Sabian smiled. “I did. Are you after nuggets of information?”
“I am.”
Sabian inclined his head. “I am happy to share.”
“After we eat,” Saska said. “Declan is hungry, can’t you hear his stomach?”
Everyone laughed, and Caballa hooked her arm through Declan’s and drew him back into the herb garden. Saska grinned and passed them on the way to the kitchen.
“I ASSUME THIS IS no idle visit?” Caballa asked, taking him further from listening ears.
“Lowen is missing, a time shift, and a confrontation brews out there. I need your help.”
“Agnimus,” she murmured.
“How did you know?”
“I saw you come and saw what you were after.”
“You are good.”
She smiled. “I know. We will talk later, all right?”
“I have only a week to find him, Caballa.”
“But you need to eat, so we eat and then we talk, and then you can collar the sexy Sabian.”
“Sexy?” Declan grimaced.
“Very. We all have our sights set on him.” She laughed at the disbelief in his eyes. “We are isolated, not dead, and he is harmless.”
“Yes, well …” and Declan allowed himself to be pulled towards the kitchen.
Chapter 11
Nothing exists in a vacuum. What this statement means has little to do with the likelihood of life in an airless space. It means all is connected, that function results from mutual reliance.
~ Book of Sages
Luvanor
AS TORRULLIN DESCENDED into the bowels of Grinwallin’s inner city, Shenendo put in an appearance at the Academia of Truth on Atrin continent.
He was charged with finding information on the Luvans of Grinwallin, the ancient race before the Senlu, and judged the Academia a prime place to commence his search.
Shenendo was to be disappointed. He managed to speak to the resident archives master, but the Brother informed him the tales in their possession went back no further than the time of the Nine. That was too recent, for the Nine came to Luvanor when the Senlu had already vanished into abeyance.
“What do you know of the Luvans?” Shenendo asked of Brother Tas.
“For Luvan tales you should have a word with Emperor Teighlar.”
“I get the distinct feeling he will not talk.”
“Then you’re buggered,” Brother Tas shrugged.
“Yes.” Shenendo rose, thanked the Brother and left.
He went next to Titania.
Titania
TITANIA WAS A VAST planet.
It possessed eight continents, five moons and rotated within rings of stellar dust.
It was a strange place by any standard. Mountains were spongy on Titania and marshland moved with the moons’ influences. The sky was rosy during daylight and yellow at night. Trees grew above the ground and there were no flowers or shrubs. Mosses, mushrooms, algae and various spores were the featured plant and animal life. Water was drinkable, but tasted brackish and earthy, and was emerald in colour. The air was breathable, but tasted of metal and cloyed to the skin, akin to humidity. It was generally cold.
Titania was immeasurably wealthy in two things, which was why Titania would never be ignored.
One was the vast resource of minerals and the other was an even greater store of knowledge. Titania did, in fact, possess the largest library in the universe and it contained everything from pictograms scratched on pieces of bark to the most advanced technological devices. Titania claimed to have a copy of everything ever written, over all time.
Shenendo was cowed by the massive entrance doors. He noted how they opened and closed soundlessly, as if by magic, and yet knew it was technological. He hailed from a backwater world and had in his life little to do with things on such scale, and not even his recent years with the Kaval altered his expectations. Shenendo, of the Nipponese races, would be changed forever after this foray into vastness.
Knowing how it would be viewed if he failed in his mission, he gathered his wits and courage and approached the massive doors. Nobody questioned his right to be there and he found it disconcerting. If he were in charge of this vast store of knowledge, he would guard it with everything at his disposal. He knew Titania had an open door policy, but could envision the damage caused by an act of terrorism. It should be well guarded, a place such as this.
What he did not know was that it was guarded and monitored every moment of every hour, but by sensors so advanced not even the universe’ most ingenious thief could penetrate, and it also possessed a database so huge it could match every face of every entrant to records already in place.
Shenendo was matched as Kaval, vetted as safe, and was allowed to pass through the doors unmolested. Titania had a force of crack troops to hand, and had he failed the matching, he would now be in custody.
The doors slid closed behind him and he was in a modern lobby. Information desks were staffed by bright, friendly men and women, and lines of people snaked before each.
Beyond lay another set of double glass doors and through the transparency he saw walls of books, shelves of computer screens, aisles and corridors the length of streets and tiny, manned cars buzzed up and down the ‘streets’, the distances too great to negotiate by foot.
Shenendo’s mouth fell open. There had to be zillions of books and he meant it literally. No wonder, then, the snaking lines, for one required help to find anything in this vastness.
His mouth snapped closed and he joined the line that seemed shortest, and found the well of patience to endure what could prove a long wait.
Ymir
CHAIM WAS A JEW.
Like to the humans who held on to a belief system that claimed Jesus Christ as Saviour, the Jews of Earth took their monotheism into the wider universe and believed as they had ages ago.
