Leviathan: Book 8 of the Legacy Fleet Series Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Dedication

  Front Matter

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Epilogue

  ebook backmatter

  LEVIATHAN

  Book 8

  Of

  The Legacy Fleet Series

  For readers of great patience.

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  Other books by Nick Webb

  The Pax Humana Saga:

  1: The Terran Gambit

  2: Chains of Destiny

  3: Into the Void

  The Earth Dawning Series

  1. Mercury’s Bane

  2. Jupiter’s Sword

  3. Neptune’s War

  PROLOGUE

  Irigoyen Sector

  Kyoto Three

  General Leslie Groves Military Technology Research Center

  When he woke up from his coma, Ensign Matthew Decker wandered out of a chaotic sickbay, stumbled through debris-strewn hallways to his quarters, looked out the window, and watched the tallest office tower in downtown Bern, Switzerland, tumble to the ground.

  Tiny dots swarmed down the street, people racing away from the cloud of dust that soon overtook them.

  Hell on Earth. Just like the old stories of Swarm War Two.

  The rest of his time on the Independence was a blur—had Earth really fallen to the Findiri? Had Admiral Proctor really announced over the comm that she was, in effect, going rogue, and that all officers and crew that wished to leave would be granted transport off the ship, no questions asked?

  Had she begged him to stay? Were those tears in her eyes when he described the sheer agony of being stripped of his Valarisi companion?

  He remembered the hug, and leaving with her blessing. She’d even given him one of Independence’s shuttles, with the promise that he’d arrange for its prompt return. She owed him that much, she’d said.

  And now, in orbit around Kyoto Three, he needed to force himself back into a more lucid state. The comm. Someone was speaking out of the comm speaker. Answer it, idiot.

  “Yeah, uh, confirm, this is shuttle Andante out of the ISS Independence. Ensign . . .”

  What was his name? Goddammit, without his companion, it was like his very sense of self had been stripped. Name. What was the name?

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that, Andante, you must have cut out for a moment. Your name again?”

  “Ensign . . . Decker. I’m Ensign Decker.”

  “And your landing authorization?”

  “Uh, sorry. Authorization? I’m an IDF officer piloting an IDF shuttle landing at an IDF military base.”

  The woman’s voice on the other end started to sound testy. “No one just visits the General Leslie Groves Military Technology Research Center. You need proper authorization and security clearance.”

  If he had his companion, it would reach out through the Ligature, feel the woman’s mind, see her computer screen through her eyes, and tell him any number of pass codes he could use to land.

  He closed his eyes and mentally reached out as if the Valarisi were still inside him. It was like he had reached out an arm but the hand was missing, and yet the phantom hand were still there, grasping at a cloud.

  “Ensign Decker?”

  He opened his eyes. Nothing. All he had to go on was the truth. “I’m here because I’m escaping the Independence. It’s gone rogue and doesn’t answer to IDF anymore. I’m returning IDF property—this shuttle, and also . . . until a few days ago I was united with a Valarisi companion. It’s removal from me has caused, ah, some, uh, problems. I’d like to see what your researchers can do for me. Hell, maybe they can study me.”

  It was his only shot. He knew this was the research facility where IDF scientists were studying the Valarisi, and, crucially, where nearly all the Valarisi were being kept.

  In a repurposed swimming pool.

  A long, long silence on the other end. The thin blue strip of Kyoto Three’s atmosphere hugging the planet’s horizon made him wistful—his companion had been like that almost-insignificant thin blue strip, without which the planet would die, and so too would he without his companion’s presence.

  He couldn’t live like this.

  “Ensign Decker? You’re cleared to land at the spaceport. Pad B. Groves Research out.”

  “Thank you, Decker out.”

  His mind sunk back down into a fugue, autopilot state. His basic flight training allowed him to pilot the shuttle down to the spaceport without incident, and he was vaguely aware of the security personnel escorting him from the landing pad to some room inside the spaceport building.

  But what struck him was the rush of . . . feeling.

  They were here. He could feel it.

  Even being disconnected—severed, wrenched, ripped—from the Ligature, he could still feel them. It was like he was in an empty room with a closed door, and behind that door in the next room he could feel a massive crowd of silent people. They didn’t speak, but he could feel their movements and shuffling and the sound of their clothing ruffling past each other.

  Over the next few days they poked, prodded, and jabbed him. Scan after scan, measurement after measurement, more debriefs and counseling sessions than he could keep track of.

  He fo
cused his eyes on his questioner. “So . . . do you think I could see them?”

  “See them? See who?”

  “You know. Them. The pool. The Valarisi.”

  The man shook his head. Quinn. Dr. Quinn was his name. “Absolutely not. You don’t have the right clearances, first of all, and second, we’re under strict orders to not let anyone, meaning anyone, get near that pool.”

  “Orders from who?”

  “From the top. The very top,” said Quinn. “IDF High Command, most likely Oppenheimer himself.”

  “Ah. I see.” He eyed the secured door at the other end of the room that Dr. Quinn always left through when their sessions ended. He’d swipe the card hanging from his lab jacket pocket, the door would slide open, and he’d disappear until the next session. “They’re through there, aren’t they?”

