Scattered Suns (50 page)

Chapter 105—DOBRO DESIGNATE UDRU’H

As the rebellious warliner approached Dobro on its mission of conquest, shiing crept through its ventilation system, deck after deck. The stored canisters contained enough of the substance to subsume an entire splinter colony; it was more than enough to unravel the crew from Rusa’h’s net.

Still hidden, the Dobro Designate waited with Adar Zan’nh in the cargo decks. Time passed slowly.

Noticing their loss of focus, some of the subverted Solar Navy crewmen responded with alarm, but the inhaled drug rapidly penetrated and soothed their thoughts. Soon the entire crew was disoriented, intoxicated, partially oblivious, and—most importantly—cut off from the mad Designate’s enforced new
thism
.

“Even if they are lost, at least their minds are freed,” Zan’nh said, his voice muffled through the breathing film. “I only wish Thor’h were aboard this ship. I’d like to see him sealed in my old cell, where he could cause no further harm.”

Soon, the air in the warliner had a noticeably hazy appearance, as if a faint mist had arisen from between the deck plates. Released from Rusa’h’s web, the destabilized crew was no longer connected to any
thism
at all. Udru’h and Zan’nh now had to reassert control, bring back the loyalty of the crew, and convince them of their folly. It would be a delicate task.

Adar Zan’nh tore off the disguise he had taken from the bodies of the guards, while still wearing the breathing film. Beneath it, the Solar Navy uniform was tattered, rumpled, and bloodstained, but he wore it proudly. “It has been long enough. I want to go back to the command nucleus—
my
command nucleus.”

Udru’h gave him a small, contained smile. “As you command, Adar.”

The two men made their way up one deck after another to the warliner’s bridge, not bothering to hide their movements. Though they did not want to fight, both of them held weapons, and Udru’h knew they’d be able to kill many of the disoriented brainwashed crewmen, if it came to that. Instead, the Solar Navy soldiers who saw them responded with confusion; the crewmen shook their heads as if they had lost track of their thoughts.

Udru’h mused, “I wonder if Rusa’h is aware that he no longer controls these followers.”

“I hope he can sense much more than that,” the Adar replied, his voice dark with anger. “I hope he feels his entire rebellion crumbling.”

At the threshold of the command nucleus, Udru’h paused. “Our time grows short. According to the projected flight plan, the warliner should be nearing Dobro.”

“Then we must do something about that.” Zan’nh strode onto the bridge like a victorious general. His voice was powerful enough to startle even the shiing-disoriented crewmen at their posts. “Your Adar has returned to his command! You will follow my orders.”

His eyes blazed as he stared at one Ildiran after another, demanding their obedience. Still reeling, the crew could not yet realize what they had done, but the shiing made them easily susceptible to suggestion. They were torn from the corrupted
thism
web now, entirely adrift. Some of the command crew looked woozy and stunned, others showed an edge of panic. They had no guidance from the Hyrillka Designate and nothing else to hold on to.

“You will listen to
me
.” Zan’nh’s voice had the strength of a seasoned commander, not unlike Adar Kori’nh’s.

Designate Udru’h stood beside him, both of them showing firm confidence. After a long moment, one of the wobbly crewmen stood and pressed his fist to his chest in a formal Ildiran salute. The warliner’s captain shook his head as if waking from a dream. He stared at the Adar’s insignia, then finally seemed to recognize it. He stumbled backward. “Adar!” He also offered his salute.

One by one, the crewmembers surrendered. As the warliner continued toward Dobro, Udru’h smiled. “That was very good, Adar.” Seeing the planet grow large in the warliner’s screen, he opened his mind and allowed the strands of normal
thism
to unreel in clear silvery soul-threads. “Since your scan operators do not seem very alert, perhaps you should check the screens yourself?”

Zan’nh adjusted the warliner’s long-range sensors. His eyes went wide as he detected several blips, then a few more, then a huge cluster of fast-approaching ships.

