Chapter Seven
King Ouros awakened slowly, his thinking dulled by the tranquilizer. He was frustrated by how slowly his vision cleared and disliked that age was affecting his reactions. He had been returned to his royal chamber and was in his human form, Ignita beside him, as he might have anticipated.
She smiled when he stirred and stopped her fluttering. “Welcome back,” she said, and he heard the relief in her tone.
So, she had noticed the greater effect of the drug upon him, as well.
Six hundred Incendium years wasn’t that old.
The change, though, made Ouros grumpy. His knee was sore and he had a feeling he’d been singed on his back, undoubtedly by Thalina’s dragon fire. He scowled at his servants, aware that only Kraw didn’t retreat.
The viceroy’s mustache might have wilted a little, though.
“And?” Ouros demanded, already guessing the answer from Ector’s expression.
“The princess Thalina escaped Incendium with the android, your highness,” the Captain of the Guard supplied.
“Escaped?” the king echoed in outrage.
“The android had apparently rented a Starpod and they went to the port,” Ector supplied.
“Would you have rather they were shot down?” Ignita asked, her tone doing nothing to improve Ouros’ mood.
“The starport is still Incendium territory,” he said. “We must pursue them and uphold the law…”
Ector grimaced, his discomfiture clear. “I must inform your majesty that the princess Thalina and the android Acion are no longer at the starport.”
“What?” Ouros sat up so quickly that Ignita placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “How can this be?”
“They found passage, your highness,” Ector began.
“Passage?” Ouros roared. “Who would so defy the law of Incendium to provide passage to a runaway princess and an android?”
His chamber was silent after the question, and the gazes of both guard and viceroy dropped to the ground.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Ouros whispered, a thousand dreadful possibilities filling his thoughts. Had Thalina been injured? Had the android launched some wicked plan against Incendium? And what about that vial? What had happened to it? What was in it?
“They aren’t telling you what you should already have guessed,” Ignita said, perching on the side of his bed. “There is only one captain with the authority to override any command to secure departures, and only person in all of Incendium who would so defy you.”
“Anguissa,” Ouros said, his rebellious daughter’s name leaving his lips in a long hiss.
“Exactly, your highness,” Ector replied. “The Archangel had only just returned but departed almost immediately. It has jumped to distant vector of the galaxy. It appears that the coordinates provided by Captain Anguissa on departure were not the actual destination, and we are attempting to determine the ship’s precise location…”
“Don’t bother,” Ouros said. “Anguissa knows enough about our systems to outwit them. If she wants to hide, she’ll manage to do it.” His voice rose. “She should never have been permitted to depart!”
“I commanded the port to let her go,” Ignita said quietly.
Ouros turned an outraged glance upon his wife, but she only shook her head at him.
“Would you have ordered them to eliminate two of your daughters at once?” she demanded, her eyes flashing. “Anguissa was determined to go, and you know she never backs down.”
“And you know for certain that Thalina was aboard?”
“She must have been. The sensors changed their data about the number of life forms. There were two and then just one, as if Anguissa was alone.” Ignita lifted a shoulder. “But the count changed after they’d left the dock.”
“Androids,” Ouros muttered, his anger rising again. “Who knows what they have planned. You should never have let them escape!”
“The Seed, Ouros,” Ignita said with quiet urgency. “Thalina’s senses are filled with the Seed, and she will naturally be protective of the Carrier of the Seed. You can’t blame her for wanting to know if he is her HeartKeeper or not, for wanting enough time to be sure.”
“He’s an android!”
“But still the Carrier of the Seed. Even this challenges our assumptions. She must have discovered some detail that gives her hope for their future.”
Ouros considered this, then sighed. “And so she pursued the only possible path. She removed him from Incendium, so he wouldn’t be executed, in order to have that increment of time.” He shook his head. “And she located the only ally who would have helped her in Anguissa.”
“Exactly!” Ignita concluded. “Thalina’s very logical.”
