Orbus: A Spatterjay Novel by Asher Neal

Author:Asher, Neal [Asher, Neal]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Orbus
ISBN: 9780230737051
Publisher: Night Shade Books[Start]
Published: 2013-11-08T00:00:00+00:00

*

The dreadnought is down intact,’ Gurnard observes.

In the forward screen the image of the dreadnought, resting at the end of a long scar running across a planetary plain, now fades away, and that other enormous vessel once again comes into focus. Drooble gazes in awe as it extrudes a great chunk of itself, which then begins to descend towards the planetoid. First the dreadnought attacking, the captain and Sniper heading over, and now this? It is all just too much for him, lying as it does outside the simple routine of annoying his Captain, being punished, recovering, then doing the whole thing again.

‘A lot of it appears to be of Prador manufacture,’ remarks Gurnard, ‘but I daren’t scan to find out for sure.’

‘Daren’t?’ Drooble echoes. He still feels slightly unwell. The damage done to his body by the Prador rail-gun in Montmartre has healed, but his body mass is down by 20 per cent, whilst the viral mass is up at its previous levels. There is a definite imbalance between the two, which effects the way his mind works. Those around him seem slightly crazy…though on some level he recognizes that he is the slightly crazy one, while those around him have changed not at all.

‘I am just collecting sensor informaton, passively–not using any form of active scan,’ Gurnard replies. ‘But just that reveals layers of sensor and scanner complexity on the unknown ship’s surface–almost certainly whatever is inside will know at once if I start scanning. It probably knows we’re out here anyway. It seems improbable to me that, just by chance, it chose to attack shortly after we were driven away.’

‘Just scan it anyway,’ Drooble says abruptly. ‘Let’s see what we’re up against.’

Poised just to one side of him, with its tail resting down on his horseshoe console, the drone Thirteen revolves to inspect him.

‘Maybe we shouldn’t too readily antagonize a ship that’s ten miles across and can deploy U-space missiles,’ Thirteen suggests. ‘It’s got enough firepower and accuracy of firepower to disable a Prador dreadnought. If it wants rid of us, it can be rid of us in less time than it would take you to say “Oh shit”, Drooble.’

‘The Captain gave me the bridge,’ Drooble complains.

‘That holds no weight here,’ Gurnard says. ‘Orbus was appointed by Cymbeline, but he cannot appoint his own replacement. I am in charge.’

Drooble feels a degree of resentment about that–but also relief. ‘What do we do, then?’

‘I am in communication with Earth Central,’ Gurnard replies. ‘It appears that no ship like this has been seen entering the Graveyard over the last seven hundred years. It seems to be of Prador manufacture, and in attacking Vrell is likely to be doing the King’s bidding. Perhaps it is sufficiently advanced to have avoided detection while entering the Graveyard, in which case the entire population of the Polity certainly has something to worry about. We have been told therefore to watch and gather information, without putting ourselves at too much risk.’

‘What about my Captain?’

‘Your

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