“‘Volunteer’?” Cheris said. The Nirai definition of “volunteer” was undoubtedly the same as the Kel definition.
“I don’t
think
they can force-feed someone a ghost corpse,” Jedao said, “but to my knowledge it’s never been tried. I wouldn’t recommend it anyway. The Nirai believes that having pieces of my brain inside you would drive you crazy even if I weren’t crazy myself.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cheris said, trying not to think about the fact that this wasn’t very different from her current situation. She looked up from the Orientation Packet. “I’m ready.”
“All right,” Jedao said. “Setup. First display: the Fortress of Scattered Needles and whatever’s on file about its defenses. Second display: reports on its population and the origin of the heresy. Third: data on this specific regime of rot and how rapidly it’s metastasizing. We’re going to have to ask the Nirai to loan us a mathematical analyst –”
“I can handle that,” Cheris said.
Sharp interest: “You’re Nirai-trained?”
“My specialty was mathematics,” Cheris said. She was used to this. “The recruiters advised me to apply to Nirai Academy, but I declined.”
“And the Kel took you anyway.”
“After advising me to apply to Nirai Academy instead, yes.”
“I want to make sure I understand this,” Jedao said. “You had a choice and a noteworthy aptitude for math, and you decided to become a hawk anyway. Was it family pressure?”
“I can request my profile for your perusal,” she said.
“I’d like that, yes, but I want to hear it from you as well.”
Cheris brought up her profile – the part of it she was allowed to see, anyway – and wondered which sections were inviting particular scrutiny. Should she be embarrassed about her taste in dramas, under “leisure activities”? Or the fact that she was an enthusiastic but mediocre duelist? What did undead generals do in their spare time anyway?
“My family wanted me to stay home,” she said. “They don’t approve of the military.” Or the hexarchate, really. She didn’t say that she had wanted to fit in for once, and that the Kel with their conformism had seemed a good place to do that.
“Fine,” Jedao said after a disquieting silence. “Fourth display: review of available resources. Fifth: I want a look at tech advances over the last four decades. Maybe the state of the art is better than it used to be. Leave the sixth blank for now.”
“You’ve been thinking about this,” Cheris said as she set up the displays.
“I don’t like wasting time,” Jedao said. “This whole regime is about time, isn’t it? Let’s go in reverse order.”
The hexarchate dealt with low-level calendrical degradation on a daily basis. Outbreaks of full-scale rot were comparatively uncommon, but all the same the necessity of invariant weapons that didn’t rely on the high calendar had been realized a long time ago.
Cheris and Jedao went through the fifth display together. “No breakthroughs,” Jedao said after they had perused the summary. “With the exception of the fungal cocoon, most of the military stuff is similar to before. And we don’t want to resort to the cocoon because cleanup would cost a fortune. It’s nice to see that war never changes.”
Cheris glanced sharply at the shadow, but the eyes were unrevealing. “The heretics will know what to expect from us,” she said.
“I wasn’t planning on zapping them with a secret weapon anyway,” Jedao said. “Of course, it’s possible that
they
have nasty new exotics. The only way to find out is to get close enough to see what they throw at us.”
When they turned to the fourth display, there were two rapid taps at the door. The Nirai technician entered without waiting for any acknowledgment. “I am a mirror in your hands, but I break at your kiss,” the Nirai said with a wicked smile.
“Water,” Jedao said blandly. “That riddle is older than the hexarchate. Cheris, could you reset five to show power allocations? Thank you.”
“A riddle should never admit its own age,” the Nirai said. He found himself a chair, sat down, and started a solitaire game with jeng-zai cards.
“Ignore him,” Jedao said to Cheris. “Tell me about the class 22-5 mothdrives. If the Pale Fracture weren’t a calendrical dead zone, they would almost be good enough to fuel a whole new wave of expansion.”
“Don’t get cocky,” the Nirai said without looking up, “you have enough problems already.”
“One could hope for some variety in opponents,” Jedao said.
Cheris blinked. She didn’t think she had imagined the chill in his voice. But the Nirai’s expression was serene, as if he hadn’t heard it at all.
