Pathspace: The Space of Paths

by Matthew Kennedy

  The Captain gave him a sympathetic half-smile. “Well you can tell him we've had a few problems, but with a little patience, we'll get it done.”

  Jeffrey sighed. “My father,” he said, “is not a patient man.”

  Chapter 74

  Lester: “And time yet for a hundred indecisions”

  Lester put down the book he had been reading, a book about ancient motorized armies led by a man with an abbreviated mustache. “If the Honcho has anything like the stuff in here, we're in big trouble.”

  Xander took a bite from an apple and chewed before answering. “Try not to worry. Powered vehicles could be an advantage, certainly. But he's never used them before. If he succeeds in Rado, the experience will make it easier on him as he continues to expand his Empire. But he won't.”

  “What makes you so sure of that? We've got some cannon that have to be hauled around by teams of horses, taking forever to position and move. He's going to have guns that roll around by themselves wherever he wants to take them!”

  The old wizard ate more apple. “We're going to have some surprises for him,” he said. “And the thing with technology is, the more complicated it is, the more things there are to go wrong with it. For example, all it takes to stop a car is a potato.”

  Lester stared at him. “What?”

  The engines of the Ancients,” Xander informed him. “require an exhaust for the burned fuel vapor as well as an intake for air. Block either one, and the engine won't run. Shove a potato in the exhaust pipe of one of the old automobiles and it's useless, unable to vent the exhaust.”

  “You're planning to run around behind his vehicles with a bag of potatoes?”

  “No. It was just an example. You'd be surprised how easy it is to disable high-tech systems with low-tech meddling. The more complex a system, the more weaknesses it has. The process with more steps has more places in which it can fail – or be made to fail.”

  “Then how does nature succeed? Aren't biological processes more complicated than anything humans have ever built?”

  Xander finished the apple. He picked a seed out of its core and showed it to Lester in his hand.. “Actually, pieces of nature fail all the time. See this seed? It could become an apple tree, and make thousands of more apples. But it can fail. It can fail because of drought, disease, overcrowding, lightning, fire, floods....or simply because it never ends up in in the ground.” He picked out the rest of the core's seeds and tucked them into a pocket of his robe. “Parts of nature fail all the time. But the entirety of nature, by which I mean life on Earth, it goes on year after year.”

  “Could all of it fail, like our civilization crashed after the Tourists left?”

  “Oh, certainly. The Sun could get too hot or too cold, or asteroids could hit us and render the entire globe lifeless. But the difference between nature and Civilization is, it doesn't need people to make it work. We've forgotten how to build computers, but seeds never forget how to become trees.”

  Xander tossed the empty apple core into a box by the table where they threw food scraps to save them for composting in Aria's garden. He rose from his chair and reached for his staff. “Its time for us to help prepare for the invasion.”

  Lester pried himself out of his own chair. “Aren't the Governor's officers doing that already?”

  Xander smiled without sadly. “They think they are,” he said. “But we're going to need more than they can come up with. To stop the Honcho, we're going to need more than horses and arrows this time. Swords won't stop his tanks.”

  “But we don't have our own tanks, or fuel. How do we beat him?”

  “By being smarter. By using what we do have that he doesn't.”

  After that the old wizard fell silent until they reached the armorer's smithy near the ground floor. Unsure of their destination, Lester finally understood when he heard the ringing of a hammer on iron. By then he'd already figured out what Xander meant. What did they have that the Honcho didn't? Magic.

  But what good would that be? He could lift a rook or a pawn into the air, but he was pretty sure that he couldn't flip over a tank with his pathspace. He doubted Xander could either.

  The head smith, was adjusting the swizzle on the side of his forge as they entered, his strong hands stroking the pipe, fine tuning the temperature of the coals. He looked up at the sound of the door. “Ah, there you are,” he grunted. “Wondered when you'd be by.” He glanced at Lester. “So this is your latest apprentice, eh? Hope he makes a difference.”

  Lester heard the ringing of the hammer again. Turning, he saw a pair of the smith's strikers placing some kind of circular die over a sheet of metal, whacking it with their hammers to cut out a seemingly endless series of metal discs that another assistant was putting into open boxes.

  Xander saw him looking at the discs. “I'll handle making the everflames,” he told Lester. “You take that stack of pipe in the other corner and start making swizzles.”

  Chapter 75

  Aria: “After such knowledge, what forgiveness?”

  Soft feet in supple leather boots pounded the stairs as she descended and ascended, searching. She did not know where the thought had come from, but now that it had, she could not relinquish it. No, that was a lie, a lie she was telling herself. She knew perfectly well where the thought had come from, the thought that had roused her from an unaccustomed nap in her gardens, where she had set her little rake and watering can down and just lay down in the scent of the blooming roses.

  She had opened her eyes with the thought stirring inside her, clear but unacceptable. She almost laughed at her dismay. What would it change? Nothing. Everything! It could not change the past, and yet somehow, it did. She had not yet decided how it should change the future.

  Undeterred by guards, Aria burst into her mother's chambers, full of the outrage and moral arrogance of youth. “Is it true, Mother?”

