The Only Game in the Galaxy (9 page)

They all waited in silence. The colonel adjusted the retinal uploader and tapped in some information.

Several moments later, lists of data and complex analysis appeared in longer vertical columns on a large plasma screen. They rapidly compiled, then a single brief series of code appeared.

Anneke recognised it immediately and sat back with a soft gasp.

‘Well?’ said Fat Fraddo from the viewscreen.

‘Double that,’ said Arvakur.

‘Yeah,’ said Alisk. ‘Where are the damned things?’

Anneke looked around again. ‘Arachnor,’ she said. ‘The final coordinates are on Arachnor.’

‘Well, that’s just frickin’ great, that is,’ said Fraddo.

The meeting continued but no one discussed Arachnor or the challenges it would present. It was relegated to a later talk by silent mutual consent.

Sasume and Bodanis wanted Anneke to enlist directly in their battle against Brown, but she pointed out that her affiliation with RIM, and her own personal feelings, meant she could not become involved in a mercantile struggle which was about profit.

Bodanis slammed his fist on the table. ‘Believe me, Anneke, if Brown gets the old weapon caches and an endless supply of dreadnoughts, the issue will be about more than profit!’

Anneke was unfazed. ‘We are fellow travellers, Bodanis. Our aim is the same, even if we have different methods. Let it rest at that.’

After much grumbling and arguing, they agreed to disagree, while pursuing the same objective: the termination of Brown’s venture – and if possible, Brown with it.

Anneke did not voice her feeling that if Sasume and Bodanis got their hands on the old weapons caches, not only would they cease to be partners, but the rest of the galaxy might still be menaced, though with more gentility and velvet-glove diplomacy than under Brown.

Bodanis got an urgent
n-space
call. He listened through his earpiece, his left eye twitching. Finally he removed the earpiece. ‘I’ll … ah … put this on speaker.’

He tapped a tab. ‘Please proceed,’ he said.

A deep resonant voice echoed from the speakerphone. Anneke recognised it immediately. It was a Sentinel and, if she wasn’t mistaken, the same one she had spoken to on Kanto Kantoris.

‘I seek audience with Anneke Longshadow.’

‘I am present,’ Anneke said. ‘I am Ekizer.’

‘I am happy to speak with you again, Eki –’

The Sentinel cut her off. ‘Humans will never truly understand time. Nevertheless, it is – as you say –
running out
.’

Anneke looked startled. ‘We’re listening.’

‘As my voice reaches you, Anneke Longshadow, Nathaniel Brown takes ship for the lonely moon of Omega in orbit about Gamma Pavonis. What he intends there will have dire consequences. If you are to ward off an unspeakable crime, then you must go at once. To tarry would be to incur unbearable guilt …’ There was a stricken, sad quality to Ekizer’s voice that chilled Anneke. ‘I must go.’

‘Ekizer, wait! I need more information. What will Brown do on Omega?’

‘The unpardonable.’

The connection was severed. Anneke looked around at the others. No one spoke. Slowly, she got to her feet, looking across at Bodanis.

‘I need your fastest ship,’ she said.

The ship was fast but still, for Anneke’s purposes, agonisingly slow. The Sentinel did not exaggerate, did not embroider. But Ekizer had spoken of unconscionable acts. Anneke could not imagine what they could be.

What was Brown up to?

They were two days out from Gamma Pavonis’ moon and by long-range sensor had calculated that Brown would arrive thirty-two hours before they did.

To fill the time and use up nervous energy, she trained and retrained the combat team Bodanis had loaned her – a crack unit of seasoned veterans with a phlegmatic, no-nonsense attitude. She warmed to them immediately. The unit’s leader was a man named Karkov. He had the look and feel of old leather, what Uncle Viktus called the ‘unkillable type’.

Alisk joined her in all the training sessions, having insisted on coming along, despite Lotang’s disapproval.

‘He’s not the only one who can get himself killed,’ she muttered late one night when the two women were alone in the cramped quarters they shared.

