Empress of Eternity (11 page)

As the others rose to leave, Hlaansk gave a quick sharp look to Maertyn that indicated he was to wait until the others had departed.

As he stood nodding and smiling as the room emptied, Maertyn considered the briefing. He’d managed to avoid making any major errors—he thought. More than a few of the pointed questions had come from Stett, and there hadn’t been what Maertyn could have called a scientific consistency behind any of them, but a political agenda that suggested they had been drafted almost more by someone working for the Ministry of Environment…or the Ministry of Protective Services.

Once he was alone in the conference room with the Minister of Science, Hlaansk nodded. “Very well handled, Maertyn.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“There is one other matter I wished to discuss with you.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Since you are already here in Caelaarn, I’ve requested that Josef tour the other science universities, especially the two in Occidenta, and those in Galawon as well. You’ll be acting Assistant Minister for Environment Research in his absence. That shouldn’t hamper your research, since it’s not as though that equipment you requested will reach the station immediately, either. I also must say that it was truly a shame Josef couldn’t have been here to view your presentation. Quite masterful, I might add, especially in dealing with the environmentally slanted inquiries. I understand your concern about your wife, but I’m certain that, under the circumstances, she won’t begrudge us your expertise for another few weeks.”

“I’m most certain that she will understand, sir. She’s always been most supportive.”

“And you, I know, have done far, far more than anyone could ever ask, even of the most devoted husband, in her cause.” Hlaansk offered a warm and sympathetic smile.

“I’ve always done what I thought best, sir, for her, and for the Ministry, and the Unity,” replied Maertyn.

Hlaansk nodded. “I’m certain that you have, and I look forward to your oversight of Environment Research in the next few weeks and any recommendations you might make for improvement. It’s always good to have a different perspective.” Another smile followed. “We’ll have to have lunch sometime next week.” With that, the minister left through the side door into his suite.

Maertyn picked up the portfolio he had never opened and then walked back toward the front of the Ministry building. He strongly doubted that the half-proffered luncheon invitation would actually be forthcoming.

Hlaansk had accomplished three objectives with his last decision: punishing Josef for avoiding Maertyn’s research briefing, suggesting potential irregularities within Environment Research and forcing Maertyn to look into those possibilities, and reminding Maertyn that his entire project and Maarlyna were at Hlaansk’s suffrage.

Maertyn didn’t see matters getting any easier…or better. Nor did he see any alternatives…unless he could discover something truly unusual about the canal, and he was enough of a realist to suspect that was most unlikely. Still…with the additional equipment, it was theoretically possible.

29 Quad 2471 R.E.

Fourday began without any communications from Apialor, or anywhere else. Fearing the worst, based on Rhyana’s reports and both his and Faelyna’s reading of the delivery woman, Eltyn decided the only way to deal with anyone from The Twenty, presuming that they didn’t arrive in great force, was simply to capture or remove them. Neither Rhyana nor Faelyna disagreed. The three of them effectively faced losing their intelligence, if not their minds…or their lives.

Before more than a moderate number of inspectors showed up, Eltyn and Faelyna—mostly Faelyna—needed to master the command structure in order to keep outsiders from opening doors or windows. The stone would stand against anything in the Ruche arsenal. If large forces camped around the station, that was another question. In the meantime, he moved their weapons, power packs, and ammunition to the upper level, next to the “window” overlooking the south entrance. Then he went back to work.

During a moment when Faelyna stopped to take a brief break, in early afternoon, he pulsed,
Possible duplication of shadow-tracking?

Possible. Need to restructure detector and build equivalent of transmitter.

Interrogative schematics?

Blue-orange folder [here].

Eltyn studied the details for close to half an hour. If he substituted here…but changed the power flows there…He nodded, then pulsed Faelyna.
Possible alternative transmitter.

??????

[here]
He expanded the rough virtie diagram.

For several minutes Faelyna studied his proposal.
Approach should work…Total one-time power draw? System capacity?

Eltyn considered. She was right.
Spare storage discharge capacitors? Banked there…surge draw??

[cautious approval]

I’ll begin work.
Eltyn headed for the storeroom.

