Flint hurried them through the area and up to the main deck. The stairwell fed into a midship living area of plush sofas and walls ringed with artwork. It carried forward to the cockpit and aft to other sections of the craft, including the reactors.

  “The cockpit doesn’t have space for the whole party,” Flint said. “Aeron, why don’t you come with me? The rest of you can strap in here. There’s a bar over there if you want a drink. Once we’re settled, I’ll have Cena come out to take food orders.”

  “Food orders?” Hayden said, confused.

  “This is a luxury cruiser, hombre,” Flint said. “You think you feed yourself? Heck, I’ve got bots that’ll wipe your tush for you when you crap if that’s what you want. I’m nothing if not a good host.”

  Hayden stared at Flint a moment and then found a seat.

  “Colonel, you’re with us,” Haeri said. “Jason, Nova, Tora, wait here with Hayden.”

  “Yes, sir,” they replied.

  Caleb followed Flint and Haeri to the cockpit. It wasn’t quite as small as Flint described, though there was only one seat in the center of the rounded glass enclosure that shaped the cruiser’s snub-nose. A simple terminal sat in front of the single chair, the controls matching those of a Centurion ship.

  “You can strap into the observation seats there,” Flint said, pointing at two folded seats off to one side of the space. He climbed into the pilot’s seat and tapped on the terminal. “We don’t really need to do anything right now. Cena can handle the complicated stuff.”

  “Do you even know how to fly this thing manually?” Haeri asked.

  “Mostly,” Flint replied with a laugh. “The best part about being wealthy is that you never need to do anything yourself unless you want to.” He reached under the terminal and removed a small wired headband.

  “Is that a CUTS interface?” Caleb asked.

  “You’re familiar?” Flint replied.

  “I’ve used it before. A few times.”

  Flint put the band on top of the terminal and slid out of the seat. “Aeron, you didn’t tell me you have your own pilot. What’s your name?”

  “Card. Caleb Card.”

  “CC. I like it. Well, CC, I believe in two things. One, let the professionals do what they do best. Two, plausible deniability. You’ve got the helm. Cena, CC is going to take over as pilot for this flight. Please provide access to all necessary systems.”

  “Of course, Leyland.”

  “Aeron, if you need me I’ll be drinking with the rest of your crew and waiting to die.” Flint waved and vanished from the cockpit.

  Caleb looked at Haeri. “Sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Haeri smiled. “Believe me, Caleb. You probably just saved all our lives. Go ahead.”

  Caleb crossed to the pilot’s seat, sitting and buckling himself in. He took the CUTS headband and put it on, closing his eyes as it began to buzz.

  “Calibrating,” Cena said in his ears. “Standby.”

  The buzz diminished to silence.

  “CC,” Cena added. “As I mentioned to Leyland, the Peace Office has suspended all outgoing flights from the spaceport. It is illegal for us to leave until the suspension has been lifted.”

  “Haven’t you ever done anything illegal before?” Caleb asked.

  “No. My programming doesn’t allow me to act in opposition to government regulations.”

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing Flint put me in charge. Cena, transfer full flight controls to the CUTS system.”

  “I will not be able to assist with the launch.”

  Considering the AI can’t help anyway, it’s not much of a loss.

  Caleb smiled. That it couldn’t help him do what it wasn’t allowed to do was a typical machine complaint.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “Transfer controls.”

  “Controls transferred.”

  Caleb glanced at Haeri. “Here we go.”

  45

  Caleb

  Caleb stared out through the ship’s forward viewport at the grounded vessels spread out across the surface of the planet. They had to be the cruise ships—large and boxy, they had multiple loading tubes leading into them from beneath the surface—that Haeri had mentioned. They were behemoths, almost as large as the Deliverance—big enough to dwarf Flint’s vessel.

  Didn’t we do this four hours ago?

  Ishek was right. They had done something similar not long ago when they had flown the Stiletto from Ziyou Base to Centurion Prime. It was his job to make sure they didn’t repeat the outcome that had left both him and the Advocate within a centimeter of their lives.

  He glanced over at General Haeri again. The general nodded his approval, ready for Caleb to lift off. He leaned forward, tapping on the controls to begin feeding power to both the main and lifting thrusters.

  Almost immediately, a light on the terminal began to flash, indicating a hail from Ground Control.

  “LC104,” the controller said. “We’re detecting increased power output to your ion thrusters.”

  The statement was also a question. The controller wanted to know why they were picking up a change in the ship’s energy output.

  “Affirmative, Control,” Caleb replied. “Just running some routine diagnostics.”

  “Roger, LC104. Be advised the spaceport is currently on lockdown. Any efforts to lift off will be treated as an act of aggression and dealt with accordingly.”

  “Affirmative, Control,” he repeated. “Just testing the thrusters is all. LC104 out.” He looked at Haeri again. “What should I expect?”

  “Missile defense system,” Haeri replied. “And a squadron of Stilettos if that fails. Nothing those massive engines shouldn’t be able to handle.”

