Battleground

by Terry A. Adams

  “If you believe we will not help you, why do you want us to come back?”

  “I myself lied to Tlorr,” Kwoort said. “I still intend to obtain your assistance, but I already knew that I would come here, and then Tlorr would be my enemy. So I lied. You are assisting me now. That is what you have been doing all day. You have nothing to show for it. Come back tomorrow, and maybe you will get something of what you want. Come and stay. Yes. Come and stay some days. Stay until we agree.”

  Gabriel said, “Will we be able talk with Kakrekt Commander as well?”

  “Yes,” Kakrekt said, but Kwoort said, “Why do you want to talk to her? Is talking to me not enough? Kakrekt is very busy. I was very busy as High Commander—busier than I am likely to be as Holy Man. It is my duty to pray, however. That will require much time.”

  “You had time for us as High Commander of Rowtt,” Gabriel said. “Surely Kakrekt can make time, if she thinks she can get something useful from us.”

  Hanna looked at him in surprise, but Kwoort’s ears moved on the edge of laughter.

  “You are more demanding than I thought you would be. Very well. Kakrekt may find some time for you, if you stay long enough. And if I do not order her to be too busy.”

  Chapter V

  FOR ONCE HANNA AND METRA agreed on something. Continued contact with Kakrekt was worth pursuing, if Hanna could find a way to bypass Kwoort.

  Bypass, or “Neutralize—” Metra said.

  “Neutralize?” Hanna said. She had been around true-humans—around Jameson—long enough to develop some synonyms for that. Discredit. Disgrace. She said unwillingly, “Kakrekt is already pursuing something like that, I think.”

  “Evidently. In any case, negotiations need to be ongoing.”

  “Is that what you call what we were doing? Negotiating? It’s ongoing, then. If that’s what you call it.”

  “What are you doing to prepare for tomorrow?”

  “It’s already tomorrow,” Hanna said. It was after midnight on Endeavor, early evening in Wektt. She had not previously worked on a world where day-length was so drastically skewed from Standard. She was tired. But then, she had been tired since the first telepathic contact with Soldiers.

  “Your plans?”

  “I’m going to rest.”

  “Me too,” Gabriel said.

  But he did not.

  • • •

  Abundant God cast forth fire for he was fire. He commanded the sky to make it cool and of it he made the great stone of the world, and cast forth again and gathered fire together and set that fire in the sky. He took the sparks that spun away and set them also in the sky. He made the fiery portion move and made it begin to wheel around the world and the sparks he also set in motion. Thus day and night in regular succession we see the gathered portion that is the sun, and then the many sparks.

  Abundant God then seized the world. He struck off many shards of stone until he made a sphere, but inside the sphere, he placed fire.

  He took the largest of the stricken shards and made the moons and set them whirling too around the world. Others he took and clenched in his fiery hand until water poured from them, and in this way formed the seas and rivers and lakes. And with the other hand of fire he touched the sea and made cloud, and rain began.

  No hierarchy here, Gabriel thought, no demigods. This is hands-on.

  Plunged into the tangle of Hanna’s reports and those of the first on-site observers from the moment he boarded Endeavor, he had not read the texts Communications had intercepted, the wellhead for translation programs. He did not think Hanna had read them, either. She would have seen no need for it when she could live inside other beings’ minds. A blind spot, he thought. Everyone had them.

  Abundant God looked at the fires in the sky and at the cooled world, and saw that though they were made of his own substance they were separate and did not know their own existence. They did not know him.

  Abundant God thought well and took some of the stone from the world. He held it in his hands and breathed fire upon it and the stone lived and multiplied into different forms. These forms he threw upon the world and living plants began to cover it, but they lived without knowing that they lived. He took more stone and infused it with a greater breath, and it lived and multiplied into other forms, and he threw them upon the world and they were animate. But despite the fire of his breath, they did not know Abundant God.

  Gabriel rubbed his eyes.

  Abundant God, it seemed, had had a hard time of it. The animals he created went about their business without paying any attention to him. The flame in them glowed fitfully when they mated, but then when they were finished, it subsided. Abundant God tried out a smarter version, and tinkered with it until the new animals had tools and weapons.

  All right, Gabriel thought. Abundant God must have given them proper hands and pulled them upright, too, though the writer or writers of the text, ancient or not, blithely dispensed with evolution and anthropology.

  The god’s experiment, though, was a dead end. (Not the words of the text; Gabriel’s assessment.) The creatures hunted lesser animals with the weapons and the fire in them was hot when they killed, a hopeful sign. But once fed, the upright creatures preferred to sit around and exercise their linguistic skills (also new, Gabriel inferred) to no particular end, or to mate in a desultory way. In short, they were lazy. Disappointing, really.

  Abundant God kept on tinkering.

  • • •

  Abundant God looked upon his creation and saw that his creatures passed through life with the indifference of the sparks in the sky. Abundant God desired that they know him and determined to make them aware of his power.

