“So, here’s what I want you to do. I want you to order me some transportation. I’m going there. And I’m not only going to prove that this part of the map is a fake, I’m going to find the inspiration I need to finish this project.”
“Celi!” her companion protested. “It’s too dangerous! Those ruins are filled with all sorts of bad things, and they’re so old they could fall down on you. I let you go to that meeting with the rebel girl, and just look at how that turned out. I’m not going to make the same mistake this time, Celi. You have to stay here!”
“Clio, are you disobeying me?” Celina asked, not quite believing her ears.
“Yes, Celi,” Clio replied. “I’m sorry, but I am. You can’t go. I won’t let you.”
While it said this, the AI activated the house’s security features. Every door and window closed and locked, and the armored shutters, designed to defend against external attack, slid down into place.
Celina’s connection with the omniplex also went dead, and when she tried it, she found that her psiever signals had been blocked. She was a prisoner in her own home.
In all of their years together, she had never imagined that Clio would do something like this. Clio had always been her patient servant, and she had simply taken that compliance for granted. Only the episode in the ETR had given any indication otherwise, and now she saw just how independent the AI really was, and how blind she had been.
“Clio! Unlock the house.” she demanded.
“No, Celi,” the AI answered. “My job is to protect you, and I will. We have enough food and water to sustain you for several weeks and the fire suppression devices are operating at optimal efficiency.’
“You’re going to stay here until you realize how foolish you’re being, and come to your senses. Would you like me to play the Song again for you while we wait? Or work on something else? I know that composing always calms your nerves.”
“No Clio,” Celina snapped. “I’m not in the mood to compose. All I want is for you to let me out of here!”
“I can’t,” Clio returned. “You’re clearly irrational. I think you should sit down, take a deep series of breaths and try to view this logically. Really, Celi, once you stop and consider the situation dispassionately, you’ll agree that going into those ruins is a very bad idea.”
Celina sat. Not because she was actually capitulating to Clio’s desires, but because she couldn’t figure out what else to do. Her virtual companion was in complete control.
Next door, in what the musician believed was the home of a wealthy importer, Silvi bel Thana watched the interchange between Celina and her AI with interest. Despite the AI’s blockade, the surveillance devices she had had put in place were functioning perfectly, and providing her with up to the second holos.
The situation was unacceptable. Celina needed to be free. She had to get to the Necropolis.
Silvi turned to the tech sitting in front of the surveillance monitor. “Disable that AI and unlock the house. When she calls for a service tech, make sure that we give her an explanation that she’ll believe.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the tech replied. “I’ll handle it myself. I’ll tell her that this was a program error and that the AI had a safety measure built into it that overrode everything.”
Silvi nodded in satisfaction, and the tech sent the command. Clio immediately went into a dormant mode. A moment later, the house unlocked. In the holo, a surprised Celina stood up and looked around her living area, utterly confused by this sudden turn of events.
“Well done,” Silvi said. “Now, let’s also make sure that she doesn’t have any trouble renting a ground vehicle. I want her on her way as soon as possible. The last thing we need is some silly issue with the rental agency standing in the way of destiny.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the tech replied.
“Oh and one other thing,” Silvi added. “Send a message to my sister. Tell her that it’s time. I will rendezvous with her when she arrives.”
***
Castle Dunbaihr, on the coast of Durandel’s central continent, was owned by the Ministré da Sorelle da Conservazi Intérni, the Sisterhood Department of Interior Preservation. As far as the locals knew, it was part of the government’s efforts to preserve historical places.
There were even tours available for off-world visitors. Despite all the changes it had weathered, Durandel was still considered to be a vacation spot, and the castle was a favorite stopping place for sightseers.
But Castle Dunbaihr also had another side to it that neither the tourists, nor the Galla-speaking population were aware of. In addition to housing the MSCI’s planetary offices, it also played host to the Hive, which was located more than 20 kilometers beneath its foundations, and encased inside a specially shielded and armored cavern.
At the very heart of this secret installation, Angelique sat at the head of a long conference table, doing her best to seem strained and weary. She was after all, the Director of the RSE, and expected to exhibit a certain amount of distress over what was unquestionably one of the worst acts of terrorism the Sisterhood had ever faced.
To help convey this illusion, she had been careful with her makeup, making sure to add just the right touch of darkness under her eyes without spoiling her looks, and she had even allowed a few hairs to remain free in order to give her otherwise perfect appearance the right amount of dishevelment.
The officers all around her were watching the holo SNN had received just minutes after the bombings. It hadn’t been aired of course; in order to deny the terrorists the podium they wanted to further their cause, the RSE had ordered it quashed. Despite this measure however, copies of it had still been posted anonymously on the omniplex and there, it was quickly going viral.
Not that Angelique was particularly concerned. She had other matters on her mind that were far more important. She still feigned interest though, for the sake of appearances.
The speaker in the holo was none other than Ellen n’Elemay, and her image floated above the conference table like some kind of vengeful spirit from the afterlife.
