Saga of Shadows 1: The Dark Between the Stars (51 page)

Nevertheless, Anton had rushed the designs to Adar Zan’nh, who turned them over to his military engineers for study. The Solar Navy would begin building and testing prototypes right away.

For an eager historian, however, there was so much more to learn.

He and Dyvo’sh continued to unearth and catalogue the densely etched crystal sheets. The young assistant worked at his side, and excitement sent a flush of color into the lobes of the young assistant’s face each time he found some obscure mention of the Shana Rei.

Among the apocryphal documents, Anton found a bizarre and disturbing sketch of a shapeless black blot, like an ink stain that featured a central staring eye. Surrealistic certainly, meant to evoke a primal fear, but even the stylized representation gave him a chill.

The translation summaries would keep the Hall of Rememberers busy for years to come. Scholarly careers would be built around some of these apocryphal records, academic squabbles would flare up—but Anton brushed those thoughts aside. He had left that petty professorial life behind, and he didn’t care about the politics of academia.

But he couldn’t read everything himself, and so he had to set priorities for himself and for the rememberer kith. It was difficult to choose! He read until his neck ached and his shoulders were stiff and his eyes felt as if they might fall out of their sockets. He couldn’t stay awake all the time.

“I need coffee,” he told his assistant Dyvo’sh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good strong cup.”

“What is coffee?” asked the young rememberer.

It was just an offhand comment. “A human beverage—it’s delicious and stimulating.”

“I understand,” Dyvo’sh said. “Like kirae.”

Anton remembered the one and only time he had tasted the Ildiran beverage. “No, not like kirae. Not at all.” Then he brightened, realizing that he could possibly find a cup after all. “We’ll have to go to the human enclave.”

He had always intended to visit the human district to see the shops and art galleries, eat the food, and sit at one of the cafés . . . the things that he had never appreciated in his years on Earth. On Ildira, Anton constantly immersed himself in his work, so a trip to the human district had never reached the top of his priority list. Now, however, he felt a sudden longing. He picked up a stack of restored documents to take with him. “Come along, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

He left instructions with Ildiran scholars who continued to comb through the recovered documents. The rememberers would sort out any records that mentioned the creatures of darkness, and Anton would review them himself.

Before he and Dyvo’sh left the Hall of Rememberers, Anton reminded the studious Ildirans who hunched over well-lit tables, scanning one document after another, “I want any legends, stories, anecdotes. We found the sun bomb plans—there must be more ideas waiting to be uncovered. As for the rest of the documents . . .” He let out a long sigh. “We’ll just have to read those at some later date. We’ve got enough to keep us busy for a long, long time.”

Anton had no idea how Yazra’h knew he was about to head across the city, but she was waiting for him when he and Dyvo’sh exited the Hall of Rememberers. She stood in all her intimidating beauty, wearing fine-scale armor with a crystal dagger at her hip. “I will escort you, Rememberer Anton, in case the streets are dangerous.”

He chuckled. “It’s Mijistra. How could it be dangerous?”

She tossed her long hair. “Nevertheless, I will escort you. What is your destination?”

“The human district. Join us for a cup of coffee.” Since she seemed stuck on the idea, Anton didn’t argue, but let her lead the way. “We’re searching for any tidbit, but since the Saga of Seven Suns is over a billion lines long and the lost documents are at least ten times that—finding a relevant passage is an extraordinary task.”

Yazra’h did not seem to envy his work. “That is a battle you must win for yourself, Rememberer Anton. Have you learned how I can fight the Shana Rei?”

“I’m looking for how the Solar Navy and the Confederation Defense Forces can fight them. Adar Zan’nh and the CDF are about to engage in more war-game exercises, but I doubt their traditional maneuvers will be useful against the creatures of darkness. First I have to separate the legends from the genuine historical events. By all accounts, the Shana Rei are fearsome opponents.”

She gave a gruff nod. “Then I look forward to fighting them.”

When they reached the section of the city settled by human expatriates, Anton smiled at the familiar architecture, the open shops, and the business banners, and the outdoor tables. It reminded him of the university district on Earth where he had spent so many years.

