Empress of Eternity (23 page)

33 Quad 2471 R.E.

For a good quarter of an hour, the armored trucks remained motionless while the Ruche surface-effect vessel moved in a tight circle in the middle of the canal.

“Why are they waiting?” asked Rhyana.

“They’re probably calibrating a weapon on the SEV,” replied Eltyn. “Or they’re waiting for another kind of attack.”

Calibrating…[incompetence]
, pulsed Faelyna.

“Not too bright. They didn’t even notice the RF wheeler,” added Rhyana.

“It is covered in sand,” Eltyn pointed out.

Seeing only what they want to…or can
, suggested Faelyna.

Several more minutes passed before a reddish gold point of light struck the north side of the station, barely caught by the monitors, then vanished. Another followed from the SEV in the middle of the canal. It was equally without effect.

Lasers ineffective
⁴
.
Idiots
, pulsed Eltyn.

Ignorant. No one left from TechOversight or MetCom who knows the MCC parameters.

One of the armored trucks rolled up alongside the south wall of the station. The cab opened, and a woman in gray drab scrambled out and pressed her hands beside where the stone door was. The small miniturret atop the cab swiveled and a single-barreled weapon focused on the door. The door did not respond to the woman’s touch.

Locks holding.
Eltyn knew the comment was redundant. Faelyna was accessing the monitors as well. But he felt he had to acknowledge her success.

The woman kept holding her hands against the wall. The truck turned and headed back to join the other four, leaving the woman alone. Finally, she lifted her hands from the station wall and ran back toward the five vehicles. Eltyn continued to watch her, the trucks, and the SEV. After several minutes beside the lead truck, the woman trudged back westward, this time in the narrower space between the raised seawall and the north wall of the station. When she reached the point where the canal-side door was located, she again pressed her hands against the stone, to no avail.

Eltyn did his best to focus the monitor on her more closely. From what he could tell, her face was fixed in concentration, yet her eyes seemed…off. He projected the image.

Brain-scrub and conditioning,
suggested Faelyna.

“They don’t care if she gets killed,” said Rhyana. “Poor thing.”

“Just so long as she serves The Twenty.” Eltyn didn’t bother to mute the raw sarcasm.

Yet…he certainly hadn’t questioned the The Fifty or any of the higher officials of the Ruche before the coup…or had he? He and Faelyna had embarked on a secret project for TechOversight, one that certainly wouldn’t have been considered favorably by The Fifty—and hadn’t been. But The Fifty hadn’t been brain-scrubbing anyone who disagreed. They just hadn’t approved their projects.

Where was the line between ethical disagreement and being a traitor? Was it killing? If so, he was now a traitor. But…there was a difference between killing to avoid being killed and killing others because they didn’t agree…wasn’t there? Eltyn didn’t have time to ponder that point and what led to and from it. The emergency signal flashed.

They want to communicate.

You talk,
pulsed Eltyn.
Might say what I think. [wryness]

I won’t?

You always think before you speak.

I’ll remind you of that later.
Faelyna pressed the stud to acknowledge the emergency transmission, using the manual override, rather than admitting that the station still had full internal communication systems. “Yes?”

“Regional Inspector Welkyr here. You have not opened this installation to inspection as required by The Twenty. Why have you not complied?”

“When your inspectors arrived, they came bearing arms,” replied Faelyna. “They also followed reports that they had brain-scrubbed almost everyone at the Apialor station. The one inspector we captured threatened us with the same. Under those circumstances, would you have opened the station to anyone?”

“The Twenty are fair and just.”

Faelyna did not reply to Welkyr.
How can I answer that without lying or infuriating him?

“He’s lying,” muttered Rhyana.

You can’t,
pulsed Eltyn.

For several minutes, the three in the station waited.

Finally, Welkyr spoke again, his voice smooth coming from the comm speaker. “Despite your actions in failing to comply with the law of the Ruche, Ruche Research is prepared to offer you leniency if you leave MCC (W) with all equipment intact. There is no need to prolong this…inconvenience. Just be reasonable, and all will be well.”

“Exactly what do you mean by leniency?” replied Faelyna.

