The Others Read online

  She figured she had two chances in three, which all things considered, wasn’t too bad.

  She held her breath as she lunged the last few centimeters, almost feeling the bullets she knew were coming. The knife was almost there, so close to the guard’s chest she couldn’t see the space between the two.

  Then, she felt it. The weapon stopped for an instant, the point slicing through skin and muscle…and stopping on bone. But just for an instant. She felt the blade slide along the rib, and she pushed it with all the strength she could muster, shoving it to the side, directing it for the soldier’s heart. The man was fighting her, his hand up, landing on her, a hard blow across her head that almost distracted her. But she was in a fight to the death, and she was a veteran killer. She hung on, her teeth grinding as she jammed the knife deeper…and the guard’s body began to slide down. She shoved the blade one last time, and then she pulled it out hard, a fountain of blood erupting as she did.

  The guard fell to the floor, landing with a lifeless thud.

  Ciara’s eyes darted around, checking for any other enemies. But there was nothing.

  She slipped inside the reactor room, moving first to one panel and then to another. She didn’t have much time, she knew that. If the surveillance systems hadn’t sounded an alert yet, they would soon. She had no idea what reporting schedule the guards had been on, but when they didn’t check in, that, too, would trigger an unwelcome intrusion.

  She flopped down in one of the control chairs, her eyes scanning the screen in front of her as her fingers moved over the keyboard with blinding quickness. She wasn’t supposed to have the control codes for the reactor, of course, not so much because her position hadn’t been high enough as she’d never had a need to know. But Sector Nine had trained her well, and she knew all sorts of things she wasn’t supposed to know.

  She scanned the text scrolling down the screen, watching with her stomach in her throat at each step. Her codes to the outside entry had still been valid, but that was no guarantee her reactor passwords would work. But one after the other, the system accepted them and pushed her onto the next screen. She was pretty sure she could blow the whole reactor, but that would cause an explosion that would level half of Liberte City, likely including her safe house and the Confederation embassy. That option was pure suicide. Besides, if she truly intended to make a play for power after Villieneuve’s death, it would help if she’d only killed thousands, and not millions, in her attack.

  The ignition systems, on the other hand, used fission reactions, small and controlled…and vastly lower yield than the fusion that powered the entire complex and its defense net. She could trigger an overload in one of those. She wasn’t sure what yield the resulting explosion would produce, but she guessed somewhere between ten and thirty kilotons. Enough to obliterate the Hall, and to kill Gaston Villieneuve and any of his closest allies who happened to be present…but with any luck, only those within five hundred or a thousand meters around the government structure would be killed or seriously injured.

  The explosion would be a dirty one, especially since she didn’t have time to properly shut down the main system, but it was the best she could do.

  The radiation would add to the death toll, of course, and the cleanup would be expensive, but that was all incremental as far as she was concerned.

  She typed quickly, holding her focus even as every few seconds she thought she heard something. It was just nerves, she knew…but she was also well aware that, eventually, someone would come, probably a whole platoon of Foudre Rouge with guns blazing. She knew she had to finish, and get the hell out, but she could only work her way through the security systems so quickly. One mistake could put the whole system into lockdown.

  She pressed a series of keys, entering an authorization code, not hers, of course, but that of another highly placed Sector Nine official. She wasn’t supposed to have it, but she’d used her…skills…to obtain it some time ago, along with a considerable amount of other useful information.

  Finally, everything was ready. She set the countdown to ten minutes. Even as she did it, she told herself it wasn’t enough time, that she couldn’t get out of the building and far enough away so quickly. But any longer was just asking for someone to discover what she’d done and disarm the sequence. She didn’t want to die in nuclear fire running away from the Hall, but she didn’t want Villieneuve’s thugs hunting her down either…and this was her only real chance to stop that.

  She pressed a key, activating the countdown. Her eyes were glued to the screen, watching the first few seconds tick away. Then she typed another code, and locked the system down. Anyone who got there soon enough to realize what she’d done would have to spend two or three minutes, at least, trying to get into the system. That could be the difference of success or failure for her plan.

  She leapt up from the seat and moved quickly out into the corridor, tracing her steps back to the old sub-basement. She hadn’t brought a chronometer of any kind, so she didn’t have an accurate measure of how much time she had left. Just the rough countdown echoing in her head.

  She pulled her pistol from her bag, and tossed it aside as she climbed back out onto the small access street. She moved as quickly as she could out into the crowds on the main avenue. As she walked away from the Hall, she couldn’t help but look all around her at the people.

  People I am about to kill.

  She’d rarely been plagued by guilt, even with the many—admittedly terrible—things she’d done, but something nagged at her as she made her escape. It seemed…wrong…to race away without warning the people all around her. But that was out of the question. It would only assure that she, herself, would not escape.

  Besides, no one would have believed her anyway.

  She couldn’t save anyone else…or she wouldn’t take the risks to try to save them. Whatever. It didn’t matter. The only question that remained was, could she get far enough away in time.

