The Prodigal Sun (32 page)

Their course would take them around the sun, past the smallish gas giant on the far side, and out to the system’s nearest anchor point. When they reached that point, in three days’ time, they would depart the Hutton-Luu System forever.

return to Szubetka Base

Four hours into their journey, when he was certain that everything was proceeding according to plan, Kajic focused his attention on internal matters. More specifically, on Sergeant Komazec’s report of events that had transpired on Sciacca’s World.

The ambush at the landing field had been a disaster due in part to the fact that Major Gyori had attempted to capture Roche without the assistance of the local Enforcers. Despite being severely outnumbered, Roche’s strike force had successfully penetrated the MiCom building and taken control of the installation. How she had accomplished this, exactly, was something of a mystery, although it seemed that she had allied herself with at least one powerful epsense adept whose powers gave her a significant tactical advantage.

Once inside the building, she had used the AI to assume control of the MiCom installation. But instead of sending a message requesting assistance from the Armada, she had broadcast a plea on behalf of the local rebels. Why, Kajic could only guess. Perhaps she had owed it to the rebels who had helped her, been obliged to aid them in their cause before they would let her complete her own mission—which, thankfully, she had been unable to do.

Under pressure from Dato troopers within the building, she and her allies had been forced to the roof. Two Enforcement flyers commandeered by Major Gyori’s squad had harried her from the air while Enforcement used mortars to weaken their position from below.

But still Roche had not given up. One of the flyers—the one containing Major Gyori—had been damaged in the battle. And somehow she had taken remote control of the landing party’s shuttle, possibly to seek refuge in the transmitter station orbiting the planet.

It was at this point that luck had turned in favor of Sergeant Komazec, who had assumed command of the landing party following Major Gyori’s untimely death.

Weakened by casualties of their own—and the neutralization of their reave—Roche’s band had turned against her. Knowing that escape from the planet was impossible with the Dato ships enforcing the blockade, and that any defense of the landing field was temporary at best, they had overpowered her and attempted to negotiate. Speaking from inside the shuttle, one of them had coordinated a meeting between the landing party and the rebels, the intention being to exchange Roche for safe passage.

The meeting had taken place on the roof of the DAOC Administration building. Sergeant Komazec had agreed to everything. The ultimate fate of the rebels—and, indeed, DAOC Enforcement itself, a one-time ally—was irrelevant. The AI and its courier were all that mattered.

Roche, unconscious and injured, was brought out of the shuttle, with the AI, and handed over to the soldiers of the Dato Bloc.

Once Roche was safe, Komazec had opened fire upon the rebels and regained control of the shuttle. He had left no survivors. Not one. Such ruthlessness might once have appalled Kajic, but now, with his priorities burning so effectively into his conscience, he felt only indifference. All that mattered was that the AI and Roche
had
been successfully returned to him. His mission had been accomplished.

He directed his attention to Roche in the sick bay holding cells. She was still unconscious, still attached to the AI. The stolen combat suit had been removed, and the burns on her scalp, face, and neck were undergoing treatment, as were minor injuries to her ribs, shoulder, and hip; apart from that, she had been left in peace. Until they were certain how deep the link between her and the AI extended, the
Ana Vereine’s
surgeons would not dare sever it from her.

In less than a week she would be a captive of the Presidium, an unwilling accomplice in the ongoing state of tension existing between the Dato Bloc and Commonwealth governments. She would become a traitor of the worst kind, one whose involuntary betrayal meant the deaths of friends, family, and colleagues.

This saddened him, obscurely. She had no choice in the matter—an impotence he could empathize with. It would have been better for her if she had died on Sciacca’s World. That way, her mission would only have failed, not been perverted to her enemies’ ends.

