The Haunted Galaxy: Chapter 13
For a minute, the Corps just stood there, staring blankly at the two sages. All of them had phased off their armor upon landing except Green who had only removed his helmet. (White knew that his injury was still bothering him.) All of their faces expressed shock and yet somehow not shock. Though this was sudden, unexpected, terrible news--yet, in a way, it was just the sort of thing they had expected from Maxwell. Though even Maxwell had never tried something quite this audacious before.
“Are you sure?” asked Red, taking two steps forward. He seemed the most affected by the news. “Maybe there's some mistake--
Rothmar gave a sound more like an animal's growl than any human noise. “Do you think we would make a mistake about something like this?”
“Rothmar, please control yourself.” Zortan's voice seemed more tense and sharp than usual. “No,” he added, turning towards Red, “there is no mistake. She is gone.”
“This is--this--it just can't be.”
“How in the Cosmos did it happen?” Green spoke almost at the same time, and White couldn't decide from his voice whether he meant the question literally or rhetorically.
“Right.” Gold clenched his fist, as if to punctuate his words. “What kind of details can you give us? When did this happen and how? Did you actually see Maxwell--the Intimidator?”
Rothmar's frowned deepened. “Wait. Maxwell? You mean, you know this criminal?”
“We have clashed with him before.” Gold's voice was hard. “But I think this will be the last time.”
“You have clashed with him?” Rothmar's voice rose as he repeated the words. “You have fought him before? Then why didn't you do something to stop him then? Why would you let him go free so that he could do something like this--”
“Rothmar!” Zortan cut him off with an abrupt motion. “Please, Corps, forgive his agitation. We are both--very concerned--by her highness's danger. However, it is no time to give in to such emotion--there is still too much to be done. At any rate, none of this is your fault.”
Gold nodded. “I understand.” He paused for a moment and then spoke in a slightly lower voice. “However, we must take some responsibility for this fiasco. We've stopped many of Maxwell's attempted crimes, but we have never been able to capture him--even letting him slip through our fingers a few hours ago on Altayra Conaurah.”
Rothmar sprung a few steps forward. “You saw him a few hours ago? That would have been just before the kidnapping. You seem to know this criminal very well and to have seen him very recently. How did we know that you are not working with him yourself? How do we know that you may not have had a hand in the capture of her highness?”
Gold shrugged and spoke nonchalantly, though White noticed that he clenched his fist harder. “You don't. But since you called us here, I take it that you don't have the resources to track down Maxwell on your own. And without any other options, you'll have to trust us to help, won't you?”
“Anyway,” added Black, “we're the experts at fighting Maxwell by this point.”
Zortan spoke quickly. “We have no doubts about you, Corps. And while we have one--slight--err, hope from our side, I agree that you are our main hope for rescuing her highness. We will help you in any way we can.”
“So can you give us the details of her abduction?”
“There are few details to give. About an hour and a half ago, her highness was out here in the courtyard--she spends much of her time out here--when the Intimidator appeared, apparently flying out of the sky.”
“Much as you did,” added Rothmar, darkly. White couldn't decide if he really was suspicious of the Corps or was merely using this as a vent for his emotion.
“He used some kind of weapon to threaten her highness and force her to follow him.”
Gold frowned. “Follow him? You mean they left on foot?”
“Yes. None of the guards or servants dared challenge him for fear of endangering her highness.”
Green was fumbling with his hat. “Maxwell's exoskeleton give him the power of flight, but it seems probable that it would not have the power to carry both him and Valencia, so naturally they left on foot.”
“We sent out searchers, of course,” Zortan continued, “but so far we have picked up no sign of them.”
Gold nodded. “He probably had a ship hidden somewhere and escaped with the princess on that. Or he could have used his mechog, I suppose. Did he say anything to you--anything that would suggest his motive?”
Zortan seemed to hesitate for just a moment before he answered. “Not to us--we were not present at the time and only heard it secondhand from Keisai--but it seems he made some reference to money, so I would imagine he will demand some kind of ransom.”
“That seems like Maxwell's general kind of scheme. In which case, this is probably a side project for him--not connected to the Nadirites' plan.”
“Nadirite?” Zortan looked up sharply and for the first time there seemed to be a crack in his set demeanor. “Do you mean that this Intimidator works for the Nadirites--”
“M'lord?”
Zortan stopped in the middle of his thought and glanced at the figure who had joined them noiselessly at some point during the conversation without his notice. “What are you doing out here, Keisai? We don't need you.” Zortan spoke quickly and irritably. Clearly, this interruption was the last thing he had expected.
“I thought you had called for me.” The servant bowed and turned away.
White sighed. This made the third palace servant they had seen who was named Keisai. Like the other two, he was barefoot and wore a white tunic. Like them, he was rather remarkable in appearance, but most remarkable for looking absolutely nothing like the other two. He was short and stocky, with a rounded, boyish face (White put his age at about sixteen), and long red hair worn in dreadlocks.
“Anyway--” said Gold, after a slightly awkward pause-- “you have no further information about the abduction?”
“No. As I said, we were not even present when it happened. We can confirm that they not anywhere in the immediate area, but there is nothing more I can tell you. Our planets are sparsely populated, as you have seen, and there are many empty areas where he could hide himself or a ship of some kind and never be spotted.”
“Yeah, I see that it's going to be difficult to track them down.”
