Dreadnought (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 2) (19 page)

-26-

When we reached
Defiant
, I ordered my helmsman to take us out of orbit. After one last look at the blue-white beauty of the world, we left Sapphire behind.

“Where to, sir?” Durris asked from navigation.

“Find the closest bridge entry point,” I said. “I don’t care where it leads.”

Durris frowned, but he did as I asked. “This one,” he said, tapping at a glowing point on the screens. “We can exit the system here.”

“Set a course for that bridge. Get underway, helmsman.”

Durris got up and approached my chair. “Sir, that bridge leads to an undetermined endpoint. It might be terminal. There are a few others, much further out, that are on the Connatic’s star charts. They lead to known systems—places with markets to trade, colonists we can talk to.”

“No,” I said. “We’re not done with this star system yet. Set the course.”

Confused, he returned to his boards and did as I asked. Soon, the ship’s powerful engines rumbled, and we were pulling away toward the distant breach point. As it would take a full day’s flight to reach it, I got up and left the command deck.

I was in a sullen mood when a knock came at my office door.

“Enter,” I said.

Lady Grantholm stood revealed when the door swished aside. Her brow was stormy.

“Where are we going?” she demanded.

“Nowhere.”

“What kind of nonsense is this, William? I know you suffered a death on the planet, but that isn’t any—”

“No,” I said, “that’s not why I’m brooding. I’ve got a plan, and I’m executing it right now.”

She came inside fully, sat in the chair opposite mine, and stared at me expectantly.

I said nothing in response.

“Well?” she demanded. “What is this vaunted plan of yours? Why should I approve of it?”

“We’re not in a diplomatic situation,” I told her. “We’re soon going to engage in combat. That places me in command.”

“Really?” she demanded. “I don’t see it that way. There are no enemy ships nearby. There are only a few pathetic colonists, huddling on these forgotten worlds. There’s never been a more obvious diplomatic situation on this mission. I demand that you turn around and allow me to talk to the people you’ve made contact with.”

“No,” I said flatly.

Her face flushed with anger. “Listen, William Sparhawk. There will be a full court of inquiry when we return if you persist in these power struggles. Our orders are clear. Must I read them aloud to you?”

She pulled out a computer scroll and began tapping at it.

Leaning forward over my desk, I plucked it from her fingers. After glancing at it I dropped it on my desk.

“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded. “What’s gotten into you, William?”

“Aunt,” I said, “I want the answer to a question of my own. How did you know the true names of these planets before we got here?”

That stopped her for a moment. The anger on her face faded, and she scowled at me.

“I hardly see how that—”

“Sapphire, Jade, and the burning ember named Ruby? What a coincidence it must be that you knew them all.”

She eyed me with a pursed mouth and furrowed brow, but said nothing.

“These three worlds weren’t named by you,” I told her. “They were named a century or more ago by the people who landed here. But I’ve scoured our databanks. There’s no record of these planets. No record of these colonists. I demand that you explain how you knew the names of these worlds, and what else you might be holding back.”

She sat back, glaring at me. After a moment, her face softened a little.

“Let’s put our cards on the table,” she said. “Why are we flying toward a system exit point now? Why would we dare to enter an unknown bridge? And why do you claim we’re in a combat situation?”

“We’re moving toward an exit point because it’s my belief there are Stroj hiding in this star system. I’m trying to flush them out. Now, answer my questions.”

Pursing her lips even more tightly, she nodded. “All right. I accept your explanation, although I see no evidence of these Stroj.”

“The enemy ships are self-described pirates. They’re deceptive and stealthy. They also know we can beat them in a fight. They’re hiding here, somewhere. The colonists told me Lorn comes here regularly at this time of year. I believe they’re waiting for us to leave.”

She leaned forward and put her hands on the table between us. “You actually spoke to these colonists? Some of them have definitely survived?”

“Yes.”

“What else did they say?” she demanded.

“I’ll make a full report after you tell me what you know of this place.”

She flopped back again. “You always were a difficult child. When you first stood up, do you know that you didn’t want to sit back down again? You gripped a table fiercely for over an hour until your mother finally dragged you away from it.”

Rolling my eyes, I gestured for her to get on with her story.

“Very well,” she said stiffly. “As you may know, I’m what they call an oldster. I’m not as young as I look.”

“Really?” I said, doing my best to hold back any hint of sarcasm. She was correct in that most people believed her to be no more than a century old, while the family knew her to be twice that.

“There’s no need to be rude,” she said. “But it’s true. The records of my birth were lost in the Cataclysm, and I never share the true date. Let me assure you, people would be shocked if they knew the truth.”

That part I did believe. I nodded and waited.

“There were many colonists coming and going in the old days,” she said wistfully.

