Transformation Space - Marianne de Pierres [9]
‘Ship’s moud says there’s around three thousand civvies in-system,’ said Hob, reading from the display. Not sure how much longer, though. Dowl res station in the Leah system’s been reported as open agin. Couldna’ be a good sign. Not if them Extros are there like she said.’
The Baronessa had told the summit that a primitive species, the Saqr, had invaded the planet Araldis and the Dowl station. Now she feared a huge Post-Species force had based itself in the same place – her home world.
Mira Fedor. Such an unimposing figure to be delivering such profound news, thought Tekton. His abdomen tightened with apprehension. Though his academic life had been coloured with devious and sometimes murky politics and the pursuit of personal aspir ations, he had never suffered physical threat.
Since venturing into the wider worlds, though, as part of his endeavour to construct an edifice that would impress the Sole Entity back on Belle-Monde, his life had taken a sinister and terrifying turn.
Not quite recovered from Lasper Farr’s failed attempt to murder him on the planet Edo, he’d been coerced into hiding aboard the same lunatic’s ship as the only way to escape.
Now, it seemed, he’d found himself in the last place in the galaxy he could wish to be. If the Dowl shift station had reactivated, and Mira Fedor was truthful in her pronouncements, it could mean only one thing: the Post-Species were preparing to invade the OLOSS worlds. And Intel station – where he was now berthed – with its concentration of OLOSS leaders and dignitaries, was a most plump and juicy target.
A trap! yelped Tekton’s free-mind. This whole summit meeting was designed to bring OLOSS leaders into one place. It could be the Post-Species’ first target.
After a few extra moments of consideration, his logic-mind was in complete agreement. Dastardly simple and effective.
‘They’re coming here,’ Tekton told Hob. ‘The Extros are coming here first.’
Hob stared at him unhappily. The sirens had settled into a high-alert pattern. ‘I’m thinkin’ you be right, Tekkie,’ said the old Stain Wars veteran. ‘I gotta get to the bridge.’
Tekton gave Hob’s shoulder a light squeeze. He was not inclined to friendly physical displays, but the occasion seemed to call for it. Though their acquaintance had been brief, the grubby pilot genius had saved his life and extended him compassion and kindness. Tekton had never needed those things before; never cared for them nor offered them to others. The halls of the Tadao Ando studium and the corridors of the Belle-Monde pseudo-world had not been places for such things.
To say that the scales of selfishness had fallen from Tekton’s eyes was perhaps overly dramatic, but his perspective had altered, he allowed, on some counts. And now he wanted an opportunity to explore his newfound compassion, see how it affected his decision-making and the outcomes of events in his life.
These arrogant and infuriating Extros, who were planning to annihilate every sentient species in Orion, did not serve his new frame of reference at all.
‘Lead on, good fellow. Show me the way off this ship,’ he said, gently pushing Hob out of the cabin door. ‘But just let me pee first. I’ll be but a step behind you.’
The pilot nodded and stepped outside.
In a trice Tekton had snapped up the small black box on Lasper Farr’s com-sole and stuffed it inside the seal of his nanosuit. Sammy would be furious to loose her spare combat gear, but there was no time for bargains or explanations. The suit adjusted around the DSD, leaving only the faintest telltale bulge over his belly.
Let’s see how Lasper Farr goes without his Dynamic System Device, thought Tekton. And let’s see what I can do with it.
He hurried out of the door to join Hob. They moved quickly along the corridor to the lifts.
‘Ship’ll be in lockdown soon. You c’n use the Commander’s uplift to get down ta cargo. Should be able ta still get out through the hold. They’ll be loadin’. In that suit they’ll think you’re Sammy. Shouldn