After a good two hours of digging and organizing, he proved that the inventory was accurate. His memory was not, and that meant developing a work-around for the control circuits handling the surge power required. Still, he was well on the way to solving that problem when he finally had to give up from fatigue that evening and collapse into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

Fiveday did not begin in nearly so accommodating a fashion as fourday had.

Before eight in the morning, another priority comm blast shivered in.
All local installations on both sides of the midcontinent canal will be inspected in the next several days. The inspectors are fully authorized agents of the Ruche, acting with the full authority of The Twenty. These inspections are merely to assure compliance with power requirements and continued loyalty to the Ruche so that the proprieties of social order and structure are maintained. Once these formalities are concluded, the process of returning to normal activities will resume. No changes in operations are planned at this time.

Eltyn’s lips quirked.
No changes in operations, but what about changes in operators…or their minds? They’re not mentioning other apparently permanent changes. MetCom and the satellites are still down.

Permanently down. Probability = unity
³
.

How did RF manage it?

The Ruche is based on unity and security. The Fifty wasn’t successful enough in fostering a sense of security, not with the sand covering most of the south half of Primia, and temperatures rising every year. TechOversight viewed as too liberal.

Too liberal?

Too open to nontraditional approaches.

Force-conditioning the most intelligent will provide solutions and security?

Punishment for failing to provide. [ironic laughter]

“What is it?” interrupted Rhyana, standing at the top of the ramp. “Begging your pardons, but I don’t know what that buzzing meant.”

“It means that, fairly soon, The Twenty will be sending inspectors out here.”

“They’ll get in over my corpse.”

“Over all of our corpses,” Eltyn agreed. “We’re not exactly in the best of graces with The Twenty.”

“All that fancy gear going to help?”

“It won’t be finished before the first inspectors arrive,” Eltyn said. “It might be ready in time for the second group…if we can handle the first.”

Optimist
⁵
!

Agreed…Why not?

Faelyna smiled.

“I’ll be doing my part,” stated the delivery woman.

Eltyn managed to finish his control-circuit work-around in the next hour and was assembling the power banks when the local alert system buzzed.

Transport wheeler approaching. Distance four kays. Arrival time in six minutes and fifteen seconds.

Eltyn immediately virtie-linked to the local system, taking in the composite view of the dark gray vehicle from the system’s scanners.

Speed and wheeler depression suggest five individuals, plus or minus one, given cargo
, added the system.

?????
inquired Faelyna.

As planned.
“Rhyana!” Eltyn yelled, having the internal system sound-cast his words inside the station. “Up to the upper-level south side!”

Faelyna remained on the main level, with one of the stunners, to cover the doors, since the upper window wouldn’t open wide enough to allow three people space to fire accurately. Also, that position provided her with a quick exit from the station on the canal side, either for escape or for a rear attack on the RF enforcers.

Behind the upper window, still closed, Eltyn continued to virtie-monitor the approach of the heavy-duty wheeler, as did Faelyna from the main level.

Eltyn glanced to Rhyana. “When the window opens they’ll be below us, some five yards out.”

“I’ll be ready.”

The vehicle stopped short of the east end of the station. For a time, nothing happened. Then six individuals, all in gray-blue uniform singlesuits, stepped out of the wheeler. Each wore a crimson shoulder patch with the intertwined letters “RF.” All carried long stunners, discharge barrels slightly down.

RF uniforms
, pulsed Faelyna.

Thought they just wore those for ceremony. Humble servants of The Fifty, they called themselves. [snort]

Eltyn waited until the six were closer, then murmured, “Ready,” and touched the window, willing it to open wide.

Before he could even squeeze the firing stud on the projectile rifle, Rhyana had fired twice, and one of the “inspectors” had dropped. Eltyn fired, and one of the men staggered. He fired again, and the man dropped.

Eltyn could sense Faelyna hurrying out of the canal-side door. He didn’t like her exposing herself, but he was in no position to do anything about it.

Rhyana fired twice more, and another inspector—a woman—toppled.

“Back to the wheeler!”

The man who had given the order turned and ran almost ten yards back toward the dark gray vehicle before falling—dropped by Faelyna’s stunner.

