Pleased with her plan to pass the buck, the Parent congratulated herself all the way up to the disgusting throne room and met with the vile creature that squatted within it.
Once Garth and Ornth managed to explain to the other skalds what had occurred, they were not showered with praise or sympathy by the others.
“There is a great mess upon the deck plates, and no servants present to clean it,” complained one of the skinniest and oldest of the men.
“Yes, soon, it will stink,” added another pale, blond female.
Garth recognized this last skald as the one who had tricked him into being mounted by Ornth. He felt a burning urge to murder her, but he knew he would have to bide his time. He could not control even a single finger right now.
Ornth signaled his frustration with the others. “None of that matters now. We have a mission, and it must be accomplished.”
One of the females twittered. It was an odd sound-a form of laughter, but inhuman all the same. “Impossible. We shall be fortunate to live for another week.”
“All the more reason why we must act now. They have already slipped one shrade in here. How much longer before an army of them roam these passages?”
The others shuffled uncertainly.
“What do you propose, Ornth? You are the eldest in our midst.”
“We must leave this trap. We must board a vessel of some kind and hide there. When deceleration is well underway, we will exit the ship discreetly.”
“A grand plan, but one that is impossible to execute.”
“Right now, the enemy knows where we are. They will not rest until they cut their way into this chamber. If we hide elsewhere, we might survive.”
“We would prefer to remain in our fortress. We must rely on the humans to expunge the Skaintz. They are surely hunting them just as they hunt us. After all, this is a human ship.”
“It is unlikely the humans can defeat the colony that holds this vessel,” Ornth pressed, “the probable outcome if they did manage it would be the destruction of the entire ship.”
“I’d rather enjoy an additional quiet hour than invite death now,” said another of them.
Garth thought there was a simple logic to this statement, and approved of it quietly.
“Our entire species may not survive,” Ornth said. “The humans are only herd animals. They will not be able to stop the Skaintz on their own. And our entire people will die soon after that. We must stick to our original plans.”
“Those plans were grandiose, and are currently null and void,” insisted the female with the darkest hair among them. “The weapon may not even exist at this late date.”
“The weapon exists,” Ornth said firmly. “And it is our only hope.”
Garth puzzled inside his head as he listened further, but did not interrupt. In time, it was decided by everyone to remain. Everyone, that was, except for Ornth himself. He grumbled and told the rest he would bring it back up to them all at a general council meeting in the morning.
As the rest of the skalds retired to their individual chambers, Ornth immediately drove Garth’s body to the airlocks and placed a hand on the override pad.
Wait, Garth beseeched him. How do we know what lurks in the passage beyond?
We do not, Ornth said. The enemy has disabled the cameras and security sensors on the outside.
But if there are killbeasts waiting outside, they will rush into this place and slaughter everyone.
Correct. But the mission takes precedence.
Mission? What mission? At least discuss this with the others as you said you would.
They will soon deduce my determination in this matter, and will seek to restrain me, even as you are doing now.
What kind of Tulk are you? I’ve never encountered one with your foolhardy courage.
There were warriors among us once, Ornth said. They were wiped out in the great wars. I account myself as one of the last of their descendants.
Garth despaired. His certitude in his continued misfortunes grew. Of all the Tulk to be saddled with, he had to get one with delusions of glory. He argued and pleaded to no avail as Ornth worked the controls with Garth’s own treacherous hands.
Ornth ignored him to the last and actuated the override.
Aareschlucht sped through space at an astonishing rate. The time soon came when they must slip past Gladius on their route to Ignis Glace. They had never alerted the larger ship of their presence, naturally enough. The plan was to slide past quietly in the depths of space in a blacked-out ship with a dark hull. It was critical that they pass while the ship was coasting, before deceleration began. The plume of their exhaust would give them away if they were within a thousand AU. They were on a transmission black-out, and although they had purposefully taken a course that took them no closer than necessary, in space straight lines were the most expedient paths between star systems. To achieve both speed and stealth was difficult. At the closest point, the two ships would pass within a single AU of one another. That was a difficult distance to manage detection of a passing body in space, but not impossibly so with modern technology.
None knew what had transpired aboard Gladius. Signals had indicated early on that the vessel was secure, and all alien presence had been eradicated. Then, there had been a single distress call-which quickly cut off. After that, radio silence had reigned supreme. The obvious conclusions were two-fold: either the aliens had taken the ship and were maintaining a low-profile, or the crew had managed to destroy themselves and everything else aboard, and a dead ship would come to dock at Ignis Glace in due course.
This was a tense time for all aboard, save for Aldo, who found it almost as boring as the rest of the interminable voyage. In his opinion, it would all be over in the blink of an eye if the enemy did detect them and fired a missile in their direction. The ships were passing at such a great rate, with Aareschlucht moving thousands of miles per second faster, they would never even see it coming on their passive detection systems. The incoming missile would not even require a warhead. A fist-sized rock tossed on the precise path they took would do the trick through kinetic energy alone.
Therefore, Aldo did not worry. He would survive, or he would die. In either case, it was out of his hands and, if he was to end his existence shortly, worrying about it was the last thing he wanted to do.
Despite these grim facts of physics, the crew talked of little else. Everyone had a theory concerning the fate of Gladius and her crew. They speculated aloud as to whether the Aareschlucht ’s passing by would be noted by the enemy in the bigger ship-if the enemy were indeed operating it and watching.
Aldo retired to his private quarters as the rest gathered in the main saloon to watch the passive monitors for any sign of anomalies. Aldo was tired of all of them, and the single member of the crew he was interested in was pointedly avoiding him now.
A knock came at the door about an hour before the estimated time of passage. Aldo sighed and gave an airy wave of his hand. The AI running the room controls unlocked and opened his door in response. He was surprised to see Joelle Tolbert standing there in a satin gown.
He smiled at her, and she smiled back timidly.
“To what do I owe this honor, milady?”
She laughed quietly. “Always the gentleman. May I come in?”
“Of course.”
Joelle stepped inside and took a seat at the desk. Except for Aldo’s bunk, where he sat sharpening his blade with a nano-box, it was the only spot available.
The door closed behind Joelle. She glanced at it, then turned her attention back to him. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were missing at the celebration.”