Inherit the Stars Read online

  He gave her a brisk nod. “The pirate ships have fled, but nothing of worth was taken from the fortress, Captain.”

  “What of the slaves the pirates kept?” Seul’s mind flashed to the ragged human children down there.

  “Forward reports have indicated all noncombatants were left planetside, Captain.” The officer hesitated. “Commander Vuul expects a briefing.”

  Seul nodded and headed to the bridge. More incoming Troopers passed her, speaking of pirates augmented with Sarrhdtuu coils or carapace armor. No wonder the pirates had fought so well.

  “What did those animals do to you, Captain Jaah?” a voice behind her asked.

  “Nothing I won’t survive from.” Seul turned. “Kael?”

  Kael nodded in salute. “I am very glad to see you back, Captain. We feared you had been lost over Vstrunn.”

  “Help me to the bridge.” Seul leaned on his shoulder and placed his hand around her waist.

  Looking around, Kael gulped. “Captain, I . . .”

  “That’s an order.” Seul wrapped her left arm around his waist, and they continued. A few crew members frowned at them in passing. She didn’t care. Seeing how Kivita missed her own lover made Seul openly appreciate Kael.

  “What happened after I was taken?” Seul asked.

  “An Inheritor battleship carrying the Rector himself fired on Aldaar. Commander Vuul ordered a withdrawal, based on the second human trawler’s trajectory. The one you were on.” A glance from him told Seul he had missed her. Good. “The Archivers have been woken from cryostasis. They are speaking with Commander Vuul now.”

  Seul squeezed his hand as they neared the bridge. Smiling, he squeezed back and walked away.

  His words sobered her, but Kael’s smile made Seul’s cryoports gape open. She needed it, after letting Kivita go. The human woman had lied and threatened her with an empty gun, but Seul found no bitterness in her heart. Kivita’s comment about Seul’s daughter had sounded sincere. No Aldaakian would have said that.

  Seul’s musings faded as she entered Aldaar’s bridge. Three Archivers waited, their solid white uniforms topped with black collars. Each held a computer chit booklet.

  Vuul stared at her with cold eyes.

  “Commander Vuul.” Seul inclined her head and touched both chest cryoports.

  “Captain Jaah,” Vuul said. “Due to your message, Aldaar was able to track your location. The Terresin Expanse would have garbled our scanners for days. Yet I see no Vim datacore in your possession, as mentioned in your radio message.”

  Seul’s cryoports tightened. “Commander, the datacore was never in my possession. I’ve been a prisoner until I was liberated by my comrades. The Juxj Star is on one of the human ships that departed.”

  Vuul strolled over to her, hands behind his back. “Which ship? Nine squads searched the planetside fortress. We suffered heavy losses.”

  “Kivita Vondir’s ship,” Seul said. “She asked me to send the message.”

  The Archivers mumbled among themselves while Vuul’s staff shared uneasy looks.

  Seul fought down frustration. “She wanted to bargain the gem for her ship, or perhaps—”

  “Do you suppose she could send another signal to the Vim?” Qaan, the lead Archiver, asked.

  “Track that vessel’s course and make the jump,” Vuul said. “Send a message to all Commanders in Aldaakian Space: mobilize for a possible Inheritor invasion.”

  The orders sent a noticeable ripple of tension through the operations staff. Seul almost stepped forward, but caught herself. Alerting the other Aldaakian fleets would accomplish nothing. It would take years to assemble them, and for what? Kivita would be out of their grasp by then.

  “The human craft’s trajectory leads to the Tejuit system,” an operations officer said.

  “Commander Vuul, Kivita still might bargain for the Juxj Star. It stands to reason that the pirate ships forced her to flee.” Seul remained at attention, her wounds throbbing through the cold packs.

  “You could renegotiate a deal with this salvager?” Vuul asked.

  “A Shock Trooper is not trained in the correct disciplines to make this human understand her importance,” Qaan said. “Kivita Vondir must be questioned by us.”

  Seul kept her face expressionless. “Shekelor Thal had a Sarrhdtuu-enhanced keypad on his ship, Commander Vuul. Kivita knew the keypad’s sequence.”

  Qaan sniffed. “Impossible! Sarrhdtuu codes are too complex.”

  Silence fell over the bridge as Vuul held up a hand. Aldaar shuddered as it made a light jump and left Umiracan behind.

