Daughter of Time 1: Reader (20 page)

Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction.  
—Blaise Pascal

The audience in front of the High Inquisitor was impressive, but nothing prepared me for the Tribunal itself. Even as we pulled up outside the giant dome in which the trial would occur, it was obvious this would be something that had Galactic Empire written all over it.

The dome was incredible. Easily the size of a small city on Earth, it had been covered with that disturbing metallic marble-like substance the Dram loved to build with, yet it was polished in what must have been a million facets, each focused slightly differently so that they reflected the red light of the star upward and outward from the center of the sphere, radially like a giant incandescent bulb. I suppose this was to give it the appearance of power radiating from within, but I found it hideous and tacky, astounding me only in the force with which these aliens pressed upon all things that they encountered.

We were led through an enormous corridor on levitation flats, small rectangular devices with guardrails that traveled a few feet above the ground back and forth between the entrance and the inner chamber of the dome. Of course, these were designed for the Dram, and even a normal human would have trouble holding onto the rails. At my height of five foot two, there was really only a post to secure myself to, although the devices were almost completely bump-free. Still, they moved pretty fast, and instinct made me hold on tightly.

Soon, the cylindrical tunnel opened up into a mini-dome within the main dome, yet still the size of a football field. It was completely absurd. In the center was an elevated platform, perhaps two hundred feet in the air, on which Waythrel and I would stand for the entire ordeal. Hovering from above, several hundred feet in length, was an enormous platform for the seats of the Tribunal members, arrayed in a semicircle around a second platform opposite the entrance. The far walls were hardly lit, and light was focused down on the smaller platform, leaving most of the Tribunal in dim illumination. The only exceptions were the seat of the High Inquisitor, and next to that, towering above him, the grand throne on which the Dram Emperor sat.

It was all created to have an effect on the accused, and to bolster the Dram inherent sense of their own superiority, I guess. It had the opposite effect on me. It was in some ways the final sign of how mad these aliens were. At that point I lost whatever hope I had that there could be any way besides my plan to escape this situation. Even more, it had the effect of increasing my confidence. These Dram were so unbalanced, it would not be hard to defeat them now. This room was the proof. They sacrificed anything of practical value for show. The scale of the thing was so large that it was impossible to see the members of the Tribunal from the platform, and therefore they could not see us. So, they had rigged giant suspended holograms to display things, like monitors in Times Square or something. I nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of the entire farce. I suppose that I should have been more respectful. They were smarter than me, much more powerful than any other species, and, of course, very willing to do terrible things. But it wasn’t me that was blind now. I had sight in a world where the rest were blind.

The Emperor dangled ten feet in front of me, blown up to ten times its already large size in the projection, its form and clothing familiar from my vision on Earth, from a time in my life that seemed a thousand years ago. It clicked out sounds as Waythrel and I settled onto the platform, bathed in light. The clicks rocked against my ears, amplified by Dram technology. The Tribunal was in session.

It lasted nearly four hours, and I will spare you the details. Most of it was taken up with a constant religious and legal back-and-forth between the High Inquisitor and appointed Advocates of the Naturalists and Believers. The Believers presented their case, showing evidence recorded by Dram sensors of my manipulation of the Orbs, the original notes from Earth about my abilities, and a brief questioning of Waythrel and me about whether or not I had indeed done these things. Honestly, it seemed that many in the Believer camp had a lot of trouble
believing
that a lowly human could have power over the “Holy Orbs.” They spent a lot of time arguing the impossibility of an impure creature having such power, focusing on my deformity. “This human is even a monster among its own kind!” one particularly empathetic Believer Advocate exclaimed at one point.

Their case was pretty easy to understand – I was an instrument of evil, a vile creature empowered by dark forces to sacrilege. Seriously, how could an impure, lowly and deformed piece of humanity have any legitimate power over the Holy Orbs? There could be no cooperation with me, nothing good to come from my actions. I should be purified of the evil that possessed me and sent to death for my sins in punishment, and to prevent any further desecration of the Orbs.

The Naturalists then took up their position. They countered immediately the words of my deformity by casting it in a positive light, saying that the Creator had no doubt endowed me with special gifts, a new organ of vision. They played up a false respect for the Believers’ faith. Who was to say whom God had chosen as the instrument of revelation? Did not the scriptures claim that even the lowest would see God? Had I not opened a Portal? How could evil ever have done so? How could God have allowed it? They argued for a break from what they called barbaric interpretations of the Believers and a more progressive, modern view. They argued that I was sent from God, and must have been put in their presence for a purpose. The Dram should make use of this instrument of God and discover that purpose.

On and on it went, back and forth, until I frankly stopped caring and finalized in my mind what would be done in the next few days. The dancing futures in my mind – these were real, while the bickering insects around me, their power struggles and ancient superstitions, were the true dream. Deep in thought, ignored during the long debates, I lost track of the time around me until Waythrel shook me back into the present. Apparently, they were nearing an end. The Advocates had been ordered to sit. The High Inquisitor stood before us, its face hovering in space.

“Finally. Let him spit it out at last,” I muttered to Waythrel. Through the Xixian translator I wore, the Dram clicks morphed into English in my ears.

“The Emperor has signaled closure. The debate has ended. All hail the Judge and receive Judgment!”