He heard music from some kind of old-fashioned instrument, pleasant tones played by someone who knew what he was doing. A middle-aged couple displayed ornamental clay pots they had glazed themselves. Another craft shop offered yarn soul-catchers strung with sparkling crystals. The milieu itself was enough to reenergize Anton after his long hours in the Hall of Rememberers. Then he smelled the coffee—a rich, roasted essence that was unlike any traditional Ildiran beverage. It was so strong that even the aroma seemed to contain caffeine.

He claimed an outdoor table and yanked out chairs for his two companions. A fascinated Dyvo’sh continued looking around, particularly interested in the soul-catchers. He tapped one with a finger, and the inset crystal caught the light as it rotated.

When the café owner came out, Anton greeted her with a grin. “Large coffee for me, please, with a dollop of cream. My friends will each have one, too.”

Dyvo’sh took a seat next to him, copying Anton’s every move, like an apprentice. Yazra’h remained standing until Anton insisted that she take a seat.

The café owner was a Rubenesque woman with cool blue eyes and curly ash-blond hair. “I’ll brew it fresh,” she said. They were apparently the only customers in the district. She glanced at Yazra’h and Dyvo’sh. “I’ll bring some condensed milk as well. Ildirans tend to like it sweet.”

When she delivered the coffee, Anton wrapped both hands around his cup, savoring the smell before he sipped and let out a sigh. Dyvo’sh mimicked his every move, took a sip, and struggled to control his grimace.

Yazra’h was brave and took a gulp, but the coffee didn’t appeal to her either. “It is potent,” was the best she could say.

Anton looked around the empty café. “Not many customers? I suppose Ildirans don’t come back for coffee once they’ve tried it.”

“We’re all hurting,” said the café owner. She glanced around. Several blocks away, the streets of Mijistra were filled with bustling Ildirans, but the human district seemed isolated, as if shunned. “The Mage-Imperator visited not long ago, encouraged Ildirans to do business with us—and that lasted for about a day.”

The art gallery owner came over and took an empty seat beside them. “It wasn’t always like that. We were at least curiosities, but something’s changed.”

Anton took another sip of his coffee and made up his mind to come back here as often as possible. “Why would customers avoid the whole district?”

“Nobody knows. Maybe we did something to insult them.” The café owner brought him a refill. Dyvo’sh and Yazra’h did not need one. Dyvo’sh added some sweetened condensed milk at the woman’s suggestion, and he seemed to tolerate it better.

Anton recalled how he had suffered censure from the Ildirans years ago when he pointed out errors in the Saga of Seven Suns. “With all the new archive crypts being opened and mountains of new documents revealed, there’ll surely be more turmoil.”

Yazra’h frowned. “The turmoil is not caused by the human enclave.”

“Well, Ildirans shouldn’t be afraid of what the rememberers find—we’re just making the history accurate.”

“They are not afraid of the history,” Yazra’h said. “It is the
Shana Rei
. They fear the shadows are coming again.”

Dyvos’h seemed very nervous. “Perhaps it would have been best if all those stories remained hidden. Then the Shana Rei might not have returned.”

Anton scoffed. “It has nothing to do with cause and effect. You shouldn’t fear reading old records.”

“They are the darkness,” Dyvo’sh said. “Of course, we fear them.”

Anton had never understood the irrational Ildiran fear of the dark, but it was an integral (perhaps even pathological) part of their being. Yazra’h, who was one of the bravest people he had ever met, shook her head. “Even though Ildirans are surrounded by light, we understand the power of dark, and we know that its tendrils can slip in anywhere.”

She defiantly finished her coffee, as if going to battle against the taste. “If the Shana Rei have indeed returned, we must know how to fight them. Sun bombs? Then we must build them! It will not be a traditional military effort. The creatures of darkness can strike everywhere and at any time.” Then she looked at him with absolute confidence. “You will help us understand, Rememberer Anton.”

Anton could see that Yazra’h was deadly serious. He sipped his coffee again, but it had gone cold.

S
EVENTY-SEVEN

E
XXOS

The shadow cloud appeared in the dusty skies of Eljiid, roiling out of the vacuum like smoke burning through the fabric of space.

Because they were not part of the same universe and did not follow the same physical rules, the shadow clouds could creep like spiders through the back alleys of the cosmos, slipping through cracks created by the minds of living things—fears, doubts, pain.