  “Then let’s see what this thing can do.” Caleb closed his eyes, taking his attention off the cruisers ahead. In his mind, the ship was rising, though he didn’t hear an increased whine from the thrusters or any other indication they were underway. The luxury starship was soundproofed and steady, peaceful and calm inside despite the storm that was forming outside.

  He opened his eyes, noticing the comm light flashing on the terminal. He ignored it this time. He already knew the consequences of his actions. He was taking them anyway.

  The ship was already twenty meters off the ground and rising quickly.

  “My sensors are registering tracking systems attempting to achieve target lock,” Cena said.

  Caleb raised an eyebrow. Was that kind of speech and recognition part of the standard shipboard AI package?

  “They aren’t going to get it,” Caleb replied. He pictured the ship shooting forward toward the cruisers ahead.

  He nearly lost control of the spacecraft as he was shoved back into his seat, the main thrusters firing and launching the craft forward, accelerating faster than he would have thought possible. Only years of training prevented him from panicking. He found the space between two of the cruise liners and guided them toward it, increasing their angle of attack through the atmosphere. They blasted past the tourist ships, coming close enough to see the surprised faces of passengers in the large viewports of the vessels as they passed.

  The cruiser continued to rocket close to the surface, out past the perimeter of the spaceport on a path toward Praeton’s domes. He guided the ship into a steeper climb, the surface of Proxima suddenly beginning to fall away in a hurry.

  That wasn’t so hard.

  Ishek spoke too soon. The CUTS emitted a loud whine in his right ear, the tone changing as the missiles were loosed.

  “We’re under attack,” Cena said flatly.

  Caleb ignored the AI. A projection of the incoming missiles suddenly floated in the air in front of him, giving him a full view of the predicament. Timer’s beneath each of the three projectiles counted down their estimated time to impact.

  “Can’t this thing go any faster?” Caleb said, even though he knew it couldn’t. General Haeri had been overly confident in the ship’s speed. The missiles were gaining.

  “Sensors have detected spacecraft on an intercept course,” Cena said.

  “Great. How about helping me with the first problem before we worry about the second?”

  “How can I be of service, CC?”

  “Does this ship have any kind of anti-missile system?”

  “Officially, no.”

  “What about unofficially?”

  “That depends on your definition of anti-missile system.”

  This is insanity.

  Caleb forced himself to remain calm. He didn’t know why the AI was programmed to be so cagey. Maybe so it wouldn’t reveal something Flint didn’t want anyone to know?

  The missiles were closing, the counters reaching twenty seconds. The Stilettos were on the tactical projection now too, coming at the cruiser in the center from two directions. The only clear path was up.

  At least they were already headed that way.

  “Flares, chaff, signal jamming,” Caleb said, listing methods to confuse locked projectiles.

  “No,” Cena replied. “I have none of those.”

  “Point-defense? Shields?”

  “No.”

  There had to be a way out of this. Something he wasn’t thinking about. Flint seemed like the kind of man who was ready for anything. He wouldn’t leave the ship completely defenseless.

  Ten seconds to impact. We’re going to die if you don’t do something quickly.

  Caleb looked down at the terminal. The thrusters were at max, the current velocity listed on the screen. “Cena, is this as fast as we can go?” He had asked the question before, but he hadn’t directed it at the computer.

  “No,” Cena replied.

  “How do we go faster?”

  “I can deploy the secondary burst thrusters and activate the sub reactors.”

  “Yeah,” Caleb said. “Good idea. Do that.”

  Caleb watched the projection of the ship on the tactical change, two flaps sliding out of the way and revealing a pair of hidden thrusters. The outer rings started to glow orange as they heated up.

  Five seconds.

  The additional controls suddenly became available through the CUTS. Caleb didn’t hesitate, pushing the secondary throttle to max.

  He was shoved back into his seat a second time, eyes glued to the timers on the missiles. Four seconds until impact dropped to three, then two. And then it began to tick upwards again. Three, four, five...and higher.

  The ship blasted away, suddenly outpacing both the missiles and the Stilettos. Caleb kept his focus on the path ahead, holding the spacecraft steady as it reached the upper atmosphere.

  Then they were through, the black expanse of space stretching out ahead of them and Proxima B falling further and further behind. He looked over at General Haeri, who nodded his approval.

  “Nice work, Colonel.”

  “Cena, set a course for Rig Six,” Caleb said. “Get us there as fast as you can.”

  “Of course, CC. Preparing fold drive and setting coordinates for Rig Six. Estimated time to arrival, one hour and six minutes.”

  “Do you have the controls?”

  “I have the controls, CC.”

  Caleb pulled the CUTS band off his head, placing it back on the terminal. He unstrapped himself from the seat and got to his feet, turning to Haeri.

  “Mission complete, sir.”

  46

  Max

  “Pyro, this is Barnes.” Her voice was ragged and frantic, the fear evident in the way it wavered. The sound of something pounding on the door was audible through her comm. “I don’t think the door is going to hold much longer.”

  “Shit,” Pyro cursed. “Max, what are we supposed to do? Nathan should have been back by now.”

  She was right. General Stacker should have returned by now. He wondered what was taking him so long. “Send backup to the tunnel,” he replied calmly. “Follow Sheriff Duke’s plan.”

