Void Wraith (The Void Wraith Trilogy Book 2) (11 page)

"Fizgig is right," Nolan called, his deeper voice echoing from the chamber's high walls.

Fizgig fell silent, watching the kit appraisingly. He'd learned much under her tutelage, yet he was only human.

"Look around you," he continued. "That debris field is all that's left of a library that's been in this system for twenty-five millennia. We're losing this war so badly that we're not even fighting the real enemy. If we want to have any prayer of survival, then we must examine the situation tactically--not as separate races, but as a united coalition. That makes the war between humanity and the Tigris the most pressing issue. However, that doesn't mean we shouldn't explore other matters. Learning about our enemy is nearly as critical as stopping the war."

The human relaxed on his throne, watching Celendra. Fizgig continued to study him, waiting to see how the Primo would react. She knew nothing about their species, and the best way to learn about a foe was to watch, quietly. They'd reveal a weakness, and then, if circumstances dictated that they be eliminated, it was a simple matter to do so.

"If my people were to join a coalition, it would take months to set it up," Celendra said, giving a regretful sigh. "That simply isn't possible. I am the Voice and can speak for my vessel, at least. What would you have us do? I do not know the best way to proceed."

"First, you need a military leader," Fizgig said, without hesitation. "Strength flows from leadership. Without a strong leader, we are doomed."

"And who would you nominate for this position?" Celendra asked, cautiously.

"Mighty Fizgig!" Khar roared, raising his arms in an attempt to get others to take up the cry. Izzy did, but both fell quiet at a gesture from Fizgig.

"You introduced Dryker as a captain, did you not?" Fizgig asked, staring unblinkingly at the Primo.

"I did," Celendra answered, cocking her head to the side. "I do not understand the significance of the question."

"What is Dryker the captain of? He has no ship, unless you're telling me he's the captain of this vessel," Fizgig asked, her tail beginning to swish. She enjoyed baiting others, especially the Primo. They styled themselves superior, and it pleased her to educate this one.
 

"He is not the captain of the
First Light
. We do not have...captains. A Voice is merely a conduit for the will of the people," Celendra explained, clearly confused.

"Yet you are following the commands of Dryker, are you not?" Fizgig asked, another leading question.

"We are. Fizgig, I must admit that your questions are...irksome. What does any of this have to do with our current circumstances?" Celendra said. Fizgig wouldn't have called her angry, exactly. But she was clearly getting there. Good. Let her feel a tenth of the rage boiling in Fizgig.

"Among the humans, they have a rank that describes the position you've assigned Dryker," Fizgig said, purring softly.

"She wants to promote me to Admiral," Dryker called, eyeing Fizgig reproachfully. "Stop toying with her, Fizgig. We need their cooperation, and antagonizing them only makes the situation worse."

"I...see," Celendra said, regaining a measure of her composure. "Very well, we will promote Dryker to Admiral, if this title will help in some way."

"It isn't the title," Fizgig said, eyes narrowing to slits. "It is the authority that goes with it. Dryker must be freed to deal with the war as he sees fit."

"And what will you be doing during all this? You're just as qualified to run the fleet. More so, I think," Dryker said.

Fizgig met his gaze. He was one of the few humans she considered a true equal. One of the few among any species, truth be told. "There is only one way the Tigris would have gone to war as we did," she said, growling low in her throat. "Admiral Mow must have lied to them. If they believed that humans had wiped out our fleet, they'd have raced to war. That means that Admiral Mow has almost certainly been corrupted by these Void Wraith. I intend to challenge him for leadership."

"You'll need a vessel to do that, Mighty Fizgig," Khar pointed out, nodding deferentially as he spoke. "The
Claw of Tigrana
still fights. We can get you to Mow."

"And what of us, Admiral Dryker? What would you have us do?" Celendra asked.

Dryker was silent for a long time, gaining another pawfull of respect. He took his time answering, even under the weight of the conclave's attention. "Fizgig can deal with her people. I need to deal with mine. There's every likelihood that the majority of the admiralty is now corrupt, but we can still gain support with the 14
th
 
fleet. We'll start there."

