Cadmian's Choice

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Views of the Highest

  Illustra

  W.T. 1513

  7

  Undercaptain Veluara knocked on the door to the senior officers’ quarters precisely half a glass after Alcyna had departed. As he rose from the chair, Dainyl supposed that there was some significance to the timing, and that he might find it in due course. Then again, given Alcyna’s reputation, he might not. He just intended to discover what he could about what was happening in Alustre and the east, then return to Elcien, and report what he had discovered to the marshal. He had few doubts that discovering would be easier than returning, since Alcyna was the type who would want him to know how clever she was before arranging some fatal accident or incident.

  Just before he opened the door, he paused. Alcyna might be far smarter than that, but, however she handled it, he doubted that he would have to worry as much on the first day or so. Too early an “accident” would have the marshal and High Alector Zelyert both after her.

  Undercaptain Veluara stood tall, nearly as large and as muscular as Dainyl. She wore a flight jacket over her uniform, unfastened, and her eyes were a blackish brown, a color unusual for an alector. She also seemed to be older than the usual undercaptain, although that was not something Dainyl intended to ask or suggest. “Submarshal, sir? Submarshal Alcyna asked me to be your escort for an informal tour.”

  Dainyl nodded, stepping out onto the balcony and closing the quarters door behind him. “It’s kind of you, and I appreciate it.”

  “Where would you like to begin, sir?”

  “With a tour of headquarters here. I am certain everything is in order and as it should be, and I would like to report that to the marshal. I leave the order of inspection to you, Undercaptain.”

  “I would suggest we begin with the outbuildings, sir. Perhaps the pteridon squares?”

  “That would be fine.”

  Dainyl followed the tall undercaptain down the steps and south across the courtyard of the headquarters compound. Despite her size, her movements were practiced and graceful.

  The pteridon squares were identical to those in Elcien, each thirty yards on a side with a massive perch across the roof. The perch was oriented to face the rising sun. Even with only twenty-one pteridons in a company, the space required for each company was considerable.

  As he walked down the open area that split the squares of the two companies, past the duty square, Dainyl glanced at the nearest pteridons, those of Fourth Company, presumably third squad, taking in the afternoon sunlight. Their blue crystal eyes held a darkness that had no color, and their long blue crystalline beaks were hard enough to shatter iron. Each blue leathery wing, even folded back against a pteridon’s body, was more than ten yards long. The comparatively short legs ended in three crystal claws—two opposed by one, so that a pteridon could perch anywhere or grasp whatever it wanted, given that the claws were as hard as the beak.

  “You’re a squad leader in Fourth Company. Third squad, as I recall.”

  “Yes, sir.” There was the faintest tone of surprise in her voice, as well as hidden amusement.

  “How have you liked serving under Captain Josaryk? You were in Third Company before, weren’t you?”

  “Captain Josaryk and Majer Noryan are good officers, sir.”

  “Were you on any of the patrols where the pteridons were lost this past winter?”

  Undercaptain Veluara did not reply for the briefest of moments. “That depends on what you mean, sir. We did some of the overflight patrols, but three of the four losses in the west were from Third Company after I left.”

  “I don’t suppose you saw what happened?”

  “No, sir.”

  About that, the undercaptain was telling the truth.

  “Have you ever seen one of the ancient ones?”

  “Sir? Has anyone? Have you?”

  “Since they once inhabited the higher and colder areas, and there are more of those here in the east,” replied Dainyl, not answering her question in a fashion similar to the way she had avoided his, “I had thought it might be more likely that you or others in Third and Fourth Company might have seen them.”

  “I know Major Noryan did, but he said he wasn’t able to talk about it. He sent a sealed dispatch to Lyterna, though.”

  Dainyl did not comment, although he had never seen the report.

  At the end of the pteridon squares, the undercaptain turned west. “The armory is on the lower level in the corner here.”

  “About the ancients,” Dainyl prompted.

