Nexus by Robert Boyczuk (philippa perry book TXT) 📖

Sav released his grip and Ruen crumpled to the floor, a heap of thin, jaundiced limbs amidst the folds of his soiled robe. On the holy man’s neck were bright red finger marks. Sav let his own arms fall. He prodded the patrix with the toe of his boot.

Ruen didn’t move.

Sav crouched, felt for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there. Strangely, he felt no relief. Felt nothing beyond the cold knowledge that the holy man still lived. He stood. Stepping over the inert form, he dropped into the seat in front of the comm panel and enabled a two way transmission channel.

“Viracosa!” Novitiate Lien’s voice burst from the overhead speaker. “What are-”

Sav stabbed the key to cut the feed and the cabin instantly fell silent. He swivelled his chair around and pushed himself silently from his seat, almost tripping over the holy man, then running lightly across the flight deck until he clutched the ladder belowdecks with one hand. Leaning over the semi-circular opening, he craned his head to listen. Everything was quiet. He crept back to the comm panel, stepping carefully over Ruen’s prone form, and put on the headset. Lien’s voice was carrying on through the tiny speakers.

“…_an act of aggression! You will have to answer to the Polyarchy. And to me!_” A pause. “Do you hear, Viracosa? Are you there? Answer me!”

Sav pressed the transmit key. “This is The Viracosa,” he said softly. “What is your status?”

“Status? You have kidnapped me, attacked my vessel! And you want to know my status?” This was followed by an outburst of guttural syllables.

No matter that Sav didn’t know the language, he understood the intonation well enough. And unless it was a clever act, the Speaker’s invective conveyed both an overt indignation-and a bravado designed to hide her fear. The swearing trailed off, and was followed by several sharp intakes of breath, the sort of breathlessness that, Sav realised, often preceded a full-blown panic. He’d heard a similar kind of gasping over headsets twice before: once when a woman, on an routine EVA inspection after a minor meteoroid strike, had snapped her tether and spun away from the ship; and once when a man, also EVA, had discovered a tiny breach in his suit. Both times Sav had been on the comm board. He had managed to calm the woman, then directed her to use controlled bursts from her spare oxygen cartridge to halt her spin and propel herself back to the ship; the man, however, hadn’t listened. In his panicked scramble for the airlock he only worsened the breach. Metres from safety, the bends got so bad he lost consciousness. By the time someone had managed to clamber into an EVA suit and drag him inside, his lungs had ruptured and he’d suffocated. If Speaker in the tube panicked in the same way, she might do herself, or the relatively weak tube, significant damage.

“Take it easy,” Sav said in as firm a voice as he could muster in a whisper. “Don’t let yourself hyperventilate.”

A single hissing syllable returned over the headset, like the start of an angry word. But she bit off whatever she was going to say at the last second. She sucked in a big breath. And another. Her breathing slowed, approached normal.

“I…I am fine.” Novitiate Lien sounded calmer. Whatever indignation her tone had held before had collapsed.

“Okay,” Sav said. “Now tell me if you’re in any immediate danger.”

“I only have a small amount of oxygen left. I brought only enough life support for a few of your minutes.” There was a pause. Then she added, “That is why I contacted you.”

“Do you see several short, grey cylinders?”

“With red markings?”

“Yeah. Those are cartridges containing an oxygen/nitrogen mix. On the top of each cylinder is a threaded opening with a orange pin in its centre. If you press the pin down, it will release the contents of the tube. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Each cylinder contains a twelve hour supply. And the emergency tube itself is equipped with scrubbers that should be capable of purifying the air you release. Between the two, you should be able to maintain an atmosphere in there for several days.”

“Yes,” she answered. “I count seven cylinders.”

“Good.” At least Josua didn’t lie about that. In the background, Sav could hear the hiss of gas being released from a cylinder. He waited until the sound stopped. “Now listen carefully.”

“I…I am listening.”

“The commander of this vessel is determined to reach the Hub.”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “We already know this.”

“He believes this is the only way we can be certain of obtaining the antidote and fuel for the return journey.” Sav decided it was best not to share any of his own misgivings about Josua’s motivations. “That’s why he took you hostage. He believes your comrades won’t harm us as long as we hold you. But if you can convince the people in charge to get us the antidote before we reach the Hub, I may be able to talk him into releasing you and changing course.”

“You are mad!” Novitiate Lien’s anger had returned. “How can we give you an antidote when we do not know what we are curing? The samples are here. With me! Do you not remember?”

Any sympathy Sav had for the woman evaporated. “You created the plague.”

“My superiors tell me we did not.”

“Then they’re lying.” Bile rose in Sav’s throat, made it hard for him to say the next words. “You murdered millions of innocent people. And now you’re too cowardly to take responsibility.”

“No!” the vehemence of her response caught Sav off guard. “Not me! I did nothing!”

“You were only following orders?” Sav said sardonically.

