Lacuna: The Spectre of Oblivion Page 5

  “Very well, Commander,” one answered. “We’re here for her protection, not yours. Commodore Vong thought having an unescorted Toralii wandering Earth could be detrimental for her safety.”

  Liao was forced to agree with his assessment. “Well, she’s here now. Thank you.” She shut the door, then turned to Saara, beaming. “I was wondering when you were going to visit! Have they been keeping you busy, then?”

  Saara bobbed her head. [“They have, yes. Captain Grégoire is a fair commander, but he expects much of those under his command.”]

  “Well that’s good. Wouldn’t want you getting bored, then.”

  [“Rest assured, Captain, I am not bored.”]

  There was something in Saara’s demeanour that caused Liao a moment’s concern, a little voice nagging at the back of her head. She didn’t seem as happy as Liao had expected. Saara was usually a lot more excited to see her, a lot more energetic in her behaviour. Now she seemed reserved, more formal than usual, even distracted.

  “Everything okay?” Liao asked. Saara gave a slow nod.

  [“Yes, Captain Liao. I am well.”]

  She narrowed her eyes slightly. “You seem… really kind of distracted.”

  [“I… I suppose this is true.”] Saara looked away a moment. [“To be honest with you, I had considered not coming at all. The deaths of the Telvan on Velsharn weigh heavily on me, I confess, and seeing your face causes those memories to resurface anew. It has made me reluctant to see you again since my appointment in your court.”]

  Liao reached out and touched Saara’s fur-covered forearm. “I know,” she said. “It hurts for me, too. I remember going down to the planet, seeing the devastation firsthand. But you know I didn’t want that to happen, don’t you? That wasn’t what I wanted.”

  Saara hesitated for a moment, then looked back to Liao, her big yellow eyes hiding a profound regret and sorrow. [“I know,”] she said. [“Although, I wish things had not turned out the way they had. So many dead… all innocent civilians who had done nothing wrong. And children.”]

  “I wish it were different, too,” said Liao, giving a slow nod of her head, forcing a sad smile. “But we’re here now. I wish I could have brought Qadan here, shown him Earth, but that was not to be. Sometimes fate deals us a harsh hand, and all we can do is try to make the best of what we have.”

  [“I know,”] said Saara, [“but that doesn’t quell the ache in my heart.”]

  Liao adjusted her hold on the small infant, leaning in and wrapping an arm around Saara’s chest, giving her a tight hug. She buried her face in the fur of her shoulder, forcing herself to keep her breathing steady.

  “I know,” Liao said. “Believe me, I know.”

  *****

  The next morning

  A faint knocking on the door awoke her from her rest. Light filtered through the cracks in the curtains. She stretched, cracking her joints, before slipping out of bed. James hadn’t stirred yet. She gave his bare backside a gentle pat, pulled a towel off the floor, then headed for the door. She stepped through the kitchen, then to the foyer, passing by a snoozing Saara on the couch. Determined to let at least someone in their apartment sleep, Liao pushed back the cover on the peephole to the outside.

  A clean cut, youthful looking man in the uniform of the People’s Republic of China Army Navy was standing there. A junior officer by his epaulets, a Lieutenant.

  “Hello?”

  The man straightened his back. “Commander Liao?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Lieutenant Kang Tai, Commander. I’ve been assigned to your protection.”

  Frowning, Liao blinked, eyeing the man through the peephole. “Protection? I didn’t request anything like that.”

  “The request came directly from Commodore Vong, ma’am. Can you please open the door?”

  Liao would have opened the door, but this event struck her as unusual. “Got some ID?”

  “I’ll just get it out. Hang on.”

  Moments later a thin ID card was held up before the peephole. Lieutenant Kang Tai, People’s Republic of China Army Navy, Military Police. The hologram looked authentic.

  “One moment.”

  She discarded the towel, picked up a set of jeans and a shirt, then roughly shoved all the other clothes under the couch. She and James had not been expecting visitors, and it had been nice, she admitted, to discard the routine of dressing in the same clothes every day, especially now she was out of maternity wear.