Ask about whether The Twenty will abide by whatever agreement Ruche Research reaches,
pulsed Eltyn.

Not yet
, she pulsed back.

“You will be treated as any other nonviolent member of the Ruche who has not yet seen the way of The Twenty.”

“That doesn’t sound lenient after what we’ve seen so far.” Faelyna’s voice was totally matter-of-fact.

“It is most lenient for those who have defied the very principles of the Ruche.”

“It’s not lenient enough for us. We’d like to keep both our minds and bodies intact.”

“The Ruche will not harm you. You will have long and productive lives.”

As little more than barely sentient vegetables
, suggested Eltyn.

“We’re looking for long, productive, and thoughtful lives,” pointed out Faelyna.

“We can offer no more,” stated Welkyr.

“Then we must reluctantly decline your most kind offer,” replied Faelyna.

“Then you must deal with the consequences that befall all who refuse the mercy of The Twenty.”

Mercy? If that’s mercy, we don’t need to hear what they believe is justice or retribution,
pulsed Eltyn.

“No mercy there,” said Rhyana.

The emergency comm went dead. Shortly, all five armored trucks turned, one after the other, and drove eastward from the canal, raising a faint haze of sand and dust.

Eltyn increased the size of the image, so that Rhyana could see it clearly as well.
Retract and shield. Report status.

Retracted and shielded.

The projected image vanished.

“What happened?” asked Rhyana.

“As soon as they’re out of range, the SEV will start firing, either lasers or projectiles, or both,” suggested Eltyn. “The lasers won’t do anything, unless they hit an antenna or a scanner, and from where they’re situated, they can only take out the scanner and the antenna on the north. Missiles or projectiles could take out the other scanners and even the power cables—although those would take lucky shots. There’s no point in leaving anything unnecessarily exposed.”

“The tidal generator is underwater,” added Faelyna. “It’s not the primary power source anyway. The solar grid is spread over kays to the south, and most of the cabling is buried deeply.”

“Some of the sensors are shielded anyway, and we can get an idea of what they’re doing.”

A spike in temperature on the north side of the station confirmed that the SEV had focused at least one laser on the station. Several other beam strikes registered. Then, for several minutes, nothing happened.

“Projectiles are likely on the way,” Eltyn said dryly.

Seismic sensors began to register impacts, more than a few.

Shelling us in earnest,
Eltyn pulsed to Faelyna.

Nothing like a believer scorned.

Eltyn tried to get an image through the local antenna on the south side of the station, but all it revealed was sand and dust swirling around the station, with an occasional gout of dirt and sand, mostly sand, geysering into the sky south of the canal stone.

Then one warning indicator came up, and another.

The main antenna is out again…we’ve lost seventeen percent of the solar grid.

Eltyn waited as the impacts continued, but the system did not indicate any more warnings.

A good hour passed before the shelling stopped.

The emergency comm flashed again.

Faelyna looked at Eltyn.

He shrugged.

“Yes?”

“Are you ready to reconsider and accept the mercy of The Twenty?”

“Not unless you guarantee long, prosperous, and intelligent life,” replied Faelyna.

“We have promised that.”

“Then you’re lying, and that’s even more despicable.”

“We only want you to embrace the Ruche so that you will not be lost to the Meld.”

“We’ll remain lost, thank you.”

In less than five minutes, the shelling resumed, and continued for another half hour. Then the SEV began to move eastward, slowly at first, before gaining full speed, from what Eltyn could determine from the east-facing local antenna/scanner.

“How bad we hurting?” asked Rhyana.

“We’ve lost twenty-three percent of the solar grid and the main scanning antenna. We don’t have another spare. Even if we did, being outside any time soon wouldn’t be good.”

Not at all,
pulsed Faelyna.

“Now what?”

Eltyn shrugged again. “Their pride is hurt. They’ll try something even more powerful.”

“They wouldn’t be stupid enough to use a nuclear device, would they?”

“Unless they’ve got more scientific expertise than we know, they couldn’t have built one since they took over, but they’ll come up with something.”

Eltyn was afraid he knew exactly what that was…but they’d have to evacuate the area on the north side of the canal before they did, not that there were all that many people there.

