The Sovereign Road

by Aaron Calhoun

  “It’s hard to say,” answered Gedron with a sigh. “I haven’t had time to run enough simulations. But my best guess is at least fifty percent.”

  Trielle sat in pensive silence, her mind struggling to grasp the sheer scope of this new threat. “How long until the devices are ready?” she asked finally.

  “Two days at most,” said Gedron with a sigh. “The Chromatocron and Ouranos Radii have been working on them for some time now, and I suspect that the bulk of them have already been fabricated. If that is true, then at this point it is mostly a matter of calibration.”

  “I don’t understand, Father,” said Trielle, her voice filled with sudden frustration. “Why would the Heirophants take such a reckless course? Isn’t it their duty to protect the Conclave?”

  “The Conclave, yes,” said Gedron, “Its structure, ideals, values, everything but its people. Trielle, the Heirophants care more about the Axioms and the philosophy they represent than they do about lives of the people they rule. Until today I only understood this dimly. I thought it was my job to preserve the citizens of the Conclave. Evidently I was wrong.”

  “It always comes back to the Axioms,” muttered Trielle angrily. “That’s what Garin was so disturbed about before he left.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Gedron, a puzzled look on his face.

  “Before he left,” said Trielle, “Garin was incessantly questioning the Axioms. He said they no longer made sense to him. At first I thought he was being foolish, but not anymore.”

  “Trielle,” said Gedron, a hungry look on his face, “what do you really know about where Garin has gone.”

  Trielle closed her eyes as a shiver of fear ran through her body. Should she speak? How much would he believe? How much could he accept? He was, after all, the High Gravitist. Then she opened her eyes and saw the expression of concern on his face. There was no trace of duplicitousness, only the unmitigated concern of a father for his son. Trielle took a deep breath, and told him the story. He listened patiently as she recounted Garin’s dreams, their chance meeting with the old man, and Garin’s trip to the Oneirographer. Throughout the narrative his expression remained largely one of patient concern, though the occasional brief frown crossed his face, as if he found certain aspects of the tale unbelievable. Suddenly, as she told him of Garin’s departure from the Kinetorium, his eyes opened wide in a look of mingled astonishment and fear. His hand shot out and almost painfully gripped her shoulders

  “Trielle,” he said slowly, as if fighting back the urge to panic. “What was the name of the world where Garin was heading?”

  “Sha-Ka-Ri,” said Trielle.

  Gedron fell back and slumped down in his chair. His evident fear was contagious.

  “What’s wrong?” cried Trielle.

  “Sha-Ka-Ri was one of the names of the early human homeworld. It was destroyed by the entropy clouds several days ago. If Garin was heading there…” His voice trailed off in despair.

  “Father,” said Trielle sharply, “Garin went there in search of something that seemed, that still seems, impossible. But… our homeworld? There are too many coincidences.”

  Gedron lifted his eyes, and Trielle was surprised to see tears. “What was it, Trielle, what was Garin looking for exactly?”

  “A way out of this life, this existence,” she said. “Something beyond the Axioms.” Trielle paused for a moment, then said, “Father, you know that I have read Rashavey’s manuscripts. Anyone who can add can see that the official timeline of the Conclave is false. I think whatever Garin found is somehow tied to that. Father, you need to tell me the truth!”

  Gedron rose and began to pace the room, his brow furrowed in evident thought. Trielle waited patiently, fearful that any stray word she spoke might undo the progress she had made. At last he stopped and stared at her, his gaze as intense as a laser. His lips were tight. She could see the evidence of mental struggle written on his face. A few more moments passed, then his features relaxed and he nodded.

  “Yes, Trielle, I do. Thought I have sworn an oath to keep these things concealed, apparently not all oaths can be kept.”

  Taking a deep, weary breath, Gedron sat down next her, and began.

