Of Fire and Night (42 page)

105

BENETO

B
eneto had always been part of the trees—both when he was human and after his absorption into the worldforest. Since his rebirth on Theroc, he had shown the forest what it
meant
to walk, to move, and to live. The verdani understood much more about what it meant to be human now, to be a living independent being with sorrow and joy.

And Beneto understood many things, as well. Most of all, he understood that he had found the rest of his destiny. The worldforest mind had given him a new life, resurrected him to be a spokesman and intermediary with an understanding deeper than any green priest could achieve. It had also given him a second chance with his life, with his family. Now he would willingly pay the price they asked of him.

Encased within the verdani battleship, his wooden body sacrificed even its human shape. He was rooted once more. His carved hands fused like clay to the living wood that was energized with wental water. His legs melted into the forest tissue, and he sank into a swirling vortex of woodgrain.

Even as he grew into the structure of the massive treeship, he retained part of himself. Immediately after his rebirth, Beneto’s connection to the world and his beloved family had been tenuous and intellectual. Back then, he would not have hesitated to make the sacrifice. Now, though, he felt the loss to his very core. To his heart. Thus, so did the worldtrees. He would miss being alive. . . .

Aboard the swarm of new-grown verdani battleships, his fellow new green priest pilots were all symbiotically fused with their enormous tree forms. They had let their flesh-and-bone bodies be absorbed into the enfolding wood, while leaving their minds still alert, carrying human personalities. After a thousand years or more, they would begin to lose their individuality like those poignant ancient creatures who guided the original treeships. Though these volunteers were giving up a great deal, Beneto also knew how much they would gain. In the end, they would consider their sacrifices worthwhile. He was sure of it.

Outside, looking simultaneously forlorn and relieved, Solimar squared his broad shoulders and gazed up at the giant vessels—the seedships that had turned him away. Celli was with him, her dark eyes sparkling with tears. She was deeply sad to see Beneto go, and also happy for the parting gift her brother had quietly offered her.

Like so many green priests, Solimar had been enamored with the idea of joining a verdani battleship. He had volunteered to give up his life to become a pilot of a huge seedship, just as Beneto had done. Many green priests had offered themselves, far more than the hundred who were needed.

Though he was no longer entirely human, Beneto still knew his young sister’s heart. He had seen her and Solimar treedance together and understood their affection for each other. They belonged together. For love of Celli, he had not allowed Solimar to be chosen. The worldtrees listened to his heart, though it was clear the verdani did not entirely understand. But they had regrown him as a manifestation of the worldforest and of humanity; the sentient trees wanted to learn from Beneto and his memories. They listened to his love for his sister.

He had offered Solimar a legitimate explanation. As one of the few technically literate and mechanically inclined people on Theroc, Solimar was needed for his engineering knowledge. The other green priests were not irreplaceable, but Solimar possessed skills the Therons would need. The worldforest asked him to stay behind, and the new battleships accepted another green priest pilot in his stead.

And so, as volunteers had streamed to the hundred new battleships, the gold-armored trunks remained closed to Solimar, forcing him to stay behind. Celli realized immediately what her brother had done. She silently thanked him and did not tell her friend what she knew.

Now Beneto could concentrate on his new residence, his new mass, his new existence. This great vessel was an extension of his body. He could look out upon the forest—
all
extensions of the worldforest—through the simulated eyes of uncountable leaves. He saw the many colony worlds where green priests had brought treelings to form a communications network.

More than ever before, Beneto could feel all the memories, the secrets, the wistful experiences stored deep in the verdani mind. His thoughts flowed like sap through the intricate woodgrain, deep into the past. Beneto rode along with the lives of other green priests, his many predecessors all the way back to the first landing of the
Caillié
.

For the first time, he actually saw a spark of old Talbun, his devoted mentor from Corvus Landing. Long ago Talbun had asked Beneto to be his apprentice, to watch over the colonists and tend the worldtree grove there. In dying, the old green priest had let his flesh be absorbed into the forest; Talbun was here, too,
inside
the verdani battleship, inside all of the great trees. Beneto would not lack for company. With wooden lips, he smiled. He felt strong, confident, at home.

With the battleship as a conduit, amplified by the wental-infused wood around him, a thousand telink messages streamed through him. Beneto listened everywhere.

Thus, instantly and unexpectedly, he became aware of the long-lost green priest Nira Khali.

Beneto remembered the enthusiastic young green priest who had gone to Ildira with Ambassador Otema to experience the
Saga of Seven Suns
. But their treelings had been destroyed, cutting both of them off. After the former Mage-Imperator sent word that Nira was dead, no one, including Beneto, had found any reason to think otherwise.

Now the terrible truth swept over him with the speed and devastation of a forest fire. Nira’s thoughts and memories were unstoppable. Even the towering worldtrees in the thick Theron forests swayed and reeled with the revelations.

All at once, the scattered green priests received her experiences, the treachery, the breeding program, the secrets that Ildirans had kept. This sudden, shocking knowledge changed everything the green priests—and all other humans—had ever assumed about the Ildirans.

And there was more.