  “Right,” Pyro said. “Barnes, get your squads into position. We thought the door might fail.”

  The Pilgrim shook for what seemed like the thousandth time. The Relyeh starship had only taken a single short break in its bombardment during the two hours it had been outside, pausing only to unload its cargo before taking to the sky again. The nearly continuous vibration was undoubtedly having the desired effect of frightening the civilians inside the ship and unnerving the deputies who had volunteered to defend it.

  “Roger that,” Barnes said, knowing she should have worked out the solution to the problem on her own, but humans were like that. Their emotions often got the best of them, clouding their judgment and leaving them vulnerable.

  Max retracted the tendrils of gel from the terminal, and then turned away from the computer and started for the door.

  “Max?” Pyro said. “Where are you going?”

  “Completion. I’ve done as much as I can without an ick to test with. I require an ick. There are many outside.”

  “You’re going outside?”

  “Negation. I’m going to the tunnels. They will come to us.”

  While the xaxkluth or Norg couldn’t provide an organ that would withstand the charge he intended to put into it, the tests could yield valuable information about the limits of the organic part. He fully intended to burn through as many Relyeh icks as were necessary to ensure the best fidelity he could achieve.

  “What should I do?”

  “Wait here. Prepare the preserving bath and mixtures in accordance with Natalia Duke’s notes.”

  Both Max and Pyro looked over at the materials they had gathered to connect the ick to the device. Krake hadn’t taken that part of the invention from the lab in Sanisco. It was large and relatively easy to replicate with access to the notes Natalia had left on the terminal.

  And the container they had made was larger still, able to hold more than a single ick at a time. Max also wanted to experiment with the effectiveness of multiple parallel connections to the Collective as a delivery mechanism. It would certainly ease the use of the system if he could reduce the requirement to a handful of Norg instead of something more resilient.

  “All units, the door is breached!” Deputy Barnes shouted over the combat network. “Defensive positions. Unit One, fall back!”

  Max was listening on every channel he was in range to receive, and he filtered the message, bringing it to the forefront of his processing. “The Hunger has breached the door,” Max said to Pyro. “I must hurry.”

  He didn’t wait for her to respond, rushing out of the room and then out of the research module, through the corridors of the Pilgrim toward the exit. Other deputies were in the halls, rushing to get into their assigned positions. They were led by single deputies in full combat armor, connected to the network and passing orders to the rest of the squad. Some of them carried ancient single-shot hunting rifles. A few he passed were holding old aluminum baseball bats, the only weapons they had.

  Max raced through the exit hatch, bypassing the stairs leading down from the sled. Instead, he leaped from the side, landing on the ground a dozen meters from the entrance to the lift. He took the deputies forming a defensive line there by surprise. They whirled around and trained their guns on him but managed to keep their wits about them and didn’t fire at him as he ran past.

  Audible inside the lift shaft, the intense barrage of plasma and projectile rounds kept the xaxkluth near the entrance from squeezing into the tunnel.

  Max grabbed the wire for the cab and began to climb, effortlessly pulling himself hand-over-hand up the shaft. He activated his Skin’s weapons system as he reached the top, leaping from the wire to the edge of the tunnel. He landed in the middle of a group of deputies too scared and focused to notice his arrival.

  Giant tentacles reached into the shaft, trying to grab the deputies past the bent and collapsed blast door. Two of the creatures were already limp on the ground, heads shredded from their limbs, but the volume of gunfire suggested the damage should have been more extensive. The deputies weren’t good or efficient shots, wasting what little ammunition they had to attack just a few arms.

  “Cease fire!” Max shouted, amplifying his voice. “Cease fire!”

  The line of deputies stopped shooting, heads turning to look at him. He found Deputy Barnes crouched near the front of the line.

  “Pull back,” Max said. “One meter.”

  They did as he said. The xaxkluth stretched its tentacles, following them. Both it and the deputies quickly discovered it couldn’t reach them.

  “Conservation. Ammunition is not unlimited. If it chooses to block the rest of the Hunger from entering, allow it. Hahaha. Haha.”

  The deputies laughed with him, enjoying the sudden break in the action. More than that, the xaxkluth’s single-minded persistence showed them the enemy wasn’t all that intelligent.

  The xaxkluth weren’t, anyway. Max knew better about the Norg. “Preparation,” he said. “The Norg will come soon.”

  “Norg?”

  “Affirmation. The soldiers behind this xaxkluth. Humanoid. Big and strong, but not bulletproof. Hahaha. Haha.”

  “Reload,” Deputy Barnes said. “Jenkins, call up the lift. They get to us, we make a run for it. Let the second phase have their turn.”

  The bottom of the shaft was the better choke point. Only a limited number of Relyeh could get down at one time, and they would emerge from a narrow space into a wide one where dozens of deputies were waiting to cut them down.

  Still, Max knew Barnes was hoping the Hunger wouldn’t make it that far.

  “Max, what are you doing here?” Barnes asked. The xaxkluth continued trying to reach them, and Max dangled his fingers just in front of one of the mouths, keeping it interested.