Eternity's Mind (53 page)

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Authors: Kevin J. Anderson

BOOK: Eternity's Mind
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It would have to be enough.

He transmitted across the open comm lines to all Solar Navy ships. “Be reassured. We are here, and we are intact. Though we may be cut off from the
thism
outside, we have our own thoughts and strength. There are more than enough of us to share our mutual energy. We will keep each other strong.
I
will keep you strong.” He raised his voice. “We must move forward and destroy the darkness.”

General Keah transmitted from the
Kutuzov,
“We're here too, Z. All for one, and one for all.”

Their sensors became strangely disoriented, without any anchor points or reference guidelines. The sensor technicians scrambled to adjust, but their dismay was clear.

“Our ships can use one another as reference points,” Zan'nh declared. “We will establish our own orientation. That is all we need to know.”

“We need external images for the historical record,” said Rememberer Anton.

On the Juggernaut's bridge, Kotto Okiah's two young lab assistants stood near the General. Howard said, “Even without reliable points of reference, we can maintain our relative positions. As long as our navigation systems keep track of where we're going, we should be able to find our way back out.”

“We'll drop breadcrumb buoys as well,” Shareen added. “That's what Kotto did.”

The Solar Navy and CDF ships forged into the confusing nothingness. By instinct, Ildirans were repulsed and terrified by the absence of light, but this tactic might be the only way they could strike at the heart of the darkness—the only way they could go directly to the Shana Rei.

“Align our course with the records taken by Kotto Okiah's survey craft,” Zan'nh said. “Keep our weapons ready.”

“And your eyes open,” Keah added.

He didn't know what would happen if a firefight occurred in this bizarre antidimension. If the strike force had to scramble in retreat, would they be able to race back to the opening and escape into the Fireheart nebula?

The
Kutuzov
's green priest shook his head. “I can't use telink. My treeling can't find the rest of the verdani mind. I don't like it in here.” Nadd sniffled.

The emptiness around them was breathtaking and oppressive. The void's complete homogeneity was unsettling, and they flew onward for an unmeasurable distance—until finally they encountered a change in the smooth blackness, where knots and cracks of a deeper darkness were overlaid upon the emptiness. This was what Kotto had found.

“Heads up. I think that's what we're looking for,” called General Keah. “It certainly seems suspicious.”

Zan'nh studied the readings displayed on the sensor screens, seeing a different sort of blackness etched upon midnight. He was sure he could see dark objects, geometrical shapes. As the combined fleet approached, the resolution grew clearer.

Shana Rei hex cylinders.

He drew a deep breath. “Yes, I believe this is it.”

Ahead in the strange distorted field of the void he could discern the long sharp-edged manifestations of the creatures of darkness, like broken black lines against the membrane of the void, scattered about in a number that was difficult to count.

“They look like the bodies of crushed spiders,” Keah said. “And I don't like spiders.”

Zan'nh compared them to the shadows of shadows, imprints on the void from a much more powerful presence in realspace. By now, the strike force was coming up from the unprotected flank of the Shana Rei.

Zan'nh said, “I am concerned that our presence might alert them, particularly these electromagnetic communications.”

Keah rallied her CDF ships as well. “You're right, Z. They haven't noticed us yet, so this is our chance. I say we let the Shana Rei bastards have it with everything we've got. It is supposed to be a surprise attack, after all.”

Zan'nh didn't hesitate. This was the reason they had come. “I agree.” He transmitted to all of his warliners. “Prepare laser cannons and sun bombs. We will blanket their ships and hope that it hurts them.”

“Hell, let's hope that it
kills
them.” Keah called out to her ships, “Commanders, bombs away!”

The CDF ships and the forty-nine warliners opened fire on the unsuspecting Shana Rei. Laser cannons blazed with a flash and crackle, weaving a tapestry of coherent light inside the void. Gunports spewed out sun bomb after sun bomb, hundreds deployed even before the first ones detonated, all of them targeting the ill-defined cluster of crushed-spider artifacts. Purifying light flared out in a cascading shout; blaze built upon blaze.

