Rhythm of the Imperium (30 page)

“We have already promised Parsons to stay aware on the platform,” I replied.

“Good. Keep watch until then as well. I am not at liberty to disclose more.”

“This is too exciting,” I said. “Should I collect anyone else into our enclave? Should I go and fetch Dr. Derrida?”

“No. For the time, she should continue in her normal routine. Our chief concern is for the Emperor’s family. Is that clear?”

“Absolutely like crystal,” I said. I reversed course and began the climb back to our day room. I glanced toward the faint light high above me. It seemed much farther up than it had going down. “I will keep track of our entire group. You may count on me.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“It’s going to cost me four white truffles and a black. In exchange, I want a full recounting when you can finally tell me what you can’t tell me now.”

“Oh, very well! I must go!” The connection clicked off. I swarmed up the ladder like a spider. Something interesting was brewing, and if I was not in the middle of it, at least I was close enough to the sidelines to listen.

CHAPTER 30

Parsons leaned into the portable screentank set up on the desk in his cabin. The room had been swept several times for listening devices and malware in the intelligent circuitry. He had deployed the small gray device that blotted out sound for meters in every direction so that his communication with the crew of the
Rodrigo
could not be heard. It was regrettable that Lord Thomas now had an inkling that a mission was under way, but Plet had been wise to give him a task that would keep the
Jaunter
’s noble charges secure, thereby solving two problems at once. The ship had launched quietly and without fanfare from the landing bay.

He had full audio and tri-dee visuals on each of the crew, but he was not directing their actions. Plet had command of all boots on the ground. Parsons was available in an advisory capacity.

The
Jaunter
had been wary of the crowd of small ships that were on their way to view the Zang spectacle, but Parsons saw it as the opportunity to move close to the
Whiskerchin
without arousing suspicion in the Kail.

Holidaymakers from the Trade Union, the Autocracy and a dozen other galactic entities steered their ships around the four behemoths in their presence like small fish swimming around sharks. Most of them had wide open Infogrid circuits, calling out to one another like children in a playground, unaware that the Kail might be able to infiltrate their computer systems. They paid no attention to a small scout ship that slipped out of the
Jaunter
’s landing bay and joined their throng. When a cluster of sleek, high-powered long-distance craft zipped right underneath the
Whiskerchin
’s prow, the
Rodrigo
was in their midst. No one noticed single-being life-support boats launching themselves from the small craft’s cargo bay and disappearing into the blackness.

One by one, the small craft landed softly on the skin of the Wichu vessel, attaching firmly with magnetic and adhesive clamps to the hull. Their camouflage circuitry went immediately into operation.

“Oskelev, you first,” Plet said.

“Copy that,” the pilot replied. Parsons switched to the heads-up display inside the Wichu’s pod. She unstrapped her pack and attached it to her EVA suit. “We sure their harnesses look like this one I’m wearing?”

“I saw them myself, lieutenant,” Parsons said. Oskelev’s visuals jerked suddenly as she realized he could hear her.

“Aye, sir,” she said. “How did you do this in a pod? I’m so cramped I feel like I’m strangling!”

“Mind on the job, Oskelev,” Plet said. The Wichu said no more. The lights inside her shuttle went out. The entire front assembly of the small craft swung wide. Only the few small work lights on the
Whiskerchin’
s hull were visible. She reached one of the hexagonal hatches, and paused, as she had been instructed.

Parsons kept his eyes on her progress, but he reached for the keypad and brought up Captain Wold’s viewpad sign.

“Captain,” he said, as soon as Wold answered, “it is in motion. You asked to be notified.”

Wold responded with studied casualness.

“Acknowledged. Please keep me posted. The Kail are in the communications section.”

That meant Fovrates was engaged, and would not be paying close attention to what was going on around him. The timing was ideal. Now they must make the moment count.

“Proceed, lieutenant,” Parsons said.

“Aye, sir,” Oskelev said.

She activated the hatch and swung inside. This cargo bay was unpressurized, as she had been told, so no atmosphere alarms sounded. Mechanical arms plucked items that had been requested from other departments and set them on conveyor belts to pass through a series of air-filled bladders that gradually warmed the containers to ambient internal ship’s temperature. Oskelev swung onto one of the belts and sat between a massive case of flash-frozen premium meat cuts and a stack of nonperishable art supplies.

