Of Fire and Night

by Kevin J. Anderson

  A jewel-winged creature sped past her eyes, swirled, and then shot off in a different direction. Fleshy comptor lilies bloomed, shedding a perfumed sweetness as thick as mist. Enjoying the verdant beauty around her, Nira touched Jora’h’s hand with her rough fingers and wondered what it would be like if their two separate minds could touch through telink or thism.

  “I know you long to reconnect with the worldforest. But though I control this Empire, I cannot help you.” Nira could feel sadness emanating from him. “All the treelings were destroyed. Every one of them. That is the truth, and I am ashamed. Long ago, my father killed the ones you and Ambassador Otema brought with you.” He looked away. “Recently, though, Queen Estarra from Earth brought me another treeling. I kept it in my own quarters. I used to stare at it and think of you.”

  Nira sensed his uneasiness. “What happened to it? Where is it now?”

  “I destroyed it.” He let the confession hang in the air. “There is another green priest in the Prism Palace, part of the Hansa skymining crew from Qronha 3. He lost his own tree during the hydrogue attack, but he sensed the treeling in my private contemplation chamber. He tried to break in. He wanted to send out a telink message, which would have been disastrous at that time. To remove the temptation, and the risk, I destroyed the treeling. I am sorry, Nira, but I could not allow him to reveal our plans. There was too much at stake.”

  “More likely he just wanted to touch the worldforest mind,” she said, her voice cool. This was what he had been afraid to tell her. He had killed a treeling, and now she remained cut off, just like that other green priest. “So all the treelings on Ildira are truly dead.”

  “Yes. But let me show you what I have left.”

  He led her to where the terraced dirt was strewn with large fragments of wood, like a rock garden made from chunks of demolished trees. Some of the lumps had been crudely shaped and carved, others merely sanded to excise external charring. Immediately recognizing the grain, color, and sheen, Nira hurried forward, her face full of longing. “This is worldtree wood!”

  “A Roamer trader brought them to me. His clan members assisted your world after the hydrogue attack and were given this wood as thanks.”

  Nira’s shoulders sagged. She had come to Ildira as a young acolyte, but she had been gone for many years and was unaware of so many incredible events. Until recently, she had not even known about the devastation of the worldforest.

  Jora’h held a piece of the polished wood up to the light. “I asked the trader to give me every scrap he had. Because the wood reminded me of you.” He handed it to her. “I did not know what to do with it, so I kept it here, where I would see it often.”

  Wistfully, she knelt, resting the worldtree wood on her knee. The smooth chunk, though dead and silent, felt comfortable in her hands. She touched the strangely familiar wood and traced the feathery grain, followed the contours of splinters and flat surfaces, searching for a warmth inside. Nira let her thoughts flow, longing for any kind of connection. Hoping for something.

  Though this wood was dead, the worldforest mind itself was still intact, still dispersed across the forest. There must be some way she could touch the rest of the vast network. During her long isolation, she’d feared that she might be deaf to telink. She had yearned for the touch of the worldforest as much as she yearned for Jora’h to come to her.

  Now, though she heard the background noises of small birds and butterflies, rustling leaves, rushing water from fountains and irrigation misters, she heard nothing inside her head. Nothing.

  Beside her, Jora’h sat as motionless as a tree himself, waiting, not sure what she was attempting to do. Nira saw his expression of deep pain, hope, and sorrow for her. She closed her eyes, concentrating only on the worldtree wood.

  She recalled her youth as an acolyte, enamored with stories, loving to sit high in the canopy and read aloud to the trees. When she was chosen to become a real green priest, Nira had gone alone into the densest worldforest, and the verdani had claimed her, swallowing her up in the living underbrush. She had emerged with green skin and an unbreakable link to the worldforest mind. At least she had thought it was unbreakable.

  Nira squeezed the wood in her hands, plunging her silent mind into the woodgrain. She had never needed to work to establish telink before, had never considered the exact process. It had always just . . . happened. She didn’t know how to force it. She had grasped at any hope. But that was gone, too.

