Horst, welcome to Darien!
Video (variable functionality) Even louder
applause breaks out again and the president moves
his wheelchair back a few feet. The ambassador
smiles and as he steps forward the crowd quietens
down to an expectant hush.
AMBASSADOR HORST:
From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for this
warm and generous reception. It is a privilege and
an honour to stand here before you as the per-
sonal representative of Erica Castiglione, president
of Earthsphere, for the colony you have made here
in the face of such hardship is proof of the
indomitable spirit of Humanity!
[Applause]
The discovery of Darien Colony is of great impor-
tance to all the peoples of Earth, not least because
the fate of the three colonyships has been an unre-
solved enigma since the defeat of the Swarm a
century and a half ago. We know that each ship
was under orders to flee the Solar System by
taking random hyperspace jumps, which is why
the destinations or whereabouts of the other two
ships, the Forrestal and the Tenebrosa, remain a
mystery.
Of course, the original colonisation plan con-
sisted of fifteen ships, most of which were partially
complete when the Swarm invaded the Solar
System. Those first unprovoked attacks slaugh-
tered millions across our world and destroyed
many of those vessels, which is why your fore-
bears became the first to depart Humanity's home
on such a desperate mission.
It would be difficult to overstate the intensity of
interest in Darien that is gripping Earth and all
the Human communities across Earthsphere.
Indeed, both the Migratory Service and the
Diplomacy Office have been inundated with
requests from Russia, Scotland and Scandinavia
from those wishing to make contact with long-lost
branches of their families. This will involve a con-
siderable amount of work, matching records and
DNA, but we'll begin this as soon as possible.
I feel I should at this point give you an outline
of the wider interstellar situation and Darien's
place in it. Your world is very far from Earth,
almost 15,000 lightyears, and in your immediate
vicinity are a host of civilisations with which
Earthsphere has had little or no regular contact.
Fortunately, the dominant power in the area is one
of Earthsphere's allies, the Sendruka Hegemony,
which has promised to maintain peace and stabil-
ity in the region, thereby safeguarding Darien's
independence and sovereignty. And in order to
establish good relations without delay, a very
senior representative of the Hegemony - High
Monitor the Exalted Utavess Kuros - is on board
the Heracles and will be coming down to meet
you all tomorrow.
Yet despite the great distances involved, there
will be many opportunities for aid and trade
between Darien and Earthsphere, as well as other
markets in the area. In addition, your contact with
the Uvovo and the subsequent cooperation is
bound to be a source of fascination for xeno-spe-
cialists and other scientists across civilised space.
You may not be aware of it yet, but Human com-
munities enjoy excellent relations with many
different sentient races, an experience you will
soon be able to share as friendly civilisations in the
vicinity apply to open embassies here.
That is all that I have to say for now. I know
many of you have hundreds of questions to put to
me, but I intend to provide answers at a full press
briefing to be held tomorrow afternoon in
Hammergard. So let me once again thank you for
your heartwarming welcome and I look forward
to speaking with you tomorrow.
8
KUROS
High Monitor the Exalted Utavess Kuros watched as
Horst and the Darien president left the platform to a
chorus of futile shouted questions. There were others
studying the screen in the Heracles's lowlit lecture theatre,
his personal bodyguard of eight Ezgara commandos.
Quad-armed forms in dark blue body-armour, they sat in
the front row, silent in close-fitting helmets, faceless,
motionless.
And one other, visible only to Kuros.
'7 mislike these Humans,"1 the General said. 'They are
a disrespectful and undisciplined rabble riddled with
dissidents who spread poisonous speculation through
their media, which is lamentably unguided. Even after
an alliance lasting nearly eighty velanns, they still have
not learned their place, or shown any devotional
progress, and these colonists are sure to be even worseV
Kuros smiled at his lifelong companion and AI mind-
brother, General Gratach.
'Then you agree that they present something ot a
challenge?' he said in his thoughts.
The General folded his muscular arms and Kuros
heard the metallic rustle of armour platelets. In keeping
with the real, historical Gratach, the AI was attired in
the battledress of a senior Abrogator officer of the Three
Revolutions War, an ornate harness of gleaming gold
and red, with powershield spikes studding his arms and
shoulders, each one bearing a small votive pennon, silver
lettering on black. His helmet had a bronze sheen and
was plainer, its moulded circlet of chusken skulls offset
by the tactical eyepieces that sat poised at eyebrow level,
ready to swivel down.
