Infinite Day (34 page)

Dear Amin! Back in touch and within sight of Bannermene! Can you believe it? An amazing story but safe and well. We need to talk. I will try to contact you soon.

Much love, Gerry.

She paused and sent the message, then calculated how much time it would take going through Gates and between worlds and decided that there would be a twenty-minute delay at least before she received an answer.

In fact it was half an hour before a bell chimed and the wallscreen came alive. She looked at the screen, and even before she read the words, a sense of foreboding like a massive weight punched into her.

There was a picture of Amin in the corner, and it was black edged. She read the words, their terrible import sinking in slowly.

This is a message from Hilda and Ferraldo, Amin's parents. Thank you for trying to contact our son. We are deeply saddened to tell you that Amin was killed in a training accident outside La Chapelle on the 28th of September.

Gerry felt hot tears flooding her eyes.

All we can say is that he was working on new weapons and that something went wrong. We are proud of Amin. As you know, he played a small but vital role in alerting the Assembly to the peril it faces. Amin did not need to go on active service and could have easily been shifted to training of crews. But he volunteered. He will be missed. We are proud of him. Yours, kept by his grace.

Two shaky signatures were appended.

Gerry cried for an hour. Then she got up, washed her face, and prepared to go to the bridge and tell the others the news. As she straightened her clothes and tried to tidy her disheveled hair, her gaze fell on the datapak. And she realized that mercy had fled forever.

Numbed and feeling as if she were someone else, Gerry began to walk to the bridge. As she did, it dawned on her that people were shouting. When she came to the open space that ran between the decks, she saw a crew member looking down, her face pale and her hand on her mouth.

Gerry joined the woman. She was about to say, “Amin is dead” when it finally registered that something else was terribly wrong. She peered over to see two floors below and surrounded by people the limp, broken figure of Captain Huang-Li.

Clemant found Delastro in his room. His stomach felt like lead and his head hurt.

“Prebendant, the captain . . .
she's dead!
”

Delastro looked at him. “So I have heard. How very sad.” The voice betrayed no emotion.

“What happened?”
I can guess, but I want to hear his story
.

“I gather, Doctor, that Colonel Larraine found a stain on the ceiling above that space—the atrium, or—whatever you call it. A stain that might have been overlooked in the grayness of Below-Space. He was worried it might have been a fluid leak. He pointed it out to the captain. She was concerned.” He shrugged his high, thin shoulders. “She overbalanced. Zak reached out to grab her but was too late.” Delastro seemed to look at his feet.

I ought to challenge him. At least tell him I know what happened.
But Clemant knew now that he would not.

Delastro looked at him, his green eyes as hard as stone. “She came a long way and died at the end of her voyage. Strange and mysterious are the workings of the Lord's providence. But we must move on, Doctor. We have our mission. The Assembly must be saved.”

Clemant thought of all the things he ought to say but wouldn't. Instead he just said, “Yes.” It was easier.

Then he left to return to his room. He had a computer file to delete.

In Jerusalem, Ethan sat in the green room and waited for the holoconferencing link to come online. It had been a wearying day and he felt exhausted, but he wanted to talk to Eliza and Andreas. While the technician, the only other person in the room, adjusted the projectors, Ethan wondered if it had been wise to ask for the specialized holo-link transmission rather than the reliable diary linkup. No one knew his real motive, which was that as a large and complex signal, a holo-link was less likely to be successfully intercepted.

Today it was being temperamental, and as he waited for the signals Ethan looked around at the room. Twelve hours of meetings had taken their toll; the waste bins were full, there were empty coffee cups and plates with crumbs, and the air felt stale.
I am weary, and I feel I need
about a week to digest the implications of today's news.

Then suddenly the technician gave a thumbs-up and walked away, closing the doors behind him with a firm click. With a faint hum, the head and shoulders of Eliza Majweske appeared to the right of the table and, a moment later, those of Andreas Hmong to the left.

Ethan, without an extensive experience of holo-linking, found the illusion that they were really present hard to maintain. Each was lit differently and from a different angle.

They greeted each other and confirmed where they were in reality: Andreas was still in India while Eliza was in Nuevo Buenos Aires.

“So,” Ethan said, “you have read the briefing.”

“Eeth, I have read it, but it hasn't really sunk in.” Eliza shook her head. “It's gonna take time.”

“Andreas?”

The figure to the left cast a glance at an invisible piece of paper before looking at him. “The same, Ethan. It's pretty stunning. Nothing, I hazard, is untouched by this news. All is changed. Is there anything new?”

“More details mostly. But one rather sad note first. We heard three hours ago that Captain Serena Huang-Li has been killed in a freak accident.”

Eliza gave a little gasp. “Oh, how tragic! How did it happen?”

