Victory (17 page)

Granger waved a hand dismissively. “It matters to me. How many?”

Vice Imperator Krull hesitated. “Approximately fifty billion.”

The words pierced him to the core. He felt hollow, and distant, like he was observing the situation from above his head.

“But ... how is that possible? Our scans of your vessel reveal only around two hundred thousand life readings. Does your ship carry similar numbers?”

“As the
Harmony
? No. Not by far. We only number fourteen billion here in the House Krull on the
Benevolence
. The life readings you see are accurate, Granger. But most of us are mothers. And our Children are already born, inside us, waiting for us to give them the Exterior Life. I still hold over twenty-two thousand of my Children within me.”

“Twenty-two
thousand
?” breathed Granger, incredulously. “How is that possible?”

“They are embryos, of course, and mostly composed of brain tissue. But even though they lack the rest of their bodies, each is a fully developed individual. A person.”

“And they will all be born later? To the Exterior Life?”

“Some will. Most won't. Most will live the Interior Life for their whole existence. And they are linked to me. They are part of me. I hear their thoughts, their passions, their fears, and their hopes. Each of them has memory, and some are suited to remembering certain things, certain concepts. The majority of mine are suited to remembering communication, diplomacy, and relationships, and so I was chosen as Vice Imperator of my house at the moment of liberation.”

“When was that? When were you liberated?”

“You don’t know?” Her face stretched. Surprise? “This happened two days ago. During the battle over your world. Indira, you called it. One moment, we were thralls of the Valarisi. Then you came. You destroyed the
Harmony
, coming with such speed and destruction that it was ripped into pieces. Some of those pieces broke off and collided with singularities. Those were the first to be liberated, and from them, it spread. And through our meta-space link ... a good translation might be ... the Ligature, the effect spread to us all. Something about what you did saved us all, in spite of the ... unthinkable destruction.”

Finally, Granger understood. The singularities. The Swarm matter. When those doomed Skiohra fell into the singularities, they emerged cleansed from the virus ... somewhere.

Just like Granger.

And, through the meta-space link, the effect spread to their whole race. Yet the Vice Imperator seemed to have no idea of how it actually happened.

Which was good—the fewer people who knew about the effect, the better. If they could keep the Swarm in the dark about their knowledge, it would give them more of a tactical advantage.

But he was still wary. Was this a trick? The Swarm could be feeding her what to say, drawing him in, gaining his trust, waiting for him to lower his guard.

Except ... why? The super dreadnought—the
Benevolence
—out-powered and out-gunned the
Warrior
over a thousand to one. If the Swarm wanted a shot at Granger, they didn’t need subterfuge to get it. Just a scant minute in battle with that monstrosity of a ship would be enough to finish him off.

Unless—he paused, weighing the possibilities—the Swarm wanted something else.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Bridge, ISS Lincoln

Interstellar Space, 2.5 Lightyears From Sirius

“General Norton, we’re at one hour, sir.”

The general paced the bridge of the
ISS Lincoln
, circling the captain’s chair, where the ship’s commander waited for the order that would take them into battle.

“And no word from Granger?”

“None,” the comm officer replied. “No meta-space transmissions. Nothing except the constant background noise of Swarm communication, right at the frequencies and phase patterns you gave to us, sir.”

Norton chuckled.
Ah, Commander Proctor. At least you’re good for something besides being Granger’s lapdog.

He turned back to the Science Station, where Commander Alonso, IDF’s Associate Chief Scientist and Director for Intra-Swarm Communication stood monitoring the progress of his science crew. “Commander, any progress in actually breaking down what they’re saying out there?”

“No, sir. But we’ve definitely built off of Commander Proctor’s work. She was never able to achieve such tight phase discrimination as we have.”

“Overconfidence, Commander Alonso. Overconfidence, arrogance, and hubris. They’re Granger’s callsign. And it’s rubbed off on his XO. If she would simply collaborate with IDF Science more instead of striking out on her own, trying to be the hero, thinking herself special and above the rules, we may have won this war months ago. But she’s just like the Bricklayer. Just like Granger.”

