At The Edge Of Space (Hanan Rebellion) (71 page)

What do you think you are?
Isande cried, slipping through his screening.
Aiela, what do you think you’re doing?

He shut her out with a mental wince.
Not fair, not fair,
her retreating consciousness insisted.
Aiela, listen!

He seized poor Kleph by the arm and shook at the heavy little fellow. “Kleph: now do you believe I meant what I said? Does it offend your precious sensibilities, all this fine world gone to cinders? If you have any other plans for it, then get us to the port. Maybe we can stop it. Do you understand me this time?”

“Yes,” said Kleph, and for the first time since Ashakh’s arrival the saucer eyes met his squarely. “Yes, sir.”

Kleph edged past him to take the lead. His low brow furrowed into a multiplication of wrinkles so that his eyes were fringed by his colorless hair. His thin lips rolled in and out rapidly. How much he honestly could understand, Aiela was not sure. Almost he wished the little amaut would contrive to escape as soon as they made the port.

Aiela,
Isande sent,
what are you doing? Why are you screening?

Aiela shut her out entirely. Pity was dangerous. Let it begin and screens tumbled one after the other. He had to become for a little time as cold as the iduve, able to kill.

His mind fled back to the safe and orderly civilization of Aus Qao, where crime was usually a matter of personal disorder, where theft was a thing done by offworlders and the clever rich, and where murder was an act of aberration that destined one for restructuring. No kalliran officer had fired a lethal weapon on Aus Qao in five thousand years.

He was not sure that he could. Ashakh could do so without even perceiving the problem: he only reacted to the urgings of
takkhenes,
of the two of them the more innocent. A kallia must somehow, Aiela thought, summon up the violence of hate before he could act.

He could not kill. The growing realization panicked him. Conscience insisted that he tell his iduve companion of this weakness in himself before it cost Ashakh his life. Something—
arastiethe
or fear, he knew not which—kept him silent.
Giyre
was impossible with this being: did he try to explain, Ashakh would send him away. All that he could do was to expend everything, conscience and
kastien
as well, and stay beside the iduve as far as his efforts could carry him.

14

R
akhi sweated. Great beads of perspiration rolled down the sides of his face, and the serenity of the
paredre
of
Ashanome
flashed in and out with the nervous flicker of a half-hearted mind-touch at the projection apparatus. But it was not projection. Between pulses the air was close and stank of burning; he occupied a woman’s body, felt the urge to
takkenes
with the life within it, a strangeness of yearning where there was yet neither movement nor fully mind—only the most primitive sort of life, but selfed, and precious. Rage surged coldly over his nerves: lights dimmed, lights flashed, screens flared and went dark. He dared do nothing but ride it out, joined, aware, occasionally guiding Chaikhe’s tired mind when she faltered in reaction. His body had limbs of vast size, his mind extended into a hundred circuits; he felt with her as her mind touched and manipulated contacts, shunted power from one system to another with a coordination as smooth as that of a living body.

And he perceived the hammering of Tejef’s weapons against the ship/body, the flow of energies on the shields, a debilitating drainage of power that required a great effort to balance defense between weakness and waste and destruction to the city. It began to be evident: Tejef’s ship, a small
akites,
had Chaikhe’s power supply from two lesser ships at a disadvantage. Chaikhe could, by skill and efficient management, prolong the struggle, but she was incapable of offensive action. Tejef could not down her shields, for probe and transfer ships such as Chaikhe commanded were heavily shielded, but their combined weaponry, while adequate to level a city, had no effect against an
akites.
The chronometer continued its relentless progress, ticking off the moments as
Ashanome
-time proceeded toward main-dark, and Kej, light-years away, had fled the ambered sea of Thiphrel: shadow flooded the coastal plain to the east of Mount Im, advancing toward ancient Cheltaris. Priamos-time, on the inner track, went more slowly, but had less time to run. Nine hours had passed since midnight. When three more had gone, Priamos would blaze like a novaed star and die.

Life-support/cooling had shut down entirely save for the control room. Lights were out everywhere but the panel even there. In the base ship Tesyel and the remaining crew huddled on the bridge, five degrees cooler than Chaikhe’s command center. The amaut with Tesyel suffered cruelly in the heat, mopping dry skin with moistened cloths, lying still, listless. Communications were almost out. Only the sensors that maintained the field and the shields were still fully operative.