  She counted down, knowing her own estimate would get less and less accurate as the explosion approached. When she was close to the end, she would find someplace to hide, some kind of shelter that would provide a level of protection. But when to do that? At one minute? Or was her mental countdown off by more than that?

  Ciara had her own sort of courage, different perhaps than that of a warrior in battle, but she’d always been able to keep her cool in dangerous situations, and this one was no exception. She felt as though she might projectile vomit, but she didn’t. She just kept pressing forward, her pace gradually increasing, pushing herself as hard as she could.

  Counting down as she ran.

  * * *

  “Wipe them…all of them. And after they’re clean, throw them in the furnace. I’ve already taken care of the truly sensitive information, but there’s no sense taking any chance of giving a gift to the Union authorities. They’ll be in here thirty seconds after we leave, and they’ll tear the place to the foundations looking for intel.” Kerevsky hesitated, then he added, “For that matter, I want all these walls opened up and searched, and I wanted detectors run along the exterior. There’ve been a century of Confederation diplomats here, and who knows what any of those fools hid someplace. Anything like that’s probably old and useless now, but we’re not taking any chances. If an ambassador seventy years ago stashed a note he wrote to his Montmirailian mistress, I want it found and destroyed. Understood?”

  “Yes, your Excellency.” Kerevsky was always a bit put off by the form of address of a Confederation ambassador. It had always seemed pompous and out of place in a nation that called itself a republic. Besides, though he bore the full credentials of an ambassador, Kerevsky was really there as a spy.

  And a rogue spy at that, one with no real authorization to do anything, who’d nevertheless first helped plan a coup, and then backed an assassination attempt on the Union head of state. Kerevsky had always been a bit of a loose cannon, but he’d never so blatantly exceeded his authority before. He wasn’t sure if his feelings
for Ciara were to blame, or simply his realization that the Union would always be a deadly threat to the Confederation, at least until something decisive changed all that. Perhaps that had become less tolerable in a time that included threats from coreward.

  Decisive…like Villieneuve’s death?

  He knew the Union leader was insane, and also a genius, but that didn’t mean whoever replaced him would be any easier to deal with. Though he couldn’t imagine the First Citizen’s successor could be much worse.

  Still, he couldn’t quite piece together how he’d gotten so deeply involved, so far into the machinations against the Union leadership. He was sure he’d covered his tracks, or almost sure. But the fact that the entire diplomatic mission was being expelled strongly suggested that Villieneuve suspected him of involvement. The First Citizen would no doubt have arrested him if he’d had real proof, but not even Villieneuve was likely to commit an act of war without ironclad evidence. Still, Kerevsky knew he was going to face the music when he got back. Gary Holsten would tear him apart, there was no doubt about that. The only question was, would he stop there, or would he issue a report to the Senate…and open the door to formal charges.

  Perhaps even for treason. I could have started a war here, so that might not be pushing things too far…

  His thoughts drifted back to Ciara. He wasn’t sure what would happen if she succeeded, if she managed to put a bullet in Gaston Villieneuve’s head. Would the word spread quickly? Or would some deputy slam a wall of silence over the whole thing and attempt to seize power himself, before anyone knew the First Citizen was dead?

  Then, suddenly, the room shook, and a large panel attached to the far wall came loose and fell with a loud crash. Kerevsky turned and raced into the next room, and as he did, he could hear the thunderous explosion. It sounded like it was coming from just across town, near the Union government complexes.

  It didn’t make sense. What could have caused such a massive…

  He stopped cold as his eyes moved toward the large window in the room. Or what had been a window. Now it was just an opening in the wall surrounded by shattered glass. And in the distance, a small, winding tower of smoke and flame, rising up and forming an all too familiar form.

  A mushroom cloud.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Planet Calpharon

  Sigma Nordlin IV

  Year of Renewal 267 (322 AC)

  “I know it will be some time, Admiral, until you hear from your government. While I remain hopeful that they will follow your urging and come to our aid, I have just received several disturbing reports.” Akella was clearly upset, as visibly shaken as Barron had seen the Hegemony leader. He didn’t know what she was about to tell him, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t like it.

  “I sent a number of scoutships to try to sneak around the enemy forces and make contact with the inhabited planets we were forced to…abandon. It was foolish, perhaps, and the loss ratio among the ships sent in was horrific. But I just had to know.”

  Barron nodded. He still saw the Hegemony as enemies to an extent, and his sympathies were limited by that fact. But he suspected he would have done the same thing in Akella’s place.

  “I wanted to determine the occupation conditions, and if possible, get word to the populations that they hadn’t been forgotten, that the fight has only just begun.”

  Yes…you would have done just what she did…

  “Were the ships able to get communiques through the enemy occupation forces?”

  “There were no enemy occupation forces. The scouts encountered vessels patrolling the enemy lines of communication, and many were destroyed in the resulting engagements. But there were no enemy ships around the occupied planets.” Akella paused, clearly struggling with what she was trying to say. “There were no occupied planets, at least none with any enemy forces present. Or any populations left. Nothing but barren wastelands, radioactive graveyards. They bombarded the planets, Tyler. The exterminated the entire populations, at least on the three worlds the scouts were able to reach.”

