Blood of the Cosmos (17 page)

The Domestic compy emitted a synthesized hum as she went about her work, and Orli decided to head out before she left a fingerprint somewhere and earned herself a scolding from the compy. She decided to be with Garrison, who would appreciate her help.

DD waited for her at the door, apparently eager. “Shall we watch the ship land, Orli? Seth Reeves will join us.”

“Let's make it an outing, then.” She turned to the Domestic compy. “MO, when you're finished, you can move on to the next house.”

“I will be here for several hours yet, Orli Covitz, in order to do a good job.”

“You do that. We're going to watch the trader land.”

Seth joined them outside of the dwelling, and they all set off. “Shouldn't you be in school?” she asked.

“Classes canceled,” he said. “Due to the trader's arrival, but I'd rather be with DD anyway. Besides, I already know what they're talking about in school—did that years ago. And the other kids don't like me.”

Orli gave him an indulgent smile. “I suppose being raised as a Roamer, you had to learn the basics from an early age.”

“I wish I could go back to Academ.”

Orli had heard the boy say the same thing several times. “That's where you belong.” Seth had a great deal of talent, and he needed someplace where he could reach his potential.

Orli had been thinking of leaving Ikbir as well, and she knew the thought had crossed Garrison's mind. They had laughed when they each suggested the same thing in a languid conversation just before drifting off to sleep. “I thought I wanted to put down roots, but I don't really want to become a tree,” Orli said.

Lying beside Orli, Garrison had stroked her short, dust-mop hair. “And Roamers aren't meant to keep their feet on the ground for very long. It might be time to move on.”

Orli pondered the places she had seen, the adventures she'd experienced, and she wanted to do something more important with herself. She was too intelligent just to curl up on Ikbir in safe retirement. The people here were satisfied with nothing more than getting through one day after another.

On the landing field, Garrison's ship sat out in the open next to several rickety hangars, storage warehouses, and fuel silos. The
Prodigal Son
hadn't been flown in weeks. Six local flyers were parked haphazardly in the landing area, scout ships and transport vessels to fly across the flat continent, though few of the colonists had any reason to venture out there. A restaurant owner had set up a food stand outside the spaceport to serve the people waiting for the trader to arrive.

Even though they didn't know what would be on the cargo manifest, the colonists were already compiling unrealistic wish lists. They kept looking into the sky, hoping for any sign of the ship. Though Orli knew a few of their names, most of the people remained strangers to her.

With its small population, Ikbir was not a highly profitable run, but Kett Shipping required that even the outlying routes had to be serviced. Rlinda Kett had seen enough struggling colonies stranded during the Elemental War, and after a hugely successful career, she had priorities beyond mere profit. It was one of the reasons Orli liked her so much.

That reminded her that she needed to go back to talk with Rlinda face-to-face after the disaster that cost her the
Proud Mary
. Orli couldn't just hide here on Ikbir; maybe she should suggest that Garrison take her on a trip to Earth.

“Is it time yet? When is the ship going to land?” Seth asked DD.

“We are within an hour of the formally scheduled arrival time, but accuracy on such long journeys cannot be guaranteed.”

One of the Ikbir farmers frowned at DD's comment. “He'll be on time. Yoder never lets us down.”

Before long, the trader pilot pinged the Ikbir comm tower. “I'm going to need service from your best spaceport mechanics. Where's your main shipyard?”

“Shipyard? How about a cleared field for a landing area? I don't know how much we can help you, Yoder,” the comm tower responded. “We don't have any spare parts. Or any qualified starship mechanics, for that matter, though we've got a Roamer who's fairly skilled at repairs.”

The pilot transmitted back, “Then we might have a problem. Now be quiet and let me concentrate as I try to land. No guarantees.”

The trading ship came down through the sky leaving a black, knotted contrail. The descending ship was tilted off its axis, flying erratically.

Garrison shaded his eyes. “He's lost an engine.” Suddenly his expression filled with alarm, and he shouted to the crowd. “Get away from the spaceport! It's going to be a hard landing, and he might not be on target.”

