Eternity's Mind

by Kevin J. Anderson

  His sister Muree’n interjected, “We destroyed them all, Liege. We saw it! There could not have been more than two or three robot survivors.”

  Zan’nh straightened in his seat, obviously disturbed. “Yet hundreds of thousands of them struck Wythira. How is that possible? Are they being replenished?”

  Gale’nh considered the englobing shell around Kuivahr and the much larger sphere that had surrounded the Onthos system. “Any beings that can swallow entire planets or star systems can certainly manufacture a few robots. We may be facing an infinite supply of enemies.”

  Rememberer Anton asked, “What about the faeros? When they appeared over the Prism Palace, we seemed to have accomplished something. Will they help us?”

  “We communicated with them, and I sense they are willing to fight our common enemy,” Jora’h agreed. “But how can I call upon them if I do not know where the shadows will strike next?”

  The Prime Designate turned to the human historian. “The Shana Rei were defeated once before. Mage-Imperator Xiba’h forged an alliance with the faeros—how did they win?”

  Rememberer Anton sighed and scratched his head. “I’ve read those ancient sections over and over, but the old rememberers were more interested in creating a legend than an accurate chronicle. A lot of vital information was edited out—such as the actual way they defeated the creatures of darkness. I’ll keep studying the apocrypha, in hopes of finding something.”

  While compiling astronomical records from across the Empire, Solar Navy patrols noted alarming changes in empty space. Many more shadow clouds had appeared out of nowhere, and instead of being transient as before, they remained like beachheads holding conquered territory throughout the Spiral Arm. And those dark nebulas were growing larger.

  Gale’nh found it very disturbing. Not so long ago, he had believed that the Ildiran Empire was entering a new golden age. The Kolpraxa had been launched with great fanfare to open a new section of the galaxy. Instead, that grand expedition had encountered the first of the awakening shadow clouds. The Kolpraxa had provoked the creatures of darkness somehow. And now they were intent on destroying the Spiral Arm.

  Gale’nh pushed away a disturbing thought: What if he was the one who had drawn the Shana Rei here?

  CHAPTER

  40

  SHAWN FENNIS

  He and Chiar’h waited for days at the transportal nexus of Gorhum, tending the misbreeds with the outpost’s inadequate facilities, and waiting for news of Tamo’l. The medical kith members from the sanctuary domes on Kuivahr were skilled at handling the genetic misfits, and the refugees did survive. But they needed to get back to Ildira.

  Two Confederation trading ships arrived at Gorhum with goods to send through the transportal for customers on other settled Klikiss worlds. Shawn Fennis begged the traders to fly his group to Ildira, but the traders regarded the freakish specimens with awkward embarrassment and made excuses. Pol’ux—lying bedridden and his body swollen with boils—beseeched them to no avail, and even the heartbreaking songs of Mungl’eh did not convince them.

  When the traders flew off, leaving the Kuivahr refugees behind, Chiar’h turned to her husband, her smooth Ildiran face flushed. From the stiffness of her movements, Fennis could tell how angry she was. He tried to reassure her. “We’ll find the right person.”

  The outpost chief clearly wanted all these special-needs strangers to go away as well, so that Gorhum could return to its quiet existence. The man gestured to the stone trapezoidal wall with its ring of coordinate tiles. “Maybe if you go through the transportal to another world, they’ll have better facilities for you? Someplace other than Gorhum? It might even get you closer to the Ildiran Empire.”

  Fennis shook his head. “Our patients are already fragile, and at least they’re stable for the moment. I don’t want to impose stress by moving them unless we genuinely have a way home.” He held firm to his determination.

  Finally, after five days, an old Kett Shipping vessel arrived. Dando Yoder, a salty old trader who specialized in making niche runs to underserved worlds, stopped to deliver basic necessities to the settlement. As soon as Yoder’s ship landed, Fennis hurried out to meet him, hoping to convince the trader to take at least the misbreeds that needed more specialized medical attention. Fennis stepped up, all business. “We need transportation to the Ildiran Empire. We’re hoping we can hire you.”

