The Exalting

by Dan Allen

  “Got it. We’re blind and deaf.” He let out a slow breath. “How the heck am I going to find her? A bunch of them have been disappearing into the mountain—probably some kind of enclave. That’s going to be a bugger to find an entrance to—and not a great place for first contact. I need her alone.”

  “Speaking of . . . did you miss me the last day on the shuttle?” Angel said.

  “No.”

  “Not even a little bit?” she said in a playful voice.

  “Are you—what is your current tease setting?”

  “Do I have to answer?”

  “It’s too high. Bump it down.”

  “Fine. How are your buttocks feeling?”

  She was referring to his crash landing, he realized. With teasing suppressed, protection instinct was the next highest priority.

  “Sore, thank you for asking—oh, is that what I think it is?” Jet peered at a highlight in his reticle. “I’m picking up a thermal trail. There’s a vent, and another one. That’s got to be the kazen convent.”

  “Now what?” Angel asked.

  “Write a report and send it orbit-side.”

  “Done. What else?”

  “Now we wait. Wake me up if anyone goes into or out of that hill.”

  A voice sound from behind, talking in Xahnan.

  “How did you get here?”

  Jet whirled around, cursing under his breath. How in the destroyer’s name had someone snuck up on him?

  Even more shocking was the fact that the person standing in front him was the renegade. Her swagger was just as obvious up close as it had been from the satellite pictures. She stood with both hands in fists.

  “You are not of my city.”

  Angel’s translation of her words appeared in his display, but he didn’t need to read them. Those words he understood well enough.

  “I am not of your world,” Jet answered. “I have come to save you. You’re in danger.”

  That was as much of his pre-prepared speech as he could remember.

  Rather than back away, the renegade took two quick steps forward. She was just an inch and a half taller than Jet, though he far outweighed her .

  “You are not—” she began, then stopped as she peered at his neck.

  Jet slowly unbuckled his helmet and removed it, placing it on the rock.

  “You have no sifa.”

  “No sifa.” He held up his hands and spread his unwebbed fingers. “Surprise.”

  Her eyebrows narrowed. “What are you?”

  “A marine.” Too late, he realized the word meant nothing to her.

  “Where did you come from?”

  “Er, basic training.”

  That she seemed to understand. “You are a fighter.”

  “Yes. Like you. My name is Jet Naman.”

  The girl’s sifa pressed tighter against her head and the back of her neck as if deflated. He assumed that meant she didn’t trust him. “I’m Dana, formerly of Norr.”

  “I watched you from the . . . up,” Jet pointed to space. He had forgotten the words for heaven and stars. A smile tweaked up from the edge of his lips. “We are alike.”

  “Alike?”

  “We stay alive.” He had meant to say they were compatible because they were both survivors, but in the moment none of the Xahnan words were coming to mind.

  “I don’t believe you.” She raised her hand to do something possibly dangerous.

  “Wait.” He held out his wrist and toggled its small screen on. In a few clicks he selected the fleet registry. “This is my thing for crossing the . . .”

  “Stars?”

  “Yes.” Jet chose the flagship, and a 3-D image of the Excalibur appeared, complete with glowing purple ion engines.

  “By the Creator . . .” Dana whispered. “What is that?”

  “Technology,” Jet said. “Like your mechanodrons, but more . . . good.” Sophisticated was the word he couldn’t find.

  The lowest two of her sifa slowly extended. Jet wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a very bad one.

  “And I have a mechanodron mind in my helmet,” Jet added.

  She made a scoffing expression.

  “My people have no kazen—no adepts. There is no sign of the Creator or his power. We have questions. And we have crossed the . . .”

  “Stars,” she said again, reminding him of the word.

  “Yes. We crossed the stars to find the answers.”

  The Xahnan drifted one step closer.

  “We found seven worlds beyond our own, all with creatures like us.”

  “And Xahna?”

  “Including Earth—my world—Xahna is the ninth.” Jet said. “We think there are three more. The last is the home of the Creator . . . we hope.”