The Dobro Designate smiled. So! Despite his resentment toward Udru’h, Jora’h had indeed taken a chance and followed his brother’s plan!

“Is it the rest of my maniple? Did Thor’h—?” Zan’nh looked at his listless crew, and uncertainty was plain on his haggard face. “I doubt I’m capable of taking this warliner into battle just yet.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

It rapidly became apparent that far more than a maniple of warliners stood against them. A huge force bristling with weapons blocked the single rebel battleship. Three hundred forty-three vessels: a complete Solar Navy cohort.

The Dobro Designate had no desire to hide his presence now. He felt the linkage, pleased to realize how near the Mage-Imperator was. Hundreds of weapons were prepared to open fire on them.

He turned to explain to Zan’nh. “Knowing when Rusa’h would arrive to threaten Dobro, the Mage-Imperator dispatched a heavy Solar Navy force to make a stand here. They intend to obliterate this ship.”

The Adar reacted with surprise. “But we are both on board!”

A thin smile crossed the Dobro Designate’s face as he nudged aside a transmission operator and began to focus the warliner’s comm system himself. “Your father is finally seeing the necessity of certain terrible decisions.”

Chapter 106—MAGE-IMPERATOR JORA’H

As the overwhelming force of Solar Navy battleships approached the lone warliner, Jora’h could not sense its crew anywhere in his thism. He feared the worst, and was prepared to do what he must. Regardless of the cost, the Mage-Imperator would stop them here.

For a full day, the cohort of warliners had lain in wait near Dobro. According to the ultimatum Udru’h had been given, the Mage-Imperator knew that the rebels would send their might against the colony, whether it was one warliner or the whole maniple. He had to be ready for anything.

In the meantime, he waited with the fastest courier ships on standby, both hoping and dreading that he would receive word from Osira’h that she had brought the hydrogues to Ildira. If that happened, he would have to race back, and leave the battle here despite the bloodshed, without his hoped-for resolution.

Too much all at once. But it couldn’t be helped.

How had the Dobro Designate answered Rusa’h’s demand, in the end? Jora’h wished he could be certain. In spite of Udru’h’s assurances, Jora’h did not trust him to operate out of anything but his own interests. It was even possible that the Dobro Designate would try to play both forces against each other. Would Rusa’h himself be among those who came to conquer the splinter colony? Would Thor’h?

He had hated to leave the Prism Palace, especially while Osira’h attempted to communicate with the hydrogues. So many other crises were causing turbulence in the Spiral Arm. But he had to end this sickening rebellion and restore control to his own Empire.

Finally, Tal O’nh, the commander of this cohort, had relayed a message from the fringe cutters on sentry duty. “One ship incoming, Liege. A single warliner.”

One warliner. Perhaps that would minimize the unnecessary casualties.

“Proceed,” Jora’h said. O’nh had his instructions, and the Mage-Imperator would not interfere with the commander. He knew it was possible that Udru’h had actually attempted to carry out his unlikely plan, but even if the Designate had been true to his word, Jora’h held out little hope that he had succeeded. In all likelihood, Jora’h would have no choice but to stop the rebel warliner and then go after Hyrillka itself.

Adar Zan’nh had somehow lost control of his maniple, and Rusa’h had used those warships to spread a bloody insurrection. But Jora’h was stronger than the Hyrillka Designate. Much stronger.

“All quls and septars acknowledge,” Tal O’nh said. “Ready weapons against that warliner.” The deadly offensive systems thrummed, ready to annihilate the rebel vessel. Jora’h braced himself. Although they were all disconnected from his own
thism
web, he feared he would still feel the pain of their deaths. It should never have come to this.

If the Mage-Imperator gave an order to massacre all those Ildirans—even though they were rebels—the race would no doubt be scarred forever. The records in the
Saga
would damn him. He hoped there was another way.

He sensed the emptiness in the
thism
from the warliner; it seemed like a ghost ship, but he knew it carried a full crew. Then he felt two others, like tiny candles in a vast darkness—the Dobro Designate and Adar Zan’nh remained on board! But had they succeeded?

