The Parafaith War (57 page)

Trystin had caught the surprise in the voice. Why the surprise? Had translation error been eliminated? That was certainly possible. And Chevel Alpha? What had happened at Beta?

He checked the EDI again. The ships in Chevel system were definitely Coalition ships, but there were no traces where Beta had been. None. A Revenant attack?

Finally, Chevel Alpha loomed up even in the short-range screens.

“Chevel Control, this is Holy Roller one, ready to commence approach.”

“Holy Roller one, you are cleared to epsilon one. Epsilon one.” “Stet. Commencing approach to epsilon one this time.”

The new/improved implant made the approach like glass, and Trystin slid the Paquawrat into the lock with barely a measurable impact.

He applied the magnetic holdtights, and pulsed control. “Holy Roller locked at epsilon one. Shutting down this time.”

“Cleared to shutdown … smooth approach.” “Thank you.”

Trystin unstrapped, checked through the ship, and then triggered the lock.

A short black-haired major waited at the lock, with two armed guards behind him. “Ser!” The major snapped a salute at Trystin. Trystin, puzzled as he was, returned it, even though he wasn’t in uniform, just a shipsuit. He realized he could sense the entire station’s net, even read the protocols behind the net. At that he frowned. He didn’t recall that kind of clarity before. What else had the Farhkans done to him?

As they cleared the lock tube and entered the main corridor, Trystin tried not to gape. Behind the roped-off area stood at least two dozen service personnel, and Trystin could hear the murmurs without even raising his sensitivity.

“… tall bastard … not in uniform …” “… fifteen years they say … big hero before that …” “… know who he was?” “Commander wouldn’t say …” The guards glanced at the small crowd, then at Trystin, but the major kept walking, leading Trystin to a private lift shaft. What had they let out about him? A big hero?

“All the way to the top, ser.” The major stepped into the polarized-gravity shaft. Trystin swung on and off after the major. After exiting the shaft, they walked another thirty meters to a heavy door with the words printed in gold beside it-Station Commander. “Go on in, ser. You’re expected.” The two guards took up positions flanking the door. “Thank you. Major,” Trystin said.

“Yes, ser.”

With a look at the door, Trystin slowly touched it and entered.

Standing by the console was a trim commander with dark hair lightly streaked with gray and a young face. “You’re God, you know? Or the closest thing to Him.”

“God? All I was trying to do was shake some sense into them.” Trystin smiled as he studied the trim and still athletic-looking woman. The name on the uniform confirmed what he’d hoped, almost expected. She’d anticipated everything. He wanted to grin, to hug her, but fear and formality held him. Too many years lay between them, and he didn’t know if she felt the same way he did, or if she’d found someone else. Fifteen years was a long time for love barely expressed. “God? From a faked death?”

“You underestimated the power of religion. You became the Prophet returned.” Ulteena Freyer laughed. “Did you really think they’d give up their faith? Rather than give up their faith, they made your mission part of it-a very important part.” She smiled warmly at him. “Please take a seat.”

“I was trying to foment a little dissension.” He paused. “No, that’s too flippant. How about trying to make the system less warlike-injecting a little love?” He snorted. “Through violence, of course, like all religious reformers.” He wondered how much Ulteena knew, and how much he should reveal.

“Dissension? They’re more unified than ever, these days.” She paused. “You did bring more love,’ as you put it, into their culture, and they are, thanks also to you, more peaceful.”

“Me?” Trystin shook his head and sat down beside the low table on which rested a tray containing tea and breads. “That’s hard to believe.” He moistened his lips. Ghere had said he had done well, but he hadn’t wanted to believe the alien. Was that because he couldn’t believe anything good could come from a dressed-up assassination? His eyes crossed to Ulteena. She didn’t look fifteen years older-a few perhaps, but not fifteen.

“You’d better get used to it. You’re part of history now.” Part of history? He looked at the worn carpet on the station floor and then back at Ulteena. Competent as she appeared, he could sense a vulnerability. Strange that he’d never seen it before. “I’m glad to see you survived the Mishima. Very glad,” he added, afraid to say more.

