Fire Margins

by Lisanne Norman

  Governor Nesul had contacted him in advance, asking that he attend as General Raiban had requested the opportunity to address the council on the issue of the Valtegans. Normally Konis’ position was filled by one of his senior members of staff at AlRel and he would attend in person only when he had a report to make or his presence was necessary to the issue being discussed.

  The current debate concerned another plea from Tayangi, head of the Civil Protectorate, for more resources to be allocated to combating the pockets of organized crime that flourished in the major cities, Ranz in the highlands of the Dzahai mountains and the capital Shanagi itself being prime among them.

  Konis reached for his glass of water, glancing as unobtrusively as he could at his wrist comm in the process. It was nearing the end of the day’s business. If Nesul intended Raiban to speak, he’d better do something soon.

  Almost as he thought it, the governor interrupted the discussion.

  “I’ve asked General Raiban to attend the meeting today because she has some news that concerns us all. Hanaz,” he said to his aide, “would you ask the General to come in, please?”

  A few minutes later, Raiban entered, carrying a large, flat case and followed by a Human. As Konis sat up, he was aware of the sense of outrage, and expectation, from the assembled Guild and Clan Leaders. This was going to be heated and controversial, he realized—if he’d correctly interpreted the presence of the box and the Human.

  Raiban walked round the oval wooden table, stopping at the places left vacant for herself and her companion. Placing the case on the table, she looked over at the Governor.

  “This is completely out of order, a breach of security,” said Guild Master Mnoeshi, her ears twitching in anger. “Since when has our Assembly been open to members of other species?”

  “Dr. Michaels is here by my invitation,” said Nesul. “If General Raiban, head of Military Intelligence, doesn’t consider him a security risk, then neither should we.” He turned to look at Raiban. “General, please. When you’re ready?”

  Raiban nodded and as her companion sat, she leaned forward to open the case fully. As she pushed it into the center of the table, clearly visible in their nest of form-fitting padding, lay the skull and several large bones from the limbs of a Valtegan.

  “These remains were found at one of the ancient city sites,” she said, looking directly at where Master Esken sat, “before it was destroyed by members of Esken’s Guild. They’re the bones of a Valtegan who walked on Sholan soil over a millennium ago.”

  A stunned silence greeted her statement, then exclamations of surprise broke out from all directions as the Councillors furthest from the case rose to their feet in an effort to see it.

  “I had Dr. Michaels and a team of his chosen archaeologists,” she said the alien word carefully, “brought here, not only to date the bones, but because we need their skills if we’re going to find out what Valtegans were doing on Shola at or around the time of the Cataclysm. If they’ve been here once, they may come back. They’ve already unleashed a weapon of devastating proportions on Khyaal and Szurtha, a weapon about which we still know nothing.”

  Looking Esken squarely in the face, she continued. “I think it’s time you were accountable for this wanton destruction of our past. I want answers to some questions, and I want them now, Esken!”

  Esken’s face and ears remained impassive as he lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve done nothing that my predecessors haven’t done for hundreds of years, General Raiban. Naturally I’ll answer what questions I can, providing they don’t touch on Guild secrets.”

  “Guild secrets be damned, Esken.” Konis’ voice was a low growl of anger. “My son and bond-daughter nearly died on the Khalossa because your medics refused his physician guild-specific medical information! We’re entering a new era, not only on Shola, but out there,” he gestured toward the ceiling. “If we can’t learn to communicate freely with each other, irrespective of guilds, then I foresee the collapse of our people under the weight of traditions that will destroy them!”

  Governor Nesul nodded. “Well said, Konis. We’re in danger of remaining too planet-bound, my colleagues,” he said, talking over the angry exclamations from round the table.

  “We have to learn to see the whole picture. The Valtegans aren’t a distant threat out in space. We’ve lost two colonies to them, and now we’ve found evidence that they’ve lived on our home world. Esken, I want to know why explosives have to be detonated in the ruins before the mining and salvage teams can enter. I want to know why your Guild has been spreading a doctrine dismissing our past history as unimportant, and I want to know if you knew about these remains before now!”

