CHAPTER 17 (ELIZABETH)
“We now have the reason for these rushed peace talks or at least part of the Scourge’s motivation, for they always have more than one kettle on the fire. The enemy will try to prevent our contact with the humans, and at the same time drive a wedge between various Conclave factions.”
I fear it’s mainly the second reason, rather than the first. While contacting Earth is important to us for commercial purposes, it’s hardly relevant for the Scourge war. On the other hand, dissension in our ranks has always been one of the enemy’s goals. I was painfully aware that my recent actions were the main reason the Conclave was split, that I should mend somehow my relationships with the Council queens and limit the scope for future discord.
“In retrospect, we should have expected something like this,” mused Reith. “We know that the enemy had a spy on Aldeea, the rogue adept you never caught. Humans’ arrival and their role in the siege were no secret, and by now the identity of your new avatar is a matter of public record. It doesn’t take much to assume where your interests and sympathies lay, and one can easily guess that most of the other queens have no reasons to share them. Not if they have to choose between the safety of the Dominion and the future of Earth.”
The third member of our coterie, Favriel Sen Galahad, confirms what I already knew too well:
“If these peace talks were genuine, if the Scourge were indeed ready to end the war, no Council queen would hesitate to make this choice. Not even me. And I believe you wouldn’t hesitate either, Ashar.”
“What about our fight for freedom?” I argue. “What about our moral principles, our shared belief that every race deserves to live in peace and be in control of its own destiny. This is what we fought the samun for, this was the foundation on which we built the Dominion millennia ago.”
“We live by this creed, and we protect the Dominion races by this creed. Yet the galaxy is a big place, and we can’t possibly defend each and every race out there, not against our own interests, not when our own planets are destroyed the way Nadellonia was.”
In seventy thousand cycles I didn’t argue with Favriel more than a dozen times, yet now I feel without any shred of doubt that her argument is flawed, that we can’t pick and choose the time to act in accordance with our moral compass. That in doing so we are going down a slippery slope, from one compromise to the next, until in the end we’ll be no better than the samun.
I’m saved of the need to continue this debate by Reith, calm and rational as ever:
“Fortunately, none of us will have to make this choice, because none of us seriously believe the Scourge are sincere in their peace offering.”
“Indeed, we don’t, and I doubt any other queen believes this either,” concedes Favriel.
I’m happy to move on, yet I can’t shake the feeling that I’ll have this argument again and again in the coming cycles. Are we becoming so arrogant that we see ourselves entitled to decide who’s worthy of our protection, who’s to remain free and flourish and who’s to be enslaved and die? Was Peter right the other day to question our moral grounds?
“The outcome of these initial talks is still the same,” I conclude. “The Council has effectively placed Earth under an interdict, forbidding any form of contact with the human race.”
“Temporarily so, until the enemy plot is unveiled, and hopefully we’ll have our chance to strike back.”
Competing with the Scourge in duplicity is never a good idea, yet somehow the Council believes they’ll have the upper hand. There is no point to insist. In any event, Favriel would be outvoted so there is nothing she can do even if she’ll be willing to try.
✽✽✽
Later on, I continue this discussion with Reith only. As far as the humans are concerned, my sister and I are on the same page.
“If the Scourge really intend to set us one against the other and cause serious troubles, they’ll have to threaten the human world for good. It’s the only way they can force me to act, for they need actions, not words, if they are to destabilise the Dominion. This entire charade would be useless to them unless they are sure they can find Earth, or they already did it.”
“We know each other too well to expect you’ll stand aside and let them have it.”
“You’re right, I won’t. Back on Aldeea, the Council asked me in unequivocal terms to take responsibility for the humans, for good or for bad, and this is exactly what I intend to do.”
My sister knows not to argue. My mind is set, and I can be very stubborn when riled. Besides, the humans are formally under our joint protection, doubly confirmed and dully registered with the Archives of Lore, so keeping our word is a matter of honour for the entire Sen’Dorien house, not just for me.
“How do you intend to go behind Council’s back?” she asks.
We don’t have Earth’s location and even if we did, contacting them would be in breach of Council’s latest pronouncement, not to mention the earlier Conclave vote. I’m sure I can wiggle my way around the rather vague Conclave amendment, but the Council’s promise to the Scourge was quite explicit.
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll find a way to do it. The first step is convincing our guests to point us in the right direction.”
I need to convince Koslowski that they must give us Earth’s coordinates. In the light of the latest developments, Earth defence against the Scourge is no longer a long-term issue but a very immediate concern.
✽✽✽
Even by Sen’Diessa standards, Merdun is an odd place.
Twenty thousand cycles ago, it was a tortured volcanic world, revolving around Edeira, Bellona’s outer gas giant. At that time Faun’s sister queen, Oriel Sen’ Diessa, had decided to reshape it completely and turn it into their permanent residence. The reason for her strange choice was not this moon’s hospitable climate, for Merdun was one of the worst places to live in the entire system due to its ever-shifting landscape and sulphur laden atmosphere, but its strategic location. Despite its serious drawbacks, Merdun had the advantage of being close to both the Diessa military shipyards and their household’s military base on Bellona.
