Timeweb Trilogy Omnibus (168 page)

“And that’s where the Web Spinners come in,” Noah said.

“Precisely. Like huge spiders, the Web Spinners extruded the strands of our galactic web, after consuming the fibers of deep-shaft, piezoelectric emeralds. So that the races could travel on this glorious infrastructure, the Sublime Creator formed the Aopoddae podships, a race of sentient spacecraft capable of transporting other races across the galaxy in a matter of moments. Our galaxy is indeed a wondrous creation, containing countless life forms that are supposed to work in harmony with one another. There are even infinitesimally small nanocreatures that live inside the webbing. Another race entirely. They are secret beings … except to us.

“Since it is spun from ingested emerald fibers, Timeweb glows faintly green. The same glow is also found in the sectoid chambers of podships, making it possible for ship pilots to communicate with each other across vast distances via the galactic web that the chambers are in direct contact with. The nehrcom transmission system of the merchant princes also uses these piezoelectric emeralds in a slightly different fashion, aligning the stones so that they bounce signals off the web.”

“And my cocoon can glow, like a green sun in space.”

“Yes. Truly remarkable.”

“And dangerous in the wrong hands,” the towering Elder named Dabiggio added. Scowling more than usual, he sat on one side of her at the long bench.

“Fortunately, that is not the case,” Kre’n said, glancing at him and speaking in a scolding tone.

“You say the Web Spinners are spiders?” Noah asked.

“No, I said they are
like
spiders, with certain similarities—but significant differences as well. The creatures are immense in size, with remarkably strong exoskeletons that are not subject to the expansion limitations of planet-bound spiders, which would collapse if they were scaled up too much.”

“It should not be possible for them to be so large,” Noah said, “just as Timeweb should not be possible. Even though I know the vast web exists and that it links the entire galaxy, I am still amazed that something so intricate holds it all together, and that most of the races can’t even detect its existence.”

“Truly, Timeweb is a grand and marvelous concept,” Kre’n said, “but there have been problems. One has been apparent for some time now. The web is infinitely strong but fragile in many ways, and requires a great deal of work to maintain it. Initially, the Sublime Creator assigned Tulyans to perform this work, and gave us dominion over podships to get us around the galaxy. This system fell into disarray when another race grew in numbers and took control of the podships away from us.
Parviis
. The Sublime Creator didn’t actually create Parviis directly; they arose from the biotech laboratories of the Adurians, whom he did create himself.”

“And even though your race were cast out so ungraciously,” Noah said, “you continued to perform whatever maintenance and repair work you could, on a piecemeal basis. A noble undertaking, I must say.”

She looked dismal. “The Adurians caused a lot of trouble in ancient days, as they have in recent times. We have always been wary of them, as we have been of their surrogates, the Parviis.”

“Tesh Kori told me that Humans are an offshoot of Parviis.”

“That is true,” Kre’n said, “which serves to explain some of the problems humankind has caused. But that is another story, and you are not typical of the race.”

The comment made Noah think of Tesh (who also was atypical of her race), and of their unborn baby, which would be a hybrid of the Human and Parvii genetic lines.

Just then, Eshaz hurried into the chamber and addressed the Council. “Our deep-space observers report the Web Spinners are on the move,” he said. “Heading in this direction. They’re leaving a wake of destruction in their path—planetary systems, even the biggest, hottest suns wiped out and scattered into flaming embers. Nothing gets in their way. They just mow it down.”

“And their ETA?” Kre’n asked. She looked very concerned, but amazingly steady. Noah detected no panic there, nor on the faces of the other Elders. But in their long experience, this must be the worst of events.

“Eighteen minutes.”

Feeling his pulse quicken, Noah said, “I must return to the cocoon.”

“We can have you there in less than a minute,” Kre’n said. “But know this, valiant Human, before you go into battle: The Sublime Creator found the Web Spinners difficult to control, especially their leader, the Queen. Like the sentient races that are familiar to us, they were granted a form of free will. In their case, they had to be carefully and forcefully monitored while they built the Timeweb infrastructure—a process that took a very long time. When, at long last, they completed the vast construction project, the Sublime Creator confined them to the undergalaxy and sealed them there, so that they could not disturb him or the showcase of his marvelous creation—our own galaxy. Since then, the Queen of the Undergalaxy has ruled her stygian realm, and only that.”

