Timeweb Trilogy Omnibus (149 page)

Looking back at her, Dux noticed that her feathers had lightened slightly in hue, so that they were no longer a rich black, but were instead more of a charcoal hue, with patches of dark gray.

Beside him he heard his grandmother’s incantations louder beside him, and then she stood up. Holding the small pouch over her head, she shouted, “Zehbu, son of Buko, I implore you. Save this world!”

At that moment, the magma bubbled and smoked, and fingerlings of molten red material rose toward her, as if the planet god was reaching out to take her.

“Grandma, we’ve got to leave,” Dux said. But, as she had done earlier with Acey, she pulled away. She had a beatific expression on her wrinkled face.

Despite the old woman’s stubbornness, Dux was just about to grab her and force her to safety. At the last possible moment the lava fingers changed course, and—flowing quickly—they encircled the rocky promontory where he and his companions were. In a matter of moments, before anyone could do anything, they were found themselves on an island, with lava flowing all around them. Dux felt the heat even more than before, and smelled sulfur, as if demons below were causing the upheaval.

The lava rose again, this time all around. Higher and higher. Feeling a wave of panic, Dux saw the Mutati standing up on her bird legs. Her eyes were still a sickly yellow, veined in purple, and she looked unsteady, in no condition to fly any of them to safety. Even if Parais could lift off, she might not be strong enough for passengers.…

* * * * *

Aboard the gridjet, Noah’s pilot flew toward the coordinates that had been provided by Kekur. Just ahead, he saw the gridplanes and ‘copters of his other squadron engaged in aerial dogfights against the orange-and-gray aircraft of HibAdu forces. On the ground, soldiers on each side faced off. He saw the HibAdu encampment in flames, but its soldiers were still fighting fiercely.

“Let’s help them out,” Noah said.

His pilot nodded, and the small plane streaked into battle, firing blasts of white-hot energy at the enemy. The other ships with him followed.

* * * * *

Dux felt a jolt that knocked him down. To his horror, the rock under Grandma Zelk cracked with a loud report, and she tumbled into the lava. Her body hit the red-hot flow with a sickening
thud
and a hiss of steam, then vanished. Only her pouch of healing powder remained behind.

“Come on!” Parais shouted. “Get on my back!”

Grief-stricken, Dux grabbed the pouch and ran with Acey to the bird. As they were climbing on, Parais said, “I think I’ve found the right balance of mass and strength, and I feel a little better. I think I can fly, but no guarantees.”

“Just like life,” Acey said grimly.

She flapped her wings slowly, and began to lift off ever so slightly from the rocky deathtrap, like a heavily loaded cargo plane. Up they went, slowly and steadily. They passed through a pocket of very hot air that nearly took Dux’s breath away. Moments later, higher, the air grew cooler and more breathable.

Looking back at the rock promontory below, he saw the loyal robot Kekur standing motionless, awaiting his fate.

“Drop us off and go back for him,” Acey said, saying what Dux was already thinking.

But the living lava had another idea. Burning bright red, it swept over the rock and took Kekur with it.

Chapter Fifty

In desperate times, desperate measures are required.

—Parvii Inspiration

Accompanied by two war priests and a small Parvii guard force, the Eye of the Swarm flew over a planet that glittered in varying hues, an ever-changing effect caused by solar conditions and the movement of glassy dust through the atmosphere. Once a favored site for galactic tourists and for the development of a machine army, the world had since fallen into complete disuse. With no regularly scheduled podships to bring anyone back, it was perfect for his needs.

Ignem
.

The resurrection of this remote planet’s importance would run parallel to the reawakening of the Parvii race. Soon he would have billions and billions of Parviis to set up military defenses here. Or, he could find another similar planet for his purposes. For what he had in mind, he only needed Ignem for a few days. Certainly, no one would disturb him in that time. High overhead in the orbital ring, there were still a few hundred machines at the Inn of the White Sun, but they were not expected to be any problem. They had no means of space travel, and even their shuttles for reaching the planet were slow and easily thwarted.

