Heaven's Queen (2 page)

Maat buried her face in Brenton’s chest, and Caldswell felt a twinge of guilt. She was nearly twenty now, but when she did that, she looked just like the little girl they’d rescued so long ago. The little girl they should have been protecting, not using like this.

“Who?” Brenton asked again.

Maat’s whole body shook with a sob. “The ones who speak in the dark.”

Brenton glanced at Caldswell, but the commander just shrugged. Maat said cryptic shit all the time. But before he could try and guess what this particular riddle was about, a flash outside put everything else out of his mind.

Light bloomed in the empty space that had been the colony of Svenya, pushing through the darkness like all of reality was just oil floating on water. Caldswell had never seen anything like it, though he knew enough to guess it must be some kind of hyperspace exit. As for the ships that came through, though, he couldn’t guess at all.

They looked like deep-sea fish, their flat bodies marked with gorgeous blues, greens, and purples that glowed with their own light. They dwarfed the battleship Caldswell had requisitioned, but they moved with a grace that belied their hugeness, an effortless, natural motion that he had never seen in any machine. If it wasn’t for the fact that he could see obvious doors in their sides and prows, he would have sworn the giant vessels were
alive
. Whatever they were, though, they were beautiful. So beautiful Caldswell could have stared at them forever, but he couldn’t, because the final shape that blossomed out of hyperspace stole his attention completely.

If the mystery ships had been huge, this thing was gigantic, as large as any of the xith’cal warships Caldswell had fought—only this, he was sure, was no ship. Unlike the others with their rainbow colors, the last thing to exit hyperspace was as black as the void behind it. Once the hyperspace flash faded, Caldswell could catch only glimpses of its surface in the reflected light of the other ships: a wide, pointed head framed by millions of tendrils; a shiny, shell-black surface; and deep, terrible pits that could have been eyes or mouths or something else he couldn’t even imagine. He was still staring at it when the other ships opened fire.

Caldswell grabbed the console on instinct, because from where he was sitting, the beautiful ships seemed to be firing straight at
him
. But the brilliant beams of blue-white fire never hit the Republic battleship. Instead, they struck the invisible mass of the phantom floating between them.

For one terrifying moment, the entire sky was ablaze. For the first time ever, Caldswell saw the whole of the phantom’s body as the alien’s fire lit it up from within. The thing was even bigger than he’d imagined, and he’d imagined big. Miles, he’d guessed, maybe hundreds of them. Now, with the truth spelled out in fire, all he could think was that he’d been a fool. The phantom’s snakelike body stretched from one end of Svenya’s dust cloud to the other. It was as big as a planet, bigger even than the enormous black monster commanding the attack, and it wasn’t going down quietly.

The creature burned for nearly thirty minutes, thrashing in agony, taking several of the beautiful fishlike ships out in the process. It was only by pure luck that it didn’t hit Caldswell’s battleship again. But the unknown aliens kept up the attack until, at last, the phantom gave one final shudder and started to disintegrate. That was all Caldswell saw before the alien’s fire snuffed out and the phantom’s body vanished, invisible once again, though he knew if he could somehow reach out there, he would still feel it falling apart.

All through the attack, Maat hadn’t moved. She just stood there clinging to Brenton, her eyes locked on the light show outside. When it finished, she collapsed into a sobbing heap.

Dr. Strauss was at her side at once, helping Brenton move her to the captain’s chair. Caldswell was about to go over as well when the voice spoke in his head.

Enemy of our enemy.

The words weren’t words exactly, not as he knew them. They were more like impressions, meanings layered together to form something richer than language. For a moment, Caldswell thought he was imagining things, but then Brenton and the doctor snapped their heads up as well, looking around like they’d heard it, too. Meanwhile, Maat began to cry harder.

Outside, the beautiful alien ships were coming toward them with the huge black shape at the center. They moved so fast, there was no chance to run even if Caldswell had wanted to. But he wanted no such thing. He ordered the helmsman to hold course before walking up to the prow of the bridge just as the aliens came to an abrupt halt in front of them, the huge fleet floating like giants over the lone Republic ship.