The Solar Navy ships wheeled about as sun-bomb detonations seared across the void. “General, I suggest we pull back to a safe distance so we can assess,” Zan'nh said. “We don't know the consequences of what we just did.” His warliners withdrew with all possible speed, so they could watch.

The CDF ships raced after the warliners as they withdrew, and General Keah gave a long, loud whoop of delight.

 

CHAPTER

101

TAMO'L

As the attack on Pergamus continued and the black robots tore into the research domes, Tamo'l remained alone in her isolated facility. The robot attackers had not found her yet … or maybe they were intentionally ignoring her, since the Shana Rei had already contaminated her.

Tamo'l felt sick, certain that the dark mental link through her mind had drawn the attention of the shadows. They had slithered into her thoughts, forced her to reveal the countless disease specimens kept at Pergamus. That was why they had invaded here. She could feel it.

Overhead, the shadow cloud knotted the poisonous sky, and tendrils of darkness reached down to smother what remained of the medical facility. Tamo'l could feel an icy hollowness in her heart, knowing she wouldn't survive. Even with her supposedly impervious halfbreed genetics, the Shana Rei had found a way inside her. They had looked through her eyes. They had used her hands and her mind to find the secret stockpile of death.

Nearby, a research dome self-destructed with a silent bright flash of searing gamma rays that annihilated everything within the blast radius—disease specimens, personnel, and any black robots in the kill zone. In her own dome, she could see the countdown dropping to zero. Within minutes her lab would be vaporized, too.

At least she wouldn't be able to cause further damage.

Just before the shadow cloud covered the domes like a giant hand, Tamo'l saw the skies filled with battle, swirling robot ships and flashes of weapons fire as a lone vessel tried to escape—Tom Rom, she wondered? Probably.

Then she experienced a moment of confusion and surprise when other creatures appeared high overhead—swift and swollen, bloaters in their flying phase with flat wings outstretched. The bloaters soared in and around the creatures of darkness, like birds of prey harrying the encroaching black nebula. The Shana Rei recoiled and fought back, but the bloaters were relentless. The strange flying creatures seemed to intimidate even the shadows.

Tamo'l glanced at the countdown. In less than a minute she would be obliterated in an instant of purifying light.

She had been born a halfbreed, developed as part of the Dobro breeding program. To make amends for the horrors she saw there, she had devoted her life to helping the leftover misbreeds, certain that they possessed some spark that the rest of the Ildiran race didn't see. She had accomplished much for them … but not enough. Tamo'l had never imagined she would become a pawn of the Shana Rei.

She longed to know what had happened to Mungl'eh, Gor'ka, Har'lc, Alaa'kh, Pol'ux, and all the others. Had they all gotten away from Kuivahr, as Tom Rom promised? Or had they, too, been absorbed by the shadows there?

Half a minute left on the countdown. She gritted her teeth and drew deep breaths, preparing herself.

A fourth laboratory dome went down with a flash and a thump. All the deadly specimens would be eradicated in a pitiless but necessary annihilation. She knew the robots and the Shana Rei would not capture these diseases to unleash upon the Spiral Arm. Everything in Pergamus would be gone—along with her.

But the shadow cloud had a mind of its own. Formless black arms reached down to the last of the laboratory domes—her dome. Tamo'l could feel the shadows like obsidian spikes in her mind as they roiled in with a sinister swiftness. She felt them reaching around and into the dome … coming for her.

Tamo'l became airborne and disoriented, engulfed in a protective bubble. She screamed and tried to escape, but she had nowhere to go. Only seconds remained in the countdown—but the shadows had her now. They had her mind, they had her
thism
strands, they had her telepathic connection with Rod'h.

She heard her brother's mental shout, cursing the Shana Rei, howling in his own pain and despair.

Then the inky pseudopod swept her away, stealing her into the shadow cloud even as the sterilization systems vaporized the dome where she had done her research. But Tamo'l was no longer there. She knew that the entire research station and disease library was destroyed, nothing left but radioactive rubble and contaminated scraps that would do no enemy any good.

