Branegate (8 page)

Two days out he told Petyr about how it was his presence in the dreams, now, his Immortal father using a soldier of The Church as a kind of familiar disguise. Petyr seemed pleased. “I’m flattered, but I wonder why he doesn’t use his own face. It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

“Everyone knows his face,” said Trae. “It was in every cubicle in the caverns. But some mistakenly worship him as The Source.”

“He’s a part of it, and so are you,” Petyr said reverently.

“And you?”

“No. A soldier of The Church is not an Immortal. The Immortals come from The Source, and bring us a new way of life if we’ll accept it. We don’t know what The Source is, or where It is. It could be beyond the stars.”

“I don’t have time to get there,” said Trae, and his vision blurred for an instant. “It will have to come to me. I have the feeling right now it’s not important. It’s not even important I find my father right away. What I need to do first is find other Immortals and convince them I’m who you say I am.”

“Who
I
say you are?”

“You say I’m the reincarnated son of Leonid Zylak, an Immortal man who left us seventy five years ago. That makes me an Immortal, and now I’m supposed to save the Lyraen people from an Emperor who’d like to kill them. I know I’m different, but I don’t believe in reincarnation, Petyr. I really don’t believe what people are telling me, but here I am, following directions from visions I get in my head. I’m feeling The Immortals are waiting for me. I have to find them, and that’s why we’re going to Galena. It’s not about raising an army, either. It’s about money. Economic power. Not one Emperor, but several, a League of Emperors.”

Trae put his hands on the sides of his head. “It’s a babbling. It comes and goes.”

“Confusing,” said Petyr, and smiled.

“Bursts,” said Trae, “like just now, and it’s already fading. It’s getting worse.”

“Relax, and listen. All comes from The Source in various ways. You’re being given what you need as you need it, but we still have to do our part.”

Trae still didn’t know what that was when they docked at Ariel II. Nobody was there to greet them. Petyr got off first to scan the people near the port, then came back for Trae. They walked the long tunnel to the lobby to stretch their legs. The cylindrical tunnel walls glowed a fluorescent light blue, and there was a breeze with a scent of pine in it. The lobby had four levels, and they came in at level one. They took an elevator up to level four for ticketing. There was no line at Station Six, and Trae walked right up to the young man checking in passengers there. The man smiled.

“You must be Lan,” said Trae. “I’m Trae, and you’re holding two tickets to Galena for me.”

“All ready for you,” said the man, and handed Trae an envelope. “Your departure was scheduled for tomorrow, but there have been inquiries about you so you’ll be boarding in an hour. Please remain here in the lounge until twenty minutes before boarding, and we’ll arrange a diversion to send you on your way. Your luggage is already on board.”

“Thanks for your attention to this,” said Trae.

“Wherever or whatever,” said the man. “The Source is with all of us.”

Trae told Petyr what had happened. “More spies,” mumbled Petyr. “How far do we have to go to be rid of them?”

They sat in a corner of the lounge, their backs to the Station counters, and watched the stars go by on a giant observing screen on one wall. The time of their departure approached rapidly, and Petyr was checking his watch to begin their sprint to the port when there was a loud commotion behind them. Two policemen came out of the tunnel leading to Port Four, and they were dragging a red-faced, struggling man between them. A woman followed them, waving her arms and screaming for everyone to hear.

“Right in front of the counter he took it from me! Tore it right off my wrist and tried to run! Criminal!”

“Let me go, or you’ll regret it,” snarled the man. “My identity card is in my inside pocket. This is a sham; she shoved her hand into my pants pocket to put the bracelet there, and
you’re
interfering with official business!”

The police dragged him away, and as soon as he was out of sight Trae and Petyr walked rapidly down the tunnel to Port Four and boarded the city-sized vessel that would ferry them to Galena over the following four days.

It was like boarding an asteroid with engines, the rocky exterior of the great ship pitted and scarred by high speed collisions with interplanetary dust and debris. Only a tenth of ship’s volume was living and working space, the rest of it filled with frozen water for reaction mass, and eight thermonuclear reactors for power. Inside the living space one could imagine being in a fine hotel, with restaurants, entertainment lounges, a casino and shops featuring the wares of several planets.