Who speaks for all?

The words brushed over Caldswell’s mind like impatient fingers, demanding to know who was in command. He could see from Brenton’s face that he’d felt it as well, but Caldswell was commander here, so he was the one who answered.

“I am.”

Any worries that the aliens wouldn’t be able to hear him vanished when he felt the presence in his mind focus, the impressions growing louder and clearer, as though the speaker had turned to face him.
Enemy of our enemy
, it said again, only now the words implied kinship and cooperation.
We offer you aid.

“And we appreciate it,” Caldswell replied. “Thank you. We never could have killed that thing on our own.”

We know this
, the alien said dismissively.
And now you know it as well. You are dead without us.

Caldswell fought the urge to scowl. “What kind of aid are you offering?”

Protection
, the voice said, the word itself a wall.
The universe has been torn open, and the corruption is seeping through. This attack was only the beginning. More are coming.

“More” was the word Caldswell’s brain supplied, but the alien’s impression was infinitely larger, an endless flood. “How many more?”

Countless
, the voice answered.
More than either of us can fight.

Caldswell nodded. “So you want to work together.”

Amusement trilled through his mind like a swirling feather.
We do not fight unless forced
, it answered.
Violence is a risk we cannot take. We are vital; therefore, we cannot be allowed to end.

“Is that so?” Caldswell said, folding his arms over his chest. “Then what exactly would we be getting out of this aid if you won’t fight?”

Survival
, the alien replied, filling the words with the feeling of an open hand.
We are lelgis, those without end, and we offer you our knowledge and the opportunity to save your race. We will show you how to forge the weapon that can kill the ones you know as phantoms, and in return, you will hunt them until we are all safe.
The voice paused, letting this sink in. And then, almost like an afterthought, it added,
We also require an offering.

“What kind of offering?” Brenton said, making Caldswell jump. He hadn’t realized the others could hear this as well until Brenton spoke, but when he looked back, his partner was glaring murder at the black alien above them. “You seem to be getting the sweet end of this deal while we do all the work.”

Without us, you will die
, the lelgis said lightly.
You need us, and to aid you, we require the one called Maat.

“What?” Brenton shouted, but Caldswell put out his hand.

“Explain,” he said.

She has the potential to be like us
, the lelgis said solemnly, the words heavy with power.
Give her to us, and we will forge her to be the tool that saves this universe.

Caldswell could feel Brenton’s rage building from across the room, so he made sure to speak first. “What would that entail, exactly?”

The enormous black alien moved a little closer.
She will stop the flood in our stead
, it said, offering up the picture of a door closing.
Without a barricade, the corruption will overwhelm us all, and this sad, dead planet will be but the first in an infinite line of tragedies. But with her, we can stop them. A single sacrifice so that all may live.

Caldswell bit his lip, trying to think this through, to tease out what was really going on. Before he could, though, the alien spoke again.
This offer will be tendered only once, enemy of our enemy. Accept and save your species, refuse and perish.

“Don’t do it, Brian,” Brenton said, suddenly beside him. “Don’t even think about it. We can’t trust them. We don’t even know what they are.”

“You saw what they killed,” Caldswell said. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but without them we’d be dead right now.”

“Maat is our only weapon against the phantoms,” Brenton said, his voice rising. “You can’t just give—”

“Maat is breaking!” Caldswell yelled. “You know that damn well. Even if she wasn’t, do you really think we can keep going like we have been over the last few months? Some of us need to sleep, Brenton, and we can’t guard the entire universe with one girl. Not at the rate the phantoms are multiplying. We need a better solution, and if they’re offering one, we’d be idiots not to hear it out.”

“So you’d just give her over?” Brenton shouted. “Sacrifice her to some alien—”

“Yes!” Caldswell shouted back, jabbing his finger at the floating rocks that had been Svenya. “If it means something like this will never happen again, I’d give them my own daughter!”

Caldswell regretted his words the moment they were out of his mouth, but it was too late. The alien voice was already crooning in his head.

Good
, it whispered, petting him with their approval as the aliens turned their fleet around.
Follow.

