Chapter 46 — Messages

Author's Preface

Letting the average people, the mundane, the poor and the weak decide the fate of Humanity is a concept we must fight.

They cry because some dog people got hurt, and send our fleets to help out weak religious fanatics, leaving us open for attacks from the Doomsphere.

They open Earth to every freak and drag us into war after war.

They want to chain companies and industry more and more, and take away Earth's power in favor of colonies.

Who built the first Mars colonies? Who settled Ceres, Titan, Ganymede, and Europa? Not the welfare crowd, but the visionaries.

For everyone saying the time of feudalism is over, and democracy is the only way forward, we just need to look at the Psstips and their Empire. An empire thousands of years old, spacefaring and strong. So strong that not even the Batract tried to integrate them.

Gentlemen, it is our turn. Either we act now, or we will be chained to the whims of the feeble-minded masses.

— Post on a pro-Oligarchy message board, 3 B.I.

André was flat on the ground, the window room-high, and the whole facade smartglass. He was a sitting duck.

The next round impacted. Large chunks of the window evaporated with the protomatter of the bullet.

'We detected gunfire at your location. Building security is on its way. Security drones are dispatched to apprehend the attacker. Please stay calm.'

André rolled to his side, trying to get behind his desk. The building's VI announcement was more irritating than calming.

"Darken the windows, so the shooter doesn't see me, goddammit."

'Understood. Please stay calm, help is on the way.'

If it tells me to stay calm one more time, I'll rip its core out.

Another round hit the desk and disintegrated an ugly statue he got from his ex-wife, together with the whole corner the thing had stood on.

The windows darkened, finally, but his attacker wasn't stupid. Before André could make a run for the door, he heard three thick fupps. The bullets must have had a larger charge of protomatter, since André began to smell Edvard Grieg's In the Hall of the Mountain King . A smell like mango and onions. His ocular's ringtone…

As if she had known about the statue, it was his ex-wife Sladjana.

"Decline."

The three shots were placed precisely to allow someone outside the office a view of the door.

'Voice message received from Sladjana Gerber.'

Not now, dammit…

He didn't dare run for the door. The shooter just had to wait for him.

Lying flat on the ground, André had a crazy idea.

The wall to the next office was made of plasterboard, like all non-load-bearing walls.

Unlike in action movies, jumping through plasterboard is not easy, and not advised.

He knew the next office was empty at the moment.

Pulling his gun, he shot a rough X shape in the wall to weaken the plaster. Then he focused all his power into one big jump.

Before jumping through plasterboard, make sure you know if cables or utility pipes run through it. If they do, don't try your stunt.

The thought came to André's mind the moment his feet left the ground. Then his shoulder hurt and he crashed to the floor, inside the neighboring office.

"Fuuuck."

Something inside his shoulder was injured, but he was alive.

Ducking down in case the sniper had noticed something, he ran out of the office and toward the stairwell.

His ocular signaled an incoming call again.

"Accept."

"André?"

"I'm a little busy now, what's up?"

"Someone picked up the twins at school today."

André's vision blurred. He could hear his heartbeat.

Vanessa, Danijel.

He stopped running down the stairs so fast he almost toppled over.

"What happened, Sladjana, are they…"

"I don't know, André. Who would do such a thing?"

———

'All repairs are complete, and the fleet as well as all tenders have stocked up on volatiles and spare minerals and refined metals. The fleet is ready to depart, Admiral.'

The CIC was again a buzzing hive of officers and techs doing their work.

"Thank you, Zeus. Send the fleet a signal to prepare for an escape vector out of system and Transit coordinates for Nekoo."

Central Gultra's sudden mood change had allowed for a much faster repair cycle, and because of this, the decision was made to support the Nekoo defensive before going for the Batract homeworld.

"Admiral, a word?"

Yurdantho had entered the CIC without her noticing. Reading Nuk body language was difficult, but the High Ordinator wore his Cloak draped over his left shoulder. The memo from the diplomatic corps had described this as the equivalent of dressing up in full parade uniform. This meeting was about something serious.

"The conference room?"

What does he want now? The Ordinator had been odd ever since his collapse.

Yurdantho just nodded, a Human gesture all Nuk had adopted quickly.

He's gonna leave with his fleet for the Nuk home systems, for sure. And who could blame him.

