Land of the Dead (65 page)

“Do you really want to know?” Gretchen spread her hands. “You will find no ease to your worries!”

“Tell me.” Susan’s voice sounded stretched and brittle.

“The Crow found me on New Aberdeen,” Anderssen said, “and he needed help with something beyond his ‘capacity to evaluate.’
I
thought he needed my technical skills as a xenoarchaeologist—but that was a gravely incorrect assumption.
He
never said—he never does, you know?—what he expected me to do.”

“And you just came when he beckoned?” Kosh
ō
sounded disgusted.

Gretchen shook her head, all expression draining from her tired face. “No. I had been waiting for him, or someone like him, to come nosing around. After everything that happened on Jagan, when I came home empty-handed, without a bonus check from the Company, I found that my boy Duncan had been killed while working on a trawler in the Northern Cape Sea. That—”

She stopped, her attention suddenly far away from the medbay and the two officers. Susan waited, watching the subtle play of emotions on the blond woman’s face, until Helsdon stirred, looking at his commander beseechingly.

“Anderssen-
tzin
, we don’t have much time. Please tell us what the Hummingbird was doing here.”

“Oh.” Gretchen shook herself, grinding the heel of one palm into her left eye. “I have a recording, I think. My suit comm was on when he told me. You can hear it from his own lips.”

She tapped up a sequence on her field comp, and then slid the volume to three-quarters. The sound of static and harsh breathing filled the little room, and then the old Náhuatl was saying:
… the annihilation of the Prince, the Khaid, even the poor Ambassador and my own life in the bargain. A clean set of books—nothing falling into the Emperor’s hands to upset the balance at home—and time. Time we desperately need.

The recording stopped and Anderssen made a face. “We came here in little tramp freighters and mail-boats before the
Moulins
, which seemed like more of the same. Hummingbird didn’t have anything on his side but some fancy comps in a case, me—for whatever I was worth—and his own invincible self assurance. Do you hear him? He was hurt when he said that, and afraid—not of dying, no, but of failing at the task he’d taken upon himself.”

She stopped, running her finger across the navigational display. The
Chimalacatl
was already gone, torn to shreds as it fell. Comp projections showed the delicate balance holding all three of the brown dwarves was beginning to fail. In a hundred years, or a thousand, the entire rosette would succumb to the black hole and obliterate all traces of the Vay’en and their works.

“I thought,” Gretchen continued, “when I sent them down into oblivion, that I defeated him. But listening to his voice now, I think I did exactly what he wanted … even better than he could have managed himself.”

Susan made a soft, strangled sound. “He wanted the Sunflower destroyed?”

“More than that,” Gretchen replied. “He needed—or the Judges needed—to ensure that not only was the artifact obliterated—but everyone who had come seeking its power was slain, denied, or convinced it did not exist. The Prince is dead, the Khaid massacred, the Order Knights left with empty hands … we are witnesses to the immolation of the evidence. The nav plot shows that the entire Barrier will be swallowed up in time, pulled into the black sack and made to vanish.”

She laughed nervously. “Only three people remain who saw the heart of the structure, who know what happened there—me and an Order Knight who escaped, the one who departed in the
Moulins
. He will certainly carry the news to his masters—and I wonder how they will react?”

“They came well equipped,” Kosh
ō
admitted grudgingly. “The
Pilgrim
is the core of a full-scale squadron and seems more than capable of mopping up the leftovers of our ill-fated expedition. If we’re on the books to be marked off—we won’t last long.”

“If you give me to them, they will let you go.” Gretchen’s statement carried an odd weight of certainty. “I think they are very keen to know the fate of the Vay’en, and the
Chimalacatl
, and what transpired within.”

“That seems, to me, Doctor Anderssen, an excellent reason
not
to put you into their hands.” Susan offered a tight, bitter smile. “I am still an officer of the Fleet and the Emperor’s servant. If we escape, then duty requires that I report what transpired in this benighted place. It seems unwise to leave
all
of the witnesses in the hands of the Temple. But what becomes of you after we return—I cannot say.”

“It does not matter.” Gretchen’s expression was bleak. “I’ve done all I can. Like Hummingbird, my death or disappearance evens the books, leaving almost no trace of our passing.”

“Untrue.” Kosh
ō
lifted her chin, indicating the icons of the Templar ships on the plot. “They are still here—they have possession—but what do they gain from all this, Doctor? Are they now an enemy of the Empire?”

“No.” Anderssen scratched the back of her head, where a sore had developed from wearing her helmet so long. “They came seeking to ally themselves with something—with someone—they thought remained in this funereal place. Hummingbird alluded to needing
time
. He believed—and the Templars believe—some enormous calamity is fast approaching. One which we—humanity—cannot withstand without the assistance of the kind of powers which once dwelt here.”

Helsdon stiffened in his chair, fear stark in his features. “My God, woman, this place was built by a race with the power of the Gods! We won’t have this level of technology for thousands of years!”

Susan nodded in agreement, her complexion growing waxy. “Do you know what they fear? Do the Templars?”

“They believe they know.” Gretchen smiled sadly. “I do not. But I can tell you the Order Knights are being used, as you and I were used by Hummingbird, by
another
agent—another puppet master hiding in the wings, out of our sight. This seems to me a skirmish—an opening move—where greater powers than the Empire are jockeying for position on the field of combat.”

“These Vay’en,” Kosh
ō
said, after considering the Swedish woman’s words. “The Templars believed they were still alive, after millions of years? That they could be woken, or summoned? And bargained with?”

