‘The traffic through the Passages? Could you explain?’ The Scholar’s query broke the spell of her words, freed the men from the dark considerations she had placed before them. Chairs squeaked and boots scraped.
‘Nothing across from the Seventh Galaxy and Arm traffic has been light, not much more than our recalled craft for a few weeks,’ said Johnson. ‘We are behind on projected deliveries. Nothing that can’t be managed though.’ His brow furrowed over blank eyes. ‘Do you see something in it?’ Alarm registered on his kind face. ‘Could it be the renegades?’
‘Twelve couldn’t block a Passage. Would take a lot more than that. Hell of a lot more,’ said Thomas.
They looked to Elsewise but head in hands he said no more.
He suffers, noted Celene. Nata, you did him no favour when you set him on this path. He can’t change allegiances as easily as the rest of us. If what he surmises, what I fear, is true, then there is little hope for either of us. ‘Scholar Elsewise tires,’ she stated. ‘Send the Gold and move the conversation on.’
For some reason that brought a smile to Johnson’s face. ‘Alizane, you have your orders. Collect what data you can and ready your craft for lift,’ said the commander.
‘Make sure you put your armament back in,’ growled Thomas. ‘You’re not going to a dance this time.’
The Gold rose smiling, but hesitated at the Scholar’s side.
‘I will accompany him to Med,’ said Celene. ‘On your way.’ She turned to Johnson and arched an eyebrow in a command to continue.
Chalkley coughed and lifted his stump onto the edge of the table.
A reminder of loss suffered, like the Commander’s sight, realised Celene. ‘We are ready to continue now, Commander. As the Captain’s missing appendage so kindly informs me.’
*
The last sentence had no meaning to Elsewise. Something humorous, he suspected. Commander Johnson appeared to share his confusion but did not let it trouble him, shrugging it away. He grows used to his lack of sight. I doubt that I will cope with diminished faculties as well as he.
‘Scholar Elsewise. I wanted to ask you about the Rim,’ said Johnson.
Elsewise couldn’t help but smile. From the Arm to the Rim. This is how Nata would have conducted the conversation. No doubt at a latter stage we will touch on the Ships and the fate of Base but first we must jump around the universe. The subject offered him some relief, however. It was a topic that he could discuss freely.
‘Scholar, the Rim hurt us badly,’ said Johnson. ‘Although it may be hard to admit, most of it is our own fault. We didn’t know what was happening there. We can’t let that happen again. I know that there are more pressing concerns elsewhere but I can’t help feeling that we have turned our back on it. The Rim will always be a trial but I don’t want us to have to do it the hard way, not again, not ever.’
‘Commander Trahern and I observed the collisions that blocked the access to the Passage used by the enemy,’ said Elsewise. ‘The new configuration should be relatively stable. However, the Rim is a dynamic system and our observations were limited, in both time and space. To address your concern I would recommend continuous monitoring.’ He had sent a similar, if broader, recommendation to the Inner Belt supported by his observations on his return from the Rim. ‘The sensors seized from the enemy would be adequate. Redeployed with feed to a relay, the study could be executed from here.’
‘Do we have them, Thomas?’ asked Johnson.
‘Yah. The Rangers brought them in. But I can’t say what condition they are in. I haven’t looked and wouldn’t know if I did anyway. Have to hand them on. The crews in the hangars could probably check them out. Can’t be too different from those in our craft. If they can’t handle it, we’re stuffed. No brains left. I warned the old man.’
‘Not to worry Thomas. We’ll find someone,’ said Johnson.
‘What about Lammas? You done with him yet?’ Thomas challenged Celene. ‘He’s been in there a long time.’
Strangely, the Specialist glanced to Elsewise before answering. Lammas, the Blue, Ardent affected, the first to attack the Specialist, pondered Elsewise. What special significance does he hold to her, and by inference, to me? There could only be one explanation.
‘No, I am not done with him. His rehabilitation is not complete,’ answered the Specialist.
