Dark Foundations (9 page)

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Authors: Chris Walley

Tags: #FICTION / Christian / Futuristic, #FICTION / Religious

BOOK: Dark Foundations
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She stopped the vehicle under some large, spreading trees. Vero waited until she climbed out, then indicated a direction in which to walk.

“I find the sun bright these days, P. But this is fine.” He looked around. “Nice trees. Merral would know what these are.”

“You can always read the labels,” Perena said, pointing to one nearby with a slight smile.

“I'd be no wiser.” Vero sat down heavily under the tree and sighed. “So, the FDU becomes the
FDF:
the Farholme Defense Force. Where do we begin? Communications, I suppose
.

Perena sat silently next to him.

“Maria Dalphey was working on a secure system. I must contact her.”

“Yes. There wasn't time to develop it before the battle.”

“Was it really just the day before yesterday? It seems like months ago.”

“In a way, it was years ago,” she said softly. “It was another time, Vero. It occurred in another world.”

A couple with a young child between them walked past, wariness in their faces. Each parent had tight hold of a tiny hand.

“They watch their children now,” Vero said.

“This used to be a carefree world. It's only hours since the speech. And it's sinking in that we have been attacked and we could be attacked again. We have enemies.”

In the long silence that followed Vero thought about his father.
I long to see him again.
He sighed.
There's no time for such thoughts. I must think of the practicalities: There's work to do here.

“I am going to live at Brenito Camsar's cottage near Isterrane, P. You must come. There's a lot of space artifacts.”

“But why there? Other than that nice setting on the headland.”

“Because it's off the beaten track, and it will allow me the freedom to come and go at will. I want to stay out of the way. Keep a low profile. And if I have any spare time I also want to start something of a research project on all Brenito's material. I live in hope that there might be something there that can help us.”

He leaned back, looking at the shafts of light coming through the leaves. “And Merral is going to write a detailed account of what happened on the ship.
Everything
—every last fragment may be of value to us.”

“Are you terribly upset that it was destroyed?”

He noted how delicately she asked the question. “Yes and no. The idea that we could have taken a working vessel and navigated it all those light-years back to the Assembly was always unrealistic. And who was to say that I might have been on it? The ship would have had limited space and there are lots of people with more pressing reasons to return to Earth than me. So, I suppose I was prepared for the worse.”
Was I really?

“I like your attitude. I can sympathize with that.”

“Thanks, Perena. I really value your friendship.”
I really do—more than I dare say.
Yet the words came out. “I'm a long way from home. And, as of yesterday, it doesn't look like I'm going back any day soon. It's a pity . . . I'd have liked you to meet my family. I'm pretty certain my father isn't going to be around in fifty years—or fifty months.”

“That sounds like an offer,” Perena said with such an out-of-the-ordinary tone of voice that Vero felt a pang of some deep and turbulent emotion. “Is it?”

Is it?
“No—well, yes. I mean—
no
.”

A succession of thoughts tumbled through his mind.
I admire Perena and respect her. I
am
fond of her . . . maybe more than fond. I would like to pursue that possibility
.

“Is it or isn't it, Verofaza?” Perena's smile was inviting.

There's nothing to be lost and everything to gain.
Take the initiative!
“Er, yes. I mean,
definitely
.”

Perena touched his hand, then sighed as she withdrew hers. “Normally, I would be delighted to explore that offer of a deeper friendship between us. But now?” She exhaled heavily and her face acquired an expression in which conern and hope seemed mixed. “Do you mind if I walk on my own? I want to think about what you just said.”

This is going wrong.
Vero felt near despair
. I shouldn't have said it
.
Wrong place, wrong time. Probably wrong planet.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to say anything. I'm just overwhelmed by things. I know that's not a very good reason for expressing an interest.” He stared at a tree trunk. “It's probably the worst reason there can be.”
I dug myself into a hole
and I need to dig myself out.

“Don't, Vero,” Perena said gently. “Don't apologize. There are far worse reasons. But in the meantime, I need to think and pray.”

“You're right. And I too.”

He watched her slim, lithe frame walk away with a brisk and steady pace. Then he put his head in his hands and asked for wisdom, clarity, and courage for them both. But he knew that beneath his words, he really asked for what he desired to be granted.
I'm giving God orders
. He rebuked himself. But he kept praying and as he did, he slowly saw beyond his own wishes. Soon the answer was plain.

“I'd better get back to work,” he said aloud. Taking out his diary, he began making notes on matters to do with organization and structure for the FDF.

Twenty minutes later, he looked up and Perena was there. With a single fluid motion, she sat on the grass next to him.

“So, have you saved the world yet, Vero?” she asked. Her levity seemed artificial. Indeed, she looked as if she had been crying.

“Not yet, Miss P. I have other things on my mind.” Face-to-face with her, he felt his resolve slipping.

Perena gave a tiny nod. “Vero—,” she began.

“No, let me,” he interrupted, wanting to get the words out before he could think the better of them. “I'm not sure the time is right for . . . anything more between us.”
There! I've said it!

He saw the relief on her face.

“Ah,” she said slowly. “My conclusion, most reluctantly, was the same—that we should just be good friends. The best of friends . . . but no more. For the moment.”

“This just isn't my day, is it? Nor the last
two
days. First, I lose my lift home, and now I get my hopes dashed.” He knew his attempts at humor seemed artificial. The sadness was too near the surface. “But I'm not going to argue. It's what I felt. I'm lonely and—to be honest—I'm scared and a relationship with you would brighten my life. But that's not the right reason, is it?”

“No,” she said. “But a pity. I was hoping you would argue me into it.” But in her eyes he saw a warning:
Don't try!