I could tell she was looking down through many decades of life.

“Many young people followed the colony reports closely, some of us even made it a pastime. News came back, oftentimes secondhand, of new planets and worlds being discovered and inhabited. When I first saw this place, I recalled the names of these worlds. The planets are so beautiful, just as they’d been described to me so very long ago.”

“All right,” I said after a pause, “I believe that part.”

“You should. It’s the truth.”

“Very well. But what I’m more interested in goes deeper than that. Some people on Earth knew of these places, even after the Cataclysm. Why didn’t Earth reestablish her connection with these lonely outposts? Why did we wait so long? Why did we sleep for a century and a half?”

“That’s harder to answer,” she said. “The Cataclysm disrupted everything. After we rebuilt our homeworld, there was a natural tendency to retreat from the stars.

People blamed our explorations—rationally or not—for our hardships. There was no longer an appetite for expenditures of any kind in space.”

That rang true to me as well. There had been, throughout history, pauses in humanity’s natural urge to expand and explore. The Chinese, for example, had sent out huge ships to discover Africa before Christopher Columbus had even been born. But they’d quickly tired of the expensive practice.

Similarly, after a few missions that led people to set foot on the Moon, the United States had failed to follow through. It had taken a full century after those early forays for anyone to push into space with vigor again.

“There’s more to it than that,” I accused, “isn’t there?”

“Well, yes,” she said. “The Great Houses of Earth had little appetite for exploration. Rediscovering the colonies might give people… ideas.”

Nodding, I smiled tightly. “Right. The ruling class might not survive exposure to democratic ideas echoing back from the colonies. Wasn’t that the main reason for ignoring the stars?”

She shrugged noncommittally.

I stood up and paced, gesturing with my hands in anger. “In the meantime,”
I said, “worlds like these were abandoned—places that you’d personally heard about when they were first discovered. Don’t you think we’re at least partly to blame for the mess we’ve found out here, Lady?”

“Perhaps,” she said, “but we didn’t know what had happened to them.”

“I think that you did. You and the rest of them, those of our family who’ve held power over the last century. You had to know in your heart what was going on out here. Barbarism. Genocide.”

“Why do you think I volunteered to come on this mission?” she demanded suddenly. “I’m old, nephew, but I remember these places from my youth. It’s strange to see them in person—and sad, I’ll admit it. But the best we can do is explore, reconnect, offer trade and diplomatic discourse.”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “We owe them more than that. They’re our abandoned children. We must establish order out here if we can.”

She heaved a sigh. “That’s an expensive, painful task to undertake. You may not realize what you’re getting yourself into, William.”

“Maybe not,” I said. “But I’m through hiding from our past and shirking Earth’s duty. We’re going to end the Stroj hunts in this system for starters.”

Moving decisively, I walked out of my office. She called after me, but I ignored her and headed for the command deck. My mood was dark, and I felt the outraged betrayal of all the souls who’d died on these worlds as if it had happened to me personally.

We’d abandoned our own, forgotten about them. It was unconscionable. How could my own relatives be responsible for such misery?

-27-

After streaking across the system, we broke through the membrane between two forms of existence and entered hyperspace.

Normally, at this point, we’d immediately begin seeking a way out. But this time I had different ideas.

“First Officer Durris, drop the first probe now.”

He looked surprised. “We just crossed into hyperspace, sir. We need to gain some distance so we have two points of reference—”

“I know all that, Durris. Drop the probe, but don’t bother to drop any more of them. I’m working a strategy, here.”

He did as I ordered. My staff exchanged glances and shrugs, but they obeyed.

I’d yet to take them all into my confidence. I suspected some of them might object to my plan, so I waited to inform them of its nature.

After flying for several hours, I did the unexpected again. I ordered the helm to reverse course and head back toward the initial probe.

This baffled everyone. “But sir, we’re moving at speed. We’ll have to counter all our inertia and come to a full stop before we can even begin to backtrack—”

“I’m well aware of the procedure, Durris,” I said. “Please follow orders.”

My crew did as I’d ordered, and ten hours later we were crawling back toward the bridge point we’d crossed the first time.

I took the time to sleep in my cabin. I hadn’t had a good sleep for days. The horrors of the colonists, both current and past, haunted my dreams. My mind was full of massive unseen monsters, villagers being slaughtered, and lovely vistas seen from mountain peaks.

It was the second or third chime at my door that awakened me at last. Suspecting there must be a systems problem, I staggered to the entrance and touched the wall.

It dissolved to reveal an unexpected figure. Zye stood there. She wore an uncharacteristic expression of concern. Her pupils were dilated and her breathing deliberate.

“What is it, Zye?” I asked. “Is there trouble with the ship?”

