Cadmians Choice (7 page)

“I think we can skip
that, but, if you’d show me the road-cutting equipment... that should wind up
what I need to see.”

“That’s all in the
lowest vault. You’ll have to unlock the Talent-locks, sir.”

Quietly, the three
walked to the end of the corridor and then down the wide ramp that descended in
a half circle.

After walking another
fifty yards, Vresnyl stopped at a solid steel gate, infused and strengthened
with lifeforce. He unlocked the gate and swung it open on heavy wide hinges
attached to plates fused to the stone walls. A foyer of sorts—two yards deep
and three wide—fronted a second door, not quite the width of the foyer itself.

The armorer looked to
Dainyl.

The submarshal
stepped forward and let his Talent-senses range over the octagonal lock plate.
After a moment of study, he found the lock node and released it. “It’s
released.”

Vresnyl looked at the
lock, nervously, then inserted a green-tinged key, turning it. There was barely
a click as the solid steel door slid to the left, recessing into the stone.

The chamber beyond
was not that large, no more than fifteen yards wide and ten deep, and lit by
only a handful of light-torches, spaced along the side walls above the ten
lockers on each side. The road-cutting equipment consisted of three identical
four-wheeled wagons, each perhaps two yards wide and three long, spaced side by
side in the bay. Each was clearly designed to be drawn by a sandox, although the
wagon tongue had been unbolted and was set beside the heavy wheels. The rear of
the wagon was filled with crystals in matrices linked together so that the
power drawn from the crystals and the life-force of the world could be
concentrated and focused through a crystalline discharge formulator that looked
like a larger version of the end of a skylance, except for the tip, which was
shaped into an arc of sixty degrees. The three wagons were the only equipment
visible.

For several moments,
Dainyl studied the nearest wagon, with both eyes and Talent, gleaning what he
could.

Vresnyl shifted his
weight from one booted foot to the other. Veluara was silent.

“Where are the
operator suits?” asked Dainyl after a time. Because the road-cutting equipment
drew lifeforce randomly, any engineer operating the equipment needed to wear
the protective coveralls that contained and maintained his own lifeforce.

“In the lockers
there, sir.”

Dainyl walked to the
nearest wall locker and opened it. Within was a single coverall, shimmering a
dull gray. He closed the locker door, then turned. “We can go now.”

Once Vresnyl
re-locked the inner door, Dainyl concentrated and replaced the Talent-lock.
Then the three stepped out into the lower corridor.

The armorer locked
the outer door and looked up, in relief..”I can’t say as I like going in there,
sir. If they were powered up, those would suck a man dry in moments, except
maybe for the Duarches.”

“I understand, but
the marshal was rather insistent.” On what, Dainyl did not say, because he
couldn’t, since Shastylt had merely conveyed the desire that his subordinate
discover all that he could.

“We all have our
duties,” replied Vresnyl uneasily.

“So we do.”

Dainyl and Veluara
followed the armorer back up to the main level of the armory.

There, Dainyl turned
to Vresnyl. “Thank you. I appreciate your care and diligence, and so does the
marshal.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Neither Dainyl nor
Veluara said a word until they were back in the open air of the compound
courtyard.

“I’ve never seen the
road-cutting equipment before,” offered Veluara.

Neither had Dainyl,
although he had read of it, and he had hoped that seeing it would provide some
insight... into something. He felt it had, although uncharged and inert as the
equipment had been, he wasn’t certain yet what understanding he might have
gained. “It is impressive, and foreboding.”

“I don’t think I’d
want to operate it.”

“I doubt there would
be any need—not unless we get an earthquake or avalanche that blocks one of the
high roads through the Spine of Corus.”

“The wagons aren’t
very big for what they can do.”

“Neither is a
skylance,” replied Dainyl dryly.

“There is that, sir.”

“What’s next?”

“The carpentry and
maintenance shops are just ahead....”

Dainyl nodded. It
would be a long, but necessary, afternoon.