He looked forward to the opportunity of meeting her properly, when he could speak to her face to face, one soldier to another. She had been a worthy adversary throughout his assignment...

return to Szubetka Base

As he scanned through Komazec’s report one final time, he noticed a minor item in the inventory that he had missed earlier. The body of an elderly Eckandi male, apparently killed during the attack, had also been returned to the
Ana Vereine.
His exact identity was unknown, but, from what little the rebels had said when handing over Roche, Komazec had received the impression that it had been the Eckandi who had arranged the message to the COE High Equity Court. Possibly he was a clandestine member of the Commerce Artel; not unlikely, given his citizenship in the Eckandar Trade Axis. The body, with its distinctive flash burns from a Dato weapon, had been recovered as a precaution to divert the powerful Artel’s wrath.

Kajic had to admire Komazec’s quick thinking. Such a move had been entirely in accordance with his own orders. Second only to success, stealth had been the important thing. And, while the mission might not have gone as well as he had hoped, at least he could say that nothing had been overlooked. His crew had acted without fault, which would reflect well upon his command.

Yet how near defeat had been: the panicky moments before Komazec’s return; the interminable waiting, the lack of information; then the apparent malfunction of his own systems, and Makaev’s almost open defiance. A few minutes longer...

But now, with Roche safely aboard the ship and the remains of the penal colony receding into the distance, those moments were irrelevant. The end result was all that mattered.

Twenty-eight hours away from the penal colony, he arranged for the body of the Eckandi to be placed in cold storage, performed one last check of his ship, then resigned his higher functions to oblivion.

Sleep, he mused to himself as darkness slowly fell. The one true reward after battle.

* * *

He dreamed—

... of voices he could almost hear, faces he could almost see, people who almost existed...

... of chains binding him tightly, binding his nonexistent body, holding him firmly while some terrible threat approached, against which he could not move to defend himself...

... of things forgotten, things not noticed, things he should have attended to...

... of his home planet, which, from above, appeared as a woman’s face, a once faceless woman whose features were even now strangely blurred...

... of details too small to focus on in a picture too large to comprehend...

... of a person, another face, a voice calling him—

“Captain? Can you hear me, Captain?” Filled with a premonitory dread, Kajic awoke with a mental jerk.

A few seconds later, the voice spoke again: “
Captain?
”

“Atalia?” Slowly the sleep-numbed layers of his mind peeled away. An image of his second in command appeared, staring directly into a camera, directly at
him,
concern pressing at her features. “What is it? What’s happened?”

“Nothing, sir,” she said, the words belying the look on her face. “I just need to speak to you in private.”

In private? Kajic echoed in his thoughts. Then her news couldn’t be urgent. The ship must be safe. The relief, after the ominous dreams, was almost overwhelming. “Very well,” he said.

She turned away from the camera and took a seat while Kajic gathered his thoughts, mentally sweeping his mind clean of the detritus of the dream. More hints, more unconscious suggestions—he was sure of it—but they would have to wait until later. Taking a moment to access the events he had missed while his higher centers were sleeping, he realized that they were fifty-two hours from Sciacca’s World, just over two-thirds of the way. He had slept for almost an entire day.

Remarkable though that was, he didn’t let it bother him. With their departure proceeding smoothly and a major campaign behind them, it was unsurprising that he needed rest.

A few seconds elapsed before he formed his hologram in the command module where Makaev sat waiting. She stood instantly to attention, then relaxed when he waved her at ease.

“I assume this has nothing to do with the ship,” he said after she had returned to her seat.

“Not exactly, sir, no.” Makaev sighed, shifting uneasily. “It’s the crew. They are restless—nervous.”

“Of what?”

Makaev paused, as though what she was about to say pained her. “Of... ghosts, sir.”

Before he could respond, she quickly added, “I know what you’re about to say, Captain, and believe me, I thought the same thing myself. But in the last six hours I’ve received three separate reports and heard rumors of several more. The sightings are all confined to the lower decks, to maintenance areas and cold stores. The witnesses have all been single crew members performing unscheduled duties. The encounters were all brief, comprising little more than a glimpse of another person—who instantly vanished.”

“What about security?” said Kajic thoughtfully.

“No trace has been found on any of the recordings. Even in the three cases where we’ve had exact times and locations, nothing out of the ordinary has been seen.”