You really think they would?
Faelyna looked to him.

You think they wouldn’t?

She shook her head.

“Is there any of that casserole left?” asked Eltyn, offering a smile he didn’t feel.

20 Siebmonat 3123, Vaniran Hegemony

Duhyle had only made the first of the changes to the synchronizer before the arrival of the Aesyr’s monster vessel, its hull and superstructure of a brown so dark that it was almost black. The warship turned sharply a kay off the west coast of Vanira and came to an immediate stop, sending a miniature tsunami shoreward. That cascade of water shot upward at the ocean wall of the canal and sent spray across the stone of the station. The warship was indeed nearly a kay in sleek length, yet lay low in the water, with the top of the single Hammer mast rising less than fifty yards above the surface of the Jainoran Ocean. Immediately forward of the bridge was a single turret with two stubby guns or launchers. A similar massive turret dominated the area forward of the fantail. Duhyle projected an image, hoping to gain a better view.

The entire superstructure of the vessel was angular and shiny. While the overall impression was that of a shimmering brownish black, colors rippled from the surface. A single Hammer streak flared from that mast—striking the sea cliffs to the south of where the canal wall ended. Dust flared into the midday sky.

Just as quickly, the Aesyr vessel vanished.

“Where did it go?” demanded Symra, who had returned to the chamber so quietly that Duhyle hadn’t noticed her. Blackish purple darkened her lashes.

Duhyle knew the ship was still there. It couldn’t have moved, but it had become invisible to scanners at any frequency.

“Energy-shielded,” observed Helkyria. “A laser would bend away from it now.”

“They could have approached unseen.”

“Not at that speed. The waves its mass created would have given it away. Besides, Baeldura wanted us to know what the ship can do. Let’s see if…”

Abruptly, the light around the three
shifted
. The illumination wasn’t more intense or less so. It was subtly, if fundamentally, different.

The chamber in which Duhyle sat changed as well. Before him rose a bank of instruments, or equipment, reaching from floor to ceiling. Yet he could make out none of it in detail. The dimensions or the properties of what he beheld shifted even as he tried to determine what lay before him. He squinted, trying to focus on the narrow console in front of him, only to see it widen, and then shrink to half its height before turning from a bluish silver to pewter gray, and then to silvered gold. A row of strange high-backed chairs stretched out beside him. He saw and felt that he was sitting in one, his arms lying comfortably in armrests, with controls under his fingers. A silver-haired woman sat beside him, except suddenly she was a dark-haired man with a square beard.

Duhyle opened his mouth to speak, and strange and incomprehensible words echoed in his ears.

Then, as suddenly as it had all enfolded him, the visions vanished.

He glanced toward Helkyria. The tips of his consort’s hair had flared silver, then subsided as he watched. “What—”

“That couldn’t be…equipment like that…” Symra’s voice died away.

“Intersection of conflicting shadow harmonics,” Helkyria said. “I’m judging that they bend time, or fragment it, or fragment our understanding of it. I’m still having trouble calibrating some of this.”

“Did you see…was this a control room of some sort?”

“It was a control room of many sorts, probably for years. That was then. Right now, we still need to deal with the Aesyr ship out there.”

That might be so, but the stark and spare space where Duhyle sat was alien in comparison to what he had experienced, if only briefly. He took a deep breath, massaged his forehead, and returned to studying the monitor images.

From the angle of the station scanners, he could see that the Aesyr Hammer strike had carved from the stone ramparts of the western coast a semicircle a good kay across. The scanners could not see how deep the damage went. From the stream rising from below, Duhyle judged that a new bay lay at the base of the reconfigured topography.

“The Hammer strike was aimed at us,” Helkyria said, her voice even.

“What are they trying to do?” asked Symra.

“The same thing as all true believers—use force to remake the world to fit their views,” replied Helkyria. “Like all believers, they feel that they’ve been wronged by others’ inability to see that only they have the answers and the way.”

“People aren’t like that,” protested the subcaptain.

Not all people,
thought Duhyle,
but all too many. If no one stands up to those who want to force their views on others, then everyone suffers.

“Quiet. We’re getting a message. It’s Baeldura.”

