by Paul Anlee
The Entreaty usually required around ten repetitions before a starstep received Alum’s blessing and became activated, sometimes more at the frontier. In the case of larger Alumitas in more established centers, the use of pleasing melodic instruments or complicated vocal harmonies might speed Alum’s approval, reducing the number of repetitions required.
Once established, a connection would remain open for as long as the chanting continued and remained pleasing to Alum. Breaks in the connection before the completion of a transfer were dreadful embarrassments to the local Alumita. In populous centers supporting higher volumes of inter-planetary travel, multiple starsteps were kept continuously open by the never-ending songs of large choirs. One might surmise that the secret starstep for a Shard would require much less effort to acquire Alum’s attention.
“What? Oh, that. Uhh…, no.” Darak replied, only half-listening, while directing most of his auditory attention to something as yet unseen.
What could the Shard be listening for?—Stralasi wondered. He could hear nothing at all.
Eventually satisfied, Darak took a seat on a large boulder. “Now is not the time for prayer,” he said. “Now is the time for patience, and for paying attention. Soon we will learn something new.”
He closed his eyes, and enjoyed the gentle breeze and warm sun on his face while he still could.
7
The shrill warning chime announcing an imminent starstep transfer broke through the blessedly perfect stillness of the Alumston Transportation Ceraffice.
Startled to attention, Brother Yonteg swung his feet from the desk and dropped his skillfully balanced chair back onto all four legs.
That’s weird. We don’t have any shipments of goods or personnel scheduled. He queried the InterLat. No, nothing scheduled, and nothing ordered since I came on duty.
Thankfully, he hadn’t allowed another request to slip by again. The last time that happened, he received a probationary warning and threat of reassignment outside the Alumita should he be found less than diligent in future.
Yonteg fired off a quick message to notify Brother Stralasi of the unexpected activation. An immediate reply bounced back from the InterLat: Brother Stralasi is currently unavailable.
Oh, that’s right—he realized. Brother Stralasi went off-world with the Shard of Alum. Brother Westlock is the acting Head Brother. I wish I could stay awake through the morning meetings.
He refocused, and set about compiling an InterLat alert to the Acting Head Brother. A second chime signaled the completion of the starstep transfer. He glanced over. Who would arrive outside the scheduled transfers?—he wondered. The answer drained the color from his face. Great Alum, save us!
Standing on the clean white disk of the starstep was an Angel of Alum, accompanied by two hovering spherical Securitors. Yonteg gulped.
The Angel was fearsome to behold. Over three meters tall, his quicksilver skin flowed continuously, reflecting distorted images of the surrounding chamber. Opalescent wings shone with a brilliant internal light. His muscular body was naked except for his sandals and a black loincloth secured with a strap holding a sapphire sword in its scabbard. He was magnificent to behold, but the arrogant sneer curling his upper lip brought terror to the heart.
Most people only ever glimpsed an Angel as it left Home World for battle. They were few—they numbered under a million across all of The Realm—but their power was unrivaled.
One hundred Angels could vaporize an entire solar system; the sparsely scattered nebulae in remote, untraveled parts of several galaxies were a testament to their proclivity for destructive enforcement of Alum’s Law. Where a Shard of Alum might be seen as gathering intelligence, evaluating, and judging, an Angel simply meant death. Quick and merciless death. Often in mind-numbing scope.
The pair of companion Securitors, as big around as the Angel was tall, were almost as terrifying. They were profoundly black, absorbing light from their surroundings. Their appearance gave the impression of an absence of anything tangible, holes in space, rather than discrete objects. It was practically impossible to discern their precise boundaries and, if you dared look closely, you could imagine falling into an infinite well. The sensation was said to have a basis in fact. Rumor also had it that, among many other magical and miraculous powers, the Securitors contained their own internal hells, capable of swallowing entire cities into an endlessly imploding nothingness.