“And yet, a romantic, as well,” the king mused.
Kraw cleared his throat. “If I might say so, your majesty, the best scientific thinkers are also idealists, in my view. They investigate the world in all its detail, in the hope of improving it in future.”
“With androids.” Ouros sighed again, feeling every hour of his age.
He rose from his bed and began to pace the width of the chamber, ignoring Ignita’s efforts to halt him. The room was silent again, as the others waited for his decision. He paused beside his queen and smiled. “Remember the Seed?” he murmured to her. “Remember the madness it awakened?”
She smiled back at him, her eyes shining. “I wouldn’t call passion a madness.”
“No, nor would I.” He touched her cheek with affection, then turned to his viceroy and Captain of the Guard. “Thalina is not entirely aware of what she is doing. She is drive by the Seed to defend the Carrier and to attempt to secure a future for them. I hold her blameless in this situation.” He folded his hands behind his back. “Anguissa, in contrast, is fully aware that what she has done is in direct defiance of my will. When she returns to Incendium, whenever that might be, the Archangel will be compounded and broken down into component parts while she is compelled to watch. Whatever stores are in the Archangel’s holds will be surrendered to me and if they are illicit, Anguissa will be charged under the fullest extent of the law. Anguissa’s pilot license will be forfeit and she will be confined to Incendium for a hundred years. There will be no negotiation. That she may have endangered Thalina with her actions is unacceptable. Anguissa has defied me for the last time.”
“It will be as you command, your highness,” Ector said and bowed.
“But what if Anguissa doesn’t return?” Ignita asked.
Ouros heard the unspoken question. What if neither of their daughters returned, by choice or otherwise? The idea sickened him.
He strode to the window. He looked out over the imperial city in all its prosperity and watched the shuttles rising to the starport without really seeing them. “Anguissa will return,” he said, knowing his wife wouldn’t like his next words. “It’s Thalina who may be gone forever.” He glanced over his shoulder at Ignita, who looked horrified. “She has chosen the Carrier over her home, a choice influenced by the Seed but a decision all the same.”
“But she will have a child!” Ignita said, coming quickly to his side. “We will have a grandchild! We must see them both!”
“I am caught between the law of my kingdom and the desire of my heart,” Ouros said, taking Ignita’s wife in his hand. He turned to Kraw. “Assemble an advisory council of our best lawyers, please, Kraw. I want a list of every single potential loophole to Scintillon’s Law, as well as the possibilities of modifying that legislation.”
“It will be done, your majesty, though I feel compelled to remind you that Scintillon’s Law is studied even beyond Incendium as an example of a perfectly structured law that cannot be appealed.”
“I know, Kraw,” Ouros acknowledged, his heart heavy. “But I have to try.”
“Understood, your majesty.”
When Kraw and Ector were both gone and the door secured, Ignita turned to him. “How much tranquilizer did you ingest?” she demanded.
Of course, his wife would want to know the details. There had always been complete honesty between them and Ouros wasn’t going to change that now.
Even though he winced. “Each dart was loaded with one third of the dose required to put Thalina to sleep. Maybe half of it entered my system before I removed the dart.”
“That’s all?” Ignita demanded, her eyes flashing. “But you are larger than Thalina…”
“And older, my beloved. And older.” Ouros shook his head. Six hundred years. And five hundred as king. Where had the time gone? He considered the sun of their system, disliking that it was closer than it had once been. How could he ensure the future beyond his own inevitable demise? How could he defend those of his lineage still to come? And what of the citizens who relied upon him to guarantee their future?
He admired the elegance of Troy’s theory that the birth of Gravitas might affect the speed of Incendium’s fall into the sun, but he didn’t have the same faith in the power of mind over matter. The astrologists had checked and double-checked, and at best, the change had added several hundred years to the projected survival of Incendium. He supposed colonization should be explored again and in greater detail.
It was, Ouros feared, a task for a younger king.
