Tyche's Grace Read online

  Grace went to her fallen friends, dragging on Iwao’s shoulders. Aya joined her, pulling Megumi free of the gas’s clutches. Outside in the night air, Grace put a mask over Iwao’s face, handing the other to Aya so her mother could cover Megumi’s face. She pulled plastic ties from the tactical belt, securing her once-bodyguards hands behind them, then lifted Iwao with a huff over a shoulder.

  Her mother did the same, struggling a little with Megumi, but there was iron in her spine as she stood. “Let’s be free,” said Aya.

  “Let’s,” said Grace, setting off towards the parking facility.

  • • •

  Grace didn’t take the same car she had on her previous trip to the wedded rocks. She wanted to, but she needed something that flew for where they were going. She was also certain a tracker would be inside it. It’s what her training suggested.

  “I should stay,” said Aya. “I will only slow you down.”

  “If you stay, you will die,” said Grace, hands tracing down the lines of an air car suitable for long hauls. It had boxy drive cones, windows tinted against prying eyes. It would be perfect. Grace keyed the side door’s entry, laying Iwao on the floor. She checked that his mask was still secure, then helped Aya with Megumi.

  “Better that than—”

  “There’s been enough death today,” said Grace. She let a little steel in her tone. There wasn’t time to waste arguing. They could do that plenty when they were in the skies.

  Her mother blinked twice. “You are what we made you,” she said.

  Grace didn’t respond, closing the side door and slipping behind the pilot’s controls up front. Air cars weren’t like starships, lacking the elegance a Helm would want to punch the hard black. Still, the controls for navigating three dimensional space were complicated. Grace had spent time enough in simulators to know what to do, but she wasn’t going to waste effort on flying the car. The automated systems would do just fine. She fired the air car up, the holo blinking to life. DESTINATION?

  Aya looked at her. “There’s nowhere we can go,” she said.

  “That’s his voice you’re talking with,” said Grace. “You know that, right?”

  Her mother looked down. “You don’t know—”

  “I’ve got some idea,” said Grace. She let her voice soften. “When your life is a lie, you look for other truth.” Grace glanced back at Iwao and Megumi. “Ready?”

  “Ready,” said her mother.

  Grace typed on the console. OSAKA SPACEPORT. She cleared the car’s warnings at her chosen destination. It chuffed as the drives kicked the ground, pushing them into the night sky. Her mother made a small noise, maybe of surprise, maybe of fear. But as Grace looked at her, she saw pride in her mother’s face. “He won’t follow us there,” said Aya.

  “He might,” said Grace. “But he’s got no friends. Equal footing.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  OSAKA.

  It stretched under them like a beggar’s blanket, old and rotten. Getting here had taken just twenty minutes, the Mie Prefecture falling behind them. Osaka was Iwao’s home town, a place he’d run from when the nano weapons fell. They’d passed over the walls surrounding the ruins of Osaka, automated systems warning them to turn back. The walls contained good Guild tech, scrubbers designed for terraforming keeping the nanites inside. Apparently the nanites knew how to tear people into component atoms, but sucked at climbing walls. The design was one of the first the machines had used against humans. Imperfect, flawed, but deadly in specific situations. Access was through the lungs, and they wouldn’t activate until they hit that location. Grace suspected the machines only wanted to kill people, not everything else, so it wasn’t such a silly design. The walls around Osaka were marked with physical and virtual signage: OSAKA GUILD ARCHEOLOGY AND RESEARCH. Despite the AI war being over, the Guild still learned from the silicon machines they’d beaten back into sand.

  So, Osaka wasn’t safe. Not for people. The robots in the air would get in your lungs, eating you from the inside out. No one lived there, not even squatters or scavengers. The Guild went inside on a limited basis only. It was perfect, because only the suicidal would attempt breaking in. It had always been at the edge of Grace’s mind, a forbidden place above all other forbidden places. Her father didn’t let her leave the grounds, but no one would be foolish enough to go to Osaka. Osaka remained, a memory of humanity’s foolishness and pride. We thought to make Gods that would kneel at our feet.