Stepkeeper Yonteg fell to the floor. He cried for the imminent loss of his own life, and that of his friends and co-workers, and for the end of this promising little planet. He couldn’t imagine what crime brought an Angel to rain destruction on Gargus 718.5, but he was certain that it must have been a great affront to Alum to cause Him to dispatch one of His most feared and powerful agents.
The Angel stepped from the disc and stopped in front of the quivering Yonteg, extending a hand to help the monk to his feet. “Rise, Brother!” His mellifluous voice filled the chamber from all directions at once with a blend of love, compassion, humor, and a compelling strength of command.
Brother Yonteg looked up, amazed that he was not yet dead.
The two Securitors moved to cover the main entrances to the Starstep Reception.
The Angel pulled the astonished Brother effortlessly to his feet. The man struggled not to run screaming. He swallowed his terror and squeaked out, “H…H…How may I serve you, my Lord?”
The Angel smiled his beautiful, terrifying smile and thrummed his powerful wings once. “You may address me as Lord Mika. I understand you recently received a visitor?”
Brother Yonteg had no doubt about whom the Angel was speaking. “Yes, Lord Mika. The Lord Darak, Shard of Alum.”
Lord Mika smiled more broadly, which somehow only made him more terrifying. “Yes, Shard Darak.” His voice slithered over the holy man’s title. “And where is Shard Darak at the moment?”
“He left this morning with Brother Stralasi to journey to Home World.”
The Angel mulled that over. “I have scanned the activation records for this starstep and detect no transfer record other than my own. Nothing was documented passing in or out since the last recorded shipment over eighty-seven hours, twenty-one minutes ago.”
“Shard Darak arrived by means other than the public starstep, Lord Mika, Sir. He and Brother Stralasi left on foot, presumably to return to his secret starstep to the west.”
“Interesting,” remarked the Angel. He scanned the room, and settled his gaze on the anxious man before him.
Brother Yonteg’s head exploded in pain. His jaw opened to scream, but no sound escaped. In no more than a few seconds, his head was completely and mercilessly reamed to extract every detail of the past two days.
Every vision, sound, smell, and feeling was wrenched forcefully to the front of the monk’s conscious attention in one overwhelming, excruciating, cacophonous burst. His mind struggled without success to make sense of the re-experiencing.
And then it was over. Brother Yonteg was left reeling and nauseated from the whirl of unbidden memories. Released, he collapsed to the floor holding his pounding head in his hands. Lord Mika’s mind scan had not been gentle.
8
“Interesting,” repeated Lord Mika as he reviewed Brother Yonteg’s memories of the previous night.
All twelve Brothers, monks of the Alumita, had been invited to dine with Brother Stralasi and Shard Darak on their last night on the planet.
Although nobody included him directly in the conversation, Brother Yonteg was able to follow most of what was said from his seat at the far end of the table. At one point, feeling emboldened by Darak’s friendly and open manner, and owing to a generous portion of the Alumita’s best wine, Yonteg asked the Shard if he might perform a small miracle for the Brothers.
The Angel, Mika, watched the whole event play out vividly on an isolated sub-lattice of his mind.
* * *
“Lord Darak has more important things to do than exhibit his powers for our amusement,”
Brother Stralasi chastised. The Shard graciously put the monk’s objections to rest and assured them that it would be his pleasure. “Please, if someone would dim the lights for us,” he requested.
Holding his hands slightly apart, a glowing ball of blue fire emerged between them, hovering over the remnants of his dinner. He moved his hands, rotating the fist-sized ball this way and that. The Brothers applauded encouragingly and asked for more.
Darak parted his hands, releasing the glowing globe to float freely. It rose gently, rhythmically expanding and contracting as if it were breathing. Upon reaching the ceiling, it descended a meter or so, and then bobbed unsteadily into each of the four corners of the hall, like a balloon caught in a breeze. As it neared each successive corner, it traced a small vertical circle, leaving behind a yellow toroid that started to rotate as the sphere moved on.
