The Orphaned Worlds

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The Orphaned Worlds Page 13

by Michael Cobley


  As he went in search of a bucket of water, Kao Chih dwelled on thoughts of his people, the families and crew aboard the Retributor, a hollowed-out, modified asteroid fitted with the ancient engines from the colonyship Tenebrosa. And he also thought about the rest of the Tenebrosa colonists, the ones left behind on Pyre – he had grown up with stories and pictures of Pyre, from the years before the colossal extractor machines came, when it was still called Virtue In The Valley, a lost place of peace which the older generation yearned for. If all the surviving Pyre colonists could settle on Darien the elders might still pine for what was but the youngsters and newborn would see this world as their home and embrace it.

  And yet … there had been a moment, or rather several moments, in the last few hazardous days when part of him had fervently wished to be back on board the Retributor, back in the familiar comfort of his bed recess, wrapped in all those sounds, smells and rhythms of family life …

  He smiled as he sponged the dirt from his face, neck and arms. This must mean that I am destined to be one of those grumpy elders, forever reminding the disrespectful youngsters about the old, heroic days …

  Tavish Doyle came to see them off, thanking each in turn and giving each of them a small bottle of liquor retrieved from one of the tavern’s undamaged stores. Half an hour later they were climbing a hillside track with Greg and Nikolai leading the way, their torches lighting the path ahead. Kao Chih found himself walking alongside the Earthsphere agent Silveira, quietly discussing the luminous ineka beetles and ulby roots. As they spoke, he remembered to employ the anglophone honorific.

  ‘Mr Silveira,’ he then said. ‘May I ask you about the reasons for your mission?’

  Silveira smiled. ‘Please do.’

  ‘Thank you. During the duller periods of my journey to Darien, I took the opportunity to scan news headlines for mentions of Earth and Darien and the human race in general. Those concerning Darien were limited in number and tended to recur, but those focused on Earth and Humanity dealt solely with the Yamanon invasion and fell into two main categories, critical pieces with various levels of hostility, and pro-Earthsphere ones. I admit that I only had access to summaries and extracts but I can say that the responses and rebuttals from the Earthsphere government were unwavering and even aggressively asserted, as is their loyalty to the Sendrukan Hegemony. Given these facts, why are you here, helping rebels to resist the plans and tactics of the Brolturans, a close Hegemony ally?’

  ‘A good question,’ Silveira said. ‘There are several reasons. First, it is the Sendrukans who are really in charge here, in the person of their ambassador, Utavess Kuros; second, they have invested a lot of political capital in maintaining control and a plausible façade, yes? You mention this ancient Forerunner device, this matter transporter, but I am thinking that there’s more to it than that. Something strategic, something worth all this trouble. Last, while agents such as myself have a limited range of options, my superiors have an obligation to gather information on all of Humanity’s far-flung offshoots. Off the record, untraceable sidearms and advice on certain battlefield technology are permissible; advanced weaponry and direct involvement in planning and execution are forbidden.’

  ‘It sounds discouraging,’ said Kao Chih.

  ‘There is, however, one advantage to this particular situation – I am here while my superiors are fifteen thousand light years away.’

  ‘That’s what I like to hear!’ came Greg’s voice from in front.

  After three hours of trudging the sparse track led into a narrow defile between two steep, rocky hills and minutes later they descended into the tree-veiled valley of Tayowal. Under the night sky the lights of Tayowal were a welcoming glow amid the dense foliage and bushy surroundings. As they passed through the northern entrance they were met by Rory and a couple of the Diehards. Beyond, a large crowd of newcomers were milling around.

  ‘Finally,’ said Rory. ‘We were just about ready to send out searchers.’

  ‘Rory,’ said Greg, indicating the crowd. ‘Are they all … ?’

  ‘Aye, got bombed out of the camps and villages north and south of the Kentigerns, so where else can they go?’

  ‘How are the stores looking?’

  ‘We had a week’s worth before, but now, mebbe three days, an’ that’s pushin’ it.’ Rory glanced at Silveira. ‘A new face, eh? How did yer trip go, then? Good or grim?’

  On the other side of the crowd they continued towards a large stone-built entrance in the side of the valley. Kao Chih noticed that many of the new arrivals wore townswear, thinner shirts and trousers, and footwear unsuited to rough ground.