  “The legend of the twelve worlds,” she whispered. “It’s true.”

  “Yes,” Jet said, a little of his swagger coming back into his expression. “We came on the star . . . things. And I chose you for first seeing.”

  Dana smiled. “You came looking for me?”

  “Yup.”

  “You were looking in the wrong direction.”

  I’m new here, obviously, Jet thought. “I’m not the only one from the stars. There’s another sky thing coming here from Torsica. Here in twenty or thirty minutes.”

  “From Torsica?”

  “Yes. Our enemies reached Xahna before us,” Jet explained. “They seek only money and power.” That was a phrase he had seared into his memory.

  “That explains why they went to Torsica. They must have contacted Vetas-ka.”

  She was quick on the uptake.

  “Our rangers should be able to detain anybody without sifa,” she said.

  Jet shook his head. “These are simuloids.” He searched for a better word. “Like mechanodrons. Only they look like Xahnans.”

  “Mechanical beings?”

  “Yes.”

  “Our adepts won’t be able to sense them.” Her gaze drifted skyward and then turned to Jet. “What about you? Can your,” she paused, as if trying to remember a word, “. . . tech-ogy detect them?”

  Jet lifted his helmet. “It sees warm things. I can maybe see them. But not in a big group.” He looked at Dana. “What do they want here?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I am about to become the ka of Shoul Falls. Our bloodstone is the only one that rivals Vetas-ka’s.”

  Jet snapped his fingers. “I knew it. So you are the only thing between him and controlling all of Xahna?”

  “Yup.”

  “Hah. That explains a lot.” Jet rubbed his chin. The simuloids were perfect for killing a ka. “How soon can you do this . . . ka change?”

  “As soon as I get back to the sanctum. But the exalting ceremony will take several hours to complete. Once I have united with the bloodstone, I will have the combined will of everyone in Shoul Falls. I can summon fire or lightning and destroy them all.”

  It was true. “So a ka is a god.”

  “Goddess. The will of my power comes from the people of the city.”

  “Well we don’t have time. They’ll be here too soon. You could hole up in the sanctum while you make the change, but their sky boat has weapons that could destroy your entire city in a few minutes—that would destroy your ka power. We have to destroy the simuloids.”

  Dana crossed her arms. “I don’t understand. If those simuloids are so powerful, why would they serve Vetas-ka?”

  “Our enemy—ASP—would rather deal with one ruler than fighting cities. It’s better for trade.”

  Jet’s helmet gave a short buzz. “Sorry, someone is calling.”

  * * *

  The man buckled his helmet, and a glass piece slid into place over his eyes. He spoke in a strange language.

  Dana leaned closer. The helmet was actually speaking back to him, making sounds in his ear.

  “What is making those words?”

  “It’s like a mechanodron mind,” he said. “It wants to talk to you.”

  Dana laughed. �
��Your helmet?”

  He lifted the helmet and handed it to her.

  Not one to be outdone by a star-man, Dana took the helmet, turned it over, and then dropped it on her head. The fit was awkward, given that it wasn’t designed for someone with sifa. The next moment a voice spoke in her ear, in perfect Xahnan—not Jet’s broken speech.

  “Good morning, Dana. I am Angel, a machine intelligence created to protect Jet Naman. I am very pleased to make your acquiantence.”

  “Well, she’s a lot more polite than you!” Dana exclaimed. “This is—how is this possible?”

  “I put power in it,” Jet said. “With sunlight.”

  “Sunlight?”

  Jet nodded. He wasn’t going to try to explain photovoltaic cloth.

  “It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Jet reached out, putting his hand on her forearm. “I’ve seen four worlds, Dana. Trust me. You are the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “That was the worst line I’ve ever heard.”

  “What—no. It wasn’t that bad.”

  “It was terrible,” said the voice in the helmet called Angel. It paused, then said quietly, “Jet hasn’t told you he came here to die.”

  “What?”

  “He usually leaves out the important things.”