When it became clear that the Scourge incursions will not stop anytime soon, Oriel undertook the task of upgrading the Dominion military and quickly turned into its Head of Operations, becoming known as the Warrior Queen. To save time when projecting her consciousness to oversee her various undertakings, she needed a place close to her military bases and decided Merdun would do. Oriel’s strength is in reshaping matter, so she simply reshaped the entire moon, quenching the fires in its heart and turning it into a basalt sculpture, surrounded by a thin atmosphere being held together by a solidified gas shield.
In other words, a completely artificial construct.
I announce myself upon arrival and head towards the Spirit Queen’s apartments. Even if the main reason for my visit is meeting Incene, the Sen’Diessa Seer, it wouldn’t do to come to Merdun and not catch up with Faun, no matter our recent disagreements. I’m in luck, and I come across not one, but two Council Queens
“Greetings, sisters!”
“Greetings, Ashar”, responds Faun, smiling thinly. Her avatar’s age shows, and each time I see her she looks worse, as if her duties are eating her alive. The Council’s mandate ends in three cycles, and she’ll probably need to give up her current incarnation immediately after.
Asturien Sen’Vollar clasps my shoulder in the attempt at an embrace, made impossible by our difference in height. When in private, the Queen of Light is a lot less self-important, and more of the war comrade I used to know.
“What brings you to my home, old friend”, says Faun.
It’s somehow odd to hear her calling me ‘old friend’, me in the early twenties, her well over one hundred, yet it’s entirely true. We trained in the same cycle as cadets, fought side by side during the samun wars and built the Dominion together. Maybe we haven’t been as close lately as we used to be, but I’ll never forget how many times she held my b
ack in battle.
“I wanted to talk with you about the current developments and visit some Sen Diessa acquaintances later. Finding you together is for the best.”
All true, just lacking in detail. Yet I don’t intend to tell my fellow queens anything about my reasons for meeting the Seer. Faun won’t understand and might even use the information against me at some point.
“The talks proceed as expected,” responded the aged queen. “The Scourge are lying, of course, but we’ve hardly expected anything else from them.”
As an accomplished Spirit wielder, Faun can tell up to a certain extent when other people around her are blatantly lying. Oh, it’s not a precise science, and there are ways to block a casual screening, but either the Scourge were not aware, or they didn’t care.
“Did you find anything about them? Is it even worth wasting your time?” I ask. Wasting her health as well, by the look of it.
“Small steps, my friend, small steps. We learned there are multiple Scourge factions in the Unifier’s camp, each veering for power. Some in favour of a truce, some opposed to it and set for our annihilation. Drud, the unrestrained brute, represents the war party apparently.”
“Would that make the other ship-world captain an envoy of those more inclined to find easier prey?”
“Yes, Hagan Far Sight belongs to the group who engineered these negotiations, and who apparently have Xandor’s ear.”
“A different brand of snakes, yet snakes nevertheless”, intervene Asturien.
“What about Garvald, their leader?”
“He’s the head of one of the Jael clans and one who prefers to keep his allegiances to himself. While loudly spewing his poison against some of us, you in particular.”
I wasn’t aware I was so popular with the Scourge. But then again, if their aim was to ferment discord, my human interest and looks were simply making me a convenient target. Nothing personal about it. To give them their due, the Scourge were equal opportunity backstabbers.
“It’s obvious they know much more about our inner workings than the other way around. Have we made any progress in identifying the rogues?”
“No, and it pains me to say that one or more of the traitors are coming from my house,” admitted Faun.
I knew that, of course. I’ve come across a strong Spirit wielder on Aldeea, and I never managed to read his identity. The traitor was acting through a proxy, so I’d never had a good feel for his eka signature.
“Fear not, my sister,” continued the host. “We’ll finish these talks, and then you can bring your human allies into the Dominion, the way you wanted from the very beginning. I only ask to be a fair arrangement for us all.”
Asturien nodded by her side. It looks Maurien has passed my conciliatory message, and it was well-received by my peers.
✽✽✽
If Faun is old, Incene Sen’Diessa is ancient.
One look at the Seer, and it became clear why Maurien had insisted I should visit her, rather than the other way around. Spirit adepts were long-lived as a rule, and Incene had pushed this truth to its limit. She must be close to two hundred, a shadow of a woman immobilised into a floating chair. Her eyes are still alive, though, her mind still keen.
“Welcome My Queen and forgive me for not being able to attend to you. Nowadays, it’s more and more painful for me to move around.”
I never knew Incene in her youth, but she must have been quite a striking woman. Her bearing was still regal, hers the proper greeting between two adepts of close rank, or at least the close one could get to a Haillar queen.
Which we were. As Seer of the Sen’Diessa, she must have been within the top five adepts in her house.
“Greetings, elmera! I’m the one apologising for imposing on your time.”
I don’t know her, but I use the endearing appellative for an older relative, an aunt. I’m quite impressed with her appearance, her strength. I don’t know if I would age so well, as I never lived so many cycles in one body. My avatars tend to die young, case in point Ellandra.
