Into the Light by Jane Wallace
Chapter 25

The twenty hours passed too quickly for Marik, too slowly for the rest of the crew. He was first in his seat, ten minutes before the appointed time, compulsively checking and rechecking the monitors and gauges. The rest of the crew assembled soon after. There was no conversation, just the click of seatbelts and Lauden coughing nervously.

Sevin stood at the captain’s position. The transition from their previous location to the perimeter of the Protected Zone had been smooth. He hoped the rest of the journey would be the same. He watched Marik secure the seat belt and fit the silver torque which allowed Infinity to read and respond to his brain signals. Manoeuvres could be executed far faster by thought than by hand. This kind of time-saving would be crucial in the journey ahead where at some points they had less than a tenth of a second to perform an intricate turn. As Marik tucked strands of fringe under the headgear, Sevin saw his hand shake involuntarily.

‘Ready?’ Sevin asked him.

‘Yes,’ he said, without his usual joke or funny face.

Sevin nodded and sat down, activating his own holostation. ‘Systems?’ he called.

‘Ready,’ said Xin.

‘Navigation?’

‘Ready,’ said Hauki.

‘Electromagnetism indicator?’

‘Active,’ stated Lauden.

‘Other scanners?’

‘Enabled.’

‘Disintegrators?’

‘Primed,’ answered Atare from the woffer’s position in the bow.

‘Countdown beginning.’ Sevin watched the seconds tick off on his viewer. It was essential they started exactly on schedule and kept to it. Timing was everything. If they got it wrong, they would be caught in the full beam of a watchtower, immediately obvious to the security forces on the ground. Sevin let the discipline of his training steady his mind.

‘Five, four, three, two, one. Initialise!’ he ordered.

Marik eased the accelerator forward and Infinity surged ahead.

’Keep it steady, keep it steady,’ said Sevin, focusing on three columns of figures side-by-side which began rolling down his screen. One was the shut-down schedule, a direct feed from DSOS Control on Rheged. The other was Infinity’s projected course. The final tranche was the ship’s actual passage. The clocks blinked away in tandem: they were on time.

Ten minutes went past, Sevin continuing to monitor their progress. He looked up once, a quick glance to his left where Hauki sat bowed over the navdesk, minutely plotting the course ahead, the same data on her viewer. He returned to his own display. In four minutes they would breach the perimeter of the first potential detection zone on the outer DSOS ring. By then, the closest watchtower, OW17, would have shut down. At least, that was the information Sevin had. If it didn’t, they had a fraction of a second to swing Infinity around. Travelling at this speed, that would require all of Marik’s expertise and a little more.

Sevin watched the dull balloon of Rikke on the forecam anxiously, waiting for the first indication that the OW17 was shutting down: a decrease in the electromagnetic waves it emitted. The timer on his viewer shed its tiny intervals: 0:15, 0:14, 0:13.

‘EMI’s dropping!’ said Lauden. ‘Like really quickly. Approaching zero.’

Ten seconds to go, thought Sevin. Ten seconds before he knew whether he’d risked everything on an unworkable plan. He counted it down in his head.

The clock read 0:00.

‘No pulse!’ said Lauden.

’Jumping,’ said Marik. ‘We’re through!’ Infinity carried on blithely into the detector-free area.

‘We’ve got fifty-five seconds to get in place to jump to the next blind spot,’ said Sevin. ‘Speed it up!’

Intent on the controls, Marik grunted an acknowledgement.

‘Passing the outer ring now,’ said Hauki, eyes shining. ‘That wasn’t so hard.’

‘It’s not over yet, there’s another twenty watchtowers to go,’ said Sevin. ‘The perimeter was the easiest. Getting to the wreck will be very tight.’

‘Marik can do it.’

‘He’d better.’

‘There’s a launch from Viken,’ Xin said. One of her duties of the day was to help Lauden with the scanners.

‘Raefnschips?’ said Sevin.

‘No, much larger.’

‘It’s a fleet of four containers,’ said Lauden. ‘They just got the say-so for a route to Rheged.’

‘Okay.’

They carried on in a strained silence. Sevin regarded the timetable scrolling past on his viewer without taking it in. Infinity was capable of this, he told himself. Marik, with his superhuman proficiencies, was more than capable of this. He noted the defensive hunch of the pilot’s shoulders. Lightening reflexes was one thing, nerves of steel was another. They’d chosen a time when Viken was passing close to Rheged. The route between the watchtowers surrounding each planet was a slalom. They could do it, they just needed to hold themselves together.

As Infinity progressed, Sevin kept an eye on the timer. Ahead on the forecam they could make out the first in the Rheged group, number 13, a hair’s breath of silver. They ran for a few seconds in a lull. Sevin was the first to break the silence.

‘Twenty seconds until shutdown,’ he said. ‘Lauden, how are we doing?’

‘Rheged 13 is still active.’

Sevin nodded. ‘Get ready. Remember, the shutdown pattern is Rheged 13, then Viken 4, then Rheged 14 then Viken 5.’

‘Okay.’

‘Counting down: nine, eight…’

‘Tracking watchtowers.’

They waited nervously but the EMI did not budge.

‘Six, five,’ said Sevin.

‘Nothing.’

‘Ready to jump,’ said Marik.

‘Three, two …’

‘Electromagnetic activity decreasing,’ said Lauden. ‘Going to zero. It’s zero.’

’Go!’ said Sevin. Marik pulled back on the accelerator and Infinity leaped forward into the safe zone. Sevin checked his monitor. The three columns of data were in accordance, they were exactly on schedule. He flicked up the 3D spatial of their route, the tiny mote of Infinity speeding across the empty arc of Rheged 13’s normal reach. In forty seconds, it would switch back on. They had to be out of its range and inside the shadow of the by-then inactive Viken 4. They were nearing its brink now.

‘Viken 4’s pulse is weakening,’ said Lauden.

‘Shut down in ten seconds,’ said Sevin.

‘Pulse is almost negative.’

‘Viken 4 shuts down in five, four, three, two, one…’

‘Viken 4 has shut down,’ said Lauden.

‘We’re across!’ said Hauki

‘Viken 4 on starboard bow,’ said Marik. ‘Eyeball it before we change direction.’ Through the windows they saw a spidery metallic structure, top-heavy with a white sphere. An antennae shaft pierced the ball like a blinded eye.

‘Looks like some old piece of space junk,’ said Lauden. Movement on his viewer distracted him. ‘Sevin! I’m picking up electromagnetic activity,’ he said.

‘From where?’

‘It’s real close. Gods above, it’s coming from Viken 4!’

Sevin stared at the 3D imaging on his viewer. A red aurora emanated from Viken 4. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The shutdowns had followed their normal schedule without deviation. Was there a problem with the system? Had he inadvertently introduced a virus when he broke in?

Unless it wasn’t a malfunction. His heart started to beat faster. If they’d detected his snooper in the main server, and seen what it was doing, the Gharst would have put extra observation on the DSOS or made changes to the schedule. Without him knowing. He’d walked into a trap of his own making.

’The Gharst turned it back on, they knew we were here,’ he said. ’We’ll have to run for it – hit the Infinity drive!’

‘I can’t,’ said Marik. He threw his hands in the air. ‘I can’t do anything, the controls are all over the place.’

Sevin looked at his own viewer. The output had gone haywire, it was unreadable. He pressed a few keys on his touchpad to no avail. ‘Everyone else jammed?’

They were. ‘What the hell’s causing it?’ Sevin asked Xin.

‘I don’t know. The watchtowers are the only entities out here capable of creating such a force.’

‘They’ve turned them on us, they’re directing their beams at us!’

‘Very likely.’

‘Ah, everyone, can you look at the forecam? I think we’re surrounded,’ said Atare from the bow.

Sevin raised his eyes to the screen and saw two heavily-armoured Gharst battlecruisers.

‘Scrit.’

‘There’s two destroyers behind us,’ said Lauden.

‘Why didn’t we see them?’

‘We did. They were the containers coming out of Viken. We picked up the disinformation,’ said Xin.

‘What are we going to do?’ said Hauki.

‘We can’t fire on them,’ said Atare, futilely joggling the targeting swizzle.

Five anxious faces turned to Sevin, seeking a solution. There was none, he knew it. He averted his eyes.

‘There’s no way out,’ he said.

’How about teleport?’ said Atare. ’We’d lose control of Infinity but we could get another ship from the ground to get us to the nexus. We’ve come all this way, we can’t give up now.’

Sevin was resigned. ‘Even if the teleport was on line, we’d be out of range of the planets. We could go into deep space or one of those ships.’ He indicated the Gharst fleet.

‘A reverse hijack!’ she persisted. ‘That’s the last thing they’d be expecting. We turn up on board and take over the ship.’

’And then what? We’d still be surrounded. The Gharst wouldn’t hesitate to fire on their own ship if we were on board.’

‘I suppose so,’ she said, deflated.

‘We have to face it,’ said Sevin. ‘We’re in trouble.’

δ

The Vise-Amiral of the Gharst fleet wasted no time in hailing Infinity and informing her captain of his parlous position. Sevin agreed wearily to allow a boarding party access and, in the remaining minutes of their freedom, instructed his crew to fit their novos and conceal small weapons in their boots or uniform on the off-chance they would be undetected. He checked the nexagraph’s hiding place in his cabin, hoping it might be passed over.

