Saga of Shadows 1: The Dark Between the Stars (70 page)

He realized he should not have been so aggressive initially. Even without being pressed, the woman had offered to give him the data she had compiled. He should have accepted her files so that at least he had something to bring back to Pergamus. Then he could have found a way to take her blood as well.

It did no good to second-guess what he should have done.

He continued to scour the asteroid field. The disease would be worsening. Orli Covitz was going to die soon, and Tom Rom had to find her.

O
NE HUNDRED AND EIGHT

A
RITA

Arita used Sarein’s isolated hiveworm dwelling as a base and spent her days wandering out in the Wild, collecting samples, exploring—and leaving her reclusive aunt alone. The more time they spent together, though, the more intriguing and mysterious Arita found her.

Sarein still didn’t know how to react to having a stranger living with her. Arita had come over to the Wild fully intending to work in solitude, but she had hoped to hear her aunt’s stories about the Hansa and the Elemental War. Sarein had actually been a Theron ambassador trying to build bridges between the isolated and independent forest world and the Terran Hanseatic League!

Arita sensed that if she talked too much, Sarein would ask her to leave. Her aunt seemed to be looking for an excuse to grow annoyed with her, so Arita did not give her one. In the evenings, after coming back from her explorations, Arita didn’t ask questions or try to strike up conversations.

Every day she ranged farther and farther, returning to the hiveworm nest and the small sleeping area Sarein allowed her. As if inspired by her visitor, Sarein had turned her focus to her writing with a renewed vigor, adding extensive sections to her chronicle/confession. Sometimes after dark Sarein went back to her input pad and wrote for hours, glancing up occasionally at Arita as she catalogued her daily samples. Twice, Arita even heard Sarein humming while preoccupied, before the older woman caught herself and fell silent again, turning back to her writing.

One night Arita sat on the branch balcony outside the hiveworm nest and listened to the chirping, humming, simmering sounds of the worldforest after dark. She saw skirling lights, like a mobile constellation, and realized it was a small firefly swarm moving in an intricate ballet; some flew straight up through a gap in the trees, like shooting stars in reverse.

She was startled when Sarein came out to sit on the branch next to her and stared up at the sky visible through the high ceiling of fronds. “There’s so much out there, so many planets. . . . But I’m happy to be here now.”

Arita longed to start a conversation, but wasn’t sure whether or not she’d be successful. “I’ve been to many worlds myself, but I tend to choose isolated ones where I can do my work. On Eljiid, there were Klikiss ruins and a species of cactus that seemed to communicate. They’re called Whistlers.”

Sarein nodded. “When I was your age, I wanted to go away from Theroc too, but I set my sights on Earth. Theron was backward then—I was embarrassed by my own home. We had our green priests and forests, but Father Idriss and Mother Alexa refused to allow trading with the Hansa. I wanted to change all that. I thought it would benefit everyone if we could open commerce—sell worldforest products in Hansa markets, and welcome traders, settlers, visitors, tourists. On Earth, I’d seen the Hansa headquarters, the Whisper Palace, the Chairman himself. Back then, I had so much power, such influence. . . .”

Sarein frowned. “In the end, I achieved everything I wanted, but success wasn’t all I thought it would be.” She continued to stare at the stars. “And when I understood myself better, it brought me back here, full circle.” Though Sarein’s face was in shadow, Arita could see a wistful, forlorn look. Her aunt’s voice was barely a whisper. “Ah, Basil, I’m not even sure how I feel about you anymore.”

Sarein caught herself and stood up quickly. She looked disturbed by her thoughts. “I’m tired. You can stay out here longer, if you like.”

Arita was sure she had broken a thin barrier. Maybe from now on her aunt would give less clipped answers to general questions. Maybe she’d even enjoy Arita’s company, after a fashion. . . .

Before Sarein went to bed, Arita called to her, “Is that why you’re letting me stay here? Because I remind you of yourself when you were my age?”

Sarein answered with an odd laugh. “No. It’s because you don’t.”

