Defy the Worlds (Defy the Stars #2)(91)
Abel considers her philosophical acceptance useful, as Remedy ships have also begun to arrive. They’re not as disparate as the motley Vagabond crews; these are mostly older Earth troopships or medical scows, one is even a retrofitted Damocles. Remedy prefers ships that were built to fight, though from the sight of them, the ships haven’t seen combat in many years. Probably the Remedy fighters haven’t seen large-scale combat ever. But they’re here because they’re hungry for battle—for the kind of conflict that will end their status as terrorists and turn them into a true army.
Virginia has remained at her console almost the entire time, searching for the info packet the Razers had promised her—if they were able to get it, which at this point Abel surmises they haven’t. Humans are slow to give up hope. He thinks she hasn’t even been listening until she interjects, “You’re asking who your allies are? You’ve got a bigger problem.”
Abel doesn’t immediately grasp her point, but Noemi must already have been considering the issue. “Nobody’s in charge.”
At that, Virginia finally looks up, a strange smile on her face. “You’d better figure that out, quick. Or else the ship with the biggest guns is going to figure it out for you.” A light on her console flickers, and she claps her hands together. “Oh, Ludwig, you flashiest of flashes, you!”
Noemi hurries to Virginia’s side. “The new form of Cobweb—you’ve got it?” They marvel at the screen as though they can devise a cure just from looking at the viral structure, which even Abel himself couldn’t do, but sometimes humans simply like to look at evidence of their accomplishments.
He, however, remains focused on the problem Virginia has highlighted. “We should call a meeting of all the captains, of both the Remedy ships and the Vagabond fleet.” He may not understand the nuances and illogicality of human political thought, but he was programmed with basic tactics. “With Ephraim, Harriet, and Zayan to back us up, we should be able to assert that much authority. Afterward—”
Noemi finishes the thought for him. “I guess we’ll see.”
The next hour brings a few happy reunions—Harriet and Zayan running back onto the Persephone bridge, declaring themselves home; Ephraim scooping Noemi, then Virginia, up in his arms until their feet don’t touch the ground—but the impending meeting, and potential battle, occupies the largest part of Abel’s thoughts. To judge by his friends’ jittery, uneven energy, they, too, are worried. More Remedy ships appear every few minutes, which on some levels is encouraging. This is truly a potential war fleet, one that would give even Earth pause.
If they can avoid internal power struggles, he thinks, the next few days could change the course of galactic history.
Both Abel and Noemi would’ve preferred to hold the meeting aboard the Persephone, but it’s not large enough to house a gathering of more than one hundred Remedy leaders and Vagabond pilots. The biggest vessel of the fleet is the Krall Consortium’s flagship, the Katara, and so that’s where everyone is headed. (The Persephone is at least given the prestige of docking rights on the Katara; most captains have to take single-pilot craft over instead.)
“Couldn’t we just, you know, interface via comms?” Virginia seems uncomfortable not relying on technology. “Everybody has to be in the same room?”
Harriet nods firmly. “Comms can be hacked. Voice messages can be faked. Back in the early days, Vagabonds sometimes had it rough telling the true from the false. Person-to-person talk, though—that you can prove. No Vagabond would negotiate something this important any other way.”
With a shrug, Virginia says, “I guess if we run into trouble, we’ve got the galaxy’s most badass mech here to help us out.”
Abel freezes, but his friends don’t catch it right away. “What trouble?” Harriet folds her arms. “You think all Vagabonds are criminals, don’t you? Just like you pampered prats on Cray—”
“Hey,” Noemi interjects. “Could we not have all the planets fighting among themselves here on our own bridge? Earth sets us all up not to trust one another. We have to do better than that.”
The others nod, but Zayan’s expression has become confused. “Wait a second. We have a mech to help us out? Where?”
Virginia claps one hand over her mouth. Ephraim, who doesn’t understand as much of the context, simply points at Abel. Both Harriet’s and Zayan’s eyes go wide. The secret Abel’s kept so long is out.
“I ought to have told you long ago,” he says. “I’m a special prototype of the late Burton Mansfield, with capabilities and intelligence beyond that of any other mech currently in production.” Once he would’ve said in existence, but Gillian’s further experiments make him wonder.
Zayan stares. “You’re a mech? You?”
After a long moment, Harriet laughs. “You’re putting us on, right?”
“He’s telling the truth.” Noemi, at Abel’s side, puts one hand on his arm. “It doesn’t make him any less a person than you or me.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Zayan says, then shakes his head. “You can’t be a mech. You don’t act like one—except for the thing where you’re really good at equations in your head, and being really strong, and oh my God you’re a mech.”