The Ascendant Stars (13 page)

It only permitted monochrome visuals and low-quality audio, but if it worked it would suffice. Contact was established with a Hegemony listening post at the edge of Brolturan space. Kuros listened as Gratach used his own codes to identify himself as the ambassador then proceeded to spin a wild, exaggerated tale. Gratach told them that after the loss of the
Purifier
(which they already knew about), and the Spiral armada’s ground invasion, it had been discovered that the zealots had brought dozens of backpack nuclear devices which were now hidden in strategic places throughout the colony. At the first sign of a planetary assault they would be detonated. He then claimed that his forces had captured three Imisil spies who, after questioning, revealed that an Imisil invasion force was already on its way to the Darien system. Kuros listened to all this with barely restrained fury. Clearly, Gratach had thrown in his lot with the Clarified Teshak and the Clarified conspiracy.

The reply came two hours later. Relayed from Iseri, the Sendrukan homeworld, it came from none other than the Second Tri-Advocate. The Brolturans, it seemed, had been on the point of dispatching a relief force but when informed of the severity of the situation decided to formally request military assistance from the Hegemony. The relief force had been stood down and a Hegemony carrier battle group was on its way at maximum speed. The staunch resolve demonstrated by Ambassador Kuros and the Clarified Teshak was already being hailed on news announcements all across the Hegemony, and their valour would most surely not go unrewarded. They were instructed to expect the arrival of the
Solemnitor
and her attendant warcraft in approximately forty-eight hours. A much larger fleet was also being gathered and elements of that could possibly reach the periphery of the Darien system in fifty-five hours.

Once the communication ended, Gratach and Teshak grinned at each other. Kuros heard neither speak but knew that they were conversing via the implants. It was frustrating in the extreme but Kuros allowed himself no luxuries of rage, instead kept his attention on all details within the scope of his perception. Fragments of information could usually be gleaned, and over the last few days, during Gratach’s briefings with the Brolturan officers, Kuros had learned several strange facts.

Like the mysterious deaths of two of the Spiralist leaders, which took place on the same day that Kuros was entombed in his own brain and Giant’s Shoulder was abandoned. The Prophet-Sage himself and his generals, Jeshkra and Hurnegur, had reportedly been attacked by bomb-throwing Humans while observing an assault on the promontory. Only Hurnegur survived, and now the Spiralist hordes were scouring the coastal settlements, rounding up the remaining Humans and confining them in camps. Teshak was keeping his Brolturan troops close to home, but still there had been a few skirmishes between aircar patrols and Spiralist gangs on the ground.

As a consequence, most of the Human colonists were trying to get out of the coastal region, some moving south to the Eastern Towns while others went north to the stockaded villages around Trond. For the first three or four days the Spiralist fanatics spread out in mobs and gangs, unopposed and unhindered. Then yesterday one of the comm technicians brought Gratach-in-Kuros a report compiled from shortwave chatter, the substance of which was that a sizeable force of Humans had infiltrated the capital, Hammergard, by night and routed the Spiralists from the city. Apparently crude airships had been used to deliver attack squads to rooftops then later to rain incendiaries on the fleeing zealots. Hearing this, Kuros felt a stab of admiration for the colonists and their willingness to hit back at the invaders. Then there were the probing attacks carried out by the Human resistance against the rogue mechs occupying Giant’s Shoulder. Kuros knew that light irregular troops could not prevail against armoured combat droids.

The Clarified Teshak was waiting at the door to the observation station. A large silver-blue transport case hovered next to him on suspensors. Once inside, Teshak activated the case and it unfolded into the improvised subspace comm device. As the connect system began scanning for specific encrypted channels, Gratach stared out of the window at the heaving sea
.

One glimmer of personal satisfaction persisted throughout Kuros’s imprisonment, this torment of nothingness, and it went by the name Alexandr Vashutkin. Not long after he and his followers took up residence in the Utgard cliff caves, Kuros had sent in shock troops equipped with genetic trackers. Once the insurgents had been stampeded to the various exits and Vashutkin had been captured, the Rus was infused with the nanodust. It only took minutes for the dust to master him, after which he was released.

