Nemesis (35 page)

‘Is it possible the drive was just off when we passed it?’ said Mark.

‘Of course it was off!’ said Zoe. ‘But there was still passive emission. That’s my point – the drive was idling so there was enough power going through it for my SAPs to make guesses about how it was supposed to work. And then I compared that to the profile of the arrivals spike when the drive
was
active. And that’s when it hit me. Their arrivals spike was all wrong, just like the warp profiles of those first drones were wrong. There’s no evidence of doorway particle decay. That’s what’s fucked up about it. I missed it the first time because I didn’t even consider it. I assumed something else had to be going on – field compression, maybe, or a pseudo-vacuum regime we don’t know about yet.’

‘Is it possible that your SAP just came back with the wrong answers?’ said Mark.

Zoe waved a dismissive hand. ‘Of course. That was my first assumption, which is why I double-checked. But I can’t find a flaw in its logic, so I’m forced to conclude that we’re looking at a technological advance on the scale of the suntap. Maybe bigger.’

‘Which changes things how?’ he said.

She gave him a weary, imploring expression. ‘The suntap was
bait
,’ she said. ‘Free power handed to the human race with a huge price tag attached – an off-switch for our entire species. Death on the scale of entire stars. Whenever you see a halfwit species using technology they can’t possibly have invented, it’s safe to guess that someone’s in the background pulling the strings. So you have to ask, what’s the cost? Who’s really in charge here and what do they want?’

‘So you’re worried that someone – or something – else is behind the Photurians,’ said Mark.

‘Right,’ said Zoe. ‘And what do they want with the human race? The Transcended have an off-switch for human life, but they appear to have decided not to use it yet. Who says this new bunch are going to be quite so generous? Who says that after Carter there’ll even be an Earth to go back to?’

11.4: ASH

Ash listened from the bridge while Sam wove his next little web of lies, his disgust building steadily. It was painfully obvious that Sam had set up their detour to Carter, with all the extra horror that visit might entail. Sam obviously didn’t give a shit about the lives of anyone on board – or anyone else, for that matter. So why hadn’t he gone further already and killed all his witnesses?

As soon as Ash framed the question to himself, he knew the answer. Had Sam killed the other passengers, Ash’s own loyalty to the League would have snapped. Sam knew that, and Sam still needed someone to pilot the
Gulliver
– it was a ro-ship and Sam couldn’t fly it himself. That, Ash realised, gave him some bargaining power. He relished the notion.

It occurred to him then that Sam probably would have only drugged Mark rather than try to kill him if he’d actually been able to find a suitable compound in Citra’s lab. That would have made him look more compassionate and exposed him to less risk. But he’d been hamstrung by not understanding the limits of Mark’s biology. He’d been improvising, and he was still at it.

So why had Sam chosen Carter? From the little Mark had seen of it, Carter looked like a barely settled shit-hole, of interest only to field-researchers and pioneer-lifestyle types. Because, Ash reasoned, the alternative was New Panama, and Sam couldn’t control anything from there. His movements would be too visible. The fact that Carter was a backwater played directly to Sam’s interests. Sam had lost his chance to convince Mark to head for Snakepit and so had taken the next-best option.

While Zoe rattled on with her Vartian-style paranoia, Ash slid out of his bunk and made his way across to the hatch that led down to the lounge. He waited there until the meeting was over, then, as Sam came up the ladder, Ash grabbed his arm and dragged him to the nearest privacy chamber. Sam shot him a disgusted look but let himself be manhandled. Ash pushed Sam inside and shut the door behind them.

Sam adjusted his sleeve and tsked. Ash no longer gave a shit what his boss thought.

‘You set that up,’ he said. ‘You trashed our fuel on purpose.’

‘Here’s what I did,’ said Sam, stabbing the air in front of Ash’s chest. ‘I followed
your
lead.’

Ash brayed with laughter. ‘And how do you figure that?’

