The Dying Light (4 page)

Many attempts were made to discourage or disperse the prophets, but they persisted. Squabbles broke out when the Ataman Theocracy attempted to reclaim Sol System as its own—even though the system had been abandoned centuries before as an uneconomic prospect. Tempers flared; the Movement countered every attempt to take the system away from them. Eventually an alliance was formed between the Commonwealth of Empires, the Dominion, and the Ataman Theocracy—the three largest Pristine nations in the Movement’s range—to wipe out the threat once and for all.

The largest joint military flotilla ever assembled by the three nations was dispatched to Sol System. There, they surrounded the main base of the Sol Apotheosis Movement and presented its members with an ultimatum: leave or be destroyed. The Movement refused to leave, so the leader of the combined Pristine forces ordered his ships to open fire.

Within seconds of the first shot, the main base of the Sol Apotheosis Movement self-destructed, taking with it ninety percent of the Pristine flotilla. The Sol Apotheosis Movement was utterly destroyed.

The name of the man who gave the order to fire was Adoni Cane. His fate was not recorded, but Roche could only assume that he had died along with the millions of others in the system.

Details beyond that point were particularly scarce. The Pristine alliance, although nominal victors of that bloody conflict, chose to erase the entire event from their various histories. Exactly why the Movement had chosen to commit suicide in such a dramatic manner was not explained convincingly anywhere that Roche could find. No one had postulated the theory that they might have considered long-term revenge.

Until now...

A lone Human with no memories apart from the name Adoni Cane had been recovered from a life-support capsule in a backwater region of the Commonwealth of Empires. In the time Roche had known him he had demonstrated extraordinary feats of endurance, intelligence, and strength. Plus he bore an uncanny likeness to the man who had shared his name two and a half thousand years ago. At roughly the same time, another such castaway, name unknown, had been recovered near Palasian System. Within days, the system had been in flames, and now appeared to have disappeared entirely. The Sol Apotheosis Movement, it seemed, was back. Why, though, was anyone’s guess.

As far as finding out exactly how advanced the Movement had been, there were few indicators. With regard to genetic technology at least, they’d had no peer. The few researchers who had studied the history of the Movement all concluded that the COE was behind them in many ways, despite the intervening millennia. Any doubts Roche herself might have had regarding that claim were easily dispelled by the existence of the Adoni Cane she knew. No other mundane civilization in the history of the galaxy, to her knowledge, had the ability to craft such a superbly capable Human purely by manipulating genetic code. Only High Humans might possess that knowledge, and they had no reason to meddle in affairs beneath them.

In other areas, however, less was known. The destruction of the Movement’s base in Sol System had been accomplished by means of an enormous explosion, the likes of which had never been seen before or since. The weapons systems employed by the earlier versions of the Wunderkind had also outstripped anything available at the time. And their defensive abilities must have been remarkable, to have held off frequent attacks for so long before their eventual self-destruction.

But did they have enough technological know-how to destroy or to hide an entire system? Roche might have accepted the possibility had the Sol Wunderkind that invaded Palasian System been discovered in a fully functional warship. With such a vessel, he might have been capable of anything. But he hadn’t been in a warship. He had been removed from a life-support capsule similar—if not identical—to the one in which Cane had been found.

She skimmed through the data collected by the medical officers aboard the
Midnight.
Cane’s capsule had been unique in that he had actually been grown from a zygote within it, but otherwise it had been empty. Its empty shell contained no obvious navigation or propulsion systems; the only life-support provided was the hibernation regulator that had kept Cane in stasis during the months until his discovery; only the most basic of AIs kept the whole system operating. If every capsule was the same, then the Sol clone warrior in Palasian System had woken up naked and unarmed, not better-equipped than most small armies.

Since then, however, he had somehow managed to commandeer at least one COE Armada vessel and attack no fewer than five semipermanent COE installations. And now he had effectively disappeared, taking the entire system with him.

So little was known about him—what his intentions were, how capable he was of fulfilling them, and exactly what he had done in the few weeks since his awakening. Even if Roche found Palasian System, there was no guarantee the clone warrior would even be there anymore. He could be light-years away, wreaking havoc on other outposts.

Then a new thought struck her. The clone warrior had awakened unarmed, but had immediately taken control of the nearest ship. Perhaps he had performed a similar feat in Palasian System as a whole. Given the right knowledge, he could have made his own equipment from the resources scattered across the system—if the right resources were present.

She checked the COE database. Palasian System contained a small Armada refueling base, one communications outpost, one town-sized colony, and a scattered handful of scientific installations, two of which were devoted to studying solar flares and xenoarchaeology. That was all, on eight planets and a large assortment of smaller satellites. Nothing stood out as possessing the sort of equipment the fugitive would have required to build a device capable of hiding an entire system. Of course, not knowing
how
the device worked made it hard to guess what was required to build it, and even more difficult to work out how to counteract its effect.

Before Roche could take her exploration of the files any further, the ship shuddered violently. She looked up in alarm as the bulkheads around her rattled.

she asked via her implants, letting her spoon fall into what remained of her breakfast.

replied the AI.

The Box sounded mildly offended.

said the Box.

Roche stood and put her plate into a disposal hatch.

The Box said nothing more, perhaps sensing the renewed determination Roche felt—partly a result of the food, partly the refocusing of her attention on the goals they all shared. For the first time in the hours since her rude awakening, she actually felt alert.

When she reached the bridge, Cane occupied exactly the same position he had earlier, watching the expanse of the big screen with his arms folded.

