Read The Saga of Seven Suns: Veiled Alliances Online
Authors: Kevin J. Anderson
Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General
14
DOBRO DESIGNATE REKAR’H
Over the course of four years, the human colony town expanded greatly on Dobro. The Ildiran workers put in so many hours of labor that the human builders could barely keep up.
The children of the
Burton
had their own playgrounds, and the colonists could explore the landscape and plan far into the future. Best of all, they had hope again. The colonists remembered how to sing and tell stories. They interacted with the Ildirans and learned about their civilization, hearing tales from their race’s gigantic historical epic, the
Saga of Seven Suns
.
The Dobro Designate felt that his splinter colony was thriving as never before. And he thrived as well.
Chrysta Logan had taken up residence with Rekar’h, and together they guided the two settlements in close harmony, as partners. He cared for her, and that surprised him. The humans had brought a panoply of new experiences and insights to Dobro.
It was a model settlement, and the colonists had no desire to return to Earth; in fact, the Mage-Imperator had not informed the Hansa of the
Burton
’s rescue, yet. Dobro was quickly becoming a benchmark of what the two races could do together.
He and Chrysta spent the day together, inspecting new acreage where corn and wheat had been planted from the last viable seed stock salvaged from the
Burton
. Human crops, which had proved nutritious and also pleasant to Ildiran tastes, grew in many of the fields around the settlements.
But as they walked, Rekar’h could sense that she was preoccupied or troubled. Her footsteps were heavy, her expression distant. He wondered if she could be thinking back to the old mutiny aboard the generation ship, the colonists who had challenged her authority. With her close ties to the Designate, Chrysta should never need to fear further unrest.
He addressed her mood directly. “Chrysta, has something happened? You look concerned.”
She paused, gave him a wan smile. “It’s that obvious? I thought Ildirans couldn’t read human emotions.”
“I can read you.” He stood stiffly, not sure what to do.
She leaned against him, resting her head on his chest and slipped her arms around his waist. “We have a problem—or maybe an opportunity. I never expected this to happen.” An uncertain smile flickered on her lips. “I’m pregnant.”
Each time he returned to Ildira and basked in the combined sunlight that flooded the peaceful skies, Rekar’h was reminded of what he had given up when he left to take charge of the splinter colony.
When he stepped away from the shuttle, returning home with his surprising and important news, he could not put aside the longing that weighed down his heart. The home world’s sky was bright, the air fresh, the civilization so vibrant around him. Just looking at the dazzling Prism Palace, the Mage-Imperator’s seat of power, he remembered his early life here, the joys of growing up under the seven suns, cradled in the safety net of the
thism
racial telepathy.
The Prism Palace was a graceful sculpture of crystalline domes piled on top of one another, stained glass panels, reflective spheres that surrounded a single central skysphere. No other structure in the Spiral Arm had ever been, or would ever be, so magnificent.
But ruling Dobro was his duty, and now—especially with Chrysta Logan there—he’d grown fond of the quiet, grassy world. He saw much merit in that place, a worthy outpost for the Ildiran Empire . . . even though it was nothing like Ildira itself.
The Dobro Designate closed his eyes as he stepped away from the shuttle and drew a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again to the brilliance, he was surprised to see his oldest noble brother waiting for him. “Prime Designate Cyroc’h! You came to see me yourself.”
The Mage-Imperator’s heir had long white hair, effeminate features, and a thin voice. “Welcome back to Ildira, brother. You look pale. I think you have spent too long in Dobro’s dim sunshine.”
Despite Ildira’s obvious marvels, Rekar’h felt obligated to defend his world. “Dobro is my home, Cyroc’h, despite its limitations. Yes, I miss the Prism Palace, but my own planet has grown brighter in recent years, thanks to the arrival of the humans. Much has changed, and I need to report to our father. I’ve made quite an astonishing discovery.”
Cyroc’h folded his hands together and glided along. “Let me take you to him.” The brothers entered the Prism Palace’s bright corridors and walked beneath the immense crystalline domes. “The Mage-Imperator already sees and feels everything in our empire. He is connected to all of us through the
thism
.”
The Dobro Designate said, “Even so, some things are better explained in person.”
