Blood of the Cosmos (69 page)

“He was a good young man,” Jora'h said. “He helped Daro'h greatly. He studied politics and diplomacy, because he wished to impress you. He proved himself to my satisfaction … and yours, too.”

Nira raised her chin to look at him. “But did I treat him right? Did I
train
him right?”

She touched the next treeling, ready to plant it apart from the others, when suddenly she felt a thrum through telink, an urgent message sent to all green priests by a desperate man—Beltrias, the hunter green priest who had gone to Kuivahr. The message was instantaneous, and Nira knew about the attack as soon as the shadows arrived.

With her eyes wide, she turned toward the Mage-Imperator. “Kuivahr is under attack! The Shana Rei have appeared there. Osira'h is in danger, along with Tamo'l, and all the others.” She closed her eyes, felt a shudder. “We have to save them, Jora'h!”

The Mage-Imperator was already shouting to his entourage. “Contact Adar Zan'nh. Have him launch the full cohort—now! We know where the shadows are.” His voice became hard and frightening. “It is time to fight.”

 

CHAPTER

118

TAL GALE'NH

Gale'nh devoted days without sleep to studying the recent engagement at the Onthos system, memorizing every detail of the robot ship movements in search of a pattern or a weakness. With as much concentration, he analyzed the Shana Rei entropy attacks, the effectiveness of the laser cannons and sun bombs. He ran simulated tests of the powerful new CDF sun-bomb designs. He vowed to discover ways to improve the Solar Navy defenses so they could be far more devastating—if not victorious—in their next confrontation.

And there would certainly be a next confrontation. The days ticked by, and he waited.…

In a simulation chamber used to train officer candidates, Gale'nh compiled records from the surviving warliners, along with log data shared by the
Kutuzov
. Using realistic holograms, he refought the earlier space battles at Plumas, at Hiltos, and at the Onthos system. He even received a sketchy report and log-camera footage from an escaping trader, the
Verne
, that had witnessed the destruction of Ulio Station.

Each time he reviewed the engagements, Gale'nh tried to imagine what he might have done differently.

Fortunately, even the larger black robot ships were vulnerable to conventional fighting methods, and Gale'nh could see how to destroy the enemy vessels. In the final analysis, though, the robots were only a distraction compared with the massive threat of the Shana Rei.

Muree'n and Yazra'h joined him in the battle-simulation chamber, eager to fight
something
. They observed the sharp images with curiosity, though space battles and tactical movements of large numbers of vessels were not the way they engaged in battle.

His bond with his sister Muree'n was strong, and since she was so close now, he drew upon her strength and confidence. Sensing his need, Muree'n allowed it. As a warrior, she never seemed to have any doubts whatsoever.

Standing together in the simulation chamber, all three of them watched the tactical projections, holographic icons of the battleships in play: Solar Navy warliners, sometimes CDF Juggernauts or Mantas, a seemingly inexhaustible supply of black robot ships, and the giant hexagonal cylinders of the Shana Rei. The creatures of darkness used few overt weapons except for the disruptive entropy fields that damaged any nearby technology.

Muree'n squeezed her crystal-tipped katana so hard that her knuckles turned white. “I prefer to fight an opponent who is right in front of me. I want to see the damage I inflict. That way I can touch the spilled blood with my own fingertips.”

“I doubt the shadows even have blood,” Gale'nh said, then shook his head as a coldness swept through him again. “Much of what they did to me has been wiped from my mind. They could be doing worse things to Rod'h right now.” He could no longer sense his half-brother, but he didn't think Rod'h was dead—simply taken out of the universe.

Yazra'h looked fierce with her long hair in a halo around her head. “These space battles make combat seem like a game. Ships, tactics, projectile trajectories.” She made a snort as if she found that wanting.

“The Shana Rei also turn Ildirans against Ildirans,” said Muree'n. “They make our people commit bloodshed for them. It is cowardly.”

“I will fight them again—either way,” Gale'nh said.

