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Authors: Sean Williams,Shane Dix

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #Space Opera

The Prodigal Sun (31 page)

BOOK: The Prodigal Sun
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“What’s happening—?” She looked down in annoyance, wrenching her limbs impotently within the suit. No matter what she did, however, the suit remained completely lifeless. “I’m trapped!”

She looked up again in time to see Cane draw back his fist. Her eyes widened in horror as she flinched and tried to turn away—but the motion was futile. Unable to move her body, there was no way she could avoid the blow.

It connected solidly on her burned temple. Light exploded behind her eyes, blinding her; then three distinct sounds chased her into darkness:

—the snarl of the shuttle as it swooped level with the roof—

—the solid thump of her armored body striking the platform beneath her—

—and the voice of Cane, barely audible over the noise of the shuttle, muttering a single, sickening word. “
Exactly
.”

PART FOUR:
ANA VEREINE

17

DBMP
Ana Vereine

‘954.10.34 EN

1805

Despite the calm appearance of his image, Captain Uri Kajic was a worried man.

Six hours had passed since the last communication with the Port Parvati landing party, in which Major Gyori had indicated that he was preparing to ambush Roche and the rebels as they attacked the landing field. Since then, nothing had been heard from anyone. All surface communications had been jammed from the landing field’s MiCom installation. Kajic, watching closely from geosynchronous orbit, had waited in the grip of an intense anxiety for an update, his thoughts constantly nagged by reminders of his priorities. As fighting had erupted on the surface of Sciacca’s World, smoke from numerous fires burning in and around the city had effectively masked infrared surveillance, and a poorly timed dust storm had compounded the problem by smothering visual light and radar. Whatever was going on in the landing field’s MiCom installation, he could not guess. For all he knew, the battle might have ended hours ago.

Stranded in his skybound eyrie, he could do little but wait, consumed by doubts, recriminations, and half-spoken fears.

priority gold-one

“Second Lieutenant Nisov reports that her squad is ready to launch.” Makaev had abandoned the pretense that Kajic’s hologram was a real person. She remained in her position, next to the command dais, speaking to him solely via the nearest microphone.

Kajic’s image nodded in acknowledgment. The plan to send another landing party into the maelstrom had not been his, but he was forced to admit that it made sense. Even a low reconnaissance flight would do more good than ill. “Have her stand by, awaiting my command.”
 

“Sir; a delay at this point—”

“Will make little difference,” Kajic interrupted irritably. “I wish to give Major Gyori one more chance to report.”

capture Commander Roche and AI JW111101000

“This seems unlikely, sir, as the interference from the planet has not lessened since—”

Kajic shrugged this aside. “While we are being jammed, we know that the battle is continuing. I see no reason to send reinforcements just yet.”

Makaev’s scowl deepened. “Then perhaps we should reconsider disabling the DAOC transmitter station.”

“Why? Has there been another coded hyperspace transmission?”

“No, but—”

“Then your reasons for wishing it disabled are unclear.”

at all costs

“It’s a
threat
, sir. If the Armada has not already been informed of our presence here—”

“Even if they have, they will arrive too late. Destroying the satellite will have repercussions further-reaching than our present situation. We have already left too much evidence that might implicate us.”

with as much stealth and speed as possible

“Sir, I wish you would reconsider—”

priority gold-one

“Enough!” Kajic shouted at the voices tormenting him. “I am in command of this vessel, and if I say we should wait, then that’s exactly what we will do!”

Makaev’s face darkened, anger boiling beneath its surface. “Yes... sir.”

Kajic noted the woman’s insolent tone, the contemptuous hesitation before the honorific was finally granted, but he refrained from commenting. Traitor or loyal servant? If he pushed much harder, he might soon find out which.

priority gold-one

The telemetry officer intruded softly. “Captain...?”

Kajic turned to face her. “Yes? Report!”

“We are registering a transmission from the surface,” she said, tasting her lips nervously. “A precise fix is impossible through the interference, sir, but it does seem to be coming from the landing field transponders. And... it’s directed at us.”

Kajic paused momentarily. “What sort of transmission?”

“Presently unknown, sir. We are detecting only a carrier wave.”

“Let me know when the source of the transmission and its contents are confirmed. It may be Major Gyori attempting to report.”

