The Dark Ascent

by Walter H Hunt

  "What the hell do they want? What's this all about? Where am I being led, and the rest of you, the rest of them"—she gestured toward the holo—"along with me?"

  "You want an answer to that?"

  "No. I don't know what I want." She stood up and walked off the bridge, and Dan watched her go, letting the pilot's chair slowly turn, following his gaze.

  "You know—" Pyotr began, but Dan held up his hand.

  "Yeah. I know," Dan said.

  Laura Ibarra leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. The chair responded to the pressure, gently reclining and adjusting to her new position.

  "Enable AI one-seven," she said to the air. A holo blurred into view on the desk before her, twelve centimeters high: a grayish green lizard with four arms, dressed in a bright-fuchsia bathrobe.

  "Ready for input," it said.

  "All right. Let's start again." Laura sat forward, shaking her head slightly as if to clear it. "Analyze audio clip six-four-seven, starting with time mark two-zero-zero."

  There was a slight pause. "Do you wish to hear the clip?" Laura had modified the artificial intelligence almost immediately after she'd installed it, forcing Standard speech patterns over the standard rashk ones; it was hard enough to deal with her superior's verbal skills in person—she wasn't going to put up with it in software.

  For a few seconds' delay, it was worth it.

  "Proceed."

  " '. . . —scabbard on my belt. Tell him—Tell him that Hesya won't get hold of the Sword of Shr'e'a again.' "

  " 'I don't understand.' " Laura's own voice.

  " 'I'm sure M'm'e'e Sha'kan will.' "—softer now, and footsteps as Laperriere walked away.

  " 'Commander, a w—' " The voice of that annoying Sensitive, Howe. Laura cut it off with a word to the computer.

  "Analyze content and meaning. Again," she added wearily.

  "Use cached analysis?" asked the holo, its arm movements mimicking M'm'e'e Sha'kan's.

  "Will the new results be any different?"

  Another pause.

  "According to existing configuration, the following parameters are considered: Transmissions; none received since last analysis. Database queries one-six, one-seven, one-eight complete: One-six yielded one result; one-seven and one-eight yielded no results. Other queries incomplete.

  "Use cached analysis?" the AI repeated.

  "Display results of successful query," Laura said.

  A holo appeared above and to the left of the little rashk-image. It showed four lines of zor-script, with the margin symbols indicating wing-positions.

  The annotations had been provided by Imperial Intelligence; subtle shades of meaning were sufficient for a zor reader. A translation of the text in Standard appeared below it.

  ACROSS THE SPINE OF SHAR'TU

  I WILL HUNT YOU [Warrior at Guard]

  BEYOND THE CLOUD-CAPPED PEAKS OF GAM'E'YAN [Honor to esLi]

  I WILL HUNT YOU

  YOU SHALL NOT HIDE FROM ME [Guarded Approach]

  AMONG THE BONE-SHEATHED TOWERS OF SHR'E'A

  OR WITHIN ITS BLOOD-SOAKED RUINS [Talon of Warding against esGa'u]

  BETRAYED LONG AGO.

  "Cheery. 'Bone-sheathed towers.' 'Blood-soaked ruins.'"

  "Contradiction, unless sarcasm was intended," the AI interjected. Rashk AIs—like rashk—had only a vestigial sense of humor.

  "This is the only reference to Shr'e'a in the database?"

  "Correct. However, there are numerous references to a close-match name: 'Sharia'a,' the name of a prominent fortress city on the zor homeworld."

  "Probability that they are the same?"

  A brief pause. "Ninety-four percent. This fragment appears in similar form, with different meaning, in a later recension. This version contains the form 'Sharia'a.' An etymological analysis reinforces the similarity."

  "Display the later version."

  YOU SHALL NOT HIDE FROM ME [Guarded Approach]

  IN THE SHADOW OF THE BONE-SHEATHED TOWERS OF MIGHTY SHARIA'A

  VICTORIOUS LONG AGO. [Honor to esLi]

  "The meaning is completely different. Are these from the same story?" Laura asked.

  "The probability is ninety-one percent that the two fragments are different versions of the same work."

  "Someone rewrote an epic poem and completely changed its meaning? When?"

