Second Don: Ardulum, Book 2 Read online

  There is a landing pad on the roof of this building. The royal transport is usually there for the Eld. It would be our fastest way off-world, if you think you want to try going up instead of down where we might be able to walk to a spaceport. Ekimet paused at the door, checking zir connection to the Mmnnuggls. It was still strong, but once they were out of sight, zie wasn’t sure what would happen.

  Sounds good. Lead on.

  Just remember to walk with purpose. We’re Keft. We belong here. Their embassy suites are on the same floor as ours. Nothing about this is strange. Miketh straightened her back and shoved her hands into her pockets. Ekimet followed suit. The two walked at a leisurely pace down the corridor and had to hunch over as they ascended the ramp to the next level. None of the other floors were designed for bipeds, and Ekimet wondered if the Eld themselves had to hunch to get to their spaceships, or if they were perhaps loaded through the window in the room.

  Everyone must still be dispersing from the rally, Miketh muttered as they continued to ascend. She turned back to Ekimet. Do you still have a hold on the group?

  Yes, but not as much as I did. Another level and it will be gone. We have five more levels before we reach the roof.

  Miketh quickened her pace. Let’s hope they’re young enough to try to pursue us themselves, instead of contacting the authorities. I don’t think we could realistically take on an entire squad.

  Not with a splinter slingshot, anyway, Ekimet retorted. Not wanting to cause ill will, zie patted Miketh on the shoulder. Neat idea though.

  You work with what you’ve got.

  The two rounded the crest of another floor and Ekimet stopped. I’ve lost them. I suggest we run.

  Miketh nodded in agreement and grabbed Ekimet’s hand. Together they bolted up the winding ramp, Ekimet paying close attention to every interface they passed to see if a green light had lit to indicate a priority communication.

  They finally reached the top floor and paused for breath. Ekimet gave a gentle push to the roof door and was pleased when it swung open.

  Miketh pulled the band and an andal shard from her pocket and slowly moved onto the roof. Ekimet was about to follow when a flash of green caught zir eye. Zie turned towards the light, only to glance back at the sight of round bodies tumbling, silently, to the ground. Ekimet wanted to confirm the Mmnnuggls were incapacitated, but rapidly scrolling text had appeared on the panel beside zir. Ekimet scanned the text, confirming zir suspicion.

  We have a problem, Ekimet sent.

  There’s a ship—now without guards—so I don’t think we have too much of a problem. It is definitely the royal skiff too, the reinforced one, and no one ever bothered to lock it, because who would steal the Eld’s personal skiff? Miketh sent Ekimet her view of the ship’s cockpit, which she was already sitting in. I’m interfaced and ready. If you get onboard, we can go.

  Hold on. Ekimet read until the text ended and restarted from the beginning. Hoping zie had caught it all, Ekimet ran to the ship and shut the boarding ramp door.

  I’m ready, zie said. You need to take us back to Ardulum the fastest way possible. Ekimet strapped into one of the large, cushioned Eld chairs just outside the cockpit and watched the view change as Miketh left the roof. She ignored the warning hails that flashed across the communications relay as startled Mmnnuggl pilots, patrolling the ground, realized something was wrong.

  The stellar skiff left Ggllot’s atmosphere. Ekimet watched the computer readouts. Two of the smaller Mmnnuggl pods had rallied to pursue them. They were lucky none of the larger ones had, but with so many individuals in attendance at the demonstration, it was no wonder more pilots hadn’t joined the chase.

  They don’t react very quickly to surprises, Miketh said, amused. She set the generator and then reached over and patted Ekimet on the thigh. Relax. Neither of us can use the weapons, but this ship has excellent armor plating. Even with their tech, we have a head start. They can’t hurt us enough to matter.

  Ekimet pointed to one of zir ears with a dour expression.

  You know what I meant, Miketh returned. The skiff jostled and several small indicators lit up on the panel in front of Miketh. She pointed at them and grinned. See? They’re trying their best, but we’ll be far enough from Ggllot to use the hyperdrive in another minute.

  Ekimet counted another seven small shudders before the telltale stillness of the generator took over. The Mmnnuggl ships faded from view.

  Miketh reclined in her chair and closed her eyes. Just going to relax for a few moments until we arrive.

