Absorption (59 page)

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Authors: John Meaney

BOOK: Absorption
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Ulfr moved off and sat on the ground, pulling his cloak around himself and Brandr, who lay close, panting. Ulfr patted Brandr and waited.
 
Finally, Eydís knelt down facing him.
 
‘Show me your hands.’
 
Ulfr did that. She held them, then made passes across his chest and shoulder. He felt his own body make small adjustments in reaction, all without his thinking about it. Whether his body moved toward or away from her hands, he could not tell.
 
She stared at him and breathed, and his eyes defocused.
 
‘My words of power accompany you now, and as you choose to blink - that’s right - you can breathe out now and close your eyes as you walk farther and farther down the dreamworld path, because there are things you wish to learn and things you already know how to walk into dreams right now—’
 
His head was down and his eyes were closed, yet he could see every blade of grass and sprig of heather, he could taste the clouds and feel the deep earth, and he could hear the separate movement of each insect’s wing. He drifted, rolled without substance across the land; and finally returned to his body, as it was time to awaken.
 
‘—coming back to me
now
.’
 
Ulfr’s eyes came open.
 
‘I felt like Heimdall,’ he said. ‘Seeing everything, hearing everything.’
 
‘As Watcher of the Gods’ - Eydís pointed at him - ‘he will be the one to warn Óthinn by sounding his horn, when the All-Father will go to Valhalla to muster his Soul-Fetchers and their armies for the final battle.’
 
‘I . . . Yes, I know. I didn’t mean . . . that.’
 
‘You stride between worlds easily, good warrior. You have had a guide to dreamworld, someone you care for.’
 
‘Eira,’ he said. ‘She’s back home. I care about her.’
 
‘And what else? Your voice holds doubt.’
 
‘I slew her brother. Not by choice.’
 
‘Ah. And she is a
volva
, young and trained like our Heithrún?’
 
‘Yes.’
 
Eydís shook her head.
 
‘Is something wrong, priestess?’
 
‘You are bound to another, but light or dark, I cannot tell.’
 
‘To Eira?’
 
‘You are both the strongest and the weakest,’ she said. ‘You face some demons with courage yet fall grovelling before others, those that are most subtle.’
 
‘No . . .’
 
Then Eydís shook herself, drew her garments close, and said: ‘Chief Gulbrandr and your own Chief Folkvar have marked you as a good man, potentially a leader.’
 
Ulfr shook his head.
 
‘Stay away from Heithrún,’ Eydís went on. ‘This pains me, warrior . . . But she deserves better than you would give her.’
 
‘But I’m not—I mean, she and I aren’t . . . You know.’
 
Eydís looked up into the sky.
 
‘Do you see war-ravens, Ulfr?’
 
‘The sky is clear.’
 
But Eydís shook her head, and her eyes shone when she focused on him.
 
‘You are mistaken.’
 
She got up then and returned to Heithrún’s side, leaving Ulfr to wonder what had happened, and to watch as on every side warriors were stirring, the gathered bands of fighters come to meet in peace, some far from their homes, while all around was the vastness of the Middle World, heathland and ice, shining lake and rising mountain, and volcanic plumes climbing into a sky that to him looked serene, its blues and greens of ice mixed with only streaks of gold and glimmers of scarlet that ran like blood through a pierced helm, while in the distance a dark speck moved.
 
The raven was watching.
 
FIFTY
 
FULGOR, 2603 AD
 
On the patio outside the Pilots Sanctuary, three men stood, each working commands in holovolumes with serious intent. Jed Goran, as the Pilot in charge, was initializing every system of the building inside, with the exception of one. That was Al Morgan’s responsibility: arming the destruction net, ensuring they could detonate the building with a simple signal, as soon as they were aloft.
 
Meanwhile, psychologist Angus Cho was monitoring the ending of a world.
 
‘Two cities in Tarquil Province are coming to life,’ he said. ‘It’s spreading.’
 
‘Shit,’ muttered Al, still working. ‘Are people getting away?’
 
‘Trying to. Thousands are just getting crushed or sucked inside moving buildings.’
 
Then a mu-space ship crashed into being overhead: black, trimmed with red, and powerful.
 
‘Who the fuck is—?’
 
‘
I’m Carl Blackstone.
’ His image appeared in the holovolume Angus had been working with. ‘
I’ve been agent-in-place here for over twenty years. I’m appending auth codes.
’
 
Authorization data flared orange in a subsidiary holo.
 
‘Yes, sir,’ said Angus. ‘How we can help? My colleagues are about to summon their own ships.’
 
‘
You need to get clear. I’d like to get as many people as possible offplanet, but know this: at some point, the entity that is absorbing Luculenti will also be able to absorb anyone at all.
’
 
‘Holy—’
 
‘
Exactly. The only chance is a massed evacuation at once, and your ships—
’
 
‘Only two,’ said Angus. ‘I don’t have one.’
 
‘
—are not enough. I’m going to get help.
’
 
‘But it will take too long.’
 
At that, Jed Goran stepped back from his display and stared at Carl Blackstone’s image.
 