“The Pro-Locutors tell me nothing.”

“Ignorance is no excuse.”

When she spoke again, the bitterness in her voice was unmistakable. “I am a Novitiate, patrolling the outer reaches of Nexus space. Alive or dead, I do not matter to the Pro-Locutors.” Briefly, the channel was silent. “_I do not know who caused your plague. But I am sorry for your people_.”

“Save your pity for yourself. You may need it.”

“So. You will kill me.”

“We don’t want to kill anyone,” Sav answered slowly. “We only want the antidote and safe passage home.”

“Then why have you made your ship into a fission weapon?”

Sav was taken aback. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Could this be another of Nexus’ tricks?

“Our drones detected a nuclear triggering device inside one of your fuel tanks. A one hundred and forty-seven megaton release._ If detonated, the resulting compressive blast will likely trigger a chain reaction in the deuterium_ fuel pellets adding significantly to the yield.”

“You’re crazy!” But as he spoke, Sav knew the truth of her words: it was what Josua had planned from the start. All those secretive runs he’d made back on Bh’Haret. The time he’d spent alone on The Viracosa preparing, as he said, for any “contingency”. The way in which he snarled and delayed negotiations by taking the Speaker hostage and attacking her ship. His obsession with reaching the Hub. It all added up. Revenge. He intended to drive a spike into the heart of Nexus.

“If it’s true,” Sav said slowly, “I knew nothing about it.”

“Ignorance is no excuse,” she said, throwing Sav’s words back at him. “Perhaps we have more in common than you think.” Her tone became oddly subdued. “When my oxygen supply began dwindling, I asked the Pro-Locutors if I could contact you. They forbade it. They told me to wait for permission. By now my oxygen supply would have been spent. I would be suffocating at this moment. And still I have heard nothing. I knew before I was expendable, but it was only an intellectual understanding. Now I know it in my heart. They would have let me die. For all I know, the Pro-Locutors may consider me a liability. Perhaps they were grateful for the opportunity to factor one more variable out of the equation.”

“I don’t understand. They would let you die because of what Josua did?”

“Possibly. Though I think it more likely that they fear I know too much. The relay station must be a well-guarded secret, for I have never heard a whisper of it before. When I became the intermediary between you and the Pro-Locutors, they told me about the station. So that I could discuss the situation with you in a meaningful way. Perhaps they now regret the decision.”

“And when they find out you’re not dead?” Sav asked. “What will they do then?”

“I will tell them I found the oxygen cartridges, and managed to determine their use. They may still arrange for my death afterwards. If I survive….” She spoke with an earnestness that surprised Sav: “We must trust each other if we are both to survive.”

Sav’s first inclination was to laugh aloud. How could he trust her? Her story might be another ploy by Nexus to find out more about the situation aboard The Viracosa. It was the cornerstone of all hostage negotiation: find a commonality, a point of contact with the captors and establish a rapport. When a victim is no longer faceless, it becomes harder to carry out a cold-blooded execution. On the other hand, Lien’s plight could be real, her words sincere. Sav imagined himself trapped in the emergency tube, driving towards the Hub, pinned to the nose of a nuclear bomb. It would certainly provide incentive to co-operate. We must trust each other, she had said.

Sav licked his lips, his throat suddenly gone dry.

He made his decision. What he was about to say could bring a swift death-or their salvation. In a hoarse whisper, he said, “I think Josua’s mad.”

It was out. Immediately Sav felt lighter, like he’d dropped an onerous burden he’d not been aware he was carrying until this moment.

“Josua?”

Sav was momentarily confused; then he realised Lien wouldn’t know their names. “Josua is the Captain of The Viracosa. He’s obsessed with revenge. I think he plans to go to the Hub and detonate the ship-regardless of whether you provide the antidote.”

“It would make sense. After I reported the discovery of the explosives, the Pro-Locutors assumed the bomb was merely another bargaining tool. When it was not mentioned during the initial negotiations, they wondered if there was more to it.”

“Can you do anything to defuse the bomb?”

“I have nanoagents that could be employed. But they are on my vessel which has been disabled. My ship has informed me that it cannot catch us now. Nor do I have anything with me that can help. When I came over to retrieve the samples I was ordered to do nothing that might endanger the negotiations. So I brought only the bare minimum as your Captain requested-a sample cylinder and a basic EVA suit with a few minutes life support.”

“What about other ships? Or the drones? Can they catch us?”

“They have been ordered to stay clear. The Pro-Locutors’ only concern right now is the relay station. It appears to be of primary importance to them. They will do nothing to endanger the Speakers there. I fear they would allow the detonation of your weapon sooner than risking action against your vessel. But what about you? Can you not disable the weapon or,” she paused here, as if searching for the right term, “incapacitate Josua?”

Incapacitate Josua. It had been a possibility he’d considered. Coming from Novitiate Lien, it sounded sordid. He was