Dyson's Drop (31 page)

Really, who went about ‘naked’, without any field protection? Indecent.

But clever. Always one step ahead.

Black heard the Envoy approaching, and knew the alien was also aware that Anneke had vanished. He bent down and picked up the belt.

Then he froze. He did not freeze because of what he saw. He froze because he wasn’t given a choice.

Anneke had booby-trapped the belt. The moment he touched it, an immobiliser field enveloped him as tiny numbers appeared on the belt’s readout screen.

The numbers were counting down.

He had less than five seconds to live. This gave him long enough to both curse and to reflect that immobiliser fields were his personal nemesis.

Unable to turn, move or speak, he was aware that the Envoy was no longer nearby. Perhaps he’d mistaken the sound of the alien’s approach with Anneke’s escape. No matter. In another two and a half seconds, Black would be blown to bits and he would no longer care.

Even if the Envoy had been close by, it would not have mattered. A hatchling would resume his place. Black on the other hand was, in his own opinion, irreplaceable.

He watched, heart racmg, as the countdown reached
two.

Then
one.

Then
zero.

Anneke had launched herself straight up through the hatch.

In the intersecting tunnel above, she quietly closed the hatch and retreated. In short order there would be a number of nasty explosions, and if she wanted to survive, she needed to disembark the ship, and fast.

And there was only one way to do that. The Dyson jump-gate.

She turned, intending to double time it to the nearest cargo elevator, but a dazzling white light hit her square in the face and she felt a deep wave of blackness sweep over her. As she fell, she was distantly aware of the Envoy watching her.

A meeting was under way. Anneke blinked, perplexed that she was still alive, that indeed anybody was still alive.

Then she understood.

She was shackled and bound and propped on a chair in a large round room. Sitting nearby was Nathaniel Brown. Behind him stood the Envoy, while before him stood a small party of hooded Sentinels.

Black noticed Anneke was awake. ‘Welcome back.

You haven’t missed anything,’ he said.

‘I missed you,’ she said.

‘I assume you’re talking about the bomb in your belt. Cute. The sort of thing I might have done. Effective, too.’

‘Not effective enough.’

Black sighed. ‘Well, I have my friends here to thank,’ he said, gesturing towards the Sentinels.

‘They arrived in the middle of the battle and deployed a time-stop field on all inorganic devices. The immobiliser field quit and the bomb stopped somewhere between one and zero. Immaculate timing, if you ask me.’

The lead Sentinel made a noise. Anneke supposed it was disapproval, but all he said was, ‘You will withdraw from this place. Kanto Kantoris is now under the protection of the Sentinels. There will be no more bloodshed.’

Anneke felt a great weight lift from her shoulders. The cavalry had arrived, and not a second too late. Though maybe a second too early ...

Getting no response from Brown, the lead Sentinel cocked its head. ‘Did you not hear me, Nathaniel Brown? There will be no more fighting today. If you do not comply, we will eliminate you.’

Brown snorted.

Anneke had expected any response but that. It sent a chill down her spine. Brown obviously knew something that absolved him of any fear of the Sentinels.

‘I will not be leaving the field of battle today, my friends,’ said Brown. ‘But you will be.’

The lead Sentinel took a step forward. Black looked up into the dark space that its hood concealed. There was a glitter of eyes there, Anneke could see, but little else.

‘This is your last warning.’

‘And it is your first and only,’ said Brown. ‘I know your secret, Sentinel. I know where you come from and why you guard Arachnor so fiercely. I know the thing that shames you.’

He tossed the Sentinel a miniature e-pad. The Sentinel, who had gone still at Brown’s words, peered at the e-pad. A moment later Anneke heard a sharp intake of breath from beneath the hood.

Black stood up. ‘The information on that pad is poised to be distributed across the galaxy should anything happen to me and if my wishes are not met immediately. You will remove yourself from my ship and from this system. Indeed, you will withdraw all your forces and consulates from human worlds. If I ever see another Sentinel, the truth about whom and what you are will be released. Do you understand me?’

Absolute silence greeted his words.

‘Do you understand me?’ repeated Brown, his voice louder this time.

‘We understand,’ said the lead Sentinel. With that - to Anneke’s horror - the Sentinels turned on their heels and retreated. Moments later, Brown’s communicator confirmed that the Sentinels were withdrawing.

Then two explosions rocked the dreadnought. Brown turned to Anneke. ‘What have you done?’

‘My job.’

‘Check on it,’ he ordered the Envoy, who hurried out.

Despite the explosions, Brown was in a good mood.

He had done what no one else had ever managed to do: sent the Sentinels running, tails between their legs. ‘Now
that’s
power,’ he murmured to himself, pacing with grim delight.

The Envoy returned.

‘Well?’

‘She has destroyed the
n-space
generator. The ship can no longer be moved.’

‘And the weapon?’

‘It is intact.’

Anneke stared at him. ‘I don’t think so.’

The Envoy turned his alien eyes on her. ‘The weapon utilises a different power source, Anneke Longshadow, and has stored sufficient energy for one strike.’

Black grinned fleetingly. ‘Why don’t you tell her all my plans?’

‘She needs to know the truth,’ the Envoy said.

‘She will doubt.’

