Nexus, Robert Boyczuk [best free ereader TXT] 📗

she added all the down years spent in stasis on previous longhauls-and the five hundred on the trip here-she’d now be over 866!

“And,” Hebuiza continued, “you’ve achieved this ripe old age without the longevity enhancements available to the rulers of Nexus. Yilda told me he also has a subcutaneous nanoskin that makes him virtually invulnerable. Barring an accident, he could, theoretically, live forever. So it’s well within the realm of possibility that Yilda could be the Brother. And given his intimate knowledge of Nexus and of the relay station, I can only conclude he is who he claims to be.”

Yilda the founder of Nexus? Liis swore aloud. A small, balding man who spoke in halting sentences. One who looked more like an minor government official than the ruler of an empire? It was all too much to credit. “Why Bh’Haret? Of all the places he could go….”

“Fifteen hundred years gave him time to roam the Clusters. He wandered from system to system, bartering for information and technology, trying to keep a low profile since he feared his brother pursued him. When he arrived at Bh’Haret, he found what he’d been looking for: a planet with a technology base high enough for his needs-and low enough to allow him to slip unnoticed into our society. His intention was to become a Facilitator, and exploit that position to release technological information to us far faster than we would have otherwise acquired it. In effect, he wanted to circumvent the edicts of the Ascension Program he and his brother had originally decreed. With the longevity his bio-enhancements would have given him, he hoped to establish a new empire.” Hebuiza paused. “Its heart would have been Bh’Haret.”

Liis couldn’t believe what the Facilitator was telling her. The story was incredible.

Hebuiza sighed, as if at the thought of the lost empire. “But the plague changed all that. Despite Yilda’s enhanced immune system, he found he was as vulnerable to the infecting Trojan as we were. His organs will no doubt fare better at fighting off the symptoms, but the disease is in him every bit as much as it is in us. He might last weeks or months longer than we would, but eventually, he will succumb. Like us, he had to procure the antidote-by whatever means were necessary.”

“And you believe all this?”

“Yes. I ran the antibody test on him myself.”

It still didn’t add up. “Look around you,” Liis said to Hebuiza. She swept her arm out to indicate the twitching figures scattered around the chamber. “He’s destroying the minds of our hostages. How the hell are we going to negotiate now?”

“Negotiation was never part of his plan. Only the pretence of negotiation was. Two functioning Speakers are all that we require for that. And when we’ve finished with them, they will be disabled as well.” Hebuiza glanced at the two Speakers; the male Speaker shuddered and averted his eyes, but the woman didn’t flinch. “Destroying the Speakers here will unravel the communication in the Right Leg Cluster for decades. It will take decades more to undo the damage. It is Yilda’s small way of repaying his brother.”

“But the antidote-”

“It can be manufactured here.”

Liis blinked. Here. The antidote had been here all along. “What-” She stopped abruptly. “Josua,” she said breathlessly. “Did he know about this other plan?”

“Josua?” Hebuiza smiled, curving his lips to expose a row of yellowing teeth. “That fool knew nothing. His mission was never anything more than a decoy to keep Nexus occupied.”

“The Pro-Locutors will destroy The Viracosa!” Liis bunched her hands into fists. “You sent them to their deaths!” She took a step towards the Facilitator.

“Josua wanted to die.” Hebuiza’s words brought her up short. “Or didn’t you know about his little scheme for revenge?”

Liis’ stomach knotted. Revenge. ‘I am not the one with revenge in mind‘ Yilda had said before he left. “What do you mean?” Her voice shook.

“Josua rigged The Viracosa as a bomb. He thought we didn’t know. But we did. It was a nice, if unintentional, contribution to the plan. We wanted a distraction and Josua provided a better one than we could have hoped for. We will proceed with sham negotiations to allow him time enough to approach the Hub. If the Pro-Locutors let him get that far, he’ll blow the ship, and turn that fat fool Sav and that zealot Ruen into a cloud of expanding radioactive gas.” The filaments on Hebuiza’s head bobbed as he nodded in apparent approval of Yilda’s plan. “Do you think that’s Dissolution enough to make the patrix happy?”

“I…I don’t believe you.”

“As a precaution,” Hebuiza continued, his delight seeming to grow with Liis’ dismay, “Yilda planted a different strain of the plague on their ship, one whose symptoms should manifest just before they reach the Hub. They now only have enough time to reach the Hub and detonate the bomb, but no window in which to betray us. Tomorrow they’ll experience the initial fever.”

Liis felt sick. Josua, she thought. Why? But she knew the answer before she’d asked herself the question. It was for Shiranda. Everything had always been for Shiranda. Liis felt like she was coming unglued. A confusing welter of thoughts dizzied her: memories of Josua, of the blindness of her feelings for him. And of Sav. Poor Sav, who of all them was blameless. What had he done to deserve this? She thought about the days they’d spent aboard the Ea. And the seemingly endless progression of days that had dragged by at the stasis facility. Then, abruptly her memories were scattered by an image of The Viracosa transformed into a ball of radioactive gas, spreading the atoms of the three men into cold vacuum. Her future, if she had one, was here, with Yilda and Hebuiza. She felt herself swaying. I’m alone, she thought. I may as well be dead. Shaking her head numbly, Liis backed away from Hebuiza. She stumbled, catching her heel on her backpack. The contents spilled out over the floor. She watched dully as the cylinder containing the plastic explosives rolled away with a sad, hollow sound.

