Read Raising Caine - eARC Online
Authors: Charles E. Gannon
Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Space Opera, #Alien Contact, #General
Raising Caine - eARC (6 page)
Chapter Six
Far orbit; Sigma Draconis Two
Olsirkos Shethkador-vah was waiting at the embarkation portal when the plates of that outsized iris valve rang open. Tlerek Srin Shethkador stalked over the threshold and dismissively acknowledged the crew’s obeisance, offered the moment the
krexyes
horn howled to announce his arrival. Shethkador was gratified to notice that the horn was genuine and not some insulting pseudo-chitin imitation. He nodded irritably at Olsirkos. “’Vah,” he muttered, “escort me to the Sensorium at once.”
Olsirkos waved four huscarls over. Their composite armor plates thumped dully as they fell in around the Srin and the ’vah. “Srin Shethkador, do you not wish an interval of restoration in your quarters? We have prepared suitable facilities in the rotational habitat, and hope you—”
“I must make contact with the Autarchs immediately. I will take my ease later.”
“Fearsome Srin, the orders we carry from the Autarchs do not compel you to—”
“I follow protocols of which you would not be apprised.”
Olsirkos averted his eyes deferentially. “Yes, Srin.”
“Your diligence in pursuing both your duty and my comfort are noted, Olsirkos.”
“The Srin honors me with his regard.”
“So I do.”
And now that he has been lulled into a false sense of security
—“However, that honor is overshadowed by your handling of my repatriation. You shifted into this system near the main world, knowing that it was surrounded by the Aboriginals? And you entered at combat speed, with the rotational habitats retracted, and without compliance to the Accord transponder requirements? Were you trying to rekindle the recent war, ’vah?”
Olsirkos—who could well expect to lose face, rank, or possibly toes or fingers over such infractions—did not flinch or swallow nervously. “Those orders were not mine, Masterful Srin.”
“Ah. At the behest of the Autarchs, then?”
“It is as you say, Srin.”
So: more idiocies from dust-covered oligarchs who spend too much time plotting combats rather than engaging in them
. “Explain, ’vah.”
Olsirkos nodded compliance. “Most of the Autarchs wished to effect your repatriation with a minimum of activity or upset. Several, our own House included, opined that it would be best if we merely sent an away-boat to reclaim you from a neutral facility, such as a free-floating module. But Houses Jerapthere and Falsemmar insisted that this first direct meeting with the Aboriginals should show them how primitive and useless their spacecraft and weapons would be in a confrontation with ours.”
“And their rationale for such an idiotic plan?”
“I was not privy to their discussions, Potent Srin. However, the implicit rationale of the orders seems to be this: by striking terror and awe into the Aboriginals, they will be doubly reluctant to engage or confront us, and thereby, be more easily intimidated and manipulated.”
“Absurd. The Autarchs have achieved but one thing: they have revealed the standards of innovation and excellence that the Aboriginals must be resolved to meet. And, so, they will become less terrified.”
“Fearsome Srin, I do not understand.”
Of course you don’t
. “’Vah, attend and learn. For the Aboriginals, we were
more
terrifying when they lacked any sense of our capabilities. That constant, unbounded fear would have undermined their efforts against us, for they lacked a concrete benchmark which, once achieved, ensured greater parity with us.
“Most Aboriginals find such an amorphous competition exhausting: it ultimately erodes their morale and energy. But, thanks to the Autarchs, they now have quantifiable technological intelligence on our mid-range space and military capabilities.”
“But, seeing how far above them those capabilities are, will that not terrify and cow them?”
No matter how carefully the Breedmothers groom the genelines, the gift for strategic insight remains rare and elusive.
“’Vah, you do not understand this phenomenon because you are too accustomed to interacting with helots and huscarls. Like other Wildings, Aboriginals have not been taught to percieve and presume their own innate inferiority. Rather, they will work to catch up to us, if agitated. And this ship’s ominous approach has indeed agitated them.
“It is alarming that the Autarchs failed to learn this lesson from the Aboriginal repulse of the recent invasion, since I presume that they all supported this insipid posturing.”
“Several objected initially, Srin, but ultimately consented. In return, those reluctant Autarchs received concessions.”