‘You love him a lot, don’t you?’ Anneke asked. She had never been in love, though since starting this journey she had had unaccountable flashes, like waking dreams, of herself and Arvakur strolling hand in hand through a garden of trailing vines and exotic flowers. Each time the ‘flash’ stopped just as they were about to kiss.

Alisk’s face twisted with pain and happiness, in equal parts. She muttered under her breath and nodded. After a while she looked up.

‘And you? Is there someone special?’ There was a slightly mocking, though good-natured, quality to her voice.

‘Maybe.’

‘Is he handsome? And tall? And dark-haired?’

‘Maybe.’

‘With a smile that makes you want to smile back? Though it’s a pity about his ears.’

‘What?’ said Anneke hotly. ‘What about his ears? What are you saying?’

Alisk gave her a look of innocence. ‘Excuse me? I thought we were speaking hypothetically.’

‘Hypothetically my rear end! And just for your information, I
like
his ears.’

‘He is kind of cute. But me, I like the bad boy thing.’

‘Well, Lob Lotang’s definitely cornered that market.’

They both laughed.

‘Pity they’re not that bright,’ said Alisk. And they laughed again.

They reached Omega on schedule, led by Brown’s tiny armada of ships which had just reached orbit, having apparently spent time searching for the small moon.

‘Put them up on screen,’ said Anneke. ‘Have they detected us yet?’

The silent colonel from the meeting in the Fortress shook his head. ‘Cloaked, Status Alpha.’

‘Good. Let’s find out as much as we can before showing our hand. In the meantime, I want Tactical to assess the best attack route with maximum direct and collateral damage. If we go in, we go in blasting, take out as many ships as we can. Understood?’

Karkov and the colonel nodded and bent to their tasks.

Alisk stood beside Anneke and both stared at the screen.

‘What’s he up to?’ Anneke wondered aloud.

Karkov looked up. ‘Just picked up an energy signature. Jump-gate. Looks like it’s on a grabbing mission!’

Anneke frowned. ‘They beamed somebody up from the surface.’ Ekizer’s words echoed in her head. ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this. We’re not going to wait for more data. Whatever Brown has come here to achieve, that process has already begun, and we have to stop it.’

She hit a button, setting off battle station alarms throughout the ship. To the colonel she said, ‘You have that attack vector?’ He nodded. ‘Okay, you have the helm and tactical. Karkov, Alisk, let’s lock and load!’

‘Aye aye, chief,’ said Karkov, grinning at the archaic expression.

The
Pulsaris
, Anneke’s ship, went in blasting. They took out three ships, hitting their drive cores and setting off chain reactions. Two more were damaged, unable to fire back at them.

Anneke, in a rare moment of flippancy, streamed a picture of her grinning face to the armada’s flagship. The
Pulsaris
sustained heavy broadsides almost immediately.
The penalty of hubris
, she thought as automatic shockers dampened the vibrations across the ship.

Over her suit radio, Anneke heard someone yell, ‘The drive is hit. I repeat, the drive is hit!’

‘Get us out of here,’ Anneke ordered over her suit radio. ‘Use planetary drive!’ She turned and addressed the crack combat unit lined up before her. ‘It’s show time, ladies and gentlemen. Follow me!’

She turned and ran full tilt into the active jump-gate, blaster at the ready.

B
ENTHOS
sat in the hermetically sealed cell, wringing his hands. He was tall, wiry and bearded, with little hair on his head. A religious miner from Omega, he had no idea why he was there.

‘Let me out,’ he called for the hundredth time. No one had spoken to him, no one had communicated at all. He’d been walking home from church with his clan and family, looking forward to a big noisy luncheon, as was the custom of the Omegans, and then he’d felt an awful wrenching sensation in his chest and head. He’d closed his eyes, sure he was having a dizzy spell, and when he’d opened them he was in a strange room and there were men with guns and others wearing lab coats. They sat him down and took his blood and placed it in the machines around him.

