The Prodigal Sun (6 page)

4

COEA Lander
M-3

‘954.10.30 EN

0775

Roche slammed back into the couch, the valise crushing her rib cage and forcing the air from her lungs. The roar of the thrusters threatened to split her eardrums. She wanted to turn her head to check on the others, but the acceleration would not allow her.

Thrust increased twofold for an instant, accompanied by a thunderous rattling on the hull. The lander slewed violently, as though flying through atmospheric turbulence.

Her mental voice was faint beneath the noise.

Midnight
’s shock wave, Morgan. I apologize for the bumpy ride, but it cannot be avoided.>

She forced herself to relax as much as she could, letting her abnormally heavy body roll with the vibrations and trying not to worry about damage to the lander’s hull. It was out of her hands entirely now. All she could do was hope that the Box knew what it was doing.

The voice of the AI was no different from normal, as though riding the envelope of a thermonuclear explosion was all in a day’s work.

Roche felt herself lift from the couch, her body pressing momentarily against the sudden tautness of the restraints. The rattling on the hull continued for a while before fading into silence. The occasional
tap-tap
of smaller thrusters came through the hull, changing the attitude of the lander slightly and making her stomach roll. A few minutes later she was weightless.

Her mind was heavy, however, with the knowledge of the carnage they had left behind.

said the Box.

Roche forced herself to think about the future.

She nodded. It was a sensible strategy, given the situation: with no anchor or slow-jump drive and only a small amount of fuel, their possible destinations were limited to Kanaga Station in orbit or Port Parvati on the surface. Their decision would depend on the Dato and the movements of the Marauder.

Roche loosened her restraint harness and massaged her aching muscles. The Box was right: had the
Midnight
exploded a minute sooner, they wouldn’t have made it.

“Except find a few answers, perhaps,” she muttered as she swung herself free of the chair, hooking the fingers of one hand around a grip to stabilize herself in the zero-g.

Cane watched unblinkingly from his seat at the copilot’s station as she swiveled in midair to face him.

“We survived,” he said. His natural smile reflected his calm disposition. Their abrupt departure didn’t appear to have affected him in any way. “Whoever it was that spoke to me in my cell was right: you have been able to help me.”

“So it would seem.” She sensed no dissembling in his face and posture—and his gratitude seemed genuine—but she still couldn’t afford to trust him. She knew too little to turn her back on him just yet.

She moved over to check on the Eckandi and the Surin, her movements within the cramped lander awkward and clumsy. A quick look confirmed her suspicions.

“Good. They won’t wake for a while.” She returned to her own couch and looked across at Cane. “I think it’s time we talked.”

“Whatever you want, Commander.”

“How much do you actually remember?”

“I told you: I woke up a few days ago on the ship with no memory beyond my name. Since then, apart from a few visits from the ship’s science officer, I’ve been left alone.”

“Do you know that you were picked up in a life-support capsule?”

“I was told that much, but little else.”

“They didn’t tell you how long you’d been drifting?”

“I did overhear something to the effect that it might have been a while,” he said. “But nothing was officially mentioned.”

“I don’t suppose you happened to ‘overhear’ anything else, did you?”

“Little. Why?”

“Because the science officer’s report was destroyed with the
Midnight
.” Along with any records of the conversation that had led him to her, she added to herself, rubbing a hand across tired eyes. The rush of adrenaline she had experienced over the last few hours had left her feeling more than a little exhausted. “Your recollections are all we have left to go on, I’m afraid.”

Cane raised an eyebrow. “Well, I know I was picked up near an anchor point leading here. Not by chance, either: the
Midnight
apparently detected a distress signal. Where the signal came from, however, is a mystery; the capsule had no transmitter, and the signal vanished once they picked up the capsule on scan.” He shrugged. “I can’t explain it, and neither could the science officer.”

Roche nodded, absorbing the information. “What else?”

“Not much. He wanted to know more about the way the capsule worked. I gather it contained a lot of equipment not normally required for any sort of emergency coma.”

“Such as?”

“Biofeedback systems, I believe, but I really don’t know.” He shook his head. “I have no memory at all of any time before the capsule. If there was any.”

Roche frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing.” A smile touched his lips but was gone a moment later. “It sometimes feels as though I was born inside the capsule,”

“If you were, then you’ve grown up quick; you can talk, think, and move like an adult.” And a very adept one at that, she thought to herself. She could see his potential in the way he held himself: constantly primed, ready to act, and yet, paradoxically, always at ease with his situation. The way he had carried himself in the lander bay had been more than impressive. An army of soldiers like Cane would be hard to stop. “Perhaps you were a combat soldier?”

“Maybe,” he said, but without conviction.

A groan from behind them made them both turn. Roche instinctively reached for her pistol, then saw it was the old Eckandi, struggling in his chair. He was little more than semiconscious, and she noted with approval that Cane had locked the harness tight—something she should have done herself. Still, she kept the pistol ready. If the Surin had been a reave, who knew what the Eckandi—the Surin had called him “Veden,” she recalled—would be.

Veden shook his head, opened his eyes. Taking in the interior of the lander with one quick glance, he turned to face Roche and Cane.

“Where—?” His voice was thin and accented faintly, but clear. His wide-pupiled eyes were startled, flitting between Roche and Cane, their movement beneath the fine milky film that was peculiar to the Eckandar Caste causing Roche some discomfort. “Where am I?”

