Vigilante (24 page)

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Authors: Laura E. Reeve

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Vigilante
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“That’s physical chemistry. He also shook the world with his theories of
entropy and probability.”
“I thought you mentioned brains. He also worked in biochemistry?” Matt
took another small sip and went back to watching the display.
“No, the idea of a Boltzmann brain came much later, though it’s based
upon his ideas of probability. The theory is...” David Ray’s eyes closed and Matt thought he’d
fallen asleep, but he suddenly opened his eyes and continued with renewed vigor. “Anything
might spontaneously come into being even though it has a minute probability of doing do. So
intelligence might pop into existence on its own, rather than evolving or developing.”
“Yeah, I vaguely remember that from my cosmology.” Matt scratched his
nose. It didn’t seem relevant to mention he’d almost flunked the subject. “But the theory is
about intelligence rather than life, right? And that sort of intelligence isn’t supposed to
happen until billions and billions of years have passed, toward the end of our
universe.”
“That’s the thingk about probabililility.” David Ray’s words were
slurring, hindering his clipped enunciation. His eyes twinkled and he took another hefty gulp
of liquor. “Just because somthingk isn’t
probabable
, doesn’t mean
it can’t happen, even in the first seconds of the universe.”
“Why don’t you close your eyes,” Matt said in a soothing voice.
David Ray did exactly that, continuing to mutter
incomprehensibly.
Matt sighed and stared at the visual display, which he set at high
magnification. He was tired and sleepy from the low oxygen content in the air. He watched the
blinking lights of the buoy and they became mesmerizing. Perhaps if he closed his eyes . . . at
the edge of the display, a flare of heat and light changed the picture.
“Whoa!” He sat upright, his heart racing. “Lower display-two’s
magnification by ten and pan right. Stop!”
David Ray opened his eyes at Matt’s outburst and looked at the display
in puzzlement. “Air’s nothin’ dere.”
Matt’s lungs labored and he squinted at the display, feeling dizzy. With
effort, he slowed his panting. He was sure something had set off the mines in a distinctly
bloblike area. He wished he had the instrumentation available on the
Aether’s Touch
.
“Increase magnification by ten. Again.” Matt definitely got a sense of
distortion from that area of the channel.
“We might be looking at some sort of stealth technology,” Matt
said.
“Wishful tinkin’—you’re hallucinatink.” David Ray shut his eyes
again.
“I should try a distress call. Perhaps tell them that we see
them.”
“Ever’one’ll hear ya.” David Ray was reminding him the broadcast was
omnidirectional, meaning the isolationists on the
Pilgrimage III
would hear his distress call.
Matt chewed on this complication for a moment. Sure, it hurt his ego
that the criminals who took over the generational ship would hear his pleas for help, but David
Ray might be making a different point. Don’t give away a stealth arrival, you idiot, provided
one even exists!
Matt eventually settled for broadcasting, “To all ships in the area, we
require emergency assistance under the Phaistos Humanitarian Directives. Our coordinates are—”
He added their sun-centered coordinates, which everyone understood inside a newly opened solar
system. He would have liked to add something like,
This means you, silent
ship in buoy arrival channel
, but David Ray was correct in his caution. Even if he
couldn’t articulate well, he was thinking more clearly than Matt.
“Useless,” David Ray muttered after Matt recorded the message and set up
a repeating broadcast.
“Maybe.” Matt watched the display hopefully, but nothing changed. His
eyelids kept crashing down and time seemed to flit by between his evaluations of the display. A
half hour passed. Then an hour.
His heart was laboring on full thrust and he was beginning to identify
the subtle effects of hypoxia, which could cause anything from irrational decisions, even
hallucinations, to gently passing—had he just seen a mine explode on the display?
He squinted. There was nothing on the magnified view of the arrival
channel, not even the distortion he’d thought he’d seen. It was ridiculous to imagine a stealth
ship coming to their rescue. That kind of technology wasn’t possible for N-space-capable ships.