An image appeared on the reception monitor. Duhyle projected it so Symra could see.

The woman who stood before them was tall, with neck-length flaming red hair, and silvered black eyes. She wore a plain black singlesuit with no insignia. No background projected with her, suggesting that she did not wish to reveal the details of wherever she was—or the equipment.

“Commander Helkyria…I presume. You might grant me an image.”

Helkyria nodded to Duhyle, and he used the internal scanner to capture her.

“Much better.” A warm and broad smile appeared on Baeldura’s face. “You’ve been working hard, and more effectively than Scient-Marshal Thora imagined possible.”

Duhyle had to admit that the Aesyr leader was breathtakingly beautiful, if in the cool and cruel manner he’d observed in other powerful women, usually politicians.

“I find that difficult to believe,” replied Helkyria. “Thora has always had a broad and wide imagination. What did you have in mind, Baeldura, now that you’ve determined that the station is not so easily taken?”

The redhead nodded. “Not by force, it would appear. That may be for the best. It would be a pity to destroy what lies within. I am requesting that you surrender the station, for the good of all Earth.”

“The good of all Earth?” Helkyria repeated the phrase almost without inflection.

“You believe that survival outweighs principles. We believe principles outweigh survival. Therefore, the maximum good for all comes if you surrender. Everyone survives—or most everyone—and principles reign supreme.”

“Your principles, I believe.”

“Come…let’s not quibble, Commander. Will you surrender the canal and the station to us? Or will you watch as we destroy Vaena and the Vanir?” asked Baeldura.

“If you use those weapons, you’ll destroy yourselves as well in a very few years,” Helkyria pointed out.

“The universe will end, Helkyria. Better it end sooner in freedom than drag on eternally in the mind-numbing and subtle tyranny imposed by the Vanir.”

“I’m not even in charge of Security, Baeldura.”

“I won’t even quibble about that. I’ll give you twenty-four hours to consult with the Magistra of Security before you decide. If you don’t come out and surrender the station intact to us then…then the Hammers will begin to fall. As you may have seen, I have already withdrawn the Aesyr from around the station.” Baeldura’s image vanished.

For several moments, none of the three in the chamber spoke.

“What are these principles that she keeps mentioning?” asked Symra. “Why are they worth destroying everything for?”

“They started out as self-government for Midgard, but self-government meant government by the Aesyr with no vote for any Vanir living there,” Duhyle said. “Then, they wanted freedom of genetic choice. That translates, I think, into building bigger, stronger, and more intelligent Aesyr in order to maintain order, order being control over anyone lesser—”

“The issue of principles, per se, is secondary,” interrupted Helkyria.

“She has to be bluffing,” insisted Symra.

“Would you bet the universe on that? When the Aesyr have done exactly what they said they would do?” Helkyria looked at the subcaptain.

Symra looked down. “It’s not right…”

“I doubt the universe cares what is right,” replied Helkyria calmly.

Duhyle couldn’t help frowning for a moment. Was the universe that…random? Was whatever its organizing principle might be so biased against…? He shook his head. He couldn’t frame the vague concept that lurked just beyond his mental reach.

He checked the monitors. As Baeldura had promised, he could detect no Aesyr group anywhere within range of the station. “What do you have in mind?”

“Fragmenting time…or at least the station’s place in it. If we can.” She looked to Duhyle. “I have some ideas about more changes to your synchronizer. They shouldn’t take that long.” Her eyes went to Symra. “You can tell Captain Valakyr about the Aesyr ultimatum. Also tell her about the rather permanent alteration to the cliffs…and that we are attempting a way to avoid making that rather unpleasant choice. All the troopers need to remain within the station. We will likely need them.”

Puzzlement crossed the subcaptain’s face. “Yes, ser.” She turned and headed down the ramp.

“What do you need me to do?” asked Duhyle.

“Everything.” Helkyria’s smile was both affectionate and wry. “Starting with a way to double the power the synchronizer can take. Knowing you, it’s overbuilt. I do hope it’s overbuilt…”

“Mostly, but that will be stretching it.”

“Then…stretch…”

Duhyle found himself smiling.