As the Plumas simulation continued, holographic Solar Navy warliners swept along in complex maneuvers, interacting with Confederation Defense Forces above the ice moon. Suddenly, as he concentrated, Gale'nh felt a rough, painful lurch inside himself, as if some dark presence had begun sawing at the strings of his existence.

Beside him, Muree'n flinched as well. The girl turned pale, and her expression tightened as if she had just swallowed poison. They both heard Rod'h shouting to them through their special connection: a flood of sensations … pain, terror, and despair. The connection strengthened, reinforced, and Gale'nh received a clear alarm, a call for help, not just from Rod'h.

Osira'h.

Tamo'l.

All three of them were in the same place—Kuivahr!

With half-formed mental images, he could sense the looming shadow cloud, and he
knew
that the Shana Rei were coming to seize his two sisters, just as they had taken him. As they had taken Rod'h. They wanted to capture all of those strange genetic combinations that could resist them in ways that purebred humans and Ildirans could not.

Gale'nh gasped, and the words were stolen from inside him. He could barely breathe.

Yazra'h grabbed Muree'n, propping the young woman up and shaking her shoulders. “What is it? Fight it!”

“The shadows!” Muree'n gasped. “They have Rod'h … and they want my sisters. They are at Kuivahr.”

Gale'nh shook himself, trying to fling away the distraction. “The Shana Rei are attacking—
right now
.” He raced to the wall of the simulator chamber, ignoring the distraction of holographic images around him. On the computer-modeled battle, a giant Roamer water tanker exploded, spraying a cloud of vapor that wrought havoc in the path of hyperaccelerating robot warships.

Gale'nh slapped his hand on the controls, dispelling the images. With shaking hands he found the comm, used his direct private channel to Adar Zan'nh. “Adar, Kuivahr is under attack. It's … Rod'h. He is there.”

Zan'nh responded instantly. “I just received a message from the Mage-Imperator. Your mother picked up the alarm from a green priest there. The planet is under attack. The shadows just arrived.”

Muree'n also shouted into the comm. “The shadows are trying to take my sisters, too. They want all of us halfbreeds, and Rod'h is trying to resist.”

The shouts and fear still rang inside Gale'nh's mind. Rod'h was so desperate. And Gale'nh was just as afraid for Tamo'l and Osira'h.

Adar Zan'nh answered. “Our warliners are prepared and our weapons have been replenished. The entire cohort is on high alert. We are ready to depart.” On the screen, he narrowed his eyes. “If you wish to join me, Tal Gale'nh, take an immediate shuttle to orbit. I will give you command of another warliner.”

“I will be there, Adar,” Gale'nh said.

He was already running—with Muree'n right at his side.

 

CHAPTER

119

GARRISON REEVES

When the Big Ring was complete, Garrison reserved a scout pod to make an inspection flight, and it seemed that everyone else at Fireheart had the same idea. The gigantic torus hung in space like a wedding ring for the universe.

When he had last checked, he was one of seventy-three individual inspection runs; not only was the Big Ring the largest physics experiment ever attempted, it was quite likely the most verified and inspected piece of equipment ever produced. Larger personnel shuttles flew out as well, and Station Chief Beren Alu didn't even pretend that they were anything other than sightseeing opportunities.

More than ten thousand Roamer workers had contributed to the project over the course of six years, not counting the initial planning phases. Garrison had seen varying estimates of the overall budget, none of which were remotely accurate, because numerous clans had contributed private funding and most of them didn't want to share details. Besides, no one suggested that Kotto hadn't earned it, since his brilliant inventions had saved not only the clans but quite likely the human race.

When one of the scout pods was returned and refueled, Garrison signed it out, climbed aboard, and flew away from the admin hub. Other small craft flitted around the giant ring structure, looping through the central hole and cruising up along the curvature.

He was glad to have the pod to himself, which let him be alone with this magnificent structure. He was trained in dozens of useful skills. Some of his past jobs had been mind-numbingly boring, some dangerous, others gratifying, but none instilled such a sense of pride as this one did. He wasn't especially interested in esoteric dimensional physics, high-energy transfer flux, folding and looping electromagnetic fields. Nevertheless, the ring itself struck him with awe.

