The Web and the Stars (42 page)

Chapter Eighty-Seven

Enhancements and extensions are always possible, but only within certain frameworks, which can be quite large. Ultimately, when the eye has seen as far as it can see and the mind has stretched to its farthest reaches, eternity and infinity only exist in the imagination. The paired concepts are artificial constructions, and not reality.

—Tulyan Wisdom

At first the knocking sounded distant, as from many kilometers away, or from a nearly forgotten memory. Noah straightened in the big chair, and blinked his eyes open. The louvers were drawn over the two windows in his room, and across the large sheet of glax in the door. Under the circumstances, with the perpetual darkness of living underground, he had tried to bring as much outside light into his quarters as possible through the glax, albeit the artificial illumination of the chamber that contained the barracks and his own private section.

Most peculiar, though. He saw blue light around the edges of the door. Rubbing his eyes, he stared, and heard the knocking again. “Noah, are you up?”
Tesh.

He shuffled over to the door and opened it. She wore a blouse and slacks, and her entire body glowed blue, as did the clothing.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, looking him over. “Did I wake you?” “That’s okay,” he mumbled. “I had to get up and answer the door anyway.” She smiled thinly at the witticism. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m blue this morning.” “The thought did occur to me.” He felt concerned for her. “Something wrong with your magnification system? It’s not dangerous to you?”

“It’s just a color I selected for my energy field,” she said. “We Parviis can do that, and blue is the way I feel.”

“Melancholy, you mean?”

She nodded and said, “You look terrible, Noah. Your eyes are sunken and tired, and you have dark shadows under your eyes. Out all night drinking?”

“Hardly, but I didn’t get any sleep. Long story.”

“I’d better go, and let you rest.”

“Don’t. I’m all right.”

With a gesture and a yawn, Noah invited her into the compact room, which had been designed in the manner of a ship’s compartment where space was at a premium. High walls were filled with shelves and cabinets, and some of the furnishings served dual purposes, with fold-down tables and a settee that converted into a bed. Too tired to even hit a button when he got back to the room, he had not activated the bed.

As Tesh entered and took a seat at a small table, she said, “I’m blue because I’ve made a difficult decision, one I don’t feel entirely good about.”

He felt his pulse jump. “The starcloud trip?”

“Good guess.” She chewed nervously at her upper lip, couldn’t seem to come up with the proper words. The blueness vanished, and she sat there dressed in white.

Watching the Parvii woman, seeing the turmoil on her lovely face, Noah’s mind spun. Her words could mean two things. Either she didn’t feel good about having to reject the request from Anton and Noah, or.…

He didn’t dare hope, almost didn’t want to know the answer.

Looking away, Tesh acted as if she could not bear to utter the words herself, as if she didn’t want to hear them from her own lips.

Shambling over to the table, Noah touched a brown button on one edge, tapping it twice. A mocaba-juice processor popped out of the wall and within seconds it started brewing and filling two cups with steaming, dark beverage. He smelled the rich aroma.

Feeling the need to fill the air with words, Noah changed the subject. While talking, he handed the mocaba to her and sat down beside her at the table. He told her of his second dream trip into Timeweb, and of all of the layers he saw out there, the wondrous galaxies.

“They are like the pages of a great book,” she said, “the Story of the Galaxy. My people have a saying: ‘Each layer is like a different version of the same reality, like the colors of a sunset shifting slightly, moment by moment.’ “

“So many mysteries,” he said.

“No Parvii I have ever heard of, and no Tulyan, has ever mastered all the mysteries of the cosmos. Perhaps if you gain control of the ability to come and go in Timeweb, you will see more than we ever have. Some things cannot be taught; they must be experienced.”

Lapsing into a long silence she sipped her coffee, didn’t seem ready to say whatever was really on her mind.

“Unfortunately there is much more,” Noah said. He told her of his cosmic battle against Francella and the later bloody, final confrontation. “It was as if she died twice,” Noah said. “First her spiritual self and then the physical, one after the other.” Several minutes had passed since he had poured the mocaba juice. He dipped a finger in the cup to test the temperature, then took a long drink of the lukewarm beverage.

“How awful,” she said. She kissed the reddish stubble on his cheek. “I’m so glad that you’re all right.”