There were nine levels. Petyr and Trae had a room with two beds on the third. After disconnect from Ariel II it was awkward at first, moving about like drunken monkeys swinging from strap to strap on walls and ceiling, then buckling into recliners for acceleration, low at first, rising to one gee within an hour and lasting for most of the trip.

They watched films in their apartment, but ate in the restaurants, even gambled a bit. Petyr’s eyes never stopped moving; Trae found himself looking for a furtive glance, a face appearing often near them, the close-spaced eyes of one of the Emperor’s thugs. The whole trip he saw nothing to disturb him, and there were no dreams to break up his sleep. The time passed peacefully for four days, and then they arrived at Galena.

There were few comparisons with the world of Gan. No soldiers were visible at the spaceport, and there were no checkpoints in or out of the arrival area. People dressed casually in light, loose fitting clothing so that Trae and Petyr stood out in their formal, dark suits. They walked the long tunnel leading to the baggage claim area. Soothing music with no defined rhythm came from speakers in the ceiling. A man dressed in the orange flowing robe of a Lyraen priest went by them in the opposite direction without so much as a glance at them.

Trae was amazed. “That can’t be a Lyraen priest in public, can it?” he asked Petyr. “Nobody even looked at him, except me.”

Petyr turned to answer, but looked sharply over his shoulder in surprise.

“Yes, it’s a Lyraen priest,” said a voice from behind them. “There’s no religious persecution here.”

Trae slowed, and twisted to look behind him. A small man in baggy pants and a loose, white sweater was right behind them, following their stride. “Welcome to Galena. I’ll guide you to our car. Your luggage has already been picked up, and we’ll be taking you directly to the palace.”

There was good reason for suspicion; the man had appeared out of nowhere. So why did Trae feel safe with him?

“I didn’t notice you when we came in,” said Petyr.

“That’s because I was on the flight with you from Ariel II. I was to clean up any residue of some problems we had there. As a soldier of The Church I’m sure you know what that means. You may call me Pavel, but it’s not my real name.”

The man moved in between them and looked up at Trae. “You’re younger than we expected, but I’m sure it won’t matter. Our hope is you’ll be open with us about the purpose of your coming here.”

“Will we be meeting with Emperor Siddique?” asked Trae.

“His representative will conduct your interview. Our Emperor cannot be directly involved at this moment. The politics of The League are delicate, and have considerable influence on our economic development. You come to us from the most conservative of planets, while we are quite liberal. The other five worlds are somewhere in between us in their policies, but lean towards the conservative side. So far Galena is tolerated as a wealthy and successful rebel, and we want to keep it that way. This way, please.”

They turned into a branching tunnel and after a few paces Pavel went to a door marked ‘Flight Personnel Only’ and unlocked it. They went down a level on concrete stairs to a lounge overlooking shuttles parked on the tarmac. A shuttle crew was sitting at tables there, eating light meals from vending machines lining one wall. Pavel nodded politely to them, went to another door. Trae and Petyr followed him down a long, empty tunnel leading directly to the street outside the terminal. One look, and Trae was reminded of a dream he’d had of two moons in an azure blue sky.

A limousine awaited them, a large, black thing with heavily tinted windows. A plate mounted on the front grill of the car showed a flag striped in green, red and yellow. A uniformed driver opened the back door for them, and they got inside to a plush interior, Trae and Petyr facing Pavel.

“We’re naturally concerned about you being seen here,” said Pavel, and the car began moving, “but private accommodations will be provided for you in the palace until you wish to move on.”

And when would that be? There were no new fugue states to tell him anything. “Thank you,” said Trae.

Pavel smiled at him. “I’ve never seen an Immortal before. Excuse me, but there doesn’t seem to be anything special to distinguish you from other people.”

“For the present, that’s to our advantage,” said Petyr.

“Are you aware of any Lyraen churches here?” asked Trae.

“Oh, yes. There’s one near the palace. The state, of course, doesn’t officially sanction religion. There are no subsidies or tax benefits, but several religions exist, some going back to ancient times. Emperor Siddique isn’t a religious person, but he insists on tolerance for all beliefs. It is a matter of respect, and our people feel secure with his policy. I think it’s why we’ve had no unrest on this planet, while the rest of The League has experienced instabilities, especially on Gan. Your Emperor Osman is not a friend of ours, and has publicly called our Emperor weak.”