And the
boldness
of such an impossible project warmed his heart. Olaf Reeves had called upon the clans to follow his similarly audacious vision of reassembling Rendezvous, but the Roamers had wanted a fresh start. Garrison's father hadn't been interested in anything new or fresh, and when the clans focused their efforts elsewhere, the stubborn man forced his own family to spend years on pointless work.

In the Big Ring, though, Garrison saw the proof of what the Roamer clans could achieve when they worked together on a project they all believed in. He was exhilarated to be part of it. He did wish, though, that Orli and Seth could be here with him to watch.

After the experiment, Station Chief Beren Alu was anxious to get Fireheart Station back to profitable manufacturing. Crew chiefs, seeing Garrison's work, had offered him jobs at the energy-film farms, at the power-block assemblies, at the isotope packaging stations.

But as soon as the test was run, Garrison planned to head out and find Orli again. He had done a great deal of thinking—mostly about
her
—even while he kept busy with the impossible tasks. He had not had contact with her in some time, and he hoped she was all right. He also hoped they could find a way to run their lives in parallel.

He saw numerous ships flying to and from the greenhouse dome. With the full test imminent, a constant stream of workers wanted to send telink messages to friends, family, loved ones. He had sent another message to Academ only two days ago, telling Seth how excited he was.

In front of him, a flurry of lights sparkled along the ring: test lamps evenly spaced along the torus, winking on in sequence. They reminded Garrison of hundreds of luminous fairies racing around a track. Kotto Okiah had authorized the running lights to be tested every hour, just to impress all of the sightseeing “inspection” flights.

Glancing at the chronometer, Garrison realized he had to return the scout pod in fifteen minutes, because someone else wanted to do a flight. He reversed course and headed back to the docking bay. Very soon, the Big Ring was going to make history.

 

CHAPTER

120

GENERAL NALANI KEAH

After the debacle at the Onthos system, the damaged
Kutuzov
was still undergoing at least two weeks' worth of repairs—and loading up with Dr. Krieger's new sun bombs, which had also been shipped off to the Ildiran Solar Navy in great numbers.

But Keah didn't want to just sit around licking her wounds. She was eager to fight something, even though she didn't have her Juggernaut. She dreaded the alternative of sitting around and completing paperwork, attending meetings, reviewing strategy sessions. A grim future indeed.

And then, like a miracle, King Peter suggested an entirely different mission.

When Deputy Cain showed her appalling images of the biological black markets on Rakkem, her anger turned in another direction. Passing along the crackdown orders from King Peter and Queen Estarra, the Deputy had asked General Keah for a volunteer to stomp down those dangerous and unregulated facilities. Keah had an immediate answer for him.

“Hell, I'll go! The
Kutuzov
is being repaired and restocked, but we have other ships. In fact, I'll use it as a training exercise, take one of the Three H's into an active operation.”

As she paced, she reviewed the records of Rakkem and was disgusted to see images of the failed antiaging chelation treatment that made the victims' skin slough off. Although Keah was starting to get lines around her eyes and mouth, and a bit of loose skin on her neck, she had decided to grow old with grace. She had
earned
every wrinkle and gray hair, dammit!

Rakkem was also rife with black-market organ warehouses, experimental cures for sale to the highest bidder, scams, destructive drugs, designer poisons, every possible corruption. Keah found it appalling.

As she seethed about how Rakkem preyed on terminally ill patients, she recalled an important fact. She raised her eyebrows, looked at Deputy Cain. “Admiral Haroun's wife died two years ago from detangling cancer. I believe she tried countless medical treatments—none of them successful.” She nodded to herself. “We'll take his Juggernaut, and he'll act as second-in-command of the mission—in fact, why think small? I'll take fifteen Manta cruisers, too, and shut the place down.”

“The King and Queen trust your instincts,” Cain said.

So, General Keah put the mission together, gathering Haroun's Juggernaut and the fifteen Manta cruisers. Considering how badly they had gotten trounced in every previous encounter with the Shana Rei, a victory on Rakkem would be a shot in the arm and a confidence booster for the CDF—and a good deed to boot.