  “I think you’re exaggerating the situation, Governor. The ruins have always been dealt with in this fashion. Commander Chuz, the explosives are controlled by your people and you knew what they were being used for. Check your records and you’ll see that I’ve only been continuing in the footsteps of my predecessors.” He paused, looking round the faces turned toward him. “As for spreading a doctrine against our past—that’s ridiculous, as I’m sure many of you will agree.”

  Konis watched as Esken looked expectantly from one to another of the people he would normally have expected to back him up. He might dislike him, but as a fellow telepath, he felt some sympathy for this public abandonment. Still, he’d only himself to blame. Coercion and threats were no way to win allies.

  Finally, Clan Leader Chekoi spoke up. “I have to agree with Master Esken,” he said. “I don’t see how you can accuse him of trying to suppress an interest in our past. What do the achievements of our ancient ancestors matter to us now?”

  “Tell me which God or Goddess you personally worship,” said Nesul, looking at the comp pad in front of him.

  “Excuse me?” Chekoi was obviously taken aback at the question.

  “Which deity does your clan look to as its protector?”

  “Nylam, God of the Hunt, but what’s that got to do with anything?”

  “There’s a temple to Nylam in Taykui forest, near your clan’s estate, isn’t there? Who runs it?” He looked up at Chekoi, stylus poised.

  The Clan Leader frowned. “The priest, of course!”

  “Uh huh. Nickoe, who does your clan look to?” He fixed his eyes on another of Esken’s supporters.

  “The Goddess of Shola, the Green Goddess. Why? What point are you trying to make, Nesul?” demanded the female Sholan as she watched him annotate his pad.

  As Nesul raised his head and looked slowly round his Council, Konis began to purr gently in amusement.

  “I expect each one of you has sent your own and the clan cubs to your local temple, haven’t you? As well as taking their turn in helping the lay-brothers maintain the building and the grounds, and assisting in the various rites and ceremonies, I’m sure they, and you in your day, have been taught by the priest in charge, haven’t they?” asked Nesul, carefully replacing his stylus beside his comp pad. “Master Esken, please tell us to which guild do all the priests belong?”

  “Mine, of course!” snapped the now irate telepath. “What’s your point, Nesul?”

  “Merely that priests spread doctrines, and all priests, bar those of Vartra, answer directly to you because they’re all telepaths.”

  Konis, sensing the telltale signs that Esken was about to really lose his temper, decided to intervene. “Governor, I’m sure that Esken was only following the orders of his predecessors,” he said, looking over to the beleaguered Guild Master. “You’re doing exactly what every Master of the Telepath Guild has done, right back to the days of the Cataclysm, but have you ever thought to ask yourself why?”

  “You all know why! The ruins are dangerously unstable, full of rooms where tons of rubble are held up by ancient rusting girders. The slightest movement could make them collapse on those within! Blasting them makes them safer for the miners!”

  “The blasting will stop as of now, Esken,” said Nesul, his voice taking on a hard
edge. “You will also instruct your priests to encourage an interest in our past history.”

  “If I may, Governor Nesul,” said Raiban. “I feel we need all the guilds to pool their records so a common database can be set up from which we can try to find out what our ancestors knew, if anything, about the Valtegans and their possible involvement in the Cataclysm.”

  “What makes you think they had anything to do with the Cataclysm?” asked Tayangi.

  “I’m afraid that’s classified at the moment,” said Raiban. “However, I can tell you that the traditional links between the Brotherhood, the Warriors, and surprisingly, the Telepath Guild appear to be closer than we ever suspected.”

  “Governor Nesul,” said Commander Chuz, speaking for the first time. “General Raiban’s request will have to be considered an order. I consider it a matter vital to planetary defense, possibly even of important to the Alliance as a whole, that all our guilds and clans make what historical records they have available to a team of researchers to be assisted by experts in the relevant fields from our Human allies. Dr. Michaels will be one of the experts who will assist our people.”