  That aside, thought Grace with a wry smile, there were two things Osaka had going for it. The first was a lack of people who could be manipulated by her father, either through political gain or through gross manipulation of their minds. There would be no defenses raised against them. Grace knew she was better at machines and systems than Kazuo, and felt confident she could get where she wanted to go.

  Which led to the second good thing about Osaka. It had a spaceport. Old starships sat on the deck, quarantined after the fall, just waiting for someone to collect them. They’d be locked down, reactors dark, but otherwise good to go. They needed to find one that would fly, and they could escape Earth. Aya and her could travel to another star. The Empire was enormous, no shortage of planets scattered in the void ready to take in a couple of refugees. Especially if one of them had a particular set of skills.

  The air car roared over the spaceport outskirts, slowing into descent. No signs of movement. Not even trash ran away as they descended. Grace knew the trick about surviving Osaka was to never take your mask off, never breaking the thin rubber seal around her mouth and nose. The starships would be infected with them. It was risky, but with risk came reward. She didn’t know how she would solve the nano weapon problem once they were coated in tiny robots hungry for a way in, but getting off-world was more important than anything else. Grace hoped they could solve that before she needed to eat or drink. Perhaps they could find a Guild outpost that would help them.

  • • •

  The emptiness of the spaceport felt like the grounds had, just after sensei had died with all the housekeepers. No life, no human emotions swirling around. Grace and Aya found a starship with its ramp down. It’s name was the Harlegand, faded letters taller than a person on its hull. It was a Western name with no special significance to Grace, but the ship would be their home for a jump or two at least. The Harlegand was a small ship by most standards, just four main drives at the rear, a cargo bay slung below four crew decks.

  Inside, all was silent. Grace and Aya left Megumi and Iwao inside, turning the manual handle on the airlock doors, shutting out the memory of Osaka. They flicked lights on their masks on, beams piercing the darkness inside the hull. Inside the ship, corridors stretched fore and aft. Grace set her feet aft, rewarded after a few paces by paint against the bulkhead. A small map for newcomers to the ship. Engineering aft. The bridge was above. The bridge was useless without power, so she went further aft.

  Inside Engineering, she found the remains of someone. It was difficult to tell who had died here. A broken mask, a small pile of dust. That was it. The nanites had got in through a tiny crack, then milled this person down to base atoms. Grace stepped over the sad little pile, moving towards the twin reactors at the rear. Grace didn’t know if they were older or newer in the grand scheme of things, just that they held the power of suns. She let her fingers run over the surface of the first, finding the startup lever. Grace pulled it, and with a clank, absolutely nothing happened. It needs a jump. Somewhere there would be a dynamo. She turned to Aya, speaking in English. “Mom. Look for a wheel this big.” She held her hands about twenty centimeters apart.

  “Why English?” said Aya.

  “We’re no longer Japanese,” said Grace. “We’re fucking spacers, Mom.”

  Her mother’s half-smile, despite the circumstances, warmed the room more than any reactor would. “I think you’re taking to this new persona too well.”

  “Might not be a persona,” said Grace. “It feels … like it should be me.”

&nb
sp; “Here,” said Aya, pointing to the dynamo. It was tucked to the rear of the reactor.

  Grace flipped out the handle, checking the instructions printed in English. Turn wheel twenty times. Check display for errors. If no errors present, press Emergency Start. Simple enough. She turned the wheel the instructed twenty rotations. It was smooth, no sign of corrosion. So smooth, she wasn’t sure it was working, but after a moment, a chirp and a cascade of lights lit the front of the reactor. She ignored the console, because if there were errors they were really fucked, and pressed the emergency start.

  There was a whine, then a groan, followed by a solid hum. Lights in Engineering flickered on, the gloom banished in a moment. A hiss as cyclers, long disused, pumped air through the ship. “Now,” said Grace. “Now, we go to the bridge.”

