Among the Powers (9 page)

The houses in his native village were walled
with various kinds of brick or woven grasses and roofed with thatch
over timber. Timber was scarce and expensive in the grasslands. A
room more than four meters across was a rare extravagance; his
parents’ home had none over three.

This room was easily ten meters across and
twenty meters long. Wide windows took up most of three walls, using
as much glass as half his village—the openings he had seen from the
terrace, save for the single doorway they had entered through, were
all such windows, and Bredon marvelled that they could be made so
large and yet not have the glass collapse of its own weight.

The floor was stone, matching the terrace,
but much of it was hidden beneath fur rugs. Looking at the rugs
Bredon could not identify what creature had provided the fur for
any of them. A faint scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke reached
him.

The sweeping emptiness of the room was
broken up by half a dozen scattered couches and an assortment of
small tables. The wall that held no windows consisted in large part
of an immense alcove that Bredon realized was a fireplace only
after he had spotted both the ash in the bottom and the flue at the
back.

Tiny spots of color flitted about the room,
and Bredon recognized them as the same creatures that had
surrounded Lady Sunlight. She
had
come here. He felt the
muscles of his throat and chest tightening in anticipation.

“Hello!” Geste called as they stepped
inside.

“Hello, Mr. Geste,” a smooth, masculine
voice replied from the empty air. Bredon looked for its source, but
saw nothing. “I regret to say that Lady Sheila is not at home just
now, but we expect her back shortly. Is there anything I can do for
you? Would you like to wait?”

“Is Lady Sunlight here? I see some of her
flutterbugs.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but she went with Lady
Sheila. The flutterbugs were a housewarming gift.”

Bredon felt harsh disappointment welling
within him.

“Damn,” Geste muttered under his breath.
“Missed her!” Aloud, he asked, “But she
was
here?”

“Yes, sir, Lady Sunlight arrived a few hours
ago. I understand she will be staying for several sleeps.”

“You expect her back?”

“Oh, yes, sir.”

“When?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Where did they go? Did they say?”

“Yes, sir. Lady Sheila, Lady Sunlight, and
Rawl the Adjuster have gone to the High Castle. I believe they felt
called upon to settle a disagreement between Brenner of the
Mountains and Thaddeus the Black.”

Bredon had observed this exchange without
comment. He had determined to his own satisfaction that the voice
was not coming from any of the walls, nor the floor, nor the
ceiling. It was coming from empty air, in the center of the room,
which was impossible. He also did not really know what a castle
was, though he had heard the word in childhood stories. More
specifically, he did not know what the High Castle was, or why so
many of the Powers should be gathering there. The mention of Rawl
the Adjuster, the legendary incarnation of justice and mercy,
impressed him, even here in the home of the Lady of the Seasons,
with the notorious Trickster at his side. He told himself that he
should be becoming accustomed to these casual references to the
figures of legend, particularly since he had yet to actually meet
any but the Trickster, but the name still carried an impact, and it
added further to his mounting burden of curiosity, so that he could
hold back no longer. “Who are you talking to?” he demanded. “What’s
going on?”

“I’m talking to Sheila’s housekeeper,” Geste
replied, a trifle impatiently.

“Why can’t I see him?”

“Because it’s invisible.”

Bredon started to protest that that was
impossible, but thought better of it. Among the Powers he had no
way of knowing what, if anything, might be impossible. Instead, he
asked, “What’s the High Castle?”

“That’s the stronghold of Brenner of the
Mountains, about a hundred kilometers southwest of here. And I
think that’s where we’re headed.” He spun on his heel and marched
back out onto the terrace.

Bredon hurriedly followed; behind them the
housekeeper’s voice called, “Safe journey, sir; I’ll tell Lady
Sheila you were here.”

Bredon heard no command, saw no gesture, but
the platform glided smoothly over to meet them.

‘“
...a strong head indeed, for a mortal,’ said
Brenner, as he calmly stood up.

