Second Veil

by Wilson, David

  "It's going to hold," Euphrankes said. "You know it. You helped design it."

  "Old habits die hard," she said. "I'm used to worrying about air."

  "With a little luck," Euphrankes said, drawing her after him onto the bed, "We'll soon be dreaming and worrying about space. All around us. Space with no boundaries."

  Aria shivered and curled into his arms.

  "Sometimes you frighten me," she said.

  Euphrankes laughed and kissed her on the cheek. They slept like that, tangled around and over one another, as their world changed around them, shaping their dreams.

  Chapter Five

  Maester Zins stood on the bridge of the airship Axis, staring through the great glass windows into the darkness between the veils. They had made good speed, but still he doubted they'd reach Urv before the brilliant object that lit the sky made contact. His men had worked the angles and trajectories, and they believed it would clip the outer shell of the First Veil just on the edge of the city. It could be worse. If they worked quickly, and if the figures were accurate, any rend might be encased by a portal in time not to lose the entire atmosphere of the city.

  Zins didn't believe it, though. What he believed was that he and his ship were on a rescue/salvage mission such as the planet had never seen. He'd cut down to a skeleton crew of himself and two others, and emptied his cargo holds. The Axis could carry about a hundred passengers in an emergency, and if not laden with other stores. He didn't know how The High Council would determine which hundred would go, but he'd known the minute the fiery object appeared in the sky that he had to act. If he couldn't save them all, he could save some.

  The High Council had responded very quickly to his message, asking if they were in need of assistance. Of course, he'd already known the answer to the question, but it was still entertaining to see High Councilor Cumby acting so solicitous. He knew that if the man could have ordered him to come, he'd have done so without hesitation. Zins also knew he'd have to be very careful not to get into a position where The Council could seize his ship.

  He had no illusions about The Council's opinion of him. They had condemned air travel, and thus, they had condemned those who pursued it. The fact he was racing to their aid would soften their attitude some, but he needed to be certain he maintained the upper hand in the hours to come.

  He had tried in vain to contact Euphrankes Holmynn and The Vector. He couldn't believe his old comrade wasn't aware of the threat. Hopefully there was a good reason for his silence, and they'd meet in Urv before all was said and done. It would be a lot easier to maintain his control and to evacuate the city if all the airship captains worked together.

  The Axis was similar to the Vector in function but bore distinctly different lines. Long and sleek with a hull of lightweight Imperium, the Axis could maintain higher speeds, but was designed to carry smaller cargo. Maester Zins was a food merchant, and though he made stops at three of the major agricultural pods on his trade journeys, what he carried was insignificant compared to the machinery and technology coming in regularly from The Outpost.

  It had long been a wonder to Zins how The Council could continue to antagonize Euphrankes, who, along with his father, had supplied most of the new technology patching their dying city together. Now, with disaster dropping on them from the skies, they would need The Outpost's ingenuity more than ever – and it appeared they might be denied it. If Euphrankes was aware of the threat, and had determined to let the city handle its own problems, then a rift had been torn that might never be repaired.

  Termac, Zins' engineer, stepped onto the bridge and broke his reverie.

  "We've been tracking that object," he said. "The trajectory has not changed, and the speed is constant. In a little more than a day it's going to make contact with the outer edge of the First Veil. At that speed, and with the heat generated in flight, it's going to be a mess."

  Zins nodded.

  "We should arrive in time, then," he said. "A lot will depend on how much they've figured out on their own, and how organized The Council can make evacuation. I wish there was somewhere close and safe we could ferry the people to, but we're only going to have time to make it out with one load."

  Termac stared out into the darkness.

  "There's going to be a lot of people left behind," he said. "Maybe you'd better have Reid and Jen check the weapons. I don't like to think about it, but if they try to storm the ship, we'd better be able and ready to fight them off, or we'll be dying right along with them."

  Zins had already considered this possibility. He didn't like to believe that the citizens of Urv would lose control so completely, but it was possible. Who knew how they'd handle the news of their own imminent demise? Myril would no doubt harangue them in The Temple with promises of rewards in the next life, while explaining how he and his priests would be needed elsewhere, to help usher others along their path to fulfillment. Of course, the priests would want to be saved. The Council would want the same, though they were among the oldest and closest to natural death of all Urv's inhabitants. It was going to be a disaster.

  Zins slapped his hand onto the intercom button and called for Jen. She'd be able to relay his instructions to Reid, and it saved him listening to his Communications Officer's loud, lengthy opinion on the matter. Under normal circumstances, such rants made Zins smile, but this time he didn't think he could stand it.

  A moment later Jen stepped onto the bridge. She was the youngest member of their crew, short with blonde hair and all but invaluable. She knew the electronics systems inside and out, and she could chart by the stars better than any save Zins himself. Her father had served on one of the first airships, and she'd been fascinated by them since her birth. Now she was like family – and Zins hated that he was dragging her into what was to come.

  "What's up, Skipper?" she asked, grinning at him.

  "Don't call me that," he said reflexively.

  "Yes Sir," she replied, tossing in a "Skipper" under her breath.

