Empress of Eternity (5 page)

10 Quad 2471 R.E.

Outside the station, the late-spring midmorning temperature hovered around 39° Standard. The wind speed was negligible. That lack of meteorological instability allowed Eltyn to return to evaluating the results of the latest attempt to delve into the unseen and unknown systems controlling the station. His virties scanned the records of the device’s attempts, but only confirmed what the very first attempts had revealed—that the DNA-infused pressure probe was effective in opening conduit covers, but not in operating doors and windows.

Pressure[DNA] novel (8) ineffective in gaining interior/exterior access.

Suggests [system?] awareness of consciousness/intelligence?
Faelyna pulsed back from her work space.

Interrogative possibility of incorporating replica brain-wave patterns?

Would estimate probability of failure to approach unity.

Interrogative integration/facsimile of higher functions?
pressed Eltyn.

Equivalent result probable.

????

Your earlier observations. Windows only pass light when humans present/awake. Suggests that full-body-brain construct required. Clone offers theoretical possibility, but to what end? [disgust] Replica human equivalent to FFH.

Eltyn considered her point…and the associated probabilities. Even before a rational and quick calcjection, he knew she was right.
Agree/accept. Interrogative your basis for approach(9)? [polite inquiry, non-intrusive]

Replication of sensorium…

?????

Basis for reception…[observe]…

Eltyn appreciated the easy access to her protocols, even as he marveled at the ingenuity involved. Then he paused.
Interrogative access to polariton generator/imager?

Loan from IPS. ETA on fourday.

She’d wrangled that from the Institute for Physical Science?
Excellent. [marveling admiration] Duration of loan?

Two months. Maintenance while restructuring fusion laboratory.

Probability of shadow/dark energy imaging?

Real time/space interfaces fully examined. What remains?

Faelyna definitely had a point. The stone doors and windows reacted to human presence and acts, and intent. Yet under a complete range of observable energies, no form of radiation passed the stone’s surface, nor was there any diminution of energy upon impact, nor any observable reaction from the stone.
Shadow entanglement?

One possibility.

Interrogative follow-up approaches?
he pulsed.

Possibilities…Assistance appreciated.

[grateful thanks]
Eltyn had the feeling she was being kind. He could accept that. They’d succeed or fail as a team, and he’d not been that successful.

You spurred thought.

Had he unconsciously private-pulsed her? Or she understood what he was feeling?
From my failure…your success?

Unsuccessful efforts leading to success are not failure. Our success. [apprehension/hopefulness]

At that moment came a white pulse, followed by,
MCC Met Station(W). Request b/up data, confirming sandstorm intensities, past year. Absent from report.

?????
, Eltyn private-pulsed to Faelyna.
Idiots
⁵
! [contempt]

[
fatalism
²
]
You expected competence?

[rueful shrug]
She was right. Their project had been buried in Meteorology because RucheMet was known not to be aggressively self-examining. He pulsed back,
MetControl. Data sent. Possible transmission loss. Appendices 2 & 3. Resending this time.
It took him several seconds to locate, link, and resend the report.

MCC MetStation (W). Request b/up report transmission for future reports. CommNet capacity interference increasing.

MetControl. Will comply.

Eltyn paused, frowning. CommNet capacity interference? When RucheCom had been touting more than adequate capacity for generations to come? He keyworded/concepted the term and pulsed Ruche reference, tagging for current news.

All he got was a definition.
Loss of data in transmission resulting from unbuffered packet interruption.
The image at the top of the virtie-screen, above the words, was one of the standard ones—an image of Ruche Central, the golden-domed hexagonal structure at the center of Hururia, shimmering in the cooler sun of its northern latitude.

He pulsed Faelyna.
Capacity interference?

Raelyn noted same at IPS. [skepticism] Full-band monitoring could reduce net capacity 40%.

Eltyn pondered that for all of ten seconds, until he received another MetCom transmission.

All dispatches/reports to RucheCom and Meteorology require complete impersonality. Failure to comply will result in disciplinary action.