“I’m not really all right,” he said. “Part of me didn’t want her to die. I … I hoped we could be like a real brother and sister some day, despite all that had occurred between us. With Anton’s involvement, and what he was telling me about the nice things she did for him, I thought she might be changing. It was like the way I felt about my father. He and I had been estranged for so long, and then there was a glimmer of hope. But he died.” Noah hung his head. “Now I’ve lost both of them.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I appreciate that.” With what must be a pained expression, he looked at her.

“We’re both a mess this morning,” she said. From the sharp glint in her eyes, he thought she might be ready to tell him.

In a husky whisper, hardly able to get the words out, she said, “I will take you and Anton to see the Tulyans.”

He felt elation but suppressed it, out of concern for her. The reason for her own sadness was obvious. She had made a courageous and momentous decision, choosing the Guardians and the welfare of the galaxy over the interests of her own people. It must be the hardest choice she had ever made.

“You are destined for greatness,” she said, “and I will not stand in your way.”

“But you are not a timeseer,” he protested. How can you say that about me?”

“You are destined for greatness,” she repeated, this time in an eerie, almost synthesized voice that sent a reverberating shudder through Noah’s body. Deep in her eyes, he could almost see the entire universe cast in an emerald tint, galaxies on top of galaxies, stretching all the way back to the beginning of time.

Chapter Eighty-Eight

It is the most important thing I have ever done. On this event, the entire future hinges.

—Doge Anton del Velli, private notes

As Webdancer split space and emerged into the Starcloud Solar System, Tesh guided the podship toward the globular pod station floating in the milky void. Sunlight filtered through the mist. She judged it was the middle of the day in this region.

It had taken her almost thirty minutes to negotiate the journey across space, at least three times the normal duration. Suddenly the way was blocked by many podships with large Tulyan faces on their prows. At the same moment she sensed something inside the sectoid chamber with her. Looking around, she noticed a faint vapor that sparkled a little in the air, like tiny metallic particles. It dissipated quickly.

Ahead, the vessels parted and permitted Tesh to steer through their midst, into the main docking bay of the station. As Noah, Anton, Tesh, and an entourage of Human and robotic Red Berets disembarked and passed through an airlock onto the walkway, they were approached by a group of Tulyans.

Another podship pulled into the docking bay and moored. Noah recognized Eshaz’s face on the craft, but in a matter of seconds the flesh of the podship morphed and smoothed over. Presently Eshaz walked out of the vessel, emerging from a hatch in the side of the hull.

The web caretaker first greeted Tesh, and the two of them spoke cordially for a moment. “I saw you in the sectoid chamber,” he said, “and told my friends to let you through.”

“I sensed something there. A faint metallic vapor. That was you?”

He nodded.

“We have different powers, you and I,” she said. Gesturing toward Anton, she added, “The Doge has urgent business with your Council of Elders. He could not send you a nehrcom because your people don’t have them, and he didn’t want to use Zigzia and the web.”

“It is too important,” Anton said, “so I wanted to come here personally.”

“What business do you have?” Eshaz asked.

“I prefer to only say it once,” the merchant prince leader said. “Can you take us there directly? It is most urgent.”

“As you wish.”

During the shuttle ride, Eshaz told them that the Tulyans had been busy, and had wrangled an additional five hundred wild podships, giving them more than nine hundred in all. Eshaz reported that no Parvii-piloted ships had been seen out on the web thoroughfares at all, and he theorized that Tesh’s people must still be holed up in the galactic fold, not coming out for any reason.

“Your fleet is growing,” Anton said.

“Hunting has been made easier by the absence of competitors,” Eshaz said, “though we don’t know how long that will last.”

“I’m not a Parvii anymore,” Tesh announced. “I’m a Guardian.”

Noah smiled gently. His brown eyes were filled with appreciation and compassion. He and Tesh exchanged slight smiles.

Showing his own appreciation, Eshaz nodded to her. He went on to say that Tulyans had recently seen other mysterious podships out in space, traveling much slower than regular Aopoddae. “They must be defectives,” he said, “mutants of some sort, and a large number of them. My people, piloting our own podships, cannot form any kind of telepathic link with the unusual creatures and cannot see inside, even though we have always been able to do so with other podships, while piloting one of them.”

“They may be clones,” Tesh said, glancing over at Noah.

“I had a paranormal experience and saw inside them,” Noah said. “The vessels are operated by Hibbils.”

“Hibbils?
But why?”

