Infinite Day (27 page)

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Authors: Chris Walley

Tags: #FICTION / Christian / Futuristic, #FICTION / Fantasy / Contemporary

BOOK: Infinite Day
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“I am glad.”

Delastro stood up and paced to the end of the room in three long strides. “Doctor, let me consider this matter of our troublesome captain. But send me Colonel Larraine.”

Clemant returned to his cabin and locked the door. He felt a terrible premonition that things were heading out of control.

He sent an order to Zak—still in the improvised gym—to clean himself up and go see Delastro. Then, on impulse, he opened his file surveillance program and hunted through the network until he came to the captain's computer. There he looked through the private files until he came to one named “Account of Events.” Captain Huang-Li hadn't even bothered to encrypt it, so he opened it and skimmed through. It was damning, full of praise for D'Avanos and the sentinel and packed with concern about abuses of power by himself and Delastro. Even worse, it was very largely accurate.

What are we going to do about this?

Then, conscious that he needed to watch the meeting between Zak and Delastro, Clemant switched to the views of the prebendant's cabin. He saw that Zak was not yet in the room and Delastro was pacing back and forth with urgent steps as if struggling with something. He was muttering, but the words were inaudible.

There was a knock on the door. Delastro took his seat, adjusted his robe, and issued a cry of “You may enter!”

Zak—inevitably, in uniform—walked in and bowed before Delastro, who raised an arm in response and told him to take a seat.

There were some brief preliminary questions from the prebendant. How was Zak? How was his training going? And in the questions and comments, Clemant heard nuggets of praise for Zak's energy and enthusiasm. He saw, too, in the way the conversation went, how the prebendant presented himself as a man concerned for others; a man who could be relied on; a man whose praise was worth seeking. And although the camera angle was not ideal, he could also see that Zak was warming to Delastro's approaches. Clemant felt envious of the prebendant's skill, but the question that came to him was simple:
Zak is being groomed, but for what purpose?

Without warning, the conversation changed gear. “Now, Colonel, I have been doing a great deal of thinking. I find Below-Space gives a strange, sharp clarity to my reasoning. And as a result, I have some matters I wish to put to you. As you know, we have no knowledge of what, if any, armed forces the Assembly may have. If they received Professor Habbentz's message, they may have already mobilized some units. But if they didn't get the message, there will effectively be nothing. I am concerned about this.”

“Sir, as a soldier, those issues are my concern too.”

“Of course. Now, I am no military man—that is why I seek your advice—but in either case, it seems that it may be wise for the Assembly to create an elite unit of soldiers.”

Delastro rose from his chair and began stalking the room, but Clemant noticed that his eyes never left Zak's face. “A specialized group. Made up of only the very best. Of those warriors who are dedicated to all the Assembly stands for.”

The voice was rich and heroic.
This is prime Delastro preaching.
“Men whose lives are driven by purity, purpose, and faithfulness. Men who would lift up our people and cast down the enemy. Men whose very names would spread terror amongst our foes. Destroy them utterly. In short, heroes, Colonel.
Heroes!
” He paused. “What do you think?”

Clemant felt irritated.
That sort of thing ought to be discussed with me!

A tremor of excitement ran through Zak's voice. “Sir, I have been dreaming of just this! An elite fighting force.”

Delastro gave a little clap of his hands. “As I suspected, Colonel, you and I are alike! Now, I was thinking that—should there be approval for such a dedicated group, of course—
you
might head it.”

Zak gasped. “Sir, that is a truly awesome honor. I would be delighted to serve the Assembly in that way.”

“I was considering a name for these men. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Marines, sir?”

There was a shake of the head. “Too unspiritual.”

“The Elite?”

Delastro, still pacing around, gave another shake of the head. “Too obvious.”

“How about the Guardians . . . the Guardians of the Assembly?”

Delastro stopped dead. “Close, Colonel, but it makes them sound like the satellites. Guardians . . .
Guards
. . .” He raised a hand. “The Guards of the Assembly? No, the
Guards of the Lord
! You are a genius, Colonel. A fine name.”

“Yes. I agree, sir. It has a good sound to it.”

“I will work on the details,” Delastro said; he paused, and then began talking in a softer tone. “In the meantime, don't mention it to anyone. Not even Dr. Clemant. But, Colonel, there are other matters. I have always admired your loyalty to the Assembly. You value the Assembly greatly, don't you?”

“Sir, it is the Lord's Assembly.”

“Indeed. And if it were to be threatened?”

“Then I would seek to save it.”

“Exactly. My sentiments entirely. What would you do to save the Assembly, Colonel?”

“Anything, sir. It's worth anything. You know that.”

“Anything? I agree.” Clemant watched the prebendant as he appeared to weigh up something. “Colonel, I have some disturbing news for you. These are dark days.” Delastro continued to walk around Zak with slow, long-limbed paces. “Very dark days. We face a terrifying enemy. You have seen something of that, haven't you?”

“Yes, sir. Tezekal, sir.”

“Yes, Tezekal. But the problem is, Colonel, that enemies are very close now.” Distress oozed out of Delastro's voice. “We have enemies within us.”

“You mean . . . like D'Avanos, sir?”

“Just like him.”

“But I had thought we had left our enemies behind on Farholme.”

“Oh, Colonel, I am an expert on sin, and trust me, it's not that easy. Sin is contagious. It's like a virus. That's why purity is vital.” He drew himself up to his full height. “No, I'm very afraid that our own captain is a problem.”

“I'm not surprised, sir.”