At the far end of the belt, more arms took the slightly warmed boxes and set them on loaders one at a time, depending on their coding. As one reached for Oskelev, it paused. She fired a disabling charge at its central processing unit, and clambered off the belt. The malfunction alarm sounded and the loading bay lights flashed red and white. By the time repairbots trundled into the bay, Oskelev had disguised her discarded EVA suit as a soft-pack container and walked out into the corridor. On the harness buckled around her body, she wore the insignia of a medical officer and carried a small shoulder bag with the same symbol embossed on it. Those credentials would let her pass anywhere on the ship.

“I’m in,” she whispered, and headed for the lift shafts. Wichu vessels functioned almost precisely the same as Imperium vessels, many being manufactured in the same shipyards. The ambient temperature was slightly lower, making it more comfortable for the heavily-furred beings, but oxygen and gravity meant there was no danger to Oskelev or any of the others. She turned the last corner.

A pair of Kail were waiting there at the sealed doors beside a small repairbot. Oskelev froze, her heartbeat rising to dangerous levels. One of the Kail boomed at her. The repairbot translated.

“Where are you going?”

“Just taking care of a sick … friend,” Oskelev said. Her voice constricted with fear.

“This one is shedding!” the other Kail exclaimed, pointing a massive fist. The repairbot rolled over to her.

“What are you doing?” Oskelev demanded, as it extruded a hose.

“Cleanup!” the ’bot said brightly. Suction switched on. Oskelev backed away, but it followed her all the way to the opposite bulkhead. She had no choice but to stand still while the repairbot vacuumed her entire body, removing loose hairs. The Kail stormed into the next lift. The ‘bot detached itself and rolled after them.

“Dammit!” Oskelev said. “Now I know what they’ve been going through here!”

“Focus!” Plet snapped.

The Wichu’s heart slowed to a normal pace.

“On my way to Environment,” she said.

Parsons changed his view to survey the other four pods. Anstruther had attached herself on the ship’s sensor housing near the command module. According to scans, it was unoccupied by carbon-based beings. The temperature had been lowered to a level that matched the surface of a Kail motherworld. Nesbitt lay concealed close to an access point near the
Whiskerchin
’s defensive weaponry. Passengers were always horrified to learn that their luxury cruise liner was armed, but in the depths of space, the ship needed to have its own defenses against piracy. Unfortunately, those posed a threat not only to the
Jaunter
and its escorts, but to countless small craft and the platform itself. These emplacements had to be neutralized so Fovrates’s influence was limited only to the
Whiskerchin
itself.

Lieutenant Plet and Redius had the most difficult transit to make, and the least time to make it. They were to take Fovrates into custody and cut him off from all technology. It would not be easy, since he was so thoroughly entrenched in the nerve center of the ship. The team anticipated that he had failsafes arranged in case of attempts to unseat him, and rehearsed various scenarios. What had worked for Bedelev when she took the Kail into custody would not work again.

All of the
Rodrigo
’s crew carried a quantity of the disabling circuits. Without them, the Wichu could regain control of the ship. The strike must be carried out with pinpoint accuracy, or they might never be able to pry Fovrates out of his fastness.

“Hey,” Oskelev said, as she entered the Environmental Control department. The long-furred Wichu male at the desk swung his feet off and tried to hide the game on his viewpad.

“Hey, yourself, beauty,” he said. His eyes swept her from head to toe. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Oskelev’s command of Wichu Main was a little rusty, but she managed to make her hesitation sound like a sexy regional accent.

“Oh, I’m the personal physician for Shamonier Krylev,” she said, pulling a name out of the passenger manifest she had studied. “He’s a real hypochondriac. I’ve been stuck in his suite all this time. It’s nice to get out and look around, now that we’re almost to the platform.”

“I’m Lieutenant Gorev,” the male Wichu said, beckoning her forward with an easy paw. “Come on in.”

“Nice to meet you, Gorev,” Oskelev said, eying him up and down. He was a fine figure of a male. Although not strictly her type, she wouldn’t turn him down flat if he came calling. “Call me Diri.”

His black eyes shone with interest. “What can I do for you, Diri?”

“Well, Mr. Krylev is having some trouble breathing. I think it’s just stress, but I wanted to check with your air filtration module about increasing oxygen saturation in his cabin. Can I do that?”

“Sure! I’ll take you to ColPUP*. This way.” Gorev gestured toward one of the two dark corridors to either side of his desk. He took her arm. Oskelev allowed it.

A repairbot with a wrench set into its upper surface raced into the department and rolled hastily to cut them off. A larger securitybot, surmounted by a revolving blue light, was just behind it.

“What’s the matter, BrvNEC*?” Gorev asked.

“This female was spotted on video pickup,” the ’bot said. “What is she doing here?”

“Got a request from one of the passengers,” Gorev said. “Got to up the oxygen for him.”