  Yoder, a squat, squarish man with a graying beard, ran a hand through his tousled hair. “That’s out of my way—and expensive.”

  “When we get to Ildira we can pay you well.”

  “Now, I don’t have any reason to disbelieve you, though I’d prefer more of a guarantee and some sort of down payment.”

  Fennis thought the Gorhum outpost chief might be willing to pay just to get the misbreeds out of there, but Chiar’h interrupted with a hard voice, fighting to save her patients. “We promise the Mage-Imperator himself will pay you. We have special cargo that is important to the Empire, and we need transportation.”

  Fennis wanted to get an answer from Yoder before the man caught a glimpse of the most deformed misbreeds, but Gor’ka, Har’lc, and Alaa’kh emerged from the station buildings, moving awkwardly toward the ship. Yoder’s eyes went wide. Fennis’s heart sank. The captain would probably be too squeamish to let the repellent misbreeds aboard his ship.

  “What are those things?”

  “They are your cargo,” Chiar’h explained. “Our patients, and our friends.”

  Fennis added, “These are survivors from the Dobro breeding program, genetic mixtures that were part of an experiment.”

  “Looks like the experiment failed,” Yoder mused, but his voice held no malice.

  “Possibly … or perhaps their special powers have not yet been identified,” Chiar’h said.

  “We believe they all have special abilities,” Fennis said. “They were created during desperate times in the Elemental War, and now that we face the Shana Rei, can we afford to dismiss anyone who might possibly help?”

  Yoder paled. “Those damn shadows! I barely got away from Kuivahr with my skin intact. I mostly dealt with the Kellums and their distillery, but I heard about the sanctuary domes down there. I know about your misbreeds. How’d you get away?”

  Alaa’kh said in a slurping voice, “We escaped through the transportal.”

  Fennis pressed, “And now we need to get to Ildira. Name your price. We will pay it—please.”

  Other misbreeds came forward to beseech the trader. Fennis was afraid they might look threatening to him, but the old trader didn’t seem overly troubled. He eyed them, as if assessing cargo possibilities. “They don’t look too healthy. I don’t want to be held responsible if any of them die en route.”

  “You will not be blamed,” Chiar’h said. “They are in our care.”

  Yoder sighed. “Rlinda Kett would have my hide if she found out I didn’t help suffering medical patients who needed it. And I know what kind of hell you went through getting away from Kuivahr.” He put his hands on his hips. “All right. My ship isn’t big enough to take everyone in your group, though.”

  “Just the misbreeds who need it most,” Chiar’h said.

  Fennis added, “We’ll send Solar Navy ships back here to retrieve the swimmer kith and the rest of the Kuivahr refugees. For now, we need to get our patients to Ildira and report to the Mage-Imperator.”

  “Maybe he knows where Tamo’l is,” Gor’ka said. “Maybe she is already home.”

  The meek outpost chief rushed out, hoping to add his encouragement, but the decision was already made. All the timid man could say was “I wholeheartedly applaud your efforts, Dando. Thank you. Those misbreeds will be much better off away from here.”

  * * *

  All the refugees did indeed survive the journey, and Ildiran medical centers rallied to give them the treatment and life support they needed as soon as the ship delivered the misbreeds to Mijistra.

  Yoder was astonished by the reward he received fro
m the appreciative Mage-Imperator, and he went away with a cargo load of valuable Ildiran goods as well as a cash payment that he said was worth three major deliveries elsewhere. Thanking Fennis, Chiar’h, and the misbreeds for letting him be of service, Yoder took his leave.

  Fennis and Chiar’h immediately petitioned the Prism Palace, and the green priest Nira came out to meet them, accompanied by Prime Designate Daro’h and an escort of guard kithmen. Daro’h said, “Adar Zan’nh and Tal Gale’nh just returned from a mission to Kuivahr. They report that the planet is utterly dead. They found one Roamer survivor in a small ship, but nothing at the sanctuary domes. We are pleased that you are all safe.”

  Nira spoke to Fennis and Chiar’h. “Do you know what happened to Tamo’l? Did my daughter escape before the shadows came? We’ve had no word.”

