Progeny (The Progenitor Trilogy, Book Three) (106 page)

Katherine looked upwards, and through the gaps in the shattered world flew a bright slender shape; it was an Arkari shuttle.

‘Hold on!’ said Eonara in her ears.  ‘Hold on!  I’m coming for you!’

The
Churchill
groaned.  Chen felt the deck move under her.  Scrambling to the remaining windows she looked out, and saw the stars beyond the ice-white plain of the Shaper dreadnought’s hull begin to move.

‘We’re under way,’ she reported.  ‘Looks like the ship is coming about and firing and... wait, the Shaper ships have also begun to fight each other!’

‘You’re kidding me,’ said McManus, still reeling from the sight of Cox and his men being torn to pieces by the Shaper.  ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Chen.  ‘Some weapon or other... I don’t know.’

Bright energies illuminated the wrecked bridge at the dreadnought returned fire from the weapons along its flank.

There was a sudden jolt that threw them sideways, and then there was another awful groaning sound from the depths of the wrecked carrier and the sound of metal tearing.  The wreck tilted horribly.  Chen pulled herself back to the windows and looked out.

‘We’re floating free!’ she reported.

The wreck of the
Churchill
had broken free of its moorings, where it had been jammed against the Shaper vessel.  The much larger craft’s movements had shaken it loose, and as the broken ship floated away, Chen and the remainder of her crew watched as the dreadnought ploughed through the dissolving Shaper fleet and disappeared into hyperspace. They looked on as the Shaper ships proceeded to destroy one another or flee in different directions into the void.  The ring that the dreadnought had held with the tips of its massive arms now floated free, tumbling slowly like a piece of discarded jewellery.

Later, when the fighting died down, Chen and the remains of the
Churchill's
crew made for the escape pods, and were scooped up by the Nahabe vessel
Uncaring Cosmos
, which began hauling them in with tractor beams even as she launched her own rescue craft towards the remains of the carrier.

‘Would you look at that,’ McManus kept saying over and over as wrecked Shaper vessels floated all around them.  ‘Would you look at that.’

The shuttle swept down through the storm of fire and destruction and swallowed Katherine and Rekkid, drawing them in with tractor fields into its liquid metal hull that had flowed open to admit them.  Now it powered upwards out of the collapsing world.  The Shaper home-world was breaking apart under the titanic bombardment by the Arkari fleet.  Vast, molten segments of crust were breaking away from one another as glowing debris was flung outwards from those disintegrating segments under the barrage.  At the centre of the hollow world, the glowing torus of the Singularity whirled ever faster, as the mind of the machine god began to devour itself.

The shuttle raced onwards, its engines straining to maximum as it climbed higher and higher towards the Arkari fleet, holding the two archaeologists safe within its sleek hull.

The
Profit Margin
and the
Unholy Matrimony
climbed into the sky above Bolivar City, engines fighting against gravity and bellies filled with the surviving members of the Hidden Hand and their naval allies.  Ahead, space was streaked with explosions and weapons fire as the Shaper ships tore at one another and those who could see out wondered aloud at what was transpiring above the world, and what to do about the city below them.

‘So who gets the honour?’ said Isaacs.

‘I’m not sure that we should,’ said Anna.  ‘After all, if the Shapers are fighting one another, do we need to detonate the warhead?’

‘We don’t know how long that will last,’ said Steven, slumped in one of the bridge’s couches and trying not to cry out with the pain in his shoulder.  ‘Besides, the city is lost.  We know that.’

‘We need to wipe the slate clean,’ said Haines.  ‘And I don’t know about you, but I want to make sure that those things are dead.  Give me the trigger, I’ll do it.  It’s the decent thing to release those poor bastards down there from what the Shapers did to them.  We ought to give them peace.’

The two ships climbed out of the atmosphere into space.  Behind them, the surface of Orinoco lit up with a blaze of light.  It was brighter than the sun, a searing burst of pure matter energy conversion, and Bolivar City ceased to exist.