  “The true history of the Conclave of Worlds begins a little over two thousand years ago on Sha-Ka-Ri, though in that era it was known as Terra, or Urth. For thousands of years our race fought, lived, and died on that world. Though we had colonized our moon, as well as a few of the neighboring planets in our star system, we were really no closer to interstellar travel than when we first crawled from the caves of our race’s infancy. It was a difficult time. The natural resources of our world had been all but drained by industrialization, and the planet’s environment had been severely damaged by a series of deep cometary impacts. Wars and famines were commonplace, and the society of that time had nearly given up. Then… It came…”

  “It?” asked Trielle, jarred from the story’s rhythm by the obscure reference. “Are you talking about first contact?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” said Gedron after a brief pause. “By then we had we had caught the radio signature of several different civilizations within our galaxy, and many of us thought that the arrival of alien life was inevitable. But this… creature… claimed to be something else entirely… On the surface it looked as human as you or me, but it possessed power far beyond anything we had ever seen, beyond anything our science had even predicted as possible. It was as if it was subject to a different set of physical laws and constants.”

  “What did it want?” asked Trielle.

  “Nothing less than the world,” said Gedron grimly. “It promised that the transition process would be peaceful, but the combined governments of Terra were not willing to simply cede the planet. Many thought that by casting this creature as a common foe they could reunify the nations and end the ongoing wars. Needless to say, its demands were met with near-instant retaliation. We turned all our weapons against it, but they failed. After withstanding a barrage of atomic missiles, particle beams, and free-electron lasers, it opened what seemed to be a portal or gateway to wherever it came from and our planet was overrun with an army the likes of which we had never seen before. The battle was over in moments, and our world surrendered. Within a few days, the creature and its army had taken control of the planet. Not long after the surrender the first colonies of humans were transported to nearby star systems, and in a few months those worlds were already seeding others in an exponential pattern of growth. That was the beginning of the Galactic Empire of Dar Ekklesia, what we later began to call simply the Dar.”

  “Months?” interrupted Trielle. “You said humanity did not have the ability to travel interstellar distances?”

  “Transluminal flight was a natural ability of the creature and those humans that swore fealty to it,” said Gedron. “With the lightspeed barrier torn aside, there was no limit to how far the Dar could reach. Even death itself did not limit them. Our scientists were never able to explain it, but somehow the creature was able to reach back across time and recover the noetic patterns of the dead that it deemed worthy, reincarnating them as the Anastasi, the elite generals of the empire.”

  Trielle nodded her head silently, remembering the strange term from Rashavey’s manuscript.

  “As the Dar spread from Terra,” Gedron continued, “it began to encounter other alien races. Some responded with force as we did and were conquered just as quickly, others were… well… different.”

  “Different? How?” asked Trielle, a bewildered look on her face.

  “It’s hard to explain,” said Gedron after a moment’s thought, “but they just didn’t act like inhabitants of the other worlds. They seemed almost welcoming, almost as if they were waiting to be conquered. Eventually, when the wave of colonization had covered the majority of the galaxy, the Dar moved their seat of power from Terra to the galactic core.”

  “What was life like under the Dar Ekklesia?” asked Trielle. “With the continual expansion it se
ems that Terra would have been stripped of what few resources it had left.”

  “Actually, worlds under the rule of the Dar seemed to prosper,” said Gedron. “One of their first actions after arriving on a new planet was to restore its ecological health, and soon the inhabitants would begin to experience enhanced lifespans and freedom from disease. But psychological health was another matter.”

  Trielle’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Many of the more independent worlds, despite their prosperity, grew to resent the rule that the Dar imposed. After all, a prison, no matter how well furnished, is still a prison. Regardless of how good our lives were, we knew we were still slaves. And so, as the centuries drew on, small insurrections began to flare up on various worlds. But none of these ever succeeded, and none were ever able to combine their efforts”

  “Why not?” asked Trielle. “Surely their goals could not have been that incompatible.”

  “It had nothing to do with goals,” said Gedron. “Remember that only the Dar could surmount the lightspeed barrier. It is not as if their technology could simply have been stolen by rebel groups; it was native to the biology of the creature and those it transformed. And because of the immmense distances between them there was simply no way for the groups to band together and combine their efforts. But then Ronath Larid and Anthron Rashavey of Terra developed the first ring prototype. We knew about the potential risks, but these seemed remote compared to the possibility of finally having an advantage.”

