War Against the White Knights (21 page)

She tried to smile. “How is Xin taking… taking what Tawfiq did to you?”

“She visits me every day. In person.” The synthesized speech was unable to convey fatigue, but Arun’s words came ever so slowly, and the strain showed as he struggled to form his sentences. “I like to see her face,” his words said, “but her mind is not with me. Her mind is with Tawfiq. Revenge.”

“I hope you both manage to come to terms with your injuries, and not just for your personal sakes. I need Xin, and on top of her game. We may be taking the Imperial capital sooner than we thought.”

Arun said nothing, but Indiya could see the frustration carved into his features, cutting through the recovery gel, and into her heart. His last act as commander-in-chief of the Human Legion had been to transfer his authority to Indiya, until such time as he might recover. He had fought so hard to get here, but the last battle would be fought without him.

Indiya squared her shoulders and got to the point. “Arun, what do you know about rival factions within the Night Hummers?”

Arun narrowed his eyes. “Nothing. All of them at all times have talked as if they are a single distributed entity. We know they can communicate instantly with each other across any distance, so the idea of a single group entity sounded feasible. Like the Trogs with their colonies. But we can’t trust anything they say, let alone anything they imply.”

Arun’s eyes flickered and then closed. Acting on a sudden impulse, Indiya steeled herself and positioned herself further up on the pod and looked down. Cups attached to cables gripped the stubs of his thighs. His legs had already been amputated above the knee, and the surgeons were discussing whether even more of his shattered body would have to be cut away.

She sucked at her lower lip and sent calming hormones through her bloodstream. “Thank you,” she said. “You’ve been a great help. Rest now.”

“Indiya…” His words came through the speaker, but his eyes were closed and his lips did not move. “The Hummers… Are they telling you they are divided?”

“Yes.”

“If I had to stake my life, I would say they are lying.”

“Understood. Now, rest. You’ve passed command authority to me, so that’s…” Arun’s med-diagnostics showed he was already asleep. “That’s an order,” she finished in a whisper.

Her gaze rested on his face, chained their by memories that made it difficult to pull away. The recovery pod was essentially a variant on the cryopod she had placed him inside when they first met. Their lives then had been harsh, and the life expectancy of the young Marine being sent to the frontier was measured in hours. They both knew that, and yet their youth convinced them that they – perhaps not that they were immortal, but that their deaths were inconceivable, and above all, they imagined their lives branched ahead of them. That they had options.

That’s just maudlin twaddle
, she told herself.
I might have been young, but I never really had a youth. I’ve never had time.

And talking of time, she had to be in CIC because in a few minutes, Hood’s X-Boat flight would reach the location Tawfiq had given them.

“Thank you,” she whispered to Arun, before hurrying away to CIC, and the next stage of Tawfiq’s torment.

“Where is Number 106?” said Tawfiq, peering into the camera.

Hood’s X-Boat expedition had found an FTL comm-link, pre-configured for video transmission – all part of the Hardit’s game. There had been a message instructing the Legion on who was to attend the video conference from their side: Indiya, Del-Marie, Xin Lee, Tremayne, Arun, and a Sergeant Majanita who had briefly been one of Tawfiq’s slaves back on Tranquility.

“Number 106?” Indiya brought up a list of the slave numbers Tawfiq had assigned long ago. “You mean General McEwan? He’s injured.”

“Good. I do hope the wounds I inflicted do not heal. I had intended to kill him but he looked in such pain that I could not bring myself to end it. You may allow yourself to feel relief, human, because I shall not ask you to beg. I require only that you ask me the right question.”

“Why, Tawfiq?”

All three of the Hardit’s eyes narrowed to points of concentrated hate. “Not good enough. Again, with more respect.”

“Why, Supreme Commander?” asked Del-Marie.

Indiya’s guts churned at his servile attitude. The ambassador had a stronger stomach than her.

Tawfiq peered at Del. “You are the human designated Del-Marie Sandure. You were at Tranquility.”

“I was,” he admitted.

“Your master, Number 106… He no longer trusts you, does he?”

“Trust is a relative thing.”