“On the lander,” Roche replied. “Heading for Sciacca’s World.”

“The
Midnight
?” Without waiting for a reply he turned to the unconscious Surin strapped into the seat beside him. “Maii?” He made to move, then realized that he too was restrained. “What have you done to her?”

Roche watched with interest the concern on the Eckandi’s face. “She’ll be okay.”

“You know she’s a reave?” Roche nodded; Veden shook his head. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you managed to get past her.”

Nor can I,
Roche admitted to herself, but said: “We surprised you in the lander bay. Do you remember that?”

“I remember you shot me.” Thin but distinct muscles tightened around the Eckandi’s eyes. “I remember that much.”

“You fired upon us first,” said Cane.

“What else was I supposed to do? We had to get out of there. The ship was about to blow.”

“How could you have known that?” Using a hand-grip, Roche pulled herself forward slightly. “And how did you escape from your cell?”

“Maii—” He hesitated, glancing again at the Surin. “She was monitoring the guards when the Dato hit. She got one of them to open the cell and let us go. It’s considerably easier to manipulate people when they are panicked or confused, you see, so the attack on the
Midnight
was fortuitous in a way.” He shifted beneath his restraints. “After that it was a simple matter of getting to the lander bay. I’ve flown landers like this all my life; launching wouldn’t have been a problem.” He seemed about to say something further, but decided against it and fell silent.

“Sounds a bit too easy,” said Roche doubtfully. “If it was that simple to escape, then why didn’t you do it sooner? I mean, surely there would have been other times in other systems when the guards were vulnerable. Why wait until we’re at Sciacca’s World?”

“That’s none of your business.” His milky glare fixed on Roche for a few seconds before he turned away and faced Cane. “Who’s
he,
anyway?”

Cane met Veden’s unexpected hostility with a broad grin, the lights from the lander’s displays flashing in his steady eyes. “That would appear to be none of
your
business,” he said.

Veden’s gaze returned to Roche. “He’s working undercover for the Armada—for COE Intelligence—is that it? I don’t remember seeing him in the brig.” Roche ignored the question. “Whoever he is, he moves like one of those damned jarapines from Proebis-12.”

The Box’s voice sounded in her mind.

She was careful to subvocalize in front of the Eckandi.

Midnight
’s freight transcript.>

She returned her attention to Veden, regarding the Eckandi silently for a few moments before speaking. “So,” she said, “was it fraud, or outright robbery?”


His eyes widened. “I don’t know what you mean.”


“The code violation. You must be more stupid than you look to mess with the Commerce Artel.”


“If you say so, Commander.” He dismissed her accusation with a flick of his head. If he was surprised by her knowledge of his history, he showed no sign of it. There was more than just a hint of contempt in his crooked smile. “Who am I to question an Armada officer?”


Their eyes locked for thirty seconds or so before he finally looked away, his smile fading beneath a sigh. “At least we’re alive,” he said, closing his eyes and lying back into the chair. “That’s all that matters right now.”


“For you, maybe,” Roche muttered. “What matters to me is that I’m stuck with you for at least another five hours.” She watched the Eckandi closely for a reaction, but there was none. With the typical arrogance of his Caste, he had decided to terminate the conversation. For all intents and purposes, he had totally closed himself off, and Roche knew that further questioning would be useless for the time being. Maybe, she hoped, things would change when the Surin awoke.


To Cane she said: “I’m going to check out the lander, see what we’ve got in the way of supplies. Can I rely on you to keep an eye on him?”


Cane nodded. “Of course.”


“If the reave tries anything when she wakes, knock her out again.” The words elicited no response from the supine Eckandi. “We’re some way from safety, and I don’t want anything else to go wrong.”


“Understood.” He folded his arms as she left the cockpit. When she returned five minutes later to check on him, he hadn’t moved a muscle.
A perfect sentry
, she thought. Almost too good, in fact.


She didn’t smile as she returned to the storeroom. “That’s a luxury I can’t afford at the moment,” she said, more to herself than to the Box.


* * *


Four hours later, a voice roused her from a deep slumber she couldn’t remember entering:


Her head jerked up, and the sudden movement sent her drifting across the room. More by chance than anything else, she managed to catch hold of a stanchion and bring herself to a halt. A rush of panic subsided when her eyes adjusted to the dim light of her surroundings and she realized where she was: the lander’s storeroom. She had come in to check on what equipment was available to them, but the low lights coupled with her exhaustion had seduced her into sleep. Not, however, before she had ascertained how little in the way of supplies they actually had: two medical kits, three basic communicators, six survival suits, and enough food to last them two days—five if rationed severely. The only weapons on board were Veden’s laser and her own pistol.


The voice was sterner this time, cutting through her tired thoughts.


Roche rubbed her eyes, shook her head. “Yes, Box,” she said. “I’m awake. How long have I been out?”


“Oh? What?”


She shook her head one last time to clear it of the residue of sleep, then pushed herself toward the door. It slid aside with a hiss, and she slipped out into the narrow accessway. The only other room in the lander, a privacy and waste cubicle opposite the storeroom, was sealed, occupied. Sparing it but a glance, she brushed past it and into the cockpit.


Cane had moved to a position by the main entrance. The Surin lay with her back to Roche, still strapped into the central couch. The only movement as she entered the room came from Cane’s eyes, which glanced at her before returning to the reave.