Complete impersonality???
offered Eltyn on a local pulse to Faelyna.
Rationale? Rationality? [ironic not-quite-disbelief]

Excessive individualism is the root of societal collapse and the bane of the Ruche. [sarcasm][snort]

The “new” tenet of The Fifty?

???? Old tenet. Very old. Resurging with the possibility of another Searing,
replied Faelyna.

IPS not solar meddling?

After the discovery of the ruins at Jheana? Not likely. Sandstorms and drought equate to Searing for most workers/drones. They vote-post. The Fifty reacts.

Unfortunately. [wince]

They may not react enough. [sadness/cynical worry] Fear reinforces worst of tradition.

Great
³
Wonder.
After a moment, Eltyn added,
Suggest we work on additional approaches for use of polariton generator/imager. Intensive uses.

[complete agreement]

Outside the station, under the smoldering sun, the temperature crept higher. The blue-gray waters of the canal held little more than ripples, those generated from the low ocean waves, ripples that subsided into stillness a handful of kays to the east of the station.

11 Siebmonat 3123, Vaniran Hegemony

Duhyle stood by the chest-high section of the protective wall that topped the main canal wall for the first kay eastward from the ocean. He watched as the sleek biosolar transport approached the station from the east. The transport eased to a stop on the blue-gray stone ten yards east of the station. The driver positioned the vehicle three yards from the protective wall. That left a good thirty yards of clear flat stone on the south side of the transport.

Duhyle waited for a moment, then walked toward the shimmering craft, whose dark exterior soaked up every possible photon.

The tall officer who stepped out and toward him wore the single silver bar of a subcaptain and the black beret of special operations. She had silvered black hair and the creamy tan skin of a transplanted norther. Her deep black irises matched her hair, except for the flecks of silver scattered around her pupils. The equipment belt at her waist held a stunner on one side and a sidearm on the other. “You must be Tech Duhyle,” she offered. The tips of her hair and eyelashes remained dark, unemotional.

“Yes, ser.”

“Is Scient-Commander Mimyra Helkyria here?”

“She is. She’s in her laboratory. Could I announce you?”

“If you would. I’m Subcaptain Symra. We’ll be unloading her equipment.”

Eight other well-muscled techs emerged from the transport. All wore the dull deep green singlesuits and boots of spec-ops. Five were women, and three were men. The shortest of the women was Duhyle’s height. Duhyle was taller than the three male techs.

“I’ll tell her.” Duhyle turned and headed back toward the station.

He had just reached the foot of the ramp up to Helkyria’s lab when he saw her hurrying down. “There’s a Subcaptain Symra and a spec-ops squad here. They have the equipment…”

“I thought they were close. I picked up a burst transmission a moment ago on our freqs.” She frowned as she rushed past Duhyle. “There was also another squawk on a shielded freq…not shielded enough.”

Duhyle trailed her outside.

“Subcaptain!” called Helkyria as soon as she stepped through the stone doorway. “Move the transport up here as close to the south side of the station as possible. Right now!”

When Helkyria used the full force and command in her voice, it reminded Duhyle why her military-security rank was commander. The demonstrations against the planetary government headed by the Vanir had increased a year earlier. Then, he had been surprised that she had not been recalled to deal with the unrest. Her assignment to the canal project—and his recall and promotion to chief tech—had confirmed that her project was far more important.

The subcaptain hesitated not at all, but gestured brusquely. The techs sprinted toward the station, and the subcaptain trotted beside the biosolar transport. Both the officer and the transport were directly beside the station entrance where Helkyria stood when the first rocket exploded—exactly where the transport had first come to rest. Shrapnel—or heavy ceramic flechettes—deluged the east end of the station. Some of the projectiles struck the rear of the transport.

Duhyle had sensed several flashing by him. Three of the techs staggered. Two straightened. One pitched forward.

“Shields!” the subcaptain snapped at the transport driver.

Only the faint distortion of the mid afternoon light revealed the shields—that and the high-pitched humming from the transport.

“Get the equipment inside before the shields fail,” ordered Helkyria.