“Not that I know of,” she said.

“Well then, what—oh…”

She let her tunic slide open and revealed herself. “I thought this might be a good time,” she said. “If you’re not too tired, that is—”

“Come in here before someone sees you in the passage,” I urged.

She stepped into my cabin and shed her clothing. Without a stitch on, or any hint of embarrassment, she walked over and sat on my bunk, looking at me expectantly.

My eyes roved over her imposing breasts. They were faultless. But, since she was a statuesque woman, they were somewhat astonishing.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No,” I said, “I’m surprised that’s all.”

“It was my understanding that males are always ready for a spontaneous sexual encounter.”

I laughed. “Well, there’s some truth to that,” I said, “but we can still be taken by surprise. We have to be ready—in the mood.”

“I’m in the mood now,” she said.

For some reason, her brutal honesty and nakedness was daunting to me. I realized then I’d made a mistake when I’d started this whole thing between the two of us. We were so different. We had different expectations. Additionally, we were breaking unwritten rules. In Star Guard, fraternization wasn’t forbidden, but it was frowned upon.

“You do not desire me?” Zye asked.

“What? No, not at all. You’re perfect, in fact.”

“But overwhelming? Threatening?”

She was right, but I knew I couldn’t let her know that. She was already picking up on my hesitancy.

“Zye, we have to talk,” I said.

There it was. The classic beginning of a break-up conversation. Unfortunately, Zye didn’t even recognize the signs. She’d never had a break-up before.

“We are talking,” she said flatly.

Suddenly, the magnitude of the error I’d made by bedding Zye some days earlier was crashing down upon me. She might be devastated. I might have screwed up what was an otherwise excellent working relationship.

“Right…” I began, sitting on the bunk next to her, “what I mean is that I don’t think we’re compatible in the long term. We had a moment, and—”

“I’m unappealing to you,” she said, standing abruptly. “I suspected this might be the case. I’ve studied the human ideals in female anatomy. My height of two meters falls well outside the usual parameters indicated by my research.”

My hands came up defensively. “You aren’t unappealing. You’re actually perfectly proportioned. Large, yes, but that’s something many men can overcome.”

“Hmm…” she said thoughtfully. “That’s what Norrick said. His word-choice was almost identical. Did you confer with him on this topic?”

Blinking, I shook my head. “Are you talking about Ensign Norrick? The new man in the life support module?”

“Yes. He’s the only Norrick aboard, I believe.”

“Of course… how did this topic come up with him?”

“During our sexual event last night, I asked him if he was pleased with me. He insisted I was perfectly proportioned, as you just did.”

I was my turn to stare in shock and confusion. “You slept with him? Last night?”

“I’m sorry if you’re offended,” she said. She reached out a hand and patted mine in what I took to be a clumsy effort to be comforting.

“I’m not—well—this is unexpected. You’ve slept with another man so soon?”

“You were unavailable. You spend most of your time on the command deck, you know. After our first encounter, I found I couldn’t stop thinking about the next. Eventually, I grew tired of waiting and sought out companionship elsewhere.”

My mouth was hanging open. I closed it with an effort.

“Right…” I said, grasping the situation at last. “Well, I’m happy for you Zye. I want you to enjoy yourself with Norrick. He’s a fine young man.”

“He’s a year older than you are, actually.”

I sighed. She wasn’t the best at tact. “What I mean is we had a nice time once, and we’ve moved on. That’s all right with me.”

“You’ve moved on? Meaning, you have a new partner?”

“No,” I said. “Not yet. As you said, I’ve been busy.”

She frowned. “I’m glad you helped me get over my initial reluctance and fear of rejection. After we finally mated, I felt much less tense about subsequent encounters.”

I was pretty sure she meant she was no longer hung up on me. That could only be a good thing.

Smiling, we stood up, and I gave her a hug. Our contact lingered. She was close, and nude, and the tension and worries of the day had faded from my mind. As her touch began to get my undivided attention, we separated. I fully expected her to put on her clothes and leave.

Instead, she headed to my tiny liquor cabinet and brought out a bottle and two shot glasses. She poured without asking.

“Zye…” I said, “I thought we were breaking up.”

“I didn’t come here to break up.”

“What about Norrick?”

She shrugged. “Let’s forget about him and drink one glass to our newfound understanding.”

What could I do? I drank the shot. Then we had another. By the fourth, we were back on my bunk, and by the fifth—well, it was all over.

Lying next to Zye an hour later, confused and amused at the same time, I fell asleep.

* * *

When I strode back onto the command deck, the ship was less than an hour away from the breach. Looking over the ship’s speed and course, I frowned.

“First Officer Durris!” I boomed.