Tawfiq’s lips quivered into a sneer. “Spoken like a diplomat, not that your ability to bend words will help your cause. Number 106 does not trust you because he has seen you before. Remember, I have seen his private communications. I know many things about your friend that he has kept from you.”

“Why should seeing me before mean that I have lost his trust? Of course he has seen me. We served together.”

“You
served together
on the
Bonaventure
.”

Even Del hesitated for a moment, trying to decipher Tawfiq’s intent. “Yes, we were both there.”

“Both?” Tawfiq flashed the fangs in her long snout. “Your words amuse. Both! You were there
twice
.”

“I do not understand.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do. But I think your Supreme Admiral does. Ask her for her recording of the purple-eyed strangers. Of the Amilxi.”

Indiya froze in shock. She hadn’t thought about that recording for years. How the hell did this monkey know of its existence? An icy sensation crept up her neck and she looked to either side. Tremayne and Xin were finally united – in their fury at her.

“May we have the key now?” asked Del-Marie in a carefree manner, as if Tawfiq’s words held no power.

“No. Not yet. First you must ask me why.”

“Why do you wish to give us the key to unlock the enemy defenses?”

“Because I wish you to batter yourselves against the more physical defenses of your enemy. So that when you come after me, you will be so weakened that your destruction at the hands of my Hardit armies will be effortless. We could have destroyed you in the vicinity of Euphrates, but I accept that the cost in Hardit blood would be steep. You are not worth that cost.”

“We might be weakened,” said Indiya, “but we will be strong enough to kill you, and tear your New Order into history.”

“I shall be waiting. You will find me.”

“May we have the key now, please?” asked Del.

“Not quite yet. You may not ask, but Number 109 and 114 may do so together.”

Tremayne and Majanita tensed as they steeled themselves for what Indiya had ordered them to do. A bruised pride was not worth the loss of a single Legion life.

“Follow your orders, Marine,” barked Majanita.

Tremayne gave a half-smile and the two of them asked together. “Mistress Tawfiq-Woomer Calix, please give us the code.”

The Hardit blew through her lips and raise her ears high. They were signs of approval.

“Ah, Number 114. You used to be called Springer, back when you were in favor with your master. You have visions, do you not?”

“I do.”

“Well, here is your answer. What I want
you
to hear. I harness the foreseers – what you call the Hummers – and that means I have visions too. Like you they are not merely fantasies but a perception of the future. However, in the future I see, we Hardits win our freedom, a galaxy free from the corruption of all other species. Not even servitor races shall be permitted. Once all non-Hardits have been eradicated, we shall be free at last. That is my vision. And if you lift the barrier protecting the moon then my vision will strengthen because it becomes even more likely. That is why I give you this key. Because it makes more likely those futures where humans are extinct. Enjoy that thought.”

The conference room seemed to spin, and Indiya had to grab hold of a recessed bulkhead handle to steady herself. So much made sense now, little clues pounding at her head to punish her for her stupidity. Arun was wrong. She was sure of it. Not only did the Hummers have factions, but one was backing the Hardits. The goal of freeing themselves from the White Knights was the same, but this faction had chosen a different proxy to fight their wars. Even if the Legion took the Imperial capital, would that be only the opening act in a larger war?

Indiya realized she was curled into a ball, retching. She looked up into the faces of Xin and Tremayne. There was no sympathy there.

Del-Marie cleared his throat. “Admiral,” he said “The video conference has ended. Tawfiq sent us the code while you were… inconvenienced. I took the liberty of passing it on to the data security team, who will pass a sanitized version to the waiting analysts.”

“What did that monkey bitch mean, Indiya?” exploded Xin. Tremayne looked too angry to speak. “Purple-eyed strangers? Amilxi? And Sandure has a frakking double? Explain! We need to know.”

“First we try this code,” Indiya replied. “Then I will explain everything.”

“Primary team away, Admiral. Secondary team on standby at insertion point beta.”

“Thank you, Captain,” she replied, checking that Captain Locus-Heart’s transport was leaving the insertion point.

