The Chaos Weapon (7 page)

“What’s wrong, Pilon? You look so sad.”

“You remember the other day when you read Chaos to me. You said the war has begun.”

“I could see it. What of it?”

“You were right, little
one. The war has come.”

“Come to Mayo?”

“Not yet, but to the galaxy certainly. And of all our seers, you were the only one who knew. Now someone has come from the Federation asking for your aid. Your ability to read Chaos is unique. Perhaps you alone have the power to fight the growing darkness.

“Then we should go and speak with him.”

“It’s not just to speak. He wants to take you away from Mayo with him.”

“To the stars?”

“To the stars and beyond, perhaps.”

“What nonsense you do speak.”

“Already his request has divided the Conclave of Elders, and the guardians are at each other’s throats. A curious form of nonsense!”

She turned away suddenly and looked across the green fields as if seeing them for the first time.

“Do you want me to go?”

“I want what’s best for you. Last night I was opposed to your going. Since then I’ve thought it through. There’s little enough future on Mayo for one possessing your talents. Outspace you’ll have the most powerful of protectors and a chance to develop as you should. Most seers would give their sight to have such an offer. But my final decision rests on the fact that if you don’t take this opportunity now, it may never be offered again.”

“Can you explain that?”

“The man reminds me that if they lose the war, the Federation will contract. Then the aliens will sweep this edge of the galaxy clear of humanity.”

“You make such serious talk.”

“Life is serious. The walls we build between the communities are serious. The gulf we put between ourselves and the rest of human kind is serious. The old Sensitives were dedicated to liberating the full potentials in man. We’ve released them from the individual, but confined them nonetheless. Perhaps in that we’ve betrayed the ancient trust.”

“Isn’t it taught
that the stars are not ready for the seers?”

“Did anybody ask the stars? Perhaps they’re big enough to take care of themselves. If not, they must suffer the consequences.”

“Then I shall go.”

“It may not be easy. Many of the Conclave are opposed. But if there’s a way, we’ll find it. Come, I think Dabria has a plan. He won’t rest easily until this matter is settled.”

When Dabria entered the cellar again he remained by the door and made no attempt to approach the prisoner.

“Marshal, we had a disagreement earlier. It was nothing personal, but you do present considerable problems for me. But I take your point that killing you would multiply these problems rather than end them. Therefore I’ve a proposition to make.”

“So have I. I want the Chaos Seer and I demand release from this place. I’ll give you two hours before I call for a Space-force cruiser.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve been talking with Pilon. It’s seemingly in all our interests for the seer to go with you. Unfortunately it’s prohibited by law for any Sensitive to travel off-world. If I openly appear to allow the Chaos Seer to go, the pressure from other seers for like privilege could wreck our system of guardianship and destroy most of what we’ve established.”

“Which means you have a problem.”

“To which I have contrived a solution that should suit us both. Pilon has gone to fetch the Chaos Seer, who will be persuaded to accompany you. When the seer arrives, you’ll both be left here until the late watch goes on duty. At that time you’ll find the end door unlocked, and beyond it your clothes and equipment just as we removed them. I believe it well within your powers to force an escape and get the Chaos Seer off-world before the watch can prevent you. Thus
you gain what you came for, and I do not have a revolution thrust upon me.”

“Who else knows about this plot?” Wildheit asked dubiously.

“None but Pilon and the seer.”

“So if it comes to fighting, the blood will be real?”

“Having examined your equipment, I doubt the blood will be yours. Let’s not be squeamish, Marshal. In the circumstances, there’s no alternative.”

For the next hour Wildheit was left contemplating the tortuous nature of human duplicity. Then Pilon entered, bringing with him a wild-eyed girl who had barely reached maturity.

“Marshal, I bring you the Chaos Seer. By a strange element of foresight, her name is Roamer. Take great care of her, because she’s one of the rarer flowers the Sensitives have yet produced.”

