Soarer's Choice

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Dainyl managed to nod and avoid a frown. Cliffs usually didn’t collapse in fall or winter, but in spring. “Did High Alector Ruvryn say anything?”

  “His assistant said that after the problem in South Pass they didn’t want any problems in the north.”

  South Pass. Dainyl had to struggle for a moment before he recalled that Alcyna never had gotten a clear answer as to why the repairs on the South Pass bridge were taking so long. But with what Adya had just told him, it was obvious that Brekylt would be able to deny any easy land access to the east in a matter of days. “What did the Highest say?”

  “Nothing that I recall, sir.”

  Adya was telling the truth, and that disturbed Dainyl. Was Zelyert thinking about backing Brekylt—and Samist?

  Both Dainyl and Adya looked up as a deep voice inquired, “Is the marshal still here?”

  “Thank you.” Dainyl smiled at the assistant and stepped out into the corridor. “Yes, sir. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Zelyert gestured for Dainyl to join him. “Close the door.”

  Dainyl followed Zelyert into the private study and eased the door shut behind him.

  The High Alector seated himself. “What did you do in Soupat, Marshal?” Zelyert’s deep voice was deceptively mild.

  Even before he finished seating himself, Dainyl could sense an anger verging on rage behind the even words. “What I was able to do, Highest.” The honorific might mollify Zelyert, although Dainyl had the feeling that little would. He extended the report he had labored over the afternoon and night before. “This provides all the background and details. In effect, we brought the complex down around the rebel refugees and destroyed their weaponry before it destroyed Acorus. We also destroyed all of them.”

  Zelyert took the report and laid it on the table without looking at it. “It would have been a great deal more beneficial to all of us had you not taken so long. A great deal more beneficial to all of Acorus.”

  Dainyl had to wonder what it was about alectors such as Shastylt and Zelyert. Did the fear of losing power or prestige drive them all to the point of total unreasonableness? “We arrived on Septi night and began our attacks on Octdi morning. We lost two pteridons almost immediately. They possessed portable light-rifles that often can destroy a pteridon, and a lightcannon from Ifryn that instantly obliterated anything in its path or range. Despite that, we managed to destroy their weapons, and most of them with the loss of only six pteridons.”

  “Only six? You lost almost a third of a company against these…refugees?”

  “They weren’t refugees, sir. They were trained Myrmidons with weapons superior to ours. The heavy lightcannon was actually linked to the Table itself. You find another Myrmidon who actually has delivered you those kinds of results, and I’ll be pleased to hand over command.” Before Zelyert could speak again, Dainyl added, “The Archon is either sending alectors like that against us or allowing them access, in order to channel the most enterprising and bold here, so that he won’t have to deal with them on Efra. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s holding off transferring the Master Scepter until he can use us to purge all those he doesn’t want with him.”

  Some—but not all—of Zelyert’s anger vanished. “A lightcannon linked to the Table? You’re certain of that?”

  “Recorder Chastyl noted the energy backlash through the Table when the lightcannon failed. At the time, he did not know what caused the surge. I only told him it was a weapons backlash.”

  “I’m beginning to see why Shastylt found you…difficult…Marshal.”

  Dainyl was getting greater confirmation of why Shastylt had wanted to find a way to replace Zelyert and why Khelaryt did not trust Zelyert. “I have always done the best I could under the circumstances.”

  “Commensurate with your own self-preservation.”

  “I could not continue to serve were I dead, sir.”

  Zelyert laughed, deeply, but harshly. “Sometimes, the dead serve better than in life.”

  “That may be, but you will pardon me if I avoid proving such.”

  Zelyert looked long at Dainyl.

  Dainyl met his eyes, and did not look down. He also held his shields ready.

  “Did Adya tell you about the Northern Pass?”

  “Only that Brekylt is sending road repair equipment to deal with a cliff that has not toppled and likely will not. That will give him the ability to cut off the east from all easy land access and heavy equipment transport. He’s doubtless used the flood in unauthorized long translations as a rationale to build up the guard at all Tables in the east. If any of the refugees from Soupat escaped with equipment through the Tables, he will have that as well.”