‘He is in Med, isn’t he?’ asked Johnson. He didn’t wait for a reply, continuing sadly, ‘I had hoped that it might have been him in the scoutship. Going to join the Group. Recovered enough for that. He is a good pilot and would be welcomed. And he knew of the modified craft. Not so lucky, heh?’
‘Who took it then?’ asked Chalkley.
‘We don’t know. Everyone is accounted for,’ said Johnson. ‘Can’t see it being any use to the Houses. If they wanted that technology they could have easily acquired it elsewhere.’ He paused then drew himself up to continue. ‘There is only one party that it could advantage. I’ve been meaning to ask you, Scholar, if you thought that the Ships could have something to do with it?’
Elsewise searched for the right answer. Just as the Rim had taken the Guard unawares so had this craft taken him. He had failed to see its potential although all the components lay displayed before him. Someone else, something else, had. Eons ago. That was his hypothesis and it was being tested out beyond the Passages, maybe at this minute. He should be there. ‘The beings of the Ships have never made contact. They could have no direct agency here.’
‘Look at the Gold,’ said Thomas. ‘He has only flown with them and he loves them.’
‘All of the experienced cadremen respect the Ships. It is not difficult when they embody so much of what we consider honourable in ourselves,’ said Celene.
‘The edge of the universe is a good place for contemplation. Humility comes easier here.’ His friend’s words. He wished Nata was here to appreciate this. Three decades of study to reach the same understanding casually proffered in argument by an almost disinterested individual. ‘The Ships embody so much of ourselves.’ How could one not be humbled? What a wonderful place and a remarkable people. There, I have stated it. How can one not find pleasure in so contradictory a universe? Nata, you must explain this to me.
He felt a touch on his arm and focused his eyes in time to see Celene’s small hand return to her lap. He looked up into the regard of the others. Even Johnson’s blind eyes were on him.
‘You were away from us for a few minutes there, Scholar,’ said Thomas.
‘I am sorry. My thoughts sometimes …’ He owed these people his honesty. ‘I believe that there is a connection between the modified scoutship and the Ships, a connection developed over thousands of years, involving the Guard, AI and life itself.’ He knew that he wasn’t explaining this very well, this grand conjecture of his.
‘Not to worry, Scholar,’ said Thomas. ‘The Ships are Quartermaine’s problem now, to be solved one way or the other out by the Passages.’ The old man turned to Johnson. ‘Same goes for you, Commander.’
‘Good advice, Thomas,’ agreed Johnson. ‘We just have to keep about the business of Base and prepare for their return. I do hope that some return. We need the cadres.’
‘Well, we haven’t seen PlanCon go by yet so it can’t be going too bad,’ said Chalkley.
‘As it appears that the discussion of serious matters is complete, I will take the Scholar back to Med,’ said Celene, rising.
Elsewise let himself be ushered out, relieved that he had not been required to expound on his theory. It would have sounded foolish to these men and women grounded in the immediacy of the present, the ‘here and now’ as the Specialist was wont to say.
*
‘That went well,’ offered Thomas.
‘Very well,’ confirmed Chalkley.
Johnson was pleasantly surprised. He knew that he was no real commander, not the like of Quartermaine.
‘Did you hear her order us about?’ said Thomas.
‘And she made a joke about my leg
,’ added Chalkley happily.
‘What?’ Johnson asked, confused.
‘Yah, for sure, progress, a good thing too.’ said Thomas.
‘Progress?’ asked Johnson, trying to understand them.
‘How can you doubt?’ said Thomas back. ‘She touched you on the shoulder and the Scholar on the Arm.’
‘She hasn’t let anyone touch her since she left Med,’ explained Chalkley. ‘And as far as the other way around, well, not since Spence, I think.’
Johnson heard the scrape of chairs as the two men rose.
‘I best go to the hangars, get the work going on the Gold’s craft before he arrives,’ said Thomas. ‘Check it out in case it has been neglected.’
‘You mean in case someone has crapped in the cockpit,’ said Chalkley.
‘That too,’ admitted Thomas.
