“Either that, or this isn’t a normal event we’re witnessing.”
“Venting again,” Beaulieu called out. “Same web as the last, barely a hundred metres apart.”
In the
Oenone
’s bridge, Syrinx gave Ruben an alarmed look. “Access all the visual records from the ELINT satellites,” she said. “See what
kind of activity there is in the vent areas prior to the actual event.”
Ruben, Oxley, and Serina nodded in unison. Their minds merged with the bitek memory processors governing the satellites.
“Do we tell Joshua?” Ashly asked.
“Not yet,” Syrinx said. “I don’t want him alarmed. Let’s see if we can confirm the cause first.”
An hour after they began negotiating, Joshua and Quantook-LOU had finalized a list of twenty items to exchange. It was to
be mainly information, formatted to the digital standard used by the Mosdva, with one physical sample of each item to prove
the concept wasn’t merely a boastful lie.
“I’d like to move on to pure data now,” Joshua said. “We’re interested in as much of your history as you’re prepared to release;
astronomical observations, particularly those dealing with the sun’s expansion; any significant cultural works; mathematics;
the biochemical structure of your plant life. More if you’re willing.”
“Is this why you have come?” Quantook-LOU asked.
“I don’t understand.”
“You have ventured around the nebula, sixteen thousand light-years by your own telling. You believed the Tyrathca were all
that lived here. You say you came purely to trade, which I do not believe. There can be no meaningful trade between us, the
distance is too great. At most it would take two or three visits by ships such as yours to level all differences between us.
Your technology is so superior we cannot even scan through your spacesuits to verify you are what you say you are; which means
that any machinery you see here you will be able to understand and duplicate without our assistance. In effect, you are giving
us a multitude of gifts. Yet you are not driven by altruism, you pretend you are here to trade. You persevere in the task
of gaining information from us. Therefore, we ask, what is your true reason for coming to this star?”
“Oh Jesus,” Joshua moaned over their secure communication link. “I’m not half as smart as I thought I was.”
“None of us are, it would seem,” Syrinx said. “Damn, he saw right though our strategy.”
“In itself a useful piece of information,” Ruben said.
“How so?”
“Everything in Anthi-CL is valued in terms of resources. Quantook-LOU controls their distribution, which makes him leader
of the dominion, and he’s also a tough negotiator and diplomat. If those are the traits which make him a good leader, then
that confirms the level of competition which exists among the dominions. We may still have leverage. I would suggest that
now the cat’s out of the bag you play it straight, Joshua. Tell him what we want. Frankly, what have we got to lose at this
point?”
Joshua took a breath. Even with Ruben’s unarguable summary, he couldn’t bring himself to gamble the outcome of their mission
on a xenoc’s generosity. Especially when they had confirmed virtually nothing the Mosdva had told them about Mastrit-PJ’s
history, nor even their own nature. “I congratulate you, Quantook-LOU,” he said. “That is an admirable deduction from such
a small amount of information. Although not entirely correct. I will profit considerably from introducing some of your technology
to the Confederation.”
“Why are you here?”
“Because of the Tyrathca. We want to know where they are, how far their influence extends, how many there are of them.”
“Why?”
“At the moment our Confederation co-exists alongside them. Our leadership believes this situation cannot last forever. We
know they have conquered entire sentient species as they spread from star to star, either enslaving them as they did you,
or exterminating them. We were fortunate that our technology is superior, they did not threaten us when we first encountered
them. But they already have our propulsion systems. Conflict is inevitable if they continue to expand. And any further expansion
must be outward, through our worlds. If we know their extent while our starships remain superior, we may be able to terminate
that threat.”
“What is your propulsion system? How fast do your ships travel?”
“They can jump instantaneously between star systems.”
Quantook-LOU’s reaction was enough for Joshua to class him as human, or as near as made no difference. The xenoc emitted a
piping squeal, the fore and mid limbs clapping urgently against his front torso.
“I am glad I have no eggs in my pouch,” Quantook-LOU said when he had quietened. “I would surely have cracked them.” Marsupial?
