Anvil of Stars (38 page)

He turned off the projected pages, lay back on the cushion and asked for the lights to dim. Soon there would be much less time for sleep.

* * *

"How in hell can anyone disguise an entire star system?" Hans asked. His hair stuck out in blond spikes; clearly, he had not slept much recently. Ex-Pans, Silken Parts, and Stonemaker's representatives, Eye on Sky and Shipmaker, gathered in the nose with the joint search team. The starfield expanded beyond, Leviathan bright and steady to one side, still too far away for planets to be visible to their naked eyes.

Silken Parts rustled; every few minutes, the braids would tremble, as if their cords needed to scratch some itch difficult to locate. Luis Estevez Saguaro had prepared a chart comparing the four views they had of the system—the view found in the records of the dead ship, the Dawn Treader's view from just beyond Wormwood, the view obtained by the Brothers, and the present view. Hans regarded it dourly, chin in hand.

"How much energy would it take to broadcast such a disguise?" he asked.

Hakim calculated quietly. "Half the energy produced by the star itself, in one estimate," he said.

Silken Parts softly disagreed. With violin speech and a somewhat musty odor, he said, "We cannot assume the disguise is broadcast in all directions—"

"Wait," Hans interrupted, raising one hand. Silken Parts drew back, rustled again. Martin doubted that the Brother felt affronted, but he wished Hans could be less imperious. "You think something's being broadcast. What—an image of the system, altered somehow?"

Hakim cleared his throat. "Jennifer and Giacomo—"

"Spare me more goddamned momerath," Hans said. "I need something concrete."

"Please have patience," Hakim said, looking to one side, face darkening.

Hans lifted a hand, flicked a finger: go on.

"Jennifer and Giacomo have taken time from the work in the combined libraries. Jennifer believes that several regions of space may have had their ray tracing, their radiation-transit bit structures, interfered with. Photons could seem to appear out of nothing. These regions, each perhaps as wide as the star system itself, but having no depth—located perhaps at the periphery of the system—would act like giant projectors, revealing convincing full-spectrum images of… a nonexistent system."

Hans poked his finger into a projected image of the fifteen-planet system. "Like this one, but a lot bigger. You mean, if we were to enter, we'd pass through the deception, see what was really there?"

"Not at all," Hakim said. "It would be possible to shift these ray-altered regions to continue to deceive. I admit, it would be a massive undertaking, but not nearly so great as wrapping the entire solar system in a sphere of deception."

Silken Parts said, "Our ideas cross difficult. Please project."

Hakim quickly sketched in diagrams showing their positions, regions of ray-alteration shaped like shields, camouflaged or deceptive images perceived from great distances.

"Very powerful," Silken Parts said. "Could change field of battle. Great blindness and confusion." He explained to Eye on Sky and Shipmaker.

"Scary stuff," Hans said. "Any way we can penetrate it?"

"If it is constant, no," Hakim said. "But if the images are maintained only at certain intervals, we may receive a correct image with constant vigilance."

"But we wouldn't necessarily know which was correct."

Hakim shook his head, eyes downcast.

"So what do we plan for?" Hans asked.

"Stonemaker should be in on any planning," Harpal said. Martin agreed.

"Right. But what I'm asking is, how can we make plans, when we can't know what to expect, what is real and what is not?"

"Possibly nothing is there at all," Silken Parts said.

Hans' eyes seemed to glaze over. He put his hands behind his neck, shook his head slowly, said, "I haven't the slickest notion what we can do, but we need a war conference."

As they prepared to leave, Paola Birdsong arrived with a string of ten braids, all eager to see the unobscured stars. She smiled at Martin as they passed, happy with her new occupation. "They feel better if they can see the stars once or twice a tenday," she said.

The braids rustled like leaves poured from a bag.

* * *

Martin learned from Silken Parts that Stonemaker would not be available for four days. Hearing the search team's latest information had caused quite a stir among the Brothers, and Makers of Agreement had been called for.

Donating two cords apiece, the Brothers had created three large new individuals, the Makers of Agreement. They served one function only: to look over the present situation and render fresh judgment, unclouded by whatever prejudices the former braids might have had.

