Vendel Rising Omnibus

by L A Warren

  “Sire, do you wish me to escort Lady s’Lissa?”

  “No, Mr. Tusel, you get to spend the rest of the day with Lady s’Lissa. I’ll tow her along for now. She seems to be a bit overwhelmed.”

  “Yes, Sire.” Carek spared a glance at Elise, which she ignored. He kicked off and headed down deep. Gregor unwrapped himself from her body and led Elise by the hand.

  A few minutes later, Carek stopped at a set of four white shapes, each the size of a football. Dangling from the pods were long thin wires. Another man, dressed in a white immersion suit, spoke to Carek. She did not hear his words. He gave a nod to Gregor and the High Tender.

  Carek drifted around each of them, attaching the long noodles to their temples. Gregor continued to hold her hand. She pulled away and he released her hand with irritation. When she wrapped her arm around his waist and lifted his arm over her shoulder, he appeared to be soothed again. Elise twisted her foot around his ankle, and Gregor beamed.

  Carek remained impassive. He attached her leads last and she was finally able to hear the Conclave Master’s voice. Carek made introductions.

  The am-net conclave master appeared to be in his mid-forties. It was hard to tell exactly how old these people were. His brown eyes held the weight of age. A thin nose rested above a smiling mouth. The rest of Master Varlen was encased in a white immersion suit. Like all Vendel males, his physique was perfect.

  Perfect form. Perfect musculature. Perfect proportion. Tall, strong, muscular and lean.

  Weren’t they all? Except Gregor. He was all of that and more. Elise stole a glance at her black-suited master and sighed at his perfection. Then frowned as Shriek kicked her.

  He is not your boyfriend, sister. Remember what he is.

  You don’t understand.

  I don’t care. Your feelings for him are not real. Vendel biotech is at work here.

  Elise sighed. It feels real.

  Whimper spoke softly, I know. I feel it too, but we must never forget.

  Elise stiffened her spine, but it did nothing to strengthen her heart.

  Master Varlen, oblivious to her internal thoughts, gave her a welcoming smile. “Welcome to the am-net, my lady. What do you think?”

  He gestured expansively to the glowing purple liquid. In the distance, she made out white shapes flitting around.

  “It’s amazing. The entry…” she gave Gregor a squeeze and a private look, “was exhilarating.”

  “Really? Most people find it frightening,” Varlen said with surprise.

  “Most people probably don’t get tossed in while being held by their master. I wasn’t thinking about breathing, or drowning. Gregor was kind enough to distract me and it eased the transition.”

  Gregor chuckled.

  Carek’s brows turned down.

  High Tender Marcus grunted and shook his head.

  Master Varlen’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Yes,” the Conclave Master said, “it’s usually only a problem the first time. After today, you shouldn’t need help.” He pressed his hands on his thighs and continued in a rush. “Since we’re all finally here, I’ll let Mr. Tusel lead the discussion, unless Lord vlor’Vardhal would like to begin?”

  High Tender Marcus raised a palm. “I thought we’d start by showing s’Lissa what we know of the S’Lorek. Emperor vlor’Malita has put together his thoughts, covering what he feels is most important. I can take over after that and give an overview of the linking problem. Afterwards, the Emperor and I need to excuse ourselves for other business. Mr. Tusel can spend the rest of the day going over his theories. It might be a good time to bring in your WOR. That might give s’Lissa a more coherent picture of what we’re dealing with.”

  Master Varlen nodded.

  Gregor spoke, “Mr. Tusel, please load the program I sent over early this morning.” He turned to Elise. “Think of the am-net as one big simulation room. Not too different from what you remember from Earth. The images will unfold in your mind. Are you ready?”

  “Yes, Gregor,” she said. “What do you expect me to do?”

  “For now, not much. I want to show you to a few things. High Tender Marcus will give you a run down on the linking program. Mr. Tusel will drag you down into the details. Just like the past two cycles, listen, observe, absorb and learn. You do best when you don’t try too hard. Just relax. I’m here.”

