Remember the call from Gysell? Your comm had gone dead-some sort of jamming.
Not long after that the roof exploded from a direct hit. You were thrown to the floor amidst the wreckage. I pulled you out, blasted a way through to the shuttle hangar, and slipped out as Sinklar Fist's LCs landed on the roof.
"But Sinklar was under arrest! So were most of his . No , I don't . . . remember." But through the haze, eerie shadows of memory slipped like phantoms: An image of Arta, naked and bloody, hair wild and unkempt, raising a blaster ... rubble, falling ... Ily's arm bracing herself up ... blood zigzagging down her pale skin.... Fist! How did he getfree? He could,,,t. No one escapedfrom her cells. But. . . "MacRuder!"
"Yes, dear, old, loyal MacRuder. Sinklar's pet puppy. You said MacRuder had evaded your net. " Arta crossed her arms and sighed. "You could thank Marshal Mykroft for failing to apprehend MacRuder and his people-but he's dead. Killed in the attack. I just wish I knew how MacRuder organized' so quickly.-
"I don t remember anything after ... after ... Ily touched her forehead hesitantly, as if she half expected to find bone shards protruding; she only found a swollen bruise. "It's all hazy. I was bleeding ... on the hangar floor, I think."
"You passed out. I dragged you through the debris and into the shuttle. When I had us out of range of MacRuder's guns, I started for orbit. "
Rotted Hell, how had it all gone so wrong? Ily struggled to focus her thoughts. "It's only a setback. Sinklar's a freak. How do you think the people will react when we broadcast Professor Adam's analysis of his genetic makeup?
We lost a little time, that's all, Arta. He's still vulnerable."
"Hear the rest, Ily. "
Rest? What more could have gone wrong? Ily glared up at Arta through slitted eyes.
"We'd just reached altitude when the detectors picked up ships-assault craft I wasn't familiar with. I matched with my yacht and kicked the shuttle loose figuring it might have been observed. If no one found it, it'should have reentered the atmosphere and burned.
"So, I'm on your yacht?"
Arta gave her a grim smile. "It wouldn't surprise me if the Wing Commander didn't want it back one of these days, but, yes, for the moment you might say it's mine. Ownership, however, is a minor matter compared to our current situation. You see, on the way out of Rega we were hailed. I have a nasty suspicion about those assault craft."
Ily pressed at the lumpy bruise on her forehead while an ugly sensation filled her gut. "Companions. Right?" "Apparently so. Which is why I didn't recognize the ship design. That's why-for the moment, at least-we're still alive. Skyla's yacht evidently has some signature their sensors recognize. One of the Regan military cruisers tried to break out. They didn't last a full minute. "
Pus Rot you, Ily. How many times did Sinklar warn you? Except she hadn't listened. For the second time, she'd underestimated Staffa kar Therma's response to her actions. Once, on Etaria, she'd offered both herself and an empire, only to be flatly turned down. This time, she'd abducted his Wing Commander and lover, hoping to dicker and delay while she found a way to break him once and for all. What she'd taken as Staffa's bluster had been sober warning. The Lord Commander had begun preparing his fleet from the day he'd escaped from Targa-the way Sinklar had said he would.
Ily turned her head away, feeling ill. She'd been so closevictory but a hand's grasp away. Sinklar had served his purpose, stunning the Sassan Empire, reorganizing the military, and providing the strategy whereby even an idiot like Mykroft could hammer the Companions. Ily's loyal minions had infiltrated all of the critical functions of government, gathering the real reins of power.
But where did they stand now? "What word from Rega?" Arta shook her head.
"None. I think Rega has been conquered, Ily. The Lord Commander controls the planet. The only subspace comes from Itreata-more of those wretched Seddi broadcasts. "
"Still preaching a new epistemology?"
"That's right, but they've added an appeal for calm while order is restored.
This Magister Dawn is assuring the people-Sassan and Regan-that the wars are over. She even mentions you ... calls you the last relic of empire. "'
"I should have killed her when I had the chance." Ily forced herself to sit up, senses spinning as she almost toppled over.
