Sword of Minerva (The Guild Wars Book 10) by Mark Wandrey (good books to read for teens txt) 📗

This ship was similar to the ship Sato had bought, down to a bridge with viewports into space. He didn’t have time to get back to the asteroid. Besides, there were no other ships. He moved quickly to the rear of the cockpit/bridge and found a trio of lifesaving balls, like the one Sato had given Dakkar. “This will do,” he said, taking them in the same arm that was holding the laser rifles, and returning to the front of the bridge. Another battery exploded.

“Time to go,” Rick said. Pointing his arm at the window and changing the frequency of his lasers, he made a slashing cut. He pulled himself into a ball as the cockpit glass, weakened by his laser beam, exploded outward, propelling him into space.

Another battery flashed and exploded, and this time the entire battery bank went with it. Fusion containment failed a second later. The little Insertion Cutter’s fusion core pulsed, released from the magnetic confinement of the buffers, and it consumed anything and everything for a handful of microseconds until there was a flare. Not quite a nuclear explosion, the energetic plasma expanded at the speed of light. The cutter exploded, and the shockwave shoved Rick away with a hundred Gs of acceleration.

* * * * *

Chapter Nine

Sato had run out of ideas. Restrained as he was, he’d let his brain run through every imaginable scenario, but none of them found a way out. He dearly wished for his pinplants back. Even the comms feature would allow him to call Rick, or even Dakkar. Fear was quickly overcoming logic and planning.

A slimy sensation sliding along his back would have made him jump if he’d had control of his body. It moved, and he screamed, but something covered his mouth. It was a big, graying mass of wet flesh and suction cups. Dakkar!

“What are you doing here?” he asked as the tentacle moved aside to let him breathe. The Wrogul pulsed light in reply. No matter how many years Sato had spent with Nemo, he’d never learned more than hello in the Wrogul language. He had absolutely zero idea what the young alien was saying. “My pinplants are out; I can’t understand you.”

He felt Dakkar’s tentacles move on his head, realizing what was going to happen a second too late to stop it. A pair of tentacles penetrated his skull, and Sato lost consciousness.

When he woke up, he was standing ankle deep in warm, lapping water. Luscious sunlight shone on his bare skin, making him realize he was naked. In one direction was a long expanse of seashore; up the beach in the other direction was a settlement of modern buildings. Nobody was in view.

“This is Azure!” he realized aloud. The incredibly deep blue water and pink skies were beautiful and made him sigh. His mind hinted at good memories.

“Yes, this is Azure.”

Sato followed the voice and saw an adult Wrogul floating in the air next to him. No visible means of support held the alien in the air, yet its tentacles waved about as if in a current.

“This is a dream,” he realized.

“Not really.”

“Nemo?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m Nemo.”

“If this isn’t a dream, what is it?”

“A message to you, recorded before you left New Warsaw.”

“How did you record a message? Dakkar doesn’t have pinplants.”

“Wrogul don’t need pinplants to exchange memories, old friend. I recorded this when I created my bud to send with you.”

“Why did you record a video like this?”

“Because I suspected you were returning to those who sent you to Azure, and sending a bud was the best way to provide a clear, conclusive ending.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. To understand, you must remember.”

The world broke apart as if reality were painted on glass, and fragments fell away, cascading and spinning as the universe became an endless void, until nothing remained.

It began to rain shimmering drops of memories. They hit Sato like bullets, tearing through him and lodging in his brain. The trickle became a downpour, which then became a deluge. In moments he was drowning on memories. Eventually, they began to congeal.

* * *

He’d just had his 19th birthday and was standing on the loading ramp of Sakura Maru, the summation of his family’s wealth liquidated into a single ship. His grandfather had chosen him as one of the 34 crewmembers, and he was so filled with pride, he feared his heart would burst. Before them, a hundred reporters called out questions and recorded the event in old-style digital and the newer alien Tri-V.

Out in the family area, Ichika, his girlfriend, waved to him and smiled. He broke discipline for just a moment and waved back. Her smile held a seemingly infinite measure of hope and promise.

* * *

The office had a distant view of the Imperial Palace and the starport construction project in the far distance. His partnership at the research consultancy they’d set up after Sakura Maru had returned had drawn customers from all over the planet. The Four Horsemen had sent inquiries. They had the ear of the Japanese government, and the future was set.

Ichika had graduated and become a doctor. The two worked long hours, but there was never any doubt they would make a family. Father already scowled slightly whenever children were brought up. He didn’t understand; they were just too busy. Soon enough, there would be time.

* * *

“She wants you, Sato.”

He looked at the American and scowled. When he hadn’t responded to the inquiry, they’d sent this man to convince him. Probably because he’d met the man at a symposium on Galactic Union technology last year.

“I know, but I have already been out in the galaxy. Two years.”

“That’s why she wants you.”

Sato looked down at the alien-made slate.