“Perhaps we can sort it out together,” Anton said. “The sooner we pool our resources against whatever forces are at work out there, the better.”

Later in the day the Council of Elders gathered to hear the important visitors, inside the floating, inverted dome of the Council Chamber. Looking around as he entered the large central room, Noah noted that the audience seats were packed with Tulyans, murmuring to each other in low, excited tones. Robed Elders began to take their seats at the high bench.

The floor beneath Noah was a clear material, through which he saw filtered sunlight, with podships tethered in the mist. He took a seat at the front with Eshaz, Anton, and Tesh.

“Who will speak first?” one of the Elders said.

“That’s First Elder Kre’n,” Eshaz said to Noah. “Some say she’s as old as the galaxy itself.”

Rising to his feet and stepping into a designated circle on the floor in front of the bench, Doge Anton del Velli wore a formal dark-blue cape and suit that he had brought along for the occasion. He held a liripipe hat in his hands. “I’m going to get right to the point,” he said, in a firm voice that was carried throughout the chamber by the enhanced acoustics of the circle. “On behalf of the Merchant Prince Alliance, I propose a military joint venture between my people and yours, to attack the Parviis in their nest. I know you have traditionally been a non-violent people, but I am told that you did mount an attack against Parvii swarms who were gathering against you, and you scattered them in disarray.”

“An unfortunate situation,” Kre ‘n said, scowling.

“But necessary,” Anton said. “Now help us finish the job. My military forces are the finest in the galaxy. With your fleet and the telekinetic ability to control comets and meteors.…”

“Our telekinesis works best in the starcloud,” the old Tulyan said, leaning forward and looking down sternly. “Mindlink still functions away from the starcloud, but in a much diminished form.”

“All the more reason to join forces with me. I can fill your ships with soldiers and war materiel.”

“It is one thing to defend our sacred starcloud, and quite another to mount an aggressive military campaign far across the galaxy.”

“Your ancient enemies are regrouping,” Anton said, “and they’ll be back, trying to accomplish what they could not before.”

“Then we will drive them off again.”

“Maybe, and maybe not. In any event, why wait for them to come, and why take the chance that they might succeed, using ancient, more powerful weapons? We need to annihilate them in their galactic fold, preventing them from causing more harm.”

“These ideas trouble me,” the First Elder said.

“We live in troubled times,” Anton said. “But I ask you most urgently to consider the merits of my proposal.” The young Doge bowed and swept across his knees with the hat, then returned to his seat.

By pre arrangement Noah followed him to the speaking circle. Standing tall, with his voice strong, he said, “I have had a number of remarkable experiences, spinning across the cosmos in my mind, taking incredible mental journeys. It is all impossible, of course, but seemed real to me each time. Later I came to realize how authentic the cosmic experiences actually were, on a level unknown to any other person of my race.”

As he spoke, Noah noticed all of the Elders leaning forward, listening to his every word.

Taking a deep breath, Noah continued, “Something highly unusual has happened to me, but I have never considered it power, not in any sense of the word. Perhaps it is an ability, or a talent, or just a freak cosmic connection. Whatever it is, comes and goes. No matter what, even if I had full control of myself in Timeweb and I could accomplish meaningful things in that realm, I would consider it a
responsibility
to the entire galaxy, not something I do for selfish reasons.”

He met Kre’n’s gaze, and added, “Just as your people consider it a responsibility to take care of the web.”

“We have heard many stories about you,” said the largest Elder on the bench, looking very intense and severe as he sat beside Kre’n. Earlier, Eshaz had said his name was Dabiggio.

“I am here to second the request of Doge Anton,” Noah said, “and to tell you this. For the sake of the galaxy, all podships must be returned to their rightful custodians, your people. It is not a matter for diplomacy, though we have considered this option at length. Since time immemorial, Parviis have controlled a vast fleet of podships. It is what they do, and what they think they were born to do. I don’t think they will move aside for the sake of anyone, and certainly not where their mortal enemies are taking a central role in using the podships. Instead, we need to strike the Parviis hard and recover the Aopoddae. Tesh says the Parviis are ill and weak, but may be recovering. And—they have more than a hundred thousand vessels.”

As Noah spoke, some of the Elders stepped down from the bench and walked around him, looking down at him closely. The large aliens made him uneasy. Even the shortest of them was still half a meter taller than he was, and all of them weighed several times what he did. Finally he asked, “What is it?”

