Cadmians Choice (22 page)

Early on Sexdi, just
after dawn, Dainyl stepped onto trie Table in the Hall of Justice. He wanted to
visit Dereka before Shastylt decided it was a poor idea—or sent Dainyl
somewhere else. He let his Talent link to the darkness below and within the
Table, and felt himself dropping ...

... into the chill of
the translation tube. Immediately, he concentrated on locating the crimson-gold
directional wedge that was Dereka.

Again, for a moment,
he thought he sensed the faintest purplish pink shading to the locator for
Dereka, but when he extended a Talent line to link with the Table there, he no
longer sensed the faint purplish overshades. Nor did he sense anything like the
purplish arms.

With no sense of
delay, Dainyl felt himself sliding through the silvered barrier, which seemed
to melt away, rather than shatter into shards.

He stood on another
Table, in a chamber with but a single wall hanging facing him, a rendering of a
green eternastone tower set against a beige background, and bordered in crimson.
The light-torches on the walls were at full illumination, revealing that the
bare stone walls, unlike those of any other Table chamber he had visited, were
of gold eternastone. The main doorway from the chamber was closed by a heavy
door of golden wood, but Dainyl didn’t think it was oak.

In the open doorway
to the hidden chambers stood another recorder. His shimmering black hair bore
faint traces of silver, a sign of great age, if not so great as that of Asulet.
He had to be the oldest alector Dainyl had met outside the confines of Lyterna,
both from his hair and from the dark purple of his Talent. His smile was warm,
welcoming, and without the calculation Dainyl had sensed behind other
projections of warmth.

“Submarshal, Recorder
Sulerya said that you might be paying us a visit. I’m Jonyst.”

“The most independent
of recorders, I understand.” Dainyl stepped off the Table.

“I have been called
that, just as some have called you the most independent of submarshals. Welcome
to Dereka.”

“Thank you. I’m
hoping for a better look at the city than in my past visits. Those were all too
long ago, and I really never left the Myrmidon compound.”

“Few Myrmidons do. It
takes a special alector to feel at home in Dereka.”

“Is that because some
of the city holds a sense of the ancients?”

“It holds more than
that. Much of this building they built. Not the interior walls, but the outer
walls and the internal structural walls. When the first engineers realized that
the only place to put the Table was here...” The recorder shook his head. “We
have ten times the space we need, but none of the first regional alectors
wanted their people here.”

“What do you do with
it all, then?”

“The transport staff
has the top floor, and everyone working for me has a capacious study, even the
driver. It’s a waste in some ways, but... the exterior maintenance is almost
nothing.”

“You’ve never seen
any sign of the ancients? Has anyone?”

“I’m convinced that
the few survivors must visit unseen. I’ve occasionally sensed Talent of a type
neither we nor even the wild Talents of landers possess.”

Dainyl could sense
the shading of the truth. “Occasionally?” His tone was both dry and suggestive.

Jonyst paused,
looking at Dainyl. Then he nodded. “That’s right. You ran into an ancient in
Dramur, didn’t you?”

How had the recorder
known that? “I did.”

“It’s more than
occasional, but not all that often. I tell everyone it’s occasional, though.
You understand why, I trust.”

Dainyl did. “The
alectors who like Dereka are those who have less Talent or who are less Talent-receptive?”

“That’s generally
so—except for the regional alector and his senior assistants. The building
where they work is built partly on a dead zone. There are a number in this
area. They thought that would discourage any ancients. It did. It also ages
alectors far more quickly. So the term for a regional alector here is only five
years. It’s said that Samist once sent someone who schemed against him here for
fifteen years. The fellow died a year after he left.”

“I can’t say that I’d
heard that.”

“Few have. It was a
good hundred years back.”

“The Duarch Samist
generally appoints the RA here?” asked Dainyl.

“Samist appoints the
RA here. Khelaryt does Lysia. Samist appointed Yadaryst last year. He’s a
cousin of some sort, translated from Ifryn maybe ten years back.”

Dainyl nodded.

“In the end, it
probably won’t matter. Besides, no one really wants to think about Dereka.”

“Why not? Because it’s
linked to the ancients? And because of strange occurrences here?”