Hans received this news from Martin and Eye on Sky with intense vexation. He conferred with Rex for a few moments in one corner of the schoolroom, then returned and said, "All right. We'll hold a conference with the Makers of Agreement. Is that okay with you?"

Eye on Sky smelled of cabbage and old tobacco smoke, showing intense cogitation, and replied, "It will be adequate."

"Maybe they'll give us a fresh perspective as well," Hans said. Martin watched from one side, arms folded behind his back.

The discussion took place in the Brothers' territory. It was dark in the corridors there; the air smelled moist and electric, like a storm. Sometimes Martin caught a tang of beach, salt and organic decay. Eye on Sky led Hans, Rex, Paola, Martin, Harpal, Cham, and Joe to a small, close chamber. Martin had requested that Paola join them, since she was most expert at Brother speech.

The walls were coated with dripping oil. On the floor of the chamber, three braids lay, undulating slowly to a steady wind of intensely organic, fishy smells and the sound of waves breaking on a shore.

The braids rose and coiled like cobras as the humans entered. Martin could not recognize any of them; all patterns had been rearranged. They did not even smell familiar. In the past few tendays, Martin had learned to pick up a few of the subtle odors of individual braids, even giving some of them code names: Teacake, Almond Breath, Kimchee, Vinegar.

Eye on Sky, the best of the Brothers at speaking English, would act as translator for the temporary braids. "Makers of Agreement will seem disoriented for a time, but when the braids return cords to all, we they all will remember discussions."

"Not ideal," Hans commented dryly. "Still, we're coming into Leviathan in the next three months. We need to begin strategic planning. War councils. Understood?"

Eye on Sky translated, with Paola's help. While Paola could not make Brother sounds, she had modified her wand to provide a basic vocabulary.

Hans wrinkled his nose at the effusion of smells. "I've been studying your conflict. We all have, I assume."

"Conflict?" Eye on Sky asked.

"Your battle. When your ship was severely damaged."

"Yes," the braid said. "We might translate it more as the Sadness."

"You entered a stellar system ten light years from here, to take on what you assumed was a world colonized by Killers… And in fact, you were probably correct. You made an effort to be certain your judgment was correct. That took a year and a half, our time… An extraordinary effort. During that time, you were detected, but you maneuvered through the defenses, sterilized the surface of the planet, then encountered a squadron of killer probes fleeing from the destruction. You were subjected to a bombardment of neutronium weapons; you survived with high casualties and severe damage to your ship."

He paused. Eye on Sky added nothing to this summary.

"You accelerated out of the system, and with your available resources, looking back, you saw what might have been the surviving killer probes returning to the planet."

"Yesss…" said Eye on Sky, with the peculiar musical upturn in its voice. "Mostly correct."

"Anything incorrect?" Hans asked, eyebrow raised.

"Mostly correct."

"All right," Hans said, shoulders slumping, hunching his upper body over where he sat. He lifted his wand and projected some crude colored sketches of the Brothers' battle. "It seems obvious to me that you faced a decoy world, much as we did around Wormwood. It may have been a less sophisticated decoy—it was farther away from Leviathan—but that in itself could be important. We both got our asses wiped. Pardon me—"

"The analogy, for we us, is cords were skinned," Eye on Sky said. "I we understand." A steady progression of violin sounds, chirps, and smells wafted from Eye on Sky to the three temporary braids.

Hans smiled. "And after you were done, it seemed likely the killer probes would repair the decoy, start all over."

"Yes," Eye on Sky said.

"So in effect, your sacrifice was for nothing."

"Yes," Eye on Sky said.

"We're all pretty awful at anticipating what the Killers can do. But then, so are the moms—your snake mothers, too, I assume. The closer we get to Leviathan, the more sophisticated the traps, until Wormwood itself seemed to actually be the target. I think we can assume Leviathan is the real center of interest. And the deceptions and defenses are going to be extraordinary. Am I right?"

The three braids stirred as Eye on Sky conveyed this to them.

"There is general agreement we our survival not good chances," Eye on Sky said.

"But we have an advantage," Hans said.

"Combined resources and knowledge," Eye on Sky translated for the largest braid.

Martin added, "And the chance to compare notes and pool our minds. The Killers don't know that we intercepted the Red Tree Runners' ship. They don't know that we've combined forces with you."

