Code Of The Lifemaker

by Hogan, James

  hand for Glautzen to do likewise, and followed Abaquaan, Clarissa, and the

  others near the doorway through into the main cabin. Glautzen and West came

  next, closing the door quietly behind them to leave Zambendorf alone and

  unmoving, staring out into Titan's perpetual night.

  33

  FRENNELECH, THE HIGH PRIEST OF KROAXIA, SAT ALONE IN HIS PRIVATE chambers in the

  Palace of the High Holy One at Pergassos, brooding over the latest reports from

  his spies. He smelt a conspiracy in the air, and the evidence pointed to

  Eskenderom, the King, as being very much mixed up in it.

  Eskenderom's ambition had long been to sweep the other nations of the Sacred

  Alliance aside and establish Kroaxia at the head of a mighty empire that would

  stretch to the Peripheral Barrier, with himself as its leader. His preparatory

  plans had involved political intrigues and subterfuges aimed at undermining the

  kings and rulers of neighboring states and weakening their holds over their

  realms; but in the case of Serethgin, the very destabilization that Eskenderom

  had brought about had given Kleippur opportunity to seize control over the

  province of Carthogia, and the resulting state of affairs had proved a hindrance

  to the further development of Eskenderom's scheme ever since.

  Kroaxia's acquisition of weapons from the Lumians, however, suddenly put

  everything in a new light. If the reports of decisive Waskorian successes

  against Kleippur's forces were accurate—as the invasion of Carthogia was

  intended in part to test—the invasion would be completed swiftly and

  devastatingly, and Kleippur would cease to be a problem. Then Eskenderom would

  have to make his move against the other Alliance nations just as quickly and

  with total surprise, while his advantage was overwhelming—before the Lumians

  could restore a balance by arming Eskenderom's rivals in like fashion, as was

  doubtless their longer-term intent. For a long time, however, Eskenderom had

  been growing increasingly impatient over the traditional division of the powers

  of state between its secular and ecclesiastical authorities; if the King were

  now to find himself commanding powers potent enough to build an empire that

  would stretch to the ends of the world, Frennelech was under no illusion that

  his better nature would lead him to share such powers graciously with the clergy

  to serve the founding of a universal Church as well.

  As Eskenderom would already have concluded, the prospect of such a dramatic

  decline of clerical power would put Frennelech squarely among his potential

  opposition—the kind of opposition, moreover, that Eskenderom would doubtless

  prefer to do without while he was dealing with the Alliance nations. The most

  probable explanation for Eskenderom's taking such a secretive interest in a

  laughable pipsqueak like Groork, therefore, and dispatching the loyal captain

  Horazzorgio to retrieve Groork from Xerxeon, was that Eskenderom intended

  replacing Frennelech with a tame puppet appointed by the Crown as its obedient

  caretaker of all matters spiritual. As far as Frennelech's sources had been able

  to ascertain, Horazzorgio still hadn't returned although he was long overdue by

  even the most conservative estimates. That was worrisome because it suggested

  that perhaps even more might be going on than Frennelech knew about.

  Frennelech knew that Eskenderom frequently visited Gornod, the desolate spot in

  the mountains east of Pergassos where the Lumian flying vehicles landed, to meet

  treacherously with the Lumians behind Frennelech's back, even when Eskenderom's

  servants assured him that the King was somewhere else. He also knew from his own

  private rendezvouses with the Lumians in the dense forests to the west of

  Pergassos that Eskenderom was trying to enlist the aid of Lumian magic to

  present Groork to the Kroaxian population as a genuine miracle-worker and

  revealer of Divine Will—because the Lumians had admitted it. True, the Lumians

  had steadfastly denied that they had agreed to any such request, but how could

  Frennelech rely on the words of those who had already betrayed Kleippur's trust?

  Their only interest seemed to be their obsessive desire to tame the forests, and

  they would reward with wealth, power, and protection any robeing in a position

  of authority or influence who was prepared to cooperate with them in achieving

  that end. Eskenderom commanded the Kroaxian army, but Frennelech controlled the

  minds of the Kroaxian people. Which process would deliver a greater quantity of

  willing robeing labor to the Lumians— force or persuasion? Both Eskenderom and

  Frennelech were pressing their cases to the Lumians, and no doubt both were

  hearing reassuring responses. But ultimately, which would the Lumians elect to

  go with?

  He gathered the sheets of foil together and locked them in a concealed

  compartment in his desk, then stood up and walked through into the outer chamber

  where his secretary, Archdeacon Jaskillion, was copying columns of numbers into

  an enormous, plate-bound ledger. "Over eight twelves of dozens of six-crowns

  received in penitents' dues and eternity prepayments last bright, and less than

  two dozen twelve-brights' remission of Reduction Furnace time paid out,"

  Jaskillion said, sitting back and looking up. "Gross margin up a twelfth and a

  half. The Lifemaker should be well pleased."

  "Then let the Lifemaker's business be kept private to the Lifemaker, lest

  Eskenderom should commence levying a tax on it," Frennelech advised.