‘You have my respect, sir. It’s an honour.’
 
‘
Likewise, Pilot.
’ Carl smiled. ‘
Will you do me a favour? My son Roger is here, probably in Lucis City.
’
 
‘I’ll fetch him out.’
 
‘
Here’s the code for his tu-ring.
’ More data shone. ‘
Bypassing Skein, so it ought to stand out.
’
 
‘Got it. Good—’
 
‘
And I’ve something for him. Could you give him this?
’
 
A small gap melted open in the black ship’s hull, and a thin black tendril extruded, bearing a rounded triangle of black, webbed with red and gold, about the size of a young child. It descended; and Jed took it in his forearms.
 
‘I have it, sir.’
 
‘
Thank you.
’
 
The tendril detached and sucked back up inside the ship; then its hull resealed.
 
Al said: ‘We’re not supposed to—’
 
‘Shut up,’ whispered Angus.
 
‘I’ll find your son,’ promised Jed. ‘And I’ll give him this.’
 
‘
You have my thanks, Pilot.
’
 
‘And you have my admiration, sir. Godspeed.’
 
‘
Blackstone out.
’
 
The black dart ascended in a horizontal attitude; then it crashed forward and was gone.
 
‘That’s one hell of a ship,’ said Angus. ‘Not to mention its Pilot.’
 
‘I don’t understand.’ Al shut down his own display. ‘What’s he planning to do?’
 
‘Hellflight.’ Angus looked at Jed, who was still holding the convex triangle entrusted to him. ‘The kind you don’t survive.’
 
‘Oh.’
 
‘Exactly.’
 
 
The peacekeeper flyer hovered, its main hatch still open, just above the roof of Ebony Tower. All around, the buildings of Quarter Moon had been among the last to begin moving, perhaps because so many were old, solid stone. But the quickglass towers among them were beginning to writhe now; and the black roof beneath Roger’s feet was starting to soften and glisten. The building shifted, then stopped.
 
‘All right,’ said Helen Eisberg. ‘Whatever threat your girlfriend was presenting to Skein, I think we’re all agreed. It’s too far gone now to make a difference.’
 
‘Luculentus Li-Cheng said she was clear of infecting code.’
 
‘Do we trust him? I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.’ She and one of her officers were still on the rooftop, along with Roger plus Alisha in her stretcher. ‘Let’s lift her inside and get the fuck out of here.’
 
They took hold, Eisberg at Alisha’s head, the other officer at her feet. Roger looked at them, then at the devastation across the city, the city that lived and moved and killed its former citizens. He had no idea what to do, besides get clear if he could.
 
Overhead, thunder crashed, audible above the horrific clamour; then a silver-and-bronze ship with shining delta wings was gliding down.
 
‘Mu-space ship,’ said Roger.
 
‘No shit,’ said Eisberg.
 
It was Roger’s tu-ring that chimed, then formed a holovolume.
 
‘
I’m Pilot Jed Goran, and I think you need a lift.
’
 
The huge ship continued to descend.
 
‘Is that a general offer?’ asked Eisberg. ‘Because I think this city has had it.’
 
‘
For anyone who wants to come.
’
 
Now it floated exactly level with the roof, holding steady, one wingtip only centimetres from the parapet. In its hull, a wide opening melted.
 
‘
There are delta-bands enough for everyone.
’
 
Eisberg bit her lip. Then she turned to the peacekeeper flyer, to the troopers sat inside.
 
‘Anyone who wants to get offworld, come out here now and get aboard.’
 
Roger stared at her.
 
‘You all have to come with us,’ he said.
 
‘Thanks, pal. But I’ve got family.’
 
‘I—’
 
‘Go, and take the girl with you.’
 
Two troopers came out; the others remained in their flyer, and gave Eisberg a hand to climb inside.
 
Three troopers and Roger lifted the stretcher with ease. The tricky part was getting it over the parapet as Ebony Tower stirred once more. But then they were moving along the smooth wing - too smooth, a strong gust of wind would send them sliding off - and finally they were at the opening, and climbing inside.
 
The ship slipped away from the building just as the quickglass began to thrash. It whipped up an extrusion towards the peacekeeper flyer, but its pilot flicked it hard to starboard, into a fast short dive while its hatch was still sealing, then the flyer’s nose went up and it started its ascent.
 
‘
Nice work,
’ came Jed Goran’s voice. ‘
Let’s see if I can do as well. Delta-bands on, everyone.
’
 
In the passenger hold, someone had already put a band on Alisha’s forehead and activated it. The three troopers had their own bands fastened; one of them held out a band to Roger.
 
‘I don’t really need it,’ Roger said.
 
‘Oh. Er . . . Right.’
 
The troopers lay down on couches - there were plenty to spare - and pressed thumbs to delta-bands, sending themselves to sleep. The hull had already flowed shut, intact once more.
 
‘
You can come forward.
’
 
‘Thank you, Pilot.’
 
‘
Call me Jed.
’
 
‘I’m Roger.’
 
‘
That, I already know.
’

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