He stepped in my direction. He had a look on his face, one that told me the tale.

“Yes, sir?”

“Are you the one who altered our plan of attack?”

“Not at all, sir. I simply reduced our speed to normal breakthrough levels.”

“Could you see me in my office—immediately?”

I turned and left him standing there. He had no choice but to follow me.

Taking deep breaths, I tried to calm myself. Durris hadn’t been down there on Sapphire. He hadn’t seen what our colonists had become. He hadn’t realized, either, that my own family members bore some level of responsibility for the situation.

“Sir?” he asked, standing in the doorway. “I can explain.”

I waved for him enter then touched my desk, causing the door to coalesce behind him.

“You were saying?” I prompted. “Why are we traveling more slowly than I ordered?”

“High-speed breaching is dangerous, sir. I know that you briefed us yesterday on the possibility of pirate Stroj hiding in the system somewhere, but I—”

“My orders weren’t followed while I was off-duty,” I said. “That’s unacceptable.”

“Captain, you briefed us yesterday on your plan. I know you want to break through into the system again at high speed. Using only inertia, we’ll glide back toward the target worlds, looking for the enemy without drawing attention to ourselves by using our engines.”

In space, a ship’s engines were like beacons in the night. A large starship could produce a trail of exhaust and radiation resembling that of a comet and was therefore easily identified. Gliding without thrust, however, made any ship fairly stealthy and difficult to detect.

“Why are you obstructing my goals?” I asked him.

His mouth worked for a second. He squirmed visibly. “I’m sorry sir. This situation is impossible. I don’t know who this ship’s master is. I’m sorry.”

I stared at him for a second. “Lady Grantholm…? Let me guess: she came to you, and she changed my orders while I was off the deck.”

“I did
not
tell you that, sir,” he said quickly, looking down.

“No, you didn’t,” I said. “I figured it out for myself.”

Walking to the far wall, I swept my hand over it. A portal opened. It was frosted and heavily shielded with lead. Beyond the glass itself, electromagnetic shells of force protected my eyes—but it was still an actual window onto space itself.

Hyperspace was outside. There was nothing else.

“So bleak,” I said. “Hyperspace makes normal space look bright, cheery and full of objects.”

“Really sir, I couldn’t do anything. Why did CENTCOM put us in this situation? Why didn’t they simply trust you with full command?”

It was a good question, and I thought I knew the answer.

“Did you know my aunt—excuse me, the Ambassador—recognized this star system the moment she saw it?”

Durris looked at me. “No sir… how’s that possible?”

“Because she was alive when the news came of this system’s discovery. Think of it—a woman among us who is so ancient she recalls watching the colony ships lift off with her own eyes...”

“That’s an amazing concept, sir,” Durris said. “I didn’t know any of the oldsters who are still around dated back that far.”

I continued to stare out the window at nothing. Gamma particles sparked now and then, striking the ship at tremendous speeds. Even though hyperspace was empty, there were radiation belts now and then. Possibly, they were echoes of the exhaust of past ships that had crossed this lonely bridge.

“I should have known the second I saw the course corrections that it was her doing,” I told Durris. “Get back out there and fix this. Dismissed.”

He left. Once he was gone, I summoned my aunt.

She was in a bad mood from the moment she entered my office—but I no longer cared about her mood.

“Aunt Helen,” I said to her, still staring into the endless dark, “please sit down.”

She did so, but she muttered something behind my back.

I turned to fix her with angry eyes.

“Yes, yes,” she said. “I adjusted your plan of attack. I’m
so
sorry. But unless we’re in combat, Star Guard put me in command. It was my prerogative.”

“That’s debatable,” I said, “but in any case,
why
did you do it?”

She leaned forward. “William, I’m here to make contact. I’m here to open diplomatic channels. Blasting apart colonist ships—
any
colonist ships—is not part of my stated mission.”

It took me a second to get it.

“Star Guard wishes to open diplomatic relations with the Stroj? Is that it?”

“Yes, of course. It’s not a popular idea back home, but it’s necessary. You’re flying a starship—you really should try to grow up.”

“By ‘growing up’, I take it you mean I should turn a blind eye to pain and suffering? That I should sell out these colonists as hunting trophies if it buys Earth some years of peace?”

“Exactly,” she said in a patient tone. “Earth is weak right now. We’ve begun to expand our military budgets, but it can’t all be done in a year or two. We need to talk with the Stroj, to put them at ease until we can rebuild our fleets.”

I shook my head. “I know the Stroj better than most. It won’t work. They can’t be dissuaded that way. In fact, showing weakness will only encourage them. They must fear us, Lady, or we are lost.”

“Defending your ship is one thing, but the Stroj ran and they got away. Let them be, William. I’m pleading with you.”