Centering itself between the soft, yellow, twirling donuts, the sphere resumed its original position above the mesmerized audience. They cooed appreciatively as the bobbing sphere transformed into a glimmering pyramid with a delicately fluted pinnacle that started spurting red luminescence, like lava from a volcano.
Identical fountains materialized between the corners of the room, and the liquid light danced wildly for several more seconds, spraying droplets in all directions. Much to everyone's delight, the four outer fountains rose above the diners’ heads, and started moving clockwise around the center one, slowly at first and then faster, until the room became a kaleidoscopic blur of blue and red. With a loud “pop!” the spinning halted, and all five fountains and the spinning toroids exploded in a shower of brilliant rainbow droplets of light.
* * *
“Cheap mind tricks,” muttered the Angel. He had to admit, though, Darak had demonstrated a masterful command of the InterLat broadcast function. For a non-augmented human—even for one with access to secret knowledge of lattice technology—hacking into the perceptions of twelve individuals at one time without using a visible induction matrix was pretty impressive. Good enough to astound the dim-witted masses, in any case.
On the other hand, while such illusions were trivial for a real Shard to perform, they were not of sufficient caliber to verify a person’s claim of a holy connection to Alum. Not like the time-honored miracles of curing a deadly disease or changing water into wine, for example.
As a level-headed Angel and an unflappable strategist, Lord Mika concluded that perhaps Alum was reacting somewhat overzealously.
So what, if some unknown person claiming to be a Shard makes an unscheduled visit to this lonely planet on the edge of the Da’arkness? Why should that matter to Alum?
Granted, there was that niggling mystery of how the audacious poser had arrived. Had he hacked the starstep, hiding traces of his arrival and origin? It was entirely conceivable that a renegade engineer with the skill set this man possessed might be capable of pulling off such a feat. Even at that, it seemed frivolous to employ an Angel for such basic policing duty.
But Angels do as Alum commands—he reminded himself. If Alum thinks an Angel’s presence is warranted, it is my duty to be here.
He did not consider it heretical to question the judgment of the Living God. Over the ages, Alum had endowed the Angels with adequate programming to match their great power. He had come to trust that the combination was crucial in ensuring His Will was followed. As trusted enforcers of Alum’s Will, Angels wielded high levels of independence and discretion. In Alum’s Name, they were sent to dangerous places, home worlds of advanced alien races and asteroid warrens of renegade colonies, and were often out of communication for extended periods. In many cases, simplistic, mindless execution of guidelines from thousands of light years away could lead to unfortunate setbacks in the Divine Plan.
Lord Mika resumed his scrutiny of Brother Yonteg’s memories.
* * *
As light from the fountains died down, the stars in the clear night sky became visible. The stars! The Brothers looked around, once again in utter amazement. Sometime during the light display, the entire dinner assembly was transferred from inside the Residence to the lawn outside in the middle of Center Park. Everything on and around the table was still in place. No one had sensed any movement and yet, here they were, surrounded by grass, flowers, and tall trees framing the night sky. They applauded and cheered, drawing the startled attention of people strolling along nearby paths. Passersby gathered around to hear excited stories of the Shard’s miraculous display. A smiling Darak humbly accepted the praise and adoration of the Brothers and their flock.
* * *
Okay, so that was a neat trick—Lord Mika acknowledged. Darak’s considerable skill at mental manipulation had convinced several hundred people at once of a single, shared hallucination. But from the response of the passersby, relocation of the dining table from the hall to the park outside was, by all appearances, an actual, physical transfer. How could that be possible? No one other than Alum, Himself, had that power!
Maybe Alum was right to send an investigating Angel, after all. If Darak’s powers were real, even if they were based on technology rather than Divine Grace, he could pose a threat to the Realm. I have to confirm.