  Fennis frowned. “Osira’h and Prince Reyn wanted her to come with them at the start of the evacuation, but she wouldn’t leave. Tamo’l stayed behind to see that all the patients made it safely through the transportal. She and Tom Rom were right behind us on the last run through the transportal. I’m certain they got away—but they may have gone to different coordinates.”

  Chiar’h said, “The misbreeds have an affinity for Tamo’l. Some claim they can still sense her. We do not know where she is, but we believe she is alive and well.”

  “Unlike Rod’h,” Daro’h said with a sinking voice. “I can feel him like an ache in me, trapped in darkness. The thism connection is frayed and poisoned, but he remains a prisoner of the Shana Rei.”

  “My other children sense both Rod’h and Tamo’l,” Nira said, “but they are mystified about my daughter’s location. Tell us about this man you say accompanied her.”

  “Tom Rom arrived at the sanctuary domes to share data. His employer is also a medical researcher, but we don’t know where.”

  In a determined tone, Nira said, “That gives us a place to start. We’ll look into it.”

  CHAPTER

  41

  TAMO’L

  The Pergamus medical station had research facilities and equipment far more sophisticated than Tamo’l had seen anywhere. If she’d had access to such equipment over the past decade, she could have worked wonders for the misbreeds. All that lost potential saddened her.

  Zoe Alakis encouraged research for its own sake, but the woman did not seem inclined to put the results to any practical use. Tamo’l didn’t understand the point of conducting research that benefited no one.

  She wished the misbreeds could be with her now. Tom Rom assured her they had all been rescued from the shadows, but if only the misbreeds were here on Pergamus, she could develop and test numerous medical treatments that might help them. Her misbreeds were elsewhere, though, and she heard no word from them.

  Tamo’l was kept isolated in her private laboratory dome. She would ask to send another message back to Ildira to reassure her mother and the survivors from Kuivahr that she was all right. Soon …

  While her thoughts wandered, Tamo’l dug into the Pergamus database, with more than mere inquisitiveness. She felt a compulsion to do so. The urge came from behind a dark veil in her eyes that she couldn’t explain. Sometimes she would work for hours without even realizing what she was doing, and then she would snap back to wakefulness to find that she had scoured databases and conducted risky and questionable tests … but to what purpose, she did not know. Something else had been directing her.

  Tamo’l shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Even with the brilliant illumination inside the lab complex, she had a hard time focusing … until she slipped into one of her disturbing fugue states.

  Tamo’l was interested in analyzing variations among the misbreeds, successful mixtures between kiths, and more importantly, halfbreeds like her own siblings. Or maybe it was the shadowy compulsion inside her that wanted to know about the halfbreeds so badly.…

  She heard the access lock click, and Tom Rom came to visit her, startling her out of deep concentration. Although he had rescued her from Kuivahr, he displayed no warmth toward her. Now he stood in the main room, looking at her computers, her genetic-analysis databases, her laboratory systems. Eventually, he gave a slight nod of approval.

  “Under normal circumstances, a team of ten or more would work in a lab like this one,” he said. “You should not have to do this all yourself. Since you are undertaking ambitious research, I can offer technicians from our Pergamus staff.”

  Tamo’l felt inexplicably alarmed. “No, the research is personal to me. I work best alone. No one grasps it the way I do.” She didn’t understand the sudden urgency that swelled up inside her when he suggested sending in assistants. She felt an almost violent reluctance to have any stranger see what she was doing. Tamo’l quelled the alarm and answered politely, “Thank you, but I prefer to work in solitude.”

  Tom Rom looked deep into her eyes, and she flinched, afraid he might see something there. He gave a brusque nod. “All right, I just wanted to check in with you before I depart. I’m off to visit Klikiss worlds and then Rakkem. I will make sure you have an administrative contact, should you need anything while I’m away.”

  “I will be content and productive,” Tamo’l said. “I have enough work to do … so many questions to answer.” Without any further farewell, he exited the dome again.