  Satisfied she was adequately dressed, she undid the latch on the door and turned the knob, opening it. “Please come in,” she offered, “but don’t mind the mess. We weren’t expecting visitors.”

  Tai stepped through the threshold, smiling slightly. “It’s quite fine, ma’am.”

  Liao raised an eyebrow sardonically. “Aren’t you going to say something in Chinese just so I can rebuke you and ask you to speak in English only?”

  Tai laughed at that, rolling his eyes. “They warned me about your preference in languages, and I was specifically picked because of my English fluency. So no.”

  She folded her arms, frowning. “Really?”

  “They told me you wouldn’t be happy about me telling you that, either.”

  “So far ‘they’ are two for two.” Liao shook her head. “I still don’t know why you’re here.”

  “There was a threat against you,” Tai said. “It came from the Kel-Voran embassy. I suppose there are downsides to being famous, ma’am.”

  She raised an eyebrow curiously. “The one in Melbourne? I’m not sure I understand; what do the Kel-Voran have against me?”

  “Nothing. The message was relayed through the Kel-Voran by the Toralii Alliance. Fleet Command believes the threat is credible, so they’ve assigned a guard to your person.”

  Liao tried very hard not to roll her eyes. “This has absolutely nothing to do with the alien crashing on my couch?”

  Tai shook his head emphatically. “No. Security’s vetted Saara. She’s not a threat.”

  “Well, right. I’m not sure how an armed bodyguard will assist against the Toralii. Their method of assassination seems to be orbital bombardment, and while I’m sure you’re good at your job, I don’t think you can prevent that kind of thing. Takes a little more than pepper spray.”

  Tai gave a firm nod. “No, you’re right of course…” His features brightened somewhat. “But the powers that be had to be seen to be doing something, which is why they sent me. Of course it’s all political, I’m afraid.”

  Liao nodded. “Well, thanks for your honesty. I appreciate that.”

  “They said you would.”

  She tried, and failed, to keep her mouth closed. “I wish ‘they’ would put as much effort into finding out more about this supposed threat, and avoiding unnecessary politics, as they did in predicting my every move.”

  Tai smiled an apologetic smile. “You and me both. Alas we are but mortals, Captain.”

  Liao waved her hand at that. “To be a captain you have to have a ship. It’s just Commander now, but you know what? These days I’d prefer simply Melissa.”

  “That’s a little informal, isn’t it?”

  She gestured down to her jeans. “My official post in the People’s Army is Person of Interest to the Parade and Propaganda Unit. Literally, my job for the last six months has been to simply exist. I think I can throw away silly things like ranks and titles at this point.” Her voice softened slightly. “I’m not a captain anymore. I’m basically a civilian. Might as well act like it.”

  “Very well, as you wish.” Tai stepped into the room, casually putting his hands into his pockets. “I’ll note that in my paperwork.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, you make sure you do. As well as the filthy state of my apartment, I suppose?”

  Tai smiled. “Nah, that one can remain our secret, assuming you kept some of that scotch you were famous for having.”

  “I kind of hoped I’d become famous for blowing up not one, but two Toralii
outposts, for winning hopeless battles against long odds… and for fucking another space captain.” She gave a depreciating smile. “Well, maybe not that last bit.”

  “Unfortunately, you’re well known for all three. It’s an unfortunate problem in our media driven society that one’s victories are forgotten and our defeats immortalised.”

  “Yes, well, until we die. Then the process reverses itself; nobody can speak ill of the dead.”

  “No, I guess not. So, scotch?”

  Liao pointed to the kitchen. “Top shelf, third one along. Pour me some while you’re at it; the baby will be awake soon.”

  Tai stepped away to fetch the drinks, and Liao slumped into the seat beside her couch, glancing over at Saara who seemed to be fast asleep. When Tai returned, she had nearly joined her Toralii friend in having a nap, but she accepted the drink without complaint. In seconds it was gone, and Liao savoured the burning feeling as it slipped down her throat.