  Dana turned aside and spoke softly. “What do you mean ‘he came to die’?”

  “Hey—what is this, girl-talk time?” Jet said. “That’s my AI.”

  “It was prophesied that Jet—and many others—would die defending Xahna. They must fall before Xahna can rise again.”

  “Are you a prophet?” Dana asked.

  “No, but I know one,” said Angel.

  “I want to speak to him,” Dana said.

  “It’s a she,” said Angel. “And she will not be here for twenty days, when the rest of our small fleet arrives.”

  “Twenty days? But Vetas-ka will reach Aesica before then.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Jet interrupted.

  “I’m talking to Angel,” Dana replied curtly.

  “She only knows what I tell her,” Jet said.

  “Obviously not—she knows a bad line when she hears one.”

  Jet chuckled and looked over at a nearby stream. “Man, I wish I could drink from that.”

  “If you want to die,” Dana said, in a serious tone. She pointed to the helmet. “Can I keep this?”

  Jet’s jaw went slack. “Uh, no. It’s government property.”

  “He’s jealous,” said the Angel. “Let him have his helmet back. We can talk again later.”

  Dana sighed. “I think you’re amazing.”

  “Thank you,” said Angel. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  “Well, you’re certainly welcome,” said Dana. She lifted the helmet off her head, careful not to ruffle her sifa, and handed it back to Jet.

  “What was that all about?”

  Dana ignored him and pointed at his tube-ended weapon. “Is that the thing you used to hurt those marmars?”

  “Yes. It’s a gun. It throws small heavy . . . things very fast. I used . . . nice ones on the marmars. The others kill.”

  “How far can it shoot?”

  “Two of your miles.”

  “Ka of Xahna,” Dana whispered. “How is that possible?”

  “Gun powder.”

  “Ah, alchemy.”

  “Simuloids conceal these weapons called ‘guns’ in their bodies,” Angel said, from the helmet’s external speaker.

  Dana nodded. “So they can kill before we get close.” She looked at Jet “How many more ‘marines’ are there are on Xahna?”

  “Just me. I have some friends in a small sky boat flying around Xahna. The rest of the Believers won’t arrive for three more weeks. The enemy fleet arrives three months after that.”

  “Can we win?”

  Jet breathed out heavily. “We sort of can’t.”

  Dana shrugged. “We’ll find a way. Let’s go. We need to reach my kazen.”

  Dana hurried over the rise and followed the small stream toward the city.

  Other worlds.

  It was no wonder she had seen them when she took the viper’s embrace. They were coming. All of them. All at once. And Xahna was to be their battleground.

  If there was ever a time they needed a ka, it was now. But there wasn’t time.

  A presence touched her mind, probably Remira. It felt like a lost thought returning.

  “Are you safe?”

  Yes. But I can’t come now, Dana thought, conveying each word as clearly as she could. I have a visitor from the stars. The legends of the other worlds are true. And their enemies are—

  Jogging beside her, Jet suddenly looked up and cursed in his language. “The dropship—it’s here already.”

  There was black speck in the distance. But it was approaching much faster than an airship.

  “I thought you said twenty minutes?”

  “They must have taken a transorbital trajectory.”

  “A what?”

  “A sky hop. I didn’t think they would be in such a hurry.”

  “We have to reach my kazen,” Dana gave a mental command, and her stolen greeder came bounding out of the trees. “Get on, space boy.”

  Chapter 32

  The greeder knelt without any tugging on its reins. Jet buckled his helmet and climbed on quickly behind Dana.

  As the greeder bounded down the hill, Jet tried to hang on. His only chance now was to stay with Dana. He didn’t have enough firepower to deal with a dropship.

  The ASP ship had to have burned its orbital insertion boosters to reach them that fast. It was now stuck on Xahna.

  They had to be desperate if they were burning their insurance policy. And now he knew why.

  Dana was the key to the resistance. She was the only thing standing between Vetas-ka and total control of Xahna.

