Nothing we can do,’ she mimicked acidly. She thrust his face into the local belt display. ‘Do you know what that rock is?’
The local belt display showed two bodies near the Remembrance of Clouds. One of them was flagged as having a habitation beacon, but the display did not show any more information; the other was dark, visible only as a lidar trace. A pair of rocks orbiting a common centre, one of which was inhabited: any number of outposts in the belts matched that description.
‘What? No. It could be anywhere.’
‘It’s LN-411.’
‘But LN-411’s a lone rock, it doesn’t have…oh God.’ An awful chill ran through his body, quite different from the mundane fear of enslavement by a pirate. The other rock was the Worldbreaker.
Keldra put the cuffs on Jonas’s wrists and marched him to the transit hub, once again jamming the nerve gun into his back. The transit module could take half a dozen people, but she dismissed her servitors and entered with Jonas alone. He noticed a slave-spike among the tools hanging from her belt as she strapped herself into the acceleration harness opposite him. He had no idea why she didn’t use it.
He felt the gravity drop away as the module travelled up to the ship’s spine, then return as it moved outwards to the first ring. There were no servitors waiting when the door opened, and Jonas saw none as Keldra prodded him along a corridor to the bridge.
Jonas had seen a Salamander’s bridge before so he could tell that this one was heavily modified. All but one of the crew terminals had been ripped out, making the room seem larger than it normally would, and it was dominated by the holo-screen taking up the front wall. Right now the screen showed an external view centred on the red-brown dot of LN-411.
In the centre of the room was what Jonas could only think of as a nest. A chaotic arrangement of screens and control boards formed a half-circle around a battered captain’s chair, whose padding leaked through splits unevenly patched with black tape. The control boards were stained, and every empty surface held a foil food tray or empty stim pill packet.
The ceiling was painted dark blue with streaks and splotches of pale grey. He thought, for a moment, that it was an abstract pattern, before he realized what it depicted: clouds. The sky of old Earth, or at least Keldra’s guess of how it would have looked. The paintwork was rough, with great scrawled brush strokes, not like the neat work of a servitor painting programme. Jonas was sure that she had painted it herself.
Keldra glanced at one of the screens on her control nest. ‘We’re just in time.’
The view on the bridge screen zoomed in. The familiar crags of LN-411 loomed large, dotted with the docking scaffolds and solar panel arrays of Jonas’s abandoned mining operation. Beside the rock floated the fragile-looking white ovoid of a Scriber Immolation ship. Keldra hadn’t touched the controls. Her full name had indicated she was Engineer-caste, but she must be controlling the ship using a pilot implant.
Beyond LN-411 another object was visible, much larger than the rock but totally black. Its shape was hard to make out against the stars, but Jonas knew what it was. A regular dodecahedron, a little more than fifty kilometres across, each face a flat plane composed of an exotic material that absorbed almost all radiation, leaving it utterly black and cold. He felt a chill run through him. He had seen recordings, but he had never been this close to a Worldbreaker before.
Keldra had climbed into her nest and was leaning forward in the chair, a grin of anticipation on her face.
‘You like to watch them eat?’ Jonas asked. ‘That’s sick.’
Keldra didn’t react to the insult. Whatever was going through her head was more important to her than being angry with him.
‘Any moment now,’ she said.
A spot of pale green light appeared in the middle of the dark mass and spread into a thin five-pointed star, whose arms began to thicken. One of the Worldbreaker’s faces had split into five triangular petals that were opening outwards, and the light was shining from inside, creating a tenuous beam in the rock dust surrounding LN-411. The beam began to sparkle as bits of the rock broke off and streamed into the Worldbreaker’s flickering pentagonal maw. Jonas watched the Scriber ship as it drifted into the beam and vanished in a puff of orange flame.
After about ten seconds the near surface of the rock glowed green and then crumbled inwards, the solar panels shattering. The Worldbreaker beam had worked its way through, obliterating in moments the installations that Jonas’s workers had taken months to carve out of the rock. The last few fragments fell into the Worldbreaker’s mouth and disappeared, and the light shut off. Dimly, Jonas could see the five petals starting to close.
‘Now watch this.’ Keldra raised her hand with two fingers extended, miming a gun, and pointed it at the Worldbreaker. ‘Pow!’ She fired, swinging her arm expansively.
A white rocket trail flared on the bridge screen and receded, gathering speed towards the Worldbreaker. Through the glare, Jonas could just make out the missile itself: ugly and asymmetrical, looking as though it had been made out of scavenged parts. The shell looked like one of the Reinhardt Industries uranium ore canisters.
Jonas frowned. The sight of a uranium symbol on a missile reminded him of something from Planetary Age history. ‘Is that a nuclear missile?’
Keldra shot him a momentary approving look. She seemed excited. ‘I told you. You should have fought!’
The missile dwindled to a white point that curved into the Worldbreaker’s mouth. The petals were still closing slowly. Jonas’s heart pounded. What if the Worldbreaker turned its beam on them? But Worldbreakers never reacted to people. Keldra was staring at the screen, teeth bared like some prehistoric hunter, waiting for the moment…
There was a bloom of white light from inside the throat, and then the Worldbreaker cracked open. Massive pieces of debris spun away, and from the centre, a cloud of glowing green gas spilled out and began to fade. Keldra punched the air.
‘Yes!’
Jonas stared in disbelief. ‘You killed it.’
‘I’ve killed six of them now.’ She glanced between Jonas and the screen and spoke rapidly, her words tumbling over one another in her excitement. ‘There’s a window, after the beam shuts off but before the mouth closes. Normal weapons weren’t enough, so I found out how to build a nuke. I’ve got my own enrichment plant here on the ship.’
‘You killed it,’ Jonas said again. The green cloud had faded away now. The Worldbreaker and LN-411 were both gone, their remains visible only as a flickering blackness where the debris passed in front of the stars. Jonas watched in silence as it dispersed.
Keldra tapped at a couple of her control boards and the ship began to turn, aligning itself to a new course. Still radiating triumph, she swung herself out of the control nest and grabbed the enslavement spike from her belt.
‘All right, show’s over.’
Jonas sighed, and let his shoulders droop, relaxed. He’d been resigned to this since he’d seen Ayla’s shuttle explode. ‘At least I got to see a Worldbreaker die.’
She put a hand on Jonas’s shoulder and pressed the spike to the back of his neck, where his skull met his spine. He felt a sharp pain as the implant spike broke the skin, then dizziness, then his vision blurred and he blacked out.
Keldra’s face swam back into focus. Jonas flexed his fingers and found that they responded. He blinked, trying to clear his head. ‘You didn’t wipe me,’ he said.
‘The implant’s in dormant mode. I just need to say the word and you’re wiped.’
He rubbed his wrists. The cuffs were gone.
‘There are some other