As they entered the central skysphere, Adar Bali’nh joined them, greeting Rekar’h. “The Mage-Imperator and I were just discussing the current explorations of the humans in the Spiral Arm.”
“I have news for him that will be of greater interest—about my experiences with the
Burton
refugees.”
“You have taken one as a lover?” Cyroc’h asked. “As an experiment?”
A flare of indignation rippled through him, a surprising reaction. “Yes, but not as an experiment. I find her . . . completely engaging.”
Adar Bali’nh observed, “It would have happened eventually in any case, Prime Designate. They are an attractive species, and they find us attractive—at least the noble kithmen.”
The skysphere was a huge transparent vault filled with misty air, flying creatures, and a suspended ball of vegetation that floated like a verdant island near the apex of the dome. A holographic image of the Mage-Imperator’s benevolent cherubic face hovered overhead, surveying all who entered the Prism Palace. Below, in his levitating chrysalis chair, the enormously fat leader reclined, surrounded by a cocoon of cushions and flanked by six guard kithmen.
At the arrival of Rekar’h, the Mage-Imperator raised his head. “I have been sensing Dobro often, my son. I already know that you have mated with the female leader. A surprising but effective way to exert control over their people.”
The Designate nodded, feeling even more uncomfortable. “We administer the two colonies very effectively together.”
The Mage-Imperator shifted in his seat to make himself more comfortable, while small-statured attenders rushed forward to see how they could help; he ignored them. “I already know of the child, as well. That was most unexpected . . . and has given me much food for thought.”
Rekar’h gave a respectful bow. “I had not imagined it was possible for Ildirans and humans to interbreed, Father.”
Prime Designate Cyroc’h sounded haughty, as if he already knew as much as the Mage-Imperator did. “The Ildiran race is very flexible and adaptable. Our genetics prove that with our many different kiths. Is it so surprising that we could bond with a race that looks similar to us?”
“We will have to ask the scientist kithmen,” Rekar’h said. “I was completely surprised when it happened.”
While the Mage-Imperator pondered, they waited for him to speak. “You have made a very important discovery, my son. For many generations, I have conducted breeding experiments to develop new kith combinations with enhanced physical or mental abilities. I worry about the Ildiran Empire. We must prepare. Eventually, our people may need a powerful weapon.”
Adar Bali’nh wore a grave look on his face. “A weapon against what, Liege? And how can the Solar Navy help protect us?”
“The future may hold threats not clearly revealed in the
Saga of Seven Suns
. Discovering the humans was a surprise, perhaps a beneficial one. And now, thanks to the Dobro Designate, we know that our people can interbreed with them. I wish to discover what possibilities this offers.” He shifted in his chrysalis chair again, raising himself higher. “Therefore, I command a full investigation into the genetic potential of humans. Interbreed them with various kiths and see what the hybrid offspring have to offer. We must learn how we can use this new race.”
Prime Designate Cyroc’h smiled. “For the time being, I suggest we let Earth believe the
Burton
remains lost. That will free us to do as we wish on Dobro without diplomatic complications.”
Unsettled, Rekar’h pondered his words carefully. They were discussing the situation in a clinical, emotionless way, but he realized he could not be entirely objective. Chrysta Logan was his lover, soon to be the mother of his child. She was not just a
specimen
.
“Father, your loyal kithmen on Dobro will mate with whomever you wish, but I do not know if I can ensure the full cooperation of the human colonists. They have different views on breeding. Perhaps we should use a lighter touch.”
From the chrysalis chair, the Mage-Imperator’s gaze became hard, and a thrill of fear went down the Dobro Designate’s spine. “Find a way to make them cooperate, my son. That is my command.”
Rekar’h swallowed hard and had no choice but to bow in submission. “As you wish, Liege.”
15
THARA WEN
She had discovered how to become part of the sprawling, interconnected network of the worldforest, but Thara Wen was only the first—the first of many.
Thara often walked in peaceful solitude far from the village. She wandered among the trees and scaled the thick trunks all the way to the canopy, where she danced like a ballerina along the thin branches, bounding from one cluster of fronds to another. But she never felt alone. Because of the vast forest mind, she was always in the company of a multitude of friends, all of whom watched her and watched out for her. Thara felt as if she lived between two different worlds, and she loved them both.