  Barron stood still, stunned at what he’d heard. The Hegemony had behaved reasonably well as occupiers, one of the few things that helped him imagine fighting at their side instead of against them. Akella’s people had compared well to the Foudre Rouge and Sector Nine. Life under Union occupation was far from pleasant for anyone.

  But an enemy that would wipe out entire civilian populations after they had surrendered, to no military gain? That was evil on a level he could barely grasp. His mind drifted to the Rim, to all the Confederation planets he’d seen. Cities, expansive valleys filled with farms, billions of men and women working, playing, living.

  Until the bombs came. Until death rained down on them all.

  His thoughts were vivid, so real he had to remind himself it hadn’t yet happened. But it could happen…unless the Others were defeated.

  “I don’t know what to say, Akella. Whatever happened in our past, neither of our people have ever engaged in that level of barbarity.” Barron felt the need to comfort her somehow, but he was too experienced a veteran to think anything would lessen her pain. He carried the guilt for thousands of his spacers lost in the various combats they’d fought, men and women for whom he’d been responsible, who’d looked up to him to lead them through. But Akella was mourning billions dead, and she was the leader to every one of them, the ultimate authority that had pulled back her forces, declared, no, we will not defend this system this planet. He’d come to know her well enough in his weeks on Calpharon to have a pretty good feeling for how deeply the news had cut into her.

  “It is war, Tyler. The realities of war against this enemy. I do not believe they intend to exterminate our entire population. They are here to enslave us, to force us to worship them as gods. At least, that is what the old records suggest. But it is clear now that they are more than prepared to commit genocide on worlds they deem to be inconvenient, or simply not worth the effort.” There was a coldness in her voice. Barron could feel her coming to terms with just the kind of fight her people faced.

  The fight we will face also…and, if the Senate doesn’t send the fleet out here…

  The room was silent for some time. Finally, Barron spoke, as much to break the eerie quiet as anything else. “You said ‘several disturbing reports?”

  “Yes. We were also able to update our scouting data on the enemy’s forces. They appear to be concentrating…and our analysis suggests a likely course.”

  Barron stood where he was, quiet, listening. But he already knew what she was going to say.

  “They’re on a direct line to Calpharon. They’re coming here.”

  * * *

  “I need to know the status of the scanner upgrades, and I want the absolute truth. Don’t massage me, don’t give me optimistic reports. Just tell be the hard facts.” Barron was standing in his office on Dauntless, as much because he’d been too restless to sit since Akella had shared her news. The reports of entire populations being wiped out were horrifying enough, but it was the news that the enemy fleet was massing and heading for Calpharon that really had him on edge. There were more than ten billion people on the Hegemony capital. What would they face if the enemy reached the system?

  He didn’t know what the Hegemony forces would do, but he was pretty sure they’d offer battle somewhere before the enemy reached their capital. That’s what he would have done in their place. And that fight was likely to happen well before he could hope for a response to his dispatches.

  “One-third of the systems have been installed, Admiral.” Atara Travis remained silent as Jarrod Simms gave his report to Barron. The young lieutenant had been given a big job, and a crucially important one, and he seemed to be handling it well…including perhaps the most daunting aspect of all. Standing in front of the legendary Admiral Barron and reporting in detail…and keep his shit together as he did.

  “Lieutenant, I believe the Hegemony fleet will be setting out from Calpharon soon. This is not to l
eave the room, but the enemy forces are currently massing and heading this way. The Hegemony commanders don’t discuss their strategy with me, but if I was in charge, I’d mount a defense somewhere along the enemy advance…well before they reach the capital.” Barron paused for a moment. That’s exactly what he’d done when the Hegemony fleet was approaching Megara. It had been his best effort, but it hadn’t saved the Confederation’s capital. He wasn’t sure he believed the Hegemony forces would fare any better. But he knew they had to try.

  “I want you to be ready to complete your work on the move. I know that will complicate things, but if the Hegemony high command consents, our fleet will move out with theirs. We are not authorized to conduct combat operations under our current rules of engagement, but we are here to gather information, and a chance to see the Hegemony and their enemy in battle is something we can’t pass up. We are heavily reliant on secondhand information right now, and we need some direct observation to confirm just how great a threat we may face.”

  Simms held Barron’s gaze, no small feat for an officer so young standing just half a meter from the great admiral. For an instant, uncertainty forced its way to his face. Barron ignored it. He’d put the officer in a spot, and he knew full well what he was asking was difficult, at least, if not almost impossible. He’d become used to Anya Fritz delivering on those impossible tasks for him, but it was no insult to say an officer wasn’t Fritz.

  No one was Anya Fritz…except Anya Fritz. The Confederation had never before seen an engineer like her, and Barron doubted very much it would soon see one again.