Nova War (38 page)

The coreship’s crew made their calculations: the main shock-wave would reach them in just under twelve hours’ time. They endured a barrage of queries and threats from Bluegas’s orbital habitats; the Bandati there already knew something was happening, but just what, they weren’t being told.

There was no time to decelerate, to rescue any of the inhabitants of those habitats. The time needed to pick up refugees would seal the fate not only of the coreship, but of an onboard population numbering in the millions.

The shockwave reached Ironbloom within a few minutes, superheating the atmosphere on the sunwards-facing side to just shy of a hundred thousand degrees centigrade. Storms of a kind unseen since the planet’s formation ground the Hive Towers of Darkwater to dust, while secondary shockwaves moving at hypersonic speeds spread the destruction to the planet’s night-side, annihilating anything standing more than a few metres above the ground.

Before very long, Ironbloom’s atmosphere was torn away like peel from an orange. Superheated particles that had once been the towers, mountains, rivers and oceans of Night’s End were caught up in the shockwave and carried further out towards the rest of the dying system.

Further out, the gas giant Dusk was far larger than the rocky inner worlds, and so took a lot longer to die. When its moon, Blackflower, finally emerged from its parent’s shadow, it was burning with a bright incandescence. Hundreds of ships from the cities orbiting the moon tried to escape by driving hard towards the outer system, while staying as long as possible within Dusk’s cone of shadow. But even that was shrinking as the gas giant’s atmosphere was stripped away at an accelerating pace.

The coreship had finished its close pass of Bluegas and was already swinging outwards once more on an arc tangential to the expanding nova. As communications traffic first from Dusk and then from spacecraft and habitats further and further out failed, it became clear that time was running out.

Twelve hours after the nova drone had first torn out the brightly burning heart of Night’s End, the plasma shockwave finally reached Bluegas. Two of its moons, composed primarily of compacted rock and ice, were the first to go; the shockwave’s temperature had dropped exponentially by the time it had travelled this far, but it was still many times hotter than the surface of the star that birthed it.

Bluegas’s densely populated orbital cities winked out of existence one after another, like fireflies coming too close to an open fire. The nearby coreship had barely finished powering up its drive spines when the shockwave reached it a few moments later.

Within a few hours, news of the destruction of an entire, heavily populated system began to spread. Reports, pictures and rumours flooded the open tach-nets. Within the Consortium itself most of the initial stories were dismissed as fabrications, but it wasn’t long before it became clear that communications out of the Night’s End system had come to an abrupt halt.

Details of what had taken place spread along other, less public lines of communication, all the way to the Consortium’s highest administrative levels. Across more than a dozen human worlds, government officials, military strategists and special scientific advisory staff-members were roused from what would be the last peaceful sleep some of them would ever enjoy as the seriousness of what had happened became clearer.

Even so, few were in a position to recognize that this was merely the latest exchange in an ancient conflict – one that had suddenly gained the potential to eradicate the Milky Way of life.

Twenty-nine

‘You’ve suffered severe malnutrition and shock as well as radiation damage,’ Chavez informed him. ‘It’s going to take more than a medbox to fix all that, as well as some of the extensive scarring and—’

Corso dropped the data-sheet onto the bed beside him and let his head fall back, taking in the rest of the medical bay. ‘I already said I want to keep the scars,’ he told the medician. ‘Including the ones on my face.’

Chavez gave him a doubtful look. He still looked young to Corso, but he’d learned that the medician had been through an ordeal nearly as bad as his own aboard the orbital station at Leviathan’s Fall. Almost the entire Consortium expeditionary force that had boarded the Bandati colony was now dead, including General Hua. The sole surviving Consortium frigate in Ocean’s Deep had taken a severe battering during the fighting, and its crew was lucky to be alive. They were
all
lucky to be alive.

‘Is this some kind of Freeholder warrior thing?’ Chavez asked.

‘It’s a reminder, to make sure I don’t make any more really stupid mistakes.’

He could hear voices – orders barked and random conversations, dopplering up and down the corridor extending beyond the door behind Chavez – from the crew of the
Casseia Andris,
now docked with the Leviathan’s Fall station.

‘People keep asking . . .’ the medician paused.

‘If this is about Dakota or Nova Arctis, you know I’m not allowed to talk about it,’ Corso pointed out gently.

The medician’s face reddened slightly. ‘Sure. Of course. But there’s so many rumours flying around.’ He shrugged. ‘Stories you hear.’

Corso wondered briefly how much money the medician had been offered. They were stranded light-years from the nearest inhabited star system, but the
Casseia Andris
’
s
tach-net transceivers still allowed for zero-lag communications with the Consortium Legislate.

Perhaps inevitably, there had been a leak.

The Shoal had departed Ocean’s Deep as suddenly as they had appeared, shortly after the destruction of the station ring holding the Magi ship. The Emissary Godkiller had been reduced to a burned-out ruin, drifting cold and silent through the outer system.