  “This is some mad scheme dreamed up by a colicky pessimist after a heavy meal!” growled Mnoeshi angrily. “Why should we open our guild records to anyone? They’re our business, no one else’s! What good will it do the Medical Guild to know how often we service the lighting in our streets, eh? Damned fool idea, if you ask me!”

  “If that’s all your records hold, then why the fuss about making them available?” asked Dr. Michaels quietly. “We don’t want your guild secrets, like how many grams of powdered cadduh shells make the purple dye for the telepaths. We need records that show major changes in areas like the political system, the population, health, wars … that type of detail will help us build a picture of your planet’s history.”

  “Seems to me you’ve already made your minds up that that’s what’s going to happen,” said Chekoi. “We’ll cooperate, but I’ll be damned if I like it.”

  “General Raiban, Governor Nesul,” said Khomi. “Speaking for my sub-Guild, I would like to be involved in this undertaking. It seems to me that the Department for Intellectual Development is the natural place to start recruiting your work force. I’m sure my members will be happy to work with Dr. Michaels and his people. After all, we’ll learn new skills.”

  “Your offer of help is accepted,” said Nesul. “A committee will have to be set up to implement this project. General Raiban, you’re in overall control, but I feel that as well as Councillor Khomi, Councillor Rhuha of the Environment and Guild Master Vyaku of Communications should also be involved. I suggest we schedule a meeting later this evening as the matter is urgent.”

  Raiban nodded. “Certainly, Governor,” she said, standing up and closing the case containing the remains.

  “Ah, before you leave, General,” said Esken smoothly, “I’d like a closer look at those Valtegan bones. I’d like to be able to identify them if they turn up again.”

  “Your people won’t get the opportunity to visit the ruins from now on,” said Commander Chuz. “They are now under military guard. No one will have access to them without permission. Archaeologists from Earth will be starting work on the most likely sites shortly. We need to find out as much as we can about these damned Valtegans.”

  Konus watched Esken’s expression harden and felt the faintest trace of his anger. Catching sight of his adversary looking at him, Esken quickly suppressed it and relaxed his facial muscles. “If that is your wish, then of course I’ll be happy to oblige you.”

  “Commander, I need a statement for the public comm nets,” said Vyaku. “If you don’t issue one, then the sight of armed forces personnel will create alarm.”

  “A statement has been prepared,” said Commander Chuz. “You’ll have it at the end of this Council session.”

  While Raiban was collecting the case and waiting for Dr. Michaels to accompany her, Governor Nesul called a break for c’shar. Konis took the opportunity to go over to Nesul, taking the now vacant chair beside him.

  “I hadn’t realized Raiban had got so far with her plans,” he said quietly.

  “Neither had I. We need Lijou in on this. Will he help do you think?”

  “I’m sure he will,” said Konis. “Kusac is convinced the Brotherhood holds a lot of the pieces to this puzzle. Did I tell you Carrie and Ghyan, the priest from the temple at Valsgarth, are working on the visions and dreams that telepaths and the Brothers have experienced?”

  “No, you haven’t. What do they expect to find?”

  “I’m not entirely sure, but it’s something Kaid’s been encouraging. Apparently he’s been taking notes for years and he left them for Carrie to use.”

  “Left them?” Nesul frowned. “What’s happened to Kaid?”

  “Nothing. He’s gone off looking for someone he used to know, that’s all,” said Konis, suddenly realizing that perhaps it would be better for Nesul not to know where Kaid was. “He seems to think the people who see the visions are actually seeing a replay of events from the past. If they are, this could be a vital part of the picture of our past, especially as the visions all involve the God, Vartra, and it’s known He was active during the years of the Cataclysm.”

  “How can they possibly be seeing a replay of past events, Konis?”

  Seeing the owner of the seat returning with his mug, Konis got hurriedly to his feet. “I’ll tell you later. What about Fyak? I thought we were going to be discussing that today.”