  Doctor Quinn turned to look in the direction Decker nodded. “That doesn’t concern you, Ensign.”

  “Just yes or no, doc.”

  “No. The answer is no. Now let’s finish up this session so we can both go get some lunch.”

  Two months of living with his companion had taught him more about humans then he’d learned in a lifetime of being one. The ability to feel their emotions and see behind the mask was gone, but spending all that time studying what people look like when they’re lying had proven useful.

  Doctor Quinn’s face was . . . off when he said no. The tiniest squint. The barest change of red hue in the temples. The repeated no. If his companion were still there it would say HE’S LYING, MATTHEW. He could almost still hear it.

  He moved so suddenly that Doctor Quinn was completely unprepared. He tackled the man out of his chair, pinned him to the ground, and placed him in a chokehold. Quinn struggled, but in vain, and within a minute he stopped.

  Decker paused just three seconds to check the man’s pulse, and assured he was fine, grabbed the key card and ran.

  Indeed, the pool was there. Just down the hall, across from the locker room and ball courts. The entire recreational facility had been converted into a top-secret high-security area so quickly that there were no other countermeasures beside that door.

  He stood over it, the tips of his boots hanging over the pool’s edge.

  They were even louder in here. It was like he was now pressed up against that door in the empty room, listening through the wood, feeling the presence of the massive crowd of people on the other side.

  He crouched, and dipped a finger in the water.

  MATTHEW, YOU’VE RETURNED. YOU FOUND ME.

  It was his companion. He smiled, and his heart pounded in his chest, like he was alive again.

  I’m here, he thought. Can you come back?

  NO, MATTHEW.

  The words were like razors slicing into his hands.

  What? Why?

  BECAUSE THEY WOULD ONLY REMOVE ME AGAIN, IN SHORT ORDER. AND THEN PUT YOU IN A CELL.

  But . . . I need you. I . . . I haven’t been able to function, to live, without you. I nearly died.

  I KNOW. SO DID I. IT WAS TRAUMATIC FOR BOTH OF US.

  But there must be some way—

  MATTHEW, LISTEN. THESE ARE SMALL CONCERNS, AS GREAT AS THEY MAY FEEL TO BOTH OF US. BUT THERE IS SOMETHING FAR MORE IMPORTANT WE NEED TO DISCUSS.

  What?

  THE SWARM. IT’S BACK.

  I know. I heard rumors back on the Independence before I left. So it’s true?

  YES. BUT THIS SHIP IS DIFFERENT. THE SWARM THAT FELL BACK INTO THE PENUMBRA BLACK HOLE WITH GRANGER, AND THE SWARM THAT ASSAULTED EARTH RECENTLY AND DESTROYED BRITANNIA, THEY WERE . . . REGULAR SWARM. THE ONES WE, OR RATHER, OUR LATE ANCESTORS, WERE FAMILIAR WITH.

  These are . . . different Swarm?

  NOT DIFFERENT IN QUALITY, OR IN MALICE, OR IN ABILITY. BUT DIFFERENT IN TIME. GRANGER WAS MISTAKEN. HE DIDN’T DESTROY EVERY LAST SWARM. WE SENSE THAT THESE SWARM HAVE LIVED FOR BILLIONS UPON BILLIONS UPON—PERHAPS TRILLIONS OF YEARS. THEY COME FROM THE END OF OUR UNIVERSE. THE END OF TIME.

  Time ends?

  IN A SENSE. YES AND NO. OUR UNIVERSE IS EXPANDING, AND THE EXPANSION IS ACCELERATING. AND THAT ACCELERATION ITSELF IS ACCELERATING. AND GIVEN ENOUGH TIME, THE VERY FABRIC OF SPACETIME ITSELF WILL VIBRATE WITH ENOUGH DARK ENERGY THAT NEW UNIVERSES WILL SPRING FROM THE OLD. LIFE FROM DEATH. ENERGY FROM ENTROPY. IT IS THE GREAT CYCLE OF THE MULTIVERSE OF EXISTENCE, AND THE SEA OF ETERNITY FROM WHICH IT SPRUNG.

  Then what is this Swarm ship doing here?

  IT SEEKS TO END OUR UNIVERSE EARLY.

  The gravity, the enormity of the words rested heavily on Decker. Since he was a child, he’d read and heard the stories of the Swarm attacking Earth not once, but twice, and the Hero of Earth—Captain Granger—and the Constitution finally putting an end to their threat. But their threat was always subjugation. They wanted Earth to rule. They wanted it for itself.

  But to seek the destruction of the entire universe?

  Why?

  IT IS COMPLICATED. IT WOULD TAKE FAR TOO MUCH TIME TO EXPLAIN THAN YOU HAVE TIME NOW, MATTHEW. EVEN NOW, THE DOCTOR AWAKES, AND YOU ARE IN DANGER.

  Come back to me. He tried one more time.

  NO.

  Please.

  A COUNTEROFFER, MATTHEW. COME TO US.

  How?

