Empire Of Light Part 23

She watched the main doors of the hold swing slowly open, splitting into four quarter-circle slices and revealing a widening cross of starry black. Trader's yacht hung at the void's centre, growing slowly larger as it slowly manoeuvred itself inside the hold.

The yacht was the colour of parchment. Its drive-spines sparkled under the hold's powerful lights. It moved to one side as the doors began to swing closed again, waiting until the grapples took hold of it, pulling it in towards an empty cradle.

Dakota touched a comms terminal, and a moment later a soft chime told her a link had been established with the craft.

'Welcome aboard, Trader.'

'Greetings and felicitations, dear Dakota. Awareness comes upon me that the frigate is refusing to extend an airlock connection to my yacht. May I ask why?'

'You're going to have to stay where you are for the duration of the voyage. Senator Corso made himself very clear on that point.'

'Ah, Lucas Corso. I have heard news of his hard journey up life's stream these recent years. His teeth have grown; now become a predator rather than prey. I gather you've had an opportunity to use the Meridian drones already?'

'I did, yes. Are you sure you trust me with that kind of firepower?'

'I think of our relationship as symbiotic, Dakota. Our need for each other a.s.sures mutual trust. But even those drones aren't quite enough for our purposes. This frigate remains extremely vulnerable to direct attack, so I propose we acquire shielding of a far more advanced type than that currently available to you.'

'Where from?'

The Mjollnir' Mjollnir's primary stacks alerted Dakota to new data, squirted over from the Shoal-member's yacht. She tested the data for traps, and, on finding none, dropped it behind a firewall within the terminal's memory. It turned out to be a set of coordinates for a system located a few thousand light-years further along their projected trajectory, close to the edge of the spiral arm and not far from the region of the Long War.

'The system in question requires a slight detour, but that shouldn't add more than a few days to our journey time,' Trader explained. 'And Dakota . . . please reconsider allowing me on board, as I would very much like to see the Mos Hadroch. I have waited a long time for that, and I want to demonstrate that I can be trusted.'

It was surely just her imagination that she detected a strain of wistfulness behind the machine-tones of his translation system.

'Not a chance in h.e.l.l,' she replied. 'I had enough trouble persuading Lucas to let you even get this near.'

'No one enters the arena of battle without making sure their weapons are fully operational, Dakota. If the Mos Hadroch is a gun, only I have the trigger. We need to test it before we can implement it.'

The d.a.m.n fish had a point, she realized. 'I'll talk to him,' she replied. 'That's all I can do. But he's still not going to go for it.' She shifted in her seat and waited for Trader's reply.

Corso had ramped the security systems up to full alert in preparation for the Shoal-member's arrival, and put Nancy Schiller to work at rejigging the primary command systems to make them even more hack-proof than they already were.

'Then it appears I am trapped between the crushing depths and the deadly air,' Trader finally conceded. 'You should be aware that when we reach our final destination, I won't be able to control the Mos Hadroch at a distance. Will you keep it from me even then, Dakota?'

'No,' she replied. 'Not when that time comes. Of course,' she added, 'you could just tell us how to activate it ourselves. Then you wouldn't need to come along at all.'

Dakota smiled to herself as a long pause followed.

'I believe we understand each other,' Trader finally replied. 'Goodbye for now, Dakota.'

'Wait.' She put out a hand, forgetting Trader couldn't see her. 'There's something I want to ask you.'

'Yes?'

'On my way to the swarm I came across hundreds of destroyed Atn clade-worlds. But most of them were destroyed long before the Mos Hadroch was supposedly created.'

'Your point?'

'At first I a.s.sumed the swarm attacked those clade-worlds because it suspected the Mos Hadroch could be hidden on one of them, but clearly the Atn and the swarm have been at war for much, much longer than that. Why is that? Or is the Mos Hadroch older than I thought?'

'We all live amongst the ruins of our predecessors, Dakota. There are wars that began when the first stars were young, and will not end even with the death of the last star. Both the swarms and the Atn began their own existence as weapons on either side of a long-forgotten war but the Atn forgot their original purpose. Does this satisfy your curiosity?'

'Yes.' Dakota pushed herself out of her chair and took one last look out into the bay. 'Goodbye, Trader.'

