The Crucible Page 30

  As Quinn angled towards his next target, the bang of a cannon shell rocked him in his seat as it tore into the Spitfire’s rear fuselage. Messerschmitt! He pulled the control yoke hard left until it juddered, threatening to stall, then half rolled the aircraft onto its back. As it began to dive, he rolled it upright again and scoured the skies for the other fighter, but it was gone. Climbing slowly, he executed a series of tight turns. Where are you?

  In the real world, the Shasallah was being targeted by a smaller, faster ship. Was it Damise or Agantzane… or maybe one of the converted vessels? Free of the constrictions of the AI, the reactions of its crew would match ships in the Free Alliance.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of wingtip and banked hard right, narrowly avoiding another burst of cannon fire. Turning sharply just as the Messerschmitt began to dive, he angled towards his opponent and stabbed the fire button, peppering its tail section. The Messerschmitt wavered before steepening its dive.

  Quinn coaxed the Spitfire into a shallow dive, keeping the sun on his right as he closed on his quarry. The Messerschmitt’s course wobbled once more. He eased the control yoke forward until the other fighter straddled his reflector gunsight.

  The Messerschmitt banked hard right. He pursued it until it strayed into his gunsight once more, then he fired a sustained burst. The Messerschmitt exploded in a sheet of flame.

  He raised a gloved hand to cover his eyes. When he lowered it, he was back aboard the Shasallah, seated at one of the forward consoles.

  The remaining AI ships parted like a curtain, and the wedge broke into a region of empty space.

  “We’re through!” someone cried.

  ~

  Syn-moon’s voice cut through the celebrations. “Find the Damise and Agantzane ships. I want their coordinates now!”

  “Sector two by four by nine,” Grey said. “Adjusting tactical.”

  The display shifted, showing a set of yellow icons.

  “Two hundred forty-four AI-reinforced invincibles. We have a further one hundred thirty-three ships at three by five by eight—Damise, Agantzane, and a variety of other configurations.”

  “Please dismiss the remaining Fixed Race ships with my grateful thanks. They are welcome to assist in the reconverted ships’ recovery. Let me speak to the Shades.”

  The display flickered, and the star field was replaced by the inside of a Nemazi dart. A spare-boned creature in one of the upper rear seats stared up at her.

  “Target and destroy all invincibles,” she commanded.

  “Razokah sothak nahazi!” the Nemazi growled.

  “I would look upon the face of my enemy,” Quinn translated under his breath.

  The display switched to an external view. The Shade craft moved off, shimmered, and were gone.

  Silence descended in the Shasallah’s control area. Quinn listened to his own breathing. We’re alone now. I hope Syn-moon knows what she’s doing.

  “Mashara,” Syn-moon said.

  “Yes, Commander,” a Kimn female responded.

  “What is our weapons status?”

  “Zahar and chuthah launchers are empty. We still have a full complement of ka-horeth.”

  “How many?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  All eyes fixed on Syn-moon.

  “Mashara, please target the nearest twenty-seven Damise vessels in sector three by five by eight and prepare to launch ka-horeth.”

  “What?” the Badhati asked.

  “Mashara, please carry out my instructions.”

  The Badhati loomed over her. “Even if we’re successful, that will still leave over two hundred of their ships intact, and we will be all but defenceless.”

  “Ka-horeth primed,” Mashara reported. “Targets acquired.”

  “Launch!” Syn-moon cried.

  ~

  Twenty-seven orbs hurtled across space, their dark surfaces split by cracks of light like glowing coals. Ka-horeth. Conceived by Vil-gar, they combined the energy-sink properties of the zahar with the latent power of the chuthah to create an initial implosion that intensified the explosive power of the device by an order of magnitude, each one more than enough to pulverise one of the larger Damise vessels.

  A swarm of zahars arced towards the ka-horeth, fizzed, and were swallowed on contact. The ka-horeth crackled with white and purple lightning as they barrelled on towards their targets. With a blinding flash, a region of space lit up with the power of a small sun before fading to darkness.

  Shock and awe. Quinn understood the tactic. But would it work?

