Gray Reckoning: Thousand Eye Universe, #3

Gray Reckoning

Thousand Eye Universe: Book 3

N E Riggs

Brutal Planet Press

Copyright © 2024 by N E Riggs

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

NERiggs.com

Contents

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1.1

2.2

3.3

4.4

5.5

6.6

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7.7

8.8

9.9

10.10

11.11

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12.12

13.13

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14.14

15.15

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16.16

17.17

18.18

19.19

20.20

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Afterward

Book 4 Preview

Also by N E Riggs

Eye

Iloved Madrigan. I might have loved Xixiao. Vilstair killed them both, so I hate her.

It doesn’t matter that she didn’t kill them directly. She’s the reason they’re dead. She distracted Madrigan from his plan and captured him. She failed Xixiao and let him be killed.

For that, she deserves to suffer. I want her to have so many regrets that she dies from them.

But I want justice for Xixiao. Madrigan would want that, and so I want it too. Vilstair and Shinead are the only ones who want justice for Xixiao too. Or at least, they’re the only ones who want justice for Xixiao and are willing to do something about it.

I can’t have Vilstair suffer yet. I can’t have her die yet. She’s still useful. I need her.

This must be Yonaven’s doing. It’s the sort of thing she’d do: force me to watch the person I hate. Both Yonaven and Fate are cruel.

I’m right about this being Yonaven’s fault. She won’t admit to it, but when does she ever? Ever since Madrigan died, Yonaven hasn’t given me an order. No instructions about watching the senate on Capitania or lurking around the palace on Gratevon. That proves it. That proves that she wants me doing this.

Yonaven’s the only one I hate more than Vilstair. I’ve been stubborn, refusing my lessons and not trying during practice. She might have set this up just to motivate me. It’s the sort of thing she’d do.

She’s behind it, and I can’t do anything about it. Just as I can’t do anything about Vilstair.

I can only watch. I can see anything — except a few places close to lords — but what’s the point of watching if you can’t do anything about it? I have all the information in the galaxy and no application for any of it.

This frustration is part of my punishment. Fate decreed it, and Yonaven reinforces it.

So I’m doing what Yonaven wants by watching Vilstair, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

1

For the first time in her life, Vilstair didn’t appreciate being at home on Diresi.

There was nothing like the comforts of home. Not just knowing the sights without having to constantly check her jewel for directions. The sounds were normal: the honk of low-flying ships, the chatter that came from crowds of people, and a screen somewhere nearby that showed the news. Even the smells said home: a vendor on the street corner cooking kebabs, the incense coming from the Fate temple, and the clean air. All civilized worlds had quality pollution control, but Diresi surpassed Neutral worlds and minor Gray worlds. It was literally easier to breathe here.

Vilstair wanted to leave. She loved Diresi, but she wanted to be back on Nunaro. Lacking that, she’d accept a mission at one of the other Neutral worlds on the Light-gray border.

She couldn’t go there. All Gray operatives had been pulled from those worlds. Officially, at least. Dara says the undercover operatives are still there, Shinead said. And they haven’t closed the temples, so we still have priests on those worlds.

If they closed the Gray temples, they might as well turn Light, Vilstair said.

They sat on a bench in a park. It was two blocks from the command tower which dominated the capital’s skyline. The park stretched two blocks, with a playground for children, a field for games, and numerous picnic benches. In nicer weather, it teamed with people. It was winter now, and Vilstair saw only a handful of joggers and pet walkers on the path.

Those worlds aren’t going to switch to the Light. Shinead sighed and hunched her shoulders. I don’t think they will. They’ll lose most of their trade.

Vilstair grunted. And gain healing.

Damn them, Shinead said, but with no heat behind it.

They sat in silence for a time. A frigid breeze gusted through the park. Vilstair hunched over, tugging her coat tighter around her. Being half Parleni, she felt the cold more than a full mammal like Shinead. Being stuck on Diresi was bad enough. She couldn’t handle the thought of being inside.

A person approached. Vilstair heard the footsteps, crunching through the snow. On any other world, she would have tensed and looked. There were no threats on Diresi, so she ignored the person.