“There are strange
occurrences everywhere.”

“It’s the only place
where large numbers of skylances have vanished. Could that have been the work
of the ancients? Or is there another explanation?”

Jonyst fingered his
square chin. “It had to be a wild lander Talent or an ancient. Wild alector
Talents don’t last long here.”

“What about the five
alectors who disappeared without a trace? Do you think the ancients had
anything to do with them?”

“It’s possible.”

“You don’t think so,
I take it?”

“All five had
recently been translated from Ifryn. They were traveling across Corus taking
lifeforce measurements for the Archon. These days, that could be a dangerous
occupation.”

“It could, depending
on what they discovered.”

Jonyst looked
intently at Dainyl. “What do you think their measurements showed?”

“From what I’ve seen,
total lifeforce on Acorus is behind what was planned and expected.”

“Just so. Like it was
any great surprise.” Jonyst snorted, then abruptly turned and walked to the
formal exit door. He released the first Talent-lock and opened the door. Dainyl
followed, careful to close the door and replace the Talent-seal before
following Jonyst up the stone stairs. The recorder opened the door at the top,
then closed it behind Dainyl, replacing the second Talent-lock.

The two stood in a
small foyer that opened into a larger chamber beyond, one with wide windows.
The windows, overlooking a boulevard, had extraordinarily low sills set in
walls paneled in the same golden wood as the doors, although Dainyl could sense
the eternastone walls behind

the wood. The room
was a library of sorts, he realized, although all the bookcases were set on the
inside walls. There were two circular tables, each surrounded by five
comfortable chairs.

“I haven’t seen a
recorder’s chambers like these before.”

“You won’t either. As
I told you, they’re not all that practical.” Jonyst laughed softly. His laugh
ended abruptly. “We’ll send you off in the carriage. The Myrmidon compound is
south of here, and it’s not a short walk.”

“That I do recall.”

“I like your wife. I
trust her. She’s got good judgment. Don’t make me change my mind.”

Dainyl managed not to
start, although he did blink. “I trust her judgment explicitly.”

“So I’d heard. Will
you be here long?”

“I’d only planned to
be here today.”

“That’s long enough.”
Jonyst turned again. “We’ll have to go the long way to get down to the
carriage.”

Dainyl had to hurry
to catch up to the shorter and older recorder. The building had ramps, one of
the few in Corus that did, rather than stairs, and the lower ramp led to a low
foyer, whose ceiling was less than half a yard above Dainyl’s head.

“Out through here.”

Under a portico,
clearly added later, waited a carriage.

“Guersa ... take the
submarshal where he needs to go, and wait for him.”

“Yes, sir.” The
driver, a blonde lander, nodded.

“Thank you for the
carriage,” Dainyl said politely.

“It’s the least we
can do, Submarshal. I’ll see you later today. Give my best to young Fhentyl.”
Jonyst nodded and moved back.

“That I will.” As he
stepped into the carriage, Dainyl glanced back north along the boulevard. In
the late-midmorning light, he saw yet another gold eternastone building and,
beyond it, the green eternastone tower that marked the major cities of the
Duarchy, and a few other locales of import.

“The Myrmidons, sir?
asked the driver.

“That’s right.”

Dainyl sat back in
the leather-covered seat, thinking. Sulerya had said Jonyst was independent.
The recorder had as much as told Dainyl not to hang around Dereka, and Dainyl
didn’t think the warning had much to do with the ancients.

Samist controlled
most of the appointments in Dereka, while Khelaryt controlled those in Lysia.
Those were exceptions to the rule, because usually the RA appointments were
alternated between the Duarches, and the High Alectors of the six branches
appointed their own people to their regional administrations. Why were Lysia
and Dereka different? Dainyl had no idea; he hoped Lystrana did.

The Myrmidon compound
was almost a full vingt south of any buildings in Dereka, and its gray stone
walls appeared somehow out of place, as did the feeder aqueduct that supplied
water. The Cadmian compound was north of the city, Dainyl recalled. Of the
eight cities that held both Myrmidon and Cadmian contingents, in half they were
geographically separated, and in half they were located adjacent to each other.
Was that chance—or plan?

