Pathspace: The Space of Paths (20 page)

It bought you a world of savages. A world of
hunger. A world of disease. A world of tiny countries scrabbling to
control dwindling resources, when we could be mining the immense
wealth up there over our heads in space. It bought you this.

I want to go to the stars
, he
thought. But I won't. I'll spend my entire life unifying old
scattered pieces, sewing together what should never have fallen
apart. Building an empire with enough resources to resume the
conquest and exploration of space. Pouring my blood into a
shattered flowerpot, coaxing the glory to flower again. And never
seeing the bloom. Never to taste the rewards I'm earning. Because
of fools who grabbed for magic toys.

He laughed bitterly. Stop feeling sorry for
yourself, old man!
You're
not starving. There's no use
grieving for a world long dead. Get back to building the world that
will be.

If that is all you get to have, the
striving, then strive.

He emerged into the sub-basement of the
building, where once the trains of the Ancients flew through
tunnels devoid of air. There was air in some of them, now – the
ones that hadn't collapsed over the years. The ancient pumps that
kept them airless to reduce the drag on the supersonic maglevs had
been replaced with swizzles, of course, and after the Tourists left
and the alien magic began breaking down, it was too late to convert
them back, in a world where no one made pumps anymore. He grimaced
but made an effort not to fall back into his grumble-cycle.

His grandfather had found a new use for the
long-buried rails of metallo-graphene superconductor. It was the
main reason the capital of the Lone Star Empire had moved to Dallas
from Austin – far more of the maglev tunnels converged here. But
nothing human rode them.

“Quintus!” he barked. “Wherever you are, get
your ass over here.”

A short man in dirty leathers trotted up to
him. “Yes, Excellency?” Quintus was not a handsome man, or a tall
man. In fact, thought the Honcho, he was barely any kind of man.
But he had his uses. The only thing that distinguished him was his
extraordinary sense of hearing. It was said that he could hear the
whinny of a horse from half a mile away.

“We both know you heard me coming down the
staircase,” said Peter. “Don't make me summon you next time. Why
haven't you sent up the latest dispatches from Rado?”

Quintus blinked. “Because there haven't been
any,” he said. He led the Honcho over to the maglev rails that used
to connect Dallas with Denver. At the end of the rails, where
elaborate shock absorbers used to be, to damp out any remaining
trace of the train's motion, there was now, instead, a concavity in
the floor of the station that housed a desk, with pads of paper and
charcoal sticks for writing. The ends of the rails protruded from
the edge of the pit into the small ends of enormous trumpet-like
blossoms that curved as if trying to meet. The metal had taxed the
patience of the smith who had produced them.

The last transmission window was nearly an
hour ago,” said Quintus. He shrugged. “Perhaps something will come
in in a few minutes.” He turned his head and checked the hourglass.
The sand in the upper half was nearly gone. “Won't be long now,” he
said.

Peter scowled. Brutus had many faults, but
not reporting in wasn't one of them. He knew where the submerged
rails in their tunnels had been uncovered by cave-ins and erosion.
There were at least two such spots between here and Denver, one on
the Texas side of the border and the other nearly within sight of
the city. “I'll wait,” he said.

His grandfather had been the one to realize
the potential of the ancient rails. The stories told how the
Ancients had used trains that floated above them on invisible
forces. But Alfonzo Martinez had been the one who had realized that
the rails which had not fallen victim to earthquakes could still be
used – for communication. Some of the rails had breaks in them,
such as the line that went to Angeles, off to the west in Californ.
But some of them had been more fortunate. The line to Denver was
still unbroken, as was the one that led to Atlanta, in the East, in
the heart of the Dixie Emirates

Soon, the last grains of sand tumbled into
the lower half of the hourglass. Quintus flipped it over, then went
and sat, his head between the two flared and of the metal
trumpets.

Peter watched him. Come on. Show some signs
of life.