  “And you could not hurry your attacks?”

  “Had we done so, you would have no pteridons left from those who attacked. We lost only a few more than a squad.”

  “Could you not have captured that weapon?”

  “I know of no way, even afterward. But…if I had, there would likely have been no point in doing so. Or in stopping the insurgents.”

  At that, Zelyert frowned, but the expression was one of puzzlement, not anger.

  “It drew so much lifeforce that any extensive use would soon render Acorus in a lifeforce deficit, if not worse.”

  “So…that was what you meant…” The Highest nodded. “The Archon wishes to further weaken us, so that we will be in no position to challenge Efra in the years ahead.”

  Dainyl was glad not to have been the one to voice the sentiment.

  “What do you think we should do next, Marshal?”

  “Request Third and Fourth Companies fly to Dereka to deal with the growing threat posed by the ancients.”

  Zelyert’s eyebrows rose. “Exactly how do you propose to get those orders to Submarshal Noryan? Hand-carry them into Alustre?”

  “No, sir. By sandox coach. I doubt that Brekylt will stop such transport immediately.”

  “Do you expect that to work?”

  Dainyl smiled. “One way or another, it will achieve a purpose, and I see no point in waiting.”

  “No. I suppose not.” Zelyert offered a sardonic smile. “Do you think the ancients pose such a problem? Really?”

  “Does it matter, sir?” Dainyl did not want to come close to answering Zelyert’s question. “They’ve certainly created problems in the Iron Valleys.”

  “Go ahead. It can’t hurt to anticipate Brekylt.” Zelyert stood. “But I’d hope you will keep all the pteridons you can close at hand.”

  “I have been,” Dainyl replied, “and I intend to keep doing so.” Until we need them for matters of the greatest import.

  As he left the Hall of Justice, he reflected on one thing. He trusted Zelyert even less, and he’d trusted the High Alector of Justice little enough before.

  60

  After leaving the Hall of Justice, Dainyl had gone to Myrmidon headquarters. He’d checked the schedules, and spent a glass with Captain Zernylta learning everything affecting the Myrmidons that had occurred in his absence. Little of import had—except he had gotten a formal note of acceptance of rank by Majer Sevasya.

  Elcien and Ludar appeared ominously quiet, given the attacks on the two Tables and the pending transfer of the Master Scepter, a transfer no one discussed. There was a dispatch from Colonel Herolt that reported increased unrest in the Iron Valleys involving the indigens, but no immediate hostile action against the Cadmians and some increased casualties in Soupat, but the Soupat report clearly dated from before Dainyl’s attack there.

  As for Iron Stem, Dainyl felt that he had the best battalion commander there in Majer Mykel, but if the ancients became more involved, even the majer might have difficulty. Still, there wasn’t much he could do about that.

  After catching up with Zernylta, he drafted the orders to Submarshal Noryan. Noryan would either obey them and deprive Brekylt of the two companies of Myrmidons, or would refuse, and in doing so, effectively declare that he was supporting Brekylt in rebellion against the Dua
rches. Then, Dainyl had no way of knowing what Captain Josaryk would do. Sevasya might be able to keep Fourth Company there, even if Noryan stood by Brekylt.

  Perhaps Dainyl should have recommended a more patient approach, but from what he had seen, waiting tied Khelaryt’s hands more than anyone else’s. Brekylt continued to build support while professing to be an administrator loyal to the Duarches. Yet, because everything was so subterranean, Khelaryt could not remove Brekylt, not without the support of Samist, and even then, such an action would be perceived as high-handed, particularly by the engineers, who comprised the largest single group of alectors besides the Myrmidons.

  The other worry Dainyl had was the problem of lightcannon. Until he’d seen them in action in Hyalt, he hadn’t realized how destructive of lifeforce they truly were. The ones Brekylt had sent to Rhelyn in Hyalt—which Dainyl had destroyed—had used storage crystals, and that had disguised the amount of lifeforce use. Widespread use of lightcannon would be even more destructive than pteridon against pteridon.

