Revengers
Book 3 of the Outsiders Trilogy
A Novel
Alex Kings
Copyright © 2019 Alex Kings
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be redistributed,
photocopied or sold without the author's permission.
To keep up with new releases and have access to extras, visit the author's website at www.AlexKings.com
Contents
Chapter 1: Empty Ship
Chapter 2: Hospital
Chapter 3: Mansion
Chapter 4: Mars
Chapter 5: Sarcophagus
Chapter 6: Growing Up Albascene
Chapter 7: We Haven't Been Discovered
Chapter 8: Fire Burns Indiscriminately
Chapter 9: Last Words
Chapter 10: Look After Yourself
Chapter 11: Allies
Chapter 12: Take Them Down With Us
Chapter 13: Glaber Opera
Chapter 14: Fake
Chapter 15: In The Air
Chapter 16: A Common Enemy
Chapter 17: Escape
Chapter 18: Identified, Incapacitated, and Apprehended
Chapter 19: They're Coming After Us
Chapter 20: Shoot Us Down, Then
Chapter 21: Run Like Hell
Chapter 22: Monopole Cannons
Chapter 23: Together Again
Chapter 24: Mystery Benefactor
Chapter 25: Uncharacteristically Generous
Chapter 26: Two Shuttles
Chapter 27: Attracting Attention
Chapter 28: It's Her
Chapter 29: Security Systems
Chapter 30: Plans
Chapter 31: Bloodspray
Chapter 32: Breaking In
Chapter 33: Yes, Let's
Chapter 34: I've Only Killed One Tethyan Before Now
Chapter 35: Knives
Chapter 36: Swimming Through Lava
Chapter 37: Warships
Chapter 38: If We Explode
Chapter 39: Breathing
Chapter 40: A Counter-Offer
Chapter 41: Not Quite
Chapter 42: Life
Chapter 43: Interior Spaces
Chapter 44: Environmental Controls
Chapter 45: Happy?
Chapter 46: Gifts
Chapter 47: Blindness
Chapter 48: Perhaps We Should Just Kill Them
Chapter 49: Daring Feats of Banditry
Chapter 50: Talking To The Enemy
Chapter 51: Fix That Mistake
Chapter 52: Sacrifice
Chapter 53: A Time For Showing Off
Chapter 54: Now They're All Going To Die
Chapter 55: Scientists
Chapter 56: Interrogation
Chapter 57: Audio Recordings
Chapter 58: Trust
Chapter 59: Consequences
Chapter 60: No Tricks, No Fakery
Chapter 61: Tracker
Chapter 62: Justice and Vengeance
Chapter 63: Play Into His Hands
Chapter 64: The Very Worst People In The Galaxy
Chapter 65: I Haven't Been For A Long Time
Chapter 66: Something Profound
Chapter 67: Flowers
Chapter 68: Leaving
Chapter 69: Do You Have an Appointment?
Chapter 70: Forgive Me For My Hubris
Chapter 71: Stealth
Chapter 72: Heat
Chapter 73: They've Sent Someone
Chapter 74: Congratulations
Chapter 75: Rurthk Vs. Zino?
Chapter 76: Gotcha
Chapter 77: Revnan
Chapter 78: Pale Blue Sky
Chapter 79: Reaction
Chapter 80: Goodbyes
Chapter 81: If You're Still Flying …
Chapter 1: Empty Ship
Rurthk sat alone in the cockpit of the Outsider, awkwardly working his way through jump calculations. He'd piloted ships before, but he was out of practice. The Outsider floated with the Fire Strider connected to its aft with cables.
While he struggled through inputting a twenty-two dimensional quantum problem into the computer, the console chimed. He idly gestured at it to play the newscast, audio-only, and then returned to his work.
“The Interstellar Advisory Committee has confirmed the link between last week's attacks and the Glaber Territories,” said the newscast. “In response to the confirmation, the Tethyans and Albascene have already announced their intention to send a neutral investigation team to the Glaber worlds suspected of involvement: Uruk, Kurkroth, Thrukkun and Rsthrun.”