Wildheit struggled to his feet. “I’d no idea the Chaos Seer was a girl. I’d imagined …”

“I warned you your plan wouldn’t be wise.” Pilon was fighting with some buried emotion. “I also know the results won’t be those you anticipate. Nevertheless, you’ve forced the issue, and now there’s no turning back. Roamer, this is Space-Marshal Wildheit, a sort of Guardian of the galaxy. His weapons are terrible and his motivations sincere. Nonetheless he’s naive, and misinformed about the nature of the universe. He’ll need much instruction. Treat the stars gently, little one. Perhaps a few of them will survive.”

As he turned to go, Wildheit caught his arm.

“Hold a minute! Roamer, had I known you were so young I’d not have asked for you. The journey ahead is going to be difficult and dangerous—and the hunt for the Chaos Weapon even more so. Are you sure you’re prepared to come with me?”

Pilon looked back, and there was a hint of distant mischief in his eyes. “Well, Roamer, what do you say?”

“This moment already has its trace in the patterns
of Chaos. It’s the casual origin of one of the greatest entropic shockpoints the galaxy has ever seen.”

“Did you hear that, Marshal? Future history has already given its verdict. Let neither of you consider you’ve any option in the matter. What you have started is due to shake the universe. It is not implied whether for good or evil—merely that it will happen.”

When Pilon left, Wildheit turned to Roamer. From the look of consternation on her face it was clear that she could actually see the god on his shoulder.

“You seem surprised at my companion, Roamer,” he said kindly. “You must have great sensitivity. Most people can’t see him at all.”

“What is it?” she asked. The tension in her vocal cords made her voice seem ragged.

“It’s a god. His name is Coul.”

“I don’t understand. God is infinite.”

“Believe what you must, little frog. But what I tell you is true. There are many gods. All of them are terrifying in their power. None is omnipotent.”

“Why does he flicker like that?”

“Because he travels in several dimensions, of which this is only one. He visits the others constantly, thus at no time is he fully here.”

“Why does he sit on your shoulder?”

“We’re attached until death—my death. Coul is immortal.”

“Can’t you take him off—ever?”

“There’s no way. He lives right into me.”

“Like a parasite?” The prospect clearly worried her.

“No, not like a parasite. This is symbiosis. We each contribute something to the other. A sort of partnership, you understand.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I support Coul with the life forces he needs to maintain a partial reality in this dimension. Because I’m a good host he looks after my welfare when my needs become extreme.”

Roamer had lost some of her fears now, and her repugnance was turning to fascination.

“I think he’s
very, very ugly.”

“Touch him.”

“Should I?”

“He’d like it fine—if you believe in him. Do you believe he exists?”

“I can see him. Why therefore should I doubt?”

“Do you believe he’s a god?”

She hesitated for a moment, anxiously reading Wildheit’s eyes, wondering if, against all the odds, this could be some sort of joke. She found no mockery in his face, only a profound sympathy.

“I believe he is a god,” she said.

With infinite caution she extended her arm and let her fingers come delicately in contact with the leathery brown deity. As she touched it, she closed her eyes involuntarily, then opened them, in a kind of ecstasy. She remained thus for a couple of minutes, then took her hand away.

“What did you feel?” asked Wildheit.

“I felt … music.” Her voice was strangely distant.

“That’s good! He accepts you.”

“Why should he accept me?”

“Because he lives in a multitude of dimensions—all gods have problems of identity. You’ve demonstrated a belief in his existence here and now. That gives him a point of empathy he can use to strengthen his frame of reference.”

“You’re being very technical.”

“I’m being practical. Coul needs belief the way you need food. And he’s appreciative when he gets it. When you’re in extreme need, call out to him. If you believe in him enough, could be he’ll find a way to help. Now, what time does the late watch begin?”

“Soon now. Why?”

“Dabria has arranged a subterfuge. He dare not appear to approve of your leaving, so he’s arranged to allow us to escape. When the watch changes, I’ll have my weapons back and then we can go. Can you lead me through the city to the bridge over the river?”

“I think so.”

“Good! Out in the
desert I have a spaceship. If we can reach that we’ll be safe. But we may have to fight to get there. Stay close to me, and do exactly as I say.”