One of the techs knelt to check the fallen man, while the others immediately opened the transport’s rear doors. Duhyle hurried to join them. He could carry equipment.

Another rocket arched down and exploded above them. The shrapnel fragments rattled against the transport’s shields, then dropped like dark hail to the stone surface, clattering irregularly. Some flechettes dropped onto the brush and grass to the south beyond the stone.

A third rocket followed, but the result was much the same.

“Tracking complete,” reported the driver. “Relayed to SecCon.”

Helkyria, standing beside the subcaptain, nodded, then said to Duhyle, “Have them take the equipment directly up to the workroom.”

“Yes, ser.” Duhyle took one of the crates as another tech handed it out of the transport and then stepped back, waiting for a moment before leading the way into the station and then up the ramp to Helkyria’s workroom.

He had just returned to the transport to carry another small crate into the station when he noted that the figure of the fallen tech had been shrouded and sealed.

The spec-ops tech with the shrouder stood. “Flechette caught him in the temple.”

Duhyle nodded. Their uniforms provided a considerable amount of protection, but not against head wounds.

The booming echo of a loud explosion rumbled through the afternoon air. He couldn’t help but glance over at Helkyria.

“SatCom located the Aesyr submersible. The debris pattern suggests that the retaliatory strike was successful.”

“No more rockets?”

“For the moment.”

Duhyle moved to the rear of the transport. There he picked up the last crate and followed the other techs inside and up the ramp. Helkyria trailed them. As he walked up the right side of the ramp, he passed the other techs coming back down, but not the subcaptain, who had remained outside with the driver.

“How long will it take us to set up?” he asked as he set down the last crate beside those already carried in by the spec-ops techs.

“A week…if nothing’s broken and everything goes right. Another few days for testing and calibration, and then we’ll see.”

Duhyle stepped back as the subcaptain walked up the ramp.

“Commander, ser. All the equipment is out of the transport.”

“Thank you, Subcaptain.” Helkyria glanced at Duhyle. “If…if you’d show the techs to their quarters on the lower level. The subcaptain will have the smaller main-level chamber.”

“Yes, Commander.” The situation was now definitely security-defined.

Once he had the remaining seven techs and the driver settled into the long chamber that served as a barracks of sorts, Duhyle made his way back up the ramp to the main level and then toward the bottom of the ramp to the workroom. He listened.

“They were waiting, ser,” offered the subcaptain.

“Why do you think I had you move behind the station so quickly? If we had entries here large enough for vehicles, there wouldn’t have been any problem at all. But then, without the attack, Security wouldn’t have been able to find and neutralize the Aesyr submersible.”

“Ser…”

“You don’t like being a target, Subcaptain? Neither do I, especially when it takes away from research that just might have a possibility of averting more unrest and more deaths in the years to come.”

“What about the reports? Won’t they bring more attacks?” The junior officer’s voice was lower, but tighter.

“Unless I’m mistaken,” said Helkyria, “there won’t be any reports at all, even on the subnets.”

“Ser? What about Tech Maruk?”

“I’m certain his death will be reported as an accident. Aren’t all spec-ops’ deaths accidents? As for the rockets, the Magistra of Security won’t report the attack, and Security will be waiting to hacktrack any reports of the attack. The Aesyr know that. They won’t risk trying to leak it, not after the destruction of the submersible. That would compromise their nets. They might try to get some naive idealist to do it, but after what happened to the Sudaarn Student Activists who became a WCE front…I don’t think that there are many idealists stupid enough to want to announce a part in an offense involving attempted premeditated homicide and treason.”

Duhyle understood that, but how long could Security keep tightening the pressure on people while rations were being stretched thinner and thinner? Or could they keep doing it for just that reason? How long before the Aesyr forced a plebiscite on the Vanir government by causing more and more unrest and blaming it on the Vanir?

He shrugged, then turned and headed back down to the kitchen. He’d be feeding more mouths, and he needed to plan the meals based on what he had in the storeroom…in addition to assembling and testing all the new equipment.