Details of what had taken place spread along other, less public lines of communication, all the way to the Consortium's highest administrative levels. Across more than a dozen human worlds, government officials, military strategists and special scientific advisory staff-members were roused from what would be the last peaceful sleep some of them would ever enjoy as the seriousness of what had happened became clearer.
Even so, few were in a position to recognize that this was merely the latest exchange in an ancient conflict – one that had suddenly gained the potential to eradicate the Milky Way of life. Twenty-nine 'You've suffered severe malnutrition and shock as well as radiation damage,' Chavez informed him. 'It's going to take more than a medbox to fix all that, as well as some of the extensive scarring and-'
Corso dropped the data-sheet onto the bed beside him and let his head fall back, taking in the rest of the medical bay. 'I already said I want to keep the scars,' he told the medician. 'Including the ones on my face.'
Chavez gave him a doubtful look. He still looked young to Corso, but he'd learned that the medician had been through an ordeal nearly as bad as his own aboard the orbital station at Leviathan's Fall. Almost the entire Consortium expeditionary force that had boarded the Bandati colony was now dead, including General Hua. The sole surviving Consortium frigate in Ocean's Deep had taken a severe battering during the fighting, and its crew was lucky to be alive. They were all lucky to be alive.
'Is this some kind of Freeholder warrior thing?' Chavez asked.
'It's a reminder, to make sure I don't make any more really stupid mistakes.'
He could hear voices – orders barked and random conversations, dopplering up and down the corridor extending beyond the door behind Chavez – from the crew of the Casseia Andris, now docked with the Leviathan's Fall station.
'People keep asking…' the medician paused.
'If this is about Dakota or Nova Arctis, you know I'm not allowed to talk about it,' Corso pointed out gently.
The medician's face reddened slightly. 'Sure. Of course. But there's so many rumours flying around.' He shrugged. 'Stories you hear.'
Corso wondered briefly how much money the medician had been offered. They were stranded light-years from the nearest inhabited star system, but the Casseia Andris 's tach-net transceivers still allowed for zero-lag communications with the Consortium Legislate.
Perhaps inevitably, there had been a leak.
The Shoal had departed Ocean's Deep as suddenly as they had appeared, shortly after the destruction of the station ring holding the Magi ship. The Emissary Godkiller had been reduced to a burned-out ruin, drifting cold and silent through the outer system.
That there was a human presence in a star system well outside of the known Shoal trade routes was now apparently an open secret. The Legislate was being hammered with questions from every world within the Consortium, and every tach-net-linked media agency in existence. And when the Legislate refused to supply adequate answers, a thousand conspiracy theories sprang up to take the place of hard facts. A man like Chavez here stood to make a fortune by throwing just a little light on what was really going on. Whether he'd ever get home to spend it was another question.
And on top of all that, there were the two Magi ships now within the system. The first one had briefly disappeared at first, jumping out of normal space after boosting away from Leviathan's Fall, before returning less than a day later. And then a second Magi ship had appeared from out of nowhere, rapidly taking up orbit around Leviathan's Fall.
Chavez started, his eyes focusing on some unseen horizon in the way people did when they were receiving a communication. 'I have to go,' he said a moment later. 'If there's anything you need-'
You could try not locking me in here like I'm a prisoner, Corso thought. He was constantly being assured that this was only a matter of security, and that he wasn't under arrest. And yet, the fact remained that the door stayed locked.
Instead he muttered, 'I'll be fine.'
And then he was alone.
He picked up the data-sheet once more and reread the words he'd been dictating when Chavez had interrupted.
I knew I wasgoing to die the day we went to Fire Lake to meet Bull Northcutt.
That didn't feel right.
He cleared the screen and dictated a new sentence: We drove over the crest of Fire Lake on our way to meet Bull Northcutt.
Still not right.
He put the sheet down with a sigh.
The last thing he remembered, he'd crawled inside the Piri Reis, severely wounded and bleeding to death. But when the Piri Reis had been recovered, floating free and vacuum-breached, and in a decaying orbit around Leviathan's Fall, they'd found him sealed into the ship's medbox – one of the few systems still functioning on board the tiny vessel.
Maybe he'd crawled inside the thing himself, and just couldn't remember. It was possible – but he didn't believe it.
Something caught his attention from out of the corner of his eye. He glanced back down at the data-sheet and saw new words appearing just below the words he'd dictated.
HELLO LUCAS. ARE YOU RECEIVING VISITORS? – DAK
'Well, I'll be damned,' he whispered.
Then he heard a commotion in the corridor beyond the medical bay. An alarm started wailing somewhere nearby. Even the damned lights flickered like there'd been a power surge – or a hit on the ship. He pushed his blankets away and stood up, carefully, unconsciously pulling his injured arm in close to his belly as he walked over to the door.
To his surprise, it slid open without any problem. The last half-dozen times he'd tried, it had stayed resolutely shut. It revealed a wide passageway decorated in the silver-and-blue livery of the Consortium Defence Forces. Chavez was standing opposite, staring at a set of pressure doors at the far end of the corridor. A trooper seated nearby, clearly left there to guard Corso, was gaping in the same direction with as much confusion as Chavez.
Chavez started when he realized the door to the medical bay was now open. The alarm stopped, leaving a ringing silence, and the pressure doors slid open. A Defence Forces Colonel came striding in fast, barking orders at Corso's guard.
Dakota stepped in right behind the Colonel, looking as relaxed as if taking a stroll on a sunny day. Behind her, maintaining what Corso could only regard as a cautious distance, followed at least a dozen more troopers in matt-grey armour, their weapons held at the ready.
Pandemonium instantly ensued.
Everyone seemed to be shouting at everyone else. Chavez began heatedly berating the Colonel, who was divided between shouting back at the medic and at the trooper set to guard Corso.
Dakota walked past all three of them and gestured towards the interior of the medical bay behind Corso.
'Let's talk,' she said. 'Nobody's going to bother us,' Dakota reassured him, hopping up onto the side of Corso's bed with one leg dangling. He stood with his back to the closed door, and could still hear the Colonel arguing with Chavez.
'Where the hell have you been?' Corso demanded, finally finding his voice. 'All I get asked is What does she want, What does she want, like I'm your fucking spokesperson. I… I…'
He trailed off and she smiled. He realized she looked happier and healthier than at any time since he'd first met her.
'I just got back from negotiations with Colonel Leidner,' she told him. 'I get the impression they've been keeping you very much in the dark all this time.'
Assuming that Leidner had been put in charge of the surviving Consortium forces following Hua's death, Corso shrugged non-committally and flopped into the visitor's chair. 'You could say that. So they just let you walk in here?'