The IX (42 page)

“Is she capable of atmospheric entry?”

“Only for emergency landings, I’m afraid. Sorry, but she’s wholly configured for the solar environment. On the plus side, that does mean she’s equipped with a complement of shuttlecraft, side to side
and
orbital transport capabilities, and her hangar bay is huge.”

Mohammed turned to Saul. Eyes wide with inspiration, he gasped, “Do you appreciate what an opportunity this gives us?”

He spun to face the room. “Do any of you realize what this means?”

“Why don’t you explain your thinking?” Saul said quietly.

“If we can take possession of that cruiser, it means we have an option B. For the first time in an age, we’re no longer stuck on this Godforsaken planet. Hell, if we plan things right, we could even make a run for Earth!”

Oh no! You can’t be serious?

Mohammed’s words created a strong surge of feeling throughout the control room. Ephraim felt it too, along with an initial surge of panic. “Whoa, hang on a second,” he said forcefully. “Before we start getting everyone’s hopes up, I really must insist we sit down and talk things through.”

Mohammed frowned. “Why? What’s there to think about? Even with the iron, we’re still slowly starving to death. If we don’t do something, and soon, we’re done for.”

Ephraim decided to cut to the heart of the matter. Ignoring everyone else, he addressed Saul. “I can think of a number of reasons why we shouldn’t act rashly, all of which I will highlight in detail at our debriefing tomorrow. However, what everyone appears to have forgotten is the manner in which we were brought here. Remember, we weren’t just plucked through space. We were selected from different time references. There’s a temporal ingredient to our existence on this planet that could cause major waves if we went rushing back home.”

Ephraim paused to let the weight of his words sink in. After a moment, he concluded, “Don’t forget, theoretical physics is a specialty of mine, and a prerequisite of quite a number of my staff. Ask any one of us, and we’ll be able to regale you all day on why we just can’t risk the possibility of a paradox.”

A hush fell over the room once more, and everyone waited while the commander chewed over the rationalization of his chief scientist.

Eventually, Saul came to a decision. “Of course you’re right,” he mumbled. Addressing the rest of his colleagues, he spoke louder. “He’s right. This is something we simply can’t rush. You all know me. I’ve valued your insight and your guidance for a number of years now. And I always will.”

He turned to place a hand on Mohammed’s shoulder.  “And yours especially, my friend. But we all need to be involved in this. We can’t do that until we’ve been able to scrutinize the information available to us. Weighed the options. Discussed the risks. We’ve been presented with a marvelous slice of luck, and I for one don’t intend to squander it. Agreed?”

Saul gazed round the room, maintaining eye contact until everyone had nodded in reply. He worked his way around to Ephraim again.

“How long do you and your team need to interrogate the system and get us the facts we need?”

Thank goodness for that.
“If we work through the night? I’d say we could make an informed opinion by this time tomorrow. But I’d want everyone on it.”

“You have until the day after tomorrow, then. Be swift, but ensure your people are accurate. What takes place here in the next few days might determine not just our future, but that of Arden, too. I don’t want mistakes.”

Oh, great. No pressure then.
“I’ll get right on it.

CHAPTER THIRTY

A Focusing of Purpose

Whenever the inadequacies of his kind threatened to disrupt equilibrium, Angule, Prime Catalyct of the Unium, could be found here, within the Plane of Eternal Prisms. There was something about the manner in which reality splintered and refracted off into a multitude of possibilities that helped soothe the seething cauldron of rage within him. Sublime expression, as always, simmered just below the surface, and preventing its emergence, now of all times, was crucial.

Brooding, Angule reviewed the travesty of their last Moot, and did his best to maintain a dispassionate veil across his receptors.

What are they thinking? It appeared to me that they deliberately chose
not
to comprehend the value of parley.
To even contemplate unleashing the full might of the Host, unrestrained by dint or edict, smacks of a negligence deserving of ultimate immolation. Are the fools so blind as to think there won’t be consequences? Such a course is a travesty waiting to happen. And even if their fool’s errand succeeds and we seize our prize by force, there may be insufficient puissance left with which to elicit the regeneration.

