Teal and Merlin were led down into the suspended structure, into a windowless warren of corridors and laboratories. They went down level after level, past sealed doors and observation galleries. There was air and power and light, and clearly enough room for thousands of workers. But although the place was clean and well-maintained, hardly anyone now seemed to be present. It was only when they got very deep that signs of activity began to appear. Here the side-rooms and offices showed evidence of recent use, and now and then uniformed staff members passed them, carrying notes and equipment. But Merlin detected no sign of haste or excitement in any of the personnel.
The lowest chamber of the structure was a curious circular room. Around its perimeter were numerous desks and consoles, with seated staff at least giving the impression of being involved in some important business. They were all facing the middle of the room, whose floor was a single circular sheet of glass, stretched across the abyss of the underlying lava flow. The orange glow of that molten river underlit the faces of the staff, as if reminding them of the perilous location of their workplace. The glass floor only caught Merlin’s eye for an instant, though. Of vastly more interest to him was the syrinx, suspended nose-down in a delicate cradle over the middle of the glass. It was too far from the floor to be reached, even if someone had trusted the doubtful integrity of that glass panel. Merlin was just wondering how anyone got close to the syrinx when a flimsy connecting platform was swung out across the glass, allowing a woman to step over the abyss. Tiptoeing lightly, she adjusted something on the syrinx, moving some sort of transducer from one chalked spot to another, before folding the platform away and returning to her console.
All was quiet, with only the faintest whisper of communications from one member of staff to another.
‘In the event of an imminent malfunction,’ Baskin said, ‘the syrinx may be dropped through the pre-weakened glass, into the lava sea. That may or may not destroy it, of course. We don’t know. But it would at least allow the workers some chance of fleeing the facility, which would not be the case if we used nuclear charges.’
‘I’m glad you’ve got their welfare at heart,’ Merlin said.
‘Don’t think too kindly of us,’ Baskin smiled back. ‘This is war. If we thought there was a chance of the facility itself being overrun, then more than just the syrinx would need to be destroyed. Also the equipment, the records, the collective expertise of the workers...’
‘You’d drop the entire structure,’ Teal said, nodding her horrified understanding. ‘The reason it’s fixed the way it is, on those three legs. You’d press a button and drop all these people into that fire.’
‘They understand the risks,’ Baskin said. ‘And they’re paid well. Extremely well, I should say. Besides, it’s a very good incentive to hasten the work of understanding.’
Merlin felt no kinship with these warring peoples, and little more than contempt for what they had done to themselves across all these centuries. But compared to the Waymakers, Merlin, Teal and Baskin may as well have been children of the same fallen tribe, playing in the same vast and imponderable ruins, not one of them wiser than the others.
‘I’ll need persuasion that it’s real,’ he said.
‘I never expected you to take my word for it,’ Baskin said. ‘You may make whatever use of the equipment here you need, within limits, and you may question my staff freely.’
‘Easier if you just let me take it for a test ride.’
‘Yes, it would – for you.’ Baskin reached out and settled a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, as if they were two old comrades. ‘Shall we agree – a day to complete your inspection?’
‘If that’s all you’ll allow.’
‘I’ve nothing to hide, Merlin. Do you imagine I’d ever expect to dupe a man like you with a fake? Go ahead and make your enquiries – my staff have already been told to offer you complete cooperation.’ Baskin touched a hand to the side of his mouth, as if whispering a secret. ‘Truth to tell, it will suit many of them if you take the syrinx. Then they won’t feel obliged to keep working in this place.’
They were given a room in the facility, while Merlin made his studies of the syrinx. The staff were as helpful as Baskin had promised, and Merlin soon had all the equipment and records he could have hoped for. Short of connecting the syrinx to Tyrant’s own diagnostic systems, he was able to run almost every test he could imagine, and the results and records quickly pointed to the same conclusion. The syrinx was the genuine article.
But Merlin did not need a whole day to arrive at that conclusion.