“Which were?”
Olsirkos stood taller. “That a member of House Shethkador—namely, myself—should be placed in command of this Aegis hull. As it was, they were unwilling to accord that honor to anyone over the rank of a first generation Evolved. So I was sent.” Olsirkos’ voice did not falter, but his gaze did. “I was concerned you might feel insulted that you were retrieved by a mere ’vah, such as myself.”
“I am insulted, naturally,” Shethkador said with a shrug, “but am neither so stupid nor intemperate as to perceive you as the architect of the insult.”
Besides, it’s not as though the rival Houses would accept two Awakened Shethkadors as the two senior officers on an Aegis ship. A multi-House command staff is the only means whereby the Autarchs are assured that a hull’s actions will not be unduly influenced by factionalism
. “Immediately after I have completed my Reification, I will be consulting the ship’s manifest to acquaint myself with our resources. Are there any expended or missing assets of which I should be made aware?”
“Not as such, Srin. But some assets were deployed to observe the Aboriginal activity in the system we passed through immediately prior to this one.”
“And that system is?”
“V 1581, Srin. Upon arriving there, we discerned it to be the system where the humans first entered Arat Kur space. They left behind two tankers. One is a megacorporate ship; the other is from the TOCIO bloc. Another craft, the prize hull the humans have renamed
Doppelganger
, was also present, hurrying to make shift here. Since it seemed likely that we would have to reenter the V 1581 when we begin our journey back to the Ktoran Sphere, I deployed one of our patrol hunters,
Red Lurker
, with our frontier observation team to gather information on the Aboriginal traffic and activity in the system.”
Srin nodded. “Very well. And how long has
Red Lurker
been on station there?”
“Approximately three weeks, but they are furnished for long-duration detached operations. Also, should something untoward befall them, they are quite expendable.”
“More so than the rest of
Monolith
’s crew?”
“Yes, Srin. The frontier team assigned by the Aegis overseers were almost all Arrogates, and few have genelines prized by their adoptive Houses. If they are lost, it neither diminishes our ability to project force, nor strikes a hostile spark between any Houses.”
Arrogates, who were descended from Extirpated Houses, were noteworthy for their political neutrality, having little reason to prefer one faction above another. But, in consequence, they were a polyglot group and, so, often trailed loose ends of mixed loyalties and diverse aspirations.
Tlerek Srin Shethkador did not like loose ends and this situation promised to be rife with them, some of which might be fraying badly at the margins. He would have preferred to immediately peruse the dossiers of the frontier group in detail, but it was urgent that he conclude his contact with the Autarchs swiftly. He restricted himself to one cautionary observation regarding the detached observation team: “It is unwise to leave behind any groups with technology that, if it were to fall into the hands of the Aboriginals, would help them achieve parity with us. Your hands will be forfeit if you have been careless, ’vah.”
Olsirkos smiled shrewdly. “In this particular, you need have no misgivings, Fearsome Srin. While the frontier team does have advanced technology with them, it is impossible for the Aboriginals to acquire it.”
“That is a most confident, but also a most improbable, statement. Serendipity favors all combatants equally. How is it, then, that the Aboriginals could not, under some odd inversion of likely outcomes, lay hold to the technology possessed by the frontier team?”
Olsirkos smiled more widely. “Because I put the technology, and the team, someplace that the Aboriginals cannot reach.”
Shethkador did not show the extent to which Olsirkos’ mysterious comment and confidence intrigued him. He stopped before the entry to the Sensorium. “I require that the honor guard precede me and sweep for any anomalies before I enter.” Olsirkos gestured the guards through an iris valve that opened upon a circular, dimly lit chamber. A pong of thick, unctuous musk and decaying incense wafted out.
“I will want a complete operational report when I am done here. Be sure that it is extremely detailed,” Shethkador warned Olsirkos. “I may have need of the smallest particulars.” His honor guard, finished with their sweep, stood aside at rigid attention as he entered the reeking, domed chamber.
After the antique iris valve rasped closed, Shethkador sealed it with his personal code and crossed to the small, featureless panel where the Catalysites were stored. He passed his hand over the panel, which, sensing the requisite amount of Symbiot in his bloodstream, slid open. He removed one of the tightly sealed opaque vials waiting in a row, tapped for the panel to self-seal, and positioned himself on the cushions he had selected.