He would have pounded his fists in frustration, if he only had the energy.
“Nice to know you, Matthew Journey.” David Ray’s grin was crooked, his
eyes shut, as he obviously planned his final words.
“Likewise, David Ray Pilgrimage.” The lights in the module seemed too
bright and his head felt as if it were going to split open from a headache, but he was too
sleepy to care. His world was dark again.
Damn it, eyelids, open
up
. He wondered where Ari was—
Wake up, Matt
—this was how
Cipher had killed that guy on Karthage Point.
Ari, I hope you’re alive and
safe
.
The module didn’t so much shudder as jiggle. It felt as if it had
suddenly settled in a bowl of gelatin. The comm light on the module control panel flared
green.
“I acknowledge the emergency call from
module-two-zero-nine-eight-separated-from-
Pilgrimage
. I am
preparing to connect in good faith, under Phaistos Humanitarian Directives.” The voice
broadcasting inside the module was neither male nor female, and lacked a certain indescribable
human vibrancy. Some would say it lacked soul.
“Oh, Gaia. It’s Minoan.” With all his swearing and cursing, Matt always
reserved the name of the Supreme Heart of All Holy Avatars for prayer, as in:
Gaia, thank you so very, very much for saving us and I’m grateful, but did you have to
send aliens?
He looked at David Ray, whose eyes were bright and surprisingly
alert.
“At least they have good timing.” David Ray grinned.
Matt looked at their air mixture display. The Minoans needed better than
good timing; the oxygen level was in the red.
 
It was Ariane’s duty to see to Colonel Dokos’s body, ensuring the proper
military protocols were followed. She rolled Dokos onto her back and quickly removed all rank,
ribbons, and medals from the uniform. She set these aside, then removed the name tag that said
DOKOS and, after applying her thumbprint to the back, pushed up Dokos’s sleeve. She slid the
edge of the name tag into the implant receptor on the dead woman’s forearm.
Behind the divider came the sounds of Garnet talking in low tones to
Varra, who was trying to recover from a bout of hysteria. Not that Ariane faulted her behavior,
because most Autonomist citizens wouldn’t be able to cope with this, especially those too young
to remember the war.
Sabina and Dr. Lowry were soberly watching Ariane. When the edges of the
name tag glowed with light, Lowry asked, “What are you doing?”
“I’m downloading information from her implant into the tag, which has to
get back to AFCAW. My thumbprint has been logged as the recorder of her death.”
“Doesn’t that violate all sorts of Autonomist privacy law?” Dr. Lowry
had apparently learned much from her work on Priamos.
“Not in this case.” The name tag stopped glowing and Ariane disconnected
it. “This can only happen if the implant records brain death. Besides, this process encrypted
both her implant and this tag. Only certain AFCAW personnel can decrypt it.”
Ariane pocketed the name tag and stood, looking down at Colonel Dokos.
She knew how painful stunning felt, so she couldn’t hope that Dokos hadn’t suffered before
death came. She stepped back and saluted, the last rite of respect for a soldier.
A soldier who was executed without any chance of defending herself
. Beside
Ariane, Dr. Lowry and Sabina put their hands on their hearts and bowed their heads.
After she brought her arm down, she glanced at the body bag, thrown
inside the room so fast they never saw the person behind the door. Obviously, they were
supposed to prepare the body.
“I can’t get her in the bag myself. Can you help me?” She turned to Dr.
Lowry, who blanched.
“No, I can’t. I’ve never touched—” The young woman backed away, hands
held up.
“I’ll help,” Sabina said.
Ariane held her gaze, looking for derision or disrespect in her eyes,
but seeing none. Knowing she had to put aside her resentments for later, Ariane nodded curtly
and let Sabina help her.
After sealing the body bag, they had joined Garnet and Varra on the
other side of the partition when the door opened again. It was Emery.
“Sit against the wall,” he ordered, gesturing with his flechette
weapon.