‘You bought into Mark’s plan, so I did, too. I just used it to rescue your ass, that’s all. Tell me, why didn’t you stick to your guns and tell the truth the moment you walked into the bridge? Nobody was stopping you. You could have told him everything.’

Ash coloured. Sam knew why, of course. Because given the chance to save himself without revealing his guilt, he’d grabbed at it. Desperately.

‘Let’s face it,’ said Sam. ‘You’re not exactly arguing from any moral high ground here.’

Ash knew enough by now to understand that Sam was a snake, and that his emotions were being manipulated. Unfortunately, he couldn’t contest Sam’s point.

‘You just put hundreds of thousands of lives at risk,’ he said instead.

‘A problem I’ll solve,’ said Sam. ‘I’ll evacuate them.’

‘Bullshit,’ said Ash. ‘You can’t know that for sure, and what if you can’t? Then we’ve got a massive target-containment problem on our hands. Carter is huge compared to Tiwanaku. If you fuck up just slightly, those Nems could double their intelligence in a week. We already don’t have a clue what they’re doing.’

Sam’s expression grew steadily darker. ‘I’ll
manage
it.’

‘How?’ Ash demanded. ‘By magic?’

‘By killing everyone in the fucking system, if necessary,’ said Sam. ‘You know me well enough by now to believe I’d do it. My overrides give me complete access to their antimatter store and every Fleet drone in the system. Modern infrastructure is delicate. It would take me about fifteen minutes to point something with a warp drive at every population centre on the planet. End of problem.’

Ash reeled. ‘All that just so you don’t have to come clean to Mark? That’s insane. Where’s your perspective?’

‘No,’ Sam snapped. ‘You’re the one with no fucking perspective. Use that modified brain of yours to think through the options for a moment, would you? We either stick to our plan, fucked up though it is, or we fold. I can’t see any other options. Can you? If we stick, we have a major fucking Nem problem, granted, but Earth’s government still
has
to turn over. After the Earth is targeted, power will
have
to go to the Fleet. We win. You live. The war is averted. If we fold, we have the same exact fucking Nem problem, but Fleet credibility is trashed the moment our actions are revealed. You die. I die. And from then on it’s every planet for themselves. That means war. Fuck the Nems. Who needs them? We’ll murder each other. In case you hadn’t noticed, Captain Corrigan, you’re in a card game where the price of sitting at the table keeps going up. But the consequences of winning or losing
don’t change
.’

‘Maybe I don’t like the game any more,’ said Ash.

‘Tough shit,’ said Sam, ‘because quitting is losing. And another thing – if you ever touch me like that again, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?’

Ash rolled his eyes. ‘Please. With your big fists, I bet.’

‘You be careful who you fuck with,’ said Sam, jabbing his finger. ‘There is exactly one person in the universe who can keep you alive longer than a month. Your choices are my mercy or a firing squad. Now get your shit together, because we’ve got a civilisation to save.’

Sam let himself out.

Ash leaned up against the wall and screamed his fury till he was hoarse.

12:
FRONTIERS

12.1: ANN

By the time the
Chiyome
docked at Snakepit Station, Ann had a status update from Nelson waiting for her.

‘Repairs are underway,’ he told her. ‘The hull has been camouflaged using the code you provided. I admit to concern about the notion of a ship this large being hidden at all, particularly given its gravity footprint, but your recommendations have been followed in any case.’

Nelson shouldn’t have worried. Nem-cloaking didn’t exactly hide a ship so much as loudly instruct the Nems not to see it. Presuming the technique still worked, of course. It had been derived from the Nems’ own swarming protocols. Ann trusted in their immutability rather less than she had a week ago.

‘Two final points on Will Monet,’ Nelson added.

Ann’s shoulders tightened.