“About the swarm,” Jedao went on. “I have to admit that the new – sorry, not new to you – cindermoth class is impressive, but I have no intuition for its performance just looking at the numbers, and you’ve never served on one yourself.”
As if. “No,” Cheris said. There were only six cindermoths in the hexarchate, and it astonished her that two of them, the
Sincere Greeting
and
Unspoken Law
, were available for their use. Cheris wasn’t sure how their commanders would react to the situation. “I do have a question about protocol.”
“Ask.”
“How is your rank going to be handled? Especially since no one else can hear you?”
“Once we assemble the swarm, they’ll brevet you to general on my behalf.”
Cheris tried not to look appalled.
“If you sneeze wrong, they’ll shoot you first and sort it out later. Kel Command insists I can’t be stripped of rank until they put everyone through the appropriate ceremony, but they never seem to get around to it.”
Because they wanted to retain him for their use, and they could presumably kill him at any time. But she didn’t say that.
After a moment, Jedao added, “There’s a very short list of exotic weapons that will kill both of us. Most exotics will kill me first without damaging you permanently, but once I’m out of the way, you’re just as vulnerable as anyone else. And you’ll still have to be careful around invariants. Let’s have the list of exotics on the sixth display after all. Yes, that search should bring it up.”
When Jedao said the list was very short, he meant it. There were only two weapons on it, the genial gun and the snakescratch dart. “Other than that,” Jedao said, “you don’t have anything to fear from the first shot. If they resort to an exotic, they want to recover you alive, so you’re probably safe. Not that the Nirai would ever want to run tests.”
“I heard that,” the Nirai said. “I’ll think of some especially for you, if you like.”
“Oh, good,” Jedao said, with considerably less deference than earlier, “I was beginning to think your imagination was running out. More seriously, tell me about the cindermoths’ capabilities. Your design, I’m guessing?”
“Mostly,” the Nirai said, “but why don’t you ask your anchor? Find out how good she is at numbers.” He didn’t just mean the dimensions, or how many dire cannons the moth carried, but the importance of those numbers and their interrelations in the context of the high calendar as a system of belief.
Cheris reflexively tried to read the expression Jedao wasn’t capable of having.
Jedao noticed. “I can make some estimates,” he said, “but I used computational tools to check them, or I consulted specialists. I couldn’t build a moth even if you gave me blueprints and a box of nails” – the Nirai was smirking – “but I can make them sing in battle. You’re going to be my specialist, Cheris. Tell me.”
There were certain figures in the cindermoth’s specifications that she would not ordinarily have had access to. She arrayed them in her head and saw the way the numbers aligned. “They’re agile,” she said after a while. “I hadn’t expected that.”
She pointed out the governing equations and the way they were linked to the power curves. Jedao went very quiet, then: “Put that into graphical form for me, if you would.”
Interesting. Math wasn’t his strong suit? But the request was easy enough to accommodate. She also used graphics to display how the cindermoths projected calendrical stability around them, and how their firepower compared to that of the smaller bannermoths. Using a standardized simulator, she showed how a single cindermoth would do against invariant ice, assuming perfect operation on both sides, and then two cindermoths, then six. It was almost a pity they couldn’t have all six; they had a synergistic effect on each other. She noticed that the Nirai was looking thoughtful as he watched her, but if he had anything to say, he kept it to himself.
Fortress of Scattered Needles, Analysis
Priority:
Personal
From:
: Vahenz afrir dai Noum
To:
Heptarch Liozh Zai
Calendrical Minutiae:
Year of the Fatted Cow, Month of the Chicken, and it’s bizarre that people voted in
farm animals
for this newfangled calendar, but make it Day of the Silkworm? Send me a memo if Doctrine has come up with something more thrilling.
My dear Zai, you must forgive my jitters. I don’t claim how much they claim the new day cycles in the Fortress should be easy to adapt to. The light has gone pale and cold everywhere, as though it came from some land of snow and stinging wings. I came here to get away from nuisances like planetary-style weather.
