Imperial Night (Ashes of Empire, #3) Page 8

  “Top secret special access code name Crichton, sir. Only a few of my people saw Captain Vara’s report before I clamped down. The experts at the hospital, the university, and the abbey already held the necessary clearances. They will make sure this doesn’t reach civilian ears before we have the facts.”

  “Good. Once we know what we face, I will decide the next steps, and I’ll be the one to tell our citizens of this new threat.”

  “Of course.”

  “Was there anything else?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Thank you, General.”

  Barca drew herself to attention.

  “Mister President, Madame Vice President, members of the cabinet. Always a pleasure.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call this a pleasure,” Wevers Rauseo muttered, but Barca and Rauseo’s colleagues ignored the comment.

  When the conference room door closed behind Barca, Morane looked around the table.

  “On to other business. Who’s next?”

  **

  “How did they take it?” Rear Admiral Sirak asked when Barca entered the antechamber to her office. He, along with Major General Hamm and Rear Admiral Atman Au, Chief of the Lyonesse Defense Force Support Command, had assembled moments earlier, warned by Lieutenant Colonel Krupak that Barca was back from Government House.

  “About as you’d expect. Secretaries Rauseo and DeCarde, along with the president, were pretty much the only ones who instinctively understood the ramifications. I’m not sure the vice president did, but she said the right things. DeCarde figures we face the results of barbarians breaching containment in one of the empire’s old bioweapon labs along the frontier.”

  Sirak nodded appreciatively.

  “Not a bad theory. That barbarian looked like one sick puppy.”

  Barca waved them into her office and gestured toward the settee group around a low table in one corner.

  “Considering our Brigid is rarely wrong, I’d say it’s a decent theory. But we’ll likely never find out.” She dropped into one of the chairs and exhaled. “However, it means we must cut Lyonesse off from the rest of the galaxy until we find a way of protecting ourselves from whatever is running rampant out there. Vara’s private notes concerning what Sister Brienne sensed are disquieting. And should it spread across the former empire, there’s no telling what that might mean for humanity’s survival.”

  “More the reason for an impenetrable quarantine bubble around Lyonesse,” Sirak said. “Nothing enters our wormhole branch, let alone this system, other than our warships. We might not only end up protecting the Knowledge Vault but the human genome itself.”

  Au made a face.

  “I figured the last few years were too quiet.”

  Sirak reached out and patted his colleague on the shoulder.

  “Cheer up, Atman. We could have sent reconnaissance missions into the badlands and unwittingly brought the crud back ourselves. At least Vara and his chaplain figured it out quickly enough and took the right containment measures two wormhole transits away.”

  “True. So, no more Void Ship missions?”

  Barca shook her head.

  “No. We can’t risk our people, and I doubt Dawn Hunter’s expedition netted us much. That means we would need to send the next ones further out, and I’m leery of doing so now that our industrial base looks like its growth might be self-sustaining.”

  “Would you order Dawn Hunter’s destruction if her crew is infected, and we can’t find a cure?” Hamm asked.

  She raised her hands, palms facing upward, in a gesture of helplessness.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Is Sister Gwenneth aware of this?”

  “Yes. I spoke with her before roping in the abbey’s chief healer.”

  Hamm cocked an eyebrow. “And what did she say?”

  “Trust in the Almighty.”

  Sirak rolled his eyes theatrically. “The Void giveth, the Void taketh away, blessed be the Void.”

  — 11 —

  ––––––––

  “Sir.” The bridge sensor tech raised her hand. “I’m picking up a radiation spike at the wormhole terminus.”

  Lieutenant Stefan Norum, Savage’s assistant combat systems officer, swiveled the bridge command chair to face the sensor station.

  “Unless the wormhole went rogue and connected to another star system, that should be Dawn Hunter.”

  “We’ll find out for sure in fifteen minutes tops, sir.”

  “Yep.” Norum stroked the screen embedded in the command chair’s arm. “Bridge to the captain.”

