Webdancers

by Brian Herbert

  His thoughts were very dark. Just before departure he had received a report that the HibAdus had enslaved trillions of Humans on every merchant prince planet with the exception of the two where the defenders were still holding out. He hoped, at least, that this had not worsened, and that he was not too late.

  “Odds unknown,” Thinker said. “Not enough data on the enemy.”

  “The people of Canopa and Siriki have fought bravely,” the Doge said. “We can’t abandon them to the HibAdus when they’ve shown such determined resistance.”

  He felt his blood pressure rising from the frustration of how long it was taking to cross space. Then a comlink transmission came from General Nirella: “On final podway approach to Canopa system, sir. With luck, we’re only a few minutes away.”

  “Any evidence of a timehole in the vicinity?”

  “The Tulyans are checking on that. No report from them yet.”

  “Visual confirmation that we are approaching Canopa, sir,” Thinker said. Even at the extreme speed of the podship, he was rapidly accumulating data on the star systems they were passing.

  Anton steeled himself, wondering what awaited them. It could be a carefully laid HibAdu trap, and the same held true for Siriki and Dij.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  There is no such thing as a perfect secret.

  —Adurian admonition

  It required a considerable amount of bravery for the guests to have come here, to Lorenzo del Velli’s opulent gambling hall on the Pleasure Palace orbital station. At any moment, HibAdu forces could reappear from space and blast the facility into oblivion.

  Of course, Pimyt knew otherwise. He just smiled to himself as he stood listening to the nervous chatter around the long diceball table. On his right, Lorenzo stood at the head of the table watching the game, occasionally interjecting to regale his guests with gossip-laden conversation. This gray-haired old man might have been deposed as Doge of the Merchant Prince Alliance, but he still retained his memories of many of the interesting noblemen and ladies in the realm. And if he had trouble remembering some of the details, he made some up in convincing fashion.

  Though he kept it undisclosed in such company, Pimyt had been leading a hectic, though fascinating, life himself. If anyone ever wrote about the events and compiled them, his secrets would fill numerous thick volumes.

  “The enemy could strike from any direction,” one of the noblemen said, looking around nervously at the wide view of space they had from the glax-walled main casino on the top level of the space station. Dozens of the Doge’s defensive ships patrolled the area, but Pimyt knew how paltry they would prove against any real attack. So, it seemed, did a number of the guests.

  “Just being here is rather like a game of chance, wouldn’t you say?” Princess Meghina observed from her place opposite Lorenzo. As beautiful as ever, the blonde courtesan was a constantly smiling, perfect hostess. She sipped red wine from a crystal goblet, and asked, “Do we feel lucky or not?” Beside her, Meghina’s pet dagg emitted a low growl. She petted the large black animal.

  “But what if the luck for any one of us has run out?” a giddy noblewoman asked as she rolled the diceball and watched it bounce from obstacle to obstacle on the table. Her hair was coiffed in a high bun on her head, and adorned with glittering rubians and saphos that cast prismatic red and blue light around her head. “What if it’s you, Lorenzo?” she asked, looking at him. “You’ve always had quite a run of good fortune.”

  The automated table tallied her score, and three gold chips popped into a tray in front of her.

  “Until forces conspired to remove me from office,” he snarled. “Don’t delude yourself. I’ve already had my share of misfortune. No, it isn’t my luck that would run out.”

  The gamblers bantered and quipped around the table, as they tried to figure out who among them might either be ready to lose their luck, or who might be a Jonah that could bring bad fortune on the entire orbiter. Then the subject of conversation changed, and they talked about dagg races many of them had attended earlier in the day, at the recently completed race track that encircled the bottom level of the space station.

  Pimyt tuned out their voices. His HibAdu conspirators had made powerful military strikes against every Human and Mutati world, and had overrun all but three of them. Ironically, Pimyt was now in orbit over one of the unconquered planets, Canopa, aboard Lorenzo’s space station. For several days, fighting had been fierce down on the surface, and in the air and orbital spaces over the planet … but had since died down. For a time, Lorenzo had suspected him of being one of the conspirators, but Pimyt had convinced him otherwise. And the Hibbil’s credentials, especially as a former Regent of the Merchant Prince Alliance, gave his word considerable weight. All Hibbils and Adurians were not against Humans, just because some were. For the time being Pimyt’s story had been believed, but would he need to take extra care in the future to avoid detection.

