The Orphaned Worlds (83 page)
Then information on planetside comms traffic began arriving at the tactical station. The tactical officer, Berg, tidied it a little before sending it to Captain Gideon’s station and to the auxiliary set up for Theo’s use.
There were transmission frequencies, ground coordinates, encryption levels, and expandable transcript summaries. Many were in Anglic, or Anglic variants, others were in Brolturan–Sendruklan (and had been translated), but there was a swath of others in several other languages, mainly Henkayan, Gomedran, and Kiskashinan, according to the onscreen commentary. As he read through some of the transcripts, the appalling outlines of recent events emerged, leaving him feeling angry and impatient.
‘I’ve known nothing like this in my time,’ Gideon said. ‘A few generations ago the Dol-Das-ruled Yamanon suffered a wave of divine sieges, mostly taking place within this or that solar system. Interstellar divine sieges are rare, successful ones rarer still. But these zealots call themselves Followers of the Spiral Prophecy, a very new splinter-faith of the Father-Sage religion.’
Theo stared at the screen and shook his head.
‘The Winter Coup was nothing like this,’ he said. ‘Not even the New Town Successions caused this kind of havoc. If only I knew what’s happened to my nephew …’
‘Excuse me, Major,’ said Berg. ‘Is his surname Cameron?’
‘Yes, why?’
The tactical officer gazed at his holodisplay. ‘Right, I’ll slot that name into the filters. I’m sure I saw a few entries with that name … yes, here’s one: “… Varstrand’s
Har
flew Greg Cameron and some others to Giant’s Shoulder for God knows why, and no one’s heard anything from them since,” and the reply is “The place is crawling with machines now – I’m not surprised,” and it then goes on about refugee camps south of Lake Morwen …’
Theo sighed, trying to grasp the storm of conflict and confusion that had descended upon his world, toppling all certainties.
‘Captain,’ he said. ‘Can you tell when these fanatics began their invasion?’
‘Radiation and ionisation analysis puts it at nearly two days ago,’ said Gideon.
‘The Brolturans would not be pleased to lose such a vessel, I’m thinking, yet no sign of reinforcements.’
‘Retaliation will come,’ said Gideon. ‘The Brolturans and the Hegemony are very likely assembling a large task force with the aim of enforcing a major interdiction.’
‘Sounds serious,’ Theo said.
‘It is very serious – all inhabitants are documented down to the gene map, then tagged, usually with ankle clasps, but sometimes with neck ones …’
‘Sorry to break in, sir,’ said Berg. ‘But the filter has just flagged up a mention of Greg Cameron … okay, it says, “… picked up my passengers,
ja
, and a risky one, the big man. He said that Cameron got through with the cargo, which I say makes me feel better about having my boat ripped up, hah!”, and the reply is, “How soon will you be back?”, and he says, “Maybe five hours, if I must be the safety pilot, eh?”’
Suddenly Theo felt energised. ‘That man is a zeplin pilot – can you raise him, contact him?’
‘Shouldn’t be a problem,’ said Berg, fingers working at his holodisplay control interface. A moment later he said:
‘Calling unidentified vessel, this is scoutcraft
Starfire
– please respond.’
‘
Starfire
, eh? Never heard of you, which makes you unidentified, eh? Well, this is the sturdily built and expertly flown zeplin
Har
. How are you doing there?’
Theo laughed out loud. ‘Hey, Varstrand, you old spanner shaker – still flying that leaky gasbag, eh?’
‘Well, well, so either my ears have gone mad or I’m hearing the wheezy voice of Theo Karlsson. I hear you flew up to Nivyesta, but now you’re back to help us all, maybe, eh?’
‘That’s more true than you know, but first I need to know about my nephew, Greg – is he safe, do you know?’
‘Hmmph, not so sure. You should talk to the man who knows …’ There were scratching, clicking noises, then a different voice spoke, with a Rus accent. ‘Hello, Major Karlsson?’
‘Yes – who is this, please?’
‘I am Alexandr Vashutkin – I was the last one to see Greg alive.’
Theo swallowed, suddenly sombre. ‘What happened, exactly?’
‘I cannot go into details – this connection is not so secure. All I know is that he gained entrance to the Brolturan building while I did what I could to draw off the attention of a pack of combat droids. But eventually I had to escape, and I was lucky enough to find a hiding place and then to get picked up by these guys …’
‘I see,’ said Theo, then recalled something. ‘Mr Vashutkin, are you the same Vashutkin who was in Sundstrom’s cabinet?’
‘Yes, sir, I am. Can you come to Tusk Mountain? – we have a base there. Perhaps I can persuade you to join us. I know that your experience would be invaluable.’
Theo glanced at Gideon, who smiled and nodded.
‘Yes, Mr Vashutkin, I should be able to find it. I’ll be bringing some more bodies to help, so I look forward to meeting you.’
‘Already you are making the difference, Major! Be seeing you soon.’
The line went dead.
