A Warrior's Sacrifice (38 page)

A knock at the door brought Chahal to her feet. Corwin didn't look up from his com where he scanned the headlines and war updates.

"Excuse me, ma'ams and sirs, I'm from the Oniwabanshu Office of Family Affairs. We require your presence immediately."

Corwin closed his com, looking up in dull surprise. "If it's another request for adoption, I decline."

"Negative, sir. The Chief Propagandist demands you attend, even if you relinquish control of the genetic rights."

Corwin frowned, eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Chahal stepped in between. "On your feet, all of you." Her voice was set, filled with Command. Kai stood, shoulders bunched with tension. Hadil sighed, closed her own com, and did the same.

Corwin didn't move. "Whatever it is, I de—"

Chahal thrust her face into his, hand clamping over his mouth before he could finish. "Shut up." She helped him to his feet with a tug on the collar of his shirt. Without another word, Chahal turned and led the procession from the room. Corwin fell into line at the end, sulking.

To Corwin's surprise, they took the trams to the Medic complex, a warren of plasteel, glaring lights, and few windows.

They entered a room filled with people. Corwin's frown deepened. Cameras recorded from all sides, microphones hung from the ceiling like slim stalactites, and in the center, an Iron Womb hummed.

Corwin froze as all eyes and lenses turned to fix on him. His palms went clammy as memories flitted though his subconscious, struggling upward but not quite breaching the surface into full understanding.

Phae's mother stood amid several members of her family, her uniform pressed and appearance neat. She had prepared for this, had taken pains that every hair was in place. Corwin only looked as good as he did from Military habit, but bags drooped under his eyes, he slouched, his pants and shirt wrinkled from lounging.

The woman walked over, a shark's smile on her face. "Hello, Void Sergeant Shura," she said with a bow, "I am Wei Brigade Master Lieng, Phae's mother."

"I know who you are." Corwin's voice was cold. He remembered how she'd treated Phae, remembered her nickname, their conversation in the Lieng family complex. "Why are you here? What's going on?"

Her smile didn't waver, though her eyes squinted to menace. "We are here for the birth, of course. We know of your situation and have already filed the necessary forms and followed the appropriate channels to adopt the child into our Family. She will be cared for and trained with the highest skill. Surely you want that?"

Corwin blinked. His head spun. "I…" he cleared his throat. "I'm not sure I understand."

"All we need is for you to decline ownership of the child, and she will be accepted into her rightful Family with open arms."

The Iron Womb buzzed, hissing and gurgling as the nutrient medium that suspended and nurtured the infant drained. Corwin looked past the woman, extended a hand, and pushed her to the side.

He crossed the open space in a daze, moving, but with no recollection of any thought or decision on his part. The gurgling slurped to a finish, the plasteel lid unlatched. A tiny wail escaped into the room.

Corwin sucked in a breath. He reached out and tipped back the lid. Peering over the edge, his eyes went wide. An infant lay sopping, hair plastered to her small head with growth medium. She coughed, regurgitating liquid up onto herself, cried again.

A Medic appeared beside Corwin, rolling the child onto her side, rubbing her bare back to help her retch up more. He took a small plunger and cleared one nostril, then another, then duplicated the process with her ears. Taking a blanket from under the Iron Womb, he wrapped the baby, quiet now that her immediate discomfort was remedied, and handed her to Corwin, smiled, nodded, and withdrew.

Corwin settled her into his arms, overly careful in his attempt to make her comfortable, to support her head and neck.

Corwin stared into his daughter's eyes, and she stared back. He saw in them recognition. She saw him and knew him for what he was: her own, his own.

The world fell away. Deeper still, the inner walls that had kept Corwin separate, kept him safe, now cracked, shattered, dissolved at the strength of that gaze. To close himself off meant to close her out, to abandon this child as he was abandoned, as he had abandoned his Voidmates.

As he had abandoned himself.

Here was his daughter, this tiny person who would serve as his anchor to Humanity as a specie, and to himself. He would be on the outside no longer; for her sake he could not be. He reached out with his Sahktriya and caressed her, wove her being into his own.

Corwin became aware of other presences nearby. His Voidmates had come forward to partake in Corwin's experience. Looking up, he met their eyes, welcomed them, and they saw in Corwin his new understanding — and his apology.

"What's her name?" Hadil asked, running a finger down the infant's cheek.

Corwin looked at his daughter again. She had his mother's eyes. "Karishma, of Family Shura," he said.

A giant's hand fell onto Corwin's shoulder, shaking him with gentle brotherhood. "Well done, Corwin," said Kai in his bass rumble.

Corwin grinned, joy bubbling up inside for the first time since he'd come to the Republic.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Their capture of the Siloth ship had gained them a great deal of attention from their superiors, as well as the Republic citizens, and the Oniban and her cabinet had used it to their advantage in their own political schemes.

Their machinations took the shape of a new warship, the
Tokugawa —
the first ship built by Human hands with Earth-made tech — scheduled for completion and launch from the Republic's orbital spaceport in eighteen months.

After birth from her metal womb, Technicians would spend the first six months debugging her, and the first of the Zero-G subcaste would learn her controls. At the same time, they needed soldiers who could project that burgeoning naval power onto planets and moons and space stations, friend and foe alike.

And so the Oniwabanshu called up their lists of potential soldiers, created training programs, and allocated the needed equipment and resources. Of all the active soldiers across the Earth, they chose only 10,000 Tercio, along with a smaller occupying force of 5,000 Wei and an equal number of Teyma.

Of all the soldiers chosen, only four would be Maharatha, and the choice was easy, for their names were already on everyone's lips: Corwin, Hadil, Chahal, and Kai.