Commander Alonso shrugged. “She
has
given us perfectly good data. A little rough, some of her conclusions are a little hasty, but really, she’s done ... adequate work....”

“And yet, if she had have collaborated with you, she’d be scanning for the backdoor virus frequency on the proper phase configuration. But it’s obvious why she’s not doing that. I don’t believe it’s that she
can’t
, Commander. It’s that she
won’t.
She knows that if she lets that knowledge out, it’ll compromise Granger’s ability to work, because I’ll catch him in the act. Talking with the Swarm. Collaborating. Just like he’s doing now.”

The science chief shuffled uncomfortably. “Well, sir, that is
one
interpretation of the data we’re seeing....”

Norton turned to face him, threateningly. “What other valid interpretation is there? Granger is there, with the Swarm dreadnought. Talking to them, virus to virus. Mind to mind. Sharing our secrets. We clearly see the meta-space signals. What the hell are they doing if not that?”

Silence. Commander Alonso had no answer.

“Exactly.” Norton turned to watch the viewscreen. The camera was panned wide, out toward their fleet. Thousands of troop carriers. Hundreds of thousands of marines. And half of Zingano’s fleet, just in case.
 

And one other thing, floating just beyond the fleet.

None of the vessels were lit, except for a few visible viewports that cast pale, weak light on the hull around them. But even without the light, enough stars were blocked out to make it obvious that this was the largest fleet of ships IDF had ever assembled.

“Give them ten more minutes. If we don’t hear from Granger by then, we’re going in. Relay the orders to Zingano and Colonel Barnard.”

Commander Alonso made one last attempt. “But General, if what you say is true, if you think Granger is being played by the Swarm, or even colluding with them, then he already knows our battle plans. Our secrets. Wouldn’t it be wiser to pull back, regroup, and think this through?”

Norton snorted a harsh, short laugh. “Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t tell Granger all my secrets.” He glowered at the scientist. “Stick to numbers and data, Commander. Leave the tactics to me.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Bridge, ISS Warrior

Interstellar Space, 2.4 Lightyears From Sirius

Granger glanced at the countdown timer. He’d promised General Norton and Admiral Zingano he’d keep the Skiohra talking for at least an hour. Enough time for
Warrior
to take more detailed scans of the dreadnought, compare the readings to the originals and the projections from Norton’s tactical modeling crew, and pass any corrections on to the invasion force when it finally arrived.

Thirty-nine minutes.

And now Granger wasn’t even sure he wanted the invasion force to show up. The entire Skiohra civilization was on those six remaining ships. Could he participate in a genocide of a people that was itself in thrall to the Swarm? Even if it meant deliverance of his own?

Too many questions. “Excuse me for one moment, Vice Imperator.”
 

He signaled to Ensign Prucha to mute, and thumbed the comm open to Proctor in her lab. “Have you been listening in, Shelby?”

“I have. In between assays. Very interesting. Do you believe them?”

“Don’t know. I think you’d better get up here. I want some meta-space scans of the vicinity around their ship.”

“I’ve been scanning. Absolutely silent, as far as I can tell. I’m no meta-space expert, of course, but—”

Granger glanced at the muted image of the Skiohra matriarch on the screen. “I’d still like you up here.”

“On my way.” The comm cut out. And Granger motioned to Prucha, and turned back to Krull. “Vice Imperator, I hope you can appreciate the difficult position I am in. On the one hand, I recognize the dire need we all have to trust each other and work together to defeat the Swarm. The Valarisi. And yet, you must realize that I need evidence that you are not under Swarm control. It would be foolish to put our fate in your hands by taking you at your word so blindly. Normally, a relationship like this would require time. But time is running out.”

Krull held up both palms, revealing three long, delicate fingers and one beefier thumb on each hand. “The same is true for us, Granger. The Valarisi guard knowledge of the other friends very jealously. We know little of the Dolmasi, for instance, only that you’ve been in contact with them. We were there when they became friends and entered the Concordat of Seven, but have not seen them for thousands of years. Similarly, we know little of the Adanasi, the part of your race that has been made friends. We have no idea who among your crew are communing with the Valarisi, or even if you, Granger, are one with them. Through the Ligature I sense that you were once a friend, at least. But now?”