“But we have an ancient prophecy,” said one of the other Elders, an elegant Tulyan man. “What the Web Spinners create they can also destroy.”

“So you’ve always known this was coming?” Noah asked.

“Our timeseers have long foretold these days,” Kre’n said, “and their visions have finally come upon us. Depending upon what happens next—and that we do not know—these are either the End of Days or a New Beginning.”

“And a battle plan?” Noah asked.

“Defend and attack. Against such an onrushing enemy, there can be no other plan.”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough where I fit into all of this,” Noah said.

Kre’n nodded, and said softly, “Our blessings be upon you, Master Noah.”

Then everyone hurried to their battle stations.

Chapter Seventy-Two

If they come for us, there will be no place to hide.

—Ancient Tulyan warning

The moment Noah set foot on the docking platform of the cocoon, he began to feel physically stronger. His skin wasn’t even in direct contact with the mottled gray-and-black flesh—only his shoes were—but he still felt an instant infusion of vitality greater than any before, and the fatigue seemed to fade entirely. The cocoon was becoming like a mother’s womb, providing nutrients for him in invisible ways.

But he didn’t have time to wonder about the nature or cause of the phenomenon. A tidal wave of destruction was on the way.

Thinker greeted him on the platform. “Did the meeting go well, Master Noah?”

“A new threat is on the way.” Taking less than a minute, he told the robot what he knew.

As Thinker listened, the lights around his metal faceplate glowed an angry shade of orange. Then he said, “We must fight back hard.”

“That is my intent. Now, I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait for me again, friend. I’m going back into the sectoid chamber of this cocoon.”

“The weapon room,” Thinker said.

“Essentially, yes. I wish it were not that way, but I have no choice.” With a grim expression, Noah gave the sentient robot an affectionate pat on the shoulder, feeling this might be the last time the two of them ever saw each other.

Thinker’s metal-lidded eyes blinked, as if fighting away tears that were not actually there. At least not physically.

Noah knelt on the platform, and touched his hands against the podship flesh. It became gray liquid around him. He felt the warmth of the alien cellular material, and allowed it to run up his arms.

“I’ve been given considerable autonomy in the use of the weapon,” Noah said, “and I’ll be focused on what I have to do.” The soft flesh covered his body, all the way up to his shoulders. “I can’t use a conventional webtalker to relay information—they say there’s too much disturbance around the cocoon—so I need you to remain in direct comlink contact with General Nirella and Doge Anton. Obtain their commands, and relay them to me.”

“What? Oh, you’re thinking I can use my organic interface connection on the podflesh, and that will put me in contact with you?”

“Try it now. Quickly.”

The familiar tentacle snaked out of Thinker’s alloy body, and darted into the gray-and-black flesh on a nearby bulkhead. “Yes,” the robot said, “I am now linked to your mind. It will work.”

“Good. One more thing. You’ve always been a de facto officer in the Liberator fleet, though no one has ever given you a rank.”

“No matter. I command the robots, but at the pleasure of Humans.”

“It
does
matter, my good friend. For your unflagging loyalty and service, you deserve more. Therefore, as Master of the Guardians, I hereby appoint you Vice-General, in charge of all robots. Tell Anton and Nirella I made a battlefield promotion. I’m sure they won’t countermand it.”

“Thank you, Master Noah. Where shall I meet you after our victory?”

“Anywhere on the cocoon,” Noah said, with a stiff smile. “I’ll know where you are, because it will be an extension of my own body.”

The alien flesh rose up Noah’s neck, to his chin.

“We’re very small in this galaxy, aren’t we?” Thinker said.