'Challenge,' grunted Gratach. 'Only in terms of the
Hegemony's immediate interests - militarily, the colony is
insignificant.'
Kuros nodded, thinking back to his audience with
the Fifth Tri-Advocate just hours before leaving Iseri, the
Sendrukan homeworld. Clad in austere grey, the Fifth
had been sitting in a high-backed overpod, flanked by
holograms of his mindbrother advocates, against a
backdrop of translucent curtains. He had questioned
Kuros on the Darien task dossier which he had received
less than a day before. Satisfied with Kuros's grasp of
the essentials, the Fifth had then offered his observa-
tions.
'We note that the bulk of your record is divided
between Boundary Sector 12, where you held the post of
Second Suppressor, and the Pothiwa Conformation,
where you led several trade delegations. Hopefully, you
will only need to draw upon the latter experience in this
assignment. You will find that Humans are sentimental,
especially about military events and achievements: help-
fully, their governments routinely employ such
sentimentality to mask historical details and to maintain
doctrinal integrity as well as popular support.
'You should make frequent reference to the friendship
between the Hegemony and Humans, mutual coopera
tion and shared values, even though these things an
largely illusory And be aware of media surveillance at
all times: take no action and make no disclosure that
may betray our interest in the ruins of the Ancients.
Devise spectacles to divert the attention of both the
media agents and the colonists . . .'
Then one of the AI advocates had turned in Kuros's
direction - its image was that of the Avulser Hegemon
Moardis, a gaunt, golden-eyed figure attired in a rich
red robe whose collar supported an array of black ver-
tical spikes that curved round the back of the head.
Moardis was the Hegemon who, 400 years ago, had
fought off the clandestine invasions of the Ghaw para-
sites and eventually eradicated them and th i
neighbouring civilisations that they had subverted. Onlv
the most powerful of AIs were allowed to adopt the
image of such an illustrious Hegemon.
'Much depends on this mission, Utavess Kuros. If
you succeed, the future security and glory of the
Hegemony will be safeguarded in Voloasti's name for
generations to come, such is the nature of the power
that awaits us - do you know what it is called?'
'A warpwell, Your Immanence.'
'This is not the first we have investigated, but it
may be the first to be found still functioning. If so, the
Hegemony will have a gateway into the lower
domains of hyperspace. When we control them, we
can deny any foreseeable adversary the strategic scope
to become a threat. Peace and glory shall be our
legacy'
The Fifth had spoken again. 'Prepare yourself thor-
oughly, Kuros. Pray to Voloasti for protection and
guidance. Plan for all eventualities. Let nothing be a
surprise to you. Use the media agents against your
adversaries or even against themselves. Ensure a tri-
umphant outcome, and fame, honour and riches will be
your reward. The Hegemon himself has promised.'
And all through the audience, the second AI advocate
had kept silent, its form that of a coiled, iron-scaled
ocean mohoro, a mighty yet enigmatic creature from
ancient Sendrukan mythology. While the other advo-
cates had talked of glory and honour, the mohoro had
simply stared at him, red-jewelled eyes fathomless, jaws
parted to show triple rows of silver fangs.
Now, as he stood in the dimness of the lecture the-
atre, he reflected upon that encounter and knew that the
mohoro's relentless gaze had spoken of the retribution
he would suffer if he failed.
But there will be no humiliating blunders, he thought.
Nor any bitter bones of defeat. I shall steer events,
rather than be steered by them.
He considered the images on the screen, segments
showing the Earth ambassador's answers to certain
questions and switching back to the studio commenta-
tors, all sound muted. He smiled faintly as his purpose
became a little clearer and glanced at the General.
'While the full glare of media interest is focused here,
we cannot afford the luxury of deploying overt force to
secure our objectives. We must apply a certain subtlety.'
General Gratach sneered. 'Subtlety! These media
insects may buzz and chatter but their stings can still be
a threat.''
'Of course,' Kuros said. 'In every circle of life there
are ruthless adepts, thus in our dealings with them it
will pay to be subtle, especially since we Sendrukans .
have a reputation for directness.' He gazed thought -
fully at his Ezgara bodyguards. 'And if we steer the
correct events, we shall gain indirect control by creating
a situation in which our direct actions would appear
normal. From there it is a short step to neutralising
them altogether.'
