“What do you mean?” the Anghard demanded.
“You march together, but you are not united. Anghard, Lampetia, Cethlan, Mogrey—each of you is loyal to his own. Each would elevate his race and bury the rest. It’s the force that drives life here on Pann. But I am not from here. I have no reason to favour one over another.”
Druwyn leaned over them. “The human speaks truth. He should represent us.”
The Anghard spokesperson planted his pike and stared up at the Lampetia. The other Anghard formed up behind him. “You are beneath us. You are beneath the Cethlan. Few of you remain. Your size may be impressive, but your voice is small.”
The Mogrey scuttled forward. “We will not be ignored!”
The Cethlan held a long silver tube in one of its tentacles.
Quinn raised his arms. “Stop! Don’t you see? This is exactly what your enemies want. They want you to tear each other to pieces and do their job for them.” All eyes turned towards him. “I’m the only one who can speak for you all.”
The Mogrey stared at him with dead eyes. It was like being addressed by a collection of puppets. “You will tell the Kimn to free us?”
Quinn shook his head. “I can’t make any promises, but I will argue your case. I’m not their enemy. They’re more likely to listen to me. In any case, it’s got to be better than fighting among yourselves.”
The Anghard shouldered his pike. “The upper races may slaughter us, but we will not hand them the victory.”
The Mogrey and the Cethlan drew back.
“Come,” Druwyn said. “I will accompany you to the transport ring.”
He moved off towards the centre of the hall. Quinn trailed in his wake, and the horde parted in silence. He felt the weight of hundreds of eyes.
His rhetoric had been effective, but he had not been entirely honest. He did favour one race—humanity. Its future depended on his securing a ship, finding Ximun and stopping him. Weighed against that imperative, this entire horde of misbegotten creatures was expendable.
“The Anghard was right about one thing,” he heard Druwyn say. “My people are on the brink of annihilation. Condemned to the dark, our numbers have dwindled, and our power reserves are all but gone. In a few generations, we will be no more. This is our last chance for survival.”
The horde backed away, revealing a glowing ring. The tall creature stared down at Quinn. “Good fortune, human. Our hopes go with you.”
Quinn swallowed. “Thanks. I won’t let you down.”
Feeling as dirty as a politician, he stepped into the ring of white fire.
~
Quinn stepped out of the fiery ring and emerged into utter darkness. Muscles in his neck and shoulders grew tense. Were the Kimn trying to provide a comfortable environment for a creature from Pann’s aphotic lower levels? More likely, it was a tactic designed to cause fear and disorientation. He stilled his breathing and waited.
A semicircle of lights snapped on. Six hooded figures stood in pools of illumination. A spotlight from above picked him out.
“Human Quinn.” The parched voice echoed, so that Quinn couldn’t tell which of the six had spoken. The tone was matter-of-fact, as if the speaker were expecting him. There goes the element of surprise. “We did not expect you would survive your flight to the lower levels, much less deliver yourself for judgement. You have saved us the trouble of hunting you down.”
He had a single card to play. There didn’t seem any point holding it in reserve. “I wish to speak with Syn-moon.”
A thin voice broke in. “Syn-moon is coordinating our forces as they subdue what’s left of the invasion force. She warned us of an imminent attack and conceived the plan to thwart it. She is a heroine to the Kimn.”
“My son knows her.”
“Indeed,” the thin voice said. “He is part of her cushatra—her family grouping.”
Conor had said much the same thing. Quinn had no more idea what it meant now than then, but it might be something he could exploit. “I’m his father. That makes me part of the same… family.”
“That may be so, but it doesn’t mitigate the charges against him. Or you,” the parched voice returned.
“Why? What am I supposed to have done?”
“First, you loosed the dolin within the enclave. Then, you led an invasion from the lower levels.”
Quinn shook his head. “Wrong on both counts. Anyway, you have no proof.”
“We have all the proof we need. The dolin was keyed to preserve your son at all costs. Who, other than a father, would do that?”
“That doesn’t prove it was me.”
“Presumptive guilt,” the parched voice said. “No other person fits the criteria.”
“There must be a way to prove my innocence.”
“Certainly,” a third, steely voice said. “Bring us the construct and allow us to extract its core memory. That will show the extent of your involvement.”
He had deliberately left the dolin ten levels down, where no one from the upper level would venture to retrieve it. It was a decision he was beginning to regret. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”
“Then your guilt is established.”
Quinn reminded himself he was dealing with an alien justice system. His ideas about rightness and fairness were worthless currency here. Maybe he could cast doubt on the second charge. “You claim I led the invasion from the lower levels. How do you come up with that?”
“You are here,” Thin Voice said.
Quinn huffed. “Is that the best you can do?”
A rectangle of light appeared over the six hooded Kimn. Quinn saw an image of himself surrounded by the lower races. They gave ground as the imposing figure of the Lampetia conducted him to the circle of light.
Quinn felt as if he were drowning. “They forced me to go along with them.”
“Our surveillance shows you were a willing participant,” Parched Voice said. “You even appear to exercise a measure of influence and authority.”
“Ask them. Go ahead. Ask if I’m their leader. Ask if I went along willingly.”