Without warning, Blue spoke. “The Intimidator is a tricky enemy. His main strategy is to do exactly the one thing you aren't expecting. So we should consider the possibility that he may have done something--unexpected. Maybe instead of hiding in some desolate, faraway place, he's hiding somewhere close but unsuspected.” She paused as if thinking. Then she motioned towards the pillared entrance set in the white mountain behind the courtyard. “That place--the Temple of Ice, was it?--you told us it was a sacred place to your people--somewhere people wouldn't normally go. So, perhaps--”
Rothmar cut her off. “You would dare to suggest--you would even name that sacred place in the same breath with such treachery?”
“Rothmar, she does have a valid point.” Zortan gave his fellow sage a meaningful look. “Such a criminal would care nothing about committing sacrilege. That is why I had the temple searched earlier. I know it is a breach of decorum--which is why I had not told you--but with her highness in the hands of this criminal, decorum is hardly our largest concern.”
Rothmar bowed his head. “I understand.”
“So there's no possibility that Maxwell hid there?” asked Gold. There was an edge to his voice--White assumed he was irritated by Blue taking such a dominant role in the conversation--but his words were calm and well-ordered.
“None at all. There is no way he could even gain access to the temple in the first place, but I had it searched thoroughly, just to make sure. As I said, I feel certain he is not hiding in the immediate area--but he and the princess could be anywhere within the system.”
Gold nodded. “And if he has a functioning ship--and we can't rule out the possibility that he does--then he might have gone into the Void or headed off towards Draxmore for all we know.” A slight strain of tiredness showed in his voice.
Both Rothmar and Zortan took a step backwards and, in their different ways, showed an expression of alarm and horror. Apparently, this possibility had not occurred to them. “He can't do that!” Rothmar spat out.
“That would be catastrophic--horrible--” Zortan shivered. But the next instant he was collected again. “But our fears will not prevent the reality. And there is nothing we can do. We must leave the matter to you, Corps. You are our only hope--unless that other possibility works out,” he added in a lower voice, which seemed to be more to himself than to the Corps.
“You have to get her back,” added Rothmar. “Or--or everything will be for nothing.”
“We can't forget that considering her highness's--condition--this kind of stress could be extremely dangerous, even aside from everything else.”
“Well, then why are we standing here talking?” Red demanded, suddenly. “We should be out looking for her.”
“Of course.” Zortan bowed. “We appreciate your willingness to help us even though this is, in actuality, not your problem, not part of the reason for which you were sent here. Is there anything we may do to assist you?”
“As a matter of fact, there is,” remarked Blue in an impassive voice. “Would it be possible for us to get some food before we go off searching? This could be a long, intensive process.”
For just a moment, everyone stared at her. White wouldn't have expected that from any of the Corps, not even Red--not when The Crystallair was fully stocked with food. But it was certainly the last thing she would have expected from Blue.
“Blue--” began Gold.
She shrugged. “What? I'm hungry. And since they use prefood here, it should only take a moment.”
Zortan smiled. “I quite understand. I was young once too, after all. We had prepared for this possibility. Alexse!” He took a step or two towards the royal residence and called out in a loud voice. “Bring out some food for the Corps.”
There was a moment or two of waiting, and then a servant appeared, carrying a large tray with seven blocks of prefood. Though he was dressed like the other palace servants, there was nothing remarkable about his appearance--wiry and a little stooped in build, with a slight beard and scraggly hair--probably on the far side of thirty. White assumed that Alexse was his name--she was somehow not the least surprised that his name was not Keisai.
Gold was bristling about the whole situation--White could tell that easily--but he spoke calmly and quietly. “Thank you for assistance. We'll be on our way, now--as soon as we find out anything, we will bring you word. We'll eat on the way,” he added, narrowing his eyes slightly and throwing an angry and somewhat puzzled look at Blue.
“We will be waiting,” answered Zortan, bowing his head.
“All right, what was the deal with that?” Gold exploded the instant the Corps were safely back on board The Crystallair. Since Blue had made a point of asking for it, all of the Corps (except Green) had taken a block of prefood from the tray, though apparently none of the others was especially hungry.
“They asked if they could help us,” answered Blue calmly, sitting down at the table and taking a bite off the end of the block. “And I thought some food would be good. You surely can't have a problem with that, can you?” She looked up with eyes that seemed to contain a challenge.
Gold was so upset that for a second or two, he couldn't even speak, which was a fairly unusual occurrence for him. “That was completely uncalled for--especially considering we have enough food onboard the ship to last us for a year.”
“You don't like the unique taste of the food in this system?”
Gold was at a loss again for a second. White understood why. Blue was talking nonsense--the prefood the Altayrans served them had a fairly basic (though still good) flavoring, which they could easily replicate with the ship's computer.
“And you took two blocks,” added Gold, in exasperation.
“Green doesn't eat, so someone had to. And I have a feeling I'm going to be hungry later.”
Gold opened his mouth to answer, but he never got to speak, because Red interrupted. “How can you two be arguing at a time like this? Maxwell's kidnapped the princess--there's no telling what may be happening--and you're talking about food?”
“I never knew you to complain about that,” remarked Black.
White had noted that Red actually left his food sitting untasted on the side of the cabin. That was something nearly unheard of.