“
Mighty Konnel looked up at him in shock, still
just barely sober enough to realize that although the whole world
seemed to be spinning, Brenner was standing straight and steady.
Yet he had seen the Power down two drinks to each of his own, and
all poured from the same bottles!

‘“
I don’t understand it,’ he said, the liquor
loosening his tongue, ‘I just don’t understand it. I’ve drunk men
twice your size under the table, and now I can’t move, while you
aren’t even staggered!’

‘“
Ah,’ Brenner said, ‘but you can never drink one
of us under the table, for we are never drunker than we choose to
be. Listen, man, they call you the mighty Konnel, and you’re as
mighty a mortal as I’ve ever met, but when you match yourself
against an immortal you have no chance. When we matched arms, I
drew on the strength of steel as well as bone; when we tested our
eyes I saw the target with more than mortal sight, and threw with
the aid of demons; when we drank, a spirit in my body took the
alcohol when I had had enough. Here, take my hand, and the spirit
will draw the drunkenness from you, as well.’

“
Konnel managed to bring a hand up where Brenner
could grasp it, and suddenly the fog vanished from his head and the
strength returned to his limbs, so that he felt better than he ever
had before, as if the strength of the mountains themselves was
pouring into him. He stood and laughed in amazement and
joy.

‘“
There!’ Brenner said. ‘Now, go back to your
village and tell them that you did as you swore to do, and that I
had to cheat to best you, and you caught me at it—that’s close
enough to the truth, and I’ve no need to shame you. You’re a good
man, mighty Konnel, and I’d be glad of your company should you ever
care to return. In your honor I swear that I shall never again send
the lightning to burn your village, so long as you live there—but
that your people, all save yourself, must still stay away from my
mountain. And take this as proof.’ And he handed Konnel a crystal
cup that shone with a light of its own and spoke when
questioned.

“
And the mighty Konnel thanked him loudly, and
they shook hands and parted as friends...”

—
from the tales of Atheron the
Storyteller

Bredon glanced up at the western sky as they flew,
and realized with a shock that the sun was still high overhead.
Geste had found him early that same light; they had crossed the
prairie and the mountains in less than half a light!

As he lowered his gaze to the ground again
something glittered in the distance. He stared, but could not make
out any details.

The Trickster appeared to be casually
watching the scenery flicker past beneath their feet, not
particularly involved with anything, and Bredon found the courage
to ask, “What’s that?”

Geste looked up and followed Bredon’s
pointing finger. He squinted, then said, “Give me some
magnification.”

The air in front of him wavered, like the
air above a blacksmith’s forge, for an instant. From Bredon’s point
of view, when the waver vanished it left a discontinuity, as if a
little bit of reality had been tucked away out of sight.

It hurt his eyes to look at it; he turned
away, looking back at the glitter.

Whatever it was, it was approaching them
quickly. He still could not tell what it was, but he could see a
shining silver shape growing steadily larger.

“What in hell...” Geste began.

“Warning,” a voice said from somewhere just
above Bredon’s left ear. He spun around, almost losing his balance,
and found a gleaming
something
hanging in mid-air,
centimeters away.

“Warning,” it repeated. “Approaching drone
is equipped for heavy assault, and does not respond to attempts at
communication.”

“We’ve got the fields up full, don’t we?”
Geste demanded, glancing up at his floater.

“The standard ones, yes, sir, of course we
do. However, the approaching drone is of unknown origin and
capabilities.”

“It is?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What the hell is it doing here?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Can it really hurt us?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Damn!”

Then the glittering thing was on top of
them, and for a moment Bredon’s world vanished in a blazing fury of
light and noise. The platform beneath his feet trembled slightly as
impossibly bright colors blinded him and a deafening roar shook his
bones.

“Whoa,” Geste said as the light and sound
died away. “That’s serious, isn’t it?”

Bredon blinked, clearing spots from his
eyes, and turned to see the glittering thing—it was shaped
something like a fish, he noticed—to the east, its path curving
back around to make another pass at the platform.

“Have we got any weapons with us, any way to
shoot back?” Geste asked.

