The Dark Ascent

by Walter H Hunt

  "Jackie Laperriere is too damned levelheaded to follow this legend, especially considering its ending—which I've read, sir, right to the last stanza. I'm guessing she has, as well. She's not suicidal, ha Chamberlain; she knows how the legend turns out by now."

  T'te'e settled his wings into the Posture of Polite Resignation. Again, he thought. Again you have underestimated a naZora'e. You underestimated se Jackie and now you are ill-prepared to deal with this Captain Maartens.

  You have dealt with envoys and diplomats too long. The naZora'i understand so little of us and we know so little of them.

  The esGa'uYal are counting on that: If we cannot choose the same flight, we will be destroyed each in detail.

  "In the legend," T'te'e said at last, "the hero Qu'u ascends the Perilous Stair to the Fortress of Despite. There he sees the gyaryu awaiting him, unguarded and seemingly unprotected. Without the spirit-guide or his faithful Hyos to advise him, he takes up the sword and achieves esHu'e'Sa, the Dark Understanding."

  "And esGa'u points his talon and blasts him into next week."

  ". . . Yes," T'te'e answered, reasonably sure that he understood the captain's unusual expression. Diplomatic training had not prepared him for the onslaught of colloquialisms with which he had been bombarded. "Because of the attack of the Deceiver, the great hero transcends the Outer Peace. Yet his willingness to undergo the journey alone, to face the challenge of esHu'e'Sa, to have the courage to transcend the Outer Peace on the Plain of Despite—within the Fortress itself—causes the Lord esLi to extend His mighty Talon and draw him from out of Despite to come within His Golden Circle."

  "esLi saves him."

  "That is what I said," T'te'e replied, working to keep annoyance from his wings.

  "You believe esLi is watching out for Jackie. Have you convinced her of that, as well? Does she think that He will save her at the crucial moment?"

  The High Chamberlain assumed the Posture of Honor to esLi. "I do not know, se Captain. I do not know what se Jackie believes. She is a warrior, and will take the warrior's part.

  "Eight thousand pardons," he added, after a moment. "I follow only the orders of hi Ke'erl in this matter. I do not believe he takes into account that you and the other actors in this drama are not of the People. You cannot reasonably be expected to accept things as they are, merely because the High Nest directs it."

  "I didn't ask for an apology, se Chamberlain," the captain said, "only an explanation."

  "You deserve both."

  Maartens nodded.

  T'te'e assumed the Stance of Contemplation and continued: "Your friend . . . our champion, for such she is . . . was foreseen many years ago. She has been sent to retrieve the gyaryu."

  "se Sergei's sword."

  "The sword that he carried, yes. It is a powerful talisman and dangerous in the talons of the esGa'uYal. She is alone now: Her companion was slain in her travels."

  "'Her companion'—Ch'k'te?"

  "si Ch'k'te m'Sath's ehn HeYen." The High Chamberlain's wings descended to a posture of sorrow. "He has transcended the Outer Peace."

  "Damn." The High Chamberlain sensed a great disquiet in the human captain. "Where is Jackie now?"

  "On the Perilous Stair," T'te'e answered, and realized immediately that the answer would not suffice. "She is— She is very close to the gyaryu, perhaps on the same world."

  "What world?"

  "I do not know, se Captain. It is not within the scope of my wings."

  "ha T'te'e." Maartens leaned back in the chair. "I have one more question before I go to see the High Lord. How critical is Jackie's success? Does this upcoming battle even matter if she fails—if she's captured or killed?"

  "She must not fail."

  "That's not an answer, damn it. Tell me, ha T'te'e. Is this lure for the enemy anything more than a diversion? If she fails and we somehow win the battle, is it meaningless?"

  "She must not fail, se Captain. That is all I can say."

  "Then I would suspect that this interview is done. I—"

  Maartens' final reply was interrupted by a bosun's whistle. "All hands to Quarters," said a voice from comm—the Officer of the Watch. "Captain to the bridge, acknowledge."

  "Maartens here," he said, exchanging glances with Suzanne Okome. "Report."

  "Enemy vessels near Adrianople jump point, Captain. Incoming orders from Admiral Stark."