As he was speaking he heard a slight noise from the far end of the cellar. Moving to investigate, he found one of the doors ajar, and in a small room beyond this his uniform and equipment had been laid on a table. Dressing as swiftly as he was able, he returned to Roamer.

“If you’re ready, partner, we’ll go see what Chaos has in store for us.”

Signaling for her to stand well back, he shattered the heavy door with a single explosive capsule, then fired a shock pellet down the corridor he found beyond. He ducked his head out of the way of the picopulse shock, then signaled for Roamer to follow fast. At the end of the corridor they found two stunned watchmen slumped over a table. Past them was another door and a flight of stairs leading upward which brought them out on the top of a guard wall on the fringes of the city itself.

“Now which way?”

“To the left. That way we can avoid the watch-school.”

The day was closing to a golden dusk, and the streets beneath the wall were largely deserted. A tower in the wall suggested a means of descent and also the presence of more watchmen. Wildheit cleared the entrance with a shock pellet and followed straight through down the spiral stone stairs. At the bottom he surprised two watchmen who were coming to investigate the noise. He dropped one with a hand-blow, and the second fled into another part of the tower presumably to fetch assistance.

The marshal did not follow him. They now had a clear route into the sandy streets and an urgent need to reach the bridge before too many watchmen could be mustered. The few people they passed among the random houses appeared surprised to see the pair run
run by, but made no attempt to interfere. Soon they found themselves on the edge of the river and in sight of the bridge. Unexpectedly the bell in the gatehouse began to sound a soulful alarm. Other bells set further in the city took up the message and relayed it until the whole evening sky seemed alive with clamorous sounds.

WILDHEIT swore, then drew the breathless girl into a recess between two buildings.

“Is there another bridge, Roamer?”

“Many kilometers away.”

“Then I’m going to have to take this one the hard way. If we get cross, how will they follow us? On foot?”

“On animals, I think.”

“When we start for the bridge, keep running. Don’t stop for anything until we reach the other side.”

Wildheit began to load the projectors carried in his belt as they ran. As soon as the head of the bridge was within his range he began to open fire. The first projectiles hit their targets and lay silently for a few seconds then each started to emit a piercing scream which jarred, throbbed and interacted with the others to produce a painful cacophony of sound that easily drowned the loudest bells and drove the watchmen from the gatehouses in panic and alarm. As they congregated in the approach road, Wildheit laid a pattern of gas pellets among them, and they sagged slowly to their knees and pitched forward in ludicrous postures of sleep.

With a pellet of high explosive, Wildheit shattered
the iron gate across the path well before they reached it. Soon they were on the bridge itself. However, many watchmen were closing into the area behind them and operating some form of projected beam that disturbed the light-path in the air as it probed disturbingly close. Continuing to run, the marshal began to distribute small canisters behind him. Some of these produced eye-baffling flares and other, great clouds of smoke which the flares made luminous and thus impenetrable to the eye. Then as they reached the farther bank of the river, a great series of explosions ripped the bridge apart.

Panting painfully for breath, they stopped for a moment to look back at the damage. When the smoke had cleared there was nothing left of the bridge but a few broken piers protruding above the surface of the dark and muddied waters.

“That should hold them for a bit,” said Wildheit as he lent the panting girl his arm to lean on. From a pocket he produced a small box and began to manipulate the studs inset on its front.

“What—what are you doing?” Roamer was still fighting to regain her breath.

“If they have fast animals I doubt if we’ve time to reach the ship on foot. But I have a vehicle near my spacecraft, and I’m calling it by radio. There now, it’s coming toward us. We’ll walk on ahead until we meet it.”

Shortly the engines of the crawler sounded over the desert sands and when the vehicle appeared, Wildheit expertly halted it close by and they climbed into the cabin. The experience of riding in a mechanical vehicle was new to Roamer. She closed her eyes and clung on tightly as they moved rapidly out to where the
Gegenschein
waited. As they neared the patrol-ship, however, she opened her eyes and cried out in sudden alarm.

“Please stop! We can’t go on. Something’s terribly wrong.”