‘First, do remember that he has a persistent link to his ship whenever it’s in range,’ he said. ‘That’s not something we can deactivate. It’s woven deep into the smart-blood architecture that keeps the
Ariel Two
running. The ship will seek him out wherever he is, and you’ll need to maintain careful shielding if you want to prevent that. I assume you’ve been briefed and taken all reasonable precautions.’

Ann had.

Nelson paused, his patrician face revealing some unexpected vulnerability.

‘Second point: please look after him. He’s dangerous, I know, and more powerful than any of us. But that doesn’t mean he’s not human. He hurts just like everyone else. I fear that we’ve damaged him, bringing him to this point, because he was always more predictable to us when he was angry. I regret that. I’ve lost a good friend for the sake of what I believe. I sincerely hope it was the right choice. If it’s in your power, please don’t make his damage any worse. Do what you can for him. Help him understand. Nelson out.’

The message window closed. Ann shut her eyes and felt dirty. She dearly wished she didn’t have to face down Will again, but getting one of her crew to escort him to the station would have made a coward out of her. So she steeled herself and drifted up out of her couch to fetch Will from the privacy chamber. This time, she was determined to keep her cool.

She took a pellet gun loaded with cartridges of Meleta’s biomaterial. If the camera feeds from the privacy chamber were anything to go by, Will had discovered the coating on the room’s seals. She had to be ready for anything.

The hatch slid back to reveal Will floating at the far end of the space, waiting.

‘What did you put on the walls?’ he said.

He didn’t look angry any more. If anything, Will Monet looked awed.

‘I warned you about our new technology,’ she said.

‘That’s not new,’ said Will. ‘It’s stolen.’

‘The distinction is irrelevant,’ she replied. ‘It’s new to us.’ She didn’t actually believe that for a moment but had no desire to let Will know how she really felt. ‘This way, please,’ she said, gesturing with the gun. ‘I presume you can guess what this pistol fires.’

Will came calmly. ‘You have to stop this,’ he said.

She sighed. ‘I believe we’ve already had this discussion, Captain Monet – you disapprove of our choices. But you still haven’t been fully briefed yet.’

He shook his head. ‘Do you honestly believe there’s a single thing your superiors can tell me that compares to what I’ve already learned in that room?’

They transferred to the docking pod.

‘I imagine you’ve learned that your powers have limits,’ she said.

The pod whisked them away towards the habitat ring, gravity building slowly.

‘Whatever you splashed on the walls in there is scarier than anything I’ve ever seen,’ said Will.

He appeared to have given up trying to score emotional points, her betrayal of him relegated to a side note in his thinking. Ann wasn’t sure whether to be hurt by that or relieved.

‘That stuff is almost as far in advance of our abilities as the Transcended Relic,’ said Will. ‘The fact that it can chew its way through my smart-cells should be proof enough of that. You imagine you’re using whatever’s at this star as a tool in your big game, but it’s the other way around – someone is playing you instead.’

‘We’ll take your opinion into consideration, of course,’ said Ann.

She didn’t like his assessment. The League had long assumed that Snakepit had been left for humanity by the Transcended as a kind of prize to boost their development, just like the suntap and all their other gifts. With a single sentient force apparently weeding out intelligent species in the galaxy on million-year timescales, what room was left for another explanation? Snakepit’s technologies had also proven suspiciously adaptable to human use, only bolstering that theory. However, given what she’d seen at Tiwanaku, a deeper agenda for the alien biosphere suddenly sounded plausible. She adjusted her hold on the wall as her feet settled to the floor.

Will gave her a long, exasperated stare. ‘Honestly,’ he said. ‘What is there left to learn about your organisation that I can’t already guess? You found out about the Fecund sites the sects were hiding and saw the potential for all-out war. You decided to fight them on their own terms and went looking for counter-weapons. Then you found this place, which appeared to be the answer to your prayers. Without worrying too much about the possible consequences, you started using it to reclaim your advantage.’

Ann gritted her teeth. He wasn’t far off.