  "We're likely to run into some pretty serious confrontations in Urv," he said. "I need you and Reid to check the weapons. Start with the embedded systems, and then see how we're fitted for portable weapons and protective gear. I hope it doesn't come down to a situation where we need it, but it's better to be prepared."

  Jen looked troubled.

  "I have family in Urv," she said. "So does Reid; his brother and family are there. How do we decide? We can fit maybe a hundred…"

  Zins cut her off.

  "We can't worry about that now," he said. "We have to see what the situation is when we arrive. It's still possible that whatever damage is done to the veils will be reparable. We've added airlocks for the ships; it should be possible to use the same principle on a break in the outer wall."

  "Airlocks for the ship are carefully created," Jen said. "They are very thin tears that are sealed before they are opened. It's not the same thing, and you know it. I can predict where that chunk is going to hit, but not how large the hole will be. Even if we tried to be prepared, we'd need an airlock the size of a house to cover the area where the strike will occur, and the odds are whatever we put in place would be damaged in the collision. This is an evacuation mission, and we'd better get used to it."

  Jen didn't wait for a response. She turned and left the bridge, going in search of Reid.

  "She's right, you know," Termac said. "There's no way that hole is getting repaired."

  "I know that it sounds like a long shot," Zins said, "but I'm hanging onto it because it keeps me sane. I'm not ready to write off a whole city full of people until they're actually gone."

  "All the same," Termac replied, "If you have any relatives in Urv, now would be a good time to figure out how you're going to slip them on board. With The Council and the priests, we'll have what – fifty seats left?"

  "Maybe we should consider whose stubborn ignorance brought us to this position," Zins said softly. "Without including the priests, or The Council, we could save a lot more people."<
br />
  Termac stared at him a moment, and then turned to stare through the portal. He didn't answer, but as he turned away, Zins caught the ghost of a grim smile.

  Chapter Six

  There was no ignoring the fact that Urv's hours were numbered. They no longer had the luxury of days. It wouldn't be long before the hours dropped away to minutes. The High Council had stood in the Chamber of Stars with the priests of The Temple and watched all that they'd stood for in their long, bitter lives threaten to crumble away in so much flame.

  "It is a punishment," Myril had said. "It has been sent because we allowed the piercing of the First Veil, and did not have enough faith."

  High Councilor Cumby had heard those words, and something inside that had been frail and brittle for a very long time, snapped. It made no sense. None of it made sense. Suddenly he saw The Council Chamber, which had always seemed such a safe, timeless place, as the empty shell of stone and steel that it was. The air tasted stale, and the huge airlocks that had represented stability and safety for so long felt like seals on a grave.

  Now he sat alone at the huge council table. He'd dispatched the others to find any who were loyal and to begin an evacuation. The city was doomed, but the roads – the few roads still safely within the First Veil – were good. If they moved quickly, and if they were very lucky, they could get most of the people into those roads and manage to seal them off from the other side. Some of those escaping might even make it. Cumby didn't believe it, but it was hope, and when everything else is denied, hope must stand tall and be acknowledged.

  Myril had sealed himself off in his temple. He claimed to believe that whoever had set the veils in place would come to their aid. He had wasted a lot of precious air bemoaning the ways they had turned from their faith, and the consequences of those transgressions. The truth was, none of the transgressions would have been necessary if their world weren't dying.

  Footsteps echoed in the hall beyond the chamber door. A moment later Amharic, the youngest member of The Council, entered the room. He hurried around the table to where Cumby sat, his eyes wild and his hair, only just beginning to go gray at the temples, sticking out from the sides of his head at crazy angles.

  "There is an airship!" he cried, as soon as he was in range. "We believe it is the Axis, though we have not been able to establish communications."

  "A rescue mission?" Cumby asked. "A single ship? They will be able to do little."

  "Have you lost your senses?" Amharic asked. He stepped closer and took High Councilor Cumby by the arm. "We must get onto that ship. We must take control of it. If we lose the city, we must survive. The planet needs leadership."

  Cumby laughed, and it was a dry sound, devoid of mirth.

  "Is that what you believe?" he asked. "Is that really what all of this brings to your mind, that we should gather our tired old bones and seize one of the very ships that Myril and his priests blame this whole disaster on, just so that we can fly away to a different city, seal ourselves in another building, and tell people we know what's best for them? Is that your plan?"

  "The Council has always ruled," Amharic said. "What else is there?"

  High Councilor Cumby rose from his seat slowly. He was old, but he had cared for himself well. He often walked the streets of the city, taking in details and pretending that all of it was under control – his control. Now he needed to take another walk. He didn't know if they could get onto the Axis. He didn't even know if they should try. He did know he would go to the air towers, and that he would do what was expected of him. He would try to survive, and he would try to see that the rest of The Council survived. There was nothing else left to him.

  ~ * ~

  The streets were alive with motion. Cumby had never seen so much life. It wasn't the way things happened in Urv. If you had work, or a meeting, or you needed to visit someone across the city, you exited your airlock, moved through the streets as quickly as possible, and entered the lock at the other end. People avoided the streets, and they avoided crowds, but today – today they were everywhere.