“Why should we believe their answer?”
“This is crazy,” Quinn said. “What possible reason could I have for leading an attack on your enclave?”
“What better way to gain safe passage through the lower levels than to serve the interests of the lower-level races?”
Quinn swallowed. The worst of it was that she was right, in a sense. Ximun’s Conor re-animate had conspired with the Medyr to decimate the Kimn with the biotoxin and then incited the lower-level uprising. Unfortunately, that reanimate was now dead. Once again, the evidence proving Quinn’s innocence was irretrievable. He took a deep breath. “Look, I came to meet with you because I need your help. And you need mine.”
“We need nothing from you,” Steely Voice insisted.
“Are you sure? How about what’s happening in the Consensus right now?”
“The Agantzane are gone,” Thin Voice said.
“What of their allies?”
“The Shana system is destroyed. An unknown entity has been systematically attacking Agantzane technology. Virtually all of their allied ships and facilities have gone dark.”
“Do you know why?” Quinn asked.
“It has no bearing on the situation here,” Steely Voice broke in. “We will defend ourselves against anyone who threatens our existence.”
“You’re wrong. The Agantzane are about to return with a vengeance. When they do, no race will be safe.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“I’ve spoken with them.”
“That is impossible,” Steely Voice said. “Agantzane do not permit direct contact with anyone.”
“I found the location of their home world.”
“And where is that?”
“Right here on Pann.”
The hooded figures murmured to one another. “Preposterous!” Thin Voice exclaimed.
Quinn raised his voice over the hubbub. “T
ell me, what’s the history of this world?”
“Pann is a rising metropolis,” Parched Voice replied. “Civilisations have come and gone almost as far back as the founding of the Consensus.”
“Yes, but who kicked off the process? Whose idea was it?”
“That knowledge is lost to history.”
Quinn began to pace. “Odd, don’t you think? Almost as odd as the law that makes possession of any artefact dating from that period a capital crime. You’d almost think they had something to hide.”
“What are you getting at?” Parched Voice demanded.
Quinn halted in midstride and fixed the hooded Kimn with a stare. “I’ve been to ground level. I’ve seen what’s left of the great Agantzane civilisation. They were builders, architects, artisans, and musicians, but their greatest achievement was what they held to be a perfect system of justice. They brought the best and the brightest from all over the Consensus and schooled them in its operation.”
“So what happened?”
Quinn laughed without mirth. “A childhood disease wiped them out. Those who remained of the other races feared that once they revealed what had happened, the Consensus would descend into chaos. So they hatched an elaborate deception. Pann’s rising metropolis was their way of burying the truth of the Agantzane’s origins. In turn, they would become the new Agantzane—a group made up of many different races, operating from the shadows, sworn to uphold Agantzane philosophy, including the principle of one plus one equals two.
“Yet, not everyone in the Consensus was happy with Agantzane justice. An underground movement arose—The Mercy Faction. Its power and influence grew steadily.
“The new Agantzane schemed to eliminate it by using humans to provoke a war with the Shades, but as their plan progressed, a split grew in their ranks. A minority came to see humanity as the greater threat. So they released the Damise, the last of the Founder Races, from Shanata captivity and formed a new alliance with them, eliminating any Agantzane dissenters.”
Quinn had since discovered that a second Founder Race, the Elinare, still survived in the neighbour universe, but it seemed best to keep that quiet for now.
“You claim the Agantzane will soon reclaim their place at the head of the Consensus,” Parched Voice said. “Agantzane enforce the protections of Consensus law. Their return is no threat to us. We would welcome it. As for what may have happened in the distant past, it is of no concern.”
Quinn shook his head. “You don’t understand. The Agantzane you knew were content to let you run your own affairs so long as you operated within their justice system. These Agantzane are different. Their new allies, the Damise, destroyed billions in the Shana system in an act of vengeance against those who had held them in captivity. Now, they’re using an Artificial Intelligence to wipe out all remaining opposition. With the knowledge of the Founder Races at their disposal, the new Agantzane will seize absolute power. By the time they’re through, you’ll be nothing more than slaves.”
Low voices rippled. Finally, Steely Voice spoke. “You spin a remarkable tale, but you have no proof.”
“The human is trying to divert attention from his misdeeds and those of his son,” Thin Voice said.
“It is decided,” Parched Voice declared. “For violating Pann’s most ancient edict, the lower-level races will sacrifice one in five of their invasion force.”
“What?”
“You will deliver our terms. They will separate as instructed. The survivors may then withdraw in peace to the lower levels. If they comply, they will not be harmed.”
“You don’t have to do that. They’ll go voluntarily. You don’t have to kill anyone.”
“The beast must taste its wounds,” Parched Voice said. “If we don’t exact penance, they’ll be back. We must convince them never to return. You will take your place with the sacrifices. In time, your son will join you, and you will both suffer the penalty for your crimes.”
Steely’s voice rang in the chamber. “Your lower-level friends have already begun to quarrel. Left alone, they will expire one other. If you care about them, you will persuade them to accept our terms.”
“You will persuade them,” Thin Voice echoed.