The High Inquisitor sat down, and the projection flicked to the form of the Emperor. Even I could tell the Emperor was old. The bent legs, the poor posture, the discolorations in the exoskeleton, and the aids to vision that surrounded the three eyestalks – this was a creature that had been worn down by many years. Yet there was a sharpness in its words, even through translation. Sharp in essence, but not in effect. I sighed; I had heard them so many times already.

“The evidence and arguments have been presented. But there is still too much mystery. A primitive creature is said to have power over the Holy Orbs and yet shows no sign of the faith, no knowledge of the Ancient Ones. How can such power have come to such a lowly creature? How can we know it was this Earth creature that opened the Portal, and not another force that lays the blame on it to divert attention?”

I felt Waythrel stiffen beside me. The Xix had not anticipated this paranoia in the Dram. To blame the Xix because of their superior technology – it was classic Dram. But deadly serious.

“We need further proof!” Soft clicking could be heard around the chamber. “I command that this creature provide the core Tribunal with a demonstration! In four days we mark the end of the Sun Spot Cycle. It is a Holy omen. We will travel to the Dram Sacred Orb, and this creature will show us the truth of its power, or perish in torment for its heresy!”

Several in the Believer camp broke out in some kind of protest, while I felt the Naturalists smile with pleasure inwardly. The Emperor was clever. It would test that I did hold this power, and at the same time establish a use of it by the Dram. It would make its task easier to insist upon my exploitation to the Believer caste.

“Silence!” the Emperor thundered, pounding a clawed hand upon the throne. “I am empowered by the Holy Powers and rule with their authority! I
command
it. In four days, this creature will be brought before the Holy Orb! Take them away!”

And then it was over. The guards entered, hurried us out of the chamber and out of the absurd dome toward the ground transports. I saw Waythrel shield its many eyes from the outdoor light, bright and searing after our hours in the dome. The noise of the Dram city filled the spaces around us. I leaned over towards the very exhausted-looking Xix and whispered, “Now that we’ve endured their hot air, we have plans to set in motion.”

“Plans?” Waythrel asked.

“Yes, Waythrel.” I smiled and sighed at the same time. It was good to finally open up about this.

“Soon, we will escape, and there is a lot we need to arrange. We must make sure it is as I have fore-planned.”

“Ambra, you will tell me now what you have seen?”

“Oh, Waythrel, that would take more than our lifetimes. But a local corner of it all, yes, I’ll tell you. These arrogant bugs, they are going to lead us right to the exit.”

30

It is incomprehensible that God should exist, and it is incomprehensible that He should not exist; that the soul should be joined to the body, and that we should have no soul; that the world should be created, and that it should not be created. 
—Blaise Pascal

The path through the labyrinth was clear now. Like some luminescent highway in my mind, composed of a thousand different threads of time from possible futures woven together, it dominated my visions. In my present, I helped lay each new thread, and knew those that must be stitched in the near future. It all was within what I could do. Only by choice now would I not be able to follow the bright road. But only through that path could we escape, could the Xix survive, and could I finally return to where my journey had begun. It was the right path for so many, even as I could hardly face what waited for me at its end.

I told Waythrel that we needed a chance to speak more openly together, without the Dram overhearing. While the sounds and movements outside between the Tribunal and my cell masked our conversation, there was not enough time to explain what the Xix had to know. I told Waythrel to ready all of the Xix on Dram, and all of those that could exchange information and service with their home world, to prepare for what I would ask of them. I felt the resignation within Waythrel. The Xix assumed I would ask something similar to their own plan to endanger themselves. Deferring to my visions, Waythrel felt a growing helplessness as I took over the planning of our escape.

The next day, Waythrel and several Xixian medics entered my cell. Pretending to examine me, one injected something into my arm. It wasn’t painful and barely left a mark. I made no sound and waited until they left the room. Waythrel spoke.

“We have implanted in your skin a small device that will mask our conversation from the Dram. I have a similar device in me. The device will mimic malfunctioning Dram eavesdropping equipment, which will give us a short time to speak openly. The device is organic, and will dissolve and be absorbed within your tissues in thirty minutes – undetectable. Speak quickly, all that must be said.”

I closed my eyes, the bright path in my consciousness.

“When they bring me to the Orb, the Emperor will ask me to activate it, planning for me to guide the ship to Earth. A measure of the cruelty of the Dram,” I said without further clarification. “But this will not happen. The Resistance will swing into Dram space and hit the escort ships. They have been moving into near jump space the last few days.”

“Ambra, I have no word of such plans, what are you saying? Why would the Emperor demand that you bring them to Earth?”

I ignored its words and continued. “At that time, a delegation of Xixian scientists will be revealed to be Xixian defenders, and will begin to immobilize Dram soldiers.”

“Ambra, please…”

“Listen to me, Waythrel. “ I shook my head. There wasn’t time to explain it all. The alien would have to trust my visions. “The Dram have too many numbers, and such terrible weapons, the Xix cannot stop them all.” I smiled, thinking of my gentle friends. “These others I will stop.”

“
You
will stop? How, Ambra?”

There was only one way to convince the Xix of this. I concentrated on the pulsing waves of thought that emanated from Waythrel. Such complex lines, such beautiful webs within webs. So much more refined and deep than my thoughts, and yet even the Xix were blind where I could see. Only I could see these thoughts. And only I could touch them. I reached out, kindly but firmly, and plucked the web.