“She was in the company of . . . let me check. . . .” Ethan consulted his notes. “A Colonel Zachary Larraine. That's a colonel in something called the Farholme Defense Force, by the way. She was inspecting a part of the ship and fell to her death. The colonel tried to grab her but failed. He is badly shaken. Well, they all are. This advisor, Lucian Clemant, makes the comment that Dominion ships lack many of the safeguards Assembly ones have.”

“A sad footnote to what sounds like a mighty epic,” Andreas added.

“Indeed. And by the way, it seems now beyond doubt that they
are
our people. But the boarding party is still an hour away.”

Ethan caught a sharp look from Eliza. “What are we doing about quarantine?”

“We agreed just now that we will give them some medical checks and keep them isolated from the public for forty-eight hours. Nothing beyond that. You want more?”

Eliza gave a deferential shrug. “I think caution would be wise. But that's my training.”

Andreas made a sharply dismissive gesture with his hands. “I disagree. Utterly. We need to take risks. We need to get this story out, and these people can't do it from quarantine. I like the sound of these battles and the victories. Stirring news. I think they are what we need to hear.”

Ethan spoke. “Eliza, the decision has been made. Very much on the grounds that Andreas makes. The worlds are troubled. These tales of daring and sacrifice—”

“And of a real and horrid enemy,” Andreas interjected.

“—are what we feel are needed. So there will be minimal quarantine. And anyway, we need to get engineers on that ship. Fast. It's too wide to fly back through a Gate. And remember, Bannermene is still the front line and the enemy may turn up any day.”

Eliza gave a shrug of defeat.

“And on that topic, we don't like what we are hearing,” Ethan continued. “It's a big fleet of large and powerful vessels. But, Andreas, you are right about the battles. There are some extraordinary tales emerging. Utter treachery by this Dominion. A village devastated by these ghastly Krallen. A massive battle vessel destroyed by a sacrificial ploy. And the unparalleled supernatural incursions.”

Andreas raised a hand. “This needs to be handled well, Ethan. This is both good and bad news, and both need to be revealed with care. Please don't fumble it.”

Another hurtful comment
. “Andreas, I am working on it. The Strategic Advisory Group has a new media section, and they're putting together a phased release of data. I hope to make an announcement with a preliminary release of information in a dozen hours' time. We just need to be really sure that this is not a trick.”

Eliza gave a firm nod.

“Good. Very good.” Andreas said. “This is going to dominate everything. Is there imagery of all this?”

“Some. They are sending us details. It's not complete, though; they all left in a hurry. And as Advisor Clemant says, ‘My priority was winning the war not filming it.'”

“No word of Sentinel Enand?” Eliza asked.

“Ah yes. There is mention of him. They are grateful for his warning that evil was loose. And for sending the message. But although he helped with preparations, he doesn't seem to have played much of a part in later battles.”

Eliza seemed to consider the news, and Ethan saw disappointment in her face. Then she spoke. “Well, our job was to watch and warn. Sounds like he did all that was required of him. It's a pity he wasn't on the flight.”

The hologram of Andreas peered at Ethan. “Now, what of this prebendant?”

“He sounds remarkable. Evidently a very modest man. But he apparently played a major role. This angelic intervention—it sounds as if he had managed to invoke it.”

“Hmm. Remarkable, indeed!” Andreas said, but Ethan noted that Eliza's expression was more cautious.

“The prebendant doesn't want to take the credit,” Ethan went on. “He is also a very gifted speaker. Very dynamic. Motivates people.”

“I picked that up. Ethan, I'd like to hear this man.” Andreas sounded excited. “Get me some of his sermons or talks. He really could be what we need. A unifying figure.”

Another unspoken criticism that I shall ignore.

“I'll get some material sent over.”

“If I think he is suitable, I may get him broadcast to the congregations. Is that all right?”

“I don't see why not. Eliza? Do you have objections?”

Eliza looked thoughtful. “Well, he needs careful checking out.”

Andreas shook his head. “Eliza, your sentinel caution is getting the better of you. Evil
has
been discovered.” His tone was strident, even sarcastic. “It's out there. And it needs fighting. But not
cautiously
; with every weapon at our disposal. Including, perhaps, a prebendant from the far end of the Assembly. After all, if he has been a blessing to Farholme, why should he not be a blessing to us?”

Eliza nodded in a gesture of submission. “As you wish.”

“Thank you,” Andreas said. “I seem to remember an old phrase: ‘Comes the hour, comes the man.' I take it to mean that at a time of crisis God will send the right person.”

“Let us pray it is indeed so.” Eliza's words came as a quiet postscript.

Andreas turned his attention to Ethan. “I hope you are encouraged, Chairman. This news vindicates all that you have done. All this allocation of resources on weapons is now clearly justified. There is an enemy; he now has a name, and he must be fought. This news must help bind the Assembly together. Now, I must go.” And after apologies and farewells the image of Andreas faded.