Vashutkin’s orders had been to capture Greg Cameron for interrogation, or to eliminate him. But Kuros, disconnected, disembodied, had no way to know if Cameron was definitely dead. None of the Brolturan reports spoke of him, although there was mention of Vashutkin being spotted at temporary camps in the Kentigern foothills and leading one of the attacks on Giant’s Shoulder. Was this proof positive that Cameron was in fact dead? Yet the controlled Vashutkin had not sought Kuros out, which implied that he was still alive.

Unknowns and imponderables – Kuros’s attenuated existence consisted of little else.

Now, however, it seemed likely that he would soon discover some authentic facts, perhaps even an explanation that would reveal something useful about the Clarified plan. It was the morning of the fifth day since Kuros’s entrapment and Gratach had left the Brolturan compound and, alone, climbed newly cut steps to the crest of a ridge overlooking the sea and the southern approaches. Now he was inside a dilapidated stone building with the Clarified Teshak, waiting for a subspace comm device to find a specific signal. As before, no words were spoken. An implicit silence held sway.

An alert chimed. Gratach and Teshak exchanged a look and
moved in closer to the device, contained within an opened-up transport case. A holoscreen appeared above a basic console. In its soft blue plane a shiny disc spun, a ready-state graphic, then was replaced by a pale-skinned man in a dark uniform, a monochrome image. He stared out at them.

‘The greatly esteemed Clarified Teshak,’ he said in a high, melodic voice. ‘And his companion must surely be the notable General Gratach … who is yet to take the ascension, if I am not mistaken.’

‘Quite correct, Clarified Dusorn,’ said Teshak. ‘It might be advisable to wait until we have been removed to a more controlled environment before completing our brother’s clarification.’

‘Of course,’ Dusorn said. ‘To that end, another vessel has been added to the carrier battle group, an attack ship tasked to retrieve you from the planet’s surface on arrival, with the tactical situation permitting.’

‘Understood, although I am unclear as to why we are conversing with your Clarified self rather than our illustrious superiors on Iseri.’

A faint smile crossed Dusorn’s features.

‘Negotiations with the traditionalist factions have reached a delicate stage,’ he said. ‘Our superiors are under pressure and also under close observation, therefore responsibility for your continuity has been passed to me.’

Teshak nodded. ‘Respected Dusorn, am I correct in thinking that you are currently on board a vessel, one of your Suneye automata, perhaps?’

‘Your perceptions overcome the limitations of our connection, diligent Teshak,’ said Dusorn. ‘I am indeed on the bridge of the Suneye implementation ship,
Edge
, and I am accompanied by another two craft, the
Hook
and the
Point
. We are in pursuit of a Vox Humana flotilla which is carrying the entire population of the Human enclave on Pyre, a clear-cut demonstration of plunder. As well as the loss of commercial assets, the abduction represents an issue of extreme political sensitivity, which is why we are tracking them down into hyperspace.’

From his niche of darkness, Kuros noticed open puzzlement on Teshak’s face.

‘But the Vox Humana do not possess hyperspace boundary technology.’

‘True, but the Roug do.’

‘Ah, so they are now openly interfering in our design. They could prove to be a serious obstacle.’

Dusorn’s faint smile came and went once more. ‘No need for concern. There is a plan, a long-overdue solution which will remove that flaw from the patterns of our design. In the meantime, the first stages of the conflict are proceeding on schedule. History drives the Imisil into our deadly arms, although it appears that their fleet will now arrive after the Hegemony carrier group, not before. The clash will still result in a Hegemony defeat: reports will prompt the Brolturans to enter the fray alongside advance elements of the Hegemony fleet, which will soon be joined by an Earthsphere adjunct. The remaining Imisil vessels will be thoroughly defeated, possibly obliterated. With no other alliances in this region, the Imisil Mergence will petition the other members of the Erenate to send a combined armada and will succeed.’ Dusorn nodded. ‘By which time the conclave of Tri-Advocates will realise that open war is certain to force major powers like the Milybi and the Indroma to actively oppose us. Withdrawal will be inevitable.’

‘Defeat and dishonour, with a minimum damage to our military,’ said Teshak. ‘The multiclans, the families, the great throng of all Sendrukans will demand a change of administration and a new direction.’

