Reavers (Book 3) (40 page)

“I wish I could explain, but there isn’t time.  Please, I need you to do this for me.”

He shifted in his chair and stared at her for a moment.

“You know I can’t say no to you,” he said with a sigh.  “I’ll keep him occupied.”

“I owe you one,” she said with a smile as he stood and cut the link.

Isabella let out a sigh of relief.  Nayoun would keep Renoff out of her hair for a while.  Reluctantly, she picked up the pad he had left behind and surveyed the damage.  She had seen some of the orders, but those had only been the tip of the iceberg.  Renoff had reassigned almost
half
of their forces away from Lintilä.

The fool was doubling down on taking out pirates across the Commonwealth.  Ambushes, stings, traps and countless other operations had pulled most of MI’s resources too far from Lintilä to be useful in any timeframe.  She countermanded as many as her rank allowed, but several of the missions their prototype Vanguards had been assigned to could only be canceled by the leader of MI only.

Even with him distracted, Renoff was still thwarting her efforts to solve his mess.  There weren’t many options left to her.  The most direct approach would be to have the man stripped of his rank.  However, that would be a complex undertaking that would require more evidence than her opinion alone.  She quickly set up a new communications link.

“Ma’am?” Nobue asked in confusion.

“What is the status of the Master Weaver?” she asked authoritatively.

“Still unconscious,” he said, snapping to attention.  “We are doing our best, but the medic at the staging point doesn’t know the first thing about Weavers.”

“His recovery is now a primary priority.  We must know what happened to him!”

“I would enjoy nothing more, but how exactly do you advise I proceed?”

“It doesn’t matter how, just that you succeed.  I . . .
We
need that Weaver up and about.  Kidnap his mother and send her in with hot chicken noodle soup if you have to!  Just get him talking.”

Rosalyn headed to the galley.  She knew the crewmembers would be asleep and there wouldn’t be anything more than a few leftovers and some drinks, but she had to go somewhere.  The image of the white thing devastating the pirates wouldn’t let her sleep.  There wasn’t much light at this hour and even less to eat.  Selecting what was left of a pie and a cold drink, Rosalyn turned to find a table.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” a voice called softly.

“Andreas, is that you?”

Hidden in the shadows on one of the farther tables was Andreas, stirring a mug of something.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked as she took a seat.

“Would you listen to me if I said no?”

“Still in a mood I see.”

“I think I’m entitled.  I knew nothing good could come from attacking a super freighter.”

“Yes you did, although I seriously doubt you fully expected what we found.”

“Got me there.  Never had I wished to be wrong more than when that
thing
started killing ships.”

“Think it was some Shard weapon?”

“Could be, although from what I know of the Shard, their stuff is black as death - not white.”

“So you think it was one of ours?”

“No idea,” Andreas said as his stirring slowed.  “It didn’t look like anything I’ve ever heard of.  MI did go overboard with the Freeport stunt.  Maybe their new leader is some psychopath with a penchant for being . . .
original
.”

“Even if they had the craziest leader around, that still doesn’t explain
how
that thing did what it did.  I’ve been around the Navy my whole life; been shot at more times than I can count.  But not once was it like that.  Sure, pluses of energy that looked like fireflies or small shafts of light by the ton, but a solid beam of energy that big?  Never.”

“At least we survived.”

“Did any of the others make it?”

“Doesn’t look like it.  There was only one other jump signature out of the area besides our own.  I’m willing to bet it wasn’t a pirate ship.”

“So what do we do now?  Just shrug it off?  Say it was some kind of monster from the void and carry on.”

“You’re not going to like what I think we should do . . .”

“You want us to visit the Circle,” she said with a sigh.  “Warn them about what we saw.”

“How did . . .”

“Tardos has been bugging me, too.  Keeps prattling on about it being our duty to the other guilds and whatnot.”

“I don’t know about the guilds or the Circle, but I do know we owe our lives to those pirates.  If they hadn’t distracted that evil thing we would have been next.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t make an argument that made sense.”  Rosalyn folded her arms.  “Makes it easier to ignore you.”

“So I guess you don’t need me anymore,” Andreas said as he started stirring his drink again.

“Oh?”

“Looks like you’ve finally found someone better to replace me.  Longin does have an eye for cargo.”