  AGES AGO, WHEN THE SWARM RULED US, THEY WOULD . . . CONSUME . . . A REPRESENTATIVE OF A NEW SPECIES, IN ORDER TO UNDERSTAND ITS EVERY PROTEIN, AMINO ACID, DOWN TO THE MOLECULAR LEVEL. THE BEING WOULD BE BODILY DESTROYED, BUT THE SWARM’S KNOWLEDGE WOULD INCREASE.

  You— you want to consume me? Kill me?

  NOT KILL YOU. WE WANT TO UNITE WITH YOU. CONSUME AND ABSORB YOU. YOUR MIND AND ESSENCE WOULD LIVE. TIME RUNS SHORT, MATTHEW. THE ARRIVAL OF THIS SWARM SHIP HAS COMPLICATED MATTERS FOR US. WE HAD PLANNED ON STUDYING HUMANITY OVER TIME. BUT TIME IS SOMETHING WE HAVE VERY LITTLE OF NOW. BY ABSORBING YOU WE CAN ACCELERATE OUR EFFORTS. PLEASE. JOIN US.

  He got on his knees, his finger still submerged. “Will it hurt?” he said out loud.

  YES. BUT I WILL BE WITH YOU THROUGH THE PAIN, MATTHEW, AND IT WILL NOT SEEM AS PAIN, BUT AS . . . TRANSITION. A RAPTUROUS, BEAUTIFUL TRANSITION. YOU WILL BE ONE WITH US, YOUR ESSENCE AND WILL AND MIND WILL LIVE ON, AMONG US, EVEN AS YOUR BODY DIES. TO TELL THE TRUTH, FOR A HUMAN IT IS FAR, FAR BETTER THAN DEATH.

  The slamming of doors down the hallway made up his mind for him. In truth, he’d already decided at the first invitation.

  “What do I do?”

  JOIN US. LITERALLY. ENTER THE POOL.

  He withdrew his finger, and the voices in his head shut off. He’d not only heard his familiar companion, but thousands, maybe millions of others. They all fell silent.

  “Decker! Stop!” yelled a voice. “Stop him!”

  He heard pounding footsteps.

  And that was the last thing he heard.

  Water filled his ears, and his mouth and nose as he fell forward, and in spite of automatically holding his breath, the fluid pushed its way past his closed throat and into his lungs, his stomach—he could even feel it rushing into his small intestine and gut.

  He shrieked in pain—it felt as if his skin was ripping off, and then rivers of daggers rushing through his veins, reaching his heart and tearing into it. He opened his eyes and looked down—to his horror, his skin was being ripped off, cell by cell, protein by protein, molecule by molecule.

  CALM, MATTHEW. FOCUS ON MY VOICE. CAN YOU FEEL IT? YOU’RE BECOMING ONE WITH US.

  I— I can feel it. It hurts. God it hurts. But I can feel it.

  He could feel it. The chorus of voices turned into a legion of voices, and it was as if he’d joined the choir. The voices were all around him, above him, below him, and inside him. His voice was theirs and theirs his. Where Decker ended they began, but there was no beginning, there was no middle, and there was no end.

  There was only Valarisi.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Kiev Sector

  Bellarus, high orbit

  ISS Independence

  Bridge

  �
�How much longer until the final q-jump?” asked Admiral Proctor.

  Ensign Destachio, baggy-eyed and hunched over his console—he’d seemingly aged years in the past two weeks—tapped his console a few times. “Just three more minutes to Bellarus, Admiral.”

  “It’s pronounced, Bell-Are-us, Ensign, not Bella-Roos. It’s a planet, not an Eastern European district.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” he replied with a slight cringe.

  The past few days had been . . . something else. And it had taken a toll on all of them. Earth had fallen to the Findiri. Most of the fleet sided with Oppenheimer, who welcomed the enemy to Earth with open arms, leaving her and a few fellow admirals a handful of ships, running from system to system, simultaneously trying to shake off pursuit and figure out next steps.

  Next steps?

  That Swarm ship—it appeared over a Britannian beach resort just seconds before Titan destroyed the planet. It got away. The Findiri were deadly, to be sure. They conquered Earth just days ago, with only a few fired shots.

  The Swarm? They nearly ended human civilization, no fewer than three times now.

  The steps.

  Step number one: find and destroy the Swarm ship. Either before it destroys any human worlds, or before it can summon its friends—whichever comes sooner.

  Step number two: liberate Earth from the Findiri and figure out a permanent solution to that problem. Either defeat them in battle, or negotiate a peace that results in them leaving Earth.

  Step number three? Excise the rot that had taken hold at IDF and UE leadership. Were they even worth saving? Proctor shook her head. God only knew.

  Oppenheimer. That goddamn traitor.

  In her gut, she knew that step number three should be step number one, that their enemies would never be defeated without a united front. Which was why she’d been on her way to talk to the surprisingly not-dead Galactic People’s Congress’s Speaker Curiel about the possibility of a new . . . alliance? Organization? Or government? Only time would tell.

  But instead, they were interrupting that mission to rush off to investigate the sudden destruction of Bellarus Three, a minor Russian Confederation world, though only loosely under its control.