Empyrion II: The Siege of Dome (61 page)

Treet lifted a shoulder ambivalently. “Who knows what they did to him? I don't know if I could have lasted much longer.”

“But that's just it. You stuck it out. You had the will to survive. You endured. Crocker was weak; he gave in.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I know. When Crocker came to us, we offered him the chance to recover. We gave him the opportunity to begin helping himself. All he had to do was say yes. Instead, he chose to run away again rather than endure the hard work of getting better.”

Treet nodded silently. “Still,” he said after a moment, “I can't blame him for what happened. It wasn't his fault. To tell you the truth, I probably wouldn't be here now, but ... I know this is going to sound crazy, but when I was in the tank I tried to contact you and got something else instead.”

Yarden's glance quickened. “What was it, Orion?”

Treet looked into his cup as if he might find the answer written there. “The Comforter,” he said. “The Infinite. At least that's the only explanation I have.” He bent his head and silence fell between them. When he spoke again, his eyes were focused far away. “After it was over, I carried Calin's body back to Dome and buried her outside.”

“I'd like to see her grave. Would you show me?” .

“Sure. She deserves a headstone or marker of some kind. I've been thinking of fixing something up when things calm down around here.”

The
next morning Treet led Yarden to Calin's grave, and they knelt together while Yarden paid her final respects. Treet placed a simple stone marker at the head of the grave and stepped back. “That'll do until I can find something better,” he said, then looked at Yarden. “You're going to be an artist; maybe you could make something. I think sunstone would be nice.”

“You're right; sunstone would be perfect. I'll do it.”

They turned away from the gravesite and began walking around the perimeter of Dome. The day was bright, as always, the breeze fresh, the air full of the sounds of industry as the clean-up continued full swing.

“Figured out what you're going to do, Orion?” Yarden asked after they'd walked a while.

“I've thought about it some. I guess I'd like to do what I came here to do—write Empyrion's history.”

His answer brought a sharp reply. “You can't think you still have any obligation to Cynetics? Not after all that's happened. They used you, used us all.”

“Easy, Yarden,” Treet soothed. “No, it's not for Cynetics. It's for ... well, for everyone really, but for the Fieri maybe most of all. The Preceptor gave me a note when I left Fierra. She reminded me that the Fieri are a people without a past, and she said, 'I ask you to remember for us who we were ...' I guess I'd like to give them back their past.” He shrugged, “Beyond that, few historians ever have the chance to view firsthand the kind of upheaval I've seen; fewer still live through it. Witnessing the birth of a new civilization is an opportunity I'd never get at home.”

“Speaking of which, do you think we'll ever go home again?”

“Not much chance. Pizzle and I have talked about it. He points out that even if Cynetics sent a rescue ship—which in itself is an astronomical longshot—the chances are at least five hundred quadrillion to one that it would reach us. It could end up anywhere in Empyrion's time spectrum—like we did.”

“Oh, well. I won't miss not going back. I don't think I would even if I had the chance. I'm happy here, and there's a whole world of things to learn and do. It's the adventure of a lifetime, and I plan to take a lifetime to enjoy it.”

“You sound like Pizzle,” Treet said. He looked at Yarden and felt her pulling away from him. Nowhere in anything she'd said so far was there a hint that she was considering a future with him. He stopped walking, and turned to her. “Last night you spoke about having to make some hard decisions. Was I one of your hard decisions?” he asked. There—now it was out it the open.

She dropped her head. “The hardest of all.”

“Yarden—” He stepped toward her. “You don't have to—”

“It's no good, Treet. We don't love each other, not really. If you think about it, you'll see I'm right.”

A bewildered expression worked its way across his face. “What was that we felt before? If it wasn't love, it sure fooled me.”

“We'd just survived a terrible ordeal and were grateful to be alive—an absolutely normal response under the circumstances. We were in love with life, Orion, not each other.”

“I love you, Yarden,” he said.

“I love you, too. I hope we'll always be the very best of friends.”

“It's cruel to tell a guy in love that you want to be his friend.”

“I'm sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”

Treet stared at Yarden—she was so beautiful, so alive. It hurt to end it like this. She stepped close and put her lips to his cheek. “For friendship?” he asked.

“For friendship.”

They walked some more and rounded a pile of debris to see what looked like a sizable refugee camp spread out on the hillside. “What is that?” asked Yarden. “Where'd they come from?”

“You haven't met the Dhogs? Well, you're in for a rare treat, because here comes Giloon Bogney—top Dhog himself.”

Yarden stared as a grotesque little man dressed in the filthiest, most ragged clothes she had ever seen came waddling toward them. His beard was plastered to his grimy face, and a livid scar divided his forehead, warping his countenance and twisting one eye upward so that he seemed to be appraising the weather. He waved a bhuj before them and smiled broadly.

Yarden cringed at the sight. A wafting breeze carried his aroma to her, and she rocked backward.

“Steady,” whispered Treet. To Bogney he said, “Greetings, Bogney. I see you managed to survive.”

