"Aye-aye, Admiral." She had been prepared to give such a presentation, and stood up, leaning her hands on the table and surveying the room.
"The Imperial Exploration Service conducts regular surveys of systems from thirty to forty parsecs outward from naval bases at the edge of the Solar Empire," she began. "These surveys serve a variety of purposes, including the location of suit able worlds for colonization or industrialization. The Service is always on the lookout for first contacts."
Tolliver's expression was impassive, but his eyes sent the message: We know all of this. Get on with it.
"The Exploration Service is often instrumental in locating potential hazards to the Empire, particularly the havens of raiders and pirates.
"It is important to emphasize that exploration of this sort entails high risks. Most worlds have only been mapped by un manned probes. Even with the information these probes provide, there are often astrographic and other hazards that have not been previously recorded. This means that systems that have been covered by the Imperial Grand Survey can still present dangers when a manned vessel goes there. Cicero itself was first surveyed by the Exploration Service; though its climate is somewhat less than temperate . . ." She smiled slightly. "It is a rare find: Earthlike, with a breathable atmosphere. Even Cicero presented perils—a geophysical team was killed during first landing in 2376 when it accidentally caused an ice avalanche during a mapping expedition on North Continent.
"The disappearance of exploratory vessels is highly significant, but this could have occurred for a variety of reasons. Such vessels are well armed and their crews are extraordinarily well trained. Whatever has happened, it warrants our closest attention."
She looked up from her notes and surveyed the room, meeting Ch'k'te's eyes, then the admiral's, and finally the old, old eyes of the Gyaryu'har, sitting patiently waiting for her to continue.
"The Negri Sembilan," Jackie continued at last, "is a fifth-generation ship of the Malaysia class." A graphic appeared above the table at a gesture to her comp. "We have four other ships of this class on station here at Cicero. While its battle-readiness is below that of a front-line vessel, it is more than ad equate to meet anything less than one. It carries a crew of two hundred and seventy-four, including twenty-three officers. The ship's complement includes a scientific team of twenty-five and a Marine complement of thirty-six, consisting of four squads of nine. The Negri Sembilan was commissioned in October 2374 at Cheltham Starbase, and its present captain has been in command for more than eight Standard years.
"The Gustav Adolf II is a fifth-generation vessel of the Emperor Cleon class. It is somewhat more lightly armed than the Negri Sembilan, but similar in size and crew complement. It was commissioned at Adrianople Starbase in June 2377. The current commander was appointed three years ago.
"Since being assigned to Cicero for exploratory duties in February 2391, each vessel has conducted more than twenty missions. Each has suffered minor damage once." She looked down at her comp. "The Negri during a pirate raid at the zor settlement at ElesHyu eighteen months ago, and the Gustav from a meteor shower in 2391 during a routine exploration. A complete report of the repair authorizations and tasks are available for your perusal.
"The commanding officer of the Negri Sembilan is Captain Damien Abbas." Torrijos' glance caught Jackie's at that moment, making her feel suddenly uneasy. "The Gustav Adolf II is commanded by Captain Maria Dunston. Both have spotless service records with several commendations for bravery as well as excellence in the performance of duties—"
"Excuse me, Commodore," Tolliver interrupted, holding up one hand. "Your exposition is most informative, and you are to be commended for its thoroughness. Your assertions concerning the perils of the Exploration Service are noted. The unblemished records of the two vessels, and their commanding officers, are also noted. But the fact remains that the ships are gone. Please enlighten us concerning their disappearance."
"Yes, sir." She toyed absently with a stylus, collected her thoughts and continued. "I reported the disappearance of each vessel in accordance with regulations. It is standard policy for an Exploration vessel on duty to send a tight-beam message to the base here on Cicero no less often than once per Standard week. We last received a report from the Negri Sembilan four and a half weeks ago, and from the Gustav Adolf II three weeks ago.