  Ekimet shook her shoulder. Don’t. I know why the Eld never sent anyone for us, zie said as the familiar constellations of the Ardulan sky slid onto the viewscreen. It was on the comm panel back on Ggllot. The planet just declared war on Ardulum. They’ve got a dozen worlds with them, most of them the outlying systems that we haven’t interacted with in decades, systems that probably didn’t even realize that Ardulum was running the Alliance.

  Ekimet could feel Miketh’s displeasure at the word “war.” Sounds like the most uncivilized of species then, she spat. What do they hope to accomplish? We’re technologically superior in every way. War would only end in their own total destruction.

  Funny, Ekimet said, pushing back into the soft chair and closing zir eyes. Because it’s our total destruction that they’re after. And Miketh…they were talking about a flare.

  So? Miketh turned around to look directly at Ekimet. I just put in a call to the Eld, and we’ve already been granted an audience. We should be landing in about five minutes on the pad near the palace. I’m sure they’ll care about the Mmnnuggl rebellion, but why should they care about a defective Ardulan?

  How much could zie share? Certainly the information in the Mmnnuggl communication wasn’t privileged. Miketh could draw her own conclusions. The communication said this flare was trained. That she is a remainder of the Risalian Experiments. She is the one who ended the Crippling War in the Systems and dismantled the Mmnnuggl fleets. They seem to think she is more powerful than the Eld. They think she can destroy our whole planet, Miketh. That was bordering on hyperbole, but the Mmnnuggls did love big writing.

  Miketh turned back to the viewscreen and watched the andal treetops come into view. The ship slowed its descent and rotated to port, aligning with the landing pad that was still too far away to see. Do they control her? she asked, considering. Is she somehow their prisoner?

  They said they were going to recover her, whatever that means. They’d never manage it. The Eld would wipe out the entire species before they’d let the flare be controlled by the Mmnnuggls. If that was the Mmnnuggls’ plan, Ekimet doubted the conflict would last half a year.

  Miketh nodded. The ship trembled as it made contact with the ground, and Ekimet felt the gentle hum of the engine subside. Well, she said as she stood and pushed the door open. The wet, green smell of the forest rushed into the ship, and Miketh inhaled deeply. I’m sure the Eld will know what to do. Let’s go see them.

  Chapter 13: Xinar Hub, Xinar System

  The Eld have called for the next relocation. Transfer all remaining flares to the Thannon Facility and finish any hanging research.

  —Communication from the Office of Eld Conveyance to all abnormality research facilities, Third Month of Arath, 26_15

  FLUTTERING SILENCE HUNG in the cockpit.

  Neek had heard Emn’s wordless call, hadn’t asked questions when Emn had taken her hand and pulled her through the crowds of people back to the Scarlet Lucidity. They’d stayed quiet through ship traffic, Neek unable to enjoy the ease with which the Lucidity dodged cluttered spacelanes. Now that they were in open space, drifting between systems, she could only stare at the text on the viewscreen, reading and rereading words from gods she’d sworn didn’t exist. Couldn’t exist.

  She’d been wrong.

  Ardulum. Neek screamed it in her head. The word reverberated, echoed from Emn’s mind and crashed back into Neek’s, deafening despite the aural silence. Ardulum. We found Ar
dulum.

  A patchwork of images began to form behind Neek’s eyes as she lost what small grip she had over their telepathic connection. There was Emn’s mother—wild-eyed with matted, red hair, smiling in her mesh cage. Next to that image was one of a crimson settee, a gold and green robe laid across the bow. Then came an image of Neek’s uncle—the high priest of her homeworld—and then Risalians, one face rising above the others. Captain Ran, pulling Emn off the Pledge. Captain Ran, taking Emn from the Neek homeworld. Captain Ran, crumpled and crispy, yellow tunic charred to brown inside the scorched hull of a Risalian cutter.

  Neek focused, brought her eyes to a green pair that was already looking at her. She let her mind slip into Emn’s and found an image of herself—hair loose from its braid and floating in a halo around her face. A baggy flight suit tucked sloppily into mid-calf utility boots. She looked unkempt, shocked, lost…

  “Can you read the message to us?” Nicholas chanced. “Or can the computer do a Common translation?”