  Suddenly Trielle understood. Despite the danger the new technology presented, it was better than servitude to the Dar.

  “The first laridian rings were built in secret, and used only to connect resistance groups from different star systems,” continued Gedron, “but it wasn’t long before they realized that the rings could also be used as weapons. As the individual rebel groups banded together, their scholars developed a philosophy to embody what it was they were fighting for: the freedom of personal choice the Dar had taken from them. We know that philosophy today as the Axioms and Corollaries. Eventually a critical mass was reached and the resistance, now calling itself the Conclave of Worlds, launched simultaneous assaults against the forces of the Dar on a thousand different worlds. Larid himself coordinated the first attacks. It took the Dar by surprise, but they quickly mobilized and the Philosoph War began. That war lasted for over two centuries.”

  As Trielle considered Gedron’s words a vague suspicion began to form in her mind. “How long did it take for the entropy clouds to form?” she asked coldly.

  “About a century,” said Gedron quickly, as if he had been anticipating her question. “You have to understand Trielle, they weren’t visible as clouds initially. Instead, we gradually lost the ability to see distant parts of the universe. First the superclusters vanished, and then the galaxies of the Local Group. Even when Andromeda, our closest sister galaxy, disappeared, no one gave the phenomenon the consideration it deserved. The leaders of the Conclave were aware of Rashavey’s projections, of course, and were suspicious about the new astronomical observations, but the war was in its hottest phase and the laridian rings were the only real weapon we had against the Anastasi. Rashavey himself urged their continued use. Then the green mist coalesced around the outer fringes of our galaxy, consuming the stars of the rim one by one, and we couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

  “We tried to preserve as many worlds as we could, Terra included, by gathering them in great super-systems and herding them toward the center of the galaxy, even thought that meant a massive use of the laridian rings. Most of the Conclave was based in the outer rim, and abandoning those worlds would have meant losing, so we had no choice. At least, that’s what we told ourselves.”

  “How did the war end?” asked Trielle.

  “Eventually the Conclave and its armada of worlds reached the Dar Ekklesia’s fortress-capitol of Hyrosol Neos, a golden city the size of a moon orbiting within the accretion disk of Sagittarius A* (the voidstar that used to exist in the center of the old galaxy). The Conclave never hesitated. We turned the full force of the rings onto the fortress, hoping to drive it into the voidstar and end the war. The battle was catastrophic. Space was twisted and warped by our laridian ring-based weaponry as we fought the Anastasi, and even with these devices we were outnumbered. Then… it… took the field of battle.”

  “You mean the creature?” prompted Trielle.

  “Yes,” said Gedron. “There are no surviving images of the battle, those were all destroyed over a thousand years ago, but the one surviving description of its appearance is truly frightening. A vast shape like a man the size of a world, ringed with countless burning eyes. Six wings of flaming crystal stretched wider than a solar system. A face of living solar plasma, blazing with terrible light. Just as our despair threatened to overwhelm us, it is said that the creature cried a single tear of white fire and vanished, taking with it the Anastasi and the bulk of its armies. Then, Hyrosol Neos and Sagittarius A* vanished as a burning green curtain descended on the battlefield. We won, but paid a tremendous price.”

  “The galaxy was gone, wasn’t it?” asked Trielle softly.

