Loyalties (HMCS Borealis Book 3) Read online

  "Not at all. It's rare for a person to only have one problem in their life at a time."

  She was looking toward the window, eyes distant as if she hadn't heard him. "I just…"

  Elan sat and waited, resolving to be patient. When he'd first met her, she had a tendency to speak first, and think later. Now she seemed to spend time thinking, getting her ideas in order before speaking. He wasn't sure if it was his influence, or Palani cultural influence in general, or something else.

  She took a deep breath and turned her eyes toward him. "The Ritual of the Hot Tub—"

  "The Ritual of Cleansing?"

  "—Call it what you will, but it seems so damned decadent. We're going through the motions of normal life — normal for a Prophet and a Chosen One, anyway — even though the Horlan are coming."

  "Normal is important," said Elan. "It helps people feel like things are under control. It gives them an anchor in their lives. Routine can be helpful."

  "So why does it seem like everyone is in denial?"

  "What do you mean, Heather?"

  "What do I mean? Really?" She rolled her eyes at him. "You too? Damn it Elan, the Horlan are coming. We should be doing more than just going through the normal routine. We should be… I don't know, we should be pushing the people to prepare, or something."

  "Like what?"

  "For fuck's sake! Please don't be like that with me, Elan. Don't treat me like an idiot."

  Elan raised his hands defensively. "No, no. Wait. Heather, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound condescending. When I say, 'like what', I'm being literal. I honestly don't know what else we should be doing."

  She waved one hand toward the window. "What about the Palani fleet?"

  "It's left over from the last war. Most ships are seven hundred years old. Everything that can still fight, is ready. Everything that can't fight, will get skeleton crews. Enough to move the ships, enough to get in the way of the Horlan, or to ram them."

  "So why are they sitting here? Why don't they sail out and fight the Horlan?"

  "Because no one knows where they are right now. Not exactly. The Horlan split into groups, then re-form into larger fleets, then split again. We wouldn't know where to send our fleet. And even if we did know where to go, we wouldn't send them, because it would leave the Five Worlds undefended."

  "So," she sighed, "we wait."

  Elan nodded. He didn't like it either. The waiting was the worst part. It drained people; you could see it on their faces, and especially in their eyes. The enemy drew nearer, and they sat and waited. "We wait," he agreed. "We wait together, and as we do we go about our normal routine. Once we've prepared as much as we can, waiting is all we have left. Life goes on."

  Heather shook her head. "I just…" She paused, then tried again. "I wish…" She seemed to deflate, the red draining from her face as she sighed. Her hands were caressing her belly, moving in circles. "Life goes on," she said quietly. "I guess."

  "You know," he said, trying to sound more upbeat. "You did a great job today, reading the verses of Elinth."

  She relaxed a little, as if allowing him to distract her. "Thank you. It's getting easier. I actually understand some of it now."

  "The people have started to…" he hesitated. "'Warm up' to you. That's the saying, right?"

  Heather smirked. "It is. Seems silly when you say it."

  "Everything sounds silly when I say it," said Elan. He smiled. "But I am being serious. The media is still talking about your latest visit to the art gallery. It was unannounced and unscheduled, and a rare source of positive excitement."

  "The people at the gallery, they seemed surprised that I would take an interest in Palani art." She shrugged. "Don't know why people would be surprised. I really liked the cloth art. It's like origami, but with stiff fabric. What's it called?"

  "Vastra," said Elan.

  "It's really nice; much more colourful than I expected. The ones that move, they were awesome."

  "Anda-Vastra. Would you like to try it? We could contact the Craft Elders, and ask one to come and show you."

  Heather smiled. "Maybe we should do that. But first, I need to teach the Palani about winter sports."

  "What do you mean? There is Tuaan, and Kensa—"

  "Bah," said Heather. "The first one I couldn't make head nor tails of, and the other one is just like curling, only slower."

  Elan laughed as he understood. "I see. Can I assume that the sport we need is a little more… fast tempo?"

