Dayton raised a brow when he studied Hoshi then took his seat.

  “You were right, Hamilton. There is, I see, a frightful chill.”

  “What was your plan, Dayton? To make the Inventor shiver with frustration while you prepared your attack?”

  “In retrospect, we might have exceeded the necessary in sabotaging the atmospherics. But if we had left you a fully functional station, you never would have noticed incongruities. We would … I think … you see … have destroyed both your ships. Your entire crew.”

  “So, I’m to be grateful.”

  “You live. Be grateful. You betrayed the Chancellory for the life of an indigo, yet no one came after you. Be grateful.”

  “Hmm.” He zeroed in on Dayton’s facial features, noticing a tell-tale object above the right temple, barely exposed against the forest of hair. “I see your amp. I must say, I don’t miss the stream.”

  “It does have a tendency to be intrusive, but it’s also more efficient than gadgets.” He nodded toward Ham’s tablet.

  “I grew up in the stream,” Ham said, “but I nullified it when I set foot on colonial soil. You’d be amazed the peace a man can find.”

  “Peace is not my objective.”

  “You’ve made that extraordinarily clear. Am I to assume you’re connected to your people through the stream?”

  “I am. Does this give you pause?”

  “Not as long as I remain open to my people.” He tapped the bug over his ear. Dayton nodded his permission. “You knew, of course, we’d disable the old speaker system.”

  From the bug, Paul announced: “His shuttle is en route to Scylla.”

  Dayton placed his hands on the table and moved them in circles.

  “There’s little of interest I’d learn from your team at this stage. You live and they live for one reason.”

  “The Splinter. Yes. An object I have come to realize may alter the future of thirty-five billion lives – not including those in the other eight universes.”

  Dayton held his demeanor largely intact, but Ham noticed the slightest twitch in the right brow. Dayton was out of practice.

  “Eight is a very specific number, Hamilton.”

  He doesn’t know about the fragments or the larger threat. Good.

  “I have outstanding intel. You do know of the Interdimensional Folds? The tears between universes?”

  “My only interest is the Splinter.”

  No Chancellor moves directly to the crux unless he’s worried, desperate, or both. Is he a fraud?

  “And we will come to it,” he told Dayton. “After a fashion. I find negotiations are more fruitful when both parties are able to leap over walls of mistrust.”

  “What is your wall?”

  “The one whereby you attacked us without provocation.”

  “We made a choice to protect our interests. We did not know whether you harbored Amayas Knight, but we assumed it likely given your alignment with Exeter Woolsey. You were preparing to leave. It was … I think … you see … a rational, preemptive strike.”

  Ham wrapped his knuckles against the table.

  “Was it? You have wormhole drivers. You could have emerged from the aperture, fired warning shots, and demanded we stay put.”

  “Yes, but we didn’t know your military capabilities.”

  “Two Scramjets? On the ground? Against a battery of particle weapons? No. I think you – or your command staff – wanted to test the accuracy of your deadlock system.”

  Dayton feigned bewilderment, even to look behind and share a smile with his guard. Ham knew all the subtle maneuvers, and this man lacked experience in any of them.

  “Deadlock? I’m not familiar with the term.”

  “You may have a different name, but the principle holds. In the final years, the Guard experimented with deadlock prototypes. Weapons which, when keyed on a target, never relinquished the chase. Capable of system-wide pursuit and inside the Fulcrum. I think,” Ham said, using thumb and forefinger to draw a circle, “you wanted to see if a missile would navigate Y-14 without losing lock on its target. Yes?”

  Dayton did not know how to lie well. He hesitated for two seconds, both of which Ham silently counted off.

  “Not at all. It missed.”

  “Only because Horn cleared the target radius less than a second before impact. The missile did not have a chance to adjust course before it destroyed Ram. Had our ship launched five seconds earlier, the deadlock would have compensated. The strike did not fail.”

  “Fascinating premise. Might we simply agree that our attack could have been handled more tactfully and move on?”