They launched into space with the rest, trained with the Tercio in ship boarding and defending procedures. The Maharatha also disappeared for weeks at a time with the IGA Special Vacuum Forces to train in all types of unorthodox maneuvers in Zero-G, from infiltration of enemy ship, to outright demolition with a few well-placed charges.

In addition, the four Maharatha underwent extensive training in large-scale operational management above and beyond the training received during their time in the Academy. This training coincided with promotions to all members of the Void, bringing Corwin's rank within the Maharatha Caste to that of Major and his Voidmates' to those of Sergeant.

Trips ground-side for the Maharatha were common, for in addition to the bone and muscle loss associated with time spent in null gravity, the unending nothingness of space could wreak havoc on Sentient minds used to bounded spaces and finite distances.

It worked to Corwin's advantage. Whenever he went Earth-side, he visited Karishma in the infants' crèche. He would take her with him out to explore the city and roam the small parks, the islands of green amid an ocean of gray. He took her out into the wilderness, where they'd camp for several days in a row, Corwin talking, teaching, Karishma listening, learning, and gurgling incoherences back.

On one of these Earth-side trips, Corwin took a chance. From the shuttle port, he went and collected Karishma from her crèche, then went to his bunk, where he pulled a well-worn pack from under the foot of his bed. He bundled it inside Karishma's blanket, down near her feet, and struck out towards his favorite park, a molecular torch also wrapped up beside her.

Careful not to attract attention, he secured Karishma on his back inside a gear bag and scaled the slick wall to the hidden cave.

Inside his hiding place, he nestled Karishma amongst the moss, growing green again out from the wall. With his service knife, Corwin cut and lifted a section of moss away from the slick plasteel underneath. He then set to work with his torch, cutting chunks away until he had a squareish hole that would accommodate the Śeṣanāga. Fitting it inside, he used the torch to reform the pieces into a kind of cap and then used the torch to melt the hole closed.

The remaining plasteel he cut into small pieces, allowed them to cool, and cast them out through the cave's opening to the roiling water below. Returning the moss to where it had lain, he took his daughter into his arms and spent some time enjoying the reprieve from training and people — alone, but never alone again.

All was ready to take Humanity into the stars.

Corwin stood with his Voidmates beside the idling vehicle that would take them to the star port. They stood on the sidewalk in front of a gray four-story building that looked very much like every other building nearby. Immaculate squares atop immaculate squares, small squares of plasteel glass for windows. The crèche's dean, a tall, grizzled man with a graying beard, stood at sharp attention. Two women with stern faces flanked him.

Corwin adjusted Karishma so she sat on his forearm and lifted her to eye level. She reached out and grabbed on to Corwin's ears for stability. Her big gray eyes traced the curves of his face.

"I have to go now," he said. "We're going into space on a big ship. I don't know when I'll be back."

She wiggled her head. "Ba-da," she cooed. Her head tipped forward, and Corwin kissed her a few times on the cheek and neck until she giggled.

He passed her around the circle, each Maharatha holding her and saying goodbye in their special way. She lingered with Kai the longest, waiting for his bass voice to rumble her tiny body. Once she was satisfied, he handed her back, his massive hand cradling the girl like a Karishma-sized chair. She squirmed and giggled.

Corwin took her, and she scrambled up his chest, tucking her head into the crook of her father's neck. She pulled on his ear, whispered "Ba-da." Then she grabbed his nose and pulled so his eyes were down to her level.

She fixed with him an intense look and began babbling in that language only infants kenned, and while Corwin couldn't understand her, he knew she was deadly serious.

Her look said she wanted an answer. "Okay. I promise," he said with a kiss on her forehead.

"Da," she said and palmed his nose.

The dean stepped forward and bowed. "Void Major Shura, you give this crèche dreng with your trust." His voice held a permanent hoarseness from years of yelling.

"Take care of her." Corwin's voice was cold, not from lack of emotion, but with a promise that if something should befall his daughter, the dean would pay.

"We are the best of the crèches in the Republic, sir. We will raise her to be a Drengin Republic Citizen."

Corwin frowned, snorted. He handed Karishma over to the stranger. She looked up, scrunching her nose in distaste.

"Sir?" he said, repositioning Karishma so she would be comfortable.

"Nothing. Nothing," Corwin said with a wave.

The dean bowed again. "Let's get you inside!" he cooed. He was gruff but caring — the Oniwabanshu chose their people well.

The Maharatha climbed into the transport, Corwin pausing at the door to wave at the dean's back, hopeful that somehow Karishma had seen. As the transport pulled away, Corwin watched the gray building until others blocked it from sight.

"Don't worry, you'll see her again." Kai's voice echoed in the small space.

"This is war, Kai. You can't make that promise," Corwin said.

Kai shrugged and looked out the window.

Corwin stared out his own window, watched the gray plasteel buildings slide past, saw the weary citizens trudging to and from work in their drab clothes.

Yes, they were heading back to war, and in war, anything could happen.

He hoped Karishma would forgive him if he never came back.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Glossary

For a detailed description of many of these terms and concepts, please visit
http://rosswinklerauthor.com

Abtinthae [
n & adj, cap, sing;
an individual or characteristics of individuals within the Abtinthae race
]; Abtinthae [
n, cap, pl; a swarm of Abtinthae
]

Accession [
v, cap; the act of discrete parts combining back together
]

Accession, Order of [
n, cap, sing; the philosophical group that believes in the tenants of Accession
]

Accessionist [
n & adj, cap, sing; can refer to an individual of the Order of Accession, or their ideas "An Accessionist ideal"
]; Accessionists [
n, cap, pl; members of the Cult of Accession
]