“Where has it gone?” Icsain said. “I still sense it, but I cannot explain where it is.”
“That’s how it works,” Abanastar said.
“Mefis Abanastar,” the Emperor said, “you will boost the signal to ensure retrieval. Nothing can be left to chance.”
“Yes, Lord Emperor.” Abanastar, his face covered with the opaque Focusing Lens, bowed his head. A series of spectral lenses appeared in the small space between Icsain and the Emperor. “Ready for retrieval.”
There was a flash through the arrangement of floating lenses that lit Icsain white for an instant and then he was gone.
“Return immediately,” the Emperor said, and his image blinked out.
“Mefis Abanastar, ready for retrieval,” Abanstar said.
Others sounded off as well, and each time they did, a lighting bolt fell from the sky and seemed to obliterate them.
As Vays lit out, Jav looked at Raus and then at Kalkin, and said, “Well, that was easy enough.”
Kalkin shrugged. “I just hope it doesn’t get too crowded with two gods now. Lor Kalkin, ready for retrieval.”
“Raus Kapler, ready for retrieval.”
“Jav Holson, ready for retrieval.”
• • •
Witchlan was waiting for them at the Tether Launch station. With him were Tia Winn and Brin Karvasti. Once the last of the Shades had returned from Zahl, he escorted everyone to the Emperor’s chamber. Blue Squad was given the option to attend or go, and Bela Fan, as their former leader, decided on attendance.
All the Shades bowed down. Icsain, kneeling, was at the head of them, closest to the Emperor.
“Icsain,” the Emperor said. “We seek The Place with Many Doors. Do you know of it?”
Icsain shook his smooth head vaguely, and the Emperor barked out something like a laugh.
“In the dim, unfathomable boundaries between dreams and consciousness, I believe all those of our kind strive to know The Place with Many Doors. No matter. That is our destination. Your service will at times require much of you. Some of us will not survive the journey. As I have raised up these exceptional men and women to be more than they were, so I will raise you.”
A fleshy, olive vine, issuing forth from behind the Emperor, snaked through the air and bore with it a glass-faced metal cylinder, forty-five centimeters long and nine centimeters in diameter. Their curiosity piqued, several Shades could not help glancing at the item proffered to Icsain. Some of them gasped audibly.
Lor Kalkin stared, nearly shaking with disbelief. Tia Winn saw the contents of the cylinder, saw the effect it was having on Kalkin, and sighed inwardly, wishing she could do something.
“Yes, Lor Kalkin. It is what you think it is. It is Karlan Farsal’s Artifact, recovered from him in his failing moments. It was damaged but salvageable and has been recovering all this time. Under more propitious circumstances, there would be new Artifacts for Icsain and for our proposed Competition. Under more propitious circumstances, there would be no need for Karlan Farsal’s Artifact. Under more propitious circumstances we wouldn’t have had to mourn so many in so short a time. More propitious circumstances do lie ahead for us, but where are here now and must make due.
“Icsain, take the Relic Cords from the cylinder and become one with them. Accept them into your being and have a taste of what that butcher stole from you so long ago.”
Icsain did as told. He twisted the ends of the container and removed the Relic Cords, which looked like a translucent squid. In his hands, the myriad tentacles began to writhe with unnatural life. He hugged the squirming thing close to himself, and with a bright flash, they disappeared within him.
Jav had thought nothing of any of this until Icsain released the Relic Cords. When he saw the thing with its appendages flailing blindly, seeking. . . seeking contact, Jav bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. A strange wave of vertigo threatened to topple him, arguing with his senses that down was up and left was right. He’d seen the Relic Cords before, hadn’t he? In a dream perhaps? Hadn’t he ripped them bloodily from the back of their host with his bare hands? No, of course not. He’d done no such thing. How could he have? But he was filled with anxiety and felt as though he were surrounded by people who wanted to kill him. He looked about furtively, saw that Kalkin was staring at him concernedly, swallowed back a choking sensation, and remembered where he was. What was wrong with him? First on Sarsa and now here. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the moment, still consumed with an inexplicable sense of loathing for the Relic Cords.