'I have been monitoring communications traffic from Redstone, Dakota. I know that you destroyed your own ship.'

Dakota gripped the back of the seat she had just vacated. 'Yes, I had no choice. You already know why.'

'It is always better to be the master of your own destiny, is it not? And yet I imagine it must have been a painful decision. I imagine it must make you feel very lonely.'

She let go of the chair and drifted over to the window, suddenly breathing hard. She could just make out her reflection, floating like a ghost over the interior of the bay, and she fought an urge to activate the drones again, to burn Trader's ship in its cradle.

'More than you can imagine,' she replied, and left.

Chapter Twenty-one.

Not long after Trader rendezvoused with the frigate, Corso paid a visit to the labs.

'Figure out how the h.e.l.l the thing works, Whitecloud. Or at least how it might might work. That's your job as long as you're on board the work. That's your job as long as you're on board the Mjollnir. Mjollnir. You'll eat here and sleep here in the lab, as well. Is that understood?' You'll eat here and sleep here in the lab, as well. Is that understood?'

It was the first private conversation they had had, and Corso clearly had not been in the mood for making friends or wasting time with pseudonyms when no one else was around. There were dark rings under the Senator's eyes, and Ty had been aware of the frenetic level of activity following their departure from Redstone, while he himself had been safely ensconced in what had now become the familiar confines of the frigate's laboratory complex.

Ty gazed around the low-lit lab as if he might find the right answer there. 'But won't people ask questions if I don't take quarters with the rest of them? I mean, there's plenty of room in the centrifuge-'

'No.' Corso stabbed a finger at Ty's chest. 'I don't want you mixing with the rest of my people.'

'All right, but what about the hull repairs? There are only nine of us apart from the alien, and drive-spines deteriorate badly over long jumps. If I don't join the repair rota with the rest of them, they're going to ask why.'

Corso clearly did not enjoy having to concede this point. 'Fine, I'll make sure you're on the rota so no one asks questions. But you stay put here the rest of the time, regardless. If anyone asks, it's because you're a selfless scientist who just can't tear himself away from his work. Just remember, Mr Whitecloud, the only reason you're still alive is because my people intervened on your behalf back at Ascension. That still doesn't mean you didn't deserve a bullet in the back of your head. So, while you're on this ship with me, you do exactly as I say or I will will make life seriously f.u.c.king unpleasant for you. Am I clear?' make life seriously f.u.c.king unpleasant for you. Am I clear?'

Ty again looked around the laboratory. 'But what if I can't figure out how the Mos Hadroch works?' he stammered. 'What then?'

Corso came up close, grabbing a fistful of Ty's shirt.

'Think of it this way, Ty. This is a chance for you to exonerate yourself. The fact is, we're all fugitives here, and chances are none of us is ever going to see home again. But if we do do get out of this . . .' Corso let go, putting one hand on Ty's chest and pushing him away. 'If we do, then you'll still be Nathan Driscoll.' get out of this . . .' Corso let go, putting one hand on Ty's chest and pushing him away. 'If we do, then you'll still be Nathan Driscoll.'

'So you're saying you'll let me go when the time comes.'

'I'll give you a chance to disappear. But G.o.d help you if Dakota or any of the others ever work out who you are before then.'

Corso pushed himself towards the airlock and grabbed a handhold next to it. 'Let's face it,' he added, looking back over at Ty, 'it's not like you'd have anywhere to hide if they did.'

Ty laughed, and Corso stared back at him, speechless.

'Did you know I was conscripted, Mr Corso? The Uchidans put me into military R&D and ordered me to work on one tiny part of a project that employed dozens of researchers. I'm not denying I had at least some responsibility for what happened back on Redstone it was easy to guess the strategists were planning something big in advance of the Consortium forces arriving, but my rank was much too low for me to be told anything more than what was strictly necessary. The people who actually planned and implemented the counter-attack were never required to face a Legislate tribunal, only the technical staff. We were scapegoats, nothing more.'

Corso pushed himself back over towards him. Ty flinched, but the Senator came to a halt a few metres away by placing one hand against a bulkhead.

'I've read your file, Ty. You can't tell me you were only following orders. It's not an excuse, never has been. Hundreds died.'