  “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s it like being in space?” asked Tai, sitting on the chair opposite hers, giving Saara a curious glance. Liao had become quite accustomed to the Toralii’s presence and sometimes forgot that it would be startling for those who were not used to her.

  “Huh?”

  “Space. You were there, remember?” Tai leaned forward, cupping his drink with both hands. “What’s it like?”

  “Hell,” Liao answered, resting her empty cup down with a clink of ice on glass. “Back in my day, they used to shoot you up there in a rocket. These days, you get a ride in a Broadsword, but those old rockets didn’t have artificial gravity. I don’t know about you, but when I’m in zero gravity, my lunch usually makes a cameo appearance. When you get there, you’re crammed up with eight thousand crew, most of whom have somewhat lackadaisical attitudes towards bathing, and all of them treat you as some kind of surrogate parent to come crying to with every little detail. They fight, whine, fuck, get blind drunk, break things, get homesick, cry for their mummy, have affairs, their wives or husbands have affairs, get claustrophobic… They have every personal problem under the sun. They devolve into a kind of child-like state. The food is inedible, the paperwork endless, and the job tiresome. You don’t get much sleep, and unlike a real ship, you can’t just go out and take a walk—it’s mighty cold out there. You live in a highly oxygenated environment so your fitness suffers and, due to being surrounded by the void and millions of kilometres away from anywhere, it’s dangerous. People call on you at every time of day and night and your life revolves around the Operations room. There’s a constant threat of alien attack, aliens who, might I add, significantly out-class you, out-number you, out-gun you. You never see your family. It’s intensely lonely, and when you come back from doing the impossible, they throw you in a court martial. And did I mention the pay is terrible?”

  He laughed. “Eh, the pay’s okay. Beats my old job, working IT for the coal mines.” Tai swished his drink. “So why did you do it?”

  Liao tilted her head back, staring up at the ceiling, silent for a moment. “Because it was the best job I’ve ever had.”

  “You realise how insane that sounds, right?”

  She nodded, instinctively reaching for the empty glass, then putting it back down. “Yeah.” Liao laughed, shaking away her memories. “Doesn’t make it untrue, though. It’s… a wonderful opportunity, despite its hardships. I think that year in space was probably the best of my life, and I did a damn good job, too. I think it really was my calling. It was something I could do really well. I was born to be the captain of that ship. It was the best thing I’d ever done, and I was good at it.” She cast her eyes to the door that held her sleeping infant. “Better captain than I am a mother, I think.”

  Tai drank the last of his drink. “I don’t know anything about that, really. She’s still alive; that would indicate that you’ve done just fine.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You really haven’t named your kid?”

  “Nope.” An edge of annoyance crept into her tone. “I’ve already had this discussion with James, and it’s really something we should sort out ourselves.”

  Tai held up a hand. “Of course. I’m merely saying, it’s very odd. And the press is really curious about why you’re doing it. I think they’re guessing it’s some kind of ploy to throw them off.”

  “The press can go fuck themselves. I—we—haven’t decided on a good name yet, and that’s all I have to say. In time, she’ll have the most beautiful and perfect name, but right now… we’re not ready.”

  The door to their bedroom swung open with a faint creak. James stepped, naked, into the foyer.

  Liao pointed over her shoulder. “James, Mister Tai. Mister Tai, naked James.”

  “Nice to meet you,” James mumbled, yawning as he stretched.

  Tai did a double take, but James seemed too tired to care, simply shrugging and walking into the kitchen. “Does he normally do that?”

  “We haven’t had much time to sleep, what with the baby needing attention every few hours or so,” Liao said, “and we don’t get many visitors.”

  Tai grimaced slightly. “Captain Grégoire is supposed to be resting during his shore leave.”

  “A recognised part of shore leave is to spend time with family,” Liao countered. “And besides, it’s good for his morale.”

  Tai laughed, nodding. “Right, right. And I probably shouldn’t be telling captains what to do with their time.”

  Liao waved a hand. “Whatever. I told you; it’s fine.”

