has rail guns though, apparently, according to the news.”

“No nukes?” she asked. The
Triumph
class ships, such as the
Beijing
and the
Madrid
, carried warheads tipped with nuclear devices. Although the rail guns had substantially more effective range due to their higher speed, and conventional thought had anticipated that the vast distances found in space combat would render more conventional weapons useless, the reality was space warfare took place at extremely close quarters. The same problem was observed when aircraft started to carry long-range missiles in the Vietnam war; although an F4 Phantom could destroy a Soviet MiG from up to twenty miles away, matters of identification and the unreliability of missiles meant that close-range dogfighting was the most common form of engagement. This process of relearning lessons the armed forces of the world had already learnt was painful but progressing rapidly.

“Not yet. Apparently they’re being installed fairly soon-ish; there’s hope that the
Madrid
can join the
Sydney
on its next operation. There’s talk of pairing the two ships on a more permanent basis so they can project more force as a unit.”

Although the
Sydney
had suffered the worst of them, all of the first three Pillars of the Earth had suffered various system malfunctions and instabilities during their initial shakedown cruises. She hoped the worst of the issues would be resolved for the new breed of ships. “Good.”

[“Mister Tai,”] came a voice from the couch. Saara pulled herself up into a sitting position, giving a yawn that displayed a wide array of very sharp teeth. [“Apologies, but I felt I could pretend to be asleep no longer.”] She smiled to the guard, a genuine smile, but one Liao thought was somewhat guarded. [“I am Saara.”]

“A pleasure,” Tai said, nodding politely. “I’ve read your file. Although I must confess; my Toralii language is not very good. I’m sorry.”

Saara shuffled somewhat uncomfortably, looking to Liao. [ “I must confess, I served in a humble position when I was with the Telvan. I am unused to celebrity and having my name be known to every stranger. I am not sure I can ever become accustomed to it.”]

“You and I both,” said Liao. Seeing Tai’s confused look, Liao repeated what she had said in English.

James wandered back out, turned down the corridor, then disappeared into the laundry room. Tai discreetly drank until James returned, moments later, now wearing a pair of ill-fitting pants and a shirt.

“So who’s this Mister Tai, then?”

Liao grimaced slightly. “My bodyguard, apparently.”

“You requested a bodyguard?”

Tai gave an apologetic smile. “No, Captain, it wasn’t her. Commodore Vong did.”

Liao reached out and patted James on the thigh. “I told him to call me Melissa. You should probably do the same thing or it’ll get awkward.”

James seemed less enthusiastic about it but reluctantly nodded his head. “Right. Call me Melissa, too.”

The four of them all laughed, then Tai nodded. “Right, right. Melissa and Melissa. Got it.”

Liao smiled, then the baby started to cry again and she eased herself out of her chair, giving James a reassuring pat as he put his head in his hands.

*****

Tai stood guard the first night he arrived, having spent the remainder of the day sweeping their apartment for bugs, surveying the entrances and exits, and determining vantage points for snipers. Liao thought the process entirely unnecessary, but she understood that he was just doing his job.

It was the evening, after Liao had fed their infant and was preparing to crawl back into bed again, that her phone rang with a blocked number. Curious, for she did not receive many calls, Liao fished it out of her pocket and answered.