“The Stromboli Separatist Council,” Samuel said suddenly.
“Right,” Alkad acknowledged. “That’s who we sold it to.”
“Ah, we never did find out how they got their antimatter. They blew up two of Crotone’s low-orbit port stations with the stuff.”
“After we left, yes,” Alkad said.
“So Ikela took the money and founded T’Opingtu.”
“Correct; once we found out that the Confederation Assembly granted the Dorados to the survivors of the genocide, all seven navy officers were given an equal share. The plan was for them to invest the money in various companies, the profits from which would be used to help fund the partizans. We needed committed nationalists to crew the ship that they were supposed to prepare for me. After that, they would buy or charter a combat-capable starship to complete the Alchemist mission. As you know, Ikela didn’t fulfill the last part of the plan. I don’t know about the others.”
“Why wait thirty years?” Joshua asked. “Why didn’t you just hire a combat-capable starship as soon as you had the money from the sale of the frigate, and go straight back to the Beezling?”
“Because we couldn’t be sure exactly where it was. You see, we didn’t just repair the Chengho. There were thirty people and the Alchemist left behind on the Beezling. Suppose the Chengho didn’t make it, or suppose we were caught and interrogated by the CNIS or some other agency? There was even the possibility the blackhawks might return. We had to plan for all those factors as well, the remaining crew had to be given their chance, too.”
“They went into zero-tau,” Joshua said. “How does that prevent you from knowing the exact coordinate?”
“Yes, obviously they went into zero-tau, but that’s not all. We also repaired their reaction drive. They flew a vector to an uninhabited star which was only two and a half light-years away.”
“Jesus, a sub-lightspeed journey through interstellar space? You’ve got to be kidding. That’s impossible, it would take—”
“Twenty-eight years, we estimated.”
“Ah!” Realization came to Joshua like the silent detonation of Norfolk Tears after it hit the stomach. He felt a surge of admiration for those lost desperate crews of thirty years ago. Not caring what the odds were, just going for it. “They used antimatter propulsion.”
“Yes. We transferred every gram from our remaining combat wasps into the Beezling’s confinement chambers. It was enough to accelerate them up to about nine per cent lightspeed. So now tell me, Captain, how difficult would it be to locate a ship that is moving away from its last known coordinate at eight or nine per cent lightspeed? And if you did find it, how would you rendezvous?”
“Not possible. Okay, you have to wait until the Beezling decelerated and arrived at that uninhabited star. How come you didn’t make a dash for them two years ago?”
“Because we weren’t sure just how efficient the drive would be over such a long period of use. Two years gave us an adequate safety margin; and of course as it turned out, the sanctions would be over. There was always a remote chance the Confederation Navy blockade squadron would detect us, after all it’s their job to be looking for sanction-buster starships emerging in odd places around Omuta. So after we sold the Chengho we decided on thirty years.”
“You mean the Beezling is just orbiting that star waiting for you to make contact?” Liol asked.
“Yes. Providing everything worked as it was supposed to. They are supposed to wait for another five years; the time is irrelevant in zero-tau, but the support systems cannot last indefinitely. If they hadn’t been contacted by then, either by myself and the Chengho crew, or the Garissan government, they were to destroy the Alchemist and start signalling for help. Uninhabited star systems within the Confederation boundaries are inspected on a regular basis by navy patrol ships to make sure they aren’t being used by antimatter production stations. They would have been rescued eventually.”
Joshua glanced around to the serjeant, wishing the construct had some way of displaying emotion; he’d like to know what Ione made of the story.
“Makes sense,” he said. “What do you want to do?”
“We have to see if the Beezling completed its journey,” the serjeant said.
“And if it has?” Samuel asked.
“Then the Alchemist must be destroyed. After that, any surviving crew will be taken back to Tranquillity.”
“Question, Doc,” Joshua said. “If anybody sees the Alchemist, will that give them a clue to its nature?”