Then he was beamed aboard a ship. The people had not hurt him, but nor had they spoken. The lack of communication had hurt him more, as if he wasn’t worth talking to, wasn’t even human.

Or would soon be dead.

The thought crossed – and recrossed – Benthos’ mind. He did not fear death. His people believed in the Great Spirit that perpetually reincarnated its kindred. Whatever these people did to him, he would come back, maybe not on Omega, but elsewhere in this fine vast galaxy. Perhaps these people, in a way he could not fathom, were his kindred spirits. Perhaps together they would fulfil their destiny …

The ship rocked suddenly. Benthos heard a dull explosion, followed by a series of high-pitched whines. Pulse beams. He’d know that sound anywhere. The miners used modified pulse weapons for scouring the rich minerals from the ground, and once he had fought as part of a local militia when his country had been threatened. A battle long ago resolved.

Over the next forty minutes he heard more explosions, feeling odd vibrations in the deck plating, and hearing sirens blasting an alert.

We are under attack
, he thought.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
He wished his new friends well, whoever they might be.

All of a sudden, pain started in his joints and spread along every nerve pathway in his body, like liquid fire. Soon his muscles ached and cramped. He vomited copiously.

Benthos tried to stand, but his balance had gone. He groped out blindly to steady himself on the edge of a table.

‘What have you done to me?’ he demanded hoarsely.

And someone finally spoke to him.

‘You are the first in a great experiment. Calm yourself, brother.’ The word ‘brother’ sounded mocking, yet Benthos felt strangely soothed by it. He sat down again, folded his hands in his lap, and waited.

The Great Spirit would deliver him, he had no doubt.

From outside the lab, Maximus watched the experiment proceed, as he had numerous times before. The transmogrifying virus worked rapidly, once they had input the man’s DNA and blood.

The changes were internal, and though the man must have been experiencing considerable pain, he did not scream like the others, but sat composed almost, as if the pain meant nothing to him. Maximus gained a grudging respect for the miner. He doubted he would have met his own fate with as much equanimity – though he, unlike Benthos, knew what was coming.

Within the hour the transformation was almost complete and Maximus stared into the screen at the face of a monster staring back.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Very good.’ He turned to Bleaker, who had just arrived. The captain was staring at the creature on the screen, pale and silent. ‘Report.’

‘Sir, they’ve boarded the vessel, we’re not sure how. The shields are intact. We’ve managed to isolate them temporarily, but they are breaking out of the aft hold area and will soon be amidships.’

‘Hold them as long as you can, Captain.’

‘Of course, Admiral,’ said Bleaker hoarsely, avoiding looking at the screen as he turned to go.

‘And Captain?’ Bleaker stopped. ‘Tell the Envoy to launch the seed ships.’

Bleaker nodded, eyes down. Maximus smirked as the man hurried aft. You either had the stomach for greatness or you did not.

He lingered, watching the transformation of Benthos reach completion, then hurried to the bridge and watched the seed ships – modified escape pods, with their own internal navigation and propulsion systems – drop towards the planet.

Within minutes, seeding – across the tiny globe – had begun.

Damage reports flooded in. Maximus’ ship had taken serious punishment. Lengthy repairs would be needed before she could limp home. Not too serious, he reflected, as long as there was an intact vessel for him to transfer to when the time came. Though that was doubtful as Anneke’s ship, also wounded critically and leaking air, had accounted for three more of his vessels. Damn the woman, he was running out of spaceships.

The more pressing problem, though, was Anneke’s infiltrators. He could just abandon ship and blow this one to smithereens (though a similar ploy not too long ago hadn’t worked) or – no, he had a better idea. One almost poetic in justice.

Down on the surface of Omega, life went on as it always had. Luncheon break was over and workers drifted back to their jobs, enjoying the early spring sunshine. High overhead, the chlorine-atmosphere world of Gamma Pavonis, a rich source of precious minerals, hung in the sky.