Ignita came to stand behind Ouros and slid her arms around his waist. He smiled at the press of her body against his own. “The Seed,” she breathed, her touch and her words improving his mood. “I could smell it when they brought you to your chambers. Do you remember that summer night on Excandesco?”
Ouros covered her hand with his. “How could I forget? It was the first night of the rest of my life.”
“I can still see the fireflies dancing for us.”
“They weren’t what beguiled me,” he said, squeezing her hand.
Ignita chuckled. “Oh, you haven’t lost your charm, Ouros of Incendium,” she said, her voice husky as Ouros turned in her embrace. “I’m so glad I ignored my sister’s advice and let you live.”
Ouros chuckled. “I’m so glad you agreed to be my queen. Imagine! You would have had only Drakina if you’d sacrificed me.”
“More importantly, I wouldn’t have you,” she replied. “I love my girls, Ouros, but you were the one I agreed to share my life with.”
He bent to kiss her, that old heat simmering in his veins with new vigor.
“I thought you had to rest,” Ignita whispered when she could.
“I’m not that old yet,” Ouros growled. “Let me remind you of the power of the Seed.”
* * *
The Hive checked all of its incoming data feeds.
There was no report from Acion.
It was extremely unlikely that Acion would fail to surrender his report as scheduled, which could only mean that he had been incapable of doing so. The android had been eliminated on Incendium before delivering an update to the Hive.
Which meant that the Hive’s experiment had delivered no results.
Had the ShadowCaster been delivered?
Had the new programming elicited the same responses in Acion as in Arista? Had he gone rogue or malfunctioned?
The Hive reviewed the mission and its mandate, the enhancements made to Acion, then the detail known about Incendium. The file contained far more than the cursory summary in Acion’s brief, including much about one detail that hadn’t been included in that brief.
Scintillon’s Law.
There had been a small chance that the law had been repealed since the Hive had been able to gather intelligence about Incendium. Indeed, the Hive’s information about Incendium had been collected slightly before the passing of Scintillon’s Law.
The Hive remembered Scintillon and his sons.
There had been another, slightly larger, chance that centuries without encountering androids might have left the Incendians unprepared to execute their own law. The Hive, in fact, had relied upon a delay, a legal pursuit of an appeal, even though Scintillon’s Law did not allow one.
The Hive considered this to be a logical development, and had concluded it would allow sufficient time to ensure that Acion made one remote report before his elimination. There had been an elegance in ensuring that the android with the enhanced programming would be eliminated in the course of its mission, by undertaking that mission on a planet hostile to androids.
But given the silence from that android, the Hive determined that it was now highly probable that Acion had been destroyed on Incendium, perhaps even before delivering the ShadowCaster to King Ouros. That would mean that the ShadowCaster had also been destroyed, given its secure location within Acion’s shell.
The Hive had taken a calculated risk, reasoning that Acion would be more efficient in pursuing his objectives than the Incendians would be in enforcing their law.
This had been an error.
The Hive was not accustomed to making errors. The Hive rechecked its conclusions a hundred times in rapid succession, only to make the same conclusion each time. There must have been another variable—or more—introduced, as the calculations were flawless. The assumptions and antecedents for the Hive’s calculations had to be altered to reflect this new information.
Because the test of the new programming must be repeated, in order to determine its full influence, power and peril.
The Hive began a search of its databanks to identify the next android it would enhance.
* * *
Captain Hellemut scowled at the screens in the cockpit of the Armada Seven. Ryke knew better than to challenge his captain when her expression was so dark. In fact, all of the crew hunched a little lower as if to become invisible. No one wanted to become a target of her legendary wrath.
“Again,” she muttered and beckoned, her gesture bringing the image into higher resolution. “Is that or is that not the Archangel again, Ryke?”
Hellemut adored rhetorical questions, but Ryke wasn’t going to be the one to tell her how tedious they were.