It was indeed. By the
time he had walked through every building in the headquarters compound, Dainyl’s
leg was definitely aching, and reminding him that it had been shattered not
that many weeks before. As he had suspected even before he had left his
temporary quarters, everything he had seen was spotless, all the equipment was
present and accounted for,- and the Myrmidons he met were invariably friendly.
On the technical and operational side, the eastern regions of the Myrmidons
appeared well run.

When Veluara escorted
him back to the quarters, the sun was hanging just above the rolling hills on
the far side of Alustre and the river.

“Sir ... Submarshal
Alcyna wanted you to know that the private dining room in the mess area has
been reserved for you. She regrets that she cannot join you tonight, but she
has cleared her schedule for all the other evenings you will be here in
Alustre.”

“Thank you. I need to
think for a while, but I appreciate the submarshal’s concerns ... and your
guiding me through the compound.” Dainyl wasn’t certain that he wanted to be
isolated in a private dining room, but he could also understand Alcyna’s
motives. Dainyl wouldn’t have wanted her wandering through the mess in Elcien
with his junior officers—if for very different reasons, he suspected.

After he closed the
quarters door behind him, he sank into one of the armchairs.

Quattri morning
dawned cloudy and misting, and Dainyl slept later than he would have wished
ideally. He had not slept well, awakening several times, although his
Talent-alarm had not been the reason. He had to hurry through washing up,
dressing, and breakfast in the private dining area in order to make it to
headquarters to get in his report reading before he was to depart on his
late-morning tour of the eastern residence. All in all, he spent two glasses in
Majer Noryan’s study reading through the daily logs and reports of Third
Company, all written in the majer’s meticulous hand. According to the
operations schedule, Noryan and two squads of Third Company were in Norda.

When Dainyl finally
discovered it, the entry for the encounter with the ancients was brief:

21
Dueml 743

First
squad lifted off from temporary quarters in Scien at one glass after morning
muster, with Majer Noryan taking operational control. The squad flew a line
abreast centered on the North Road with half-vingt spacing. Second squad lifted
off a fifth of a glass later. A half glass after the flight began, Kagayn noted
a green globe of light on a rocky peak to the south of the road, located at
vingt-post 37 from Scien. When he investigated, a flash of green light
surrounded him and his pteridon. Zuluya followed, and there was a second flash.
When the light faded, both pteridons and Myrmidons had dropped from the sky,
and two pyres burned on the ice. Majer Noryan ordered the remaining Myrmidons
from first squad and all Myrmidons from squad two to mount a concentrated
skylance attack on the peak and the globe of light. Under the concentrated
power of nine skylances, the green globe exploded into shards that appeared to
be frozen flame. These vanished before striking the ground. Third Company
encountered no further difficulties during the road sweep, but no sign of the
missing Cadmian company was discovered this day.

That was all Noryan
had written, and there were no other references to the ancients or anything
like them.

Dainyl frowned. He
was certain that the reports he had seen two seasons earlier had indicated the
pteridons had been lost in separate incidents. He continued to look through the
reports, but found nothing more.

Finally, Dainyl
replaced the reports and stood, convinced that he had found all he would find.
Alcyna and Noryan had reported the incident, and the majer had reported what
appeared to be a proper response to an attack. From his own encounters in
Dramur, Dainyl was certain that Noryan was either mistaken or lying about the
ancient’s destruction. What bothered him more was that Alcyna had believed that
the ancient had been destroyed. His own problem was simple. To charge the two
with either incompetence or falsification of reports would prove nothing and
create an argument about precisely how the pteridons had been lost. In
addition, it might well require revealing the extent of his own Talent, and
capabilities he had concealed for years. Such a revelation would immediately
make him a greater and more immediate target for both Zelyert and Shastylt than
Alcyna ... and could well lead to having all three, as well as Brekylt, looking
to create an unfortunate accident for one Sub-marshal Dainyl.