  A few seconds passed. “Vara here.”

  “Officer of the watch, sir. The wormhole terminus radiation levels are spiking. Dawn Hunter should cross the event horizon in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Excellent. Thank you. Vara, out.”

  Norum turned his eyes back on the starboard secondary display showing the remotely piloted medical probe sifting through the wreckage, looking for a suitable corpse. Though it was a horrible sight, everyone aboard who could do so watched with grim fascination. Piloted from the CIC, the probe carried a small medical lab in its payload compartment instead of the usual sensor package. A medical droid who would manipulate the selected corpse and extract the required samples under its operator’s control augmented it.

  Ten minutes later, the door to the bridge opened with a sigh. Norum glanced over his shoulder and immediately sprang to his feet.

  “Captain on the bridge.”

  He stepped away from the command chair and waited until Vara sat before reporting.

  “Radiation levels at the wormhole terminus are still rising. The medical probe found a suitable corpse, and Ivan Rebroff reports they recovered a relatively undamaged computer core.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

  Vara usually kept out of his people’s way after issuing orders so they could get on with it. So far, he’d been successful in avoiding the CIC, which served as the recovery effort’s operations center. But he felt an overwhelming need to speak with Alwin Kuusisten the moment Dawn Hunter crossed the wormhole terminus’ event horizon. That last glimpse of the infected man frothing at the mouth just before his ship blew apart was haunting Vara’s every waking moment.

  “Radiation surge leveling off, Captain,” the sensor tech reported shortly thereafter. “And here she is.”

  A third blue icon appeared inside the bridge’s tactical projection, joining those representing Savage and Ivan Rebroff.

  “Signals, open a link with Dawn Hunter.”

  Moments later, Lieutenant Commander Kuusisten’s square face appeared on the primary display.

  “Dawn Hunter reporting to the Outer Picket, sir.”

  “Welcome home, Alwin. And welcome to Outer Picket.”

  “Sir?” A puzzled expression creased Kuusisten’s forehead.

  “The last twenty-four hours were just a tad strange. We need to talk.”

  “Those bogies?”

  “Yes. I would like this to be a private conversation on your end, so you can decide how you’ll handle things. My crew already knows everything.”

  “Give me a moment, sir. I’ll shift to my day cabin.”

  “Go.”

  Kuusisten’s face vanished as Dawn Hunter paused the link, but less than a minute passed before it reappeared, this time with a different background.

  “Ready, sir.”

  Vara recounted everything in detail, adding Defense Secretary DeCarde’s suspicion the pathogen might come from an old imperial bioweapon lab. Then he let Kuusisten watch the recording he’d sent back to HQ. As Vara spoke, he saw Kuusisten’s face lose its usual ruddy glow.

  “The Lyonesse Branch of the wormhole network is officially shut. Now that you’ve arrived, no one else gets in, and no one leaves. The moment I reported this, General Barca is
sued the order to consider any vessel approaching Lyonesse either via this wormhole or through interstellar space as a plague ship that should be at the very least stopped and quarantined, Dawn Hunter included. You’re not going any further until we figure out what happened and make sure no one in Dawn Hunter is affected. It means your ship is now part of Outer Picket and under my command.”

  “Yes, sir. Understood. But so that you know, we’re healthy here.”

  “Perhaps, but since we’re in the dark so far, you are quarantined. Nothing leaves Dawn Hunter. Not even a shuttle. If you need supplies, we’ll send containers over, and we won’t ask you to return the empties, just as we won’t recover the probes currently sifting through the wreckage.”

  When Vara noticed the obvious worry reflected in Kuusisten’s eyes, he said, “Spit it out, man. Something’s eating at you.”

  “We rescued a stranded spacer on Yotai. I sent down a landing party, which included two of my Void Sisters. What if they unwittingly picked this virus?”

  Vara’s right eyebrow crept up. “Talk to me, Alwin.”

  Kuusisten recounted the events in the Yotai system.