'If I could go back in time and make things different, I would. I used to fantasize about how things might have been if I'd made different choices. You said I had a chance to exonerate myself, and that's all I've wanted, all these years. I'm not a monster, Mr Corso. I just want you to understand that.'

Ty drew in a breath, and waited. The other man's expression was unreadable.

'Actions count more than words, Ty,' Corso said finally, twisting around until he faced the airlock once more. 'Find out how the Mos Hadroch works, and you'll help save a lot of lives. Maybe that'll give you the peace you're looking for.'

I hope so too, thought Ty, and watched as Corso turned and left. thought Ty, and watched as Corso turned and left.

Ty spent the next couple of hours taking his mind off this encounter by familiarizing himself with the upgraded lab equipment before moving the Mos Hadroch out of the isolation chamber and into the main lab. Its faint iridescent glow had long since faded, along with the aural hallucinations that only appeared to affect people with some form of cerebral implant. Now it sat amidst an array of technology that could carry out a much finer a.n.a.lysis than the isolation chamber could possibly manage.

The artefact now sat in a cradle which had, in turn, been mounted in the heart of a gigantic multi-phase imaging unit intended for carrying out almost every conceivable type of material a.n.a.lysis the Mjollnir Mjollnir's scientific and technical staff could hope for. For the moment, some methods were out of the question: for instance, ultrasonic spectroscopy meant hitting the thing with a laser, and Ty was far from sure the Mos Hadroch would not interpret this as a form of attack and thus retaliate.

The lab even contained its own dedicated manufactory for creating yet more gadgets, should they be required; so its dedicated stacks were filled with thousands of blueprints whose components could be manufactured within a matter of hours or days.

And yet Ty hesitated, unsure where to even start. He retreated to a chair and sat staring at the artefact for the better part of an hour, quietly brooding.

I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, he finally admitted to himself. he finally admitted to himself.

The Mos Hadroch was, according to Dakota Merrick, alive; it was certainly more than a machine, and clearly something intelligent intelligent lurked within its outwardly inert form. But, for all the high-tech tools he had to hand, Ty rather suspected they would be about as much good as trying to reverse-engineer stack circuits by hitting them with a lump of flint. lurked within its outwardly inert form. But, for all the high-tech tools he had to hand, Ty rather suspected they would be about as much good as trying to reverse-engineer stack circuits by hitting them with a lump of flint.

So instead he sat and reflected, and wondered if that strange intelligence might manifest itself a second time. He settled back, aware that his adrenalin rush of the past few days was finally beginning to tail off.

He only realized he'd fallen asleep, when, several hours later, he woke to the insistent buzz of a comms panel.

The lab complex had a small kitchenette, which Ty had stocked with self-heating ready meals from one of the frigate's vast and echoing mess halls. He drank water while he waited for one of them to heat, then swallowed it in a hurry before making his way to the airlock bay where Nancy Schiller and Ray Willis were already getting suited up.

'You're late,' said Nancy, who looked like she hadn't slept since they had left orbit around Redstone. He also noticed she was careful not to meet his eye. 'Where've you been, the last couple of days? Haven't seen you anywhere on the centrifuge at all.'

Ty had been wondering when a moment like this might arrive. He had expected the lifespan of their affair to last only as long as their previous voyage together. It was a matter of some consternation when he had come face to face with her inside the safe-house, after expecting never to see her again.

'In the labs,' he replied, heading for one of the racked suits and lifting it down. 'I had a lot of work to do.'

Nancy and Ray were soon ready, and they stood there with helmets in hand while Ty struggled with the lower half of his suit.

'So what exactly is there to do?' Ray asked him. 'If you're talking about the Mos Hadroch, that is.'

As it recognized that someone was wearing it, Ty's suit automatically began to adjust itself to his body, the shoulders tightening here, the legs growing a few inches longer there.

'Well,' Ty replied, 'for all we know, it might be giving out some kind of signal. Or it might contain readable data, if only I can figure out how it's encoded. But it's definitely not inert: it came to life, just briefly, when we pulled it out of the Atn's body.'

'I remember you said so at the meeting,' Nancy commented, 'but you didn't tell us exactly what happened.'