  “Of course,” she said.

  Gregor’s simulation began and was nothing like the one Carek had played.

  Carek had shown her the humanity of the Vendel. Gregor showed her a civilization. Images of planets, cities, colony ships and mining communities flew past in a blur. Twenty-one planets zipped by in quick succession. After he showed his empire worlds, he flashed statistics. The parade of planets flew by again. Population numbers, projected growth, major import and export details spread before her vision. The vast colony fleets—miniature worlds unto themselves—sped by for the second time with all the pertinent data.

  Elise realized how limited her comprehension of the true scope of the Vendel Empire had been. She had only a vague image of her new home, but the sheer size of the empire astounded her. A sudden, awe-inspiring feeling overwhelmed her as she saw Gregor in an entirely new light.

  The empire entrusted to him was vast beyond her ability to comprehend. He was so much more than the man she thought she knew. It shamed her that she had never put him and his importance into context. Her impression had been confined to a rigid Earth worldview and then scaled down to a ship-sized slice of the Gambit. What a horrible mistake. He supported the whole of humanity on his shoulders.

  He put up an enormous diagram with the twenty-one worlds and all the fleets of the Vendel. A spaghetti array of glowing lights connected all the worlds together. He put names beneath the planets and letters under the fleets.

  Two of the planetary spheres winked out and went dark. The strands of light connecting them to the other worlds dimmed. She understood the interdependence of all the worlds. The statistics came back on screen and Gregor showed her the effect the loss of the two planets had on their sister worlds. Several fleets had also been dimmed. In the upper right-hand corner of the screen a number glowed in red.

  Twenty billion dead. Twice the number lost on Earth.

  Gregor didn’t think on a planetary scale. He didn’t serve individuals. Individuals could be sacrificed, so long as the empire endured. She finally understood a little of what Gregor faced and what he was willing to sacrifice for humanity. His passion for his people was palpable.

  Carek, on the other hand, saw the empire as a collection of individuals, each with their unique contribution and a story to be cherished. His passion for his friends was extraordinary. It explained why he had risked so much. Carek gave up his professed love to save the lives of his friends, his family, and strangers he had yet to meet. Her heart thawed a little towards him at this revelation, because she understood what he was willing to sacrifice to save his family.

  Gregor would sacrifice colony ships, cities, planets, all in his effort to save his empire. For him, it was the whole that mattered, not the individual.

  What a startling contrast between the two men.

  The simulation ended. The purple soup dissolved her tears, just like it had before.

  “That was the easy part,” Gregor said. “Opés, let me show you what happened to the people on Saphirah and Dunlaap. Those are the worlds the S’Lorek have visited. You will see what few have witnessed. These are the images sent back from the WOR.”

  Elise swam outside an underwater dome. She was s’Aartya, a WOR of the Third Rank. Darkness descended and the children paused in their game of chase. An odd sense of confusion and wrongness fell over the crowded dome and then passed. S’Aartya continued with her work. In the blink of an eye, the boiling seas came and went. Then she ceased to exist.

  On the surface of the planet, it took longer to die. The WOR tried to stabilize the city spires, but they toppled as great winds ripped through the atmosphere. The w
ave of blistering heat bubbled and peeled the skin off their bones before the bones themselves turned to ash.

  He brought her up to the orbiting stations, where the central Fourth Rank WOR watched the destruction. A massive ship, the size of a large moon had materialized above the thriving planet. A beam of devastation swept the world from the north to south pole. The cries of her fellow WOR, trapped in the firestorm, tore at her mind. She screamed for help, for her master to wake and deal with this disaster. S’Aniia sent a message to her fellow WOR moments before the S’Lorek ship turned its eye to the station. A wave of radiation annihilated everyone inside. The ship burst and twisted as superheated gases sought relief from the sudden pressure building inside. Elise felt s’Aniia die.

  “Oh, Gregor,” she sobbed.

  The twisted wreckage of the fleet ship repeated itself a hundred times over as Elise watched the same scene across the Vendel fleet. Gregor brought the view to Dunlaap.

