Artemis Invaded (35 page)

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Authors: Jane Lindskold

BOOK: Artemis Invaded
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“Gee,” he said weakly, managing a sickly smile. “That was fun.”

Still smiling, Griffin fell slightly forward, still in the suit's grasp, and puked all over the two men standing in front of him.

*   *   *

Sand Shadow and Honeychild joined Adara soon after full dark had fallen. From the bear, Adara learned that only one of Griffin's brothers had even bothered to poke his head out into the valley. Comparing the relayed image to the descriptions Kipper had given her, Adara decided this must have been Alexander. She tried to remember what Griffin had said about him, and realized that he hadn't said much about any of his nine siblings. Occasionally, he'd mention that someone had taught him something but, not even when they'd been visiting with her family and such talk would have been natural, had he said much.

Terrell also didn't talk much about his family but, in his case, that was natural. Like Adara, he had left home to begin his training very young, for his quick mind had been quickly recognized, and each generation of his family liked to supply at least one factotum in honor of the family's heritage. Terrell did talk about his teachers and the classmates who had been like brothers and sisters to him. He'd even mentioned that his parents were alive and would dance at his wedding …

She shoved such thoughts from her mind, knowing she was letting herself be distracted because Alexander frightened her. She had no doubt that Kipper was telling the truth when he said that Alexander had the power to control the people of Artemis. Such commands were included in lore and legend—and stories both bawdy and grim had grown up around the motif of what happened when a proud young woman met a seegnur with the power to command. Even if these seegnur were not interested in such games with an Artemesian, Adara knew one member of their company at least would love to play out the old tales.

Honeychild had not found Julyan's scent any deeper into the vale of Maiden's Tear than a few paces from the door in the rock wall, but the bear's finding confirmed Adara's guess that the Artemesian man whose name Kipper had not known had been Julyan. That only left the curiously slack-faced boy unidentified, but Adara had her guesses. The Old One had been breeding highly adapted children for many years now. It was quite possible that a few had been stashed elsewhere than Mender's Isle. The Old One was not the sort to put all his eggs in one basket. Adara guessed that this boy had been one such and that the Old One had reclaimed him when all else went to ruin.

She put supposition from her mind and focused on what was before them. First, she needed to find out if the ways into Leto remained open. Even if the doors were open, would Leto let her enter or give her away? How to find out? Adara had the distinct impression that Leto did not like her. Yet, Leto did like Griffin and these new arrivals had taken him prisoner. Might Leto be willing to view Adara along the lines of the enemy of my enemy is, if not my friend, at least my ally?

There was only one way to find out and that was risky. It meant that Adara had to put herself where Leto could “see” her—and where Leto might choose to betray her.

“My choices are limited,” Adara explained to Sand Shadow. “It's either risking Leto or leaving the others prisoner and hoping they get themselves out. I can't even wait for the group to leave the complex, because there's no guarantee they ever will. Kipper said the Danes arrived through an underground tunnel. It's likely they'll leave that way, even bring in supplies that way.”

Sand Shadow may not have understood all the words, but she gathered enough to send Adara a question. It took the form of a strange creature—a graceful young woman who, at the same time, looked as if she'd burst from the ground like an elf-cap mushroom. Adara knew who the puma meant. Even as she marveled at the merging of images, she was shaking her head.

“Artemis? What can she do? She cannot see into Leto. I'm not sure if Leto knows Artemis exists but, if she does, I have a feeling that knowing we know Artemis isn't going to make Leto like us any better.”

A querulous me-rowl expressed Sand Shadow's doubt in Adara's conclusion. Clearly the puma felt that Artemis would be an advantage in this situation.

Adara tried to find a way to explain. “If Leto was created first—as Terrell seems to think—then she's going to think Artemis should be serving her. We know Artemis won't do that. The very thought of Leto puts Artemis into a panic. Best we leave this for another time.”

Sand Shadow rolled over, waving her paws in the air in mock surrender. Adara gave her belly fur a vigorous rub.