  He walked flanked by four large, silent guards, and for the first time since he'd been appointed to The Council more than forty years earlier, he was very glad that they were there. Questions were called out to him, but he ignored them. He met no one's eye. He had no answers for them, and though there were words they'd expect to hear anyway, he couldn't bring the old lies to his lips. He didn't believe in them any longer, and he didn't believe he could look into the eyes of a man or woman likely to die in the next few hours and feed them platitudes. He was afraid he'd scream at them to run. He was afraid he'd push them toward the old roads, and laugh at them for coming to him – to a tired old man who'd spent too many years in a comfortable chair playing God to be of any use to them – for help.

  ~ * ~

  The grounds near the air tower teemed with people. High Councilor Cumby, accompanied by his guards, and Amharic, pushed their way through the center of the crowd toward the nearest tower. It was the larger of the two, and Cumby could see that the rest of The Council was gathered at the base, surrounded by more of the guards. There was no airship in sight, and Cumby wondered briefly if the Axis would even arrive before it was too late.

  They'd passed two of the old roads on their way. Each had swarmed with workers, and the roads nearby had been filled with lines of men, women, and children with carts and bags, crates and transports of all types, trying to force their way through into the pressurized tunnels without interfering with the workers installing the great airlocks. It seemed impossible that the work could be completed under such circumstances, but to their credit, the citizens of Urv forged ahead.

  Once, Cumby had stopped a particularly large group headed for the air towers and directed them back to the nearest road. He'd been surprised how grateful they were that he spoke, and how quickly they listened to him and hurried off to do as he bid them. They were as conditioned as he was. He wondered if they knew he was only sending them to a slightly less likely death. He wondered if they even cared, or if they just needed someone, or something to believe in.

  They reached the rest of The Council, and Cumby called them together for a report.

  "We have an open communications channel with the Axis," Illana Mirkos told him. Her voice was shrill and reedy, much weaker than it sounded in The Council chamber. "Maester Zins has asked to dock. He is aware of the – the object. He wants to help."

  "I'm sure he does," Cumby replied. "Has he mentioned how he plans to help?"

  "He has to take us on board," Illana replied. Her eyes narrowed, and her voice, if possible, grew even shriller. "He has to take The Council on board so that we can be moved to another city. He…"

  "Illana, calm down," Cumby said. "It's time we looked at this realistically. Maester Zins does not have to do anything. We could threaten him, but what then? If he does not dock, and does not take anyone on board, the city will be destroyed. We will be destroyed. It would be rather difficult to banish or sanction him from beyond the grave. I don't believe now is the time to try issuing orders or proclamations. How far out is he?"

  "I…" Illana fell silent.

  "He will be docking in less than an hour," Amharic cut in, turning away from the man operating the radio equipment. "He has been clear that he will not open his airlocks unless there is a plan. He has also been clear that he will not allow any force on board his ship that has reason or means to take control."

  "In short," Cumby said, "Maester Zins has been dealing with our Council for too many years now not to understand how we operate, and he doesn't trust us. That is going to make it more difficult to save anyone, because if he won't open his airlocks, no one is going to get on board that airship."

  There was a commotion in the crowd, and Cumby turned. Myril and his priests were cutting a swath through the center of those gathered, moving more quickly than Cumby could ever remember seeing them. They had no guards protecting them, but they were dressed in all the finery The Temple had to offe
r. It was enough. The people could not overcome centuries of conditioning. They parted and the priests came through, Myril in the lead, making their way directly to the base of the air tower and the circled Council members.

  It was just then that crowd let out a cry. The Axis had drifted into sight, high above the city. It looked like a huge, man-made cloud.

  Chapter Seven

  The tracker rolled slowly through the portal and into the road beyond. The patches were holding, and the mechanisms and parts from the removal of the airlocks lay piled to either side, ready if they needed it.

  Working through the night had paid off. The road was clear as far as they could see. The veil covering the road shimmered overhead, stretching up well above the tracker's roof and a good ten yards to either side. Larger vehicles could make the transit, but the closer they came to filling the space available, the more danger there was of causing a breach. The tracker was the largest legal transit vehicle to make the trip to The Outpost in Euphrankes’ lifetime, and they kept it rolling carefully down the center.

  Euphrankes had the first shift at the wheel, and Aria sat beside him. They wore protective clothing – leather jackets and soft leather helmets. There were masks, gloves, boots, and breathing apparatus that they could don if they needed to work in an unsealed area. They kept the protective gear to a minimum while safely sealed inside the tracker.

  The helmets came with field glasses built in. Normally these were worn back on the head, but Aria had hers down so she could scan the road ahead. It was unlikely that they would run into any sort of detritus on the way, but it had been a long time since the last trip they'd made, and they couldn't be certain that, in the panic over the breach in the veil, things had not been dropped or left behind. They couldn't afford to break down – there was nothing left at The Outpost with enough power to tow the tracker back, and no one ahead was likely to come to their aid – at least not until they reached Urv and did what they could to avert the coming disaster.