‘The pact with the traditionalists is expected to be signed in the next few hours,’ said Dusorn. ‘By the time our vessel arrives with the carrier group the news will have broken. Now I must end this discussion – new complexities in our pursuit demand my attention.’

‘Thank you for the updates and elucidation,’ Teshak said.

Dusorn gave a wordless nod and abruptly the holoplane was empty. Teshak tapped a console control and the screen vanished as the encased communicator began to pack itself away.

The AI-controlled Sendrukans turned to face each other and for several unsettling moments Kuros shared Gratach’s unflinching eye contact with the Clarified Teshak. At last Teshak relaxed slightly, nodded, and leaned forward.

‘Utavess Kuros,’ he said. ‘I know that you can hear me. The valiant General Gratach assures me that your personality core is stable and aware of sight and sound. As you will have observed, the meticulous project of the Clarified takes another step towards its culmination. Soon the Hegemon’s favourites will be deposed and out of the ruined dusk of their rule a new dawn shall rise; we will be in control and when a stronger Hegemony stands forth an age of glory shall begin. You will not survive to see it, of course, but your part will not go unremarked.’

As they laughed on their way out of the building, Kuros seethed with helpless fury. Yet a calmer part of him considered what he had learned and reasoned that war was the cradle of accidents and coincidences. Even the most meticulous of projects were bound to encounter factors of unpredictability.

From an oval window in the starboard lounge of the
Viteazul
, Kao Chih sat watching dull red starlight spill over the edge of a flat continent-sized habitat. Its orbit had carried it out of the gas giant’s shadow and now a dirty crimson radiance was streaming over its surface, brightening the sides of hills and cliffs, buildings and motionless vehicles on transport lanes. The habitat’s surface was desolate, airless and grey, most of its structures had eroded and collapsed into crumbling ruins, vehicles pitted by centuries of meteorites, the frozen ground covered with dust. There were another twenty-four of these colossal habitats, every one a lifeless sepulchre locked into an ancient orbit.

Any other time Kao Chih would have regarded these examples of macro-engineering with fascination. But they were the last remnants of a dead civilisation, desiccated remains buried deep in the decayed depths of hyperspace. All he could do for the time being was try to stave off a crushing anxiety about their current predicament.

Pursued by three Suneye warships, the Roug–Vox Humana flotilla with its Pyre passengers had fled down through the levels of hyperspace. Guided and protected by Roug technology, the flotilla managed to make a series of boundary jumps, varying their length with lateral, cross-tier directions, even making the occasional double-back up a level or two. But still the Suneye vessels managed to find them, relentlessly and without fail …

Then the
Nestinar
suffered a major malfunction in its navigationals and the entire flotilla was forced to make an emergency boundary exit which landed them here in this tier of guttering stars, littered with the ruins of artificial worldlets. That had been less than an hour ago. Right now the five Marauder craft were engaged in a desperate rearguard fight against the three Suneye ships while the flotilla sought refuge among the gas giant’s orbiting flock of entombed landscapes. Time was needed to repair the
Nestinar
’s systems, which on closer inspection turned out to have been sabotaged. And time was running out.

Kao Chih was dividing his attention between the view outside and a flatscreen hanging on a nearby partition. There were another half-dozen or so scattered around the big lounge, all showing the same feed to clustered groups of worried-looking Pyre colonists. It was the ongoing battle taking place halfway across the star system, realtime video streaming directly from the long-range sensors. There was no sound. The main picture followed the Vox Humana Marauders, switching between them as they swooped, looped and sideslipped, dodging enemy fire as they lined up for attack run after attack run.

Even before the sabotage on board the
Nestinar
, Kao Chih had twice gone to the
Viteazul’s
bridge to ask if there were any duties he could carry out and both times he was asked to return to the civilian zones. Soon after, access to the bridge and operations decks was restricted to crew only. It left him feeling helpless and disregarded, emotions he saw reflected in the faces around him. Decades of oppression would tend to ingrain a certain hopelessness, a fatalistic acceptance of bad fortune and undeserved punishment. Yet he recalled reports of how unarmed colonists had fought off the Va-Zla thugs during the evac. Hope and a route to freedom had helped them forget the habits of servitude in a moment.