Nova War Part 6

The Queen c.o.c.ked her enormous head to one side and regarded him. 'Let me guess, another human name?'

'I know you disapprove, my Queen, but I cannot deny my fondness for certain of their arts.'

'Yet their scents are so bland if unusual in some respects,' she murmured, favouring the open flask with a glance.

'Precisely. Which means they are forced to express themselves in ways that supersede their sensory limitations, and to my tastes they do so most frequently through their arts.'

'I sometimes fear I have made you altogether too human,' the Queen replied, drawing closer to the edge of the platform and therefore closer to Remembrance.

'Perhaps, my Queen,' Remembrance replied, growing gla.s.sy-eyed.

It was true that his Queen's attentions on previous occasions had made him sufficiently different from his own species that other Bandati now seemed strange to him. For all that Honeydew was a member of a rival Hive, Remembrance felt a curious kinship. They had both, after all, been made over by their respective Queens in order to communicate more easily with other species.

Remembrance waited patiently as his Queen inclined her head to run her long tongue across his wings and back. He felt an icy coldness sinking rapidly into his flesh, triggering physiological changes at the most fundamental level. It was a process that given only a little time would alter his scent and even his Hive rank. A Bandati Queen was the only one equipped to do such a thing.

'And your chosen spoken name is?' she asked, her voice growing thick with desire.

'"Days of Wine and Roses",' he told her.

'What a strange name,' she murmured, as long-chain molecules modelled after highly mutable infectious viruses continued to work their transformative magic on him. 'It paints a picture without relying on scent, and yet it still somehow feels as typically human as your previous name. Where did you find it?'

'I stumbled across it while engaging in cultural research before taking up my post as a.s.sistant economic adviser to your previous amba.s.sador to Earth. The words are pleasing to my ear.'

'As they are to mine,' she concurred. 'And now to me, my love,' she added, reaching towards him with her tree-trunk limbs, lifting him entirely off the platform and into her giant embrace. 'You will serve me well.'

'That I will,' Remembrance-soon-to-be-Roses replied as the haze of l.u.s.t finally overwhelmed him. 'That I will.'

Five.

The next morning Dakota and Corso lay curled together on the floor, her back pressed against his belly, head resting on the inside of his arm, the door and the vertiginous drop beyond it barely half a metre away. She remembered the low grunts he'd made as they'd coupled in the half-light of dawn, the whispered conversations earlier as he explained how he'd been kept in a cell identical to her own.

She wondered if their gaolers had been watching them the whole time, if their lovemaking had made any kind of sense to them.

He shifted behind her, and she wondered if she smelled as bad to him as he did to her, because it wasn't like there were any washing facilities handy. He stumbled to his feet and she guessed he was heading for the ambrosia pipe.

'Don't drink it,' she warned him.

He shook his head. 'It's safe now.'

'Bulls.h.i.t. It numbs your mind and makes it easier for them to deal with you. We have a better chance of figuring our way out of here if we can both think straight.'

He bent down to the pipe and touched its flexible tip before looking back over at her. 'Starving to death isn't going to help us either. Were you serious last night when you said you wanted to try and climb out of here?'

She pushed herself up onto one elbow and regarded him. 'Yeah.'

He shook his head. 'Well, don't. Where would you go, anyway?'

'Jesus, don't you you want to get out of here?' want to get out of here?'

'I already tried.'

She frowned at him.

'Climbing out, I mean. I already tried. All I managed was to nearly get myself killed.'

'Lucas-' she began in alarm.

'I don't want to talk about it, okay? And, as far as the ambrosia goes, trust me when I tell you it's not an issue any more. Seriously.'

'It'll put you to sleep.'

'It won't.' He bent down to suck on the pipe and Dakota stared as he swallowed several mouthfuls. She half expected him to slump there like a junkie after a new fix, but he just stared back, as bright-eyed as ever.

He nodded down towards the pipe. 'I know you don't trust me, but . . .'