Orli picked up the call, repeating the warning, and the colonists backed away, but not quickly enough for her comforts. Garrison signaled for an emergency crew and fire-suppression teams to stand by, just in case. They could hear the cargo ship's engine straining, coughing, and rumbling as Dando Yoder fought to bring the ship down in one piece.

“Is he going to be all right?” Seth asked.

DD said, “I cannot predict.”

“He's coming in hard, one way or another.” Orli made sure the boy withdrew to a safer distance.

The wobbling ship screeched overhead, swooping close to the spaceport landing area. Smoke poured from its port-side engine—the levitation engine, not the stardrive. Yoder nearly clipped the hangar rooftop before he managed to pull the ship into the air again. The near miss elicited a gasp of dismay from the colonists, who stood right in the potential crash zone, despite Garrison's warnings.

Yoder didn't risk a landing there, though; instead, he flew the ship beyond the town and circled again as his engines struggled. Finally, far enough from the buildings and the people, the ship landed hard, slewing on the freshly plowed dirt behind one of the planting machines. The ship crunched to the ground and slid to a stop. Rooster tails of smoke and dust spewed into the air.

Garrison and Orli ran to the response vehicles being loaded up. “DD, watch Seth!” she called back, and the compy did exactly that,
watching
as the boy jumped aboard with his father. No one decided to argue.

The vehicles raced across the open terrain, and when they arrived at the crashed ship, they saw an old bearded trader in a scuffed jumpsuit crawling out of the access hatch. He brushed himself off. Colonists doused the smoky engines with fire-suppression foam, but Yoder just stood with his hands on his hips. Tears were running down his face as he looked at the wreck. “What a mess! How am I ever going to get this fixed?”

“Not with the facilities we have here,” Orli said.

Garrison walked along the side of the ship, assessing. “Engine's gone, hull is split open, looks like the lower chamber has been crushed.”

“That was half my cargo,” Yoder said.

“We'll salvage what we can,” said Garrison.

“But the colony needed those supplies,” cried one of the farmers. “We were expecting twelve new power blocks.”

Yoder wiped at his eyes. “Sorry. The engine alarm sounded as soon as I hit the atmosphere, and then I was past the point of no return. Couldn't make it back to orbit and couldn't land safely.” He sniffled. “Doesn't look like my ship's going anywhere.”

“Not soon,” Orli said.

The Ikbir colonists looked shell-shocked. They were cut off; they didn't even have a green priest, so they could not request new supplies or the repair components Yoder's ship needed.

Garrison glanced at Orli and then at his son, and they all seemed to be thinking the same thing. “I've got a ship. I could take the
Prodigal Son
to Newstation and dispatch a repair crew back here, have them bring a cargo of specific items Ikbir needs.”

Yoder sat heavily on a pile of stirred-up dirt from the crash. “Be my guest. This run has never made me any money, and now it just cost a bunch. I'd appreciate it if you could help me out.”

“To Newstation?” Seth brightened. “Can I come along? Can I go back to Academ?”

Orli shot a glance at Garrison, knowing they wouldn't need to discuss it at all. She stood beside him. “Yes, I think we should go.”

 

CHAPTER

25

GENERAL NALANI KEAH

When the
Kutuzov
and three Manta cruisers entered orbit around Theroc, General Keah let out a whistle. “That looks like a parade.”

Verdani battleships formed a ring of thorns, gigantic tree vessels piloted by green priests who had sacrificed themselves by fusing into the heartwood. Seven Solar Navy warliners—of course, because Ildirans always did things in groups of seven—looked like fighting fish with extended solar sails. By contrast, her CDF Juggernaut and Mantas looked downright plain. Nevertheless, Keah had come to give her report to the King and Queen.

After the disastrous explosion at Dr. Krieger's sun-bomb factory, she had no choice but to present a realistic assessment of the situation. The CDF was not as prepared as she would have liked, though they were trying. General Keah was not one to avoid ruffling feathers when a cold dose of honesty was required, but a little bit of optimism often smoothed difficult decisions. The loss of the weapons facility and its crew was a severe setback, and production of the new sun bombs had fallen far behind schedule, but Keah was convinced the CDF would catch up. The real question was whether they could do so before the Shana Rei attacked again.…

The gigantic fungus-reef city and ground-level structures were filled with government functionaries, green priests, Theron settlers, Confederation trade representatives, even members of the Ildiran bureaucrat kith there on business.