The vext flared behind him. Angule hardened his shields and allowed his senses to wash across those who dared to intrude upon his solitude.
Raum?

Lega’trix,
Raum replied:
May we approach?

Angule’s scrutiny fell upon Raum’s companions; the new Praefactors, Mamone’sh and Orias. Having ascended only two rotations previously, the latest members of the Duarium were unaccustomed to the restraint expected of those gracing the higher circles. Their auras continued to stutter and flare in an alarming breach of etiquette.

Outraged, Angule’s indignation slapped against the efflux of their still evolving essences. Recoiling in alarm, both entities hastily erected their barriers.

My apologies, Great One
, Raum added, covering for their gaffe:
But now they are managing to achieve a semblance of purer lucidity, both Kresh have information they wish to share as a matter of urgency.

Information? Why do they feel it necessary to approach me with it now?

She paused to confer with her subordinates. The flames of their newly engendered coronets spluttered wanly under her interrogation. The exchange intensified, and a newfound focus and confidence allowed the fledglings to regain a measure of boldness. Their diadems solidified and blazed brighter.

Raum’s own aura bloomed. Turning her attention back to Angule, she stated:
As you know, both Mamone’sh and Orias were excluded from the Moot while their status unified. However, once blended to the Ix and apprised of the result, they were consumed by haste. They have intelligence regarding the fate of the lost child and feel you are the only one who can be trusted to react . . . accordingly.

Really?
His gaze fell upon the newcomers once more. Thinking aloud, he voiced a blasphemous opinion:
How unfortunate then, that the conclave was not delayed until you were ready. I feel the vote may have swung in the favor of sanity.

That is our consensus as well, Great One,
Orias expressed with reserved dignity:
Our constant attendance at the forbidding meant we
were able to witness the continued struggle of those who were lost. We shared in their conflict, and experienced firsthand their frustration and anguish. Felt the horror of being helplessly trapped and restrained. Tasted the confusing bile of insanity that threatened to strip them of substance. And yet they endured. And so, I speak on behalf of my Kresh brother when I say is it not a course of wisdom to ensure the survivor is given every opportunity to regain equilibrium? Especially when the source of his suffering now resides once more within the city? Will not his example inspire others, and lead all Kresh to salvation?

Survivor, you say? For sure?

Yes, Lega’trix. We are able to verify that one of the children was lost in transition. The other subsumed the essence of its sibling, persevered, and survived transformation.

Remarkable . . . And providential.

Feeling motivated, Angule made a snap decision:
Raum. Convey my regards to our supporters within the Unium and Duarium. Ask them to meet us within the Gulf of Tears at the end of today’s cycle. Whatever the cost, we must exploit this development with all haste.

*

Ayria sat back down in one of the easy chairs opposite the commander’s desk, and waited. She had just completed her part of what she obviously knew would sound like a fantastical tale of pure make-believe, and Saul could see the scientist within Ayria cringing in embarrassment.

He did his best to mask the disdain souring his expression.

 
“You can’t be serious? You want us to risk our lives, our very future, on what? A message sent to you in a dream?”

“I know how it sounds, believe me, but . . . but . . . oh, for goodness’ sake, Saul, this is
me
talking. I haven’t survived here this long, witnessed so many friends struggle through adversity and watched them die in front of me to lose it now on a whim. C’mon. You must realize how difficult it was for me to even come here? Don’t you trust me enough to at least consider what I’m saying might have some bearing on the weird events taking place around here lately?”

“You wouldn’t be the first to succumb to traumatic stress, Ayria. Like you say, you’ve lasted here longer than most. I can only imagine the pressure you’ve had to endure over the year—”

“Cut the crap, Saul. I’ve been a doctor for far too long to listen to you trying to smooth talk me with psychobabble.”

Fair point.