‘What you all failed to notice in your rush for a solution,’ he said, ‘was that the stupid-looking drones you were deploying were quietly trying to hack you – just like the Transcended hacked me. That’s what they were attempting to do in Tiwanaku, you realise – unpick the protocols of human biology. That kid with the idol in his neck was a failed experiment. So was everything else we saw. Those cells on the walls of your privacy chamber are just the same – they’re
learning
. But here’s the thing. This stuff
isn’t
like Transcended technology. For starters, it’s not obviously benign. There are no clues in it. You’ve found something old that may be very, very bad. If you think it’s just a piece of technology left for you to play with that conveniently pumps out tame munitions, you’re wrong. Dead wrong.’

Ann kept her face a mask of calm while her thoughts accelerated. Something about his assessment made a horrible kind of sense. What if the League’s entire reasoning had been wrong? What if the planet didn’t belong to the Transcended after all? What if this was someone else’s version of the same kind of honeytrap as the lure star?

‘Impossible,’ she said, even as worms of doubt gnawed through her. ‘The Transcended have control over Fecund space. And our best dating on Snakepit shows it being seeded
after
their extinction. It has to be from the Transcended.’

‘Unless someone else sneaked that biosphere in after they stopped paying attention,’ said Will. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, the Transcended don’t get out much. You have no idea who might have been through this patch of space since they retreated in on themselves. We hadn’t even evolved yet. Do you have the first idea what this thing wants?’ Will added as the pod doors slid open. ‘Because I’ll bet you anything it’s not a peaceful future for all mankind.’

Will stepped through into the reception room beyond. The look on his face as the doors shut was one of almost grateful anticipation. Ann didn’t share his composure. In her head, fears were crystallising, and with them a sense of urgency.

12.2: MARK

As the
Gulliver
sputtered into the Carter System on the last of its fuel, Sam hit the comms. Mark routed Sam’s circuit through a silent bypass to listen in. While he still couldn’t see why Sam would lie to them, his concerns refused to let go. He wanted to know exactly what he was getting into.

‘Message Priority Zero Alpha for Defence Minister Keir Vorn. This is Overcaptain Sam Shah currently aboard the IPS
Gulliver
,’ said Sam. He was sitting in his study against a backdrop of the IPSO insignia. ‘Keir, we’re in trouble. The ship I’m on is part of a Fleet mission to investigate a potential alien threat. That mission has gone badly wrong. We’re desperately in need of fuel and require the use of your messenger drones to warn New Panama. The future of your world, our entire organisation and all humanity rests in the balance. Worse still, there’s a risk that we may be bringing some of that trouble to your doorstep. If you agree to help us, my captain and I will gladly share the information we have with you, discreetly and in person. It’s the least we can do. I’m deeply sorry to be the bearer of both demands and bad news, but right now we’re out of options. We need to contain this situation fast. Help us, and I will be constantly in your debt. I look forward to hearing from you.’

Sam’s wording sounded nothing but contrite, urgent and well expressed. Mark couldn’t find anything dubious in the message with the possible exception of the idea that he and Sam would meet with the Carter government face to face. Sam had used no security filtering. And other than the always-opaque Fleet signature codes attached to the message, there was nothing in Sam’s request that Mark couldn’t analyse or understand. Mark found himself questioning his paranoia, embarrassed that he’d been reduced to conspiracy theories.

Sam pinged him when he was finished.

‘It’s sent,’ he said. ‘Let’s hope they stay rational.’

Word from Carter arrived an hour later as their ship caught up with the light-lagged reply. A weathered-looking man with unruly mutton-chops appeared on the video feed. He looked more anxious than upset. Mark considered that a good start.

‘This is Defence Minister Keir Vorn. Welcome, Sam. A berth is ready for you at Fleet Local. Please dock there and we’ll solve your fuel problem. My government would like to accept your offer and meet with you and your captain. As you might imagine, your arrival has caused something of a political riot here. Some personal assurances will help considerably.’