Nearly a minute went by, and he was about to
look away when Quintus's eyes widened and he reached for paper and
a charcoal stick. “Something coming in,” he said.

“What does it say?”

“Nothing yet. They always start with five
groups of five before the Morse begins. It's their way of getting
my attention.”

Peter paced back and forth as Quintus
listened and wrote. After about a minute he pulled his head out of
the focus. Peter leaned over to read the marks on the paper.

GANDALF REPORTS SCOUTS CAPTURED STOP RESCUE
IN PROGRESS STOP

“Who's Gandalf?” Quintus asked.

“An agent of ours inside the Governor's
headquarters,” said Peter. “That's all you need to know.” He turned
to head back upstairs. “Let me know if there is any follow up.”

Captured
. His mind spun out possible
implications.
Brutus wouldn't surrender without a fight. Is
Jeffrey alive? Damn it, how could this happen?
And if he is alive, do they realize they have the Runt? He
had to believe that Jeffrey would at least have the sense to
pretend to be a common soldier. And then there was that “rescue in
progress” bit. He wasn't sure what would be worse – letting his son
remain in enemy hands, or risking his life in an escape
attempt.

The bottom line was, he could always sire
another son. If Angela couldn't bear another child, then she'd just
have to accept a surrogate if and when the time came for that.

The door to the holding cell was ajar when
she got there. Had he gotten out without her help? She stopped and
listened but heard nothing. Maybe he didn't know the door was open?
Frowning, she pushed into the room and regarded the cells'
occupants.

They didn't seem very worried. Shouldn't
they be? The big one with red hair was actually grinning at her.
“Why are you so happy?” she asked him.

He pushed the door to his cell open.
“Because you've solved the problem of how we're getting past the
guards.”

She gasped and jumped back, but bumped into
someone behind her. Someone who grabbed her arms and held them.

“
Dear me,” a familiar
voice smiled into her ear. “You appear to have volunteered to join
my rescue. How generous of you.”

“
Ludlow! What are you
doing here? Let go of me at once!”

“
My dear, as usual, you
have no idea what is going on.” He whipped a knife around to her
throat and pushed her out the door.

Xander and Lester were
heading toward her. With a sinking feeling, she realized that the
apprentice must have made it out without her help and was looking
for her to report what he had heard.
If I had only
waited, the Texans would have had no hostage.

“
Stay back!” Ludlow
warned.

“
That's him! That's who I
heard,” Lester said to Xander.

The wizard held out a hand to stop him from
talking. “I see it all now,” he said. “Tell me, Ludlow, how long
have you been spying for the Honcho?”

“”
Long enough, old man.
You really should have kept me on as your apprentice. But that's
not important now.” Ludlow moved aside as the rest of the prisoners
filed out of the room behind him. “What is important is that you
understand the situation. These man know if they don't escape
they're likely to be executed. I'd expect the same for helping
them. And we all know that they only thing preventing their
recapture is the fact that Miss D'Arcy is still alive.”

“
You always were
long-winded.”

“
They wish to escape, and
Miss D'Arcy wishes to go on living. It is my hope that you share
her concern. In order for everyone to get through the next few
minutes, you are going to precede us down the stairs, staying in
sight, and tell the guards to let us reach the ground floor, where
we will be given horses and allowed to leave without any awkward
heroics.”

“
And then
what?”

“
We'll release her when we
are far enough away. Best I can do.”

Xander nodded. “I understand,” he said. “But
know this: if Aria come to the slightest harm as a result of this
betrayal of yours, I will find you and kill you..”

“
Oh really? Don't waste
your breath, old man. We're going to Texas, where you aren't
welcome.”

Xander laughed. “And you think you are? The
Church likes to think up new ways of killing wizards. Even a failed
sorcerer like you would make them salivate.”

Ludlow shook his head. “Trying to make me
angry enough to forget myself and make a mistake? It won't happen.
As for 'failed', I appear to be succeeding at the moment. And as
for the Church, I expect the Honcho's gratitude will be all the
protection I need.”