  “Damn.” Vara, wearing a grim expression, shook his head. “We’re hoping those bogies were the first to come out of the badlands with the disease, but there’s no telling whether others might have contaminated former imperial worlds in the sector, such as Yotai. And since we don’t know what it is, let alone how it’s transmitted...”

  Kuusisten’s shoulders twitched in a helpless shrug.

  “My medical officers will run physical exams of the crew and our passenger while we wait for the results of your investigation, just in case. As they say, prepare for the worst and hope for the best. That should be the Navy’s unofficial motto if you ask me.”

  “Never take counsel from your fears, Alwin. The odds are in your favor. If this Stearn Roget was infected on Yotai, chances are good the disease would have manifested in some way by now, considering the weakened state he was in when you found him.”

  “True.” Kuusisten exhaled loudly. “What a mess. Can you imagine if a fatal sickness spreads across the galaxy with the help of rabid reivers? We might be the last humans left in a few years.”

  “I’m trying hard not to think of it.”

  “Well, if there was nothing else for the moment, I’ll convene my department heads and pass on the joyful news.”

  “After which, your counselor and medical officers should speak to mine and Ivan Rebroff’s.”

  “Absolutely. With your permission, sir?”

  “Go. Savage, out.”

  **

  “This bizarre-looking thing,” Sister Laerta, Savage’s chief medical officer, pointed at the conference room’s main display, “is our culprit. A virus unlike any other ever seen, but despite its disturbingly demonic appearance, the pathogen is one that thrives in organisms whose ancestors evolved on Earth. That means it’s almost certainly not of alien origin, nor, I suspect, is it of natural origin.”

  Two tense days had passed since Dawn Hunter’s arrival and the medical probe’s recovery of a barbarian corpse suitable for analysis.

  Vara shook his head in disgust. “Wonderful. So, Secretary DeCarde could be right. It might come from an imperial bioweapon lab looted by barbarians.”

  “Perhaps. Or this pathogen is natural but has mutated beyond recognition and became something that bears no resemblance to known viruses. We won’t be able to tell where it comes from and what it does without further in-depth study. I focused on getting a clear identification so we can search for its presence in Dawn Hunter. Besides, we neither have infectious disease specialists nor the proper equipment. Perhaps the Navy could set up a remotely operated lab here — say one module for the lab itself and one unconnected module for researchers — and work with the specimens we’ve already extracted. If this is spreading throughout human space, we will face it again.”

  “What about an antiviral?” Lieutenant Commander Kuusisten, or rather his hologram, asked.

  Laerta gave him a rueful glance. “Sorry. I’m a generalist, so that would be well beyond my competence. But my findings are already in the hands of the finest specialists back on Lyonesse. And now that we know what to look for, Sister Cory can test whether your crew picked up a nasty little hitchhiker. She’ll test your environmental filters as well. If the pathogen is present in the air, it will show up.”

  Sister Brienne let out an exasperated sigh. “Why would anyone deliberately develop such a horrible thing?”

  “Why do humans insist on periodically slaughtering each other in wars of unimaginable destructiveness?” Vara raised his hands, palms up. “Imagine if our major wars hadn’t happened. There would be enough humans to colonize half the galaxy by now.”

  “And do so in peace, one would hope.” Laerta looked around the table at Savage’s department heads. “I’m open to questions, but beyond identifying the virus, I can’t tell you much more about it.”

  When no one spoke up, Vara tapped the tabletop with his extended fingers.

  “Clearing Dawn Hunter is the immediate priority. She’s been away for the better part of a year, and her people need Lyonesse’s pure air in their lungs again. HQ will rule on anything beyond that, but I’ll suggest the Navy set up a fully equipped lab that can study what, for lack of a better term, we’ll call the Unidentified Virus for now. Any last-minute comments or questions?”

  He gave those present, either in person or via hologram, a full minute to respond. No one did.

  “Since there’s nothing more to discuss at the moment, thank you. Commander Kuusisten, I look forward to your report once Sister Cory and her staff run the tests.”

