Inherit the Stars (5 page)

The entire tower hummed once. The vibration shook Kivita's whole person. Glowing geodes shone one bright ray on the altar, then darkened.

“What do you want from—?”

Her hands slid over smooth stone. The altar cracked open. She fell into its opening a few inches, and a churning red glow lit her faceplate.

The Juxj Star orbited her head.

With the altar chipping around her, Kivita fumbled to her feet. Her hands brushed the gem's surface. The tingling in her head magnified to a cerebral throb. Kivita lost her breath as her skin numbed and a chalky taste rose in her mouth. Her eyes filled with images far beyond anything she'd ever imagined.

Lush worlds covered in canopies of green vegetation, where multicolored birds chirped and made weblike nests from morning dew. A star encircled by gargantuan starships, siphoning off its energy. Ships packed with healthy, attractive people. They were free of disease, hunger, or war. Each person had plentiful heat, food, and water. Families had children, mammalian pets, and personal riches beyond what the Inheritor prophets possessed.

Kivita stood, the Juxj Star in hand, as coordinates filled her thoughts:
galactic clusters located a hundred light years outside the Cetturo Arm. Undiscovered yellow main-sequence stars. The whereabouts of Vim derelicts, capable of mining nebula gases to power impossible journeys. Aboard them were clinical, sterile chambers filled with cryopods and automated caretakers.

The visions ended as she backed from the crumbling
altar. The Juxj Star glowed once and darkened to its normal luster. The Kith had vanished.

A low-toned beep from her envirosuit dispelled her blithe sensations.

She had only two hours of air left.

What? She must have stood in this damn tower for hours! Maybe something had cracked her canisters, and the lack of air was making her light-headed. The tingling in her head swelled to a sharp pain and disappeared. She moaned upon realizing she'd just been mouthing the strange coordinates from her mind.

Whatever this thing was, Dunaar could have it. Kivita put the Juxj Star into her side pouch and snapped it shut. She forced her legs to carry her from the tower and toward the arched tunnels. The wrist compass beeped again, as if mocking her doomed struggle to return.

“We are in the Wraith Star system and nearing Vstrunn now, Your Holiness,” Stiego's voice blared from the intercom in Dunaar's quarters.

Dunaar waited as Zhara placed the glittering robe over his shoulders, while a minor prophet handed him the Scepter of Office. The slim gray stone datacore had been in Inheritor possession since Arcuri wrote the Charter. Never had the weight of his office been more palpable.

A Proselyte appeared in the doorway. “Rector, it's Bredine again.”

“So?” Dunaar said. “Use a baton. There are more pressing matters.”

The Proselyte inclined his head. “Rector, she claims she has detected a message. Through space.”

Swallowing a rebuke, Dunaar stared at the man. “Message? Perhaps you have used the baton too much and addled her brain. Bring her to me.”

“Rector, forgive me, but she is being held in Medical. Her screams upset the other Savants.”

Dunaar walked past the Proselyte and down the hall. Servants trailed him across the red carpet to Medical.
Keeping a filthy Savant nearby made Dunaar's pulse race.

A feminine wail came from the ward.

“You should have gagged her.” Grunting in annoyance, Dunaar threw open the door. Sterile smells stung his nose. Harsh white lamps lit a rectangular room containing medical cots and therapeutic machines.

“Kivita sends. Sends, sends!” Bredine screamed, writhing on the floor. “Vim. Vim message! From the wonderful tower. Rector, hmm? She sends it. Sends!”

Dunaar gestured at her. Two Proselytes hauled her up. The half-wit's struggles overturned wheeled trays filled with bandages and needles.

“Careful how you blaspheme the Vim. What message?” Dunaar pressed the Scepter against her neck.

“Kivita sends it for all. Vim message through void black. Hmm. Coordinates to hidden Vim. Wonderful tower was a beacon, sending, sending, and sending!”

Dunaar almost swatted her with the Scepter, but a notion tickled his thoughts. “Wait. We need—”

“Rector,
Terredyn Narbas
is now on our wideband scanners,” Stiego's voice came over the hall intercom. “Calibrating main sensors to implanted Sarrhdtuu beacon.”

Something in Bredine's green eyes sent a chill along his skin. Dunaar pushed the intercom button just inside Medical's entrance. “Captain, mark these coordinates and tell me where they lead.”

He motioned, and the Proselytes brought Bredine to the speaker.

“Recite what you have received,” Dunaar said.

She gaped up at him. He glanced at the Proselytes holding her. One of them slapped her cheek, and the other booted her in the back.

“Recite it.”

Bredine spoke a short set of coordinates into the speaker. Not being a navigator, Dunaar made little sense of her gibberish.

Stiego's voice came back in a bullish tone. “That's only fifteen light years from Haldon, near the Terresin Expanse. Those calculations aren't Inheritor in origin, Rector.”

Bredine had never led Dunaar, or previous Rectors, false. No Savant had received a message through space, either. Dunaar wondered why
Arcuri's Glory
hadn't detected the same signal.