"Each ship was operating independently and updating the Grand Survey recorded in 2388. The Negri was in Sector 19.6.6—" A 3-D grid appeared above the table, indicating human and zor colonies as well as other explored worlds and showing the route of the Negri Sembilan. "Its last known position was at this unnamed K3 star." A small arrow indicated the end of the trail. "Its next destination was an F5[note F5 star here] main sequence star, indicated by the survey as having eight planets, one possibly habitable. Since the robot probes are considered to be eighty to ninety percent reliable, it is unlikely the probe would have overlooked a celestial body of sufficient size to cause a misjump.
"After the Negri failed to make contact at the scheduled time, I submitted a report to the Admiralty and assigned the Gustav Adolf II to investigate."
She looked around the room. "The Gustav made two jumps. The first jump was to the last known location of the other ship; the second was to the F6 [note F6 star here, referring to the F5 above. This is what is in the book, but it seems wrong.] star. We received a report from that system, indicating no debris or unusual radiation. The Gustav's commander conducted a full survey of the system, and reported nothing unusual except for a peculiar incidence of illness among the six Sensitives aboard. Since two were among the landing party on the habitable world, the captain attributed it to a local virus and conducted quarantining and vaccination procedures in accordance with regulations. The illness cleared up after a short time."
"Where did the Gustav go next?" asked Tolliver.
"As my report states, sir, we received no further communications from the Gustav. I have no data on where they went next. My last orders from the Admiralty were to stay put, to order no further vessels to the site and to await your arrival."
"Very well." Tolliver sat forward and folded his hands in front of him. "Commodore, let me clarify the Admiralty's position regarding the events you have just described.
"Upon consideration of your reports, I have been ordered to inform you that the First Lord considers your actions in this matter to be above reproach. He asked that—once I was satisfied concerning what was known—I convey to you his commendation for your conduct of the investigation."
Jackie tried to read Tolliver's expression and found that she could not easily do so. She gave up. "Thank you, sir."
"Your reports are most thorough on the particulars of the two vessels. I must ask you, however, to provide me with an in formed guess as to what you believe has happened to them."
"A . . . guess, sir?"
"Off the record, of course."
"Of course." Jackie knew nothing ever said to an admiral was completely off the record, but she would have to answer regardless.
She looked down at her notes and at the last report from the two ships and ran the whole matter back through her mind.
The Negri had gone to a system for which there was only survey data. It had been previously explored only by an unmanned probe. If it had been attacked there, the Gustav had found no evidence of it when it got there ten days later. The system had no other ships in it, no excessive background radiation, nothing. But the Gustav had been lost there, too—it had never reported back. Neither captain would have ignored regulations.
It was hard to believe either would have gone pirate or taken off on some wild expedition. They were both too good.
If they had come under attack, there likely would have been some chance for one of them to send a message squirt.
What was left?
"I have very little evidence, Admiral. What I do have, leads me to a conclusion which is highly speculative, to say the least."
"I am prepared to accep
t that, Commodore. Go on."
"Sir." She put her hands flat on the table before her and looked at them. "It is distinctly possible that we may have a first contact."
The words "first contact" seemed to echo into the silence for a long time. Mankind had experienced three first contacts: the rashk, the zor and, most recently, the otran. Of the three, only the zor had been especially violent. The rashk—a bucolic, reptilian race native to the worlds orbiting Vega—were indifferent to warfare. The otran, discovered by humans and zor in mid-century, were far more warlike, but they were only beginning to explore space.
There were many legacies from mankind's struggle with the zor. Though nearly a century had passed since its end, many old scars and legacies remained—barren Nests destroyed by Marais' fleet, wastelands on worlds ruined by the zor.
And the most obvious legacy: the old, old man sitting at the conference table here on Cicero, listening in apparent calm to the possibility of first contact.
"We have nothing to suggest that is the case, Commodore," Sergei said quietly.
"I was asked for an assessment, se Gyaryu'har, and I have provided it. In point of fact, we have nothing to go on at all."