Perena took a deep breath and leaned forward, hugging her knees. “I think we have to bear in mind that our world is now unstable. Sin has crept back and relationships are being distorted. I don't really understand what happened with my sister and Merral. In some ways I don't want to know. That's their business. But it indicates the way things are going. If what happened can happen to them, then it can happen between us. We never used to worry about such things; we assumed it would all work out. We need to be careful. Do I make myself plain?”

“Yes.”

“There's something else. The day before yesterday, perhaps twenty-five people died to seize that ship. We thought its destruction was the end; we now know it may be the beginning of problems to come.” She breathed deeply, as if in pain. “Vero, they made a sacrifice. I don't know if I'm expressing this well, but . . . but we may have to do the same. We must be realistic. If there is an attack—a proper attack—then we pilots will bear the brunt of it. We can maybe muster a dozen ships that might be used in any space defense. And twenty, maybe thirty pilots.”

With no armor—and so far—no weapons.

“And if that is what lies ahead,” she went on, “then it's going to be hard, because I love life. But if I was committed to someone, it might be almost impossible to do what I might have to do.”

Vero looked at the grass.
It's a good way of hiding your feelings
.

“One of the things . . . ,” he began, then realized that the words he started to say bore little resemblance to the painful intensity of what he felt. “Let's start again. One of the things that I really like about you, Perena, is your ability to see beyond surface things.”

“And I admire your ingenuity.”

“It's a dangerous gift.” He paused.
I have to respond to what she has said
. “P., Perena, the only problem is . . . the way you've said it and the way that you've handled things has increased, rather than decreased, the attraction I feel for you.”

“Sorry.”

“But when it's all over, can we reconsider?”

“When it's all over?” She smiled. “Yes. But not until. . . . We might be old by then.”

Or dead
. Vero sat back against the tree.
Work is a good cure for a frustrated love affair, and I've got plenty of work
.

“Okay,” he said. “Let's put it behind us.”

“Agreed. But not without sadness.”

There was a protracted silence that seem filled with regret.

Finally, Perena shook herself. “To work. Do you have any bright ideas about saving us from further intruders?”

“I'm hoping for some clues from the various reports—Merral's especially. But we need an army, P.” He hesitated. “It's not easy to make one of those. So, you think more intruders will get through any defenses that we can come up with in space?”

“More than likely. We might take out 5 percent of an attack force if we're lucky. But no more.”

“So they'll end up in orbit around us. Is it possible that they'll just blast us into dust using nuclear weapons or even a polyvalent fusion bomb?”

Perena gazed eastward across the greenery of the park before answering. “It's possible. We know so little about them. And from the nastiness on the ship Merral hinted at, we can't rule it out. But I don't think it's likely. It's a hunch, that's all.”

“Explain.”

“We've scanned the worlds beyond ours. There is no other star system that has any indication of anything other than a trace of water. Not for at least three hundred light-years. At that point we lose resolution. This place—” she gestured to the trees and the grass—“is valuable. Good planets are hard to find.”

“So they might try and occupy us?”

“The most likely scenario.”

Occupation
.
A word I have met in many documents having to do with war. Occupation, though, was sometimes defeated by resistance. I must do some studying fast.

Vero became aware that Perena was watching him. “Thanks, P. You've helped me.”

“I can't see how.”

As he rose, she followed, carefully brushing a few strands of grass off her clothes.

“P., can you take me to Planetary Affairs? I need to start some things going. Gather my aides. But the first step is to see Corradon in his office. There is work to do.”

“Of course.”

“I gather there are offices already being made ready for Merral and the FDF. But I need some space. Preferably private. . . . Yes, hidden. Somewhere in the city. Any ideas?”

“What's wrong with the Walderand water project site you used before?”

“It's too far and it's an obvious target.”

“How many people are you thinking of?”

“Maybe a hundred.”

“Talk to the city engineers.” Perena gestured toward the buildings that were the heart of Isterrane. “This is the first city. Do you understand what that means?”

“Only that it was here that the first settlement on the planet was founded. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh, Earther—” he heard amusement in her voice—“you people don't understand the Made Worlds, do you?”

“Explain.”

“When Farholme was settled, oh, around three thousand years ago, it was so inhospitable that, as with all Made Worlds, the first city was built underground. And then, as the stabilization of Farholme progressed, a new city was built on top of the first one.”

“You mean there is an old city beneath this one?”
It sounds too good to be true
.

“Well, maybe a lot of old tunnels and chambers. That's all I know. Every few years there are trips down to the foundations for the curious. I've never been.”

“Right. I'll get a guided tour. Thanks for the information.”

As they walked slowly on to the vehicle Vero said, “Talking of defense, I worry about Merral.”

“He seems able to take care of himself. But why?”

“It seems he only went on that ship because the envoy told him to. But it was very dangerous. And the point is he has become a hero. He was a hero to his soldiers the day before yesterday. They're already talking as if he single-handedly destroyed the ship. And after Corradon's speech, he is now a hero to the whole planet.”

“Yes, that's true. A world that needs a hero has found one in Merral.”

“In the last war, the Assembly forces had Lucas Ringell. We have Merral D'Avanos.”

“That puts him under awful pressure. We must pray for him,” Perena said with a shake of the head that conveyed both concern and unease. “Incidentally, I think we ought to try and see if we can sort out whatever happened with Anya. It's a complication we can do without. They need to be able to work together. I'll talk to her; you talk to him.”

“I will. But look, to get back to his safety, the fact is that we can't afford to lose him. He is absolutely invaluable as a leader. And, also, we need to protect him from the crowds of people who are now going to want to see him.”

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