“Sir.” The officer returned to her station, her face a mask of concentration. Kajic glanced at Makaev, but his second was busy relaying his previous orders. Accurately, he hoped.

priority /

/ gold-one

Suddenly, people were staring at him. Half the bridge crew had swiveled in their combat harnesses to focus on the command dais.

“Atalia,” he said, perplexed. “What’s going on?”

“You... disappeared, sir.” Kajic’s second stared at him openly from her station. “We tried to call you, but you didn’t answer.”

Kajic sent a self-diagnostic probe through his circuitry and systems. A millisecond later it returned: all clear. “There has been no malfunction.”

“But you—” Makaev stopped, swallowed. “For an instant there your persona just
ceased
.”

“That’s impossible,” Kajic snapped, feeling panic stirring in his mind. “I sensed no discontinuity.”

“Are you certain?”

“Of course I am!” Despite his denial, Kajic’s uncertainty manifested itself as anger, under which loomed a growing fear that maybe stress was causing a malfunction in his circuitry.

priority gold-one

“Just let me
think
.” He said this aloud, wanting to silence the voice in his head, although he immediately regretted it. His behavior had provoked a look of concern from a number of the faces around the bridge, and he knew he couldn’t afford to have them doubt his competency at this vital stage of the mission.

Trying to reestablish a sense of control and thus regain the confidence of his crew, Kajic casually folded his arms behind his back and addressed Makaev in a smooth and calm manner.

“The transmission,” he said. “Has its source been identified?”

“No, sir.” Although most of the crew slowly returned to their duties, Makaev’s worried frown remained. She wasn’t fooled by his attempt to resume proceedings as though nothing had happened. “Analysis concluded that it was probably a spurious echo of our own transmissions,” she said. “There has still been no word from Major Gyori.”

This last part was spoken a little smugly, Kajic thought, but he refused to rise to the bait. “Nevertheless,” he said. “We will wait a little longer. Five minutes more, then we will assume that Major Gyori has failed.”

Kajic kept his image on the bridge overlooking the crew, trying desperately to maintain an even composure and not submit to the anxiety that increased with each passing second. The truth was, he suspected that Makaev was right: if he waited too long to send backup, the opportunity might be lost forever. Should he trust his own judgment in the aftermath of what had apparently happened to him? Was he malfunctioning in some unanticipated, subtle way, without being aware of it himself?

If so, then there was only one way to find out.

Two minutes passed. Then three. Fifty seconds before the deadline, telemetry spoke again:

“Sir—we are registering a launch!”

Kajic turned to face the screen. “Elaborate,” he said. “I want all available data.”

A map of the region appeared. “One craft, rising through the dust above the landing field,” said the officer. A flashing red dot appeared on the screen. “A surface-to-orbit vehicle—probably one of our own, judging by its emissions. No communication as yet.”

“They are still too close to the source of the interference,” Kajic said. “It must be Gyori. Given the traffic ban, only one of our own would be so bold as to launch unannounced.”

“It could be a ruse, sir,” Makaev cautioned.

“I am aware of that possibility.” Kajic remained pensive for a few moments before speaking. “Instruct
Paladin
and
Galloglass
to intercept before it reaches orbit, just in case.”

“Sir.” She turned away to relay the orders.

Kajic watched the screen closely. The red dot rose higher, curving slowly to reach orbit. Green dots marked the two raiders as they dropped to meet it, swooping like aerial hunters with claws extended upon some lone and silent prey. Then:

“Ident confirmed,” said telemetry, swiveling around to face the captain. “It
is
the shuttle, sir.”

“But still no communication?”

“No, sir. There has been...” She paused, pressing at the communication bud in her ear. “Wait,” she said, leaning over her console to concentrate. “Something’s coming through now.” Another pause. “They are requesting permission to dock.”


Who,
exactly?” asked Makaev, the suspicion clearly evident in her tone.

Kajic also thought he detected a brief expression of annoyance flicker across her face. Had her plans to subvert him been foiled, or was he just imagining things?

“He has identified himself as Sergeant Komazec.” Silence as telemetry once again listened. “He says that there have been many casualties—Major Gyori included. It seems that—”

priority gold-one

“The
mission
,” Kajic snapped, silencing both the officer and the prompts from his programming. The deaths of Gyori and the others were regrettable, but irrelevant. “What is the status of their mission?”