  Kristana looked up at her, surprised by the seldom-used title as much as by the interruption. Aria could see the Governor was at it again, stroking the General's sword with a whetstone, an old oiled rag by her side on the mattress. A meaningless activity, sharpening the sword of a man who had been dead for years.

  It had been owned by the General. By my father. But was he?

  “Tell me it isn't true!”

  Kristana wiped the sword one final time with the rag and hung it back on its peg on the wall behind her. She regarded Aria. “It might be easier to do that,” she said, “if I knew what you were talking about.”

  Aria's chin jutted. “I'm talking about my father.”

  Kristana patted the mattress beside her. “Sit down for a minute. We need to talk.”

  Aria stamped her foot. “No, you need to talk,” she said. “I went to see Daniels yesterday to talk about preparations for the invasion. I was going to suggest we start stockpiling blood in coldboxes, so that we'll be able to help when our soldiers get wounded.”

  Kristana just folded her hands and waited.

  “He'd already thought of it. There were soldiers all over the place, reading and chatting with the nurses while they donated blood for storage. And do you know what the good doctor said, when I offered to join them?”

  “I can guess. But go ahead, tell me anyway.'

  “He said he was glad to see me, because only Xander and me have this certain blood type, and he couldn't ask Xander to donate, since he was still recovering from his close call. In fact, he said he was hesitant about asking me, because he'd already taken some of mine recently, to help Xander when he was so close to dying.”

  Kristana's gaze was calm and steady. “So?”

  “Mother, what was the General's blood type?”

  Kristana didn't bat an eye. “A positive. But that's not really what you came here to ask me, is it? Go ahead, ask.”

  Aria stared at her calm, then rallied. “I'm not the General's daughter, am I?”

  Kristana shook her head. “No, you're not the Governor's daughter. And to answer your real question, yes, Xande
r is your father.”

  Aria felt her eyes welling up with tears. “But why? Why did you lie to everyone about it? And how could you? How could you betray the General like that?”

  “Sit down,” Kristana repeated. And this time, she did, collapsing on the mattress beside her mother, but not touching her. “Why? Why did you do it?”

  “First,” said the Governor, “it wasn't a betrayal. The General was dead. How you came to be, well, that's not hard to figure out. Xander helped me through a rough time. I needed someone to lean on, and he was there. We'd known each other for years; he's a good man.”

  Aria was quiet for a moment. “All right,” she said, slowly. “You were sad and lonely. I can see that. You needed emotional support, I can see that too. But the timing! I was born barely nine months after the General died.” She glared at her mother. “it sure didn't take long for you to move on.”

  Kristana jerked. Aria had the feeling her mother was resisting the urge to slap her.

  “Xander and I liked each other for a long time,” Kristana said. “But we were both smart enough not to do anything about it, while the General was alive. I loved my husband, and neither of us would do anything to undermine his image as the ruler of Colorado. Once he...once he had passed, however, that consideration was moot.”

  “Then why did you keep it a secret? Why didn't the two of you marry?”

  Kristana sighed. “We talked about it. I wanted to. He's a good man. But Xander talked me out of it.”

  Aria stared at her. “He didn't want to marry you?”

  “Actually, he did. But try to understand. The General had just died, and everyone was looking for someone to hold it together. Looking to me. If I'd married Xander, then instead of a Governor or a General, people would think that some weird magician was running the country. It wouldn't have worked, dear. We'd have had civil war. The officer's wouldn't have taken orders from Xander, and probably not from me, either, since they'd have thought he was pulling my strings like a puppet.”

  Aria was shaking her head, her fists clenched, but she didn't interrupt, so Kristana went on. “Your fa-- the General, he had been grooming me to take his place, believing that I could keep the Dream alive. So I did.” She paused. “Xander settled for being my loyal advisor, and you became a symbol of hope, a remnant of their beloved General. That's what we decided to give the people. Hope. It wasn't easy. If you'd been a late birth, it might not have worked. But you weren't. You came early, just early enough that we could let everyone think that the Old Man had been strong enough, even near the end, to father a child.”

  “But it isn't true! It's all a lie!”

  “Yes. But try for one moment to think about Rado, instead of your family and your conscience. What was better for the people who depend on us? The truth would have helped no one. The lie helped the country go on without a civil war.”

  Aria scowled. “It's still a lie. Don't you care about the truth? How do you sleep at night? Doesn't it bother you, lying to your own people?”

  Kristana sighed. “More than you know. But I made my peace with it. It's just another of the sacrifices I've had to make over the years. Maybe I don't always feel good about it, but what we avoided would have made me feel even worse. All of the General's plans, all of his preparations for me to take his place...it was all for Rado. Try to put yourself in my place. What would you have done? Told the truth and felt all warm and cozy, proud of your honesty, watching everything the General built fall apart in a bloody power struggle?”

  She opened her mouth to shout YES! But then her mind heard the end of her mother's sentence and she closed her mouth again. What would I have done, really? “But now you're trapped,” she complained. “After all this time, you still can't tell them, can you?”