“We should be out looking for him--for her--”
Gold folded his arms. “That's what I would think--that we should be working on our mission, not risking our relationship with the Altayrans by demanding food.” Then he shook his head. “But, you're right--we do need to focus on finding Maxwell. Again. I'm sure this is a solo project of his--if Erybus had wanted to kidnap the princess, he could have done it easily enough at that ambush in Hath'ellah. But, as the Corps, we can't ignore this kind of situation. Anyhow, if anything happens to the princess now, it could compromise the relationship between Ursa Prime and the Altayran system.” His eyes narrowed. “I suppose there's no point in asking if you can track them down, Blue?”
She shrugged and continued eating with placid indifference. “There's no way to know unless you ask.”
Gold clenched his fists and muttered something under his breath which White was just as glad she didn't catch.
“So can you find her or not?” Red pressed. “I know you said you can't pin down Maxwell because of his exoskeleton, but you should be able to find Valencia, shouldn't you?”
Blue continued eating as if she hadn't heard the question.
Red jumped up and slammed his hands down on the table opposite her. “Can you or can't you?” he demanded, his voice rising and almost cracking.
“You didn't say please.”
“Let it go, Red.” Gold's voice was hard. “I think she's given up on cooperating. Or maybe she's just lost the knack of using her power.”
“Since I was unable to lead us to Maxwell's location before? I do remember you deducing that he was on Altayra Conaurah without my help.”
“Well, then where is he now?” Red was still leaning on the table, staring down at Blue.
“I have no idea,” she responded as she finished the last bite of her prefood. “He is apparently using some kind of shielding device to cloak his location--probably utilizing magnetically polarized tachyon particles.”
“That seems like a convenient excuse,” answered Gold.
“It is. Fortunately, Leader, you are skilled enough to locate Maxwell and the princess without my help. You are, aren't you?”
Gold took a step forward so that he was standing directly behind Red. “That sounds dangerously close to insubordination. I am still leader the Corps.”
“I am very much aware of that.”
“Well, then, you might act like it.”
“I will if you will.”
“Sir!” Green tore off his hat and for just a moment White thought he was going to rip it in half. He looked just about that upset. “I don't think this is the time for this kind of argument.”
“After all,” added White in a low, colorless voice, “we're the Corps--we're better than that.”
“If Maxwell has a functioning ship,” Green continued, still twisting his hat in his hands, “we should be able to track him by that, shouldn't we? With or without the specific power of Blue's armor? Even if he is using a tachyon shield, that shouldn't mask the presence of his ship completely.”
Gold took a step back and for just a moment seemed unsure of his next move. Then he nodded and punched his left fist into his right palm for emphasis. “Right. We've been going about this whole thing wrong. We weren't expecting war in the Altayra System. This was supposed to be a routine mission to reactivate the Guidance Beacon. But clearly, the Guidance Beacon is only one small piece of whatever is going on here. Most likely, Erybus destroyed it to keep news from reaching Ursa Prime. It's even possible that it was done intentionally to lure us here."
He paused for a moment, and then went on, "Also, for some time, people from Altayra have been disappearing--probably the Nadirites are behind that, but we don't know exactly how or why. And then in the middle of all this we have Maxwell, who is working with the Nadirites but also working on his own. But here's the thing--the Nadirite motherships are some distance away from Altayra. Though Maxwell had one--maybe more--campsites here in Altayra, we don't have evidence that the Nadirites have a base here, certainly not a large one. In other words, they have to be ferrying their troops in and out with some kind of dropship. And while Maxwell may be be just using his mechog to get around, I'm going to guess he has a ship of some kind too--maybe a borrowed Nadirite ship or something else he fitted up. In any case, what we need to do is get some eyes in the sky to monitor what's going on, so we can pinpoint where and how the Nadirites--and Maxwell--are getting around. Green--”
“Yes, sir?” Green had pushed his hat back into shape and now carefully repositioned it on his head. “You want me to prepare the tech for a monitor system?”
“Exactly. It's going to have to be a patch job, because we don't have the supplies to create a perfect set up, but at this point anything will be better than what we have. I get the impression the Altayrans don't do much travel between their planets, so it's not as if we'll have to sort out a lot of irrelevant data. All we have to do is zero in on any interplanetary travel in this system. Can you do that?”
Green nodded. “If everyone will get out of my way so I can use the holocube--”
“Why, of course.” Blue finished the last of her food and stood up. Red and Gold also stepped back from the table, giving Green the room he needed. He sat down, activated the holocube, and made a few rapid calculations. “We've decided not to worry about the Guidance Beacon until after we've stopped the Nadirites and Maxwell?” he asked, glancing up.
Gold nodded. “That's a battle we can't win--and, so far as I can tell, we don't need to win.”
“Then by cannibalizing a few pieces from the Guidance Beacon, together with the spare tech we have around the ship, we should be able to do it.”
“So what exactly are we doing?” asked Red. As usual, he was a step or two behind everyone else but, not as usual, he seemed seriously interested in what was going on.
Green stood up, adjusting his hat as he did. “We'll create four small drones and release them at four points throughout the Altayra System. They will serve as 'eyes' gathering data from across the system--specifically, looking for the radiation signature produced by a ship's engine. That will allow us to learn where and how Maxwell and the Nadirites are moving around.”
Silver raised his head and asked, “But if something is interfering with Blue's armor, will it not also interfere with your drones?”
For just a moment, Green seemed to loose his composure. “Uh--that--well--” Then he pushed his hat back with an annoyed motion. “We can't know for sure about that until we try. But the drones will be looking for a much larger signature than the small signatures which Blue's armor can detect. It is the difference between listening for a shout and listening for a whisper.”
