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“This is Hatshepsut’s star, alright, sir.” The flag combat information center’s officer of the watch glanced over his shoulder at Commodore Gatam Watanabe. “Repulse’s navigator is one hundred percent sure. It matches what we found in the old imperial star catalog and what Colonel Torma’s prisoner recorded in his log. Now to find the planet itself. The information in the navigation database is just as spotty and out of date as that on the previous star systems.”
“Thank you.” Watanabe swiveled his command chair to face Torma and Ardrix, sitting at their accustomed stations behind him. “I hope this star system isn’t as depressingly wrecked as the others we crossed. Whatever did your man — Keter, was it? Whatever did he find to trade with those poor wretches?”
Task Force Kruzenshtern had stopped at almost a dozen inhabited planets on its way, brief tours in orbit so they could scan the surface and search for traces of human activity. They also visited another two dozen airless worlds that, according to the records, once boasted artificial habitats. Of the latter, they found nothing more than faint traces.
The visits added a couple of weeks to the outbound journey. But neither Watanabe, nor Torma, nor anyone else in the formation could resist the allure of checking on how the rest of the former empire fared two centuries after the Great Scouring. It left them wondering why the Hegemony hadn’t sallied forth and reclaimed those star systems yet.
“Artifacts from imperial times, precious alloys, books which survived the Great Scouring, things of that nature. Items mainly of interest to collectors who no doubt paid well for both the items and Keter’s silence.”
A frown creased Watanabe’s forehead.
“Isn’t collecting imperial artifacts without a government license illegal?”
Torma nodded.
“It is, but those wealthy enough for such a hobby can buy their way around licenses, sir.”
“I see. And what happened to the things your man brought back?”
A grimace.
“I ordered them warehoused until a judge rules on their disposal once Jan Keter has been tried.”
“And found guilty?”
“That’s a foregone conclusion, I’m afraid.” The grimace widened. “Though I suspect many of the items will go walkabout while we’re out here, with the inventory list adjusted accordingly, and I’ll be informed I should ignore any discrepancies. Not by my superior, mind you, but via backchannels. Should I not comply, I would quickly become ineffective as an investigator with doors slammed in my face and resources quietly withdrawn.”
Watanabe’s frown became a scowl.
“Does that happen a lot?”
“More than those of us who hold our duty to the Hegemony sacred would like. We play a delicate balancing game in the Commission and either quickly find the uncrossable lines in the sand or perish.”
“And here I thought you folks were omnipotent, capable of bringing anyone who violates Hegemony laws to a swift and merciless justice.”
A bitter smile replaced Torma’s earlier grimace. “You’d be surprised how many are above those laws, sir.”
Watanabe scoffed. “Because they’re for the little people, right?”
Ardrix inclined her head. “Sadly. But that’s been true in most societies throughout history. If I may ask, how long until we arrive?”
“However long we take to find Hatshepsut. If you’ll recall, we spent anywhere from six to twelve hours finding the other inhabited planets. Add to that our jump inward, on average twelve hours, give or take two, depending on the planet’s position, and another three or so from the hyperlimit. We’ll likely enter orbit sometime tomorrow morning.”
The Sister exchanged a glance with Torma, who rose to his feet.
“Thank you for letting us witness our arrival at Hatshepsut’s heliopause, sir.”
“Enjoy your last day of peace, Colonel, Sister. Once we get there, it’s your show. You’ll be busier than the rest of us then.”
“Indeed, sir. But we shall rely on Repulse to find the city Jan Keter’s log calls Mazaber, so we can land there and interrogate the man who sold him the abbey-made medical instruments, a David Crimple.”
**
Horam found Sister Rianne standing by the port side rail staring at the Aksum coastline the next morning shortly after sunrise, a steaming cup of tea in hand.
“Did you enjoy a good night’s sleep?”
She glanced at him and took a sip.
“Restful. You?”
“Once the adrenaline bled off, I slept like a newborn in his mother’s embrace.” He nodded at the broken landscape bathed by the reddish light of dawn, a raw, damaged mess that bled into the Aksum Sea. “Isn’t that where New Aden stood before the Scouring?”
“Yes. Millions died in a matter of minutes on that unfortunate shore. I can still pick up a faint echo of their fear, anchored as it is to the very granite.”
“Another of those places that give one the shivers,” Fenrir’s voice reached their ears from the aft stairway. “No one has landed there since. We merchant captains keep offshore as much as possible, but there’s little choice along this part of the coast between the reefs and the sunken starship. The Aksum Sea is not only narrow but shallow around here.”
He waved toward the east.
“As you might notice, we can still see the summits of the tallest leeward Saqqara Isles.”
“Sunken starship?” Horam turned around and gave Aswan Trader’s master a questioning glance.
“No one knows the name, but we’ll be passing her within the hour. Look over the starboard side. In these waters, you’ll see her clear as day. Her topsides are shallow enough to present a risk for ships such as mine at low tide.”
“Crashed during the Retribution Fleet’s attack, I suppose?”
Fenrir shrugged.
“No one knows what she is, who operated her, and when she came down.”
