Dragons and Destiny (43 page)

The Leftenant
was enjoying himself but Councillor Ian McAllister was not.

His visitor
introduced himself as Vadryzka Dusik of the Fifty-first Ryzck, the
Susa’s Own. He had, he informed Iain, a written missive from Susa
Julia herself.

Dusik took a
large envelope emblazoned with the Vada seal out of his satchel and
handed it over.

“Susa Julia
gave me instructions to give it to you personally. I was expecting
Secretary Duchesneson sir.”

“Elections,”
explained Iain. “I took up the post of Defence Secretary only this
morning.”

“I see sir,”
said Dusik with a worried face, “you have been briefed?”

“All afternoon
long,” Iain answered with a grimace as he broke the seal and
extracted the envelope’s contents. “Find a seat whilst I read
this.”

Dusik took the
indicated chair and watched Iain’s face drain of all colour as he
read the document through, not once but twice. It was as if the man
couldn’t believe what he was reading.

“This is, this
is,” Iain said at last, “this is the Call to Arms.” Iain’s face was
white with shock. “It can’t be, surely it can’t be true. Must be a
joke of some kind.”

Dusik shook his
head. “It is no joke.”

“But …”

“I am
instructed to answer any questions you may have.”

Iain’s brain
was whirring as he pondered the various ramifications, trying to
remember what the department heads had told him about the protocols
in such a situation. With a supreme effort, he gathered his
wits.

“The
Garda?”

“Susyc Julia
and Alyei have already sent a similar letter to the Field Marshall,
to the Admiral and to the OC Militia.”

“But, but,”
Iain’s wits were getting jumbled again.

“In a time of
emergency,” explained a helpful Dusik, “the Susa of the Vada, Julia
and her Lind Alyei, assume the title Susyc and take command of the
combined armies of the north, from the rtathlians, Vadath
and
Argyll. As this is such a time, they have exercised this
right.”

“But what is
the emergency? I haven’t heard anything. What has possessed them to
do such a thing?” Iain was pacing up and down, “what will Anders
say about all this? He’ll not like it you know. He’ll countermand
the orders.”

“Head
Councillor Horatio Anders cannot countermand any orders issued by
the Susyc,” said Dusik, “and if any officer, infantry, cavalry or
naval disobeys he or she will be removed and another set in place.
You’ll find they will not even consider it. She and Alyei outrank
them all, even the Field Marshall.”

“She can’t just
…”

“She can and
has,” Dusik was losing his patience, “and if you’ll sit down and
listen I’ll tell you why. If you want my advice I’d send for
Richard Duchesneson. He’s had five solid years in the job and I
think you’ll need his help before all this is over.”

Iain McAllister
was not a stupid man and saw the sense in this.

“Okay, okay,”
he said, “wait here and I’ll go find someone to go fetch him. You
can tell us both about this great emergency of yours. No point
telling it twice.”

“Thank you
sir,” said Dusik and settled down to wait.

* * * * *

The Ammokko

The solar
system which the giant space-ship was approaching was not a large
one, nor did it have a name, at least not in the minds of the
occupants. The space-ship did have a name, a name beginning to be
voiced aloud by some of the inhabitants of Planet Wolf.

The
Ammokko
was an old space-ship, rebuilt so many times that
her original shape and dimensions were but a memory. The Lai would
not have recognised her but they would have recognised her
occupants.

All those
centuries ago, when the Lai and the Dglai had lived in comparative
harmony on their home planet as the Daiglon the only aspect of
their physiology that differentiated them was their colour.

This had
changed.

Prolonged
exposure to reduced gravity had altered the Dglai physically.

In outer space,
gravity disappears and an astronaut’s body becomes weightless. The
Ammokko
did have an artificial gravitational system but it
was not set at the level that had existed on Diaglon, it was more
like sixty per cent and this could and did fluctuate depending on
how much power the space-ship had in her power kernels at any one
time.

Body functions
are disturbed and altered by the state of microgravity, another
name for the weightlessness that exists in outer space and this has
physical effects on bodies of any species. The Dglai were no
exception.

The Lai on the
other hand had not been travelling through space for so many
generations. They had arrived on the planet not much altered as
when they had set out on their own epic journey. What effect their
journey had had on their bodies had long worn off.

The Dglai’s
musculoskeletal system had deteriorated; their muscles, especially
in the lower body had lost tone and mass. They had become taller
and thinner, their vertebrae had separated, lengthening their
backs.

Of course,
during the generations, the Dglai had landed on other planets to
make repairs and to replenish stocks of food, water and other
minerals but these visits had never been protracted ones and had
therefore not been enough to reverse the changes.

During the epic
journey the Dglai had learned it took time to adjust to each
planet.

The length of
the acclimatisation period depended upon both the gravitational
level their space-ship was operating under at the time of landing
and also the gravity of the planet. If the
Ammokko
was
operating at sixty per cent, the acclimatisation period was shorter
than if she was operating at a lower level.

A body’s brain
receives information through the eyes, muscles and the inner ear.
If gravity is set at less than the optimum then the sensors in the
ears and muscles need time to orient themselves. Time spent
actually standing on a new planet’s surface was therefore kept to a
minimum by the Dglai, especially to begin with. They much preferred
either to remain on their mother ship, the
Ammokko
or to
travel around the planet in the small ships, only descending on to
the planetary surface when necessary.

So as the
Quorko sent back the information stripped from the Nahoko, the
Dglai scanned the data with much interest and not a little
apprehension. It was with relief that their leader learned that the
gravitational level on the planet was 0.982.

This was an
acceptable level.

“Calculate,”
the Leader ordered.

“Twenty four
shelds.”

The Leader
flipped his ears in irritation.

“That is too
long. Increase our gravity levels by seven delds.”