They stood grimly around the briefing table, awaiting their fate. Xin was stoic, staring into the distance. Hauki put an arm around Atare who leaned against her. Marik and Lauden shifted uneasily, looking at each other and at Sevin, who stood slightly apart from them, keeping his eyes on the ground. They heard the clunk of a cannula making purchase on Infinity’s hull.

‘How about taking hostages when they get on board? We have the advantage in knowing the ship,’ Hauki suggested.

‘Depends how many they send,’ said Sevin. ‘We’ll have to play it by ear.’

The stamp of boots on the core stairs precluded any further conversation. The iris opened on a platoon of sturmgangers in white helmets and navy jumpsuits, all bearing the white valknot against a red blaze on their chests. At their head was a young blond woman in the field dress of a komodor: a better quality version of the navy-blue jumpsuit with three silver flashes and a raven on the sleeve denoting her rank. The rope of her hair was curled into a tight coil on the top of her head like a platinum crown, adding to her already considerable height. She might have been beautiful were it not for the glacial set of her eyes, and the skeletal prosthetic, the colour of polished coal, which served as her left hand.

‘Zendra!’ said Lauden.

‘Komodor to you.’ Even her voice, so mellifluous as a SO agent, seemed to have corroded with her change of loyalty.

She led her platoon onto the bridge where they clustered in the space available around the foot of the table. She levelled a malevolent gaze at her former commanding officer.

‘I am so pleased to see you again, Major Sevin.’

‘I wish I could return the compliment.’

‘I’m glad that you can’t.’ She plucked a rackarmen out of her belt and aimed it at him. ‘I can’t see what you’re doing behind the table. Stand on the balcony with your hands in the air.’

They hesitated so she let off a bolt which burned a zig-zag into the table’s surface. Reluctantly they arranged themselves in a ragged semi-circle in front of the railings. Zendra hit the control pad to part and fold back the table, creating an aisle between her prisoners and herself. She sent forward a couple of sturmgangers who searched them thoroughly, confiscating Marik’s penknife and the breaker in Atare’s boot. They also found the novos.

‘That’s better, much better,’ said Zendra, waving away the guards before progressing down the aisle herself to inspect the prisoners. She walked from port to starboard, stopping by Hauki at the end of the line. She forced the rackarmen’s snout under Hauki’s chin, snapping her head back.

‘It’s all so different, isn’t it, now I’m in control?’ she said. ‘You’ll be taking orders from me from now on, Command Sergeant Major. Do this, do that, quick march, on the double. I think I’m going to enjoy that.’

Hauki kept her cool, sizing up Zendra’s situation for potential weaknesses. She had back-up but it was ten metres away and that could be the opportunity Hauki needed. Zendra, meanwhile, had moved on to Lauden, who stood on Hauki’s left.

‘As for you, you fat oaf, I blame you for this. Remember Delta Nine?’ She rattled her left hand under his nose, making him flinch from the grisly appendage. ‘You can’t imagine the pain it’s caused me, and the expense.’ She clawed at the neck of his jacket with the artificial hand, pulling his face towards hers as if she was about to deliver a fatal kiss. ‘You’ll pay for that, in time, so will the rest of you. A few years in the Hellenhaus should do it, if you survive that long, of course.’

Zendra released Lauden and eyed Sevin who was next in line. Hauki saw her chance. In a single leap, she was behind Zendra with her left arm clamped around the blond’s neck and her right hand scraping to get a hold on the rackarmen.

‘Get down!’ Hauki yelled as the weapon kicked out a few random pulses, scorching cracks in the floor around them. Sevin and the others took cover behind the wings of the briefing table. As the women struggled for control of the gun, the front two sturmgangers took aim. The shots whined around them, Zendra’s wrestling body shielding Hauki from the attack. The metallic hand clutched at Hauki’s armlock, throttling the living flesh until Hauki thought she might pass out with the pain. Summoning her final reserves, Hauki tightened the grip around Zendra’s neck while crushing her wrist, forcing Zendra to let go of the gun. It bounced to her right.

As quickly as she had captured her, Hauki released her, adding a powerful kick to the kidneys so that Zendra staggered forward a few steps still choking. By the time she regained her balance, Hauki had recovered the rackarmen and got Zendra in her sights. Sevin and the others stood up cautiously from behind the table.

‘Turn around. Slowly,’ Hauki said.

Zendra rotated until she faced Hauki straight on.

’It’s no use, morka.’ Zendra jerked her head at the twenty sturmgangers by the iris. ‘Even if you take me out, one of my escort will get you.’

‘Put your hands above your head.’

‘I think you should give me the gun.’

‘Do as I say!’ Hauki rattled the rackarmen to show she meant business.

‘Give me the gun!’ Zendra held out the ugly prosthetic in supplication.

‘You heard what I said. Hands up.’

‘Then I’ll just have to get it myself.’ Zendra flicked the outstretched hand and a line of blue light shot out from between the carpal bones. The flesh withered on Hauki’s hand and she screamed, dropping the gun.

‘Coloured laser, specially customised,’ said Zendra. ‘Well worth the extra money.’

Hauki looked around warily, holding the remains of her right hand and gulping back the pain. The gun had come to rest a metre away from her, within reach. She took the smallest step towards it.

‘Don’t even think about it.’

Zendra pointed her left hand at Hauki and flipped back the palm one more time. A single beam shrieked out, streaking a charred gash down Hauki’s torso from throat to stomach. A deep red stain began to unfurl across the pearlescent jacket. She coughed once, wrapping her arms around herself. Then she crumpled to the ground.

‘Hauki!’ Sevin dodged around the table and ran towards the body. He knelt down beside her, setting her head at a more comfortable angle and seized her wrist. The pulse was weak, the hand cold. He rubbed it briskly, trying to generate some warmth.

‘Hauki, Hauki!’ he called.

She opened her eyes slowly.

‘Come on, soldier, don’t give up the fight.’

She attempted a smile. ‘My battle’s over, you go on without me.’ Her eyes fluttered and she seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness.

‘Hauki!’

She rallied a little and clasped his hand. ‘My son, Turi. Look after him.’

‘There won’t be any need.’

‘Promise me!’

‘I will, I will.’

‘Thank you.’ The soulful brown eyes lost their focus and her head rolled to the side. She was gone.

Sevin placed her hand on the ground and bent his head. A brave and loyal fighter, integral to the team and, most importantly, a friend. He could hardly believe that she had been taken away so quickly and so unnecessarily. His anger began to centre on a single point – her killer.

He swung around to Zendra who was watching the scene with a smirk.

‘Charming, just charming,’ she said.

‘You murderer!’ he yelled, jumping up and barrelling towards her, aching to get his hands around her self-satisfied neck. He got within half a metre before rough hands pulled him back.

‘You had no right to kill her!’ he said, grappling with the sturmgangers who were trying to restrain him.

Zendra regarded him coolly. ‘Get back in line before I kill you as well, all of you.’

Cowed, the crew let their hands be cuffed behind their backs. Then they were forced into the seats around the briefing table. Half the platoon circled them, blasters aimed and primed.

Zendra hit the controls to reconnect the two halves of the briefing table and shouted an order in Gharst. A pair of sturmgangers lifted Hauki’s body from the floor and heaved it on to the tabletop without ceremony. Atare turned her head away, tears in her eyes.

‘You look at that and have a think about it because where I’m taking you, that’s a nice way to end up,’ Zendra said.

She descended the stairs to the flight deck, three sturmgangers following. They heard her make contact with her superiors on the ground and give orders to set off towards Rheged.

Sevin stared at the back of Hauki’s head, the bristling black hair as vital in death as it had been in life, remembering a similar scene from twenty years before, still painfully clear in all its detail. He physically felt the last dregs of doubt he had harboured over the last two decades shrivel away. Anger boiled his heart so it crystallised into pure resolve. From now on, he was nothing more than a purpose. He wanted revenge and he would use everything in his power to get it, even if it cost him his life.

ε

Coming in to land on Rheged, it was difficult to see where they were going. Surrounded by watchful red eyes, their sole window on the world was the forecam. For a long time it showed grey sea, then finally the entrance to a harbour. On the headland, a forbidding castle with spikes of spires and turrets reared out of the cliff-top: the Stramkastel, the Gharst royal family residence. To the northwest, Sevin could make out a larger inlet crammed with ships of all sizes, from carriers to pleasure boats. He presumed this was the Western Docks, which, he knew from years of reading intelligence reports, handled the commercial fleet and most of the Lyshargen throughput.

Flying over the city centre, the forecam showed a bleak urbanscape set in a fixed grid around a sweeping bay of black sand. A long promenade ran along the beach, ornamented with the grand domes and towers of the Parlament and civil administration buildings, pristine white like the sugar columns of a celebration cake. It all seemed so ordinary. Apart from Isvarld, Sevin had never visited the Gharst homeworlds. He had anticipated a harder, grimmer city, more befitting of the evil race which had brought so much fear and suffering. But Lyshargen’s pleasant façade couldn’t completely disguise the reality. He only had to drop his eyes to the body on the table in front of him to be reminded of what lay under the surface.