“What can I do for you, My Queen?”
“I need you to deep-screen my mind, elmera.”
She’s startled for a moment. Volunteering for a mind deep screen is an unusual request, especially from somebody in my position. ‘Unheard of’ is likely a more accurate description. Being subject to this procedure means laying bare the most intimate thoughts, the deepest corners of your mind. It’s a last resort solution, for somebody with severe mental problems, one step away from madness.
Incene doesn’t prove me wrong in believing her still sharp, as she immediately figures the reason for my request.
“Your mind doesn’t meld properly with your alien brain. You fear for your sanity in this unusual avatar.”
These are statements, not questions. The old adept has seen many things in her life, so hopefully, she’ll have some frame of reference. I see no point to waste our time, so I come closer and take a seat on a low stool facing her, our eyes not quite level but almost so.
Incene closes her eyes, and I do the same. I see her with my mind, a vibrant presence so unlike her frail appearance in the physical world. I see her attuning to me, not quite melding, but more like a gentle caress, a gust of wind touching my soul. One moment and she’s gone.
“I see what you mean,” says the elder. “I’ve scanned queens before, so I know the feeling of your mind. It’s all there as it should be, but so it’s something else. An echo.”
“An echo of what?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
“An echo of light, of a beautiful soul. An alien thing, the like I’ve never seen.”
An echo of Liz, for this can’t be anything else.
“What do you make out of this. Am I in danger of losing myself, of becoming someone else?”
“I don’t think so. Your mind is still your own’s, and nothing in your spirit patterns appears to be a risk to your sanity. What I see is only a lingering echo. Once or twice I’ve seen something like this with the Sen’Haillar. Old, bonded couples who lived together for years, who had cast eka together for a lifetime. Even when apart, some faint trace of each other remained present in their minds. Endearing, but not harmful at all.”
That’s odd! I’m somehow bonded with Liz, though Liz is not alive anymore. I’m bonded with her ghost.
✽✽✽
I’m back to the Sen’Dorien estate, partly relieved that I don’t seem to be in immediate danger of losing my mind, partly confused. I wonder if I should say something to Peter. By now I’m convinced he and Liz were a couple, yet I don’t know what I can possibly tell him. Oh, Liz is gone, but somehow still around as a ghost, as a figment of my imagination.
The human apartments are empty. A couple of halls away Eneid is directing the household staff to tidy up some minor mishap.
“Greetings Eneid, have you seen our guests?”
“Greetings my Lady! They went with Legate Faurist to meet the Spirit Mistress. Queen Sen’Diessa expressed her wish to greet them personally at the Council chambers.”
I met Faun Sen’Diessa earlier on, at her Merdun estate, and I knew for sure neither she nor Asturien had any plans to return to the Council later today. This must be a mistake.
“Are you sure? Did the Legate mention specifically Faun?”
“Yes, he did my Lady. He was quite clear they will be meeting the Spirit Queen. He even had a missive, not a formal invitation, just a council note.”
This is a disaster. Faun is not on Bellona, she’s nowhere near the Council room. But the Scourge are. This invitation is a set up aiming what I tried to prevent all along. A face to face encounter between the humans and the Scourge.
Propriety aside, I break into a run towards the portal hall praying I’ll reach my alien friends in time.
CHAPTER 18 (PETER)
“You! Human scum!”
We were approaching the end of the curved catwalk when suddenly a group of beings showed up from the other direction.
Our
path was cut by four aliens of a species we’ve never met, accompanied by the customary Diplomatic Corps guide. These beings were tall and willowy, except for the giant dressed in some sort of gothic armour, the one that greeted us with the appellative ‘scum’. He was just tall. Next to him, a second person with an ornate cloak and elegant, slightly effeminate features was looking us curiously, but without open hostility. The other two aliens, a male and a female were dressed in identical black uniforms, made of a material that seems to absorb light. I tagged them as bodyguards, given their unadorned dress and impassive stance.
Next to us, Faurist’s whiteish complexion became somehow paler, if possible.
“Scourge,” he mumbled and took a step back.
I’ve never seen pictures of the Scourge, and I somehow imagined misshapen alien monsters or maybe some insectoid hive creatures. They were nothing like that. All of them emanated some form of exotic beauty, even the giant with the face twisted in a disdainful scowl. All of them, including the woman, were taller than us, eight or nine feet in height, with smooth, elegant features. Like four wingless angels, or maybe fallen angels, as none of them displayed any trace of humanity or compassion.
While our guide continued to move backwards, Koslowski and Morris took a step forward and positioned themselves between the aliens and the rest of our group. Allegedly the Navy officers have joined our sightseeing trip as escorts, and for the first time since leaving Aldeea, their purported role was becoming a reality.
Their assertive stance didn’t pass unnoticed, but unfortunately only served to enrage the armour-clad alien. His features twisted with rage and he issued a sibilant hiss, like a viper ready to strike. His richly dressed compatriot had a half-hearted attempt to appease him, to little avail.
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