‘Great,’ said Black. ‘A killer alien who tells the truth. Just what the galaxy needs.’ He turned to Anneke. ‘Despite my friend’s chattiness, what he says is so. Which means we have come to the crux of the matter.’

Anneke stared at Black, speechless. She was out of plans and low on possibilities.

To the Envoy, Black said, ‘Bring the weapon online. We’ll be upstairs.’

With a levitation field, Black dragged Anneke in his wake - still shackled - as he made his way to the bridge and settled into his captain’s chair.

‘You will now hand over the second set of coordinates or I will destroy Kanto, which I know you love and admire so much.’

Anneke felt a surge of hatred for Brown so powerful it made her dizzy. Black laughed.

‘How this must hurt,’ he said, relishing every word.

‘You came so close to destroying me. So fantastically close. And who should save me, but the old knights in shining armour. Oh, how ironic.’

Anneke calmed herself. ‘Enjoy it while you can, Brown. Your days are numbered. The universe will not suffer a creature like you for long.’

‘Spare me the melodramatics. The coordinates. Please.’

For all the good they will do you,’ Anneke said, giving him the code to unlock a server on the planet below. Within minutes, he had uploaded the entire set and verified their authenticity.

‘I don’t suppose you have any clues as to where the third set might be found?’

Anneke gave him an injured look.

‘No, of course not. Maybe I’ll go find young Josh, wherever he’s hiding. I think he’d make a fine addition to my research team.’

The Envoy returned.

‘Destroy it,’ Black ordered, getting to his feet. Anneke stared at him. ‘What are you doing?’

‘What do you think I’m doing, Anneke? I need a demonstration of power. And I need every single plankton containing the lost coordinates code to be forever destroyed. Which is what they used to call, I think, killing two birds with one stone.’ He moved to the door, stopping for a moment to turn back. ‘Oh, and I’ll be self-destructing this vessel, too, since you were churlish enough to ruin its drive.’

The Envoy stepped back from the controls. Pulling out a blaster, he vaporised the board. ‘It is done. The weapon must charge, but it can not now be stopped.’ Black nodded. To Anneke he said, ‘Well, I guess that’s it. I’ll be seeing you. Oh, that’s right. I won’t be seeing you. What a delightful thought. I’ll leave you alive for a short time to contemplate the error of your ways.’

He exited, whisding.

The Envoy did not follow immediately but paused, eyeing Anneke. ‘I will set the self-destruct for twenty minutes.’

He stared at her a moment longer then departed. Anneke started work on her shackles immediately. First, she bit down hard on a tooth at the back of her mouth, mixed the contents with saliva, and then dribbled it onto the shackle lock. Moments after mixing with air, it started to smoke, having become a molecular acid. Within two minutes, she was free.

Frantically, she set about stopping the weapon from firing, but realised she could do nothing from there. After an examination of the captain’s console she knew that the weapon was not directional. She could not save Kanto by changing the direction the ship pointed, even if she had not already thoroughly wrecked the ship’s drive.

‘Come on, think!’

The captain’s console lit up and a deep slow vibration trembled the floor and walls of the bridge. Anneke felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand erect as vast ancient energies built up.

‘No, no, don’t let this happen!’ she cried, staring wild-eyed at the destroyed consol. Suddenly, she heard a high-pitched whine. She looked up, staring at the forward screen in which Kanto hung like a bauble.

Then it was gone, winking into an incandescence so blindingly bright, it seared her optic nerves, leaving an after-image that lingered for minutes.

When she could see again, there was nothing, just a chaotic sea of plasma through which distant stars were shining.

Blinking back tears, she slumped in Black’s chair. She had failed. And millions upon millions of people had died.

She might have died, too, if the ship’s klaxons had not blared their warnings. ‘Self-destruct in five minutes and counting,’ intoned a pleasant disembodied voice.

Anneke forced herself up and out of the chair. She broke into a run, reached a drop tube and plummeted down a dozen levels, then sprinted for the jump-gate chamber. In her heart, she suspected Black would have disabled it.

But he had slipped up once already this day.

‘Two minutes and counting,’ said the ship’s AI

VOICe.

She put on a burst of speed, tore down a long passageway, slammed round the bend at the end into another, then a left, another left, then a right.

She burst, breathlessly, into the jump-gate chamber.

Marvel of marvels, it was still there, still energised.

‘Twenty seconds and counting,’ said the voice. Damn. There was no time to dial a destination, even if she knew one by heart. She would be sent through to the destination used by the previous traveller. What the hell, that had to be better than being vaporised. Providing of course the last destination hadn’t been Kanto ...

Anneke leaned over the control board, punched the SEND button, and heard the gate hum as it searched for and found the default destination. The gate dilated like an inky grey curtain of faintly cascading water.

‘Five seconds and counting.’

That’s when Anneke saw the blaster on an adjacent seat, probably left by an absent-minded techie. But there was no
time.
No time to go for it ...

She had no idea, however, where she was going or into what trouble she might be thrown.

Oh, dammit. As the final countdown sounded she leapt for the blaster, snatched it up and dived for the portal.

As she heard the ship’s AI say- ‘One second and counting’ - she slid clumsily through the gate and into an explosion of light and noise.