Betrayer of Worlds (31 page)

Achilles tore faster and faster, hooves pounding, droplets of sweat flying, his sash flapping, but his mind raced quicker still. To regain the initiative he must overtake the Gw’oth fleet. If
Remembrance
stayed in hyperspace all the way, hardly ever dropping into normal space, he could reach Kl’mo first. Laboring around the clock to replace the abandoned suppressor buoys would keep everyone’s mind busy. A few insanities among the crew were likely, but that was acceptable. He had enough to manage.

Baedeker, taunting him! Unacceptable!

Smash Kl’mo. Destroy the Gw’oth fleet. Return proudly to Hearth with the enemy crushed. Who then could say what the aliens had planned for their homeward trip?

He could yet claim his prize. He
would.

A cross corridor loomed and, hooves skittering for traction, Achilles veered into it. There was not a moment to be wasted. He galloped onto the bridge. Clotho stared at him.

Achilles chanted firmly, with a confidence that he did not feel, “Depart immediately for Kl’mo.”

“Good news at last,” Nessus sang.
Aegis,
suddenly, felt much less empty.

“Very good, sir,” Voice answered, as though he had not processed the message as Nessus listened. Or earlier, while downloading it.

The English butler mannerisms grew tiresome, even rendered as music. “What do you think of the news?”

“I should imagine you will be happy to see Hearth again,” Voice answered cautiously.

Baedeker
and
Hearth. Nessus climbed off the pilot’s bench and stretched. “If only . . .”

“If only what, sir?”

If only he could believe the danger had passed. Achilles stymied, and the Gw’oth warships safely past Hearth? That, Nessus accepted. Louis and Sigmund would make a formidable team.

But Achilles stopped? Nessus had known Achilles—struggled against Achilles—far too long to believe that. Achilles cared only for himself. While Achilles could conspire, he would.

“If only the universe were not so complicated.”

“I do not think I can help you with that, sir.”

For a long time Nessus stood staring at the view ports. Two nebulae shone nearby, lit by the stars to which they had given birth. The cooler cloud glowed blue; it only scattered the ambient starlight. The second cloud, its gases heated to plasma by the tight cluster of young stars within, blazed with its own pink light.

Only he was rushing away from the nebulae at nearly half light speed. The display corrected for the massive red shift.

He had a long trip ahead of him, returning the way he had come. But it would have been longer still if
Aegis
had shed any of the Fleet’s normal-space velocity.

Happily, he had not had to confront using that velocity to slaughter a world of Gw’oth. Good news, indeed.

“Voice, record a reply.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Recall order acknowledged. On my way home. Will check in every three days.” Nessus paused. “Send that to the Hindmost.”

“Very good, sir.”

On the long trip home, he would try to make sense of the new task Baedeker and Nike had inexplicably assigned to him. What did he even know about . . . ?

Nessus had to flip his mindset into Interworld to frame his own question. Counterespionage. How would he find Achilles’ illicit sources—spies—within Clandestine Directorate?

Where would he even begin?

Nessus gazed again at the glowing nebulae. He would enjoy their beauty a bit longer.

“Voice. Put through a hyperwave call to New Terra. I urgently need to consult with Sigmund Ausfaller.”

From the center of his spacious audience chamber Achilles settled into a mound of plush cushions, then gestured graciously to his minions to make themselves comfortable. He expected this to be a long meeting.

Clotho, his usually alert gaze dulled by fatigue, chose a lesser collection of pillows. Louis and Enzio took opposite ends of the low human-style sofa.

All watched Achilles expectantly.

“We shall begin,” Achilles said. “The topic is our disposition of the Gw’oth fleet.”

Disposition.
Achilles thought it the perfect word. No battle. No danger. Merely a task to accomplish, items to be discarded. Nothing scary.

After ten consecutive days in hyperspace, most of the Citizen crew was anxious, short-tempered, despondent. Two cowered in their cabins, lost to catatonia. Of the humans Achilles had less ability to judge, but they, too, struck him as ill at ease.

