Qualea Drop (The Spiral Wars #7), page 40
Hal's eyes gleamed. "Be something, wouldn't it?"
"Get us all killed, more likely," said Taj. Hal's expression didn't change, not fooled for a second. "Sure," Taj conceded. "Sure. It'd be something."
The two friends sat for a moment, watching the flags fluttering as the breeze blew up from the south, now strong with the smell of methane from the plants down that way. Taj had never dreamed that methane would smell like freedom. Dangerous dreams, for anyone on Qalea. The kind of dreams for which the reeh had smashed neighbourhoods in the past.
"Where's Trace now?" Hal asked after a moment.
"The lestis temple guys had some dogreth friends. People who know about the Amakti Los, and that old history. A few of them offered us this qarib as a safe spot for you. She reckons that with Styx's ability to simulate everything, they might be able to figure out where this old Ceephay Queen was actually located back then."
"Reeh won't like that," said Hal, looking skyward. "Best they don't find out what she's looking for."
"If they learn Styx exists, they'll guess," Taj said with certainty. Suddenly he could feel the anger once more, born of that frustration he'd felt as a child, looking up at the sky and contemplating all the worlds everyone knew were out there, that no one on this planet would ever be allowed to see. "When Styx was in charge, apparently it was pretty bad for anyone not an AI. AI civilisation wasn't very nice. But I reckon I'd have it back if it could get rid of the fucking reeh. For good."
23
Lisbeth had thought that with Liala taking command of Rando operations, her own workload would drop off. With tensions high between Admiral Cho'nuk's loyal captains and the dissenters, she'd spent much of her time simply trying to negotiate a way around the impasse, and to keep the sides talking to each other. With Cho'nuk gone, she no longer played the diplomat, but instead had been folded into Rando Command's most understaffed role, that of command communications.
Liala's integrated command network functioned much more smoothly than Cho'nuk's had, with each participating ship updating its status continually. But reporting that status was the largely automated function of non-sentient ship systems, which largely excluded the most important part of the operation -- the crew, and particularly the large crowds of frightened civilians crammed into orbiting freighters. Often a full and comprehensive status could only be obtained by direct conversation, and with upwards of a hundred and forty ships in system at any time, Rando Command lacked the coms operators to perform the duty. Lisbeth was handicapped by the lack of a relevant native language, but with advanced translators, she was managing.
Now in the breaks between reeh assaults, she spent her time at her post, querying an endless flow of croma freighters, some military and many more civilian, trying to fill in the gaps between apparent status and actual. Many had medical emergencies, some as a result of the reeh assaults that still came insystem every forty hours on average, others from sick or elderly corbi civilians, or from the inevitable accidents that accompanied the movements of large numbers of non-spacefaring civvies into ships only recently modified to accommodate them.
For most there was nothing to be done but hope the freighter's crew could handle it -- the shuttles were far too preoccupied bringing up loads of new evacuees to waste precious time ferrying sick or injured individuals to a ship with better medical care. But recent arrivals from the Cho'nu jump-point had included three light orbital runners that now fulfilled precisely this function of racing between orbital vessels with necessary transfers of personnel and equipment, and coordinating their movements most efficiently between all the competing needs was becoming a game of three-dimensional pinball for all of Rando Command's operators.
Other ships were having technical difficulties with accommodations, some of which were interfering with their capacity, and an inevitable few had civil order issues, where the frightened 'cargo' were becoming unruly, sometimes beyond the ability of understaffed croma crew to contain. Such incidents were rare, but none of them were reported automatically into Liala's command network, leaving it to Command Coms Officers like Lisbeth to sort it all out by voice.
She was exhausted, late in First Shift, when Scan announced new jump arrivals from the friendly direction of Cho'nu, from where it was physically impossible for any but croma vessels to be arriving. Scan identified three, all warships, which would probably raise a cheer from the croma warship crews. They'd received a total of fifteen reinforcement vessels so far, either from the strategic reserve or pulled from other operations where they were no longer needed, but casualties had been eighteen from an initial force of thirty-one. There had been significant survivors from perhaps half of those lost ships, but still the operation had proven desperately dangerous for croma spacers so far. Elsewhere along the extended croma front, Lisbeth had heard that early results were good, but later results less-so, with casualties increasingly heavy... but it was all so depressing to contemplate, and she really had no time to worry about any calamities beside the one directly under her nose.