"Ily, lie down. I checked you over. You've got a slight concussion, bruises, and cuts. You need to rest. Another day or two, and you'll be fine. "
"I'm fine now. We've got to act, begin to reestablish our control before-"
"It's over, Ily. " Arta placed strong hands on her shoulders, easing her back onto the bedding. "Sinklar and Staffa are working together. That much came through on the Seddi broadcast. The important thing now is to stay alive. Do you understand? They're going to be hunting us throughout Free Space. "
Ily's concentration failed her as pain stabbed through her skull. "All right.
I'll just rest a while longer. But Arta, where are we? Can they track us?
Follow the radiation?"
Arta dropped down and stretched out beside Ily, the action catlike and graceful. Arta flipped her glossy hair out of the way to stare longingly at Ily. "Eventually, perhaps. But for now, we're safe. "
"Thank you for taking care of me. I guess I owe you." Unease continued to prickle through Ilys soul. Something important needed to be done. Something...
Arta smiled wistfully. "You're all I have left, Ily. I didn't have time to go back after Skyla. " Her eyes lost focus as she gazed into the distance.
"Dearest Skyla.
"You loved her, didn't you?"
"Almost as much as I love you, Ily. But she was different. She fought me-came so close to winning. It took a long time to wear her down, destroy her resistance. I won in the end. Used your advice as a matter of fact. You told me to consider my opponent and to make my plans. That seeking to crush her in a single blow might not be adequate. How right you were. I wore Skyla down, eroded her will to resist until she lost faith in herself. Then she crawled to me, begging. "'
"What fascinated you so) " Skyla ... something she'd said.... Ily wracked her brain. If only she could remember.
"She's so different from you, Ily." Arta fingered Ily's long black hair.
"You're a warrior of the darkness ... she, of the light. The two of you are as different as your hair. Yours dark, hers pale. You act in the shadows, lethal in your misdirection, intrigue, and cunning. Skyla is a woman of direct attack, powerful, deadly, striking as swiftly as a Cytean cobra."
"You admired her?"
Arta's eyes gleamed with an eerie passion. "I loved her . . .and I made her love me. " A pause. "You love me, too, don't you, Ily? "
"Yes. I love you, too." Ily closed her eyes, hardly aware as Arta bent over to kiss her tenderly. Ily's mind raced, trying to outstrip the haze that was descending on her like ammonia snow on Terguz. No, it was not over. It never would be. She had to do something important . . . about the Ministry. At the thought, Skyla Lyma's image returned. Ily could see her strapped to the interrogation chair, naked, drugged, and shivering. What had Skyla told her?
Something about a woman Staffa loved ... and a man who loved her. Skyla would be the key to getting even with Staffaand, of course, with Sinklar Fist as well.
CHAPTER 2
Field Report: Social and Political Climate-Terguz Submitted by: Karla Monhov, Initiate, Second Class Submitted to: Magister Kaylla Dawn; Itreata.
Re: Political Stability-Terguz.
As of the date of this report, conditions on Terguz are stable. Generally, the reaction of the population to the announcement of the Companions' conquest of Rega has been one of disbelief tempered by uncertainty. Most of the planet's industry and production services shut down at the news, people congregating in taverns and public facilities to await information and discuss the events.
Of particular relevance, Magister Dawn's Seddi Broadcasts have been the major topic of conversation as people attempt to determine whether the Star Butcher really concurs with the new epistem
ology. A statement to that effect could effectively stall any panic or demonstrations. The Director of Internal Security here, Gyper Rill, has acknowledged the conquest and asked for calm and forbearance. Rill will hold a meeting for the Union leaders to discuss the situation. He has Pledged to work with the new government.
The Administrator, Frederick Gaust, on the other hand, has vowed to fight until the last drop of Regan blood is shed. While it should be noted that Gaust maintains . 1e political clout with the common people. The power here belongs to Rill. Future stability on Terguz will depend both on Rill's political aspirations within the new government and the implementation of Companion policies in line with Seddi teachings.
Magister Kaylla Dawn walked wearily through the underground corridors in Itreata. A stoop bowed her normally square shoulders. She wore a long white robe tightly belted around her thin waist by a rope that held an incongruous comm pack. Her narrow feet bore sandals that whispered and slapped on the ceramic tiles that paved the long hallway. The Seddi Magister was a tall woman, lithe, and athletic; she walked with a poise and inherent grace that drew the eye. When she raised a hand to brush back her shoulderlength brown hair, the action displayed a smooth-muscled, tanned forearm. Her hands appeared work-hardened and callused.
