The entire superstructure of the vessel was angular and shiny. While the overall impression was that of a shimmering brownish black, colors rippled from the surface. A single Hammer streak flared from that mast—striking the sea cliffs to the south of where the canal wall ended. Dust flared into the midday sky.
Just as quickly, the Aesyr vessel vanished.
“Where did it go?” demanded Symra, who had returned to the chamber so quietly that Duhyle hadn’t noticed her. Blackish purple darkened her lashes.
Duhyle knew the ship was still there. It couldn’t have moved, but it had become invisible to scanners at any frequency.
“Energy-shielded,” observed Helkyria. “A laser would bend away from it now.”
“They could have approached unseen.”
“Not at that speed. The waves its mass created would have given it away. Besides, Baeldura wanted us to know what the ship can do. Let’s see if…”
Abruptly, the light around the three shifted. The illumination wasn’t more intense or less so. It was subtly, if fundamentally, different.
The chamber in which Duhyle sat changed as well. Before him rose a bank of instruments, or equipment, reaching from floor to ceiling. Yet he could make out none of it in detail. The dimensions or the properties of what he beheld shifted even as he tried to determine what lay before him. He squinted, trying to focus on the narrow console in front of him, only to see it widen, and then shrink to half its height before turning from a bluish silver to pewter gray, and then to silvered gold. A row of strange high-backed chairs stretched out beside him. He saw and felt that he was sitting in one, his arms lying comfortably in armrests, with controls under his fingers. A silver-haired woman sat beside him, except suddenly she was a dark-haired man with a square beard.
Duhyle opened his mouth to speak, and strange and incomprehensible words echoed in his ears.
Then, as suddenly as it had all enfolded him, the visions vanished.
He glanced toward Helkyria. The tips of his consort’s hair had flared silver, then subsided as he watched. “What—”
“That couldn’t be…equipment like that…” Symra’s voice died away.
“Intersection of conflicting shadow harmonics,” Helkyria said. “I’m judging that they bend time, or fragment it, or fragment our understanding of it. I’m still having trouble calibrating some of this.”
“Did you see…was this a control room of some sort?”
“It was a control room of many sorts, probably for years. That was then. Right now, we still need to deal with the Aesyr ship out there.”
That might be so, but the stark and spare space where Duhyle sat was alien in comparison to what he had experienced, if only briefly. He took a deep breath, massaged his forehead, and returned to studying the monitor images.
From the angle of the station scanners, he could see that the Aesyr Hammer strike had carved from the stone ramparts of the western coast a semicircle a good kay across. The scanners could not see how deep the damage went. From the stream rising from below, Duhyle judged that a new bay lay at the base of the reconfigured topography.
“The Hammer strike was aimed at us,” Helkyria said, her voice even.
“What are they trying to do?” asked Symra.
“The same thing as all true believers—use force to remake the world to fit their views,” replied Helkyria. “Like all believers, they feel that they’ve been wronged by others’ inability to see that only they have the answers and the way.”
“People aren’t like that,” protested the subcaptain.
Not all people, thought Duhyle, but all too many. If no one stands up to those who want to force their views on others, then everyone suffers.
“Quiet. We’re getting a message. It’s Baeldura.”
An image appeared on the reception monitor. Duhyle projected it so Symra could see.
The woman who stood before them was tall, with neck-length flaming red hair, and silvered black eyes. She wore a plain black singlesuit with no insignia. No background projected with her, suggesting that she did not wish to reveal the details of wherever she was—or the equipment.
“Commander Helkyria…I presume. You might grant me an image.”
Helkyria nodded to Duhyle, and he used the internal scanner to capture her.
“Much better.” A warm and broad smile appeared on Baeldura’s face. “You’ve been working hard, and more effectively than Scient-Marshal Thora imagined possible.”
Duhyle had to admit that the Aesyr leader was breathtakingly beautiful, if in the cool and cruel manner he’d observed in other powerful women, usually politicians.
“I find that difficult to believe,” replied Helkyria. “Thora has always had a broad and wide imagination. What did you have in mind, Baeldura, now that you’ve determined that the station is not so easily taken?”
The redhead nodded. “Not by force, it would appear. That may be for the best. It would be a pity to destroy what lies within. I am requesting that you surrender the station, for the good of all Earth.”
“The good of all Earth?” Helkyria repeated the phrase almost without inflection.
“You believe that survival outweighs principles. We believe principles outweigh survival. Therefore, the maximum good for all comes if you surrender. Everyone survives—or most everyone—and principles reign supreme.”
“Your principles, I believe.”
“Come…let’s not quibble, Commander. Will you surrender the canal and the station to us? Or will you watch as we destroy Vaena and the Vanir?” asked Baeldura.
“If you use those weapons, you’ll destroy yourselves as well in a very few years,” Helkyria pointed out.
“The universe will end, Helkyria. Better it end sooner in freedom than drag on eternally in the mind-numbing and subtle tyranny imposed by the Vanir.”
“I’m not even in charge of Security, Baeldura.”