She was talking to a big Sto'ji freighter about a lifesupport malfunction that was depressurising one of their main holds, and watching as the audio-translator fed that data realtime into Liala's command network so that everyone could see the situation, when Coroset's Coms Officer transferred a call to her board. It was one of the new croma arrivals -- a cruiser named To'ba, displaying on her board as a messenger direct from Croma Fleet Command. And awaiting her reply, not a mere coms officer, but a Ri'bo, perhaps close to the human Fleet rank of Vice-Admiral.
Lisbeth put the freighter on hold and answered. "Hello To'ba, this is Coroset, Lisbeth Debogande speaking."
"Lisbeth Debogande, this is Ri'bo Ku'tala on To'ba. I am enquiring with you as to Coroset's current place within the Rando Command structure." Blunt and to the point, as one would expect of croma. Lisbeth could almost hear the confusion, past the synthetic translator. The consternation, to find that the drysine observer who had accompanied the mission as much for politics as anything, was now in charge of croma warships conducting the largest short-term evacuation in Croma Fleet history.
"Coroset operates beneath the effective command of Liala, of the warship Amity," said Lisbeth. "Amity is pleased to offer this service to the croma people on the behalf of Adivach Gesul of the Parren Empire, whom Liala serves in turn. Liala has proven herself most effective in combat and in logistics, as all croma captains have agreed."
"We have been reviewing final simulations of the combat in which Admiral Cho'nuk died. It appears that his defensive fire-grid failed. Did Liala do that?"
Lisbeth blinked. Very direct, these croma. "I'm unaware of any such accusation," she lied. "Many ships are damaged, and repairs are often incomplete. System failures are sadly frequent."
"There have been accusations from other croma captains."
"None of whom have been nearly as competent in combat as Captain Jo'duur, who has supported Liala entirely. Since Admiral Cho'nuk's death, we have suffered two more reeh attacks, both of which were endured with minimal damage compared to previous attacks. Evacuation efficiency is increased by a further nine percent from during Admiral Cho'nuk's command, and that on top of considerable increases made during that time that were also due entirely to Liala's intervention."
"Reeh casualties are also down sharply since Admiral Cho'nuk's death," came Ri'bo Ku'tala's unimpressed reply. "Croma command teaches its captains aggression. Battles are won by killing reeh."
"And Liala has discerned that this is not a battle, this is an evacuation," Lisbeth replied, keeping her tone cool with difficulty. "Its success will be measured by the total evacuation of Rando, not by the number of reeh ships destroyed in the process."
"The more that Liala lets live, the more that will attack her."
"Liala says that reeh are deploying more ships to engagements where they can do the most damage. The Rando Evacuation has thus far proven to be one of the most attractive targets on the entire battlefront, due to its commander's inability to protect his transports. By denying them such easy targets, she believes the reeh will deploy further reinforcements elsewhere. I suggest, Ri'bo Ku'tala, that you talk to Liala yourself."
"I will discuss matters with Liala in time," Ku'tala replied. "Thank you for your cooperation, Lisbeth Debogande." The line disconnected. Lisbeth stared at her screens for a moment, seeing the freighter still on hold, and another five ships in various states of undefined difficulty that needed talking to. Instead, she called Amity.
"Hello Lisbeth," came Liala's immediate reply.
"Did you hear my conversation with Ri'bo Ku'tala just now?" Lisbeth demanded.
"Yes," said Liala. The conversation had been laser-com and thus theoretically unhackable, but Coroset had been making no effort to stop Amity from accessing internal coms lately. Lisbeth doubted that Liala even saw it as 'snooping', as drysines appeared to have little sense of privacy. Data was data, and important data needed to be known. "Ri'bo Ku'tala is upset with Captain Jo'duur for conceding command to me. He is now the ranking croma officer in-system, it is possible he may attempt to take command himself, and send one of his support vessels back to report on the situation."