Sevin had thought they would dock at Ozur Galactic, the city’s main terminal in the north. Instead they veered easterly and made landfall at the military space port which served the Gudvaren barracks on the city boundaries. They were searched again before disembarking, a sturmganger commandeering even their timepieces. Then they were bundled out of the port hatch and down a bridgeway, their breath misting as they stamped through fresh snow to a waiting skydrive. The light was so pale, it seemed like dawn, yet the imposing clock tower atop the terminal roof read 11:23 GST. Even at mid-morning, three of Rheged’s moons were high in the sky, untroubled by the lethargic beams of the colossal sun which loomed behind them.

They were at the furthest end of the airfield, well away from the business of the main terminal and parked up next to some pre-war freighters being stripped for parts. Packed inside the skydrive, nobody dared to ask where they were going. Zendra sat up front with the pilot and each Infinity crew member was squashed between two sturmgangers. There were too many guards to overcome, they would have to wait for another opportunity. Sevin strained his head backwards to get a glimpse out of the starboard windows. They were making for the stalk of a shining black high-rise standing almost twice as tall as the surrounding buildings. As they neared, he saw the familiar configuration of towers and his spirits sank.

Atare was closer to the windows and followed his line of view.

‘My gods, it’s the Kriz,’ she said.

He closed his eyes. The cross-shaped headquarters of the Gharst secret service, the Spesial Polis, was notorious for its torture block, Seksuhn 4. Its other peculiarity was that it had no windows, relying instead on artificial daylight created by the solar panels which lined its exterior walls, presumably to ensure escape from the glimmering sarcophagus was that much more difficult.

The nearest guard slapped Atare across the face. ‘No talking,’ he barked. She put a hand to the smarting cheek and stared at Sevin. He wanted desperately to hold her hand, to comfort her in some way, but there were two Gharst between them. She looked away and he felt even worse. There had to be a way out, he told himself, and before they were taken inside the Kriz.

The skydrive landed on a patch cleared of snow in the centre of the Kriz rooftop. Outside their transport, bare fingers secured behind their backs quickly went numb. Sevin ceased to feel anything at all when he saw they were being marched towards one of four entrances around the core of the building which was signposted ‘S4’.

They were split into two parties. Sevin was in the first group to enter the gleaming elevator which sank with alarming velocity to the thirteenth floor. The doors opened on both sides. In front was a round foyer with two dommies behind a reception desk, the central point of the building where its four spokes connected. Behind was a long, sombre corridor. Gharst officials in military uniform and occasionally businesswear hurried through doors either side of their elevator shaft, speaking in hushed tones. Their own route was to be along the corridor. With Zendra leading the way, they trudged past a series of unmarked doors in the oppressively grey walls, some with peep holes, some with red and green lights on the lintels.

Zendra halted the party outside a portal of polished stone. Leaning forward for a retina scan, she pressed the attention bell at the same time. A central seam split apart, allowing access. They filed in behind her to stand before a wide desk where two officers wearing the navy-blue tailored uniforms reserved for the higher orders of the Gharst Galactic Guard sat waiting. One was a Gharst woman with white hair cut close to the scalp, the other was a thin man with an arrogant air: Gwyndar Adelvilde and Evan Reverre.

Sevin cursed his luck. Here he was, close enough to finally kill Adelvilde and realise his life’s ambition and she was holding all the cards. He looked around uncertainly. The dim-lit room had the air of a coffin. A hard antiseptic smell permeated the clammy cold as if fear itself had saturated the walls. The floor had the chalky texture of brushed concrete and bore obvious stains. More disconcerting was the area to their left which was boxed off behind glass. It contained a line of four chairs with head and foot rests, coated in black rubber. Sevin did not even want to guess at their function.

‘Congratulations Komodor,’ said Adelvilde as Zendra joined them behind the desk, taking the seat next to Reverre. Adelvilde inspected the rag-bag of prisoners. ‘Where is the Tarangan?’

‘Dead, ma’am, she mounted an attack against us and we had to neutralise the threat,’ replied Zendra in Gharst.

Sevin’s anger overrode his caution. ‘That is a lie!’ he said, also in Gharst. ‘Hauki was unarmed and injured when you shot her - for no reason. You should be court-martialled.’

‘Shut up, your opinion counts for nothing,’ snapped Zendra in Standard, motioning to the sturmganger behind Sevin who kicked him hard in the shins.

‘No matter,’ said Adelvilde, intent on Sevin who had suffered the blow without giving out so much as a groan. ‘We have not the time. Proceed with the interrogation, Reverre.’

‘Certainly.’ Reverre sat up straight. Sevin noticed he sported the flashes of a hauptleiter on his sleeve: another promotion. Without warning, the room plunged into semi-darkness, a faint glow issuing from floor niches in the glassed-off area. Then a powerful spotlight above the desk flared into operation.

‘State your names and identity numbers,’ said Reverre. The pleasure in his voice was unmistakable.

Sevin screwed up his eyes against the brightness. The glare was so hot that sweat already prickled his upper lip.

‘If you didn’t know who we are, we wouldn’t be here,’ he said.

’Hitte dim,’ Reverre said. Again a sturmganger whacked Sevin from behind, a crushing blow to the spine which almost knocked him off his feet. Winded, he took a while to recover, glancing at Marik and Lauden who stood either side of him. Both men had their fists clenched.

‘It would be much easier for you and your crew if you co-operate,’ Reverre said.

‘Never,’ said Sevin.

‘Let me put it like this. We know your objective. We had a long conversation with a young man called Tove Karlsson on Delta Nine. After you departed, of course.’

There was a sharp intake of breath from Lauden. Sevin gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to know what they had done to him.

‘Of course it took a while,’ Reverre continued, ‘but eventually he complied. We gleaned some very interesting information, concerning yourselves and the Viken pretender, and even details about a mission to Gaia. It was most illuminating. Such a shame he didn’t survive. He would have been even more beneficial to us alive.’

So Tove had talked. Sevin’s mind started churning through the ramifications. What would Reverre have learnt? Tove didn’t know about the nexagraph, so while the Gharst knew about the mission, they maybe didn’t know all its details. But they knew Atare had been on board Infinity at one stage, with the nexagraph, and had probably linked the two. No doubt they would try to extract any missing details from him and his crew, including the whereabouts of the nexagraph itself.

‘We know why you’re here,’ said Reverre. ‘Jolly inconvenient to have been apprehended, eh? Because time’s running out. Only a few hours left until the nexus opens.’

Sevin said nothing, trying to focus his mind away from the light and heat.

’Not that you would get there now in the time available,’ said Reverre. ’Even Infinity couldn’t manage that velocity.’

Now he knew they were guessing. He had to watch his reactions. Just from the fact of Infinity’s presence, the Gharst could assume the nexus would open in the Rikke system and soon, but they didn’t know where or when. It was the old interrogation trick of pretending to know more than you do to elicit a response from the subject which would give away more information. He kept quiet.

‘Where’s the nexagraph, Sevin?’ Zendra’s question gunned out of the darkness. ‘You’ve got it somewhere. Where is it? Still on board?’

Sevin shrugged.

Reverre sighed. ‘With permission, ma’am, can we proceed to the next level?’

‘Granted,’ Adelvilde said. ‘The women are non-military?’

‘Yes.’

‘Use them, they break quicker.’

‘Put the women in the stormer,’ Sevin heard Reverre order in Gharst. The two sturmgangers nearest to Xin grabbed her by each shoulder and hauled her inside the glass-walled area, removing the magnetic cuffs and dumping her in one of the seats. As they held her down, restraints automatically lifted out of the arm rests and the seatback, enclosing her wrists and waist. Finally one of the guards held down her legs while the other strapped them to the foot rest.

‘Hey!’ Lauden turned his broad shoulder to the Gharst who was about to carry off Atare and shoved hard. It was an empty gesture. As the sturmganger stumbled backwards, the fourth guard standing behind them caught Lauden with the butt of his blaster. Blood spurted from his ear. Lauden wheeled around but the sturmganger was faster. Within the second, he had flipped the weapon so Lauden was nose to nose with the barrel of the blaster. Atare submitted to being marched across the room and fettered into the seat next to Xin. With the two women secured, the sturmgangers withdrew, transparent doors sealing the chamber.

The spotlight blinked off, leaving the stormer lit up. Atare and Xin sat motionless like props awaiting the curtain-up of a gruesome theatre. Sevin could tell they were terrified before the one-way intercom opened, relaying the amplified gasps. Atare choked out a sob. Sevin ground his teeth, dreading what was about to happen next. Lauden and Marik stared at the ground: neither of them could look at the women.

‘What you are about to see is an extremely effective method of torture.’ Reverre’s voice broke into their thoughts. ‘It has been outlawed under the Pramis convention but, of course, since the Gharst have come to power, they have recognised its efficacy and reinstated it as an officially accepted practice for intelligence gathering. The direct translation from Gharst is difficult, so we call it “brainstorming”.’

Doors opened in the back of the sealed unit and two dommies entered. One held a console which it pointed upwards. A panel in the ceiling over each occupied chair slid back and a yellow rubber mask fell down at the end of several metres of slim tubing.