“Yeah, that's real clever,” muttered Rurthk, entering a final vector. “Well done.”
“Would you like to hear opinion pieces?” the newscast asked.
Rurthk gestured at the console again to silence it, then set the computer to chew over the calculations. That would take a while. He settled back and looked out at the vast great emptiness.
He heard Eloise striding down the corridor long before she arrived. When she finally stepped into the cockpit, she was brandishing an extended tablet. Her red and white peppermint-striped dress fluttered behind her. “I have it!” she said.
Rurthk was glad of her company. The ship was starting to feel more than a little empty. He swung round. “Let's see,” he said, taking the tablet.
“How are things going up here?” Eloise asked.
“Oh, you know, fine,” said Rurthk, looking across the console. “It's all flooding back. I say that, but it's more oozing than flooding.” He grabbed his open carton of fermented blood from the chair opposite and took a drink while looking at the tablet.
“Kaivon's family,” said Eloise, swinging the chair round to face Rurthk and settling into it. “I've double checked. It's definitely them.”
It had taken a week to find them, between getting the Outsider repaired and restocked, and dealing with Mero suddenly leaving. Kaivon had never talked about his family, and at the beginning Rurthk and Eloise weren't even sure if Albascene even had familial bonds. Was there anyone beyond themselves who would mourn his loss? As it turned out, there was. Then came the long process of making calls and sending messages, researching public information, and tracking down Kaivon's guardians and siblings.
Once he'd read it, Rurthk handed the tablet back.
“I'll tell them we're coming,” Eloise said, standing up. “What do you think, Outsider or Fire Strider?”
“Outsider,” said Rurthk. “I doubt the GEA have any interest in going after us anymore.”
“I guess not,” said Eloise. She smiled weakly and patted Rurthk on the shoulder. “I'll take over here.”
“Alright,” Rurthk said, standing. “The next jump should be in the direction of Laikon, anyway.”
“Got it,” said Eloise.
Rurthk headed down the corridor down the ship. He passed the three empty rooms and headed into the cargo bay.
Kaivon's suit lay on its side against the back wall. It still bore the giant hole in its middle section, from the shot that had killed him. It was still filled with water, still active, maintaining life support for what remained of Kaivon – a small school of brightly-coloured fish. They comprised a little less than a third of the Albascene's original body. Not enough to sustain a sapient being.
Kaivon, as they knew him, was no longer alive. But neither was he entirely dead. The thought of being in this bizarre halfway house between the two troubled Rurthk, who had longed to come to terms with his own death one day, but only as an all-or-nothing proposition.
Dr. Wolff, dressed in a sombre dark suit, sat on a small armchair beside Kaivon, reading a tablet. He looked up sharply as Rurthk stepped through the door and relaxed when he saw who it was.
“Ah,
Captain,” said Wolff as Rurthk descended the steps. “It's you. I confess, with a crew so diminished, the ship had started to feel a little too empty. Sometimes I fear it's beginning to take on the air of a haunted house.”
It took Rurthk a moment to get the reference. “Ghosts?” he said, using the human word.
Wolff nodded.
“If only our problems were so simple,” said Rurthk. He came up to Kaivon's suit.
“I take it you haven't lost your resolve, then?” said Wolff.
“No,” said Rurthk. “The Information Brokers. Vihan Yvredi. Whatever they call themselves. I am going to end them.” He growled softly, then regained his composure. “Eloise dropped by.”
“We've found the family, I know,” said Wolff.
Rurthk looked down at Kaivon's suit. The question seemed to get stuck on his tongue for a moment. At last he said, “How is he?”
“I've connected him to a few of his engine simulations,” said Wolff. “Something he might enjoy. There's some activity now and then, but nothing coherent.”
Kaivon's voice synthesizer juddered into life, emitting a few noises.
“Captain,” it said.
Rurthk stared at the suit. He dropped down to his knees. “Kaivon?” he asked gently. Through the hole in the suit, he could see the fish swarming about.
