The Consuming Fire (The Interdependency #2)(63)

“You think I’m a computer projection and not a ghost, Mr. Hanton?”

“Dr. Hanton.”

“Dr. Hanton. My apologies.”

“And aren’t you?”

“It’s accurate to say I’m a little of both,” said the apparition.

“Who and what are you, then?” Marce asked.

“My name is Tomas. Tomas Reynauld Chenevert. Or was, when I died, which now I find was more than three hundred years ago. Good lord. I was the owner of the Auvergne, the ship you are now standing on. And now you could say I am the Auvergne. How I became a ship after I had been a human is a long story which is perhaps best saved for another time. But I still prefer to be called Tomas, if it’s all the same to you. Or Monsieur Chenevert, if you prefer.”

“Hello, Monsieur Chenevert,” Marce said.

“Hello, Lord Marce. Or is it Lord Claremont?”

“Lord Marce. The Count Claremont is my father.”

“A count. Indeed.”

“This is very weird,” Hanton said.

“It is indeed,” Chenevert said, to Marce. “I put myself to sleep with the full expectation that I would not ever fully wake up. Except for the most minimal of maintenance, the ship has been dormant for three centuries. But now I find myself awake, and with guests. Can you please tell me why you are here?”

“I was curious about this ship,” Marce said.

“What about it made you curious?”

“To begin, where it was from.”

“That’s answered simply enough. It’s from Ponthieu.”

“Where is that? Is that on Earth?”

Chenevert smiled at this. “Oh, no, Lord Marce. Nothing’s really from Earth anymore, is it?”

Before Marce could respond to that there was a ping in his ear: a message from Captain Laure, recorded because the Bransid was several light-seconds away.

“We have a problem,” it said. “Another ship has come through the Flow shoal. It’s located us and is heading our way. Our attempts to hail it have been unsuccessful. We’re assuming it is hostile.”

“Are you hearing this?” Gamis said. The message had been sent to the entire team. Sherrill waved him to silence.

“Do not return to the Bransid,” Laure continued. “If the ship is hostile, all your shuttle will be is an easy target. We are powering up and heading away from the Dalasyslan ship to draw the other ship away. Dr. Seve and Lyton are still with the Dalasyslans. If necessary and possible the Bransid will make a break for the Flow shoal back to Hub. If that happens head to the Dalasyslan ship and take refuge there. We will arrange for rescue. Do not respond. Radio silence until further notice. Good luck.” The message ended.

“Can the Bransid defend itself?” Marce asked Sherrill.

“Back in the day the Bransid was a naval interceptor,” Sherrill said. “But these days it pulls courier duty. It’s not armed for battle. It has defensive weaponry. That’s it.”

“So if that other ship is hostile, the Bransid is a soft target,” Hanton said.

“Captain Laure will put up a fight,” Sherrill said.

“That’s not what I asked, though.”

“Your ship is under attack?” Chenevert asked Marce, watching the conversation.

“Not yet,” Marce said. “But maybe soon.”

“Not from the Dalasyslans.”

“No.” It occurred to Marce that Chenevert, asleep for three hundred years, might not be caught up on current events.

“Then from whom?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“I regret to say that I’m not in a position to offer much help,” Chenevert said. “I’m using stored battery power for gravity and life support—the ship will be warm enough for you soon—but reactivating the engines will take several hours.”

“Anything we can do to help?”

“Thank you, no. This ship’s engineering section is entirely automated and was even before I became the ship. You’d just be in the way.”

“This ship is going to go behind Dalasysla Prime soon,” Hanton said. “We’ll be cut off from the Bransid no matter what.”

“If anything happens to the Bransid, we’re screwed,” Gamis said.

“You’re welcome to stay here,” Chenevert said to him.

“That’s great,” Gamis replied, sarcastically. “Got any sandwiches?”

“Quiet, Private,” Sherrill said. Gamis shut up. Sherrill looked over to Marce. “He’s not wrong, though.”

Marce nodded. “What supplies do we have on the shuttle?”

“Enough protein bars for about five days for each of us. Probably about three days of water each.”

“I have water,” Chenevert said.

“No food, though,” Marce said.

“Sorry, no. Even if I did, after three hundred years you wouldn’t want it.”

“So all the water we need but still only five days of food,” Sherrill said.

“The Dalasyslans would feed us,” Marce said.

“They can barely feed themselves, sir. Not to mention we can’t get out of our suits without risking infecting them.”

“What’s happened to the Dalasyslans?” Chenevert asked.