  “Only from a distance, just once, west of Scien, when we were looking for the missing Cadmian company. That was when third squad was relieving second squad. It was just a green globe of light. I could barely make it out, and then it was gone.”

  From what he could tell through his Talent, Dainyl was fairly certain that she was telling what she had seen—mostly. “The old reports say that they could hover. Could you tell?”

  “It looked that way.”

  “Has anyone found any sign of the Cadmians yet?”

  “No, sir. Major Noryan thinks they were caught in a sudden early blizzard. Those can get fierce that far north. If that’s what happened, we might find them when all the ice melts. The North Road won’t be clear until early summer this year.”

  “Even though it’s eternastone?”

  “Yes, sir. That’s one reason why the submarshal decided to close the posts at Scien. The town is mostly deserted anyway, except for the fishing crews in the summer, and a handful of indigens who like ice and cold.”

  “What about Pystra?”

  “It’s not much better, but it’s east of the Frozen Headland, and the harbor’s clear of ice most winters.”

  “Besides the problem in Coren, have you had much trouble with indigen intransigence?”

  “There’s always someone who tries to get around the Code, thinking that he can get a few more golds, but we do a lot of overflights, looking for patterns that would show life-form abuse or misuse.” She paused. “What really happened in Dramur? I don’t mean to pry, sir, but the reports we got seemed so strange.”

  In short, Alcyna wanted to see what Dainyl would reveal to an attractive and attentive undercaptain. “What happened there wasn’t life-form abuse, or anything else that could be seen from the air. Some of the local landowners spent years amassing enough golds to bribe an engineer in the rifle manufactory. They were trying to take control of Dramur while still appearing to follow all the provisions of the Code.” That was truthful enough, so far as it went. “Dramur is far enough away from any Myrmidon post that what they were doing went undetected for a time. The marshal discovered some aspects of the plan and sent for me. It took two seasons to resolve, and it won’t happen again.”

  Veluara nodded. “You want to see the armory?”

  “Every bit of it.” Dainyl laughed. “Otherwise, how could I explain to the marshal?”

  His words got the faintest smile from the undercaptain.

  “You have not been in Alustre in recent years, have you?” asked Veluara.

  “No. Not since I was a captain,” replied Dainyl. “At that time, Submarshal Alcyna was a senior majer.”

  “You both have come far since then.”

  “It has been a while.” Dainyl wasn’t about to get into a discussion of how either he or Alcyna became submarshals, not with an undercaptain, and especially not with one as sharp and experienced as Veluara. He realized that he had best be more careful with his comments. “How did you choose the Myrmidons?”

  “What other choice was there? I wasn’t that interested in engineering, and I like being outside. What about you, sir?”

  “After the armory,” Dainyl said with a laugh.

  “Yes, sir.” Veluara smiled openly, leading the way toward the wide archway. The left door of the double doors was ajar. “Technical Squad Leader Vresnyl is in charge of the armory,” she added in a low voice before she pulled the door open.

  Inside was a small stone wall
ed and floored foyer, with a stone counter, waist-high, in the middle of the rear wall. By the time they reached the counter, a broad-shouldered and short alector stood at the counter, waiting. Behind him was a small chamber with little besides a row of tall cabinets against the wall, all closed.

  “Tech Leader Vresnyl, Submarshal, sir.”

  “I’m pleased to see you, Vresnyl. Weren’t you in Lysia before?”

  “Yes, sir.” The armorer smiled. “Been here just over a year.”

  “How are you finding Alustre?”

  “It’s cooler, and that’s better in the summer, and worse in the winter. Armory’s a little bigger. Otherwise there’s not that much different.”

  “Have you had any problems with skylances?” Dainyl asked.

  “Like they did in Dereka, sir? No, sir. Every single one’s accounted for. With proper maintenance, they’ll last almost forever. We follow the rotation schedule and send them to Lyterna for inspection every three years. We’ve never had one fail, though. Haven’t lost any, either.”