“As you
command.”

The Leader did
not answer, merely bending his head back to look at the screen in
front of him.

These Larg
creatures are so gullible. Do they really believe that they are
going to rule the planet when we are gone?

His long digits
hovered over the keypad then he began to type in instructions to
the Quorko.

* * * * *

The
Guildmaster

“Here’s a bit
that might be of interest,” said Professor Angus, “at least it
appears to be about something I understand.”

“About the
power-core?” asked Annert, raising his head from the print-out in
front of him.

“It concerns
travelling in outer space,” Angus informed him in his usual dry
voice, “and relates to what our ancestors called zero gravity. You
must read this Annert, it’s absolutely fascinating.”

“If it doesn’t
relate to the power-core Angus, put it aside,” said Annert, trying
to be patient. “If you think it might be of use, mark it as a
possible and put it aside for later. We’re looking for mentions of
the power-core.”

“Could be
important,” mused Angus, thinking aloud as usual, much to the
exasperation of Annert and the other two.

It was one of
the traits of the Professor that Annert most disliked, this
tendency to do his thinking out loud. Annert felt it was a
distraction he could well live without.

He laid down
his own study with a sigh.
Better to get it over with, he’ll not
settle until he’s got it off his chest.
“Well?”

Professor Angus
coughed, preparing to enter what Annert called his lecturing
mode.

“It talks about
a phenomena called gravity, whereby a planet, Earth in this case,
pulls mass and weight in, now listen,
‘Gravity is created by the
interaction of two masses’
, I think it is the planet itself and
everything that stands on it,
‘gravity increases as the distance
between the two masses decreases’
.”

“What’s that
got to do with the power-core?” asked Annert in an acidic
voice.

“I’m coming to
that, now, a planet pulls everything towards its centre … that is
gravity. There is a mathematical formula for it, we call it the
pull formula but until now I wasn’t sure of its relevance. Now I
understand.”

“Could you
explain more please, Professor,” asked Jeannie who was listening
with fascinated absorption.

Professor Angus
beamed on her and coughed again.

“You must
remember it surely, however …”

“Get on with it
man,” expostulated Annert.

“We say A=MxP,
they call it
‘W=MxG, where M is mass, G is gravity and W is the
product of the acceleration due to gravity’
. Gravity on the
planet is equal to one. I have always hypothesised that when our
ancestors travelled in outer space they were able to float. Here’s
the proof.”

“So? What’s the
point you’re trying to make?” Annert was losing patience.

“Don’t you see?
In space, in a space-ship, the further it is away from the gravity
of a planet, the less gravity there is. There will be virtually no
gravitational pull.”

“I still don’t
understand,” admitted Annert.

“The power-core
was designed to work in low gravity, zero gravity they call it, or
microgravity.”

Annert was
beginning to understand.

“The power-core
will behave differently on a planet, any planet, than in space,”
Professor Angus was speaking slowly, as if to a particularly trying
and stupid student. Annert was glad he had never been one of his
students.

“I see,” said
Annert, “it might be important, you are quite right Angus though I
don’t see how exactly.”

“The point I’m
trying to get across that the power-core was designed and built for
using in micro gravitational conditions. Perhaps it is because it
is here, on the planet that makes it dangerous.”

“Mark it as
important and lay it aside for now Angus,” repeated Annert.

“You realise,”
said Jhonas, entering the conversation, “it is called a power-core,
not a power
generator
. Does it make the power or is it
merely the battery which stores the power and then distributes it
throughout the space-ship?”

Annert looked
at him.

“That’s a valid
point Jhonas,” he said, “we’ve been assuming that the power-core is
the generator of the power and it might not be. We must keep that
in mind as we continue to wade through this morass of information.
Generator or distributor, I wonder.”

“It had better
be the former,” growled Angus as he laid the sheets pertaining to
microgravity on a clear space on the table, “otherwise what’s the
point of us being here?”

“It might be
both,” suggested Jeannie in a bright voice.

“So it might
be,” agreed Annert, “now may we please get on with this? There is
little time and so much to do.”

* * * * *

Hilla

Leftenant
Villiers, who had taken over at the Academie from Robain Hallam,
knocked on the classroom door and entered. The second year officer
trainees were undergoing a lesson in tactical history. Most of the
class raised their heads from their notes with a measure of
relief.

Captain
Dahlson, whose class this was, was not noted for being interesting.
His voice had little natural inflexion and his students always
found it hard to stay awake as he droned on.

They were glad
of the distraction, anything to bring a little interest into the
monotony about just why Captain Dahlson thought that battalion
would have been better placed there than here during the Battle of
the Alliance.

“Captain
Dahlson, Sir,” greeted the Leftenant. “May I have a word with your
class?”

Captain Dahlson
frowned. He disliked interruptions. This was one of the reasons the
trainees found his classes so tediously boring. He refused to
accept any questions until the end of each lecture, by which time
the class was either half asleep or desperate to escape.

“If you must
Leftenant, but I would much prefer …”

“It is an
urgent matter, from Major Bellahouston.”

“I see.” The
Captain indicated that the Leftenant should speak with a curt nod.
Leftenant Villiers looked around the room. He took a deep breath
and issued his orders.

“Classes are
cancelled for the remainder of the day. You will return to your
quarters. There you will pack your battle kit.”

The Second
Staticum Officer Trainees of the Garda of Argyll looked at each
other.
Battle Kit.
Another drill
. It was not unusual
for drills to be sprung on them without warning. Leftenant Villiers
guessed this.

“This is not a
drill,” he said and a few of the trainees gasped, including Hilla’s
friend Jen.

Tall Senis
Dolvin Annson stood up at attention. “Leftenant Villiers? This is
not a drill?”