  “Or, Dayton, we can agree the attack was a cowardly assault and hold someone responsible. Just as we have acted in good faith to turn over Exeter Woolsey to your justice, recompense should be made for our losses in life and resource.”

  “You are bold, Hamilton. For a man threatened with oblivion, your insult is poorly timed.”

  Ham grabbed the tablet and swiped across screens.

  “You haven’t refuted my allegation. A favorable end for both parties is incumbent on admission of fault and agreement to recompense.”

  “What? You expect me to hand over a member of my crew?”

  “I doubt you’ll surrender yourself. So, yes.”

  “Absurd request.”

  “Is it? You approach these negotiations as if we are enemy combatants. On the contrary. If we reach acceptable terms, Dayton, I see no reason why we cannot be the closest of allies.”

  “In what context would a crew of pure Chancellors align themselves with a team of mudbricks?”

  Ham had not heard the word mudbricks in years. It was the once-imagined nightmare whereby ethnics from many colonies joined forces against the Chancellory.

  “Is that not the point of the Inventor’s Alliance? A mudbrick of ten worlds and the surviving factions of the old Chancellory?”

  “Unlike you, we will never blend with indigos.”

  “So, your role in the Alliance was exaggerated.”

  “Not at all. We were Amayas Knight’s largest financers. But our goals diverged.”

  “Ah. That would explain the evidence we uncovered.” He studied the portfolio of the Inventor’s creations, which Kara provided. “I have a full list of all the so-called ‘miracles’ he designed for each paying member of the Alliance. Remarkable creations. And none of them for the Chancellors. That ship in orbit was being built for Zwahili Kingdom. Why they need a vessel of such firepower is beyond me, but that discussion can be had another day.”

  Ham paused for an artful beat and finished:

  “You stole Scylla. Either you attacked its assembly dock or hijacked it during a test run.”

  Dayton did not bare teeth as he darkened his tone.

  “First, we’re cowards. And now, we’re thieves. Yet you have the audacity to claim we can be allies. It is … I think … you see … a preposterous strategy.”

  “No. I ask for honesty. If I am to provide you with the shiny thing you want most in the universe, I need you to admit to your sins and provide justice to my people. My mudbricks.”

  Paul announced through the bug: “Shuttle has docked with Scylla. Exeter is onboard. Kara says she’s making progress.”

  We’re close. Faster, Kara. We need to send the package soon.

  Dayton leaned forward and twiddled his fingers.

  “Our crime is surviving years of betrayal at every level of the Chancellory. Our crime is believing Amayas Knight and his promises. We owe you nothing.”

  “Then I might propose you kill Exeter and allow us to watch. Once you are safely ensconced onboard your stolen vessel, you can level this facility and bury your accusers. Then you will leave here with nothing gained. You fly away to no home world of your own, lacking the Splinter you crave only as much as that world, living on a ship designed to fail, and hiding from an army of very angry Zwahilis.”

  The twiddling stopped; his fingers interlocked.

  There you are, asshole. Now you see my game.

  “What do you know about my ship’s design?”

  “It was never finished. It was never handed over to its intended owners. The Inventor never had a chance to repair the flaw he built into its core systems. There will come a time when Scylla will either disintegrate inside a wormhole or turn the particle weapon on itself.”

  “You’re playing me, Hamilton. I will not take your bait.”

  “You already have, and I caught you. I know your goals for your people, and I can help you achieve them. To do so, we must end the standoff, become allies, find Amayas Knight and the secrets he controls. Then we kill him. Afterward, you’ll know the secrets of the Splinter and own the soil of your new home world. Chancellors will end their days as ship-bound nomads. All you have to do is put your bombast and theatrics aside and agree to my terms. You came here for revenge, but you can secure the future.”

  “You are a liar.”

  “Am I?”

  Ham was, of course, a remarkable liar; in his long experience, the truth rarely led to victory. He glanced at the Tachtron reader, waiting for an update.

  Do hurry, Kara. I can’t put off this idiot much longer.