The other two inspectors darted back, then turned and sprinted almost due south, heading toward a low dune. Beyond them, he could see the black shimmering pools that were but heat mirages.

Eltyn didn’t fire again. He doubted he could hit anyone at that distance, and they didn’t have that much ammunition. Besides, the two RF inspectors were angling back toward the canal, but in a way that suggested they weren’t about to return to the station. Not soon, and not without reinforcements.

Eltyn had his doubts about whether the pair could make the more than sixty kays to Apialor on foot in the heat, the wind, and especially if a sandstorm came up in the next day or so. He watched for a moment, then keyed a command into the local net to inform him of any movement approaching the station. Only then did he turn from the window and head down toward the south door. He did switch magazines, as did Rhyana, before he opened the door.

Three figures in RF uniforms were dead. That left the one Faelyna stood watching.

“He’ll be out for hours.”

“We’ll need to make sure he’s firmly restrained.”

“I can take care of that,” announced Rhyana. “Take care of it good.”

“You took care of most of them already,” Eltyn said.

“I had to. They’re the ones who were turning poor Kealyn into little more ’n dribbling mal-brain. That one there was, anyway.” She pointed to the body of a slightly taller man with skin a shade darker than either Eltyn’s or Faelyna’s.

“What do we do with their vehicle?” Rhyana paused. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. Satellites have probably picked it up already.”

“Not necessarily,” replied Eltyn. “The sat-links seem to be down. They’ll have minidrones coming this way, if they aren’t already. Can you camouflage it?”

“I’ll see what I can do, after I take care of His Mighty Rucheness here, and the bodies. You two need to get back to what you were doing. You let me know if anyone’s coming? Or if any of those RF types head back here?”

“Absolutely,” declared Eltyn.

Faelyna nodded.

As the two left Rhyana, Eltyn couldn’t help but ask,
Did they just think we’d let them walk in?

Why not? Everyone else has, it appears. Except TechOversight. No way for us to get there. No way to know if Chiental has held them off.

It’s a covert location…

The RF types seem to be everywhere.

Eltyn shook his head as he entered the station.

14 Siebmonat 3123, Vaniran Hegemony

The next morning dawned clear and bright…and without any sign of the Aesyr. The security company had gone to stand-down. One squad remained on alert, stationed around the portahut on the grass just south of the canal wall. Duhyle stood outside the south station door talking with Subcaptain Symra, since Helkyria was buried in her workroom, trying to track “ghost” patterns within the station proper.

“What will the Aesyr try next?” asked Duhyle.

“Anything that will catch us off-guard. It’s likely to be an attack that doesn’t look like one. Or it could be a peaceful protest designed to look like an attack to get us to make a mistake. The Aesyr and half the government are already demanding the resignation of the Magistra of Security over the sinking of the
Skadira
.”

“Security didn’t sink the ship. The Aesyr sank it themselves.”

“That may be, but how do you prove a negative, especially when people saw a ship exploding from what looked like a satellite-launched missile? If you deny it without evidence, people think the government’s deceiving them, but the more evidence the government produces, the more people believe the government is fabricating it all and that it’s a cloaking job.”

“Doesn’t anyone ask why the government would want to destroy an innocent ship? Or that it might not be so innocent?”

“Throughout history, people have feared government, and mostly they’ve been right to do so.” A faint pink of sardonic humor colored the subcaptain’s eyebrows.

The distant muted sound of horns caught Duhyle’s ear, and he and Symra turned. From out of the low evergreens to the south of the canal and the station emerged a handful of men playing brass horns of various lengths. All wore leathers, leggings, and horned helmets. Duhyle squinted. There were short battle-axes in leather cases attached to their wide belts.

“Security!” snapped Symra, clearly on a tactical net. “Full alert.”

The hornists were almost a kay away. So far they were alone, but that didn’t mean they’d stay unaccompanied.

Security troopers began mustering south of the portahut, and two other Aesyr walked out of the woods. Each carried a long pole, with a banner stretched between the poles. Against the banner’s gray background, the four-word message in fluorescent crimson stood out—
Aesyr Against Secret Research
. The banner-bearers, also with battle-axes at their belts, followed the hornists by around fifteen yards.