“It is, Captain,” he confirmed, knowing better than to anticipate the next question. His own heart squeezed a little that the ship had returned. Its captain was glorious in her fury, even when confronted on the comm by Hellemut. Anguissa hadn’t backed down quickly and had been so beautiful in her defiance that Ryke had later researched her.
A dragon shifter princess and a rebel. Trouble and then some.
And back. His heart skipped.
“In the same quadrant?” Hellemut invited.
“Yes, Captain.”
“The same position?”
“Very close, Captain. You have an excellent eye for judging distance.”
Hellemut spun in her chair to face him, her three green eyes sparkling with malice. “And what have I told you about repeat visitors to the quadrant claimed by the Gloria Furore and defended by the Armada Seven, Ryke?”
“That one visit might be an accident, but that the second is a provocation.”
Hellemut smiled, although it wasn’t a pleasant expression. “I have trained you well,” she said with satisfaction. She spun to face the main screens again and drummed her fingers for a moment. “How many life forms aboard?”
“Only one, captain,” supplied another crew member. “The mass and heat match that of the princess Anguissa, derived from your previous exchange with her.”
“Excellent. She is taunting us.” Hellemut smiled and straightened. “It is time to teach the princess Anguissa a lesson about provocation.”
Ryke made a notation of the order. The thing was, it didn’t look like foolishness when Anguissa challenged Hellemut.
It looked a lot like bravery.
He wondered what scheme she had in returning so soon to the same quadrant, and what plan she had for Hellemut. Ryke’s research had fed his admiration of the notoriously audacious dragon princess. She was every bit as dangerous as Hellemut: he doubted her morals were much better, but Anguissa was beautiful.
And she was inclined to serve the greater good, even over her own.
That combination had a way of tempting Ryke to make mistakes, like the one that had landed him in the custody of the Gloria Furore in the first place. Why had Anguissa come back? He doubted it was an accident or even a provocation.
She had a reason and Ryke was curious about it.
At Hellemut’s gesture, he opened the comm and hailed the Archangel.
* * *
Thalina had forgotten how much she hated jumping.
And this time, she hadn’t been sufficiently hydrated, which only made the effects worse.
There was a reason why she stayed home on Incendium. Thalina had traveled as a young dragon princess, but had never found anywhere with sufficient allure to justify regular space travel. The jump made her feel as if she was stretched thin and turned inside out, taken apart and then put back together again—by someone who hadn’t read the directions. She was a clock smashed on the ground and dumped back into its casing, workings all a-jumble and everything in need of calibration and adjustment. That feeling was only worse this time.
Was it because the Seed taken root?
Was she pregnant? The possibility filled her with delight and concern.
She opened her eyes warily when the jump was completed. Anguissa, of course, was checking the Archangel’s systems and appeared to be unaffected. Acion already had new membrane on his left arm and also appeared to be unaffected. He probably was, since it was biological organisms who took space travel harder. He frowned at the console, then scanned the display.
“You said this sector would be vacant,” he noted and Anguissa frowned in turn.
She tapped up the display then grimaced. “That’s the problem with a quick departure.”
“Where are we?” Thalina asked.
“Where we shouldn’t be,” Anguissa muttered. “I called up a list of recently visited locations and chose the wrong one. We’re too far out. Frack. I don’t usually make these kinds of mistakes.”
When she realized that Acion was calculating, Thalina’s fear rose. “But we can get to Cumae, right?”
Acion was tapping the console, his eyes moving rapidly as he absorbed data, and she knew he’d tell her the truth. No matter what it was. “There are sufficient stores for one life form to reach Cumae or to return to Incendium,” he said. “Not both.”
“That makes no sense,” Thalina said.
“Our present location is distant from both planets,” Acion informed her. He drew a triangle in the air, one with a long point. “Consider that we are here.” He indicated the single point. “To jump to one or the other is a difference of direction more than distance.” He tapped. “That said, the individual would have several days of minimal nourishment if Incendium was chosen as destination, but would still arrive alive.”
