The Line of Polity (68 page)

Cloud banks lay below them like a mountain range of crystal sulphur and snow, with jade ocean glimpsed far below through deep crevasses. Above this they hurtled further into space that could never get completely dark because of the Braemar moons suspended like lanterns, and behind them, the shining glass sculpture of the distant nebula. Cormac registered U-chargers powering up then on a subscreen and observed vapour explosions as the ship's lasers obliterated obstacles that were too small to be visible but large enough to punch holes through the hull. Operating the steering thrusters, Jarvellis took the ship swaying to one side to pass a lump of wreckage resembling half a piano made of polished aluminium. For a short while the lasers continued operating at full capacity, though not well enough, for they could hear the sharp bullet-cracks of impacts.

"Lyric, damage?" Jarvellis spat, when these impacts finally ceased.

"Four micropunctures, now sealed. One large hole in the hydraulic cylinder for landing foot two. I've shut off the hydraulic fluid supply to it, but cannot repair. We need to space dock for that," the AI explained.

"Be glad of the chance," Jarvellis muttered, glancing at Cormac.

He was observing the display that noted their speed in kilometres per hour. Now pushing twenty-five thousand, he saw that they had achieved escape velocity, and that now the arc of the horizon was dropping below them.

Stanton confirmed this for them by asking, "What now, Agent? What do we do now?"

"Depending on the circumstances, it would take about an hour for the underspace disturbance created by a ship this size to disperse." He turned to Jarvellis. "Get the
Occam
up on the main screen, will you."

Jarvellis did as requested, and soon the Polity dreadnought filled the main screen, looming utterly clear now in the clarity of vacuum. For a second Cormac allowed himself misgivings: Skellor had so obviously moved far beyond anything Cormac himself could easily judge or understand, let alone manipulate.

"One hour at the present velocity will take us far enough out of the well for you to use U-space engines. You don't need greater velocity?" he asked.

"No. We have modern engines on this
Lyric,
" Jarvellis replied tartly.

"Okay ... if you use your fusion engine—"

"Fusion mode," Jarvellis interrupted. "The engines are dual-function: ionic and fusion."

"Whatever," said Cormac, irritated. "If you use fusion mode, how quickly will you be able to go under?"

"Ten minutes, maybe less. Lyric?"

The AI replied, "Seven minutes and thirty seconds ... mark."

"Use fusion," said Cormac, "for the last few seconds — and in those last few seconds I want you to send a message for me as well."

"Just say it, and Lyric will record it," Jarvellis told him.

Cormac cleared his throat and addressed the image on the screen. "Skellor, it seems you missed me again, but I guess mistakes are to be expected from an intelligence stretched so far beyond its capacity. Now I want to make you an offer: come and work with the Polity on studying the technology you now control. All previous misdemeanours can be forgotten, since you know that Polity AIs do not countenance vengeance, and in exchange for what you now possess, you could have almost anything you ask for." Cormac glanced round at Stanton, who seemed set to explode. He continued, "I do understand that you will not want to compromise your safety. When I arrive, I'll send a message to that effect into the Polity, and you can thenceforth communicate with ECS yourself and make the right arrangements. Please give this offer serious consideration. Message ends."

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Stanton growled.

"Trust me," said Cormac, then smiled at the rustling of material that told him Stanton had just drawn his weapon. He went on, "What did I just say to him?"

"You offered him anything he wants," said Stanton.

"I also said 'When I arrive, I'll send a message to the Polity', so what do you think he'll work out from that?"

Stanton thought for a moment then said, "He'll know you're not going right into Polity space."

"Precisely, so he'll think he still has a chance of silencing me," said Cormac. "And when he moves to pick up our trail, and tries to follow us through U-space, he'll see that this is true."

"You haven't told me our destination yet," said Jarvellis.

Cormac now told her.