“Don’t be stupid; no one is replacing you.”

“So ignoring me is the next best option.”

“Look, Longin is great with the business side of things, but you saw him on the bridge.  He completely froze.  I can’t depend on someone who loses it under fire.  Worse than that, he disobeyed a direct order and forced us to jump.”

“I’ll remind you that is why we are all still here.  If we had stayed and fought we’d have been a floating field of molten slag.”

“Okay, I’ll give him points for getting lucky.  However, you know full well that I can’t put my trust in someone that will disregard my orders the instant he gets nervous.  Plus, all he thinks of is the profit.  He never saw that trap coming; you did.”

“Maybe I just got lucky, too.”

“Oh, don’t pout.  You’re still my second.  I admit I should have listened to you.”

“Was that an apology, Rosy?” Andreas asked, slightly stunned.

“I don’t make many, but I
do
make mistakes.  Forgive me?”

Andreas’ eyes widened and he started to chuckle.

“I think I preferred it when you ignored me,” he said with a grin.  “So what are you going to do next?”

“Well, Dad always told me never to let a debt sit unsettled.  We owe our lives to those pirates that didn’t make it.  I suppose we have no choice but to visit the Circle.”

“Do we even know how to get in contact with them?”

“Tardos said he’d take care of everything.”

“
Tardos
?”

“Don’t look at me like that.  He might be on the short side and a bit absentminded, but he knows all about this guild nonsense.  If anyone knows how we’d go about meeting the Circle, it’s him.”

“Let’s just hope they are in the mood to talk with a group of independents.”

“Think of it this way.  If we get shot at by a guild battleship, we call the debt cleared.”

“Not sure I like the idea of repaying their lives with our own,” Andreas said with a grin.

The strain was much more intense than Brent had anticipated.  He had never attempted something like this on a person before.  From the moment he discovered he was somehow related to the Shard, he had spent all of his free time investigating to find out exactly what that meant.  At the moment, the most pertinent thing was that his is right arm wasn’t his anymore.

He had lost the original during the Shard invasion, and for some reason the machines that served Third had built him a new one.  He knew it wasn’t really his, but oddly it felt more natural than his left most days.  He had to smile as he thought of his nervousness the first time he visited a doctor to be tested for the gravity treatments.  The entire time he was in a near panic the doctor would discover the limb was some metal monstrosity of the Shard and his simple life would end before it began.

However, the work of the Shard was impeccable.  While the arm hid their technology within, it still passed the scrutinizing eye of the doctor with flying colors.  A gentle throbbing in the back of his head pulled him back to the task at hand.  One of the toys the Shard had integrated into the arm was one of the ways they communicated with each other.  To them it was nothing more impressive than a pad was to the Commonwealth.

The amazing device allowed commutation
without
speech.  From a technical standpoint he was still working on deciphering its workings, but from a practical standpoint he was getting quite skilled at its use.  Or at least he thought he was.  His practice on smaller animals and a few larger ones on a nearby ranch hadn’t even been close to the sensation of linking to another self-aware being.

    Owen’s wounds had been deep, both physically and mentally.  Trying to reach him was like navigating a maze that had been devastated by an earthquake.  Focusing his mind, he searched deeper and deeper until he found what he was looking for.  Rallying himself, he joined Owen.  His friend was hunched over his leg, weeping.  The sadness Brent could feel was overwhelming.

“It’s been a while,” he said as he stood next to the weeping young man.

“Who’s that?” Owen glanced around before locking on Brent.  “You?  What are
you
doing here?  I thought you were off teaching on the rim.”

“That’s right.  Thought I’d take a break and visit you.”

“Come to pay your final respects?”

“Final respects?”

“To Hiroko.”  Owen held back his tears.  “I killed her.  I loved her, but I killed her.”

“Really?  How’s that?”

“I don’t . . . remember.  I slit her throat I think.”

“I see.  If that’s the case, then why are
you
here?”

“What do you mean?  I live here!”

“Odd place to settle down,” Brent said with a grin as he gestured to the endless white.

Owen’s eyes widened as he jumped to his feet.  He spun in place as he looked over the endless white.

“Where am I?  I was in my home, perched over Hiroko . . .
where is she
?” he shouted in sudden panic.