  The message had come through in the Keft language, with only the correspondent’s name written in Common. The Lucidity’s computer had translated it into Neek. She’d forgotten no one could read it except for her, and she didn’t trust herself to read it out loud. With shaking hands, Neek pulled a rolled-up tablet from her pants pocket. She glanced up at the screen a few times as she typed, her fingers sliding over the film and slipping with every few taps. It was Emn’s hand on her arm that finally steadied Neek’s typing. Eventually, Neek handed the stuk-covered film to Nicholas, who read it aloud.

  FROM: ELD TRIARCHY, ARDULUM

  TO: ALL ALLIANCE CITIZENS

  THE ELD HAVE VOTED TO SUSPEND DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS WITH THE MMNNUGGL PEOPLE. EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY, ALL AID, INTERNSHIPS, AND OPERATIONS WILL CEASE. DEPLOYED ARDULANS SHOULD RETURN TO THE BELOW COORDINATES FOR DEBRIEFING AND REASSIGNMENT.

  “Nice of them to provide coordinates.” Nicholas bit his lower lip as his eyes narrowed. Neek took a step back. Yorden had used that same facial expression. Watching it on Nicholas, now, dredged up more memories. Neek’s mind spiraled. It was the look Yorden had given her the first time they’d met, in the alley behind a bar on Mars. She was broke. Drunk. He’d beaten her in her final round of blackjack, taking the last of her diamonds. She’d screamed at him and thrown a mashed wad of perf at his head. Yorden hadn’t ducked. Instead, he’d hired her, given her a job piloting a Terran tramp so old it was damn near impossible to fly. No one could fly it, in fact, after his last round of upgrades. No one except her. It was the look he’d had when they’d found Emn’s chrysalis on the burned Risalian cutter, when the theology of the Neek people had fallen down around her.

  Damn Yorden for not being here to see this. They needed a captain—a real one. What the hell were they going to do?

  “Neek.” Nicholas’s hand landed on her shoulder. She looked at him, his face once again youthful, the traces of Yorden gone. “Neek, can you ask the computer about the Alliance? I think we need more information.”

  Neek nodded. She sat down on the thick padding of the captain’s chair and queried the computer. It was so hard to focus. She could probably see what Emn was thinking if she made the effort, but there didn’t seem to be any space in her head for someone else’s thoughts.

  “The Alliance is a planetary conglomerate under a solitary rule,” Neek read in a monotone. The words barely registered. “Actual membership changes yearly. Application process is not rigorous. The ruling body—” She swallowed, clinched her eyes shut, and then opened them, rereading the information before saying it out loud. “The ruling body is Ardulum.”

  Emn was next to her, standing so close to the chair that her dress brushed Neek’s arm. Emn’s hand slid over leather and velour, searching, and found Neek’s fingers. Neek’s hand was slippery from stuk, but Emn was not deterred. Neek held tightly, unsure if she could let go.

  “I don’t like how the information is stacking up,” Nicholas said. He shoved his hands into his flight suit pockets. “We’ve got a traveling planet with questionable intentions, a bunch of beach balls that hate the Charted Systems, and now it looks like an actual planet, named Ardulum, is cutting ties with the Nugels.” From a brown bag in the corner of the cockpit, Nicholas pulled out a bilaris fruit and began peeling it. “This shitstorm sounds worse than the one we left.”

  That jogged Neek’s memory. She queried the computer again, inputting the species names from the ships that had been massing near Korin. Xylnqs—full Alliance membership. Astorians—full Alliance membership. Wens—full Alliance membership. They hadn’t left the conflict behind, it seemed. Rather, they’d wandered into the heart of it.

  More information followed, the computer database proving more extensive than Neek had anticipated. This time, she narrated out loud. “The Alliance is made up of twenty-seven distinct planets within fifteen systems, at least four of which Emn named near Korin before we left.”

  That was more than enough. Neek exited the screen. Emn’s grip tightened as apprehension mixed with hesitant anticipation and she asked, “If the Nugels have been kicked from the Alliance, then these other species—”

  “Do you think they’re in league with the Risalians?” Nicholas asked, cutting her off.