That there was a human presence in a star system well outside of the known Shoal trade routes was now apparently an open secret. The Legislate was being hammered with questions from every world within the Consortium, and every tach-net-linked media agency in existence. And when the Legislate refused to supply adequate answers, a thousand conspiracy theories sprang up to take the place of hard facts. A man like Chavez here stood to make a fortune by throwing just a little light on what was really going on. Whether he’d ever get home to spend it was another question.

And on top of all that, there were the two Magi ships now within the system. The first one had briefly disappeared at first, jumping out of normal space after boosting away from Leviathan’s Fall, before returning less than a day later. And then a
second
Magi ship had appeared from out of nowhere, rapidly taking up orbit around Leviathan’s Fall.

Chavez started, his eyes focusing on some unseen horizon in the way people did when they were receiving a communication. ‘I have to go,’ he said a moment later. ‘If there’s anything you need—’

You could try not locking me in here like I’m a prisoner,
Corso thought. He was constantly being assured that this was only a matter of security, and that he wasn’t under arrest. And yet, the fact remained that the door stayed locked.

Instead he muttered, ‘I’ll be fine.’

And then he was alone.

He picked up the data-sheet once more and reread the words he’d been dictating when Chavez had interrupted.

I knew I wasgoing to die the day we went to Fire Lake to meet Bull Northcutt.

That didn’t feel right.

He cleared the screen and dictated a new sentence:
We drove over the crest of Fire Lake on our way to meet Bull Northcutt.

Still not right.

He put the sheet down with a sigh.

The last thing he remembered, he’d crawled inside the
Piri Reis,
severely wounded and bleeding to death. But when the
Piri Reis
had been recovered, floating free and vacuum-breached, and in a decaying orbit around Leviathan’s Fall, they’d found him sealed into the ship’s medbox – one of the few systems still functioning on board the tiny vessel.

Maybe he’d crawled inside the thing himself, and just couldn’t remember. It was possible – but he didn’t believe it.

Something caught his attention from out of the corner of his eye. He glanced back down at the data-sheet and saw new words appearing just below the words he’d dictated.

HELLO LUCAS. ARE YOU RECEIVING VISITORS? – DAK

‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ he whispered.

Then he heard a commotion in the corridor beyond the medical bay. An alarm started wailing somewhere nearby. Even the damned lights flickered like there’d been a power surge – or a hit on the ship. He pushed his blankets away and stood up, carefully, unconsciously pulling his injured arm in close to his belly as he walked over to the door.

To his surprise, it slid open without any problem. The last half-dozen times he’d tried, it had stayed resolutely shut. It revealed a wide passageway decorated in the silver-and-blue livery of the Consortium Defence Forces. Chavez was standing opposite, staring at a set of pressure doors at the far end of the corridor. A trooper seated nearby, clearly left there to guard Corso, was gaping in the same direction with as much confusion as Chavez.

Chavez started when he realized the door to the medical bay was now open. The alarm stopped, leaving a ringing silence, and the pressure doors slid open. A Defence Forces Colonel came striding in fast, barking orders at Corso’s guard.

Dakota stepped in right behind the Colonel, looking as relaxed as if taking a stroll on a sunny day. Behind her, maintaining what Corso could only regard as a cautious distance, followed at least a dozen more troopers in matt-grey armour, their weapons held at the ready.

Pandemonium instantly ensued.

Everyone seemed to be shouting at everyone else. Chavez began heatedly berating the Colonel, who was divided between shouting back at the medic and at the trooper set to guard Corso.

Dakota walked past all three of them and gestured towards the interior of the medical bay behind Corso.

‘Let’s talk,’ she said.

‘Nobody’s going to bother us,’ Dakota reassured him, hopping up onto the side of Corso’s bed with one leg dangling. He stood with his back to the closed door, and could still hear the Colonel arguing with Chavez.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ Corso demanded, finally finding his voice. ‘All I get asked is What does she want,
What does she want,
like I’m your fucking spokesperson. I . . . I . . .’

He trailed off and she smiled. He realized she looked happier and healthier than at any time since he’d first met her.

‘I just got back from negotiations with Colonel Leidner,’ she told him. ‘I get the impression they’ve been keeping you very much in the dark all this time.’

Assuming that Leidner had been put in charge of the surviving Consortium forces following Hua’s death, Corso shrugged non-committally and flopped into the visitor’s chair. ‘You could say that. So they just let you walk in here?’

‘Once I demonstrated to them how easily I could take control of this ship, yes.’

‘All right, Dakota, you’re obviously here for a reason. What do you want from me?’

‘I want you to trust me.’

He was about to retort sharply, but stopped when he saw the look on her face. He saw the same fragility there he’d noticed the first time he’d ever set eyes on her, back on the bridge of the
Hyperion.

‘All right, Dakota, I’m listening.’

‘I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, Lucas. Not even got close to it. And I’ve made mistakes. I know that. But I want you to know I don’t hold it against you, what you tried to do back at Night’s End. We’ve both faced challenges I don’t think either of us could have imagined even a couple of months ago. But what’s more important than that is that this isn’t over yet.’