Irony was lost on the Dhog leader. “You no looking much dead yourself, Fieri man. Giloon be saying good-bye here now. Dhogs being gone to Fierra soon, very soon.”

“You'll love it there, I know. Good luck.”

Bogney leaned forward on his bhuj in a confiding way. “We no more making big stinking noises since you leaving us lonely. Giloon knowing you bring air machines to take us, so we still being big friends.”

He scuttled off then, leaving Yarden agape.

“A friend for life.” Treet turned to Yarden. “Well, what do you think? Will Fierra ever be the same?”

“The Fieri may have survived the atom bomb, but I'm not sure they're ready for the Dhogs.”

In due time Dome
became Sildarin, after the nearby river, and with the steadfast help of the Fieri, sweeping changes were made. The Hages were disbanded and a new economic and social structure introduced. The Fieri opened schools and began teaching the people. The temples were closed and the priesthood defrocked. Worship of the god of Old Dome, Trabant Animus, lingered on surreptitiously for a time among the older Hagemen, but most people turned gratefully to the Infinite Father of the Fieri.

Others, however, could not accept the new era. Mrukk was found dead in his cell, a victim of suffocation, having stuffed the better part of his own yos down his throat. Most of the imprisoned Invisibles, after the example of their leader, committed suicide rather than face the justice of the new order—a pathetic and wholly unnecessary exercise since the Fieri had no thoughts of revenge. Diltz, having lost the only thing he cared about: power, lost the will to live and simply wasted away.

Tvrdy became the first Governor of Sildarin. He was installed with due ceremony by the Mentors, and immediately began working to effect the reforms he had so long envisioned for his people. Cejka took his place as Secretary-General of the new government and served with great distinction. Kopetch was appointed First Secretary and was placed in charge of redesigning and rebuilding the new city-state.

Ernina undertook the study of Fierran medicine, eventually returning to Sildarin to establish a training hospital of her own. As a result of the dramatic upswing in the Sildarinian birthrate following the collapse of Dome,
Ernina
became a favorite name for little girls whose mothers came under the care of the wise and kindly physician.

Talus established an official liaison program, a sort of Fieri embassy, for the ongoing betterment of relations between the Fieri and the Sildarins. Mathiax took on the task of overseeing the development of the new school system, which led to his becoming an extremely popular holovision personality by way of his educational programs. One of the first new projects was an airfield for the balons carrying materials and equipment from Fierra to aid the reconstruction; hence Bohm became Director of Transportation and Trade.

After the prescribed waiting period, Pizzle and Starla were married in the finest Fieri style. Pizzle grew two inches and lost most of his pudginess. Starla was credited with the remarkable accomplishment of taming his obnoxious nature, and he eventually developed into a gentle, loving, and strikingly thoughtful spouse. He also gave Empyrion its first publishing concern: a press devoted to preserving in writing all the Fieri classics of wisdom, learning, and storytelling—and also, incidentally, a few science fiction and fantasy creations of his own.

Yarden returned to Fierra as planned and applied herself to the study of art, eventually becoming a well-respected artist for her wonderfully atmospheric and intuitive paintings. She developed a unique style, which led to her taking on students of her own who wanted to learn her techniques. In Anthon, Yarden found a soulmate, and the two became inseparable friends.

The first volume of Treet's masterwork,
Darkness and the Light: The History of Empyrion,
was published by Pizzle's Empyrion Press, and was greeted with great acclaim. Work on the second volume was delayed, however, for a lengthy honeymoon cruise which Treet and Jaire undertook following an ardent, if leisurely courtship. The two divided their time between Fierra and Sildarin, and did their level best to keep Mathiax and his school system busy teaching successive editions of little Treets.

On numerous occasions Treet went to the Blue Forest to look for Crocker. He never found the pilot, but left preserved food, clothing, and simple tools and implements behind. These items were always gone when he returned the following year, and a crude present—a spear or a pair of sandals made of bark—was left in their place. In time, Treet accepted that this was how Crocker wanted it, and the yearly pilgrimage became less a manhunt than a mission of mercy for a fallen friend.

Giloon Bogney and the Dhogs found in Fierra everything they had ever imagined paradise to be. Cleaned up and fed regularly, they quickly acquired the rudiments of civilization. From the first they were fascinated by sunstone, and were delighted to learn that it came from far-off mountains. Bogney was taken to a quarry there, and upon viewing the work declared that henceforth the Dhogs would learn to work the marvelous stone and become quarriers and builders. Although they loved Fierra dearly, the Dhogs loved the Light Mountains more, and chose a place for themselves in the Star Cliffs region where with the patient expertise of the Fieri they would eventually build a shining city of their own overlooking the unlimited expanse of the jade green ocean.

Table of Contents

Cover

Copyright Page

Other Books

Title Page

Forward to the 2011 electronic edition

Epigraph

The Siege of Dome

PROLOGUE

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY-ONE

THIRTY-TWO

THIRTY-THREE

THIRTY-FOUR

THIRTY-FIVE

THIRTY-SIX

THIRTY-SEVEN