‘Will you be long?’ asked Chalkley.
Must have been a shake of the head, thought Johnson for Chalkley continued.
‘I’ll collect my sergeants and meet you at the armoury. Better get this training started. Advanced weapons, suitwork … in orbit?’
‘Yah, sounds like ‘blast and board’ to me too,’ said Thomas. ‘Why do you think she wants us to hone up on that? If the Ships get past Quartermaine, the satellites will hold them off. If they have the numbers to swamp them then there isn’t much the rest of us could do. Can’t board a Ship anyway.’
‘Ours not to reason why,’ quoted Chalkley.
And then they were gone. Probably waved or nodded a farewell, thought Johnson. Caught up in their excitement. He didn’t mind. His blindness was his problem, no one else’s. Now to find my way back to command, maybe stop at Supply on the way. Not much that he could offer much at either place other than a few words of encouragement but what else was a commander to do?
‘Some food would be good,’ said a voice from the door.
*
‘You have no appetite?’ asked Celene. They were passing one of the messes and it would be easy to stop.
The tall scholar shook his head.
‘We both know what is wrong with you and that there is no cure in Med,’ said Celene. ‘Why do you return there?’
‘The doctor’s request.’
‘So it is her command you follow now?’
‘No. It is simply easier to comply.’
This lack of will troubled her more than his physical condition. ‘Speaking of simple things, I have some considerations for you.’
He tilted his head forward and to the side in order to gaze at her as they walked. Even wearied, his steps were so long that she had to hurry to stay with him. Eyebrow raised, he studied her.
Of course you know what I am doing. That is immaterial. ‘There is little difference between you being here on Base or out at the Passages as far as your study of the Ships is concerned. Only a small matter of time. Everything that our craft can record will be sent back. That is all that would be available to you even if you were up there. Your function as observer is met adequately, and more safely, by receiving the data here. And that is the only role you would be allowed. Battle command will go to Trahern. Do not delude yourself that he would honour a “request” once battle was set.’
‘I can not invoke that authority anymore,’ said Elsewise.
‘There you do delude yourself. You serve the Inner Belt and always will.’
Elsewise turned away from her and strode forward. She caught his staff and pulled him to a stop.
‘The Inner Belt,’ she stated. ‘The entity that has evolved over thousands of years. Not the current political or bureaucratic elite. You serve humanity. How could your efforts here not be in their interest?’
‘That is a rationalisation,’ said Elsewise.
‘Of course it is. That is all that I deal in. That is how human beings function.’ She leaned in close, tilting her head back to find and fix his eyes. ‘And Elsewise, regardless of your abilities and training, you are human. Acknowledge that and preserve yourself.’ She didn’t quite have him, she could see that in his eyes. His conditioning was too strong. She had only one argument left. ‘Would Nata have placed you on a path that leads to ruin and waste? Of something so precious in his cosmology as a life. The life of a friend.’
Celene released the staff and walked on. Faith begins where logic ends. The rest was up to Elsewise.
CHAPTER 109: IN THE GAP, DOWN TO THE PASSAGES
The satellites around Base Planet, realised Quartermaine. Flying in and around them. That’s what they look like, so familiar a sight. Now he knew what they felt like also. They tug at me as I pass, like someone catching your shoulder, or like a word that makes you turn. My old friends. And with that he knew who it was in the scoutship sending the images and sensor data. Another old friend. I thought you were gone.
More images came, stars, strange constellations, great gas clouds; all accompanied by the touch of the universe. Beautiful. He understood the yearning then, to fly and feel it like this, always. And you have it, somehow the Weave preserved your mind. Quartermaine tried to send images of his own. Leave. Fly the universe. I release you from our bond. Our fate is not yours.
‘Not your fate, not ours, not theirs.’ The message came in images and in pulsed code. ‘Wait while I try.’
