The Adversary - 4 (25 page)

"Don't worry," the former Battlemaster reassured Elizabeth.

"We'll be at the cave ahead of the rain."

"It will mean an end to this awful heat wave, at any rate," she said.

"Has it seriously distressed you?" Dionket asked in surprise.

"I found it pleasant myself. Reminiscent of Duat. We could have used a bit more humidity, though, to make it genuinely homelike."

"You First Comers!" Creyn said, amused. "Nostalgic for the ancestral hellhole."

"Nonsense, lad," said Minanonn. "Duat was much more comfortable than this planet. A soft haze to temper the sun's glare, never these prolonged droughts for part of the year and half drowning the rest. On Duat, the rains came fairly uniformly all year round. And the temperature was rarely low enough to chill, even at aphelion."

"He speaks of the Tanu motherlands, of course," Dionket explained. "We lived in the equatorial regions and the Firvulag at the poles, where the really high mountains were. Ghastly country, that of the Foe. Constant winter."

"No changing seasons at all?" Elizabeth asked.

"None to speak of," said the Lord Healer. "Our planetary axis had a minimal tilt."

"A stiff-necked world," Creyn observed, "like the peoples it bred. Fortunately, the spawn of Duat's daughter-planets proved more flexible. It was they who engendered the peaceful galactic federation that rejected Duat's attempt-our attempt-to reintroduce the ancient battle-religion."

"Brede told me something of your history," Elizabeth said.

Her gaze was fixed on the looming line of thunderheads. "At the time of your exile, were the Duat colonies the only planets in your galaxy that had an interstellar socioeconomy?"

"The only planets," Dionket said, "but not the only people.

There were the Ships."

"The Ships." Elizabeth's voice was tinged with wonder. "They seem incredible, even though I have Brede's glass model. How could highly intelligent life-forms evolve in a void?"

"There is no void," said the Lord Healer. "The space between the stars is pervaded by matter and energy. All of the organic molecules necessary for the generation of life are present in the clouds of dust that drift through the galaxies. This one, as well as the star-whirl of Duat that is its sister."

Elizabeth was silent. The surrounding air had attained a preternatural clarity. Even without exerting her farsensing eye, she seemed able to detect each separate leaf on the jungle trees, each tuft of dry grass between the ruts of the dusty road, each pebble and grasshopper and rock-rose of the arid verge. She finally said, "We had seven hundred and eighty-four human planets in our Milieu, including Old Earth. How many worlds were daughter-colonies of Duat at the time of your exile?"

"More than eleven thousand four hundred," Dionket replied.

"Even with the attrition from the Galactic Civil War, the total population approached one hundred fifteen billion."

"Half that of our Milieu," Elizabeth mused, "and yet more than adequate for coadunation of the Galactic Mind, if you had not followed the dead end of the golden torcs."

"So you say."

Minanonn addressed Elizabeth with a certain bluff impatience. "My mind is a simple one, suited to porter duties and other tasks requiring more brawn than subtlety. Nevertheless, I hope that someday you will explain to me exactly what this 'coadunation' might be-and why we Tanu are so deprived not to have it! In our Peace Faction, we enjoy a fellowship that is both consoling and stimulating. Can your Unity be so much greater?"

"Perhaps you'll find out for yourselves," Elizabeth said faintly. An image formed in her mind that made the three exotic men gasp.

"A time-gate to the Milieu?"

Dionket's question was incredulous.

"And we might be permitted to pass through?" cried Minanonn.

Elizabeth said, "If the device can be built-and operated without danger to the Milieu itself-then all persons of goodwill in the Many-Coloured Land will have the option of passing through. You know how sceptical I have been about Brede's calling me the 'most important woman in the world.' Well ... lately I've wondered whether she might have seen me in the role of time-gate shepherdess. Certainly it would make more sense than my merely serving as dirigent to a continent full of barbarian hordes and exiled Milieu malcontents."

"You would go back?" Creyn asked. "Leading us?"

"If it seems right that I should." But the old uncertainty was plain beneath the ambiguity.

"How will you know?"

Creyn asked.

She said, "It's premature to think too deeply about it now.

Too many things could go wrong. The gate may never reopen-we may find ourselves in the Nightfall War at last!-if we can't help Aiken regain his mental strength."