I urge you to reconsider tasking Analysis Team Three with that last Rahal justiciar. I’m as much for a delicious lead as the next woman, but this is the Rahal we’re talking about. If you want to know the truth, the Kel aren’t the ones you have to worry about suiciding on you, “suicide hawk” nothing. The Kel will at least look at the numbers and realize that it makes no sense to sacrifice ten of them to get one of you, bless their tiny brains. No: a Rahal will kill herself out of spite if some
abstract higher principle
tells her to. Still, I take it your mind is set on this matter, and it’s not in dispute that we have to purge the lot, so we’ll do it your way.
I know you skip the preliminary nonsense in favor of the meat of the report, so I should get started, eh? I’ve been monitoring communications from the tripwire guardswarm, you know I wouldn’t slack on that. You should appreciate that I was in the middle of a delightful bath with – never mind that, I don’t imagine you have any interest in such mundane pleasures. Suffice it to say that I’m even starting to see the up-down sweep of the data as I fall asleep.
The Kel have been keeping their distance. Like a dueling match, you know? But you don’t watch those either. Little swarms of paranoid scoutmoths darting in and out, that’s all we’ve been seeing. They’re monitoring the situation. No sign yet of a proper warswarm. As you might imagine, everyone in Analysis is on edge waiting to see what they’re going to throw at us.
And that’s the problem. Kel jokes aside, the hawks are trigger-happy, not slow on the draw. What we’re seeing is the Shuos leaning on them hard because if it were just up to the Kel hexarch, we wouldn’t be able to sleep for the bombs. They’re not just coming in bristling with guns. We could handle guns. They’re coming into this with a plan, which means some kind of twisty knotted-up Shuos plan. No luck cracking their encryption, but the thing is, they have to come to us sooner or later. If they lose the Entangled March completely, the surrounding marches start to go. It’s the beauty of rot-flow, and they’re not going to expect that our Analysis is as well-integrated as it is.
In the meantime, down at the firing range we’ve been using targets in the shapes of nine-tailed foxes. Good way to relieve stress. You should come join me sometime. Or at least come admire what an excellent shot I am. I hit the eyes every time.
Yours in calendrical heresy,
Vh.
A
SCHEMATIC OF
the Fortress of Scattered Needles spun slowly in the air. It resembled a swollen moon with six underground chambers, each holding 40,000 to 60,000 people, each differently structured. Defensive ribs held the Fortress together.
“Invariant ice,” Jedao was saying. “I don’t suppose anyone’s figured out where to get more of the stuff.”
Cheris looked at the Nirai, but he was ignoring them. “Not that an infantry captain would have heard,” Cheris said.
Invariant ice had the ability to generate shields in the surrounding space. The shields were impermeable to anything but a narrow band of communications frequencies. In principle, a sufficiently strong attack could overwhelm the shields and drain the ice of virtue. But the last Cheris had heard, even fury bombs would not suffice, and those were exotics anyway.
“I don’t know how you plan on getting past the shields,” Cheris said. The hexarchs had installed them at the central nexus point precisely because of their invulnerability. Calendrical effects were exaggerated at nexus points, and it had been taken for granted that invariant ice provided the Fortress enough protection.
“How many people have tried?” Jedao asked.
“They die before they get close enough,” Cheris said, “but it’s still a bad situation.” She consulted one of the standardized simulators and ran a very simplified scenario. The after-battle statistics glowed at her. “I don’t think the hexarchs are going to be impressed with a twenty-nine-year siege.”
Jedao laughed quietly. “It won’t take that long. We’re not fighting the ice, Cheris, we’re fighting the people using the ice. Let’s see what intelligence we have on the Fortress.”
They divided up the summaries and the most relevant-looking of the individual reports. “I don’t suppose you’re also trained to handle intelligence work,” Jedao said.
The Nirai was now arranging cards face-up. At the center was the Drowned General. Cheris winced at the reference to her situation.
“Sorry,” Cheris said to Jedao. “Why don’t you tell me what to look for?”
“The obvious things. Who set this up, and how? With a locus like the Fortress, it can’t be accidental. Someone targeted the Fortress and succeeded. I’m surprised that the Rahal justiciars in residence didn’t catch it and get rid of the problem in the usual blunt Rahal fashion. Which suggests that a lot of parameters were held at the tipping point and nudged over at the right moment. That would have taken a lot of organization.”