‘Commander Trahern, I have reason to believe your life is at risk. I believe the Houses are trying to take over the Guard. To accomplish this end they scheme to place Colda, or some other of theirs unknown to us, in command. You are an impediment to their plan. Your consignment to the Box was an attempt to remove you. Their efforts may be more direct in future.’ Quartermaine paused then continued. ‘Commander Johnson, Specialist Celene, the Armourer and Nata share my belief on this.’ These words were said to inform but in a manner that also implied Trahern and Gati were to keep the matter confidential.
Trahern’s thin predatory smile seemed to welcome the advice of the threat to his life. That the Grey showed a reaction surprised Celene. Maybe he is becoming more human after all, she thought. It brought to mind his earlier snarl. Detecting the evidence of the Old Dan’s murder could account for that reaction. The panic that preceded it was still unexplained. Possibly claustrophobic? The lessons of this hard day prevented her from accepting that explanation too easily. Think it through, she told herself. He was cut off, as we all were, from the outside. That is what he reacted to. But then he found the needle laser entry points. He established connection with the outside through those and eased enough to move on to anger. Pinholes. How could he detect them? The special abilities Nata mentioned on the roof? Now she understood why he and the Armourer had been in awe of this ability. It did not seem human to her.
‘Commander Trahern, you and Gati head back now,’ ordered Quartermaine. ‘The rest of us will close up and follow. I don’t want this gathering to appear overlong.’ He handed Trahern the patch from the table. ‘Don’t forget this.’
Gati helped with a few shutters then hurried to catch up with Trahern. Celene followed him out. The bright light hurt her eyes. She stopped on the veranda to let them adjust. Behind her, she heard the sounds of the Armourer and Johnson letting down the last of the shutters. Although it was more secure, she did not like them leaving the house shut up. It is not what he intended, she thought. She walked down to his grave.
The low mound did not look out of place. Well, Dan, maybe there is something I can do for you after all. Vengeance, retribution. She believed in these. A man who built stone by stone and left his bones in the ground would also.
‘He never forgave me for not taking him with us against the Ships, old as he was. Now I have this,’ said Quartermaine by her side.
It was hard to see any reason for the old man’s death. He had been here so long, there should be no old scores to settle. Perhaps there was more to his connection with Trahern or he had seen something in Base or out here on the plain that threatened the Houses’ scheme. Regardless of the reason, Quartermaine would rightly feel responsible.
The Armourer and Johnson met them at the entrance to the farm. Like Base itself, there was no gate, only a gap. There was no physical reason for the fences. Some need of Tracka-dan’s to define his territory or separate it from the waste of the plain, she thought.
‘That was well done with the Grey, but dangerous,’ said Quartermaine.
‘Dangerous? Trahern reacts to little, his control is near absolute,’ said Celene. ‘We need more from him, not less.’
‘Not him, Gati,’ said Quartermaine. ‘He will not let you break Trahern. Do not try that again with him present.’
‘Did you see him move on Visco? And he didn’t know of our suspicions about the Houses then. That was pure feel,’ said the Armourer. ‘Gati carries a sharp blade and he is quick,’ he warned Celene. ‘He will not give you time to think.’
Celene had been aware of Gati’s movements in the room, but had not perceived the threat. Have to do better, girl, she told herself, this is supposed to be your specialty. Testing herself, she covertly studied her companions as they made their way back toward the wall, reading determination on Quartermaine, concentration on the Armourer, sadness on Johnson. The last was not only for Tracka-dan’s passing, they had been talking about killing each other again, she realised.
CHAPTER 14: THE SCHOLAR AND NATA
‘No, I can not see them from here,’ said the Scholar in response to Nata’s question. ‘My eyesight is not augmented for that sort of distance.’ The Scholar leant against the parapet on the top of the wall. Only his great height allowed him to see the plain beyond. The parapets were higher than normal along this section of roof, framing a sand-floored practice area open to the sky, part of Nata’s domain. He and Nata came here often.
The regular scraping sound behind him stopped and he knew Nata was studying him.
‘You are very tall. There is only one other person on Base that could look over that wall as you do,’ said Nata.
Nata was a good observer, his natural curiosity complimented by years of training. Much like myself, thought Elsewise. Perhaps that is why we are at ease with each other. Their discussions reminded him of his early schooling, a time when philosophies were bandied about with joyous abandon, before the rigours of specialised study set in. The small man did have an oblique way of thinking, however. Elsewise suspected he was leading back into their earlier discussion.
‘A PlanCon officer, acting as a special aide to Commander Colda, on Base only one year,’ said Elsewise, playing the game.
‘Could your recognition of him be reason enough for the attempt on you?’
‘Yes, but that information has been passed on. A response will be forthcoming.’
‘Could you hasten that response?’
Elsewise did not reply immediately. His answer would advance one thread of Nata’s argument. He could not see a way around it. ‘Yes.’
‘Then the threat remains,’ stated Nata. He resumed his work, shaping a long rod of fine-grained hardwood with smooth strokes of a hand plane. Elsewise had seen the finished products in racks in the training rooms below, although none were as long as this.
