The Orphaned Worlds (72 page)
Greg spun away, diving towards the deck, arms wrapped about his head.
A deafening chorus of weaponsfire filled the cabin. He craned his neck to glance back and saw the beast machine holed and battered by an onslaught of volleys, one of which reduced its outstretched, bulky arm to a punctured, torn wreck shorn of its taloned grab. Another ferocious volley hit, and lights went out in its squat head, in the chest and arms, and it toppled backwards out of the gaping stern.
As Vashutkin and Maclean hauled Greg to his feet he stared at his hands, at the blue glowing motes just visibly moving beneath the skin.
‘What was that?’ said Vashutkin.
‘The Zyradin … did something, I don’t know what,’ he said, slightly dazed. ‘How about you – what did you shoot that snake thing with?’
Vashutkin grinned and patted the big Brolturan beam weapon, which was resting across two seat backs.
‘This is a variant on the usual design,’ he said. ‘This one fires some kind of emp bolt, blows out their nasty, evil circuits …’
‘My ship!’ wailed Varstrand from his cockpit. ‘You see? This is the crazy trip!’
‘We need more height,’ Vashutkin told the pilot, then glanced at Greg. ‘And back on course to Giant’s Shoulder.’
They exchanged a slight but definite nod. Greg then sidled towards the stern, trying to ignore the icy, whistling gusts whipping through the opening. Holding on to an overhead stanchion he peered out at the receding hill, thinking about Rory and contemplating another addition to his burden of grief and loss. And then, for a moment, he saw a number of gleaming shapes appear in a gap in the hillside foliage, fast-moving and in pursuit.
‘What can you see?’ said someone.
‘Hellhounds on our trail, boys,’ he said. ‘Looks like it’s gonna get ugly.’
Uvovo Ambassador Utavess Kuros had intended to fly north to Trond to inspect the remnants of the surviving units. He wanted to study their officers’ summaries, set their tactical and strategic objectives, and get an accurate sense of the readiness of the remaining airworthy craft before returning to Giant’s Shoulder. But recent reports confirmed that yet another horde of Spiralist fanatics had closed in from the south and were attempting to fight their way up to the ridge, part of the pincer movement that now had the promontory as its focus. And they were armed to the teeth, including a variety of portable missile launchers more than capable of bringing down Brolturan vehicles, as they had already discovered to their cost. In addition, the chaotic valleys to the west were swarming with renegades and insurgents of every kind, all eager to take pot-shots at anything in the air, thus making flights in or out too hazardous.
He thought morosely on these matters while seated in what passed for personal chambers in the science facility. Now fully built and functioning, it sat over the huge access trench he had ordered cut into the promontory soon after his forces had taken possession just a few weeks ago. Below lay the chamber with the Forerunner warpwell, now being exhaustively probed, measured and fussed over by a frequently incomprehensible coterie of scientists whose babble often threatened the underpinnings of his sanity. Yet even their jargon and occasional lapses in manners were preferable to the cold and deadly presence of the Clarified Teshak.
Ever since the destruction of the
Purifier
, the Clarified One had devoted himself wholly to the defences of Giant’s Shoulder, the newly installed tactical barriers, the squat towers providing crossfire on the approach from the ridge, the fortified emplacements guarding the gullies and ravines to north and south, and the beam cannon battery. This left matters relating to the warpwell in Kuros’s hands, as well as coordination of the Brolturan remnant units. Without the
Purifier
, the communications network had fallen apart and calls for tactical support never got through. The first twenty-four hours after the death of the
Purifier
were a chaotic whirlwind of violence and retribution, and by the time partially secure stopgap comms were operational the Spiral fanatics were landing in their thousands.
Now, nearly three days later, the outlook was much improved, despite the Spiralists’ successes. A couple of mobile builder drones were retrieved from the Lochiel depot before it was overrun, lifted to Giant’s Shoulder and put to work. Almost all Brolturan troops had rejoined their own units, or formed into patchwork ones. The Trond encampment was well dug in and equipped with power and supplies, and would soon be in a position to move against Spiralist elements who had occupied several towns south of Trond. And his comms technicians were working to reestablish contact with their sensor satellites, which would provide the kind of strategic overview that had been sorely missed.
Only two things marred this progress: the loss of all contact with the Namul-Ashaph, the mech factory, and the complete lack of response to his priority signal from either Hegemony or Brolturan listening posts. For the former, it was possible that the comms crash critically damaged the autofactory’s systems, while for the latter he was for the time being assuming that, somehow, the Spiralists were jamming extraplanetary communications.
And while all of this was going on, the investigation into the warpwell had proceeded in leaps and bounds. According to the Chief Scientist, almost the entirety of the warpwell’s upper layer had been successfully analysed, with more than half the energy pattern pathways now subverted and working for the Hegemony technicians. With these pathways, they had prepared an elaborate trap for the guardian entity, an array of sensor clusters preset to pinpoint the entity’s originating substrate then flood it with disrupting energy, effectively erasing the guardian from the warpwell and thereby unlocking its secrets. All they were waiting for was a visit from the entity, the Sentinel.
Kuros leaned back, smiling in the certainty that he could hold out at Giant’s Shoulder almost indefinitely. When Hegemony forces finally arrived and took possession of the orbits and skies of Darien, assault brigades would be sent down to scour away the Spiral zealot filth. And when the Overcommander and his accompanying Tri-Advocate stepped down onto Giant’s Shoulder, he, Utavess Kuros, would be able to unveil the fruit of tireless labours carried out beneath his aegis. In the light of such self-evidently illustrious expertise, not to mention his aura of modest dignity, the bestowal of honours and promotion would practically be a necessity …
He was suddenly aware of Gratach’s presence off to the side, standing with his back to the blank, as yet unpowered holowall. His AI mind-brother’s opaque figure stood spear-straight, garbed in segmented gold and red armour, his arms crossed, his head bare, his fierce face regarding Kuros.