“The Relic Cords,” the Emperor was saying, “will enable you to touch minds, to control them or to control nerves directly. The nature of your own mind will give you a capacity for control far greater than Karlan Farsal’s. Your inherent durability has also been increased.
“With regard to title and position, we will address that when we can take some time to reorganize. I fear there will be little to take from this system. The destruction of the sun will likely rob us of the opportunity to acquire much in the way of resources, but it cannot be helped.
“Tomorrow, plans regarding the sun will be discussed.
“That is all. You are dismissed. All but you, Icsain. I bid you stay.”
“Yes, Lord Emperor,” Icsain said.
• • •
Tia traced a finger lightly down the side of Kalkin’s face and across his bare chest. “Does it bother you so much?” she said.
Kalkin cocked his head, unable to articulate a response. He was annoyed not by her question, but by what the reemergence of the Relic Cords might mean. Finally, he said, turning towards her on the bed, “Did you know that Artifacts could be. . . harvested?”
She shrugged and her heavy, uncovered breasts responded to the motion distractingly. Kalkin reached across and placed a hand upon her left breast. She held his hand there and stared at him thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I mean I thought they were inextricably connected to the host, but maybe there are conditions. . .”
Kalkin shook his head. “It makes me a terrible person, but it’s not the raw deal Farsal got that bothers me. Did you see Jav’s reaction to the Relic Cords?”
She nodded almost grudgingly, not really wanting to acknowledge that she had or that she understood the implications.
“I guess I’m selfish. And lazy. I like things the way they are now, and I don’t want something, even if it is the truth, to change Jav.”
“Do you think he remembers?” she said.
“I don’t know. He felt something, though. He didn’t say anything afterwards and I’m not sure I want to ask him about it.”
She nodded again, this time unconsciously. Still pressing his hand to her breast, she turned over and straddled him, the sheet sliding all the way off her. She looked down at him, making his fingers knead and pinch her creamy white skin.
“You are exactly what I need,” he said.
She bent to kiss him with soft lips, raised her hips slightly, and adjusted herself down upon him. He gripped her buttocks and pulled her tighter, making her gasp. She ground down on him, and he sat up, still inside her, to nuzzle her breasts.
“I am,” she said breathlessly as she settled into a rhythm. “I will make you forget what troubles you tonight and any other night.
“I love you, Lor Kalkin.”
10,690.097
“It is an ambitious project,” Witchlan said from the head of the war room, “but one which may allow us to recoup some of our losses earlier than expected.
“Mr. Barson, as we have already mentioned, you will have an integral role. With the aid of Mr. Abanastar’s Focusing Lens, Mr. Barson you will convert the mass of the planet we are currently using as a shield to generate a singularity, this time one closer to the real thing than any you have yet produced in your three hundred and sixty-nine years. As your power allows you certain control over gravities you’ve created, this singularity will absorb the blast resulting from the detonated sun. The singularity will also attract planet
ary debris scattered by the explosion.
“Once the danger is past and Mr. Barson relaxes his influence, there will be some expansion and the new mass will stabilize. We may enlist the aid of Miss Fan, again in conjunction with Mr. Abanastar, to help regulate temperatures and expedite this process. We will then need to send out new blind runners. This time, though, we expect to see some gain.
“Fortune has smiled upon us. Icsain has joined us with no expenditure of resources. He hasn’t even been here a whole day yet and he has already superseded the Astrophysics Division, calculating several models of the sun’s blast pattern. He is a wonder with data extrapolation. Because of this good fortune, we are ahead of schedule. At 2400 on 10,690.100 the destabilizing device will be launched into the sun. We estimate eight hours until detonation, but will initiate mass conversion for the singularity at 0400 on 10,690.101.