  Seul took a breath and spoke, ignoring protocol. “Commander, Shekelor planned to sell her to someone, perhaps the Sarrhdtuu. Others want her.”

  Vuul sat in his command chair and glowered. “The signal you sent contained traces of a Sarrhdtuu message. Kivita’s ship is equipped with a Sarrhdtuu beacon, and she knows Sarrhdtuu codes? She cannot be trusted.”

  “She activated the Vim signal sent from Vstrunn,” Seul said. Years of training and authoritarian conditioning kept her tone respectful, but . . . hadn’t Kivita spoke her mind?

  “Commander Vuul, the pilot of the impounded trawler also cracked Aldaar’s clamp code,” a staff officer said.

  Vuul’s expression darkened.

  Seul’s cryoports sank into her flesh. “That is how she escaped?”

  “And you withheld this information, Commander Vuul?” Qaan murmured.

  “What can a human mercenary do to save our tattered civilization?” Vuul’s flat tone cut through the air. “Listen to yourselves. The Inheritors are gathering to destroy us this time. Our way of life, our children, our species! We should trust our weaponry and training, not the slim possibility this human woman and that gem represent.”

  “Statisticians proclaim an eighty-eight percent probability that Kivita Vondir is a Savant,” Qaan said. “Yet reports state that brain-pulse analyzers detected no Savants or datacores in the fortress.”

  Vuul stood. “The leader of the Inheritors himself appeared after the Vim signal was sent. This is all a ploy to lure us into disaster.”

  Qaan cleared his throat. “Our enemies want Kivita, and that is enough. We must interrogate her about the Vim signal, Commander.”

  “I think she is more than a Savant. Everything so far has happened because of her.” Seul glanced from Qaan to Vuul. To her surprise, the Archivers nodded in assent.

  “That is why we are following her ship, Captain Jaah,” Vuul said. “But not to feed into the hysteria that is building aboard this ship. Since you may be able to sway Kivita, I am assigning you the task of acquiring her. Use all means to find her, but I want the Juxj Star most of all.”

  “This human may not come peacefully, Commander Vuul,” Qaan said. “Or relinquish the gem.”

  “Then execute her. Is that understood, Captain Jaah?”

  She inclined her head, though her cryoports clamped so hard, they hurt. “Yes, Commander Vuul.”

  Vuul’s fear that Kivita might be a Sarrhdtuu tool or an Inheritor plant nagged Seul as she left the bridge.

  She’d not hurt or kill Kivita.

  Disobeying orders, though, would earn her own death sentence. Kivita wouldn’t give up the Juxj Star, else she would have done so at Umiracan. Seul had never seen such hope on the faces of the operations staff. How could she destroy it?

  Inside the Medical Ward, several Troopers squirmed on bloody cots. One still had a human sword protruding from his left side. Another’s hand had been sliced off, and one was missing her eye. Less fortunate ones passed Seul on covered stretchers. They’d join Niaaq Aldaar and his loyal host, floating forever in the void.

  An attendant removed Seul’s cold packs and lathered her wounds in amino jelly. One medic examined her cryoports with prongs and scrapers. Afterward, Seul stripped and stepped into a vat fill
ed with chemical slush. Her lungs labored to work in the subfrozen liquid.

  Three flat displays highlighted Seul’s diagnostics. One showed the infant name list. Seul’s heart jumped.

  “Signs of corrupted pseudoadrine seepage. We’ll have to clean your teeth and palate,” the medic said, as she studied the displays. “No unusual menstrual activity since your last examination. Your ovaries might produce a few more eggs for the Pediatric Ward. Those humans don’t use enough radiation shielding on their ships. How they manage to breed so much is beyond me.”

  Seul felt like she could float from the vat. Once her people reunited with the Vim, maybe a security clearance would allow her to birth and raise her own child. Her excitement spawned a grin as Kael entered the room.

  The medic frowned at him. “Shouldn’t you be in cryostasis?”

  “Officer Kael can help me to my cryopod when you are finished,” Seul said.

  Kael knelt beside the vat’s edge as the medic walked away. “Vuul must have been easy on you.”

  Seul’s grin faded. “I’ve been assigned to find Kivita Vondir, once we exit this jump. I’ll need Aldaar’s best pilot. I won’t accept a negative, Officer Kael.”