Aria struggled for words. “I'm so sorry,”
she told Xander. As she did this, she saw Lester freeze next to
him.

“
You!” he
managed.

The red-haired Texan with the scar glanced
at him. “You got some problem, kid?”

“
Not any more,” Lester
told him. “It's good to see you again.”

There was murder in his eyes. Did anyone
else see it? Up to now he had seemed to be just a boy learning to
be a wizard. But when she saw his expression, Aria revised her
opinion. There must be a bit more to him. From the look of him, it
wasn't pleasant experience.

The redhead moved up next to of her. From
the side, she could see he was mildly puzzled, but not that
interested in whatever was bothering the apprentice. “You gents
best get a move on, before Mr. Ludlow gets nervous with that
knife,” he advised.

Xander's face closed like a book. “Follow
me.”

When they entered the stairwell, she saw
Lester fade away in front of her.

“
I thought of that, too,”
Ludlow called. “”We're not following unless I can see
both
of you. And if you try an ambush, bad
things will happen.”

Lester reappeared. “It was worth a try,” he
muttered.

“
Not now,” said Xander.
“He'll make a mistake soon enough.”

“
If he does,” Lester
replied, “It'll be his last.”

“
Oh dear,” said Ludlow.
“You
do
realize we can hear you,
don't you? Considering our hostage, I think you are getting off
lightly. All we're asking for is an escape. I
could
have ordered you to stand still while Red here
beat you senseless, boy. Don't tempt me.”

“
Don't make me laugh,” she
said. “He wouldn't do it.”

Lester stopped on the stairs and turned to
look at her. “For you, I would,” he said. “Besides, it would only
make it easier for me to kill him later.”

“
Ain't that sweet?” said
the red-haired man with the scar over his left eye. “Shut up and
get your ass down those stairs.”

Mother will be soon wondering what's
taking me so long,
she thought.
But
she's way up above us.
She began to slow down
as if she were tired.

“
Miss Aria,” said Ludlow
in her ear,”if you don't stop dawdling I'll let Red carry you down.
He'd like that.”

“
He'd have trouble
carrying me and the knife at the same time,” she said. But she
stopped slowing down.

Presently they reached the ground floor. It
smelled of horses. “We'll need seven mounts and a several pieces of
rope,” Ludlow announced. Two guards turned at the sound of his
voice and gaped at the party of prisoners emerging from the
stairwell.

Xander put his hand out and stopped the
nearer one from raising his crossbow. “Don't do it. He has
Aria.”

Ludlow smiled. “Yes, listen to your wizard,
boys, he's giving you good advice. Come to think of it, we'll take
your crossbows, while we're at it.”

The guard looked to Xander. He sighed and
nodded and they handed two crossbows over.

As the others climbed onto horses, Ludlow
addressed Xander and Lester. “I imagine you are planning to follow
us,” he said. “I wouldn't if I were you, but then again I don't
expect you'll be swayed by my opinions at this point.”

“
Good to see you're
not
entirely
out of your mind,”
said Xander.

Ludlow smiled. “I don't want to seem
ungrateful, but we can't have you following us, so...” he turned to
the red-haired man. “Shoot them both,” he said.

At this point he could remain silent no
longer. “No!” he said,” putting his hand on Brutus's arm. “We'll
not leave blood behind us.”

Brutus looked at him curiously. “I don't
recall asking for your advice on the matter,” he said. “Take your
hand off before you have an unfortunate accident.”

He let go, but before the bigger man could
take aim, Jeffrey spoke. “Give me one of the crossbows,” he said.
“I'll cover them while you all leave, and catch up to you
later.”

Brutus laughed. “More likely, you'll realize
you're outnumbered with no hostage and simply get recaptured. I'd
hate explaining that to someone we both know. Smarter to just shoot
them now and get away clean.”