If he’d showed up with only a stunner, Ariane was angry enough to have
tried jumping him—and that meant she wasn’t thinking rationally. She tried to suppress her rage
as she moved over to the bench.
Cool down
, she repeated
internally.
Emery then stepped forward, followed by two men, one of whom had
accompanied him when he executed Colonel Dokos. They went behind the partition.
“Have you finished your rites?” Emery asked.
No one answered him and he didn’t seem eager to look anyone in the eyes.
Instead, he told the men behind the partition to hurry up.
“Emery. I’m on urgent business from Abram.” The quiet words came from a
man standing in the door. Again, this was someone who might be Emery’s brother. Significant
inbreeding must be going on somewhere, although the look exchanged between the two was anything
but brotherly, by Ariane’s assessment. This time, there was a distinct difference because the
man in the door wore Terran civilian clothes. He might even have the same tailor as
Wescott.
“What do you want, Tahir?” After a quick look over his shoulder, Emery
brought his attention back to the women, much to Ariane’s disappointment. She noted Tahir
carried only a stunner.
The two men carried out the body bag. After Tahir stepped aside to let
them out, he came into the room. He addressed the women directly. “Which one of you is the
Destroyer of Worlds
?”
Uh-oh
. As she heard the title the Minoans
had given her and her other crew members during the publicized Pax Minoica negotiations,
Ariane’s face went wooden. She did exactly as the other women: She looked puzzled and exchanged
questioning glances with the others on the bench. She saw Sabina and Garnet doing the same,
although they had to be better actresses. Being Terrans, how long would they protect her
identity?
“These are women, you idiot, or haven’t you noticed?” Emery’s words came
through a clenched jaw. He appeared to be grinding his teeth.
“Women fought on both sides of the war, and almost everyone watched the
initial signing of Pax Minoica. Besides, we have the verified word of a Terran State Prince,”
Tahir said.
Ariane felt a small movement from Sabina, who sat at her right. Emery
and Tahir, however, seemed locked in silent argument and didn’t notice.
“Then he’s fooled you with his body language or—whatever. Give it up,
none of
them
could be a warrior.”
Tahir didn’t respond to Emery’s jeer. Instead, he pulled his stunner out
and pointed at each woman in turn, as if considering her candidacy for the title. Varra was on
the end and she was obviously too young. Then came Garnet, but she was Terran. So was Dr.
Lowry. The stunner pointed at Ariane and hesitated, but from her outward appearance, she was
also too young to have been in the war. That left Sabina, also a Terran, who wouldn’t have been
attacking a Terran world during the war.
“The guilty one should step forward.” With his calm voice, Tahir didn’t
seem particularly suited for this job.
Emery sneered. “If you’re so sure you’re looking for a woman, why don’t
you have a
name
?”
“Not enough time.” A flash of disgust flitted across Tahir’s face, and
the women saw the telltale grimace.
Meaning, not enough time before Parmet broke.
Parmet’s mind might be mush right now, particularly if he’s gibbering about me
.
Sabina must have come to the same conclusions. She stood and calmly
said, “Enough of this. I’m the person you want.”
Ariane tried to keep her jaw from dropping open. She glanced at Garnet,
who had a questioning look on her face. Beside Garnet, Varra looked puzzled, perhaps not having
glommed on to the meaning of the title. She might be one of the few who had never watched the
momentous treaty-signing ceremony, captured forever in crystal. Dr. Lowry, on the other hand,
looked at Sabina with shock.
“Ridiculous.” Emery looked even angrier, if that were possible. “We know
you’re the wife of the State Prince and the mother of his only son.”
“Perhaps
you
have a naive understanding of
the complexities of Terran politics.” Sabina’s voice was cold. “A State Prince must heartily
support Pax Minoica and what better way than to show forgiveness through a marriage contract?
After all, our marriages are political implements first, breeding licenses second, and finally
means of establishing affiliations and distributing wealth. The State Prince was waiting for
the right moment to go public regarding my background.”

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