Silver nodded. “I understand.” He returned to his normal posture.
Gold glanced around and then started firing out orders. “Green and Black--you'll come with me to the Guidance Beacon to get the materials we'll need from there. There's a risk that the Nadirites are still watching it, but that's a chance we'll have to take. Red, you and Silver go to Altayra Conaurah and check on Maxwell's campsite there. I'm fairly certain that Maxwell is smart enough not to have returned there, but we'd better make sure. We'll leave The Crystallair here in orbit around Altayra Rex to serve as a base. This system is small enough we can do all our traveling with the power of our armor. You two,” he added, almost as an after thought, “can stay with the ship in case anything comes up here. That seems just about right.”
White nodded. “Just about right,” she repeated in a low voice.
Gold didn't acknowledge her response. “All right then. Let's go.”
White let out a long sigh. The other members of the Corps had shot off on their various missions, leaving her alone. Well, almost alone. Given Blue's usual reserve, she assumed there would be little disturbance from that quarter. Besides, the instant the others left, Blue had also left the main cabin, carrying her second block of prefood. Events had happened so fast and she was still having trouble coming to grips with everything. She just couldn't sort out all her feelings and it bothered her more than she liked to admit. She was used to keeping her soul like her quarters--neat, tidy, and well-organized with everything in its proper place. She was used to having all her feelings and emotions well under control. After all, wasn't that what she had striven for over the last four years, ever since the fiasco with Maxwell back at the monastery? Everything shouldn't feel so chaotic now, so sloppy. After all, she was part of the Corps... they were better than that...
Once again the words echoed in her mind--haunting her, taunting her. It had always been Gold's catch-phrase, a symbol of his own pride and honor as leader of the Corps. Just when had they become so much a part of her own consciousness? She was in no state of mind to start drawing out the theological difference between honor and pride, but she knew that Gold had a lot of both--just how much of them had she absorbed from him? How much of his anger was right and how much wrong and how much of both had she come to excuse? How truly good was his ideal of the Corps, the only god he worshipped--and just how much had she come to worship it too?
She shook her head, in a vain hope that this might make her thoughts return to their proper places. This was all silly. She was just getting herself get worked up because of that crazy idea of Black's. The very thought that anyone would think that she had fallen in love with Gold--that she would have given her heart to an Unbeliever who worshiped his own Code of honor--after all, she was part of the Corps. They were better...
“So, are you hungry?”
White hadn't even been aware that Blue had re-entered the room. So much for having some quiet and a chance to sort out her thoughts. Still, there was a part of her that suspected it might be just as well. There was a small part of her which whispered a note of gladness for something to distract her from her thoughts, which seemed stuck in one, tight circle of repetition.
“Um--no--” White answered, still a little absorbed. But after she said it, it struck her that she did feel just a little hungry. More so than made sense, considering that she had just eaten. Perhaps it was because she had eaten so absent-mindedly, hardly thinking about the fact that she was eating.
Blue had been standing, but now she sat down at the table, phasing off her armor. “I see you've fallen into disfavor with Our Fearless Leader, too.”
White opened her mouth and then closed it. She couldn't really argue with that. The way Gold had ignored her throughout the day's proceedings--the way he hadn't even said her name when he ordered her to stay with the ship--it was all fairly obvious, especially considering the fact that she usually acted as his second-in-command. Definitely, the revelation that she had known Maxwell and kept it secret--definitely, it had bothered him. But was it really because of jealousy, as Black had said?
“Well, then maybe you'll be willing to listen to a little sense.”
White looked at Blue and then sat down opposite her. There was something in her manner that was different than usual. White couldn't exactly define it, but she felt as if the other girl were being more serious than usual. Though she was still speaking in an off-hand, laconic manner, White knew that she had something thing really wanted to say. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that Gold--and the others--are all taking this situation at face value. And that could be right. But it could be wrong. Take Maxwell kidnapping the princess. He could have done it as a private venture for ransom. It's the kind of thing he would do. And he might have done it for the Nadirites, for some reason we don't know yet. Those are both possibilities. But there is another possibility.”
White nodded, even though she didn't understand where Blue was going. “And that is?”
“Maxwell has never been below doing other people's dirty work. So there's a chance that kidnapping the princess, though a side project and not part of the Nadirite plan, was still done for someone else and not on his own account.”
“I suppose that's possible--but who else would have an interest in having Princess Valencia kidnapped?”
Blue didn't answer her directly. “The Altayran system is a hereditary monarchy. From all we can tell, it's a fairly absolute monarchy--it doesn't look as if Valencia answers to anyone besides the sages--and their role seems more to be advisors and administrators than anything else. They probably wouldn't even have the authority they do now if it weren't for how young Valencia is. So the holder of the throne has a lot of power--within the sphere of this system, anyway. And there's something else--when Zortan was telling us about the princess's illness, did you notice what he said? Valencia is the last of the royal line. If she hadn't been born, there would have been no heir. With her parents dead and with no siblings, she is seemingly the only the one left with royal blood. If she dies or disappears now, who takes over the position of ruler?”
White narrowed her eyes, thinking. “It's hard to say how that would work. But I suppose if there is no one else in direct succession, it would pass to the sages.” And then she glanced up sharply. “But are you really suggesting that Zortan and Rothmar would have hired Maxwell to kidnap the princess so they could take her position?”
Blue shrugged. “Have you really been that impressed by their character?”