Over the years, other Theron colonists, both young and old, followed Thara’s example and became part of the worldforest mind. She guided them into dense thickets of branches and leaves where the worldtrees could embrace them, commune with them, and change them. They were healthy, fit, and content as they emerged transformed with smooth emerald skin.
They had been nicknamed, appropriately, “green priests,” though they studied and respected the great tree mind rather than worshipped it. Each green priest could touch the trees and fall into a trance, connect with the reservoir of thoughts and memories the worldforest had experienced over thousands of years, a marvelous ecological encyclopedia.
To Thara’s surprise, she discovered that the tree mind was just as voracious to learn from humans—wanting to know their thoughts, their music, their history, their science, their legends. In an attempt to give back and share everything, both the good parts of humanity and the bad, green priests spent many hours each day providing input for the worldtree mind. Thara and her companions read aloud from novels, recited poetry, read epics, or simply told historical facts. First, the green priests gave the background on the eleven generation ships from Earth, including the
Caillié
that had settled on Theroc, but the green priests also gave a broader history of Earth. The worldtrees absorbed all the information and responded with great appreciation.
Because of her changes, Thara had a greater grasp of herself, of this planet and its ecosystems, and of the whole universe. She had never felt so utterly insignificant in all her life, nor so completely content.
Now, as she climbed down from a worldtree, her skin warm from spending the morning out in the bright sunlight above the interconnected boughs, she found the village leader squatting cross-legged on the ground, waiting for her. Norris Brovnik looked up and smiled. “I thought you’d never come down.”
“I never want to.” She hopped gracefully to the forest floor and stood before him.
“I have a request in my capacity as the village leader . . . the leader of Theroc, I suppose.” He adjusted the white wrappings that covered his head. “We’ve received a message from the Hanseatic League, a communiqué from King Ben, delivered by the Ildiran supply ship that just arrived. He wants to learn how our people have thrived in the years since the Ildirans deposited us here.”
“Why the sudden interest?” Thara asked. “I didn’t think we were part of the Terran Hanseatic League.”
“That’s not entirely clear, and it never mattered before.” Brovnik shrugged. “Now that Earth also has the Ildiran stardrive, they plan to spread out and establish many new colonies. Since we’re the first human settlement the Ildirans helped establish, I suppose they want to look at our example. Or maybe the King is just curious to learn more about the Ildirans.”
Two small condorflies circled his face, either in a mating dance or just being playful. Brovnik brushed them away, and they flitted off. “I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t send someone to Earth. We haven’t had any direct contact with them for a century and a half. There’s nothing wrong with maintaining relations with our home world.”
“Not at all,” Thara said.
“The Ildiran ship has offered to take our diplomatic mission back to Earth as soon as their shuttle is refueled. They will be ready to depart soon.” She could tell Brovnik had more to say, but couldn’t guess what it might be. Finally, the village leader blurted, “Thara, I’d like
you
to go on the expedition—as our official Theron ambassador to Earth. Because of your connection with the worldforest, you’re the perfect choice.”
That startled her. “An ambassador?” She hadn’t given much thought to Earth for most of her life, and now that she was part of the worldforest, she’d never dreamed of leaving. On the other hand, maybe the people back there needed to know about the worldforest, to understand what she had learned.
“Let me ask. . . .” She closed her eyes, inhaled the heavy, humid air, and extended her hands to touch the golden-scaled trunk of the nearest worldtree. She sent out her thoughts. The trees listened to her, and they answered.
When she released her touch, blinking her eyes as she recovered from the brief dizziness, she nodded. “All right. The trees are very curious about Earth. I’ll go there as an ambassador for both the Theron colony and for the worldforest. But the trees have also asked me to do something for them.” She slowly circled the huge trunk, reached up, and peeled back the thick golden scales to find a small treeling there, a separate growth that would spread out and detach, drop its own roots, and begin to grow.
“I must bring a special gift for the King.” Thara cupped the delicate treeling in her palms. “A small piece of the worldforest to plant on Earth.”