  Without opening her eyes, Nira reached out and grasped Jora’h’s hand as tears began to flow from beneath her closed eyelids. She took comfort from his touch, though she knew there was no hope of forming a mental bond like the one the Mage-Imperator shared with his people through the thism. He could not connect with her, any more than she could connect with the dead wood now.

  She felt a spark like electricity. Faint, like heat lightning in the distance . . . but definitely there.

  She clenched her hand, letting her fingers press hard into Jora’h’s skin. Something about the contact with him was helping. The spark grew brighter, and suddenly she felt a tiny echo deep within the worldtree wood.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Nira did not respond, but concentrated furiously, following the faint thread, burrowing into the thick wood with her memories. Although this tree itself might be dead, all worldtrees were connected. Startled, she looked down to where her free hand had been tracing the burned edges of wood, sure that she could now feel the bloodsap moving, stirring. Something was changing, and somehow Jora’h’s powerful control of the Ildiran thism had aided her. A small gasp of awe escaped her lips. She had broken a new path!

  In a barely audible voice, she whispered, “Please—hold me,” and pressed both of her palms hard against the wood, making as strong a contact as possible. She felt him put his arm around her shoulders. There!

  “Jora’h, I can sense a change . . .” He held her tightly, increasing their bond.

  But it wasn’t just her telink, or just the Mage-Imperator and his thism. Something new and incredible was happening with the verdani—all of them. Right now on Theroc, a deep part of the worldforest mind was awakening, just as hers was. The thoughts reached out, straining upward until they shot like a bright flare into the night sky. Nira didn’t know what had triggered this new burst from the heart of the worldforest, but she felt the effects of the resurgence rippling across the Spiral Arm.

  In her hands, the chunk of wood shifted. A knot thrust up, a hard lump that split . . . and shot forth a fresh sprout. Before her eyes, it grew into a tiny pale frond. How could that be? This dead wood had come to life again, through her! The frond was barely as long as her index finger. But it was enough.

  Nira touched it. In a flash, she reconnected with the worldforest. Finally!

  Gasping, falling, she drowned in an amazing flood of information. She poured out everything that had happened to her over the last eight years. In a rush of images and painful memories, she dispersed her knowledge. Nothing could stem the outburst of her thoughts.

  When she was done, every green priest and all the worldtrees across the Spiral Arm understood everything.

  105

  BENETO

  Beneto had always been part of the trees—both when he was human and after his absorption into the worldforest. Since his rebirth on Theroc, he had shown the forest what it meant to walk, to move, and to live. The verdani understood much more about what it meant to be human now, to be a living independent being with sorrow and joy.

  And Beneto understood many things, as well. Most of all, he understood that he had found the rest of his destiny. The worldforest mind had given him a new life, resurrected him to be a spokesman and intermediary with an understanding deeper than any green priest could achieve. It had also given him a second chance with his life, with his family. Now he would willingly pay the price they asked of him.

  Encased within the verdani battleship, his wooden body sacrificed even its human shape. He was rooted once mo
re. His carved hands fused like clay to the living wood that was energized with wental water. His legs melted into the forest tissue, and he sank into a swirling vortex of woodgrain.

  Even as he grew into the structure of the massive treeship, he retained part of himself. Immediately after his rebirth, Beneto’s connection to the world and his beloved family had been tenuous and intellectual. Back then, he would not have hesitated to make the sacrifice. Now, though, he felt the loss to his very core. To his heart. Thus, so did the worldtrees. He would miss being alive. . . .

  Aboard the swarm of new-grown verdani battleships, his fellow new green priest pilots were all symbiotically fused with their enormous tree forms. They had let their flesh-and-bone bodies be absorbed into the enfolding wood, while leaving their minds still alert, carrying human personalities. After a thousand years or more, they would begin to lose their individuality like those poignant ancient creatures who guided the original treeships. Though these volunteers were giving up a great deal, Beneto also knew how much they would gain. In the end, they would consider their sacrifices worthwhile. He was sure of it.