  Tai peered at her for a moment as though confused by the surprising informality, then seemed to remember something, snapping his fingers. “Well actually, there was one thing, too. Captain de Lugo was hoping to visit sometime in the next couple of months, as he will be in town inspecting some of the gear scheduled to be put in the TFR Madrid.”

  The name rang a bell. Putting that thought aside for a moment, Liao raised an eyebrow. “They finished that thing?”

  “Not quite. It’s spaceworthy, but a lot of the systems haven’t been installed: flight control, jump navigation, fighter launch subsystems. It has rail guns though, apparently, according to the news.”

  “No nukes?” she asked. The Triumph class ships, such as the Beijing and the Madrid, carried warheads tipped with nuclear devices. Although the rail guns had substantially more effective range due to their higher speed, and conventional thought had anticipated that the vast distances found in space combat would render more conventional weapons useless, the reality was space warfare took place at extremely close quarters. The same problem was observed when aircraft started to carry long-range missiles in the Vietnam war; although an F4 Phantom could destroy a Soviet MiG from up to twenty miles away, matters of identification and the unreliability of missiles meant that close-range dogfighting was the most common form of engagement. This process of relearning lessons the armed forces of the world had already learnt was painful but progressing rapidly.

  “Not yet. Apparently they’re being installed fairly soon-ish; there’s hope that the Madrid can join the Sydney on its next operation. There’s talk of pairing the two ships on a more permanent basis so they can project more force as a unit.”

  Although the Sydney had suffered the worst of them, all of the first three Pillars of the Earth had suffered various system malfunctions and instabilities during their initial shakedown cruises. She hoped the worst of the issues would be resolved for the new breed of ships. “Good.”

  [“Mister Tai,”] came a voice from the couch. Saara pulled herself up into a sitting position, giving a yawn that displayed a wide array of very sharp teeth. [“Apologies, but I felt I could pretend to be asleep no longer.”] She smiled to the guard, a genuine smile, but one Liao thought was somewhat guarded. [“I am Saara.”]

  “A pleasure,” Tai said, nodding politely. “I’ve read your file. Although I must confess; my Toralii language is not very good. I’m sorry.”

  Saara shuffled somewhat uncomfortably, looking to
Liao. [ “I must confess, I served in a humble position when I was with the Telvan. I am unused to celebrity and having my name be known to every stranger. I am not sure I can ever become accustomed to it.”]

  “You and I both,” said Liao. Seeing Tai’s confused look, Liao repeated what she had said in English.

  James wandered back out, turned down the corridor, then disappeared into the laundry room. Tai discreetly drank until James returned, moments later, now wearing a pair of ill-fitting pants and a shirt.

  “So who’s this Mister Tai, then?”

  Liao grimaced slightly. “My bodyguard, apparently.”

  “You requested a bodyguard?”

  Tai gave an apologetic smile. “No, Captain, it wasn’t her. Commodore Vong did.”

  Liao reached out and patted James on the thigh. “I told him to call me Melissa. You should probably do the same thing or it’ll get awkward.”

  James seemed less enthusiastic about it but reluctantly nodded his head. “Right. Call me Melissa, too.”

  The four of them all laughed, then Tai nodded. “Right, right. Melissa and Melissa. Got it.”

  Liao smiled, then the baby started to cry again and she eased herself out of her chair, giving James a reassuring pat as he put his head in his hands.

  *****

  Tai stood guard the first night he arrived, having spent the remainder of the day sweeping their apartment for bugs, surveying the entrances and exits, and determining vantage points for snipers. Liao thought the process entirely unnecessary, but she understood that he was just doing his job.

  It was the evening, after Liao had fed their infant and was preparing to crawl back into bed again, that her phone rang with a blocked number. Curious, for she did not receive many calls, Liao fished it out of her pocket and answered.

  “喂?”

  There was a faint hiss over the line, indicating it was open, but Liao could hear nothing on the other end. “Hello?” she tried, moving to the window to get better reception.

  “My my my,” came a low voice, English accented and articulate, “I didn’t think Melissa Liao would answer her phone in Chinese.”