  The holo displayed dates for the two poem fragments. Converted from zor reckoning and year measurement, they were roughly twenty Standard years apart. Both dates were thousands of years ago.

  "Correlate these dates with zor historical events."

  ". . . Six Standard years following the date of the first fragment is the accepted date of the Treaty of A'sakan, establishing e'Yen as the High Nest HeYen. Eight years foll—"

  "Stop. The first text is pre-Unification and the second is post-Unification?"

  "Correct."

  "Search for evidence of similar reworking of zor epics around this time, with particular reference to the name Sharia'a."

  "Time to complete, estimated at twenty-three seconds." The AI's arms moved rhythmically as the seconds ticked off, and Laura considered the possible consequences.

  At last the hands stopped moving and the AI spoke. "There is no evidence in the database of revision of other legends prior to zor Unification. The accepted version of seLi'e'Yan is believed to be based on an actual event that took place during the wars of Unification."

  "Summarize."

  "The fortress of Sharia'a was renowned for its warriors. During a particular period, the sorcerer Shrnu'u HeGa'u, a traditional enemy of the zor hero Qu 'u "—references appeared above the AI image, listing informational pointers on the Qu'u legend, on which Laura had already been briefed—"attempted to lure the defenders of Sharia'a outside of their impregnable walls, and worked 'magics'on them to destroy their morale. After they were roused to anger by a young warrior named Dri'i, the warriors of Sharia'a stood against Shrnu'u HeGa 'u. They had to—as the epic puts it—'Stand Within the Circle' while the lands beyond their walls were laid waste. Ultimately, the warriors of Sharia'a were able to emerge and help the forces of Light at a crucial point in the war, helping assure its victory."

  Laura stood up and took a turn around the cabin, thinking about what this might mean.

  "What is the significance of this epic to the zor culture? Is it held in as high esteem as the Qu'u legend?"

  "Insufficient data to determine relative esteem," the AI replied, waving its lower, and then upper, arms in some pattern that no doubt meant something to a rashk. "seLi'e'Yan is, however, cited as a pattern for warrior behavior. Dri'i is often cited as a model for a guard against rashness in the face of provocation. seLi'e'Yan is a standard part of the zor literary canon."

  "But there is evidence that the story on which it is based had a completely different outcome—and someone changed it."

  "Correct."

  She bit her thumb, thinking. "Play back audio clip six-four-seven, beginning at time mark . . . two-zero-six, and ending four seconds later."

  "' . . . my belt? Tell him—Tell him that Hesya won't get hold of the Sword of Shr'e'a again,'" came Jackie Laperriere's voice, followed by a single footstep. Then the clip cut off.

  "Shr'e'a," Laura said to herself. "Not Sharia'a. Definitely Shr'e'a. And we can only find one reference to it; and nothing at all about Hesya, whoever he—or she—is . . . Proceed with analysis of content and meaning."

  "Use cached analysis?" the AI repeated.

  "No. Recompute based on query results."

  "Supposition," said the AI, moving its arms in an undulating pattern—upper arms, then lower, then upper again. "Admiral Laperriere believes that an enemy—identity unknown to the Agency but known to her—seeks to gain possession of her sword. The term 'Sword of Shr'e'a' is in excess of ninety- percent likelihood to allude to the gyaryu.

  "Further, it is likely that the enemy is either associated with the Imperial fleet, the Agency,
or the Solar Empire itself. This predicate is determined from verbal tone and visual clues including defensiveness and anger, and corresponds with Admiral Laperriere's refusal to cooperate with requests for assistance with Sensitive training."

  "She thinks that the Agency, or someone within it, is this 'Hesya.' Probably M'm'e'e Sha'kan."

  "Likelihood eighty-three percent."

  Laura dropped into her chair, letting that sink in: Laperriere considered M'm'e'e—or perhaps the Agency—the enemy?

  There was an enemy, all right. It was out there, crashing into Imperial space: It had kilometers-long ships and could manipulate minds. The enemy was the one that Laperriere herself had found, somehow, when they'd tried to take Cicero.

  Something had happened to Laperriere, even since she'd visited M'm'e'e Sha'kan at Langley. M'm'e'e believed—correctly—that Jackie was following a path set out in a zor epic, but this path had evidently moved beyond The Legend of Qu'u. She'd been briefed on Qu'u, but was out to sea on this one.