Thalina sat down hard. This was a lot more adventure than she’d planned on having.
“Is this not danger?” Acion asked, apparently noticing her reaction.
Thalina nodded, remembering their earlier discussion. “I think it would count.”
“Then I shall add to my experiences with it.” He tilted his head. “You do not appear to be enjoying it as much as I would have anticipated.”
“Maybe it’s different when you have someone else to take care of,” Thalina said and spread her hand over her flat stomach. Acion’s eyes flicked and he was very still for a long moment. Their gazes met and locked, and she knew that he understood her implication.
How did he feel about them having a child?
Did he feel anything at all?
“Not to interrupt you two, but we’ve got more trouble than supplies,” Anguissa said. She pushed Thalina down to the floor, then gave her a shove when she might have argued.
“What?”
“I know that ship.” Anguissa pointed to the far side of the deck with an imperiousness Thalina instinctively obeyed.
“We are being hailed,” Acion said. “By the other ship in the quadrant.”
“By Captain Hellemut of the Armada Seven,” Anguissa said, not a shred of doubt in her tone.
“You anticipated this meeting?” Acion asked.
“No, but I recognize the ship and I know its captain well enough to speculate on her plans.”
“Ah!” Acion said.
Anguissa spun in her chair, then stood up abruptly. “Okay, this is what’s going to happen, Robot, and you’re going to make it so.” She leaned toward Acion and whispered rapidly to him.
Thalina thought it was a bad sign that she couldn’t hear her sister’s words.
“This is illogical,” Acion protested when Anguissa stopped talking.
“On the contrary, it’s the only thing that makes sense,” she insisted. “You exist to serve right?”
“Correct.”
“And I’m your captain, so I command you to do this in order to defend my sister.”
Acion frowned.
“What’s happening?” Thalina demanded.
Anguissa glared at Thalina. “Stay out of view and keep silent if you want to live. You do not want to mess with these people.”
“Who are they?”
“Frack knows but they work for the Gloria Furore.”
Thalina stayed out of view and kept silent because that was all the warning she needed.
“And strap down,” Anguissa added in a growl.
“This is excellent advice,” Acion agreed, firing a look at Thalina.
She did what she was told, remembering everything she’d ever heard about the Gloria Furore. The notorious and secretive band of thieves roved the galaxy, stealing, hijacking, kidnapping, and selling to the highest bidder. Weren’t they the ones who had snatched Troy from Terra? Thalina’s panic rose. She couldn’t die right after she met the Carrier of the Seed, could she? She couldn’t be killed before she knew whether Acion was her HeartKeeper, before she had his child, before she contributed to the future?
Or made a future?
This wasn’t fair!
She did so much better with automatons. With logical systems and creatures. With androids who calculated probabilities…
One life form.
Thalina’s lips parted as she realized who Anguissa had decided that one life form was going to be.
Of course. Anguissa was going to give Thalina a future.
Before Thalina could protest, her sister stood up and went to the deck, propping her hands on her hips as she faced the screen. “Open the frequency to hail, Robot.” Anguissa commanded, just as Thalina realized the markings on the deck indicated that it was also a transport deck. “Let’s do this thing. Oxygen is wasting.”
Thalina bit her lip, feeling helpless, even as the image of the ugliest creature she’d ever seen filled the screen. Anguissa didn’t even flinch. “Greetings, Captain Hellemut,” she said in the universal tongue. She spoke with a more gutteral accent than usual, but Thalina could still follow the words. “How I have missed the sunshine of your smile.”
“You are a fool to return, Captain Anguissa,” that creature said, its voice also gutteral yet oddly feminine. “And I thought you were clever.”
“I just dislike unfinished business,” Anguissa said.
“The Archangel is targeted by all of our weapons, Captain Anguissa. You are in no position to negotiate.”
“What do you want?”
“Surrender, of course.”