“So am I. I’m also glad you didn’t start in on the commander business, especially since commanders take second seat to prophets these days. Anyway, you’re a full commander too, even if you didn’t know it.” “A recent promotion?” “Hardly. Not too recent.” “Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Ulteena Freyer shook her head. “We need to get the formalities out of the way. You tell me what you did and why, first, before … Please do …” She gestured to the tray. “Feel free to have some. Oh …” She rattled off a code. Trystin smiled. “So you’re my debriefing officer?” “They wanted you to be comfortable, and I’m about the only one left that you knew. That may be why they kept me around. Please have some tea.” She settled into the seat across the low table from him.

The only one? Trystin felt very alone, and his eyes rested on Ulteena for a long moment before he spoke. “Thank you. I will.” He took a deep breath. “It sounds simple, but it wasn’t. I just asked one question-what earthly good a plain assassination of an admiral and archbishop would do. I couldn’t see that it would do anything. I also didn’t see that returning without doing something would be terribly good for my health, especially with my heritage.” Ulteena nodded.

“So …” Trystin talked for a good ten minutes. He attributed his success in “partially” subverting the Temple system to training from his father, trying to avoid blatant lies. He only mentioned the Farhkans as his medical saviors, doubting that the all-too-instinctive human revulsion for the immortals had subsided much in so comparatively few years. “In the end, they patched me up and sent me packing. I never saw more than one room and a long corridor, and a shower. I didn’t even know the exact amount of the translation error until I reached Chevel.” He spread his hands. “Now … what happened?”

“We don’t know all of it. Of course, we found out about the business in the Temple, but that wasn’t all that hard to find out given your growing importance as a key Revenant religious figure. Then came all the rewriting of Scripture, very extensive, I might add, and we managed to get bootleg holos of you. It took more snooping-years really-to discover that your ship did manage to reach translation, because that was something someone in the rev security operation wanted to keep very quiet… .”

Orr, thought Trystin. He wanted me to be the Prophet. The crazy Revenant actually wanted that.

“… we thought you might be coming back, and we alerted the Farhkans, but no one was certain until the Farhkans sent a courier more than a year ago indicating that you had been injured and required extensive medical ‘ care. That was when I got extended and transferred here.”

Trystin nodded.

“Thankfully, things have been relatively dull for the past few years.”

“What really happened?” Trystin asked again, finally pouring a cup of tea for himself and for Ulteena. “I told you. You’re the Prophet returned.” Trystin shook his head. “It happened, and I tried to plan it out, but once it happens it’s still hard to believe that one incident can change a whole religion.”

“It can if the theocracy in charge wants it to.” Ulteena smiled. “Look. The Revenants-‘rev’ is out these days, by the way, and we have full diplomatic relations-have in effect said that they’ve changed, that the Prophet has revealed the new truth, and that’s just the way it is. They don’t want to know about you, and, with the improvements here, no one in HQ has the slightest interest in upsetting the Revenant leadership. We were hurting too badly, as you know, and so were the Revenants-“

“I saw that. Everything was quietly getting shabby. Too few returnees. Too many patriarchs with younger and younger wives. Young women desperate for any returnee. “

“You learned a lot in a short time.” Ulteena raised her eyebrows. “As I was saying, the Revenants really wanted a way out of the endless missions. So the appearance of a Prophet of love gave them an out. And they took it. Now they have real live holo shots of your self-sacrifice in the Temple, and interviews with people who saw your already healing hands after ‘the Temple was rebuilt.’ ” Ulteena gave him a wry smile. “Let’s see … ‘another will come to sit at the left hand of the Father.’ The one I liked was ‘how can you bring the word of the Lord to your neighbor when you kill that neighbor before you come close enough to speak?’” Trystin groaned.

“I’m glad you thought those words out-or you were truly inspired.”

“Mostly I based it on their Scripture, the stuff I had to learn … and I plagiarized.”

“Inspired plagiarism. ” Ulteena took a long sip from the cup. “You did look inspiring in that white suit, but I’m glad you didn’t wear it here. Are the suits in the ship?” “Yes. Why?”

