Hostile Alliances (eBook)

Piran

Piran shuffled. He’d told himself he wouldn’t let his nerves show, but he couldn’t relax. Not here. This place was too formal, with clinical lighting and dark furniture. Nothing too posh, but it still reeked of expense. And those two art-pieces on the wall‌—‌looked like swirls of colour to Piran, could’ve been an accident with a couple of paint-pots, but he knew they were classics. Probably originals, too.

None of the rooms on the island had been this fancy, but they’d moved him, hadn’t they? Short hop to the mainland, then onto a Hermes and off to Metis.

Piran hadn’t thought he’d be back here. He’d trained on Kaiahive’s orbital station, a craft so big it was more like a city. Had good memories of the place, but also bad ones. Last time he’d been here was as a prisoner, before being shipped back to the planet, back to face those shade things.

And now he was back. Still a prisoner, even if he was let loose with the Ancients’ code, even if he was given his own room. Still trapped, and forced to sit in rooms like this, forced to be with the man sitting across the desk.

Macklyn Grivas. The main man. He might not be the official commander of Metis, but he still ran the place. Worked deep Kaiahive, and Piran had heard enough rumours to believe he ran that too.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Mister Remis,” Macklyn said, easing back in his chair and placing his hands on his stomach.

“Pleasure.” Wasn’t like he had much choice, was it?

Macklyn turned his head. “And I appreciate your attendance too, Miss Romberg.”

Casey sat at the side of the desk, like she was a go-between or something. She nodded and smiled at her boss, then glanced at Piran.

That had to be a warning. Wasn’t his fault he didn’t always think before talking, was it?

She’d dressed for this meeting‌—‌one of those strappy tops under that soft black jacket, and trousers so tight Piran reckoned she struggled to sit down. Looked good on her, though.

Or maybe she had one of those figures, made everything she wore look good. Or it was her smile. Yeah, could be. She knew about it, too‌—‌used it often enough. All those subtle come-ons, leaning in too close. Sure, Piran wouldn’t say no to someone as fine as Casey, but she worked for the man. Casey Romberg was a company drone. Couldn’t trust her, could he?

“Don’t you agree, Mister Remis?”

Piran blinked, focused on Macklyn’s face. The man’s head tilted to one side. There was a shadow of a smile on his lips, the kind that sent a chill down Piran’s spine.

“You were listening, weren’t you?” the main man asked.

“Kind of. Got distracted.”

“Distracted?”

“Interesting problems, with the old doofus thing.”

“The Caduceus?”

“Yeah. Still loads to uncover. Keep stuff in here,” and he tapped his neck, by his lattice node. “Copies, working files, that kind of thing. Never know when inspiration’s gonna strike, right?”

“Hmm.” Macklyn took a long breath, like he was trying to suck the air from Piran’s lungs. “A sharp mind like yours is a double-edged sword, isn’t it? Capable of fantastic leaps of deduction, but always seeking the next challenge. You’re too easily distracted, young man. And, as I’ve pointed out before, such distractions can be‌…‌detrimental.”

Yeah, detrimental. Didn’t say detrimental to what, did he? Left that hanging, just to make Piran more uncomfortable.

Piran sat straight. “I’ve been giving my reports every day. Right, Casey?”

Macklyn raised a hand. “Yes, yes. And you continue to make great strides in your‌—‌and our‌—‌understanding of the Ancients’ technology. But that doesn’t occupy your full mind, does it? An inquisitive nature will always seek new experiences. But‌—‌again, as I’ve pointed out before‌—‌that can lead one to open doors that should remain closed.”

Piran’s stomach tightened. How the hell could Macklyn know? Sure, he’d been doing a little extra, crawling around Metis’ system. But he’d been careful. None of his ghosts had registered anything, had they?

Unless Macklyn was bluffing. Couldn’t put it past the man.

“Not done anything wrong,” Piran said. “Might push at the odd door, but I don’t go changing stuff. And if a door opens, it’s not my fault it wasn’t locked, right? Useful service, if you think about it. Testing security. Makes sense, having someone on the inside doing that. Better than some unknown from outside, yeah?”

Macklyn smiled coldly again. “There’s a certain twisted logic in that, I’ll grant you. It could also be argued that a closed door should be respected. But we’ll let that rest for the moment.” He reached an arm forward, rested it on the table. “Tell me, Mister Remis, what do you make of the signal.”