'So what is to be our strategy tomorrow}' the General
said. 'Sing the insects and the savages to sleep}'
'Yes - flattery, charm, a dose of anti-Swarm lag-
waving, an appropriate measure of self-deprecating
humour to encourage trust, and after that normalisation,'
'And if that fails to work in the short term}'
Kuros smiled. 'Voloasti will guide us, old friend.
Indirect control is still control.'
He turned to the Ezgara. Eight visored faces were
looking his way, blue-armoured, still and waiting, all
seemingly identical apart from the nearest, who wore an
officer's flash on his temple, a small white triangle.
Nothing about their posture betrayed any inner state of
mind, but Kuros knew what lay hidden behind those
masks.
'Captain,' he said. 'I have a lengthy and demanding
assignment that will require two of your most adaptable
warriors.'
'By your command, Exalted,' the Ezgara captain said
in a flat voice, then pointed at two of the remaining
seven; without a word they rose and moved out to stand
before the High Monitor. They only came up to Kuros's
shoulder, yet he knew that for ferocity and single-minded
devotion to duty the Ezgara were unmatched. Then he
began to explain the details of this special and undoubt-
edly dangerous assignment, while off to one side,
General Gratach smiled his approval.
9
LEGION
On Yndyeri Duvo, the Kiskashin line-pirate was experi-
encing a glow of pride in his mercantile skills. He had
managed to resell the Human colony report (tagged
with some Human cultural profiles) to a wandering
Vusarkan academic, a Piraseri market haruspex and a
Makhori scholar with an obsession for all things
Human-related. There had been other interested par-
ties, but he decided against further delay in relaying it o |
Lord Mysterious. Besides, new merchandise was con
tinually arriving: time might be a function of the
space-entropy continuum but it was also money, thus
money was intimately bound up with the structure of
the universe. As he delighted in explaining to the client;
and customers to whom he turned his attention as the
Human colony report flashed away through the local
systemnet to Duvo's sister planet.
Off the western coast of Yndyeri Tetro's single massh e
landmass, something stirred in the depths. The waters
sparkled and teemed with life all the way from the
shallow shoreline out to the continental shelf, until
they plunged into descending gradations of shadow,
increasingly turbid realms of oceanic gloom thinly pop-
ulated by rare grotesque creatures. Only a meagre
radiance reached the lower depths, reducing jutting
features to vague, blurred outlines, yet a ragged trench
gaped there, a sheer-sided fissure full of ancient, impen-
etrable night. And down, further down, where the last
vestiges of surface light died in the intense darkness,
where a cold, crushing pressure threatened oblitera-
tion, down there amongst unseen, undisturbed debris,
an awareness stirred.
But it was an awareness without consciousness, an
awareness of the environment: sea temper
ature, tides,
currents and the presence of threat-level objects passing
above or below sea-level. Awareness of the subjective
physical, the balance of mechanical and organic, and the
entropic state of both, which was not good. Objective
assessment of repair and regulation systems, and of over-
all integrity, which was well below optimum. And
awareness of the information that trickled in via its recep-
tors from time to time, of the ancient biocrystalline
matrices which deconstructed, analysed and searched for
matches to an array of images in two, three and four
dimensions as well as any linguistic equivalents. It was a
search that the awareness had repeatedly and tirelessly
undertaken for centuries upon centuries, without a single
instance of success.
Until now, when the memory buffer received a data
packet detailing the discovery of a lost Human colony
world called Darien.
The awareness stripped the Darien report down to lists
of phrases and words, and stacks of images: its analytic
processes sorted them into levels of potential meaning,
discarded the obviously trivial, then sorted through the
visual data. When it came to the stills and motion images
of some ruins which the Humans had uncovered near
their settlements, additional processing capacity was
quickly brought online as the images were examined
down to extrapolated resolutions. The awareness devoted
more resources to the analysis, and when it was finally
certain it opened pathways in the biocrystalline matrices
and let power from the duality core flood through then1.
Tailored glands were stimulated, capillaries relaxed,
and enzymes leaked into the heavily shielded organic
cortex. Synaptic transfer spread through neural nets dor-
mant for long ages, opening up level after level,
augmenting the awareness, feeding a burgeoning bright-
ness . . .
And he awoke to the steel pains of his aged, wounded
body, lying on a cold seabed on an alien world in an
alien universe. He knew that his aeons-old purpose and
duty must have come round at last, otherwise he would
still be sleeping, and that was a joy which in some ways
helped him to endure the torment of old, old injuries. But
when he reached for the memories of when and how he
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