Torrullin closed his eyes. Yes, the Throne had proven that once more. Torrullin, the real ruler of the Valleur. Gods, when would he be free?
He said, “All I received was trajectory. Our instincts are correct. Tianoman and Aislinn are somewhere in the reaches beyond, around or on Excelsior. Shielded, no doubt.”
“By whom?” Vanar demanded.
“Why?” Yiddin said simultaneously.
“How do we find them?” Sirlasin breathed.
Torrullin inhaled deeply and released. “We do not have a face and a name yet. Sirlasin, I need anything you remember. Why remains unanswered, but might have something to do with negating what influence we have when Beacon commences its project of annexation. As to how we find them - we search every corner and curve of that space.” He eyeballed them. “No heroics, but anyone you can safely spare is to start the search.”
Yiddin nodded and swung away. A moment later he began calling names.
Sirlasin could not shed much light. He mentioned grey eyes, and Quilla gnawed at his bottom lip, thoughtful. By the time the description was complete, Valleur were transporting out.
The search commenced.
Torrullin glanced at Quilla. “I assume you wish to continue shadowing me.”
“No need to be rude, Enchanter.”
Torrullin flashed a grin, and vanished.
Quilla followed.
He left a clear trail for Tristan to employ.
Excelsior
IT WAS AN INDUSTRIAL planet.
Tall chimneystacks formed a surreal skyline and a haze of amber smog hung over everything. The stink of industry was overpowering. Excelsior was headed where Xen III had been once; domed cities to protect them from noxious air.
Yet, amid the stacks and fumes, were pockets of green, small islands of verdancy holding out against man’s greed, and in those pockets the people of Excelsior lived, those fortunate enough to afford it. Those not so fortunate existed in slums amid factories and along railway sidings.
There was one exception to these two ways of life and that was the massive weapons facility set in a valley in utter isolation.
Huge triple-spaced chain link fences skyscraper-high protected it from outsiders and was continually patrolled by an army of guards and their dogs. Guard towers were set at five-meter intervals along the entire perimeter and the main gate was manned by brutish men armed with heavy machine guns. Another entrance was wide enough for flatbeds to cart the huge missiles and was ruthlessly protected by an army twice as large as the patrols along the fences. The outer fence was electrified and sensor and alarms were in heavy evidence.
The message was clear; stay away, but if you have business here, you need priority clearance.
In the centre of the massive facility was a lake of pristine beauty, but massive cooling towers marred that and almost hid it from view. And yet, as large as the scale of operations was, what could be seen above ground was only a fraction of what lay out of sight underground. Excelsior had hidden its secrets in the past and still guarded it now.
Of course, it was no longer a secret.
Excelsior would soon lose its main source of income.
THE FOUR MEN AND one birdman lay on their stomachs on the rise to the south, screened by tall grass.
Most of the growth had been removed from the hills surrounding the valley for intruders to be visible against the skyline, but the grass had been neglected recently and stood them in good stead now.
Excelsior signed an agreement to cease weapons activity a few months back and the facility ground to a halt, allowing the neglect. Complete disarmament commenced, and many nations breathed sighs of relief, but Excelsior had relied long on the income and Beacon played to it. Now the facility was more protected than ever; Excelsior had reneged.
The four men were geared up in black and chose to await the night rather than attempt entry immediately. Meanwhile they would study the area and the timing between changing of shifts. They carried no technological weapons and their swords were wrapped against inadvertent noise. No one spoke.
Quilla left it to them; white feathers were a beacon. He hunkered below the rise.
They were in position half an hour when tell-tale sounds behind revealed the approach of someone on foot. Elianas put a finger to his lips, motioned for the others to stay out of sight and sidled around and crawled away. He would deal with the intruders. He vanished down the incline without a sound.
Teroux’s eyes were round.
Torrullin maintained the watch on the valley; Elianas was capable.
Teighlar sighed inaudibly and hoped this fiasco would not impact on the Senlu.
ELIANAS CRAWLED IN SILENCE until he was well below the rise and then rose up onto his haunches. When he saw who climbed up to their position about to undo the invisibility they had achieved, he discovered he was furious.
He stood and angled down to intercept him.
Tristan saw him coming and it was clear to him Elianas was not happy.
The dark man came to a halt. “What is the meaning of this?”
Tristan’s eyes narrowed. “I choose to help.”
“We do not need it. There are guards everywhere; you could have revealed us.” Elianas spoke in a low whisper.
Tristan spoke likewise. “I am here, deal with it.”
Elianas bit back an expletive. “Get into the trees, damn it.”
He walked swiftly into the closest stand of trees. It was not much cover, but was more secure than standing in the open. There he faced Tristan and folded his arms, legs braced.
“The dynamics are already too complicated. Your loyalty will be tested, Tris. Teroux needs you, I agree, but when it comes right down to it, Torrullin will be the one you stand up for. It will hurt you to hurt your cousin.”
Tristan likewise braced, directly before the man. “Have you considered I am here for you?”
Elianas’ eyelids flickered.
Tristan lifted a shoulder and offered a wry smile. “I am here now; allow me to help. Torrullin is searching for something, isn’t he? Something he means for no one to know about.”