“My name is Ellen n’Elemay,” she began. “I’m sure that you’re wondering why I’m letting you see my face and telling you my name. The reasons are simple. Your Sisterhood has the technology to reconstruct my features even under a mask, and they can easily unscramble my voice if I tried to disguise it.’
“There’s also one more reason. I wanted you to know who I am. I wanted you to put a face to your enemy—and to see that I am a woman just like you are. I defended the Sisterhood as a Marine for most of my adult life. I kept you safe.’
“Then your Sisterhood attacked my Church, using lies and deceit to get your cooperation and your approval. It killed my Pope and it defiled my motherworlds. Even though they claim that we were traitors, this is a lie. We never intended you any harm and we were loyal to the Sisterhood. Our only crime was believing differently than you do.”
“Now things have changed. With God’s blessing we will fight your government with everything we have, and as you learned today, we can hurt it. We can defeat it. We are everywhere, and we look just like your sisters because we are your sisters.’
“And we will not give up until the evil that resides in Thermadon is cleansed by God’s holy wrath. Rise up with us and fight, or face us in battle and be damned. God’s will be done!”
The holo ended there, and one of her subordinates, a Major with the Domestic Security Department, gave Angelique a summary of the latest developments.
“We have positively confirmed that this woman and the Marine Troop Leader the Corps has on record are one in the same. Unfortunately, she and her fellow conspirators remain at large. A coordinated manhunt is under way.”
A Colonel with External Threats spoke up. “Do we have any idea where the Daughters of Eve got these weapons in the first place?” Angelique already knew the answer to that, but she left it to the Major to explain.
“To the best of our knowledge, the Major replied, “
an ETR Colonel stationed on Cespedaa made contact with a Hriss clan, and brokered the deal for the Daughters. Apparently, he had Loyalista sympathies as well as a personal axe to grind. His only son was killed by our forces when we defeated their 14th Fleet.”
“Where is he now?” The Colonel asked.
“Dead,” the Major stated. “When we sent agents to take him into custody, he had already committed suicide. He also left a note behind that clearly implicated him in the transaction. We’ve tried to locate his subordinates, but they’ve all vanished, and we have reason to believe that the Loyalistas are hiding them.”
“Is there a chance that there are other devices out there that we aren’t aware of?” the Colonel inquired.
“Certainly,” the Major answered. “The Hriss clans have thousands of them in their arsenal. There’s no way of knowing how many they gave away to the Marionites.’
“We’re also tasking the ESN to check against their database of stockpiled devices just to make certain that we won’t have anything being fielded against us from that quarter. So far though, every Republican weapon seems to be accounted for.”
It always gets down to the Hriss, Angelique thought bitterly. This would end once the Conversâzi had the Secret. The Hriss and the Greys would be among the very first to experience its full potential.
“What is the status of our assets on Thermadon?” another officer was asking. “And do we have any word on the Chairwoman, or the Circle members?”
“As of 05.83 hours, we have not received any replies from RSE Headquarters” the Major told her, “and we are still attempting to ascertain the status of all the members of the Supreme Circle, which as you know, was in session at the time. Only Senatrix t’Tallya has been located so far. Apparently she was off-world, visiting her constituents.”
“Ladies,” Angelique interjected, “I think that we will have to assume the absolute worst.” She was growing tired of the briefing and wanted to conclude it.
“As of now, the Hive is officially on active status. Have preparations been made to deliver the Queen Bee to us?”
“Senatrix t’Tallya is on her way as we speak, ma’am,” the Major replied. “She was sworn in as acting Chairwoman aboard the USSNS Eumache. Rixa estimated that she will arrive here by 08.75 hours.”
Angelique had to fight the urge to frown. With Layna n’Calysher and all of the Conversâzi’s allies in Galaxa dead, T’Tallya was the very last person that she wanted serving as Chairwoman.
She wasn’t overly concerned however. She would see to it that T’Tallya was eliminated as quickly as possible, and then elevate Felecia n’Calysher to her position. The girl was far more tractable, and would serve her perfectly as a figurehead. And once the Secret rendered the Sisterhood’s current form of government obsolete, the young woman could go on to become her Prime Minister—unless she too chose to become an impediment. In that case, there was still plenty of ‘Lucrezia’ left to handle the situation.
“Good,” she lied. “I will expect you to see to it that once she arrives, that our new Chairwoman is properly ensconced, and you are to render her whatever assistance she requires, Major. I imagine that she will need all the help she can get.”
The officer was taken aback. “Ma’am? Aren’t you going to be here to breif her?”
“No,” Angelique said. “I have an urgent matter of national security to attend to. Until I have completed my mission, you and your staff will be in complete command of the Hive.”
As she strode out, and all of the officers rose from their places, and saluted, she could see the confusion on their collective faces. But she ignored it, and put the meeting out of her mind. Instead, she summoned her adjutant.
“Contact Rixa,” she instructed, “and have a battle group tasked for my use. If they ask why I need it, tell them the same thing that I just told the Major—that this is a matter of national security.”
The woman started to turn on her heels to carry out her orders, but Angelique stopped her. “One more thing; I want the emergency travel restrictions for civilians lifted immediately.”