The warliner’s comm system transmitted the words that Jora’h longed to hear. “Liege, this is Udru’h. The Adar and I have reasserted control of this vessel. The entire crew is currently under the influence of shiing. I believe they are ready for you.”

Smiling with relief, Jora’h acknowledged. “Thank you, Designate. I will lead them back.”

In the command nucleus of the cohort’s flagship, he stood rigid, his braided hair twitching and thrashing as he closed his eyes. As Mage-Imperator, he had control over all the soul-threads and the correct pathway to the Lightsource. Now he sent out his thoughts, grasping the skeins of
thism,
smoothing out the tangles and reconnecting every once-rebellious crewman aboard the stolen warliner.

With the sheer force of his will, he brought them back into his fold, one by one. All of them.

His eldest son, the Adar and acting Prime Designate, was in the command nucleus of the rebel warliner. He had believed everything was lost, but now that the Mage-Imperator had recaptured the minds and hearts of all the corrupted soldiers, he was confident the Adar could unify them into a single crew again.

Jora’h opened his smoky topaz eyes and took a deep breath. When the communications channel opened, Zan’nh’s gaunt visage appeared before him. “Liege, we are in your debt. I despaired of ever being so close to the
thism
again. I feel as if I have been falling for many days, and now you’ve caught me.”

Behind his son, the soldiers at their stations looked dazed, but their thoughts were returning. From his own warliner, Jora’h could feel them like tiny lights winking back on in the
thism
after a long and uncomfortable darkness. He could guide them, strengthen the bonds that tied them to the correct mental safety net. But he did not want any of these people to forget their loss and recovery, not for a long time.

The Dobro Designate stood beside Zan’nh in the command nucleus of the rebel warliner, wearing a secretive smile behind the breathing film. “Thank you, Liege. We are already purging the shiing gas from the ship’s ventilation systems. Before long, order will be completely restored.”

“As it should be,” Jora’h transmitted. “This crew is yours again, Adar Zan’nh. They have tasted the poison of Designate Rusa’h. Now use them to help me regain control of what my brother has corrupted.”

Zan’nh placed his fist against the center of his chest in a formal salute, then lowered his gaze as he answered. “Liege, Thor’h has taken the rest of my warliners to conquer other worlds, while Rusa’h sits in his facsimile chrysalis chair on Hyrillka and extends his web.” Now he looked up and his eyes shone. “However, without the warliners,
Hyrillka itself
is militarily vulnerable.”

Jora’h nodded. “Adar Zan’nh, I will personally accompany you, but this cohort is yours to command. We go to Hyrillka immediately. And we finish this.”

Chapter 107—DD

The damaged black ship spun out of control, spiraling away from the system. The reactor explosion had knocked out their engines, and the robotic vessel careened into empty space without guidance or propulsion.

DD thought they might drift forever, cut off from any hope of rescue. Unfortunately, even with Sirix out of commission, and even after so many reanimated machines had been vaporized in the intense reactor meltdown, the little compy was certain the Klikiss robots’ plans would proceed unhindered. The human race was about to encounter an unexpected enemy that intended to cause far more death and destruction than the hydrogues had inflicted so far.

As the ship drifted dizzily, DD adjusted his balance and reacquired his perspective. Beside him, a stunned Sirix came active again, tested the controls of his ship, and assessed the damage. The black robot refused to communicate with DD as he completed his evaluation.

Finished, he turned his optical sensors toward the Friendly compy. “You will accompany me outside the ship, DD. Together, we will complete the necessary repairs on the hull.”

“Is that possible? Do we have the required spare parts?”

“We will fabricate whatever we need.”

DD couldn’t imagine how they could perform any complex reconstruction while the ship spun and tumbled far from the sun. But Sirix had commanded him, and he had no choice but to follow the black robot to a damaged doorway.

From a sealed container, Sirix produced a cluster of tools, metal patchwork, and repair epoxies. “These should be sufficient for your portion of the labors. I will provide you with simple instructions. Your compy programming does not extend to intricate tasks, but I will guide you where necessary.”

