The Ascendant Stars - Michael Cobley [63]
Then, without warning, Robert felt the ripple-quiver sensation that usually accompanied a hyperdrive jump. Some of the marines shook clenched fists and grinned and there was a palpable air of relief. A series of thuds then came from the rear bulkhead and an entire section swung inwards. The marine teams, laughing and joking, began to troop through.
‘What now?’ Robert asked the sergeant, now helmetless to reveal short-cropped silver hair.
‘You’re the VIP, Mr Bauer,’ he said. ‘You get to meet the captain and the ambassador so I’m sure a plan will come out of it, eh?’
‘Thank you, Sergeant,’ he said. ‘I’m very sorry about Chuang … ’
‘We do our job, Mr Bauer, and Chuang died doing hers.’
The sergeant forestalled any further exchange by indicating the short passage with an ‘after you’ gesture. When Robert reached the T-junction at the other end the familiar stocky figure of Captain Velazquez stepped forward, hand outstretched.
‘Mr Bauer, welcome aboard the Heracles.’
Velazquez’s dark green uniform was as immaculate as ever, although there was noticeably more silver in his thick dark hair. Robert almost grinned at the irony of the situation as he shook the man’s hand, recalling his own physical frailty when he was last on board this ship. When it first arrived in orbit around Darien.
‘I am more than happy to be away from the Shyntanil and their death obsession,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t help noticing the damage to your ship, however – what happened?’
A strained look came over Velazquez’s features.
‘We suffered a surprise attack while in orbit around the planet Darien. Lost over a seventh of our complement.’ His eyes were hard, flinty. ‘I ordered an emergency jump but halfway through the transition to Tier 2 the drive fields fell out of alignment and we ended up in a very strange … domain, or continuum, with the ship leaking in a thousand places and a half-wrecked hyperdrive. As well as dozens of dead, scores of injured. If it wasn’t for your grand-uncle, Ambassador Horst, and this new ally, the Construct, we’d still be there.’
Grand-uncle? Robert thought. How much more Wahnsinn can there be?
‘I believe I heard someone talking about me,’ came a voice from behind. Robert composed himself and turned … and yes, it was himself, dressed in a semi-formal suit, strolling unhurriedly towards them. Only it was himself pre-contact with the Construct. This Robert Horst was an unrejuvenated seventy-year-old, white-haired, thin-faced and wrinkled.
‘Grand-Uncle,’ he said. ‘I can’t tell you what it means to see you again.’ But his thoughts were whirling, recalling how he had been framed for the assassination of the Brolturan ambassador. From what Robert had heard, third-hand, Velazquez must have witnessed the immediate aftermath so how had he come to accept and trust this version? – which surely had to be one of the Construct’s sims.
The white-haired ambassador smiled and nodded in just the way he’d seen himself do so in playbacks. An odd shiver passed through him.
‘Rudy, my boy, someone had to pull your chestnuts out of the fire and since I was passing this way anyway … ’ A wider smile. ‘Besides, it seems that you have acquired a vital clue, according to the message probe your ship managed to launch before it self-destructed.’
‘I’m glad it got through, er, Grand-Uncle, really … ’
‘Ambassador,’ interrupted Captain Velazquez. ‘I must return to the bridge to deal with operational problems. Once you’ve debriefed Mr Bauer, I’ll make myself available for planning your next step.’
‘Very good, Captain,’ said the sim. ‘I should be in touch before very long, and again, my thanks.’
As the captain disappeared round the next corner, Robert turned to the Construct