“Thanks. Now, how best to visit Leto without putting ourselves at risk?”

After considering various plans, Adara came up with one that she was willing to try. Thus far they had no evidence that Leto had any mobile units—not even to the extent that Artemis had her various fungi. Therefore, if Leto called help, that help would be human.

“We'll rig a deadfall over the door,” Adara said, “so that if she does call someone, we can slow them down while we get away.”

Sand Shadow sent an image of her paw, claws spread wide, making bloody ruin of an anonymous human threat.

“No. We don't want to go that far. We might need any one of them—even Julyan or the Old One. Worse, if Alexander does control our friends, one of them might be sent out to ‘negotiate' with us. Best we set up something less lethal.”

Sand Shadow wasn't completely satisfied, but when she saw the elaborate deadfall Adara had in mind, she agreed. Like most cats, she had a distinct sense of humor and leaving a human—especially one armed with powerful weapons such as the blue spavek had possessed—incommoded while they fled caught her fancy.

As Adara rigged a heavy net Bruin had brought in his gear, pots of various nasty-smelling liquids meant to stop anyone from tracking them by scent, and a few other little gimmicks into a bundle she could easily move, she hoped she wouldn't need any of this. She'd seen the gouts of lightning Ring had shot from the blue spavek.

Still,
she thought,
we have to take a chance. Let's learn if Leto's willing to talk. If not, we may not be able to set our friends free.

Interlude: Solution

To

Possession

Domination

and

Repression

What Reaction?

Condemnation

Retaliation

In What Fashion?

Execution?

Later, maybe,

First, Prevention

Could There Be Any Objection?

 

15

New Arrival

Julyan was losing track of how long they had been in Leto's complex. Without the passage of the sun through the sky, the feeling of free air on his skin, the slow wheel of the stars as they turned against the blackness of the night, he felt uneasy. He knew he had slept, eaten meals, made trips to the privy, washed, and done other chores that must have taken up time, but some other part of his mind told him that no time—or an infinity of time—had passed.

The food didn't help, being monotonously similar, taken from supplies the Dane brothers had carried with them. At first those little cubes that expanded into a variety of intensely flavored edibles had fascinated Julyan, but now he was growing to hate them. Each yellow cube tasted exactly like every other yellow cube, every blue cube like every other blue cube. The predictability was numbing, especially for a hunter, who was accustomed to eating according to the finds of the day. Even one cut of venison didn't taste like all the rest, and there was variety from deer to deer, gazelle to gazelle, kudu to kudu.

The Old One ignored Julyan most of the time, as did Siegfried and Falkner, except when they reluctantly came to relieve him on some watch. Alexander was a more frequent visitor, but even his torments had a certain sameness to them, as if his thoughts were elsewhere.

A few times, Julyan suggested he go out into the valley of Maiden's Tear to hunt or forage. No one took him seriously. They had food and drink enough. If they needed more, a message to the mysterious Gaius would supply it. Julyan's initial fear that the Danes would decide to use him to test one of the spaveks became a sort of longing—at least being a test subject would be different.

However, following Griffin's dramatic collapse, experiments with the spaveks were halted while Falkner compared what schematics Leto would supply to the actual suits. When Falkner could tear himself away from these, he cross-examined Griffin. He even tried discussing the spaveks with Ring but, if anything, Alexander's command that Ring cooperate had made Ring harder to understand than usual.

Julyan understood that several more suits had been pulled apart and were being inspected. He had no part in this. His prisoners were kept busy by being given a section of a spavek and told to clean it carefully, with nameless but dire consequences promised if anything was damaged. Despite the threats, when the prisoners worked on the spaveks they were stationed at a long table where they could be watched.

Julyan was told to keep chatter to a minimum and to make sure the prisoners treated the artifacts with respect. He didn't think they would break anything—not deliberately, at least. These Dane brothers didn't understand the respect for artifacts the loremasters had ingrained into the people of Artemis. Julyan was glad when the prisoners were put to work. Even if he didn't get to do anything, watching them work was better than standing alone in the corridor.