  "I'm on my way. Maartens out." He stood and looked at the High Chamberlain. "It looks like you'll be our guest for a little while longer, sir. Would you care to come to the bridge?"

  T'te'e HeYen turned, in a single, fluid motion. "I would be honored."

  Chapter 7

  IN WAR . . . THERE ARE ROADS WHICH MUST NOT BE FOLLOWED, ARMIES WHICH MUST NOT BE ATTACHED, TOWNS WHICH MUST NOT BE BESIEGED, POSITIONS WHICH MUST NOT BE CONTESTED, COMMANDS OF THE SOVEREIGN WHICH MUST NOT BE OBEYED.

  —Sun Tzu, The Art of War, VIII:3

  Between Port Saud and Cle'eru—where the officers of the Negri planned to reenter Imperial space—there was an argument. The argument was regarding the identity of the Negri Sembilan, and whether it was a good idea to retain that identity even after the ship was back within the Empire.

  Those who had decided the Negri should change its name—a court-martial felony—believed that the bugs had infiltrated the Empire and would be waiting for the ship when it turned up again. Rafe Rodriguez belonged to this group; the experience on Port Saud Station had spooked the big man, and he argued that the last thing they should do would be to turn up anywhere and advertise that they were there.

  Owen was in the other camp. His time on Center and Port Saud had convinced him of two important things: First, that the news of their seizure of Negri Sembilan hadn't gotten much beyond Center; and second, that it was fairly clear the bugs weren't all on the same side. There wasn't much chance that any of the factions were in any hurry to side with the Solar Empire—much less the crew of Negri Sembilan. In the end, they decided to leave the ID alone.

  It took three days for Negri to go from the Port Saud jump point to Cle'eru transition. They had chosen Cle'eru because it was within the Empire but under the administration of the zor High Nest; a defense squadron and an Imperial consul were there, but the communications between the Admiralty and the High Nest were such that they might not be aware of the recent history of the Negri. The proximity of Adrianople Starbase might offer some protection, as well—it was unlikely that Cle'eru had fallen to the bugs. Still, no one aboard the ship was taking any chances; as Negri approached jump transition, all hands were at battle stations, and the ship was ready to deploy defensive fields and execute an emergency jump to get out of there.

  Transition was uneventful. To their relief, comm picked up system traffic control right away; Cle'eru System had a complex navigational profile—two asteroid belts and lots of cometary and meteoric debris. Negri was guided to a station at the jump point.

  "And we're going there why?" Dana Olivo asked.

  "To take on a local pilot," Owen said. "Check the Negri's comp. Just about nobody flies into this gravity well without help, except maybe a ship of the line. We're not equipped."

  "The comp says that Cle'eru has a defensive squadron. The pilot's board doesn't show anything bigger than a defense boat, and there are no military IDs at all, human or zor."

  "Yeah, fine. Point taken. Our info is out-of-date. We're taking on a local pilot to guide us into Cle'eru System."

  "And then—"

  "And then, I guess, we find the consul and we hand over the Negri, and this whole adventure is over. What we've seen should be pretty valuable to the Admiralty."

  The local pilot was a zor, which was no real surprise. He was crippled: his wings didn't seem to move properly and they didn't settle perfectly over his shoulders. Instead of the usual fluid grace, the zor walked with a slight limp; he slowly came onto the bridge and stopped, as if he were sniffing the air.

  Owen was standing near the pilot's board looking at the holo of
Cle'eru System. Even with Negri's navcomp, he wouldn't have wanted to navigate the place without a local pilot.

  "se Captain," the zor pilot said, making his way slowly down the ramp to the pilot's seat. Owen considered correcting the title, then thought better of it and just stepped out of the way.

  "Welcome aboard," Owen said.

  "I am K'ke'en," the zor answered, giving Owen only the merest glance and then focusing his attention on the board. "We can get under way when you are ready."

  Just like that, Owen thought. "As you wish, Pilot."

  K'ke'en gave a heading to the navigator. "Ahead one-quarter, se Helmsman," he added. The ship began to move off toward the inner system.

  "So tell me," Owen said. "Where's the squadron?"

  "It is gone," the zor answered. His wings moved slightly, as if he wanted to enhance his comment with some gesture, but couldn't quite finish it.

