The Rift War (30 page)

One Directorate ship was left unshielded, sitting alone in front of the opening of the
harbor of Quenlaque. The other ship sat directly behind it, within the expanded shield protecting
the city. All the weapons as well as the power siphon equipment had been moved to the hidden
ship. A false collection dish had been erected at the prow of the decoy ship, facing out to the
sea.

Grego suspected that some of his colleagues had enjoyed setting up the decoy, playing
with lights and equipment that surged with power and made noises and disturbances in energy
levels that could be detected fifty kilometers out at sea, but didn't do a thing. Edrout had no
experience with technology, and whoever came against them in that battleship didn't have a clue
what the power siphon was supposed to look like or how it operated. They would focus on the
big, flashy, noisy piece of equipment, and hopefully come close enough to be drawn into the
trap.

"Everything depends on Edrout being on that ship," Karstis muttered.

There was no need for lowered voices, for silenced equipment or stilled engines as they
waited for the enemy to take the bait, but they all acted as if Edrout was only a few meters away
in the water. Grego decided there was no such thing as too much caution.

On the other hand, if they were truly going to overdo precautions, shouldn't Emrillian
have disembarked and gone up to Quenlaque to wait for her parents to arrive, in safety? She sat
beside him now, studying a datapad screen.

"How are the manikins faring?" Graddon asked. Even the big seer kept his rumbling
voice to a muted roar.

"No fluctuations." She handed the screen to Kayn and he shared it with the team heads
from each ship, who sat on the other side of the control cabin and waited with them. "Does
everything look steady to you?"

"It will take years," Delori Proctor muttered, taking the screen Kayn passed on to her.
She looked up from the data and cast a crooked grin around the room. "Years to calculate just
how you managed to do with a few incantations what we have tried for decades to accomplish.
Holographs that are solid enough to react with their environment. Amazing. The advance in
technology alone could make us all rich beyond our dreams."

Grego caught that gleam in Kayn's eyes before he bowed his head to study the data
along with Delori. Emrillian was right. They could gain cooperation from all the scientists on
this team by offering them challenges and advances and profit, rather than threatening them.

Graddon had been fascinated by the holographic projectors the scientists used to share
information between ships, turning readouts from their equipment into three-dimensional
displays. When he tried to touch one, he had expressed disappointment that they weren't solid,
Delori had explained that it would take too much energy, too much effort from the computers, to
project energy fields strong enough to give the illusion of solidity. After only an hour of
discussion, Graddon provided the energy and expanded the memory capacity and calculation
speed of the holographic projectors with a few yanks on the Threads. Grego could have sworn
the scientist and the seer had developed adolescent crushes on each other while they worked.
Graddon certainly had a dopey grin when he looked at Delori, and she sparkled, as she had never
done for anyone in Grego's memory, when she looked at the big seer.

The upshot was that holographic images picked up equipment and made adjustments to
the fake power siphon and took care of chores on the decoy ship. Anyone who scanned them
would believe that real, solid human beings were on board. And if the ship was attacked, no lives
would be lost. Equipment would be destroyed, if Edrout acted the spoiled child and annihilated
the ship when he realized he couldn't have the power siphon. Graddon wouldn't be happy to lose
his new toys, but equipment could always be replaced, more easily than lives.

"One kilometer," Shalara reported from her post, where she and Nentor were teamed up
to keep the augmented sensors functioning. Grego had always considered her tall and sturdy,
perfect for a warrior, but the big scholar made her look small and delicate as they stood together,
identical streamers of blue and yellow light streaming from their fingertips to the equipment. She
caught her breath and turned to the group seated on the other side of the cabin. "It's
Fedarstan."

"What does that mean?" Graddon said, when the Moertans, including Emrillian, flinched
or grimaced or groaned.