Minanonn said, "We approach the caravan camp. Render us invisible to casual surveillance, Lord Healer."

"It is done," said Dionket.

They flew over an area of prairie between two streams. Scattered about were open groves of silverleaf poplar and ash. The all-terrain vehicles of the North Americans were parked in a tidy circle, surrounded by a more casual collection of Tanu pavilions and tethered chalikos.

"I see Bleyn's forces have arrived," Minanonn remarked. He asked Elizabeth, "Can you farsense the King's presence below?"

She exerted her metafaculty. "He's safely gone. Would you like a closeup view of the newcomers?"

When the three assented she showed them a group gathered beneath a large dining pavilion. Supper was being served. Two long tables were separated from the others by a distinct psychic veil. At the head of one sat a burly young man in his late twenties who scowled as he listened to a slighter, foxy-faced companion. "Hagen Remillard," Elizabeth noted. "Except for the dark blond hair and a somewhat shorter stature, he bears a rather strong physical resemblance to his father. The mental resemblance is not so strong." She showed them Cloud, who headed the second table, then panned the other twenty-seven adults and the five little children.

"All of them are so young," Creyn said. "Are their minds exceptional?"

Elizabeth said, "I know very little about them as yet, except for what Aiken has told me about the Remillards. As to their metafaculties-they're all fully operant, but only imperfectly trained by their parents and the other ex-Rebels. Considering their heritage, they probably represent a wide spectrum of talent and strength. I wouldn't be surprised if the majority were quite formidable. Let's not forget that they helped Felice to blast open Gibraltar."

"And drown thousands of people," Minanonn added tonelessly.

The exotics studied the innocent-appearing diners. A young black man at Cloud's table was regaling his companions with a funny story. Parents wiped the messy chins of children and admonished breaches of etiquette. A plumpish brunette was teased by her tablemates for taking two pieces of Calamosk torte.

Dionket said, "And the Unity of your Milieu is a goal so precious to them, that even such a terrible means seemed justified?"

"Their nurture," Elizabeth said, "can hardly have been ideal, from an ethical standpoint."

"If we are barbarians," Minanonn murmured, "what are they?"

"Children," Elizabeth replied. "Adult children."

"And your Milieu," Dionket said. "Would it welcome these youthful mass murderers?"

"It will accept any mind prepared to seek maturity-which is always a very painful process with ample opportunity for atonement. And the Milieu will know who strives sincerely and who does not. There is no deceiving the Unity ... not anymore."

The campsite was falling behind them. They flew now over foothills thickly clad with climax forest. To the west, the sky had become wholly dark except for the lightning. Thunder had swelled from a growl to a full tympanic rumble punctuated with heavier booming peals. Irregular gusts of wind rippled the treetops.

Minanonn pointed ahead and magnified the view for the others. "The cave lies there, on the side of that hill. The entrance is well concealed."

They descended into the wildly swaying jungle and landed on a slope where a rill flowed over mossy rocks and tangled lianas hung from huge sweetgum trees. The cleft in the rock was unobtrusive. As they came to it on foot, they saw that the web of a handsome black-and-yellow spider stretched across the cave entrance like some gossamer gate. The Heretic lifted the creature with his PK and sent it scurrying into the undergrowth.

"The royal sentinel," he suggested with a wintry smile. "And you will note that we have arrived before the rain."

They stepped into what seemed to be a blind-ended chamber, clogged with rubble and dried leaves. But Minanonn led them confidently into it, and at the rear they turned sharply into darkness. Their guide raised two fingers and kindled a steady yellow flame, lighting the way into a tortuous passage so low and narrow that the Tanu men had to move at an awkward crouch. As they descended, the tunnel widened and its walls glistened with seepage. The air washed back and forth in sinister rhythm and carried a metallic-oniony odour.

Finally they reached a cul-de-sac where the dark rock was richly veined with red and orange minerals. Set into the wall was a door of rotting wood. Faded Firvulag ideographs were barely visible on a tarnished plaque mounted low, where gnomish eyes might have conveniently read it.

Minanonn had to stoop. "Quicksilver Cave," he translated.

"This is the place." He cocked his massive head alertly.

"Listen!"