  "Gone? Where?"

  "Outsystem. The squadron went to help."

  "To Adrianople?"

  "No," K'ke'en said, looking at Owen for a moment before returning his attention to his task. "No. Adrianople is said to have fallen. It was not possible to defend it."

  "Why?"

  "The Eight Winds blow where they will," K'ke'en answered. "This news seems to come as a surprise to you. I do not know why, but curiosity is a trait beloved of the Lord esLi, so I will ask: Did you not know of this, se Captain?"

  "I did not."

  "Ah." K'ke'en looked at him again. "Negri Sembilan has been traveling through the Plain of Despite for some time, has it not?"

  He said it matter-of-factly, as if it were self-evident. Owen wasn't sure what the term meant exactly, but it seemed obvious what the zor referred to.

  "We have been cut off for some time."

  "Do you search for the Perilous Stair as well?"

  "'As well'?"

  "The High Nest chose a champion to search for the Perilous Stair and to ascend it. Do you search for it as well?"

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "Do you seek the recovery of the gyaryu?"

  "What's a gyaryu?"

  "The Talon of State."

  "The sword? The one that the old man carried?"

  "Yes."

  Owen looked across the bridge at Dana Olivo, who was standing at the engineering station, his arms crossed in front of him.

  He shrugged his shoulders at Owen.

  "No, we aren't looking for it. Who's this 'champion'?"

  "A naZora'e warrior. She was here, but now she is near, or perhaps climbing, the Perilous Stair."

  "'She' . . ."

  "She was accompanied by her Hyos."

  Owen looked baffled; he hadn't the faintest idea what a "Hyos" was.

  "se Ch'k'te HeYen," the zor added. "The name of the naZora'e is beyond this Nestling's ability to pronounce."

  Owen had already reached a conclusion, as soon as he'd heard Ch'k'te's name. "Laperriere. You're talking about Commodore Laperriere."

  K'ke'en didn't reply, but inclined his head very slightly.

  "That doesn't sound like the commodore to me," Owen said.

  "'That the sound is alien is the fault of the ear, not of the voice.' Much has happened while you traveled through the eternal war. What was fixed is now changed."

  "That's almost cryptic enough to be meaningless. If you have something to tell me, tell it." Owen was more upset with his own impatience than anything else.

  K'ke'en didn't speak for several moments, then he settled his wings as best he could and said, "The language used to convey information is chosen according to the subject. In matters of legend, it is easiest to use the context of the legend to explain it—this is simply the Law of Similar Conjunction. The legend is why your commodore was here. It is why you are here."

  "I still don't understand."

  K'ke'en shrugged. "Perhaps it is not intended that you should. But your commodore does; she has chosen the flight of Qu'u, to seek the sword taken by the esGa'uYal. Her path led her here to Cle'eru to ask the advice of my Master; she then departed Cle'eru System in pursuit of her quest. I assumed she had remained aboard her original vessel, but I was later told that she and her Hyos had joined the crew of a merchanter. I never spoke with her, though she was only a few meters from me as I piloted the vessel out of Cle'eru System."

  "'Master'? Who is your master?"

  K'ke'en spoke a course correction to the helmsman. "The sage se S'reth," he said, after a moment. "I understand that he will not be returning."

  "Why not?"

  "It is because . . ." K'ke'en looked at Owen, his eyes full of emotion. "se Captain, on the Plain of Despite there is a place called Ur'ta leHssa, or the Valley of Lost Souls. The Deceiver will send People to that place, where they are condemned, trapped forever without even knowing they are trapped. Cle'eru is soon to become a part of the Plain of Despite, and Master S'reth did not wish to be here when it happened."

  "What about you? Don't you want to get out, too?"

  K'ke'en leaned forward, enough to partially raise his wings. It was a further mockery of the grace with which zor usually expressed themselves. "I am here to convey knowledge to you, se Captain. Master S'reth instructed me thus: That the one who would come to Sharia'a would find his way to Cle'eru System, and that it was my honor to help him along his way.

  "This is my place," he added. "If it is on the Plain of Despite, so be it. The Lord esLi knows where I am. But you should not remain here any longer than necessary."