  “What about sidearms?” Dainyl smiled broadly as he asked, since he doubted there were more than five anywhere in the east, reserved as they were for nonflying senior officers.

  “You need one, sir? If it’s not working right, that’d be the first one in more than a century.”

  “No.” Dainyl grinned. “I had to ask, though.” He paused. “Would you show me through the workroom and repair spaces?”

  “Yes, sir. I’d be pleased to.” Vresnyl gestured to the cabinets. “Those hold the training lances, and not much else.” He turned and moved toward the door on the south end of the small chamber.

  Dainyl made his way around the counter and followed, with Veluara behind him.

  Vresnyl stopped just inside the next small room. “Here’s the crystal testing equipment for the skylances and the sidearms, and the collector that puts a basic charge in a replacement crystal. Only had to do that once or twice this past year. Sometimes happens when they’ve been flying in winter weather, high clouds and not much sun.”

  “Where do you keep the replacement crystals?” Dainyl knew where they were supposed to be.

  “Those…there aren’t that many, you know, sir. Those are kept in the usual place, in the vault and lockbox in the watch pteridon’s square. After the business in Dereka, the submarshal moved all the skylances there as well. Had another pair of lockers built, one for each company. That’s when the flyers are here. On deployment, the lances stay with the pteridons, like always.”

  Dainyl nodded and turned to Veluara. “Are they doing that for the companies in Dulka and Lysia?”

  “That’s what I understood, sir.”

  The precaution made sense, but it also concentrated the control of the fearsome weapons, and that left Dainyl uneasy, even though they were supposedly useless except when used in conjunction with a pteridon. He looked to the armorer. “Let’s see what else you have.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  After that came the storeroom for gear—pteridon saddles, skylance holders, special winter flying parkas, all items that wore out more quickly than pteridons and skylances. Below the main storeroom was the storeroom for specialized equipment used less frequently, such as emergency crystal beacons, or the crimson armbands worn by Myrmidons for the administration of justice, the lash and mace of justice, special solutions, and the cross-form to which malefactors were fastened.

  After he closed the lower storeroom, Vresnyl turned to Dainyl. “That’s what we have for the Myrmidon equipment, sir.”

  “How much blasting powder and other explosives do you have down below for the High Alector of Transport?”

  “Well…sir, not so much as they’ve got in Dereka or the west. There’s not so much of a call for it here. It’s on the lowest level.”

  “I think we can skip that, but, if you’d show me the road-cutting equipment…that should wind up what I need to see.”

  “That’s all in the lowest vault. You’ll have to unlock the Talent-locks, sir.”

  Quietly, the three walked to the end of the corridor and then down the wide ramp that descended in a half circle.

  After walking another fifty yards, Vresnyl stopped at a solid steel gate, infused and strengthened with lifeforce. He unlocked the gate and swung it open on heavy wide hinges attached to plates fused to the stone walls. A foyer of sorts—two yards deep and three wide—fronted a second door, not quite the width of the foyer itself.

  The armorer looked to Dainyl.

  The submarshal stepped forward and let his Talent-senses range over the octagonal lock plate. After a moment of study, he found the lock node and released it. “It’s released.”

  Vresnyl looked at the lock, nervously, then inserted a green-tinged key, turning it. There was barely a click as the solid steel door slid to the left, recessing into the stone.

  The chamber beyond was not that large, no more than fifteen yards wide and ten deep, and lit by only a handful of light-torches, spaced along the side walls above the ten lockers on each side. The road-cutting equipment consisted of three identical four-wheeled wagons, each perhaps two yards wide and three long, spaced side by side in the bay. Each was clearly designed to be drawn by a sandox, although the wagon tongue had been unbolted and was set beside the heavy wheels. The rear of the wagon was filled with crystals in matrices linked together so that the power drawn from the crystals and the lifeforce of the world could be concentrated and focused through a crystalline discharge formulator that looked like a larger version of the end of a skylance, except for the tip, which was shaped into an arc of sixty degrees. The three wagons were the only equipment visible.