Corso cocked his head. ‘The Emissaries are gone. The Shoal abandoned us here and vanished. They—’

‘We won a battle, but not the war. And believe me when I tell you that war’s on its way here right now. We need to be ready – not just you and me, but the whole Consortium. Leidner doesn’t really believe what I’m saying to him, and when I talk to the Legislate Representatives back in the Consortium, they just treat me like I’m insane. Instead they keep making demands, but if they don’t listen soon, we’re all dead.’

She leaned forward beseechingly, any trace of a smile gone from her lips. ‘You’ve seen at least some of the skills I have, Lucas, and no one else understands them as well as you do. I really need your help.’

Corso raised his hands and dropped them again. ‘There’s nothing I can do, Dakota. We’re stranded way out here, and the Shoal aren’t around any more to take us back . . . unless you’re going to do it?’

Dakota leaned back. ‘I can expand the jump field of any Magi ship so that it’ll carry other ships on superluminal jumps, same as we did with the
Piri Reis.
You’ll all get back home. But in the meantime, there’s even more to worry about. Have they told you about what happened with the coreships that were carrying human populations?’

Corso shook his head.

‘They dumped their human and Bandati populations
en masse
in systems that can barely sustain their existing populations, before apparently abandoning us for ever,’ she told him.

‘Shit.’ Corso sat up straighter, wondering just how much news of the outside world had been kept from him. ‘The coreships are gone?’

She nodded. ‘People are scared right now, but you have to reassure them that it’s going to get better eventually, even if it’s going to be hard for a good while yet. There are a lot more Magi ships on the way, but it’ll take months before the last of them gets here. I want to get started on setting up a superluminal network, using the Magi ships, to keep the Consortium together now the Shoal seem to have abandoned this part of the galaxy.’

Corso opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again.
‘More
Magi ships?’

‘About a thousand.’

Corso simply stared in amazement.

‘The Magi Fleet,’ she explained, ‘turned out to be a lot bigger than anyone realized. I’ve recalled them all to Ocean’s Deep, and at least a dozen more should get here over the next couple of weeks.’

‘And then?’

And then I’m going to train new navigators for them.’

‘Oh.’ The implications took a few moments to sink in. ‘You’re talking about machine-heads.’

‘I’m talking about
candidates,’
she insisted. ‘Just having the implants isn’t enough, but the original machine-heads – the ones who still have their implants, anyway – we can start with. My old tutor is one. He told me he met you, briefly’

‘Langley.’ Corso nodded. ‘I’m glad he got out of that mess alive,’ he added.

She leaned forward, clearly excited by her vision. ‘A peacekeeping force, Lucas. One that can cross the galaxy if necessary, help maintain lines of communication, control traffic and trade, and most especially stop any wars before they can happen. A thousand machine-heads, a lot of them rejected by the society that made them – a way back for them, after the Redstone massacres and all the mistrust. Myself and the rest of these new navigators will share the responsibility for moving people and supplies between the colonies. And some of those colonies simply can’t survive without regular contact with Earth and the older settlements.’

‘You know that the first question people are going to ask is who you yourself are going to be responsible to. Who do you answer to, Dakota?’

‘Myself and the other machine-heads will be custodians of the technology, Lucas. The Consortium, the Bandati, whoever – they’ll have to come to us. We’ll lease out the technology, but we’ll always control it and protect it.’

Lucas snorted and shook his head. ‘This is like some wet dream of absolute power. You’re no better than the Shoal.’

‘You’ve seen what happens when a bunch of different power groups came close enough to getting their hands on a prize like this. It’s just too dangerous to entrust any of them with it.’

Corso looked away from her. ‘There are people out there who think you’re responsible for what happened to Night’s End. An entire civilization was wiped out.’

‘That wasn’t me.’

‘You’re hardly lacking for a motive, are you? They locked you up, tortured you. You already killed thousands of them when you made a Magi ship self-destruct.’

‘It wasn’t
me.
’

He looked back up at her. ‘Then you’re going to have to deal with the fact that nothing you do is necessarily going to make you popular, Dakota. It’s not like they’re lining up to give you medals or the keys to the city, even as it is.’

‘No. No, they aren’t,’ she agreed, swinging her feet back down to the floor. ‘But I just can’t think what else to do.’

‘And that’s what you want me to tell the Consortium?’

‘No.’ Her voice grew quieter again. ‘I want you to take charge, Lucas.’

‘What?’ He gaped at her, thunderstruck.

‘I’m going away for a while – not just yet, but eventually. The Magi weren’t just looking for the caches; they were also looking for the creatures that created them in the first place – the Makers. They were close to getting the answers when the Shoal wiped them out.’ She shrugged. ‘Now I want to get those answers myself, if I can. But somebody needs to take care of things back here while I’m gone – just to organize, set up the network to bind the Consortium together. We can use the Leviathan’s Fall station for a temporary base, since there are no habitable worlds here for us to endanger by our presence.’

‘Shit, Dakota. I don’t know what you expect
me
to do. I don’t know how to organize anything like this, or where to even start. I mean’ – he raised his hands in bewilderment – ‘how do you know they won’t take it all away from me as soon as you’re gone?’