As minutes grew into hours, hours into days, Julyan's soul congealed into a semblance of contented routine within which was encapsulated a festering mass of insanity. Since he was not permitted to hate Alexander, Julyan's thwarted desires came to focus on those he blamed for failing to come and break the monotony of his existence. He envisioned amber eyes, blue-black tresses, a catlike tread …

Adara would come. She must come. She had been promised to him. He must have her. When he did, all would be right. Surely when Adara was his, Alexander would finally let Julyan kill Griffin. These dreams became the dark twin stars around which his galaxy swirled.

*   *   *

Griffin used the intensification of his link to Terrell to assure his friend that no matter what his brothers wanted, Griffin would never agree to work with them, especially if this meant having Old Empire technology released upon an unsuspecting universe. Additionally, Griffin warned Terrell to do his best to deny that he had any psionic ability. The legend of the factotum's abilities was hardly known, even on Artemis. It was possible that Terrell might be able to pass as unable to operate one of the suits. Even after their waking contact faded, a touch in sleep remained. Griffin desperately needed that anchor as his nerves settled from the riot of confusion wrought upon it by his intense contact with the blue spavek.

When Falkner came to debrief him, Griffin steered a careful course between resisting and being too cooperative. Resisting would probably lead to him not being permitted to associate with the other prisoners. However, if he was too cooperative that might awaken suspicion, if not in Falkner or Siegfried, then certainly in Alexander. Therefore, Griffin allowed Falkner to coax him into talking, acting flattered that his older brother—the acknowledged expert on things mechanical in the Dane family—would ask his opinion.

Griffin wanted to share some of his experiences, if only to protect his friends from being used as test subjects without appropriate precautions. Griffin let Falkner know his suspicion that the suits needed time to adapt to each wearer. He also explained that different suits might mesh better with different talents—and that Ring's advice in this matter should not be ignored.

“What do you make of Ring?” Falkner asked again, during one of these cross-examination sessions. “You say he was the first to try one of the suits, that he even selected the blue one from all the rest. How could he manage that? He can barely frame a coherent sentence.”

“I'd ask the Old One what he bred Ring for,” Griffin evaded. Whenever possible, he tried to put pressure on the Old One, never letting his brothers forget that their obedient “Maxwell” had an agenda of his own. “He had stud books going back at least a couple generations, probably notes based on his research.”

“I have asked,” Falkner said. “Maxwell says that Ring was a mistake. He'd been trying for clairvoyance, and ended up with something more like unreliable precognition. Ring was a dead end, useless even as breeding stock. When he got away, Maxwell says he didn't look too hard. He admitted he thought Ring was probably dead within a day or two of leaving his protection.”

“And you don't find that cold?”

“How I do or don't find Maxwell isn't the point. He's useful. His studies in the lore, combined with a fine sense for history, has given him insights we can use.”

“If the lore is what interests you,” Griffin said, “you should speak with Terrell. Factotum get a very solid grounding in the lore. You could use what Terrell was taught to corroborate what the Old One tells you.”

Falkner laughed. “Maxwell made a similar suggestion. He knows you have undermined our trust in him and is eager to win it back.”

If Falkner was enjoying himself, Siegfried had been heard to complain that he felt like the prince in the fairy tale who was told to sort grains of corn from equal-sized pieces of gold, except that he didn't even know what was corn, what was gold. He would have liked to take everything back home, but that was impossible. As to what Alexander wanted, Griffin had no idea. Indeed, his only hint as to what Alexander did with his time came in the form of Terrell's nightmares.

Griffin had tried to communicate with Leto but, since the prisoners were forbidden to speak when they were in their cells and Julyan had proven incredibly adept at hearing anything but the softest utterance, he hadn't had any luck. Griffin didn't know if Leto was ignoring him or if her audio pickups had been set to ignore sounds below a certain level. Either explanation was plausible. From what he'd overheard, he had gathered that Leto was being minimally cooperative with the Danes. Perhaps that lack of cooperation extended to him as well.

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