White had to admit there were things about the two sages that she couldn't understand, that she couldn't pin down. Certainly they had seemed legitimately concerned over the princess's disappearance, but that could also have been affected. “But that doesn't make any sense. We know now about Valencia's condition. Why would the sages take this kind of risk to eliminate her when she won't live that long anyway?”
“That's assuming that Valencia's condition really is incurable. We have only the Sages word for that. Did you notice that Zortan didn't actually tell us what was wrong with her? Imagine their position for a minute--since Valencia was just a baby, they've known she was dying and that, with her death, one (or both) of them would succeed to her position. And then, after having counted on that for years, they discover that there is a cure for her. Don't you think that could drive them to do something desperate? Especially given that now her highness has met us and established a connection with people from outside her system--they have no way of knowing whether she might not casually mention to us the exact nature of her disease and that we might not know of a cure for it.”
“I guess that makes sense,” agreed White slowly. “But do you really think it's true?”
“I'm just saying it's a possibility. And then there's another possibility, another strange thing that needs explaining. That's Keisai.”
“What about him--or them?”
Blue tapped her fingers on the table. “In the short time we've been in this system, we've seen four different servants who work in the palace, and three of them were named Keisai. That's not intrinsically impossible, but it seems strange. I'm sure it's occurred to you that Keisai might really be a title of some kind rather than an actual name.”
“It did,” White admitted, “but I don't see why the Sages would have lied about it then and told us that it was just a common name.”
“Did you notice two common features of all three Keisais?”
“Well, all three were unusually good looking. But what's the other commonality?”
“What would you guess their ages to be?”
White paused a moment to think. “I would put all three between sixteen and twenty.”
“In other words, they are all generally about the same age as the princess. Do those two facts suggest anything to you? If this helps--as a Believer, I'm sure you're familiar with the story the scriptures tell of Esther.”
“Yes... and how the Emperor gathered the fairest young girls from across the realm to choose one as a new queen.” White leaned forward. “Are you really suggesting something like that here? That the Keisais have been gathered based on their physical appearance and one of them will be chosen to marry the princess?”
“One or all.” Noting White's look, Blue added: “Polyandry is not exactly common, but it's not unheard of.”
“But--that doesn't make sense. Look at the way the Keisais were dressed and how Zortan ordered them around. Clearly they're only servants.”
Blue glanced away. “The line between slave and spouse is a fairly fine one in any society, but especially so when royalty is involved.”
White wasn't sure if that was supposed to be sarcasm or cynicism or some combination of the two.
“In any case,” Blue continued, “if Valencia marries anyone, that would give a successor other than the Sages. I would guess the hope is for her to give birth to an heir before she dies, who would be the true successor, with the father only acting as regent until it comes of age. If the Sages want to hold unto their position, Valencia has to disappear before that happens.”
White sat silent for a moment. There was a strange amount of sense in Blue's theory, but she still wasn't convinced. “That could be true, but we don't have any evidence that it is.”
Blue tugged at a strand of her hair. It was a habit White had never noticed before. Was it possibly a sign that Blue wasn't entirely sure of herself? “All I'm saying is that we shouldn't take everything going on here at face value--which is what Gold seems to be doing.” She paused and for a moment White thought the conversation was over. But then, she spoke again: “There are two things about all of this that really don't make sense. Two things which only I know. I suppose you thought I was just being deliberately idiotic in our conversation with the Sages earlier--but there was a reason for everything I did. Do you understand what prefood really is?”
White wondered what in the Cosmos that had to do with anything. “Of course. While I lived with the Tremonsirs I helped to manufacture prefood for our travels.”
“You manufactured your own prefood?” For just an instant, Blue seemed genuinely surprised.
“Well, the actually 'block' we imported from a monastery of our order in the Ursan Sector--which is where nearly all prefood is manufactured. But we would extract our own nutrients to fill it.”
“Then you realize that the basic 'block' of prefood has no nutrients of itself. The other day Green called it 'solidified nothing' and that's a fairly accurate description of it.”
White nodded. “The nutrients and flavors all are added to it.”
“In theory.” Blue set her block of prefood down on the table and looked across at White. “But there's one thing. This particular block--and therefore we can assume all the food they've served us here in Altayra--has no nutrients, no calories. It's been given flavor but nothing else. You may think you're eating something when you eat this, but so far as your body is concerned, you're not. You could eat all of this you wanted and you'd still starve to death.”
White should have realized where Blue was headed but she still started back in surprise. “Are you sure?”
“As far as the food they gave us today--yes. I just ran a chemical analysis on it. I can't guarantee that the same thing was true of the food they gave us in Hath'ellah, but I'd wager it was. That's what made me suspicious--didn't you notice how we were all so hungry even though we ate?”
Yes, White had definitely noticed that. “But--but why in the Cosmos--”
Once again, Blue tugged slightly at a strand of hair. “It's hard to imagine a reason, isn't it? Maybe it's just some kind of silent insult. But whatever the reason, that's one of the things that make me think there is more to this whole situation than meets the eye. And then there's the other thing.” She paused for a moment and then started drumming her fingers on the table. “You can't hear it, but this makes a sound. If you put your ear against the table you'd hear it, or if you put your ear down close to my fingers. Doing this creates vibrations, which are a form of sound, even if your ears aren't sensitive enough to pick it up.”
White wondered where in the Cosmos Blue was headed now. “Yes...?”