While Baskin kept Teal occupied with endless discussions in Main, learning all that he could from this living speaker, Merlin used the console to dig into Havergal’s history, and specifically the background and career of Baskin’s long-dead ancestor, King Curtal. He barely needed to access the private records; what was in the public domain was clear enough. Curtal had come to power within a decade of the Shrike’s visit to this system.
Merlin waited until they were alone in the evening, just before they were due to dine with Prince Baskin.
‘You’ve been busy all day,’ Teal said. ‘I take it you’ve reached a verdict by now?’
‘The syrinx? Oh, that was no trouble at all. It’s real, just as Baskin promised. But I used my time profitably, Teal. I found out something else as well – and I think you’ll find it interesting. You were right about that portrait, you see.’
‘I know you enjoy these games, Merlin. But if you want to get to the point ...’
‘The man who became King Curtal began life called Tierce.’ He watched her face for the flicker of a reaction that he knew she would not be able to conceal. The recognition of a name, across years or centuries, depending on the reckoning.
Merlin cleared his throat before continuing.
‘Tierce was a high-ranking officer in the Havergal military command – assigned to the liaison group which dealt with the Shrike. He’d have had close contact with your crew during the whole time you were in-system.’
Her mouth moved a little before she found the words. ‘Tell me what happened to Tierce.’
‘Nothing bad. But what you might not have known about Tierce was that he was also minor royalty. He probably played it down, trying to get ahead in his career on his own merits. And that was how things would have worked out, if it wasn’t for one of those craters. A Gaffurian long-range strike, unexpected and deadly, taking out the entire core of the royal family. They were all killed, Teal – barely a decade after you left the system. But they had to maintain continuity, then more than ever. The chain of succession led to Tierce, and he became King Curtal. The man you knew ended up as King.’
She looked at him for a long moment, perhaps measuring for herself the reasons Merlin might have had to lie about such a thing, and then finding none that were plausible, beyond tormenting her for the sake of it.
‘Can you be sure?’
‘The records are open. There was no cover-up about the succession itself. But the fact that Tierce had a daughter...’ Merlin found that he had to glance away before continuing. ‘That was difficult. The girl was illegitimate, and that was deeply problematic for the Havergal elite. On the other hand, Tierce was proud and protective of his daughter, and wouldn’t accept the succession unless Cupis – that’s the girl’s name – was given all the rights and privileges of nobility. There was a constitutional tussle, as you can imagine. But eventually it was all settled in favour of Cupis and she was granted legitimacy within the family. They’re good at that sort of thing, royals.’
‘What you’re saying is that Cupis was my daughter.’
‘For reasons that you can probably imagine, there’s no mention that the child was born to a Cohort mother. That would be a scandal beyond words. But of course you could hardly forget that you’d given birth to a girl, could you?’
She answered after a moment’s hesitation. ‘We had a girl. Her name was Pauraque.’
Merlin nodded. ‘A Cohort name –
not much good for the daughter of a king. Tierce would have had to accept a new name for the girl, something more suited to local customs. I don’t doubt it was hard for him, if the old name was a link to the person he’d never see again, the person he presumably loved and missed. But he accepted the change in the girl’s interests. Do you mind – was there a reason you didn’t stay with Tierce, or Tierce didn’t join you on the Shrike?’
‘Neither was allowed,’ Teal said, with a sudden coldness in her voice. ‘What happened was difficult. Tierce and I were never meant to get that close, and if one of us had stayed with the other it would have made the whole affair a lot more public, risking the trade agreements. We were given no choice. They said if I didn’t go along with things, the simplest option would be to make Pauraque disappear. So I had to leave my daughter behind on Havergal, and I was told it would be best for me if I forgot she ever existed. And I tried. But when I saw that portrait...’