  “Please, no more. I don’t want to see any more.” Elise opened her eyes. She twisted around and buried her head into Gregor’s chest. “Please, make it stop.”

  “I have more to show you, opés,” he said.

  “I don’t want to watch any more of that.”

  Gregor tilted her chin up to gaze into her eyes. His were dull silver and lined in pain. How many times he had witnessed the deaths of his subjects?

  He regarded her for a long moment. “Opés, I don’t like being at odds with you.”

  “I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes. It was a useless gesture. The tears weren’t there. “I’ll watch.”

  “You find it distressing, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “So do I.” He sighed. “I’ve watched these images again and again. Too many times. We’re no closer to understanding what or who the S’Lorek are than when the images first arrived. The only thing we’ve discovered is the path of these aliens. They’ll descend on Malbra within a few sun cycles of our arrival, if not sooner. Our estimate of their speed is a guess at best.”

  “A few sun cycles. You’re taking us to it?”

  “You would have me abandon my people?”

  “But, we’re not ready! The WOR aren’t trained.”

  A sad smile filled his face. “All the Second and Third Rank Earth WOR have been Bound to their masters. It’s the s’vlor who take time to train. I have only a few cycles left. We’ll be using methods designed to give results.”

  Elise knew what methods he referred to, and knew he was wrong to think it would help.

  They were not Vendel WOR. They were Earth WOR. His methods were having an entirely different effect on the Earth WOR than he intended. Every Vendel girl at least knew the possibility existed to be called to serve as WOR. Their concept of service was much different from that held by the women from Earth. For the Earth women, service as WOR was nothing other than enslavement, not some great honor. Gregor had made a huge miscalculation.

  “Oh, Gregor.”

  He was a fool.

  “Lord vlor’Vardhal,” Gregor said, “we’ll skip the Dunlaap feed and move ahead to your part in this.”

  Elise said a silent prayer of thanks. Gregor floated in front of her in the skin-tight immersion suit. She considered him from an entirely different perspective. A leader of worlds. A savior of humanity. He was much more than she’d ever considered.

  He truly cared about his people and he was scared. Gregor had admitted that several times, although she hadn’t had the proper point of view to appreciate what that meant to a man such as him. Gregor stretched out a hand and beckoned with his finger. Elise reached out and allowed him to pull her close.

  It was the High Tender’s turn. She could only imagine what he had in store for her.

  We can’t abandon them to this fate, the silent sister said.

  I know, but how do I save them and free the WOR?

  I do not know.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Gambit, Day 261

  High Tender Marcus took over the simulation. His crisp words filled Elise’s head with pain.

  “We charted the S’Lorek’s course after they attacked Saphirah. They went to Dunlaap.” The High Tender brought up a new simulation for Elise to watch and he continued his lecture.

  “We sent our s’vlor to Dunlaap, hoping to fight off the aliens or at the very least shield the planet and attempt an evacuation. We were unsuccessful on both accounts. Of the forty s’vlor, half of which were Fifth Rank, only twenty-two survived.”

  He turned to her, a look of agony scrawled upon his hardened features. It was almost as if he cared about those women. For a moment, she felt his pain, but then remembered what he was capable of inflicting with his braklav. That innocent looking, slim metal rod dangling from his wrist belonged to a devil.

  High Tender Marcus took in a breath of the purple soup and poured it out with his words. “When the S’Lorek turned their attention to the fleet, the s’vlor managed to hide long enough to construct a WOR-bubble. However, the effort at shielding and then forming the WOR-bubble burned out many of the WOR. The S’Lorek destroyed Dunlaap and moved on. The fleet endured, thank the gods.” His gaze lifted and met Gregor’s.

  A look of shared pain passed between the two men.

  Another gulp of the purple soup, another exhale, and his hard eyes turned to Elise. “The surviving WOR came out of WOR-space and sent back what they’d learned. I was able to see how they formed their WOR-bubble construct and the shield.”