From
Holy Retribution’s
CIC, Indiya had commanded fleets of hundreds of ships housing millions of souls. Today’s operation was tiny in comparison, but no less important. The transports were modified fuel dredgers, designed to skim the outer regions of gas giants and collect the raw materials from its atmosphere for use as fuel. Taking the place of Marines – who would deploy out of a troop transport within seconds – were Night Hummers, freed from the life-support tanks and blown out of the fuel dredger’s hold by air cannons. For all its farcical features this was a raid – an attempt to reprogram Athena’s barrier generator – and an aggressive raid too, because the Hummers told her to expect resistance. The Hummer commandos – she couldn’t help but think of them that way – had the might of the Legion fleet to back them up.

She thought of clouds of orange blobs descending through the buffeting winds that were the truth behind the beautiful russet and rust cloud bands of Euphrates. She tried to sharpen the image in her mind because picturing her team, the Hummers had assured her, was the equivalent of pinging their comm link.

And it worked. They were there now, in her mind: uncaring, cold, and utterly alien.

“Are you on course?” she asked.

“We are safe and making our descent. We have met resistance already.”

“You expected resistance. Do you need our assistance?”

“We did not expect resistance so soon. It is a show of disapproval, but not more serious as of yet.”

“We have a flotilla of missile destroyers with nukes armed and ready for your signal.”

“Tell your soldiers to wait,” said the Hummers in her mind. “We are in the thermosphere – the atmosphere too hot and too thin for a confrontation here. If we need your assistance, it won’t be for days yet, not until we have acclimatized to pressures at the ocean depths.”

Indiya shuddered at the alienness of the Hummers. Littoranes, Jotuns, the other races she dealt with had evolved in the thin film of rich organics smeared over planetary surfaces. The Hummers were different. They were true planet dwellers: they lived
inside
the planet. They didn’t expect to meet the upper boundary of the barrier controller until they had descended through oceans of liquid hydrogen where the pressure was tens of millions of times greater than
Holy Retribution’s
CIC.

“But you will win any confrontation,” she said. “You told me the battle inside Euphrates had been foreseen long ago, events channeled long before my birth so that your success in the here and now would be guaranteed.”

“The future is never guaranteed, human Indiya, only probable or improbable. The battle must still be fought.”

“Battle? You said nothing of a battle, you spoke of a ritual disagreement, in which our nukes…”

But the Hummers had already left her mind.
Our nukes were only meant to be symbols of power
.

——

The ‘battle’ inside Euphrates turned out to be the Night Hummer equivalent of pushing and shoving, rivals who disapproved of the pro-Legion Hummers using their bodies to form a physical barrier, daring the strange commandos to pierce their equivalent of flesh in order to push through, deeper into the planet. Body parts were lost on both sides – which Indiya could understand – and talk of life force being diminished, which she didn’t know how literally to take. Progress was behind schedule but the pro-Legion Raiders had made it down to a depth of nearly two million atmospheres.

Nor was Euphrates the only place dominated by acrimony. Aboard the flagships of the Human Legion, Lieutenant-General Lee with allies amongst the Jotuns and X-Boat commanders, argued against placing the future of the Legion, and all it stood for, in the hands of the Hummers. Indiya saw how desperate the situation was, but there was no other choice. And with the solid backing of Admiral Kreippil and the Littoranes – who were still the main source of ship manufacture production – Indiya faced down this challenge.

The wellspring of bitterness in this debate floated in his recovery pod, oblivious to what was happening. Arun McEwan would never have placed so much trust in the Night Hummers. That was Xin Lee’s argument, and Indiya agreed with her, which was why she had left strict instructions that Arun was not to be told or consulted. McEwan was to be isolated from events until he was ready to retake command.

Indiya told herself she was keeping Arun in the dark for his own sake, to speed his recovery. That was not how Xin saw it. Indiya had made a relentless enemy there.

It was as she lay awake in her quarters, in what was supposed to be her sleep period, that Indiya felt an itching on the inside of her skull. The itch became a burn, as if the inside of her braincase had been filled with acid. She gritted her teeth, and rode out the pain, knowing its source, and knowing it should prove temporary.