‘The morphs will carry out the procedure, under our orders.’ Reverre paused to let them watch the morphs pull down the masks and strap them forcibly around the women’s heads, Xin and Atare powerless to resist. ‘In a minute, a gas will flow into those masks. The gas contains, at its lowest concentration, fifty thousand parts per million of adrenochrome, a hallucinogenic drug which also increases the heart rate – exponentially.’ He paused. ‘If we increase the dosage, it serves to exacerbate the phantasmagoria, and the blood pressure. I can assure you, Sevin, that the procedure induces extreme terror. And ultimately cardiac arrest, if we forget to turn off the gas. We have lost a few that way.’

The women shrieked as the chairs pitched backwards violently. Xin was fighting to remove the mask from her face, tossing her head with no result. Atare was immobile, frozen with fear. Sevin could barely contain himself, every instinct urging him to give in to the Gharst, to hand over the nexagraph, to do anything to stop this nightmare. He forced himself to keep control. It was a delicate game and the stakes were high. If he didn’t play it right, they’d all be dead.

‘You want to save your crew?’ shouted Zendra from the darkness. ‘Tell us where the nexagraph is.’

Sevin opened his mouth then shut it again.

‘Commencing administration of adrenochrome,’ said Reverre. In the gloom, Sevin could see him pointing a remote control at a key pad on the wall inside the stormer. The morphs made sure the fittings were tight and stood back from the chairs. There was a pause, then muffled exclamations from the women as the gas began to flow and they tried unsuccessfully not to breathe it. They lay still for almost a minute until Atare jolted as if she had been electrocuted.

‘No, no, no!’ she cried, the mask muting the protest. She began to thrash around in her seat to escape the imaginary demons pursing her.

‘Where’s the nexus opening, Sevin?’

‘Where’s the nexagraph, Sevin?’

‘Where’s the nexus opening, Sevin?’

‘Where’s the nexagraph, Sevin?’

The questions were lost in the women’s screams. Both had gone pale and were sweating profusely. Xin was banging her head from side to side, her teeth bared like she was fighting to shake off an invisible hold.

‘They are losing their minds,’ said Adelvilde. ‘You want to stop this? You tell us where is the nexus.’

Sevin kept silent, trying to block out the agonising wails.

‘Shall I increase the effect, ma’am?’ said Reverre.

Atare gave a high-pitched shriek from the back of the throat that had carried an awful finality and collapsed against the seat back. She stayed there, quivering.

‘Okay, okay,’ Sevin shouted in desperation. ‘Beorc quadrant. 34-71-89! Now stop the gas.’

Marik and Lauden stared at Sevin, aghast.

‘Are you sure?’ said Reverre.

‘Of course I’m sure!’ Sevin’s face was poker straight.

‘And what time?’

‘At 20:41 tonight. Stop the gas!’

‘Beorc quadrant? That’s nearer to Isvarld, but you were making for Rheged,’ said Reverre.

‘We had to go that route to avoid the wachtorn. Look, if you don’t believe me, you can see it on the nexagraph. Check it out for yourself.’

Reverre shot a look at Adelvilde who nodded abruptly. He lifted the remote control and pressed a button. The morphs activated, removing the masks. Coughing and crying filled the room through the intercom.

‘So where is the nexagraph?’ Reverre demanded.

‘On the ship,’ said Sevin.

‘Where on the ship?’

‘In the safe in my cabin.’

‘Good. We can replace it,’ said Adelvilde. She stood up as the main lights came back up. ‘Komodor Zendra, you know this ship. Find the nexagraph.’

‘Ma’am.’

‘Is the safe open?’ asked Adelvilde.

‘No,’ said Sevin.

‘What is the code?’

‘It’s a palm scan.’

‘So we need your hand.’ She pointed at a couple of sturmgangers and spoke to them in Gharst. ‘You two, go with the Komodor and the prisoner. You others stay here with the prisoners. Put them all in the stormer. Reverre, Kosmoz Kontrol with me, the Stryke is waiting.’

Sevin picked up on the most important word in that sentence. ‘The Stryke? You mean a task force?’

‘Yes,’ said Adelvilde, reverting to Standard. She tugged a peaked hat on her head. ‘You think we miss the chance to get to Gaia? I have ten battlecruisers with escorts ready.’ She sneered and marched out of the room, Reverre hurrying after her.

Sevin was left facing the grim Komodor. Zendra flexed her left hand so the artificial bones clicked in an implicit threat. ‘Time for show and tell,’ she said.

‘Can’t wait,’ said Sevin.

The insolence irked her. ’Bringe dim til schip,’ she ordered the sturmgangers. Sevin smiled at her annoyance as the two guards hustled him out of the door.

ζ

The hulking sturmganger detailed to the forward starboard hatch hefted aside to let them board Infinity. With his silver visor pulled down against the sub-zero temperature, he looked more like a morph than a man. Sevin presumed there was one guard at the port hatch too. He had already seen the group around the shuttle bay exits in the bow, stuck out on the superstructure of the launch pad like roosting crows.

It was much warmer inside the ship. The familiar blend of pine and freshly turned soil churned out by the envirocon took his mind off his aching arms, still pinned behind him despite his protestations. Assembled in the corridor between the mezzanine floor of the bridge and the rec, three sets of eyes, two red and one polar blue, fixed on him. ‘We’ll take the stairs to the cabin,’ said Zendra in Gharst. ‘You, in front,’ she ordered one of their escorts. ‘You follow him,’ she told Sevin, indicating to the other guard that she would walk behind Sevin and he was to take the rear. ‘Forward!’

They walked along the corridor until they reached the core staircase and ascended it in convoy to the top level of Infinity, Zendra maintaining a careful eye and a targeted gun on everything they passed. They reached the passageway at the head of the spiral steps and stopped outside the door to the captain’s quarters.

‘Open it,’ Zendra ordered.

‘It’s not locked,’ said Sevin.

Zendra nodded at the nearest sturmganger who slammed his fist against the access panel. The autodoor slid open.

Once the first sturmganger had entered safely, Zendra strolled in, appraising the trapezium-shaped accommodation. She holstered her weapon by the sunken turquoise banquettes and looked out of the panoramic window, evidently imagining the view of endless space available when the ship was in flight. For now, the vista was ugly terminal buildings suffused in the insipid afternoon light. Sevin could just make out the display on the central clock. It was 15:13.

‘Very cosy,’ Zendra said. ‘I can see why no-one ever got to come in here.’

‘You weren’t invited,’ said Sevin.

‘Just hand over the nexagraph. Where is it?’

‘In the safe.’

‘Get it out.’

‘You’ll have to undo me first.’

She motioned for a guard to free Sevin’s wrists. The release was heavenly. He spent a few minutes rubbing the feeling back into his upper arms, too long for Zendra.

‘Open the damn safe!’ she said.

Sevin walked over to the lockers fitted along the starboard partition wall which divided the reception area from the study behind. He put his hand flat against the palm reader on one of them and its door swung open at waist level, lighting up inside. On the single shelf sat an unremarkable grey digi. Sevin stepped back.

‘Is that it?’ said Zendra, walking over to peer inside.

‘Yes.’

‘Doesn’t look like much. Give it to me.’

He shook his head. ‘You get it.’

‘Oh no. If I know you, it’s wired up in some kind of booby trap. You get it.’

‘Alright.’ Sevin took a deep breath and approached the safe. Turning his face away as if to shield it, he extended his left arm with great precision inside the repository. He grasped the digi and withdrew it carefully, barely breathing so as not to create any unnecessary movement. Once the precious package had passed the confines of the locker he straightened up, the relief on his face palpable.

Zendra smiled, knowing she had been right to make him do it. ‘I’ll take that,’ she said, putting out her hand.

‘Sure,’ said Sevin, tossing the device up and down in the air. Seeing the concern on her face he did it again, higher. ‘Here you go!’ He lobbed the digi across the three metres between them as casually as he would a flickball.

She shrieked as she ran to catch it, securing it with an open palm centimetres from the ground. ‘You idiot,’ she said, clutching it to her. ‘You … aahhhh!’ She shook her hand violently, fingers splayed. ‘It’s burning me. Aaargh, I can’t let go!’ The digi seemed to be glued to her hand. Wild with pain, she tried to smash it off against the furniture before falling to the floor where she writhed in torment, the artificial hand clutching at the real wrist as if to rip it off.

As the sturmgangers rushed forward to help her, Sevin tore his old crabclaw from where it was taped under the shelf in the safe. Taking aim, he shot two bullets into the back of each sturmganger as they knelt over the screaming Zendra. One fell forward as he took the hit, pinning her frenzied body to the ground like a sack of stone. The flailing replica hand was a difficult target but Sevin neutralised it with one round. Satisfied that she was disarmed, he placed himself at her feet and watched her death throes dispassionately. She stared back at him, the hatred in her eyes still alive.

‘How did … you … ?’ she panted.

‘A benefit of being left-handed. The safe wasn’t wired, the danger was in the nexagraph itself. It has a protective skin which can sense the hand touching it. If it detects a left hand, it will open. Only me or Atare should have access to the nexagraph and we are both left-handed. If a right hand makes contact, the box will deliver an electric shock of a voltage high enough to kill the average human.’

‘I could’ve used my left hand.’

‘I thought you wouldn’t be familiar enough with that hunk of metal yet for an emergency save. I was right.’

She tried to reply but the whites of her eyes rolled up as she fainted away. Sevin bent down to disengage the gadget with his left hand. It came away easily. He inspected it for damage then replaced it in the safe, securing the door firmly.