Among the Awakened, who were the unofficial meritocrats of the Evolved, some relished the power and reach of a Catalysite-assisted Reification, claiming it to be the ultimate dominative euphoria. Shethkador was not among their number, and secretly contemned such Awakened as weak-minded sybarites. After all, they reveled in the dominion enabled by the Symbiot without bothering to reflect that they were relying upon an external source to attain that acme of power. Well, no matter: that weakness would eventually be their undoing when the genelines of their Houses came to contend with another that was populated by fewer lotos-eaters.
Shethkador elected to forego the meditative preparations: it was traditional superstition rather than effective practice, in his opinion. He popped open the vial and inserted his finger into the complex microecology within until it met the sluglike dermis of the Catalysite.
He contemplated a quadratic equation until the perfusive flood of burning had swept out into his body. It left a singed tingling in its wake and a perception of the universe as a hierarchy of pressure-sensitive control cells, each cluster of which was itself but a small cell in still greater control clusters, and which all expanded upward and outward into a limitless whole that was greater than the sum of its parts, and through which his awareness grew and expanded, rushing toward an infinitely receding periphery that was the demarcation line of—
All things stopped. Were frozen in the impossibly small spatio-temporal lacunae that separated every action from every reaction, even on the level of entangled quanta. Guided by instinct and the Symbiot within him—and he detested being uncertain of where the former ended and the latter began—he found the incomplete cluster he sought: the Autarchs of the Ktor.
Who were slightly more than fifty-five light years distant.
Chapter Seven
Far orbit; Sigma Draconis Two
Davros Tval Herelkeom, senior of the five Autarchs who had made themselves available, acknowledged Tlerek’s contact: “Your signal is clear, Srin Shethkador. Your House sends its compliments and anticipates a report of success.” Which was a strange greeting in that this affirming welcome should have come from Tlerek’s great-uncle once removed, the Tval Kromn Shethkador, who was present in the group.
On the other hand, if these walking fossils are strongly split among themselves at the moment, it might be deemed an unacceptable entreé to House-domination if both Shethkador voices become preeminent in this counsel.
Tlerek sought a tone of response that was at once direct, assertive, and tinged by the annoyance he felt over the resolution of the war upon Earth. “Regrettably, I must disappoint the anticipations of both my House and the Autarchs. The Aboriginals stayed their vengeance against the Arat Kur home world, largely because they discovered my identity as
homo imperiens
.”
A long pause, and then a contentious, angry query from Beren Tval Jerapthere. “You have failed?” Beren’s inquiry bordered on effrontery.
“
I
did not fail, but I report failure. Do you wish my report on the conclusion of the war?”
Beren became peremptory. “Yes, at once.”
“I am pleased to comply. The fleets of the so-called Consolidated Terran Republic successfully misled the Arat Kur and Hkh’Rkh into believing that their initial attack upon Barnard’s Star was a genuine surprise which decimated their formations. This was a ruse. The human fleets reappeared after the invaders divided their forces and were committed deep within the gravity well of Home, or, as the Aboriginals call it, Earth. Aided by a Dornaani computer virus introduced through a joint Custodian-Aboriginal clandestine operation, the forces of our proxies were neutralized or eliminated, with many of their hulls falling into the hands of the ‘Terrans.’”
Davros Tval Herelkeom resumed control, somewhat archly,of the contact. “Current disposition of enemy forces?”
“I am unsure, but the most technologically advanced of the Aboriginal fleets are currently here in far orbit about the Arat Kur Homenest, which has surrendered to them.”
“They surrendered?”
“Yes. You may recall my prediction that I would lose the ability to mislead each side into believing that the other was obdurate in their hostility if the Aboriginals discerned my true speciate identity. Which they did.”
Ruurun Tval Tharexere, oldest of the Autarchs and of his unity-obsessed House, entered his observations into the contact. “This is most unwelcome news.”