Another unheard exchange between telemetry and the sergeant passed before: “They have the COE agent and the AI aboard, sir.”

Kajic did smile, then. “Permission to dock granted,” he said. “Atalia, notify the commanding officers of
Paladin, Galloglass,
and
Lansequenet
that we will be leaving in two hours.”

Makaev nodded once. “As you wish, sir.”

Yes, thought Kajic to himself, not caring for once who might be listening through his back door. Yes, I
do
wish. And this is your
captain
speaking...

* * *

The snub-nosed shuttle, trimmed and ready to dock, approached the grey bulk of the
Ana Vereine
, propelled by increasingly delicate nudges from its thrusters. As the orbits overlapped, the shuttle’s relative velocity decreased until it was practically stationary with respect to the larger ship. The last few meters passed most slowly of all, as the nose of the shuttle edged into a vacant gantry.

A muffled clang announced that contact had been made. The gantry’s manifold waldoes enfolded the shuttle in a gentle embrace and tugged it deeper into the mother ship, where cables waited like open-mouthed serpents to link it to the
Ana Vereine’s
life support. A gaping transit corridor groped for the airlock lip, clung tight, and pressurized. All that remained was the linking of computer systems; only after that would the shuttle truly be home.

Dato Bloc engineers called this final process “unscrambling the egg.” Kajic had watched many thousand such maneuvers from the cameras installed in the hangar’s ceiling, but never before with so much at stake.

On the contents of this particular egg rested not only his mission, but perhaps his very life.

“The shuttle has docked,” Makaev said from the bridge. “When its cargo has been unloaded and verified, we will be ready to leave.”

“Very good.” Kajic resisted the impulse to tell her that she was stating the obvious. Now that the crisis had passed, she was performing her duty as impeccably as ever. Perhaps—if she truly was the traitor—he had finally earned her trust. Either that, or she was simply biding her time...

The shuttle’s airlock, invisible within the transit corridor, opened with a hiss and distracted him from that train of thought. He moved to a camera within sight of the egress airlock and waited. Not long after, heavy footsteps tramped down the short corridor, and booted feet appeared. Two fully armored troopers led the way, their suits blackened and charred by battle. Two others followed close behind. Between the latter two hung a suspension stretcher, and on the stretcher lay—

Was
it her? Kajic hardly dared to believe his eyes. Could it really be...?

Of course it could. There was no mistaking that face, even partly burned and swollen. He had studied her files extensively over the last few days, so much so that her image was now imprinted upon his mind.

Lying unconscious on the stretcher was Commander Morgan Roche of COE Intelligence. Beside her, still connected to her wrist by a length of cord, was the valise. The AI.

He only half heard the brief radio communication between the landing party and the hangar techs. His thoughts were elsewhere, focused instead upon the blessed silence that now filled his mind. Suddenly, with his mission completed, the priorities had ceased their endless prompting. That alone made the success of his mission worthwhile. To be free of interference for a while; to be
himself.

Then, without warning, as though following on the heels of that very thought, came a new invasion, a new priority:

return at once to Szubetka Base

priority gold-one

The sense of elation sank as quickly as it had surfaced. Not until his hologram stood before the Ethnarch and the Military Presidium and he presented his report would they allow him to entertain any sense of achievement. Only then, perhaps, would he be free.

He watched after the unconscious commander with an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. There was still work to be done. Perhaps, he thought, returning his image to the bridge, there always would be.

* * *

“We are secured to break orbit, sir.”

return at once

Kajic nodded as he looked one last time at the picture of Sciacca’s World on display. “Do so,” he said tiredly.

Dissolving the hologram, Kajic swung his attention through the ship, performing a quick scan of the drive chambers, the matter-antimatter fuel mix, and astrogation’s plotted course. Beyond the metal shell of his surrogate body, the three raiders accompanying the
Ana Vereine
performed similar checks before leaving the system.

When the time came, four mighty engines fired, casting a false dawn over the facing hemisphere of Sciacca’s World. The Soul twinkled around them, then behind them, as they rose above the equatorial plane. In strict formation, the four ships swooped over the northern pole and its tiny patch of ice, angled down past the Soul again, then aimed toward the orange sun. The intrasystem thrusters flared to maximum power, the Soul flashed one last time, and then they were free of the planet’s gravity well.

BOOK: The Prodigal Sun
3.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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