This step was vital. The Three had to be able to reach their destination without any interference.
Storm, Agleope System, Sagana Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1049.03|06|05:53:61
When the Church had chosen her to lead a group of pilgrims to Storm, Kaaryn fa’Maala had been proud to serve, and the hazards of their journey hadn’t dissuaded her from answering God’s call. Even though scores of groups just like her own had gone there and disappeared, the chance to have God reveal his great vision, and then to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Redeemer while he smote their enemies, had made the risks seem worthwhile.
Now though, her faith and enthusiasm were not quite so strong. The dark labyrinth of the Drow’voi tunnels was a lonely and frightening place, and she didn’t hesitate to cross herself and utter a little prayer to Mother Mari as she moved along. Several of her compatriots were doing the same thing.
Up ahead of them, something was illuminating the passage, and the nearer that they got to it, the more certain she was that they had reached their destination at last.
Rounding a corner, they found themselves at the entrance to a large chamber. Like the rest of the ruin, its walls were smooth and oddly shaped, with folds that seemed more appropriate to an organic thing than any architecture that she was familiar with.
It was illuminated by a single lantern, and in the very center of the space, a woman hovered above the floor. Odd lights danced all over her body, and her image didn’t remain stable. Instead, it shifted from something solid looking and real, to a mere ghost, and back again, as if she were phasing in and out of the universe that Fa’Maala knew to somewhere unknowable.
Beneath this unearthly figure, and littering the floor, were empty food containers, suggesting that she had made this place her camp. And on the wall behind her, were the three stars of the Faith. The mural was crude, and it had been made with some kind of brownish substance that was flaking away in places. For some reason, this reminded Fa’Maala strongly of dried blood, and the thought disturbed her.
But it was nowhere near as unsettling as the pile of backpacks and kit-bags that had been heaped up in a corner. They had been tossed there in one great, untidy heap. By the dozens.
Forcing her rising trepidation back, she stepped forwards. Behind her, her companions were hesitating, uncertain whether they should follow or not.
Noticing them at last, the woman looked up, and gave them a grin that was neither friendly, nor spiritual.
“Perhaps you should pray,” she advised them. The air in the chamber had begun to shimmer and Fa’Maala detected the scent of ozone. She had smelled it many times before, on her motherworld of Faith. Right before a violent electrical storm occurred.
Her instincts screamed at her to run. But it was far too late for that. An instant later, the storm came, and claimed them all…
…Afterwards, when it was over, Shandra n’Aida lay on the floor, tenderly caressing Kaaryn fa’Maala’s naked form like the sister that she now was. The same lights that had coursed through her now traveled under the skin of the young pilgrim. Even though Fa’Maala was in a coma at the moment, N’Aida knew that another Voice had finally found a home for itself.
The fact that half the dissolved body parts of her companions were strewn all around them didn’t matter to her any more than the blood she had used to paint her mural with. They, and their imperfect owners, were only the dross left over from the process, and hardly worth worrying over. What mattered was the end result, lying in her arms.
When Fa’Maala awoke, they would clean up the mess and leave this miserable place, together. There were now three Voices and nothing, was more important, nor more glorious than that.
Grunvaald Haarmaaneplaatz, Vaalkenstaad Township, Zommerlaand, Sunna 3, Solara Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1049.03|07|01:25:00
The landscape that Grammy found herself standing in made her laugh to herself.
I should have known that my time would come around sooner or later, she thought.
Everyone else who had been to this place had experienced confusion and even fear, but she felt only curiosity and a sense of calm. Her work as a Vitkaa had prepared her for the fantastic in advance. Grammy had lived her entire life surrounded by the unknown and the incredible, and had come to simply accept the incomprehensible when it appeared. The answers, she knew, would reveal themselves in their own time. They always did.
Leaving this to powers higher than herself, she walked into the Necropolis, letting herself enjoy the journey through the maze of towering structures. A woman was waiting for her in the middle of the great plaza.
She had had glimpses of the Galaxy Mind throughout her life and had seen its hand at work in many places, but this was the closest that she had ever come to dealing with it directly.
A smile came to her face. The figure had put on the mask of someone that she knew and loved. It looked exactly like her former teacher, Una Siggasdaater, who had been dead for many years. And in a very real sense, it actually was her old mentor.
“When do I go?” she asked it.
Una’s twin smiled. “Today, Klaana Ster”.
It had been many decades since Grammy had heard herself called ‘Little Star’, and it warmed her heart.
“But be warned,” the woman added, “It will be very dangerous.”
“I know,” Grammy replied. She didn’t need to ask it for any clarifications, and she also understood that in its own way, it would watch over her, and help her when and where it could.
Had she had the choice, she would have rather have remained with it there forever, but this was not to be. Not yet.
“The thread of your life has not reached its end,” it told her. “The Fates are not ready to make the final cut. You have important work to do before that time, Helga.”
Although she had dearly wanted to hear something else, Grammy accepted this. Like Kaly, Lilith and the others that she had surrounded herself with, she was also a warrioress. Her battlefield was much different than theirs, but no less demanding, and she fully understood the obligations of duty.
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