He was a small man, a spiritual leader, a wise man, and compassionate and understanding of human failing, including his own. White-haired, bent and wrinkled, he became immortal late in mortal life. The strength of his spirit aided him well in the change and he chose the path of longevity purely because he felt he did not know all truths. Others followed his ways - gone now - but had not seen as he did that it was impossible for all truths to be revealed.
Truth was subjective, and it was a populated universe.
The only truth he suffered over was the ability to travel space.
Worlds in solar systems were far apart, solar systems within galaxies were even further removed from each other ,and galaxies lay within vast spaces incredibly distant one from the other that space should be eternally limited to a stint to the local moon. And it was not so.
Craft sped the spaces as if travelling between cities, achieving destination in weeks when it should take billions of light years. Astronomers attempted to explain the amazing unseen highways in the black nothingness; engineers attempted to unravel for him the astounding capabilities of engines that could go faster than light; quantum physicists attempted to explain simply the concept of folded space, of wormholes, of time shortening the further and faster one travelled, and many others slotted in the pieces of a gigantic, boggling puzzle.
It was truth that space travel was achieved daily, yet so much forever unexplainable accompanied the achievement, it was short of truth to him.
When he learned of and later saw with his own eyes, the concept of magical travel, city to city, world to world, galaxy to galaxy, in the blink of an eye, he surrendered his search for that truth. Travel was as it was, and it was a God-given gift; who was he to question the ways of God?
He taught himself the paths of magical travel and never questioned the gift.
Some truths belonged only to the High One.
HE WAS CHARGED WITH finding an army, if one existed, and he commenced his search on Ymir, the unholy world of depraved sex.
Chaim smirked as he wandered into one of the city rings. That depravity was gradually being eradicated, for Elixir abhorr
ed the abuse of children. Children should be children, not used as sex slaves, and children should feel safe wherever they were, not barred and guarded behind chain link fences. The day approached when Ymirian children could roam without threat; Elixir would ensure it.
The reason he came to Ymir was Adri.
Adri was an informant. He dealt in information the way others dealt in commodities and wares, but he was a good man who trusted Ymir could return to the salubrious world it was once. He was a gangster with a heart of gold, but few saw that, which was as well or Adri would have fed the fishes years ago.
He bartered information between the crime clans without interfering in their business, but when something sat wrong with him he told Chaim’s agents, who told Chaim, and Chaim now passed on potential atrocities to Elixir. Adri was a double agent and Chaim his controller. Dealing in information was Chaim’s duty before Kaval and Adri was not the only one to send snippets through his network, and both duty and network served Elixir well.
This search could not be handled through his network. He needed Adri face-to-face, for this was dangerous information he sought, and the chain needed to remain short. He set the meeting up using a trusted agent, and now hoped Adri would be clear to show his face.
Ymir cities consisted of rings. An inner circle of farmland was surrounded by a walled ring, then there was a ring of land, then another walled ring, and so forth. Chaim transported to one of the smaller cities, three rings, and approached an established safe house in the outer ring. As an old man he raised little suspicion, and strangers were a familiar sight on Ymir.
His agent loitered outside the nondescript house and scratched at his nose when he saw Chaim - the sign all was well. Chaim tugged at his ear - keep watch - and entered. Inside was as nondescript and Adri, thank the Lord, was there.
Ymirians had red hair and brow ridges and were otherwise familiar. Adri’s hair was the brightest hue. The man could not hide even in a Ymirian crowd, but it served him well, for few suspected a visible man.
“Chaim, on time as usual,” Adri drawled, rising to shake the older man’s hand.
“Thank you for coming.” Chaim found a seat, sank down. Immortal, yes, but old bones remained old bones.
The Ymirian lifted brow ridges. “Uncommon to meet like this, not so? Something must be brewing, for I know I have nothing to pass on at present.”
“The less you know the better, my friend.”
“And the less I can tell you, not so?” Adri grinned.
Chaim returned the grin. “We will compromise as we go.”
“Excellent. Now, what can I do for you?”
“I am looking for pockets of resistance and hope your ears heard tell.”
Adri sucked at his teeth. “Resistance against who or what?”
“Elixir.”
Brow ridges shot sky high. “Come again? Elixir? Why should that worry him? He can stamp resistance out by raising a finger - if that.”
“Not small units hoping to unite. We need to wait until the units become one, and then it may be too late to stamp on anything.”
A low whistle. “You describe an army in preparation.”
Chaim sighed. To receive one had to give. “Yes, it may well be so.”
“And who organises such a thing?”
Chaim then lifted his eyebrows.
Adri laughed. “Ah, you hope I can tell you.” Then he was serious. “How bad are we speculating here?”
“Potentially annihilating. Sanctuary will feel the hammer and likely Valaris and Luvanor, and then who knows?”
“Someone with a vendetta against Elixir?”
“Of which there are many,” Chaim muttered.
“True. The darak fallen types hate being thwarted.”
“Can you help?”
“Not right off, but I’ll put my ears to the ground.”
“The fewer who hear of this the better.”