“Osman is nobody’s friend on Gan,” said Petyr.

Pavel nodded, his hands folded neatly in his lap. “Yes, well, these things will be discussed. You’ll meet soon with a representative of The Throne. I don’t know who it will be, or what agenda he’ll bring to you from our Emperor. I can only assure you your beliefs are respected, your needs fairly considered, and you have the protection of The State while you’re here.”

The drive was short, at high speed. The palace was a complex of white stuccoed buildings surrounded by a ten-foot-high wall. They drove inside to a courtyard with beds of flowers and a gushing fountain. Pavel led them inside to an empty, vast foyer with columns and floor in brown marble. Trae wondered briefly where everyone was in such a state building. The air was still, and there was a sweet scent about them. They crossed the entire foyer to an ornately carved door. Pavel put his hand on a lever to open it, and stood aside. “I’ll wait for you here,” he said softly, and gave them a slight bow.

They went inside, and the door closed quickly behind them. The light was dim, and it took seconds for their eyes to adjust. It was a large room without windows. Lamps glowed from stonewalls, spaced between gleaming portraits of richly dressed men in regal poses, and there was a faint odor of the oil paints they’d been done with. A long, broad table with many chairs occupied the center of the room. A single lamp glowed from one end of the table, bright enough to reveal someone sitting there.

“Please sit,” said a man’s voice, deep and rich.

They sat down to the right of him, Petyr sitting closest. The man’s face was barely visible in the dim light. It was a long face, with deep-set eyes. His lips were thin, and curved into a faint smile. “You may call me Assan, and I will speak for our Emperor Rasim Siddique, who is your host. May His Wisdom continue in all matters.”

“We greatly appreciate your hospitality,” said Petyr, “as well as your willingness to listen to us. We’re here to seek counsel and possible aid regarding the plight of the Lyraen people and others being oppressed on Gan.”

“Directly put,” said Assan, and leaned forward to put his forearms on the table. He was wearing the rough, brown robe ordinarily used by Lyraens during their meditations at home. “I intend to be equally direct with you so there will be no misunderstandings. I speak for our Emperor and his policies, but I also have my personal opinions. I will try to distinguish those for you.”

Trae could hold back no longer. “Your robe is familiar, sir. I’m wondering if you’re a believer in the Lyraen faith. I’m Trae, and this is Petyr. He’s my teacher, and a soldier of The Church.”

“I know,” said Assan, “and yes, I’m a believer. It’s the primary reason I was chosen for this interview. I know who you are said to be, and who your father was. His missionaries were quite active on Galena until he went away, but that was in the time of Selah Siddique. Your youthful look is amazing. You must be nearing eighty.”

Trae’s mind blurred for a heartbeat. “I’m sixteen, sir. I’ve been reincarnated into this body after being murdered by the Emperor of Gan shortly before my father fled. I still have memories of it in my dreams. The Lyraen people have been hunted down and slaughtered for nearly a century on Gan. Only a few have managed to avoid capture, but it’s a matter of time before they’ll also be gone, and the Lyraen faith with them.”

“On Gan, perhaps, but the faith will survive elsewhere. Khalid Osman is a hard man; this is well known. His policies have incurred the anger of his subjects. He’s insecure. The Lyraens pose a direct threat because they stand for freedom of the individual, and Osman will have none of that. His rule must be absolute.”

Assan leaned back and steepled his fingers in front of his face. “The same is not true here. Rasim Siddique as Emperor could also be a total dictator, but is not. Our senate has representatives from all classes, and judges all policies. In the rare cases when a judgment is overruled, satisfactory compromises are made. The system has worked for hundreds of years, well enough that even the Lyraen Mission founded by The Immortals has not sought to change it. Individuals enjoy freedom here, but we are not a democracy. Is that your purpose in coming here? To change what we have? Or is it to solicit our military support in overthrowing the government of Gan?”

“I wish I could tell you exactly why we’re here, sir,” said Trae, “but my primary purpose is to save the lives of innocent people on Gan.”