"Before we make these decisions, there's a lot we need to share about the Void Wraith origins," Nolan said. He hesitated, but only for a moment. Fizgig watched as his mind worked, piecing together what she'd already realized. "You already considered that, didn't you?"

"I did," Dryker said, nodding. "The sad fact is that we don't know who we can trust. We will discuss your findings in private, and I'll make a decision about how to proceed."

"Will my people be represented in this meeting?" Celendra asked, leaning forward to study Dryker intently. A sheen of milky sweat had broken out on her forehead, the first Fizgig had ever seen on a Primo.
 

"If you'd like to be represented," Dryker said, "we'll hold the meeting on the
Claw of Tigrana
."

Fizgig was pleased. She'd maneuvered Dryker into a role she detested, freeing her to tear out Mow's throat.

Chapter 27- Feeding The Eye

"You're certain of these coordinates?" Delta asked, scanning the data pad. He looked up at Doctor Reid. The man's pallid flesh was nearly see through, like fine paper.

"Of course I'm certain. Just fly the ship," the doctor said, his entire body shaking as he took a threatening step toward Delta. He reminded Delta of a chihuahua. "I haven't had to use your chip in some time. Do you need a reminder, is that it?"

"No, sir," Delta said, shaking his head fervently. He hated how he reacted to the threat like a whipped dog, but he was the first to admit that the chip had broken his will. Just thinking about the pain nearly caused him to curl into a fetal position. "I just worry for your safety. The coordinates you gave me are less than a light year from a supermassive black hole. The system is marked as hazardous."

"I'm quite aware of that," the doctor said, waving a hand dismissively. "Get us there. Now."

Delta nodded, moving up the narrow hallway to the cockpit. He was aware of Reid sitting down next to Kathryn, who'd been increasingly silent since their run-in with Nolan. He wondered how much of the woman remained, and how she felt about betraying a man she'd obviously had feelings for. Delta didn't have much feeling for her one way or the other, but at the very least they were both doing this against their will. That gave them a little common ground.

"Do it, Epsilon," Delta said to the man in the pilot's chair. Well,
man
was a loose term. After the fiasco with Nolan on Coronas 6, Reid had given Delta a new crew, but these new cyber Marines didn't even have names. They might as well have been robots, for all the initiative they showed.
 

"Yes, sir," Epsilon said mechanically. He had a soldier's buzzcut and a UFC tattoo on his arm. Those were the only clues to the man he'd once been; the rest had been replaced by machinery. Even the man's eyes had been replaced, and Delta knew better than anyone how dehumanizing that was.

The ship rumbled briefly, then began rising through the star's core. This part always bothered Delta. He hated knowing they were under so much pressure, and that if anything failed in the ship's inductive field they'd be incinerated instantly. It made the next several minutes torturous, and he didn't breathe easily again until they'd finally reached the sun's corona.

Massive towers of blue flame rose in pillars all around them, but they were far taller than those on other stars. They stretched hundreds of thousands of miles into the distance, toward a patch of black covering much of the sky. It was like an open wound, completely devoid of stars. The areas around it were rich with twinkling lights, underscoring the darkness.

"This poor star is doomed," Reid said, from right behind Delta. Delta was more than a little surprised he'd not heard the man approaching. "It wandered too close. The black hole's gravity is pulling matter from the sun. We can't see, but the matter is joining a giant accretion disk, the largest in the galaxy. It orbits the black hole, you see. Because the disk is comprised of dark matter, we didn't even know it existed until we explored this system."

Delta nodded, as if that were the most interesting thing he'd ever heard. "Epsilon, make for the coordinates."

The ship's perspective changed, and the viewport showed a different patch of space. It wasn't empty, as there was some sort of planetary body there--a moon, perhaps. It wasn't large enough to be a planet, unless it was further away than he thought. A trickle of ships passed to and from the moon, most of them human, though he saw a few Tigris vessels as well. Those ships had something in common, something that terrified him: they weren't warships. They were cargo vessels and transports.

What the hell were they dropping off?

