Empress of Eternity (27 page)

8 Tenmonth 1351, Unity of Caelaarn

The blinding silver light lessened and then dimmed, and Maertyn opened his eyes, only to find that scores of corridors swirled before him. Vertigo and nausea wrenched at him, and he immediately closed his eyes again.

Are you all right?
As it had been with the woman in scarlet, Maarlyna’s voice was clear in his thoughts, not his ears.

I’m better…now. I opened my eyes…very disorienting. Where are we going?
Maertyn grasped her smaller hand more firmly, holding on to the warmth of her presence.

To the center…or something like that.

The center of the canal? That’s a thousand kays to the east…

The sense of a soft laugh bathed him.
A control center, I think. I can’t read the inscriptions on the wall…yet they’re familiar…and I feel as though I should.

Maertyn concentrated on holding her hand and trying to follow her lead, not that such was difficult, because she was walking in a straight line.

We’re going to stop and turn here. We’re almost there, I think.

Where?

Maarlyna didn’t answer, but guided him through what must have been a door or an archway, because the sleeve of his shoulder brushed against stone. Then she stopped.

Maertyn took another half-step, then halted as well.

You can open your eyes, dear. It shouldn’t be too bad.

Maertyn did. He found himself in a small chamber, no more than five yards by three, standing beside Maarlyna and facing a whirl of scarlet and gray that coalesced into a solid figure in a scarlet singlesuit, except that before the image or person solidified, a man in silver and gray stood there…

That…it was you…
Maarlyna’s surprise went beyond the words in his head.

…only to be followed by a woman in pale ice-blue, before returning to the indistinct scarlet-clad figure.

Words echoed in Maertyn’s mind, but they were not directed at him. That he could sense.

The battle…not fought in one time…the choice…yours…to be key…keeper…of all those…choose fate…the universe…this event-point…only you…so few…ever…able to see…

For all his concentration, Maertyn could only grasp fragments of sentences or phrases, words clearly directed at Maarlyna, a conversation to which he was party only in the sense of a partly deaf man trying to understand a rapid exchange between two others in an ancient tongue.

Wait!
That preemptory command was Maarlyna’s. She turned to face Maertyn. Even though her mouth opened, he could hear the words only in his mind.
You need to know…

Know what?
He offered a wry smile.
I have the feeling I’m not going to like what I’m going to hear.

It’s not as bad as it could have been, dearest.

But…?

Would you want everything to end?

What do you mean…everything? Life? The world?

Slowly, she nodded.
And I saw what I might be…and the awful emptiness that will happen if I don’t…

Can’t you…or this power you’re being offered…can’t you just deal with the Gaerda?
he pressed.

When I’ve asked you about politics and the government, sometimes, you’ve said to me…it doesn’t work that way. This doesn’t work that way. If I choose…what I feel is right…things…between us, they’ll change.

How?

I’ll never be able to leave the station…I told you once that it was like coming home. I didn’t know how true that was…

Maertyn just stood there, his eyes burning, and not because of everything shifting around him. Time seemed to freeze, as though he could not move.
But…why?

Everything affects everything else…
She swallowed.

Maertyn could see that, and the tears flowing from her eyes.

If you
knew
that Tauzn would destroy the world, what would you do?
she asked after a time.

I still wouldn’t want to lose you.
Yet he knew that those words were not an answer, not with the Gaerda waiting outside the station, and not with the tears in her eyes.

Neither one of us will die. Things will be…different.

Different? How?
He paused.
Can we be together? Can I touch and hold you?

If you wish…for as long as…we can.

What do you mean…if we wish?

I’ll be different. I’ll know more…I think. I’ll see things that will be hard for you to see.

Maertyn moistened his lips.
Like the corridors that shift? They don’t for you, do they?

No. Not in the way you mean.

He just stood there, trying to think, looking at the woman he loved, and for whom…He pushed that thought away. He’d done what he’d done as much for himself as for Maarlyna, and she’d hung on to him even when she hadn’t understood. And now…it was his turn. “Where you go so will I go…” Those words were cribbed from somewhere in the past. That he also knew. He also understood that while no feeling was truly new, that lack of novelty did not mean lack of truth…or love. And yet…how could he let go…?

How could he not…when she had already been through so much?