  “We are. It’s next on the agenda. Commander Chuz and the High Council are meeting to discuss it tonight as well. We’re going to be busy. I need you at both those meetings.”

  “I’ll be there,” said Konis, moving away as Councillor Chaidu returned to her seat.

  *

  Kusac stood at their suite’s inner doorway, watching the environmental force screens being installed in the lounge and the bedroom of their new home. He was aware of his father approaching—he’d been thoughtful enough to announce his presence mentally.

  Konis put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I see you persuaded Rayazou to decorate for you. She’s surpassed herself,” he said, looking up at the painted moonlit sky overhead. Around them, the bedroom walls had been transformed into a woodland grove where creatures of all sizes were partially concealed among lush vegetation, their eyes shining out from among the bushes even in the daylight that filled the room.

  “That’s why I’ve been watching them,” Kusac replied quietly. “I don’t want the walls damaged. Rayazou actually painted most of this suite and the nursery herself as a gift for us. The murals for the whole house are her designs, of course, but her senior apprentices have been working on them.” He turned round to face his father.

  “It’s a surprise for Carrie. Luckily she hasn’t wanted to come down to the estate since the building work began. Too much dust and noise, mentally as well as audibly, she says.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be delighted with the result. Your mother’s going to be wanting our rooms redecorated as soon as she sees these.” His tone was rueful.

  With a grin, Kusac gestured to the hallway. “They’re about finished now. Shall we go over to the lab? It’s the only place where we can get away from the noise and the dust and sit down. Jack’s there, and possibly Garras. Unless what you have to say is private?” He looked quizzically at his father, flicking an ear in deference to him.

  “No, it’s not private,” said Konis, following him along the balcony to the corridor leading downstairs. “I just wanted to tell you what happened at the council meeting last night. You’d turned in before I got home.” He had to raise his voice above the sound of hammering and sawing.

  “Loud, isn’t it? In a couple of days it’ll be finished. There’s only the furnishings to be put in.”

  Kusac took his father’s arm and hurried him down to the ground level, the noise decreasing as they walked along the colonnades. “We spent the afternoon out at the ruin
s again. All that fresh air made us tired.”

  “Watch she doesn’t overdo things, Kusac,” his father warned as they walked across the grassy courtyard to the wide arched gateway that led out into the estate gardens. “The first quarter is the most vulnerable time for females, and we still don’t know for sure that it’ll be a twenty-four week pregnancy.”

  “We’ll soon find out,” said Kusac. “Vanna says her pregnancy is following the normal Sholan development. She’s only got four weeks to go now.”

  The wide gravel front to the house had been laid and the grassed areas cut. It was beginning to feel more like a home than a building unused for several generations. Kusac turned back to look at it. Despite the rather gray sky, set with the forest behind it as it was, the white exterior seemed almost luminous. A small army of clansfolk were finishing off behind the builders. Already the windows at the front of the house were hung with the brightly colored gossamer-fine drapes that Carrie loved.

  “How could she fail to like it?” asked Konis as Kusac turned back to him and they began to walk down the pathway to the newly rebuilt estate village.

  “Because she also has an unpredictable Human side.”

  “Isn’t that part of what you love in her?” Konis raised a questioning eye ridge.

  “Yes, but it also drives me mad at times,” Kusac admitted, albeit with a grin. “Carrie was with Ghyan at our Shrine yesterday morning. They’ve been collating the data on the dreams and visions experienced by many of the past new Leska pairs at the Guild Hall, and, of course, ourselves. Did you know that Lijou has been giving Ghyan information on the Brotherhood’s dreams too? I suppose with hindsight it makes sense since Ghyan is the principal priest of Vartra, outside of Lijou himself. We’ve probably got the most comprehensive database on Shola regarding these phenomena—if you don’t count the mountain folk.”

  He waited for his father’s reaction and wasn’t disappointed.

  “What did you say?” Konis demanded, stopping dead in his tracks.