Reavers (Book 3) (27 page)

Nobue pondered.  He had felt that too.  Checking his pad, he looked over the manifest of all ships that had docked.  There had been only two ships, one belonging to Gazsi, and the other belonging to
Sanderson
.  Nobue sneered; that man was trouble.  He was a master at his profession, no doubt about that.  It was his attitude that was the problem.  He always second-guessed orders and never once showed Nobue any of the respect his position demanded.

At every opportunity Nobue had tried to find some excuse to get rid of the sniper.  However, every time it ended up the same way.  His annoyingly outstanding performance record convinced the higher-ups to ignore Nobue’s warnings.  To them, as long as the job got done they had no interest in who did it or how.  Plus, Sanderson had a skill that even Nobue had to give him credit for.  He blended.

Unlike the plethora of troopers out there, Sanderson could be inserted into high society affairs and not immediately give himself away.  His attention to detail and persnickety focus on his appearance instantly gave him the persona of any bureaucrat or politician.  Despite his usefulness, Nobue just couldn’t trust him.  Every time one of Sanderson’s field reports came in, Nobue would quickly scan through it, waiting for the day the sniper went rogue or downright rejected orders.

As Nobue looked through the docking records, he realized why his throat felt hoarse.  He must have been yelling at Sanderson.  But why?  The failure of operation Ouroboros was unsettling, but was that enough to make Nobue forget a good fight with the annoyingly proper man?

“Something wrong, sir?” Gazsi asked.

“It’s Sanderson, again.  He’s reported in three whole days late.  Very unlike him.”

“Do you want something done about it?”

“No, I took care of it already . . . I think.”  Nobue rubbed his sore throat.  “However, there is something you can do.”

“Yes?”

“Get me an investigation unit.  Have them find out what
really
happened on Masuyo.”

Yawning, Brent stretched out his arm.  Before it got very far, it impacted against something cold and hard.  Suddenly, he realized he couldn’t see anything.  Feeling his eyes he found them open.  As the memories of Rupert tossing him around took center stage in his mind, he wondered if he had lost his eyesight from the injuries.

Feeling about, he realized he was in some kind of tube.  The edges had deep grooves carved into them.  As he finally understood where he was, his mind requested light.  Instantly the grooves filled with a gentle green glow as energy pulsed through them.  In the illumination, he could make out the nature of the cylinder he was in.

Gently pushing against its top, the entire device retreated into the ceiling.  As Brent stood, he found his legs weaker than he expected.  Studying the room as he leaned against the wall, he recognized the architecture - if you could call it that.  He was in a Shard base.  The black grooved walls stood firm and imposing as random spurts of green energy flowed in seemingly random patterns.  Just as he was starting to feel confident his legs could support his weight, a man entered the room.  He recognized him as
Henry
, and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Something amusing?”

“I just appreciate your choice in names, Third,” Brent said as he tried to walk away from the wall.

“I suggest you be careful.  You have not used those legs in over two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”

“Sixteen days, ten hours, and twenty-seven minutes to be exact.  The damage you sustained was quite extensive.  In addition, Octavia suggested I prolong your repair as long as possible.”

“Whatever for?” He asked as he stretched his stiff joints.

“She believed you would rush back as soon as you were able.  I concurred.  If I am not mistaken, you are attempting to maintain a low profile.  Miraculously reappearing the next morning in perfect condition after you had been nearly killed the night prior would draw attention no matter what excuse you came up with.”

“Well, I have to agree with that.  Although, I wish you had at least asked me.  It would have been nice if I could have got out and stretched a few times - it feels like I’m made of stone or something.”

“My apologies.  However, I doubt you would have agreed to consensus on the matter, and you know we cannot force you.”

“No need to get defensive.  You two did the right thing, and I don’t hold it against you.  Now, speaking of low profiles, where exactly have you been?  After that first night you just disappeared.”

“I do not trust your current
guests
.  An opportunity to speak to you without their interference did not present itself.”

“Cain and Angela?”  Brent asked in surprise.  “They’re harmless.”

“The female is a Weaver and already suspects me.  The male is the son of the man who dared to rebuild the planet killers.  They are far from harmless.”

Brent sighed.  It was obvious Third was making a
serious
effort not to call them filthy organics.  Plus, there was some merit to his concerns.  He could sense Third’s emotions, but they were obviously artificial.  Far too stable and monotonous to be the real thing.  Also, Cain’s dad
had
threatened the Shard with the massive planet killers during their attempt to wipe out humanity three years ago.

He never actually used it, but they already knew its power.  The weapon had only been used once in the past, and it had been against the Shard.  That single use had ended the Great War.  A war that had raged for over ten thousand years had been brought to an end with a single weapon - it was no wonder the Forged despised it so.

“Fine, fine,” Brent said as he took a seat on a raised platform.  He had no idea what it was for, but it looked relatively comfortable.  “Probably best this way in any case.  You give Cassandra the creeps.”

Third seemed to enjoy that notion and went so far as to smile at the thought.  Brent knew the
real
Third was a massive machine lurking deep beyond the Great Divide, but this human avatar was far easier to talk to.

“So what exactly brings you here?” Brent asked finally.  “You could have contacted me a myriad of other ways.”

“A physical presence was unavoidable.  I could not allow the others to learn of your current status, and this venue allowed the most privacy.”

“My current status?  What are you talking about?”

“Cassandra’s pregnancy of course.”

“Why would the rest of the Forged care?”

“I could not be certain as to their reaction at the prospect of another Forged.”