After Keah arrived, she saw several strange, smooth-skinned humanoid creatures. She had received reports about the Gardeners, alien refugees from the Shana Rei who sought sanctuary on the worldforest planet. She decided to ask to debrief the Onthos. Even though they had lost everything to the creatures of darkness, they might have insights to offer.…

When the General entered the main throne room, King Peter and Queen Estarra were sitting at a conference table in deep discussions with Mage-Imperator Jora'h and his green priest consort. A potted treeling rested in the center of the table, close enough for Nira to touch. Alas, Keah didn't see Adar Zan'nh. She and the Solar Navy commander had a friendly rivalry.

As she entered, Peter indicated one of the empty chairs. The General handed out briefing packets and nodded toward the Mage-Imperator. “I have a full report on our war preparations. With the generous assistance of the Solar Navy, we are arming the CDF with Ildiran-designed laser cannons and sun bombs.” Keah took a seat, put her elbows on the table. “Our human scientists attempted to make improvements on the original designs, with mixed results.”

“We know the sun bombs work,” Queen Estarra said. “The few prototypes were effective against the Shana Rei nightshade.”

Keah said, “It's impressive technology, no doubt about that, but one of our scientists was trying to increase the yield.” She cleared her throat, looked away. “There was an unfortunate setback, but we have rectified the error. We should be back on track soon.”

“I have no doubt that the Shana Rei will attack again,” Peter said. “We don't know where they are or what motivates them.”

Recalling the engagement at Plumas, Keah said, “Apparently, their motive is to destroy
everything
—all sentience, all life, maybe even the cosmos itself.” She couldn't help her sarcasm. “Personally, I think they're overly ambitious.”

Keah stacked her briefing materials and looked at Peter and Estarra. “I'm curious about these Gardeners, though. I'd like to get a full report on what they know firsthand. Is it true that even the worldforest mind doesn't remember them?”

“Vague recollections, but no details—it's like amnesia,” Nira said. “But we can rely on Onthos memories and legends, which they're adding to the worldforest mind. Right now, the Gardeners are telling their stories to the green priests and to the trees. That should fill many of the gaps in the forest memory.”

One of the gray-skinned creatures appeared at the throne room, as if summoned. “General Nalani Keah, I am Ohro. I speak for the Gardeners and for our race's past.”

Keah raised her eyebrows. “How did you know I wanted to talk with you?” So close, the alien had an odd, fresh smell, like newly sawn wood.

“I was listening through the trees. Whatever any tree hears, we hear.”

General Keah had first learned of the unexpected alien race when an isolationist Roamer clan had found an ancient derelict city in space—which was contaminated by a highly virulent plague. Getting down to business, Keah asked Ohro, “How many other space cities do you have out there? They could be of strategic importance. Should we be looking for more?”

“There was only one,” Ohro said. “When the Shana Rei engulfed our home star system and our own worldforest, we scattered among other planets, barely surviving. Later, the Klikiss attacked us and drove us farther out. That city was a last refuge for some, but the Onthos who withdrew there were infected with a Klikiss disease. They are all dead now, and the city is gone.” The alien lowered his voice.

Keah was anxious to get as much information as possible, however. “Then what about your homeworld? I'd like to see what's left of it, maybe understand how the Shana Rei attack.” She felt frustrated, remembering how the shadows and their black robots had defeated them again and again. “We're grasping at straws here.”

Nira touched the finely scaled bark of the nearby potted treeling. “If there are any remnants of your worldforest, even scraps of fossilized wood, they may contain a few specks of memory that a green priest can use.”

Ohro shook his head, blinked his large black eyes. “The planet is dead. Our solar system is dead. Our scattered colonies are dead. Our space city is dead.” An edge of anger and terror cut the alien's words, and he lifted his smooth fingers toward the ceiling of the throne chamber. “Theroc is all we have left. If there are times of peace ever again, the Onthos may reproduce. If we survive.”