  “Two ships on an intercept course,” Grey announced.

  Syn-moon leaned on the table. “Damise?”

  “Negative.”

  “Are they AI controlled?”

  “I detect no trace of the AI. One is of Agantzane design. The other is Badhati.”

  The Badhati at the central table stiffened. “I know nothing of this.”

  Syn-moon raised a palm. “No one here accuses you, Hakazi.”

  “Both are small scout craft,” Grey said.

  “A peace delegation, perhaps?” Mashara suggested.

  “Incoming signal,” one of the Kimn said. “Main screen.”

  The stars faded and were replaced by Ximun’s head and shoulders. His massive central eye scanned the control centre’s occupants. Quinn ground his knuckles into his palm.

  “Quinn. Somehow, I am not surprised to see you. You have only confirmed what my study of humans has shown, that humans are the most remarkable species the Consensus has ever encountered. Such a pity that you now face destruction.”

  Quinn glanced at Syn-moon. With a flick of her eyes, she ceded the floor to him.

  Taking care to appear unhurried, he took up a position before the screen. “The time for games is over, Ximun.”

  “You are right. There should be no more games between us. I have scanned your weapon bays. You are defenceless. In moments, you will be expired, as will the crew of this ship, who followed you on this fool’s errand.”

  Quinn took a lingering look at the Shasallah’s worn-out crew before turning back to the screen. “I’ll make a deal with you. Allow this vessel and its crew to leave peacefully, and I’ll come with you.”

  Syn-moon called out behind him, “Quinn, no!”

  He raised a restraining hand.

  “Interesting,” Ximun said. “You would sacrifice yourself to save these… nonhumans?”

  “They are my friends.”

  “They are nothing! I offer you something far better. Join us.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Our alliance has sent me to make you the greatest offer that has or will ever be made to anyone of your race. Join us.”

  “What possible reason would I have for joining you?”

  “Because we both want the same thing, peace for our respective worlds. I offer a three-way partnership: the Damise, the Agantzane, and the people of Earth. You will be installed as Earth’s absolute ruler. Together, we will secure peace on all the respective worlds under our domain.”

  “I see. And will you use the Damise’s AI to bend everyone to your will?”

  “As ruler of Earth, you will have complete discretion as to the method used for imposing order. The Damise are interested only in the maintenance of order in the cosmos. They will not interfere as long as stability is maintained.”

  “And what of the Consensus?”

  “The Consensus will fall under Agantzane jurisdiction. We will provide our guidance as we have for hundreds of years, leaving the Damise free to pursue their wider goals of universal harmony.

  “Right now, Earth and its dependent worlds are technologically backward and vulnerable to conquest. Our alliance will secure your people’s long-term future. We will advance human knowledge a hundred years and more, eliminating hunger, disease, and the pollutants poisoning your atmosphere, water, and soil. Your people will hail you as the greatest human who ever lived. All you have to do is say yes.”

/>   “Will you allow the Shasallah and its crew to depart?”

  Ximun leaned forward so that his bloated eye filled the screen. “They will pay the price of all who oppose the Agantzane.”

  Quinn squared his shoulders. “I’m afraid that’s unacceptable.”

  “Then perhaps I can persuade you.”

  Ximun’s image rippled and vanished. The air in front of Quinn congealed, and the three-eyed creature reappeared in front of him.

  “Hold!” Sun-moon cried as the Shasallah’s crew went for their sidearms.

  Quinn folded his arms. “You’re wasting your time. Nothing you say will persuade me to abandon this ship or my son.”

  Ximun’s upper and lower mouths made a sound that resembled laughter. “You still believe he’s your son?”

  “He is my son. And I will defend him from the likes of you.”

  “Interesting.” Ximun scanned the Shasallah’s control area as though checking he had everyone’s attention before turning back to Quinn. “That’s a fascinating weapon you’re carrying. Primitive but effective. Would you let me see it?”

  Quinn’s fingers twitched. He fought to restrain his hand, but it moved as if it had acquired a life of its own. He unslung the bow and held it out for inspection.