“Hold on a second, are you saying my child will join the Forged?”

“It is a possibility.”

Brent thought it over.  This was a serious matter.  No wonder Third had made the trek to visit in person.  The Forged ruled over the Shard collectively.  They decided everything of importance together.  Sure, each individual Forged could act independently to a certain degree, but in the end they depended on and were bound to consensus.  Adding another to the Forged was a serious matter, one that might not be welcomed by the existing Forged.

“Do you think they would try to terminate Cassandra?” Brent asked.

“Doubtful, but I cannot be certain.  First is busy practicing his war games on the far end of the galaxy.  I would think he would be apprehensive about the matter.  However, given that you delivered Second’s remains to him, despite consensus his body be repurposed along with our hub world in Commonwealth space, he has largely decided to treat you neutrally.”

“It just didn’t seem right,” Brent said in his defense.  “Even though he was dead, it didn’t seem right to let him be reduced to nothing so callously.”

“Defying consensus on his behalf has endeared you to First somewhat, but do not count on that to override his hatred of organics.”

“First endeared to me . . . now there’s a scary idea for a blind date.”

Third chuckled at the thought.

“As for Fourth and Fifth, they are busy with private matters and have not involved the rest of us.  Fourth would no doubt demand the termination, but I believe Fifth would be able to calm him down to the point he would not take any action.  Sixth is off somewhere, rebuilding
something
.  It is unlikely he would have any interest at all in the matter.  Eighth naturally resides with you.  She has a sickening support of the affair that borders on the nauseating.  Why she has taken such a liking to organics I will never understand.”

“I seem to remember you supporting an end to the destruction of humanity.”

“My interest is purely intellectual.  You surprised me at the uniqueness of humanity.  I had believed that I knew everything about the species.  It would be a terrible waste to lose such information.”

“Hold on, what about Seventh?”

“He departed shortly after consensus was formed that ended the conflict between the organics and the Shard.  When he realized humanity would not be terminated, he decided he could no longer bear to endure the rest of us.  We have not heard from him in the intervening three years.  I hope he stumbles across a particularly large galaxy.”

“Why’s that?”

“He will need it to house his ego.”

Brent couldn’t help but laugh.  Even machines formed opinions of their fellows.  He had only seen Seventh a few times, and yet the image was one he could never forget.  There was no physical form to speak of, just a large sentient sphere of energy.  The form was amazingly beautiful as it constantly changed in appearance.  Just as soon as he thought he had an understanding of Seventh’s nature, it would change completely and defy everything he had thought.  Brent guessed that being so different from the rest of the Forged must have given the creature a bit of a god complex.

“So if the Forged aren’t a threat, why come here in secret?”

“As I said, I cannot be certain.  With the exception of yourself, there has not been an addition to the Forged in a thousand years.  Presented with such news, it is very possible the others would react unexpectedly.”

“I see.  A repeat of Second would be unfortunate.”

Third nodded and for the briefest of moments Brent could sense a great deal of sadness from him.

“How certain are you that my child will be a Forged?” Brent asked quickly to change the subject.

“That’s an awfully cold way to talk about your offspring!” Octavia shouted as she entered the room.  “Couldn’t you say your son or daughter?”

They turned to greet the newcomer.  A single Slasher followed along side her, no doubt one of a vast horde lurking about.  With a simple wave from Octavia, the tripod was dismissed.  In an eloquent motion, the tripod bowed.  It swept its two blades inward, crossing them in what almost looked like an X, as it lowered its glowing orb toward the ground.  As soon as the bow was completed, the Slasher quickly disappeared back into the shadows of the Shard base.

“I don’t mean to be cold,” Brent said with a brief sigh, “I just don’t know the gender.”

“You don’t know?” the little girl asked with a raised eyebrow

“It’s taboo on Jeirude to know that.  If we were on a core world, I’d no doubt already know what my child would look like up to its fifth birthday.  Out here, though, they see it as bad luck.  No one is supposed to know the gender until birth.”

“I didn’t know,” Octavia said apologetically.  “I’ll keep my observations to a minimum from now on.”

“Do they not care about the health of their spawn?” Third asked, sounding halfway between intrigued and disgusted.

“Of course they do,” Brent said with a chuckle.  “They just have some odd customs.  The doctors make sure the baby is healthy and all that.  I’m sure they even know the gender themselves.  They just keep it secret until after the baby is born.”

“I see.  Fascinating.  To answer your question, I cannot be certain of that either.  A Forged has never been born, technically speaking.  The Forged were created artificially.  Yours will be the first organically born.”

“Really?” Brent asked in surprise.  “Has it ever been considered?”

Octavia and Third stared at one another as if they were contemplating it for the first time.

“I suppose humanity isn’t the only one with unspoken taboos,” Brent said with a chuckle.

“I don’t know, it could happen,” Octavia said with a smirk as Third visibly cringed.

“As I said, your interest in such things is truly nauseating,” Third said as he composed himself.

“Oh, be nice!”  The young girl slapped Third on the back and laughed.  “You don’t hear me making fun of your sensor nets.”

He paused and seemed to accept that as an end to the argument.  Suddenly, a thought occurred to Brent.

“Third, shouldn’t you apologize to Octavia?” he asked.

“Apologize?  To Eighth? Why?”

He noticed Octavia winced slightly and tried to smile innocently.

“You didn’t tell her why you were coming,” he said as he kept an eye on Octavia.

“I made no such error.  I informed her of every detail of my visit; the purpose was not concealed.”