'You tried to steal the derelict from me. I didn't forget that, that, at least.' at least.'

'Look, trust me this one time. If I'm lying, fine, hold it against me for ever more. But look at you! Your ribs are showing. You need to drink, Dak. Or you're going to die.'

She rocked back on her haunches, feeling warm sunlight play against the curve of her spine, and buried her head in her arms folded over her shoulders. 'I don't want to drink that stuff and then wake up back in that f.u.c.king chamber being tortured,' she replied, her voice m.u.f.fled. 'It feels like that's what happens every time I go near that pipe.'

'But not this time, Dakota,' Corso insisted. 'This time is different. Look at me. Do I look like I'm going to pa.s.s out?'

's.h.i.t.' Dakota unfolded herself and propped her head on one arm, staring at a man who was equal parts friend, lover and enemy. There had been times when he'd saved her life and times when he'd been ready to kill her.

's.h.i.t,' she said again, sounding even more miserable. She fell onto her hands and knees and crawled the short distance over to the food pipe. 's.h.i.t, s.h.i.t, s.h.i.t.'

She drank the ambrosia, staring up at Corso with a murderous expression.

It tasted different. Sweeter somehow, and grittier. She didn't experience the wash of euphoria she'd felt before. She pulled away from the pipe and coughed hoa.r.s.ely.

'Easy,' said Corso, kneeling beside her and gently prying the pipe from her fingers. 'Not too much or you'll just bring it all back up again. How long have you been starving yourself like this?'

'Not sure. Several days, maybe.'

'What, you're trying to kill yourself?'

'I feel like I'm already already dead, being stuck in here.' She glanced up at Corso. dead, being stuck in here.' She glanced up at Corso.

He looked troubled. 'It was pretty bad for me too,' he said, glancing away from her.

'Corso, how did you know-?'

'Drink a little more now,' he replied, cutting her off.

Some time later that same day she glanced over to see him standing by the door-opening, framed by stars. She watched him for a while, and realized she was starting to feel better than she had in days. Even the migraines were beginning to tail off, and her mind remained clear despite the ambrosia.

A voice she hadn't expected to ever hear again spoke inside her mind.

How come?

It's okay, Piri Piri, I get it. Things are going okay for once.

See you when you come back round. Over and out.

It had been a moment of revelation when the Piri Reis Piri Reis had successfully piggybacked its signal on the derelict's own, more esoteric, system of communication. It had taken serious willpower earlier in the day not to punch the air in triumph, as it would have been hard to come up with an appropriate excuse to give Corso for such exultant behaviour. had successfully piggybacked its signal on the derelict's own, more esoteric, system of communication. It had taken serious willpower earlier in the day not to punch the air in triumph, as it would have been hard to come up with an appropriate excuse to give Corso for such exultant behaviour.

The facility containing both the Piri Piri and the derelict s.p.a.cecraft orbited a moon whose Bandati name translated as 'Blackflower'. This in turn orbited Dusk, the nearest of two inner-system gas giants known to the Bandati as the Fair Sisters. The farther gas giant was called Dawn. At the moment, the orbits of both Dusk and Ironbloom had brought them relatively close to each other, although Ironbloom's greater orbital velocity would soon widen the gap. and the derelict s.p.a.cecraft orbited a moon whose Bandati name translated as 'Blackflower'. This in turn orbited Dusk, the nearest of two inner-system gas giants known to the Bandati as the Fair Sisters. The farther gas giant was called Dawn. At the moment, the orbits of both Dusk and Ironbloom had brought them relatively close to each other, although Ironbloom's greater orbital velocity would soon widen the gap.

Unfortunately, there were limitations to Dakota's ability to communicate with the two vessels. For the moment the signal had to remain, by necessity, entirely line-of-sight. Both Piri Piri and the derelict communicated via highly directional tach-transmissions that could pa.s.s through planetary bodies with ease, but the resulting interaction with ordinary matter generated enough Cerenkov-Mahler radiation to draw the attention of Bandati monitoring systems entirely capable of identifying a rogue transmission's point of origin and its destination. and the derelict communicated via highly directional tach-transmissions that could pa.s.s through planetary bodies with ease, but the resulting interaction with ordinary matter generated enough Cerenkov-Mahler radiation to draw the attention of Bandati monitoring systems entirely capable of identifying a rogue transmission's point of origin and its destination.