On this day it was no longer alone. As workers from Benthos’ estate gazed upwards they saw a small black sphere, – a speck at first, which grew to the size of a playing ball – swoop out of the aquamarine sky and dart away eastwards, veering slightly so that it passed over the town itself.

‘Where are they now?’ Maximus asked.

‘Decks eight and nine, sir,’ said Bleaker. ‘They breached our main squad so the field sergeants regrouped on ten.’

Maximus studied the tactical display in front of him. ‘Prepare to abandon ship, Captain, but I want it kept hush-hush. No loudspeakers.’

‘And the field teams?’

‘Leave them in place. We’ll pull them out at the last minute.’

Bleaker looked unhappy but issued the orders.

‘Now I want you to ready the jump-gate and lock on to the attackers.’

‘All of them, sir?’

‘All of them. Oh, and lock onto the subject in the lab and return him to the surface – but not until seeding has fully commenced. We don’t want him damaging prospective recruits.’

‘Admiral, begging your pardon, but locking onto so many individuals will require a vast amount of power. I’m not sure the system is capable.’

‘It is if you remove the safety override on the hyper-drive and re-channel the power output to the jump-gate.’

Bleaker stared at him. ‘Sir, that would cause a cataclysmic explosion!’

‘Hence the reason we’re abandoning ship, Captain. There should be a grace period of several minutes before the drive reaches critical overload, during which we ourselves will transfer to the
Albatross
. Now please proceed. Contact me when you’re ready.’

‘And the destination for the transfer, Admiral?’

‘Omega, of course.’

‘Aye, aye, Admiral.’

Maximus went aft to his quarters, three decks above the fighting. He let himself in, gathered his personal possessions, then turned to find Anneke Longshadow holding a blaster on him.

He whistled. ‘You never cease to amaze.’

‘Thank you. You, on the other hand, were sloppy. No offence intended.’

‘None taken,’ said Maximus cheerily, though he was startled at being so easily caught off guard. Perhaps he was becoming too preoccupied with other matters. Or perhaps he was getting slow.

‘Sit down in that chair and tuck your hands under your thighs.’

Maximus smiled and complied. ‘Bit jumpy, aren’t we? And there I was thinking we were almost comrades.’

He watched her carefully. It was obvious that Anneke had her memory back, but he needed to know how much she recalled of the intervening period. She had not remarked that he was back in his renovated semi-permanent disguise as Nathaniel Brown, the default renovation he used everywhere except RIM.

‘You’re as delusional as ever, Brown.’

There. She had used his cover name. If she remembered his real identity she would have called him Black. Interesting. He wondered if there was a way to use this and if any of the neuronosis was still in place.

‘Now. What are you doing here? What’s happening down on Omega –?’

Maximus internal mike spoke in his ear. ‘Admiral, I’m detecting an intruder in your quarters,’ came Bleaker’s voice. ‘You may not be able to answer, but if you are in danger, please initiate a self-diagnostic.’

Maximus uttered the sub-vocal command initiating the program.

‘Very good, Admiral. We have a lock on the intruders. It took some time to analyse their personal shield harmonics, but we have pinpointed each of them. Shall I commence transfer? Please initiate another self-diagnostic.’

Maximus smiled at Anneke. The exchange had only taken a few seconds. From her perspective, he imagined she thought he was deciding how much to tell her.

‘Why don’t you go down and take a look for yourself?’ he said, setting off the program once again.

Anneke frowned. ‘That’s twice you’ve –’

Anneke disappeared. Maximus chortled but his mirth was cut short. Panic spread across his face as he too vanished from the room.

Maximus’ face was still etched with panic when he rematerialised, along with several of his men, including Captain Bleaker, in the middle of a dusty road covered with a thin layer of black tar. On either side rose two- and three-storey buildings, shops, and above them, looking like it might fall at any moment, the sharp green face of Gamma Pavonis.