Dainyl had no idea,
nor did he know if that happened to be relevant to anything.

Guersa brought the
carriage to a halt by the gates. “Only you can enter, sir.” Her explanation was
apologetic. “I’ll be waiting here until you’re ready to return.”

“Thank you. It’s
likely to be at least a glass. It’s more likely to be two. If you’d like to
rest somewhere or get a bite to eat...”

“You’re sure, sir?”

“I’m certain.”

“I’ll be back in a
glass, sir.”

Dainyl turned and walked
toward the gates. They were unguarded, as were all Myrmidon gates. The duty
messenger saw him and bolted into the headquarters building.

The few moments it
took Dainyl to cross the granite-paved front courtyard and enter the building
were enough to alert the post, because a tall alector wearing the uniform of a
Myrmidon captain stood in the front foyer waiting for Dainyl.

“Submarshal Dainyl...
I had heard you were touring the companies. I didn’t expect you here so soon.”
Captain Fhentyl was one of the youngest Myrmidon captains Dainyl had met. That
was obvious, not from his physical appearance, which was impressive, given that
he was as tall as Majer Noryan, and muscular, but in a tapered fashion, rather
than being bulky and blocklike as Noryan was. Rather his lifeforce and Talent
bore the brighter purple of youth. Dainyl concealed a frown. By comparison,
Noryan’s lifeforce had seemed not just older, but much older, yet Chelysta had
spoken as if Noryan were close to her age.

“I won’t be here that
long,” Dainyl offered, “but I haven’t visited Dereka in many years.”

“We’re pleased to see
you. If we had known, sir, we could have provided a more impressive welcome.”

Dainyl laughed. “I’ve
never felt the formal receptions and inspections were worth the effort put into
them— either for the officer being greeted or the units that had to provide
them.” He paused. “I will inspect, but that will tell me more than prearranged
pageantry.”

“Yes, sir. Right now?”

“This very moment,
but don’t call a formal muster. I’ll inspect as things are. We’ll begin with
the pteridon squares.”

“Very good, sir.”
Fhentyl turned toward the rear door from headquarters.

Dainyl followed the
captain.

The pteridons were in
good order, as they always were. So was their equipment.

The pteridon squares
were a good yard shorter than any Dainyl had seen before. After looking over
the last square, he stopped and addressed Fhentyl. “The height of the squares
... ?”

Fhentyl laughed. “Every
officer who hasn’t been stationed here asks. This is the oldest Myrmidon
compound. When they built the later ones, they raised the squares a yard and a
third. It was either a point of pride or a tradition, but even when the
compound was enlarged, they didn’t raise the squares.”

That was another
story Dainyl hadn’t heard.

“Where do you store
the skylances when a squad isn’t flying?”

“We’ve gone to
storing them all in lockers in the duty pteridon’s square. We haven’t lost any
more, not since...”

“You took over?”

“I doubt if it
happened to be that, sir.”

“You were an
undercaptain then. What do you know about the missing skylances?”

Fhentyl flushed. “Not
much, sir. They were here, and then they were gone. We checked everything, even
took apart some of the stonework. After the last ones disappeared, Majer Dhenyr
had the recorder question every Myrmidon. I don’t know as he had much choice.
The regional alector found out...”

“Was Majer Dhenyr
close to the RA?”

“Close? That’d be
hard to say. He went over there maybe once every two weeks to brief him. He
never looked happy when he came back. Not that I saw anyway.”

“Have you briefed
Yadaryst?”

“No, sir. If he asks,
I will, but I’d not be one to ask for trouble.” Fhentyl flushed slightly.

“I take it that the
RA is known to be a hard alector?”

“Yes, sir.”

Dainyl decided not to
press on the matter of the RA. “What do you think happened to cause the
skylances to disappear?”

Fhentyl glanced
northward, back toward Dereka. “I don’t like to say things like this ... but
what else could it be? A pteridon will kill anyone who intrudes who’s not a
Myrmidon. I know—maybe I’m not supposed to—that

an ancient can
destroy a pteridon. Seems to me that anything that could do that could take a
skylance.”