So engrossed had Skellor been in the underground battle that he felt a surge of panic as in a microsecond he became aware of fusion spillover from a 'ware field. Immediately he put the relevant laser battery online, whilst experiencing huge loathing and contempt for himself. With all his available sensors he had watched out for Polity technology, and so just not expected anything else. That was his own damned chameleonware on some small ship, and it had nearly got the vessel past him. Targeting the calculated centre of the 'ware effect, he immediately became suspicious: why was he seeing fusion spillover now? It seemed almost as if the pilot of that ship wanted to be seen. Then Cormac's message arrived and Skellor screamed with rage at his own stupidity, and fired his lasers, only to see their blast igniting vapour over a fading U-space signature.

Skellor immediately engaged the
Occam's
fusion engines to take him out of low orbit. As he did this, he imposed self-control and re-examined the content of the man's message.

'
When I arrive I'll send a message to the Polity
' was a provocative phrase. Skellor felt it was a ploy to get him to follow the ship to some dangerous destination on the Line. Yet there could be no trap laid there, because no one outside of this system knew anything about him. Hammering up towards the rapidly fading signature, Skellor probed and was further bewildered when he discovered what the little ship's destination was.

What did this Agent Cormac think he could achieve by leading Skellor there?

It took Skellor a huge adjustment of perspective to understand what was happening: if he did not pursue, then Cormac would get to the Polity and Skellor's secret would be out. If he did pursue, the chase would take him two solstan months, and in that time the Polity would be sure to have gone to Masada to find out what had happened to its people — and to this very ship — and again the secret would be out. Obliquely, Skellor realized what he was truly being offered. Cormac was sacrificing himself for this remote world. The agent realized Skellor would never follow the trispherical ship anywhere under Polity control, as that would be suicide for him, thus Cormac would not now be heading into Polity space. The circumstances were such that Skellor had a choice: he could stay here and incinerate this world, or he could follow the ship and capture Ian Cormac. Without a second thought Skellor dropped the
Occam Razor
into underspace.

"Pull back! Pull back into Pillartown One!"

The man with the still-working coms helmet who was loudly relaying Lellan's orders let his gaze stray from the air above him for too long. Two calloraptors hit him simultaneously and dragged him screaming up into the middle of their flock, where his screams were soon curtailed as they ripped him apart. With the taste of bile in his mouth and with his hands shaking, Apis quickly changed the energy canister of his pulse-rifle. It was an automatic action — which he had done six times already. Long before he, Eldene and Fethan had arrived, the battle had become a diffuse and chaotic thing, for the calloraptors, once through the cavern door, had room to take to the air and attack at will from overhead.

"Where is Pillartown One?" he asked Eldene, as she fired several short bursts overhead. She pointed to a building beyond the hovering raptors, then led the way.

Watching his footing on the rocky terrain — for he still feared falling over more than physical attack — he followed Eldene as she continued firing short bursts upwards. He saw she was certainly a better shot than himself when one burst she fired separated a raptor's wing, and the creature came thwacking like a broken sail to the cavern floor. Before it even hit the ground, three dracomen were upon it and tearing it apart. Apis noticed that one of them wore a weapons harness, and he wondered if that might be Scar. Difficult to tell, for they were all so similar. It had taken some time, and much reassurance from Lellan, for the rebel forces to realize they were friendly. However, though they made ferocious allies, they could not fly.

"We have to move faster!" Eldene yelled.

Glancing aside, Apis saw the rebel forces in full retreat. He ran to keep up with Eldene, ducking a claw that passed dangerously close to his head, then ducking the dracoman that leapt straight up in front of him. The thump from above told him that it had seized its prey, and he glanced back to see dracoman and calloraptor hit the ground in a flailing bundle.

"Keep moving!" shouted Fethan, sprinting past. Apis broke into a run again, till soon he was back abreast of Fethan and Eldene.

To either side of them, commingled rebel forces and dracomen were retreating under the onslaught from above. The running seemed to go on interminably, with the pillartown seemingly always distant from them. Then, as if he was coming out of some nightmare, Apis found himself in its shadow, and saw rebels and dracomen ducking through the shattered doors ahead of him. Driven wild by the prospect of their prey escaping, the raptors descended in vicious onslaught.

"Watch out!" Fethan yelled.