‘
You have a visitor, one of those prating technologists, the chief one. He is agitated
.’
‘He is always agitated over some minor detail or other.’
Gratach gave a grin that was half a snarl.
‘
This does not concern a mere detail.
’
Kuros shrugged. ‘Admit him.’
The doors to his chamber slid open and Chief Scientist Tabri hurried in. At the edge of Kuros’s field of vision the still-grinning Gratach faded away.
Tabri was attired in a high-collared, dark blue and crimson robe whose high-status shoulder insignia were somewhat negated by the virulent yellow chemical splashes adorning its lower folds.
‘Chief Scientist, what brings you—’
‘Most High Monitor,’ Tabri cut in. ‘Esteemed Ambassador, pray tell me why we are being punished.’
Startled, Kuros straightened in his chair. ‘Punished? What do you mean?’
‘Please! – do not play with me! I refer to the order for all my personnel to cease their activities and prepare to depart from the facility immediately, an order received from you not fifteen minutes ago!’
‘I have issued no such order,’ Kuros said. ‘Clearly, there has been a gross administrative error …’
The Chief Scientist’s expression was sour. ‘Ah, of course, Ambassador – errors, minor faults, misunderstandings, the usual regalia of courtly intrigue! Let me be blunt – if you wish some favour or gift from me, say what it is so that I may return to my work …’
‘I gave no such order,’ Kuros repeated angrily, rising from his chair. ‘And I require no favours from you or any …’
Then the door opened and the slender, black-garbed figure of the Clarified Teshak entered.
‘Is there a problem with your orders, Chief Scientist?’ Teshak said pleasantly.
Tabri looked round in surprise. ‘You are aware of them, high one?’
‘Indeed – the ambassador discussed them with me earlier. You’re not thinking of questioning them, are you?’
‘No, ah…’ Tabri met Teshak’s icy gaze for a moment and seemed to shrink visibly. ‘If these are the orders, I must … carry them out. I shall see to my staff, without delay.’ Looking miserable, he then left.
Kuros had tried to interject but found that his voice was dead, his throat soundless. The moment the door closed behind Tabri his voice returned. And his mind-brother General Gratach appeared right beside him. For a moment Kuros’s gaze flicked between Gratach and Teshak.
‘Was it you who issued that order to my scientists, your Clarity?’
‘I issued that order to all personnel on Giant’s Shoulder,’ said the Clarified Teshak. ‘Several transports will be landing on the pad shortly.’
Stunned, Kuros sank back into his chair. ‘What could possibly justify abandoning this place, just when we are making such excellent progress with the warpwell?’
‘The reasoning is quite straightforward,’ said Teshak. ‘The failure of this mission and the subsequent disastrous military clash with an Imisil Mergence fleet – they’ve been assembling it under conditions of extreme secrecy but every secret can find an ear – will lead to the downfall of the Hegemony’s governing faction and a crisis of policy and authority. The Clarified will then step forward, in league with certain traditionalist groups, to propose a new direction for the Hegemony, one less hampered by consideration for the feelings of half-hearted allies.’
Gratach grunted in agreement, smiling.
‘What will happen to this facility?’ Kuros said.
‘Several groups want to gain control of it,’ said Teshak. ‘Some want to wreck the warpwell, others to unleash its powers against enemies. Hostilities will ensue, turmoil and killing that will only serve our cause by blackening the governing policy, whose representative is, of course, you.’
‘But you would sacrifice something that might give the Hegemony a crucial advantage …’
‘Many such possibilities have been explored by Hegemony officials in recent centuries, and usually they turn out to be a waste of effort and a drain on financial resources. We Clarified are confident that our vision of the future will bring tangible and long-lasting benefit to the Hegemony, as well as widening our dominance of the greater region.’
Kuros felt fear quivering in his chest and his limbs.
‘If you’re telling me this, you must be planning to have me executed.’
‘Oh, Kuros, how dramatic! That would be a waste, in more ways than one.’ The Clarified Teshak strolled across the room, hands locked behind his back. ‘We need you to carry out the tasks allotted to you. This is how it will be explained – surrounded by enemies and under pressure from your own feelings of inadequacy, your nerve broke and you ordered a full evacuation of Giant’s Shoulder. Later, after relocating to the northern camp, your sense of shame was so great that you decided to atone for your craven cowardice by choosing the path of clarification. By giving your spirit into the hands of Voloasti you allowed your mind-brother, Gratach, to ascend to full sentience, thereby furthering the aims and glory of the Sendrukan Hegemony.’
Kuros glanced uneasily at the opaque image of his mind-brother, Gratach, scarcely able to believe that it would turn against him. And when he made to speak once again his vocal cords were silent. When he tried to turn his head, to move his hands, even to stand, he found he was locked in position, every muscle unresponsive, his body an impervious block.
‘Clarification is an intricate process,’ said Teshak. ‘Therefore, we’ll need to ensure that your role is played without flaws or risky notions of sabotage.’
Off to the side, Gratach’s image faded, melted away. When it was wholly gone, Kuros’s hands drew back to the edge of his desk, pushing as he stood up. The Clarified Teshak came into view, smiling as he indicated the door.
And not one movement, not a single muscle, was controlled by Kuros. His body had become a cage.
NO SIGN OF OCCUPANCY AND NO ENERGY SIGNATURESNO POWER IS BEING GENERATED AND NO DATASTREAMS ARE BEING RELAYED FROM THE TELEMETRY POINTSI ADVISE CAUTION