‘I can’t imagine what you went through,’ Merlin answered. ‘But if I can offer anything by way of consolation, it’s this. King Curtal was a good ruler – one of the best they had. And Queen Cupis did just as well. She took the throne late in her father’s life, when Curtal abdicated due to failing health. And by all accounts she was an honest and fair-minded ruler who did everything she could to broker peace with the enemy. It was only when the military computers overruled her plans...’ Merlin managed a kindly smile and produced the data tablet had been keeping by his side. It was of Havergal manufacture, but rugged and intuitive in its functions. He held it to Teal and a woman’s face appeared on the screen. ‘That’s Queen Cupis,’ he said. ‘She wasn’t one of the portraits we saw earlier, or you’d have made the connection for yourself. I can see you in her pretty clearly.’
Teal took the tablet and held it close to her, so that its glow underlit her features. ‘Are there more images?’ she asked, with a catch in her voice, as if she almost feared the answer.
‘Many,’ Merlin replied. ‘And recordings, video and audio, taken at all stages in her life. I stored quite a few on the tablet – I thought you’d like to see them.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I suppose.’
‘I know this is troubling for you, and I probably shouldn’t have dug into Curtal’s past. But once I’d started ...’
‘And after Cupis?’
‘Nearly twelve hundred years of history, Teal – kings and queens and marriages and assassinations, all down the line. Too many portraits for one room. But your genes were in Cupis and if I’ve read the family tree properly they ought to be in every descendant, generation after generation.’ He paused, giving her time to take this all in. ‘I’m not exactly sure what this makes you. Havergal royalty, by blood connection? I’m pretty certain they won’t have run into this situation before. Equally certain Baskin doesn’t have a clue that you’re one of his distant historical ancestors. And I suggest we keep it that way, at least for now.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s information,’ Merlin said. ‘And information’s always powerful.’
He left her with the tablet. They were past the hour for their appointment with Prince Baskin now, but Merlin would go on alone and make excuses for Teal’s lateness.
Besides, he had something else on his mind.
Merlin and the Prince were dining, just the two of them for the moment. Baskin had been making half-hearted small-talk since Merlin’s arrival, but it was plain that there was really only one thing on his mind, and he was straining to have an answer.
‘My staff say that you were very busy,’ he said. ‘Making all sorts of use of our facilities. Did you by any chance ...’
Merlin smiled sweetly. ‘By any chance ...?’
‘Arrive at a conclusion. Concerning the matter at hand.’
Merlin tore into his bread with rude enthusiasm. ‘The matter?’
‘The syrinx, Merlin. The syrinx. The thing that’s kept you occupied all day.’
Merlin feigned sudden and belated understanding, touching a hand to his brow and shaking his head at his own forgetfulness. ‘Of course. Forgive me, Prince Baskin. It always was really just a formality, wasn’t it? I mean, I never seriously doubted your honesty.’
‘I’m glad to hear that.’ But there was still an edge in Baskin’s voice. ‘So ...’
‘So?’
‘Is it real, or is it not real. That’s what you set out to establish, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, it’s real. Very real.’ Merlin looked at his host with a dawning understanding. ‘Did you actually have doubts of your own, Prince? That had never occurred to me until now, but I suppose it would have made perfect sense. After all, you only ever had the Shrike’s word that the thing was real. How could you ever know, without using it?’
‘We tried, Merlin. For thirteen hundred years, we tried. But it’s settled, then? You’ll accept the syrinx in payment? It really isn’t much that I’m asking of you, all things considered.’
‘If you really think this bag of tricks will make all the difference, then who I am I to stand in your way?’
Baskin beamed. He stood and recharged their glasses from the bottle that was already half-empty.
‘You do a great thing for us, Merlin. Your name will echo down the centuries of peace to follow.’
‘Let’s just hope the Gaffurians hold it in the same high esteem.’
‘Oh, they will. After a generation or two under our control, they’ll forget there were ever any differences between us. We’ll be generous in victory, Merlin. If there are scores to be settled, it will be with the Gaffurian high command, not the innocent masses. We have no quarrel with those people.’
‘And the brigands – you’ll extend the same magnanimity in their direction?’