Sergei smiled. "A moment's indulgence for an old man, Commodore Laperriere, before you assert that conclusion. We do have a shred of evidence that may provide enlightenment."
"Sir?"
"We are told," he continued, "that all of the Sensitives aboard the Gustav Adolf II suffered some illness during the survey of the system. In my day—" The phosphor caught a facet of an Imperial naval service ring and twinkled. "In my day it was customary to file a daily personnel report. I would assume that the regular transmissions of Exploration Service vessels include these reports. It might be worth consulting the report of the Gustav's chief surgeon; in view of the experiences of other Sensitives"—his smile had disappeared and was replaced by a worried, almost frightened look—"we might well learn something."
Ch'k'te's talons extended a few centimeters. He forcibly retracted them and exchanged a glance with Jackie.
Tolliver looked at Sergei. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"The High Lord has . . . dreamed."
Horace Tolliver snorted angrily, "se Sergei, are you telling me that you are here merely because the High Lord had a dream?"
"I beg your pardon, se Admiral," Ch'k'te said. "The precognitive capabilities of the High Lord are well known—"
"They are hardly something to base a campaign on, Commander," Tolliver interrupted. "I will remind you that this is the Imperial Navy and not a psych session for a bunch of damned Sensitives."
"Horace, of all the—" Sergei began, but Admiral Tolliver raised his hand.
"Excuse me, se Sergei."
The older man fell silent.
Horace Tolliver surveyed the room. "I grant the possibility that something might be gained from close examination of the medical records of the Gustav. That inquiry will likely conclude that all regulations were followed and all due precautions were taken.
"But I will not let the operation of this base and the conduct of an adequate investigation of the unknown danger before us to be determined by the subconscious imaginings of a Sensitive.
"I am particularly unwilling to do so given the mental state of your High Lord. I don't think we can reasonably put any stock in anything he says, sees or dreams. That's what I believe, and the record can damn well so state."
The room was silent as he finished his comments. He looked from face to face, expecting further objections or opposition; but none was forthcoming. Sergei appeared ready to say some thing, but kept silent.
"Commodore Laperriere, you will conduct a full investigation of the illness of the Sensitives aboard the Gustav Adolf II," Tolliver resumed. "Furthermore, you will issue a general recall order for all vessels under the authority of Cicero Military District and prepare a status report for me concerning the readiness of those vessels to conduct naval operations."
"Sir." Jackie fixed Admiral Tolliver with a stare. "I . . . It is my opinion, sir, for the record, that an act of overt belligerence is at this time both unwarranted and unwise. I will not accept responsibility for issuing such an order."
"Meaning?"
"I wish it stated, for the record, sir, that if you choose to undertake military operations at this time, with this little evidence, I will protest it. I will of course fulfill my obligation to follow your orders . . . to the letter."
After a long pause, Tolliver said, "You have your orders, Commodore"—he stood, and the rest hurriedly stood in turn—"carry them out." Trailed immediately by his aides, the admiral talked from the conference room.
Chapter 3
He felt the ships jumping from Cicero and knew their doom was sealed. It would strain the bounds of credibility to expect even another Sensitive to believe he knew this, that he could feel it somehow—but he did know. He had felt the brush of that wing years ago, when E'er, his father, had given him the High Lordship by the ritual of Te'esLi'ir on his deathbed. What E'er had only perceived as a dim shadow-thing, occasionally preying at the edges of his dreams, had stood out as a glaring, hideous spotlight to the new High Lord; to him, an e'chya cutting a dark swath across his visions . . .
Behind their wings, the lords and courtiers at High Nest had always wondered whether Ke'erl HeYen's mind was indeed scattered to the Eight Winds. Madness in the High Lordship was not a unique thing, nor was it totally undesirable—since madness sometimes opened new vistas to a dreaming Sensitive. But in a time of relative peace, the most violent factions of the People were angered by a weak and half-mad High Lord, who perched in his Chamber of Meditation and dreamed while the chya'i rusted in their scabbards.