Captain Valakyr appeared, her eyes darting toward the demonstrators. “Sonic axes! Two can play that tune.” She hurried toward the portahut.

“Sonic axes?” asked Duhyle.

“They look like toys or ancient replicas, but they project tightly focused sound. They can be far more lethal than a real axe. They don’t have to strike physically to kill. In fact, if the edge actually impacted your arm, it might malfunction, but they look like toys, and they’re very light.”

Two hundred or more demonstrators emerged from the trees behind the banner. All wore Aesyr costumes, with short leather cloaks, leather belts crossed over their chests, bound leggings, and horned helms. All were swinging the sonic axes in some sort of rhythm.

Duhyle frowned, then asked, “Is the advantage to the sonic axes that Security can’t use longer-range weapons because they can’t prove hostile intent until they’re actually within yards of being killed or injured?”

Symra nodded. “You can’t tell if it’s a sonic axe or a toy until it’s used. They can march up to the security troopers and turn away…or attack at the last moment. Oh…and the axes also have another capability. They disrupt several different forms of nonlethal restrainers, such as loopers and body foam.”

“So…if the axes are lethal…?” pressed Duhyle.

“They used toy axes last year in Asgard. Security cut down the first line of Aesyr demonstrators with high-strength stunners, and several died. The captain in charge was cashiered, and brain-conditioned. Even after a public trial, there was an uproar about Security overreacting.”

Duhyle recalled seeing the media on the incident, but there hadn’t been any mention of the resemblance between toy axes and sonic axes.

“That’s why there aren’t any Vanir security companies stationed anywhere in Midgard any longer,” added Symra. “They’re all Aesyr.”

“They’re trying to create their own separate government for Midgard.”

“Trying?” Symra’s single word was sardonic.

Duhyle looked back at the approaching Aesyr. More than half a kay away a number of other things struck him immediately. Most of the so-called demonstrators were male; all the men were bearded; and the majority of them were not only taller than he was, but considerably taller and broader than their few female compatriots.

The security troopers formed up in a staggered triple line along the flat stone at the southern edge of the canal wall. All carried circular shields and short stunners.

“Are the shields sonic blockers?”

“Yes. They’re not always entirely effective.” Symra’s voice was clipped. “Excuse me, Tech Duhyle.” She strode briskly toward the vehicle that had brought her, where the seven remaining spec-ops techs had formed up.

Once she reached them, there was a quick exchange, and then one of the techs slipped into the vehicle and drove it forward toward the middle of the line of security troopers. Symra and the other techs trotted alongside the vehicle, until it came to a stop in the middle of the line.

Duhyle nodded. Symra would use the vehicle’s shields.

Captain Valakyr joined the subcaptain and the two talked for a moment before Valakyr turned away.

By now, the hornists were three hundred yards away from the security troopers. They did not continue toward the troopers, but turned eastward, marching until they were even with the easternmost troopers. Then they stopped, about-faced, and resumed playing. In the meantime, the banner-bearers had turned westward, heading parallel to the security forces. When they reached the western end of the troopers, they swung around so that the banner faced the hornists. They stopped and set the banner poles on the ground.

More and more Aesyr marched forward, and the group took on a semi-military appearance, with spacing neither that of a crowd nor in the ranks of an overtly disciplined force.

Valakyr issued an order, and the security troopers immediately re-formed into a front only slightly wider than the approaching Aesyr demonstrators, now all swinging their axes in a coordinated pattern, as if in a drill, and chanting, “No more Vanir secrets…no more Vanir secrets…no more Vanir secrets…”

Symra’s voice rang out across the space between the two forces. “This is a reserved and protected area! Demonstrations are not permitted here, by order of the Assembly. You have made your point. Disband the demonstration or face restraint and incarceration.”

The Aesyr did not respond, but kept marching toward the canal and the troopers, their chanting ever louder and more rhythmical, as was the swinging of the sonic axes—or were they merely toy axes?

In the distance, Duhyle could hear a high-pitched whining coming from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, but the structure of the station blocked his view to the north. He turned his eyes back toward the advancing Aesyr, now less than a hundred yards from the security troops.

