Morgan's Choice (11 page)

“Mm.”

All gone; a frigate and her crew, all her
fighters. Not one survivor. Ravindra wished he knew what had
happened. What could he tell their families? Killed in action by
alien interlopers. And as before, hardly a scrap of
Yogina
ship to be found, and no
bodies. It was as if the defenders had been taken completely
unawares. Yet Captain Farvel had launched all his
fighters.

Prasad cleared his throat. “We do have
some evidence of another ship,
Srimana
.”

“Yes?”

“We found emissions here.” Prasad indicated
the spot. “A vessel came out of shift-space here, almost stopped,
turned around and retreated. It would have been the same time as
the action here. My people are checking the travel manifests at the
most likely departure points for Andreena now to see if anything
was expected. Maybe they saw something.”

“
Good. I hope they did.” Ravindra rested
his forearm on his desk. “Where will they hit next? That’s the real
issue. Along with working out how to stop them.”

“They seem to be keeping to the outskirts of
our territory. If they keep following this line,” Prasad traced a
line on the sector hologram with a lightpen, “they’ll hit
Poldark.”

“Yes, or Mumbasa or Bangalar or Krystor or
Dahl or Zhabesh or…” Ravindra frowned. “I don’t have enough ships
to protect them all. Find that ship.”

****

Vidhvansaka
had barely made Hendra orbit when Prasad
appeared in Ravindra’s office after the most perfunctory of bows.
“We’ve found that ship, Admiral. The one that appeared off
Andreena
,
” he said
without preamble.

“Ah. Excellent.” Ravindra stood. “Where is
the master?”

“
We can bring him up,
Srimana
, or you can go to him.”

“We will go to him.”

****

Ravindra took over the Hendra space
station’s manager’s office for the interview, sitting behind the
man’s Spartan desk. Neat and functional; just as it should be. The
view screens on the round walls fed pictures from mounted cameras
so they looked like windows out into space. They weren’t of course;
the office was well within the center of the station’s
hub.

A brief knock, Ravindra nodded and the guard
opened the door. The master, shabby in a frayed jacket and baggy
pants fastened at the ankle, stood between Prasad and a junior
NCO.

“This is Admiral Ravindra, Master Pitt,”
Prasad said. “He wishes to hear your story as much as I do.”

“Come in, Master and sit,” Ravindra said.

The man bowed, shuffled forward and perched
on the edge of the visitor’s chair.

“Not much to tell, Admiral,” said Pitt,
rubbing his hands up and down his thighs. “We didn’t hang
around.”

“No. Very wise,” Ravindra said. “I doubt you
would have lasted.”

“
We saw the warship blow. Pow!” He
described a blossom in the air with his arms. He blinked so rapidly
his eyes appeared to flicker. “Nothing we could have
done.”

“So you arrived out of shift-space near
Andreena. This was a routine delivery?” Ravindra asked.

“
Yes. Just supplies. And there was this
huge…” Pitt hesitated, searching for words, “…thing, ship. Long and
dark. No running lights.”

“
We have vision,
Srimana
,” Prasad said. “Sensor data.”

Magnificent. “Show me.”

Prasad projected to a view screen on the
wall.

At last. Ravindra leaned forward. His enemy,
vast and featureless. A long, dark rectangle, little more,
silhouetted against the starry backdrop. Andreena, a typical blue,
green and white inhabited world, appeared to its left, surrounded
by moving dots and short dashes.

“There it was,” Pitt said. “It’s at an angle
so you can’t see how long it was. Must’ve been fifteen, twenty
klicks. Around the planet there were these other, smaller ships and
fighters.”

Prasad zoomed in on the smaller
ships.
Yogina
assault
ships, as the survivor had described them back at Dilmar, many
damaged but more, many more, continuing on to orbit. The familiar
arrowhead fighters headed for the planet. In between, dodging and
darting, manesan fighters engaged the enemy. As he watched,
a
Yogina
ship’s
shields flared and a missile struck.