The person stood in front of the bench, and Vilstair finally looked up. It was Yafan, a furred hat tugged so low on his head that it made his long ears stick out of the bottom. You’re having fun, he said.

We’re off duty, Shinead said with a scowl.

If everyone hated being off duty as much as you two, the Gray would rule the entire galaxy. Yafan shook his head. We need to talk. Come on.

Vilstair stood. She rubbed her hands together and stomped her feet. In the short time she’d spent on the bench, she’d lost feeling in her extremities. You could have called.

What, and miss this beautiful weather? The asshole looked like he meant it. Yafan was Huckfering, with thick muscles and thicker fun on top of the muscles. He complained throughout the summer, though he refused to shave.

The three of them left the park and hiked toward the command tower. It was taller than any other building on Diresi. It housed the Gray high command, including the five Admirals and their aides. Strategists like Yafan worked there, along with many other divisions.

When they entered the atrium, Shinead took off her hat and loosened her jacket. Vilstair made no move to do likewise. She’d need minutes yet before she felt warm.

They queued to go through the scanner. It didn’t matter that all three of them were part of the Gray military or that Yafan worked here. Everyone who entered the command tower had to be checked. Diresi was safe, but they didn’t take chances.

The scanner beeped after Vilstair walked through, and her jewel pinged. She saw a record of her identification and credentials, along with a confirmation that she had her blaster with her. The robots barring her way moved aside, and she waited for Shinead and Yafan to join her.

Once they were all through, they took the lift up to the floor where Yafan worked. Many other people stepped into the lift, crowding it to capacity. In her many trips to the command tower, Vilstair had never taken a lift that wasn’t full. There were always thousands of beings who had business in the command tower.

They elbowed their way out of the lift and walked down a narrow hallway. Windows lined both sides, showing large rooms. Strategists filled the rooms, surrounded by consoles.

Yafan’s desk was near the center of one room. One day, I’ll be promoted and get a desk near the window, he’d said to Vilstair once.

And on that day, you’ll never get any work done, she said. Only beings who aren’t distracted by open skies get window desks, Yafan. He grumbled but didn’t deny it.

One chair sat at his desk, so Vilstair and Shinead had to stand. The Drilthin at the next desk glared at them, so Vilstair shifted closer to Yafan’s desk.

Right. Yafan tapped his jewel, which made images flicker past on his various consoles. This just came through an hour ago. It will be on the news soon, but I thought you’d like to see it. Another tap of his jewel caused one image to show on the consoles.

It was the Prophet. Vilstair stiffened and held her breath. The current Prophet was a female Gracknaren called Dovomil. Her head fur was white, matching the color of her robe. She ruled the Light, though she had a council and generals who helped and advised her. The thought of one person with that much power always terrified Vilstair. The five Admirals of the Gray shared power equally, or mostly equally.

There is healing in the Light, she said. She stood with her arms outstretched, on the balcony of her palace on Tarmestil. As far as Vilstair knew, she made most of her proclamations there. The image showed a few people clustered together behind her: probably some of the Prophet’s councilors or generals. Yafan would know. Healing is the gift from the Light gods, given freely to all their followers. Anyone who desires healing should come to a Light world. We will teach you and succor you and heal you. With humbleness, repentance, and devotion, any being can come to the Light.

Yafan grunted and tapped his jewel, stopping the image. The Prophet froze with her mouth open. It seems that the rest of the Light won’t act like your friend Xixiao. They’re going to keep healing for themselves.

Vilstair tugged off her hat since she finally felt warm enough. It helped that the room was cramped so full of people. Are you sure? They said they’d heal everyone. She wanted to think well of the Light. After Xixiao, she could never again hate the Light.

Oh, it sounds good. It has to sound good. But she said teach and succor before she said anything about healing. Yafan shook his head. She wants more people and more worlds to convert to the Light. That’s her job.

If the Light heals anyone, why should a person be Light path? Shinead said softly. Oh, there will be some who remain devoted. There’s always someone who believes. But most of the normal people? They stay mainly because of the healing. The Light can’t lose that.

Vilstair gripped her hat. She had expected that. Even after everything that happened on Nunaro, she hadn’t thought the Light would change. Perhaps a few operatives might go rogue like Xixiao had, but the Light itself would not change. They claimed to be generous, but not to everyone. Their kindness had a limit.

