Time Past (51 page)

“I am foremost among Invidi. You know of our K’Cher war.” He didn’t wait for acknowledgment. “We also know Tor in that path. How do you think,” more conversational now, “we defeat the Q’Chn? They are soldiers for K’Cher then.”

I stood very still. The thud of my heartbeat drowned the irregular purr of
Farseer
’s engines.

“Interested?” Serat swung his tentacles almost carelessly. “Invidi are the only ones who defeat Q’Chn. Not all Invidi. I, Serat, defeat the Q’Chn for other Invidi because I, Serat, understand Tor.”

We’d always wondered how the Invidi won against the Q’Chn. If Serat was telling the truth and he used Tor technology to defeat them,
Farseer
could be a valuable weapon in our present fight against the Q’Chn. If we could control it.

“You ask me to leave,” he said. “How will you defeat your enemy?”

“We’ll manage.” As I spoke, I reached out casually to the console. Someone’s got to turn this ship off.

An Serat swished one tentacle and his entire suited form glowed. The air crackled with fluorescent flickers between us.

Shit, here it comes. I crouched in futile reaction against the console.

Serat’s tentacle slapped down beside me and I twitched uncontrollably as a slight shock ran through the surface. But it was nothing like the time he attacked me in the core.

Serat stood swaying. His tentacle, which was outstretched and fixed against the console, gradually lost tension and slid off. The patina of his suit was dull, fading; something I’d never seen before. It reminded me of what had happened to some of the Seouras in the gray ships— Murdoch and I had found their bodies, life sucked out of them until they were fossilized husks.

I started forward, horrified, then stopped before my outstretched hand touched his graying suit. I couldn’t leave him like this. But before I tried to “disconnect” him from
Farseer,
I’d have to power down the engines, reinitialize the dock controls. Disconnect from Jocasta’s core...

“I’ll get you out.” I turned to the console. It could have as easily been me caught in the trap. Serat probably wouldn’t get me out if our positions were reversed, but that didn’t matter.

The controls didn’t want to cooperate. Patterns of triangles shifted, formed mazes under my gloves. The simple shutdown sequence became impossibly intricate. On the edge of hearing something seemed to mock me. The same tone that Serat had used.

“Dammit,” I said aloud. “
Farseer,
where are you?” Surely the original Invidi elements remained and could beat the Tor, as the Invidi beat the Tor in their long war.

An Serat didn’t move. No tremor shook his suit or tentacles. He might be fighting the ship within his mind, but he couldn’t help me.

I pulled off one glove slowly and hitched back the too-long sleeve. I’d have to place my hand on the console, as I did when I first entered the cabin with Murdoch in Sydney. But Murdoch wasn’t here to revive me if I lost consciousness this time. It took a moment before I could breathe calmly enough to lay my hand on the controls.

The cold was so unexpected that I gasped in shock. Then again as prickles studded my fingertips and ran along my palm. Lines of pain ran up my arm and I blinked uncontrollably. Felt myself jerk away from the console. The ship had merely tasted me, licked the surface of my mind, but I felt its need to absorb, to take over, to conquer, to turn all others into itself.

I tried to swallow but my throat stuck, dry and sore. How much would the Seouras implant help me? Or was I mistaken and would it provide an opening for the ship to do to me whatever it had done to Serat? I didn’t want to end up a gray husk.

I replaced my hand and tried to reach the part of
Farseer
that I could recognize as Invidi. Remember the feeling of the first time I connected; inquisitive, interested. It wanted company.

The pain eased a little. Enough for me to cut the engines. And now I had to try to cut the connection to Jocasta’s core...

No, said
Farseer.

I screamed and pulled my hand off the console, sinking into a ball of shuddering horror. Oh shit oh shit, what was it? It stimulated all my fear and pain centers at once no no I can’t do it... Not and stay sane.

I took some deep breaths, then stood up unsteadily. We’ll have to strengthen the block from Jocasta’s systems. Or tow the damn thing out with a shuttle and hope the opsys stays up.

You’re going to give up?
said a familiar voice in my mind. Henoit. He felt very close. The ache in my limbs, the trembling eased. Whenever he was close I felt so well.

You don’t often give up.

