Gray Paradox: Thousand Eye Universe, #4

By N E Riggs

In the fourth book of the Thousand Eye Universe series, war has broken out between the Light and the Gray. It is a meaningless war, and it gets worse by the day.

 

Vilstair would like nothing better than to stop the war, but no one will listen to a normal cop. She fears for those she loves. Her lover Ranakur suggests a dangerous mission: to go to the center of galactic power and try and speak with the Light directly. He believes he can convince the Light to stop the war, if only someone important will listen to him. Vilstair doubts he can succeed, but she will protect him no matter what.

 

Lancis is a lieutenant on a Gray warship. Her ship is attacked by the Light and the captain is murdered. Lancis is summoned to the galactic center to report on the incident. Once there, she also gets caught up into Ranakur's scheme. And she wanders to a deserted part of the capital, where she will find someone that should not be there.

 

Someone unseen has watched for a long time – someone who will not remain hidden for much longer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: N E Riggs
• Release date: Apr 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224826391

Book preview

Gray Paradox

Thousand Eye Universe: Book 4

N E Riggs

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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

Eye

1.1

2.2

3.3

4.4

5.5

6.6

Eye

7.7

8.8

9.9

10.10

11.11

Eye

12.12

13.13

14.14

15.15

Eye

16.16

17.17

18.18

Eye

19.19

20.20

21.21

22.22

23.23

24.24

Eye

Afterward

Book 5 Preview

Also by N E Riggs

Eye

Ican’t decide whether I like war or not. This war hasn’t been going on long enough or been fierce enough for me to decide.

On the one hand, it’s a stupid war. The Gray and the Neutral have no real reason to fight the Light. Nothing has changed, only people’s perceptions. The Light is still full of stuck-up assholes who only heal themselves. The Gray is still full of self-righteous bastards who love to argue. The Neutral is still full of indecisive cowards who can’t do anything for themselves.

I’d slam the Dark — and there’s plenty to slam them for — but at least they’re honest. Also, they’re loving this war because it gives them a chance to consolidate power.

On the other hand, this war will kill many Lights and Grays and probably some Neutrals. The galaxy has too many people, stupid people especially. A good purge will remove the most useless.

I don’t care about those who are going to die. Death comes for us all in the end. They had better lives than me — everyone’s had a better life than me.

Madrigan wouldn’t like this war. Despite what he did in the end, he tried to avoid pointless loss of life. He was a better person than me.

Xixiao did everything he could to prevent this war. He was a far better person than me. He was a better person than anyone.

In the end, it doesn’t matter whether I like the war or not. I can’t do anything to stop it or to fuel it. I remain an observer, watching from afar.

I’ve been watching normal lives, but it isn’t enough. When I return to myself, second-hand love leaves me bitter. I thought I could drown in normal people, but I can’t. Yonaven makes sure of that.

Since all I can do is watch, and since love hurts, I might as well watch something interesting.

1

Vilstair flapped her webbed feet, launching herself through the shallow waters. Her eyes were open, even though she was under water. As half-Parleni, her eyes were adapted for the water.

Her body shot forward, far faster than a Human could swim. She could see her target, motionless and oblivious. The long legs moved slowly through the water. Vilstair wound around a person. When she was almost on top of her prey, she leapt out of the water, tackling him into the sand.

No fair! Ranakur flailed when she wrapped her arms around him. You know I get distracted around other people! His arms wound around her in turn, finding the skin at the edge of her bikini.

An excuse. You could never escape me in the ocean. Vilstair kicked off the ground, and they drifted off. The waves held them aloft, bobbing them along the surface.

A high pitched shriek came from their feet as a Chaukee child nearly tripped over them in his eagerness to get further out. This was the only beach near the capital, and it was always busy during summer. If they had more time, they could have found a quieter beach. But they had limited time, and Vilstair wanted to get Ranakur in the water.

When I get a few days off, we’ll go to Maldoves, Ranakur said, catching her thoughts. There’s never anyone there. Too rocky. Rocks aren’t a problem for you. We’d have the beach to ourselves. We could do all sorts of things. His long hand left her side to travel down.

Vilstair wiggled away and stood. The water came up to her chest. You have a filthy mind. Do you spy on other people for inspiration?

Would you object if I did?

So long as you make notes of the fun stuff and let us try it later, no. She splashed his face.