  “Sir.”

  “Dismissed.”

  The holograms of Ivan Rebroff and Dawn Hunter’s captains vanished as the department heads stood. Sister Brienne gave Sister Laerta a barely perceptible sign, and both lingered until only they and Vara remained in the conference room.

  He looked expectantly from one to the other. “Yes?”

  “Even if Cory finds no trace of the pathogen in Dawn Hunter’s crew or environmental filters when she runs her analysis,” Sister Laerta said, “I’m sure Lyonesse will impose a lengthy quarantine once the specialists back home study my findings. I didn’t raise the matter in front of Captain Kuusisten since I’m not qualified to make recommendations, let alone decisions. But we don’t know how well this virus can hide, nor what its incubation time is. Dawn Hunter could still be a plague ship even if her last contact with a planetary atmosphere was two weeks ago.”

  “Understood. We’ll wait until the experts on Lyonesse pronounce judgment before we let Dawn Hunter leave Outer Picket. Until then, she’s legally under my command. Captain Kuusisten won’t act without my permission. He’s a solid officer. One of the best.”

  “Our survival as the last bastion of advanced humanity, or at least one of the last bastions, may depend on it.”

  A skeptical expression crossed Vara’s face. “I’m not sure it’s quite so dramatic, Sister.”

  “Are you willing to take that chance?”

  — 12 —

  ––––––––

  “Gwenneth. Welcome!” Jonas Morane beamed at her as he swept his arm toward the open door behind him when the head of the Order emerged from her aircar carrying a small valise.

  She returned his affectionate smile with one of her own.

  “Jonas. You look as hale and hearty as ever. I didn’t notice your guard detail on the way in.”

  “They noticed you and let me know the moment you crossed the perimeter. We changed protocols, so Emma and I could enjoy more privacy without affecting our security.” He nodded at the woods beyond the estate’s imitation forged iron fence. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but there’s a guardhouse hidden among the trees, one undetectable unless you stumble over it. From there, my security team can detect any intrusion and dea
l with it.”

  Gwenneth climbed the broad stone steps and followed Morane into the modest two-story house. Sitting on a rise overlooking one of the Middle Sea’s many secluded inlets, the home built by Lyonesse’s second president and his partner, Emma Reyes, was clad in pinkish-gray granite and topped by a dark green metal roof. It could withstand the worst Lyonesse’s weather might throw at it during the stormy season while still allowing for a quiet, genteel life in a subtropical environment. Morane and Reyes had official quarters in a wing of Government House but rarely used them.

  The inlet, renamed Vanquish Bay in honor of Morane’s former command, was a mere fifty kilometers southwest of Lannion. Less than an hour by land and only fifteen minutes in an aircar — an easy commute for both the republic’s president and his now-retired partner.

  “You arrived just in time.” Emma Reyes, a lithe woman whose silver-tinged red hair and delicate features belied a long life on Lyonesse and other imperial worlds, smiled warmly when they entered the plant-filled solarium. She gestured at the broad expanse of south-facing windows made from transparent aluminum. Menacing clouds were piling up over the open sea at an alarming rate. “I figure it’ll be one heck of a soaking, and I so love sitting out a monsoon downpour in here. Watching all that water cascade off the roof will be fun. Are you staying overnight for a change?”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “Of course, we don’t mind. You’re almost part of the family. Are your Brethren becoming tiresome again?”

  “A few of them.” Gwenneth gave Morane a nod of thanks when he took her bag.

  “It’ll be in your usual room. Tea?” He waited for both women to reply before leaving the solarium.

  Reyes gestured at well-padded chairs facing the windows.

  “Shall we sit and watch the storm?”

  “As opposed to discussing the other sort of storm closing on us?” Gwenneth asked with a mischievous smile.

  “I’m sure Jonas will guide the conversation in that direction. He was getting a tad bored with his role as president now that the administration is working like a finely-tuned engine. But recent developments perked him up again.”