“Good,” it said. “Engine.”
After that, it stopped talking. There was a brief flurry of activity on one of the engine simulations, then nothing.
That kept happening. A few words here and there, but never more than that. According to Dr. Wolff, there was enough left of Kaivon to activate the voice synthesizer, and perhaps to recognise what was coming in through the sensory feeds, but that was all.
Eventually, Rurthk stood. “I should prepare what I'm going to tell them,” he said, and headed out of the cargo bay.
Chapter 2: Hospital
Laodicean woke surrounded by rich, deep blue. The water was filled with the soft, calming deep-bass thrum of Tethyan technology. He didn't know how long he just floated there, mindlessly relaxing at the edge of consciousness.
After a while he noticed that the odd feeling in his gills was because they were filled with medical gel. There was a crack in his exoskeleton too. He could feel the biological resin knitting it back together. And then came the memories: Lying on the ground in a puddle of water. Before that, impaling attackers with his effector fields. Before that, being swarmed by Blanks, and Illipa being shot.
He tried to use his effector fields. Nothing happened. He tried to use his neural link. He wasn't connected.
“Laodicean,” a voice spoke into his head. It was filled with wisdom and calm, with centuries of experience. “Do not worry. I am the Hospital Mind. You are on Tethya, and you are safe.”
The Hospital Mind was an aggregate intelligence of hundreds of Tethyans, their minds uploaded at death and combined. Its mental processes ran on the organic infrastructure and the genetically engineered plankton in the water. It was speaking to him through his neural link.
“I understand,” Laodicean replied. “I'd like to orient myself.”
“Of course,” said the Hospital Mind. It gave him a fuller account: His exact position on Tethya, latitude, longitude and depth, plus the date and time. “You have been unconscious for eight days.” It gave him his medical data, and finally it gave him a selection of news items from the time he was admitted. “Your superior knows you are awake and is on her way now.”
“Thank you,” said Laodicean, poring through the information.
He was nearly healed, apparently. Most of the damage came from hypoxia when he'd lost his water, but the hospital had been able to repair the tissue damage.
Illipa. He couldn't find anything about Illipa.
Another Tethyan jetted out of the blue depths to meet him. He recognised her as his direct superior in the GEA, Sub-Director Autumnal.
“Investigator Laodicean,” she said. She eschewed the neural link, and instead spoke using the natural language of Tethyans, the skin of her tentacles rapidly shifting colour. “I'm glad to see you're awake.”
“Thank you, Sub-Director.” Even now, Laodicean remained formal. “Where is Investigator Vissivine?”
The Sub-Director paused. “I'm sorry,” she said. “Your partner is dead.”
Laodicean fell silent. He couldn't imagine Illipa being dead.
“Our casualties were worryingly high,” said the Sub-Director.
“What?” said Laodicean.
“The GEA headquarters were infiltrated and attacked by Blanks.”
Laodicean went back to his neural link and flicked through the news items. It wasn't hard to find. Blank attacks across the known galaxy. Glaber suspected to be behind it. The threat of war looming closer than ever.
There was a list of GEA casualties. He checked it. Several of the names he recognised, including Rak.
“I apologise,” said the Sub-Director. “This is not the ideal news to wake up to.”
Laodicean's brain was still stuck on Illipa being dead. He imagined her laughing. “What are we doing about it?” he said.
“Right now, we are aiding the Interstellar Advisory Committee in collating evidence and co-ordinating galaxy-wide intelligence sharing,” said the Sub-Director. “We know the Glaber did it. The main task now is to find out how.”
“But –” began Laodicean. He was about to say it wasn't the Glaber, it was Vihan Yvredi. But then a final memory slipped back into place.
The GEA might be compromised. In fact, by now he was quite sure it was – he and Illipa had been targeted, and Rak was dead, which seemed to point to the fact that someone was suppressing suspicion of Vihan Yvredi.
The Sub-Director herself might be working for them.