Woldn had come to believe in contingency plans. It was not something he had been particularly good at in the past when things were going well for the Parviis, but recently—in his hours of shame and despair—he had found himself reaching out, trying new things. Sprinkling seeds for the reawakening of his race.

For some time now, his breeding specialists had been operating a new propagation program inside the telepathic bubble, which Woldn had concealed far from Ignem in a dark, remote region of the galaxy where there were no suns or planets, and no other races were likely to interfere with his plans. Thousands of Parvii embryos had already been born, and more in incubation were about to be born. It was a steady, proven process.

But something even larger and more important had occurred, and this would involve Ignem. It would be a second, and potentially much larger, crucible for forging new life.…

* * * * *

Weeks ago, when Woldn and most of his swarm were on the Adurian homeworld, he had dispatched tiny spies to gather information from the entire laboratory complex. For millennia, it had been widely known that the Adurians operated the most advanced biological research and development facilities in the galaxy. But the products of those labs were not always known, since operations were kept under the tightest security. But during his visit, Woldn had taken measures to find out what they were up to.

And he had accomplished that goal like a magician. The skill of misdirection.

While the Adurian leaders were focused on Woldn and his swarm in the observation galleries, his tiny spies were entering secret lab areas through the smallest openings, where they gathered data and transmitted it telepathically to the Eye of the Swarm. Not really understanding what they were looking at, the Parvii infiltrators were like little cameras, recording information and sending it out for compilation and investigation. Even Woldn did not comprehend what they provided to him, so he took it back to the five breeding specialists at the telepathic bubble.

The breeding specialists had been astounded by what they learned. Inside the bubble, hovering hear the incubating Parvii embryos, they had met with Woldn. One of the breeding specialists, Qryst, had spoken for the others.

“The new information is exceedingly complex,” he said. “Even with years of study, we might never understand all of it. But some important facts have emerged. First, that strange leader you saw is a hybrid of Hibbil and Adurian genes, one of only three that they created in the laboratory. Three that lived, I should say.”

“And one of them is a leader? It looks like he at least runs the laboratory, and I suspect he’s even more important than that.”

“It seems backward, doesn’t it? Growing leaders in a bio-lab. And yet, that appears to be what they did. But beyond that, we have learned something even more important, at least for our purposes.”

“Yes?” Woldn felt his metabolism accelerate, and he heard it buzz around him.

“Although the Adurians have developed many methods of breeding, some of their incubation methods run parallel with ours. It is in this area that we focused our attention, trying to build on what we already know. The effort has required the mental probes of all five of us in concert, utilizing every bit of Parvii genetic knowledge that we have. And finally, I am pleased to report, we have something that is extremely useful.”

“What is it? Get to the point, please!”

“The Adurians have a very clever, and very basic, incubation generator that produces births in a much larger number, and at a greater speed, than we ever dreamed possible. It is so simple that I’m surprised we didn’t think of ourselves. But of course, with the historical successes of the Parviis, we didn’t need to, did we? We grew lazy, and complacent.”

One of the other breeding specialists, Jeed, interjected. “On the other hand, our predecessors may have investigated this method and discarded it because of its inherent problems.”

Woldn felt a sudden letdown.

“Nothing insurmountable,” Qryst said.

“But it is something we must pay close attention to,” Jeed insisted. “It seems that the incubation generators cause birth defects in a significant percentage of the embryos. We can produce many more Parviis with this method, but it must be done carefully, with strict quality control, segregation, and disposal procedures.”

“What percentage will have defects?”

“As much as one in eighteen. We might get that as low as one in thirty, but I don’t think we can do much better than that.”

“There are methods of analyzing the embryos for defects,” Qryst said, “so that we can get rid of them before birth.”

“Of course, a small number of defective embryos will slip past any screening,” Jeed said. He seemed to be the pessimist of the two. “Some of the hardier defective embryos will adapt for their own survival, so we will need to keep adapting ourselves.”

