Burnt Worlds (41 page)

Shoving against the desk, pushing the chair back, he rose to his feet.
 
“Amba?” he asked, stepping around the end of the desk.
 
“What is it?”
 
He stepped closer to her.

Putting both her white-gloved hands out in front of her, she stopped him at arm’s length.
 
“Captain,” she said calmly, her eyes not leaving his.
 
“I need to tell you something.”

“Oh,” he said, feeling dread gather in his chest.
 
He nodded soberly, his brow furrowing.
 
“Of course, Tassali.
 
Go ahead.”

A hint of a smile flickered on her face, then was gone.
 
She looked away from him, toward the window.
 
“Whatever happens,” she said, “I want you to know how much I have appreciated all that you and your crew have done for me.
 
And especially you: your kindness, your acceptance, your… warmth.”
 
She looked back into his eyes.
 
“Please believe me, my feelings for you have been completely sincere.”

Swallowing, she continued.
 
“I did not say anything before because I was not certain, but now I am.”
 
She paused to take a breath.
 
“All these dead worlds we have found, all the destroyed life:
 
my people, the Palani, are responsible for it.”

One of Dillon’s eyebrows crept upward, but he said nothing.
 
He wanted her to say whatever she needed to say, in her own time.

“When we fought the Horlan,” she said, “we could not defeat them in battle.
 
Their ships were living beings, and they bred too fast for our fleets to keep up.”

She paused for another breath, then continued.
 
She kept her eyes focused on his, and he heard the desperation creeping into her voice as she told him about the viruses, the biologic weapon they formed, and the devastating effects it had.
 
Entire worlds full of life, all of it quickly consumed, leaving only dust.

The Captain said nothing as the Tassali paused.
 
She cleared her throat, her cheeks and eyes beginning to flush with blue as she continued.
 
“I have seen the wreckage of the second ship in the hangar; it is from a Horlan ship.
 
The Horlan must have spread the virus to these worlds here, and to the cylinder ships.
 
My people killed not only the Horlan, but a second entire civilisation.
 
We created something that put at risk all life in the galaxy.
 
My people have spent centuries — and countless lives — to keep this crime a secret.
 
To bury all knowledge of this genocide.
 
I submit myself to your judgement, Captain.
 
I will not resist, whatever you decide to do with me.”

Dillon stood silently a moment, his eyes narrowing.
 
This had all started with a morning cruise to test a new jump drive.
 
It was difficult to wrap his head around the scale of the problem, around the hundreds of questions that came to mind.
 
After what seemed an eternity, he nodded.
 
“Okay,” he said quietly.
 
“Is the virus still active?”

She shook her head.
 
“No, Captain.
 
Its DNA was encoded to deteriorate after a hundred years.
 
None of it should be alive anywhere.”

The Captain nodded again.
 
He watched her face, seeing the pain in her eyes.
 
“Tell me honestly, Tassali.
 
What, exactly, was your role in this?
 
What part did you play in creating and deploying the weapon?”

A moment’s confusion flashed across her eyes.
 
“It was centuries before I was born, Captain.
 
I have only recently uncovered the secret, and they intend to kill me for it.
 
It was my grandparents who—”
 

She trailed off as he reached up and put his hands on her shoulders.
 
“Captain,” she said, her voice brittle.
 
“What will you do with me?”

Dillon stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
 
She remained tense, her hands awkwardly at her sides, then tentatively touching his waist.

His voice was gentle.
 
“Tell me,” he said, “what do you need?”

She hesitated, then slowly slid her arms around him, pulling him closer to her, gently putting her head on his shoulder.
 
“I won't beg,” she said quietly.
 
“You do what you must.
 
But I have already been chased away from my home, my family.
 
Don't chase me away again.”

“Not a chance,” he said, holding her tighter.
 
“I want you here.”
 
He gave her a reassuring squeeze.
 
“Right here.”

He felt her melt against him, her body trembling as her well of emotion begin to overflow.
 
She sniffled and laughed at the same time.
 
“I never imagined I would find such a human as you.
 
Your acceptance — you — mean so much to me.
 
Thank you, Captain.”

“Hey,” he said calmly.
 
“Is that the right way to address me, Amba?”

Her face pressed against the gold stripes on his shoulder board, and she smiled.
 
“Thank you, Feda.”

-----

Atwell leaned forward, putting both her elbows on the wardroom table.
 
“Ma’am,” she said to the Tassali sitting opposite her, “just so I’m clear — this virus is definitely gone?”

All eyes were on the Palani.
 
Saparun, Cho, Lee, and Chief Black all watched her closely.
 
The Captain, sitting at the end of the table next to the Tassali, sipped at his coffee, his eyes watching the other crewmembers.

“Yes,” said Amba.
 
“In the last five hundred years, there has been no sign of the bacteria or any of the eleven component viruses.”

“That was back in our own neighbourhood,” said Atwell.
 
“What about out here?
 
We already know we’re a long way from home.”

Amba nodded.
 
“I have the data signature of one of the viruses.
 
All Palani medical scanners look for it.
 
I will of course provide the data.”

“What of the other ten viruses?” asked Cho.
 
“You said there were eleven.”

“The other ten,” she said, “are stored only as data, in separate locations.
 
They are considered my people's most sensitive secrets, more secret than any of our military technologies.”

“Okay,” said Cho, turning to look at the Captain.
 
“Sir, we’ll load the data signature and configure the sensors.
 
We'll keep an eye out for it whenever we scan anything.”