They did not truly understand; Ke'erl knew that esGa'u the Deceiver had prophesied a reckoning with an enemy greater than mere humanity, and it was finally here. While it crept in at the edges of civilization, the sun continued to shine over the High Nest. Ke'erl knew this fact; the Gyaryu'har knew it as well and had seen the entire spread of the wing from the Dark Wing to the present, and would now witness for esLi at the edge of known space.
And esLi alone would judge the outcome.
***
The aircar settled to the tarmac at the emperor's personal landing-field on Molokai. After a few moments the hatch opened and Mya'ar HeChra, esGyu'u of the High Nest, emerged and drifted slowly to the ground, his wings extended very slightly as he descended the five meters or so; he hadn't waited for the car's grav to lower him.
Dieter Xavier Willem, Solar Emperor, stood on the field waiting for Mya'ar. It was not customary for the emperor to wait for visitors in person, even at his own private enclave; but his visitor spoke with the authority of the High Nest. At Diamond Head, with the Imperial Court watching, this might have meant something different; but on Molokai there were no courtiers, no politicians. Randall Boyd, from the Envoy's Office, stood just behind him.
"hi Emperor," Mya'ar said, inclining his head. It had been decided that the emperor was to receive the same prenomen as the High Lord, but the High Nest had learned that humans were uncomfortable with having their emperor addressed by his given name. They also had some stigma attached to touching the emperor's person, so Mya'ar refrained from grasping the human ruler's forearms in greeting.
"se Mya'ar," the emperor replied.
"se Randall," Mya'ar said to the envoy. Randall Boyd was Nest-child to the first one of that title; he was familiar with the customs of the People, of course, and exchanged the clasp with Mya'ar.
"I thank you for your courtesy, hi Emperor," the esGyu'u said, as they began to walk across the tarmac. "I realize that your schedule is busy. If the message were not urgent—"
"Then it would arrive by tight-beam," the emperor interrupted. He held up his hand. "I'm sorry that I have not invited you here to Molokai before, se Mya'ar. Your honored predecessor, si Le'kar, visited here frequently; he presented me with the surush blossoms on the far trellis." He gestured toward an arbor
, framed by the balmy sky and the beach beyond.
"I hope it will not be my last visit, hi Emperor."
"You can be assured it will not . . . I understand you bear a message from my good friend hi Ke'erl?"
"I do. I believe—" Mya'ar looked at Randall for a moment, then back to the emperor. "I believe you will find it disquieting."
***
"To my friend and brother hi Dieter Xavier Willem, Solar Emperor, the High Nest sends greetings." The voice of the High Lord, Ke'erl HeYen, emerged from the holo of his image in the center of the room. "I regret to communicate with you on such short notice, but it is a matter of some gravity. It disturbs my inner peace, and I fear it will disturb yours as well.
"hi Emperor, six vessels of your Imperial Navy have departed Cicero System within the last few suns. They were armed for battle with the esGa'uYal, but on the Plain of Despite they will find themselves unarmed.
"I beg eight thousand pardons of you, my brother and friend, but this is an unwise use of our limited resources. We had already placed the Gyaryu'har on the dark path, and were waiting for the shroud to be pulled aside; Father Sun has now advanced farther in the sky, but I have not received an indication whether this is for good or ill.
"Regardless of your intentions, hi Emperor, the fate of these warriors is already sealed. If they return at all, their guise will be altered. The esGa'uYal have already emerged from the Plain, but the one who will ascend the Stair has not yet passed through the shNa'es'ri.
"Be well, my brother. esLiHeYar."
The holo winked out. The room lights came up at a gesture from the emperor; for a time there was no sound other than the cries of birds and the soft crash of waves on Molokai's northern shore. Mya'ar waited patiently on his perch; Randall sat upright.
The emperor leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin.
The Dark Path Page 3