Hidden Empire (28 page)
Dio’sh clenched his fist and held it out in front of him. Vao’sh could feel a deep horror growing within him. Raised under
constant sunlight, surrounded always by comforting crowds, the Ildiran people had two primal phobias: fear of darkness, and
fear of isolation.
Dio’sh continued, seeing nothing but his memories. “Crenna has a large moon, so that even during the night hours enough light
shines down upon the landscape. We lit every home, every street, so that our central town was filled with illumination. We
managed to drive back the shadows—but what good are all the torches in the Empire, once a disease robs you of sight? After
the plague struck him blind, the Crenna Designate stood in the square and stared directly at the sun, but still he saw only
blackness.”
Purple and green patterns of dismay and horror rippled across his lobed features. Vao’sh shuddered but made no comment, filing
away every word. He could picture the Mage-Imperator’s son, the Crenna Designate, sightless, staring up into the blazing sun.
That would make good drama. This section of history would be recounted and modified until the final, permanent words were
chosen and entered into the
Saga of Seven Suns
.
“We do not know how the sickness began. On Crenna our scientist kithmen were mainly agricultural specialists, not bacteriological
researchers. Within days of the first recorded case, a dozen more people fell sick—and then all those who tended the victims
also succumbed. We have never known a plague so virulent, so contagious, and so deadly.
“Through the
thism
, every person in the town could feel the victims’ growing terror as the retinal damage progressed and the first sufferers
fell blind. We knew that we should quarantine the colonists—but how could we look at a sick child,
a blind child
, and tell him we must leave him alone, isolated from the comfort and support of our people? That seemed worse than the disease
itself. After the blindness, the nerve damage spread to other parts of the body until finally the lungs could no longer breathe,
the heart could no longer beat.”
Dio’sh drew a shuddering breath. “Then the Crenna Designate died, cutting off our direct link with the Mage-Imperator. Even
the small comfort of
thism
was then weakened. How could we endure? With each death, panic increased, our numbers dwindled, the
thism
frayed further. Soon, we were well below the critical number for a splinter.
“Those of us who were healthy locked ourselves in the few remaining homes, but even then we made mistakes, and the plague
got inside. We burned the victims, hoping that the fire would at least symbolically return the light.”
He looked directly at Vao’sh, as if begging the master historian to rewrite the tale. “We didn’t know what to do! We were
paralyzed, and the plague continued to spread.”
Vao’sh touched his comrade’s wrist. “That is enough for now, Dio’sh.”
He swallowed hard, his thoughts spinning. He knew the Crenna plague and the abandonment of an entire colony must become a
vital part of the
Saga
, yet Vao’sh hesitated to include too many horrific details, fearing that it might cause a panic.
“Perhaps you should accompany me in a little while,” he suggested. “We will tell a happy story, the Tale of Bobri’s and the
Silver Ball. The children enjoy that one, and I love to entertain children. You will find it refreshing, as well.”
Dio’sh looked hesitant, intimidated. “I prefer to be quiet, close to people, but not interacting with them. I would not be
a good entertainer now. Perhaps I can serve a better purpose as a scholar.”
Vao’sh frowned, and his disapproval cast stern colorings on his fleshy flaps. “Other kiths cannot recall every detail as we
do. The
Saga
is written down, but as rememberers, Dio’sh, our true purpose is to spin tales and to educate. To bring the legends and history
alive. Do not forget it. All Ildirans can hear the songs and imagine the tales, but
we
must be the presenters. It is who we are.”
Dio’sh’s shoulders slumped. “It is who we are, though sometimes it is a difficult thing.”
T
he Ildirans had turned tail and fled from Crenna, leaving their colony up for grabs. The Hansa had paid a substantial fee
to the Mage-Imperator for clear title and the unchallenged right to settle there, within the accepted boundaries of the Ildiran
Empire. The Hanseatic League considered the already tamed planet a remarkable prize; the Mage-Imperator considered the unexpectedly
large payment a boon.
Clearly, neither race understood the other.
After medical researchers and microbiologists had tested the Ildiran blindness plague and declared that humans were immune
to the scourge, Terran transport ships landed on the world. Volunteers had filled out their applications long ago, prepared
to dash off to a new home as soon as another planet became available.
Official Hansa policy encouraged expansion by securing a foothold on numerous worlds and fostering population increases on
already settled colonies. Suddenly, for the first time in civilized human history, people had all the room to expand and all
the resources they could possibly need. And, being humans, they did their best to make use of what was available. Every scrap
of it.
After the first transport ships disgorged the wide-eyed settlers, Davlin Lotze maintained a quiet though interested scrutiny
of everything around him. He joined the first group of eager colonists in the ghost town of Crenna, acting like all the others,
though he had a special mission of his own.
The gaudy Ildiran warliners had hastily evacuated the Crenna system, crowded full of frantic survivors. When rushed and frightened,
people made mistakes. They accidentally left important things behind. Chairman Basil Wenceslas, working through his operative
Davlin Lotze, was counting on that.