‘There will always be threats of that nature,’ said the Scholar.
‘Ha! This threat we have identified here and now.’ Nata waved away their argument. ‘But as you say, perhaps it is not important.’
Elsewise knew Nata was at his most cunning when dissembling and waited for him to continue.
‘That tall aide of Colda’s has been trained to fight.’
‘Are you making that staff for him?’ asked Elsewise.
‘No, it’s for you.’
‘What use would I make of it?’
‘You would hit people with it. I will show you.’
The quick exchange came to a halt. ‘I can not harm another, even in defence of my life,’ said Elsewise. We have been over this before, how can I help him understand? ‘Not only my training but possibly my nature prevents it.’
‘That other tall one has no such compunction,’ countered Nata. ‘He actively plots death, he would not restrain from the physical action.’
‘That is a perversion, inimical to his scholarship. It will destroy him,’ said Elsewise.
He continued sadly. ‘When we first met, you asked me if it was innate in man to kill. I advised that philosophy had not found the answer to this question. However, the immensity of the settled universe and the millennia of human experience have, for practical purposes. Base is your answer. Some humans will kill. All of you on Base have, perhaps without intent, but the result is the same. You are here because of an accord which places those who can kill in a role where it may be required. It also serves to remove that predisposition from the societies of the Inner Belt.’ A solution conceived and proposed by AI, those most logical and objective of beings, during the time that they served humankind. A solution completed by the sterilization those sentenced to life service incurred during the many unshielded conventional portions of the long trip to outposts such as this. ‘Life is not cheap on Base, as those here like to quote, but it is not sacred as it is through most of the universe.’ He had not meant it to sound like an admonition.
‘In that case, I will teach you how to not hit people with a staff,’ said Nata laying down the scraping tool. ‘Contrary to what
you may observe among my students, it is a much more difficult endeavour.’ He stretched the staff out and looked down its length, slowly spinning it in his palm. He gave a satisfied nod and picked up a piece of coarse sandpaper. ‘If Trahern has time, I will bring him up to assist. He has the abilities of a master in the realm of movement. I doubt he could teach, but he could demonstrate.’
Elsewise admired the way Nata had shifted the topic. The small man would return to talk of killing at another time. Now he is after my assessment of the Grey, thought Elsewise. Who is the scholar here? he asked himself. ‘He has been instructing the new Grey competently.’
‘To handle weapons and craft in the manner of all others, yes. But he will never fly like Trahern does now, for example,’ said Nata.
‘And why is that?’ inquired Elsewise.
‘Trahern has attained a level of perception I have only heard of achieved by masters after years of dedicated study,’ answered Nata.
‘He has had time for study. He was gone from Base for nine years.’ Elsewise left unspoken the question of teachers. He wished to see if Nata would voice the suspicion that had brought him across the galaxies.
‘In that time he learned, but quickly, I think, and unaided,’ said the small man. ‘His ordeal assisted. Having seen the void, he would know that which is not void, perceiving this in its entirety. He would need this perception to return, the enlightenment put into practice to enable him to interact with the barest presence of matter and energy at the edge of the void.’
An answer founded in the mysticism of his discipline, tinged with the practicality of the man himself, thought Elsewise. A lesson is not learned until put into practice. The latter part, however, could offer an alternative to an interventionist theory. ‘The Ships react in a similar manner. They fly like Trahern, perhaps better.’
‘Maybe they have been in the void also. Perhaps that is where they come from,’ said Nata explaining away the commonality. ‘I would not doubt the loyalty of one like Trahern.’
‘I came to Base because of the possibility of Ship involvement in his survival and return,’ said Elsewise. ‘Whether or not there was embodied in this possibility a traitorous act is of little importance when weighed against contact with the beings of the Ships. In all the time of our interaction, if you can call flying contests and outright hostilities that, there has been no communication. We have never encountered them outside their ships. Their craft can not be scanned and they self-destruct if captured. We do not know their form. They have troubled other Passage zones besides this that Base protects, yet we have not found occupied worlds or a settlement of any type. All we have encountered are their scouts and fighting craft.’ Elsewise took a breath then finished. ‘It would be greatly preferable for Trahern to be their agent.’
‘Their craft are the same size and shape as our own, suggesting that their form will be similar. We understand the way they fight, which implies that they think like us,’ countered Nata. ‘Slight differences in philosophy and technology are all that separate them from us.’
‘Slight is not the adjective I would choose for a technology that still eludes our understanding after decades of study,’ said Elsewise. ‘We do not know what binds their craft and unmakes them so completely. Theories have been advanced that they represent an incursion from another time or are from a universe of anti-matter, with a shielding technology which allows them to enter our space.’
‘The Armourer says that the technology of warfare has not changed significantly in millennia. That one day something different will come through the Passages and sweep us away. The Ships have not swept us away. They are not so different,’ concluded Nata.
Elsewise considered this point. It is valid, he thought. Another reason he enjoyed his time with Nata was the stimulation of these conversations. Nata would have made a fine scholar.