  “Is she that dangerous?” Kael touched the scratch on her cheek. “I heard Vuul thinks she is a threat.”

  “No, but I think she is linked to the Vim somehow.” Seul glanced at the infant list once more.

  “Why are you looking at that again?” Kael asked in an amused tone.

  The chemical slush made her shiver. “One of those names could be her. I don’t like the way you said that.”

  Kael withdrew his hand from her scarred cheek. “Forgive me, Captain Jaah. But the Pediatric Ward knows best.”

  Swishing through the slush, she gripped his hands. “If your sperm had fertilized my egg, how would you feel about it?”

  “I . . . Captain Jaah, please.” Kael’s cryoports gave an audible squeeze.

  She gripped his hands harder. “Would it shame you, then?”

  Embarrassment left his eyes. “I would be honored, Captain Jaah.”

  Seul sank to her neck and beamed. “I’ll need your help once we reach Tejuit. Will you keep a secret?”

  “Yes, but—”

  Seul pulled him closer to her and lowered her voice. “We’re not going to kill Kivita Vondir. We’re going to save her.”

  • • •

  Zhhl’s hologram stared back at Dunaar. “Terredyn Narbas and Frevyx escaped. The Aldaakians have left. Our ally is reclaiming his ship and planetary fortress.”

  Dunaar mopped sweat off his head with a yellow towel. “At least five years have passed on Haldon Prime since we departed. I cannot be away much longer. You are certain our quarry will be coming here?”

  Outside the viewport, the pink, blue, and green gas giant of Tejuit Seven dominated the scene. The system was the largest trading hub in the Cetturo Arm. Inheritors, Tannocci, Naxans, and even Aldaakians sent merchant fleets there to conduct business. Like his predecessors, Dunaar participated only to maintain a presence in the system and to spy on rivals.

  “The beacon on Terredyn Narbas will reveal Kivita Vondir’s position,” Zhhl said. “The Aldaakians will realize Sarrhdtuu involvement. Confrontation is unavoidable now.”

  Dunaar smiled. In addition to Arcuri’s Glory, he had six cruisers and two other battleships waiting in the system. More would be coming. “How difficult will it be for Kivita to remove the beacon? Surely she knows about it by now.”

  “Sarrhdtuu technology inlays itself into the hull. Kivita Vondir will either have to dismantle her ship or reverse the implantation code, which only a Sarrhdtuu can accomplish.” Zhhl’s voice slurred.

  “Very well.” Dunaar risked the Thedes getting the redheaded salvager and the gem, since Tejuit was clogged with starship traffic. The reward still outweighed such dangers. “When can I expect the arrival of your own ships?”

  “Soon, Prophet of Meh Sat.” The connection ended.

  Dunaar leaned against a quartz wall mural and swathed his face in the towel. Though Haldon Prime was in the hands of subordinate prophets, Dunaar had never been this far from the Compound. But no one else could be trusted with these tasks.

  The fabricated news brief from Vstrunn had already been dispatched in a wideband signal. By now, most in orbit around Tejuit would have seen it. What else would these fools think if Dunaar didn’t give it to them?

  He tapped the intercom panel in his quarters. “Captain Stiego, keep Arcuri’s Glory at the farthest fringes of the system. When the Sarrhdtuu signal from Terredyn Narbas is detected, you may alert me. Until then, all aboard will remain in cryostasis on the usual shifts.”

  “As you wish, Rector,” Stiego replied, and Dunaar exited the chamber. Near the end of the corridor, two Proselytes opened a doorway. Inside, Bredine sat on the floor, eating gruel with her hands. Her cryopod waited nearby. Dunaar motioned to the Proselytes, who yanked Bredine to her feet.

  He gouged a finger into her right breast. “Tell me again what this shows you about Queen Terredyn Narbas.” Dunaar touched Bredine’s head with the Scepter. “Before I enter cryostasis.”

  With a gasp, Bredine went limp, and the Proselytes held her up by her armpits. Her eyes moved beneath closed lids.

  “Colony ship. Sixteen thousand in stasis.” Bredine’s voice lost the broken, chaotic phrasings she usually spoke in. Whenever she decoded a datacore, it seemed a different woman spoke.

  “Yes?” Dunaar asked.

  “The Rectifier. He stands in his yellow suit, watching. It is his responsibility to maintain the Handlers so all are cared for.” Bredine’s eyes fluttered.