Delta watched silently, a sense of foreboding growing in the cockpit as they approached the planetoid. The closer they got, the shorter his breaths came. Delta knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his death lay within that planet. It took everything he had not to bolt from the bridge and hide in his bunk.

Part of his mind recognized that the feeling was unnatural, though he had no idea what was causing it. Whatever it was didn't seem to affect Reid, though Epsilon cringed away from the view screen, giving a low whine as he did.

"The Eye," Reid breathed, pushing past Delta and dropping into the
Sparhawk
's co-pilot seat. He caressed the view screen where the planetoid was, crooning to it. "At long last, I meet the emissary. I can feel you, hear the whispers. I am home."

The word
horror
could not adequately describe the mix of revulsion and terror that washed through Delta. The object was large enough to make out now. The closer they got, the larger it loomed. It wasn't a planet, though it was roughly spherical. Its surface was milky white, with red veiny sections criss-crossing the surface. An enormous, ropy tail, something like entrails, floated behind the thing. It tapered off into the darkness, writhing slightly as if in an unseen wind.

That wasn't the worst of it, though. The front of the planetoid had an enormous black iris, dilating like a continent-sized whirlpool. Around that iris was a blood-red sea, the thing's cornea. Delta had believed he'd lost the capacity for either wonder or fear, but in that moment he realized how painfully mistaken he'd been. This thing terrified him in a primal way, the kind that aroused fears of the dark in toddlers.

Delta had to look away, so he looked at the pilot's console. It didn't help. If anything, it made the situation worse. The readings were standard for an M-class world. Whatever that thing was, it had a habitable atmosphere.

"Sir, another vessel," Epsilon said, his voice cracking.

Delta saw a flash of metallic blue rising from the monstrous surface. The Primo carrier was clearly headed for the sun, and would just as clearly pass a short distance away from them. "Doctor, how do you want us to proceed?"

"Ignore it," Reid said, waving dismissively. "They are merely feeding the Eye, as are the other vessels. Our mission is far more important."

Delta stared hard at the Eye, and he realized something. Until now, he'd given up. He'd worked blindly for Reid, because he feared the pain. But this...
thing
changed the situation. Whatever it was, Delta believed it could consume the entire human race. Maybe even the Tigris, too.
 

He didn't know how. He didn't know when. But he was going to find a way to stop that thing.

Chapter 28- What Now?

Nolan shifted uncomfortably on his throne, listening to Dryker and Fizgig hash out details. His comm began to vibrate. He ignored it. It vibrated more urgently, so he fished it from his pocket and thumbed on the screen.

"Captain," Ship's cheerful voice said. "I apologize for interrupting you, but Lena said you'd wish to know this immediately."

"Know what?" Nolan asked.

"We've detected Void Wraith signatures lurking in the sun's corona. It is unlikely the Primo would be able to detect them, and I suspect it is the prelude to an attack," Ship explained.
 

"Stand by," Nolan told Ship. He looked up, pressing the amplifier icon on the throne's right arm. "Everyone listen up." His voice thundered through the room, reverberating off the walls like thunder.
 

"My ship is picking up Void Wraith drive signatures," Nolan continued, pushing the button to make the throne descend. "We're about to be attacked."

"Our sensors have detected nothing," Celendra said, cocking her head. "Are you certain?"

The others were bringing their thrones back to the dais as well, though the Primo didn't seem to share Nolan's alarm. Nolan leapt from the throne a few feet before it reached the deck, landing in a crouch.

"I'm positive. If you want to live, get your forces into a battle formation. I'm getting back to my ship," Nolan said, turning toward the corridor they'd entered through.

"Nolan, wait," Dryker said, grabbing his arm. "You need a Primo library right?"

"Yeah," Nolan said, nodding.
 

Dryker pressed a data cube into his hand. "This has the location of all eight remaining libraries. I suspect they could be under attack as we speak, so you need to be quick. The one at Derinia is the most heavily defended. You might start there."

"Thank you, sir," Nolan said, giving Dryker a tight nod.

"Now get your ass moving. I need to get these Primo ready to fight," Dryker said, turning from Nolan and moving toward Celendra.

"Nolan," Fizgig said. Her tail swished dangerously behind her. "A word."