The bright circle reappeared on the floor. Quinn hesitated. The Sisterhood was not going to budge. If he stayed and continued the debate, the lower races would annihilate themselves. But how would he explain the Kimn’s monstrous bargain? They might very well kill the messenger. Was that the Kimn’s purpose all along? He was left with an armful of uncertainties, but no alternatives.
Like someone stepping off a cliff, he entered the circle.
~
As Quinn stepped from the circle, a crowd of lower-race creatures surged towards him. Before he could react, he felt himself lifted from the floor. The hall rotated, and he came face-to-face with Druwyn.
The tall creature gazed at him with sad, sunken eyes. “The others said you were gone for good, but I knew you would not abandon us. You spoke with the Sisterhood?”
“Yes,” Quinn replied.
“What did they say?” The Lampetia held him aloft by the waist. The creature’s grip was light, yet firm. With scarcely more effort, he could rip Quinn in two or hurl him to the ground.
“It’s… complicated. Look, I’m exhausted. I need to rest a little. Then I’ll explain it to everyone, all right?”
Druwyn’s immense eyebrows drew together like hawsers. Quinn held his breath. Finally, the creature nodded once. “There’s someone you should see first.” He set Quinn on the ground and began to move through the surrounding horde.
A squad of Anghard barred their path. One stepped forward. “The human has returned. Give him to us.”
The Lampetia stared down at them. “He must rest first.”
“He will tell us our fate. If we don’t like what we hear, we’ll rip out his tongue.”
“Is that how you treat someone who risked his life for us?”
The Anghard’s face contorted. “The sun-born piss on us from above. Why would you side with one of them?”
“This human is not from our world,” the Lampetia replied. “He has not rained his filth upon us, nor has he robbed us of sunlight.”
“Lampetia are fools,” the Anghard spat. “We should have left you to rot in the darkness. Hand the human over, now!” The squad formed up behind their leader and levelled their pikes. Quinn cringed, helpless in the tall creature’s shadow.
The Lampetia threw back his great head and let forth an ear-splitting ululation. Quinn clapped his palms over his ears. The Anghard stumbled backwards as if blown by a sudden tempest. The great hall rang as Lampetia throughout the horde took up the cry.
Gradually, the sound faded. Quinn lowered his hands and turned slowly. Four more Lampetia lumbered towards them like walking trees. Cethlan and Mogrey scurried for cover as the four took up position behind Druwyn. Their armour creaked, and their huge hands flexed.
The lead Anghard’s face twitched in anger or frustration or both. “We will return. Until then, the human will be your responsibility.” The Anghard squad melted away into the horde.
The four Lampetia stood like bastions as Druwyn started forward. Quinn trotted to catch up. The gathering parted like a bow wave, and they moved through.
“Thanks,” Quinn managed to get out. “I appreciate it.”
“It isn’t over. The Anghard have lost face, and they will not forget it. They will expire you if they can, if only to humiliate us. But I have faith in you, human. You will not let us down, especially now since your friends have come.”
Quinn had no time to speculate on the meaning of Druwyn’s last comment as they approached the corner of the hall. The multitude drew back to reveal three figures.
Conor, Zothan, and Vil-gar.
~
Quinn fought to keep his voice even. “I need a word with my friends in private, if that’s all right.”
The Lampetia nodded. “Very well, but be brief. The Anghard will not hold off
for long.” He turned and herded the other creatures back.
Quinn spoke under his breath. “What are you doing here?”
“I returned too late to prevent you being captured by the lower races,” Zothan said. “I came to extract you.”
“And you brought my son along?”
Zothan bent his axe-like head.
“It’s not his fault,” Conor piped. “I made him. Besides, it’s a war zone out there. I wasn’t going to be left on my own.”
Quinn glared at them both before indicating Vil-gar with a flick of his head. “What about him?”
“I am not really here,” Vil-gar chirped, showing no irritation at Quinn’s referring to him in the third person. “You are addressing my interface.” Vil-gar’s image pulsed. Above his head, Quinn spotted a tiny floating sphere. “The device is similar to the one I used to track you across my level, only this one has an inbuilt projector so that I can share with you the benefit of my immense intellect.”
Quinn stared at the sphere. His fingers twitched as he wished for a fly swatter. “We have to get out of here, right now.”
“The Anghard told us you were brokering a peace with the Kimn Sisterhood,” Zothan said. “Were you successful?”
Quinn pressed his lips together. “In a manner of speaking.”
“What does that mean?” Conor asked.
“They’ll allow the horde to return to the lower levels. But one in five will be executed.”
The others lapsed into silence. Finally, Zothan spoke. “You have not told the lower races of this?”
“Not yet, no.”
“They are unlikely to receive the news well.”
“No kidding!”
“What are we going to do, Dad?”
Quinn frowned. “I’ll create some kind of distraction while Zothan uses a four-space conduit to get you away from here. Then he can come back for me.”
“I am sorry, Quinn,” Zothan said. “But I cannot do that.”
“What? Why not?
“The Esrach is ringed by a one-way disruption net, similar to the one you encountered on Nemazi during shath-zokari—the ordeal of the cursed. It prevents escape by transference.”
The Arc of the Universe Page 6