Artemis Invaded (18 page)

“Another disembodied person,” Bruin said. “Are you certain Artemis is—well—real? Terrell and Bruin can communicate in sleep. Are you sure that this ‘Artemis' is not some peculiar demiurge, reaching out to you as once Sand Shadow did?”

Adara shook her head. “No … I mean, yes, I'm sure. I'm sure.”

“Yet she touched you in dreams.”

“At first. Not much lately, not since she discovered her ‘blind spots.'” Adara had told Bruin about this soon after his arrival, for Artemis's reaction was interwoven into their discovery of Leto. “But we have communicated when I was wide awake.”

“As you do with Sand Shadow,” Bruin said. He gave a gusty sigh. “Forgive me, but it is easier for me to believe you have located some peculiar demiurge than that you are communicating with an entity who is an entire world.”

“I can only tell you what I feel—what I
know
—to be true,” Adara said stubbornly. “If only you'd been there as Sand Shadow and I were … I think the seegnur created an intelligence to manage this planet in all its complexity. I think that when they were attacked, Artemis must have been put to sleep as Leto remembers being put to sleep. Something woke her, much as Leto was awoken—probably something Griffin brought with him.”

“Why did the seegnur need Artemis?” Bruin said. “I can understand Leto. She was clearly tied to that complex, but Artemis? The world continued to function even while she slept.”

“I don't know,” Adara said, “but, just because I don't know doesn't mean I'm wrong. Many things I thought I knew have been proven wrong. Why should something that doesn't fit into that worldview automatically be wrong?”

“You have a point, ladybug,” Bruin said. “Something Terrell said made me think that you were supposed to be working on your link with Artemis. Have you been?”

“Not as much as I should be,” Adara admitted. “I told myself that I needed to hunt and forage since Terrell and Griffin were closeting themselves in that complex but … I've been afraid. I keep trying to hold on to the fringes of the world as I knew it until I dragged Griffin from that landslide.”

“Kipper and I will hunt and forage,” Bruin said, shoving himself to his feet. “You are free to go … Go and find Artemis. Perhaps it is Ring's urgency tingling in my nerves, but I don't think he made me bring him all this way for no reason. Best we gather whatever understanding we can. These old bones feel a storm building. We'd better prepare before it breaks loose and rocks our world to its foundations.”

Interlude: Uncertain

They Made Me.

Granted mind that I might serve.

Granted heart that I might love that service.

Who did I serve?

What is my purpose?

If service is my beloved,

Why can I not remember

his face?

 

8

Ties That Bind

Even after Bruin, Ring, and Kipper arrived, Griffin remained immersed in his exploration of Leto's complex. Indeed, had Ring not insisted on accompanying Griffin and Terrell indoors, Griffin would have easily forgotten that anything had changed about their situation. The complex obsessed him to the point that Terrell had to remind him periodically that his goal was to seek and—if at all possible—activate a communications array so that he could contact his orbiting ship.

“This is all very interesting,” Terrell said one morning when Griffin called him over to show him some schematic diagrams he'd found regarding fuel cells, “but wouldn't your analysis be much easier if you had some of those devices you left on your ship—the ones that let you record information and make pictures? I'd like to see the portable library you mentioned. With it, we could compare what we're finding here with the artifacts you've already studied.”

Griffin nodded. “That would be great. However, I'm uncomfortable with bringing any modern technology down here until we're certain that the nanobots that, in all likelihood, crashed my shuttle have been completely disabled. What if I brought the
Howard Carter
down and she crashed?”

Terrell countered immediately. “Didn't you say something about the
Howard Carter
being able to send down drones that could carry small equipment? A drone would provide a very good test as to whether conditions have changed.”

When Griffin did not reply, Terrell persisted.

“I thought you intended to contact your ship and arrange for a message to be sent back to your family. You said a message would take a long time to reach them. Wouldn't it be better to send it sooner, rather than later? You said that you could arrange to send the message drone remotely, so the ship would not be at risk of contamination.”

Fighting down an urge to tell Terrell to stop nagging him, Griffin seized on a point he had been avoiding, but that was at least better than admitting he was indeed behaving irrationally—an admission that would be particularly irksome at this moment since, in many ways, he had never felt more rational in all his life.

“Terrell, I'm not certain that I want to contact my family—not now, not since we found this complex. I've told you about them, haven't I?”

“A little,” Terrell said, then demonstrated his excellent memory. “You are the youngest of ten children. You have six brothers and three sisters. Your father was involved in the military—although you have never spoken of what, exactly, that means. Your brothers and two of your sisters have, at least to some extent, followed in your father's path. Your mother, in addition to raising all those children, was involved in some form of natural science. I'm not certain of the details, but you mention her most often when…”

Griffin held up a hand in mild protest. “You are a credit to your teachers, Terrell the Factotum, to remember so much and to draw such accurate conclusions from so little.”

“I am glad the seegnur is pleased,” Terrell said, the ritual response coming automatically. Then he colored. “And you, too, of course … Now, do you wish me to tell you what I deduce is making you hesitate or to spare me the trouble and talk openly for once?”

“It's the military aspect,” Griffin admitted. “The Kyley Domain is largely peaceful. Indeed, since its initial formation, the domain has grown, because neighboring systems have requested membership—and the prosperity and security that come with it. These days, those systems which would join voluntarily have done so. Now some say that it is our duty to go forth and offer membership to systems who have not requested it.”

Terrell smiled knowingly. Although the people of Artemis were, on the whole, traditionalists, that didn't mean there had been no ambitious rulers in the days since the seegnur had departed. His nod encouraged Griffin to continue.

