The Ascendant Stars (5 page)

Greg stopped, hands grasping the rough rope on either side. For a moment they stared at each other in total silence, then she smiled one of her teasing half-smiles and beckoned to him. This way …

She moved out of sight, obviously heading for the next curve of bridge. Greg broke out of his frozen reverie and hurried after her, climbed the last steep stretch to the platform and found himself standing there alone. For a second he thought that this was a
repeat of last night until he saw a solitary figure quite a distance along the next bridge, receding into misty grey. Greg followed.

For the next hour and a half she led him on a winding, wordless, strangely unhurried chase up through the branchways of the forest. Sometimes he would call out to her, usually when he lost track of her, and she would step into view, finger raised to her lips, then point the way. Or she would somehow move from one level of walkways to a higher one, and wave at him, indicating the stairs or ladders he would have to take.

The higher he went, the cooler and fresher the air became, as the light steadily brightened. He also noticed that her route bypassed any Uvovo settlements they came near, which implied secrecy or reluctance or both. But he persisted in his pursuit despite aches, bumps, bruises, splinters, and a cut in his forehead from a thorny creeper.

The zenith was a sturdy wooden platform vine-lashed to the crook of three leaf-heavy branches, the uppermost limbs of one of the forest’s mightiest giants. Catriona was waiting for him when he finished his climb, and having at last got this close he could see that she was a ghost. Her eyes regarded him calmly yet he could see through her shimmering form.

‘So you’re … well, a spirit?’ he said, masking his sorrow. ‘A spectre, maybe?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not dead! – this is just the best that Segrana and the Zyradin can manage just now. There’s a lot of repair work going on, and not just in the places damaged by the fighting … and me. Every root and branch is being made ready for war.’

‘War,’ Greg echoed. ‘You mean when the Brolts send in their reinforcements?’

‘The Brolturans?’ She shook her head. ‘No, no, I’m talking about the Legion of Avatars, remember? Did ye not know that their agent finally got to Giant’s Shoulder? Powered up the warpwell, reversed its flow, and basically turned it into one big escape hatch to let the Legion of Avatars out of their hyperspace prison.’

Greg was appalled. ‘My God – so it’s happened. The Sentinel once told me that there could be over a million of those things still down there … ’

‘Aye, and maybe the rest. Don’t think they’ll be in a good mood when they get out. Which brings us to you.’ She paused to glance up at the sky where Darien hung, a shining blue-white orb. ‘When they arrive, the first hammerblows will fall here. After realising that Darien presents no threat, they’ll look further afield and find this moon and Segrana and the Zyradin and come straight for us.’ She looked him in the eye. ‘Which is why you’ve got to leave. Won’t be long before it’s too dangerous for ye here.’

He was taken aback but still smiled at her.

‘I can see that there might be a bit of a stramash, but if you think I’m gonnae scarper and leave you here … ’

‘Greg, ye don’t understand! – it’s not going to be as civilised as a battle in space. This moon will be a target – the forest and Segrana could burn.’ She sighed and started to reach out to him, then stopped. ‘Ye canna stay here, my love. There’s too much for you to do … no, please don’t ask, I can’t explain what I’ve seen but you have to trust me, Greg. Please, I’m begging you.’

Greg breathed in deep, trying to steady himself, then let it out.

‘Is this some kind o’ second-sight, seeing-the-future thing?’

‘I don’t even know how to answer … ’

‘Okay, but how can I get off Nivyesta?’ he said. ‘Every craft of every kind is lying about the forest in a million pieces.’

‘That’s not a problem,’ Catriona said, glancing over her shoulder. ‘Your lift’ll be here pretty soon … ’

He followed her gaze and saw a dark speck descending steeply from the sky then flattening out into a curved trajectory that came round about ten miles away and headed straight for them.

‘Who are they?’ he said. ‘How do they know that I’m here?’

‘They’re allies of your Uncle Theo, a faction of the Tygran military opposed to the pro-Hegemony hierarchy. As for how they know where to pick you up – your uncle sent a message via the Forerunner platform at Tusk Mountain, trying to find out if you were still alive, and we told him where you’d be and when … ’

‘Uncle Theo sent a … but how can anyone be sending messages from Darien?’ he said. ‘The Sentinel’s dead, isn’t it?’

