DARROW
Mortal Concerns
Like a deep spaceremora, theArchimedesstirs from its idle drift and creeps into the wake of the convoy of Votum cosmosHaulers. The Haulers are accompanied by powerful destroyers freshly painted with a purple Minotaur’s head.
After journeying from the Marcher to Venusian orbit, we waited days for a convoy whose wake could mask our approach to the dockyards. It gave us time to plan. Thus far the stealth hull has allowed us to avoid two Carthii patrol squadrons, but the dockyards, with their far more sophisticated sensor suites, will be a different affair.
I lean over Cassius’s shoulder as he guides theArchimedescloser to the hull of a cosmosHauler at the end of the convoy.
“Easy does it. The blind spot isn’t large,” I murmur.
“I know how to fly,” Cassius says. “If you want to worry about anything, worry about the hull.”
“Considering the only way we’ll know if they’ve spotted us is if they shoot at us, perhaps you should both focus,” Aurae says from the co-pilot seat. I sit down in a pop-out seat behind them and hold my breath until we’ve matched speed with the hauler, a bare ten meters from her starboard. Cassius breathes out.
“There. We’re in her shadow. Quicksilver must hate you, Darrow. Or he’s working for the Golds. Why else would he not equip the White Fleet with this tech? Five destroyers with this hull could cut apart the Society like a scalpel.”
“Apparently the material is one hundred times more expensive perounce than razors are to produce,” I say. “Outfitting theMorning Staralone would have bankrupted the Republic.”
“So?”
“That’s what I said.”
He laughs. “No wonder the Senate didn’t like you.”
In the blind spot of the hauler, I have time to appreciate the view as we approach Venus.
At a distance the Dockyards of Venus, the greatest structure ever built by mankind, resemble little more than a scratch on a sapphire marble suspended alone in the darkness. If ever I needed a reminder for how small we are in the scheme of things, I needn’t look any further than Venus.
Yet even Venus itself, a planet of immense majesty with all its vast coral reefs, mysterious migrating islands, abundant flora and fauna, rigid caste structure, and human factories for the Gold military apparatus, is smaller than my pinky nail when I hold my hand at arm’s length.
As we approach and Venus grows in size, there’s time enough for the worry to set in. Soon the Carthii navy comes into view. Most of the ships and the Praetors of House Carthii were off serving Atalantia over Mercury when Apollonius stole their dockyards. Now their ships are tethered to the north pole of their home planet where they twinkle, a crown of blue splinters.
No doubt they’re tethered there by fear of what Apollonius would do to their dockyards should they try to reclaim them. If I were him, I’d have bombs and a dead man’s switch. He and I often do think alike.
I reach over to the seat beside me and petDominusPortobello, our lone atomic, for reassurance.
Under watch of the station’s guns and its escorts, the haulers slow as they approach the dockyards. So does theArchimedes. Amongst the yards’ complex fortifications are guns the size of skyscrapers. If death comes, we won’t have long to notice. With a tentative smile that grows the longer we don’t die, Cassius cuts the engines and initiates a lateral drift out of the haulers’ wake. The dockyards roll past, endless fortifications and industrial towers, spindles and garages as far as the eye can see. Aurae is amazed at the sight. Cassius grows dour.
“Good news. We’re not dead yet,” I say and stand. “Bad news, that was the easy part. Aurae, the Archimedes and Portobello is yours. Cassius, it’s time.”
“Remember what I taught you about axial drift. And don’t forget two port thrusters are wonky,” Cassius says to Aurae, reluctant to hand over the controls.
“I won’t crash if you don’t die,” she replies and gives him a smile. He glances around at the ship, his home, takes a breath, and heads for the garage. I linger for a moment and watch her fingers dance along the controls to the ship’s systems.
“Did Cassius actually teach you to fly, or did you just pretend to let him?”
She continues her task.“It is a master’s nature to want, just as it is a servant’s nature to provide. This does not mean the master does not provide. This does not mean a servant does not want.”
“So you humored him.”
She turns. “I am a Pink. I humor everyone.” She doesn’t sound bitter about it. “We all have our survival mechanisms, Darrow. I am and always have been air. Until now you could afford to be a rock. You didn’t have to change or alter course. Now you are cracking. That is a good thing. If you wish to be repaired…”
“You must first be broken,” I murmur. She had seen me reading the book in theArchimedes’s lounge. “It’s nonsensical half the time.”
“Of course it is. All your life your hands have been how you have interacted with the world. But the path isn’t a tool to be grabbed and used, Darrow. Because it isn’t a thing. It is a verb.”
She holds my gaze, patient, neutral.