“I assure you, I’m not. But I propose a test, Vice Imperator. We have the ability to detect the presence of Swarm matter in the blood. I assume you have blood?”

“Of course.”

At that moment Proctor walked through the doors. Granger waved her over. “My associate here has developed a test that will reveal whether one is under Swarm control or not. Will you submit to the test? I think just your blood will suffice. At the same time, you can watch us test my blood. Or, if you prefer, we can pass along the method and your scientists can try it themselves.”

Proctors eyes widened almost imperceptibly. It was a huge gamble to tell the Skiohra that they’d figured out how to detect Swarm influence. If the Swarm were playing them, they were giving up one of the few intel advantages they had.

“We accept,” said Vice Imperator Krull. “And seeing the results from your lab will be sufficient, if you’ll permit me to verify them. I will board a shuttle immediately. Shall we meet shuttle to shuttle, or shall I come aboard your ship?”

Granger had no idea what she meant by
verify
, but he nodded his agreement. “Meet me in our shuttle bay as soon as possible—my superiors have given me a deadline that I must adhere to, or there may be unpleasant consequences. We’ll relay coordinates momentarily.” He inclined his head toward Ensign Prucha, who began entering in the shuttle bay coordinates into the comm to send to the Skiohra.

The screen flickered off. Proctor raised her eyebrow. “Risky.”

“I know.”

“But I think they’re telling the truth.”

“Me too.” He motioned toward the doors. “Let’s go.” He glanced over at the deputy XO. “Have Sergeant Washington set up in the shuttle bay. Guards at the doors, and at least twenty more in the hallway beyond. And sharpshooters. But tell him to keep it discreet.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” said Diaz.

As they walked out the doors he called back to the tactical station. “Time, Mr. Diamond?”

“Forty-five minutes, sir.”

“Damn,” he mumbled. “We’re cutting this a little too close.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Shuttle Bay, ISS Warrior

Interstellar Space, 2.4 Lightyears From Sirius

They raced to the shuttle bay, making a quick detour to Proctor’s lab to pick up a few sample vials and a blood draw meta-syringe. When they arrived, the Skiohra shuttle was already passing through the force field holding the air in. Granger noticed three men, including Sergeant Washington, perched up on the second level walkways spanning the perimeter of the room. No weapons were visible, but if they were doing their job they could get set up for a shot within two seconds.

The shuttle landed—it was almost like a miniature version of a Swarm carrier—and as the ramp descended Vice Imperator Krull didn’t even wait for it to lock into place as she quickly descended. She was short, no more than five feet, but walked almost disconcertingly fast for such a small person.
 

The viewscreen hadn’t done her justice. Though lithe and thin, a powerful muscle structure flexed noticeably behind her taut, faintly blue-beige skin. He began to wonder if perhaps Vishgane Kharsa was right. These people didn’t sound like vicious warriors, and they didn’t look it, but watching Krull’s gait and the way she carried herself, he started to suspect that she could be deadly in a close quarters fight.

“Granger.” She outstretched her two hands out above her shoulders and to the side, palms toward the two wall. A greeting. He mirrored the motion back to her. She responded with an unexpected laugh. How interesting—facial expressions, gestures, these all varied, but the laugh seemed to be universal. At least for humans, Dolmasi, and Skiohra. “You honor me by returning my greeting after what you suppose is our custom. But among us, the male reaches forward, not to the side.”

“My apologies,” said Granger, bring his arms forward toward her.

“No need to apologize. No need even to honor our customs. If I knew yours I would participate.”

“A simple handshake is customary,” he said, before pausing, thinking better of it. He remembered what happened the last time he’d shaken hands with an alien he’d just met. Vishgane Kharsa had implanted the false memory of seeing the Swarm homeworld, leading to near disaster.
 

Her hands, still extended to the side, started to quiver. Realizing what she was doing—shaking her hands—he grunted a laugh as well. “No, I mean we clasp each other’s hands. But that can wait. Until we know each other better.”