She turned to Stained-With-Blood, her expression pleading for help.

The seasoned warrior sat forward. He held the commander’s gaze without flinching. “I have seen many summers, Saul Cameron, both as a brave and a shaman of my tribe. You people from the future tend to overlook the fact that life wasn’t easy for those of us who lived centuries before mankind journeyed to the stars. In our lands, you either learned to adapt and survive, or you died. Fools perished even more swiftly. My very name should convey to you the kind of man I am, and why I have lived so long.”

Stained-With-Blood paused to ensure Saul understood his point before continuing. “To put things in perspective, let me say this. I am a dream-walker, not a miracle worker or a crazed loon seeking attention. My talents lie in that I am granted insight regarding the road that lies before us. It is Napioa himself, not me, who reveals the course we should take. I am not here to mock your beliefs, or lack of them. All I do is interpret the Creator’s guidance and allow it to influence my choices, and those faced by my tribe. So far—and I say this with all modesty—the Cree nation have been blessed. Past visions have proven unerringly accurate and by acknowledging them, not only have we, but many other tribes of the First People been well protected.

“It is a weakness of your era to see scientific development as progress. Sadly, in doing so, you have left behind the old ways that helped keep you in touch with the world and the greater cosmos about you. You forget. The universe would carry on regardless, whether you were here or no. Its cycles and rhythms are governed by forces that we will never truly understand. And sometimes, like it or not, it reveals paths to us in ways science cannot begin to comprehend. However, as you base so much of your belief on facts, shall we look at some now?”

Engrossed as he was by Stained-With-Blood’s narrative, Saul took a moment to reply. Hunching forward, he murmured, “Okay. I’d like to see where you’re going with this.”

Stained-With-Blood gestured toward Ayria. “It is a simple fact that two people, divided through time by thousands of years, were brought together in one place. The odds of such a thing happening are astronomical. And yet, here we are. Not only that, but Ayria and I share an unusual bond. Our veins happen to flow with the same blood—separated by centuries, yes, but possessing an identical potency nonetheless. I am a tribal elder, in touch with the world in which I live. She is a scientist, a doctor who has denied her birthright for decades. And yet, we have both received visions from the Creator, separately and in tandem, which share an unusual commonality. The uniting of two peoples into one, and the astounding way this will be accomplished,” he pointed to his tomahawk, which lay on the desk in front of Saul, “by the use of star metal.

“Now, I freely admit. Exactly how this will occur, I do not know. Neither can I comment on how these dreams tie in to the Ardenese plans for us. Is it all a coincidence, or part of a larger design instigated by a greater power? Therefore, I appreciate your turmoil. You, as leader, are responsible for our welfare, and much, much more, it would appear. The weight of two worlds hangs in the balance. You cannot allow personal preference to cloud your judgment, for your decision will have lasting repercussions. Therefore, I would ask you to respect this point.

“Just because you don’t understand something, doesn’t mean it isn’t right. Recall certain factors of our last encounter with Napioa. He manipulated the energies that cascaded out of a void. One very similar to those we have recently witnessed. Wielding such power, he transformed the seeds of already existing trees into something new. That this relates to the peoples of Earth and Arden is clear. Yet we see an inference that it may also relate to more. Why this reference to the Horde? How is the star metal to be employed? And why is Wind of the Sun to play such a pivotal role?”

Saul frowned. “Wind of the Sun?”

“That’s my tribal name,” Ayria explained. “Remember, although parted by many generations, I am a bloodline descendent of the Blackfoot Cree nation.”

“Ah, I see.” Saul looked between them for a moment, searching for similarities in their features. “And you think you’re both involved in this . . . these developments or insights in some way?”

Stained-With-Blood nodded. “From what Napioa has indicated, yes. The salvation of both, or should I say
all
races on Arden would appear to be bound together. That
we
were brought here for this very purpose is obvious. It is also clear that Wind of the Sun—Ayria—is a catalyst for the process by which unity will be achieved.”