  Perhaps M'm'e'e could sort this out.

  "Save analysis," Laura said. "End program."

  "I'm sure M'm'e'e Sha'kan will," Laperriere had said, when Laura had told her she didn't understand.

  If the Gyaryu'har of the zor High Nest thought of her own race as the enemy, M'm'e'e had better damn well know what it was about.

  Chapter 21

  T'te'e HeYen flew at top speed in response to the mental shout that had awoken him from a sound sleep. He heeded neither the branches that tore at his wings nor the courtiers and officials that crossed his path or could not get out of it.

  He arrived breathless with a claw near his chya in the High Lord's garden. Sa'a stood with her eyes wide, the hi'chya held out in front of her. She seemed to have just mastered herself, as her own claws were slowly and gradually relaxing their grip on the sword.

  She turned to face T'te'e as he settled into the Posture of Polite Approach.

  "No doubt I have awoken every Sensitive in the High Nest. Even the ones on other worlds," the High Lord said, after a moment. "Eight thousand pardons to you," she added, inclining her wings slightly; she was disturbed, but her wings held the slightest bit of amusement.

  "There is some . . . unease," he replied.

  "I can well imagine. I assume you felt it as well."

  "I feel the coming of the esGa'uYal. Perhaps not as clearly as you do, hi Sa'a."

  "You should thank the Lord esLi that you did not." She sheathed the hi'chya and walked slowly to a table. With great care she poured a small goblet of h'geRu and turned slightly with a gesture, inviting T'te'e to join her. "The enemy is coming to where the fleet is located: I could sense it, like a great black wave striking a shore.

  "But that is only part of it," Sa'a continued, sipping the blue liquid. "I felt Shrnu'u HeGa'u as well."

  "He is with the enemy fleet?"

  'That alone would be cause for concern, but would not . . . would not frighten me as my dreaming did. Shrnu'u HeGa'u is already among our own forces and has been there for some time. He is very close to his ancient enemy . . . to the Qu'uYar."

  "To se Jackie?" T'te'e asked. "She must know this from the gyaryu, unless—"

  "Unless the gyaryu can no longer be trusted," Sa'a said, finishing the thought.

  T'te'e walked to the table and took up the other glass of liquor. The idea chilled him, but he kept his wings impassive, waiting for the High Lord to continue.

  "si Qu'u"—she raised her wings in homage to esLi—"told us that the servants of Despite who had held the gyaryu were not able to interfere. There was a ribbon of colored light that he attributed to esLi."

  "se Jackie walked from the Fortress of Despite to this garden on such a ribbon when she recovered the gyaryu, and se Owen used a similar path to escape from the aliens' ship. The Gyaryu'har does not attribute this path to esLi, but rather . . ."

  The High Chamberlain seemed unwilling to finish the thought. Instead, he placed his wings in a posture of reverence to esLi and continued: "Mighty Qu'u within the sword is no more than a hsi-projection—he cannot know what has happened to the sword since he transcended the Outer Peace."

  "We have permitted this, se T'te'e." Sa'a tasted her h'geRu, looking at him across the goblet. "We have permitted se Jackie to fly this path, to enter this trap. The High Nest even summoned si Qu'u's ancient enemy back to the World That Is."

  "We chose this flight many turns ago, High Lord. We chose it long before se Jackie herself was chosen by esLi to fight this battle."

  "If she is not on guard, Shrnu'u HeGa'u can destroy her. And there are other enemies that will distract her."

  "se Jackie is always on guard, hi Sa'a." He placed his wings in a posture of respect. "She will be aware that Shrnu'u HeGa'u is near—and I pray to esLi that she will be ready for him."

  The vessels jumping into Josephson System registered on dozens of deep-radar sensors at once. Five hive-ships, each nearly three kilometers long, and dozens of outriders and lesser vessels, had materialized near the edge of the solar volume and were moving at more than a quarter of light-speed into the gravity well. The assembled fleet that opposed it had in excess of thirty ships of the line, along with two fleet carriers—many of them veterans of the recent actions at Thon's Well and Adrianople, along with a few survivors of Cicero.