“You have been warned!” Symra announced. “Halt immediately or face restraint and incarceration!”

Duhyle had to wonder what Symra had in mind, because the demonstrators easily outnumbered the security troopers by three or four to one. Exactly how did the security troopers or the spec-ops techs plan to restrain a force four times their size, especially if the axes were indeed sonic weapons? He looked back at the station. Since there was no way to lock the stone entrances, there was little point in retreating inside.

The Aesyr were close enough that Duhyle could make out individual expressions. Those varied from outright laughter to broad smiles, many of them cruel.

The whining became even louder, accompanied by a thunderous roar.

Then Symra gestured, and the spec-ops vehicle somehow shimmered and vibrated, and the air seemed darker…

…and Duhyle could hear nothing, nothing at all.

What he saw and felt was a single security ramjet pass less than a hundred yards overhead before climbing out to the south. With that single pass the Aesyr crumpled—every last one of them, until they all lay on the uneven partly grassed ground south of the station. Several of the security troopers staggered, but they did not fall.

The spec-ops vehicle returned to normal, and Duhyle could hear once more.

This time Valakyr’s voice was the one amplified. “Restrain every single Aesyr. Some may be dead, if they fell on their own axes, and for some the axes may have intensified the effect of the sonic stun. You have less than a quarter hour. Move!”

The security forces hurried toward the fallen figures, loopers and foamers out.

Duhyle turned to see Helkyria emerging from the station, but she was headed toward the spec-ops vehicle and the two junior officers. He followed.

“The airships are on the way, Captain,” Helkyria announced to Valakyr. “They’ll be here in less than two hours to pick up the demonstrators. We’ll need a count of any casualties.”

“I’d like it if there weren’t any,” replied the captain. “That’s not likely. The way some of the Aesyr were swinging those axes, they were already projecting.”

“We have some recordings of that.” Helkyria nodded. “Even so, the media will be demanding your removal. I’ll be taking the liberty of releasing an analysis of the axes, along with a schematic and a cutaway of the weapon. The Subministry of Public Safety will pick up the axes from the airships and will make them available to the media. That might prove to be of some assistance.”

“They’ll claim that we switched the axes.”

“I know. Almost anything we provide, they’ll find a way to twist or refute. We stunned peaceful demonstrators, and killed some of them.”

“Few healthy humans die from stun-shock, especially prime physical specimens like those.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Helkyria’s voice was suddenly resigned…or tired. “You take care of the demonstrators and get me some axes quickly.”

“Yes, ser.”

Helkyria turned.

Duhyle followed her, but waited until he and Helkyria were back inside the station before he spoke again. “They’ve planned this all out.”

“They have, and there will likely be another attack, but not until the Aesyr have fully exploited the idea that the Vanir government is excessively brutal and cruel when the most reasonable Aesyr are only asking for an end to secrets.” She kept walking, making her way up the ramp to her working area.

“Most of the Aesyr were men, and they were huge.”

“Most people don’t know,” replied the scient-commander. “The Aesyr have been using genetic engineering to reemphasize sexual dimorphism. It’s been tried before. The last documented usage was during the last years of the Amberian Anarchists. The women reacted violently to that not-so-disguised attempt at resubjugation, and that led to the fall of the culture, but those traits have persisted in a diluted form. The Aesyr have been isolating and gene-splicing them for close to three generations.”

“Isn’t that against the Assembly principia?”

“It is, but genetic material is private and legally privileged. How can one prove that if those who are ‘benefiting’ from the traits refuse to have their genetic material analyzed?”

“The Aesyr are perverting the laws and protections to their own ends, and no one can say anything about it?”

“All fanatics and all those with great wealth have always done so. Why would that change now?”

Obvious as that was, Duhyle had nothing to say.

“If we of the Vanir pervert the laws to stop them, then how are we any different from them? Where do we stop?” The deep blue of sadness suffused her hair and eyebrows. “With each crisis, it becomes easier and easier to justify the erosion of principles, until we have none, and, in the end, principles and a common belief in them are all that hold a civilization together.” After a brief pause, she said, “Excuse me, Kavn. There’s so much I need to do. I’ll see you later.” She turned.

Duhyle walked back down the ramp.