He spluttered and tried to splash her back, but Vilstair ducked below the water. She loved it when she took him by surprise. It happened less often these days. In the early days of their relationship, her non-standard biology made it hard for him to read her mind. Now they were used to one another. Ranakur slid inside her mind easily and often.

In the ocean, surrounded by thousands of other people, she could surprise him. It was another good reason to visit this beach.

They continued a splashing war for a few minutes, then walked out of the water. Their towels waited far back up the beach, near a rocky outcrop. Ranakur brought a cooler too, with sandwiches and fresh vegetables. They ate in silence, watching the sun reflect off the blue, laughing when a group of kids brought out a huge, inflatable toy.

Your next mission hasn’t been assigned yet. Ranakur never had to ask about her schedule. He always knew, sometimes before she did. That part wasn’t sairei — he probably asked Yafan or one of the other strategists.

Not yet, but we’ll have one soon. Vilstair and Shinead had been off for ten days. They needed the long break, after their last mission. Still, they would have another mission soon. With the Gray fighting two different wars, no operative could relax for long.

Vilstair shook her head. She didn’t want to think about the wars, not on a beautiful day like this. Come on, I want to swim some more. She grabbed Ranakur’s hand and dragged him back to the ocean.

He wasn’t a strong swimmer — he wasn’t great at most physical activities, since he’d spent his life at a desk. With her nearby, he ventured further out, knowing that she would keep him safe. The water here was safe, the current low and steady, with plenty of lifeguards on the beach and boats further out.

They spent hours on the beach. They might have stayed out longer, but Ranakur needed the lavatory and Vilstair’s stomach rumbled. Laughing and poking one another, they left the sea, grabbed their towels and the cooler, and headed for a restaurant. Plenty of great ones dotted the area. Ranakur went to the lavatory while Vilstair ordered for them both.

Conversation soon turned to work, as it always did. Have you heard about all the problems on Nunaro? Ranakur said.

Vilstair flinched and skewered her plate instead of her food. I don’t care about what’s happening on Nunaro. She never wanted to return to that world.

Are you sure? It involves the Light temple.

Ranakur wouldn’t offer information if she truly didn’t want to hear it. Vilstair did worry about Nunaro, including the Light temple. She shouldn’t worry about Light priests - they had better protection than she could offer, and anyway they were enemies now. But the priests at that temple had been Xixiao’s friends, and so they were her friends too.

Whatever problems they’re having, there’s nothing I can do about it. So I don’t want to hear about it, she said firmly.

Ranakur inclined his head. "As you wish. Did you hear about the new warship they’re building? It’s going to be the best in the fleet — I’ve heard the engineers talk about all the fun toys that are going to be on the Xeneria’s Judgment."

The Xeneria’s Judgment — named for a famous Admiral from hundreds of years ago. Vilstair had followed that news. It was a gorgeous ship, but she’d never get to board it. She was an operative. She spent little time aboard Gray warships.

It’ll be years before it’s finished.

Four or five at least, but that isn’t that long. I bet I could get us up to the shipyard. We could see it being built. Ranakur loved watching construction of ships. Vilstair didn’t understand the lure, but she liked to indulge him. When he explained all the nuts and bolts, his face lit up.

When I return from my next mission and have some time, we’ll go. She doubted she had more than two or three days before her next mission. That wasn’t enough time for them to visit the Xeneria’s Judgment. Since Ranakur took today off, he wouldn’t get another day for a week. The Gray kept its saireishi busy. Promise.

Ranakur reached across the table and took her hand. You don’t need to say that. I know you always keep your promises. His four eyes looked into her and through her.

I know. But I like to say it. She squeezed his hand. It was a good thing they were mostly finished with their meal. Vilstair always wanted some privacy when Ranakur looked at her like that.

They paid, gathered up their things, and walked to the bus. Vilstair rarely took her ship when on Diresi. She had free parking in a garage on the east side of the city, connected to her apartment. Anywhere else, including this beach, she’d have to pay through the nose. Since the sun was setting, many other people boarded the bus. Vilstair and Ranakur stood, pressed close to one another.