To Exxos, this was merely an unimportant Klikiss world, but one that would serve the black robots’ purposes. And it was a place to start, an appropriate demonstration. Working with the Shana Rei, the robots would wreak great havoc, cause destruction, increase entropy . . . decrease the shadows’ pain.

He was surprised, but not disappointed, to discover that a small group of humans had established a settlement there—not a full colony, just a research group studying the old Klikiss ruins like carrion birds sampling a corpse. That was even better; human treachery had caused the near extinction of the robots, and Exxos hated them almost as much as he and his comrades hated their creator race.
Almost
as much.

When the ominous dark nebula arrived over the Eljiid settlement, the humans began transmitting frantic signals: first inquiries, then indignant demands, followed by pleas for mercy, and finally an unasked-for surrender. Exxos listened to it all but did not respond. The Shana Rei did not care, were content to absorb the confusion and growing dread.

Exxos and his robots moved about in ships made from new matter the Shana Rei had manifested, simply rearranging energy in the universe to create what was necessary. When insisting on his plan to demonstrate their destructive prowess here, Exxos had convinced the shadow creatures to recreate the six vessels his comrades had built at the Dhula moon—along with certain improvements.

He had studied the Shana Rei enough to understand a few basics.
Creating
went against their fundamental nature, and only seemed to make the creatures of darkness more irrational and incomprehensible, but Exxos persuaded them to fight against their instincts. A temporary expenditure of entropy here for a larger benefit soon. He was glad to have warships again, and he knew he could cause satisfying damage to Eljiid. He would make sure the Shana Rei valued the exchange, and would agree to do it again when he suggested it elsewhere.

It meant the creatures of darkness had been intrigued enough by his bluff that they would keep the robots alive . . . for now.

As the shadow cloud grew larger overhead, the Shana Rei manifested their own huge battleships, despite the terrible pain it caused them. The dark nebula opened like a midnight flower, and Shana Rei ships emerged into real space: ebony hexagonal cylinders, long rods with flat sides and sharp angles. The creatures screamed into the silence and suffered the act of creation, doing as Exxos told them. Three of the hexagon ships were sufficient for a relatively minor target such as Eljiid.

By comparison, the black robot warships looked like little more than gnats, but Exxos and his robots raced out to begin the attack on Eljiid. He was eager to prove that the robots were worthy, valuable allies. Together, they could erase all the annoyances of sentient life here . . . and, eventually, everywhere else.

The screaming of the Shana Rei grew louder, and Exxos knew he had to strike swiftly. The creatures of darkness wanted to snap back into the void, where they could recover from the agony they had inflicted upon themselves.

The black robot ships swooped down, strafing the human camp with energy weapons, ripping up tents and settlement modules. Some researchers ran scrambling toward the Klikiss transportal, hoping to activate the stone wall and escape through the gateway back to Rheindic Co. But they didn’t have the opportunity.

The robots bombarded the area until it was a glassy molten field. The transportal itself was more durable and required six overflights and heavy blasts before the trapezoidal wall came down as well. No one would be able to depart from Eljiid now.

Exxos took pride in showing the Shana Rei what his robots could do, and the creatures of darkness were satisfied to eliminate even this small cluster of intelligent life, which eased the clamor in the universe by a small degree.

Although the Shana Rei cooperated, they considered this an insignificant part of the battle. They were aware of an even more titanic sentience that terrified them, made them feel helpless, but Exxos didn’t understand it. The shadow creatures claimed something tremendously powerful was awakening in the cosmos. It had maddened and provoked the Shana Rei, driving them out of hiding. Whatever it was, Exxos felt sure he could help them destroy it . . . or at least he and his robots could survive until the Shana Rei themselves were destroyed. If the tides of battle shifted, maybe the robots would find a way to ally themselves with this powerful new force. Exxos would keep his plans flexible.

The Shana Rei were chaos incarnate, violent but disorganized, and could not develop long-term plans. Exxos, though, could create much more intricate schemes, look at an overall strategy. He had convinced the Shana Rei to fear, or at least respect, the robots. While drifting in the black void, Exxos had proposed grand schemes, extolling how his robots could assist the shadow creatures in obliterating life. He made up more extravagant lies.