“Vim are calling. Hmm. Narbas?” Bredine gasped, then sagged in the Proselytes' grip.

“Rector, an Aldaakian cruiser has been detected in the system!” Stiego called over the intercom. A general alarm echoed throughout
Arcuri's Glory
.

“Set an intercept course, Captain.” Dunaar wiped sweat from his shaved head. Perhaps the Juxj Star held more secrets than he'd imagined. The quicker Kivita helped him eliminate the Vim's enemies, the faster he'd learn those secrets.

•   •   •

Fresh out of cryostasis, Sar jerked on his bodyglove, then snapped into his polycuirass and matching boots. Cheseia slipped into a bulky envirosuit. Outside
Frevyx
's bridge viewport, Vstrunn's hydrogen cloud cover parted. The crystalline surface beckoned them with glimmers of light. Far ahead, a small dot representing
Terredyn Narbas
orbited the planet.

Sar sat down in the pilot's chair, reached for the mic, and hesitated.

“Will you truly hail her again?” Cheseia fastened the envirosuit's clamps around her wrists and ankles.

He gave her a sidelong glance. “Kiv would've responded by now. I bet she's planetside. I'm guessing she hasn't been here long.”

No. She had been on Vstrunn too damn long.

The beacon scanner showed no other craft nearby, but with the instrument's light-minute delay, another vessel could enter the system's fringes without him knowing. They had to chance it. Sar gripped the manuals and steered
Frevyx
toward the planet.

Cheseia snapped on boots, donned insulated gloves, then examined the nav screen. “This Kivita Vondir is very brave, and certainly foolish. I have a signal from a landing capsule near the upper pole.”

Sar keyed in the trajectory as she read it to him. “I don't like this. Any moment, an Aldaakian cruiser might enter the system.” He buckled himself down as
Frevyx
neared Vstrunn's outer atmosphere.

She strapped into the navigator chair and tied her mane back with a leather thong. “You are definitely the best pilot I know. I am truly more worried about the Kith.”

Hydrogen-cloud turbulence sent shudders along the ship. He kept his breathing calm, his eyes on the console. More turbulence nearly tugged control of the ship from him. One particular nasty patch jostled them in their seats, but in the next instant,
Frevyx
cleared it. Sar flew them between crystal spires hundreds of feet high, then down into a canyon three miles deep.

“Will she surely be happy to see you?” Cheseia asked, her russet eyes anxious.

“Doubt it. She won't turn down a rescue, though. Kiv's got a tongue more barbed than a slag-dust addict. Be patient with her.”

Cheseia grunted and mashed her seat lock down.

Frevyx
's scanner found the landing capsule beside the rim of a fissure six miles deep. Sar gave a mental curse at Kivita's recklessness.

He set
Frevyx
down on a mesa a hundred feet west of the capsule. Even through the hull, the crackling of scorched crystal was audible as his braking thrusters activated. Sar unbuckled himself and rose. From the viewport's perspective, he realized Kivita wasn't in, or anywhere near, the capsule.

He rushed to the storage lockers and put on an envirosuit.

Cheseia took up an envirohelmet. “I am absolutely stronger than you. Let me search for her.”

“Stay here. Watch for Kith or anything else. Kiv shouldn't be far; she never was good in high-G. No radio messages, though. Any Aldaakians will pick it up before they detect our beacon.”

After handing him the helmet, Cheseia grasped his arm. “Return within an hour, or I will surely search for you.”

“That's not enough time for me to find her myself.” Sar snapped on the helmet.

“You came for her, definitely not the gem.” Cheseia squeezed his arm so hard, his suit sleeve creaked.

He touched her furred cheeks. “Told you where my heart lies. Kiv knew it, too.”

Cheseia looked away, chest rising in heavy breaths.

Where did his heart lie? Shattered on Freen? Pierced over Gontalo, where he'd left Kiv? Or frozen out there in the cosmic darkness, where even he was afraid to look? He wasn't sure if the answer mattered anymore. All that mattered was his revolution against the hated yellow banner.

“Come back to me,” Cheseia whispered, still not looking at him.

As the airlock opened, Sar smirked. The angry surprise on Kivita's face would be worth it.

•   •   •

Seul Jaah read a list of infant names on the flat-panel display inside
Aldaar
's communal atrium. Like all Aldaakian women, she'd donated her ovary eggs to the Pediatric Ward. Seul had seen her baby daughter only once, right before the infant had been taken to receive her cryoports.

All Aldaakians received cryoports at birth: three in each arm, two in each leg, two in the chest, one in the stomach, and one behind the neck. Seul wondered how cold space would really feel without the ports regulating her bodily systems. How humans traveled through space without freezing to death amazed her.

Since ten light years separated her current post at Vstrunn from her homeworld, the girl would be the same age now. Seul would never know her. Aldaakian infants were tested and trained for future duties, like Shock Troopers, Archivers, pilots, or doctors. Loyalty was placed in the race, not individuals or relatives. She knew it was the right way.