Elianas blinked and said expressionlessly, “Torrullin searches for his Shadow Wings.” Elianas undid his arms and relaxed his stance.
Tristan stared at him. “You imply he cares more about the loss of his wings than his son’s death. And still you pay for defending yourself.”
Elianas inclined his head, and shrugged. “Torrullin wants the wings returned, because they could kill me. He does not know this consciously.”
A quick frown. “That does not make sense and you cannot die.”
“Unfortunately I can.”
Tristan blurted, “How?” He managed to keep it to whisper.
Elianas leaned forward. “You are not to repeat this, especially not to Torrullin. He is a seven times born true immortal, while I achieve it in periodic death. Alhazen demands it. Tymall knew in Lethe, and thus fought hard, so hard he almost succeeded.”
Tristan pinched his nose, trying to work through the nuances. “Torrullin does not know, yet somehow suspects, though it is a thought he has not stumbled into. He pushes to find this elusive question and answer. Would you return, Elianas?”
Elianas sighed. “Of course, but when? It is about transmutation of energy and I have no idea what it entails. How long would Torrullin have to wait this time?”
“How often does this happen?”
“Once every era or so. I did not know before, because I was engaged in the seven cycle and believed it about being born, not the dying part. The ‘death’ inside the Path of Shades, fortunately, has released me for a time, and I cannot die as I stand here from weapon or sword. Tymall, however, was Warlock. Digilan was able to manipulate energy. The remnant of Digilan wrapped in Shadow Wings remains a danger. To me.”
“I do not think Torrullin searches for his wings.”
“Not consciously, Tristan, but they call.” Elianas’ gaze grew distant. “Mine call to me, and they are in a r
ealm no one will ever access again.”
Tristan lifted a hand and hissed, “Someone comes!”
They crouched instantly, but it was Teighlar crawling his way down the incline, eyes swivelling in every direction. Elianas stood first and then so did Teighlar. He came over swiftly.
When he saw Tristan, he muttered, “I was going to ask what is taking so long, but now I see. Damn it, Torrullin is already as taut as a bowstring.”
“I want to help,” Tristan said noncommittally.
“Obviously,” the Emperor mouthed. “Why don’t we pull Alik into the fray while we are at it?”
Elianas’ eyes narrowed, but he did not respond.
Teighlar shrugged. He glanced over his shoulder. “Let us get back up before one of the others comes looking.”
Elianas nodded and set off.
Tristan followed thoughtfully.
TORRULLIN NEARLY EXPLODED. Elianas?
The dark man lay down at his side. Hold your fury; it will hamper your ability to attend to what we are trying to achieve here on this world. Tianoman will need his family. And, idiot, Teroux probably needs someone in his court also.
Torrullin flipped to his side to stare at his grandson. The way Tristan stared back proved that claim without doubt.
He turned away and met Elianas’ unfathomable eyes. We need finish this, Elianas. I cannot deal with my family too long.
I shall run interference whenever necessary.
They will not thank you for it.
I have a thick skin.
Torrullin smiled. Your skin is like silk, to my eternal downfall.
Elianas’ eyes crinkled. Do not make your problems mine.
Torrullin’s smile widened.
Concentrate on the mission, Elianas sent. The rest follows whether we like it or not.
Torrullin drew breath and faced forward again.
Chapter 20
Weapons of mass destruction were invented and are employed by those who possess little imagination.
~ Weaponry – Orleon, Author ~
Excelsior
The ridge
THE DAY OF WATCHING gifted them two important facts.
One, the main concentration of employees came and went from a building set near the main gate and they flashed identity cards as they left for the night. It meant that particular building was an administration centre only.
Two, much activity was centred on a squat water tower and it was heavily guarded. Few entered and those that did were body searched and screened, as were those leaving, and nobody left the facility at all for the night. They slept somewhere on site. It meant the water tower was a ruse and the real business lay through those guarded doors.
For the seven on the ridge getting in and past the outer guard was not a problem; they could transport into the building. The problem lay in what they would find within. There were probably guards inside also and they could set off alarms, all this while attempting to ferret out the section dealing with anti-matter devices.
Quilla elected to remain on the ridge as ‘eyes’; he was of the opinion he would slow them otherwise.
Night, however, brought another factor into the equation. Floodlights were switched on everywhere. And the guard doubled.
They needed a diversion to draw attention away from the water tower and, hopefully, even draw the guards from inside it. The diversion needed to be spectacular and long lasting.
As it darkened they could sit up safely. All light was brilliantly concentrated inside and along the perimeter of the facility. They stretched and drank water and discussed the diversion.
“We need explosions and gunfire, a simulated attack,” Torrullin said in a low voice. “Two for the diversion and three into that tower.” He sat for a while in thoughtful silence. “Tristan, you and Teighlar take the diversion. Set off explosions in the sector behind the administration building - no people there now - and give us loud gunfire, rapid-fire weapons, shouts and screams, and use flares and the like. Make it big and as noisy as possible. Spark the fence as if it is being scaled. And keep it up for at least an hour. Elianas and I, with Teroux, will take the tower.”