A portion of the display screen lit up with a view of Trahern. Good, La Mar is linking us. I need to explain. Trahern will have this but might not understand it. He saw Colda come forward with an arm raised. Before he could mouth a warning, Gati was there and the PlanCon Commander fell back. La Mar caught him but the set of her shoulders drove the flicker of relief away. She means to move also. Trust us, La Mar. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘I know who it is.’
An image of the scoutship in the hangar at Base came to him. Then another of the intricate weave of wires and crystals over the empty pilot’s chair. Alive with lights. From Trahern. Yes! That is who it is.
‘Wait,’ he heard Trahern order.
‘Wait it is, but a few words wouldn’t go astray,’ said La Mar finally.
Yes, La Mar. He saw the need but couldn’t meet it yet. Images and feelings swamped him. Coasting through the deep, dark with only the barest pull from some distant system to deflect the emptiness. Light touching like a sprinkling of rain on dry skin, becoming a bath as a galaxy was entered, searing as he swept around a young star. Too close, Quartermaine’s mind said. Too much radiation for one of us. But none of the last was in the message, only the joy of the experience. The tumbling tumult of a dense system was like an amusement ride, all thrills and reaction. Finally the images settled, to the here and now, to two arrays of ships, one vast, the other small, and tiniest of all a single craft in between. The images closed on the craft, went inside and showed all the detail. Like open hands, palm up. He is asking them to talk. The scout stopped sending and Quartermaine’s consciousness dropped back to the Weave, the hundred craft connected to his mind.
‘Well, we are waiting,’ came La Mar’s voice over the comm.
‘That’s my scout,’ said Quartermaine. ‘He came to go between, to parley. He believes that the beings of the Ships will talk to him.’ Yes, that was it, only a feeling yet as he said it he knew it was true. ‘Because he is different now.’ But there must be more, something that he hasn’t been able to pass to me. Their intent and ours are known, same as before at Triamo. No amount of talk will change that.
Several Ships swung out from the mass and headed for the scout.
‘Hold,’ ordered Trahern.
The scout hung there and let them come. On his own as ever he has been. He is my man. I must do something.
A hand landed on his shoulder, gave a squeeze and stayed there. Tollen.
The Ships swung around the scoutship.
At least I can explain, tell the rest about him. They should know, however this goes. ‘He is my scout. For more than ten years he has flown for me, through the Gap, beyond the Arm, out into the deep. Wherever I needed him to go, to search the lonely reaches for threats to the Pa
ssages. To give us warning. Years at a time.’ He stopped and swallowed. It was hard to talk from the chair with the Weave band on and the crystals in. ‘This last time he came back ruined, too much radiation, too many fields … maybe too much loneliness. We put him in Weave gear, so he could feel the sky, the stars, what he knew. To ease his pain while he died. It was all that we could do for him.’ The hurt of Briodi’s death caught him again as he remembered. Ahh, poor girl. He swallowed then started again. ‘When you Weave, something of you goes out into the Weave.’ He didn’t know how to explain it, only Trahern would know. ‘Sometimes you leave a bit. Somehow my scout left it all. That’s him now, in that craft, not his body, but everything else, alive in the Weave and the wires.’
More Ships were out, swarming around the scout. I can’t leave him to them, not alone. ‘Tollen, tap me out,’ he ordered. He had to go in. Trahern would lose this second Weave but it wouldn’t matter. Not against the numbers they faced.
‘Hold your Weave, Commander, and stay in position,’ said Trahern. ‘That is a defensive pattern they are flying. Between him and us. I don’t know what they are up to, but I don’t think that they would let you approach. So far they haven’t harmed him, only scans. Let this play out, if only for the Scholar’s sake.’
Elsewise. He should be here. The man had gone to the Rim, flown through the thick of it with Trahern. It wasn’t fear that kept him from this. Maybe illness. He had appeared to be suffering, not just from the death of his friend, physically also. Maybe something from the Rim. Quartermaine had asked Aesca to check. Smart as he was, the tall fellow probably wouldn’t think of it himself. Aesca would look after him though, and others would help. Well, we will send a record of this. It will get back even if we don’t.
The Return of the Grey Page 56