They got off a block from Vilstair’s apartment. Night had fallen by the time they reached the door. Vilstair tapped her jewel as they took the lift up. Shinead didn’t answer, which meant she was still out having fun. Every night on Diresi when they weren’t needed elsewhere, Shinead had fun. Her activities didn’t appeal to Vilstair, but Shinead didn’t care. Though Shinead’s apartment was two floors down, she spent almost as much time in Vilstair’s. Because Vilstair had better snacks, she said. Vilstair always smiled and nodded and didn’t pester her about it.

She’s having fun, Ranakur said. Let her.

I’m not judging. Sometimes, Vilstair wished she had visited wild parties. She had never been invited — she was too odd looking, too much a loner. Maybe if she had asked, she could have scored an invite, but she never had.

Well, she had no interest in excessive booze, music, and sex. A night in with Ranakur held far more appeal. She pressed him to the back of the lift, pulled down his head, and captured his mouth.

When the lift binged for her floor, they stumbled out and down the hallway, and it was a good thing none of Vilstair’s neighbors were about. She’d never hear the end of it. She pawed at the controls next to her door, which finally opened. They dumped their things on the couch and tumbled into bed.

Over breakfast the next morning, early because Ranakur’s day started far too soon, Ranakur looked up at her, his four eyes wider than usual. I tried to say this yesterday. I couldn’t.

Her hands tightened around her steaming coffee mug. What is it?

Today, I have a conversation with representatives from Tarmestil. It’s about Brovdonvik Sheshezin.

Vilstair forced herself to put the mug down carefully. Throwing it wouldn’t help anything. What in the hells? They care now? Why bother? Xixiao is dead, Sheshezin is gods know where, and the Light doesn’t care about your testimony anyway.

That’s why it took so long for them to hold a trial. The Light caught some of the mercenaries on Nunaro, we took Sheshezin’s people into custody, and the kireishi— He pressed his lips together.

It’s a fucking farce. The Light doesn’t care about justice for Xixiao. It was a good thing she’d already put down the mug. Her fingers bit into her thighs, hard. They won’t care about what you say.

Ranakur shrugged. Probably not. But they’ve asked, I will testify honestly and thoroughly, and I wanted you to know. Even though there’s nothing we can do about it.

Vilstair blew out a long stream of air. She shouldn’t be upset with Ranakur. None of this was his fault. He was doing something good. He was testifying before the Light, even though it would be a waste of time, because she still felt guilt over Xixiao’s death. If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t bother.

Thank you. She released her grip on her thighs and looked up at him. I appreciate it. I don’t know if people in heaven care about mortal justice, but I think Xixiao would appreciate it too.

Xixiao is beyond mortal concerns, but he had friends and family. The Light views justice differently than we do, but his friends and family will want to know that he has been avenged.

Has he?

Vilstair—

I know. She pressed her palm against her eyes. I know. I’m sorry. You should go to work. You’ll be late if you don’t leave now.

Ranakur stood and walked around the table to kiss her. I can afford to be late once. I don’t want to leave if you’re upset.

Vilstair managed a smile and kissed him back. I’m upset, but I’ll be fine. I promise. Go on. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.

But trouble with you is so much fun. Ranakur grinned and kissed her again. Then, because he didn’t really want to get in trouble for being late, he tugged on his jacket, grabbed his lunch, waved goodbye, and left the apartment. Vilstair watched as he walked down the hallway to the lift.

She waited five minutes after he left, to be sure that he wouldn’t come back. Then she sat down on the couch and tapped her jewel. The footage came up before her. She’d already watched it so many times that she had it memorized, but she watched it again. She couldn’t help it. Every few days, she had to watch this.

There was no audio on the recording — various techs tried everything, but the ship’s entire audio system had gone down. There was nothing to fix. So Vilstair and everyone else could only watch. She watched as the guards fell over and the robots turned off. She watched as a shadow appeared in front of Sheshezin’s cell. She watched as Sheshezin spoke with the shadow, paused as he listened to answers that no one could hear. His face had been tilted away from the cameras, so they couldn’t learn the conversation by watching his mouth move.

She watched as the bars of Sheshezin’s cell melted away, all the security sudden vanished. She watched as he stepped out and touched the shadow. She watched as Sheshezin and the shadow vanished together.

It was the Dark. It had to be the Dark. The Neutral didn’t have anyone with that kind of power. The Light would loudly and publicly insist that the Gray give Sheshezin to them. The Light didn’t believe in hiding things. So it had to be the Dark, because it couldn’t be anyone else.