Finally, he looked at her again.
I love you. I trust you. Do what you feel is right.

I love you…more than you know.

Maarlyna turned slightly and stepped forward. So did the indistinct figure…and they merged. Just as suddenly, Maertyn and Maarlyna stood alone in a small room. Thin consoles sheathed in golden-silver light lined the walls. Several panels on the consoles displayed stylized digits he could read, and letters he could not. At the same time, he had the feeling that the consoles were both there…and not there…although they did not flicker in and out of existence.

“What happened?” Maertyn swallowed.

The woman before him had Maarlyna’s features and slim figure, but the amber eyes were now silver, and her hair was a shade that somehow combined gold and silver without appearing old. And she wore the scarlet singlesuit.

“You…you’re the one, now, who appeared in the tube-train station?”

“Not exactly. That was a probability construct of the…canal.” A sad smile crossed her lips. “I have a faint recollection of that, just as my memories of the Maarlyna who was before you healed her are faint.”

“Why you?” asked Maertyn.

Maarlyna looked at him. “Why me? Did you hear what she said?”

He shook his head, trying to concentrate on his wife…if she were any longer just his wife.

“She said that I have less knowledge than others, but that knowledge can be learned. What cannot be learned is to see things as they are…as once in ancient times, a poet said, to see them played upon a blue guitar…” Maarlyna offered an embarrassed smile, one that recalled the woman he loved. “I couldn’t make up words like that, you know?”

Maertyn had liked the flow of those words, and the feeling they evoked, but could only guess at the instrument to which they referred. “But…what was she?…and you?”

“She was the construct…the…pattern…the knowledge…of the last keeper of the Bridge…the canal.” Maarlyna took his hand, and hers was cool, but still warm enough for him to know that she was indeed still there. “We need to go back. I…we have some things to do.”

“Where?”

“Back in the station. It’s easier there, or it will be for them.”

“Them? Are the black-shirts in the station? How could they—”

“No. These aren’t the Gaerda. I can’t explain yet, not exactly, because I’m still two people, except I’m not, and I’m afraid if I don’t do what I must while I still know what it is, I won’t be either.” Maarlyna began to walk back along the corridor, now lit in the pervasive silver-gold, but without any consoles.

“What are you going to do?”

“Prevent the unraveling of eternity…in our universe. If I can…The keeper…the pattern…said I could…”

The unraveling of the universe? Maertyn wanted to shake his head. In the space of a few days, his once-quiet wife had gone from someone he thought he knew into someone very different, more confident…and someone or even something possibly far more powerful. And he really didn’t understand why or how, all because he’d maneuvered himself into getting assigned an obscure research project, as much to protect her as anything.

He found he had to walk quickly to keep up with her as she walked through what was, or had been, the lower kitchen area and up the ramp to the main level and into his laboratory. There she glanced around. So did Maertyn. All his tables and equipment were there, but overlying them were colored but more than ghost-like images of consoles sheathed in light.

Maarlyna kept looking, although Maertyn had the feeling she was looking somewhere he could not see.

Then the light shifted again, and Maarlyna seemed to shimmer, as if she were there, and not quite there, except she was. Before her, as if through a shining veil or a misty mirror, stood two indistinct figures, although one was apparently a tall woman clad in pale golden armor, or something similar.

Maarlyna said something, but it meant nothing to Maertyn. He concentrated, realizing that the little he “heard” was in his mind and thoughts.

…face the end of eternity…

Why…nothing fixed before?
asked one of the ghost images.

You could not see it…needed key and keeper…no time…You perceive…continuity as…temporal…no time. There are only…event-points.

…something you’re doing for us?

That is what a keeper does.

With those words, Maertyn sensed sadness…melancholy. He wondered why and lost his concentration on what was going on before him.

…universe…a pivot point…battle…that will decide whether all continues.

What about you?

I am the keeper…last keeper fought…the ring in the heavens…

Maertyn tried to follow the seemingly mental interchanges, but lost much of what Maarlyna was saying. He did get a sense that whoever she addressed faced a far bigger problem than he and she did, and that the political machinations of Tauzn were almost trivial by comparison.

Suddenly, the light changed, and the two of them stood alone in the workroom.

Maarlyna looked very tired.

“Are you all right?”

“We need to eat.”