Because Mage-Imperator Jora’h had revealed it to Nira, her urgent message told of the forced alliance with the hydrogues and the impending attack on Earth. From within the huge battleship, Beneto comprehended what the Ildirans hoped to do, and how he must respond. Twists within twists. The hydrogues were going to Earth! The birthplace of humanity would be wiped out, unless someone else fought on their behalf.

This war was everywhere at once.

Around the Spiral Arm, green priests rushed the news to human settlers, but, abandoned by the EDF, the former Hansa colonists could do nothing to help Earth. And the Hansa military would never be sufficient to stand against the flood of warglobes that would soon bombard them.

Understanding what was at stake, Beneto imposed another command, drawing upon his human existence more than the wishes of the worldforest. “We will take twenty of the new battleships, including the one that I captain, and go immediately to help defend Earth.”

He felt a response ripple from the trees. They considered Earth a small part of the overall battle and didn’t want to expend part of their seedship force on a target they did not consider vital. But Beneto was adamant. “In spite of what its current government has done, that planet is humanity’s home. The seeds of our race came from there. Our roots go deep. Our hearts still remember the forests and jungles.” A flood of images rushed through telink, reminding the verdani of what was at stake. “We must save it.”

The affirmation of the other green priests resounded through telink, and the worldtrees capitulated. In his mind he also received a swift burst of information and a caution from Nahton in the Whisper Palace. The last intact ships from the Earth Defense Forces were prepared to face any attackers, and they would no doubt be trigger-happy. What would the EDF do upon seeing the ominous and unexpected verdani battleships? Beneto needed a way to communicate directly with them.

Seeing something he could do, Solimar hurried to the fungus-reef city to gather the components Beneto needed. In rebuilding the settlement, the good-hearted Roamers had installed new communications systems, traditional transmitters and beaming devices. While the hundreds of verdani battleships shifted and rustled impatiently, he dismantled one of the comm systems and brought it to Beneto’s giant ship. Celli followed him.

Beneto separated the armored plates in his thick trunk and created a passage for them to enter. He sensed them as they climbed up to the heartwood chamber, following the tunnels he made. Solimar carried the comm unit, trailing wires and a long-term power source.

He and Celli stopped upon entering the great chamber at the middle of the ship. Breathing hard, Beneto’s little sister looked at her brother with mingled fear, sorrow, and wonder. Solimar seemed uncertain of himself, his eyes downcast, his expression glum. Through telink, Beneto could read his feelings.

Physically joined with his carved pilot seat, a wooden throne fused with symbolic controls and guidance systems, Beneto moved his body forward, detaching an arm from where it had grown into the seat. “You see, Solimar, the worldforest required your skills as a human after all. Any green priest can join with a battleship, but I needed you to do this.”

The broad-shouldered young man looked disconsolately at the comm system. “To hook up this simple equipment? Anyone could have managed that.”

Celli was quick to scold him. “How many Therons understand technology the way you do? Name anyone else who’s built a gliderbike from scratch. Tell me who could maintain all those Roamer systems if you were to go away.”

“Someone else could learn.”

“Now no one else has to.”

Beneto indicated where he wanted the comm system. “If I can make contact with the Earth military, I can coordinate our fight when we arrive. At the very least, it will stop them from shooting at me.”

Her heart aching, Celli threw her arms around the remnants of her brother’s form. “I’ll never see you again, will I?”

His carved face smiled. “My body was never really here in the first place. But I am always part of the forest. Solimar can contact me—he knows how.” She seemed to take heart from that. “And now you must leave. Our ships are about to depart. There is a war to be fought, and won.”

Celli clung to him a moment longer. She always wanted to be seen as older and more mature, but at the moment she looked like the sensitive little sister he remembered from long ago. Beneto had many regrets for the things he had not accomplished in his second chance at life, but he also had many obligations to meet. Foremost, he had to join the final battle against the hydrogues at Earth.

He conveyed his goodbyes and his love, not only to Celli but also to their parents. She and Solimar hurried out of the giant treeship, and Beneto sealed the opening in the trunk, armoring himself for spaceflight and war.

Beneto stretched his new arms and felt his branches move through the air. His thorns and leaves extended upward into the winds of space. The huge branches were barely able to hold themselves up in the planetary gravity, but in open space they would stretch out to embrace the stars. All of the new battleships experienced the same reaction within their cores.

The Therons and the verdani were ready, as were the wentals and their numerous Roamer partners. This battle could be won after all! His thoughts thrummed through the interconnected worldtrees. “Our verdani seedships will not wait here any longer. We must bring the fight to our enemies, while the wentals launch their great offensive.”

It was time to go.

Beneto’s treeship was the first to lift off. With a tearing sensation followed by a wonderful sense of airy freedom, he uprooted himself from the soil of home. As he pulled away from the worldforest, his myriad verdani eyes saw the Theron people raising their hands, waving farewell. Through his enhanced vision, Beneto discerned Celli and Solimar, Mother Alexa and Father Idriss.