"Be a pity if we had to kill another one," Lisbeth growled.
"Yes," Liala agreed. "I had hoped that carrying out the mission successfully would take precedence over internal fleet bickering about who ought to be in command. Among organics, however, politics usually trump reason."
Lisbeth stared despairingly at an external feed of Rando. Wide cloud patterns, stretching for thousands of kilometres, white above the blue ocean. It looked peaceful. "I guess if they did relieve you of command, there'd be a chance the new commander would learn the lessons we've learned so far? Surely not all croma are so fucking stubborn?"
"Lisbeth," said Liala, "I have been privy to conversations aboard the warship To'ba. I fear the situation is far worse than that, and that Croma Command, once it receives Ri'bo Ku'tala's report, will likely abandon what remains of the Rando Evacuation entirely."
The road into Mejo evacuation zone was littered with the detritus of a dying world. Abandoned belongings littered the roadside, alongside handcarts and wagons. A geea browsed aimlessly amidst the trees, many of which were now burned and black in some recent fire. The air smelled of smoke and ash, where some nearby explosion had ignited the undergrowth. By the road verge, a line of freshly dug gravesites, all unmarked.
The black forest gave way to open grass, stunted trees and termite mounds -- open grass upon which some tents and temporary shelters had been raised amidst a converging sea of villagers. Beyond the waiting villagers, an enormous shuttle sat with engines idling -- one of the big ones, four huge thrusters pointed to the sky in landing configuration. Even at this range, the engine shriek made conversation impossible. Circling now, a second, smaller shuttle approached.
The wagon driver urged his tired geea along the final stretch of road, while Chuta detoured to a small group of resistance soldiers who sat beneath a stunted tree, jealously guarding the long, black tube of their missile launcher as they watched the latest evacuees roll through. They were guarding against reeh aerial attacks, Jindi guessed. The Resistance had a few such weapons, or perhaps the croma had brought it down so that the evacuation zone would have some permanent protection.
Chuta intercepted Jindi's cart on his way back from the soldiers, and jumped onto the rear tray to talk in his ear. "They say the shuttles aren't constant!" Chuta shouted to be heard. "There's a few at the moment, but there's only been ten all day... this smaller one now makes eleven! They say there's been more people coming than leaving for the past five days, they're worried the croma don't know how many villages there are in the Mejo area!"
There was quite a crowd, Jindi saw as they drew closer. Some large sticks had been driven into the ground, hung with colourful cloth, demarking wide squares into which people should gather. Each square held hundreds of people, most squatting on the ground in the hot sun. Many had erected sticks of their own, on which to stretch cloths for shelter. Beneath them sat the tired elderly, and mothers with small children, swatting away flies and handing around their remaining fresh water.
Closer to the shuttles, resistance soldiers occupied several makeshift shelters, and handed out bottled water to queues forming there. A soldier now stepped before the column as they approached the outer-most villagers, and the column halted. Jindi climbed down with Melu's assistance and walked forward, Chuta already walking ahead and talking to the soldier, who noted in a clipboard who and how many they were, and where they were from.
"How many are we?" Jindi asked once the howl of the departing big shuttle had faded enough for everyone to hear again.
"Nearly twenty thousand!" the soldier replied, still shouting above the thinner whine of the smaller, grounded shuttle. The soldier was a young man, his mane barely grown in, his manner talkative and friendly. "The big ones here can carry about eight hundred, but we've been seeing less and less of them! We're hearing some of them have been breaking down because they're being used so much, so the repairs take time! And they keep getting diverted to new priorities, or when reeh attacks disrupt them!
"The smaller shuttles vary, they take anywhere between one or three hundred, depending on the type! They're mostly croma civilians, not military! It's incredible -- ordinary croma civilians came to rescue us! Not even soldiers!"
"How many of us do you move each day?" Chuta asked.