Joshua wondered idly.
“Do you realize what you have in your ship, Captain Joshua Calvert? You are our salvation. We considered ourselves trapped
here orbiting this dying star, encircled by our enemies, never to escape as they did. No more.”
“I take it you’d like to acquire our propulsion technology?”
“Yes. Above all things. We will join your Confederation. You have seen our numbers, our ability. Even with our limited resources,
we are vast and powerful. We can build a million warships, a hundred million, and equip them with your propulsion system.
The Tyrathca are slow and stupid, they will never match us in time. Together we can embark on a crusade to rid the galaxy
of their evil.”
“Oh Jesus wept,” Joshua exclaimed over the communication link. “It just keeps getting better. We’re going to let loose a cosmic
genocide if the Mosdva ever get ZTT technology. And I’ve a feeling the four of us might not be allowed back to
Lady Mac
until Quantook-LOU has the relevant data.”
“We can shoot our way through the bubble,” Samuel said. “Get outside and wait in the structure until
Lady Mac
can pick us up.”
“It’s not that stressful,” Liol said. “We can give Quantook-LOU any old file full of shit. Hand over the schematics for a
deluxe, ten-flavour ice cream maker if you want. He’s not going to know the difference until we’re long gone.”
“That’s my brother.”
“Right now, you’ve got more immediate troubles. We think the dominions are having some kind of armed conflict. The number
of tube breeches is reaching epidemic proportions out here.”
“Fucking wonderful.” Joshua scanned round the bubble again. It wouldn’t be too much trouble to break out. And he hadn’t seen
a Mosdva in a spacesuit. Yet. “I am prepared to offer you our propulsion system,” he told Quantook-LOU. “In return, I must
have all your information concerning the Tyrathca flightships and the stars they colonized. This is not negotiable. They were
sending messages back to this star for thousands of years. I want them, and the stellar coordinate system they used. Provide
that for me, and you can have your freedom to roam the galaxy.”
“Obtaining that information will be difficult. The dominion of Anthi-CL does not keep many Tyrathca files of such antiquity.”
“Perhaps other dominions will have what I require.”
Joshua’s suit sensors picked up the agitated movements of the seven other Mosdva in the bubble with them.
“You will not deal with another dominion,” Quantook-LOU said.
“Then find out where that information is kept, and trade for it.”
“I will examine the possibility.” Quantook-LOU used a mid-limb to grasp a pipe rim on the surface of the bubble. Five of the
electronic modules worn on his harness sprouted slim silver cables. Their ends swung round blindly, and they began to wind
through the air with a serpentine wriggle, heading for one of the electronic units bolted to the piping. They plugged themselves
into various sockets, and the pattern of lights on the unit’s surface changed rapidly.
“Crude, but effective,” Ruben commented. “I wonder how far their neural interface technology extends.”
“Captain,” Beaulieu called. “We’re seeing what looks like troop movements around the Anthi-CL dominion.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“Mosdva in spacesuits are crawling along the darkside structure. There is no fabrication or maintenance equipment accompanying
them. They are most agile.”
Joshua didn’t even want to ask what kind of numbers were involved. “Sarha, go to flight readiness status, please. If we need
you, we’ll need you fast.”
“Acknowledged.”
“How long do we wait?” Oski asked.
“Give Quantook-LOU another fifteen minutes. After that, we’re out of here.”
But the Mosdva stirred after only a couple of minutes. Three of his five cables unplugged themselves, and wound back into
their harness modules. “The dominion of Anthi-CL has five files relating to the information you want.”
Joshua held up a communication block. “Transmit them over, we’ll see if that’s enough.”
“I will release the index only. If this is what you require, we must discuss how to complete the exchange.”
“Agreed.” His neural nanonics monitored the short dataflow from the bubble’s electronics into his block. Syrinx and
Oenone
examined the data eagerly.
“Sorry, Joshua,” she said. “These are just records of messages transmitted by the arkships. Standard updates on how the voyages
are progressing. There’s nothing of any relevance here.”
“Any messages sent from Swantic-LI?”