“Can you tell me what all that was about?” Maertyn rubbed his forehead, trying to massage away the headache he hadn’t realized that he even had.

“After we eat. Doing…that…is harder than I thought.”

“Doing what?”

“Talking across time. But time doesn’t work that way.” She turned. “I have to eat something. I’ll tell you then.”

Her face was pale. He didn’t say another word, just took her hand and walked out of the laboratory and down the ramp to the kitchen area.

20 Siebmonat 3123, Vaniran Hegemony

The darkness vanished. Duhyle and Helkyria stood in her workroom—or what had been her workroom. The worktables and equipment were there, untouched, but over and around them were ghost images of consoles sheathed in silver-gold light. Behind them, Duhyle sensed Symra, but he did not look back because between Helkyria and Duhyle stood a woman in a scarlet singlesuit. Her hair was silver-gold. Her eyes were silver, her features fine on an oval face. Behind and to her left was another figure, in silver and gray, barely visible, an image as insubstantial as those of the consoles.

You face the end of eternity.
The words filled Duhyle’s thoughts.

That’s possible
, replied Helkyria.

Why was nothing settled or fixed before?
asked Duhyle.

The woman in scarlet smiled, apologetically.
It was as fixed as it ever was. You could not see it as such.

Why can we now?
Helkyria’s words were hard.

The woman in red glanced to the silver-shadowed figure to her left, as if inquiring, then finally spoke.
You needed key and keeper.

Who or what are the key and keeper?
asked Helkyria.
Why would the canal need that, since it stands in de pen dent of time?

Not in de pen dent, warrior woman, not in de pen dent.
The scarlet woman tilted her head, as if listening, then nodded.
There is…no time…You perceive…continuity as…temporal. The canal…Bifrost Bridge…is linked to all event-points in this universe over which it was…constructed.

Duhyle frowned. The keeper sounded hesitant, as if she was having trouble explaining. Were the Vanir that backward? Or…Why hadn’t the keeper appeared at first? Or was it simply a linguistic problem?

Time is a mere perception?
interjected Helkyria.
Then the synchronizer would not work…and we would not be here, wherever or whenever here is…

There is no time. There are only…event-points. The experience of those event-points creates the perception of time in all intelligences.

Duhyle slowly turned his head and looked at Helkyria, simultaneously wearing the ice-blue singlesuit and formfitting armor running from her neck to wrists and ankles and comprised of small diamond-shapes of silver-gold light.

…might be said to be the…commonality…behind all intelligence…

How did we get here?
Helkyria’s question was as direct as a stunner bolt.

You are where you always were. The locking of the entrances to the Bridge was the first step in breaking the perceptual links to your event-points. Your…device…was the second. You can see all the event-points simultaneously…or you could if your perceptions were not conditioned to a limited set of points…

Who are you? How can you communicate with us? Why now? Earlier all we could make out were fragments.

With the range of all event-points, the systems attempted to address all possible inquiries…but you were not equipped…to limit…your focus on a unique set of points.

Are we now?
asked Helkyria.
Or is it something you’re doing for us?

That is what a keeper does.

Duhyle felt a sense of sadness…and yet of muted triumph.

The universe,
the keeper went on,
our universe—is at a pivot point—at two other times, the same struggle is being fought, but your battle is the one that will decide whether all continues.

What about you?
demanded Duhyle.
Where do you fit in?
He could sense Helkyria’s irritation at his interruption, but the idea of an outside force or keeper or whatever dictating what they did bothered him.

I am the keeper. There have been other keepers. The last keeper fought the same battle that you must fight.
There was a long pause.
When you look at the ring in the heavens, you see a portion of those costs…as the Bridge is also a remnant of that battle and a cost…and promise.

Promise?
asked Helkyria.
How can you help us? Can you destroy the Hammers?

“I” am not truly where you are. Our event-points do not coincide. Yet there are possibilities.
Another pause followed.
Tell me exactly what you face and where.

The Aesyr of Midgard have revolted and are threatening to use a weapon that will, if used often, unravel the dark matter of the universe. They have a ship, from the past, fitted with this weapon…

Duhyle listened as Helkyria gave a summary of the situation, followed by a description of the Hammers and the threat they posed.