“Well, everything puts off a certain vibratory pattern, something like that. Most people can't detect them--but with the power of my armor, I can. This armor allows me to detect--to 'see' and 'hear' a vast number of things the rest of you can't.” She shrugged. “Not necessarily my idea, but that's what it does.”
“So that's how you're able to track down people and things, even across the vastness of space?”
“It's an oversimplification, but that's the basic idea, yes. But it also allows me to detect other things.”
White didn't bother telling Blue that she already knew most of that.
“Specifically, it allows me to detect patterns of energy, things that you couldn't usually detect without specialized instruments. And this whole system is filled with the strangest pattern I've ever seen.”
“What do you mean?”
Blue's fingers were twisted in her hair again. “It's a little hard to explain, hard to make you see it second-hand. Imagine something like a giant magnet pulling everything towards itself. There's something in this system which creates a pull on energy--energy of every form. It's strong enough that we can almost but not quite detect it without my armor. But it's not a steady force--it seems to pulse. You've seen waves on an ocean, haven't you? It's like that--and with every wave that comes in there's a reaction going back.”
White nodded though she was having a little trouble keeping up with Blue's analogies.
“This--thing--whatever it is--sets up a constant pulse of vibrations drawing in and flowing out, though more is drawn in than flows out. It's a permanent background to this system, like a constant sound nobody can hear. Do you understand what I mean?” She evidently meant the question rhetorically, because she didn't pause for a response. “I'm fairly certain that Maxwell was able to broadcast that hologram all the way from one planet to another by hitching its signal unto this background pattern.”
Now Blue paused, but White wasn't sure what kind of response she was waiting for, so she ventured cautiously: “Is this background pattern--is it what it making your armor's power to function erratically in this system?”
Though Blue's eyes didn't flicker, her hand jerked with a strange emphasis, pulling a strand of hair. Now White was sure that was a nervous habit and meant she was upset or unsure about something. But her tone was emotionless when she answered: “Most likely.”
The pause this time lasted long enough to be awkward. White finally ventured, “So what does this have to do with that conversation with the Sages?”
Blue stood up and turned away. “I don't know what's going on in this system. I don't know whether it has anything to do with the Nadirites or with the strange way the Sages have been acting. But I know one thing. That pattern I told you about--it's epicenter seems to be on Altayra Rex--as nearly as I can pinpoint it, in the Temple of Ice.” And with that she walked away, clearly indicating that the conversation was over.
White shook her head and turned away. Things were getting far too confusing for her. She had always prided herself--had it really been pride?--on her ability to sort through complex information, to find patterns and sanity in the apparent madness of events. But now--now she wasn't so sure of herself. She couldn't make any sense out of Blue's revelations, or exactly why Blue had suddenly chosen to talk seriously to her. At least, she had been serious, hadn't she? Or had she just moved to a more subtle form of sarcasm? White was coming to realize that, for all her supposed skill at understanding people, she really knew very little about her own team mates... or herself.
Her thoughts were suddenly scattered again when the comm unit came to life. "White, have you heard anything from Red or Silver?" Gold's voice was rough, but White thought there was a worried note to it, too.
"No, they haven't reported in."
"They haven't contacted me, either."
"This is Red," White pointed out after a pause.
"Granted. But if nothing's gone wrong, they should have returned to the ship by now."
White nodded, even though Gold couldn't see the motion. It shouldn't have taken that long for Red and Silver to investigate Maxwell's campsite... if nothing went wrong. But if anything had gone wrong, they should have called in.
"Leave Blue with the ship and check it out. We can't ignore the possibility that something happened. If Red contacts me, I'll let you know."
White glanced behind to see that Blue had been listening.
"I'm on my way."
"Check."
Just a second or two later, White, in her armor, was shooting through the darkness of space towards Altayra Conaurah. She thought that most likely Red had just gotten distracted by something--it wasn't as if this had never happened before--but with everything going on, they couldn't afford to take chances.
As she flew, she couldn't help but admit one thing--that she strangely pleased because Gold had given her this assignment. The way he had talked to her had been just like the old days. That shouldn't have made her as happy as it did.
She clearly remembered the location of Maxwell's campsite and with there being next-to-nothing else on Altayra Conaurah, it was easy enough to find again.
"I'm almost there, Gold," she reported as she came in sight of the wrecked spaceship by which Maxwell had made his campsite. She paused for a moment. "That's not right. That wreck... has been wrecked." When they had seen it before, she had been impressed by how it seemed in perfect condition. Now the entire length of the ship had been split open.
"Roger that. Proceed with caution. If you need back-up, shout. But it'll be a while before we can get there."
White didn't respond. She was moving in carefully which, for her, meant moving quickly. As long as she moved quickly, she wasn't likely to be spotted--assuming there was anyone around in the first place.
And, as it happened there was.
Specifically, there were three Nadirite agents in powersuits, Red, Silver, and a large mechog. One of the Nadirites (an officer, based on the suit) was standing in front of the wreck, holding a weapon on Red who stood opposite. The second was standing over Silver, who was sprawled on the ground--also with a weapon trained. (Both Silver and Red were out of armor.) The third was holding the mechog pinned against the ground, though apparently with some difficulty.
White arced around the site and then came to a stop at a location some distance behind the ship where she felt certain she wouldn't be spotted. “We have a situation,” she said into her comm. “Three Nadirites powersuits. Based on what I saw, I think they surprised Silver and knocked him unconscious and are using him as a hostage to keep Red from using his armor.”