Behind her, off-duty Troopers sat at a counter, enjoying protein slush and gelatin sticks. A spherical lamp gave the atrium a blue glow. Everyone wore the same blue-gray uniform, stood six feet tall, and had white-within-azure eyes.

Kael grinned up at her. As shuttle pilot for her squad, he remained out of cryostasis more than most. It'd long been Aldaakian custom to keep most personnel frozen until needed, in order to conserve resources. Looking
him up and down, Seul didn't want to conserve anything when around him.

“Drop that smile and hand me some Touu berry gelatin.” Seul sat beside Kael. Her cryoports relaxed despite her mock austerity.

“As you command, Captain Jaah. I am your servant.” His hairless albino skin glistened from a recent mist bath. Seul still had two recreation debits before the next jump cycle. Maybe she'd spend one with him.

She scooted her hand closer to his on the counter. “You'd better be. I've been trying to get you promoted to Commander Vuul's bridge staff for three jump cycles now. You're wasted as a pilot.”

“You keep trying to get rid of me. It won't work.” Kael passed her a yellow Touu stick and smiled.

Seul took the stick and licked it. The Touu's sweet-and-sour flavor stuck to her tongue. “How much longer until you go back into cryostasis?”

“Six hours, during which I have to run diagnostics on all of
Aldaar
's shuttles. Why?” Kael asked.

Regulations were lax concerning relationships in dry dock, but . . . being on an Aldaakian cruiser meant one was always on duty. No personal quarters; just a cryopod surrounded by other cryopods. A request for privacy would earn her a psychological evaluation. Overt interest in him would earn her a demerit.

“It's nothing.” There had to be a hint, some clue she could give him. Seul could ask him to—

Aldaar
's alarm blared through the atrium speaker.

“Do you think the Inheritors are trying to take the gem again?” Kael asked.

“Not if I can help it,” Seul said.

While Kael rushed to the airlock bay, Seul headed for the bridge. Other Aldaakians manned battle stations or secured weapons from lockers. Sparse lamps lit the ship's narrow corridors, which were lined with cryopods. Cryogenic exhaust hissed from vents along the floor, tainting the air with a stale frost scent.

Seul entered the bridge as Commander Vuul rose from his seat. His cold white-within-azure stare measured her. She and seven other officers snapped to attention. The flight staff waited at their terminals, worry in their eyes.

Flat displays presented readouts of Vstrunn and its white dwarf sun. Wide trapezoidal viewports revealed the crystalline world and a field of dim stars.

One human craft orbited Vstrunn, while beacon signals emitted from two others on the planet's surface.

Seul's cryoports tingled with apprehension. For decades her people had assumed the Vim had left something on the planet. Something many had died for.

“New Inheritor forays on Vstrunn have produced an unpredictable result,” Vuul said in a deep voice. “In the past, I deployed squads to investigate; each met with fierce Kith resistance, or were unable to enter the tower. Something is different this time. Captain Jaah, I want your squad to board the orbiting vessel and secure it.”

“It is done, Commander Vuul.” She inclined her head and touched her chest cryoports.

“The rest of you, activate your squads from cryostasis and remain on standby,” Vuul said. “More human ships might arrive. I have sent word to my fellow commanders throughout the Cetturo Arm.”

Everyone on the bridge stood rigid and silent. Seul's
heart beat faster, and her cryoports clenched. The Inheritors had never sent more than one ship before, and only in dire circumstances did an Aldaakian commander alert other fleets.

“May I inquire about the situation, Commander Vuul?” Seul asked.

“A signal has been sent from the planet's surface,” Vuul said. “One our entire race has sought for centuries.”

Seul's cryoports clamped shut in shock as she studied the flat display. The familiar radio wave all Archivers taught Aldaakian children about had finally been detected.

A Vim signal.

Ever since the Aldaakian exodus from the Khaasis system, Seul's ancestors had searched for their ancient allies, the Vim, to receive promised technology to defeat the Sarrhdtuu. Sarrhdtuu attacks had destroyed many Aldaakian worlds, atomized several armadas. Surviving fleets had sought refuge in the Cetturo Arm—yet their old enemies, and the xenophobic Inheritors, had greeted them.

Seul knew their Vim allies had been here long ago. Now they were returning to help them defeat the Sarrhdtuu.

“You all have your orders.” Vuul turned and studied the display.

As Seul exited the bridge, a strange numbness permeated her body. Aldaakians had bred themselves and reshaped their society to survive Sarrhdtuu depredations. Everyone was trained to fight, and all resources had to be rationed. Cryostasis had offered an answer to many problems; individuals not needed simply slept in a
cryopod, sometimes for years. Now, with the possibility of reuniting with the Vim, her race might find peace again.

Standing inside a locker, Seul waited as a full polysuit socketed itself into her cryoports. Slim rods turned and inserted into each cavity. Seul didn't even grimace anymore, having been long accustomed to the process. The armor converted perspiration into cryonic gas, which helped to maintain body temperature, while the inner layer clung to her body like a second skin. A helmet with a tinted faceplate snapped into place over her head.