It was the last thing Noah heard before he swam into the flesh and became one with it. Again he seemed to cross a vast distance, as if traversing the entire universe. There were no stars, only a darkness that gradually began to glow with a soft green luminescence. Once more, he reached the sectoid chamber and rose to his feet inside, like an alien life form that had just been born and could already stand.

Again he pressed his face against the glowing green flesh of the sectoid chamber, and his enlarged countenance emerged on the outside of the cocoon, this time showing the podman features of his evolved face. He disengaged from the inverted dome of the Council Chamber, and floated free of it.

Noah felt like he was in a vast sea that stretched across the cosmos. All around him, as if his presence was connected to a vast cosmic circuit, he felt the energy source building, the raw, elemental power of the superweapon. He became a brilliant green sun in space with shining Noah-faces all around it, looking in all directions with the multiple humanoid eyes, casting spotlights of illumination to the farthest reaches of galactic existence. Noah was the cocoon; he was the weapon, and much more. He was a mote, a micro-organism, an embryonic life form, but he extended across time and space. Again he was in direct contact with the primal energy of the universe.

Peering through the green illumination, Noah saw hundreds of the immense, dark creatures scrambling across the podways like huge hunting daggs following a scent, going toward the starcloud along the identical secondary route that Noah had taken. He felt a chill. He still could not make out details of the monsters, only glimpses of multiple legs beneath their bodies, propelling them forward at high speed.

Web Spinners.

As if in response to his thoughts, the massed Aopoddae stirred around him, an agitation of ancient flesh. Trembling to the very depths of his own soul, Noah Watanabe knew that he would have preferred to hold back, that he didn’t really want to be any part of a weapon, and especially not one of this frightening scope and power. But he was coming to believe that this horrendous device stood right in the middle of his evolutionary path, blocking his way until he used it. He could not go around the duty, could not avoid the dreadful task that lay before him, no matter how much he might like to. Causing destruction ran counter to every instinct he had. Throughout history, the very worst genocides and ecological disasters had been brought about by warfare. Even the current galactic-wide crisis might have been started by military conflict, and at the very minimum it had been severely exacerbated by it.

Must I use violence to quell violence,
he thought,
to begin the process of restoring the galaxy?
And he wondered if his own hesitation, his own doubts, were causing the agitation in the podship flesh in which he was immersed.

He wondered, as well, how the mysterious cocoon weapon functioned, what its workings looked like. It seemed to be an unanswerable question, of enormous proportions. The thing just existed, and in certain circumstances the incredible weapon could spew destruction across the galaxy—like an immense green-flame thrower. He sensed, however, that even that might not be enough against such a threat.

Less than eleven minutes had passed since the Tulyans had estimated the eighteen-minute arrival time, so there should be seven left. But Noah thought it might be more like three now. In the last few moments, the Web Spinners had increased their speed, in anticipation of reaching their goal.

They were hungry.…

* * * * *

Clinging to the forward wall of
Webdancer
’s much smaller sectoid chamber, Tesh Kori monitored the flurry of activity in the meeting rooms and corridors of the flagship, and in space around her. Through her connection with the podflesh, she listened to the interior of the vessel, while looking outward through visual sensors in the hull. The Liberator fleet had been divided up and positioned according to General Nirella’s orders, prepared to defend the starcloud against the fast-approaching threat.

Web Spinners, they called them. Ancient creatures from the undergalaxy. Demons? That was the only parallel she could draw to Parvii legends, which described the undergalaxy as a stygian realm, inhabited by evil spirits.

She waited for the next command from her superiors. Agonizing seconds ticked by. Through the misty gases of the starcloud, Tesh saw Noah’s cocoon moving to a forward position, where General Nirella had ordered him to go. She thought of Noah’s child growing in her womb, and wondered if they would ever form a family—the three of them. She desperately hoped so, but nothing about her relationship with Noah was conventional. Besides, war was filled with uncertainties, and too many of the possibilities were not good.

Tesh had lived for more than seven centuries, and in that time had dated men of many star systems and galactic races. But never before had she met anyone even remotely like Noah Watanabe, nor had she ever experienced feelings for any of them that approached those she felt for him.