  ‘A fair bit of both,’ Greg said. ‘I’ll go over it once we get together with the Listeners and find out what’s been happening while we were away. Is Chel about?’

  ‘He just got back,’ Rory said. ‘Him and Yash have got quite a story for ye.’

  ‘Good. He has to be part of this too.’ He looked round at Silveira and beckoned him closer. ‘You’ll have to stay out of the public eye just now, but we’ll talk with the Listeners in private later. In the meantime, my good friend Kao Chih will keep you company, perhaps even find you something hot to drink.’

  Kao Chih smiled. ‘It will be my pleasure.’

  As Greg and Rory disappeared into the temple-house, Kao Chih led the Earthsphere agent over to one of the cooking fires and was handing him a beaker of broth when a familiar squat, long-armed figure approached with a rolling gait.

  ‘Ah, I see that the China-human has returned, along with another mouth to feed. Why do newcomers never bring food with them?’

  Yash stood before him, still dressed in the heavy fabricweave jerkin, sprouting innumerable pockets, that the Voth had been wearing when Kao Chih and the mech Drazuma-Ha first came aboard his ship, the Viganli. Drazuma-Ha had paid for its duplicity and vicious betrayal, and the Viganli had burned up on re-entry on the other side of Darien, but the Voth pilot remained indomitably abrasive.

  ‘So, Honourable Yash, was your journey into the mountains with Chel a success?’

  ‘A great success, Human Kao Chih, a triumph. Of course, Chel swore me to utter secrecy so, naturally, I’ll tell you everything I know!’ The Voth gave a low chuckle. ‘Well, I don’t know everything that happened but even if I was going to tell you what I do know, I’d first like you to tell me about your new friend.’

  ‘You anticipate my intentions – Honourable Yash, this is Baltazar Silveira,’ Kao Chih began, then paused as he considered that Greg might not want Silveira’s identity revealed to an inveterate gossiper like the Voth. But before he could continue with some made-up story, Silveira spoke.

  ‘A pleasure to meet you, sir,’ he said to the Voth. ‘You would be the captain of the cloud-harvester Viganli, I believe.’

  ‘Former captain, former ship,’ Yash said with a sour glance at Kao Chih. ‘And you?’

  ‘I captain a small vessel with exceptional capabilities,’ Silveira added. ‘And I too have had my share of excitement and danger. Tell me, have you ever had occasion to visit the great city Agmedra’a?’

  ‘That huge satellite orbiting V’Hrant, the Roug planet?’ The Voth nodded. ‘I’ve docked there once or twice. Why?’

  ‘I have interests there,’ the man said. ‘As does Earthsphere Intelligence.’

  The Voth’s eyebrows went up, and Kao Chih wondered if Silveira was wise to reveal such information to Yash.

  ‘For now, I would appreciate your discretion,’ Silveira went on. ‘And your attention, you too, Kao Chih. I need help from both of you.’

  Kao Chih exchanged a puzzled look with Yash. ‘Both of us, Mr Silveira?’

  ‘Both of you know Agmedra’a, and thus I have a proposition that may interest you.’

  Kao Chih wondered why the agent had waited till now to make this approach, but as he heard the man’s plan and its details he felt a rush of determination and hope.

  GREG

  From the Uvovo temple-house entrance, the main corridor led
through a system of passages dug from the valley side many centuries ago. Wall supports were carved in the form of tree trunks and candles burned in small niches set at waist height. The air was cold and smelled faintly of a leafy odour. Greg slowed his stride and looked at Rory.

  ‘How am I doing?’

  ‘No’ bad, from what I saw,’ the wiry Scot said. ‘How was it during yer trip?’

  ‘Nerve-racking,’ Greg said, briefly sketching the highlights of the ambush, Kao Chih’s capture and escape, and his own flight through the forest by night. ‘Most of the time I just feel that I’m no’ cut out for this leader-of-men bluffing, and then we’ll be faced with a situation that has to be dealt with and when I ask folk to do this or that they accept it and do it!’

  ‘Aye, but when ye were running the dig site on Giant’s Shoulder, were ye not giving out orders all the time?’

  Greg gave an ambivalent nod. ‘But that was different – we were all colleagues and I wasn’t really in charge, more like first among equals.’ He sighed. ‘I wish Uncle Theo was here – wish there was some way of getting through to Nivyesta.’