“I won’t even quibble about that. I’ll give you twenty-four hours to consult with the Magistra of Security before you decide. If you don’t come out and surrender the station intact to us then…then the Hammers will begin to fall. As you may have seen, I have already withdrawn the Aesyr from around the station.” Baeldura’s image vanished.
For several moments, none of the three in the chamber spoke.
“What are these principles that she keeps mentioning?” asked Symra. “Why are they worth destroying everything for?”
“They started out as self-government for Midgard, but self-government meant government by the Aesyr with no vote for any Vanir living there,” Duhyle said. “Then, they wanted freedom of genetic choice. That translates, I think, into building bigger, stronger, and more intelligent Aesyr in order to maintain order, order being control over anyone lesser—”
“The issue of principles, per se, is secondary,” interrupted Helkyria.
“She has to be bluffing,” insisted Symra.
“Would you bet the universe on that? When the Aesyr have done exactly what they said they would do?” Helkyria looked at the subcaptain.
Symra looked down. “It’s not right…”
“I doubt the universe cares what is right,” replied Helkyria calmly.
Duhyle couldn’t help frowning for a moment. Was the universe that…random? Was whatever its organizing principle might be so biased against…? He shook his head. He couldn’t frame the vague concept that lurked just beyond his mental reach.
He checked the monitors. As Baeldura had promised, he could detect no Aesyr group anywhere within range of the station. “What do you have in mind?”
“Fragmenting time…or at least the station’s place in it. If we can.” She looked to Duhyle. “I have some ideas about more changes to your synchronizer. They shouldn’t take that long.” Her eyes went to Symra. “You can tell Captain Valakyr about the Aesyr ultimatum. Also tell her about the rather permanent alteration to the cliffs…and that we are attempting a way to avoid making that rather unpleasant choice. All the troopers need to
remain within the station. We will likely need them.”
Puzzlement crossed the subcaptain’s face. “Yes, ser.” She turned and headed down the ramp.
“What do you need me to do?” asked Duhyle.
“Everything.” Helkyria’s smile was both affectionate and wry. “Starting with a way to double the power the synchronizer can take. Knowing you, it’s overbuilt. I do hope it’s overbuilt…”
“Mostly, but that will be stretching it.”
“Then…stretch…”
Duhyle found himself smiling.
40
7 Tenmonth 1351, Unity of Caelaarn
By the time Maertyn and Maarlyna woke the next morning, snow was falling heavily enough that even the blue-gray stone of the canal walls was covered, not that such a covering would last, but with heavy snowfall and bitter cold, several days often passed before the snow fully cleared from the stone of the canal and station. After waking, Maertyn took his time, enjoying the moments spent with Maarlyna, both dressing and in eating breakfast.
As she finished sipping the hot cocoa she enjoyed so much, Maarlyna looked to her husband. “You’re worried about what is happening in Caelaarn, much more than usual. Can you tell me why?”
“All sorts of little things. Too many. Crop yields are down across the world. The re-settled are causing demonstrations. Food prices are up. Political maneuvering and accidental deaths among the well-connected in Caelaarn have increased…and I’ve told you about the attempts against me.”
“They’re trying to blackmail you with me, aren’t they?”
“Why would they do that?” he asked. “You haven’t done anything.”
“Except survive when I shouldn’t have.” Maarlyna smiled sadly. “How did you manage it, dearest?”
“You know that. I arranged for the best doctors and regeneration specialists possible.”
Maarlyna shook her head. “You did more than that. I know who and what I am, and I’ve read enough medical articles to know that there was only one way I could have survived.” Her eyes brightened, not quite enough for tears to appear. “You risked everything, didn’t you?”
Maertyn wanted to deny that, but denying it wouldn’t have been true, and yet agreeing was almost as false. “That was never the question. What else could I have done? I hadn’t given you enough of me, especially after…”
“After I lost all chance of having children?”
Maertyn’s eyes were burning, but he shook his head. “I hadn’t fully understood how much you meant to me, and I hadn’t shown it. Then…merely telling you would have been but words, and there are times when words are anything but enough.” He didn’t know what else he could say, except that he loved her, and those words would have seemed trite at the moment.
“Oh…Maertyn…”
The silence was broken by the whine of the wind as the south side door of the station opened. Svorak stepped into the main room, stamping his boots, and shaking snow off his jacket. “Sir, Lady…canal-runner just came. Didn’t think they would with the snow, but it’s not so heavy to the east. Two envelopes, one for each of you.”
Maertyn rose from his chair, walked toward Svorak, and took the letters. “I’m surprised as well. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sir. Best I be checking the light. Might be a ship or two needing it in the storm.” The light-keeper smiled, then touched the stone, and slipped back out into the snow.
Maertyn looked at one, then the other.
The first heavy envelope was addressed to Lord Maertyn S’Eidolon, in care of the station, and bore the extra delivery fees…and an address he did not recognize. The second he did recognize. “One for me, and one for you. Yours is from your cousin.”