  23

  Scramjet Horn

  C HI-QUA BAEK CRIED AND SCREAMED, but no one heard her desperate pleas. Her lips did not move, no tears drizzled from her eyes. She lay alive inside a concrete tomb, air trickling through her nose imperceptibly. If her heart was beating, she had no sense of it. She failed to muster the tiniest twitch of a finger or a brow. Yet her eyes delivered the world without periphery, others passing her limited window like specters. She heard every word, absorbed their fear and confusion, and waited to die – for it would have been a relief.

  Not long after Horn escaped Artemis in a confused rush, Chi-Qua felt the vague sensation of pressure against her neck and heard their Talon pilot, Hiro Parke, say he was blasting her with Ham’s antidote to the toxin. He said he knew nothing about such medicines, that Horn’s medpod sequencer generated the drug based on Ham’s script, and offered no guarantee for recovery. Though Chi-Qua did not see Yusef Matook, who also took several hits from the so-called pincher drones, she heard Hiro offering his Talon brother a far more optimistic outlook.

  From time to time, her fellow Hokkis broke away from their own bouts of yelling, complaining, and seething to offer Chi-Qua small words of comfort. Though they seemed to believe the mission was a disaster and everyone on Artemis must be dead by now, they popped by Chi-Qua’s upright position in a still-seat to offer the mundane.

  “Can you move yet?” “I’m sure you’ll be better soon.” “It’s all going to work out.” “Let me know if you need anything.”

  Only Po Wynn, the slim-jim who imploded during the rough approach to Y-14, stayed with her for more than a cameo. He passed along whatever updates he gathered from Hiro – the only one onboard qualified to make decisions – and tried to find tidbits of hope.

  “You’re probably worried about Kara,” he said, “but don’t be. She’s strong. I mean, you know her better than me, of course, but she was very good to me when I needed someone to hold my hand. She’ll survive. You’ll see. They all will.”

  His eyes told a different story.

  The worst moment came ten minutes into flight – though Chi-Qua had little concept of time. She heard Hiro break the news: Ram was destroyed on the dock. He’d known since they made a hasty exit using Horn’s combat Worm slip program, but he saw no point in dashing hope that the others also managed to escape.

  Now? Hiro spoke candidly.

  “We’re on our own. We’re holding position a light-year from Y-14. Until Yusef recovers, you’re all I’ve got. No more whining. No more demands. We’re not going back to Hokkaido. We’re going to rescue our team, but we have to know our enemy’s disposition.

  “Now, a confession: My skills with Worm are limited. I am Yusef’s backup. He is stronger with algorithmics and has four times as many flight hours. I can get us there, but I’ll need help in the nav matrix.

  “We will need to slip in, make a fast assessment, and leave. This means we must acquire data before the enemy turns its eye. The problem is the transitional period. After we exit the aperture, the catalyst drivers will require forty-five seconds to reset and spool up the new coordinates. We will be vulnerable. I will have to maintain my full attention on Worm. I need someone to surveille the enemy.”

  Chi-Qua heard the ensuing discussion, much of which involved Hiro seeking someone panic-averse and able to handle nav windows with a deft hand. He eliminated Mosh Koo-Ti, who used a foul mouth to insist on sucker-punching the enemy. He sent Mosh to a still-seat to watch vids about the war across the divide.

  “You have no understanding of military strategy,” Hiro said.

  He dropped Po, who could not guarantee he would avoid freezing up at the key moment. That left him with Muna Fei, who spent the mission telling everyone stories about her treacherous Hokki family. Muna won the role by claiming to have learned data-tracking basics during months on a long-haul science vessel exploring the southern ocean. Chi-Qua doubted the story but couldn’t voice her skepticism.

  A short while later, Po stepped into a still-seat by her side when Hiro announced they were slipping to Y-14. He intended to bring them within six hundred thousand kilometers, close enough to make a full assessment and likely outside the enemy’s weapons range during their window of vulnerability.