With her square-jawed face and blunt nose, no one would have labeled her a beauty. Nevertheless, when Kaylla entered a room, attention inexorably centered on her. She carried herself proudly; a self-possessed radiance seemed to surround her. After one glance into those hard tan eyes, not even a fool underestimated Kaylla Dawn-for she had looked upon the naked fires of Hell, and the reflection lingered.
She approached the end of the long white corridor, the robe rippling around her long legs. At the light panel before the hatch that sealed the corridor's end, she stopped, tension in the set of her mobile mouth. She took a deep breath, then spoke: "Magister Bruen? Kaylla Dawn has come to speak with you."
The speaker above the door remained mute.
" Magister, I won't go away. You will speak to me. Finally the speaker issued a rusty voice. "I have nothing to say, my child. Go away. Leave me in peace.
Kaylla crossed her arms, glaring up at the speaker, knowing the optical system carried her image to the old man. "I'm afraid events have made that impossible. Magister, you will speak to me, even if I have to override this lock, drag you out, and force Mytol past your lips to do it."
She waited through a long silence.
" Very well," the ancient voice rasped in defeat. "Enter. "
As the hatch slipped back, she entered a foyer consisting of curving white walls. To one side rested a comm terminal.
Unerringly, she proceeded into a main room, turned to her right, and climbed a spiral of steps cut into the rock.
She stepped out under a transparent tactite dome through which the stars glinted and winked. Despite the vacuum beyond, space seemed to shimmer a fluorescent blue. The Twin Titans, an RR Lyrae-type binary system, created the effect, their brilliant blue-white light radiating off the very atoms of the void. Nor was that the only irregularity. Many of the stars and constellations appeared smeared-their light bent and diffracted from the gravitic effects of the Forbidden Borders.
Kaylla took in the sight as she always did, stopping for a moment to stare up at the heavens spread above the orphaned moon of Itreata. The Forbidden Borders mocked her-and she finally had to admit they might have won.
"Have things gone so badly you have to threaten me?" Kaylla grudgingly turned her attention to the old man who floated weightlessly over a gravity couch. To look at him, he might have been the oldest man in existence. His bald scalp gleamed in the light, molding to the bulbous bones of his skull. His face consisted of a mass of wrinkles, now curiously full under the effects of weightlessness. The once bright blue eyes had gone dull, the folds of flesh on his thin neck puffy.
Kaylla cocked her head as she considered Bruen. Once in control of the Seddi, his machinations had helped to lead them to these dire straits. "We're going to die, Bruen. All of us. Every man, woman, and child in Free Space."
"You tell that to an old man?" He turned his head slowly to stare up at the stars. "We all die, Kaylla. From the moment a sperm penetrates an egg, that inevitability exists. The only variable is time. And now, mine is so short."
"The species is going extinct," she insisted. "The quanta are having their final laugh.'
He grinned, a smile on a death's head. "Don't tell me about the dance of the quanta. They've had their laugh at my expense-and my soul twists and aches at the thought of it. The humor of the quanta is an acid drink at best."
"Staffa has taken Rega-broken them. Countermeasures worked. He jammed all of their communications. On his first pass, he destroyed the government buildings, flattened their administration centers, Comm Central, the Defense Directorate, and the Economics Bureau. If you think of a human body as an analogy, Staffa cut out the brain." '
"Yes, yes, I know. I read his synopsis of the operation. The idea was to graft Imperial Sassan communications into the Regan corpse." He paused, lifting an eyebrow. "I take it something went wrong with the operation? The patient is dying? "
Kaylla paced, glancing at the old man from the corner of her eye. "The quanta intervened. You know what Sinklar Fist's preemptive strike did to Sassa - "
"Sinklar! He's a monster! To think I once allowed my emotions to cloud my good sense. I should have dashed his brains out on a rock when he was an infant!