“And the percentage of defects that get through?” Woldn asked, not sure how he felt about all of this new information.

“Very low,” Qryst said. “Perhaps ten in a billion.”

“I don’t suppose I want to know what sort of defects they might have,” Woldn said.

Qryst smiled. “Minor problems, for the most part.”

“Theoretically,” Jeed said.

“Nothing to worry about,” Qryst retorted. “They won’t be able to fly through space, or they will be slower, or they won’t have telepathic abilities. We’ll soon find them even if they are born.”

Now, remembering all of this, Woldn led his guard swarm down toward the glassy surface of the planet. They passed through the red dust of a volcano, and entered a lava tube.

In his newfound system of developing contingency plans, Woldn had set up two distinct Parvii breeding programs, and had assigned breeding specialists to each. The initial program, the traditional one, would continue back in the telepathic bubble, under the direction of Imho and two other breeding specialists. This was the tried and true method, the way that his race had always bred. Assisting Imho in the bubble would be the pessimistic Jeed, and another breeding specialist, Sosk. As the reincarnated versions of past breeding specialists, the three of them were expected to be steady, predictable performers.

Here on Ignem, the new Adurian-inspired breeding program (and by far the most exciting of the two), was under the direction of Qryst, since he had shown such enthusiasm for the concept of incubation generators. To Woldn, he seemed like the sort of positive personality who would find ways around problems, a scientist who would keep the program going, despite difficulties. Assisting him would be Ruttin, a breeding specialist who in ancient times had been brilliant but erratic. Woldn expected Qryst, equally brilliant but more emotionally stable, to keep him in line.

Qryst and Ruttin had been on Ignem for only a short time, setting up the cutting-edge program. Already they were reporting excellent progress, and were ready to combine their efforts with those of the war priests.

Inside the warm lava tubes of the volcanic planet, tens of billions of Parviis were breeding, using the laboratory methods of the Adurians. The Parviis were massing to attack again, breeding much faster than they could under natural conditions. In the past, a machine army had formed on the surface of Ignem, and had gone off to fight for the merchant princes.

Now a far more powerful force would emerge, one that would smash all opponents into oblivion.

Chapter Fifty-One

The great unknown is a lure and a terror. Simultaneously it beckons and threatens us, and we find ourselves unable to resist the temptation. We simply must walk down those creaking stairs into the dark cellar.

—Ancient observation

On the unnamed planet in the unknown solar system, Pimyt scurried along a now-familiar path through the gray jungle. A morning fog hug low and moistened the fur on his face as he moved through it. He was the first one in the party to rise today, and had gone for a walk so that he could think, and settle his nerves.

The stranded group had even more problems than they had initially imagined. Something in the air had eroded the engines of the shuttle, so that the craft no longer flew at all. It was only good for a shelter, and already they were out of the packaged meals they had brought with them. That left only the local plants that they could gather from the jungle, most of which had minimal food value. No one had expected having to remain away from the space station for so long.

Despite the obstacles, they had developed a routine in the weeks that they had been here. Every morning, seven or eight Red Berets would go out on foot on hunting and gathering expeditions, while three or four would remain with the shuttle, guarding it and performing other tasks. The highest ranking guardsmen among them, Lieutenant Eden Rista, had some scientific training, so he set up a work station in the shuttle where he performed tests on plants to confirm that they were potentially edible, with worthwhile nutrients.

Lorenzo acted as if he was in charge of the operation, but Pimyt and a number of the soldiers only tolerated him. As time passed, the aged merchant prince was getting more irritable and difficult to tolerate. Among other things, he kept complaining about the limited number of items they had on their menu. Part of that had to do with the genetic unsuitability of far-planet microbiology, the fact that Humans and other races were not able to eat and digest extremely alien foods. That was a problem here, so the soldiers had performed tests on various plants and had used customized additives, to make them edible.