A second team of medical specialists had already gone into the evacuated town, analyzing the groundwater, studying local microorganisms,
and making certain there was no other local threat to the new colonists. Some studies had suggested that humans and some Ildiran
kiths could actually interbreed, in defiance of commonsense genetic rules; therefore, it was an ironic twist of fortune that
the blindness plague organism could not cross species lines.
Though uneasy with microbiological superstition, the new batch of settlers was perfectly safe. Davlin Lotze did not doubt
it for a moment, but chose not to reassure the others, preferring instead to watch their reactions. Interesting sociology.
He already knew a great many things that he would keep to himself, until Chairman Basil Wenceslas debriefed him.
The Chairman had assigned him to Crenna, providing forged papers that identified him as a simple colonist. According to the
dossier available to his fellow settlers, Davlin was competent in small-scale agriculture and had a handful of useful skills
such as woodworking, plumbing, and engine repair. The colonists happily accepted him as one of their group, drawn together
by an ambition to make a new home for themselves.
Aboard the transport ship, Davlin had made several acquaintances and would continue to develop those relationships, though
he would never allow any person close enough to call him a friend. He didn’t know how long his assignment would require him
to remain on Crenna. He supposed he would stay here until he found worthwhile material about the Ildirans.
Davlin Lotze was the Chairman’s handpicked “observer,” and he enjoyed the job. He knew what he was, though he chose not to
use the term “spy.” His experience as an exosociologist was not marked in his travel papers or résumés, but he had a special
ability to look at an alien culture, fathom its mysteries, and make sense of the exotic nuances.
The rushed evacuation of this colony provided Chairman Wenceslas with an opportunity to learn facts that the Mage-Imperator
might prefer to keep hidden. Davlin would compile reports to be returned to Earth with the frequent supply runs that would
be necessary during the colony’s first transition year.
A flotilla of laden ships finally landed in the rich but empty farmland outside the main Ildiran city. Personnel carriers
came down first, disgorging anxious pioneers who had sat still for too long during the passage. Next came ship after ship
of cargo transports containing equipment, supplies, and prepackaged housing units. It was a standard-issue “new-colony” drop,
though the previous inhabitants had done some of the initial groundwork for them.
During their journey to Crenna, the colonists had studied maps and analyzed satellite images. In open-deck meetings, they
had sketched boundaries and divided the arable land according to lots drawn by the settler families. When the vessels landed,
though, the people crowded out, rushing to see the town that the aliens had left for them. Many settlers grumbled to see how
much of the settlement had been burned in the Ildirans’ desperate attempts to stop the spreading plague. The new settlers
had hoped to use more of the existing infrastructure.
As the frenzied activity progressed, Davlin went to the equipment transport and powered up a heavy crawler. He knew how to
drive the burly machine, designed to haul crates and equipment into position for distribution among the colonists.
Three of the men he had met onboard were blustering and arguing with each other, pointing fingers and engaging in redfaced
shouting. It was no surprise. A system of dominance had to be established on Crenna just as much as systems for streets, water,
and food distribution. Though it did not show on his official record, Davlin was more educated than any of them, and he could
have been a primary leader. But his job was to stay in the background and learn what he could.
A tall man with large hands and narrow shoulders—though not enough muscles to make him intimidating—Davlin’s skin was deepest
brown, almost a true ebony, and smooth. He had high cheekbones and narrow eyes, and kept his hair trimmed very short. Two
pale, parallel slashes on his left cheek gave some people the impression that he wore the scars as tribal marks; in actuality,
he had suffered a bad cut from an exploding glass bottle in a friend’s abortive attempt at home-brewing beer.
Working with the heavy crawler, silent and competent, he drove crates into the middle of the Ildiran settlement. The new colonists
ran about like children exploring an unfamiliar vacation home. They looked at the unusual architecture and poked through all
the items the aliens had left behind, seeking hidden treasure. Davlin would have to keep careful track and confiscate any
technological items that might prove enlightening.
After he finished unloading the cargo transport, he parked the crawler in the town square and tried to blend in with the eager
explorers. With a hidden imager, he moved from building to building, studying what remained, photographing the architecture
from all angles. Visitors to the Ildiran Empire had already seen the basics of the alien buildings, but Davlin was most interested
in the private details.
He moved inside the communal dwellings that had not been burned to the ground. He opened storage racks and studied what the
aliens considered necessary for their daily lives.
The apparently guileless Ildirans did not seem to be hiding information from the Hanseatic League. In fact, they presented
themselves as allies and friends. But Davlin suspected otherwise—as did Basil Wenceslas. Their openness might be merely a
cover to hide information they did not wish the human race to discover.
Chairman Wenceslas had once told him during his infiltration briefing, “Know your enemy.” Here on Crenna, Davlin Lotze intended
to take advantage of the Ildiran tragedy. If this abandoned place held any secrets, Davlin would be the one to uncover them.
T
he diurnal cycle on Rheindic Co was twenty-eight hours long, but even with the extra four hours Margaret and Louis Colicos
never felt as if they had enough time out in the Klikiss ruins.