The attack slacked off. It did so at irregular intervals, and Chaikhe allowed the automatic cutback to the secondary shields. But groundscan was picking up movement in what had been a dead zone; Chaikhe mentally reached for the image and the dark silhouette of an iduve appeared on the screen—no human, that lean quick shadow.
Takkhenes
reached and confirmed it: she saw the image hesitate at the touch, felt the ferocity that was Ashakh.

Chimele’s orders!
Rakhi sent.
Break, break contact, now!
And Chimele in the
paredre
was on her feet, her face dark with anger. Chaikhe flinched from the wrath Rakhi transmitted; but her attack reflexes had reacted before Rakhi’s cooler counsel prevailed, shunted power to the attack and expended heavily against Tejef’s shields.

Think!
Rakhi sent.
Nothing can live amid those energies. Hold back before you kill Ashakh.

She cut back suddenly—return fire damaged systems. She began to replot. But in another part of her mind she knew Ashakh still alive, about to die if she kept her shields extended as she must.
Warn him, warn him,
she thought.
Does he expect me to lower defenses for him and die? What is he doing?

Calm!
Rakhi insisted, and winced from the fury of her mind,
m’melakhia
for Ashakh is deadly conflict with that for the child in her, fury washing out reason.
Kill!
The impulse surged through her being, but Rakhi’s singleminded negative imposed control and she extended her mind to watch Ashakh’s progress.

More of the witless humans were creeping out from cover, as if the lesson of scores of human and amaut dead were not enough to teach them the peril of the field about the embattled ships; and like the stubborn creatures they were they moved out, stalking Ashakh and his two companions.

Aiela, Chaikhe recognized the azure-skinned being that moved beside Ashakh, but the small person with them, an amaut—

Tesyel,
she sent by the
idoikkhe: Have you dispatched any
okkitan-as
to Weissmouth?

“Negative,” came the nas kame’s voice. “We had no time. I scan that one, but I do not know him.”

A Priamid amaut. Ashakh’s witlessness appalled her, his lack of
m’melakhia
for
Ashanome
in taking on such a servant sent waves of heat to her face.
Ashakh!
she hurled an impact of mind at him that he had no means to receive, but perhaps
takkhenes
itself carried her anger. Ashakh hesitated, looked full toward the ship.

—And arched his back and fell, trying even in the motion to bring his weapon to bear. Chaikhe gave a shrill hiss of rage, seeing the humans that had done it, a shot from beyond him. Ashakh fired: a hundred
ehsim
of port landscape became a hemisphere of light and a handful of humans and an amaut aircraft were not there when it imploded into darkness, nor again when normal light returned, Tejef’s shields tightened and flared at the rippling of that energy, sucked outward toward Ashakh. Chaikhe reacted instantly, aware of the distant figures of the nas kame and the amaut trying to drag Ashakh back out of the exposed area. She hit at Tejef’s shields, and as her searching mind found no consciousness in Ashakh a rage grew in her, a determination to destroy everything, to force
Ashanome
to wipe out
akites
and port and population entire. If her
sra
was to die, it deserved that for
serach,
she and Ashakh and her child.

“No!” Rakhi shouted into her mind. “Chimele forbids! Chimele forbids, Chaikhe!”

She gave a moan, a keening of rage, and desisted. But another impulse seized her, a fierceness to
vaikka
upon the power against whom she and Ashakh struggled, be it Chimele, be it Tejef.

Chaikhe!
Rakhi cried. Through his mind Chimele radiated terrible anger. But Chaikhe wrapped herself in the chill of her own
arastiethe,
suddenly diverted power from the shields to communications, playing mental havoc with the circuitry of the ship until she patched into amaut communications citywide. The whole process took a few blinks of an eye. The frightened chatter of amaut voices came back to her.

Be sure what you do,
Rakhi advised her, Chimele’s order; but Chimele’s
takkhenois
lost some of its fierceness and flowed into alignment, feeding her will, supporting her now that her mind was clear.

“Open citywide address channels,” Chaikhe ordered, and received the acknowledgment of the terrified amaut in command of their communications.