He shrugged. 'Mostly it just . . . glowed a bit. And Merrick seemed to be able to pick up some kind of signal coming from it through her implants.'

Nancy and Ray eyed at each other at the mention of Merrick. 'Now there's a weird fish,' commented Ray. 'How much do you know about her?'

'I know she was implicated in that whole, ah, thing that happened on Redstone,' he replied, trying hard to sound casual. 'But shouldn't we be heading out?' he asked, nodding towards the nearby row of pressure doors.

'Not just yet,' said Nancy. 'We're going to be-'

A rumbling alert sounded, three quick blasts like a horn; signifying a jump alert.

'Jumping in just a minute,' Nancy finished with a grin. 'Then we can go out.'

Ty nodded, relieved at the fortuitous change of conversation.

When they finally got outside, several specialized spider-mechs were already waiting for them, with toolkits attached, floating a few metres above the hull. The Hyades Cl.u.s.ter now hung in the void far behind the frigate, a distant burst of fireworks caught in one eternal instant.

Ty found he wasn't feeling as nervous as he had expected. In fact, being outside the hull felt no worse than standing on the surface of some clade-world. All he had to do was make sure he didn't make the mistake of thinking of the ship as a huge metal tower with him clinging to its- Whoops. Vertigo hit Ty, and he focused hard on the hull itself, taking several deep breaths and holding on to them. Vertigo hit Ty, and he focused hard on the hull itself, taking several deep breaths and holding on to them.

Flat ground. That's flat ground underneath you, he told himself, over and over. he told himself, over and over.

Once the attack subsided, he gazed back along the hull, towards the flat dome of a shaped-field generator, only a few metres away. Apart from defensive purposes, these devices were primarily used to deflect interstellar debris that might otherwise tear through the hull. If he relaxed his eyes just a little, he could even pick out the faint sparkle of the combined energy fields surrounding the entire frigate.

Just beyond the field generator rose the first of a forest of drive-spines, curving up and outwards from the hull itself.

'Will you look at that,' said Willis, his voice sounding flat and close inside Ty's helmet. 'All that way in less than a second.'

'It's not such a big deal,' Nancy replied. 'Coreships did it all the time.'

'Well, yeah, but . . .'

But Ty knew what he meant. You didn't see or feel anything when inside a coreship; it was the same rocky sky held up by pillars you looked at, wherever in the galaxy you might actually happen to be. Being able to step outside and see where you were could be an awe-inspiring experience.

'All right,' said Nancy, suddenly all brisk efficiency. 'I had to lead a bunch of repair crews the last trip out, so just follow my lead and do what I tell you, and it'll all be fine.'

'What about the spiders?' asked Willis. 'Couldn't we just run them from inside the frigate and get them them to do the work?' to do the work?'

'We tried that,' Nancy replied, 'but there's always something finicky that needs a pair of hands to deal with. But, with any luck, the spiders will still end up doing most of the work. Now check your HUDs for the schedule.'

Ty dutifully brought up his suit's display, which indicated a list of repairs to be made, ordered by priority.

'That's three drive-spines in need of immediate repair, all on this section of the hull,' said Nancy. 'Follow me.'

Ty used lanyards, coiled silver lines that shot out of the rear of his suit just below the air tanks and attached themselves to the hull. All he had to do was lean one way or the other and the lanyards would carry him along at a couple of kilometres an hour, rapidly retracting or reaching out to grip the hull in a steady rippling motion. As Willis and Nancy did the same, Ty was reminded of how comical the lanyards looked, as if each of their suits had suddenly grown spindly cartoon legs.

Nancy had slaved the spiders to her own suit, so that they followed a short way behind her, propelled on tiny puffs of gas.

They soon reached the first drive-spine. In that brief, barely measurable moment when a craft pa.s.sed through superluminal s.p.a.ce, electrical systems often failed and the molecular bonds of the hull began to crumble at the extremities. n.o.body knew what would happen to a ship if it stayed in superluminal s.p.a.ce for a few seconds longer, but Ty strongly suspected that it would disintegrate entirely.

At the base of the first drive-spine was a tangle of power cables leading inside the hull, ultimately terminating at one of the plasma conduits. Some of the cables had worked loose, which was easy enough to fix.