  “All but three stars and a sixty-five thousand cubic light-minute volume of space had been lost to the entropy clouds,” said Gedron grimly. “But we were free. We set up gravitic nodes on each world, and used them to combine the separate super-systems of worlds into one great structure of interlocking orbits, the Conclave as you know it today. Although the vast majority of those loyal to the Dar Ekklesia had either been killed or had vanished with the creature, a small remnant had been left behind. They were given the choice to either join the Conclave or be confined to a reservation, unable to ever leave. To a one they chose confinement. We established a new government based on the Axioms, and moved the three remaining stars to the center of the Conclave in hope that their combined radiation could slow the advance of the clouds. The leaders of the time knew that most Conclave citizens did not understand the real reason for the entropy clouds’ existence, and embarked on a plan of suppression, blaming the weapons used by the Dar in the last battle. Eventually, it was decided to alter the historical records even further, removing any references to the Dar in the name of freeing us from even the memory of their tyranny. All agreed. After all, the Corollaries say that the world means what we want it to. From that time on, only the highest leaders of the Conclave, the Heirophants, were told our actual history. Now, you know as well. Not that it will make a difference.”

  Trielle’s mind raced. Though there was still much to learn, some things were finally beginning to fall into place. She thought back to Rashavey’s manuscript, its odd terms and phrasing, and smiled grimly at her naiveté as she saw for the first time what it really was: a military briefing. Then she remembered Anacrysis’ note, and a new question formed in her mind.

  “Father,” said Trielle, “You mentioned a reservation where remnants of the Dar Ekklesia were confined. Does it still exist?”

  “Yes,” said Gedron. “It is located on a barren moon that circles one of the brown dwarfs of the Guard.”

  “Is its name En-ka-re?”

  “How did you know that?” asked Gedron, his eyes wide with shock.

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Trielle as she swiftly rose to her feet, “but I know where I have to go.”

  “Trielle, En-Ka-re is heavily guarded by Conclave soldiers,” said Gedron. “Only the Entrope has access.”

  “Somehow I think I will make it,” she said, the hint of a smile forming on her lips. “But I need your help, Father. Can you delay the deployment of the Vacuum Sculptors?”

  “I don’t have as much authority as I once did, but I can try,” he said with a sigh. “Though I don’t see what difference such a delay will make.”

  “Please trust me, Father,” pleaded Trielle as she ran to the transit tube. “Someone I trust said that when Garin returned, he would be in need of what I found. I need time to finish that task.”

  As
the transit tube doors closed around Trielle, the last thing she saw was a faint gleam of hope in her Father’s eyes.

  Chapter 21: The Cities of the Plain

  The blazing afternoon sun beat down upon the dusty plains with almost physical force. The air was dense and still. With dogged steps, Garin drove himself forward toward a faint dark line that loomed on the far horizon.

  The accursed city of the plain, Hyrosol Eld.

  He did not know how long he had been traveling. It felt like months since he had dined with Hyperion, but time was fluid in Mythos, and the sun had risen and set only once since he had found the Mariner. His eyes momentarily lost focus as he recalled the journey.

  ***

  The far pass from the Sepulcher of Suns had lead to a broad valley festooned with flowers. The valley sloped gently downward through the mountains, eventually opening though a gap in the foothills onto a broad strand of grey sand at the edge of a dark ocean. The waters were an ominous violet, but by this time the sun had neared the far horizon and its evening rays painted the surface of the water with flashes of joyful orange fire that almost concealed the inscrutable depths beneath.

  At the edge of the sea, amidst the swirling breakers, stood a great black silhouette framed by the rays of the dying sun, its front lit only by a bright red spark that danced and leapt against the dark backdrop. From the distance he heard a strange, faint susurrus of animal sounds. As he approached, the shape resolved into a towering ship of cyclopean dimensions, a vast deep brown slab of wood and pitch, and the sounds increased in volume, transforming into a bestial cacophony. The red spark was revealed to be a campfire, beside which stood a tall, bare-shouldered man wearing a deep blue loincloth about his waist that was decorated with stylized images of waves. Garin felt certain that he had found the mariner.

  The Mariner proved to be a man of few words, but made it clear to Garin that he was welcome here, and, after he had eaten his fill from the remnant of the mariner’s evening meal, they entered the ship and the door shut behind them of its own accord. They swiftly climbed a rugged wooden staircase through the lower decks, which were filled with vast open pens occupied by every conceivably type of animal. The boat began heaving as they ascended, and Garin wondered what was happening outside.