  ‘Och, yer doing fine,’ said Rory. ‘You don’t need me tae tell ye how to deal wi’ the Listeners and the refugees, and the Major might not have your patience …’

  Shadows flickered around the niche lamps, casting worn carvings of foliage into high relief. At the end of the corridor they came to a low-roofed chamber with a triangular table and three large pillars intricately worked to resemble trees with stylised branches splayed out across the ceiling. Lanterns hung above, as if from twigs and vines. Four Listeners were sitting there already, gaunt figures garbed in thigh-length robes, their narrow, vaguely misshapen features dim within soft cowls. One was Weynl, recognisable by the silvery grey in his fuzzy face hair. Then, as Greg and Rory were taking their own seats a burly, blond man in a red outdoor coat arrived and gave a wordless nod. This was Lars Hansen, spokesman for the Human refugees, and clearly there on his own.

  ‘Lars, I thought that the newcomers were sending a representative.’

  ‘I’ve talked it over with them, Greg, and I’ll be speaking for them …’

  ‘No, that you will not!’ said a female voice.

  Into the chamber strode a tall woman in a heavy work jacket. Not quite middle-aged, she had an athletic physique and her expression was dark and angry.

  ‘I explained …’ Hansen began but she raised a hand and addressed Greg.

  ‘Mr Cameron, I am Valeriya Sidorov. My apologies for this intrusion but I insist that our voices are to be heard! All of us have suffered the attacks and the hardship, so we came to your roof seeking food and shelter …’

  ‘And I explained to her, Greg, that we have limited supplies,’ said Hansen.

  ‘Please, Mr Cameron,’ Sidorov went on. ‘We have children and elders and wounded – please do not send us away.’

  ‘No one,’ Greg said, looking sharply at Hansen, ‘no one is going to be sent away to fend for themselves. However, you should be made aware that we shall soon be moving out of here because Tayowal is no longer safe.’

  Hansen and the woman Sidorov looked as started as Weynl and his fellow Listeners, while Rory smiled.

  ‘Why is this, friend Gregory?’ said Weynl.

  ‘You know why we have all these new arrivals,’ he said. ‘Most of the sizeable camps and settlements north, south and east of the Kentigerns were attacked and destroyed by the Brolturans yesterday. Aye, there were no attacks here but that doesna mean that Tayowal is safe. In fact, this valley is almost indefensible against the kind of hurt that the Brolts can bring down on us.’

  ‘So what are we to do?’ Weynl said. ‘How can we protect so many?’

  ‘I was hoping that you could come up with some answers, Listener. I know teams of Chel’s Artificers have been off exploring as far west as the Tirnanog Plains, and south to the Ymir Mountains – is there a useable refuge or even refuges within three or four days’ walk?’

  Weynl shook his sunken-eyed, cadaverous head. ‘Nothing of a suitable size. I am sorry. There are some large cave sanctuaries in the mountains you call the Ymirs but it would mean a journey of perhaps twenty days on foot …’

  The Listener trailed off as another Uvovo entered and it took Greg a moment to realise that it was Chel. Once a scholar, now a Seer, his friend still had that air of centred balance, despite the strain and fatigue that sometimes showed in his face. Now, his eyes were bright, his expression as cheerful as it used to be before all this began.

  ‘Welcome, Seer Cheluvahar,’ said Weynl. ‘You may perceive that we are faced with a predicament.’

  ‘Yes, Listener. I’ve met some of the newcomers and heard a few of their stories, which is why I am late. But I think I have a solution.’

  ‘Did you find something in the mountains, Chel?’ Greg said. ‘Caves or tunnels, almost anything would be worth considering.’

  ‘Better than caves, my friend, or tunnels.’

  Listener Weynl leaned forward, spidery, knuckly hands splayed on the plain tabletop.

  ‘Was it Uok-Hakaur?’ he said.

  Chel nodded and smiled, deepening the creases at the corners of his normal eyes.

  ‘Is it a temple of some kind?’ Greg said.

  ‘An ancient fortification, Gregory, hewed into the heart of a mountain. Uok-Hakaur was constructed in advance of the assaults of the Dreamless and their machine hordes, and it was the last bastion to fall when Umara burned and Segrana-That-Was retreated.’

  ‘Where was the entrance?’ Weynl said. ‘Above or below?’

  ‘Above, high up on the slopes of Hejo, which Humans call Tusk Mountain.’