  Abundant God once more cast forth a fiercer fire, and of it he made the facilitators, and placed them among his creatures. And he said, “You shall know me by these. They shall be inseparable from you and without them you will perish.” And those of his Soldiers who wished to have congress with one another learned that they could do so only in the presence and power of the facilitators, and the facilitators would not be denied. And when Soldiers had learned this, Abundant God also said, “Now you know me and know my power, that my authority is absolute; and so that you will remember this, you will increase according to my dictates, and I will not be denied.”

  Gabriel read until it was time to leave for Wektt. When he got up to go his leaden legs told him how tired he was. He joined Hanna near the pod, and he thought she saw his weariness and would say something about it, but her communicator sounded—Metra wanted her, here at this last minute—and there was no time.

  • • •

  Metra’s private conference room, looking dreary; the walls were light, a silvery-gray, but gray nonetheless. Metra loomed in it, her dark green uniform looking almost black. Something is missing, Hanna thought, but she did not know what it was.

  Metra was impatient, though Hanna had come at once, detouring from the route to the pod.

  “New orders,” Metra said. Her voice was tight, and so was her face. She did not make an effort to hide her dislike of Hanna, but, of course, she never had.

  She expected some reply, and Hanna could not think of anything to say except, “All right.”

  “First—this is per communications from Wektt—you will meet Commander Kwoort in Wektt proper this time. We’re loading supplies for two weeks, but you’ll stay as long as it takes to produce results.”

  Hanna nodded.

  “Secondly, Admin has communicated this to me. You are to find a way to make some concession. It’s imperative that we get volunteers to go to Earth.”

  “What kind of concession?” Hanna said.

  “Find something Kwoort wants. Anything. You ought to have some idea what that is by now!”

  “He wants weapons. Contact’s charter strictly prohibits supplying weapons.”

  “You can hold out t
he possibility—”

  Cork and Cock were missing. Witnesses.

  “You will find something.”

  Or else—what? Hanna thought. She did not say it; she did not want to know what the “or else” might be. Someone might even have thought of things she could lose that she was not already afraid of losing.

  “I would like to speak with Commissioner Jameson,” she said without heat, because heat would be counterproductive.

  “Not possible. You know the regulation.”

  “Director Evanomen said that would be changed.”

  “He must have forgotten.”

  “I will speak to him, then.”

  “I have told you exactly what he told me to communicate to you. There is no need for you to speak to him.”

  “Yes. No doubt,” Hanna said, and went out to Gabriel and the pod.

  Chapter VI

  WEKTT’S CAPITAL WAS IN BETTER shape than Rowtt’s, probably, Hanna thought during the last of the descent, because it was so much farther away from the amorphous, ever-changing border between the two. Wektt’s primary city had aboveground structures still intact, tucked into mountain gorges, hidden in the lee of cliffs, huddled low to the ground along stony rivers. There were even a few trees, though they were stiff and sparse, and distorted by prevailing winds.

  If Rowtt had been pounded by electrical storms, Wektt had its own scourge—wind. It was cold and steady and Hanna shuddered as she stepped from the pod to greet Kwoort. She was lightly dressed; she expected to be underground most of the time and wore a loose tunic and trousers of thin fabric. The tunic hid a weapon at her waist. For demonstration if needed, she had told Metra, and on that basis, Metra had agreed.

  Gabriel watched thoughtfully while Hanna handed their supply of meal tabs over to a waiting Soldier. “Do you really think we’ll be here two weeks?” he asked.

  Hanna shrugged. They stood on the landing field and looked toward a looming mountain. They had come before dawn, and the mountain was only a deeper darkness against the sky. There was no way to tell how much of it had been hollowed out and no way to guess how many Soldiers were inside. Endeavor probably knew, but Metra had not given them any figures, and there had seemed no reason to ask. She said, “I have no idea how long we’ll be here.” She looked at Kwoort and said, “Does it matter to you how long it takes, Holy One?”

  “No,” he said.

  “Nor to my commanders, I suspect.”

  “You understand I must take your weapon. Yes, I thought you would have one. I want also any other devices that you have.”

  Kwoort held out his hand. Hanna looked up at him, her face expressionless. Then she took the weapon from under her tunic and put it in his hand. He put it into his satchel and held out the hand again. After a moment Hanna took the com unit from her wrist and gave that to him too. She said, “You did not tell my Commander that you would not let me speak with her.”

  “Why do you need it, when you can speak to her mind?”

  “She will not listen,” Hanna said, and added, She finds even the thought of speaking to the mind unpleasant to the highest degree, and Kwoort felt the truth of it. Perhaps he had forgotten that other telepaths remained on Endeavor, or thought, since they were not officers, they did not matter. Hanna had not expected that and was not going to tell him otherwise. She was prepared to cherish any advantage she could get.

  “I will give the device back to you if it becomes necessary. Give me yours also,” Kwoort said to Gabriel.

  He did it, slowly. All right for Hanna, she’s a telepath, he thought. But if something happens to her . . .

  My people will watch over you still, came Hanna’s answering thought.

  Kwoort turned and started uphill, Hanna and Gabriel behind him. It was even colder now. The ground was wet, and a few snowflakes drifted down. At least, Gabriel thought, we’re not trapped, the pod is here, only to hear the familiar almost-voice inside his head say: Look back.