  “Ah yes,” Ximun said. “That should do nicely. You see, I’ve studied your actions and the history of your people, and the one characteristic that has impressed me above all else is human ingenuity. Yet you made one fatal mistake. Can you load one of those shafts, please?”

  Quinn’s face was a mask of frustration as he drew an arrow and watched himself nock it.

  “Good,” Ximun went on. “Do you remember when you were on the Haven? You had Zothan remove Conor’s reanimate device, insert it in your own cortex, and reactivate it so that you could help Vyasa spy on the Damise. Now draw back the weapon.”

  Quinn pulled back the arrow.

  “Well done. You see, the device gives me complete control of your actions. I had hoped you would cooperate, which would have made this demonstration unnecessary. Aim the weapon at Conor, please.”

  Quinn ground his teeth and raised the bow. Gasps and growls sounded from behind him. He stared into Conor’s wide, disbelieving eyes and saw Sarah, his wife.

  “Kill him,” Ximun said.

  ~

  Quinn’s hand shook, and his fingers were slick against the bowstring. His biceps knotted.

  “I told you to kill Conor,” Ximun said. “Do it now.”

  The command clanged in Quinn’s head like a gong.

  “He’s not even your son—you know that,” Ximun said. “He’s a reanimate. A fake. Something cooked up in a laboratory. Time to stop living the lie. Kill him and be done with it!”

  Pressure built within Quinn. He was a dam, cracked… leaking…

  The dam burst. He loosed the arrow just as a huge weight barrelled into him, knocking him sideways. He landed in a heap with Syn-moon on top of him.

  Quinn disentangled himself and staggered over to Conor. The boy lay motionless, eyes closed, with the arrow sheathed in his upper body. A red stain spread from the wound. Quinn fell to his knees, his face contorted.

  “He’s finished,” Ximun said. “Now, come with me, Quinn. Your destiny awaits.”

  Syn-moon drew a needle-pointed sidearm and aimed it at Ximun’s head. “You’re not taking him. Now, get off this ship.”

  Ximun’s mouths rippled. “A shame. Perhaps we will find another human with the wisdom and foresight to embrace our proposal. I bid you farewell. I don’t think we will meet again. To-shar!” The display shifted to show a hooded figure. “You’ll recall To-shar of the Badhati. Trained by the AI, he is one of a growing number who have made the transition.”

  “Ximun,” To-shar said, “how may I serve the Alliance?”

  “This vessel and its crew have rejected the way of order and the path of one plus one equals two. Please do what must be done.”

  “At once, Ximun.” He glanced off screen. “Power to maximum. Initiate ramming speed.”

  ~

  Syn-moon fired her weapon, but Ximun’s form was already dissolving. She yelled towards the control table, “Engines to full reverse!”

  Crew dashed for cover, but there was nowhere to run. Quinn cradled Conor in his arms until Kah-lar pushed him aside.

  She ran a flickering device over the site of the wound. “He’s alive, but he won’t be for long. Blood loss is critical.”

  “Impact is imminent!” someone cried.

  The ships collided, and Quinn went flying. His shoulder struck the floor, and he rolled onto his back. The deck lay at a crazy angle, and a pair of Kimn floated in the air. Gravity net is failing.

  He crawled over to Conor’s supine form. Kah-lar had cut a section from his tunic and slapped a white substance over the wound site that moulded itself to his shape. The arrow was still embedded in his chest like an accusation.

  Kah-lar gripped Quinn’s shoulder, and their eyes met. “Get him to an escape capsule. Cryogenic systems will stem the blood loss.”

  As Quinn cradled Conor in his arms, the screen changed to a stellar backdrop. A beetle-shaped vessel swooped in on Ximun’s ship and unleashed a volley of chuthahs. Ximun’s ship broke apart and was enveloped by a blinding flash. The screen shifted once more, showing an image of winged Vyasa.

  “He’s gone,” she called. “I’m sorry. I was too late to prevent the attack on your vessel. The Free Alliance has broken through the breach you created. Hundreds of reconverted ships are going after the rest of the Damise and Agantzane.”