He reviewed the recent memories of the remaining population of Alumston, searching out those who had interacted with Darak. The citizens of the town received no more than a few seconds warning by InterLat before the Angel plunged into their minds. They dropped whatever they were doing and sat or laid down wherever where ever they could for the next several minutes, as Lord Mika simultaneously, and painfully, examined their memories to find those from the several hundred who had met with the false Shard.
Weaving together the many images, he formed a complete picture of the man, Darak. He saw how it was only the proclamation by Brother Stralasi, and not by Darak himself, that had led the townspeople to believe he was a Shard of Alum.
Darak seemed like a kind man, knowledgeable about details prohibited to the general population but, otherwise, not overly special. Were it not for the post-dinner theatrics and lack of transfer record, Lord Mika would not have thought anything of him at all. Yes, we will have to locate and interrogate this Darak in order to clear up the mystery.
Which brought to mind the other detail bothering the Angel: he could find no trace of either Darak or Brother Stralasi on the InterLat. The planetary satellite system was in place and its self-diagnostics didn’t indicate any functional issues.
If the two men were on the planet, they should be registering an InterLat signature and location.
If Darak was hiding their presence, that would make him an extraordinarily talented engineer, and blatant breaker of Alum’s laws. Such skills and knowledge should situate him, mentally and physically, within the upper echelons of the technological elite on Home World, not traveling around like some vagabond on the edge of civilization.
Their public travel plans matched the memories of those they encountered as they left town. They were headed for the foothills to the west of Alumston.
It should be easy enough to locate them there. He left the Alumston Transportation Ceraffice, with his Securitor Cybrids trailing close behind. They rose a few dozen meters into the air and sped westward.
9
Brother Stralasi was growing hot and impatient. He had been meditating cross-legged on the hard, dry ground for over an hour and he was eager to be on the way.
As Head Brother, he wasn't accustomed to waiting for people. Quite the contrary. He glanced over at Shard Darak, a motionless and inscrutable pillar, who had not stirred the whole time. Even a Shard’s rear end must be growing numb by now—Stralasi grumbled.
As if hearing the monk’s unspoken words, Darak rose. He looked eastward, back toward town.
“What is it, my Lord?” Stralasi inquired.
“Our wait is coming to an end. Now we will learn how Alum deals with surprises.”
The words were spoken clearly enough, and yet they made no sense to Stralasi. The monk unfolded his stiff, aching l
egs and cajoled his frame upright, to better see what had attracted Darak’s attention.
Three small dots punctuated the blue sky above the hills a kilometer away. They swept to the left, and then to the right, executing a narrow search pattern.
Stralasi was a learned man, having spent several years at the Home World Alumita Seminary. He recognized the advancing dots immediately. Securitors! What are they doing here? Is this Darak’s missing entourage? Have they come to escort us?
He raised his arm and waved a helpful greeting. The Securitors ceased scanning and headed directly for the pair. As they drew closer, Stralasi saw they were not three Securitors, but two Securitors and an Angel. An Angel!
He had encountered Angels on Home World, and so was not as terrified as the common man might have been. He knew that he was so far beneath the notice of an Angel, he had nothing to fear. Had any of his transgressions merited Alum’s disciplinary attention, he would have been a smoking cinder long ago. So, what could they want?
The Angel settled gently to the ground a few meters in front of Darak. The pair of Securitors took positions on either side of the men. Darak waited patiently while the Angel studied him.
The Angel smiled, though there was neither welcome nor comfort in the gesture. “I am Lord Mika, Commander of the Alutius Wing. My Cybrids detect nothing to draw you to this place.” His voice was the most beautiful sound Stralasi had ever heard. It resonated all around him and echoed lightly off the nearby hills.
Darak returned the smile. “Yet here I am, and so here,” he swept his arms outward, palms up as if showcasing the desert view for their visitor’s appreciation, “must be where I intended to be.”
The Angel’s smile grew broader and colder. “Yes, we have questions about how you came to be here but, first, we will know who you are,” he commanded.