“Get back here,” Hebuiza said, his deep voice booming in the chamber. He levelled his bolt gun and sighted down the barrel at her chest. “And pick up this rope.”

Dazed, Liis stared down the narrow bore of his rifle. Without Josua and Sav, the prospect of survival held no appeal. I could let Hebuiza finish this right now, she thought. Put an end to all the lies. All I’d have to do is go for my gun…. She glanced at her backpack, then up at Hebuiza’s face. There was a dark light glinting in his eyes, a cruel smile turning the corners of his mouth. His expression was one of anticipation. As if he were hoping she’d go for her gun.

“Well?”

The shock of the understanding hit her like a bucket of cold water. He wants to kill me, Liis suddenly realised. That’s why he told me everything he did. To provoke me. But he’s afraid of how Yilda will react if he pulls the trigger. She glanced at the Speakers, knew they were what had kept her alive thus far: mute witnesses who might later describe the scene to Yilda. He’s trying create the excuse he needs. A slow, burning anger churned in her stomach, rose into her gorge. I won’t give him that satisfaction, she thought. I’ll choose my own time and place. She took a step towards the rope.

For an instant Hebuiza looked surprised; his eyebrows lifted. “That’s far enough.”

Liis stopped. She placed her fists on her hips. “Do you want me to tie them up or not?”

Hebuiza seemed confused; perhaps exhaustion, compounded by the effects of the drug Yilda had given him, clouded his thoughts. But he was clearly unprepared for her reaction. He knit his brows in concentration and took two steps back from the rope and towards the Speakers. “Okay,” he said, relaxing his posture and letting the bolt gun slip from its ready position at his shoulder. “Pick it up.”

Liis moved forward, stopping abruptly in front of the rope.

Hebuiza lifted the weapon again. “Changed your mind?”

Until this instant Liis been so intent on the conversation that she’d paid little attention to the Speakers. But now she saw the woman had taken advantage of her confrontation with Hebuiza: unnoticed, the female Speaker had risen to a crouch. She stared fiercely at Hebuiza’s back, looking like she was preparing to make a rush. With muscles weakened by years of lesser gravity, and weighing at least a third less than the Facilitator, the Speaker would be committing suicide. But, if what Yilda had told them was true, she probably didn’t understand that.

“No!” Liis’ shout was too late. The woman charged. Hebuiza blinked, then swung in the direction of Liis’ gaze just as the Speaker reached him.

The woman ducked, coming in low under the barrel of the bolt gun as it discharged with a chest-rattling whump; she hit Hebuiza at the knees, locking her arms around his legs. The Facilitator staggered back two short steps, his stubby rifle waving in the air as he wobbled like a top about to fall. Incredibly, he managed to regain his balance. The woman wrapped herself tightly around his legs. The Speaker was too close for Hebuiza to angle his weapon at her. So instead he lifted his gun so the butt hung over the woman’s head. He raised it, about to bring the stock down on her skull. The Speaker stared up, her eyes wide.

Liis sprang at Hebuiza. Gritting her teeth, she threw her good shoulder as forcefully as she could into the Facilitator’s side, striking him below his ribcage.

At the moment of impact, the Facilitator grunted loudly; they tumbled to the floor, Liis landing atop her broken arm. Agony radiated out from her fracture and burnt redly in her brain.

She lay on her back, gulping lungfuls of air, the hurting making it impossible to catch her breath. Closing her eyes, she grit her teeth; air whistled between her lips. After a moment, breaths came easier, although each one seemed to rasp through her like throat like sandpaper. She opened her eyes, blinking several times to clear her vision. Slowly, she eased herself up onto one elbow.

Beside her Hebuiza lay sprawled on the floor, clutching his bolt gun. His head wobbled slowly from side to side, and his eyes were open, but they swam in their sockets as if he was dazed. A thin line of blood leaked from under the bandage on his right temple. It appeared that, unwilling to let go of his gun, he hadn’t been able to break his fall and his head had struck the floor, reopening the wound on his temple. At a right angle to him, the Speaker sat on the floor, her legs entwined in his. She appeared unhurt, but looked shocked, incredulous, perhaps, that she was alive.

Liis rolled over onto her knees; the room spun sickeningly around her. Fighting back nausea, she leaned over and tried to pull the bolt gun from Hebuiza’s rigid fingers; but he grasped the barrel and stock with an inhuman strength. No matter how hard she tugged, she couldn’t pull it free. Her efforts seemed to penetrate Hebuiza’s stupor. He blinked, and his wavering eyes fixed on her. He closed them and groaned.

Liis released the weapon and rose onto wobbly legs. Staggering back to her pack she overturned it, emptying its contents onto the floor. She snatched up her laser pistol and pointed it at Hebuiza. She tightened her finger on the trigger. The woman watched her, wide-eyed.