“She’s fine,” Brent said reassuringly.  “In fact, you’re the one in trouble.”

“Of course I’m in trouble!  I killed the sweetest girl who ever lived.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.  Listen, can you tell me exactly what happened?”

“It’s fuzzy.  I remember her coming home.  I was in the kitchen - washing dishes.  Then I had a knife in my hand and I wanted to hurt her.”

“How did you get from washing dishes to holding the knife?”

“I . . . I . . . a Weaver!  I remember now!  Dante was there, but it wasn’t Dante.”

“What do you mean?”

“It looked like Dante, but it wasn’t him.  It was cruel and sadistic.  The Weaver was the one who wanted me to hurt Hiroko.”

“Excellent.  Doesn’t look like there is any permanent memory damage.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If Hiroko were here, what would you do?”

“You should know the answer to that.  I’d hold her in my arms and never let go this time.  If I could give my life to bring her back . . .”

“Wonderful!  That’s the Owen I know.  Looks like your personality is intact, too.”

“Are you trying to be confusing?”

“Sorry,” Brent said with a wide smile.  “Was worried about you.”

“Why?  A murderer doesn’t deserve pity.”

“I don’t know about that.  However, in any case you are no murderer.”

“But Hiroko . . .”

Brent closed his eyes and focused for a moment.  The task was exponentially more difficult than he expected.  He still had a lot of practice to do before he could claim to be a master here.  Slowly responding to his desire, a form took shape in the white expanse.

“What’s that?” Owen asked.

“A memory,” Brent said as he opened his eyes.

In the distance they could see Owen perched over Hiroko.  Tears were streaming out of her eyes as he moved a knife toward her.  A looming figure stood behind the two - dressed in the shiny black of a Weaver.  The memory Owen lifted the knife to strike and swung down with incredible force.  However, instead of cutting Hiroko he plunged the knife into his own leg.

“What is this?” he asked, obviously dazed.

“There is no way the Owen I know could hurt the woman he loves.  The imposter failed, and you injured yourself to save Hiroko.”

“But I’m seeing myself . . . how is this possible?”

Brent took a step back and gestured to the white expanse.

“Welcome to the mist of endless reflection,” Brent said proudly.

“The what of what?”

“Owen, what am I?”

“You’re a Weaver.”

“What else?”

“A lucky man to have Cassandra as your public wife.”

“That’s an odd way to put it, but thank you.  However, there is one other thing you are forgetting.”

Abruptly, a Slasher appeared.  It slowly joined Brent’s side and bowed elaborately to Owen.

“That’s right!  The Shards like you for some reason.  Never figured that one out.”

“It’s because I’m one of them.”

“You’re a machine?” Owen asked in shock.

“No, no.  I’m flesh and blood like you and the others, but I also have some of their . . . abilities.  It’s complicated.  Think of me as a mix.”

“So this place is of their doing?”  Owen checked the endless white again.

“More or less.  Technically it’s the visual manifestation of the link between our Sparks.  But I doubt that means much to you.”

“No offense, but you and Cain always had a thing for long stories that don’t make a whole lot of sense.  I just accept everything you two say - if I understand or not.”

“If only a couple of my students were more like you.”  Brent smiled.  “It would save me hours of repeating myself.  Although, I have to admit I’m surprised.”

“
You
?  Surprised?”

“It is known to happen,” he said with a grin.  “I didn’t expect you to react to all this so . . . well.”

“Figured I’d be wetting myself in a panic or something?”

“Not that bad, but I expected at least
something
.”

“I’ll admit I’m a bit overwhelmed,” Owen said as he scratched his head, “but that’s par for the course with you - no offense.”

“None taken.”

“You are one of my best friends, you’ve helped me and Hiroko out more times than I can count, and if all that wasn’t enough, you saved the entire human race.  If that isn’t enough to buy some leeway, I don’t know what will.”

“Not everyone shares that opinion,” Brent said, smiling to himself at the thought of Rupert.

“So I gather you’re the one doing all this.”

“You got it.”

“Is it hard?”

“At first it was near impossible.  But I’ve been working at it.”

“I’d imagine you would.  If I could do something like this I’d practice at it all the time.  Have you shown this to Cassandra?”