And so production of new fusion suppressors lagged behind his goals. That was all right. The shortfall had only propelled him to new heights of brilliance.

“We heed, Excellency,” Clotho said. He spoke English, of course, so the humans could take part, but adding respectful grace notes for Achilles’ ears. “Guide us.”

“I have devised a foolproof plan.” Achilles inhaled deeply, the air thicker than ever with artificial herd pheromone. The rich scent sufficed to maintain his calm. “I brought you here to discuss implementation.

“The action we last planned depended on the Gw’oth fleet following a pattern. Unfortunately, they changed their pattern.”

“So we return to normal space to learn their new pattern?” Enzio asked hopefully.

Too hopefully. He, too, suffered from so long in hyperspace.

“To the contrary,” Achilles answered. “The surest place to meet them is where they must appear: near Kl’mo.” And that is why
Remembrance
must arrive first.

Unseen within Clotho’s nest of pillows, a paw ripped through meadowplant to scrape at the hard deck beneath. “The crew will redouble its efforts to build suppressors.”

“In the new plan,” Achilles said, “we will not need so many. Perhaps none at all.”

Louis’s eyes narrowed. “What
is
this new plan, Achilles?”

“In a way, it is
your
plan, Louis.” Achilles paused dramatically. “We will use our planet-buster.”

Clotho twitched. Enzio looked puzzled. Louis looked . . . wary.

“I will explain,” Achilles said. “The plan is quite simple. We arrive first. We deploy a few passive probes instrumented to sense any large hyperwave disturbances.
Remembrance
remains outside the singularity by making very short hops centered on the enemy’s solar system.

“We wait and watch for the ripples of the Gw’oth fleet emerging. If the fleet arrives when we ourselves are in hyperspace, we will find that upon our reemergence by querying the probes. When the enemy appears—we deploy the planet-buster.”

“Then we will need a rogue planet to bust,” Clotho said. “Finding one may take time.”

Not so. That was the beauty of the plan. That and the delicious irony that Baedeker had developed the technology that would doom his rule. That and the equally wonderful twist of fate that Baedeker would never have succeeded in developing that technology without the help of Ol’t’ro, now leader of the rebellious Gw’oth.

Achilles said, “Debris is only necessary to cover a large volume. For a volume not much larger than a solar system, the device’s other effects suffice.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Louis said.

“The space-time effects should be more than adequate.” The effects would be spectacular, but not everyone could appreciate his vision. And the understatement of
adequate,
like
disposition,
amused Achilles.

“I . . . see,” Louis said.

“You do not seem convinced,” Achilles prompted.

“No, I am.” Louis leaned forward. “Just trying to work out the sequence
in my mind. See enough ripples to denote the Gw’oth fleet emerging, jettison the planet-buster, activate it, and then
Remembrance
jumps to hyperspace before the device triggers.”

“Correct.”

“And the drive stays stable for
how
long?” Louis persisted.

Did Louis imagine the plan not thought through? Achilles began to feel irked. “The latest devices are much more stable than those Ausfaller observed. We will have minutes to activate our hyperdrive.” A few seconds would be ample.

“A brilliant plan, Excellency,” Clotho offered. “I shall direct the crew to cease production of fusion suppressors.”

And leave them with idle mouths and jaws?
More
would lose their minds. Achilles said, “Have them continue. Now let us turn to the details. . . .”

Louis’s mind reeled. By warning off the Gw’oth fleet, Louis had managed to make the situation worse. Somehow, he had to stop Achilles. But how?

Achilles finally dismissed everyone. Enzio lagged behind with Louis while Clotho cantered ahead.

When Clotho disappeared around a curve of corridor, Enzio grabbed Louis by the arm. “You’re not one of my team, Wu. Achilles picked you, so maybe you don’t owe me an answer. But something is bothering you. Something major.”