Xixiao’s hadn’t.

So what does this mean? she said.

Yafan shook his head. There will be many people heading to Light worlds. Mostly Neutrals, but some Gray paths might be tempted too. Especially those who live on Neutral worlds and those with serious illnesses. Our doctors can cure much, but not everything. And not instantly, the way a Light priest can. He glanced at Vilstair and Shinead at that.

It’s as thorough as the legends say it is, Shinead said. I was on fire everywhere when Xixiao healed me. A second later, I didn’t have a burn on me. This will draw lots of people to the Light.

And just as many people will be angry. Yafan tapped his jewel. The image of the Prophet remained on one console, but the other changed.

It showed a Neutral university. A group of students and professors paraded around, waving placards and shouting chants. Healing for everyone! they said.

We know that the Light can heal Neutrals and Grays, Yafan said, silencing the recording. Until a few days ago, we didn’t know that. They say they’ll heal anyone, but it’s clear they actually mean that they’ll allow anyone to convert to the Light. Soon, the rest of the galaxy will realize that. That’s when everything’s going to go to the hells.

Vilstair fiddled with her hat. Will it turn into a war?

Yafan shrugged. That’s not up to us. The Neutrals will be more upset about this than we are. We have an alliance with them, but if they become that angry with the Light… He looked from Vilstair to Shinead. It would bother you, wouldn’t it? If we went to war with the Light?

Vilstair wished there weren’t so many other people around. She wasn’t ashamed of how she felt. If anyone thought she should be, that only made her feelings stronger. Yafan might understand. The other, nearby strategists? She didn’t know or trust them.

The Gray has always tried to avoid wars with the Light, Shinead said, her jaw jutted forward. The Light usually tries the same. Mostly, we’ve been successful. Did our two separate wars with the Dark suddenly become not enough? You think it’s better if more people kill each other? By the end, she was biting off her words.

I didn’t say any of that! Yafan held up his paws. I don’t want a war with the Light! Neither does the Gray! I said the Neutral might want it, and we might get dragged into it!

Vilstair glanced around. Some of the strategists nearby glared at them for being too loud, while three others listened closely. It wasn’t a crime to say they didn’t want a war with the Light. Thus far, no one had criticized Vilstair or Shinead for being fond of Xixiao. Perhaps a civilian might, or a follower of Chaos or Death — Vilstair hated those people. She had never met one — rather, she had never met anyone who admitted to worshiping one of those two Gray gods — and she didn’t want to. A person who worshiped one of those two gods might as well be Dark path.

No normal, sensible Gray path would scold her for liking Xixiao, or for trying to protect him. The Light and the Gray didn’t get along, but they weren’t enemies.

Not long ago, Vilstair might have thought of the Light that way. She couldn’t think like that anymore.

So why are we here? she asked Yafan, mostly to keep him and Shinead from yelling at one another. "What should we do? What can we do?"

Yafan sighed. We have no orders yet. It’s too new. The Admirals are still discussing recent events. At a guess, I would say that no orders will come until the rest of the galaxy realizes that the Light doesn’t intend to share its healing. We have some time until then. The Admirals are using that time to make contingency plans and to get our military and operatives ready.

It seemed eminently sensible. This wasn’t some minor operation, that only affected a world or three. This would be felt across the entire galaxy. The Admirals had to be careful. The time could perhaps also be used to warn the Neutral, to let them know that the Light wouldn’t begin healing them. If the Neutral realized that, maybe the fallout wouldn’t be so bad.

It was sensible, but Vilstair hated it. It meant sitting and waiting. She wanted to do something. She wasn’t good at waiting for someone else to make the first move.

What about the people who killed Xixiao? Shinead said. What have we learned about them?

Yafan tapped his jewel. Three images appeared on one of his consoles: a male Human, a female Drilthin, and a male Chaukee. These are the three that we’ve been questioning. The others that were taken prisoner, we left on Nunaro. The Governor insisted. He won’t learn as much by questioning, but it’s politics. Yafan shook his head, his upper lip curled up to show his long canines. Anyway, the saireishi corps has been busy with this lot. We’ve learned their entire life histories by now.