  Through good fortune or divine salvation, the space station had been spared thus far. Or so the defenders thought. In reality, Pimyt had played a behind-the-scenes role in that, having convinced his superiors that it was a useful facility, worth saving. To preserve it as a prize of war, he’d made certain that HibAdu forces launched only token attacks against the facility, so diminished that Lorenzo’s own ships had been able to drive them away.

  But even after all he had been through and all he had accomplished, Pimyt had never met any of the HibAdu leaders, nor did he know anyone who had. Prior to the emergence of the HibAdu Coalition, the Hibbils and Adurians had been ruled by their own planetary councils and committees, with largely ceremonial heads of state. That was all suspended with the onset of the HibAdu military buildup, which took precedence over prior forms of government. Now the Hibbils and Adurians were one political and military entity.

  Most of Pimyt’s associates, such as the Adurian VV Uncel, said they did not care if they ever met the HibAdu leaders in person. To Pimyt, though, it had always seemed peculiar that the coalition high command only distributed audio recordings of themselves delivering inspirational speeches, and had never made personal appearances to the public or to the armed forces. While their names and titles were known—High Ruler Coreq, Prime Lord Enver, and Warlord Tarix—no photos had been disseminated of any of them. Sometimes, in his wildest visions, Pimyt’s thoughts would run amok and he would imagine that the leaders were not what they seemed to be … not Hibbils or Adurians.

  Of course, he constantly assured himself, that was not possible.

  Jolting Pimyt to awareness, the floor suddenly shuddered beneath his feet. Gaming pieces rattled on the table and slid off in a series of increasingly loud, crashing clatters. He heard an explosion, and the shouts and screams of his companions.

  * * * * *

  Noah experienced dual realities, the pleasant sensation of the soft podship chair around him, but the suspicion that it might have drawn him down like quicksand into Timeweb. Normally, he might have welcomed a journey into the paranormal realm. On numerous occasions he had attempted to enter it himself through varying doorways that always seemed to open of their own volition. Now, unexpectedly, he had been drawn in at a time when he could least afford it.

  If he didn’t wake up quickly, it meant he had essentially gone to sleep on the job. Not like him at all. Noah had always been a hard worker, but now as he considered the prospect of going back, he suddenly felt very tired—the fatigue of an entire lifetime weighing him down.

  Here in Timeweb, on the other hand, he had an odd sense of exhilaration and tremendous energy, that he could journey on and on through the cosmos, like a stone skipping forever across a very, very broad pond.

  His motion through space slowed dramatically, and just ahead he made out the Canopa Star System and its largest planet, the homeworld of the Merchant Prince Alliance. As if his eyes were a holocamera, Noah zoomed in on the planet. He searched for the timehole he had seen in an earlier vision, and didn’t see it. But beyond Canopa, space
was murky, with a peculiar fog that he found troubling.

  Abruptly, time seemed to go in reverse, and once again Noah was a small boy living in the Valley of the Princes, on his father’s vast estate. A redheaded girl ran toward him, calling his name. “Noah! Noah!”

  For an instant, he hesitated. Then he answered her back with her name. “Francella! Where have you been?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m back.” Francella smiled sweetly, prettily. Her dark brown eyes glittered.

  Like long-lost siblings, the two children hugged. Noah felt the warmth of her embrace.

  When they withdrew and he looked at her he saw that she was pointing in wonder at the sky, her eyes open wide in astonishment.