  He glanced behind them and thought he could make out something like a fence that seemed to have sprung up around the pod.

  Guards. Lots of them. No going back.

  • • •

  It was a rough, cold walk and Kwoort used no light. The wind strengthened and diminished at intervals, but never stopped. It drove straight through Hanna’s clothing. She started to shiver and could not stop, and then became lightheaded. She and Gabriel stumbled often in the dark, but Kwoort walked ahead of them steadily. Hanna wondered how quickly these long-legged, multi-jointed creatures could move if they were in a hurry. She could not outrun them, she was certain. She was out of breath quickly, and the dizziness worsened. Then she heard Gabriel panting, caught a flash of worry from him, headache, where’d that come from, and something came back to her, a memory of other mountains she had visited in better times. Altitude sickness; they were very high up.

  She kept her eyes on the path, afraid they must trudge all the way to the top. She did not want to see how far they had to go.

  When her feet hit paved level ground, she did look up, and ahead was a vast cavern cut into the side of the mountain. It was open to the cold and filled with dimly lit machines and figures that moved over and among them. Close up, only one or two of the workers even glanced their way. Deliberately, she focused on a Soldier who had not looked up, drawing his attention. He responded, though sluggishly; she had to touch him a second time before he turned his attention from the engine he was repairing and the mental schematic of its parts. He looked briefly at the not-Soldiers in their strangeness, and there was a clear instant of discrimination that translated to not-a-threat. Then he thought of his work again, incurious, dismissing the two figures with his Holy Man.

  Into the cavern, where a Soldier waited to act as guide; Kwoort had not been here long enough to move unerringly through the huge warren by himself. The guide led them straight through the cavern. More machines here, more workers, engine noise. Kwoort and the Soldier did not slow down and Hanna and Gabriel were well behind, gasping, when they came to the back of the space and into a corridor that led deeper into the mountain. On and on they went in dim light that barely glimmered from the ceiling, past many corridors and doors and arches that branched off, all the hallways and openings spacious and wide. After a while the guide began to take turnings, and there were ramps that led to other levels, sometimes up and sometimes down. Soon Hanna was more lost than she had been in the maze under the riverside outpost in Rowtt, and though the walls were posted with signs that might offer information, she could not read them. She did not know in which direction she should go if Kwoort abandoned them. The dizziness increased and her chest hurt when she breathed.

  Then Kwoort did abandon them, turning them over to the guide at a junction marked with more unreadable signs.

  “A billet is designated for you,” he said. “This Soldier will take you to it.”

  “And then what?” Hanna said.

  “I will have you brought to me so that we can talk. When I can spare the time,” he said, and there was that smile again.

  • • •

  The billet and lavatory cubicle were standard, sizable enough, the sleeping platform comfortable enough, though sleeping on it at the same time would force them close together. They didn’t care; they fell on it like exhausted children. Hanna had just gotten her breath back when the door swung open and another Soldier came in, dropped the package of meal tabs on the floor, and left without speaking. The package looked pitifully small. The knowledge that each tab was dense with nourishment did not help. Hanna sat up and looked at a familiar screen set into a wall, where a Soldier urged action against the Demon. She said, “Oh, hell. I hoped they didn’t have those here.”

  “Twenty-four hours a day.” Gabriel was still breathless. “Thirty-six point-eight? Whatever it is.”

  Hanna pulled the fine skein of the translator carrier from her hair and the audio b
ecame white noise. “It’s not so bad this way,” she said.

  “The, uh, what he’s talking about. The Demon.”

  “What?”

  “I wish I’d read more of the creation myth. I never got to the Demon.”

  She looked at him closely. His fair skin was still blotched from the cold wind, and she did not know what he had been doing before they came, but it had not been sleeping.

  “Tell me later,” she said gently. “Why don’t you rest?”

  “Maybe—all right. That might be a good idea.”

  He took off his translator too and dropped it on the floor. His eyes closed, and she felt him think again: Lie with me . . . But the thought trailed off sweetly, and he was quickly asleep.

  Chapter VII

  SOUNDS SPILLED FROM the video unit into her dreams. She woke slowly, swimming up through deep water, when they became louder. Gabriel touched her shoulder and she opened her eyes to see a Soldier standing over her, talking. The gossamer net of her translator lay abandoned on a shelf. She stumbled to it and got it on in the middle of a statement: “—will see you now. You must come with me. He orders it.”

  She muttered, “Wait, wait,” and the Soldier stood patiently enough while she used the lavatory, ran cold water (the only kind) and splashed her face, hoping it would thin the fog in her head, but it did not. She came out to find the Soldier standing in the same place, Gabriel facing him, translator on. He looked around and said, “He only wants you.”

  The thought of leaving Gabriel behind in this maze made her uneasy. “I’m not going without you,” she said.

  “The Holy Man does not want Gergtk,” the Soldier said.

  “Tell the Holy Man he must see both of us.”

  “I cannot tell the Holy Man he must do anything. He tells me what I must do. He tells you what you must do.”