“A shame we don’t have any sort of independent air supply system. I’d check her out from up close in an instant. Maybe I could free dive since she’s shallow enough to be considered a navigational hazard.”
Rianne gave her colleague an amused smile.
“Let’s leave the archeology for another time. I’m sure Captain Fenrir isn’t keen on anchoring around here anyhow. Not with what happened over where New Aden once stood. We’ll provide the supply ship with the coordinates, and they can at least give this mystery wreck an intensive scan from low orbit.”
He inclined his head.
“Of course, Sister. But a man can dream. Imagine. A perfectly preserved imperial-era starship almost right beneath our feet.”
“Content yourself with a passing glimpse from above.”
“You may join the lookout on the foremast top if you wish, Friar.” Fenrir gestured at the small platform above the foremast’s mainsail. “It’s the best view I can offer. See the bosun and ask for a safety harness.”
“Thank you, Captain. I will.”
Less than an hour later, warned by the lookout, Horam scrambled up the starboard ratlines and through the lubber’s hole. The sailor who’d called him up made sure he fastened his harness properly, then pointed at a patch of sea off their starboard bow.
“You can just make out a bit of shiny stuff below the surface about a hundred meters away, Friar. That would be her.”
The Lyonesse Marine turned monastic squinted as he sought out what the sailor saw and found it almost at once, a faint shimmer reflecting the early morning sunlight beneath a dappled surface. As they neared, he could trace more of its shape and let out a low whistle. He looked down at the other three Brethren and Captain Fenrir, now leaning over the rail beneath him.
“It’s a big one,” Horam said in a voice that carried. “I figure easily as large as one of our corvettes. Local marine life must not like the hull’s alloy. It’s as spotless as the day she was launched. Probably tried lifting from the New Aden spaceport when the Retribution Fleet came overhead and took a disabling hit. If so, she’s probably the crew’s final resting place.”
“In that case,” Rianne replied, “we should offer the Almighty a prayer on behalf of their souls so that if they’ve been restless in their watery grave since the crash, they might ultimately merge with the Infinite Void.”
The Brethren lowered their heads, imitated by those sailors within earshot who didn’t have immediate duties. When they raised them again, Fenrir let out a soft grunt.
“I guess that’s why this place always feels eerie.” When Rianne gave him a searching glance, he shrugged as if embarrassed by his comment. “I don’t believe in immortal souls or the Infinite Void, but I’ve encountered enough strangeness on this world to wonder whether your lot might be right about certain things.”
“The offer to learn about our beliefs remains open, Lars. We know there are such things as souls because the most talented among my Sisters can feel them. Not me, mind you, at least not yet. I’m still young and relatively inexperienced in comparison with our greatest teachers. Think of what we call a soul, the intangible essence of a living being, if you like, as something which animates our bodies. Every faith throughout human history has that belief in common.”
When he opened his mouth to speak, she held up a hand.
“You wonder why such essences might stay at the site of the body’s death instead of merging into the Void, correct?” When he nodded, she made a dubious face. “I don’t know. Nobody does, but it’s the only explanation for some phenomena we encounter. Unfinished business, perhaps? Or the trauma of death, especially if caused by something as fundamentally evil as Dendera’s Great Scouring, somehow bound the soul to a physical place? We of the Void, who are more sensitive than most humans, know that the universe is stranger than our species can possibly imagine. Our interaction with said strangeness remains largely indecipherable. What you experience as eeriness stems from this interaction.”
Fenrir chuckled.
“Aren’t religions based on interpreting that which is undecipherable?”
“Certainly. Humans crave comforting beliefs, whether they acknowledge it, even those who reject any form of religious faith for whatever reason. The latter simply find something else, political ideology or a militant if not zealous opposition to all religions being the most common substitutes.”
“Funny. I neither believe in an Almighty nor politics or opposition to religion. Where does that leave me?”
A knowing smile lit up Rianne’s face.
“With a plurality of human beings, those who’ve not yet examined themselves or won’t do so lest it upsets long-held preconceptions.”
“And what if I told you my fundamental belief is in profit?”
“Then I’d say you were both lying to and cheating yourself.” She turned her eyes back on the vast, submerged starship hull and reached out. “This is definitely a tomb.”
“One of those interactions, Sister?”
She looked at him once more.
“Yes. I daresay this planet is littered with places where souls were seared by the Retribution Fleet, like so many other worlds once teeming with human beings.”
**
“Found it,” Repulse’s navigator announced when Captain Park answered his communicator.
“Are you sure?”
“A sweet little pea-like ball of blue and white hanging in this star’s habitable zone. Ten and a half hours FTL to its hyperlimit. I’ve advised the flag CIC and synced the task force for hyperspace at the commodore’s command.”
“Well done.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Park, out.”
He finished reading Chapter Ten of Rutan’s History of the Great Scouring, a not quite Hegemony-approved tome, but one the current government hadn’t yet suppressed, then placed his reader on the side table and let out a sigh. Once Task Force Kruzenshtern entered Hatshepsut orbit, events might no longer be under their control.