Leaning against the lockers, he surveyed the mound of bodies on the floor: freshly slaughtered meat, and in his own quarters too. His mouth twisted down in disgust. So far the shots hadn’t attracted any attention. If there were any Gharst on board, they would have come up to check on the source of the noise by now. He had to prevent any others getting in. He sprinted out of the room and down the spiral staircase to Level Two where he burst through the iris into the mezzanine level of the bridge and down the stairs to the flight deck. Jumping into the captain’s seat, he activated the holostation and fired off rapid instructions to lock the hatches and raise the shields. Then he primed two plasma darts, one to take out the southern wing of the Kriz complex, the tower opposite where his crew were being held, and the other to hit the Gudvaren space port. They would make enough damage to create a diversion and hold up any pursuit ships. Gambling that the Gharst weren’t prepared for a surprise attack from the ground, he launched the warheads, using the time to impact to gather up fresh novos and breakers from the teleport suite. He returned to his viewer to see that the first dart had hit target with 98 per cent accuracy.

That should take their minds off torture, he thought, clipping a breaker around his neck.

Another message sprung up on the viewer. ‘Plasma dart two is 100 per cent accurate,’ read the report.

Sevin refilled the crabclaw’s magazine and put it in his boot. Then he headed for the teleport suite where he closed himself into the number one cabinet, pulsar in hand. As the fuzzing crept down his spine, he checked his timepiece for the hundredth time. It was 16:28.

η

Over eighty thousand linials from Rheged, an unmarked defender loitered on the periphery of the Rikke system. It was far enough for its spectral presence to go undetected by ground or satellite surveillance but close enough to eavesdrop on the intra-world communications below. Powerful computers assimilated and analysed the millions of chains of binary code it harvested, condensing the output then separating out the nuggets of information from the general noise of daily planetary activity.

The executive summary of one such evaluation was being hurried to the bridge, footsteps ringing through the claustrophobic gangways of the dour battlecruiser. The two men who sat opposite each other, silently working at the navdesk, looked up as the signalman burst in.

‘What’s up?’ asked the elder of the two, laying down his calculator. He wore a plain black lartex flightsuit and a red bandana around his neck.

‘We’re getting reports of two explosions in the eastern quarter of Lyshargen, sir,’ the messenger related between breaths. ‘Something like a plasma bomb has hit the southern end of the Kriz. The Gudvaren space port was also attacked. The whole terminal’s out of action.’

The older man stood up suddenly. ‘Give me that.’ He held out a lean, dark-skinned hand for the briefing papers. ‘Any damage to the target?’

’We don’t know, sir, there’s no information as yet. As far as we’re aware, Infinity’s still on the ground.’

‘Alright. And no gravitational flux detected?’

‘No, sir, no natural phenomena at all. But there’s a large fleet preparing for launch off Rheged out of the Ozur terminal. There’s some sort of rendezvous planned in Beorc quadrant. We keep hearing the time of 20:41.’

‘Maybe that’s when the nexus opens, or when they think it opens. Keep watching,’ the older man instructed, dismissing the signalman and sitting down.

His younger colleague leaned over the desk. ‘Why don’t we engage now, while the terminal’s disabled? It will take hours to get it functioning, and, in the meantime, nobody will be able to get anything in the air.’

‘Ozur is still operational.’

‘But that’s not our focus. This is a great opportunity - it could be our only opportunity.’

His superior’s mouth cracked into a curiously dazzling smile. ‘You’re way too hasty, Sondat, you know we can’t interfere, not at this stage. We’ll wait it out. Our time will come, you can count on that.’

θ

Sevin reintegrated with a stumble right by the door of the stormer. Raising his pulsar, he spun around to face potential aggressors. There were none, the room was empty bar the pathetic bundles confined to the chairs in the chamber behind him. There was no structural damage or debris: fallout from the bomb blast in the southern quarter must have been contained. He assumed the noise of the impact had chased off the sturmgangers.

He holstered the pulsar and turned his attention to the prisoners. Marik occupied the chair closest to the door. ‘Sevin!’ he shouted. ‘For the love of heaven, get us out of here!’

Sevin hit the entry panel and the doors yanked apart. He glanced at the women in the central seats, still wearing the masks. Neither was moving.

‘Are they alright?’ he asked Marik as he released him.

‘I think Atare’s passed out. Xin was groaning a minute ago,’ Marik said, fastening the breaker Sevin had given him around his neck. ‘What was the explosion? It was massive. All the guards ran off.’

‘Plasma dart. A small diversion,’ Sevin said, freeing Lauden from the end chair and fixing a breaker around the big man’s throat.

‘Thanks, buddy,’ he said, pummelling circulation back into his wrists.

Sevin handed over new novos to both men. ’The breakers are set to the right loco. Get back to Infinity and prepare for launch,’ he said, crossing over to where Xin sagged between the rubberised hoops of the recliner. ‘I’ll see if I can bring the girls round. If they’re not fit enough to teleport, we’ll have to come back another way. I’ll let you know.’

‘Alright,’ said Marik. Both men wrapped their hands around the breakers and were gone in an instant.

Sevin tried to rouse Xin, shaking her shoulder. She responded dopily. He ran his finger around the edges of the mask, figuring out how to undo its straps as a line of current passed so close to his cheekbone that it scored his skin.

Flinging himself to the floor, he drew the pulsar and returned a few blasts through the door from the shelter of Xin’s seat. She was conscious now and screaming, aware of the gunfire but unable to move her head to see its source. Then the lights outside the stormer shut off, leaving Sevin exposed in the glow of the floor niches.

‘You cannot escape this time,’ said Adelvilde’s voice.

Sevin grasped his pulsar tighter, getting into a crouch behind the seat then not daring to move or even breathe in case he betrayed his position, worried she could hear the blood which drummed so loudly in his ears.

‘You afraid, Sevin? You afraid of me?’ Adelvilde mocked. ‘I think so. You cause me much trouble. I am so happy to ELIMINATE YOU.’

Another pulse sang past his right shoulder, chiselling the flesh from the joint with caustic precision. Dazed, he pressed the loose flap back against the raw cut, blood smearing his hand. He tried to concentrate on a strategy. Her voice came from the main door, even though the shot must have been fired from the centre of the room outside the stormer. Sevin guessed she was moving around, using the obscurity to confuse him. He had to negate her advantage. Taking aim at the niches in the floor, he blew the lights. The room plunged into darkness.

The shock of light deprivation set Xin screaming again, the noise allowing Sevin to break cover and feel his way out of the stormer, tracking right along the edges of the main room from memory, following the wall around so he was somewhere near the main door. He paused, straining every sense to locate Adelvilde, alert to the tiniest movement.

‘Still alive?’

Sevin jumped as the question sprang out beside him.

’Not for long. I am your destiny, Sevin, the wyrd that waits for you. Say hello to goodbye.’

The words which had haunted his dreams and sullied his happiness for two decades lanced his heart: the words spoken by the Gharst pirate who had mercilessly butchered his family twenty years ago on the Wayfarer. There was no doubt in his mind now that Adelvilde and the pirate were one and the same. She had killed for the pleasure of it, with enjoyment, with no regret. The phrase was like a magical command, summoning a terrible phoenix of certainty from the bonfire of time. Here was the end of his quest. Adelvilde, the alpha and the omega, the cause of and the solution to the burden he had carried for so long. He raised the pulsar and fired it in the direction of the voice.

He missed: she was one step ahead and sent a hail of charge towards him. It seared the air, some of it igniting dust on the floor. The embers were bright enough for Sevin to locate the blaze of white hair. She was standing behind the desk, holding a blaster ready. Immediately she ducked and Sevin could hear her scratching under the bureau. It all went black again before he let off a few random pulses to flush her out, listening hard as he approached the desk and what lay hidden underneath it.

A resounding blow to the back of his head took him by surprise, knocking him forward. The pulsar flew from his hand as a second chop forced him to his knees. He half-turned, sensing the indistinct shape behind him while patting the ground frantically for the pulsar. The hardwood of the desk rose up in front, it could have slid under there. Before he could grope underneath it, a powerful kick from a steel toe-cap caught him in the ribs and his nose hit the floor with an excruciating crunch. As he tried to right himself, a hand pulled his head up by the hair.

‘Lost the gun, yes? No problem, here is mine!’ Adelvilde wrenched his head sideways and lodged the nozzle of a blaster under his right ear. ‘Stand up.’

He raised himself gingerly on his hands, causing needles of pain to shoot through his shoulder. Manoeuvring was difficult with Adelvilde’s gun welded to his head. He managed to pull up his right leg into a kneel first and forced his hand into the boot. He grabbed the crabclaw. Thrusting it under his arm with the barrel outermost, he squeezed the pincers together three times and prayed.

His head fell free as a yowl ricocheted around the room. Leaping to his feet, he whirled around. A fire had started in the seat of one of the chairs behind the desk, the licking of the flames revealing Adelvilde behind him, bending over her left arm, blood staining the white cuff under the navy sleeve. Her other hand held the blaster trained unsteadily on Sevin. Her eyes gleamed with a maniacal energy.

‘Look, Major, not dead yet,’ she whispered.

‘Soon though, very soon,’ said Sevin, eyeing the desk behind him and the floor around it. The pulsar was nowhere to be seen, he would have to make do with the crabclaw. He focused on her and how the flickering fire played shadows across her face, deepening the scar above her top lip.