And? Vilstair asked, leaning closer.

They’re all Neutrals — we checked their registrations and their minds, so it’s genuine. They were hired by someone else for the hit. Xixiao was the main target, but they wanted to kill the two of you if they could. These three never met the person who paid for the hit. They never even saw that being.

Vilstair said, Who did?

The leader of their gang was killed during the attack. Yafan hit a button, and a fourth person appeared.

Vilstair recognized the male Huckfering. He was the one who had killed Xixiao. He had been killed in turn by Shinead.

Shinead threw up her hands. What, only one person dealt with the customer? What kind of shitty business model is that? Vilstair put a hand on her arm, but Shinead’s glare didn’t lower in intensity.

Yafan shook his head. For some gangs, the leader makes sure to keep the others out of negotiations. If they have no direct contact with the customers, it means they can’t break off and start their own business. It’s inefficient, I agree, but it can be useful. Before you ask, we don’t have his jewel. The police on Nunaro have it. We asked, but they won’t copy it for us.

Fucking useless. Shinead scowled at Yafan, which wasn’t fair. None of this was his fault.

Yafan’s long nose scrunched up, which made his whiskers twitch all over. We don’t need the leader, and we don’t need his jewel. He was right to keep information from his gang, because they were a curious lot. This one— he pointed to the Drilthin female —knows that the person who ordered the hit lives on Ushlervan.

Vilstair sucked in a breath. She tapped her jewel. The planet’s name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Information appeared before her eyes.

Ushlervan was a Neutral world. It was close to the disputed zone that lay between Gray and Dark territory — much closer to that area than Vilstair liked. A minor world, it had only one population center. And no wonder. It wasn’t habitable: temperatures that reached one hundred degrees centigrade, no atmosphere, six times standard gravity, and a day that lasted three standard years even though the year was only twice the standard year.

Why anyone would live there was a mystery. She tapped her jewel again, and groaned. No, that would explain it.

A colony of kireishi lived on Ushlervan.

Kireishi are all insane, Shinead said. She had tapped her jewel, too.

Yafan said, I agree, but it does make some things simpler. Only a few hundred people live on Ushlervan, and no one visits. It should be easy to find the person who ordered the hit.

Vilstair leaned closer. Do we have a mission to go there?

We have to, Shinead said.

Yafan shook his head. We haven’t had any orders from the Admirals.

You don’t normally have to wait for orders from the Admirals, Shinead said.

Strategists like Yafan worked together to develop Gray strategy. Most missions were largely independent. So long as the mission fell under current Gray policy, a strategist didn’t have to get permission from the Admirals or their aides before sending out a team.

This wouldn’t be like most missions. Yafan crossed his arms over his chest. "If you go to Ushlervan, everyone in the Gray would know why. The Admirals haven’t yet given an order about what should be done about the gang or their customer. In the end, you two survived. So did the entire crew from the Rokastra. We have no jurisdiction in this, no reason to seek reprisal. The Light does. The last thing we need is another incident."

Fuck the Light! Shinead’s words echoed above the buzz of conversation that filled the room. Many heads turned their way. Shinead scowled. She lowered her voice, but not to a whisper. We were attacked. We were targets. So what if we were secondary targets? That’s good enough. We can go to Ushlervan!

Not like this! Not on an official mission!

Then fuck you! Shinead made a rude gesture, pressing her thumb and pinky finger together. What’s the use of you, if you stop us from doing the main thing that has to be done?

Vilstair grabbed Shinead’s arm. Unlike last time, she held on tight, so that Shinead couldn’t ignore her. You called us here for a reason, she said to Yafan. It wasn’t just to tell us all of this. You have a plan. Yafan always had a plan. That was why he was a strategist.

For a moment, Yafan glared back at Shinead. He waited until most of the others in the room turned back to their own work. Then he tapped his jewel. A fifth image appeared, on a different console. This is Lieutenant Ranakur Mulnep, of the saireishi corps.

Vilstair stared at the man. He was Gracknaren, all excess height and long limbs and four eyes. His face was thin even for a Gracknaren, indicative of his age. He couldn’t be older than twenty-five, her age. "Lieutenant? How in the hells did he make Lieutenant