  ‘Hejo,’ muttered Weynl. ‘The heights of that one are a labyrinth of shattered crags and treacherous ledges.’

  ‘Yet the path is safe, although it winds and twists like an old root.’

  ‘Does it have room for everyone in Tayowal?’ Greg said.

  ‘It does, Gregory, with room to spare. There are several cave-ins to be cleared, and some walls and ceilings to be repaired, but otherwise Uok-Hakaur is safe and secure.’

  ‘Sounds ideal,’ Greg said, curious at the way Chel was regarding him with an unwavering gaze. ‘We should tell our people to be ready to move tomorrow morning, if you’ve no objections, Listener Weynl.’

  ‘Uok-Hakaur was built to be a citadel against the creatures of Unmaker,’ the Listener said. ‘It is fitting that it becomes our new refuge.’

  Greg nodded and turned to Hansen and the woman Valeriya, both of whom looked relieved.

  ‘There it is – we have a new home so please, go and pass on the good news. There will be a lot of packing and preparation to be carried out, and point out that we’ll need volunteers to carry packs of provisions on a tough climb into the mountains.’

  Hansen looked sheepish as he and Valeriya thanked everyone before leaving. Once they were gone, Greg gave Chel an amused glance.

  ‘Is there something else you have to share? Something you couldn’t say in front of my fellow Humans?’

  ‘I felt that they might find it upsetting,’ the Uvovo said.

  ‘Aw, right!’ Rory snapped, half-rising from the table. ‘Well, if it’s upsettin’, I can just step outside if ye want …’

  Greg put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat.

  ‘Just cool yer head a minute.’

  Chel was bemused. ‘I don’t object to Humans hearing what I have to say – I only wished to tell you first so that you can decide how best to explain it.’

  Rory’s flare of anger melted away. ‘Ah right, fair enough. So, what’s the story?’

  They listened as Chel spoke of a glowing form that caused a cave-in and that he had followed down into the mountain, to the citadel’s lower levels, how he repulsed its attack and how he encountered the warpwell Sentinel in a chamber with four stone platforms. Then he related the Sentinel’s revelation that the glowing entity could be the vestigial echo of the last Keeper of Segrana.
r />   Weynl was astounded.

  ‘The Keeper! The tales say that he died, yet the Sentinel says otherwise … could it be true, Cheluvahar? Did you sense anything from it?’

  ‘The ghost creature seemed to have a Uvovo-like manner, yet its mind was fractured and far reduced.’

  ‘Is it dangerous, though? That’s the question,’ said Greg. ‘Is it safe to take all these people to your citadel, if it’s haunted?’

  ‘The Sentinel was insistent that we bring all the refugees to Uok-Hakaur,’ Chel said. ‘It also said that the Keeper could be controlled or eliminated if it proved to be more than a nuisance.’

  ‘We must speak with it,’ Weynl said. ‘Consider what we might learn.’

  ‘I am sure that we can rely on the Sentinel to help us deal with it,’ said Chel.

  ‘I certainly hope so,’ said Greg. ‘In the meantime, let me tell you what happened at Belskirnir,’ and he gave a brief account of the interrupted journey and the unexpected encounter with Alexandr Vashutkin in person. Pausing to ask Rory to bring in Kao Chih and Silveira, he summarised Vashutkin’s need for a new stronghold since Trond was, essentially, kicking him out, and how Greg recommended taking over the old Uvovo cave complex in the Utgard Barricades, the northern cliffs. When Chel then said that there was enough room at Uok-Hakaur to accommodate Vashutkin’s men too, Greg felt a stab of discomfort mingled with guilt.

  ‘Well … strategically speaking, it makes more sense to have several resistance groups in different locations … ye know, rather than bring them all together in one big target …’

  Aye, and end up with me and Vashutkin at each other’s throats. Not a good idea. But a small voice inside wondered if it was more to do with his lack of experience possibly leading to Vashutkin becoming the de facto leader.

  Rory returned with Kao Chih and Baltazar Silveira and one other, Yash the vaguely simian Voth pilot. Greg found the Voth overly abrasive and faintly untrustworthy yet Kao Chih had vouched strongly for him so Greg decided to admit him to such discussions. Yash was walking beside Kao Chih, chortling at something as Greg made the introductions, ending with Silveira.

 

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