‘We have some history, you and I,’ he said. ‘The first time we met, you had just killed my mother. And my sister, and my brother.’

She shrugged. ‘I killed a lot, I don’t remember.’

‘It was twenty years ago on board a ship headed for Thalia, carrying civilians, mainly families with young children. You were with a group of pirates who raided the ship and killed everyone, even the babies. I was the only one left alive. I shot you with a cap, in the refectory where you had murdered all the others. If the IPP hadn’t arrived, you would have shot me too.’

‘Ah, the boy with the pop gun, you use it again now!’ She clutched at her midriff. Sevin side-stepped as she stumbled forwards into the desk, leaning against it as if she was on the verge of expiring.

Sevin kept the crabclaw on her. ‘All my life I’ve waited to kill you. When I’ve done that, I’ll be free.’

‘Free?’ Adelvilde tried to stand up straight, her back to Sevin. ‘Never free from the Gharst.’

‘The Coalition will take back its homeworlds and more.’

‘No,’ she spat out, too hard, the word turning into a moan. She staggered, stretching out a hand to the desk as if to break her fall. Too late Sevin realised her intent as she seized the one item on its surface, the remote control. In a heartbeat, she had turned around, pointed it at the stormer and reactivated the flow of gas. Orange indicators over the two central chairs switched on.

‘You see the light?’ she asked. ‘The light means the adrenochrome is at the highest level. They will die in five minutes, perhaps less.’

Sevin froze. He looked towards the stormer. The drug was already taking effect. Atare had woken up, her eyes were fixed to the ceiling and her body twitched involuntarily every few seconds. He could hear Xin panting as if she was suffocating.

‘Give me the remote.’

‘No.’ Adelvilde let it fall to the floor and, watching him all the time, lifted one boot and smashed it down. The remote shattered like glass. ‘You do it, quick, before they die.’ She started to circle past him towards the outside door, keeping the blaster trained on him.

The hand which held the crabclaw wavered. ‘I could kill you now,’ he said.

‘And I will kill you back. Then who can save your crew? I have a blaster, your pop gun has three bullets. You chase me or you rescue your crew, you cannot do both.’

He hesitated. She was halfway across the room now, within range. It was high risk but a single shot, well-aimed, could do it. As he raised the crabclaw, an urgent bleeping broke out. The orange light above Atare’s seat had turned red. The stormer must have vital signs detection and hers were obviously failing. He had to pull her out, now. He turned back to Adelvilde, but in the split second he was distracted, she had made it to the exit, a silhouette framed in the light of the open doorway. He fired and fired again. The outline faltered, returning a shaky volley of blaster pulse, before loping away as the door swished shut.

She was badly hurt and she was his, Sevin knew it. With those wounds she wouldn’t get far, he’d track her down easily. Five minutes would clinch it. But he didn’t have five minutes. He looked helplessly at the stormer and the emergency signal; the opportunity was slipping from his grasp as he dithered. It was so unjust. He was within a hand’s breadth of finishing her and she had wriggled away. Damn her, damn her, but he couldn’t sacrifice his crew. He couldn’t sacrifice Atare.

He knew what he had to do. He charged into the torture chamber and ripped the tubes from the ceiling, the hiss of gas filling the room. Punching the key pad on the wall, he managed to upright the seats and spring the restraints back into the upholstery. Then he found the button for the adrenochrome delivery and stopped it. Realising she was free, Xin wrenched off her mask, crying with fear and anger. Atare lay motionless on the seat. Alarmed by the bluish tint to her skin, Sevin struggled with the headstraps of the mask. When he removed it, he discovered she wasn’t breathing. He felt for her pulse, there wasn’t one.

He gathered her up in his arms and laid her on the floor, arranging her head so the airways were clear. He inhaled, wrapped his mouth around her cold lips and exhaled deeply into her lungs, prepared to trade his own vitality for hers if he could rekindle the moribund body beneath him. He thought the callsigns for Marik and Lauden to his novo with instructions to teleport down the defibrillator from sick bay.

Xin knelt down beside them.

‘You okay?’ he asked between breaths.

She nodded. ‘What about her.’

‘No breathing, no pulse. I’ve asked the ship to bring down a defibrillator.’

‘Keep going then.’ Xin took Atare’s wrist.

Sevin gave her two more breaths. ‘The air’s not going in.’

‘Start CPR,’ said Xin. ‘You know how to do it?’

He nodded, placing the heel of his right hand in the middle of Atare’s chest. Putting his left hand on top of the right, he pushed thirty compressions hard and fast. There was no response. He sat back on his heels before starting the artificial respiration again. He was back to CPR before Xin said: ‘I can feel something. Yes, there’s a pulse!’

Sevin stared down at Atare’s face. A little colour was returning. He bent down to put his ear close to her mouth and heard a soft sighing.

‘She’s breathing!’ he said.

‘Is she well enough to teleport?’

‘It’s our only realistic option,’ he said, holding out a breaker to Xin before fastening one around Atare’s neck. As he gently repositioned her head, her eyelids flitted and her mouth trembled.

‘Atare!’ he called, grabbing her hands. ‘Atare, can you hear me?’

Her eyes opened.

‘Sevin?’ she said, smiling hesitantly before she recognised the layout of the stormer. ‘We’re still here, we’ve got to escape, they’re coming for us!’ She pulled her hands out of his, attempting and failing to get up.

‘You’re alright. It’s over. We’re going back to the ship,’ he said, helping her to sit up. He examined every inch of her face. The full colour had returned, she was so very alive. Relief and happiness flooded over him. He gave thanks to whichever god was presiding over them.

‘I’ve never been so scared. Was it really a hallucination? It seemed so real, I thought I was going to die.’ She covered her face with her hands.

He put an arm around her shoulders. ‘It’s over, you’re alright.’

She leaned against him, taking comfort from his nearness. He gathered her to him with his other arm. Thank the gods she was alright. If he had pursued Adelvilde and left her to die – he didn’t want to think of the consequences.

‘Sevin?’ Xin’s voice broke into the moment.

He turned his head from the embrace. ‘What?’ he snapped.

Xin flinched. ‘We need to get out of here.’

There was a shimmering in the air next to her. Marik materialised holding two black boxes and several coils of cabling. He looked between them. ‘Here’s the defibrillator, where d’you want it?’

Sevin stood up. ‘Thanks but we’re alright now. Can you stand?’ he asked Atare. She nodded but he hauled her up anyway with an arm around the waist. She put her hands on his shoulder and rested her head on them. Sevin grasped his breaker and pulled on it hard.

‘Let’s go home,’ he said.

ι

Infinity was in launch mode when they returned to the ship. Lauden was anxiously waiting for them by the teleport cabinets.

’They just launched a fleet out of Ozur. Ten battlecruisers with escorts, sure made one hell of a noise at take-off, even over here. It looks like they really mean business,’ he told Sevin, accompanying him to the flight deck.

Sevin turned to Atare and Xin who were following, noting their wan expressions. ‘Are you alright to do this?’

‘Yes,’ said Xin.

‘I am,’ said Atare.

‘Right. Adrenelax, two shots each, then prepare for take-off.’ He marched to the captain’s seat where he sat for a while adjusting his holostation. It was good to be back in control. Atare brought a syringe of stimulant and a skin graph for his shoulder wound. He let her apply it as he watched dusk falling over the barren wasteland surrounding the Gudvaren space port on the forecam. The reverse view showed still-smoking terminal buildings blackened by a recently extinguished fire. The clock tower had remained untouched. The time was 17.39. Less than an hour to go.

‘Marik, start the countdown. What the hell’s that?’ he asked as an outside force buffeted the ship.

‘Border control, they’re firing at us, on and off, but not really doing any damage,’ said Marik, flipping virtual switches at the pilot station. ‘Twenty seconds to lift-off.’

‘Ready,’ said Sevin, glancing across at the navdesk. Its emptiness hit him like a slap: there was no Hauki now. As he wondered about a replacement, Atare paused by the station. She met his gaze and sat down self-consciously.

‘You should be resting,’ he said.

‘I can do it,’ she said, activating the holostation. Sevin watched her secure her belt and then the G-force of the launch threw them back into their seats and they were penetrating the ionosphere with Rheged coalescing into a turquoise and black ball behind them.

‘Set a course for the nexus location,’ Sevin said. ‘How long to loco?’

‘Twenty minutes at the current speed,’ said Atare.

Sevin stared the clock on his viewer. It was now 17:50, they had time in hand. He was still sore from failing to kill Adelvilde. He couldn’t think when he might get another opportunity, if ever. In the meantime, he had other priorities. Adelvilde must have raised the alarm and they should expect a pursuit effort. Whether Infinity could escape or not depended on how many ships and how quickly they were launched. This time there was no hiding place: they were clearly visible to Offenvarld Sekuritat who must be tracking their course. They would have company as soon as the Gharst realised Infinity was headed in the opposite direction to where Sevin had claimed the nexus would open.

Infinity progressed uninterrupted and Sevin went to retrieve the nexagraph from his cabin. He brought it to the flight deck where he taped it to the arm of the pilot seat. It was 18:00 by the time Sevin returned to his own chair. Lauden cleared his throat.