O
NE HUNDRED AND NINE

K
ING
P
ETER

The
Kutuzov
and five other CDF ships arrived at Ildira, where they were met by Solar Navy warliners. General Keah’s flagship had been fully repaired by ambitious crewmembers during the flight carrying King Peter and Queen Estarra, though the hull still showed scarring from the robot and Shana Rei attacks at Plumas. Peter suspected that Keah viewed the marks as a matter of pride, and he noted that some of the colorful Ildiran battleships also showed signs of the recent combat.

On the Juggernaut’s bridge, General Keah turned to Peter and Estarra. “Once the Solar Navy delivers the designs for their sun bombs and laser missiles, I’ll make sure our weapons engineers put them into production at the Lunar Orbital Complex. Maybe our scientists can modify them, intensify them. But they’ll be starting the manufacturing from scratch.”

“Let’s hope we have them ready before the Shana Rei show themselves again,” Peter said.

“I’d rather they didn’t show themselves at all, Sire,” Keah said with a hard smile. “I suppose that’s not an option. We don’t have enough data yet to understand how to fight those things.”

“The Ildirans have more historical records,” Estarra said. “We’ll learn everything we can.”

The General lifted her chin. “You two and the Mage-Imperator can discuss the background and the ramifications. Adar Zan’nh and I will come up with a strategy.”

As their shuttle left the orbiting
Kutuzov
and descended through the bright atmosphere, forty-nine small streamers zipped past them in a flashy escort. One of the giant warliners even accompanied them down toward the Prism Palace. “The Ildirans always manage to find time for pomp and ceremony,” Peter said with a wry smile.

Keah opened the comm and said conversationally, “You’re such a showoff, Z.”

“Merely demonstrating our capabilities, General. Welcome to Ildira.”

When their shuttle landed at the Prism Palace, the escort streamers looped up and away, performing aerial acrobatics, their reflective hulls glittering in the sunshine. Adar Zan’nh emerged from his streamer and stood ready to accompany them. “When we begin our conversations, only essential personnel will be present,” he said, then lowered his voice. “And guards. We have had recent . . . security issues.”

Through the green priest network, Peter and Estarra knew about the bizarre assassination attempts against Nira. General Keah piped up, “We’ll have our own security detail as well. Just to be sure.”

Soldier kith marched out in a grand parade, and Ildiran nobles and bureaucrats ushered them through the crystal arches into the Prism Palace. Peter saw (but was not surprised) that the “essential personnel” included nearly seventy courtiers, military officers, trade ministers, rememberers, and some Ildiran kiths he could not identify, as well as Mage-Imperator Jora’h, the green priest Nira, and the scholar Anton Colicos. Numerous armed guard kith stood at attention, alert for danger . . . and seemed to be watching one another just as closely, as if they didn’t know where the threat might arise.

Estarra glanced around the crowded meeting room. “I was hoping we’d see Prince Reynald.”

Nira answered, “He and Osira’h may join us soon.”

Mage-Imperator Jora’h sat in his chrysalis chair, ignoring the gathered attendees and addressing the King and Queen. “You are our allies, and we face an enemy that may be greater than both of our civilizations combined. We need to share old fragments of our history that we thought—or hoped—were nothing more than legends. Our rememberers have been trying to learn as much as possible about the Shana Rei—where they come from and how they attack.”

General Keah, sitting at the table to the left of King Peter, said, “If I may, Sire? We know that one of those shadow clouds appeared near the Dhula moon after we discovered the Klikiss robot infestation. Something similar erupted from the clouds of Golgen and destroyed a Roamer skymine
after defeating the hydrogues there.
” She let the significance of that hang for a moment; everyone remembered how nearly invincible the hydrogues had been. “Another shadow cloud appeared at Plumas and kicked our butts. We don’t know what other targets they might have hit.”

Adar Zan’nh added, “Our exploration ship
Kolpraxa
also encountered the Shana Rei. Every crewmember was lost—except for Tal Gale’nh.”

He indicated a strikingly pale young man who sat quietly at one of the discussion tables. His vibrant and colorful Solar Navy uniform only seemed to emphasize his unnatural pallor. His drained appearance sent a shiver down Peter’s spine.

Mage-Imperator Jora’h said, “We do not know exactly how he survived. Gale’nh is a halfbreed, Nira’s son by Adar Kori’nh. His mind is different from any Ildiran’s or human’s.”