  • • •

  Nothing was ever that simple. When Grace and Aya reached the airlock on the way to the bridge, Megumi and Iwao were gone. In their place, two sets of plastic ties remained. Grace frowned. It would take a careless disregard for your own skin to worry those off. Sure enough, a bloody handprint on the wall suggested Megumi and Iwao were on their way to the bridge.

  “Grace,” said Aya. “We should take another ship.”

  “And leave my friends here?” said Grace. “No. The line is here, Mom. The line he can never cross again. My friends are not his … playthings.” She stalked forward, sword held low, but blade in the scabbard. Another bloody handprint on a railing showed she was on the right track.

  The ship rocked underneath them, the liftoff sequence starting. Fair enough, Dad. We were taking off anyway. Grace ran when she hit the bridge deck, keeping her steps as light and quiet as she could.

  Inside the bridge — door wide open, no locks attempted against Grace, who would have shrugged them aside anyway — were Iwao and Megumi. Both had a bloody, broken hand each where they’d worried the plastic ties off. But each had a remaining functional hand, and in those hands they held stun rods, no doubt gained from a ship’s security locker.

  “Mongrel,” said Iwao, voice flattened by the mask.

  “Little … no,” ground Megumi. Her face was sweaty beneath the mask, as if she was carrying a great burden. “Grace. Run.” She shook, then spat, “Mongrel.”

  Grace stepped around the bridge consoles, acceleration couches set near bright holos. Telemetry data filled the displays. Destinations, time to arrival, fuel load, mass. Grace ignored it all, one hand on her sword’s scabbard, the other on the hilt. “What’s it gonna be, Dad?” Her eyes moved between Megumi and Iwao. “You want to try your luck against me? Been keeping up your kendo practice?”

  Megumi’s face twisted as she struggled against Kazuo’s influence, falling to one knee. While that was happening, Iwao stepped closer, so Grace focused on him. “Mongrel. I have these two. You will never hurt them. But I will burn their lives away in a moment to reclaim you.”

  Iwao made to move forward, but halted, jerked back by Megumi. Her too-Western eyes found Grace’s. “Freedom or death,” she said, her voice a rasp. Her hand found Iwao’s mask, tearing it free. Then she yanked her own mask off, taking a deep breath. “They are the same thing.”

  Iwao stumbled, hands finding his face as if surprised no visor met his fingers. “I will,” he started, then coughed a gout of blood. Megumi screamed once, before her voice choked out, blood falling like tears from her eyes.

  “No,” said Grace. There would have been another way. There had to have been another way. “No!” But Megumi had seen it clearer than Grace. There was no way out. Only one of them was immune to Kazuo’s touch. There was only one of them with that luck. A moment passed, and then the light inside Megumi was gone. All she’d been was dispersed, lost forever.

  Iwao’s face became his own, just for a moment. “Little … Grace,” he said, as flesh sloughed away from his arm. He fell forward to twitch on the deck, an expanding pool of fluids marking where a brave man had been alive seconds before.

  Grace kneeled on the deck next to their remains. In moments, the fluids became steam, the steam faded away, and nothing was left but some dust and two masks.

  • • •

  It took only moments to reset the nav controls, pointing the ship for the stars. Grace was about to key the Helm’s console to take them away when Aya spoke. “You always forget. Because you don’t have the gift, Mongrel, you never guard against those around you.”

  Grace turned, seeing Aya holding a stun rod. Grace stepped away from the console, holding her sword low and ready. But Kazuo and Grace knew she wouldn’t draw steel. Not against Aya.

  They circled each other, the holos of the bridge lighting their way. “Maybe it’s not because I don’t have the gift,” offered Grace. “Maybe it’s because I’m not a sicko.” Mickey’s way with words would stay with her for a long time, if she ever got out of here.

  Aya’s lips curled into her father’s smile. “Maybe it’s because you haven’t finished your lessons.” She lunged, stun rod whirling, blue-white light dancing at the tip. Grace dodged, swinging her scabbarded sword like a club, knocking the stun rod aside. She stepped back. “I only need to hit you once,” said Aya-as-Kazuo. “And you cannot hit me.” Another lunge, another swing of the paralyzing stun rod. Grace slipped under this one, stance low as she pivoted around Aya.