‘Anyway, why should the Inner Belt be so concerned?’ asked Nata. ‘The numbers we have encountered, even if they are a vanguard, are miniscule when considered against the might of the Inner Belt. For every Ship we have seen, there are a thousand worlds.’
‘The concern is part of something greater,’ answered Elsewise. Now we touch on one of the great mysteries. ‘A belief held by the mystics of the Inner Belt is that there is a life-force. This force is detectable only in its effect, by the development of life. One of the aspects of this force is a drive for change. It is not ‘known’ whether life-force is limitless or finite, but its flow does appear to be restricted. For eons most of it has resided in man, appropriated from all other creatures during humankind’s spread to the stars. But man has stagnated, neither we, nor our technology, as your Armourer has pointed out, have changed significantly in millennia. The worry among the mystics is that the life-force now flows stronger in another form, in AI or in other beings.’
‘So your study of the Ships is linked to this greater study,’ said Nata. ‘If the beings of the Ships are different to us, and they are experiencing rapid change and expansion, then this would have bearing on the central question, which is ‘Is there a life-force?’ concluded the small man.
‘Yes,’ said Elsewise, pleased with Nata’s grasp.
Nata waved away the obvious regard. ‘The concept is familiar to me, an aspect of being, accepted by the One Path although there is nothing in our teaching of restriction or flow. It is, simply that. Those that reach the highest levels of enlightenment are said to be able to sense it. I can not offer proofs, for this is an individual attainment, one I am afraid I am very far from. My progress on the One Path has not been estimable in recent times. We must hope that your study will be more fortuitous. Then you will be able to advise me of the outcome, and the implications that worry your mystics so.’
That sounded like a conclusion but Elsewise sensed that Nata was not done and prepared for another switch.
‘It is interesting that they think AI are most likely. Is that why you left Trahern in the Box?’ asked Nata.
‘Yes,’ said Elsewise, impressed by both Nata’s insight and the way he brought the discussion back to Trahern. ‘AI developed incredibly fast and departed from our realm. It is probable that they left devices for future interaction. Schools of thought are divided as to the intent of these actions and whether they would be beneficial to humankind or not.’
‘Therefore, a successful candidate from our Box could be an AI product, with an unknown agenda,’ said Nata, adding casually, ‘so Trahern is now central to both lines of study. Have you found changes from this latest ordeal?’
‘No, and that is curious. The Box appears to function as the Mad Command intended. I find it strange that AI would contribute without superimposing a purpose of their own. I know of no other case which has shown them to be ultimately subservient. I have asked for med and psych reviews. Further investigation of this matter will be carried out by others who have specialised in AI. I will persevere with my own study.’
‘Ah, but before we return to the contemplation of life via the medium of the Ships, could you tell me the final lesson of the Box?’ asked Nata. ‘Recognition of one’s limits was the message I perceived to be most important in the lower levels during my test many years ago.’
‘Trahern says that the last step requires trust. I believe he really means faith,’ said Elsewise. ‘Trust can be built from predictable activity, repeatability. But there is certainly little of that in the upper levels of the Box. Faith requires no proofs. The final step is an affirmation of faith in the Guard. It is in keeping with the Mad Command’s reputed intent.’
‘Know your limits and keep the faith, die if you do not,’ said Nata.
Elsewise laughed. The Mad Command would have appreciated that succinct summary.
‘Come,’ said the small man, motioning to Elsewise to follow him out onto the sand. ‘Now that your humour is better we will try this staff. Remember, if you hit me, you will feel very bad.’
CHAPTER 15: BRIODI’S INTERVIEWS
Briodi’s day had not started well and i
t was getting rapidly worse. Before duty hours, she had gone to check on the scout. Quartermaine’s scout, back from the deep. Her responsibility and she did not know his name. Aesca could only offer ‘Sealed in records,’ her own frustration showing. Briodi had asked Quartermaine and received a raised palm in reply. How can I help them if I know nothing?
The scout’s condition was deteriorating. Med had stabilised his systems to the best of their ability but their prognosis was not good. His mental state was accelerating his decline. Briodi had not been able to penetrate his distress and ease his torment. He had to be fully tranqued to prevent injuring himself in his struggles. It was failure. In this state he could not help himself, let alone communicate a last wish.
Depressed, she had returned to the review room to find three caretakers inside, her notebooks scattered on the desk and the screens on. Before she could express her shock, Serin, their leader, demanded to know why they had been called in.
‘We have already submitted to your nonsense once this quarter. Why do you waste our time. We have important work awaiting us.’
Briodi tried to take control. ‘This appointment is for Donen only. You two please leave.’
Serin stepped forward. A faint charnel odour wafted up from his raggy black coverings. Despite her resolve, Briodi gave ground. A half step only as the bulky one, Crell, had moved behind her. Not being able to keep him in sight worried her more than Serin’s furious tirade.
‘I am his commander! His condition is known to me and has been accommodated. That he is craven does not affect his work in the Box. We have great commitments and he has his part to play. Do not think to interfere!’
Briodi pushed past him and around behind the desk putting them all in her view. Holding her comm up she said, ‘Leave now or I will call Security.’
The Return of the Grey Page 11