Apis ducked, and the creature went straight over him, and knocked Eldene to the ground. Apis leapt forward, and slammed himself into the raptor just as it was trying to drag Eldene upwards. He brought it down and, pinning it underneath himself, he emptied his rifle into the monster's chest. Fire flared underneath him, and claws closed on his leg. He felt himself being jerked up, but with his head towards the ground, and with horror saw the one he had just eviscerated with fire flapping to its feet, with fibrous pink chyme welling up in the burn holes on its midsection, then going for Eldene a second time. Hauling himself up, Apis swung his weapon with all the force he could muster, smashing one of his own assailant's wing joints, and both he and it crashed to the ground. His rifle gone now, he was defenceless as the raptor loomed over him, its triple mouth opening to tear off his face.

"Fuck you!"

His fist smacked hard into its double-keeled chest, and it coughed. He thought of
Miranda,
and hit it again in exactly the same place. As something gave under his fist, he assumed it was his own bones breaking. Amazingly the raptor continued coughing. He struck it again, now thinking of all those who had died on the
General Patten
. Then for his mother, he followed that blow with one up and under the monster's ugly head, then another ... then another. It suddenly seemed to go soft on him. He felt its neck snap, saw its flesh tearing — that pinkish chyme welling up to make repairs.

"And double fuck you!" he yelled, remembering one of Gant's favoured curses. His next blow tore the creature's head from its body.

Apis did not allow himself time to feel appalled at what he had just done, he turned and immediately went for the one attacking Eldene. By then the dracomen had realized where the rebels were heading and had closed in. During the confused and vicious fight that followed, all the rebels were soon undercover, and dracomen manned the doors, joyfully countering any intruding raptors.

"Skellor programmed 'em to attack and kill, but not much beyond that," observed Fethan. "They're at a disadvantage when they land." He then turned to inspect Apis thoughtfully. "Take it you finally got over your fear of falling."

Apis fought to recover his breath, still not quite believing what he was now capable of doing, even though he had worked it all out. That was the Jain nano-mycelium working inside him — likely the very same stuff that effected such rapid repairs to those raptor creatures. Even though the same tech worked inside, he had beaten the creature simply because its strength was related to its density, so the raptor could not be as strong as himself since it needed to be light enough to fly. After a moment Apis stood upright and noticed Eldene was watching him with something approaching awe. He turned back to Fethan. "If they keep having to land in order to attack, the dracomen will eventually get them all," he suggested.

"Only thing to stop them fighting themselves to death would be a bit of Skellor's reprogramming," said Fethan with satisfaction.

"There's nothing to stop him doing that remotely," Apis stated.

"I doubt he can do it from underspace," replied Fethan with a grin.

"He's gone? Skellor's gone?"

"That's the word, boy. That's the word," Fethan replied.

Apis could only believe it as he watched raptor after raptor land outside and enter the building, only to be torn apart by the waiting dracomen, and as what had been a desperate fight in the open devolved into a slaughter — an extermination.

Lyric II
spun out of underspace, exciting a photonic trail, before its fusion engines ignited to decelerate it down into the system. Being identified as one of the numerous large cargo ships that usually arrived at and departed from the sprawling structures coming into view, its AI was soon queried by a local AI, its presence noted and directions given, then it was all but forgotten. Aboard the ship, Cormac sipped hot coffee and tried to shake off the last dregs of cold-sleep that seemed to clog his head with wet tissue-paper. So much would depend on what happened in the next few minutes that, in his present debilitated state, he was finding it difficult to accept it all as real. Eyeing Stanton and Jarvellis, he saw that they were having no such problems accepting reality: she appeared white and ill, while her partner wore an expression of grim determination.

"He may not be prepared to take any more risks with us." Stanton at last voiced what they were all thinking. "If he fires on us as soon as he surfaces, that's it — all over."

"But he won't," said Cormac with a confidence he did not feel. "He'll want to gloat, if only for a few minutes, and while he does that we'll be sending
our
message on ahead. I would even bet he'll open communications with us in the hope of getting some response out of me."