Above them, the spherical shape of a Nahabe vessel could be seen, and then countless more gunspheres began to show up on the
Profit Margin’s
scanners.  There was a signal coming from one of the vessels.  It was the
Uncaring Cosmos
.  The men and women of the Hidden Hand whooped for joy at the sight of their Nahabe friends and the knowledge that the rest of their ragtag band had survived aboard that venerable craft.

The battle for the Shaper home-world had turned into a rout.  As the Shaper ships ceased their attack on the Arkari and began to slaughter one another, the Arkari fleet did not hesitate in exterminating them.  Ships died in their hundreds, then in their thousands.  Many realised the severity of the situation, that they were entirely surrounded by enemies and attempted to flee the galactic core into the depths of space.  The Arkari pursued them, hunted them and killed them.

Beklide watched the tiny shuttle clear the inside of the broken planet and race towards her waiting craft, a gleaming silver bird that shot out of the ruin of the shattering planet.

‘Thank you,’ said Eonara.  ‘Now you may proceed.’

‘Fire,’ said Beklide.

The Executioner Cannon lived up to its name.  It split a world in two, and killed a god.

Epilogue

One Month Later:

Chen stepped into Haines’s office.  The view out of the broad windows on the tenth floor looked out over the complex in the direction of the city.  The skyline of London glowered on the horizon, despite the bright sunshine outside.  Haines stood contemplating the view, a tumbler of whisky in his hand.  He turned as Chen entered, for a second wearing the expression of a naughty schoolboy caught in the act of doing something he shouldn’t, then he saw it was her and took another sip of his drink.

              Chen stood before him, her uniform sporting a fresh set of medal ribbons, her shoulder boards adorned with additional gold stars.  She looked Haines up and down.  He had recovered well from his ordeal in Achernar.  His wounds had healed well and though he still needed to regain some of his weight, he almost seemed back to his old self.

              ‘Well, you’re almost as famous as me now, Admiral Chen,’ said Haines, jovially.  ‘Almost as many medals, and only half my age too.’

              ‘Half, sir?’

              ‘Well, physically, at least. I hear that you’re anxious to get back into the saddle.’

              ‘Yes sir, I am.’

              ‘The
Churchill
was a fine ship, Michelle.  A fine crew too.  It’s a great pity that so many of them didn’t make it.  They’re heroes, every one.  I hope you realise how grateful we all are for what you did out there.  You’re the best the Navy’s got, Michelle.  Whatever posting you want, it’s yours, including my job.’

              ‘Sir?’

              ‘Ah well, they’re gonna have me flying a desk from now on.  Special Advisor to the President on Naval Affairs, or something... so I’m officially retiring from active duty at the end of the month.  Admiral Hawkwood is now Chief of Staff of the Navy and he’s looking for a Fleet Admiral.’

              ‘Yes sir.  Whatever posting I get, I’d like to keep my crew together where possible.’

              ‘I think you can safely assume that that’s a given, though you’ll need a new XO now Commander McManus has been re-instated as Captain.  Hawkwood’s given him command of the
Leyte Gulf
.’

              ‘A good ship, sir.  He’s earned it.  I was thinking to promote Lieutenant Commander Singh to be my XO.  He’s a first class officer.’

              ‘There’s still a lot to do, Michelle.  Although the Shapers tore themselves apart, thanks to the actions of those aboard the
Shining Glory
, there’s bound to be some of them still out there, lurking in some godforsaken corner of the galaxy, and then of course there’s the K’Soth civil war still rumbling on and well, the rebuilding effort is going to take some time.  We need to keep pirates in line, stop them capitalising on vulnerable systems, police the trade lanes and...’

              ‘Business as usual, sir?’

              ‘Business as usual, Admiral Chen,’ Haines replied.  ‘Come on, don’t look so glum.  You were on the winning side twice in the last couple of years.  That’s as many as I managed in an entire career.’

              ‘Yes sir.  I know that.’

              ‘Of course,’ said Haines, conspiratorially.  ‘I may have something else to offer you.’

              ‘You know,’ said Isaacs, reclining on the gigantic double bed.  ‘I could get tired of five star service after a while, and Paris.’

              ‘Really?  I always used to say you should take me somewhere nice, for a change. They say when you’re tired of Paris, you’re tired of life, or something,’ said Anna, taking another sip of her champagne. 