Sirix used brute force to pry open the damaged hatch so they could emerge into the empty vacuum. DD dutifully followed, keeping his balance on the scarred hull of the Klikiss ship. His reinforced compy body had endured great extremes, from the impossible pressures within a hydrogue gas planet to the current cold emptiness. Environment was never the problem.

Moving carefully on fingerlike legs, Sirix scuttled across the buckled hull. He instructed DD to remove twisted plates for repair, while he himself worked on more major damage, disconnecting unwieldy engine shafts, stripping away a destroyed sensor array, scanning for deep fractures in the structural frame.

While they worked, the robot transmitted to DD. “Now you see the destructive abilities of humans. They caused this damage. You must acknowledge why we need to eliminate them. They are all our enemies.”

But DD did not follow. “What I observed, Sirix, was that
Klikiss robots
annihilated a human base down on that planetoid in order to 'acquire' materials. Considering what your fellows did, the humans were acting in self-defense.”

“Humans should not have been on our planetoid in the first place. They meddled where they were not wanted.”

“How were they to know this? They received no warnings from you, no notification.”

“You argue about irrelevant things.”

The black robot used his claw arms to disconnect the ruined lump of a rear engine, while DD moved to complete the next task Sirix had given him. Always observant, the compy noted that the plate holding the external engine component was loose, that the Klikiss robot’s balance was precarious as their ship continued to drift drunkenly.

A calculated possibility raced through DD’s mind. He weighed the consequences, discarded concern for his personal safety, and acted.

He had already tested the power and tolerance of the cutting tool he held, knew how long it would take to sever the last connections holding the plate and engine to the spinning ship. While Sirix clambered over the smashed engine, DD melted through the separable hull plate, cutting the whole assembly loose.

He anchored his body to the ship, knowing that when he pushed, the equal and opposite reaction would disorient him. With all the strength his artificial body possessed, DD shoved Sirix and the engine off into open space. In one instant, he sent the black robot off on a divergent course. Soon there was a substantial gap between them. As the ship continued to drift on a different trajectory, the separation grew greater.

DD caught a last glimpse as the Klikiss robot scrambled over the detached component, holding on with his insectile clawed limbs. His tiny island spun farther and farther from the damaged ship.

DD did not know what he was going to do now. He was still stranded, but at least he was free of the Klikiss robot. He expected some sort of transmission from Sirix, a demand for assistance, even an outright threat.

But the black robot remained silent. He scuttled over the moving lump of debris until he faced the ship. Even from a distance, DD could see the gleaming red optical sensors.

Then there was a bright flash of light, a glint of reflected starshine. Sirix had launched a grappling cable from his ellipsoid body core: a hook and an attached line spinning across space.

After an interminable moment, the cable struck the damaged ship and anchored itself magnetically, sealing with an automatic weld. Then Sirix leaped away from the drifting engine and began to reel himself in. The cable drew taut and vibrated as the black robot flew across the gulf of space, closing the gap.

DD hurried to where the cable was attached, knowing the Klikiss robot would destroy him as soon as he made it back to the drifting wreck. Moving as fast as possible, he powered his cutting tool again and attempted to sever the cable. The material was tough, some sort of diamond polymer, but the little compy worked furiously, cutting and cutting. A few strands broke away. Finally the rest of the cable parted.

But by now Sirix had gathered enough momentum. His body slammed into the hull. The beetlelike machine rose up, looming over the small compy under the starlight. His silhouetted form blocked out the misty swath of the Spiral Arm. DD tilted his head back to look at the other machine and prepared for the end of his existence.

Sirix paused for a prolonged moment. At last he said, “Now you begin to see the potential of free actions. However, I must educate you to make better choices in the future.”

With a swift snap like a serpent’s tongue being drawn back into its mouth, Sirix reeled in the ragged end of his cable, then sealed the opening in his body core. The normal set of six articulated arms took its place. “Now help me finish these repairs.”