  Outside, looking simultaneously forlorn and relieved, Solimar squared his broad shoulders and gazed up at the giant vessels—the seedships that had turned him away. Celli was with him, her dark eyes sparkling with tears. She was deeply sad to see Beneto go, and also happy for the parting gift her brother had quietly offered her.

  Like so many green priests, Solimar had been enamored with the idea of joining a verdani battleship. He had volunteered to give up his life to become a pilot of a huge seedship, just as Beneto had done. Many green priests had offered themselves, far more than the hundred who were needed.

  Though he was no longer entirely human, Beneto still knew his young sister’s heart. He had seen her and Solimar treedance together and understood their affection for each other. They belonged together. For love of Celli, he had not allowed Solimar to be chosen. The worldtrees listened to his heart, though it was clear the verdani did not entirely understand. But they had regrown him as a manifestation of the worldforest and of humanity; the sentient trees wanted to learn from Beneto and his memories. They listened to his love for his sister.

  He had offered Solimar a legitimate explanation. As one of the few technically literate and mechanically inclined people on Theroc, Solimar was needed for his engineering knowledge. The other green priests were not irreplaceable, but Solimar possessed skills the Therons would need. The worldforest asked him to stay behind, and the new battleships accepted another green priest pilot in his stead.

  And so, as volunteers had streamed to the hundred new battleships, the gold-armored trunks remained closed to Solimar, forcing him to stay behind. Celli realized immediately what her brother had done. She silently thanked him and did not tell her friend what she knew.

  Now Beneto could concentrate on his new residence, his new mass, his new existence. This great vessel was an extension of his body. He could look out upon the forest—all extensions of the worldforest—through the simulated eyes of uncountable leaves. He saw the many colony worlds where green priests had brought treelings to form a communications network.

  More than ever before, Beneto could feel all the memories, the secrets, the wistful experiences stored deep in the verdani mind. His thoughts flowed like sap through the intricate woodgrain, deep into the past. Beneto rode along with the lives of other green priests, his many predecessors all the way back to the first landing of the Caillié.

  For the first time, he actually saw a spark of old Talbun, his devoted mentor from Corvus Landing. Long ago Talbun had asked Beneto to be his apprentice, to watch over the colonists and tend the worldtree grove there. In dying, the old green priest had let his flesh be absorbed into the forest; Talbun was here, too, inside the verdani battleship, inside all of the great trees. Beneto would not lack for company. With wooden lips, he smiled. He felt strong, confident, at home.

  With the battleship as a conduit, amplified by the wental-infused wood around him, a thousand telink messages streamed through him. Beneto listened everywhere.

  Thus, instantly and unexpectedly, he became aware of the long-lost green priest Nira Khali.

  Beneto remembered the enthusiastic young green priest who had gone to Ildira with Ambassador Otema to experience the Saga of Seven Suns. But their treelings had been destroyed, cutting both of them off. After the former Mage-Imperator sent word that Nira was dead, no one, including Beneto, had found any reason to think otherwise.

  Now the terrible truth swept over him with the speed and devastation of a forest fire. Nira’s thoughts and memories were unstoppable. Even the towering worldtrees in the thick Theron forests swayed and reeled with the revelations.

  All at once, the scattered green priests received her experiences, the treachery, the breeding program, the secrets that Ildirans had kept. This sudden, shocking knowledge changed everything the green priests—and all other humans—had ever assumed about the Ildirans.

  And there was more.

  Because Mage-Imperator Jora’h had revealed it to Nira, her urgent message told of the forced alliance with the hydrogues and the impending attack on Earth. From within the huge battleship, Beneto comprehended what the Ildirans hoped to do, and how he must respond. Twists within twists. The hydrogues were going to Earth! The birthplace of humanity would be wiped out, unless someone else fought on their behalf.

  This war was everywhere at once.