Entering the conference room, Yurdantho closed the door behind them immediately. Without even sitting down at the expensive wooden table, he started to speak.

"We need to reevaluate the assignment of the Nuk forces, Admiral."

Bingo…

"Yes?"

She began to brace herself.

"Your plan to attack the Batract home system is flawed. You intend to use only the Human fleets, but we don't know how well the system is fortified."

"Naval Intelligence concludes—"

"Your Naval Intelligence had no clue where their home was before we told you. Listen, Admiral. When I became unconscious in the battle, I saw something."

"Synesthesia, a known side effect of FTL travel."

"No, I saw a Vrahl, a Nuk omen of death. A demon. Something bad is about to happen, and this ship will be in the center."

"High Ordinator, I can't decide my battle plans on visions and omens, no disrespect."

"Listen, Admiral."

Yurdantho's voice grew even more serious than before. He stepped closer. Was that fear in his eyes?

"If you won't believe the words of a fellow soldier, then listen to the words of a member of a dying people! A Vrahl has visited this ship. You need all the help you can get, and even this might not be enough."

What the fuck?

"What do you mean, dying people? Can we help?"

Yurdantho stepped back. She had never heard a Nuk laugh, but the chirping sounds the translator made could only be laughter.

"Humans. Your first instinct really does seem to be to help. What has scared you people so much that you want to help everyone? Yes, you might be able to — but all in its time."

Sanders looked at the Nuk with new eyes. The vision, omen, hallucination — whatever it was, had shocked and scarred the High Ordinator. Something almost a million enemy ships hadn't managed.

Could she disregard his vision? A year ago, no one had ever seen biological ships, much less dreamed of them being FTL-capable. Was a demon so far out of the realm of possibility?

Yes… Yes, it was. But what harm could caution do?

"Good, so… what do you suggest?"

"Let us join your crusade. We have almost a thousand ships here, and at my request another fleet of a thousand ships is coming. Together we crush the enemy at Nekoo, and then… then we end the Batract once and for all."

Join? The plan was to leave the Nuk here to secure the system.

Two thousand Nuk ships as support for her mission. How could she not say yes?

"Won't those ships be needed in your home system?"

The chirping sound again…

"Admiral, no Batract vessel will even come close to Home. Our laws forbid our navy to send out more than one percent of our fleet away from our system. Do the math."

———

Eleri raced the car down Interstate 95 at a speed that, under normal circumstances, would make André puke.

Her Mustang was an oldtimer, burning synthesized fuel, and was bare of any computerized safety features. Just pure Human instinct and reactions, at 280 km/h.

"Do we know who took them?"

Eleri looked… pissed. To her, Danijel and Vanessa had become family. And a furious Eleri had a frightening, systematic ruthlessness.

"Focus on the road."

André had his left foot on an imaginary brake pedal while he held the door frame firmly with his right hand. He should have just waited for the Sleipnir sent by Jules. But every transporter with sensors was better used to search for his twins.

The AIN had mobilized everything they got. If criminals thought touching a cop's family would rain down hell on them, they hadn't seen what the AIN would do to them.

"I'm focused, so tell me, what do we know?"

"The children were picked up after school let out. According to school security, the suspects had valid security papers."

"I guess they weren't AIN."

"No."

They drove past a sign: Philadelphia — 10 km .

In a few minutes he would meet Sladjana and have to face the accusation that his job might have endangered his children. The worst part: it was probably true.

Atlantic Council Federal Police had been informed and were supporting the search, just like the PPD. Even Lyra was helping sift through the security cam footage. André just couldn't shake the bad feeling.

His ocular flashed AIN intelligence warnings.

'Director Hunter calling.'

"Accept."

Inside his vision, an AR terminal with the face of AIN Director Jules Hunter appeared.

"André, I think you were right. The EarthGov Senate in Brussels was just attacked."

Fuck… It's starting.

"Any victims?"

Eleri stared at him. Not part of the call, she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Yes, Senator Kinsey was shot. Protomatter bullets, like your would-be assassin."

Kinsey?

If André had to name any Senator as part of the Oligarchy, Kinsey was high on the list, along with Senator Stone.

"And Senator Shore's motorcade got fired on, but the Senator managed to escape, with some luck."