  Jaskillion looked shocked. "But to tax the sacred revenues would be tantamount

  to disputing the Lifemaker's judgment of His needs and interfering in the

  prosecution of His works," he protested. "What sacrilege would the King be

  committing thus!"

  "Then it is our holy duty to avoid exposing him to the temptation," Frennelech

  said.

  The archdeacon studied Frennelech's face for a few seconds. "But thou didst not

  come to banter such matters, I see. What troubles thee?"

  "The Lumians," Frennelech said. "I cannot trust their assurances, but neither am

  I able to order their casings seared with flame and acid for the truthfulness of

  their words to be assessed by Inquisitors. And yet we dare not allow this

  business to be decided by the whims of these unworldly aliens whose motives and

  whose notions of truth are as unknown to us as the sky's far side of which they

  speak."

  Jaskillion's mood became more serious. "The question has been occupying my

  thoughts too," he agreed.

  "And what answers have thy thoughts supplied?"

  Jaskillion paused for a moment to collect his words. "When a king becomes too

  strong, it is usually time for the Lifemaker's divine, immutable plan to be

  revised," he said at last. "It would be an error to permit Carthogia to be

  sacrificed just yet."

  "A force aligned against Eskenderom at this time is not one to be squandered—I

  agree. But our invasion has been dispatched, and Kleippur's army is about to be

  scattered and smashed. What shall save Carthogia then?"

  "The Waskorians lie interposed between our army and Kleippur, and they too are

  equipped with Lumian arms," Jaskillion pointed out. "Were they,
upon our secret

  instruction, to ally themselves with Carthogia, the resulting combined strength

  would perhaps be sufficient to hold out while Serethgin mobilizes against

  Kroaxia."

  "What relief could Serethgin's horde bring against Lumian devilment, which

  confounds even Kleippur's trained regiments?" Frennelech asked scoffingly.

  "Much, if the Serethginians too were issued Lumian arms," Jaskillion replied.

  "Is this some foolish jest? We cannot confide in Serethgin's leaders and admit

  them into our dialogue with the Lumians."

  "Of course not."

  "But who else would supply them with Lumian arms?"

  "We would . . . discreetly. And after Eskenderom's defeat and removal, would not

  Serethgin's gratitude lead it to support a claim by thee in turn to assume the

  Supreme Archprelacy within the new unified state that Kroaxia and Serethgin

  would become?"

  "Mmm . . ." Frennelech looked suddenly more interested. "And Carthogia also,

  after Serethgin regains the territory that rightfully belongs to it," he mused.

  "Exactly . . . And if we could arrange by some means for all direct dealings

  with the Lumians to be conducted through ourselves exclusively, the king of

  Serethgin would have far more inducement than Eskenderom to agree to a

  reasonable compromise on the sharing of power in any empire that might ensue."

  Frennelech smiled faintly. "Certainly our claim to being intermediaries between

  a higher form of mind and the world of mortal robeings would be indisputable,"

  he murmured.

  "Indeed so."

  Frennelech became more businesslike once again. "But could Serethgin be equipped

  and mobilized in time?"

  "How long did Kroaxia need to be equipped and mobilized?"

  "What reason could the king of Serethgin offer to his people for taking arms

  against Kroaxia?" Frennelech asked.

  "To defend their Waskorian brothers, whose faith Eskenderom is sending his

  armies illegally into Carthogia to persecute," Jaskillion suggested.

  "Hmmm—an appeal that would be rendered all the more persuasive after the

  Waskorians had gone over to Kleippur's side."

  "Precisely so. And Kleippur's insistence on freedom of worship for all is well

  known."

  "Would Kleippur accept Waskorian aid?"

  "He has been deserted by the Lumians; his soldiers have been defeated by rabble

  for lack of the weapons that the Waskorians possess; and now the survival of his

  entire nation is threatened. He will accept."

  Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside, and muffled voices sounded of a

  sentry at the door challenging and someone blurting a reply. A sharp rap sounded

  on the door. "Who knocks?" Frennelech called out.

  "Kelessbayne, O Illustrious One, sent by Chroschanor to convey urgent tidings of

  events in the city."

  "Allow him entry," Frennelech called to the guards. Kelessbayne entered and

  closed the door behind him. He looked flustered. "Well?" Frennelech demanded.

  "Groork, the hearer, has appeared again," Kelessbayne gabbled. "He calls himself

  Enlightener, and has entered the city riding on a steam-donkey, preaching words

  of faith that he says are the Lifemaker's. A multitude that grows larger by the

  moment, bringing its sick, its blind, and its lame, is following him toward the

  Central Square, where he says great revelations will be made known and wondrous

  miracles come to pass."

  Jaskillion was on his feet, his face tense with alarm. "What else has happened?"

  he snapped. "Have there been signs of dragons in the sky?" Kelessbayne was not

  among the few who knew the true nature of the Lumian vessels.

  "Not in Pergassos. But Groork speaks of awesome happenings in the Meracasine—of

  the whole Kroaxian army renouncing the ways of war, abandoning its weapons in

  the desert, and returning hither to spread a new, nonviolent faith of universal

  brotherhood."