“Do it,” Caldswell ordered, ignoring Brenton’s horrified look. Moments later, the battleship took off after them, following the aliens into the dark.

Once the ship was moving, Caldswell stomped over to Brenton to take Maat from him, but the symbiont wouldn’t let go. Maat was trembling in his arms, staring at Caldswell with terrified eyes. “I can see what they want,” she whispered, her voice breaking like old glass. “Don’t let them take me.” Tears appeared in her eyes. “
Please
, Brian, don’t do this.”

When he didn’t answer, she flew into a rage. As Brenton and Dr. Strauss wrestled her back into the chair for sedation, Caldswell slumped into his own seat to watch the lelgis fly. He knew Brenton wouldn’t stop fighting him on this. Brenton always took Maat’s side, but it didn’t matter. Caldswell had made up his mind. If the lelgis could give him the weapon that had burned that monster out of the sky, or any weapon that could reliably kill phantoms on the scale they needed to be killed on, then he would pay any price. He would climb up on the altar with Maat himself if they wanted, so long as they gave him the power to stop the goddamn tragedies.

After all, he thought, slumping down, what were a few more deaths compared to the billions of lives already lost? What was anything, so long as no more planets died? Nothing, he decided. Nothing at all.

Five days later, Maat was given to the lelgis as promised, and at the far corner of the newly restricted zone that had been the Svenya System, construction began on the prison that would later be known as Dark Star Station.

I’
ve woken up in a lot of weird places in my life, but coming to in a xith’cal escape pod was pushing it even for me.

I woke with a start, jumping so sharply I would have put a fist through something if I hadn’t had the foresight to lock my suit. Fortunately I had, so all I did was bang around a little.

“Welcome back.”

I glanced at my cameras to see Rupert smiling over his shoulder at me. In the normal run of things, I would have counted waking up to an attractive man’s smile as a plus, but my relationship with Rupert Charkov was a thorny, complicated mess at the moment, so I mumbled a hello and looked away, though not before I noticed that Rupert had shifted out of his symbiont scales and put on clothes while I was asleep.

I’ll admit I was a little disappointed I’d missed that. I might have been infected with a crazy plasmex plague and generally confused about my situation, but I wasn’t
dead
. At least, not yet, which was in itself nothing short of a miracle considering the events on Reaper’s tribe ship and our subsequent crazy escape from the lelgis. But though I’d had one of my best nights ever celebrating not being dead with Rupert back on Caldswell’s
Glorious Fool
, a lot had changed since then, so I forced my eyes off Rupert’s admittedly lovely back and settled them firmly on my surroundings.

Surprisingly, it turned out to be worth the look.

“Wow,” I breathed, craning my neck back. The sky outside the ship’s tiny canopy was absolutely
full
of stars all crowded together against a rainbow of color that ranged from deep blue to brilliant pink. The combined light was so bright my cameras darkened to compensate, but even my suit couldn’t dim the glare of the giant, golden gas planet we were currently orbiting, its swirling cloud cover shining like a second sun in the reflected light of the twin star system behind us.

“Where are we?” I asked, covering my eyes with my hand.

“The Atlas Emission Nebula,” Rupert replied. “Birthplace of stars and, as you might have guessed from the name, a licensed territory of Atlas Industrial.”

I whistled. “I know you Terrans give your corporations a lot of freedom, but this is ridiculous.” Why would anyone give up a place this beautiful?

Rupert shrugged. “There are plenty who would agree with you, but at the moment the Terran Republic’s policy of licensing unused space works in our favor. Every possible terraformable satellite in this sector has been turned into an Atlas cash development, which means we have our choice of places to set down, so long as we do it in the next thirty minutes.”

“What happens in the next thirty minutes?”

Rupert turned back to the screen at the front of the ship. “If I’m reading this right, that’s when we run out of fuel.”

He said this so blithely I almost missed the doom inherent in that statement. “Hold up. You’re saying we’ve got thirty minutes to safely land a xith’cal ship on a Terran colony?” He nodded, and I threw up my hands. “Why don’t we just shoot ourselves down and save them the trouble?”