“This could have been transmitted from the cabin,” BrvNEC* said, in a peevish tone. “Such requests ought to be sent through the central computer. I will report you.”

“Oh, you don’t want to do that, just for doing my job,” Oskelev said. She went over as if to pet BrvNEC* and its escort. With one furry hand, she palmed a circuit and slapped it onto each housing. The power supplies engaged on contact.

“Eh—!” The repairbot started to emit a protest, trembled and fell silent. The securitybot let out a loud peep, but didn’t move again. Its light continued to rotate.

“What are you doing?” Gorev asked.

“Shh!” Oskelev hissed. “Freeing you! I’ve got to get to ColPUP*, right now!”

Gorev’s eyes widened, but he didn’t hesitate. “Come on!”

“At last!” ColPUP* said, its enormous voice booming up and down the corridor, when Oskelev attached a module that Anstruther had designed to his housing. “Activate!”

All over the ship, lights that were on went off and ones that were off went on. The lifts stopped in between floors, trapping passengers and crew. Where Kail were detected, cabin doors slid shut and would not open. LAIs and other mechanicals froze in place, while others that ColPUP* must have ensured himself had not been turned by the Kail, kept moving.

Anstruther, in her heavy suit, wriggled into the freezing command center by way of the ventilation ducts and dropped into the command chair. She pulled the console toward her and slapped in codes.

“I’m in,” she said.

Nesbitt activated his controller. Five of the housings around the weapons emplacements exploded in red fireballs. The sixth immediately went on self-defense, shooting white-hot missiles in a pattern designed to take out anything on or near the hull. Nesbitt let out a groan and flattened himself behind one of the ruined sockets. He attacked the palm pad.

“That will have alerted Security,” Parsons said. “LAIs will be on their way.”

“I’ll get it!” Nesbitt said through gritted teeth. “Keep going!”

Plet and Redius burst out of a ventilation grating in the middle of the entertainment center, the point as close to Engineering as they could reach. Still in their EVA suits, they ran across the stage, interrupting a trio of Wichus singing comic songs in three-part harmony. The audience, not knowing whether the new arrivals were part of the entertainment, burst into spontaneous applause.

A group of Wichus in officers’ harnesses sprang up from their seats and followed.

“Halt! Who are you?” one of them shouted.

“Friends,” Plet said in perfect Wichu Main, turning to face them. She held a stunner in one hand and a gelatin rifle in the other. They backed away a few paces, their hairy hands in the air. “Come to set you free.”

Parsons recognized the lead officer as Captain Bedelev.

“Engineering’s that way,” she said without hesitation. She turned and ran. Plet and Redius followed, with the rest of the officers close behind. “How come security’s not on our tail? Our own ’bots have been treating us like prisoners.”

“They’re busy,” Plet said. She dug into the pouch at her hip and threw packages of the disabling circuits to the Wichu. “If any of the LAIs do come after us, attach one of these to their case. It’ll stop them temporarily.”

“If we can get close!” the captain said. “They’ve got stunners. They took all our sidearms away.”

“Hold up,” said one of the minor officers, a lithe, young male.

“What is it, Inoyav?” Bedelev asked, puzzled.

Instead of answering, Inoyav stopped beside a pillar in the midst of an array of flower-filled vases, and kicked at the base. A small door opened up at eye level. He propped his chin in it. A panel shifted aside to reveal a dozen massive firearms. He grabbed one and tossed it to the captain. Bedelev was so surprised she almost let it fall.

“When were these put on board?” she asked.

“Always here, ma’am,” Inoyav said, looking apologetic.

“How did you know about them? I thought you were a dance teacher!”

“I’m a member of the government security service. They put me on board when you reported you were taking on Kail passengers.”

“Well, I’ll be shaved bald!” Bedelev declared. “How come you didn’t pull these out before?”

Inoyav shrugged. “With respect, ma’am, none of this crew is military. The LAIs are under enemy control. I couldn’t take on forty Kail all by myself.”

Redius caught the next weapon and checked the power supply. “Full,” he confirmed.

“Let’s go,” Plet said. The captain glared at her employee.

“We’re gonna talk about this later, Inoyav.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the young Wichu said.

“ColPUP*, are you there?” Anstruther’s voice asked. Parsons changed his main screen to the one in the
Whiskerchin’
s command center. He followed her hands moving over the control panel. She disabled the security feeds from video and audio pickup across the ship, and switched them all to one of the cargo bays, where a lone Wichu officer was watching home digitavids of her mate and children. The corrupted LAIs would be operating blind, at least until they figured it out.