  Dunaar tried to imagine what she must be seeing: a huge starship filled with cryopods, with one man protecting all. Even in ancient, prefeudal times, a Rectifier ensured the Vim’s children achieved their destiny. A Rector, as the position came to be known, knew what was best for all.

  “And where does the ship come from?” Dunaar asked in a whisper.

  Bredine pursed her lips. “Meh Sat. Yellow, warm light.”

  Dunaar caressed her forehead. “Do you still see Terredyn Narbas coming to the Cetturo Arm from that system?”

  “Yes. She leaves a world of inferno, her ship afire. It crashes on a world of deep blue oceans.”

  His hand traveled down her neck and nestled between her breasts. “What did she flee from?”

  “She fled the enemies that are still waiting for us. Beyond the blackest void.”

  Thank the Vim. Some new information this time. Dunaar leaned into Bredine, his bulk making the Proselytes brace themselves. Sweat from his face trickled onto hers.

  “You mean the Aldaakians? This information will prove them as enemies of the Vim once and for all.” He sucked the flesh of Bredine’s neck between his teeth.

  “Not Aldaakians. They are . . . they . . .” Bredine’s voice faltered. “The pain . . .”

  “More,” he breathed into her ear, and rubbed her crotch. “Who are they?”

  “The pain!” she screamed.

  Dunaar shoved the end of the Scepter into her mouth and clutched her throat. “How can this dead queen still haunt us? Tell me, bitch! Tell me!” He pulled the Scepter from her mouth and pressed it under her chin.

  Trembling, Bredine’s eyes fluttered again. “Hmm? Rector, Rector. Don’t turn void black. Yes?”

  The return of her normal voice made Dunaar step back and slap her. Blood flew from her busted lip. He slammed the Scepter into her right side. Wheezing, she vomited up gruel. Dunaar rapped her across the knees with the Scepter as sweat poured down his back, over the bridge of his nose.

  Her green stare remained fixed on him.

  “You will reveal the rest later. Place her in cryo,” Dunaar said.

  Stomping back to his chamber, Dunaar’s anger gave way to a new idea: Kivit
a could read the Scepter for him instead, before he turned her over to Zhhl.

  The Scepter felt warm in his grasp. The means mattered little.

  16

  Still in her two-piece underwear, Kivita gaped at Tejuit Seven’s massive curvature outside the bridge viewport. She’d visited the Tejuit system only once, as an eight-year-old with her father. Those memories seemed to stare back at her from the gas giant’s blue, green, and pink storms.

  She studied the console’s readout scan, just like she’d done so many years ago. One-hundred and three thousand miles in diameter. A seventy-eight-hour day, coupled with an 8,053-day year. The numbers, the scale, the galactic majesty—they still amazed her, like they did then.

  “I’ve been looking, Father, but I don’t know if I’ve found it yet,” she whispered.

  Kivita studied the console readout again. It was Charter Year 11,414, and . . . wait a second.

  Tejuit was fourteen light years from Haldon and six from Ecrol. For Terredyn Narbas, six light years meant a two-year journey. Her pod’s life monitor claimed she’d been in cryostasis for only eight months.

  Those strange coordinates she’d entered had cut her trip by two-thirds.

  A fresh tingle at her scalp sent a wave of nausea over Kivita. Who or what was giving her this information? The code to open Shekelor’s starship, the code to unlock Aldaar’s clamp, and now coordinates that defied time and space. Kivita covered her mouth and gripped her stomach. What was happening to her? Could anybody help, or—?

  Oh, shit.

  She’d forgotten about the Sarrhdtuu beacon aboard her ship! Trembling in the cold air, Kivita hunched over the computer console.

  She did a wideband scan. The usual merchant and refugee traffic occupied the system, and a gathering of Tannocci vessels orbited the other side of the planet. Kivita set the proximity alarm to full, which would warn her of any approaching craft. Holding her breath, she performed a quick check of Terredyn Narbas’s systems.

  “Worked you over good, didn’t I, girl?”

  Those wild maneuvers over Umiracan had scorched Terredyn Narbas’s starboard sensor couplings. A port-side braking thruster lacked full power, and surface abrasions now pitted the iron-polymer hull. The pirates’ fluxers had destabilized the aft gravity generator. Terredyn Narbas still functioned, but she might be stranded in the void the next time she needed to escape.