“Mr. Barson and Mr. Abanastar, in the intervening span of days, you will be meeting constantly with the Astrophysics Division. Gilf Scanlan will be operating in a support capacity. He has engineered some methods to help supplement our efforts so that you are not exhausted prematurely.”
10,690.101
Jav stood at the window with Mao in his arms. Others crowded all around and behind. This port, and countless others throughout the Palace, had been set up for those who wanted to watch the sun explode. Immediately before them, blocking any direct view of the sun and its imminent end, was the black mass that would serve as their shield. Special filtering screens around the Vine would further protect them from stray radiation and from simply being blinded.
Without a sound, a great corona spread out around the intense black circle, like the petals of a flower unfolding to welcome the light of the sun, but this was the sun and it was dying. The Palace shook suddenly, violently, and for what seemed a long time to some. Mao tightened her grip on Jav who reciprocated. The shaking subsided, and all watched in fascination as the ranging corona light began to drift back slowly, drawn into the trap powered by Wheeler Barson and Mefis Abanastar, turning subtly, almost imperceptibly, like a kaleidoscope designed by a god, which is exactly what it was.
• • •
After a week, Barson released his influence, but Abanastar still had work to do, assisting Bela Fan in cooling the mass to stabilize it. Without Barson significantly augmenting the body’s gravity, there was substantial expansion, of course, but the cooling efforts were successful, mostly due to Icsain’s seemingly endless calculations, each of which addressing even the minutest changes in variables.
After two weeks, the Astrophysics Division declared that conditions were safe and a blind runner was sent out to the new planet, Planet 1404, now far more massive than before, being made up of all the recoverable mass from the ruined system.
Initial feedback from the blind runner was extremely favorable. They would have enough resources to reengage the Stitch Drive and begin production on a single Gran while in transit. Group consensus determined that a third incarnation of Gran Kwes was the best choice, and production began immediately. Completion was scheduled to coincide with the next planetfall in just over a year. Once the New Root Palace was complete and jump relays could be installed, the Empire would hold an Artifact Competition. Word was sent out for teachers to ready their students or for teachers themselves to make preparations for their own participation in the contest scheduled tentatively to take place a year and half hence.
15. MOVING THROUGH TIME
10,690.156
Jav sat quietly in the war room near the exit, waiting for Raus. The morning briefing had finished, and everyone else had gone, but Witchlan had an update on Raus’s brother. When finished, Raus collected Jav and the two made for the jump deck. They stepped off the platform, out of deck alcove and were both a bit surprised to see Icsain. He was leaning up against the wall with his arms folded, looking, Jav thought, very human. It was hard to tell if the pose was natural behavior learned and adopted or just an affectation. Jav was starting to realize that, with Icsain, it was almost always the latter with the intent of coming off as the former. The wooden man took a great deal of pride in his many abilities.
Jav and Raus shared a look. Neither liked Icsain much. He made Jav uncomfortable for reasons Jav did not fully understand. Raus resented the speed with with which Icsain was able to integrate into the ways of the Empire, something he was still struggling to do himself. Both were a little put off by the favor he seemed to receive from the Emperor, though they understood why such favor was perhaps warranted.
“Specialist Holson,” Icsain said. “Jav Holson.” He enunciated Jav’s name carefully, inserting a quality of doubt and suspicion.
“Uh, yes?” Jav said.
Icsain stood straight. His folded arms dropped to his sides, and he stepped in such a way as to nearly block the two from proceeding further down the corridor.
There was something unmistakably menacing about his aspect. It was like the prelude to an altercation.
Jav stared at the grain lines of Icsain’s smooth and otherwise featureless face. They were in motion and should have been inscrutable, but were somehow expressive. Now, as was often the case, they gave off a sense of superiority, of knowing.