Mark could see where things were headed. Would it be so bad if he and Sam went down to the surface of the planet? But his anxiety refused to settle.

Any minute now, Sam could propose a meeting and events would take on their own momentum. He needed a second opinion before that happened. He pinged Venetia and asked her to meet him in the privacy chamber. If anyone on the ship had retained a sense of perspective, it was her.

Five minutes later, Venetia met him in the tiny faux-panelled room.

‘What’s up?’ she said. ‘Not more trouble, I hope.’

Mark knew he didn’t have much time. He shut the door and came to the point.

‘Sam has set up an expectation that he and I will go down to Carter,’ he said.

‘Is that a problem?’ said Venetia. ‘It sounds like basic courtesy to me. Their whole world is at risk, after all. What were you planning to do – shout at them from orbit?’

‘I know,’ said Mark. ‘But something about Sam feels off to me. That business with the antimatter was weird. And Ash has been angry with him ever since but won’t say why.’

‘Perhaps because he screwed up the mission and risked our lives?’ she replied. ‘Are you sure you’re not letting this situation get to you, Mark? I mean, we’re all a bit edgy right now.’

‘I think it’s more than that,’ he said. ‘I’m worried that this has something to do with the neurotoxin incident.’

‘Ah.’ Her brow creased. ‘I see.’

‘There’s something weird about that whole event. I know Citra hates me, but she’s a
scientist
, for crying out loud. I know she’s not had much to do and she’s furious about Yunus, but the more I think about it, the harder I find it to believe she’d pull that kind of shit. There’s something else going on here.’

Venetia shot him a long look. ‘You think it was Sam?’

‘I don’t know. That whole search of the memory core went on hold the moment the Photurians showed up. I needed the robots. I didn’t get back to it, which is my fault, but as soon as we were headed here, there didn’t seem to be any point.’

Her face took on an expression somewhere between maternal and cunning.

‘Look,’ she said, ‘there’s a simple solution to this. We all go. We keep a close eye on Sam. Together. You could use me down there, anyway. I know that place better than anyone else on this ship.’

‘We can’t,’ said Mark. ‘Someone has to stay up here – Fleet regs demand it.’

‘So maybe we send Ash down with Sam instead, and you stay up here.’

‘I thought about that,’ he said, ‘but frankly, I like it just as little. First, it’s not what Carter’s expecting. But worse, it lets Sam know that we’re on to him, if he is responsible.’

Her gaze became probing. ‘Do you trust Ash?’ she said. ‘You two don’t seem to get along that well.’

Mark looked away. ‘I don’t know. I’ve known him for a long time, but these days he feels like a stranger to me. I guess I’d have to say
yes
, though.’

‘Then take him into your confidence,’ said Venetia. ‘Like you just have with me.’

Mark grimaced. ‘But what if I’m wrong? What if he’s behind the attack?’

‘Then maybe this is how you find out,’ she said. ‘I’ll assume we’re all going down together. I’ll tell Zoe and talk her round if needs be. You talk to Ash. We meet back in the lounge for a meeting in ten. Does that work for you?’

Mark nodded, feeling less comfortable than he let himself admit.

12.3: ASH

At Mark’s request, Ash met him in the ship’s helm-space. Mark’s avatar stood there surrounded by a multicoloured representation of Carter’s sparse in-system traffic. The timing and the tone of the request had struck Ash as a little more formal than usual. The stiff, uncomfortable look on Mark’s avatar reinforced that impression. Their game of mutual avoidance was apparently at an end.

Ash didn’t know how to feel about that. He was sick of following Sam around like a lapdog. On the other hand, he still didn’t feel ready to come clean. Sam had been right that he stood to lose his life the moment he opened his mouth.

‘What is it, Boss?’ said Ash brightly.

Mark looked him straight in the eye. ‘I’ve secured this metaphor,’ he said. ‘I want to talk.’