Charles Gannon - Raising Caine

Brenlor had returned to the bridge, asking about the possibility of changing plans and intercepting the enemy craft in this system. Idrem was at pains to point out that the Arbie ’s tanks were dry and her antimatter reserves low. And since the replenishment of those reserves required full output from all the available fusion plants, the skimmers would have to harvest even more hydrogen than usual. Brenlor had stalked back off the bridge. The ensuing five days had not been pleasant.

Nezdeh pointed at the sensors. “A power spike from the Slaasriithi.”

Idrem nodded. “Without question, they are preparing—”

The radiant energy level peaked asymptotically and then dropped to zero. The green blip disappeared.

Idrem immediately brought the fusion plants on both the Arbitrage and the tug up to full power, leaned over to summon the necessary technicians — fuel processors, flight personnel, bridge staff — to their stations. He stopped when he felt something gentle touch his arm.

Nezdeh’s hand. He looked up from it into her eyes.

“You are a great asset to this House, Idrem Perekmeres.”

“My apologies, but you forget, Nezdeh: I am twice removed from the main geneline. Technically, I am Perekmeres uum .”

“I do not need your correction, Idrem,” she said firmly, but not sternly. “Besides, that distinction is now nonsense. There are so few of our lines left, we must salvage everything we can.” She looked out into space. “In which task you are tireless. Now: get some sleep.”

“I shall. As soon as the second bridge crew reports, I will be returning to my quarters.”

“Your quarters on Lurker , or here on the Arbitrage ?”

Idrem was rarely confused, but this question disoriented him. “Eh…here. Does it matter?”

Her gaze was unblinking. “It does. I shall see you. Very soon.”

She turned and left the bridge, with Idrem speechless at the center of it.

* * *

Brenlor tapped one finger against his bicep as, ten days later, the Arbitrage approached the shift point to their next destination: system GJ 1236. “All systems nominal?”

“Yes, Evolved,” answered Ayana Tagawa, whom they had trained as the second pilot for the Arbitrage . She had good basic skills and very high inherent aptitudes. “Terminal preacceleration energy state has been attained.”

Nezdeh noted the lack of affect in her voice. Brenlor thought she had become the most compliant of all the Aboriginals. Nezdeh wondered if her constrained demeanor and minimal expressions and speech might not indicate the exact opposite.

Brenlor nodded to Ulpreln. “Deactivate the space-normal helm. Tagawa, you are dismissed. Go with the guard.” One of the two dozen Optigene paramilitary clones that they had awakened from cold sleep took a step toward her, waited. She nodded to the Evolved on the bridge and exited with the slow dignity that was her wont.

“Ulpreln, is the shift-drive charged?”

“Completing charge…now.”

“Engage.”

The universe seemed to flutter unpleasantly, as though consciousness threatened to blink off, and every muscle in Nezdeh’s body was preparing to spasm…And then it was over.

“Sensors, confirm destination,” Brenlor ordered.

The Aboriginal crewman glanced at his instruments. “Stellar type: M3 dwarf, main sequence. Emission bands match target star precisely. Stellar field parallax assessment confirms we are in system GJ 1236.”

“Position?”

“Two hundred sixty-two light-seconds from the primary, absolute bearing of 167 by 14.”

“Position of nearest planet and target planet?”

“Nearest planet: small gas giant, absolute bearing 187 by 3, two hundred ninety-three light-seconds from the primary…”

So a bit behind us on the port quarter—

“…Target planet: absolute bearing 84 by 2, ninety-nine light-seconds from the primary.”

Brenlor turned to Ulpreln. “Plot course for the gas giant. Second sensor operator: contact report.”

“No proximal contacts. Several structures in orbit around the target planet. Two, possibly three, sensors in orbit around the gas giant. Very small. Unpowered.”

“Time to refuel?”

“Five days, presuming typical meteorological patterns.”

Brenlor turned from the forward view ports, drew closer to Nezdeh. “You have confidence in Idrem’s estimate?”

“That we may be able to refuel before the Slaasriithi arrive? Yes. Their shorter range compelled them to shift to another system — GJ 1232—before they were able to continue on to this one. But remember Idrem’s caveat: GJ 1232 is reserved for Slaasriithi use. It is unlikely but possible that they have a fuel depot here.”

“And so, they could be here in half the time we expect,” Brenlor concluded sourly. He moved to the hatchway and ducked under the coaming as if dodging the possibility that, once again, his quarry might unwittingly frustrate his plans.

* * *

Except the Slaasriithi arrived in much less time, Nezdeh thought forty hours later, recalling and amending her prior cautionary caveat.

Idrem was on hand, having heard the news of the Slaasriithi’s appearance near the other gas giant halfway across the system. And, she realized with a start, her gaze kept returning to Idrem’s broad back.

She wrenched her eyes away. Tender sentiments were vulnerabilities, even among those who had become intimate. Many of the Progenitors had authored axioms warning against them, and she had always heeded them. But now —

When Brenlor entered the bridge, the Aboriginals and Evolveds all straightened in unison. He looked directly at Idrem. “Do we have a reasonable chance of making a stealthy approach to the target?”

Idrem shook his head. “Even if we court the shadows of the other planets and the primary, and coast on battery power when we are not concealed, we will not reach them unobserved before they commence preacceleration.”

Brenlor stalked to the front view ports. He was silent for several moments, looking toward the primary. “Apparently they had access to a fuel depot at GJ 1232.”

Nezdeh was surprised by how calm he sounded. “Almost certainly.”

Brenlor nodded. “Can we continue our own refueling?”

“Slowly,” answered Idrem, “and only when this gas giant is between us and them.”

“So, when we have finished refueling, they will still require four to five days of further preacceleration, correct?”

“Correct.”

“And from that same moment, we too require approximately four and a half days of preacceleration also, yes?”

Idrem nodded. “Yes. So we could be shifting within hours of each other.”

Brenlor actually smiled. “Very suspenseful.” His smile widened. “I like that.”

* * *

Nezdeh glanced at the mission clock located between the two forward view ports: the Arbitrage was in the last thirty seconds of the countdown to her own transit to the system Aboriginals labeled GJ 1248.

As the bridge crew finished calling out the readiness marks, Brenlor leaned forward eagerly: “Engage!” Nezdeh’s stomach sunk as the world shimmered at the edge of annihilation and then, just as speedily, reasserted — but with a new starfield peering in at them through the view ports. “Sensors, report: proximal contacts?”

A tense second before the Aboriginal reported. “No proximal contacts.”

“Expand passive scan footprint. Report all contacts. Ulpreln, shift accuracy?”

“Within eighteen light-seconds of the target gas giant, Brenlor. We are behind it, but are situated to rise into clear line-of-sight for observation of the main planet in orbit one.”