She was looking at him, her tentacles twisting lightly, waiting for him to finish.
“But how could the Glaber accomplish such a thing?” Laodicean finished.
She seemed to buy that. “We're not sure. It seems to have been a well-planned operation. The Glaber are clearly more well-organised than anyone anticipated.”
Laodicean gave the response only perfunctory thought. His mind seemed trapped on a single loop. He would bring justice down, white-hot and unflinching, on those who had killed Illipa. But to do that, he couldn't work with the GEA. For that, he needed Illipa, but they'd killed her, and …
“I am ready to join the investigation for the Interstellar Advisory Committee,” he said. “I may have a contact who knows about the Glaber.”
“No,” said the Sub-Director.
Laodicean flicked a tentacle to better face her. “What?”
“You have lost your partner and barely survived yourself,” said the Sub-Director.
“I must protest,” said Laodicean. “I am in no pain, and my mind is clear. I wish to help find out what the Glaber are doing. In a time like this, surely the GEA needs as many Investigators working on the issue as it can spare.”
“Not if they are being led by their emotions,” said the Sub-Director. “The risk is too high. You will take leave for at least thirty days. Then, if our psychologists judge you to be capable, you may join the investigation.”
The statement was delivered with her characteristic finality. Laodicean knew it would be useless at best and counterproductive at worst to argue further.
“Very well,” he said.
The Sub-Director extended a tentacle touch his shell. “You may leave the hospital when you wish. Be well, Laodicean,” she said. “I know the following days will be difficult, but do not lose hope. You are an excellent investigator. I look forward to welcoming you back to work with us.”
“Thank you, Sub-Director,” said Laodicean.
And with that, Sub-Director Autumnal jetted away.
Laodicean watched her go, his tentacles tense. Inside him there was a turbulent storm of emotion he had no idea how to deal with because he was so unused to it.
“Hospital Mind,” he said at last.
“Yes?” came the reply through his neural link.
“Would you be so kind as to reactivate my effector field generator and network connection? I wish to leave immediately.”
“Of course,” said the Hospital Mind. A moment later the organic implant beneath his shell came to life. His neural link connected to the wider network.
He used it to summon a transport as he jetted away.
Chapter 3: Mansion
Six hours in, the party was in fully swing. Mero bounded up the giant tree, accompanied by a group of Petaurs he barely knew. Bounding from branch to branch, he quickly outpaced them. At the top, he jumped into a graceful loop, then glided away. Below him, he could see his new mansion, its swimming pool, and its surrounding forests. He swung around the house, then glided into the zero-gravity region in front of the mansion. He extended his skin flaps to stop, then floated there, breathing hard, laughing, and tumbling gently. He surveyed his new domain as the other Petaurs finally caught up to him.
“Well?” he said. “Who won, huh?”
“You did,” said one of the female Petaurs, diving over to meet him.
“Yeah, I did, didn't I?” he said, catching her. They pirouetted together in the air. “But I saw the way you moved back there. I'm sure you'll be catching up to me in no time.”
The female Petaur giggled.
Mero reached out and caught the extended arm of another to steady his rotation. “Or maybe you will,” he said. “You know, I think we might need to have a competition. But first …” He turned away and called out, “Let's get some food and incense over here!”
A couple of drones were instantly by his side, offering selections.
The incense came in the form of small cylinders in a number of bright colours. Unlike the human and Varanid versions, they used nothing as nasty as burning. Instead, each released a fine mist, a lightly-perfumed cocktail of drugs. With his tail, Mero picked a couple each of orange and pale blue cylinders and activated them.
The food consisted of some of the rarest and most difficult to grow Petaur fruits, some candied, some infused with liqueur, plus a collection of flower petals.
Mero and his two companions ate slowly, laughing more and more as the incense took effect. In the background, the music changed to something more relaxed. On the ground a hundred metres below, someone was playing something else. He found himself wondering about what he could buy tomorrow. Another shuttle? Better security for the house, perhaps. Maybe he could have a small space habitat constructed.