  Heather was nodding, a wide smile on her face. "First, we'll need ice skates…"

  CHAPTER 7

  Eric sat up, swinging his legs out over the side of the folding cot.

  It was quiet down here in the cargo hold; apart from the constant whine of the engines, and the occasional random creak or rattle that was common on an older ship, there was surprisingly little noise. Little enough, that he could hear the sounds coming from the upper deck: Jerry and Maya were arguing. Again. Eric couldn't make out what they were saying, but the muffled voices told him enough. She clearly had the final say in everything that happened on the ship, but he had plenty of opinions and no fear of sharing them.

  A few crates had been stacked around the corner of the cargo hold, to give the illusion of privacy. Over the top of the crates, Eric could see the top of Sap's head. He was sitting, leaning forward, probably working away at his datapad.

  "Hey," said Eric, pushing himself to his feet. He rubbed his eyes as he walked out to join Sap.

  "Hey," came Sap's quiet voice. He was sitting on a crate, datapad in his lap.

  "Anything good?"

  "No," said Sap. He glanced up at Eric before returning his attention to the datapad. "I still have a connection to my homeworld, but the network is under strain. Data is delayed. There is some discussion about whether the Horlan are accessing our public networks."

  Eric leaned up against the bulkhead, stifling a yawn. "I wouldn't be surprised. They're not stupid."

  "Agreed," said Sap. "Though I have my doubts about the Horlan being the cause of network delays. Billions of people are constantly on the network at the moment, trying to find news, contact loved ones, make arrangements. Some congestion would hardly be a surprise."

  "How about you, Sap? Did you send a note to your bosses?"

  "I did. I sent a form, indicating my current situation, and asking for instructions. My request has been categorised as low priority. I am now in the queue at number three million, four hundred thousand, give or take."

  "So what do you do while you wait to hear back from them?"

  Sap frowned at his datapad. "Another data delay. This is becoming problematic." He looked up at Eric. "My last instructions were to stay with my human liaison — you — and assist the humans in their war efforts. So I will continue to do that."

  Eric smiled. He thought he had been the one following Sap, not the other way around.

  Sap was watching him. "A penny for your thoughts, Eric?" Sap grinned, showing his long rows of narrow, serrated teeth. He got so much enjoyment out of using English slang.

  "Just a penny, Sap? I guess that's a fair price. I was thinking about the day we bought that little coffee plantation."

  "Ah," said Sap. "A happy day. I was looking forward to many years there. In time, I hoped to develop the perfect blend of coffee."

  "I still don't know if you would've been able to market it to your people."

  "True," admitted Sap. "Regulatory approval was turning out to be difficult. But I still think it was a worthy cause. My people could use some — how do you say it — 'full-bodied, mountain-grown taste'."

  Eric stared at Sap in wonderment. "I try to imagine," he said slowly, "billions of Dosh, all blissed out at the same time."

  "I do too, Eric. Perhaps someday, when this is war is over. It is something to look forward to."

  "Yeah. Someday." He sighed. "Any other news?"

  Sap returned to his datapad, stroking one red finger across the screen. "Apparently, the Horlan are
pushing hardest right where we are now, in this area of human space. They are crossing the Burnt Worlds as well, toward Palani space, but are doing so at a slower pace. Perhaps they are being cautious with the Palani."

  "What about your own people?"

  "The Dosh are not yet threatened directly. Based on the current direction of movement, the Horlan would have to push completely through the Palani to reach Dosh space. Until then, my people have decided to assist the humans."

  "Well, that's welcome news."

  Maya's voice came down from above. "Good morning, gentlemen." She descended the ladder from the catwalk to the crew quarters, wearing the same battered green leather jacket as always.

  "Hello Maya," said Eric.

  Coming off the bottom of the ladder, she wiped her hands on her pants. "Did you two sleep well? I know a fold-up cot in a cargo hold isn't exactly the Ritz, but it's what we have."

  "No," said Eric, "it's fine. It's kind of quiet down here. The only real sound is the engines, and I'm used to that."

  "Agreed," said Sap, not looking up.