Yes, yes, cunning Sinklar ordered MacRuder to take Qyton and hit Imperial Sassa. Mac drove a starship into the giant military base at Mikay. In effect, he single-handedly castrated His Holiness' ability to wage war, offensive, or defensive, and destroyed a whole fleet in the process - "
"Fist acted in desperation. He needed time to retrain the Regan military in his tactics, but it's the results that concern us here. The impact upset the crustal dynamics of the planet. The Legate, Myles Roma-working in collusion with Staffa-expected to take control, to administer all of Free Space through his computer complex adjacent to the Sassan Capitol building. That imperative grew as the ramifications of MacRuder's strike became clear. Five hundred million died in the initial attack. Imperial Sassa's climatic disruptions froze seedling crops in the fields. The Sassan Empire had been overextended to begin with, and MacRuder's blow sounded a death knell for all of their holdings. Today they can't produce enough food to feed Imperial Sassa-and without the administrators there to coordinate the empire's needs, it will spread. Planets like Ryklos, Farhome, Malbourne, and Akita will perish for lack of spare parts, medicines, vital food stuffs, and other goods."
"Yes, yes, the Mag Comm, foul and accursed as it is, predicted all of that."
The old man waved his irritation at her. "What's the point? If Staffa's decapitated Rega, what's the problem?"
Kaylla bent over to stare into his filmy eyes, her skin prickling from proximity to the gravity field. "The problem, Magister, is that Imperial Sassa was tectonically unstable. When MacRuder drove the Markelos into the planet, the matter/antimatter reactor exploded with enough energy to shift the entire crust. We've heard from Myles. He has reported that the Capitol-and his computer complex-has just been leveled by an earthquake. The damage is . . . well, there's no telling if we could ever fix it. And we don't have the faintest idea if more quakes or tremors are coming. As it is, they've had several aftershocks."
Bruen slitted his eyes, a grim humor in his smile. "So the Lord Commander is no luckier than I was. He, too, can watch all of his plans erode to dust. I hope he's as happy with his ghosts and legacy as I am with mine."
She reached out, muscular hands pulling the old man up. Under her burning gaze, Bruen glanced away. "Rot you, Bruen. Don't you understand what we're talking about? Extinction! "
"All things die. Even you, Kaylla, one day. Both Sassa and Rega used Staffa's fancy computers. Can't Itreata-" "We don't have the damned software! We have one option left. There is another computer, one more powerful than anyth
ing Staffa's engineers have ever designed. That's what I came here to learn from you. And you're going to tell e-
'No! -everything about the machine. No one knows the Mag Comm like you do. Can it do the job? Can it coordinate the administration of Free Space? Integrate the economies of both empires? Does the machine have the software to do the job hidden away somewhere in its banks?"
Loathing was evident in the set of his pinched lips. "Tell me, Bruen. "
"Leave it buried in Makarta Mountain where it belongs, Kaylla. That machine is accursed, a malignancy."
"Can it handle the administration of Free Space?" "You're better off allowing humanity to fade into oblivion. Extinction is a better fate than slavery. And slaves you will be. Is that your goal? You've worn the collar. You survived the ordeal-raped and beaten. Is that your vision for humanity?" He shook his head. "Empower that machine, and you might as well snap a collar around every human being in Free Space and hand the Mag Comm the controls, for that's what you'll be doing in essence. Enslaving every one of us."
Heart pounding, she backed away from the vehement fear in his eyes. "But, Bruen, you dealt with it for years wore the helmet. You kept it at bay."
:'At the cost of my soul, girl." 'Can it keep us alive?"
"I can't imagine why not. The machine has incredible capabilities. "
"Yet you resisted them, kept your own agenda."
He worked his tongue as if his mouth had gone dry. "And look what it got me.
Ruin and pain. That's the legacy you'll leave humanity. Open that vault, Kaylla, and you'll live to hear your name reviled. Next to you, the Star Butcher will be called a saint."
:'If we can't figure out a way to-"
'Is that what you want, Kaylla? To be compared with the man who murdered your husband and children? Should I remind you? Take you back to that day on Maika?
Remember what happened? Your maid took your place, standing bravely beside your husband while the pulse rifles discharged. Staffa watched as her head exploded in a pink mist. "
Kaylla winced, the memories rushing unbidden from her subconscious. The odor of smoke and war clotted in her nose. Engraved sounds of defeat assailed her: Her children crying; hard laughter; whimpers from the dying; the sound of ripping fabric as one of Staffa's men tore her dress away and levered her legs apart. One of the servants sobbed hysterically behind her, but she'd barely noticed, her terrified gaze locked on her husband's face as he stood defiantly before the pock-marked wall. The whine of the rifle discharging, the popping sound of his head exploding. He dropped limply. So much dead meat.
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