  For several moments, Dainyl studied the nearest wagon, with both eyes and Talent, gleaning what he could.

  Vresnyl shifted his weight from one booted foot to the other. Veluara was silent.

  “Where are the operator suits?” asked Dainyl after a time. Because the road-cutting equipment drew lifeforce randomly, any engineer operating the equipment needed to wear the protective coveralls that contained and maintained his own lifeforce.

  “In the lockers there, sir.”

  Dainyl walked to the nearest wall locker and opened it. Within was a single coverall, shimmering a dull gray. He closed the locker door, then turned. “We can go now.”

  Once Vresnyl re-locked the inner door, Dainyl concentrated and replaced the Talent-lock. Then the three stepped out into the lower corridor.

  The armorer locked the outer door and looked up, in relief. “I can’t say as I like going in there, sir. If they were powered up, those would suck a man dry in moments, except maybe for the Duarches.”

  “I understand, but the marshal was rather insistent.” On what, Dainyl did not say, because he couldn’t, since Shastylt had merely conveyed the desire that his subordinate discover all that he could.

  “We all have our duties,” replied Vresnyl uneasily.

  “So we do.”

  Dainyl and Veluara followed the armorer back up to the main level of the armory.

  There, Dainyl turned to Vresnyl. “Thank you. I appreciate your care and diligence, and so does the marshal.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Neither Dainyl nor Veluara said a word until they were back in the open air of the compound courtyard.

  “I’ve never seen the road-cutting equipment before,” offered Veluara.

  Neither had Dainyl, although he had read of it, and he had hoped that seeing it would provide some insight…into something. He felt it had, although uncharged and inert as the equipment had been, he wasn’t certain yet what understanding he might have gained. “It is impressive, and foreboding.”

  “I don’t think I’d want to operate it.”

  “I doubt there would be any need—not unless we get an earthquake or avalanche that blocks one of the high roads through the Spine of Corus.”

  “The wagons aren’t very big for what they can do.”

  “Neither is a skylance,” replied Dainyl dryly. />
  “There is that, sir.”

  “What’s next?”

  “The carpentry and maintenance shops are just ahead….”

  Dainyl nodded. It would be a long, but necessary, afternoon.

  It was indeed. By the time he had walked through every building in the headquarters compound, Dainyl’s leg was definitely aching, and reminding him that it had been shattered not that many weeks before. As he had suspected even before he had left his temporary quarters, everything he had seen was spotless, all the equipment was present and accounted for, and the Myrmidons he met were invariably friendly. On the technical and operational side, the eastern regions of the Myrmidons appeared well run.

  When Veluara escorted him back to the quarters, the sun was hanging just above the rolling hills on the far side of Alustre and the river.

  “Sir…Submarshal Alcyna wanted you to know that the private dining room in the mess area has been reserved for you. She regrets that she cannot join you tonight, but she has cleared her schedule for all the other evenings you will be here in Alustre.”

  “Thank you. I need to think for a while, but I appreciate the submarshal’s concerns…and your guiding me through the compound.” Dainyl wasn’t certain that he wanted to be isolated in a private dining room, but he could also understand Alcyna’s motives. Dainyl wouldn’t have wanted her wandering through the mess in Elcien with his junior officers—if for very different reasons, he suspected.

  After he closed the quarters door behind him, he sank into one of the armchairs.

  8

  Quattri morning dawned cloudy and misting, and Dainyl slept later than he would have wished ideally. He had not slept well, awakening several times, although his Talent-alarm had not been the reason. He had to hurry through washing up, dressing, and breakfast in the private dining area in order to make it to headquarters to get in his report reading before he was to depart on his late-morning tour of the eastern residence. All in all, he spent two glasses in Majer Noryan’s study reading through the daily logs and reports of Third Company, all written in the majer’s meticulous hand. According to the operations schedule, Noryan and two squads of Third Company were in Norda.