Free The Tabit Genesis by Tony Gonzales Page A

appeared no more the worse for wear. A burn that aggressive should have left him incapacitated … unless the Navy had given him the same genetic augments that kept Gryphon pilots alive for their own combat manoeuvres.
    Then it dawned on Wyllym all at once: Admiral Hedricks had insisted on seeing him in person to make the subtle point that neither he nor his Gryphons were that special any more. It was a threat, and Captain Ishiin was the messenger.
    ‘Ah, she’s in range,’ the captain said. ‘Let’s look upon her with our own eyes, shall we?’
    Shaking, Wyllym unbuckled his straps as segments of armoured plating retreated from the
Belgrade
’s
bridge, revealing viewports that offered an unaided view into space. Even from their distant vantage, the
Archangel
was breathtaking and foreboding all at once. Her construction resembled nothing else in the Navy, and for several ethereal moments Wyllym had difficulty believing he was looking at something built by humans.
    He had heard about her dimensions: a kilometre longer than the
Tabit Genesis
and nearly twice as wide. Captain Ishiin set the
Belgrade
on wide approach pattern, no doubt so he could admire the beast himself. Every metre of the
Archangel’s
hull was a reflective ebony sheen broken only by the glare of construction lamps and navigation beacons. From above, the hull resembled an elongated pentagon with two superstructures cutting through her beam like oversized keels. The front and rear of these structures housed recessed thruster nozzles wide enough to accommodate a cruiser. Her cross-section was hundreds of metres thick, lined with docking bays that could take a frigate aboard. Docking ports for corvettes lined her dorsal and ventral surface areas, with launch and recovery systems for the Gryphons built into the twin superstructures.
    But her most startling feature was the four vertical columns rising through the centre of the ship, extending all the way through the decks. If their endpoints were connected, they would form a perfect cube, at the centre of which was … nothing. A massive circular gap whose diameter matched the distance between the columns was cut into the main body of the ship. The towering walls lining this gap were buzzing with construction activity; arrays of instruments and machinery ringed the cross sections of unfinished deck levels, the only segment of the ship not doused in black.
    As the
Belgrade
closed range, Wyllym scoured the hull for signs of more traditional weapons, like turrets or missile bays. But all he saw was the reflection of engines and welding sparks against the onyx curves of this mysterious ship.
    ‘Magnificent, isn’t she?’ Captain Ishiin whispered.
    Wyllym snorted, motioning towards the four towers.
    ‘Is that the drain for this money sink?’
    ‘Rumour is that’s Raothri technology,’ Captain Ishiin said.
    ‘Civilians can spread rumours,’ Wyllym said. ‘Soldiers can be court-martialled for it.’
    Captain Ishiin smiled again as the
Belgrade
changed course.
    ‘The people who live there must know the truth,’ he said, pointing to the torus-shaped station adjoining the construction yard of the
Archangel
. Within it lived thousands of lowborn employees, all skilled labourers plucked from the general population. Many would spend their entire lives there, building this ship and nothing else, with little to no contact with the outside colony. The station was as finely equipped as any built in Orionis, even Luminosity. They lived more comfortably than most, and in many respects were like the generation that built the
Tabit Genesis
centuries ago.
    But to Wyllym, they were slaves in all but name.
    ‘I bet they don’t even care,’ he muttered.
    The captain’s expression changed to frustration as the
Belgrade
approached one of the open hangar bays.
    ‘Why do you hate the
Archangel
so much?’ he asked.
    ‘Because we could have built a dozen stations or terraformed a moon with what it cost to build this,’