“And then?”
“You, first,” the three-eyed monster said with glee. “And then the Archangel.”
“And if I decline this generous offer?”
“I’ll obliterate you both together, right now.”
“How very persuasive you are, Captain Hellemut.” Anguissa raised her hands. “Open a beam to transport me to your deck so I can surrender in person.”
The creature chuckled. Thalina saw the display on the console register the locking of the tracking beam. Anguissa gave a nod to Acion, winking at Thalina when she turned her head so that the other captain couldn’t see.
Thalina blinked and Anguissa was gone.
Anguissa was giving Thalina a future at the price of her own.
“Prepare to jump,” Acion said softly in warning, right before Thalina was turned inside out all over again. She didn’t dare to scream her sister’s name aloud, but it echoed in her thoughts as the Archangel jumped again.
* * *
Sacrifice.
Acion searched his records.
(verb) To make an offering of; to destroy, surrender, or suffer to be lost, for the sake of obtaining something; to give up in favor of a higher or more imperative object or duty.
Anguissa had sacrificed her life to ensure that Thalina survived.
Because Thalina carried a child?
Because Thalina was her sister?
Acion didn’t know. It was impossible to precisely calculate Anguissa’s motivation without a better understanding of her nature. He reviewed the confrontation in the Hoard and recognized that Thalina had been prepared to sustain injury in his defense. That, too, was a sacrifice of her welfare.
The logical question was whether he would make a similar sacrifice under any circumstance, and what that circumstance would be.
Acion was startled to realize that he had done so, also in the Hoard. He had attacked the guards instead of fleeing, in order to protect Thalina from the dart.
Pride flooded through him, warming his entire body in a most unusual and very pleasant way. This augmentation to his programming vastly enhanced his experience.
He was aware of Thalina, and her discomfort during the jump. Biological organisms experienced the jump as a short interval of time, which was merciful given its effect upon their bodies. (They contained too much water.) Acion, as usual, found his reasoning accelerated, as an effect of the jump.
This time, there was an ache deep in his joints, perhaps a function of two jumps in rapid succession. He would have to analyze that later.
For the moment, he was investigating the ship’s navigation system. It struck him as highly improbable that an experienced pilot like Anguissa would have made such a mistake in charting her course. She was daring and bold, but that was born of confidence, which could only have been reinforced by success.
When he found the explanation, he felt disappointment.
Anger.
Betrayal.
Thalina would have to be told.
Acion returned to the initial question, somewhat startled to reason that there was a one hundred per cent probability that he would sacrifice his own existence for that of Thalina. Even though his existence wasn’t his to squander.
He existed to serve, but he would serve Thalina first.
It wasn’t just because of the Seed.
It was because he loved her.
He felt more than desire or admiration. He felt more than a preference for her company. He felt an imperative to be with her, to defend her, to see the child that resulted from the Seed, and even, to build a life together.
Acion knew he had no right to want any of those things. Until very recently, that wouldn’t have troubled him. He knew his place and accepted it.
But now, he felt rebellion rise within him.
If he hadn’t already programmed the coordinates of Cumae into the system and launched the jump, he might have even changed their course. As it was, the Archangel came out of the jump, in high orbit around Cumae. Acion could see the starport, a much smaller and more utilitarian starport than that of Incendium.
He let the ship’s nav system chart the docking and commence the approach. Their fuel was as low as anticipated. Would they be able to obtain more here at Cumae’s port? He couldn’t find a reference for the Archangel having docked here recently, much less determine easily whether Anguissa had credit. No doubt she locked the access to deter theft. He could probably undermine her security measures, but that would take time.
Time Acion might not have. The dock loomed closer.
He began to calculate the most fuel-efficient way to return Thalina to Incendium.
He would make his report to the Hive.
He would complete his duty.
And he would take—or send—Thalina home. Her father wouldn’t turn her away, especially not if she carried a child. And if his own destruction was the price of ensuring Thalina’s safety, Acion would pay it.