  The cabin was quiet after they exited the aperture. Chi-Qua heard mumblings from beneath the nav matrix. They returned to Worm without incident. The continued silence enhanced the terror. The antidote had not taken effect, assuming it ever would.

  The report devastated everyone: A massive ship decimated the planetoid surrounding Artemis. The station remained, but the occupants? For how long?

  Mosh, feeling more aggressive after watching the vids, suggested they exit an aperture on top of the enemy ship and bombard it.

  “You would do this,” Hiro said, “without knowing the ship’s defensive capability? That’s foolish on a good day. If we’re destroyed or rendered inoperable, no one goes home. Not to mention, calculating a jump so precise requires skill I do not have.”

  “I heard you Talons fight to the death,” Mosh replied.

  “Fight? Yes. We do not commit suicide unless all other options have been ruled out.”

  “So what then? We just sit here and wait.”

  “For now. Yes. I will consult Yusef when he recovers. The Talons have protocols for when teams are separated by the enemy. I also suggest we trust the leaders we left behind. They will buy time and prepare a defense.”

  Though a long stretch of silence followed, Chi-Qua feared Hiro might be left with no choice but to attempt a sneak attack or rescue mission. The antidote was taking too long. She felt her heartbeat at last, and her breathing heightened, but the rest of her body remained encased in a steel trap.

  “I want you to know,” Po told her, “I think you’re brave. You could have stayed home. You weren’t Green Sun, and your family wasn’t important enough for anybody to care about. Like ours.” He pointed to Mosh and Muna. “You didn’t have any training, and you never killed anybody. If I knew it was gonna go like this, I guess I would have taken my chances on Huryo. Or maybe the continent. I hope you come back to us, Chi-Qua.”

  He grabbed her hand. It was warm and soothing.

  I feel you. I feel you, Po!

  He too reacted, his eyes softening above a hopeful smile. Po waved to Hiro.

  “Her fingers moved,” he said, sliding over to Yusef in the next still-seat. “Same thing,” he told everyone as Hiro joined the three Hokkis.

  “Progress,” Hiro said with no sense of relief in his tone. “But not fast enough. Let’s hope the recovery accelerates.”

  It did.

  First one arm, then the other. Eyes turning side to side. The tongue pushing through malleable lips.

  The tiny wounds where the pinchers entered soon burned as the antidote expelled the toxin. Within minutes, Chi-Qua and Yusef carried on broken conversations. Chi-Qua did not mind having a face awash in tears – or that she lacked the mobility to wipe them dry.

  Hiro turned the crew into physical therapists, dividing them into partners to massage the patients’ muscles and stretch their limbs until Chi-Qua and Yusef took control. She stepped off the still-seat feeling as if she’d ventured across a desert for days without water. Yusef complained of the same dehydration. They fell back into the comfortable swivels beneath the nav matrix and indulged in water.

  Yusef leaned over and kissed Chi-Qua on the ear. His huge mustache itched, a sensation she never expected to enjoy.

  “What happened was my fault,” he said. “I should have taken point. I should have approached each room as if we were facing a mortal threat. Forgive me, Chi.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. Nobody thought there was a danger. Maybe I needed to be taught a lesson. What you said before about what war is like? Always preparing to die? I’ve never felt so close to death. That feeling might keep me alive.”

  “Being alive is wonderful. Never take a second of it for granted. As for me, I think I’ll be running from pincher drones in my sleep. Nasty fuckers.”

  All six took their seats beneath the nav matrix. Hiro deferred to Yusef, as if handing over command of the ship.

  “You heard the debate while you were recovering,” he said. “We have to weigh the risks of an assault or rescue against following Talon protocols. What do you recommend?”

  Yusef leaned forward and acknowledged each of the Hokki volunteers with an uplifting nod.

  “You remember my speech at dinner? Yes? I gave it on the assumption my brothers and sisters would lead the way in any battle, and you lot would hang far in the rear, waiting for us to clear a path. It appears circumstance has moved you to the front line. Are you prepared to walk at our sides to fight and kill the enemy, if this is what the future requires?”