“I am the emissary of the Orithain,” Chaikhe began softly, the phrase that had heralded the terror of iduve decrees since the dawn of civilization in the
metrosi.
“Hail Priamos. We pose you now alternatives. If this rebel iduve is not ours before midday, we shall destroy as much of Weissmouth and of Priamos as is necessary to take or destroy him; if this colony seems to side with him, we shall eliminate it. Evacuation is logistically impossible and the use of this field is extremely hazardous. I counsel you against it. I have said.”

She ceased, and listened in satisfaction as amaut communications went chaotic with incoming and outgoing calls, amaut asking orders, officers reacting in harried outbursts of emotion, sometimes a human’s different voice calling in, incomprehensible and distraught.

The panic had begun. It would run through the city, into the tunnels, and into every command station in the amaut colony.
Vaikka,
Chaikhe told herself with satisfaction.
They are sure we are among them now.
And the knowledge that these pathetic beings scattered before her attack filled her with a shuddering desire to pursue the
vaikka
further; but other duties called. Tejef. Tejef was the objective.

Attack resumed, ineffectual
vaikka
from Tejef for the damage done him among the amaut who trusted him for protection. Aiela had taken Ashakh beyond the range of weapons fire, and there was the grateful feel of returning consciousness from Ashakh. Her heart swelled with gladness.

No!
cried Rakhi. “Chimele will not permit contact, Chaikhe.”

The attack increased. Systems faltered. There was no time to dispute.

The spate of fire was a brief one; the glow about the iduve ships dimmed and the humans dared come from cover again. Aiela saw them moving far across the field and fired his own pistol to put a temporary stop to it. The humans were not yet aware that the weapon could not kill. He feared they would not be long in learning, about as long as it took for the first that he had fired on to recover; and as for the iduve weapon, that black thing like an elongate egg, there was indeed no way to operate it save by mind-touch.

“Let us go back, please, let us go back,” Kleph pleaded. “Let us get off this awful field, into the safe dark, o please, sir.”

A small projectile exploded not far away, and Kleph winced into a tighter crouch, almost a single ball of knees and arms, moaning.

It was indeed too close. Aiela seized Ashakh’s limp arm and snapped at Kleph in order to take the other. It was the first order Kleph had obeyed with any enthusiasm, and they hurried, pulling the iduve back into the cover of the basement from which they had emerged onto the field. There they had only the light of Kleph’s lamp and what came from the open door; and the very foundations shook with the pounding of fire out on the field. The wailing of sirens went on and on.

Ashakh stirred at last. He had been conscious from time to time, but only barely so. The shot that had struck him in the back would have likely been a mortal wound had he been kallia; but Ashakh’s heart, which beat to right center of his chest, had kept a strong rhythm. This time when he opened his eyes they were clear and aware.

“A human weapon?” Ashakh asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“
Niseth,
” murmured the proud iduve for the second time. “
Au, kameth, Tejefu-prha-idoikkhe—
”

“He has not used it.”

That much puzzled Ashakh. Aiela could see the perplexity go through his eyes. Then he struggled to get his hands under him, Aiela’s protests notwithstanding. “Either Tejef is too busy to divert his attention to you or Chaikhe has been taking care of you, kameth. I think the latter. This would be a serious error on his part.”

“Chaikhe gave him something to worry about,” said Aiela. “It was over the loudspeakers all over the field. She advised Priamos what it could expect—I don’t doubt it went to the city too. The field emptied quickly after that announcement, except for a determined few. We saw one aircraft try to take off.”

“It hit the shields,” burst out Kleph, his saucer eyes wide. “O great lord, it went in a puff of fire.”

“
Tekasuphre,
” judged Ashakh. He struggled to sit upright, and it was probable that he was in great pain, although he gave no demonstration of it. He suffered in silence while Aiela made a bandage of Kleph’s folded handkerchief and attempted to wedge it into position within Ashakh’s belt. There was surprisingly little bleeding, but the iduve’s normally hot skin was cold to the touch, and the iduve seemed distracted, mentally elsewhere. So much of the iduve’s life was mind: Aiela wondered now if mind were not being diverted toward other purposes, sustaining body.