Gladly.
* * *
Anguissa.
Her sister’s fate was Thalina’s first concern when she awakened after the jump.
The second was that she felt worse than she had in four hundred Incendium years.
“There is a dehydrated food item in the receptacle beneath your right arm,” Acion said. “Although I believe you are in greater need of water.”
“Jumping is the worst when you’re dehydrated,” Thalina agreed and got up, realizing that she was speaking for herself. Acion probably couldn’t even be dehydrated. There was a low force of gravity, so she was able to walk across the deck. Acion pointed and she saw the galley, where she found containers of water. She opened one and drank from the spout molded into the container. Relief immediately spread through her body and her aches began to fade.
She considered the starport on the display. “Where are we?”
“Cumae, as anticipated. The Interfractal Drive on the Archangel is remarkably efficient and accurate. Your sister’s enhancements to the drive were excellent.”
“I’ll bet they weren’t the only ones. This ship is probably full of secrets.” Thalina sat down in the captain’s chair. She was aware of how recently Anguissa had sat there and imagined that she could feel the heat of her sister’s body lingering in the upholstery. She certainly could smell her perfume.
“Perhaps so. There is an access with an airlock, which is of considerable size. The curious thing is that the openings on the airlocks are considerably smaller than the one on the ship’s exterior.” Acion gave Thalina a considering look. “Did your sister hijack ships?”
“Maybe.” Thalina thought. “Or maybe it was for her in dragon form.”
Acion frowned. “In space?”
“We can generate a biological orb for interplanetary travel. Maybe Anguissa was better at it than the rest of us. It’s unlikely she would tell us about it.”
He nodded. “So, she would enter the airlock in dragon form, in the orb, then shift shape?”
“It makes sense.”
“And the orb?”
“The craft of creating and dissolving one is a closely kept secret amongst my kind.”
“Ah.” Acion worked in silence for a few moments, until Thalina asked what she most wanted to know.
“Do you think she’s dead?”
Acion paused before he replied. “If she is lucky.”
Thalina winced. “I’m surprised that she made a mistake. I’m really sorry that our quick departure was responsible.”
“She did not make a mistake,” Acion supplied, his words tight.
Thalina sat up. “What do you mean? How do you know?”
“The navigation device of the Archangel was infiltrated and sabotaged. I have discovered a worm that would override any selected coordinates with those of the sector we visited.”
“The one with Captain Hellemut’s ship,” Thalina said.
Acion met her gaze. “It appears that your sister was betrayed. She did not err. The worm was programmed to activate after X number of jumps, when X was defined as a random number between one and ten. I am sorry, Thalina, but it was only a matter of time before the Archangel returned to that quadrant.”
“No wonder the other ship was waiting.”
“Indeed. The captain of the Armada Seven experienced no surprise, only triumph in the success of her plan.”
“But why?”
Acion tapped the console, shaking his head. “It appears that there was an earlier altercation between the two captains in that same sector.”
“And Anguissa won, so the other captain wanted another chance.”
“One in which she had the element of surprise on her side, yes.” Acion nodded. “I calculate a very high probability that your sister was glad to take this challenge while she was apparently alone. There is considerable evidence in the records of her protectiveness toward her crew.”
Thalina smiled. “She’s a dragon princess. We take care of our own.”
Acion eyed her. “Even though one of them betrayed her.”
Thalina nodded. “Even so. Anguissa would have said that she did the right thing, even if whoever planted the worm didn’t.”
Acion tilted his head, considering. “Yes. I see that her protectiveness was a dominant trait and one she perceived as a measure of character.”
“It’s a mark of our kind.”
“Which was why she protected you.”
Thalina blinked back tears. “I wish I could have done the same for her.”
Acion didn’t speak for a moment, just watched the approaching dock of the starport. “I will speculate,” he said quietly, “that the princess Anguissa is not at as much of a disadvantage as Captain Hellemut might believe.”