  Dainyl finished drafting the orders for Noryan, sealed them personally, and had Zernylta deliver them to the sandox coach dispatcher. Next came his contingency plans. Those took most of the afternoon.

  Alcyna arrived at headquarters late in the afternoon, walking straight into Dainyl’s study and dropping into the chair across from him.

  “You’re tired,” he said. “Did you have any problems on the way back?”

  “No. The problems were before we left.”

  “Some alectors who escaped before everything exploded?”

  “They weren’t the problem.” Alcyna shook her head. “Several of the alectors’ dwellings away from the compound have visiting ‘relatives,’ mostly alectresses and a few infants and children. I didn’t press. There weren’t that many, probably less than the Ifryn Myrmidons killed in the takeover.”

  “The locals, then?”

  “Exactly. The council wanted to know who was going to pay for the mining and quarrying now, and when the golds would arrive. I told them to send the charges to the High Alector of Engineering. It’s his responsibility, and to mine only what had been ordered. The council head wasn’t happy with that. Then the nut growers wanted to know who was going to buy their surplus.”

  “Surplus?”

  “Apparently, one of the assistants to the RA had a small side business. I have no idea where he was selling them or why.”

  “Brekylt. Rations. Nuts keep.”

  “You’re more cynical than I am, Marshal.”

  And getting more so with each day, reflected Dainyl. “What else?”

  “Hidden whining about use and damage to the patroller barracks. They’re so polite. They bow and scrape and are so reasonable. ‘Most honorable alector’…‘highest of the high’…I heard more new titles in the day since you left than in all the years in the east.”

  “Do you think we’ve blocked access to the Table there well enough?”

  “Unless you’re a snake or an ancient. Supposedly, they can go through rock.”

  “Neither is a problem in Soupat,” Dainyl said dryly. “I’ve sent orders to Noryan to deploy Third and Fourth Companies to Dereka to deal with a possible ancient threat.”

  “He’s not likely to get them.”

  “I sent them by sandox coach. I thought it was worth a try.”

  “At what? Forcing Noryan into a corner?”

  “We’re all in corners. I’d rather see him in ours, or not in Brekylt’s.”

  “Is there really an ancient threat?”

  “Yes. Zelyert doesn’t understand it or think that there could be.”

  “I think we outnumber them,” mused Alcyna. “A few of those light-rifles might have helped.”

  “They might, but…we don’t have them.”

  “Do you think they’ll actually attack? The ancients, that is?”

  “I don’t know what they’ll do, but I can’t believe they won’t do something, and do it at the worst possible time for us.”

  “You believe that, don’t you?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s frightening.”

  Dainyl didn’t understand that. Everyone had beliefs.

  “Marshal. One reason I’m here, rather than in Alustre, is because I saw one thing. You don’t always have the best strategy. You’re far from the best politician. But when you say that something is going to happen, you’re very seldom wrong. Information is power, and in that respect, you’re the most powerful alector on Acorus.”

  To Dainyl, the fact that she believed that was chilling. “Now that we’re both frightened, what else do we do? Did you see the High Alector?”

  She shook her head. “Chastyl said he was at a meeting. He didn’t say where, and he wasn’t happy admitting that.”

  Ludar? That was Dainyl’s first thought.

  “What will you do next? What do you want me to do?”

  “Find out what you can and help me keep us from sending Myrmidons where they don’t need to go. I’m going to Dereka tonight.”

  “Lystrana might have some good ideas.” Alcyna paused. “Alectresses tend to support you more than do alectors. Why do you think that’s so?”

  Dainyl hadn’t noticed that, not exactly. “I could guess. Why do you think so?”

  “You’re more interested in solving the problem and getting the task done. You only want power as a tool. Most alectors want power to prove they’re the most powerful. Alectresses are more interested in results than power. Power is nice, but results count and last longer.”