  The High Tender scratched his head and the rotating mass of Dunlaap popped out of her vision. The dry scorched dirt held no life. Elise thought of Larkin and wondered if his mother had suffered as the S’Lorek killed her.

  “I had already been thinking of a way to link the power of the WOR together. What those at Dunlaap tried helped me put together this.”

  A new display bloomed into life. She recognized the Vendel depictions of the WOR-skill. Several errors came to mind immediately. Why the Tenders had put this together, and not the WOR, defied explanation.

  The blind teaching those with sight to see. The lurker, her silent sister, was not so silent anymore. But she still hadn’t identified herself. Ridiculous, the lurker said with a snort.

  The High Tender explained his theories and Elise followed his instruction, paying particular attention to the assumptions he made.

  It’s flawed, the silent sister said. Do you see it?

  Shriek poked her head out of the dark. She seldom came out when the High Tender was present. Flawed? How?

  Elise nodded. I see it. Malice, Whimper, do you see it too?

  Malice cackled in the dark, singing about silver loops and jump-jets.

  Whimper, however, paid attention, but remained silent. Of the five of them, Whimper was the least likely to speak up.

  Sometime during the High Tender’s lecture, Elise extricated herself from Gregor. She floated in front of the simulation and moved the wire diagrams around. The double vision of purple soup and sim-vision made her head hurt, but she felt driven to fix the errors.

  Elise ended the High Tender’s simulation with an irritated flick of her wrist, and drew the diagrams directly within the glowing liquid, not really knowing how, but doing it nonetheless.

  Hovering in front of her, she reproduced the series of holographic plaques from the High Tender’s office. After a few short minutes, she had the entire Tender depiction of WOR-skill floating in the soup.

  Directly front and center, the first skills of the Bar hovered. To her left, the five rows of the Rod skills aligned themselves in ordered precision. To the right, she began with the Wheel skills, laying them out in their expanding circles with the five spokes. These she allowed to rotate slowly around their central axis.

  She then took the diagrams from the High Tender’s demonstration and placed them behind her, enclosing herself within a box of WOR-skill representations.

  The men remained outside her construction and she had drifted some distance away. The tentacles conne
cting her to the floating orb, detached and dangled, forgotten.

  An answer floated just beyond her comprehension, elusive and tantalizing, teasing her with its presence without revealing itself fully. She could feel the pattern shifting as it struggled to come together.

  Her silent sister sat over her shoulder, nodding. Yes! Continue!

  I can taste it, Elise said. It’s right here.

  Be very careful, sister, the unknown sister said. What solution are we trying to solve?

  Go away!

  You need me.

  Who are you? Elise scratched her head. That line in the first skill of the Bar was wrong. She nudged it into proper place. The change rippled through all the skills.

  I am you. You are me. Call me Alex if it helps.

  Alex? Alex Comwell? You’re my ghost.

  Does it matter who I am? Alex hummed. I think this is a puzzle that will solve itself. But, do we really want all of them to watch? What are you fixing, Elise? The WOR-skill or the linking problem?

  Elise had forgotten the men and turned her attention back to them.

  The High Tender had gone silent.

  A dark furrow creased Gregor’s brow, but the corners of his mouth curled up, almost as if he were proud.

  She shivered at that and stopped fiddling with the WOR-skill. With enough time, and privacy—secrecy would be the key—she’d fix the WOR-skill.

  Elise remembered moments like this, back when she sat in her theoretical physics class. The answer to a particularly complex problem would hover out of reach. The solution unclear until suddenly it snapped into focus with stunning clarity. All that remained was the physical act of writing it down.

  She could do that with the WOR-skill, but not with them watching.

  It was too complicated to work out in her head. She needed the visual cues this soup afforded. Private time without the prying eyes of the High Tender or Gregor would be needed.

  One thing was certain, the moment she solved the WOR-skill inconsistencies would be the day she sealed her fate. It would pave the way for Gregor to complete the Binding Rite and take from her a most precious possession—her mind.