They strained their metafaculties, but it seemed that a psychic void lay behind the crumbling planks. The only audible sounds were water dripping and stones crunching underfoot.

Minanonn put his hand to the latch and slowly extinguished his metapsychic torch. A flickering illumination shone through cracks in the door.

"Keep up your guard, Coercive Brother," Dionket cautioned.

The door swung wide without a sound. They looked down a shallow flight of steps into a pillared chamber hewn in living rock. At its centre was a sunken area that seemed to be floored with a mirror at least five metres square. Light streamed obliquely out of an alcove on the right, throwing a shadow onto an otherwise featureless grey wall.

The shadow of a monster.

It swayed back and forth so that its dimensions were constantly changing and its true size was impossible to estimate.

The shadow was enormous. The body was humanoid but grotesquely thick, with a bloated belly, protruding buttocks, and incongruously slender legs. It had immense breasts with pointed nipples, which it seemed to be supporting with pipestem arms.

From the broad shoulders sprang three elongate necks that intertwined like the bodies of pythons. The heads were less easily distinguished. One seemed to be birdlike, a second leonine, and the third reptilian, with multiple fangs and a forked tongue.

"Great Goddess!" Creyn whispered. "What can it be? It's not a Firvulag or a Howler throwing that shadow. We'd sense their aura. What ... what's it doing?

Tana-is it growing some monstrous tail?"

"No," said Dionket. "It's not a tail."

There was a sound, a soft animal cry from three disparate throats, forced out in a series of grunts timed to the writhing of the creature's body. The sound swelled in volume as the contortions became more and more frenzied. Something columnar thrust from the lower torso, stiff as a tree trunk and nearly three times the breadth of the legs. The creature staggered, overbalanced by the weight, and the thing grew to shoulder height and above, throbbing, while the spidery hands tried in vain to support it and the spine arched and the three heads twisted and howled a demonic trio. The knees collapsed and the shadow-body leaned backward over its heels, still pumping its hips. The breasts jutted toward the chamber ceiling, as did the overwhelming member, which seemed to have grown longer than all the rest of the body. The animal cries were deafening as the shadow organs attained their culmination, and then the picture was obliterated in a triple gush of blazing white light. A dwindling three-note moan echoed from pillar to pillar. The shadow had vanished. The chamber was dark except for a fitful golden glow emanating from the general direction of the original bright light.

"A chimaera," said Elizabeth softly. "Come." And she hurried down the steps.

Beware! cried Minanonn's mind, and he flung a mental shield ahead of her. But she turned back and shook her head. The giant coercer let his barrier fall. He and his fellows drew close to form a protective cordon about Elizabeth as she went quickly across the chamber, past the big sunken mirror, and into the alcove on the right. There was complete silence except for their footsteps. The aether was empty.

They entered the subsidiary chamber and found a meta-activated jewel-lantern, dim as a dying ember, standing on the floor.

Lying on his face in front of it was Aiken Drum. His body was normal and so was his face, which was turned toward them. His eyes were open and he breathed through slightly open lips.

He had been wearing his golden storm-suit. The strong leather was split in every seam and lay in rags on his pallid skin.

Elizabeth knelt beside him, lifted the scraps of his crested hood away, and touched his cheek. The faintest of smiles appeared.

"You did come," he said.

"Now it's going to be all right."

Aiken dreamed.

He stood on the mirror, which reached from horizon to horizon, and above him was a brilliant night sky splashed with the Sagittarius Arm of the Milky Way, as seen from his former home planet of Dalriada. Looking down, he saw reflected stars, his own naked body and wondering face, and peering over his shouldersWith a startled exclamation he looked up and behind him.

Nothing. Nobody. But when he looked down again the two of them were back, austere and faintly disapproving in their expressions.

A man and a woman he had never seen before. He darkhaired, with snapping black eyes, a prominent nose, and a mouth compressed to a tight line. She with dark red frizzy hair, a high brow, and tiny regular features too stern to be beautiful.

"Where have you been?" he scolded them. They exchanged glances, looked back at him with dubious, fractional smiles, then vanished. Bitter reproach welled up in him. He heard some small creature squalling, and the sing-song mockery of children, and his own powerful adult voice shouting vicious obscenities.