Gold growled under his breath. “Should've known Red would find some way to get himself in trouble. It's going to take a while for any of us to get to your location--we don't have your speed.”
“And we don't have that kind of time. I doubt the Nadirites are going to keep this standoff forever and they have the upper-hand at the moment. I'm going to move in.”
“Check. I'm counting on you.”
For just a moment, White hovered in the air, her face hot and flushed, her heart beating more than usual. She couldn't deny the sense of relief and almost exhilaration she felt to hear Gold talking to her like that. Obviously, Black had been right and his doubt about her had been only superficial and deep down he had never believed she could betray the Corps. But why had he reacted so harshly, then? And why did she feel so happy at his returning trust? One would almost think that there really was something more...
But she had no time to think about that.
She had no idea how long the stand-off had been going on, but she doubted it would last much longer. She had to interfere now. The problem was that the Nadirites had two hostages. If it had been just foot soldiers, she wouldn't have been worried, but the powersuits were strong enough that she couldn't count on taking out both before they realized her presence. If she could have coordinated with Red, things would have been simpler, but apparently the Nadirites were using some kind of powerful local signal to jam his communicator.
Fortunately, there were only three Nadirites, so far as she could tell--there was no sign of any other forces in the area. She dropped to ground-level, floating only an inch or so off the surface of the planet and slowly approached the group, keeping the bulk of the wreckage between her and the others. She could hear them talking now.
“Captain Erybus will be displeased that we failed to find the Intimidator,” said one of the Nadirites. White recognized the voice as the female Syrian officer who had led the powersuits in the battle at the Guidance Beacon. “But capturing two of you will more than make up for that, perhaps rendering everything else irrelevant. Unless, of course, you know where the Intimidator is.”
“I don't know where Maxwell is and I wouldn't tell you even if I did.”
White paused in her approach. Red's voice was petulant and a little sullen--it struck her ironically as sounding more like the defiance of a bullied schoolboy than part of an act of war--and yet, for all that, it had a note of firmness that she had never heard in Red's voice before. She was also interested in the fact that, apparently, the Nadirites were also searching for Maxwell. He had probably betrayed or at least deserted them in favor of his own private schemes. Naturally.
“This talk is a waste of time,” spoke one of the Nadirites. He had a rough, burly voice and a slight speech impediment which made him sound as if he perpetually had something stuck in his throat. Or maybe he did have something perpetually stuck in his throat. “We should be getting back before any of their friends show up.”
“They won't show up. The rest of the Corps don't even know where we are. It was all my idea to bring Silver out here and investigate--I didn't tell Gold.”
White stopped again, partly because she had reached a point where she couldn't go further without revealing herself and partly at shock at what Red had just said. She wasn't used to Red being this cool under pressure. If the Nadirites believed him, it might put them off their guard. (Had she just complimented Red for lying? She shook her head. This was no time for sorting out questions of ethics.)
“This one talks too much,” said the voice which had spoken before. “I know Captain Erybus wants them captive, but do they have to be alive still when we bring them in?”
“Erybus quite specifically insisted that we capture them alive,” answered the officer's voice. “'More or less alive' were his exact words, I think.”
“What does that mean?” asked Red, his voice rising slightly.
The office kept talking, introspectively. “Of course, we really only need one captive. And since the big one is unconscious, he is the more natural choice. It might be simpler if we just took him and disposed of the other.”
“That's what I said in the beginning.”
“Of course, we might be able to come to an agreement...”
“Yeah, right,” interrupted Red. “There's no way I'd ever come to an agreement with you.”
“Whatever we do, let's hurry up with it,” added a third voice; also a man's voice, but higher pitched and younger sounding.
White knew there was no point in waiting to hear more. Red seemed alert which meant he would probably be ready to grasp the opportunity when it came. And she couldn't put it off any longer. The Nadirites seemed about ready to make their move.
She closed her eyes in concentration for a moment and then shot around the side of the wreck, moving like a blur of white light. Before the Nadirites had time to react, she had plowed into the one who was covering Silver, knocking him sideways. White had thrown the Nadirite off for only a couple of seconds, but a couple of seconds were all she needed. Though she hadn't been there, she had heard everything that had happened while Silver and the others were trapped on Altayra Vorphintus. She grasped the metallic sphere which hung from Silver's neck and shouted: “Eo, come.”
There was a slight fuzziness in the air and then Silver vanished, leaving only the sphere in White's hand. She threw it some distance away. That would keep Silver out of danger for the time being.
When White plowed into the Nadirite, the officer had started just slightly at the sound and for one instant had taken her eyes off Red. And that instant was all he needed to phase on his armor.
“Now this is more like it,” he exclaimed, as he teleported to a position behind the officer.
“I said we should have killed him when we had the chance,” said the Nadirite who had been covering Silver, the one with the deep voice.
But he had no time to rub the point in any more because in the next couple of seconds all three Nadirites had their hands full. White and Red were not the strongest members of the Corps, but they were the fastest. Between the inherent speed of White's armor and Red's ability to teleport, the Nadirites had all they could do just to keep track of where their enemy was. And besides that, from the beginning of the fight, they had another factor to worry about.
As soon as he had his armor, Red had teleported to a position behind the officer and fired an energy star at her. It had had no impact on her powersuit and it was hard to say whether Red had meant it to distract her or just as a vent for his feelings. But the next instant, he had teleported away again, this time to a point by the third Nadirite, the one who was holding the mechog. He fired a barrage of stars in every direction and then slammed into the Nadirite. The stars had spooked both the man and the animal and so it didn't take much force to upset their already fragile equilibrium. With a yip and a snarl the mechog broke free. For an instant, it seemed undecided and then it turned in the air and sprung on its erstwhile captor.