“Well … we could send them back to Wystuh as genuine relics of the Prophet.” She gave a warm, almost impish smile at Trystin’s open mouth. “We wouldn’t. The suits will vanish. It’s better that way. Then Headquarters can breathe a sigh of relief.” “Everything is wonderful now?” Ulteena snorted. “Nothing is ever wonderful. We granted them the right to send a few hundred peaceful, Book-toting missionaries to the Coalition every year. They agreed to stop sending troids, but we have to let them meet the last ones en route, and so far that’s worked all right. We gave them the rights to the Vyncette system, and they’re planoforming for all it’s worth, and we’re selling them technology. There are skirmishes over unclaimed outer systems, and we and they have lost a few ships through ‘accidents,’ but it’s much better than the mess we had before you left. We’ve also gotten the rights to ship technology to they home systems, but we have to have Revenant partners. In short, it’s an unholy muddled mess-but we’re not destroying each other.” “You look good.”

“Remarkably well preserved? Almost nine years of translation and time-dilation error help.” She laughed. “You don’t look even a mere six years older.” “You’re gallant, but I read a mirror as well as a screen, and I don’t look nearly so well-preserved as you.”

“Farhkan surgery and translation errors.” He lifted the plate of cakes to her. “So what do I do? Disappear?”

“You don’t have to. No one knows that Commander Desoll was the Prophet. I’ve got your uniforms.” She appraised him. “You’ll certainly still fit in them. You change before you leave the office. You take early retirement with the incredible compound retirement you earned and deserve, and you use that and that trust you set up-we know everything-to grow flowers, teach, do anything you want.” She shrugged. “And keep your mouth shut.” “Or I disappear?”

“That could happen, but most probably the Coalition would just brand you as harmless and mentally unhinged by excessive translation-a poor sad veteran.” “And if I persisted-an institution?” “Probably … but what would be the point? To prove the hypocrisy of religion when every thinking individual understands that hypocrisy and when those who don’t think wouldn’t ever understand?”

Trystin nodded slowly. Ulteena had always made sense. “What about you?”

“I grow old in the Service-if they let me.” “Maybe you should retire?” “Is that a proposition?”

“Right now it’s a suggestion. I’m in no shape to make propositions … and I don’t know … where you … I’m still in shock.”

“Good. Formalities first. Always first,” she added sardonically. “You need to change into your uniform. I took the liberty of adding all your combat decorations, plus the full commander’s silver triangles. You’ll look impressive. You do have one last job before you head to Cambria.” “What?”

“Just parade around the station in full dress uniform and talk a little about the old days and the Maran battles. If anyone asks you about what you were doing, just smile and shake your head. Add a few words about how highspeed angular translations add up to fifteen years in a hurry. That’s it. Then we’ll send you home on a fast courier.” “That’s it?”

“That’s it. Disappointing, isn’t it? Your uniform is in the adjoining room. I won’t peek.” She smiled. “In fact, I’ll be out in the corridor laying some groundwork.” The commander stood.

So did Trystin, watching as she left, enjoying the sight of her, realizing he had missed her-and not known how much he had. He shook his head slowly, and took a deep breath. So he wasn’t done yet?

Would he ever be done? Not if Rhule Ghere was right. He looked at the door, but Ulteena was gone. Once again, the important things had gotten lost in the details-Ulteena was important, and he hadn’t even told her, and, with her reluctance, it was up to him, if she ever let him get close enough

Endless stars in His mansions, then one must realize how mighty is all creation… .”

“I am what I am. The Lord has seen what I have seen, and I have seen brothers and sisters killing each other. The Lord has said to bring His word to those who do not believe, yet how can someone who is dead hear the word of the Lord? Even Toren the Prophet wrote ‘do not say, better I my cousin than my neighbor, for all men and women are neighbors in the eyes of the Lord.’ “

“The Lord has His own plans for you and for me; we are to be molded for His use, whether we will or not.”

“Does a name mean that it is so? Does calling a knife a lilly make it one? Arguments are but words, and the logic of the scholars often bears little truth, only fine structure, like a well-built palace of sin.”

“Be of good courage, and deny me not, for what will be is the will of the Lord. Cast down this Temple, and the Lord will rebuild it, almost before your eyes.”

“You know the Lord, and the Lord knows you in your hearts. Judge not, lest you be judged, and yet, I say unto you, even as He will raise this Temple in less than three days, yes, even in the quickness of time, will He also give me for you, for someone must speak for you, you who would not speak for love. For you, someone must speak. For you, someone must offer forgiveness. Someone must atone for you-both now and in the fullness of time.”