Blackflower completed a fast orbit around its parent, Dusk, roughly once every twenty-seven hours, which meant Dakota could only make contact with the Piri Piri and the derelict for about half of that time and only after dark, when the part of Ironbloom on which her tower stood was facing the right way. and the derelict for about half of that time and only after dark, when the part of Ironbloom on which her tower stood was facing the right way.

But still, there were satellites...o...b..ting both worlds on which signals might be piggybacked. Consequently the derelict was hijacking the Bandati's own communications grids bit by bit but that was taking time.

And Dakota wasn't sure how much time they had left.

Corso turned and saw she was watching him. She caught his eye and immediately he looked away, a look of regret and guilt crossing his face as he did so.

In that moment, she realized he was keeping something from her.

They had clung together the previous night, still desperately glad to see each other, but as the following day progressed, Corso's continued refusal even to discuss what had happened to him before he appeared in her cell both worried her and made her suspicious.

Her gut feeling that he was keeping something back increased every time she caught his furtive glances. By the time evening began to draw in the atmosphere had become badly strained, and Corso had taken up residence at the rear of the cell, silent and brooding.

She remained close by the door-opening, facing outwards, her attention on events that were literally a world away. She had her own secrets to keep, after all.

The Piri Reis Piri Reis had apparently been taken inside a Bandati ship, a huge dreadnought that had only recently docked with the facility. had apparently been taken inside a Bandati ship, a huge dreadnought that had only recently docked with the facility.

Why this had happened was a question she couldn't answer; but it was clear the Piri Piri was under attack. was under attack.

Her ship had been placed in a maintenance cradle in what appeared to be an engineering bay, while a team of Bandati huddled next to the hole that had been blown in its side back in Nova Arctis. The Piri Piri was designed for electronic subterfuge and sabotage rather than physical defence, and yet her ship's own surveillance systems made it clear several more Bandati lay dead nearby. They looked like they'd been blown apart. was designed for electronic subterfuge and sabotage rather than physical defence, and yet her ship's own surveillance systems made it clear several more Bandati lay dead nearby. They looked like they'd been blown apart.

That made her wonder if the Bandati were fighting amongst themselves for possession of the Piri Piri and presumably for possession of the Magi protocols still held within the and presumably for possession of the Magi protocols still held within the Piri' Piri's stacks.

She fought down a surge of panic at the thought. She wasn't sure if the Bandati could actually use the protocols Corso had developed to take the derelict away from her but neither was she certain they couldn't. couldn't.

In her distracted state, she hadn't at first realized that more heavily-armed Bandati were now approaching from a platform at the far end of the bay, moving cautiously and setting up defensive posts as they did so small, portable barriers behind which they could hide. But that made no sense, since the Piri Piri had no weapons to use against them. had no weapons to use against them.

Yet, as she watched, soap bubbles began to appear everywhere throughout the bay, each one lasting barely a second before it shrank almost immediately to a brilliant white point, before exploding with the force of a grenade. More and more of them appeared, ripping apart both the Bandati warriors creeping towards the Piri Piri and the ones still crouching by the rip in its hull. and the ones still crouching by the rip in its hull.

But they weren't really soap bubbles. They were shaped fields each one popping into existence around nothing but air before shrinking, compressing the atmosphere inside to a white-hot plasma that exploded outwards with devastating force when the field dissipated barely a second later.

Shrink and blow. She'd first heard of this tactic during her pilot training. She'd first heard of this tactic during her pilot training.