  Admiral Hsien had arranged his elements into three squadrons. The first was a strong force on the Orionward side of the system, where any enemy was expected to appear; this group included eight frontline vessels and a screening force of four lesser ships (including Pappenheim) with the squadron flag aboard the starship Sheng Long, less than two years out of the New China yards.

  The second, stationed near the system's gas giant, was approximately the same size, and was supported by the fleet carrier Xian Chuan. The squadron flag sailed with the starship Emperor Ian, commanded by Commodore Erich Anderson. Fair Damsel and other screening elements were attached to this force, as well as Admiral Hsien's flagship, Gibraltar.

  The third was placed in the fourth orbital to defend an attack against the inhabited planet. Hsien's senior commodore Sean Van Meter commanded a somewhat smaller force from the bridge of Canberra, a ship that had seen every major battle of the war other than Cicero.

  As soon as the aliens materialized at the jump point, Hsien ordered his first squadron to intercept it. Ship-comms called all Sensitives to their ships' bridges and brought defensive-field modulations online.

  Though she could not know it, the image that came to Jackie as the ships hurtled into real-space was much the same as the one that had roared into the High Lord's dreams: a black wave crashing into a shore. In her mind's eye, though, the wave was high enough to overtake First Landing Hill and envelop the monument to Dieron's founders. Beyond it, she could see the solitary figure of her father, hands by his sides, standing stock-still—

  The bustle of activity on Fair Damsel's bridge brought her back to reality. Ray Li was intently working at the navigation station as the little merchant ship got under way.

  She heard her name being called—seemingly from a long way away.

  The gyaryu was out of the scabbard and in her hands. It was emitting a faint hum and it caught the phosphor light from overhead like a sliver of fire along its edge.

  "Jay," Dan repeated, the pilot's chair turned around to face her. "Jay . . . Are you all right?"

  "They're coming," she said absently.

  "No shit," Ray Li said, without turning around. It would've been funny if the situation weren't so frightening.

  "We've received a general scramble," Dan said, still facing her. "The field modulation is in operation. Are you—Is it—?"

  "I'm okay. They're out there, trying to—It's working, for now. What's happening?"

  Dan's face betrayed some relief. "Sheng Long and the forward squadron is headed on intercept. We're supposed to make for the gas giant and keep you close to the fight but out of the line of fire . . .

  "What are we supposed to do now?"r />
  "'Do'?"

  "Yes, do. Unless you tell me otherwise, I'm following orders. You have any other plans?"

  "No. No—let's go with whatever the admiral wants to do. I—I'm not sure as I have any better ideas."

  "Glad to hear it," Raymond Li said, still not looking toward her.

  "Shut up," Dan said to Ray. "All right, Jay, it's your play." He turned the chair back around to face the forward screen. The starfield slowly swung by, with the distant gas-giant a reddish blob half-lit by the system's primary.

  She placed her hand on the hilt of the gyaryu, watching the planet gradually grow forward. Sergei? She asked, sending her mind toward the gyaryu—

  Suddenly, the scene changed.

  She was standing in a flagstoned courtyard. Around her were several eights of warriors of the People, armed with chya'i and bone recurve bows. Others were scattered around the courtyard, perching or lying down, some gazing open-eyed and senseless toward the sky. The aura of despair was palpable and almost impossible to shrug aside.

  The gyaryu was in her hands in this vision as well. This is an illusion, she thought. I am on the bridge of Fair Damsel. But the scene didn't change.

  She looked up. An orange sun bloomed through dark, blood-red clouds, and was reflected off the pale, yellowish towers above. Beyond the walls, she could feel something terribly wrong that twisted her insides.

  "Sharia'a," she said, to no one in particular.

  Two zor were operating the great gate mechanism. The double-width gates began to swing open, heightening the feeling in the pit of Jackie's stomach.

  "No," she said, again mostly to herself. "Shr'e'a."

  The zor around her were all tense as well, looking from her to the gate and back. They must see me as one of the People, she told herself; this was millenia before the first contact with humans. Of course, she thought: She was back at Shr'e'a, just as in Owen's Dsen'yen'ch'a. The towers were pale and yellow because they were tiled with the bones of warriors defeated by the Shr'e'a'i.