  Frennelech groaned inwardly. It could only mean that the Lumians had chosen to

  back Eskenderom and were carrying out his plan to pass Groork off as a

  miracle-worker. "Is the army at the city also?" he asked weakly.

  Kelessbayne shook his head. "It is still an eighth-bright's march from the

  gates, if Groork speaks truly."

  "Was Groork present at these events that took place in the Meracasine?"

  "Such is his assertion."

  "Then how came he to the city so far ahead of any soldiers?"

  "He claims that to prepare the way he was borne ahead by shining angels who ride

  in creatures that fly beyond the sky."

  That was as conclusive as anything could be—the Lumians had brought Groork to

  Pergassos. There could no longer be any doubt but that they were in league with

  Eskenderom. "Is the King still away?" he asked Jaskillion.

  "He is," Jaskillion replied. Eskenderom was at Gornod, talking to the Lumians

  again; Jaskillion wouldn't mention the place in Kelessbayne's presence.

  Frennelech thought desperately. With Groork's arrival at Pergassos an eighth of

  a bright ahead of the army, and Eskenderom still away, was it possible that the

  Lumians could have miscalculated somewhere in their timing? If so, perhaps

  Frennelech could do something yet to make their victory a little more costly.

  From what he had seen of the Lumians' powers he could probably do nothing to

  change the final outcome if they had made up their minds . . . but, if he was

  going down anyway, he would go down fighting.

  "Collect as many of the Palace Guard as you can scrape together and send them

  immediately to the Central Square," he instructed Jaskillion. "Also, have my

  carriage brought to the side entrance and inform the guard commander that he

  will be under direct orders from me." He went back into his inner chamber to don

  his outdoor cloak.

  "What is thy design?" Jaskillion called after him.

  "I have a suspicion that Groork's behind-the-scenes miracle-makers might not be

  as prepared at this moment as they ought to be," Frennelech's voice replied. "If

  that should indeed turn out to be the case, I fear for him that this performance

  may well prove to be his last."

  The crowd filled the Central Square of Pergassos and had started to overflow

  into the surrounding streets as word spread around the city and onlookers

  continued to arrive. Trading in the market had virtually ceased as stallholders

  covered their wares and closed down, either to protect their stock or to give

  undivided attention to what was happening. At the focus of it all, the

  Enlightener, who had mounted the steps of the platform and speaker's rostrum

  built in the center of the square, was holding a tablet of ice above his head

  and sounding forth in a voice that rang with fervor and conviction. "I have

  climbed the mountain and seen the angels. I have flown in the skies and seen

  persecutors turned into baptizers. I have seen armies crumble at His command,

  for now it has been written, 'Thou shalt not kill.' "

  "Hear the Word that the Enlightener bringeth," one of the followers cried.

  "Hail to the Enlightener!"

  "We shall not kill!"

  "Let he who disobeys be cast into the slave pits," another shouted.

  "No!" the Enlightener's voice boomed around the square. "I say to thee that
<
br />   henceforth no robeing shall be a slave, one to another, for the Lifemaker's

  commandment is written, Thou art thy neighbor's equal.' Thou shalt not bow thy

  head nor bend thy knee before any that would proclaim thy inferiority to his

  worth, or demand the fruits of thy labors as thy duty to his station."

  "How, then, shall we accept the Carthogians, Master?" another asked.

  "Accept them as the soldiers of Kroaxia, once their sworn enemies unto death,

  have already accepted them—as comrades and brothers. No more shall robeing

  murder robeing, but all shall work together to gain wisdom and understanding

  until they are worthy to lift themselves into the skies and soar with the angels

  that appeared over the Meracasine."

  "What sayest thou, Master—that we too shall fly?"

  "Yes! Yes! All who have faith and believe in His Word shall fly with the shining

  angels, just as I have flown with them. This I promise you." The Enlightener

  could feel the mood of the crowd, its desire to believe, willing that it should

  be so. His eyes blazed, his skin shone in the light of the mid-bright sky, and

  the expression burning from his face radiated the ecstasy that he felt as the

  Lifemaker's force surged through every chip and channel of his being. He

  extended his arms to stand with his cloak spread wide above the crowd, and the

  crowd roared as the waves of rapture flowed outward from the center to break

  against the surrounding walls like methane breakers in a storm, crashing against

  ice cliffs at the ocean's edge.

  "All are equal. We shall not be slaves!"

  "We will work with our neighbors! We shall not kill!"

  "When will we see the angels?"

  The crowd's emotions were at a peak. The Enlightener sensed his optimum moment

  approaching. "I shall summon angels, and then every robeing will know I speak

  truly," he told them.

  That was more than any mystic had ever offered before. "Show us the angels!"

  they shouted back. "Summon the angels!"

  "I shall command miracles that you may know I speak truly?"

  "Show us miracles! Then we will know!"

  "THEN BEHOLD YE HIS POWER!" the Enlightener thundered, and with a flourish drew

  the praying-box from his pouch and held it high over his head. The whole square

  erupted in shouts of wonder, and then quietened expectantly. The Enlightener