“No. You have no worries on that score, Captain. There is however someone among the crew who could tell you how to build another. His name is Peter Adul, he will have to remain in Tranquillity with me. After that, you will be safe again.”
“Okay, what’s the star’s coordinate?”
It was a long time before Alkad said: “Mother Mary, this is not what was meant to be.”
“Nothing ever is, Doc. I learned that long ago.”
“Ha! You’re too young.”
“Depends how you fill the years, doesn’t it?”
Alkad Mzu datavised the coordinate over.
***
> Tranquillity announced.
At the time, Ione was standing knee deep in the warm water of the cove, rubbing Haile’s flank with a big yellow bath sponge. She straightened her back and began wringing out the sponge. Her real attention was focused on a point in space a hundred and twenty thousand kilometres away from the habitat where the vacuum’s gravity density was building rapidly. Three SD platforms orbiting the emergence zone locked their X-ray lasers on to the terminus as it expanded. Five patrol blackhawks accelerated in at four gees.
A large voidhawk slipped out of the two-dimensional rent. > it said. >
> Tranquillity replied after it verified the code. The SD platforms were switched back to alert status. Three of the blackhawks resumed their patrol, while the remaining two curved around to form an escort as Oenone accelerated in towards the habitat.
“I’m going to have to leave you,” Ione said.
Jay Hilton’s vexed face peeped over the top of Haile’s gleaming white back. “What is it this time?” she asked petulantly.
“Affairs of state.” Ione started wading towards the shore. She scooped some water up and tried to flush the sand out of her bikini top.
“You always say that.”
Ione gave the disgruntled girl a forlorn smile. “Because it always is, these days.” > she added.
Haile formshifted the tip of an arm into a human hand and waved. >
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Ione snapped her teeth together. That bloody Calvert! Anger gave way to something more confusing, a sort of resentment … possibly. Hundreds of light-years away, and he still intrudes. >
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Ione took another pace, then laughed. Reviewing everything Joshua had said to the young Kiint would take hours. Hours she hadn’t been spending on the beach of late. Haile was becoming very crafty.
Jay leaned against her friend, watching Ione put her sandals on and start back up the path to the tube station. There was a slightly distracted expression on the woman’s face, that Jay knew meant she was busy talking to the habitat personality. She didn’t
like to dwell on the topic. More than likely, it would be the possessed again. That was all the adults talked about these days, and it was never reassuring talk.
Haile’s arm twined around Jay’s, the tip stroking her gently.
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“I don’t think these horrible possessed will ever go away.”
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“I hope so. I do want Mummy back.”
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“Yes!” Jay grinned enthusiastically and started splashing her way back up to the beach. They’d made the discovery together that Haile with her tractamorphic arms was the universe’s best ever builder of sand castles.
With Jay directing, they had made some astonishing towers along the shoreline.
Haile emerged from the water in a small explosion of spray. >
“So do you. Ione promised to come back for the words.”
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Jay giggled. “She turned purple when you said that. Good job you didn’t say fuck to her.”
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Ione sat down in the tube carriage and began towelling her hair. > The affinity contact broadened, allowing Syrinx to proffer her identity trait.
> Ione acknowledged.
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> The captain faded from the affinity band.
> Tranquillity said. >
> She borrowed the habitat’s external senses to observe local space. They were in Mirchusko’s umbra, with Choisya and Falsia hovering just above the gas giant’s crescent horizon. Apart from the flotilla of blackhawks on patrol around the habitat’s shell, there was little spaceship activity. The Oenone was the first starship to arrive in seventy-six hours. Some MSVs and personnel commuters continued to glide between the counter-rotating spaceport and Tranquillity’s bracelet of industrial stations, but they were running a much reduced flight schedule. A lone dazzle-point of fusion flame was rising up past the drab grey loop of the Ruin Ring, an He3 tanker en route from the habitat’s cloudscoop to the spaceport. > she said. >
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It was a suspicion which was proved unpleasantly correct soon after Syrinx and the admiral were shown into the audience chamber of De Beauvoir Palace. As she listened to Meredith Saldana explain the proposed ambush of Capone’s fleet at Toi-Hoi a swarm of ambiguous feelings lay siege to her mind.