“No, we didn’t even get that lucky.”
“This information is no good,” Joshua told Quantook-LOU.
“There is no more.”
“Five files, in the whole of Tojolt-HI? There must be more.”
“No.”
“Perhaps the other dominions won’t allow you access to their databases. Is that why you’re all at war?”
“You have brought this upon us. It is for you we die. Give me the propulsion system. End all our suffering. Does your species
have no compassion?”
“I have got to have the information.”
“Where the Tyrathca live, what planets they have colonized, is irrelevant now. If we have your propulsion system, they will
never threaten you again. You will have accomplished your aim.”
“I will not give you the propulsion system without receiving the information in exchange. If you cannot provide it, I will
find a dominion that will.”
“You may not deal with another dominion.”
“I do not wish our association to end in threats, Quantook-LOU. Please find the information for me. Surely an alliance with
another dominion is a small price to pay for the freedom of all Mosdva.”
“There is a place on Tojolt-HI,” Quantook-LOU said. “The information you want might still be stored there.”
“Excellent. Then plug in, and make the deal. Anthi-CL has obtained enough new technology from us to buy another dominion.”
“This place has no link to the dominions any more. We expelled it long ago.”
“All right, time to say hello again. We’ll go there and access the files direct.”
“I cannot take you beyond our borders. I no longer know which of our allies remain trustworthy. Our train may not be allowed
to pass.”
“You forget. I’ve already invited you to visit my starship. We’ll fly. It’s quicker.”
______
Valisk continued to fall through the dark continuum. The ebony nebula outside flickered with faint bolts of phosphorescence,
illuminating the giant habitat’s exterior with a feeble glimmer of luminescence as it passed through. Had there been anyone
out there who cared, they would have been saddened by how dilapidated it had become. The girders and panels of the counter-rotating
spaceport appeared to be fraying with age; around the port’s periphery solid matter was decaying into sluggish liquids. Large
dank droplets dripped away from the eroded, tapering ends of titanium support struts, gusting away into the depths of the
nebula.
Intense cold was punishing the polyp shell badly, devouring the internal heat faster than it could be replenished. Slim cracks
were opening up everywhere across the surface, some of them deep enough to reach the outer mitosis layer. Thick tar-like liquids
bubbled up through them in places, staining the outer surface an insalubrious sable. Occasionally a chip of polyp would flake
away from the edge of a new fissure, drifting away listlessly, as though velocity too was subject to increased entropy. Worst
of all, twelve jets of air were fountaining undiminished out of broken starscraper windows, spraying the icy gas in long wavering
arcs. They’d been there for days, acting like a beacon for any new OrgathÉ who glided out of the nebula’s labyrinthine nucleus.
The big creatures would squirm their way through to the interior, blocking the blast for a few seconds as they crammed in
through the empty rim.
Erentz and her relatives all knew about the shrinking atmosphere, but there was nothing they could do to halt it. The darkling
habitat cavern belonged to the OrgathÉ and all the other creatures they’d brought with them. In theory the humans could have
made their way to the starscrapers via the tube lines and water ducts. But even if they managed to seal up some of the breaches,
the arriving OrgathÉ would simply smash through new windows.
Five caverns deep in the northern endcap had become the last refuge of the surviving humans, chosen because each one had only
a couple of entrances. The defenders had adopted a Horatius strategy. A few people armed with flame throwers and incendiary
torpedo launchers stood shoulder to shoulder and saturated the passageway with fire whenever one of the creatures tried to
get through. Human ghosts hung back during each battle, waiting until the creature retreated before they scampered forward
to absorb the sticky fluid it had shed, giving themselves substance again. They formed a strange alliance with the living
humans, warning them when one of the dark-continuum creatures was approaching. Though none of them could be persuaded to do
anything else.
“Can’t say I blame them,” Dariat told Tolton. “We’re as much a target to the creatures as anybody else.” He was one of the
very few solid ghosts allowed in the refuge caverns. And even he preferred to skulk about in the small chamber Dr Patan and
his team used rather than face the ailing, strung-out bulk of the population.