  “No.” Emn’s response was curt. “The Risalians worked alone. They might be in discussions now, but their actions were entirely their own in the Crippling War.” Her tone turned bitter. “They valued ‘sentient’ life, remember? They would not have willingly let so many people be slaughtered.”

  Nicholas handed the fruit to Neek, half-peeled. It bobbed across her vision, an abstraction in the face of so much cold information. When she didn’t take it, he lobbed it back towards the bag and then leaned against the console.

  An indignant chirp sounded from Nicholas’s backside.

  “I didn’t touch anything!” Nicholas hopped forward, jittery in the apprehensive atmosphere of the cockpit.

  “It’s fine, Nicholas.” Her words weren’t as soothing as she’d hoped, but Neek couldn’t find any emotion to spare. She released Emn’s hand and turned the viewscreen back on. Neek text scrolled across the bottom.

  “Of course,” she muttered. When Emn questioningly tugged at her mind, Neek continued, louder. “We are being flanked by three Nugel pods. The big ones. They’re not firing, just keeping a constant distance.” She paused and then added, “And they’re towing us with some sort of field. It’s not mechanical. The ship doesn’t know what to do with it.” Neek sat back in her chair, letting the stuffing pillow her head. “I can’t with this right now. Emn, could you disable them? There’s a tactical console on the opposite wall. In the meantime, I’ll set coordinates for halfway to Ardulum in the generator. That should give us some breathing space.”

  You’re not alone in this, Neek. Emn gripped her hand again, squeezed, and then moved to the far chair. The viewscreen switched to space and showed one of the Mmnnuggl pods hovering in front of them, a blue-green beam extending towards the Lucidity.

  Emn rested her right hand on the console and closed her eyes. There was a click in Neek’s mind—Emn’s connection to her still taut—and ship systems leaked across their bond. Neek remembered the vivid details of Emn’s annihilation of the Mmnnuggl forces during the Crippling War, the ease with which the younger woman had disabled Risalian lasers. The memories weren’t helping Neek’s state. At least for a little while, she wanted things to stop being so damn complicated. Needed something simple. A respite, so they could take the time to process the new information. And, she needed to talk to Emn. Really talk to her, not this flitting around business that Nicholas kept ribbing her about. It was time to start dealing with things.

  The corners of Emn’s mouth turned town, and her eyes opened. “I—I can’t do anything,” she stuttered. She turned to Neek, brows furrowed. “I can’t touch the beam. It’s reinforced with biological material that I can’t see. The computer sensors say its xylan. I don’t know what that is.”

  “It�
��s a type of hemicellulose,” Nicholas offered. He stood upright and walked to Emn. “Comes from xylose—another wood sugar—but it’s old tech. The speed it gives is substandard at best.”

  Emn shook her head. “That isn’t an old ship. You can see the sheen of the new reflective coating from here. The computer lists the xylan interweave at eighty percent. That’s too high for old tech.”

  “It’d be stupid to make a new ship with xylan though.” Nicholas crossed his arms, his tone agitated. “Nugels are smarter than that. Come on.”

  Neek exhaled slowly. The gravity of the words spinning through the cockpit weighed her down. Xylan made a lot of sense, if you looked at the context of the situation. It made terrifying sense.

  “Emn,” Neek said in a low tone. “Would you please fire our ship laser directly at their tractor beam?”

  Emn’s eyebrow rose, but she turned back to the console. Purple light shot from the Lucidity towards the pod in front of them. It connected, but, after a pause, their laser beam broke apart.

  “That…they didn’t even try to evade, Captain. I don’t understand what is going on. They’re not powering weapons, either.”

  “Target another one. Any one. This time, aim for their engines.”

  “Neek, what are you getting at?” Nicholas asked. Neek held her hands up, hoping to forestall more questions.

  “They raised shields in that area.” Frustration leaked from Emn. “The shot was deflected, and even when I cascade a breakage in the disordered areas of the cellulose in our beam, it doesn’t affect the xylan.”

  “Try navigation. Hell, try any of their systems. See what you can hit.”

  Another pause before Emn shook her head. “Deflected on all counts and…and they’re leaving.” The pod in front of them edged to port and then disappeared entirely from view. Neek moved back to the pilot’s console and tracked the ships through the computer. The pods rejoined formation, coasted for a long minute, and then engaged their generator. A moment later, they were gone.