> she confided to Tranquillity.
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“Very well,” she told the admiral. “You have my permission to use Tranquillity for your task force’s port station. I’ll see that you get all the He3 you need.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Meredith said.
“I’m slightly concerned by this flight restriction you wish to place on starships until the ambush, although I do appreciate the logic behind it. I currently have over twenty blackhawks deploying sensor satellites around the orbit where the Laymil home planet used to be. It’s extremely important research work. I’d hate to see it jeopardized.”
“They would only have to be recalled for three or four days at the most,” Syrinx said. “Our scheduling is very tight, here. Surely a small delay wouldn’t effect the research too much?”
“I’ll recall them for now. But if you’re still here after a week, I’ll have to review the policy. As I said, this is part of the effort to find an overall solution. That is not to be regarded lightly.”
“Believe me, we don’t, ma’am,” Meredith said.
She stared at him, trying to work out what was going on behind his blue eyes. But his answering stare offered no clue. “I have to say, I find it ironic that Tranquillity has become so important to the Confederation and the Kingdom after all this time,” she said.
“Ironic or pleasing? Chance has finally brought you the chance to vindicate your grandfather’s actions.”
There was no humour in his tone, which surprised her. She’d assumed he would be more sympathetic than Prince Noton. “You think Grandfather Michael was wrong?”
“I think he was wrong to pursue such an unorthodox course.”
“Unorthodox to the family, perhaps. But I assure you it’s not chance which has brought us together. This whole situation will prove how right he was to act on his foresight.”
“I wish you every success.”
“Thank you. And who knows, one day I might earn your approval, too.”
For the first time, he produced a grudging smile. “You don’t like losing arguments, do you, Cousin Ione?”
“I am a Saldana.”
“That much is painfully obvious.”
“As are you. I don’t think every Confederation admiral would have coped as well as you at Lalonde.”
“I did not cope well. I ensured my squadron survived; most of it, anyway.”
“A Confederation officer’s first duty is to follow orders. Second duty is to the crew. So I believe,” she said. “As your original orders didn’t cover what you encountered, I’d say you did all right.”
“Lalonde was … difficult,” he said heavily.
“Yes. I know all about Lalonde from Joshua Calvert.”
Syrinx, who had been looking considerably ill at ease while the two Saldanas conducted their verbal fencing, glanced sharply at Ione, her eyebrows raised in interest.
“Oh, yes,” Meredith reflected. “Lagrange Calvert. Who could forget him?”
“Is he here?” Syrinx asked. “This is his registered port.”
“He’s away at the moment, I’m afraid,” Ione told her. “But I’m expecting him back any day now.”
“Good.”
Ione couldn’t quite fathom the Edenist’s attitude. >
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***
Athene didn’t want him to come to the house. It would be too upsetting for the children, she explained. Though they bo
th knew it was she who was discomforted by the whole idea; keeping him away was a way of establishing a psychological barrier.
Instead, she chose one of the spaceport reception lounges in the habitat’s endcap. There was nobody else in the spacious room when she arrived, not that there could be any mistake. The hulking figure was sitting on a deep settee in front of the long window, watching service crews bustling around the voidhawks on their pedestals outside. It was a squadron assigned to assist the Kulu Kingdom in the Mortonridge Liberation campaign, one of them would soon be transporting him to Ombey.
> he said, not turning around, >
She walked over to the settee, an extraordinary sense of trepidation simmering in her mind. The figure stood, revealing its true height, several centimetres taller than she. As with all Tranquillity serjeants, its exoskeleton was a faint ruddy colour, although a good forty per cent of its body was covered in bright green medical nanonic packages. It held up both hands, and turned them around, studying them intently, its eyes just visible at the back of their protective slits.
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Athene’s shoulders drooped, mirroring the dismay in her mind. >
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