  Noah looked up at a vault of grayness that was dissipating, like a thinning fog. Through an opening in the vault he made out the faint green filigree of Timeweb against the backdrop of space and glittering stars. Then his vision zoomed in, and he saw his former space station orbiting Canopa, now the home-in-exile of Lorenzo del Velli. Seeing the facility again gave Noah a warm, comfortable feeling. He still thought of the orbiter by his own original name for it, EcoStation, even though it had been substantially changed after the merchant princes took it away from him and Lorenzo turned it into a gambling casino.

  His gaze searched in the vicinity of the space station, and to his alarm Noah detected a crack in the fabric of the webbing, a fine line running through the green threads that stretched larger and larger and widened, until he could identify the defect as a whirling timehole, with the blackness of eternity visible beyond. The stygian hole pulsed on its luminous green edges like a living thing. It grew in size until it dwarfed the space station, which drew close to it, as if pulled by a magnet.

  In a previous vision, Noah had seen a huge timehole in the vicinity, and now it seemed apparent that it had diminished in size for a time, and then had re-enlarged. Through the luminous perimeter of the opening, he saw a view of space beyond that looked like the blackest place in the entire universe.

  * * * * *

  Inside the glax-walled gambling hall, people screamed and cried out in pain as the space station rolled and tumbled, and the onboard gravitonics system failed. Meghina’s dagg barked and whined. Pimyt tried to find something stable to hold onto, while avoiding being hit by the loose, heavy objects. He grabbed the edge of the big gaming table. Something slammed into his left hip, and a sharp pain lance of shot through his body.

  Everyone tumbled over in a deafening crash of sound, as the table, guests, and chairs slid against the viewing windows.

  * * * * *

  In what seemed to Noah like a nightmare instead of reality, EcoStation vanished into the galactic maw in a bright green flash. He gasped in horror. A shift in the strands of the webbing ensued, and the timehole sealed over, so that Noah could no longer see it.

  He awoke, and found himself back in the soft chair in his office. The chair, part of the podship and created by it, pulsed around his body, as if massaging him and trying to draw him back into it.

  But Noah leaped to his feet. He shouted for Subi Danvar, and moments later he saw the rotund adjutant standing in the doorway.

  “Everything’s ready,” Subi said, as if nothing unusual had happened.

  Glancing at his own wristchron, Noah was surprised to see that only a few minutes had passed since he’d taken the break. It hadn’t done him any good, and he didn’t feel rested at all. But he had no time to consider such matters, and he couldn’t worry about EcoStation. That was not his mission.

  From deep inside, he drew strength, and hurried with Subi to the passenger compartment of the flagship, a room they had converted to a command center for the fleet.

  Arriving there in the midst of his officers, Noah told an aide to send a message to Anton about what he had seen. Then he shouted, “On to Siriki!”

  In a matter of moments, the command was transmitted to Tesh in the sectoid chamber. The vessel—named Okion since ancient times—accelerated toward the podways.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  All battles are not won by those who seem to prevail on the field and are left alive. Sometimes, it is better to have died the quick way.

  —General Nirella del Velli

  After emerging from space, Webdancer flew toward Canopa, in bright light from the system’s yellow sun. In the command-bridge dome atop the sentient vessel, Doge Anton stood with his wife and supreme military officer, General Nirella.

  “What’s that?” he asked, pointing ahead. Not far from the planet, a green flash lit up space, then vanished.

  “Give us a reading,” Nirella said, to a junior officer who sat at one of the consoles.

  “Lorenzo del Velli’s space station disappeared,” he said. “It looks like one of those timeholes the Tulyans need to fix.” The officer conferred with a Tulyan woman who wore a red MPA uniform like his own, then added, “Timehole confirmed.”

  “Noah was right,” Anton said.

  “Notify the Council of Elders,” General Nirella said to the Tulyan. Nodding, the reptilian woman pressed a hand against the filmy window surface, thus putting her in telepathic contact with Tesh and the podship. From Tesh, the message would be relayed to another vessel in the fleet and to a Tulyan webtalker, who would then tap into Timeweb for a transmission to the starcloud. The Elders had already assigned an eco-repair team, and were undoubtedly aware of the confirmation. But this was too important to assume anything.

  “Now enter the atmosphere,” Anton said.