‘Oh aye, it got scrambled and wiped when the Legion Knight took control of the warpwell,’ Catriona said. ‘But when the Zyradin entered Segrana’s great web of being through me, they began cooperating on a few things and were able to reactivate a few of the Tusk Mountain platform functions. When they work together, their abilities are astonishing. They’re greater than the sum of their parts, far greater.’

Greg eyed the approaching craft. It was only minutes away. ‘You don’t want me here when the big event kicks off,’ he said, looking back at her. ‘So what is my part in all this?’

‘My love, you could be … well, pretty important. To a lot of folk down on Darien. Maybe no one knows what really happened on Giant’s Shoulder, or what Vashutkin really is.’

‘Uncle Theo might,’ he said. ‘Wouldna put it past the wily old fox to have sniffed out flaws in whatever Vashutkin’s been saying about the fight on Giant’s Shoulder.’

In his mind’s eye he saw again the combat droids that had cornered him, converging on his lone position, recalled perfectly how his passenger the Zyradin had, in the blink of an eye, turned them into cascades of disassembled parts. A precursor to the cleansing of the moon Nivyesta.

‘But if Theo’s gone to the trouble of trying to find me,’ he went on, ‘then he might have put himself in danger. Aye, you’re right – I’ve got tae get back to Darien.’

Catriona regarded him somewhat sadly, her form shimmering and spectral, and nodded.

‘Trust your reason, Greg, and your compassion – keep a tight grip on them both in the days ahead.’ She retreated into the shadows of enclosing foliage. ‘You should wave to them … ’

Greg was torn. ‘Are you really … ’

‘It’s me, Greg, only me. Now stand in the open, will ye? Right where they can see ye … ’

‘Will I see you again?’

Her face was composed but there was anguish in her eyes.

‘I don’t know, Greg, I just don’t … look, they’re nearly here! Wave, go on … ’

Turning, he leaned out, waving both arms. A small vessel resembling a stubby flattened delta was gliding past a hundred metres away, the air beneath it rippling and twisting. As he yelled and gesticulated wildly it banked in his direction. Slowing, it turned and sideslipped towards him, its blue and silver hull gleaming the light of dawn. A side hatch slid aside while a thin-looking gangway extruded tonguelike beneath. Inside, a fair-haired man in familiar dark blue body armour raised a hand in greeting.

‘Mr Cameron?’

‘That’s me, all right!’

‘I am Lieutenant Berg – we’re here on Major Karlsson’s recommendation to offer you passage to Darien. If you step on the footway I’ll guide you across … ’

He glanced round at Catriona, half-hidden in the shadows, from which she blew him a kiss, before he lifted one foot onto the gangway. Moments later Greg was inside the shuttlecraft, forced to crouch by the cramped interior. He paused to gaze back out at the leaf-shrouded branch platform but Cat was gone.

‘Did you forget something, sir?’

‘No, just wanted one last look.’

The hatch slid shut, enclosing him in a small passenger compartment, its interior smoothly panelled in grey and pale mauve. Berg helped him into one of the couches and showed him how the webby strapping worked. This was Greg’s first sight of a Tygran Human and he was both fascinated and reassured to see a certain normality in the man’s demeanour. Once he was secure the Tygran clambered into the right-side command pilot couch – another man occupied the left-side one, prodding or rapid-fingering a holoconsole while muttering into a lip-bead mike. The craft was already under way, going by the just-discernible effects of inertia on his stomach.

‘Sit tight, Mr Cameron,’ Berg said. ‘We’ll be back at our ship in no time.’

‘Sounds good, aye. So you’re all Tygran soldiers, eh? And you’ve rebelled against your government, I hear.’

‘A fair summary, sir,’ Berg said over his shoulder. ‘Although the situation is a bit more complex in the detail. Commander Ash said that he’ll brief you on the background soon as we’re aboard the
Starfire
.’

Greg nodded and sat back, trying to suppress his growing flight anxiety. He breathed in deep. It was an odd feeling, stepping from Segrana’s bio-organic surroundings into this high-tech vessel – the air was different, as were the textures, the sounds and the smells. And suddenly he was aware that he was in considerable need of a bath.
Well, not much in the way of showers and soap down on Nivyesta
.