“Lycinna?”
“The very same.”
“You open yours first,” said Maarlyna with a smile.
Maertyn just enjoyed her expression.
“Go ahead,” she prompted.
He walked back and handed her the one envelope, then broke the seal on the second, scanning the letterhead. He frowned as he finished the short missive. “It’s from Ashauer.”
“Might I see it, dear?”
“Of course.” Maertyn handed her the elegantly written missive and moved behind her chair, where he read it again, this time over her shoulder.
My dear Maertyn,
I learned from various sources that you took a rather circuitous route to return to your dear wife and your duties, just to arrive a few hours early. But then you’ve always been good at surprising people, yet leaving them discomfited and unharmed. Why should your journey back have been any different?
You may not have heard the sad news about Hlaansk. The fuel cell in his official sedan caught fire and the electrical malfunctions locked the doors. Of course, all government vehicles have now been inspected, but it is a pity that it wasn’t done earlier. Minister Hedelin had recommended more preventive maintenance for the Unity vehicle fleet months ago, but the Council had rejected the funding as frivolous, given the higher priorities outlined by Protective Services. There was some question over his successor, but after consulting with other concerned ministers, the EA appointed your superior, Josef, as acting Minister of Science. As acting minister, of course, he will continue as Assistant Minister for Research…
I forgot to tell you that Jaelora also sends her best and trust you will not have to venture far from the station with a cold northern winter coming in.
The elegant signature was that of Ashauer.
“Matters are getting much, much worse,” Maarlyna observed.
“There’s no need to talk of those more at the moment.” He smiled. “Read your letter.” Then he sat down and watched as she read, just enjoying watching her.
When she finished and looked up, he asked, “What did she have to say?”
She leaned forward and handed him the two sheets. “You can read it yourself?”
“Thank you.” He smiled and took the letter, noting that Lycinna’s script was similar to Maarlyna’s, not so surprisingly, since they’d both had the same tutor as children.
Dearest Maarlyna,
I’ve been so remiss in my correspondence, but with Elyna’s acceptance at Hytaan, and getting her off, and Neulan’s studies for admission to the University of Caelaarn’s School of Medicine, time has just slipped away. It’s so hard to believe that you’ve been buried in the frigid north for almost two years and that the summer evenings when we sat up and talked most of the night were so long ago. I don’t feel that much older, but I must be. I suppose we all are, but at times I do long for those carefree days.
All is well with us, although Daerix is having to spend more and more time at the factorums, something about the change in baseline ambient temperatures requiring more careful adjustments and more training for the technicians…
I must confess that I’ve never seen so many Protective Services trainees as seem to have come into Oxara in the past few months, although we only see them when we leave the estate, and only on weekends, at that. Daerix’s workers have told him that at times their houses shake because of all the explosions out at the training center…
These days we don’t get to Caelaarn often, and I suppose that is for the best because I’d want to stop and see you, and you wouldn’t be there. Is it as cold as everyone says up on the great canal? Please write and tell me all about it.
Maertyn handed the letter back to his wife. “She wants you to write back.”
“She’s lonely,” said Maarlyna. “She’s always had the children, and now they’re leaving. Daerix has his work, and the estate doesn’t require that much supervision.” She paused. “I don’t care much for the idea that the Unity is training more and more Protective Service troopers.”
“Agents…” Maertyn said dryly.
“Troopers.” She shook her head. “Are you going to work today?”
“No. I’m spending the day with you. We could even play in the snow.”
Her smile warmed him all the wa
y through.
41
34 Quad 2471 R.E.
Surprisingly, Eltyn slept decently. He couldn’t help wishing he’d been sleeping closer to Faelyna, rather than on the narrow pallet in the corner of his own workroom. He woke early, at the first sign of diffused light coming through the stone “windows” on twoday. A quick check of the system and the outside monitors showed no one and no vessels nearby. He washed and dressed quickly, only to find Faelyna waiting for him by the ramp down to the lower level.
“I couldn’t sleep any longer,” he said. “I keep wondering what The Twenty will do now.”
“I couldn’t sleep longer either.” She looked at him directly for a moment. “I’m glad you’re here.” Then her eyes dropped. We need to do something. We can’t just stay trapped inside the station.
Options? he pulsed.
Such as?
?????
Exactly. Nothing else gets us beyond the first command levels…except freezing the system. Not good now.
Eltyn had to agree with that. Exactly. Still…someone told me, Eat first. Think later.
Faelyna did smile as they walked down to the lower level.
Rhyana was waiting. “Thought you two might be up early.”
“Don’t you ever sleep?” asked Eltyn.
“Not late. Delivery schedules are—were—always out early.” She pointed to the table. “Sit. Eggs…what passes for ’em…are almost ready. Pastries…sort of, too.”
“Thank you.” Both Eltyn and Faelyna spoke almost simultaneously.
“No need for thanks. You both are doing what you can. Least I can do is feed you. Without you two, I’d not be thinking…or not much except what the riffies wanted.”
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