Nessus had worried aboard
Aegis
that Achilles would make and hide bugs. Louis was not about to gamble Achilles did not spy here. Louis took out his sketch pad and pen and jotted a note. He flashed the page at Enzio.
Sensors. Have my comp?
Louis returned pad and pen to his pocket.

Enzio nodded, ever so slightly.

“I’m going for a walk,” Louis said. “Deck Eight, outer corridor. Care to join me?”

“Thanks. I have something to do first. I’ll catch up with you.”

Enzio joined Louis a few minutes later. Soon after, power walking side by side, Louis noticed an unaccustomed bulge in his pocket. Pickpocket was obviously among his crewmate’s criminal skills.

After another half lap around the corridor, Louis slipped a hand into that pocket and found a comp. By touch he fingered a four-button numeric
control code. He was rewarded by a soft chirp acknowledging activation of what Sigmund called protocol gamma: sound suppression, bug suppression, and a holographic projection to defeat lip readers. Louis left the comp in his pocket. A passerby or hidden camera noticing a translucent aura around the two men was a bigger risk than Puppeteers who read lips.

“If this isn’t the comp you took from me on
Addison,
tell me now,” Louis said.

“It is,” Enzio said. “Now, who are you? One of Sigmund Ausfaller’s agents?”

“Let’s just say I’m not who Achilles thinks I am. We need to talk fast. The jamming field is apt to show up in security sensors as noise. Jamming mode will turn itself off before anyone is likely to come looking.”

“Evasion duly noted. So what is the problem?” Pause. “How crazy
is
this new plan of his?”

Not crazy impractical. Genocidal and sociopathic crazy. “The planet-buster,” Louis began cautiously. “Do you know much about them?”

“They bust planets. From what Achilles said, they shake up space-time when they go off.” Enzio wheezed, out of shape and out of breath, and slowed their pace. “Sounds like a nice safe way to take out the Gw’oth fleet.”

“Oh, it is.” And
Alice
’s ship, too, tanj it. She had left for Kl’mo days before Enzio kidnapped Louis. She would not be quite there yet, but she would arrive before
Remembrance.
He
had
to stop Achilles. “But there are a couple of details Achilles hasn’t shared.

“If the Gw’oth are a danger to the Citizens, it’s because of
his
machinations. He instigated a war between Gw’oth worlds just to create a fleet that would pass near Hearth. By squashing the threat he himself created, he expects the Experimentalists to elevate him to Hindmost.”

“And the other detail?”

“Those space-time ‘ripples’?” Louis shivered. “They’ll be enough to disrupt planetary orbits across the solar system. Drop planets into the sun? Eject planets into the dark between stars? Anything can happen, and there’s a whole innocent colony on one of those worlds.”

Enzio scowled. “I’m a thief, not a physicist. But neither am I an idiot. We can’t possibly be carrying something with the power to do that.”

“I’m no physicist, either, but I understand basic mechanics. Citizens keep trying to duplicate the planetary drives bought at great price from the Outsiders. The homemade drives are unstable, so they blow planets apart rather than move them.

“The thing is, Enzio, no one fully understands Outsider technologies. Not hyperdrive. Not the planetary drive. Not the reactionless drive that propels Outsider ships in normal space. But here is one amazing thing we do know. A city-sized Outsider ship can drop from near light speed to a dead stop, or zoom back again, in an instant.”

Sigmund had seen it happen. So, Louis was almost certain, had First Father. Sigmund’s story had struck a chord, had reawakened another cryptic childhood memory of Beowulf and Carlos talking while young Louis skulked about.

“To stop,” Louis continued, “that ship sheds an
incredible
amount of kinetic energy. If it didn’t, the ship would vaporize from kinetic energy transformed to heat. To instantly reacquire that velocity, the same ship regains the same amount of kinetic energy. Only the Outsiders know how it’s done, but their ships must shift energy between normal space and . . . somewhere. Hyperspace? Another dimension? Another universe? Don’t ask me. But they do it.”