“Not everyone, not even a majority, agrees with this course of action. Even in those systems that joined the Kyley Domain voluntarily, there were clashes with those who resisted. Some of the fights were horribly destructive, because any system worth having in the domain is of a similar technological level to our own. My father earned his awards in one such conflict. Several of my brothers served in a conflict when a group of affiliated systems decided that they had been wrong to join Kyley and wished to separate and form their own dominion. If Kyley were to annex groups who did not wish to join us, there would be even more battles. Dread of this has been the greatest argument against the annexation faction.”

“And the annexation faction,” Terrell said, “is the one to which some of your family belongs, yes?”

“It is the faction,” Griffin said, forcing a rueful grin, “my family heads. With age, my father has taken his taste for battle into politics. He has proven quite good at it, although I believe he regrets he cannot solve some differences of opinion with a single well-aimed shot.”

“So your brothers,” Terrell continued, “and your more military-minded sisters as well, would welcome annexation becoming official policy.”

“Precisely.” Griffin waved one arm in a broad gesture that encompassed Leto's complex. “Here we have what may be the solution to the greatest argument against annexation. Even those pacification campaigns I mentioned—although not all-out wars of conquest—were expensive, both in equipment and in lives. My father's opponents have used this against him, saying that if mere pacification costs so dearly, how much more expensive would conquest be? I'll spare you my father's counterarguments. However, if the technological advances we see here were in his hands, then he would have a cogent argument for conquest.”

Terrell nodded. “Because, although the expense would still be high, the chance of victory—and the opportunity to recoup the expenses—would be much more likely.”

“Again, correct,” Griffin agreed. “That's why I'd like to know more about what we have here before I contact anyone.”

“Do you support your father's dreams of annexation?”

Griffin didn't need to be a genius to know that, although Terrell tried to keep his expression neutral, the factotum did not think annexation was a good policy. He framed his answer accordingly.

“Not precisely. Growing too large was what doomed the Old Empire. Their technology—especially in communications and travel—was as far above that of the Kyley Domain as that of Kyley is above that of the average householder in Shepherd's Call. Currently, the Kyley Domain is mostly peaceful. Peace is good for scholarship and that is what I love. No. I can't say I would particularly favor annexation.”

“I wonder what motivated the seegnur,” Terrell said. “As you said, they were far above any technology either of us has ever seen. Nonetheless, they made this place so they could research further advances. What could they have possibly wanted?”

Griffin brightened. “Actually, I'm beginning to figure out what their primary areas of research were.”

“Couldn't Leto just tell you what they were doing?”

Uninvited, the disembodied voice replied, “Authorization level is not precisely clear. Until it is so, I shall withhold both restricting and abetting.”

“That,” Griffin said, shrugging, “about says it. I think if I figure out enough on my own, Leto will change her mind.”

Terrell nodded. “So, what do you think were the primary areas of research? You've had me sketching different models of battle armor. I can't say that's given me any great insights.”

“Ah, but your work,” Griffin said, slapping his friend on the back, “has given
me
a number of insights. Let me share them.”

He led the way to the well-lit table that had more or less become his office. Ring was nearby, sitting upright on the floor, apparently drowsing. Griffin did not so much ignore the other man as let him continue to rest. The journey from Lynn's isolated community to Maiden's Tear must have been exhausting for Ring. He might need as many days to recover.

“Pull over a chair. Let me grab my notes. Right. Now, where should I start?”

Terrell shrugged. “We of Artemis know little of the seegnur, your Old Imperials—beyond what was in the lore. You say they surpassed your own people in both the technologies of communication and travel. Maybe you can explain the differences between you. If you don't, I'm not going to know why you're so excited.”

“Fair enough.” Griffin paused, considering how best to explain star flight to someone from a culture that considered a multi-masted sailing ship the epitome of long-distance travel. “Think of space as an enormous sea in which the star systems are scattered like chains of islands swirling around a sun. The distances are so vast that travel between close systems—even between planets in the same system—takes not minutes or hours, but days, weeks, years, even lifetimes.”

Terrell accepted this so quietly that Griffin wondered if he was being humored. Then he remembered that Terrell belonged to a culture where journeys never took minutes or hours, but always took days, weeks, months, or longer. This explanation might be easier than he had imagined.

“I'm going to spare you the technical details—I'll be honest, I don't understand them myself—but eventually someone postulated that space could be folded.” Griffin took out a handkerchief—thankfully clean—and spread it on the table. “Let's say System A is on this hem and System B is on this hem. The distance between would take years to cross, even at the fastest speeds. The orikami drive lets a ship equipped with it fold the space and so shorten the journey. He pinched the handkerchief in the middle, folding it so that the two edges remained visible, but the middle was compressed. “Now I've folded the space so that only half the distance needs to be crossed. We can fold it half again, then…” He made a final fold. “Half again.”

“Amazing!”

Gratified, Griffin continued, “The orikami drive can't be used within a star system—the bodies that make up those ‘island chains' make folding space impossible. However, there are various types of secondary engines that enable a ship to travel between planets. This combination of orikami drive and secondary engines is what is used by the Kyley Domain and is about the best we can do.”

“What did the seegnur use?”

“We don't know for certain,” Griffin said. “For more routine matters, they used something not unlike the orikami drive. However, there is evidence that they had found the means to make even bigger folds in space, that they could even fold space within star systems, which gave them a tremendous advantage.”

Terrell nodded. “Like that which someone with a small, fleet sailing vessel would have if their rivals were limited to rowboats.”

“Precisely!” Griffin's eyes shone with excitement. “That technology vanished with the Old Empire. The theory is that it depended as much on a human component as on any machinery. We don't know whether these pilots were all killed, were ordered to suicide, or merely died out without passing on their skills to a new generation. I think it was probably a combination of several of these elements. I also suspect that after the fall of the Old Empire there was such chaos that the resources for building these special ships and training their pilots simply wasn't available.”