Before too long, he
would doubtless have to reveal such, but now was not the time, not when there
were two “official” reports—at least as he recalled. He saw no point in acting
immediately, not until he rechecked the records at headquarters. With a wry
smile, he left the majer’s study and walked toward the duty desk to meet
Undercaptain Veluara for his tour of the lower level of the eastern residence.
More properly, he supposed, he was a guest or visitor, since he had no real
authority except over the Myrmidons, and he would be seeing the administrative
areas of the east, dealing with five of the six branches of the Duarchy:
Finance, Transport, Engineering, Trade, and Education. The sixth branch, of
course, was Justice, and all functions associated with it in the east were
handled by Alcyna and her subordinates.

The High Alectors of
Justice, Finance, and Transport were located in Elcien and reported directly to
Khelaryt, the Duarch of Elcien, while the other three were in Ludar and
reported to Samist, the Duarch there. Each branch had an eastern regional
alector, corresponding in position to Alcyna, and each reported on a day-to-day
basis to Brekylt, but any High Alector could override Brekylt if he felt it
necessary.

Dainyl could not
remember that ever occurring and, from what he’d observed, doubted he ever
would. Either Brekylt or the high alector who disagreed would resign— or suffer
an accident. He snorted. The Duarches—and especially the Archon—valued the
appearance of consensus highly.

Since the morning
remained somewhat chill, Dainyl had worn his flying jacket over his uniform.
The sky was a clear silver-green, but the wind out of the northwest was brisk,
more like late winter than spring.

Undercaptain Veluara
stood waiting by the duty desk. She also wore a flying jacket, fastened almost
to her neck.

“Good morning,
Veluara.”

“Good morning, sir.
Are you ready?”

“As ready as
possible.”

She turned and
started for the archway to the main front entrance. Dainyl followed.

Outside, young Granyn
stood waiting beside the duty coach. “Where to, Submarshal, sir?” asked the
Myrmidon, opening the door.

“The residence, for
the administrative sections.”

“West portico, sir.”

Dainyl gestured for
Veluara to enter the coach. A fleeting expression between confusion and
consternation flickered across her features before she stepped up from the
mounting block and into the coach. Dainyl followed, and Granyn closed the door,
then vaulted up to the driver’s bench.

“Which courier flight
is the hardest?” Dainyl asked as the coach pulled away from the entrance to the
headquarters building. “In the east.”

“I don’t know as I
could pick one route, Submarshal. The ones to Norda and Passera are bitter in
the winter. The longest route is the one to Sinjin in the summer. We’ve never
had to do that one more than once or twice a quint, though. The route to
Passera runs every Quattri.”

“That’s a day and a
half each way.”

“Yes, sir. It’s
almost eleven hundred vingts.”

“Have you ever gone
through the Spine of Corns except by the passes?”

“No, sir. You’d run
the risk of flying out of the lifeforce levels. Why ...” Veluara broke off
whatever she might have said.

“I was thinking about
the ancients. Supposedly, they like high and cold places. Have you ever seen
one?”

“Yes, sir, but only
from a distance.” She frowned. “Didn’t I tell you that?”

“You may have.”
Dainyl had been concentrating with his eyes and Talent, and decided that
Veluara was definitely lying about how closely she had seen an ancient. He had
wondered that when he had first asked her. “You told me you weren’t with the
squads that had lost pteridons.”

“That’s right. None
of Fourth Company was, and I would have recalled that.”

The last words were
odd, Dainyl reflected, but he smiled. “I can imagine that it would be hard to
forget an ancient.”

The coach turned onto
the wide avenue that led to the eastern residence, and Dainyl caught a glimpse
of the east wing. Unlike the Palaces of the Duarches, or Myrmidon headquarters,
where only alectors were permitted, the lower level of the residence was open
to any who had business there. That was a necessity, since intelligent landers
were the backbone of the day-to-day administration of Corus and since the
various decisions and permits were issued directly from the administrative
section of the residence.

As Granyn slowed the
coach at the stone circle before the west portico, Dainyl studied the
residence. The west wing alone extended a good hundred yards and was at least
forty yards deep. The east wing was a mirror image of the west. Surely, among
all the alectors in the residence, there should be someone that Dainyl knew. If
not, he would have to come up with another stratagem.