Anderssen nodded. “Yes. It is even possible they were right—but none of the Vay’en remained, only their machines and devices. Of course, given the disparity of power between us, I don’t think
bargained with
would be the appropriate term. Subjecting humanity to slavery and servitude—yes, that would have been the likely outcome.”

Helsdon glanced at Susan, who nodded, wondering what the engineer intended.

“Doctor Anderssen—what happened to disrupt the equilibrium of the system? Did—did
you
do something?”

Gretchen looked at him, seemingly puzzled, before saying, “Ambassador Sahâne attempted to harness the machine. But his exocortex was insufficient to the task. There was an interruption during the process—and what he intended did not come to pass.”

Susan’s forehead creased sharply. “Why was the ambassador here? Did he know something about the artifact? Did his race—these Hjo—know something?”

“
He
knew nothing.” Anderssen sighed. “But his race—yes, they had once served the Vay’en—long ago, they were servants, soldiers, bureaucrats … the linchpin of the Vay’en demesne. Like the Prince, like me, his presence had been
arranged
by those who set all this in motion. Three of us were needed to unlock the mechanism, so three were delivered by Hummingbird.”

Helsdon cursed under his breath, rubbing his palms on his thighs. “The Barrier. The
Naniwa
and the
Moulins
could reach the Sunflower because all three of you were aboard!” He laughed, a little hysterically. “All my work to identify the Barrier threads—for nothing! Good thing we didn’t get too close while the security system was still operational!”

“Wait—” Kosh
ō
’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “The builders of this place were obviously fond of threes and multiples of three. I can understand the ambassador, if his people had once been the servants of the Vay’en. But how did
you
and
Sayu
qualify as keys to the structure? You’re not Hjo!”

“I was.” Anderssen knuckled her brow-line with one fist, feeling an enormous migraine coming on. “Hummingbird had exposed me to that corroded-looking bronze tablet—let me use it as a comp—and the Vay’en ‘instructor’ within began to rewrite my neurology. The tablet led us through the Barrier—you saw the effects as it revised the ship’s interfaces and systems—the same was happening to me, though I didn’t realize it until too late. While I was under its influence, the
Chimalacatl
treated me as a Hjo as well.”

“And the Prince?”

Gretchen pursed her lips, examining Susan’s face with great care. “Did you care for him?”

“Me? For Sayu?” Kosh
ō
looked horrified. “He pursued me, momentarily, at Chapultepec when we were in the lower form. But I was not what he expected, so—nothing came to pass. After that, there was open rivalry between us, and—I must confess—he often came up short.” She paused, remembering. “Later he did better—after third year he seemed to collect himself. Then he was the popular one, the pretty one. Captain of the
Ullamaliztli
team—everything expected of a scion of the Imperial house.”

Anderssen nodded to herself. “Like me, he had an overlay which allowed him entrance, made him seem enough of a Hjogadim to qualify for the machine. I don’t think he realized, even at the end, why he was here. Whoever sent him must have known what would happen … but you know, Hummingbird was surprised to encounter Xochitl out here. Surprised when the big battleship arrived.” She ran her fingertips along the outside of her field comp. “You said the Crow
arranged all of this
—but I don’t agree. I think he was trying to manage a situation that kept escalating out of his control. Some of it—yes, he brought me here, he had something to do with the Templars being here—the rest? It seems doubtful.”

“He arranged—he arranged the Khaid.” Helsdon looked more uncomfortable than ever. “We’ve found traces in the comm system of t-relay activity between the
Naniwa
and the Khaid fleet during the fighting outside the Pinhole.”

“Ah.” Gretchen nodded, remembering. “I helped him assemble a t-relay when we first came aboard.”

“And he arranged for
Chu-sa
Hadeishi to be here.” Susan’s expression was positively glacial. “Both to further his own ends—and as leverage with me, if needed.”

“Yes.” Anderssen was watching the Nisei officer again and smiling faintly. “I didn’t like the Crow—hate might be too weak a word—but he had something in mind for you, Captain Kosh
ō
, and for me as well. You’d served with Hadeishi for a long time, hadn’t you?”

“Five years,” Kosh
ō
said grudgingly, regarding the archaeologist with suspicion. “What do you mean—
in mind
?”

“So you’d seen Hummingbird come and go over those five years, always dropping in unexpectedly, getting your ship and your captain into some kind of dodgy situation? Always on off-the-books business for the
Tlamantinime
?” Gretchen didn’t wait for a response from Susan. “He had the same pattern in mind for you, and for me. Once you had your own ship—this ship!—you’d be put on frontier duty, patrolling alone at the edge of cultivation—one step out into the darkness—with no support, no backup, and no oversight.”

She paused, running one hand through her tangled, greasy hair. Kosh
ō
looked like she’d swallowed a sour pickle. “Where is your political officer, Captain? Where are the Mice? I haven’t seen any—isn’t that
very strange
?”

“We—” Susan halted, considering. “I had assumed Oc Chac, my new
Sho-sa
, was the Mirror representative aboard—but you’re right, there should be a whole complement on a ship this size.” She glanced at Helsdon, who had retreated again and was swallowing nervously. “All of the other ships in the squadron were drawn from units tasked to support the Mirror science teams. They would have been crawling with political officers. But not us?”

“You see? The
Tlemitl
was free of them as well. Hummingbird mentioned at one point—I don’t think he realized I was listening—that the Prince’s ship had entirely new security systems—none like those used by the Judges, or the Mirror. I doubt that would have been allowed if there were proper political officers aboard!

“And after all of this business was done—if you survived—then you’d be sent off on patrol, and then
I
would be the one dropping in unexpectedly when
I
needed a ship for some dirty work.”