Piran swallowed, wondered if he could get away with loosening his collar. “Signal?”

Macklyn’s fingers tapped on the table. Piran swallowed again.

“The signal from beyond Cyralon, right? The one with the strange coding. That one?”

Macklyn nodded, once.

“Right. Yeah. Heard stuff about that‌—‌open chat on the system, read between the lines. Gossip says it’s connected to the Ancients, but data’s locked down tight. Not the kind of thing you’d want getting out, is it? Too much speculation could be bad.”

As Piran spoke‌—‌as he let his mouth continue working‌—‌Macklyn’s eyes narrowed. His hand twitched. The fingers curled over, and he thumped his fist onto the table.

Casey jumped. Piran shuffled, hoped the warm patch in his trousers wasn’t anything embarrassing.

“Don’t play games with me, Mister Remis. Again, what do you make of the signal?”

Piran shrank inside. He turned to Casey. Her eyes were wide, and she nodded. Wanted him to spill, then.

Wasn’t like she knew anything. Sure, she monitored the sensors over his work-space‌—‌probably checked the ones in the rest of his place, too‌—‌but she wasn’t in his head. Didn’t have a clue where he went in the system, did she?

But if he got in trouble, it bounced back on her. She was his supervisor, responsible for him. And even if his snooping had nothing to do with her, Macklyn would take some of his anger out on her. It was the kind of thing he’d do.

“Right.” He coughed, managed to meet Macklyn’s gaze. “Yeah. The signal. Stumbled on the data.” He tilted his head. “Not going to‌…‌to get anyone in trouble for this, am I?”

“That’s irrelevant. Tell me what you make of the signal.”

“Right. Had a look. Like you said, one of those doors that should’ve been locked.” He cringed, wondered if he’d said too much already. “Interesting. Tight data packet, but so much in it. Definitely not standard code, though. Haven’t‌…‌didn’t go deep, just had a quick skim, and it matches Ancient stuff. I mean, it’s different, but it’s a development. Shared ancestry, kind of thing. Some phrases parse almost ninety percent with stuff in the doofus thing and the Pandora. Similarities with some of the other old crap you’ve dug up‌…‌I mean, the other Ancient artefacts. So, yeah, definitely Ancient. More recent than the other stuff, though. Tech’s developed, right?”

“Which confirms other reports I’ve received.” Macklyn’s hand lay flat on the table, and he rested back in his chair. “What of the direction of travel?”

“The what?”

“We intercepted the message in transit. What can you tell me of the direction of travel?”

“Ah, yeah. See, that’s not my thing. Tried learning all that astro-physics maths stuff, but it never sunk in. Took me ages to get the whole light-year being distance thing. Chat on the system seems to think it’s heading our way, but I can’t confirm. Sorry.” He shrugged, with a smile.

Macklyn glanced at Casey. “Our friend admits that he doesn’t know everything. This must be a first.”

Casey laughed, but it was forced. Wasn’t as free as the few times she’d laughed in Piran’s work-space. Didn’t reach her eyes. Didn’t show those little lines, the crinkles in her skin.

Macklyn turned his attention back to Piran. “I’m aware that this isn’t your area of expertise. But I’m interested to know if there’s anything in the signal itself that might expand our knowledge. You understand me, yes?”

Piran nodded. “Are they messaging us, kind of thing. You want to know what the signal’s all about. You want to know if it’s a precursor to their return.”

Macklyn raised one eyebrow. “Precursor‌—‌interesting choice of words.”

And Piran knew the man had him. He shuffled again. “Yeah, well, did a bit of digging. Couldn’t help myself, could I? Like I said‌—‌think I did, anyway‌—‌all this Ancient stuff’s fascinating. Their coding’s real next level. Sublime. A lot of it looks like garbage, but you go deeper, and there’s all these layers, real beauty. So a new chunk of data, something more recent as well‌—‌I mean, I had to know more, didn’t I?”

“So you explored.”

“Yeah. Still did my other work, though. This was all out-of-hours. And I never changed anything.”

“Nobody said you did.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to, would I? Not the kind of stuff you mess with. Not without being extra careful. Just look at the history of the lattice‌—‌yeah, works well now, but there were some major cock-ups back at the start, right? Not blaming anyone‌—‌all part of the process, yeah? And it’s all worked out in the...