Jav understood why Raus didn’t like Icsain. Icsain did know. He’d absorbed the entire history of the Viscain Empire, could relate details of any single event or grand movement with the precision and thoroughness of a computer. But what was really frightening, as Kalkin had made clear, was that Icsain did not, in general, do this.
Kalkin had visibly shuddered when posing the question of whether Icsain knew the public history of the Empire or the complete history of the Empire. Surely there were things known only the Emperor. But might he not share those things with his kin? For one to walk among them with that knowledge, always keeping his own counsel, seemed a little terrible. Kalkin had tried to dismiss this as useless paranoia, but the idea had stuck.
And now Jav was experiencing an example firsthand.
“You suffer from memory loss,” Icsain said. There was a long pause before he added, “Still.”
Silence hung in the corridor. Raus looked from from Jav to Icsain, his face screwing up, pinched and sour.
“I wonder when you and I will be able to discuss your birth as a Shade, Jav Holson.” Icsain leaned forward a little, brought his blocky wooden fingers to where one of his temples might be. “You are inside here, you know. It’s all inside here.”
Jav narrowed his eyes, started to shake his head. He didn’t know how to respond, but dull anger, stemming from his basic dislike of Icsain, mingled with bewilderment. “How nice for you?” It came out stilted and as a question, but Jav wasn’t interested in any answer.
“We’re going to walk by now,” Jav said. “If there isn’t enough room in the corridor and I bump you, you have my apologies.” Jav was already moving, but Icsain turned and gestured graciously for them to continue. Jav made no visible show, but he was secretly grateful that he hadn’t had to touch Icsain. The idea of making contact with the Relic Cords, even indirectly through their host, made Jav sick to his stomach.
“I hate that guy,” Raus said once they were out of earshot.
“You and me both. What did Witchlan say about Ban?”
“He said that they’ve isolated the problem and that they can begin working on a treatment,” Raus said then took a deep breath.
“That’s great.” When Raus didn’t immediately reply in the affirmative, Jav asked, “Isn’t it?”
“It is. It is. He also said that it may take years to effect the cure.”
“Oh.”
Raus nodded. “They need to develop a protein that will combine with his DNA to weed out the anomaly and repair the resulting gap. Developing such a protein will take millions of attempts by trial and error.”
“How many years?”
“Hundreds, probably.”
Jav reached up and gripped Raus’s shoulder. “But they’ll do it, Raus. And you’ll be around for when th
ey do.”
Raus smiled a little. “Thanks, Jav.”
• • •
Pain, sudden and explosive, erupted from his back, spreading like wet fire, and the wind rushed out of him. Alternating motes of black and brilliance danced before his eyes. He tried to sit up, but his left arm buckled beneath him, white bone jutting from his forearm. He looked up at the building that towered over him, the sun shining off the myriad windows, which flashed like. . . like the facets on an everyman’s gem. This gem was flawed, though. One of the facets, fourteen stories up, had been knocked out when he had fallen through it. He knew that his arm hadn’t broken as a result of the fall, but couldn’t remember what was responsible.
He stood, still staring at the black rectangle on the fourteenth floor, and wrapped the fingers of his right hand around his left forearm. Blue light rose in tendrils from his body, causing his charcoal slacks and tattered white dress shirt to billow and whip as if in a stiff wind. The light was concentrated at his gripping fingers and hid the details of the miracle taking place there. Though the bone didn’t exactly retreat back through the exit wound, the pressure of his fingers pressed it back into proper alignment, set it, and fused it in an instant. The skin was now unbroken, but the blood and mess upon his shirt remained.
He released his grip and bent his left arm back and forth to test it out. Good as new.
The sidewalk was filled with gawkers, most dressed in business suits, some in more casual and exceedingly colorful clothing, but none stopped, not before to investigate his fall, not now to scrutinize his unlikely rise. The pedestrians stared, in horror or wonder or annoyance or awe, but flowed around him without cease, like water around a stone in a stream.
The Blood Solution (Approaching Infinity Book 3) Page 22