‘There’ll be no need. After you’ve taken back the Tactician, they’ll be a spent force, brushed to the margins.’
Merlin’s smile was tight. ‘I did a little more reading on them. There was quite a bit in the private and public records, beyond what you showed me on the crossing.’
‘We didn’t care to overwhelm you with irrelevant details,’ Baskin said, returning to his seat. ‘But there was never anything we sought to hide from you. I welcome your curiosity: you can’t be too well prepared in advance of your operation.’
‘The background is complicated, isn’t it? Centuries of dissident or breakaway factions, skulking around the edges of your war, shifting from one ideology to another, sometimes loosely aligned with your side, sometimes with the enemy. At times numerous, at other times pushed almost to extinction. I was interested in their leader, Struxer ...’
‘There’s little to say about him.’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Merlin fingered his glass, knowing he had the edge for now. ‘He was one of yours, wasn’t he? A military defector. A senior tactician, in his own right. Close to your inner circle – almost a favoured son. But instead of offering his services to the other side, he teamed up with the brigands on Mundar. From what I can gather, there are Gaffurian defectors as well. What do they all want, do you think? What persuades those men and women that they’re better off working together, than against each other?’
‘They stole the Tactician, Merlin – remember that. A military weapon in all but name. Hardly the actions of untainted pacifists.’
Behind Baskin, the doors opened as Teal came to join them. Baskin twisted around in his seat to greet her, nodding in admiration at the satin Havergal evening wear she had donned for the meal. It suited her well, Merlin thought, but what really mattered was the distraction it offered. While Baskin’s attention was diverted, Merlin quickly swapped their glasses. He had been careful to drink to the same level as Baskin, so that the subterfuge wasn’t obvious.
‘I was just telling Prince Baskin the good news,’ Merlin said, lifting the swapped glass and taking a careful sip from it. ‘I’m satisfied about the authenticity of the syrinx.’
Teal took her place at the table. Baskin leaned across to pour her a glass.
‘Merlin said you were feeling a little unwell, so I wasn’t counting on you joining us at all.’
‘It was just a turn, Prince. I’m feeling much better now.’
‘Good... good.’ He was looking at her intently, a frown buried in his gaze. ‘You know, Teal, if I didn’t know you’d just come from space, I’d swear you were...’ But he smiled at himself, dismissing whatever thought he had been about to voice. ‘Never mind – it was a foolish notion. I trust you’ll accept our hospitality, while Merlin discharges his side of the arrangement? I know you travel together, but on this occasion at least Merlin has no need of an interpreter. There’ll be no negotiation, simply a demonstration of overwhelming and decisive force. They’ll understand what it is we’d like back.’
‘Where he goes, I go,’ Teal said.
Merlin tensed, his fingers tight on the glass. ‘It might not be a bad idea, actually. There’ll be a risk – a small one, I grant, but a risk nonetheless. Tyrant isn’t indestructible, and I’ll be restricted in the weapons I can deploy, if the Prince wants his toy back in one piece. I’d really rather handle this one on my own.’
‘I accept the risk,’ she said. ‘And not because I care about the Tactician, or the difference it will make to this system. But I do want to see the Huskers defeated, and for that Merlin needs his syrinx.’
‘I’d have been happy to give it to Merlin now, if I thought your remaining on Havergal would offer a guarantee of his return. But the opposite arrangement suits me just as well. As soon as we have the Tactician, we’ll release the syrinx.’
‘If those are you terms,’ Merlin said, with an easy-going shrug.
Baskin smiled slightly. ‘You trust me?’
‘I trust the capability of my ship to enforce a deal. It amounts to the same thing.’
‘A pragmatist. I knew you were the right man for the job, Merlin.’
Merlin lifted his glass. ‘To success, in that case.’
Baskin followed suit, and Teal raised her own glass in half-hearted sympathy. ‘To success,’ the Prince echoed. ‘And victory.’
The Iron Tactician (NewCon Press Novellas (Set 1), #1) Page 5