  None of it made much sense to Owen. "I'd hoped to speak with the Imperial consul," he said.

  "Indeed." K'ke'en's shoulders sagged, as if the weight of his wings was far too great. "I regret to say, se Captain, that she, too, saw the wing of esGa'u—the consul closed her offices and departed several suns ago. I suspect that she, too, will not be returning."

  Mass-radar across Thon's Well System was registering three enemy ships of immense size, and a number of smaller ones. For those that had survived the contact at Adrianople, the scan data was frighteningly familiar: huge, compartmentalized vessels with immensely powerful energy-output curves and extensive weaponry. Their course and heading indicated that they had jumped from the direction of Adrianople.

  Maartens reached the bridge with T'te'e HeYen beside him. The watch crew seemed surprised by the appearance of the High Chamberlain and his escort, but took it in stride; Maartens took the pilot's seat and looked over the board. HaKale'e, Samos, Decatur and Kenyatta—the four capital ships that had been deployed at the jump point when the Pappenheim had transitioned to normal-space only hours before—were nowhere to be seen.

  Admiral Stark had already issued orders to the ships on-station. Xian Chuan was under way on an intercept course; Mandela and Nasser were on the same heading, with the four Broadmoors seconds behind. They were deepest in the gravity well and accelerating at high speed toward the Adrianople jump point: Fortunately, the third-orbital gas giant was currently at opposition. The Emperor Ian-class ships, led by Erich Anderson's ship, were just leaving orbit; they were a quarter of an orbit away and had almost as far to travel as the carrier and its escorts.

  The Hangs were beginning to form up at the fifth orbital but had the farthest to travel, as the planet was in conjunction with the jump point and they would have to cross Thon's Well System to engage.

  The ships at the sixth orbital were in the teeth of the invaders, as that gas- giant was directly at opposition to the Adrianople jump point. There were seven other zor vessels nearby, along with the Pappenheim and the other ships under its command.

  Nest HeYen was already at turnover, decelerating toward the jump point alone.

  Maartens hadn't received orders to move, just to deploy defensive fields. He wasn't ready to put the Pappenheim or anything else under his command in plane-of-battle; a Wallenstein-class might take on the smaller vuhl ships, but he was in no hurry to do so.

  Maartens looked at the High Chamberlain and then back at Suzanne. It was quiet on the brid
ge of the Pappenheim.

  The Nest HeYen crept closer to the incoming vuhl ships.

  "You have an explanation for this, ha T'te'e," Maartens said, without looking at him.

  "I do not know, se Captain. I am not surprised that the esGa'uYal have appeared, but . . ."

  "But you didn't expect Nest HeYen to take them on alone." Maartens gestured at the pilot's board. "The carrier is more than an hour downrange; the Emperor Ian and her pals might be ten or fifteen minutes behind.

  "Nav, how long before the zor flagship is within firing range?"

  "Two minutes," the navigator said.

  'Two minutes before they're in range of the vuhl ships, one against three. No one will get there to back them up. What the hell is going on?"

  Maartens swung his chair around to face the High Chamberlain, who had taken up a position a few meters to Maartens' left. Suddenly T'te'e cried out and reached up to his own head. His talons were extended; he crouched, his wings rising around him. As Maartens watched, the High Chamberlain's chya flashed from its scabbard and was out in front of him, giving off a perceptible glow.

  Maartens was out of his seat in a few seconds. The zor guards were faster: They encircled the Chamberlain and had their swords drawn and pointed outward before the captain could take a second step. Maartens found himself in front of a zor, the business end of a chya pointed at his chest.

  "What's—" he began, but he stopped as he heard, or seemed to hear, a loud humming or buzzing sound. It was obvious that others on the bridge heard it as well, and that it was rapidly rising in volume and strength.

  "Comm, shut that off!" Maartens shouted, covering his ears.

  "It is not on comm," the High Chamberlain said, as he stood upright again, seemingly with some effort. Two of the zor stood by and supported him. He held his chya tightly out in front of him. All of the zor weapons had taken on a pale glow that seemed unchecked by the phosphor lighting on the bridge.

  As the swords began to glow with even greater intensity, the sound reduced. At last the blades were like lances of orange fire and the bridge was nearly silent.