  She felt unsettled long after he departed, and she tried to focus on possible research threads to follow. Back on Kuivahr, at the urging of Osira’h, Tamo’l had focused on testing pharmaceutical variations of kelp extracts for Prince Reynald’s illness. As a seemingly generous benefactor, Tom Rom had brought the database of Pergamus research on the disease, and now—even though she was completely cut off from Prince Reyn and Osira’h—Tamo’l pored over those tests, approaching the problem from different angles, using her new equipment.

  But before long that dark compulsion drove her toward different studies.

  Using genetic-mapping profiles, she developed models of her misbreeds. Since Tom Rom had copied all the data before they escaped from Kuivahr, she still had records on all of them, including the ones who had died over the years. To Tamo’l, the misbreeds were not just pathetic mistakes that should never have been born. She was convinced they had as yet undiscovered abilities that were masked by their infirmities.

  After she documented, categorized, and studied the misbreeds on record, Tamo’l felt hungry and exhausted. She began to think about eating a meal … but then her consciousness blotted out.

  When she became aware again, she found that she had been accessing the vast Pergamus records of the most virulent diseases, including the Onthos plague, which had a mortality rate of nearly one hundred percent. Shocked, Tamo’l saw that she had made a list of the most dangerous pathogens stored in the facility, although she had no idea why. What possible use could that be to her work?

  Unsettled, she blanked the screens and deleted the data she’d just compiled. She took a fresh sample of her own blood. Her quest was not just to understand the misbreeds, but to understand her own siblings and herself. She ran a detailed profile and compared it with the profiles of the various misbreeds.

  Because Tamo’l was a cross between a human green priest and a lens kithman, her DNA was quite different. Fortunately, she also had stored profiles from her other half-siblings, even Rod’h. The answer had to lie in there … but she wasn’t entirely sure what the question was.

  Rod’h and Gale’nh had been able to resist the shadows somehow, and that was a something she urgently wanted to understand. Tamo’l would devote her efforts to teasing out that answer by comparing DNA samples. She applied herself to the work with a dark, focused intensity. Flickering black static hovered around the edges of her vision, forcing her concentration. She dove into the work, trying to find the key.

  Tamo’l had to understand why she and her siblings were different, why they could supposedly resist the Shana Rei … although the creatures of darkness seemed to be getting stronger, much stronger.

  She als
o needed to find the answer she feared most—why the shadows had managed to penetrate her.

  CHAPTER

  42

  ZHETT KELLUM

  Finding the abandoned equipment at the fringes of the Osquivel system brought back memories for Zhett. For many years before the Elemental War, clan Kellum had run shipyards in the rings of Osquivel, but when the EDF started cracking down on outlaw Roamers, the Kellums abandoned their shipyards and moved up to the dark cometary cloud. There, unseen, they had broken down huge quantities of comet ice, teasing out rare ekti. After the war, when cloud harvesting became safe and viable again, the Kellums had shelved their cometary operations, which were no longer cost-effective. All the mothballed equipment had just been hanging there for decades.

  Zhett smiled as their borrowed ships flew in. The sensor screens detected the drifting vessels, temporary stations, and battered ekti tankers that had been in cold darkness for twenty years. Unmonitored, the components of the former industrial complex had wandered apart, and some facilities had suffered damage from bumping into drifting cometary fragments. But for the most part the ships and equipment seemed intact.

  Zhett dispatched a crew to skim around in broad search patterns and map the locations of the primary assets. When large ships were found, Patrick sent survey and salvage crews aboard to reactivate the life-support and power systems. Before leaving Newstation, Del Kellum had used part of the loan he’d received from the treasury to buy a stockpile of power blocks, with which the teams restored the equipment to operational levels.

  “It was certainly a different mindset back then, if we could afford to just dump all this stuff here,” Zhett mused. “I guess it wasn’t financially feasible to move and repurpose it.” To her, the large dark ships looked like long-lost treasures wrapped in a sense of nostalgia.

  Patrick said, “It’s a junkyard.”

  “Not junk, boy.” Del sounded indignant. “We left it in cold storage. And because it’s of Roamer manufacture, I bet most of the ships and equipment are perfectly serviceable and ready to go.”