For more than a minute, the old Tulyans said nothing, and a hush fell over the entire chamber. Looking around, Noah noticed a certain deference toward him on the faces of some Elders … but Dabiggio and others seemed to regard him with suspicion.

“There are many legends among my people,” Kre’n said, “and one of them concerns a Savior.” She placed a large hand gently on Noah’s shoulder. He felt her rough, scaly skin against the side of his neck, touching bare skin. “You may be the one,” she added.

Noah did not particularly like what she had just said. Tesh’s earlier comment bore some similarity:
‘You are destined for greatness.
’ First from a Parvii and now from a Tulyan … to his knowledge, these were the only two galactic races that had ever dominated podships.

Am I really the first of my race who has been able to do it, too?
he wondered. /
think I am, but what if I am not? What if there have been others in the past.…
He paused in his thought process, when it occurred to him that he might be a genetic mutation that would continue into the future, from his own offspring. Yet another galactic race, or subrace.

If the galaxy survives.

But he thought his special ability might be gone, since he could no longer enter Timeweb voluntarily, and of late had only been able to gain entrance through his dreams. It was as if two dimensions were rubbing together at the time-and-space nexus of his life, sliding him into and out of each realm.

Still, Noah sensed that he had not entirely lost the ability, and that it lay dormant somewhere deep inside, verified by the dreams. One day, the skill would resurface again, but only when he was ready to receive it.

But the suggestion that he might be a Savior was an aspect that terrified him, one that he did not feel equipped to handle. Gazing up at the rugged, ancient faces of the Elders and at the audience around the chamber, he wanted to announce that he was not anyone’s messiah, that he was just one man, and he would do the best he could.

As Noah considered this, he noticed that most of the Elders had returned to their seats, but First Elder Kre’n remained behind. Now she said to him, in a husky whisper, “I just read your thoughts.” He had almost forgotten that she was still touching his neck, but now he became aware of it, and remembered what Eshaz had once told him, that Tulyans could read minds this way.

When she withdrew her hand, Noah felt sudden panic, and a swooning sensation.

“Don’t say what you’re thinking to them,” the Tulyan leader urged, still whispering. “Let those who think you are the Savior continue to believe. It makes them more likely to authorize the military venture. Only time will tell if you really are the one. You don’t even know yourself.”

Reluctantly, Noah nodded. Kre’n returned to her own position on the bench.

Noah continued, speaking passionately. “At this moment in galactic history, there is a critical need for unity between Tulyans and Humans and cooperation on an unprecedented scale.” The great chamber had fallen silent, while everyone listened to his words.

“I don’t know the full extent of my abilities, or why I’ve been placed here at this time of terrible crisis.” He paused and looked around the chamber with a determined expression. “Truly, I can only tell you what is in my heart, something your First Elder has ascertained with her touch. We must move forward together and survive … or die together. Doge Anton is right. We must form a military joint venture and attack the Parvii Fold.”

Whispering filled the chamber, and Noah concluded his remarks.

After he resumed his seat between Eshaz and Anton, the Council engaged in a brief debate among themselves, speaking in low tones on the other side of the bench. There was a good deal of whispering, and periods when the Tulyans read each other’s minds by touching hands.

Finally, the Elders resumed their places at the bench, but this time they remained standing.

In a somber tone, the First Elder looked at Doge Anton del Velli and announced, “We agree to form a military partnership with you. Due to the pressing need to regain our relationship with the sacred Aopoddae fleet, we see no viable alternative.” She cleared her throat. “We will provide podships and pilots for the enterprise, while the merchant princes will provide weapons, fighters, and the military commander in chief.”

“That is satisfactory,” Doge Anton said, rising as he spoke.

“I must emphasize that we were never masters of the sacred fleet,” Kre’n said. “Instead, it was a cooperative arrangement between two sentient races for the well-being of the entire galaxy.”

“May I propose a name for our joint assault force?” Noah asked, standing beside Anton.

Kre’n nodded.

“The Liberators,” Noah said. “It will be our mission to rescue podships and return them to you, for the stewardship and maintenance of galactic infrastructures.”

“We are not inspired by such designations,” Kre’n said, with a slight smile, “but it is known that you Humans are. Very well, for the purposes of this mission, we shall be known as the Liberators.”