‘Sorry to disturb you people,’ he said, ‘but the scanners are registering a launch off Rheged - four raefnschips, Munin class.’

‘To be expected. What about the Stryke?’ asked Sevin.

Lauden switched screens. ‘Still on course to Beorc quadrant, about a hundred linials off Isvarld. Hey, hold up a sec, something’s going down. That’s kinda strange. I don’t understand, there’s a breakaway, like half of them turning around.’ He looked up from the monitors, puzzled.

‘Hedging their bets,’ said Xin. ‘Half will go to the original destination, the others will follow us.’

‘It looks that way,’ said Sevin. ‘Atare, calculate the quickest possible time they can get to the nexus from their present position.’

She punched numbers into the navdesk keypad. ‘Fifty-three minutes,’ she said.

’And it’s 18:03 now, they won’t make it. We’ll be halfway to Gaia by then.’ If everything goes to plan, he thought to himself. ‘We’ll worry about the Stryke if and when it happens, we’ve got four raefnschips to deal with next. Atare, how long to the nexus?’

‘Seven minutes, fifteen seconds.’

‘Battlestations,’ he ordered. ‘Lauden, time until raefns are in range?’

‘Two fifty six.’

‘Not long. Xin, get the shields back up. Prime the disintegrators.’

‘Shields up, disintegrators primed.’

‘Lauden, with me,’ Sevin said, indicating he should follow him to the bow. Lauden took the port woffer’s seat, Sevin the starboard. ‘There’s only four of them,’ Sevin said, initialising the assisted targeting system and joggling its holographic swizzle.

‘And one of us,’ said Lauden.

‘Our hardware’s more sophisticated.’

‘Yeah, and there’s four of them.’ Lauden focused on his scanner. The display showed the raiders bearing down on them in a diagonal line, each spaced behind the other by a tenth of a linial.

‘In range in twenty seconds,’ Atare called out. She had taken Lauden’s seat at the comms desk.

Sevin grasped the swizzle. ‘Munin class. Beamers and probably a couple of fireflies each,’ he said. ‘You take the two on the left, I’ll handle the ones on the right.’

‘Alright,’ said Lauden, lining up the port disintegrator.

’In range!’ shouted Atare. Almost immediately the nose cannon of the raefnschips opened up, raking the airspace between themselves and Infinity.

’Fire,’ yelled Sevin, struggling to keep control of the swizzle as Marik flippedInfinity on to her side and they shot through the beams of plasma unharmed. Sevin and Lauden let go with the disintegrators as best they could, the minutely precise movements required to target the enemy difficult to perform in the motion of the ship. The raefnschips swept over them and soared away.

‘Damn it,’ grumbled Lauden, ‘I can’t lock on if Marik’s throwing us around.’

Sevin checked the clock, it was 18:13. They were running out of time.

‘They’re turning, getting ready to come round again,’ Lauden warned.

‘Stay on the lead ship,’ Sevin said. He concentrated on steering the red square of the targeter around the viewer so it hovered over the icon of the last raefnschip. It didn’t stick.

‘Lead ship’s got a fix on us!’ shouted Atare. ‘It’s launching a firefly!’

’I’m on it!’ Lauden was absorbed in his viewer. Sevin heard the buzzing which meant Infinity had locked on a target. On his own display, he saw the front raefnschip simply disappear from the viewer.

‘Great shot,’ said Sevin, keeping up a barrage of disintegrator against the oncoming patrol. ‘Now take out the firefly.’

‘Like I’m trying! I just can’t seem to get a hold of it.’ Lauden lashed out a few slugs of disintegrator but missed.

‘Firefly incoming on the port wing,’ called Atare. ‘Impact in five. Hold on!’

A tremendous blow, as if they had collided with a mountain, knocked the ship to starboard and it was several seconds before Marik could get Infinity back on course.

‘Xin, damage report!’ said Sevin.

‘None significant but autorepair units are initialised,’ she said. ‘Shields down to eighty per cent.’

‘They’re closing on us,’ Marik said, staring at the forecam.

‘Get on top of them then stall and we’ll swing round and get them from behind,’ said Sevin.

‘Wilco,’ said Marik, steering the ship into position.

‘Make it quick,’ warned Xin. ‘Their beamers are eroding our shields every second.’

‘Just hold on,’ said Sevin, nudging his sights nearer and nearer to the icon of the back raefnschip. With a final shift, he made contact. The box flashed red and a buzzing sounded. He hit the plasma dart launch and an instant later the furthest Munin spectacularly exploded.

‘Yes!’ The whole crew cheered as the enemy craft went down.

‘Two left,’ said Sevin. ‘Let’s finish it.’

Before either he or Lauden could get another fix, the ship was shaken violently as a volley thumped into the shields from the remaining raefnschips which rocketed past, leaving Infinity yawing in their jetstream. Recovering themselves, the crew checked for damage. It was 18:22. Sevin stared at the digits wondering why time seemed to run so slowly when they were under attack.

‘Sevin, the shields at 60 per cent capacity. We need to recharge,’ said Xin.

‘We can’t. Fifteen minutes. We just need to hold them off for fifteen minutes. Marik, maintain our current course.’

‘They’re splitting up,’ Atare said. ‘I think they’re going for a two-prong.’

Sevin watched the two ships diverge on his viewer. As they swung around, he could see she was right. He swallowed hard. The ships seemed to pause to rev up before hurling themselves towards Infinity.

‘Incoming port and starboard!’ said Atare.

’Evade, evade,’ ordered Sevin, willing the errant swizzle to nail the invader but to no avail. They let fly with the disintegrators on full power but the raefnschips darted around the beams, drawing ever closer until they were near enough to mirror Infinity’s every move, raining fire into her shields as they pursued their prey at breakneck speed.

‘Shields are at thirty-five per cent,’ said Xin. ‘We can’t take much more of this, we have to lose them!’

A series of double beeps echoed across the flight deck. They looked at each other in alarm.

‘They’ve got a lock on us, both of them!’ said Atare.

‘Push it, Marik, get us out of here!’ Sevin bellowed.

The rushing of their passage intensified and the bridge started to judder as Marik accelerated, spiralling the ship into a daring reverse loop.

‘They’re still on us,’ said Lauden. Then the ship bounced as it smacked into the crossbeam from the raefnschips.

‘Ten per cent left,’ shouted Xin. ‘We have to repower!’

‘Keep firing,’ Sevin said, continuing to scatterblast the sonic cannon at their pursuers.

‘There’s another ship, five hundred linials out!’ said Atare. ‘It’s coming our way!’

‘What is it?’ said Sevin, looking over his shoulder at her. She was frowning at the forecam.

‘Some kind of defender. It’s launched a firefly. It’s locked on to the lead raefn!’

Sevin looked above his head to where the screen showed a battlecruiser in the far distance, its portholes shining like jewels.

‘Whoa, what is that?’ said Marik, taking his eye off the controls for a split second. ‘It looks Gharst.’

‘It’s attacking its own ships, it can’t be,’ said Xin.

‘And they don’t like it. They’re outta here,’ said Lauden. The raefnschips were retreating.

‘No name, no identity coding, no greeting, no nothing!’ said Atare, checking every reference meter on the comms desk. ‘Who are they?’

The firefly finally caught up with its target and the raefnschip convulsed into a fireball.

’Gods above, they’re Gharst,’ said Sevin, straining his eyes at the forecam. ’The name’s been painted over but I can just about read it: RKS Hyrokkin. What the hell are they playing at, firing on themselves?’

’They’ve launched another firefly, it’s tracking the last raefn,’ said Atare, watching the Munin twist and turn through its evasive action. ’Now Hyrokkin’s hailing us, shall we answer?’

‘Put it on the forecam,’ said Sevin.

A holocom of a man’s head grew out of the screen. He was dark-skinned with black hair neatly plaited into two braids. He had a red bandana knotted around his neck.

‘Greetings Sevin, got yourself a nice boat since I saw you last!’

‘Commandante Kristil!’ said Sevin, laughing with relief. ‘In a Gharst ship?’

‘One of the ones you left on Gridon,’ the rebel leader replied with a grin, revealing his customised smile of crystal teeth.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Saving your ass by the look of it. You’re not pleased to see me?’

‘I’m delighted,’ Sevin said, meaning it. ‘How did you replace us?’

‘Queen Siri contacted us. She said you might need a hand.’

‘Siri?’

’There’s a device on Infinity, they gave it to you on Delta Nine. We picked up the signal and followed you here as soon as we could.’

The golden key Tove had given them. Sevin shook his head. He started to reply when the holocom blanked out.

’Hyrokkin’s hit in the tail! That last raefn sent a dart under its shields,’ said Atare, tracking the culprit Munin as it shot over the stern of the defender, taunting its larger and slower prey. Within the ugly crack running from the tip to the base of the tail fin, combustion glowed a rose gold.

’What’s the damage, Xin, can you tell?’ said Sevin, trying to align his targeter with the attacking raefnschip. It was executing an about-turn, preparing for another lethal dive. Once in position, it catapulted towards the wounded hulk of the Hyrokkin. Sevin’s eyes flicked to his timepiece: 18:30. There wasn’t much time for a rescue mission.

‘Autorepair’s initialised at the impact site, that’s all the data available,’ said Xin.

‘Marik, where are we relative to the nexus?’

‘We’re in the zone.’