I shook my head and stepped back from the console, beyond caring that I was reacting to someone who wasn’t there.

“I can’t. I’m not strong enough.”

I am strong.

“You’re dead.”

That does not make me weak.

I held my head with one gloved, one ungloved hand. How can an imaginary voice help me?

Then I reached out with my bare hand to the console. Whether I received help from imaginary voices or not, I was the one who brought
Farseer
from the past and then from
Vengeful.
It was my greed for knowledge as much as An Serat’s that created this whole mess. So it’s my job to stop it.

Once again I reached for the Invidi part of
Farseer.
I thought of all the things the Invidi had done to help humans, how many lives their intervention on Earth had saved. I thought of the way they shared their jump drive technology, even if only among the Four. I remembered the wonder and excitement of my early conversations with An Barik when he first arrived on the station.

Stabs of pain ran up my arm and the unspeakable images that attacked me before grew clearer, but something got in the way. A warmth that covered my whole body. The memory of pleasures such as gentle sunlight on bare skin, the sound of a bird warbling, Henoit’s hand on my thigh, Murdoch’s breath on my cheek...

Farseer
could not touch me while the warmth was there. But I could reach inside it, past the pain and fear, and find the connections with Jocasta. And find glimpses of a world seen through its senses. So strange that later only a few disjointed images would remain: the way a skin that was not mine stretched against vacuum, a blinding bright landscape of stars not born and those long dead, the mysterious chaotic ballet of the very small...

Jocasta as an immense, filigreed life form in its turn supporting other life. A tree was the closest my human experience could come to a metaphor.
Farseer
was attached to the tree with uncountable gray tendrils, and where they touched, the gray spread out into the tree, halting the flow of its sap.

So many connections. I began to pull out the tendrils. One by one. Another, then another...

I grew slower, lost sight of the next tendril. Where did it touch? How long had I been doing this? Blurry. Getting cold. Henoit, don’t you dare leave me here alone...

Enough. He drew back, taking me with him. Not, I hoped vaguely, into eternity yet.

Then I was sinking down against the console, blinking in the light. Had I managed to keep
Farseer
away from the opsys or not? At least I probably bought us some time.

An Serat’s massive shape loomed over me. I looked up at it and groaned. Staggered to my feet, stood behind him, and pushed experimentally. The air buzzed and sizzled around us. Too tired. I should sit down now and take a breather. Not cold anymore. Warm in here. So warm I was panting.

My heart jumped as something urged me to get up.
Move,
said Henoit’s voice. Confused, I scrambled to my feet.

Then it hit me. I was getting short of breath. The ship— I couldn’t call it
Farseer
anymore—was depressurizing the cabin. I fumbled the helmet, nearly dropped it, then pulled it on. A couple of deep breaths and I was lucid again.

Serat, have to get him out. I pushed him again. He moved, but in one piece, like a piece of furniture on wheels. How did he get in through that tiny hatch? I thumped on the side of the cabin with one fist, but nothing happened.

Unwillingly, I laid my palm against the cold surface again. Think of an exit, a big one. It hurt, all over, worse and worse and worse until I couldn’t remember what I was doing... Then I got dizzy. Henoit’s presence trying to overlay the other, unpleasant voice of the ship. The cabin spun and I forgot about the pain as I concentrated all my efforts on staying upright. As I did so, a tall section of the hull gaped open, letting in a diagonal stream of light from Jocasta’s docking bay so yellow it looked solid.

I snatched my hand away from the hull and shoved An Serat with every scrap of strength I had. Not fast enough, he barely moved. Henoit, if you’re going to be useful, you could give me a rush of H’digh strength... But all I had were overstretched human muscles. Quick, before the door shuts.
Push
... Serat rocked forward and out. I nearly fell flat behind him on the deck of the ship but managed to scramble through after him as fast as I could.

An Serat had tipped over on the deck of the landing bay. How to get him to the airlock? I looked at his silver bulk hopelessly, when a movement caught my eye. A Security squad was running from the airlock toward us. The thud of their boots vibrated under my feet.

“Can you carry him out?” I waved at the leader and pointed to the Invidi. The leader gave me a thumbs-up and a male voice echoed acknowledgment in my suit’s earpieces.