Even as it retracted, the shadow cloud still fought against the merciless harassment of the flying bloaters. The black nebula collapsed, and then the entire shadow cloud withdrew into its own universe.

Where they were already under attack!

Tamo'l found herself in an empty sensory wasteland, a black entropy bubble where she drifted without any context at all. She despaired—and then she saw her brother.

Rod'h groaned. “No, not you! They should have left you alone.”

Tamo'l was glad to see him, but her joy was snuffed out like a small flame in the wind. “At least now we're together,” she said, “and safe.”

Gigantic lights of another nearby battle slashed the protective shadows, a powerful attack … here in the void.

“Safe?” Her brother's voice came from a great distance. “I am sorry that you are here with me—but maybe we can fight in a different way. Together.”

 

CHAPTER

102

MAGE-IMPERATOR JORA'H

Even inside the Prism Palace under the seven suns, Jora'h was lost in dreams of a darkness that rose up inside his mind. He didn't even remember falling asleep. He and Nira had been attending a lavish midday meal surrounded by noble kith, court functionaries, and attenders. The bright sunlight seemed unduly harsh, grainy, as if molecules of blackness speckled the air around them.

Jora'h remembered looking at Nira. She had smiled at him, said something about Gale'nh, her son … and then the Mage-Imperator lost her. He lost himself. He found himself alone in his mind, swimming through a crisis, entangled and strangled by the lines of
thism
that should have been a safety net. Instead, the cords turned dark, like razor wires that swept around him, capturing his arms and legs, wrapping tight around his torso. Other strands encircled his neck like a garrote.

Jora'h knew he was dreaming, but that didn't help him escape.

Far out in deep space, he could feel the throbbing strength of the awakening cosmic mind. He could sense the squirming pain among the Shana Rei as their dark nebulas collapsed and the shadows retreated into the dubious safety of an unreal void. But the creatures of darkness fought in any way they knew how.

As their shadow clouds were crushed into newborn stars, the Shana Rei struck out in other ways. They pressed for any weakness, any chink in the mental armor of the Ildiran race. Somehow, they knew how to find Mage-Imperator Jora'h.

From within, the darkness swelled and engulfed him. He was drowning in a black static of shadows. He thought about Nira's son Rod'h, captured by the Shana Rei and placed in an endless agony of isolation that he could not endure, yet somehow did. He caught an echo of Rod'h's screams, as well as Tamo'l's, but as he responded with frustrated outcries that had more to do with his own helplessness than with any actual pain, he knew Rod'h couldn't help him.

Instead, he struggled to find Gale'nh, who had once successfully resisted the shadows and was possibly immune. But Jora'h was helpless—and the shadows had him.…

He woke to shouts and astonishment. The blackness cleared from his vision like a dark veil ripped away, exposing him to blinding light. He felt weak hands flailing at him, beating against his arms, and he saw that he was standing over Nira. His hands were locked around her throat. He was squeezing tight, strangling her. Her eyes bulged out; her lips were dark and discolored, and she twitched, no longer able to fight.

He recoiled, tearing his fingers away to release her, lurching backward and staggering against the wall. Nira dropped to the floor as if her joints had become liquid. She gasped and sobbed, sucking in air as she crawled away from him.

Jora'h saw blood on his hands, blood on his robes—and he looked up to find Muree'n and Yazra'h both there, holding up crystal-tipped katanas that were also dripping with blood. They directed their pointed weapons at him, their faces frozen with uncertainty and fear.

They were ready to kill him!

Jora'h sprawled backward onto the polished tiles, lifting himself on his elbows to face them. He heaved great breaths.

Yazra'h stayed Muree'n from delivering a death blow. “Wait.” The two warrior women gripped their weapons, ready to strike him down if he flinched. Three other guard kithmen had dragged a panicked Prime Designate Daro'h into an alcove, surrounding him with drawn weapons, ready to fight against anyone who might try to kill him—against Mage-Imperator Jora'h, if he became wild and murderous … again.

Jora'h saw that the courtiers, attenders, and noble kithmen inside the Prism Palace chamber lay dead, slaughtered. He saw a broken weapon, a long table knife, lying next to him.

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