  Dainyl couldn’t disagree with her conclusion. “Go get some rest,” he finally said. “I’ll see you later tomorrow. There are multiple reasons I’m going to Dereka. I hope to be back before midday tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir.” Alcyna rose. “Some sleep on a decent bed would be good.”

  After she left, Dainyl thought again about her comment about alectresses. It had taken him aback, slightly, but he’d thought about it, and there was more than a little truth in it. Most of his promotions and appointments had gone to alectresses. He’d always trusted Lystrana, from far before they fell in love—or he had fallen in love with her. And he was always asking what kind of power other alectors sought, and why. That Alcyna had recognized it so quickly—and used it to remind him that he should stay task-oriented—was another confirmation of the submarshal’s abilities.

  Less than a glass later, he took the duty coach back to his house to pick up some clean uniforms, and then had the driver take him to the Hall of Justice.

  Zelyert was not in the Hall itself, nor in his private study, and Dainyl made his way to the Table chamber, carrying a small bag of uniforms and personal gear. Dainyl couldn’t help but force himself to step onto the Table. Smiling at Chastyl was even harder. “Oh…when do you expect the Highest back from Ludar?”

  The momentarily frozen expression and the inner shock were enough to confirm that was indeed where Zelyert was.

  “He didn’t say where he was going, sir, or when he would return.”

  Dainyl nodded. “If he asks, tell him I’m in Dereka, arranging for some matters we discussed.”

  “Yes, sir.” The words concealed another feeling of puzzlement.

  That was fine with Dainyl. He concentrated on the darkness beneath the Table and felt himself slip through the mirrored surface and…

  …into the cool purpleness of the translation tube.

  He concentrated on the crimson-golden locator of Dereka, to the exclusion of all else, until the locator neared him.

  The number of purplish flashes and streaks were far less than when he had translated to Tempre a week before, but the looming, yet distant feel of amber-green power remained, like a cliff overhanging all the Tables, held back only by some unseen and unsensed force.

  The immensity of that force was so great that he remained immobile as he flashed through the silvered, crimson-gold barrier and…

  …took a staggering step.

  “It’s the
marshal!”

  As he took another step to catch his balance, swinging the gear bag slightly, Dainyl recognized Jonyst’s voice.

  The Recorder of Deeds looked far older than the last time Dainyl had seen him. His face was lined, uncharacteristically for an alector, and the streaks of white in his black hair were wider and far more pronounced.

  Dainyl recognized none of the guards, but his Talent-sense registered that two had translated recently from Ifryn. He did not comment upon that as he stepped off the Table.

  Jonyst stepped forward with a smile. “Guersa’s still on duty. She will be more than pleased to take you to the RA’s quarters. I assume that’s where you’re headed?”

  “Tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll be checking on Fifth Company.”

  “I’d thought you might be doing that.”

  Dainyl inclined his head to the doorway that framed the staircase leading up to the elegant library. “Do you have a moment?”

  “So long as we leave the doors open.”

  “We can do that.” Dainyl led the way.

  As he stepped into the paneled spacious library, for a moment he was startled at the darkness outside the wide windows overlooking the main boulevard. He should not have been. Dereka was more than 1,100 vingts east of Elcien, and its sunset came earlier. Sometimes, though, he was still taken by surprise by the time effects of Table translation. He set his bag on a carved chair pulled away from one of the tables, on which were several stacks of papers.

  “What did you want to talk about?” asked Jonyst, standing just beyond the top of the staircase, where he could hear an alarm from below.

  “I’m worried about the ancients.” Dainyl saw no reason to be indirect with Jonyst. “I can occasionally sense something that feels like them when I’m translating, and there’s been a great deal more activity with their creatures in the Iron Valleys.”

  Jonyst nodded slowly. “You’re more perceptive than most, Marshal. The Table monitors sometimes show flickers of another kind of Talent energy.” He shrugged wearily. “We can’t tell where it’s located, or what it might do, if anything.”

  “I thought you might have some thoughts, since this was once a city of the ancients.”