‘So it appears that there is some kind of organised resistance,’ said Gideon. ‘This Vashutkin must be resourceful to evade a pack of combat mechs.’
Theo nodded but his thoughts were going over what the Rus said about Greg. He must have been on a mission involving that damned warpwell, and if he managed to reach it safely, who knows where he could be? The disappearance of Ambassador Horst was for ever seared into his memory.
Ah, Greg lad
, he thought.
What have you got yourself mixed up in?
The body lay on a white C-table, which sat out on a balcony overlooking the stepped terraces of the Garden of the Machines.
‘He looks so peaceful,’ said Rosa, one of the taller military variants. ‘Which is fitting after what he went through.’
The Construct made no reply as it continued the autopsy scan. Real-sample blood and tissue biopsies would soon be complete but they were not expected to reveal any divergence from the earlier resonant field scans.
‘Multiple puncture wounds by lesser xezri barbs,’ it then said. ‘Each barb delivers 0.5 milligrams of synaptic inhibitor designed to pass through membranes, spread and shut down all control and distributed functions. The inhibitor has been isolated and analysis shows no evidence of modification.’
‘Someone must have uncovered a pre-Forerunner biocache,’ Rosa said. ‘Perhaps something left over from the Zarl Empire. I was reading about them earlier.’
‘Documents concerning the Zarl are inherently suspect,’ the Construct said. ‘As is any file claiming to date back longer than a million years or more. Mischievous minds have lain behind many a believable hoax …’
Rosa straightened. ‘You have an important visitor approaching. I shall leave.’
‘It is not necessary that you depart.’
‘I think that my presence would be unproductive.’
Rosa moved away, leaving by a small side door. Moments later, the main balcony access sighed open and someone else entered and came over to stand on the other side of the C-table.
‘He succeeded in his task,’ said the Construct. ‘He was brave, resourceful and determined. You should be proud of him.’
Robert Horst looked down at the body that was like his body, with a face that was his own.
‘I’m not sure what to think,’ he said. ‘Although there’s the feeling of having lost a brother, almost.’ He closed his eyes, shook his head. ‘Which is foolish.’
‘Imprinting your mind on one of my semiorganics was the simplest, quickest way of retaining your skills and knowledge for the Zyradin mission, a crucial and pressing matter now successfully concluded.’
‘I agree that I was in no condition after you rescued me from that pocket universe,’ Robert said. ‘But I still feel guilty.’
‘From my observations, it seems that guilt is an overbearing emotion, especially since it was I, not you, who employed this life-form this way.’
‘Guilt is powerful,’ Robert said sombrely. ‘It can have strange effects.’
‘Ah, so we come to your own mission to the region of the Godhead,’ said the Construct. ‘I have read the concise, even compact, report that you so kindly wrote out for me. Now I am wondering if you are ready to give me a verbal account, subject to my own interjections and requests for clarity.’
Robert regarded the lifeless form’s peaceful face, and took a deep breath.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m ready.’
This being the first time I’ve written a proper middle book of a trilogy (well,
Shadowgod
didn’t really count since
Shadowmasque
took up the story 300 years later), I feel kinda apprehensive. But hopefully it does what it’s supposed to do, and if it does it’s mainly due to the skilled perception of the editorial team at Orbit, specifically their point-woman Bella, whose graceful persistence and illuminating insight got me thinking and rethinking about how the story’s balance should play out. Thanks also go forth to Dave W. whose rock-steady, eagle-eyed scrutiny always keeps me attentive to the Detail (in which is the devil, I’m told).
A joyful brandishing of the sombrero goes out to John Parker and John Berlyn, my agents at Zeno, to Joshua Bilmes, to the team at Thomas Schluck, to my German publishers Heyne and my French publishers, Bragelonne. A big Dia Duit to Gary Gibson over in Taiwan, to Stewart Robinson in Musselburgh, to Ian McDonald in Belfast, to Eric Brown, Ian Sales, Jack Deighton, Neil Williamson, Keith Brooke, Debbie Miller, the whole GSFWCers, the Edinburgh Writers Group, to Ian Whates, to Pete Crowther, to Trevor Denyer, to the indefatigable Charlie Stross, to Cuddles and Scottish conrunners everywhere. And a salute to Graeme Fleming, progmetalmeister of the Southern Domains (AKA Paisley), and a tip o’ the hat to Ronnie and Katie, to Spencer and Adrian, and absolutely every metal fan in Glasgow and beyond.
Limitless thanks go, of course, to Susan, who was very patient with my woolgathering and absentmindedness while the book gestated and emerged onto the page.
The soundtrack for this particular literary journey was provided by Rammstein, Megadeth (new CD is a stormer, I kid you not), the mighty Pallas, Gazpacho, Wobbler, Black Water Rising, the brilliant Red Flag, Gandhi’s Gunn, Heaven & Hell, IQ, the long-lost Mudshark, Sensational Alex Harvey Band, Porcupine Tree, Eternal Elysium, Younger Brother, and Glass Hammer. From here on out, the music just keeps getting better and better. Venceremos!
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