Kajic mulled this over for a moment. “The obvious possibility is that we have unwittingly taken aboard a stowaway or two. Transportees, or some of the rebels perhaps...?”

“My thoughts exactly, sir,” said Makaev. “After the second report, I contacted Sergeant Komazec. He assured me that there was no possible way anyone could have smuggled themselves onto the shuttle. The only other bodies aboard, apart from crew, were Roche and the Eckandi. One of those is dead, and the other hasn’t even regained consciousness.

“Furthermore, I have also checked with the main computer. No stores are missing; we are showing no extra mass and no unexpected demands on life support. And every one of the crew can be accounted for, which rules out the possibility of substitution. If what we have here
is
a stowaway, then it might as well be a ghost.”

“Nevertheless,” said Kajic. “The fact remains that the crew is restless. Correct?”

Makaev nodded. “And the more word spreads, the worse it becomes.”

Kajic regarded her steadily for a few moments, biting back irritation. “Well, the only thing we can do about it at this stage is to step up security, to make sure every area below deck is watched at all times. If we do have some sort of stowaway, ghost or otherwise, it’s bound to appear eventually.”

“Which is why I’ve come to you.” Makaev paused and leaned forward. “As suggested by yourself, the crew is now on soft duties following our mission. I am reluctant to give them more work at the moment, not until we’re at least out of the system. Yet we have to do
something
now. Let the rumors continue unchecked, and the
Ana Vereine
runs the risk of—”

“Enough,” Kajic cut in. He could see where she was headed. “You want me to conduct the security sweeps?”

“It seems logical, sir. You are more vigilant than any single member of the crew, and you have direct access to the required systems. In fact, they’re integral to you.” She hesitated, as though suddenly realizing something. “Of course, that’s if you’re up to it, sir. I mean, it has been a difficult week...”

Kajic was glad for once that he didn’t have a physical body to betray his autonomic responses—otherwise a flush of rage would have turned his face a deep, bright red. How dare she? Did she think him stupid? If he agreed to conduct the surveillance of the ship, then he
was
placing himself under unnecessary stress and perhaps risking a potential breakdown—but if he said no, then he would be admitting weakness at a time when he couldn’t afford to do so.

Her blatant attempt at manipulation was clumsy, to say the least—so much so that it might feasibly, and perversely, have been entirely innocent.

Either way, he had no choice.

“For the sake of the crew’s peace of mind,” he said, “I think your suggestion a sensible one. I shall begin immediately.”

She sighed with apparent satisfaction and stood. “Thank you, sir. I’ll see that you have all the information immediately. The sooner the rumors are quashed, the better.”

He nodded, agreeing with that, at least. Although he denied the existence of either ghosts or stowaways, the very act of looking would undoubtedly reassure everyone in the lower decks. And when he turned up nothing, and no more sightings were reported, the
Ana Vereine
could return to normal.

Yet the feeling of dread that had remained with him after awakening only intensified as he accepted the data from Makaev and examined it carefully.
Had
something gone wrong? Something that he had overlooked or simply not anticipated? With victory so close, he couldn’t afford to discount that possibility.

The Box had been handed to him on a plate once already, and Roche had snatched it away, again and again, until he had almost begun to despair at his inability to outwit her. She had eluded his forces on the
Midnight
, in space, through the wilds of Sciacca’s World and, finally, in the streets of Port Parvati. Neither the DAOC Enforcers nor the Dato landing party had been able to locate her, until the very end—and even then, she had almost eluded them once again.

Was it so unbelievable that she might do so again?

Only with the sternest mental effort was he able to smother that doubt before it found purchase in his thoughts.

He commenced the search of the lower decks.

After the first hour, he realized that he had something to be grateful for. The sweep kept him occupied, when otherwise he might have drifted aimlessly through the ship, agonizing over his future. The ship could monitor itself; if anything untoward happened, either the automatic systems in his hindbrain or Makaev herself would notify him immediately. By being occupied, he was spared the uncertainty and given an opportunity to do something constructive.