Elianas shook his head.
“I want him along for all of it, Elianas.”
“You could get him killed.”
“I can take care of myself,” Teroux said.
Torrullin moved on. “Tristan, you go in an hour. By then the guards have settled and will not expect anything. Once they are sufficiently diverted, we go in. Pull out after an hour even if we are not back and do not come in after us.” No one said anything. “Quilla, you direct from up here.”
The birdman nodded.
“All right, let us go over sound spells …”
Compound
FIFTY MINUTES LATER TRISTAN and Teighlar were in position in the greater darkness beyond the floodlights.
The dogs sniffed in their direction, but had not done so overtly enough to arouse their handlers. Somewhere a door slammed and somewhere else someone coughed, but otherwise all was silent.
Ten minutes thereafter Tristan threw the first fireball and the dogs erupted. It landed behind the building and exploded in bright orange flame. Shouts burst forth and guards started running.
Teighlar tossed two in rapid succession, intensifying the noise level and frantic activity. Yet the guards were well-trained, for only a portion went to investigate; the majority stepped up their watchfulness and cocked their weapons without moving from position.
Tristan threw a wave of sound at the chain link fences, setting the outer fence a-spark, running bolts of electricity along the expanse nearest the building, and setting the inner two a-wobble as if percussion bombs were released. The dogs howled and snarled and their handlers shouted.
Guards abandoned their posts and came running. Then the sound of gunfire erupted and weapons were raised in confusion. Shots were fired into the dark without co-ordination and into the area of explosion amid confused shouts from the guards asking where the enemy were.
The two men intensified the simulation and maintained a barrage of sound and explosion.
Water Tower
MINUTES LATER TORRULLIN, Elianas and Teroux transported into the water tower.
They found the place deserted, arriving in a sterile white room inside the doors to find only banks of monitors alive in the emptiness. Apparently no guards were allowed inside.
“Helps,” Torrullin muttered, and headed for the opposite exit. Before he reached it alarms rang out. “Damn. Transport beyond this door.”
They vanished as a contingent of guards rushed in from outside … to mill in astonishment.
Beyond lay a curving corridor on a decline and doors led off at intervals, all shut. Each door was marked and they read them as they walked rapidly along the sloping tunnel-like corridor.
Security Discs. Computers. Storage. Clothing. Call Screening. Decontamination. First Aid. Laboratory Equipment. Canteen. Personnel. Lab One. Lab Two, Three, Four and Five. Cells. Interview Rooms. Bunks. Supplies.
On it went and the decline never varied. The curve was wide and spiralled ever downward. Each door required an electronic key and fingerprint to open, as well as a retina scan. They encountered no one and the silence was broken only by a steady, all-pervading hum, as if giant machines operated without sleep deep in the bowels of the earth.
There was no trace of Tianoman.
Then the doors were noticeably further apart. Obviously there were greater spaces behind them.
Outer Casings. Electronic Fuses. Keypads. Hardware. Radioactive Material Nine. Radioactive Component Seven, Eight and Eighteen C. Plutonium. Main Decontamination. Sickbay.
They grew ever grimmer.
The corridor curved in two directions after Sickbay. One way continued the slow downward spiral, while the other commenced an upward curve in the opposite direction. Torrullin pointed upward and they began to climb.
They soon realised important staff had their offices in that area and it was also evi
dent great care was taken with insulation against dangerous materials. Even their footfalls damped in the surreal atmosphere.
Major Stizniski. Major Cartolis. General Staff and Secretarial Facility. Lockdown Facility. General Hallibat. Major-General Rorkis.
Torrullin stopped before that door. He looked over his shoulder at Elianas. “Our nemesis, I think. This man signs the commands that send missiles out into the universe.”
“We need to get him out of his bed soon,” Elianas said.
“First we disable operations.” Torrullin gestured and they returned the way they came. “General Rorkis cannot have buttons to push by the time we haul him in.”
They came to the downward spiral and continued. They passed through a metal detector, fortunately deactivated for the night, and then a detector with a more sinister connotation. It detected radioactivity.
Teroux muttered he hoped Tianoman and Aislinn were far away.
The corridor opened into a massive space a hundred storeys high, except it went downward and they stood poised on the edge. Huge sheets of thick glass wound around a perimeter at least four to five sals. Heavy glass doors gave out onto balconies at intervals and stairs twisted down into the great space. Level after level after level after level could be seen going down. Offices within each level; literally thousands had to work there if each office had at least one occupant. Far below, the floor was barely visible, made so due to the massive machines working tirelessly, fully automated.
On a gantry spanning half the great space about a third of the way down they saw the first night-time activity.
Men and women placed missiles in long rows upon the metal platform and others carefully checked each one. Quality control. There were hundreds lying in silent and accusing rows. Other men and women collected the checked missiles and loaded them into special metal containers, while others keyed in the locking sequences into small keypads on the side of every container, and by the number of containers stacked in pallet loads on swinging cranes overhead, there were thousands of missiles ready to be shipped, and no doubt great storage chambers lower down contained thousands more.
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 148