"Right," Hans said. "Some of our best brains are working with some of yours, and we're getting along just fine. Now it's time to make serious plans."

The three braids moved closer together, heads almost touching. Smells of bananas and musty wine.

"I'd like our weapons crews to join with yours. I'd like the moms and snake mothers to make ships we can fly together."

Martin felt a sudden and unexpected renewal of respect for Hans.

"We're in this together," Hans said, rubbing his face with his palms and wiping them on his overalls as if they were greasy. He looked at Cham and Martin, smiled, turned back to the braids. "We're family. Am I right?"

"It is a good time for this," Eye on Sky translated.

"We're going to need a joint planning team," Hans said. "Myself, Rex, Harpal, Martin, will be on it from our side. As soon as possible, we'll need to know which braids will represent your side."

"Agreed," Eye on Sky said. "Makers of Agreement look sharply at we our crew, and choose, and then reassemble normal in two days your time. Stonemaker will announce to yours."

"Perfect," Hans said. He clasped his hands, bowed to Eye on Sky and the Makers, gathered up his party, and prepared to leave the Brothers' territory. The largest temporary braid suddenly screeched shrilly and all turned to look at him.

"I we sees water clear, air clear," he said, voice like a child's recorded on a bad tape machine.

Hans nodded, waiting for more.

"This is the one," the large temporary continued. "As you sound words, this is the one. Fine all if we we die for this."

"Right," Hans said.

"I we believes this one means—" Eye on Sky began.

"I understand him perfectly," Hans said, raising his thumb. "We are in accord. Am I right?"

The humans nodded. In the corridor, once in human territory and away from any Brothers, Hans murmured, "God damn, I love the way they talk. If we could only speak their lingo-smello half so well-o!"

Martin felt unexpected tears begin in his eyes. Hans was still capable, still a leader; his decisions and ideas were strong and forward.

The moms and snake mothers took the joint weapons team into the weapons store and showed them three modified craft. Each could carry a braid and a human in separated compartments; this, they explained, in case one was injured or suffered problems that might interfere with the other.

Meeting after meeting, planning session upon session, ruminations between Brothers and humans, preparations for joint drills, yet despite their best efforts, never a sense of resolution, of full understanding. If this was what the defenders of Leviathan had hoped for, they had achieved it in spades: a deep sense of unease, far worse than when Dawn Treader had descended toward Wormwood.

Leviathan hung three and a half light months distant, a steady image of fifteen worlds.

In the nearly empty schoolroom, Silken Parts coiled near the star sphere and spread three grasping cords from below the tip of its trunk, each grasping a human wand. The first three pairs of claws along each cord curled around the wands with impressive dexterity. Images flew through the air for the benefit of Stone-maker and Eye on Sky, faster than Martin could intercept; the Brothers had the advantage of multiple sensory systems, each capable of absorbing and holding for braid assimilation. The Brothers' briefing took less than a minute. Silken Parts than transferred all three wands to one cord and handed them to Hakim, Luis, and Jennifer.

"Thank you," Silken Parts said, leaning forward to the human observers: his comrades on the joint search team, and Hans, Harpal, Rex, Cham, and Martin.

Hakim sighed in admiration. "It is frustrating to be human," he said to Silken Parts and Stonemaker. Stonemaker made a sound like water over gravel and emitted a sickly-sweet flower scent, olfactory and auditory laughter, which Martin suspected was more politeness than true humor.

"I will present the results now for humans," Hakim said, lifting one wand. "Slower, but with no more joy. We have spread our remotes to their farthest position, as agreed to by Hans and Stonemaker, and we have seen the Leviathan system with much greater detail.

"Civilization is apparent. It is very, very busy. There is continuous commerce between the fifteen worlds, especially in the vicinity of the fourth planet. If this is a false projection or deception, it is a masterpiece.

"Every planet is occupied. The density of activity on each planet is marvelous, even from what we can see at this distance. Commerce between the worlds flows unceasingly, and it appears to be conducted by a variety of beings. At least, that is my intuition, and it is shared by Silken Parts." Hakim projected images of five of the planets, arrayed around his head like balls frozen in a juggling act.