The Shoal had used it to wipe out half a Sun-Angel fleet that made the mistake of trying to smuggle nukes on board a coreship at the height of the Erskine Offensive. The Consortium didn't have access to field-generators half as sophisticated as those used by relatively senior races like the Bandati. What made things more confusing now was that the Piri Piri didn't have didn't have any any field generators at all . . . field generators at all . . .

But the Bandati dreadnought did, she realized. The Piri Piri or whatever else might be controlling it was using the Bandati ship's own field-generators to blow its crew to smithereens. or whatever else might be controlling it was using the Bandati ship's own field-generators to blow its crew to smithereens.

Piri., I want you to tell me exactly what the f.u.c.k has been going on. I want to know- Dakota blinked, stunned. It was like Bourdain's Rock all over again. Who says? Who says?

What? Do you mean the Bandati? Are they telling you what to do?

But that didn't make any sense, with almost a dozen dead Bandati scattered around the Piri Piri did it? did it?

To h.e.l.l with that, she almost said aloud. She wanted to know what was happening to her ship; she wanted to know- she almost said aloud. She wanted to know what was happening to her ship; she wanted to know- But all the same, she was was running out of time. running out of time.

'Dakota?'

She turned to see Corso standing and watching her with some apprehension.

'Dakota? Who are you talking to?'

She turned away again and focused her attention instead on a train of blimps weaving their way between two neighbouring towers, following each other in tight, computer-controlled lines that reminded her of the motion of a snake undulating across desert dunes. She felt a powerful sense of satisfaction as the lead blimp in the procession suddenly changed course. Dozens of identical blimp-trains pa.s.sed through the city day and night, always sticking to the same pre-programmed routes, without varying once.

Until now.

The lead blimp began to tack directly towards their own tower, getting closer over the next few minutes until it was no more than a few hundred metres away. She could make out strange markings on the side of its unmanned gondola, complex sigils whose meaning was lost on her, but bore some resemblance to those decorating her cell.

It was more than enough. She grinned like a maniac as the blimp suddenly shifted back onto its original course, the rest of the train automatically shifting to follow it in its sudden, unintended course change.

Thank you, she sent to the skies, but it was already too late. Both the derelict and the she sent to the skies, but it was already too late. Both the derelict and the Piri Reis Piri Reis had pa.s.sed into Blackflower's dark side, and thus temporarily out of range. had pa.s.sed into Blackflower's dark side, and thus temporarily out of range.

'Dakota!'

The way Corso said her name this time, it sounded like a warning.

She stood and turned to face him once more, her heels only millimetres from the chasm of air filling the void between the Hive Towers. In her mind's eye, she imagined she looked like a diver about to make a leap from the high board.

'There's something you're not telling me,' she challenged him without preamble. 'I don't know what it is, but there's something. And we can't afford secrets, not here.'

He squinted at her in shock, his expression suddenly blank. She almost smiled. It was like confronting a kid with his hand still inside the cookie jar.

'Maybe you could tell me what you you were doing there just now, Dakota. I was watching and . . . I saw what happened to that airship.' He licked his lips nervously. 'Did you make that happen?' were doing there just now, Dakota. I was watching and . . . I saw what happened to that airship.' He licked his lips nervously. 'Did you make that happen?'

'At first I thought they put us together so they could spy on us while we talked. But there haven't been any interrogations since you appeared, and you're telling me the ambrosia is safe to drink and, the funny thing is, it is. is. And I can't help but wonder how you could have known that?' And I can't help but wonder how you could have known that?'

Corso rubbed his palms across his face as if trying to erase the expression of alarm that had appeared there. 'Dak, do you know how close you're standing to the edge? Come back in. Please be reasonable.'

'Reasonable?' She could hear the bitterness in her tone. She glanced down at her feet, realizing that, without consciously thinking about it, she had shuffled slightly backwards. She was standing just outside the cell now, looking in, balanced on the lip of the tiny platform, one hand on the frame of the door-opening.

'You like to think you're a reasonable man, but when it comes down to it all you do is follow the path of least resistance, right, Lucas?'