  “Yeah,” said Grace. She had an idea. “But you’ve got to hit me, Dad. It’s like you’re not even trying.”

  Aya-as-Kazuo roared, lunging again. Grace waited until the last moment, then brought the scabbarded sword around like a bokken. She rapped against Aya’s wrist, the stun rod falling free, and as her mother moved past her, she brought the scabbard around to knock hard against the back of Aya’s head.

  Be fast. Be ready. As Aya fell forward, Grace dropped the sword, catching her mother. Her mother felt light, like she was full of air, like she’d been living on nothing but hope for years. Grace checked the Harlegand’s destination. Time was running out.

  She put Aya into one of the acceleration couches, plastic-tying her wrists — and, with a quirk of her lips, her elbows — to it. Then she slipped into the Helm’s couch, tapping on the console. Grace cleared the starship’s destination.

  Where to? Grace hadn’t thought she’d make it this far. Freedom was an idea, not a place. She looked at Aya, and then where Megumi had fallen next to Iwao. Aya was from Ise, and there was no hope there. Iwao was from Osaka, where only death remained. Megumi had mentioned Ganymede to Grace, just once, like it was a place from a dream.

  So, why not dream? Grace entered co-ordinates for Ganymede into the Helm’s control. The starship’s attitude shifted, nose pointing towards the sky, already lightening to dawn’s glow. The drives behind them rumbled, and roared, and screamed, the hard hand of thrust pressing Grace into her acceleration couch.

  They punched into Earth’s orbital space, a thousand requests and warnings lighting the Comm holo. Grace ignored them, directing the starship away from the planet’s gravity well. The Harlegand’s drives burned bright and strong, the ship shaking as it remembered its power. They left Earth and its moon behind, scrabbling towards the stars spread like pearls across the heavens.

  It took time to climb free of gravitational forces that would allow a jump, but Grace enjoyed the trip. The road under her feet was new. There was a fresh wind that filled the sails of this starship. After a while, she heard a chime.

  CLEAR TO JUMP. Grace ran fingers over the Helm’s console, then okayed the Endless systems to spool up.

  The souls of her dead friends stood at her shoulders. Their joy was a thing made real. Behind, her father’s scream of rage echoed across all the stars and all the planets. Ahead, Ganymede waited, a promise. The pure thrill of acceleration, impossible, unbelievable acceleration. She couldn’t feel it. She was it. She was everything. She was the universe.

  Stars stretched, made points of light that streaked past the Harlegand’s bridge windows.

  They jumped.

  CHAPTER FIVE

>   GANYMEDE LOOKED BEAUTIFUL.

  Grace knew its beauty was a trap. There was no place for an assassin among pretty things. And if the Harlegand docked anywhere, the nanites inside would kill everyone alive. The comm warnings were out now, people on the lookout for a ship just like this one. No one would let them dock.

  That was okay. One problem at a time. False trails would confuse her father. Grace looked at her mother, still unconscious. Push your feelings down so far they can’t be seen. She keyed another destination into the Helm console, jumping the ship again.

  • • •

  Stars, but no planets or moons. They hung, a forgotten mote, eighty-five million klicks from the sun. Away from the sun, Venus. Towards Sol’s angry stare, Mercury.

  The Mercury Accords.

  The AI had been driven back at Mercury. Beaten, by a Guild of human Engineers. People said Mercury was a death world, an Osaka at a planetary scale, but people said all kinds of things when they lied.

  Grace unstrapped Aya, cutting the plastic ties. She carried her mother over her shoulder as she went aft. Right outside the bridge were escape pods for the crew. Grace laid Aya inside one, strapping her mother to the acceleration couch. She put one of Mickey’s secure communicators in a pocket on her mother’s pants. Then she sealed the escape pod, placing a hand on the cool metal door.