"They could give Edrout a challenge for viciousness." Emrillian got up and paced a few
steps up and down the narrow aisle of clear space between the many control panels and the
bench seats. "They often close their borders, refusing to let their people visit other countries in
Moerta. They rewrite the history books to 'prove' that they are the titular overlords for adjoining
territories, and then declare 'justified' war to take back territory that the alleged rebels and
outlaws stole from them. They always proclaim themselves the wronged party in any dispute,
even if they are the ones who pick the fight or launch insults. No doubt their ruling committee is
even now accusing Goarlotte-Welcairn of spying on them and stealing the power siphon
technology from them, and they are here to take back their rightful property and punish the
thieves."

"In the past," Kayn offered, sounding almost amused, "they claimed that some of our
most eminent scientists and artists were hereditary citizens of Fedarstan, whose ancestors were
kidnapped and forced into slavery. Then they make demands for us to repatriate them, along with
whatever they created or discovered."

"And what does the High King's Court say about such claims?" Graddon said.

"There is no court. No Moertan overlord court. Nothing that has the authority to mediate
between the nations and compel justice," Karstis said. "It's every country for itself."

"And you people say you're superior to us, that your civilization is an improvement over
ours?" Nentor shook his head. "Princess, when your father re-establishes himself as High King,
our world will be a much better place."

"I wouldn't want to rule the world, and I'm sure Papa is weary enough from his past
duties and burdens, he doesn't want the world back on his shoulders, either," Emrillian said.

"Then what are you fighting for, if not to take over again?" Kayn said.

"The right to keep what is ours, to share with the world as we
choose
and not as
another dictates, to give anyone the freedom to come live among us as they choose. The freedom
to keep our magic and not have it stolen from us to power bigger and fiercer and nastier weapons
of war." She got up and walked to the control panel to join Shalara and Nentor.

"Two worlds side by side," Delori muttered. "One of science and technology, the other
of magic. Can they co-exist?"

"They have to," Grego said. "They have for centuries. The fence keeping them from
seeing and talking to each other has just been knocked over, that's all."

"What we need is to raise another fence that will let both sides talk and share, but
provide... Privacy? Boundaries that will protect each other's rights?" Emrillian said, looking over
her shoulder. "Aren't you afraid of magic invading and destroying all science and technology?
Aren't you afraid of the government of Goarlotte-Welcairn being abolished, and society being
arranged back into nobles and minor kings and commoners?"

Grego watched the expressions flicker across the faces of the other Moertans in the
cabin, including Karstis and Shalara. He and Emrillian and Mrillis had discussed such things
often over the years. While they agreed that it would be satisfying to go throughout Moerta and
abolish the more oppressive governments, such as Fedarstan, they didn't have the adequate
information to determine the dividing line between a government that hurt its people more than it
helped them, and a government that was stern but still a benefactor. Some countries might not
want to change, despite how their situation looked from the outside.

Obviously, from the thoughtful frowns, the flickers of dawning surprise, and other
expressions of deep, shifting thoughts, the others in the cabin had never considered the
implications and limitations and duties that came with the deceptively simple proposition of
rearranging the governments of the entire world. The bottom line was that just because Athrar
had the power to re-assert his rule as High King, that didn't mean he should. If the Encindi threat
could be destroyed once and for all, there was no need for a High King and an alliance of minor
kings to defend their own borders and their neighbors.

"Half a kil--" Shalara began.

"Invaders." Edrout's voice boomed across the intervening space from the Fedarstanian
ship. It rang in the body of the ship and set up an answering dissonance in the equipment. "I will
not waste time arguing with you. Be assured that I have taken over your fiercest and most
capable enemy and made them my vassals. I have their weapons at my disposal, as well as magic
that you cannot comprehend. There is nothing you can do to resist me. Do not even consider
hiding under the weak, puny defenses of Quenlaque. No one there is strong enough to defy me or
defend you."

"Sounds like he's wasting time to me," Karstis muttered. "Evil overlord rule number
one: never pontificate when you can just blow them out of the water."

Emrillian, Shalara and Delori all muffled chuckles behind their hands. Kayn looked
exasperated, but Grego could have sworn a smile twitched one corner of that mouth that never
did anything but scowl.