"On a good day we'll move fifteen thousand! But not every day's a good day, and sometimes we're getting more than that arriving!" The soldier indicated off across the grass and broken trees, to where even now, a new column of evacuees approached, wading past termite mounds larger than they were, belongings in large bundles on their tired shoulders. "If you're lucky you'll only be stuck here a day! If not, might be two! Now, I'd advise you keep your wagons, they make good shelter to sit beneath in this sun! But the animals will have to go, they shit where people have to sit, and they eat too much food and go crazy if there's an attack and trample people, I've seen it!"
Jindi's group found their square between raised poles as the last shuttle roared away, leaving behind it the ghostly stillness of thousands of voices, and the stench of engine fumes on the warm breeze. This square was already occupied by perhaps a hundred corbi, strangers who eyed the new arrivals warily from their places in the dry, prickly grass. Wagons were brought into position, as those least appreciative of the hot sun crawled beneath them. Jindi saw that the laid out squares on the grass were in a series of rows. One of those rows was now being shuffled forward, as the square closest to the shuttle landing zone had been emptied of occupants. It saved everyone from having to shuffle up a spot every time a shuttle departed with another group of corbi, in one giant snaking line. Jindi thought it would also make things harder for queue jumpers.
He moved amongst the people, knowing most by name now, and told them what the soldier had said, and how long they'd have to wait. Many were now anxiously scanning the sky, listening for the next approaching shuttle and hearing nothing. Where was everyone, they wondered? Maybe the croma hadn't brought enough ships? How crazy was it that, in the middle of this supposedly enormous planetary evacuation, the skies should be so quiet?
Jindi tried to tell them what he'd grasped from his brief time with the Resistance Fleet soldier named Tano, and the human Thakur. About how big a planet actually was, and how even the biggest fleet ever assembled could seem small when spread so widely. But in truth, he had trouble visualising it himself. He was just a fisherman who lived on a beach and desired nothing more than a good catch and a fire to cook it by. He looked about the desolate grass plain and termite mounds, with the shimmer of heat off hard-baked soil where nothing would grow, and wished he was on his beach right now. What if the lady in the village just passed had been right, and he was leading these people to nowhere? What if the croma world at the other end had no beaches? What if they were all headed to an ugly camp on land like this, baking in the sun for day after day, and living only by the largess of aliens who'd only saved them to alleviate some crushing moral debt, and now had no idea what more to do with them?
Jodi the wagon driver was trying to drive away his geea. The animal did not want to leave, and looked at him in long-eared, dull-eyed confusion as Jodi shouted at it, and waved at it to go. Jodi gave up trying, sat down and cried. His poor, dumb animal came up to nuzzle his ear. Where else did it have to go? What would become of it here, left behind on a world where there were no more corbi to feed it? Geea were not wild, they'd been domesticated over thousands of years, and could no more fend for themselves in the wild than small children. The kauda would eat them soon enough. Probably better that than starving.
Melu took Jindi's arm. "Stop worrying," she told him kindly. "We're here now. It's only a day. Then the shuttle will come, and it will be our turn."
Jindi took a deep breath. "Yes," he said, stretching his aching back. "Only a day." And Rando, this world that had given birth to all corbi over millions of years, would then be alone in the clutches of the reeh.
24
There were far more people on the thirtieth floor of the tower than Trace felt comfortable with. Vast windows overlooked the Tromala Valley, a primary landmark of Dorgreth Quarter, wide and swarming with repulsor traffic. Much of the furniture had been cleared away in this old-but-new building, one of many towers along this ridge, and replaced with interlocked holography suites. Those now glowed with the topological projections that Styx had constructed from the Dogreth Quarter's lestis temple, a vast expanse of hills, valleys and canyons, clustered with buildings that did not look so technologically different from what existed today. More advanced in some sections, less so in others. Less populated, certainly. Trace guessed that population densities must have climbed and fallen in waves over the millennia, driven more by random reproductive factors than huge, scarring events like wars. Though there'd been a few of those as well, she gathered.