“With all respect, Autarch, the course of events followed my misgivings as players follow a script. The Aboriginals detected the forensically inconclusive waste-emissions from the false environmental suit and that, in conjunction with the military and diplomatic peculiarities of the conduct of the conflict, led one of them to hypothesize my true species.”
Beren’s resentment and rage were palpable through the contact: he had been the architect of many of the stratagems that had gone awry. “You would blame our plans, our technicians, for your own failures? Failures against Aboriginals?”
“Instruct me, Autarch: how were these
my
failures? Did I not point out the risks in the suit’s design and the underlying xenobiological conceits? And did I not predict that the Aboriginals had an excellent chance of defeating the Arat Kur?”
“Yes, but their defeat was an acceptable outcome if it created an opportunity to entice the Aboriginals into wholesale genocide. The ostracization they would have faced for that act would surely have pushed them in our direction, and so, under our dominion.”
“And I warned, did I not, that the plan’s signal weakness was that I had to be physically present in order to obliquely encourage that genocide?”
“Yes, but—”
“By your leave, Autarch, my House will wish to inspect the transcripts of this exchange, and I humbly request that I may finish without interruption.”
Beren’s almost shuddering response indicated barely suppressed fury. “You—your request is…granted.”
“My thanks, Autarch. I warned, did I not, that being physically present amongst the Aboriginals would give them the time and opportunity to conduct detailed analysis of the suit and its components, even if only by external sensing?”
“I cannot, at this time, find mention of—”
“I asserted this on the third day of tactical planning, Autarch. Please consult the transcripts. It was one of my first objections.”
Beren paused.“Ah—yes, now I recall.”
“It is happy indeed, Autarch Tval Jerapthere, that your memory now compasses this instance. To conclude, I felt it likely that the Aboriginals would—through inspiration, thoroughness, or serendipity—discover that the environment suit was a deception. They did, and the outcome was as I predicted: they are now aware of our identity. Furthermore, they have shared it with one Arat Kur of the Ee’ar caste, who will no doubt share it with select members of his own, as well as the Hur, caste. There was also a Custodian present, so the Dornaani discord occasioned by their contending conjectures about our identity are now at an end, and so too is the concomitant drain on the surveillance and intelligence assets they have long dedicated to the matter. Furthermore, the Aboriginals now have full access to Arat Kur technology.”
Ulsor Tval Vasarkas’ declarative was shaded to suggest that the Autarch would brook no dispute on the matter. “That latter risk was deemed acceptable.”
“By the Autarchs, perhaps,” Shethkador replied carefully. “However, you may recall that I opined differently. The observable phenomenon of post-war rebuilding on Earth, in the face of the unresolved exosapient threat, was already arising when the Aboriginal fleet departed for its strike against Sigma Draconis. We may be sure that even now Earth is reverse-engineering key naval technologies: pseudo-singularity capacitors, navigation systems, field-effect generators, spinal-mounted X-ray lasers, high-yield pulse fusion thrusters, anti-matter production and retention systems. They will be manufacturing them within two years. In five years’ time, these technologies will be commonplace in the Aboriginal formations. In ten years’ time, they will be ubiquitous.”
Davros’ contact was unconcerned. “Let them do so. The economic impact of such rebuilding will cripple them.”
“On the contrary, Autarch. It will strengthen the Aboriginals by providing jobs in their market-driven economy and will make them both bolder and more canny opponents.”
Beren pushed back to the fore of the contact, and his shading was as reptile-cool as it was hostile. “Are you saying our plans were folly?”
Time to redirect the exchange.
“I would not risk my geneline by suggesting that the Autarchs could be so profoundly and singularly mistaken. Let us say that we are all still paying for the error of the rogue elements of House Perekmeres.”
Beren’s contact was as calm as his animus was clear. “It is always convenient to blame the dead, Srin Shethkador.”
“Perhaps, but it is never right—nor wise—to blame the Autarchs, Autarch. And is there any denying that House Perekmeres’ unapproved attempt to cripple Earth with an asteroid strike triggered this cascade of disastrous sequelae? Instead of eliminating the Aboriginals as a threat and resetting their cultural paradigms, the so-called Doomsday Rock alerted them to exosapience and interstellar travel and, thereby, accelerated the problem. Were not the lately failed war plans—hasty, forced, inelegant—simply the ineluctable offspring of the Perekmeres’s defiance of the Houses and the Autarchs?”