Dillon nodded, sipping again at his coffee; he noticed Saparun watching him.
 
The seven people around the table all fell silent.
 
The room was quiet except for the distant chatter of crew members and the rattling of a fan in the ceiling.

The Tassali looked from one person to the other around the table, a hint of a frown on her face.

“What is it, ma’am?” asked Atwell.

She sighed.
 
“I do not…” she looked at Saparun.
 
“Head Mechanic, you were correct.
 
These humans surprise me again.”
 
She looked around the table.
 
“My grandparents, and their generation, took part in a program that deliberately wiped out an entire civilisation, accidentally wiped out a second civilisation, killed entire planets and put all life in the galaxy at risk.
 
They deliberately sought to hide their crime, to erase all knowledge of it.
 
But even knowing that, you bear me no ill will.”

Cho shrugged.
 
“Why should we?
 
It wasn’t you.”

“But,” the Palani protested, “entire civilisations—”

Cho waved his hand dismissively, pointing at Atwell.
 
“Look, ma’am, my ancestors killed her ancestors’ people by the millions.”

Atwell nodded.
 
“And vice versa,” she said, glancing at Cho.

Black shrugged.
 
“My ancestors killed as many of Dillon’s ancestors as possible.
 
Hell, the two sides of my family tried to kill each other.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Cho.
 
“It’s a part of human history.
 
We don’t hold the children responsible for the crimes of the parents.”

Amba's voice was quiet.
 
“We do.”

“We can’t,” said Lee, breaking his silence.
 
“We can’t, ma’am.
 
We’d all be guilty.
 
We still fight each other constantly, but it’s over things that happened last week, not a century ago.
 
We don’t hold grudges as well as we used to.”

The Tassali shook her head.
 
“In my culture, a person who commits a great crime becomes unclean, less holy.
 
They are considered tainted, and the taint is passed on.”

“Wait,” said Atwell.
 
“If that’s true, and your people accept collective guilt for using this weapon, wouldn’t that make all Palani tainted?”

Amba nodded.
 
“Yes,” she said simply.

Black shook her head.
 
“That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard…” she hesitated, glancing around the table.
 
“Er, no disrespect, ma’am.”

“Well,” said Atwell, “what your grandparents did doesn’t matter to me.”

“Or me,” said Cho, as the others around the table nodded their assent.

Amba glanced at Dillon, whose eyes were watching hers.
 
He gave her a quick raising of an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curled into a grin.
 
“Okay,” he said, putting down his mug.
 
“I’m glad to hear all our old grudges are resolved.”
 
He couldn’t keep his eyes from quickly looking at Cho and Atwell.
 
Forcing himself to look down at his hands, he sighed.
 
“Because the stakes just keep getting higher and higher.”

He listened to the quiet room for a moment, as he absently poked his fingertip into a drop of coffee on the table top.
 
“Look,” he said, “here’s a new idea.
 
I think the discovery of the Horlan wreckage, and the confirmation of the bioweapon in this neck of the woods, is actually good news for us.”

The others around the table looked at him with blank and confused expressions.
 
It was Saparun who smiled first.
 
“It means,” said the Mechanic, “that the Horlan had a way to get back and forth from here to our own — as you say — neck of the woods.”

Dillon nodded.
 
“We just need to figure out what they knew.” He glanced at the ceiling above.
 
“Which, admittedly, is still a bit of a gap.”

Cho leaned back in his chair.
 
“It has to do with jumping, sir, something with jump drives.
 
I’m sure of it.”
 
He turned to the Tassali.
 
“Ma’am, do you know if the Horlan used jump technology?”

“They may have,” she replied.
 
“They were known to appear and disappear without warning.
 
We were never able to figure out their technology.
 
We focused on their biology instead.”

“What about the cylinder ships?” asked Atwell.
 
“This all started when we were testing the long jump, and one of them attacked us.
 
I bet they’re automated.”

“Perhaps,” offered Saparun, “our test pulled one of them into our space by accident.
 
We were doing something new, and such things often bring unexpected consequences.”

Cho nodded.
 
“It takes a shot at us, then wanders off.”

“It attacked a Palani ship,” said the Mechanic.
 
“And then a Palani colony.
 
It would make sense if it was programmed to respond to Palani DNA as a threat.”
 
He paused, his green eyes looking at Dillon.
 
“Captain, are you well?”

All eyes looked at Dillon, who was leaning back in his chair, frowning at the ceiling.
 
“Yeah,” he said.
 
He sat in silent thought for a few seconds.
 
“I think we’re all on the right track.
 
I’m just trying to figure out what it is we’re missing.
 
And I’d like to know who the hell is going to fix that fan.
 
It’s at it again.”

Without a sound, the
Borealis
slowed from light speed and came to a stop.
 
The stars, having appeared stretched while the ship was underway, sprung back to points of light.

“All stop sir,” said Pakinova.
 

Chief Black poked once at her console, then looked up.
 
“Captain, we’re at the right co-ordinates.”

Dillon looked out the windows at the empty space that surrounded them.
 
He glanced to his left.
 
Amba stood there, looking out the windows with him.

“Okay,” he said to the bridge.
 
“Who can tell us what’s missing?”
 

Several hands went up.
 
“A planet,” said Pakinova, a smile on her face.

“That’s right,” said the Captain.
 
“The navigation computer is insisting that we’re at the Palani homeworld.”
 
He gestured at the emptiness beyond the bridge windows.
 
“I beg to differ.”