  The Governor of Rado frowned. “No,” she said. “I still can't. Even though we made it through the crisis of succession, all those years ago, and it makes no difference now, I still can't tell them. There's always another crisis, like the Honcho's upcoming invasion, and I can't let everyone be distracted by feelings of betrayal and outrage.”

  “So that's it? You're never going to tell the truth about it?”

  “I just did, to you.” Kristana looked off to one side, remembering. “Oh, yes maybe I can make a deathbed confession, something like that, for the history books. After you've taken my place, that is. I can't possibly say anything until then. We'd have the same problem as before – a civil war. They're not ready to accept the daughter of a wizard as the next Governor. But the daughter of a legend, the daughter of the General, well, that's another thing entirely. His success attached itself to me, and you'll inherit that mystique. You can keep the Dream alive.”

  “How do you know I won't tell them?” A thought struck her. “What about the doctor? Have you sworn Daniels to secrecy, too? Does anyone else know?”

  “No one else knows, except Daniels and Xander himself, and we're going to keep it that way. Daniels won't say anything. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something he believes in, and he'll keep the secret for us. I had a conversation with him, a little like this one, years ago. He's accepted the situation.”

  Aria put her face in her hands. A legacy based on a lie? Was that what she had been raised to take on? How could she do it?

  But the real question, she realized, was: how could she not?

  Chapter 76

  Brutus: “Neither fear nor courage saves us.”

  He walked out of the hospital room, concealing his bandage under a Stetson. His head still throbbed when he exerted himself, as he was doing now, climbing the stairs to the Honcho's offices.

  He tried not to think of the cause of it, that damned Rado wizard who'd snuck up behind him at the rail-banger station, No time for that now. He would let the rage simmer out of sight, like a blacksmith's forge banked for the night, the ash-covered coals lying in wait for another day's work. The rage would be there when he needed it. He'd teach the bastard what real pain was.

  Martinez was waiting for him with a shot of bourbon. “How's your head?” the Honcho asked him, after he'd taken a swig and seated himself in front of the leader's desk. “Ready for some payback?”

  “What you got in mind?” Brutus asked, tossing down the rest of his drink. He couldn't see the point of sipping the stuff, not when its best work was done in the gut, not the nose.

  “We need to try out the new motorized weapons in Abilene. By now, Rado knows about them, but they're counting on us to wait until spring before we attack.”

  “And you're not going to.” Brutus allowed himself a smile.

  “Hell no. Not giving them that long to prepare. If we give them enough time, who knows what that wizard of theirs might come up with. We're not going to find out, because we're not waiting. But the boys need some practice, I'm sure, and with all that we're expecting from them, I think it would be better to have a seasoned officer in charge.”

  He looked at his empty glass. “Not sending your son?”

  The Honcho grimaced. “I need him there too, and that's another thing we need to talk about. I know you two don't get along.”

  Brutus's face twisted. “That's putting it mildly. The word I heard is, he wanted to bring me up on charges. Me! How am I supposed to do my job with him behind me worrying about every farmer we run into?”

  Martinez looked at the bottle, then back at Brutus. “We both know he's young and full of opinions about how things should be done. He hasn't seen the things you and I have, so I won't deny he gets himself worked up about things that don't bother old soldiers like us.” He paused, as if weighing his words. “But he's still my son, and someday he'll be sitting at this desk. I need you to make peace with him, Colonel. Maybe he doesn't know it yet, but he'll need you when that time comes.”

  “He's a hothead, that one. What do you expect me to do if he loses his temper and draws his sword? I know technically he outranks me, but even so, I can't let him push me around too much in front of the troops. You know that. Bad for discipline
.”

  Martinez sighed and poured them both another glass of the bourbon. “No one said it was going to be easy,” he said, after they both swallowed. “You're my best field commander...but he's my only son. I need you you to make it work. I don't expect you two to be friends, but I can't have you fighting in front of the troops. No good will come of it. Keep the peace.”

  “How?”

  Here the Honcho shrugged. “Distract him. He thinks the two of us are obsolete, so let him play with something that isn't. Put him in charge of one of the tank crews. That should give him plenty to learn and focus on.”

  Brutus finished the second glass. “It might,” he granted.

  “It has to, for now. Once the invasion starts, he'll have enough to keep him busy. Let him get a couple of real battles under his belt, and you two might not be so far apart in viewpoints any more. War has a way of putting personal squabbles in perspective, once the arrows start flying.”

  Brutus set his glass down. “I won't be the one to start trouble,” he said. “I can be in Abilene in two days, unless you need me to really push the horses.”

  “That's fine. There's no rush, yet. And I'll be having a talk with Jeffrey before you leave, Colonel. I'll make it clear to him that you're in charge of the men. His job will be to learn how to use the new weapons, so he can pass it on to the junior officers.”

  “What do you want us to do with 'em?”

  Peter appeared to relax, now that they could talk soldiering and not personal shit. His finger came down on a spot on the map on his desk, and Brutus leaned forward to get a better look.

  “This town's abandoned, but most of the buildings are still standing. You'll be using them for target practice. Leave nothing standing.”

  Brutus frowned. “One of our own towns? Shouldn't we head over the border into Zona and take out one of theirs, instead?”