              ‘That’s London, and I think I’ve seen enough art galleries to last a life time.  You know, I always thought that when I hit the jackpot I’d go on some sort of month long bender somewhere exotic with expensive drinks and cheap women.’

              ‘They have those here too.  Not that you’re going to find out, are you hubby dearest? Even if they do keep approaching you because you’re a famous hero of the Commonwealth.’

              Isaacs groaned with mock anguish.

              ‘Makes you wonder what sort of attention those two archaeologists get.  Journeying to the galactic core and helping to save everyone from the Shapers ranks pretty highly as far as I’m concerned.  Still, I’m a famous heroine of the Commonwealth, so you know, I get offers too from time to time, especially when I tell people about how we rescued everyone’s new favourite academics from Rhyolite.’ 

              ‘Yeah, I must remember to use that one,’ said Isaacs, and Anna playfully punched him on the arm.

‘Anyway, you once said that you wanted to see the sights of Earth properly and it beats crashing in space-port hotels.  It also beats being crammed together in your ship eating ration packs three times a day and it beats being shot at by god knows what every bloody day.  It smells a damn sight better as well,’ she said.  ‘When was the last time you had that thing valeted?’

              ‘The
Profit Margin
is a beautiful ship, which has saved my arse and yours more times than I care to remember.’

              ‘Well I’m glad you still have an arse, dear.  Really I am,’ said Anna reaching around and goosing him.  ‘So what do you want to do with all this money?  The Navy were very generous, I think.  Ten million credits is a lot of money.  We can’t blow all of it on holidays and parties.’

              ‘We can’t?’

              ‘No.  Look, I mean have you ever thought about settling down, you know “us”.’

              ‘Settling down?’

              ‘Yes, we have enough money to live wherever the hell we like.  Buy somewhere nice, have a couple of kids, you know, normal stuff except with ten million in the bank.’

              ‘Yeah, normal stuff...’ Isaacs looked thoughtful.

              ‘And with that much cash we can buy more ships, start our own proper business, instead of this living around the edges shit we’ve been pulling for years, and you can still fly whenever you want.  Come on Cal, how about it?’

              ‘Well,’ he said.  ‘Alright, I’ll think about it.  What was that first thing again?’

              ‘Buy somewhere nice.’

              ‘And second?’

              ‘Have a couple of kids.’

              ‘Yeah,’ said Isaacs.  ‘Let’s do that first.’

              He grabbed hold of her and kissed her.

              Katherine and Rekkid lay on the grass in the sun, the half finished bottle of wine between them.  Across the river Cam, the ancient stones of Kings College basked in the warm summer’s day.  Students from many species ambled by, with bags and rucksacks filled with books and datapads, chatting together in dozens of languages both human and alien.  Some cast furtive glances at the two half drunk figures sprawled a short distance away. Their likenesses had been emblazoned across all media for the past few weeks ever since they had returned from the centre of the galaxy via the Arkari wormhole and told their incredible story to a waiting galaxy still wondering what happened to the Shapers and who had hailed them as heroes.  This time, the Arkari had backed them up on every detail, although some aspects of what they had discovered had been withheld for the time being.

              ‘Ah, I’ve missed this,’ said Rekkid, shielding his eyes against the sun.

              ‘What, sunshine, fresh air, vegetation, other people who aren’t trying to kill us?’

              ‘No, decent booze,’ he replied, holding up the glass so it caught the light.  ‘One of the true signs of a decent civilisation is its ability to produce delicious things that get you pleasantly drunk.’

              ‘Is that the title of your next paper?’ said Katherine, refilling her glass.

              ‘Well it’s a start, and a lot safer than some of things we’ve studied of late.  Think about it: take Earth’s history: the Greeks – big wine producers, the Romans – ditto, the British - beer and whisky!  I could go on.’

              ‘You generally do.  Presumably this theory is applicable to the Arkari as well?’

              ‘Naturally.  Of course this paper will require many hours of diligent study, which I intend to carry out in a variety of locations that also serve food.  Would you care to be my research partner, Doctor O’Reilly?’ said Rekkid, and took another mouthful.