"Speak!" Edrout roared, the force of his magic and his volume making wavelets kick up
and spatter against the sides of the ships. "I know you can hear me and understand me. Respond,
or I will incinerate you and all the water around you."

"That's my cue," Kayn muttered. His expression turned sour as he got up from his bench
and crossed to the communications panel that linked him with the speakers on the decoy ship. He
braced himself with his hands on either side of the wand that picked up his voice. "This is Sevron
Kayn, commander of this scientific expedition. Your ship has been identified. I think it only fair
to warn you that your new vassals are chronic liars and exaggerate their talents and resources. I
recommend you take an inventory of your resources before you claim the ability to do any harm
to my ship."

The silence rang. Grego imagined Edrout throwing a temper tantrum on his confiscated
battleship. He hoped the enchanter was physically on board, and not projecting through the ship.
There was always the chance that he had chosen not to witness the fall of his enemies, and was
safely within the borders of his own territory. Emrillian had theorized that even if he did that, the
power drain to control the enemy ship from such a long distance would damage Edrout and open
all channels of magic to attack.

"Do you feel it?" Emrillian whispered.

"Aye." Graddon nodded, his eyes narrowing in concentration and his mouth flattening.
He held out a hand to Delori. "Brace yourselves."

"What?" Delori whispered. She grasped his hand. A moment later she tucked the
datapad into the front of her jacket and stood up to hold onto Graddon with both hands.

"He's taking the spoiled brat route," Emrillian said.

"Weapons priming," Shalara announced. "At that range, we have maybe a second from
firing to-- Firing!"

Emrillian snapped both arms forward. Blinding light flared from her hands as she
grabbed hold of the Threads, physically and with magic. She pulled hard, her face a fierce
mask.

Grego closed his eyes, envisioning the magic shield snapping into place around the
decoy ship. Muffled concussions rang across the water. He counted four, then felt the aftershock
of high waves pounding his ship, rocking it despite Quenlaque's shield and the ship's
stabilizers.

Graddon stood solid and still, eyes closed, one arm wrapped around the little woman
clinging to him. A faint nimbus of emerald light enclosed them.

"What is that?" Delori whispered, as the air darkened and thickened and gusts blew at
the ship, rattling the viewports, and a roaring, shrieking ululation spun from every direction.

"Edrout, having a temper tantrum." Emrillian opened her eyes and let her arms drop to
her sides again. "I'll have to remind Grandfather not to accuse me ever again of having one."

"You're all insane," Kayn said. He snorted, and his mouth did curve up a little at the
corners. He also braced himself with a white-knuckle grip on the control panel as the ship rose
and fell among stronger waves.

"Since your version of sanity doesn't include magic..." Grego held out a hand to
Emrillian, beckoning her back to the seat. He had an image of her falling, knocked off balance if
the water grew any rougher.

"Here it comes," Graddon said. "Now, little one."

Emrillian wrapped her arms tight around herself, closed her eyes, and glowed. The
nimbus of deep blue and gold and red expanded from her half a meter with every breath Grego
took. When the light touched him, he closed his eyes. Everything was going according to their
plan and their prediction of Edrout's reactions. Graddon was to signal when he sensed Edrout
attacking the shield around the decoy ship. Emrillian was to make the shield stronger and expand
it so it impinged on Edrout's command of the Fedarstanian ship. When the shoving battle
between them grew strong enough, she would signal Shalara, who would--

"Shar!" Emrillian shouted.

The air filled with a roaring Grego felt in his flesh and bones. It threatened to deafen
him. He opened his eyes, and through the shifting haze of colors he saw Shalara hit the
all-important control for the power siphon. Both dishes were on this ship, which immediately went
technology-dark as every bit of energy fed into the equipment. He held his breath, staring at
Emrillian, willing her corona of color and Thread power to stay strong. The power siphon
drained energy from in front of it, so theoretically all the Threads behind it, all the
magic-wielders standing behind the dishes, would be untouched.