Maii sat not far from him. A strip of white cloth covered her empty sockets, matching the loose shift she wore in preference to Dato Bloc shipsuits. Roche automatically sent a smile her way, and when she saw the Surin return it knew that the ritually blinded girl was using Cane’s eyes for visual input. The only other person available to read was Roche herself—but that would have rendered the smile invisible to the epsense adept.

Aloud, Roche asked: “Any news, Maii?”

She grunted acknowledgment of the fact to herself, then added: “What if the system was camouflaged? Would it be possible for the Sol Wunderkind to block epsense as well?”

Cane looked up. “The whole system?” he said. “Highly unlikely.”

“But it
is
a possibility.” She turned to face him. “A remote one, I’ll admit—”

“What I meant was,” Cane interrupted her, “if the system
is
camouflaged, then I doubt my sibling is responsible.”

My sibling
... The words made Roche’s skin crawl. Sometimes it was hard to accept that Cane and the Sol Wunderkind that had effectively destroyed Palasian System were of the same breed—possibly even identical in every respect.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because, tactically speaking, it makes no sense to be confined to a single system. If I were in his shoes, I would want to move on, taking with me only the resources needed to make my task easier at my next destination.” Cane’s shoulders lifted in a smooth and easy shrug, as though he were discussing a poor tactic in a barroom game, not the destruction of a whole system. “Also, to hide in such a manner would be tantamount to admitting defeat. Camouflaged or not, it’s only a matter of time before the system is found—if not by us, then by someone else.”

Roche nodded. “It could be a decoy, then. Something to keep us occupied while he slips away.”

“A lot of effort for little reward. However he did it,
if
he did it, it must have been enormously energy-expensive.”

“Maybe. But what if—”

Box’s soft, controlled voice cut across her own: “There’s really no point even trying to guess until we have more data, Morgan.”

“Okay, okay.” Roche raised her arms in mock defeat. Sitting in her chair, she faced the main screen to check the status of the ship: it was about to emerge from the short slow-jump that had begun so awkwardly. Maybe when Haid appeared, they could discuss the situation in more detail.

said Maii, continuing the conversation Cane had interrupted,

Roche nodded, absorbing that fact without comment.

“Emerging from hyperspace in fifteen seconds,” said Kajic, his voice issuing from the base of the holographic projector. Now that he had no crew to impress, he only occasionally bothered to manifest in physical form.

The ship groaned back into reality as noisily as it had left. Roche held onto the edge of her seat as the floor writhed beneath her, seeming to melt for an instant as space transformed. Somewhere nearby, something clattered. When the ship stabilized, she forced her muscles to relax, then looked around.

“Someone warn me next time,” said Haid from the entrance to the bridge. He held a tray in his new hand and, bending, used his other hand to pick up packages of food that had spilled during the disturbance.

“Klaxons sound automatically prior to every translation,” said the Box.

“Yeah, but who listens to them?” Haid finished piling the meal back onto the tray. “I thought this ship could handle anything.”

“Not quite,” said Kajic. “But close enough.”

Haid’s face lost some of its good humor at the sound of the ex-Dato Bloc captain’s voice.

“Yeah, well,” he said, taking a seat at an empty station. “When the Box summoned me, I thought I’d bring breakfast up here. Hope that’s okay.”

Roche frowned, puzzled. She hadn’t asked the Box to summon anyone. “Box? What’s going on?”

“I have an announcement to make,” the AI said. “The preliminary survey is now complete and, although much of the data remains to be processed, I have one confirmed observation to report. In accordance with your wishes, Morgan, I summoned Haid to ensure that the entire crew was present to hear it.”

Roche didn’t respond immediately. The Box wasn’t normally so considerate of her wishes. It smacked of overcompensation, as though it was courting disapproval elsewhere.

“Continue,” she said after a moment. If it
was
planning something, then she would have to wait until later to find out what it was.

The Box complied, calling up a number of complicated diagrams on the main screen. “At the heart of the region formerly occupied by Palasian System lies a radiant point-source.”

“A singularity?” Roche broke in. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that the system had been sucked into a black hole.

“No,” said the Box. “The point-source appears to have zero mass and is radiant predominantly in the upper infrared spectrum. I have detected what may be a cloud of primordial gas surrounding the point-source, but will have to make more observations before confirming that suspicion.”

“How close are we?” asked Haid, clearly as disturbed by the thought of a black hole nearby as Roche was, despite the Box’s assurance of their safety.

“Twelve billion kilometers.” The map on the screen highlighted points as the Box spoke. “The next slow-jump will halve that distance.”

“Is that a good idea?” asked Roche.

“All available evidence indicates that the risk of undertaking such a maneuver would be small.”

“The risk for whom?” said Roche. “Yourself or all of us?”

The Box hesitated before snapping: “Both, of course.”

Roche smiled at the Box’s apparent indignation. “Okay,” she said. “Then I can’t see why we shouldn’t do it. As soon as you’re ready—”

Soft but clear, Maii’s words touched Roche’s thoughts—as, she assumed, they touched everyone else’s simultaneously.

Roche looked across the bridge, the discussion of the point-source instantly shelved. The Surin’s face was blank, indicating intense concentration, as it had been since the end of the last jump.

“What is it?” Roche asked, leaning closer.

The girl frowned.

“Describe it,” Roche prodded.

Confusion deepened Maii’s frown.

“Are you picking up any
thoughts
?” Roche pressed.

“Could it be an AI, then, or hidden by a very effective shield?”