Clemant was aware of the heavy thud-thud of his heart. What is this dreadful man up to? “Well spotted. She's very troublesome. She plans to make a protest about us at Bannermene. You can imagine the sort of thing—that we are downplaying the role of the forester and his dark henchman.”

“That's not good, sir. That could be . . . well, awkward.”

“How I agree! But, Colonel, I need to clear something up. She seems to hold something against you. Had you met her before you boarded the ship?”

“Not as I recall, sir.”

“She seems to know all about you. Apparently, she wants to make a fuss about that incident at Tezekal. Your disciplining—what were the names?—ah yes, Durrance . . . and Latrati.” He leaned forward. “I see from your face that this is not a matter you want to have raised.”

“Sir, you know that was a tough situation. The men were in danger of panicking. The line could have collapsed.”

“‘Desperate times call forth desperate measures,' as the Word says.”

Where?
thought Clemant, both engrossed and appalled by Delastro's manipulation of Zak.
And, more importantly,
where is he taking all this?

“Indeed, sir.”

“I'm sorry to be the bearer of such bad news. I'm sure you would be acquitted at the court-martial.”

“The court-martial!” Zak's face was pale and staring.
You devious monster, Delastro! Build up his military career and then threaten it!

“But it may not come to that. We have two weeks for her to come round to our way of thinking. To cease being an enemy of the Assembly.”

“I see, sir.”

“But this
is
serious. I need you free to command the Guards of the Lord, and Gerry must have her weapon tested, and all our data has to be given to the Assembly. And the captain is in danger of stopping all that. That would be the work of an enemy. Wouldn't it?”

“Yes, sir.”

A deep, troubling feeling began to grow in Clemant's mind. This was leading somewhere—to a destination so dark and unprecedented that he could not bring himself to imagine it.

“To set your face against the Lord's Assembly would be very dangerous, wouldn't it?”

“How exactly, sir?”

“You might forfeit your soul. An eternal fate. A fate truly worse than death.” The words, heavy with judgment, seemed to hang in the air like a black thundercloud.

“A terrible thought, sir.”

“Oh yes, terrible beyond words. You see, Colonel, when I think of the harm that the captain might do to the Assembly, to you, and to herself, then I am forced to one conclusion.”

“We ought to pray she repents?”

Clemant thought he glimpsed a flash of irritation in the prebendant's eyes.

“Of course.” Delastro frowned and shook his head. “But I'm terribly afraid, Colonel, it may be necessary to ensure that if she doesn't repent, the captain leaves this ship . . . well,
horizontally
rather than vertically.”

In an instant, it all made terrible, awesome sense to Clemant.
“No!”
he cried aloud as he lurched to his feet.

He caught a glimpse of Zak's face again and saw it bore an open-mouthed look of horror. “You mean . . . sir, you want to—”

Delastro interrupted him with a wave of the hand. “No need to name the word, Colonel. It would be for everyone's good. Even for her.”

“Sir, I'm confused. . . .”

The prebendant gave a sad smile. “This is a new and strange ship, Colonel. It would be tragic, but not extraordinary, if when we arrived in orbit at Bannermene, the captain—assuming, of course, that she remains unrepentant—were to have an accident. An unshielded high-voltage cable, a malfunctioning door, a weapon accidentally discharged . . . Life can be ended so easily.”

I have to intervene!
But as the thought came to Clemant, he realized it was not that easy.

“Sir, do I understand that you want me to—?”

“No!” Delastro paused, and then the voice began again in a much smoother tone. “At the moment, I simply want you to research something, Colonel. Some ‘accident' that will do the trick and leave no complications. Remember, it's for her good, too.”

“But it would be a sin.”

Delastro moved closer now. “A
sin
? Would it? Trust me, Colonel. Theology is
my
expertise. You'd kill an enemy on the battlefield and be counted a hero. How does this differ, except that it must be a private matter?”

Zak made no answer.

“By this you will show me what the Guards of the Lord are made of.”

“Sir, I don't like this. I really don't.”

“And neither do I. And you may not need to do it. But you must prepare for it.”

“What does Dr. Clemant say?”

A good question to which you will shortly find out the answer.

“With that fine logical brain of his, what do you think he would say? ‘Necessity' is what he would say. But don't talk to him about it. You take orders from me on this. Purity and obedience! Now, Colonel, go about your work; make the preparations.”

“Yes . . . yes, sir.”

“You are dismissed.”

As Zak left, Clemant switched the screen off and walked to the door. His hands were shaking.
With fear or rage?
It is irrelevant; Delastro must be stopped.
He would see Zak and cancel that order and then deal with the prebendant.

Yet as he grabbed the door grip, he suddenly stopped. Doubt filled his mind.

Fool! Analyze the situation.

He sat down on the edge of his bed. Two voices seemed to speak in his mind.
This is murder; I must act
. But the other was just as insistent.
Delastro was right. Captain Huang-Li is putting everything in jeopardy.

Then a trickle of disquieting thoughts came to him.
How can I intervene? To reveal that I know what has been said would be to reveal I am . . . a what?
Communal had no words for it; he had to use older languages.
A
snooper
, a
voyeur?

He put his head in his hands as he realized he could do nothing.
Delastro and I are so interlinked that if he falls, I fall too. He was a man of my choosing; he and I collaborated to try to neutralize D'Avanos; he and I seized this ship together
.

As he considered the subject further, matters became plain.
Perhaps Delastro is right and there is a clarity in Below-Space. But if we are to save the Assembly, then we must protect our mission. The documents on this ship imply there are thousands of vessels the size of the
Triumph of Sarata
being readied to attack the Assembly. Any hope against such a desperate threat must come from us. Desperate times do indeed require desperate measures.

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