“We encountered the Shana Rei in the emptiness and they engulfed my ship,” said the pale officer. “Something pushed them out of their dark void, and now they are coming back to find us.”

“Worse, they’ve teamed up with the bugbots,” General Keah said, disgust heavy in her voice. “Their stated goal is to exterminate all sentient life in the Spiral Arm.”

Peter looked around, trying to focus the meeting. “I’m afraid we need to begin with even more basic information. Where do the Shana Rei come from, and why do they hate Ildirans so much? What initiated this conflict?” He knew all too well how humans had accidentally provoked the hydrogues.

Jora’h said, “Rememberer Anton Colicos, please enlighten us.”

The human historian wore rememberer robes. He cleared his throat, nervously brushing a hand through his gray-flecked hair. “That’s an ironic turn of phrase, Mage-Imperator. I’ll
enlighten
you about the creatures of darkness.” He grinned at his joke but no one laughed.

“Rememberers have been inventorying sealed chambers filled with ancient records.” He rearranged crystalline sheets on the table surface and pulled up an image on filmpaper. It was strange and surrealistic, a Rorschach blot of black ink in the center of which gleamed a baleful eye. “This is how the Shana Rei are depicted in the old documents we recently uncovered.” He showed it around, and the Ildirans muttered with great unease.

Anton continued with growing excitement. “Recently we made a remarkable discovery, uncovering an entire archive of prior weapon developments and tests from ancient times. We call it the Vault of Failures—records of every design that Ildiran scientists tried and discarded during the previous conflict. Some ingenious ideas there.”

Zan’nh frowned. “If they are all failures, how is that a useful discovery?”

Keah understood, though. “It saves us the trouble of doing all the development. We can avoid dead ends, maybe modify some of the experiments. That gives us a big head start. We have the sun bombs, but this might lead to something different. Maybe better.”

Anton nodded. “Yes, that’s what I thought. The vault is filled with meticulous records, years and years worth of research, designs, tests, data. When the Shana Rei were defeated, a later Mage-Imperator buried all that information, assuming it was too frightening and no longer relevant. But
we
can use it. I’ve got five rememberers in the vault now, cataloguing and sorting.”

“The CDF could use copies of everything,” General Keah said. “Let’s get up to speed even while we build an arsenal of those sun bombs.”

“But how were you able to defeat the Shana Rei before?” King Peter asked.

Anton said, “The Ildirans formed an alliance with the faeros. A Mage-Imperator had resorted to extreme measures to get their attention.”

“How do you get the attention of the faeros?” General Keah asked. “By banging on pots and pans?”

Jora’h answered in a grim voice. “Mage-Imperator Xiba’h burned himself alive, and his dying scream through the
thism
was enough to draw them.”

“Oh.”

“I can summon the faeros—I think.”

Peter turned to see an exotic young woman enter the chamber.

“Sometimes I communicate with them.”

Nira smiled and said, “Our daughter Osira’h.”

Prince Reyn accompanied the young woman, and Estarra sat up straighter when she saw her son. Peter thought Reyn looked tired and weak.

Osira’h joined them at the discussion table. “I can open myself up to them. Maybe they will remember the Shana Rei from before.”

Her halfbreed brother Rod’h entered the chamber, close on his sister’s heels. “I could summon the faeros as well. I have the same power.”

He seemed to be challenging Osira’h, but she smiled at him. “We can do it together.”

When the Mage-Imperator declared a break so they could be served a meal, Reyn came over to his parents wearing an uncertain smile. Osira’h walked close beside him, brushing against his arm.

Estarra gave her son a hug and drew back. “We’ve missed you, Reyn . . . but you don’t look well. Are you tired?”

Peter had noticed a lack of energy in his son for the past several months, but his weariness now looked more pronounced. “I think you’re homesick. We need to get you back to Theroc, where you can recover.”

Reyn seemed nervous, as if he had something important to say, and Osira’h gave him an encouraging nod.

“I’m not homesick . . . and it’s not caused by anything here. I’ve already seen the best medical experts on Theroc, Earth, and Ildira. I wanted a different answer before I said anything, but now . . .”

Osira’h leaned closer to him.

Reyn said, “I’ve got something to tell you.”