The keeper said nothing, her eyes focused totally on Helkyria until the scientist paused.
There is only one Hammer. It can be made to appear at multiple points but can only force intersection sequentially, not simultaneously.

It can strike in the future, then?
asked Helkyria.

The keeper shook her head.
Not even the Bridge can do that. It can only reach any point with which it coexists and only at that point. There is no future, just as there is no past. There are only infinite sets of points of existence. Each coherent set of infinite points traveling through space can be said to be a universe…and not all points intersect naturally for all of that journey. Observation of those intersections is experienced by those with intelligence as time. All living organisms have some intelligence.

Duhyle thought he knew why Baeldura and Thora wanted to control the canal station, but wasn’t certain.
The Hammer—or Hammers—can only strike at one…location…one event-point…before it can proceed to another?

In a general sense…yes.

So where is the Hammer, its physical locale?
asked Helkyria.

There was another long pause before the keeper replied.
Physically, it is located on the large warship to the west of the canal.

You said there were possibilities that you could help. How?
pressed Helkyria.

What you call the great canal is a Bridge to anywhere equal to its length. Each of you can only depart it at the moment you left the event-point you inhabited and you can only leave it in an event-point congruent to your past/present event-point…

You’re saying that the canal can touch anything anywhere within two thousand kays and at any time?
asked Duhyle.

Almost simultaneously, Helkyria inquired,
You can let us depart somewhere near, but only at the same time as when we sealed the station?

That is essentially correct.

Duhyle knew that “essentially correct” translated into “grossly over-simplified.”

Is there any limit to those who can leave?
asked Helkyria.
Could all the troopers leave at once?

They could.

Do you have any weapons to support them?

None that would not make matters worse. Far worse, and far sooner.

Duhyle watched Helkyria, but his consort only nodded before asking,
Can you provide a view of the inside of the warship?

Another long pause followed.
We can see the outside, and there may be plans of the vessel, but I cannot transfer those to you. I can only describe…

Our event-points are not congruent
, said Helkyria dryly.

No…

We will have to determine how to attack the ship
, Helkyria said.
Give us some time…or continuity of event-points…

As you wish…

The keeper vanished, as did the shadowy silver figure, but the light-shaded “ghost” machinery did not. Nor did an indirect and diffuse illumination that seemed to come from the stone itself. Duhyle discovered that he had a slight headache, possibly from straining to see what amounted to two sets of images occupying the same space. “You’re going to invade the control centers of the warship?”

“That’s where the Hammer is. Do you have a better idea?”

Duhyle didn’t. “What if she—or it—isn’t what she says?”

Helkyria smiled wryly. “Let’s see.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I understand what she said, or the implications, she can only communicate with us so long as the station is locked. Let’s see if we can unlock one of the windows.”

“You don’t think we can, do you?”

“Let’s say I have my doubts.” Helkyria walked toward the synchronizer, then stopped. “All the outside screens are frozen, with the last images on them.”

“How…” Duhyle swallowed. “When we used the synchronizer…did that put us outside of time?”

“I think the keeper would have claimed that we’re outside our event-point…or something to that effect,” said Helkyria dryly. “That’s a good indicator that we probably can’t open things.”

Duhyle realized that the synchronizer was still powered, but running off the stored system, not off the grid.

Helkyria bent over and touched the screen. “We’re locked out.”

“What if we depower?”

“It shouldn’t make any difference.”

Duhyle cut the power to the synchronizer.

Nothing changed, nor did the light from the stone diminish.

He walked over to where the window was and touched the stone. It remained immobile. He looked at Helkyria.

“I’m inclined to believe her,” said Helkyria. “It appears as though we don’t have much choice.”

“Ser…?” offered Symra. “Aren’t there any other…?”

“Options? Can you think of any with a hundred of us locked inside here?”

Symra looked away.

“I’ll need to work out how we’ll do this.” Helkyria gestured toward the nearest wall. “We’ll have to use one of the existing doors, and that only will allow three fully equipped troopers at once.” She turned to Symra. “We’ll need to talk over what you and Valakyr need.” Then she looked back to Duhyle. “We’ll need you, too.”

“I do have some biotherm,” he said with a slight grin.

“That will come in useful, more than I’d thought.”

Duhyle nodded. He’d have to work out detonators, but he could manage that…somehow.