The eight of them—Murdoch must have left parts of the rings unpatrolled to get this many—slid an emergency stretcher from the airlock lockers, rolled Serat onto it, and trotted him out of the bay.

I followed more slowly, trying to get my breath. The warmth of Henoit’s presence was gone, and I felt cold and shaky. Thank you, I said inwardly. Hoping, perhaps, for a response, but none came.

The ship’s engine hum had ceased. I might have bought us some time, but we had to get it out now.

“We came into the bay,” explained the leader of the Security squad when I joined them in the corridor. “But we couldn’t get into the ship and it seemed to be powering up to leave, so I got my people back in the airlock.” Sergeant Desai, a squat, powerful man with elegant dark brows, spoke slowly and precisely. His helmet sat on his shoulder, as mine did, but the others kept theirs on.

“Glad you’re here.” I nodded at the Invidi. “He’s too heavy for me.”

Desai nodded solemnly. “I’ve never seen one of them down. Makes you confused when you don’t know if he’s on his face or his back.”

“We should all get down to the rings,” I continued. “If the deck down in Level Eight blows...”

The team were busy fixing maglev lifters onto An Serat’s stretcher.

I tapped my comm link. “Halley to Gamet.”

Gamet here.

“The engine’s off. I tried to cut it loose from the opsys, but I can’t do anything more from inside. See if we can set up an automatic launch. And try to redo the block.”

Understood.

“Bubble, this is Halley. Level Three Dock temporarily secure. Lee, how are the others going?”

The New Council freighter is standing off from the dock now. Although we’re getting confused readings from the sensors up there.

So much for Venner sending a tug to get
Farseer.
She would, as I suspected, leave it to destroy us. “Keep a close eye on it. And
Vengeful
?”

It’s moving in a bit closer, but not much. Looks like they’re waiting to see what the freighter does.

The immediate problem was the Q’Chn onstation. “And Chief Murdoch?”

Last message we had from them was five minutes ago. They said the Q’Chn are being slow, but responding as hoped.
Lee sounded cool as
Farseer
’s new skin.
We mon
itored an armed group heading from the New Council freighter down in the Section Two uplift and Security was standing by, but the uplift kept cutting out on them and in the end they went back to the center.

I imagined the New Council crew panicking at the prospect of being left on the station. Venner had probably sent them to check if the Q’Chn had gone hunting K’Cher in Alpha.

“Good. I’m going down to the rings with Desai’s squad and An Serat. We’re near the Section Two spoke, so we’ll use it.”

Mr. Stone and Constable Guadalupi called in a little while ago. Said they were having trouble in Hill West with people wanting to use the spoke.

Hill West was the area in the lower ring on one side of the Section Two spoke.

“We’ll go right down, then, and give them some backup. Halley out.”

When I looked around to check on the team’s progress with the stretcher, An Serat was upright. The suited Security people were standing a respectful couple of meters back from him, which put them behind and in front of him in the corridor.

His suit was still unnaturally dull and his tentacles hung lifelessly from his lower torso.

I approached cautiously. “An Serat? Are you all right?”

No response. I stepped closer until all I could see was his suit. Close up, it resembled
Farseer
’s original skin— minute indentations in the surface forming patterned trails.

“Can you hear me?” I said louder.

He might have swayed slightly. Or it could have been me.

“What’s wrong?” said Desai behind me.

I stepped back to join him. “Shock, I think. Whatever it is, we need to get him moving. If I walk in front, can a couple of you give him a bit of a nudge from the other side? That way we can get to the crawler and down to the uplift entry.”

But it was too slow this way, and in the end three of Desai’s people grabbed more maglev carriers from the closest locker and half-ran with An Serat down the corridor to the crawler. Nine humans squished into the walls and each other to give the Invidi room, An Serat’s bulk held at a 45-degree angle that made me queasy to look at. Down more corridors on Level Six, the Invidi swaying, and into the uplift at last.

Maneuvering An Serat’s still-unresponsive bulk around to face the other way in the few minutes of micro-g before the ceiling became floor took so much concentration and coordination between us all that nobody had any time to look out the windows for the New Council freighter. I doubt we would have noticed unless the Q’Chn began slashing their way through the uplift casing.