  Maya's eyes quickly scanned the crates. She pointed at the one Sap was sitting on. "That crate's full of ration packs. Mostly human, but some Jaljal as well. They've got those things where you pull the tab and they cook themselves. Help yourselves."

  "Thanks," said Eric.

  "No problem. But leave the Jaljal ones with the purple symbols. Those ones are awesome, and they're mine."

  Sap cocked his head. "You like the knax? Do you know what it's made from?"

  Maya held up one hand, shaking her head. "No. And I don't want to know. It's probably repulsive."

  "That's one word for it, I suppose," said Sap. He went back to his datapad.

  Eric held up a hand. "So Maya, is there any chance of getting us to New Halifax?"

  "No," she said without hesitation. "Not soon. At maximum speed, that's almost a week away for us."

  Maya must have seen the disappointment on his face, because she quickly continued. "Don't worry, we'll be headed back to the Home Sector soon enough. We'll find somewhere to drop you off, probably New Halifax if the navy is still letting civilian ships dock. But first, we need to do what we came here for."

  "Loot and pillage," said Eric. He sounded more bitter than he intended.

  The smile fell from Maya's face, but she seemed to stick one back on. "I guess it looks like that. But I've got debts, and this is how I'm going to be able to pay them off. If they take my ship, it's over for me. I know millions of lives are being turned upside down, but there's nothing I can do about it. If I can get my own life back, and maybe have enough credits left over, I'll be in a position to do some good."

  Eric thought she sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as him. He heard Sap snort, a quiet huff that he didn't think Maya could hear. He just shrugged. "It's your ship, right? You're the captain, so what you say goes. I know how it works."

  Maya looked disappointed. "Well, I guess we understand each other."

  Eric decided to steer somewhere else. "So, Captain Maya, where are we headed next?"

  "Pegasus Five. Ever been there?"

  "Can't say I have. Heard of it, though."

  She nodded. "Peg Five is being evacuated. The colonists should all be gone by now. According to my sources, the Horlan will arrive tonight. So we've got a few hours to stop in and help ourselves."

  "I understand," said Eric. "What do you want us to do?"

  Maya pointed at Sap. "First and foremost, our new favourite Mechanician will make sure we can take off again." She aimed her finger at Eric. "As for you, you'll be helping us while we go collecting."

  "Got it. And then—"

  There was a loud rattling overhead. The whine of the FTL engines began to wind down, replaced by the rushing roar of the sublight engines. Almost immediately, Jerry's voice crackled from the loudspeakers. "Maya," came the tinny voice. "We're at Peg Five. The Horlan have already been here."

  * * *

  There were no windows in the Nova Cat's cargo hold, but Eric's imagination was quick to serve up images of what lay below them. With the engines howling to slow their descent to the surface, he could barely hear Jerry's voice over the intercom. He was saying something about finding a clear spot to land at what was left of the starport.

  Maya had insisted on landing. Jerry had argued against it; if the Horlan had already been here, there wouldn't be anything left that was of value. But Eric had a feeling that Maya's desire to land had little to do with finding valuables. He felt it too, and Sap had suggested the same: it was curiosity, a need to see the fate that could have been theirs. Theirs but for a few minutes, or some expression of the universe's capricious nature.

  The ship landed unevenly, and took a moment to level itself. As Jerry descended the ladder from the cockpit, Eric stood with Sap and Maya at the rear ramp, waiting for it to open.

  "Ready?" asked Maya. She didn't seem to be asking anyone in particular. After a moment's hesitation, she pressed her finger against a wall console. A sharp hiss of air as the ramp unsealed, and it began to unfold itself down toward the ground. A crack of daylight formed along the top of the ramp.

  The first thing Eric smelled was the smoke. Acrid, black smoke entered into the cargo hold as the ramp lowered, revealing a black pall that hung over the starport.

  The terminal buildings were in ruins, their walls and roofs bent upward as if hands had pulled them apart. Lumps of stone and building debris littered the landing pad.