“There’s debris everywhere,” Prasad
murmured.

“Oh, yes,” Pitt said. “Dead ships, hulks. And
the warship—ours—charged on to attack that monster.”

A suicide attack. He would have to have
the images analyzed but it seemed clear enough. Farvel had
aimed
Ajagara
at the
mother ship. Brave man. He deserved a commendation.

What was this, now? The alien ship
appeared to pulse. Lightning bolts of energy shot out from points
along the vessel’s length, like a broadside. When they hit
Ajagara’s
shields they dissipated into a
mist that engulfed the attacking ship. Ephemeral blue tendrils
coalesced and groped blindly, seemingly searching for an entrance.
This was incredible. He’d never seen anything like it, like roots
probing into the crevices between rocks. A tendril at
Ajagara’s
stern brightened, stabbing
down. The energy gathered, glowed bright as a star and the ship’s
engines exploded.

Ravindra closed his eyes. A ship and its
crew, gone.
Ajagara’s
blackened hulk drifted. He mourned for them. That was the
agony of command, ordering people to go into situations where they
might die.

“That mist looked alive,” Prasad said.

“
That’s what I thought.” Pitt said, nodding
vigorously. “Like tentacles, looking for weaknesses.”

“
And found them,” Ravindra murmured. The
images faltered, panned away from the planet. He turned his gaze to
Pitt. “And this is where you turned.”

“
I wasn’t hanging around,
Srimana
. Not
me.” Pitt hesitated, his tongue flicking over his lips.
“
Narla
Maid
is a freighter,
Admiral,
Srimana
. I don’t
know anything about fighting.”

“No. You were very wise. I thank you.”

“You’ll catch them? Clean it up?”

“
Yes. Ravindra rose to his feet, wishing he
was as confident as he sounded. “Senior Commander Prasad will see
you out.”

Ravindra replayed the images back to just
before
Ajagara
was
blown to pieces. Prasad closed the door behind Pitt and rejoined
him. “You noticed that too,
Srimana
?”

“
That they’ve taken all their debris with
them. Yes.” Ravindra rested his elbow on the desk and fingered his
chin. “That weapon… intriguing.
Ajagara
still had power in her shields by the
looks.”

“I’ll have it analyzed. But I agree.” Prasad
caught Ravindra’s eye. “We’re going to have trouble matching that
ship with anything in our armory.”

That was the understatement of the century.
“Let’s hope Selwood can do something with this.” He hoped so. He
was running out of ideas.

Chapter
Twelve

Light filtered down through the high window
of the room, a spotlight on the ephemeral display of dust motes
dancing in its beam. It only happened at this time of day and only
if the sun was shining, bringing with it a fleeting memory of fresh
air and freedom. Jones eased his buttocks in the chair and admired
the tiny, swirling specks of brightness. This way and that they
flitted and glided, almost as if they were alive. More so than he
was.

At least the university was better than
military headquarters, which in turn was better than the battle
cruiser. Here, they’d treated him kindly, given him a small
apartment, a modicum of comfort. A sitting room with three chairs
and a holovid, a few pictures on the walls in exchange for more
blood tests, more samples, more scans. And more questions.

The sun moved on across the roof.

Display over, Jones filled a kettle in the
tiny kitchen to boil water for the ubiquitous
charb
. He wished he could go home. Wake up from this
nightmare, tangled up in bedclothes in his own bed.

The kettle boiled. He spooned some
dried
charb
root into
a mug, poured and left it to steep, breathing in the familiar,
bitter odor. Was this what depression felt like? When dying seemed
a happy option? He shivered. Maybe not quite so bad. But
hopelessness, sure. Even if they let him out of here, what then? No
friends, no contacts, no money. And no skills. Not like Selwood.
Where would she be? Still on the battle cruiser? Or executed for
insubordination?

A door creaked open, the one into the
corridor. Odd. They usually told him when they were coming. He
turned to confront the blue-uniformed university guard.