The journey to orbit took less than half an hour. Both Berg and the pilot wore shaded data goggles of some kind but otherwise there were no displays showing exterior views. The first indication that they were docking with the Tygran ship was a few seconds of deceleration followed by thuds against the hull and a sideways lurch.

‘Retrieval achieved,’ Berg said. ‘Bay sealed.’

As the Tygrans put away the pilot goggles, Greg’s couch released him from the strap-web, which retracted into the right-hand raised edge. The hatch was open, Berg waved him through and moments later he was climbing a narrow companionway out of the shuttlecraft bay. He was met at the top by a burly, dark-haired man in a charcoal-grey uniform.

‘Mr Cameron, my name is Malachi Ash and I am the commander of this vessel,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Your uncle, Major Karlsson, is quite a character, very persuasive.’

‘You’re not the first to notice,’ Greg said as they shook hands.

‘If you come with me, I’ll show you your quarters.’

Greg was led down a narrow corridor, past crew bunkers, with Ash talking as they went.

‘The major and my superior, Captain Franklyn, want you back on Darien without delay so we’ve already broken orbit and locked into a return trajectory. We should be entering Darien’s orbital shell in less than an hour.’

Not knowing how much the Tygran knew about the warpwell and the Legion of Avatars, he decided to avoid the topic.

‘Commander, your man Berg said you’d be filling me in on some of the background, especially regarding your own part in all of this. Also I was wondering how soon I’ll be able to speak with my uncle.’

‘If you like, we can go straight to the bridge now and I can have the tac officer try to raise our planetside operator. And he’ll see if the major is available.’

Greg nodded. ‘That sounds great. Let’s do it.’

‘Very well. Your sleeping rack is just along there, second on the right, if you want to rest before Darien.’ Ash indicated a narrow side passage, then led Greg back to a junction and down a steep set of steps. ‘As to how we came to be here, well, it’s a tale and a half and your uncle played a big role in it.’

‘Why am I not surprised?’

As they headed forward and then up more stairs, Greg heard how several days ago Ash was carrying out a stealth mission on Nivyesta when he was captured by the Uvovo. Greg remembered hearing about this from the Sentinel, details which Ash confirmed, how the Uvovo scholars had neutralised the binary bomb in his chest. Ash gave a brief account of how he and Uncle Theo were rescued from pro-Hegemony Tygrans by Franklyn Gideon, captain of the renegade Stormlion troopers. It ended with the encounter with the Tygran Marshal Becker aboard his flagship, and the intervention by a bizarre vessel sent by the Roug, an ancient and mysterious species.

Ash finished up as they entered the bridge, a split-level space narrowing towards the forward viewport. Its curved transparency glimmered at the edges with data feeds and system graphics of one kind or another, but it was the view of Darien that held Greg’s attention, a bright blue and white orb set against the hazy swirls of interstellar dust which blurred the stars into glimmering haloed jewels.

Home
. The pang of yearning he felt was unexpected, and conflicted with his thoughts of Catriona and an instinctive reluctance to leave her behind. But leave he must.

Commander Ash settled into the captain’s chair and attached comm devices to ear and mouth. A moment later he was in conversation with one of the other two bridge officers whose stations sat on the lower level. He nodded and turned back to Greg.

‘We’re still out of the effective range of the portable communicator back on Darien. Another twenty minutes and we’ll be able to establish a secure link.’

‘Thanks,’ Greg said. ‘I appreciate your efforts. In the meantime, there’s a wee gap or two in my understanding … ’

‘You mean how
we
came to be here?’

Greg nodded. ‘Was it the result of a clash of politics?’

Ash frowned. ‘On Tygra we don’t have your kind of political debate. We have been a military society for so long that many aspects of public provision – health, education, or power supplies, for example – have remained universal due to a consensus of necessity. Resources are not plentiful, which has led to restrictions on market influences. Our energies are instead directed towards improvements in our combat abilities and readiness. There is honour in battle and the love and litany of battle forces certain responsibilities on every Tygran soldier.