Sheshezin wasn’t a Dark path. All his records made that clear. He had only contempt for anyone who worshiped a god, believing that all the gods were useless and no longer concerned about mortals. He said that often in his diaries, so they knew it was true. Why then would the Dark rescue him? He must be useful to them somehow.

The why didn’t matter, in the end. Neither did it matter who broke him out. Sheshezin had escaped. He would never stand trial, not in the Gray or the Light. He did terrible things, and he had escaped the consequences.

The trial the Light was holding was a farce, since the Light didn’t care about Xixiao’s death. If the Light cared, they would have asked for Ranakur’s testimony a year ago, when he returned from Chelesun and reported the whole affair.

Even if the Light held the trial immediately, it wouldn’t have mattered. Any trial was a farce. So what if they had the mercenaries who took money to kill Xixiao? So what if they had Sheshezin’s employees and business associates? Sheshezin got away, and he was the one behind it. He orchestrated the murder of a child, he enslaved twenty kireishi to him, and he wasn’t going to pay for any of those crimes.

It killed Vilstair to think of it, and it killed her more that she couldn’t do anything about it. Even if they knew for sure that Sheshezin was in the Dark, it didn’t matter. The Gray was at war with the Dark — the Gray was always at war with the Dark. Gray operatives who slipped into Dark territory and then got found out died slow, horrible deaths. It was too dangerous to send someone into Dark territory just to capture or kill a criminal. Especially since they didn’t even know where they’d find Sheshezin.

When the footage had repeated for the fifth time, Vilstair finally turned it off. She had to stop watching it. It was terrible, and it made her want to kill someone, but there was nothing she could do about it. Sheshezin was gone, slipped beyond her grasp. She was just going to have to live with that, and hope that Xixiao would forgive her.

She would never know if he forgave her, because he was in the Light’s heaven and she would end up in the Gray’s underworld. He was gone, and she would never see him again.

Vilstair flung herself down on the couch, landing face first in the cushions. Since Ranakur was busy with work and thus not noticing her, she let herself cry. She had mourned for Xixiao many times over the last year, but his death hadn’t stopped hurting. She knew now that it would never stop hurting.

2

The Gray frigate Jitora floated in deep space, and Lancis stared at the distant stars on the display. The sensors recorded information, most of which didn’t concern her. The scientists back on Diresi would find these readings interesting, but they did nothing for Lancis. She wasn’t interested in astronomical phenomena. She would only be interested if they detected any signals from the Light.

Their position was in Neutral space, between Light and Gray territory. Many worlds and stars filled this area of space, but Captain Qisang had picked a spot far from anything of interest. It lay close to a major hyperspace route, but far enough that they didn’t expect to meet any other ships.

They had been here two standard days. So far, they hadn’t seen other ships. Nor had they seen anything else useful for the war.

Some of the crew had started muttering. The pilot sat two consoles down from Lancis. He slumped in his chair, staring at his display with lidded eyes, a pout pushing out his lower lip. We could at least explore this region, he said for the seventh time.

There wasn’t much to discover — that was why they were here. No stars, no nebulae, no black holes, no rocks, nothing. That was why it was a good place to stay while taking readings. There would be nothing to interfere as they pointed their sensors towards Light territory.

Enjoy it while it lasts, said the head gunner from a few consoles further down. When we find the Light, we’ll miss this.

Those two and the rest of the bridge crew turned towards one another. That meant they had to turn to look at their consoles, but it also meant they had their backs to Lancis, since her console sat at the far end. The bridge of the Jitora wasn’t big. No matter how much they turned or how softly they spoke, she heard. She pretended not to. When people were bored, they complained. So long as it was just bitching, she ignored it. The conversation kept the crew alert in case something happened.

The Jitora was not the best ship in the Gray fleet — it was far from that. It wasn’t the most powerful, the fastest, the most modern, or the most stealthy. But it had some of the best sensors in the fleet, especially for monitoring communication channels. Let the warships and other frigates fight on the border, where they met with Light ships. The Jitora was exactly where it would do the most good.

A ping came from her console, and Lancis leaned closer, hitting buttons. A communication came through, from a Light world near the border to a Neutral world. Like all messages, it had been encoded. Lancis ran it through a decoding program, frowning. She didn’t know what the message said, but she knew its point of original and its point of destination. The origin, Valwarvan, struck her as strange.

While the decoder worked, she