“Not yet.  There is a lot on her plate at the moment.  I wouldn’t want to overwhelm her.”

“Oh?  What have I missed?  Hold on . . . how long have I been here?”

“The funny thing about this place is time has no meaning here.  You and I could talk forever and not a single moment would pass outside.  Although, you have been in a coma for a long while.”

“A coma?  When?”

“A while.  Are you ready to wake up?”

“Now I know you’re playing with me.  Are you trying to tell me you can just end a
coma
?”

“I never said
that
part was easy.  But don’t worry, we can leave when you are ready.”

“Is it going to hurt?” Owen asked apprehensively.

“Does that matter?  Hiroko is waiting.”

“Well, why didn’t you say that in the first place!” he shouted as he rubbed his hands together.  “Let’s stop wasting time; get me out of here.”

Hiroko stared at the various readouts without a clue what they meant.  Owen was the medical genius.  He had tried to explain things to her several times, but she had only pretended to listen.  Thinking that she’d never hear him again tore her up inside.  She’d gratefully sit through a boring story about training recruits if it meant she had him back.  Tears started to flow as she thought about how poorly she treated him.  Maybe the Weaver had been right to make Owen attack her.  Giving up on the machine, she turned to face Brent.

“Sorry, I don’t understand them any more than you do,” Hiroko said apologetically.

Brent didn’t answer her.  He was rubbing his temples with a slightly groggy look to him.  Abruptly, Hiroko felt a hand wiping away her tears.

“Don’t cry,” Owen said in a faint voice.

Hiroko jumped back and screamed.

“It’s okay,” Brent said, wincing at the volume of her yelp.  “Looks like a change of scenery did Owen some good.”

“But . . . how . . .” Hiroko stammered as she slowly returned to Owen’s side.

“Now, you didn’t honestly believe Owen would leave you forever, did you?” he asked with a smile.  “Death is going to have to work overtime if it ever wants to separate the two of you.”

“But Janet . . . she said . . .”

“The meeting!” Owen suddenly shouted and started to sit up.  “He ruined your dress.  Did you miss the meeting?”

“The . . .” Hiroko paused and started laughing as happy tears slid down her cheeks.  “You idiot.  You’ve been barely clinging to life and all you can think about is some silly meeting?”

“But the promotion, it meant so much to you.  I’m sure we can convince Friderich that . . .”

“Friderich? That fool.  What about him?”

“Fool?” Owen asked in complete surprise.  “I thought . . . but all the stories.”

“He’s a bungling idiot.  I thought you’d enjoy hearing about his constant mishaps.”

“So you don’t like him?”

“
Like him
?  He’s nothing but a wolf!  I let him think he had a shot at me so he’d keep moving me up the ranks.  He thought he was playing me the whole time.  Had no idea it was the other way around.”

Owen stared at her, completely dumbfounded.  Abruptly Hiroko wrapped her arms around him and kissed him tenderly.  Brent tried to get up and leave, but was suddenly aware of just how exhausted he was.  Simply connecting with Owen had been a tremendous strain.  To help him recover had been difficult on an nearly unfathomable scale.  It felt like someone had ripped him open and forcefully scraped out all his innards.  Unable to stand, the best he could do was turn away to offer some modest privacy.

“I love you, Owen,” Hiroko said softly.

“I haven’t heard you say that in forever . . . how long was I out?” he asked.

“Too long.”  She kissed him again.  When she ended it, a serious look filled her face.  “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I’ve made up my mind.”

“This sounds ominous,” he said with a smile.

“Owen Jepsen, will you marry . . .”

Brent quickly leaned over and covered Hiroko’s mouth.  They both stared at him in complete surprise.  He did his best to hide the tremendous pain the small movement had caused.

“Take it from someone with some experience,” he said.  “Find a more romantic place than a medical ward.”

Hiroko quickly glanced around and burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Owen asked.

“Don’t tell me
you
proposed in a sickbay,” Hiroko said, locking her eyes on Brent.

He smiled faintly and shrugged.

“Well, I certainly won’t be accused of being a copycat,” she said with a grin.

“This isn’t a hospital, is it?” Owen asked after finishing his inspection of the room.

“It’s my home,” Brent said.

“Your home?  How did I get here of all places?”