  Around the Spiral Arm, green priests rushed the news to human settlers, but, abandoned by the EDF, the former Hansa colonists could do nothing to help Earth. And the Hansa military would never be sufficient to stand against the flood of warglobes that would soon bombard them.

  Understanding what was at stake, Beneto imposed another command, drawing upon his human existence more than the wishes of the worldforest. “We will take twenty of the new battleships, including the one that I captain, and go immediately to help defend Earth.”

  He felt a response ripple from the trees. They considered Earth a small part of the overall battle and didn’t want to expend part of their seedship force on a target they did not consider vital. But Beneto was adamant. “In spite of what its current government has done, that planet is humanity’s home. The seeds of our race came from there. Our roots go deep. Our hearts still remember the forests and jungles.” A flood of images rushed through telink, reminding the verdani of what was at stake. “We must save it.”

  The affirmation of the other green priests resounded through telink, and the worldtrees capitulated. In his mind he also received a swift burst of information and a caution from Nahton in the Whisper Palace. The last intact ships from the Earth Defense Forces were prepared to face any attackers, and they would no doubt be trigger-happy. What would the EDF do upon seeing the ominous and unexpected verdani battleships? Beneto needed a way to communicate directly with them.

  Seeing something he could do, Solimar hurried to the fungus-reef city to gather the components Beneto needed. In rebuilding the settlement, the good-hearted Roamers had installed new communications systems, traditional transmitters and beaming devices. While the hundreds of verdani battleships shifted and rustled impatiently, he dismantled one of the comm systems and brought it to Beneto’s giant ship. Celli followed him.

  Beneto separated the armored plates in his thick trunk and created a passage for them to enter. He sensed them as they climbed up to the heartwood chamber, following the tunnels he made. Solimar carried the comm unit, trailing wires and a long-term power source.

  He and Celli stopped upon entering the great chamber at the middle of the ship. Breathing hard, Beneto’s little sister looked at her brother with mingled fear, sorrow, and wonder. Solimar seemed uncertain of himself, his eyes downcast, his expression glum. Through telink, Beneto could read his feelings.

  Physically joined with his carved pilot seat, a wooden throne fused with symbolic controls and guidance systems, Beneto moved his body forward, detaching an arm from where it had gro
wn into the seat. “You see, Solimar, the worldforest required your skills as a human after all. Any green priest can join with a battleship, but I needed you to do this.”

  The broad-shouldered young man looked disconsolately at the comm system. “To hook up this simple equipment? Anyone could have managed that.”

  Celli was quick to scold him. “How many Therons understand technology the way you do? Name anyone else who’s built a gliderbike from scratch. Tell me who could maintain all those Roamer systems if you were to go away.”

  “Someone else could learn.”

  “Now no one else has to.”

  Beneto indicated where he wanted the comm system. “If I can make contact with the Earth military, I can coordinate our fight when we arrive. At the very least, it will stop them from shooting at me.”

  Her heart aching, Celli threw her arms around the remnants of her brother’s form. “I’ll never see you again, will I?”

  His carved face smiled. “My body was never really here in the first place. But I am always part of the forest. Solimar can contact me—he knows how.” She seemed to take heart from that. “And now you must leave. Our ships are about to depart. There is a war to be fought, and won.”

  Celli clung to him a moment longer. She always wanted to be seen as older and more mature, but at the moment she looked like the sensitive little sister he remembered from long ago. Beneto had many regrets for the things he had not accomplished in his second chance at life, but he also had many obligations to meet. Foremost, he had to join the final battle against the hydrogues at Earth.

  He conveyed his goodbyes and his love, not only to Celli but also to their parents. She and Solimar hurried out of the giant treeship, and Beneto sealed the opening in the trunk, armoring himself for spaceflight and war.

  Beneto stretched his new arms and felt his branches move through the air. His thorns and leaves extended upward into the winds of space. The huge branches were barely able to hold themselves up in the planetary gravity, but in open space they would stretch out to embrace the stars. All of the new battleships experienced the same reaction within their cores.