  “That’s… good to hear,” Syn-moon said.

  An intense grinding filled the air.

  “How can I assist you? Vyasa asked.

  “Join the others. I will save my ship.” Syn-moon turned to Quinn. “Go! Get Conor to an escape capsule.” She headed for the central table.

  A pair of Nemazi approached. One of them touched Quinn’s arm with his claw. “Shizani kah.” Escape capsule.

  Quinn nodded. “Lahzi?” Where?

  “Kolazu.” Follow.

  The Nemazi stepped into vortices of swirling smoke.

  Quinn invoked the image of a four-space cube. His vision leaped outwards, through corridors and conduits.

  The Badhati ship had impacted the Shasallah’s keel, and the docking bay was an inferno. Curling smoke crept through the ship’s air ducts like an assassin. Sweeping through the ship, Quinn spotted the Nemazi’s fading four-space trails. Black smoke poured from his hands, then he extended his own tunnel and stepped through.

  The Nemazi were waiting for him. They bowed their heads and chorused, “Shanata Tamah.”

  “Thank you,” Quinn said.

  A line of hatches were set into the wall. He palmed a pressure switch, and the adjacent hatch slid open. Banks of coloured lights winked on. The capsule was just three metres long with six berths. He crawled inside, laid Conor gently on one of the berths, and sealed them in. Conor’s head lolled to one side, and his lips parted. Quinn touched his cheek. It felt cold and clammy. He’s not going to make it. Quinn’s throat constricted.

  He felt a slight kick as the escape capsule launched. A small screen at the forward end showed a star field.

  “Shallah so nabari?” a female voice asked.

  Quinn didn’t recognise the language, but this was a Kimn vessel, so he assumed it must be Kimn.

  “Ardalan standard,” he said, his eyes sticky with dried tears.

  “Please state your destination.”

  “Engage cryogenics,” he croaked.

  “Please state your destination,” the voice repeated.

  He stared at Conor’s limp body. I’ve got to get him to a human doctor. “Eire Colony.”

  “There is no corresponding world in my database. Please restate destination.”

  “All right then, Earth, Sol system.”

  “That world lies outside the Consensus.”

  “I bloody well know that! Get us there, maximum speed!�
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  “Distance twenty-seven point four three lozari. Do you wish to initiate cryogenics now?”

  “Yes, yes!”

  “Please recline in one of the units provided.”

  Quinn settled into the berth next to Conor’s. Transparent covers slid over them.

  “Cryogenics initiated,” the voice announced in his ear. “Please relax and breathe normally.”

  “I’ll be getting off at this stop,” Quinn heard Vil-gar say. “Universes to save!”

  Before he could frame a reply, Quinn felt a momentary chill and slid into a deep and dreamless sleep. The capsule turned, picked up speed, and headed out into the void.

  ~

  TWO MONTHS LATER

  Quinn sat in a bare room on a steel chair in front of a steel table. A steel door opened, and a man with dark-rimmed glasses and thinning dark hair entered, wearing a grey business suit. He set a leather briefcase on the table, clicked it open, and extracted a sheaf of papers.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting. Regan Quinn, isn’t it? May I call you Regan? You can call me Miles.”

  “Is that your real name?” Quinn asked.

  Miles responded with a thin smile. “Let’s begin, shall we? You were on a fleet of colony ships. The fleet was destroyed.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you survived.”

  “Yes.”

  Miles peered down at his papers and read, “Rescued by an alien ship.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And then you met other aliens.”

  “I escaped,” Quinn said.

  “Oh, that’s right. Because they wanted you to kill them.”

  “It’s their system of justice.”

  “I see,” Miles said. “You claim these aliens are part of something called the Consensus? How many types of aliens are in this alliance?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How many did you encounter?”

  “On the city world of Zahava, dozens.”

  “And you say they sent ten thousand ships against you.”

  “Well, not against me, exactly—”

  “How many were on your side?”

  “A hundred fifty-seven.”

  “Did you win?” Miles asked.

  “I believe so,” Quinn replied. “Although I wasn’t there at the very end.”