“You are to come. Quickly.” The fellow waved
a nerve stick.

They’d used one of those on him at the
military headquarters. His whole body prickled at the very thought.
“Sure.”

Leaving his
charb
, he preceded his escort into the corridor, where another
man waited. He didn’t recognize either of them. But then, he’d only
been here for five or six days. Maybe this was a
rotation.

They hurried him along, past the turn to the
main university laboratories and down a dark passage. His nerves
jangled a warning. This was something new. What now? A service
area, narrow and utilitarian, poorly lit, smelling musty with a
chemical hint. They hustled past store cupboards and an entrance
marked ‘janitor’. At the end, the leading guard swiped a passcard
over a panel. The door ground upwards, slow and noisy, revealing an
enclosed vehicle carrying cleaning supplies.

Even before the portal had finished its
ascent, the second guard urged him into the back. “Get in.
Hurry.”

He clambered inside, over cartons and
bundles.

“Lie down here. And remain silent.”

A few bundles of towels were thrown over him,
then the guard clumped out of the vehicle and the doors closed. A
breakout? Is that what this was? Sayvu’s father, maybe? Hope, a
wavering candle flame, ignited in his heart. An arthritic wheeze
and the van trundled off. Judging by the bump and sway, this one
had wheels. Now with the doors closed the smell of cleaning fluids
filled the space and fibers from the towels tickled his nose.

The van stopped. Feet crunched on gravel.
The door opened. Jones buried his head, mouth dry with fear.
Please don’t find
me. Please don’t take me back
.

“Just at the front here.”

A muffled thump as something was dropped on
the floor and the doors closed again, throwing the van into blessed
darkness. Jones sagged.

More bumping and thumping. The vehicle jolted
to a halt, the door opened again.

“
Sur
Jones, come.” The words were hissed,
urgent.

He pushed the covering towels aside,
clambered past buckets and boxes and dropped to the ground. An
enclosed yard. Two other vehicles, identical to the one he’d just
emerged from, stood side-by-side. All three had ‘Dhobi Cleaning
Services’ emblazoned on their sides in blue.

“This way.”

A hand fastened on his upper arm and dragged
him into the building. He just had time to notice steam and shiny
cylinders on a tiled floor before he was towed into an office.
Desk, chair, computer station, view screens on the walls, one of
them monitoring the steam-filled room he’d just crossed.

“Put this on.” His benefactor thrust a
garment at him.

A hooded coat. Jones pulled it on, flicked up
the hood and gazed at an older man with yellow streaks in his long
hair. He wore a blue coat over yellow trousers and a yellow,
collarless shirt. “Who are you?”

“You can call me Lakshman. Keep the hood
pulled down.”

He led Jones outside, where a breeze stirred
the trees and clouds drifted across a sparkling blue-green sky. A
glimpse of foliage, of trees and he was pushed into the back seat
of a skimmer.

“Where exactly are we going?”

Lakshman smiled. “I have a few friends who
are anxious to meet you.”

The vehicle lifted and moved off, smooth and
silent. No wheels on this machine. Expensive. Jones could smell the
opulence even without the golden appointments, the plush red seats,
the paneled interior. These were the sorts of friends he liked.

“Why do they want to meet me?”

“We think we could be of mutual benefit to
each other.”

“Who is ‘we’ and what sort of benefit?”

“When we arrive.”

Jones gazed out the darkened window. ‘We’
would be
Bunyada
, he was
certain. Help—his guess would be Selwood. They didn’t really think
he could help get her off the warship did they? Just the thought of
it was enough to send shivers down his spine. His hands tingled
with remembered pain. They’d hurt him just to prove they
could.

For a few klicks the car traveled between
ugly grey blocks and yards surrounded by open fencing. Twice the
limousine lifted to pass over the top of wheeled vans. An
industrial estate? He supposed every planet had them.

Soon the vehicle left the city behind and
followed a winding forest road. This person they were visiting must
be a country lad. He didn’t think Vesha would be country lads, but
what would he know.