  The Tulyan transmitted the instruction to Tesh Kori, who caused the Aopoddae vessel to dip toward the atmosphere. Some of the other ships remained behind to patrol space, while the majority followed the flagship in a series of “v”-formations that looked like immense flying wings.

  Comlink reports flowed as the fleet made contact with military and civilian authorities on the ground and in the air. The defenders reported that battles had subsided in this vicinity, but that the HibAdus had been using a variety of deadly weapons, including warheads filled with Adurian-developed plague viruses. Fortunately, medical personnel on the ground had the situation under control, so the fleet command made arrangements to land.

  Five kilometers above the surface of the world, one-quarter of the trailing formations broke away to form patrol sections in the skies. Anton saw one of the formations chase the podships of a HibAdu squadron—small, dark gray aircraft that were much smaller than podships, with orange cartouches on their hulls. The pursuers then divided into smaller formations and fired cannon shots at the fleeing craft, sending bright orange tracer fire through the sky. Several hit their marks, and explosions erupted in the air like fiery red flower blossoms.

  The main body of Anton’s fleet continued downward. At the vanguard, Webdancer circled the cliffside metropolis of Rainbow City, then flew down into the Valley of Princes and set down on the main landing field. Hundreds of the other ships followed, while others found additional landing sites at nearby commercial and industrial sites.

  As Anton disembarked on a ramp, ahead of Nirella and Tesh, they were greeted by two MPA officers in red-and-gold uniforms. On either side, hundreds of soldiers stood at attention, and beyond them sprawled the towers and structures of the field.

  The tallest MPA officer saluted. After introducing himself as Vice-General J. W. Hackson and a dark-skinned officer with him as Kajor Avery, he said, “Sire, thank you for coming to our aid. As I said over the comlink, there is much death here, and not all from battle wounds. The HibAdus spread plague and other biological scourges before we succeeded in driving them off. So far, our medical personnel have the illnesses under control, but we’ve had to devote tremendous resources to the problem.”

  “Any quarantines?” Anton asked.

  “Not necessary any more. CorpOne research personnel have identified the biologicals, and have already distributed antidotes.”

  “Some of the enemy are still in the vicinity,” Anton said. He heard Nirella on the comlink
behind him, getting reports from the air-and-space patrols.

  Presently she reported: “Not much activity. Enemy is on the run.”

  “We didn’t kill anywhere near as many HibAdu ships as we saw,” Hackson said. “They’ve been preparing for a counterattack, but it might not come now that you’re here. How many pod warships did you bring?”

  “Twelve thousand.”

  The Vice-General smiled. “That should keep ‘em at bay.”

  “Maybe not. Our best robots have calculated that it must have required hundreds of thousands of enemy ships to conquer so many Human and Mutati planets. We may have slowed them down a bit here, that’s all.”

  “But even outnumbered, we’re still better than they are,” Hackman said. “We already proved that here, and your forces can only help.” He looked back, and motioned for a square-jawed man to step forward.

  “This is Doctor Bichette,” the Vice-General said. “He runs the CorpOne medical research division, and has come up with capsules to immunize you from the HibAdu diseases. He will be coordinating the treatments for all of your officers and soldiers.”

  After shaking hands with Anton and Nirella, the doctor looked past them and said, “Hello, Tesh.”

  “Hurk.” Her reply was icy.

  “We used to know each other well,” Bichette said to the Vice-General, with a curt smile.

  “He was the personal physician for Prince Saito,” Tesh said. “Noah Watanabe’s father.”

  Following an awkward silence, an aide to Dr. Bichette handed out packets of capsules to Anton and his entourage.

  After taking the medications, Anton, Nirella, and Tesh boarded a survey aircraft, along with Hacket and Bichette. Thinker accompanied them, as did other top MPA and Liberator officers. Their civilian pilot flew them away from the valley and the city, out toward the coast.

  Below, on a broad field bordering the sea, Anton saw tens of thousands of bodies and the burned-out hulks of warships from both sides of the battle, including the rotting remains of dead podships.