  “Angel, what is going on? Why didn’t Decker warn us? Any of the satellites should have seen it.”

  “Decker is over the horizon already. And here is a hole in our surveillance coverage now,” Angel said, tactfully not speaking in Xahnan. “A fairly large one. I dropped a satellite on Torsica, remember? You told me to.”

  Decker wouldn’t orbit back around to this side of the planet for another sixty minutes. And there was no guarantee he would even have an orbital approach to this site, since he wouldn’t know they needed his help until he came around the horizon. Odds were, he was two full orbits—three hours—from helping them.

  “Black space.”

  “What did the Angel say?” Dana asked.

  “She was trying to blame me. Happens a lot.”

  By the way her sifa shook, it seemed that Dana found that amusing. “We’ll take the steam-wagon road. It’s faster than the woods.” She pointed east, down the slope of the hill.

  But the dropship was approaching fast. Jet could already make out the bulbous fuselage and stub wings. Soon the tilting turbines within the wings that provided its low velocity lift would be visible.

  The city was still miles away.

  “We’re not going to make it,” Jet said.

  “We have to try.”

  “It’s going to take more than than just trying.” That dropship model he knew from combat on Talaks. It was armored with a chain gun turret on the underbelly that could chew up half a moutainside of marines in a few bursts. Not to mention the possibility of tactical nuclear strike if he really ticked them off.

  “I need a plan, Angel.”

  “Working on it.”

  “We’ll have help,” Dana said. “The other kazen are on the way.”

  Jet wasn’t sure what Xahnan magic could do against a a thousand hypervelocity rounds a minute, not to mention whatever crew of simuloids or AI mechs it was carrying. “Angel, figure in a few of Dana’s ninjas,” Jet said.

  “Couple of Xahnan kazen,” Angel said. “You got it, babe.”

  “Wait, did you just call
me ‘babe’?”

  “What’s a babe?” Dana asked.

  “She does not have permission to do that. I’ll check her settings later.”

  “Angel, you can call him whatever you like,” Dana said. “Just help us destroy that thing.”

  “Hey, who is giving the orders?” Jet said.

  “Seeing as I’m about to be a goddess, probably me.”

  She had point.

  The dropship vectored to a clearing directly between Jet’s position and the city, the dropship’s turbines roaring as it slowed and landed in matter of seconds.

  “It’s possible they know where we are,” Jet said. “They have good optics on that ship.”

  “Spyglass lenses?”

  Jet was impressed. She was picking up vocabulary she’d heard only once. Xahnans were remarkably adept at language acquisition, it seemed.

  What made it so hard for humans? They were worse than even dense Wodynians. Slightly better than Rodorians, but that was little consolation.

  At least we invented space travel first . . . second. Close second, Jet thought. Tesserians were first. And we invented cheeseburgers.

  Of course, cheeseburgers tasted better with Avalonian bat chicken patties.

  Jet hung onto Dana’s waist with one arm and held his gun with the other as Dana angled toward the downhill side of the dropship’s landing zone. It was a longer route to the cliffs concealing her convent, but there was more tree cover. The exposed steeper uphill slope would have been suicide.

  “They certainly did land close to our position.” Angel said, this time speaking in Xahnan and using the helmet’s external speaker. “And between us and the sanctum.”

  “Not good,” Dana said. Both of them were targets ASP would be glad to have their hands on. Jet because of his inside knowledge of the fleet and their plans, and Dana for her stone.

  Jet had yet to see it, and he supposed that wouldn’t change.

  “Shall I deploy the dragonfly drone?” Angel suggested.

  “It has an eye?” Dana asked.

  Jet nodded. “And about three hundred yards flight range before it has to recharge.”

  “Recharge?”

  Jet searched for words she would understand. “Get power from sunlight.”

  Dana looked back with a sly grin. “Well. I can do better than that.”

  * * *

  At Dana’s urging, a flock of steel-eyed swallows took to flight and fanned out over the far side of the hill beyond the view of her natural eyes.