Sevin rested his forehead on his fingertips. ‘We need to take out that raefnschip in the next three minutes. Get after it.’

’Okay,’ said Marik, spurring Infinity into pursuit. They were within range in seconds.

’Now!’ said Sevin. He and Lauden directed the full force of their disintegrators at their target. Instantly it returned fire from its reverse beamer. Marik wasn’t fast enough. He swerved to starboard and Infinity caught half of the barrage on her offside and reeled out of control.

‘Shields are out, that’s it,’ Xin cried.

‘And he knows it,’ said Sevin. The raefnschip had banked steeply and looked like it was turning around for another, terminal, fly-by.

‘Nexus is opening in thirty seconds,’ said Atare hesitantly.

It was now or never. Sevin bent to the task, selecting a smaller, hundred-weight plasma dart.

‘Keep it steady, Marik,’ he instructed.

‘It’s no good, we’ve got hardly any power ...’

‘Just keep going.’ Sevin focused on his viewer. The red box was hovering near the target. He concentrated on the enemy icon and netted it. There was a buzzing as the box flashed red. He jabbed at the missile launch and the dart whipcracked out of the starboard wing towards the raefnschip, burying itself midships. The Munin detonated in a white-hot inferno.

’Treffo!’ said Marik, steering Infinity away from the wreckage.

Lauden slumped back in his seat. ‘Good hunting, man. We did alright!’

‘We did,’ said Sevin. Then he sat bolt upright. ‘There it is!’

Before them a handkerchief of grey was opening up against the black backdrop of space. As they watched, it formed into a silvery tube which undulated from side to side, a mysterious light emanating from its gaping mouth.

‘Nexus is open!’ said Xin.

‘I can see that. Go, go, go!’ ordered Sevin. ‘Marik, what’s the time to loco?’

‘Two minutes, forty-three,’ answered Marik.

‘Go! As fast as we can. Atare, get on to Kristil.’

Sevin returned to the captain’s seat and waited for the connection. Shortly afterwards, a holocom of Kristil appeared from his viewer.

‘Thank you, Sevin,’ he said.

’I was returning the favour. Is the Hyrokkin alright?’

‘We’re down to half-power with no functional beamers. We’re making repairs but it’ll be a while before we’re up and running.’

‘Half the Stryke’s headed this way.’

‘I know. It’s alright, we’ll be gone by then. Don’t hang about, go catch that nexus! You’ve a mission to complete.’

‘We have.’

‘Go with the gods.’ The holocom plinked off.

It was time for them to leave.

‘How long until we can reach the nexus?’ he asked Atare who was back at the navdesk.

‘One twenty-three.’

‘Two minutes thirty-two until it closes,’ Xin added. ‘Our power supply is very limited now.’

‘We are actually slowing,’ said Marik.

‘Slowing? How come?’ asked Sevin.

‘The reserves are nearly exhausted,’ said Xin. ‘We’ll only just make it.’

Sevin watched the linials race past on the forecam as they closed in on the nexus, its strange light strengthening as the distance narrowed. Sevin massaged his aching shoulder and considered the possibility of making the wormhole, something he hadn’t thought achievable even twenty minutes ago. Whether they would reach Gaia, whether they would survive the transfer, or even what they would replace at the end of the nexus were unquantifiable. As he tried to recall images of Gaia from his childhood, an early warning alert, three clicks and two long tones, distracted him. It was coming from the scanner at the comms desk where Lauden was double-checking his readings. He looked up.

‘It’s more raefnschips,’ he said. ‘Two, approaching from Yr quadrant.’

‘What?’

’Two Hugins headed for the Hyrokkin.’

‘Not for us?’

’Nope, they won’t catch us now.’

Sevin looked at the glowing flower on the forecam and sunk his chin in his hand. The raefnschips were coming to avenge their siblings and, when they saw the Hyrokkin was disabled, they would exact retribution. Kristil was defenceless but if they turned around now, they’d miss the nexus.

‘Ah, Kristil’s pretty helpless back there. We gonna help him out?’ said Lauden.

‘We can be there in seconds,’ Marik added.

Sevin kept his eyes on his viewer, watching the enemy craft close in on the Hyrokkin. The journey time was irrelevant: it would take far longer than they could afford to neutralise the Hugins and it would jeopardise their jump to Gaia. He couldn’t risk wasting this opportunity. He’d missed out on finishing Adelvilde because of an emotional attachment; he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Besides, they were low on power and, without fully functioning disintegrators, it was unlikely they could make any real difference to Hyrokkin’s fate. It was the kind of choice Sevin hoped he would never have to make but there was no way around it. He had to abandon Kristil.

‘Maintain the current course,’ he said, hating himself for his decision.

Lauden and Xin exchanged bewildered looks. Atare’s mouth dropped open.

‘We’re not gonna help?’ said Lauden.

‘We can’t rescue him and make the nexus,’ said Sevin, intent on the halo on the forecam.

‘We can’t leave him for dead!’ said Marik, swivelling around in his seat to look at Sevin in astonishment.

’Yes, damn it, we can and we have to!’ shouted Sevin, striking the arm of the captain’s chair. ‘I’ll tell him,’ he continued in a more level voice. ’Lauden, hail the Hyrokkin.’

‘Hailing now.’

After the grey fuzzing of interference had cleared, the image of Kristil’s head appeared on Sevin’s viewer. He looked worried.

‘More raefns on their way to you,’ said Sevin.

‘I know.’ The former sparkle in the rebel leader’s eyes had dulled. It was as if he had already guessed Sevin’s strategy.

Sevin hesitated. ‘You just saved our lives, Kristil,’ he started. ‘We owe you and I would do anything in my power to repay that debt.’

‘Sure.’ Kristil forced a smile.

‘But, if we come back to help you, we’ll miss the opening of the nexus.’

‘I know.’ The answer was expressed with a graceful sadness more piercing than any recrimination. Sevin briefly considered changing his plan, saving Kristil, replaceing another way to Gaia. Then he thought of Queen Siri and Tove, the young Gharst who helped them on Delta Nine before Reverre and Adelvilde tortured him to death. He steeled himself to deliver the final blow.

‘I’m sorry – I can’t let that happen,’ he said. ‘People have died so we could get here. More people will die if we don’t get to Gaia.’

‘And we’re still alive, for a little while anyway.’ Kristil’s gaze drifted away before returning to Sevin with a new determination.

‘Go then, leave us,’ he said. ‘Get to the nexus and complete your mission, the destiny of the Known Worlds rides on its success. Goodbye Sevin, and good luck.’

The transmission cut out, terminated from the Hyrokkin end.

Sevin stared numbly at the blank viewer then hung his head. A sombre silence descended on the flight deck.

’The Hugins are firing on Hyrokkin,’ said Lauden eventually.

‘Don’t look back, focus on the nexus,’ ordered Sevin, rubbing his eyes.

‘Yeah, cos if we slow down any more we’re not going to make it,’ said Marik, looking anxiously at his monitors. ‘Xin, what are you doing back there?’

‘I’m not doing anything. The power’s decreasing quicker than I thought. Sevin, we can’t sustain this speed for more than thirty more seconds!’

‘How far is the nexus?’ said Sevin, raising his head.

‘One minute fifteen at the current speed,’ said Atare. ‘If we drop below this level, we won’t get there before it closes.’

The nexus loomed large on the forecam. It might as well have been a million miles away. Sevin was distracted by a flicker on his viewer. When he looked for it, he saw Hyrokkin had disappeared off the chart. He closed his eyes. They had to make it, for Kristil’s sake.

‘Marik, activate the infinity drive.’

‘No! Not after all we’ve been through!’ said Xin.

‘It’s been fine before. We can’t make it on the normal engines. We’ll just have to take the risk,’ Sevin said, his jaw set.

‘Third time lucky,’ muttered Marik. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Ready,’ said Sevin.

’Switching to manual, initialising infinity drive.’ Marik pulled down on the silver pommel. ‘Infinity drive is activated.’

‘The gods go with us,’ said Atare.

‘Amen to that,’ said Lauden.

Just as before, the ship seemed to pause for breath before leaping forward at unimaginable speed. A white light scoured past the windows and then they were plummeting into a dense, grey cloud, immobilised in their seats and deafened by the rushing of their fall. The flight deck fixtures started to thrum. A locker door in the bow opened and broke away from its hinges, nicking Lauden’s ear as it flew backwards.

’This isn’t right,’ yelled Marik, sawing the steerstick. ‘I can’t hold on.’ More pieces started to whip out of their fittings, smashing into the wall between the flight deck and teleport suite. There was a frightening creak and tearing as equipment sheared off the hull.

‘We’ve lost the external stairwell,’ shouted Xin. ‘There’s too much pressure on the superstructure.’ There was another fearsome crack and the platform of the flight deck heaved and shuddered under their feet. Atare screamed as a nearby stud wall split in half. The ship began to shake as a point of white on the forecam grew into an effulgent circle. They were being hurled towards the mouth of the nexus.

’Launch the escape rafts, we’re breaking up!’ shrieked Xin. Her voice was lost in the maelstrom as Infinity neared the event horizon of the nexus and the radiance within. Sevin gripped the arms of his seat and watched in terrified awe as Infinity was sucked through the ring of white fire and they plunged irrevocably into the light.

TO BE CONTINUED

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