  A second, more sinister smell reached Eric, and he put his hand over his mouth as his stomach lurched upward. Burned flesh. He glanced over at Sap, as if to confirm that he smelled it too. Sap's eyes were downcast; he seemed like he was trying to avoid looking out at all.

  Something compelled Eric to move forward, to step down the ramp onto the debris-strewn landing pad. He heard the others descending behind him, their steps sounding as reluctant as his own.

  Portions of the terminal walls were still visible, but most of the starport was gone. Ripped up and discarded, like a weed torn out by its roots then dropped by a careless gardener. Pieces of wreckage still smouldered; trails of black smoke drifted away across the cratered landing pad.

  A short distance in front of him, some of the wreckage didn't look like part of the starport. Eric walked toward it, picking his way around the scattered lumps of stone and metal. Sooty black scorch-marks stained the pad, amid the burned remnants of a small ship. The stench of seared flesh was stronger here, and even as he approached, Eric knew what it meant. There were glistening stains on the ground; spatters of deep crimson among the black scorch marks. Then he saw a lump, misshapen and mangled. He didn't recognise it until he'd taken another step. It was a human arm, torn off at the shoulder, its hand still attached. Eric kept walking, not even knowing why, until he was standing next to the largest part of the ship's wreckage.

  The port side outer hull was peeled open and lying on its side, its interior bulkheads open to the air and smouldering, leaking black smoke into the dirty sky. Half of the cockpit was nearby, nose up on the ground. Tangled bits of wiring and conduit were scattered around him. There was more dried blood — most of it spattered, some of it pooled — on the ground near the wrecked hull. More pieces of… meat. Entrails. Eric turned away.

  Sap was right behind him, his red face heavily mottled with yellow. In one hand, Sap held his datapad; with the other, he reached out and touched Eric's arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It distracted Eric, reminding him he was still alive, even among all the death.

  "Eric," said Sap.

  Eric was having trouble finding his voice. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth he might scream, or vomit, or —

  "Eric," repeated Sap, his voice soft and soothing. "Focus on me for a moment."

  Eric nodded. He still didn't trust himself to open his mouth. He wanted to run, but still felt the gentle squeeze of Sap's hand on his arm. Turning, he looked into Sap's green eyes.

  "Most o
f the ship is gone, Eric. Did you notice the engines were missing? And the reactor, and the computers. The ship was pulled apart… no, a better word would be 'picked apart'." Sap gave his arm another squeeze. "The people, too. Most of them aren't here."

  "So what's left is like crumbs after a meal," said Eric. He kept his eyes on Sap, not wanting to look at anything else around him.

  "Much like that," said Sap. "The Horlan must have arrived while the evacuation was still in progress. They harvested the ships trying to leave. They harvested the starport as well, and most of the buildings in the colony." Sap nodded toward the distance, over Eric's shoulder, but Eric didn't turn to look. "Most of them are torn down to street level. Taken away."

  Sap lifted up his datapad to show him something, but Eric couldn't concentrate enough to understand the display. "Entire forests. Ripped up and taken away. Everything within twenty kilometres of the colony."

  A thought had begun to form in Eric's mind, and he frowned as he nudged it to the front. "Wait. I thought the Horlan harvested entire worlds. That's where the Burnt Worlds came from."

  "That is correct. When they invaded seven centuries ago, they always harvested the entire planet. All its technology and all its biomass. And then they usually sterilised the planet with radiation. Whatever their reasons were, they were known for being—" Sap paused, as if searching for a word. "Meticulous? Thorough?"

  "But now they're just harvesting the area around colonies." He'd distracted himself trying to think, but a deep breath brought the stench of death back into his nostrils. He fought back the bile that tried to lurch upwards. "Something has changed."

  "Indeed," said Sap. He turned away, pulling at Eric's arm. "Come. There's nothing for us here."

  Nova Cat wasn't far away, and as they walked toward it they could see Maya and Jerry sitting on the ramp. Maya had her knees drawn up against her chest, with her arms wrapped around her legs.

  "They don't appear interested in looting," said Sap.

  "Yeah. I guess it's easier when it's victimless."