Meanwhile, White was sparing with the Nadirite with the deep voice. He could move faster than the bulk of his powersuit might have suggested but still not enough to keep up with White, who kept circling and then darting in for an attack. She had learned something in their previous battle with the Nadirites--the main weak spot in the powersuits was the point where the weapons connected to the main suit. For that reason, she kept her sights on his weapon, a large blaster mounted on his right arm. Arching around him, she shot forward, throwing all her force at the blaster, ripping it from the suit and, in the same action, sending the man stumbling backwards.
The officer moved to intercept White, but White was moving too quickly. Fortunately (without Erybus there to augment their powers), the powersuits couldn't fly well, so by flying skyward, she was able to avoid them easily.
The third Nadirite had his hands full with the mechog and Red. Red, in fact, seemed more interested in the mechog than the Nadirite. White couldn't help wondering where in the Cosmos the mechog had come from and how it was involved in this standoff.
Without his weapon, there was less the big Nadirite could do and the damage to his suit seemed to be causing him some problems too, but he was still on his feet. The officer had moved to the side and now fired off an order of some kind. The big Nadirite whirled on Red and at the same time the officer trained her gun (a small, laser-port mounted to the wrist of her suit) on the mechog.
Red teleported forward, directly into the line of fire. As she fired her laser, he fired a storm of energy stars. (White had never seen him fire so many at one time before.) They caught the concentrated light of the laser and refracted it, scattering it harmlessly in every direction.
But Red's distraction had given the big Nadirite opportunity to throw the mechog aside, pulling the third Nadirite to safety. Red glanced backwards and then teleported to the mechog's side, stopping it before it plowed into the side of the ship.
White wondered why Red seemed so anxious to protect the animal, but she had her own concerns. The instant the third Nadirite was free, he pulled a weapon from a sort of pocket on the side of his suit. White recognized it as the same kind of weapon she had seen on the Nadirite mothership a few days previous, though she had never seen it before and wasn't exactly sure what it did or how it worked.
After a second or two, the Nadirite called out: “Target lock.”
In everything that had happened over the last several days, White had almost forgotten about the way the Nadirites had been able to lock unto her armor during the battle on the mothership. She paused for just a second and then shot backwards. Even as the Nadirite fired, she had reached the point where the wing of the wrecked ship stuck out. Slamming her armor against it, she ripped a piece of metal from the wing and whirled around, holding between her and the Nadirites. The weapon fired something that looked more like a glowing bolo of light than anything else. When it struck White's improvised shield, there was an explosion which annihilated her shield and sent her flying back several feet. For just a second, nothing could be seen because of a blinding strobe of white light. And when it faded, there was no sign of the three Nadirites.
*
Meanwhile, some distance away, another conversation was going on.
“So, um, how are you, you know, feeling?”
“My feelings are no concern of yours.”
“But I just asked about them which means I was, you know, concerned.”
“Well, you shouldn't be, then.”
Maxwell stood up and turned away for a minute, pacing down the length of the small cabin. This ship was small but it was big enough for him and for his guest. He glanced at the small control panel and then back to his guest. The ship was floating in space just above the surface of one of the planets of Altayra. He was just slightly concerned that either the Corps or the Nadirites might be able to locate it, but so far there was no sign of any search and with his tachyon shield he wasn't especially worried. “I'm just saying that I want you to be, you know, comfortable.”
“I am perfectly well aware of the meaning of the word comfortable. There is no need to add you know.” Princess Valencia sat very primly in one of the chairs in the cabin. She had sat there, in that exact manner, since the moment she had boarded the ship on Altayra Rex. Maxwell could have sworn her attitude was causing the cabin's atmosphere to lose temperature.
Maxwell continued pacing. “I think you should be a little more, you know, cooperative. I mean, this is, um, an unusual distinction. I don't usually go in for this kind of thing and certainly not for someone of your status. It's quite a compliment.”
Valencia folded her hands. “If you wish to do anything, you should return me to Altayra Rex. Otherwise, there is nothing more to say. You have no right to hold anyone, even the lowest servant of my people, let alone a princess.”
“That's got a good ring.” Maxwell walked up to the control panel again, his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “Maybe I should use that sometime only I'm not a princess or even a, you know, prince, so I suppose I wouldn't work and, anyway, I'm using the one committing crimes not the one telling other people to, you know, not commit them.”
As Maxwell talked, Valencia had begun to show the first real sign of emotion. She tilted her head slightly to one side and looked at him with a curiosity which had a note of horror or disgust: “Are you insane?”
“I'm just a strong man whose in touch his feelings and also happens to be really, you know, intimidating. But, um, I don't really have any, like, reason to try to intimidate you so, yeah...” He turned away to check the panel and continued talking without turning around. “So if you were all like: 'Oh, please, don't hurt me,' then I'd be all like 'I'd never hurt you unless you were trying to hurt me' which obviously you wouldn't if you liked me and also wouldn't if you didn't like me because then you'd be too afraid and so you'd be all like 'I never dreamed of it' and I'd be like...” At this point in his monologue he turned around to pace back down the cabin--but he stopped dead midsentence, for once his eyes nearly starting out his head in amazement at what he saw.
To be continued...
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