“How so?”
“I find no evidence that Anguissa’s true nature was revealed in their previous encounter, and further, that Captain Hellemut appears to be a leader who relies more on brute force than research.” He turned to Thalina, a little smile curving his lips. Her heart skipped. “I must wonder in which form Anguissa arrived on the teleport deck of the Armada Seven.”
Thalina laughed despite herself, surprised by Acion’s words and also reassured by them. “I wouldn’t want to face her, not if I’d revealed an intent to destroy her ship.”
“Exactly.”
“Present identification for all occupants, Archangel,” came the voice from the port.
Acion tapped the console, obeying the instruction. “Identification dispatched.”
“Only one life form aboard and one android?”
“That is correct.”
There was a pause. “Android Acion, your identification has been flagged. Upon docking, please proceed alone to room 65X. Princess Thalina, welcome to Cumae.”
“What’s going on?” Thalina asked in a whisper.
“I must make my report to the Hive.” He caught her hand beneath his. “It is protocol. You do not need to be concerned.”
“How long will it take?”
“Not long. There will be a port to accept the transfer of all data I have collected. It is routine.”
Thalina didn’t share his confidence. In fact, she had a hundred questions. Would he remember the data he shared with the Hive? Would he remember her? Would the Hive restrain him or demand something of her? Would they be allowed to leave Cumae?
And where would they go?
“You’re not telling me everything,” she accused.
“You are observant,” Acion agreed. “There is a four per cent chance that something has changed on Cumae since my departure, and that such a change might influence my status and future mobility.”
“What does that mean?”
He opened a panel on the console, revealing the cylinder that held the ShadowCaster. “I never delivered the gift to your father. My failure may influence my ability to return to you.”
Thalina had a lump in her throat. What exactly did he think was going to happen when he made his report? “Will you remember me after the data transfer?”
Acion considered this. “I do not know. Such choices are made by the Hive.”
Thalina was afraid then. “We shouldn’t have come here,” she began as the ship docked and the door was opened automatically.
“Android Acion, your presence in 65X is mandatory. Please proceed to that room with all speed.”
“We had to come here,” Acion reminded her. “My programming requires me to report to the Hive, and my scheduled report was delayed.” He opened a panel on the console, revealing a familiar cylinder secured in the space behind it. Just as before, it appeared to have dark dust in the bottom of it. “I must ask you to act as my Sword Sister in this matter and complete my mission for me. Will you deliver the ShadowCaster to your father, please?”
“I’d be honored to act as your Sword Sister,” Thalina acknowledged. “But I hope I don’t have to.”
“It is not the same as successfully surrendering the gift to your father’s hand, but perhaps this will suffice.”
“But I can’t give it to him, not from here.”
“Of course not, but you will soon return home. The nav system is programmed to take you to Incendium. You have only to leave the starport, then launch the Fractal Interstellar Drive. All of the variables are set…”
Thalina’s heart squeezed, because she knew what the implications of their arrival at Incendium would be. “I don’t have to go home and I don’t want to go home without you…”
“But I cannot go with you, and I do not know what memories the Hive will leave me. Your sister has taught me something of the nature of your kind. I, too, will protect my own,” Acion said firmly. “Ensuring the welfare of you and the child you may carry is my responsibility.”
“But…”
“I must do whatever is necessary to see my mission completed, Thalina.”
“But,” she protested again.
Acion stood and pulled her into his embrace. “There can be no objection,” he said with quiet conviction. “I love you, and this is the best I can do for you. Do not spurn it because it is too little. It is all that we may have.”
“If you can return, you will,” Thalina insisted.
“If I can return, I will,” Acion agreed. “And if I cannot, you will go to Incendium.”
“I will,” Thalina said. “Now, give me a kiss to keep me warm.”
“That is irrational,” Acion began to argue, but Thalina wrapped a hand around his neck, pulled down his head and kissed him thoroughly.