“No, sir,” the floater replied. “I wasn’t
aware that any might be called for.”

“Neither was I,” the Trickster said
ruefully, watching the drone complete its turn and head back toward
him. “Drop us down out of its line of attack, would you?”

“Yes, sir,” the floater said. Immediately,
the mountains rose up around them, though Bredon could not feel any
sensation of sinking or falling. They were still speeding forward,
as well, so that the sunlit trees and rocks were now flashing past
on all sides, rather than merely below them.

The drone swept overhead, but already it was
turning to follow and starting to descend.

“Who sent that thing?” Geste demanded.

“I don’t know, sir. I’m restricted to
on-board systems while maintaining full defensive fields, and I
have no data at all on it.”

“Whoever it is, he must be crazy, shooting
at me like that!”

“I would have to agree with that assessment,
sir. Unfortunately, as you know, insanity is common among
immortals.”

“It is?” Bredon squeaked, startled. The idea
of an insane Power was new and frightening, somehow more
frightening than the thing that had just attacked them.

Geste and the floater ignored him. “How is
it tracking us?” Geste asked.

“I can’t be sure, sir,” the floater said,
“but it appears to be using wide-spectrum scanning.”

“Can you hide from it? Take us out of the
visible and damp down our emissions?”

“I can try, sir.” The air wavered, this time
not merely in a small area in front of the Trickster, but all
around the platform. Bredon watched with terrified interest.

Then the light faded, though the sun was
still high in the sky; the entire world dimmed as if layers of
smoked glass were being dropped around them in quick succession,
until they were hanging, seemingly motionless, in near-total
darkness. Bredon could see Geste as a faint outline in the gloom,
black on black, so he knew that the darkness was not absolute, but
the floater and the platform beneath his feet were completely
invisible, and blackness surrounded him.

“Take us down to treetop level—lower, if
possible,” Geste ordered. “Then take evasive action and head for
the High Castle as fast as you can.”

“Yes, sir.”

To Bredon it seemed as if nothing changed.
He and Geste stood silent in the darkness for a long moment,
tension sharp in the air between them. Bredon could smell his own
sweat—but not, he noticed, Geste’s. He supposed that Powers did not
do anything as ordinary as perspire.

“I believe we have successfully eluded the
drone,” the floater’s voice said at last.

“Where are we, relative to the Castle?”

“Approaching rapidly from the northeast,
down a narrow canyon; current distance, twenty-five
kilometers.”

“Good—but take us up and loop around. I want
to approach the Castle from the southeast, directly uphill, where
we can get a good view.”

“Yes, sir,” the floater acknowledged.

“When we get within a direct line-of-sight,
if there still isn’t any sign of that attack drone, open a
window.”

“Yes, sir.”

The utter darkness made Bredon uneasy,
particularly since he knew that the sun was still in the sky; some
part of him refused to accept the absence of light. Since the
immediate crisis seemed to be past, he ventured a question, hoping
to reestablish some sort of contact with reality. “What’s going on?
What was that thing?”

“I wish I knew!” Geste answered. “Somebody
was shooting at us, but I don’t know who it was, or why.”

“Was it another Power?”

“I suppose it must be; we’d have been
notified if anyone came in from off-planet.” He paused, struck by a
sudden thought. “At least, we’d have been notified if they didn’t
take out our ship first,” he said. Addressing the floater, he
ordered, “Put a call through to Mother.”

Bredon was startled; surely, Geste had no
mother! He was a Power, eternal and ageless.

“I’ll have to put a narrow-band hole through
the field,” the floater cautioned.

“Do it,” Geste said. “If anything shoots at
us, close it again, but for now I want to talk to Mother.”

“Mother ship acknowledges,” the floater
replied, almost immediately.

Mother
ship
, Bredon asked himself,
what did
that
mean? And where was the hole? He saw no light;
near-total darkness still surrounded them.

“Is there anything out there?” Geste asked.
“I mean, anything artificial in the system that we didn’t put
there?”