Resolution (80 page)

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Authors: John Meaney

Tags: #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Resolution
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‘It’s like two people on Terra agreeing to call an apple red. Whether they’re experiencing the same thing, no-one can say.’

 

Chalou turned in a circle on the spot.

 

‘Whatever we see, we can agree this place is magnificent. It is heaven.’

 

‘That it is, sir,’ said Sandberg. ‘Will you stay long?’

 

‘I think’ - Chalou sighed, turned to face Ro as golden ripples passed across his visor - ‘that Sam will be missing me. My dog,’ he explained to Sandberg.

 

‘Ah. Then I hope to see you again sometime, Pilot Chalou. Admiral.’

 

Sandberg turned in a certain way, planes of light that had not been visible now rotated like doors, and he slipped into another level of Labyrinth and was gone from sight.

 

‘Such a marvellous place,’ said Chalou. ‘I would like ...’

 

‘When the time comes,’ Ro told him, ‘I’d be honoured to bring you back here to stay, for good.’

 

Around them the hall’s majestic walls seemed to expand and contract as though in a sigh. The air, or what passed for it in this place, transmitted an intoxicating shiver.

 

You are most welcome here.

 

Chalou’s mouth dropped open.

 

‘My God, Admiral. It’s like the wind talking.’

 

‘What wind? Talking?’

 

‘Ah.’

 

Beneath his visor, Chalou smiled.

 

 

On the journey back to Terra, Chalou said little, and Ro respected his silence. But finally, in a pale stretch of amber space, they were nearing the insertion point.

 

‘Almost there.’

 

‘Thank you, Ro.’

 

They shivered into realspace, into its blackness, with white stars as pinpoints in the void, and the fluffy white and blue globe of Terra that only Ro, now, could see.

 

‘Proximity alert. Proximity alert.’
Flaring holos.

 

And the fast approach of three ships, headed straight for them.

 

‘Zajinets.’

 

 

There was an infinite number of ways to re-enter mu-space from anywhere, but each point had its own quickest route: the least-action path. That was the one Ro took.

 

‘Hang on, Claude.’

 

They screamed back into golden mu-space, with three attacking vessels on their tail.

 

 

Violet lightning streaked past - some Zajinet weapon that operated in mu-space - and Ro took her ship through a shuddering series of turns. Golden space and black stars became a blur.

 

‘Shit.’

 

The Zajinet ships, all three of them, were still behind them. Ro spun the ship through a helical manoeuvre, hesitated over a possible trajectory that would hook them back into realspace some thirty years after they had left it, then broke off and levelled out.

 

‘My niece Orla will take care of Sam.’ Chalou’s voice was grim. ‘Do what you have to do.’

 

The ship shuddered as backlash from enemy weapons washed against the hull.

 

‘Damn it. They don’t even have to shoot us straight on.’ Ro’s own ship carried armaments, but the main weaponry was the graser-gatling arrays that worked only in realspace ... but in realspace, the Zajinets would catch her in seconds.
This
was where her ship came alive. ‘Come on ...’

 

Turn, and turn.

 

In his seat, Chalou arched back, fingers hooked like claws on the armrests; and Ro realized anew that Chalou was no longer a young man.

 

‘I
will
get us out of this,’ she said.

 

Crimson turbulence gathered up ahead.

 

Here we go.

 

Ro accelerated. The Zajinets followed.

 

 

Through a tunnel in the crimson nebula they flew. Then they burst out into a region of clear amber space. Far ahead hung one of those fractal shining trees that might be lifeforms whose distances spanned light-years measured by least-action geodesies.

 

Everything
is relative in mu-space.

 

Ro flew hard, knowing that if she could reach the scintillating pattern in time, her three pursuers would never—

 

‘What’s that?’ Blood trickled from Chalou’s lip where he had bitten it.

 

‘I don’t— Oh, sweet Jesus Christ.’

 

She banked the ship, desperately, knowing the pattern was unreachable now.
There are thousands of them.
An entire Zajinet fleet was looping towards them: too many vessels to count.
Tricked me, the bastards.

 

‘Ah, Claude, I’m sorry. I ran just where they expected me to.’

 

‘It’s been my honour, Admiral.’

 

‘Mine also, Pilot.’

 

Ro turned to join battle.

 

‘Weapons armed.’

 

Knowing she could not win.

 

 

The fleet was vast and unbeatable, but the trio who had chased her here ... Perhaps Ro could take at least one of them with her.

 

Best I can do.

 

In the seat beside her, Chalou gasped and wheezed, fighting for breath.

 

It’s over for both of us.

 

Ro bowed her head, deep into interface. Her vessel leaped forward and accelerated. Violet lightning flared so Ro -
avoid!
- slammed her ship to one side and Chalou groaned -
again -
and then something came out of the golden void moving faster than she would have thought possible.

 

##Hi, Mom. How’s this for a role reversal?##

 

‘Dirk?’

 

The bronze ship blasted the centre Zajinet vessel before the alien pilot had registered the new ship’s sudden appearance. The other two Zajinet craft peeled off to either side.

 

##Hang on!##

 

‘No. Shit…’

 

Ro enabled ship-to-ship transmission.

 

++Dirk? What the hell is going on? Get out of here!++

 

Desperate, she glanced at the Zajinet fleet. Impossible to fight.

 

##Bastards had a trace on you. But
I
was tracing
them.
Ha!##

 

Up ahead, the tree-like pattern scintillated. Dirk’s ship was glowing.

 

##Stand by for grappling.##

 

++No! I’ve got a ...++

 

Impact.

 

I’ve got a passenger on board.

 

The shock hammered into her.

 

No...

 

An awful choking sound rose from Chalou’s throat. Darkness pressed in on Ro, and she struggled, as her vision tunnelled, to retain consciousness. Dirk’s ship, locked to hers, was using its momentum to carry them both along a fast geodesic, confounding the enemy fleet but not for long. Heading for the glowing pattern.

 

‘Damn
...’

 

It was too late to fight it.

 

Claude, my friend.

 

Too late for him.

 

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