The other new organic vessels tore free of the Theron dirt and joined the rest of the forest battlefleet. Hundreds of spiny treeships rose together like a flurry of seeds showered into the sky, and moved beyond the boundaries of atmosphere.

They cruised between the stars, drinking raw sunlight. Beneto’s gigantic tree body was sealed by an impenetrable verdani force and infused with the life energy of the wentals. If he survived the war with the hydrogues, he could live for a very long time.

The enormous tree battleships headed out into space, dispersing toward countless simultaneous battlefields.

106

JESS TAMBLYN

W
hen he left Theroc, Jess knew that the hundreds of verdani battleships would do their part in the imminent battle—as would the wentals. If all was going according to the broad plan, Nikko and the rest of Jess’s water-bearer volunteers would be rallying Roamer recruits; many pilots should be flying to various central wental planets to prepare for their final push. Cesca would coordinate the whole plan, sending messages through the wentals to guide near-simultaneous strikes to infested gas giants across the Spiral Arm. The concerted attack against hydrogue planets would hit like a chain reaction. . . .

As the water-and-pearl vessel raced across empty space, heading toward Charybdis, through the wentals Jess instantly
knew
that something unexpected was out there . . . another ship. It hung dead in space, drifting. Damaged? Lying in ambush?

He approached cautiously, and soon identified the human craft—a large EDF scout, far from any star system. A lone figure floated outside, completing repairs to the external engines. Though the ship could have carried a small crew, only one person was visible.

When he saw the strange wental sphere coming toward him, the panicked man jetted into the open hatch. Detaching his helmet inside, the Eddie pilot scrambled into his control seat. Through the cockpit windowport, Jess could see he was an older black man, his close-cropped wiry hair dusted with smoky gray.

Jess cautiously hovered his alien vessel in front of the scout’s cockpit, standing at the outer skin of the bubble so that the EDF man could see that he was human. With a reassuring smile, Jess raised his hands in a nonthreatening gesture. He hoped the pilot wouldn’t fire a jazer blast at him. The other man stared in disbelief.

Drifting to the comm apparatus his water bearers had installed, Jess opened a direct channel, using one of the supposedly secret EDF frequencies that Roamers had discovered long ago. “I mean you no harm.”

After fumbling with his systems, the pilot responded on the same frequency. “I am Lieutenant Conrad Brindle on a scout expedition for the Earth Defense Forces. Who are you? What are you doing out here—and what kind of ship is that? Are you . . . human?”

“Oh, I’m human, and maybe a little bit more. How did your scout come to be damaged, Lieutenant Brindle?”

“Hydrogues!”

“Ah, so we share the same enemy.”

“I was doing recon at Qronha 3.” Brindle was clearly unsure of how far he should trust this exotic stranger, but he was so overwhelmed that he quickly broke down. “The drogues and the Klikiss robots are keeping human prisoners! They’re holding eight people hostage inside a gas giant.”

That seemed impossible. “How do you know this?”

“Direct video images. My son is down there. We thought he was killed by the hydrogues before the battle of Osquivel. But he’s alive and he’s deep inside Qronha 3!” Brindle shook his head. “How am I ever going to rescue him?”

Jess had heard of Qronha 3, but this made no sense. “Why were you scouting a gas giant in the Ildiran Empire in the first place? What interest do the Eddies have?”

“We lost sixty new rammers there. Commander Tamblyn led them on an assault against the hydrogues, but they just disappeared. My orders were to see if I could intercept a surveillance signal.”

“Commander
Tamblyn
?”

“Tasia Tamblyn. They picked her to lead the rammer charge.”

A suicide mission. Of course Tasia would have flown the highest-risk operation. The Eddies would have chosen her because she was a Roamer. Expendable. Eddies had always treated clan members like that.

“Commander Tamblyn is my sister,” he said. Surprised, Brindle looked again at the strange figure of Jess in his shimmering white garment and his alien water vessel. “Is she still alive? Tell me what happened to her. Tell me everything.”

While Brindle explained, Jess seethed inside his wental ship. If Tasia was being held by the drogues, then he needed to do something. Immediately. “Can you finish your own repairs to this ship?”

“Oh, the weapons just grazed me. I can jury-rig the systems, and I should be flying out of here within a day. I never assumed anyone would find me.”

Jess wrestled with the tides of anger and urgency. He’d been about to rally the wentals, send them off to hydrogue gas giants. All the players were now ready. But the drogues had captured his sister! He knew where he had to go first. The wentals would communicate the details to Cesca.

Jess prepared to set out, sending one last transmission. “Even after what the Eddies have done to our clans, Lieutenant Brindle, we Roamers are on your side. We’re fighting against the
real
enemy. Go back to Earth and tell your Chairman it would be best if he did the same. Meanwhile, I’m going to rescue those hostages in Qronha 3.”

Brindle was surprised. “If you’re going to try to rescue my son, then I’m coming with you.”

“I am going where you cannot follow. Deep inside a gas giant.”

“With the environment down there—the pressures, the poisonous atmosphere—it’s impossible!”

Jess cut him off, already preparing to depart. “Then by the Guiding Star I’ll have to do the impossible.”