If Ulsor Tval Vasarkas’ comment had a subtext, Shethkador could not discern it: “You sound as if you would purge the Perekmeres’ again, if it were possible.”
“I laud the thoroughness of their Extirpation, even down to the fetuses in the EndoWombs. I would have gladly assisted, had I been asked.”
This time, Ulsor’s contact trod a line between assertion and irony. “Your reputation for dutiful service remains impeccable, Srin Shethkador.”
“I would best serve the core values of the Creche worlds if my perspicacity enjoyed equal confidence among the Autarchs.”
Ulsor’s response was quick and sharp. “Is this insolence, Srin Shethkador?”
“This is simple fact, esteemed Autarch. Did I not fear this outcome? Did I not predict its disastrous progress?”
“You did. So how do we know that you have not had a hand in creating that failure to enhance your reputation for foresightfulness?”
“Let us assume, as your hypothesis must, that I have lost all loyalty to the Ktoran Sphere. Even so, the scheme you suggest would still be folly for me and my geneline. There is more glory to be had, more fame to be acquired, more improvement of my gene-rating to be enjoyed in acquiring victory, than there is in having been sadly correct in my foresight. Will I be draped in the enemy’s skins because I predicted this failure? No. But I might very well have worn that mantle of the flayed remains of our foes had I been able to send word that Earth would soon come under our power. No, esteemed Autarch: though I may be proven right by these events, it is no victory for me.”
Tlerek could almost see Ulsor’s nod across the dozens of light years. “Well said. And better still, it is as you say.”
Shethkador could feel the strength borrowed from the expended Catalysite’s protoplasm beginning to wane rapidly, like a star tucking behind the terminator line of a swiftly rotating world.
And not a moment too soon: these walking corpses would remonstrate and share their dubious wisdom for hours, given the chance…
Kromn Tval Shethkador’s contact reached out across the light years briefly but sharply. “Your signal fades, Tlerek Srin Shethkador. You proceed with our trust in your judgment.”
There was a pulse of approval from Ruurun, followed shortly thereafter by Ulsor’s clipped, “Your perspicacity does not go unappreciated, young Shethkador.” But the emphasis upon “young,” and the absence of praise for other characteristics, was not lost on Tlerek.
He resolved to dominate what was left of the contact with pointless pleasantries, so that none of the Autarchs could utter any last-second directives that might restrict his actions. “I am gratified to represent the Ktoran Sphere in this place, and to attend to the voices of the Autarchs. I shall make further report as I determine whether it is best to reposition
Ferocious Monolith
so that it seems to have commenced its homeward journey as instructed by the Custodians, or to fabricate a pretext to remain and gather further data.”
Tlerek Srin Shethkador waited for a response. There was none—and his sense of the universe as a vast membrane comprised of touch-sensitive cells was gone. In its place was the narrow reality contained within the scope of his senses and an annoying sense of diminishment.
Shethkador was up off the cushions as soon as he became aware of the first tinge of melancholia: down that path lay overuse of, even addiction to, the artificial surges of the Reifying power enabled by the Catalysites. Of course, the Catalysites themselves were not the enemy: they were utterly insensate. The foe was the Symbiot itself, seducing with the temporarily actualized promise of fabulous power—power which came at the cost of one’s self. Which was why the Ktoran reflex for dominion was all-important, not merely because it fueled the will to control all other species and planets, but to maintain control over oneself. Resolving not to rub at the painful welt on his index finger, where the caustic fluids of the Catalysite had surged greedily into his bloodstream, Shethkador exited the Sensorium.
Olsirkos was there. Two guards were present also, but hanging well back, out of earshot. “Fearsome Srin,” Olsirkos began, “if you should wish to first take some repose in the—”
“I have need of information, not rest. It is also necessary that I make an appearance on the bridge. Attend me.”
Because,
as the ancient axiom has it, “one cannot assert one’s dominion in one’s absence.”
Without checking to see if Olsirkos was at his heels—for it was the ’vah’s life if he was not—Tlerek Srin Shethkador made swiftly for the bridge.