“I’ll only be listening. You should speak to Reel on Xen also.” Adri gave a huge grin on seeing Chaim’s surprise. “I know Reel, yes. We met on Merrix and imagine our surprise on realising we had a friend in common.” He laughed aloud. “Like to like, Chaim, you know that. Speak to him; he’s closer to the action on Xen. And I’ll do what I can here. Do you want me to pass on through an agent?”
“No. Ask one to contact me and I will come.”
Adri watched the older man. “Chaim, an army prepares for two things. One, to invade with force and the element of surprise, and, two, to counter a perceived threat and equal force. Has Elixir an army?”
“No,” Chaim sighed.
“But?”
“The rumour is an army exists.”
“Ah, and fear is a great motivator. A good general could gather a fair number to his cause.”
“Exactly.”
Adri rose. “You’ll hear from me soon, I promise.”
“Thank you.”
Adri nodded and left the safe house a thoughtful man.
Chaim rose, stretched.
Xen III next.
Titania
SHENENDO STOOD IN line for an hour. When he reached the lady behind the desk and put his query to her, she looked at him quizzically.
“Something wrong?” he asked, his heartbeat upping tempo.
“Luvan history is rarely asked after and yet you are the third in as many weeks. It’s strange, that’s all.”
Shenendo forced calm. “Really? Who else asked?”
The lady smiled. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not at liberty to say.” She bent over her keyboard and pressed keys. “Ah, here it is. Section 80, Aisle 34. You will require transport, sir.”
Shenendo thought quickly. “Tell me, miss, are visitors to Titania monitored?”
She looked at him, losing her smile. “Sir, you need not concern …”
“Miss, I suggest you check on your screen there who I am,” Shenendo said.
She stared at him a beat, two, and then did something on her keyboard. A moment later she straightened. “Sir, it says here you are Shenendo of the Kaval.” Titania agreed to aid the Kaval, an agreement made twenty years ago. “How may I help you, sir?”
“I need to know who asked after Luvan history.”
She typed more. “Three weeks ago a man called Sabian did work here. He is known to us, a historian specialising in ancient cultures, and he once walked these halls for five years.” She bent closer to the screen. “It says he was here for two days.”
“Where can I find this Sabian?”
“It doesn’t say, sir.”
Shenendo nodded. “And the other?”
“Two weeks ago Lowen Dalrish …”
“I know her. Thank you. Oh, how long was she here?”
“Half a day, and she left around the time the guard changed.”
The library was guarded. And monitored. “Thank you, miss. Section 80, you say?”
She gave her professional smile. “Aisle 34. Glad to be of service to the Kaval.”
Shenendo inclined his head and moved away.
“Next!” the lady called, eyes flicking his way.
Shenendo approached the double doors. On the other side a car pulled up in expectation, a man standing beside it.
“Sir, you speak the desired destination in here,” and he pointed at a small grid on the dash, “and the vehicle will take you there. It requires no steering, but please be seated before you speak or it will whiz away empty.”
Shenendo gave a breathless laugh, clambered into the seat of the little yellow car, spoke his destination, and was off. “Thank you!” he called out.
It took an hour to reach the desired place - an hour that would take around ten to walk - and in that hour Shenendo worked through his store of faces and names to find one in particular, but of Sabian he had not heard.
Xen III
XEN WAS A PLEASURE to visit and there was little threat in wandering through Kora, the garden city of Xen III.
There was little crime, too, and that was good for Xen as a wh
ole. When the domes came down, so had much of the criminal ways, but it was not eradicated completely. Always, there were those who survived by delving the underworld.
Chaim went direct to Reel’s office, without the need for subterfuge.
Reel was a respected lawyer and an upstanding member of the community. The reason he was a dealer in information also was personal. Most of his cases dealt with the criminals of Xen and he hated that the element existed, thus he defended where defence was required, sued where necessary and brought criminals to trial and, in all of that, he heard much.
Where he was helpless, he passed on pertinent information to Elixir through Chaim. In this he had the Peacekeeper’s silent support.
It was just after lunch and Reel was in, busy with a client. Chaim was shown in as soon as the client left.
Reel looked up from a thick file before him, frowning. “I’m sorry, do we have an appointment … Chaim!” He rose, hand outstretched. “This is a surprise.”
Chaim shook and smiled. “Our mutual friend Adri suggested I speak with you.”
Reel coloured. “Sorry, I let that one slip.”
“Relax. Adri is trustworthy.”
Reel was relieved. He was a fat man who wore his emotions for the entire world to see, except those he annihilated in the courtroom. “Sit, sit; would you like something to drink?”
Chaim sat. “I could kill for a cup of tea.”
Reel hit a button on his desk. “Angela, two teas, please.” He sat and closed the file on his desk. “How can I help?”
Chaim explained.
Reel was about to speak when Angela entered bearing a tray. She set it down with a smile, was thanked, and left. Reel leaned forward and poured.
Chaim claimed his cup, added milk and sugar and took an appreciative sip. “This is good.”
The lawyer grinned, drank and said, “I cannot help you with the source of this army, but I can tell you I have heard of weapons smuggled into Lax.”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 10