Seeds of Earth (53 page)

Again the disorientation, senses gyring, the pause, the vertigo surge, and that momentary impression of coming to a dead stop without the slam of deceleration. Drazuma-Ha* hung before the console in silence while his field aura shimmered with arrays and streams of ghost symbols and the main console flickered with waves of computation.

'So, Drazuma-Ha*, what did you do to attract such relentless pursuit?'

'Simply put, Gowchee, I am their enemy.'

He frowned. 'You'll forgive me for saying so but that sounds more serious than a bad debt.'

'They have their purpose and I have mine, which is to prevent an ancient, terrible weapon from falling into the hands of their masters.'

Kao Chih listened in amazement and growing annoyance. 'You lied to me, right from the start... and who are these droids' masters? And who are you working for?'

'This explication is straining your credulity, Gowchee. Perhaps I should say no more.'

'I would rather you continued.'

'Very well, although I can only offer my word that I am speaking the truth. The droids pursuing us are emissaries of the Legion of Avatars, a long-forgotten enemy of civilisation, and I am an agent of a machine intelligence called the Construct.'

'And what's this weapon ...'

'A fearsome device built millennia ago on the world you call Darien ... ah, wait, look!'

On the long-range scanner, the freighter appeared 1,332 kilometres away and immediately started moving towards the
Castellan.

They jumped again.

The sequence of events was repeated four times, while the droids' ravaged, mutilated ship continued to dog them, their exit point coming closer and closer. As Kao Chih stared at the sensor sweep holo, where a tagged symbol denoting the freighter had just winked into existence 495 kilometres away, he said:

'Drazuma-Ha*, this cannot continue - anothe two jumps and they may have us.'

'I agree, but our options are limited,' the mech said. 'Therefore I propose that we employ the same tactic that led us into the deepzone.'

Kao Chih stared at the mech, still trying to come to terms with the earlier revelations. 'Er, dropping out of hyperspace partway through the jump?'

'Exactly so, Gowchee. My hypothesis is that our pursuers drop a beacon-probe in hyperspace just before exiting to our position in normal space. When we make our next jump the beacon analyses our vessel's multifield burst and deduces the jump course and duration, which are passed on to the droids, probably via subspace link. I am now merging new course data for a longer jump in the direction of Darien's possible location - I plan to disengage the hyperdrive a quarter of the way into the jump. Does that meet with your approval?'

'It does, Drazuma-Ha*,' he said, eyeing the sensor holo in which the freighter's distance was down to 120 kilometres and closing. 'I suggest that we leave now.'

The mech's reply was to engage the hyperdrive. Minutes later they emerged into normal space, the paleblue console holo lighting up as the sensor came back online. And Kao Chih groaned when he saw the glittering symbol of a ship sitting there, out at 1,081 kilometres.

'They got here ahead of us! - how could they possibly

'Calm yourself, Gowchee - it is not them but
another
vessel entirely, a cloud-harvester.'

He sat up, loosening the couch straps a little, trying to contain his excitement as he peered into the holo.

'It is at rest, Drazuma-Ha *. It couldn't be abandoned, could it, or a wreck?'

'No, its emissions curve indicate that it is functioning nominally with an active ident that says it is the Harvester
Viganli.
The most likely reason for it being stationary would be a pause for refining or repairs.'

'I cannot help but notice that we too are stationary, rather than heading towards the harvester,' Kao Chih said.

'We must wait to see if our tactic has worked,' said the mech. 'It has been one minute since our arrival - we should make sure that we have evaded them.'

Vexed, Kao Chih, could only agree, then settle down to gaze at the console's shiptime counter. A minute passed with infuriating slowness and the next few went no faster. After ten languid minutes Drazuma-Ha * decided that the tactic had succeeded and started the thrusters, laying in a course for the
Viganli.

'We seem to be proceeding at a somewhat leisurely pace, Drazuma-Ha*,' said Kao Chih, still disgruntled.

'It will reassure the harvester's crew or command AI that we have no aggressive intentions. Covering this distance should take just under an hour.'

'Sufficient time for you to tell me about your mission to Darien?'

'I am sure that it would be, Gowchee.'

'Excellent, now tell me about your boss, this Construct...'

52

ROBERT

At last - the Great Terrace, a title which by no means did it justice. As he followed the three mechs-Reski out of the low, lamplit cavern (into which the tunnel from Abfagul had led) he thought he heard the rushing sound of strong winds, a shuddering, sky-filling roar. Then the cavern opened out to show him that they stood, insectlike, at the edge of an edifice of incomparable grandeur.

Lit by pearly light from far above, an immense stone promenade about 100 yards across extended from a high bank out over the white, hazy curve of a waterfall. This was fed by numerous sources arriving from further back, rivers and streams that gushed in from many directions, splashing among mist-blurred rocks, down over ledges and runnels and levels of pools that gave forth their own lesser cascades. Except that both the promenade and the falls stretched off into the distance for perhaps a mile, matching the hundreds if not thousands of inflows that coursed down an immense, boulder-strewn slope where little clumps of trees and bushes stood like pale ghosts amongst the surging streams. At the far side, rock walls soared up and up, pale, sheer, rising to heights obscured by the pure white light that poured down from what might be a long fissure in the vast cavern's veiled ceiling.

'This is . . . incredible,' he said. Next to this, the Gangradur Falls were like a decorative garden water feature. 'Who built this?'

'A race called the Teziyi,' said Track-Reski. 'They were very fond of statement projects like this.'

'Did they build other things on this scale?'

'Several just after the fall of their universe, while their species still had the will and the resources.'

Robert frowned - the mechs were sticking to their stratified universe fantasy. Very well, then he would observe and deduce for himself.

The flat expanse of the Great Terrace was largely deserted, apart from a few far-off figures standing along the balustrade in ones, twos or small groups. As he followed the mechs he began to notice more details, the small buildings constructed along the side overlooking the falls, the basket balloons that hung out over the hurtling torrents and were winched in from time to time to offload sightseers and take on new groups. As for the other promenaders, few were bipeds, never mind even vaguely humanoid, the majority being insectile or reptilian, with occasional hybrids and frequent cyberaugments. More than a few gave Robert and the mechs disapproving looks, but he was scarcely concerned about that as he was leaning on the balustrade, gazing down in disbelief.

The curved mile-long falls plunged several hundred feet to a small lake where tiny, sailless boats and galleys sculled about. Further on the lake narrowed a little to where another imposing promenade spanned the waters as they rushed over another brink to another
bridged
falls and another after that. The moisture-laden air hazed the distant downward depths and Robert's mind reeled as he tried to imagine the scale of it. Doubt crept in and nibbled at the roots of his assumptions - how could something like this exist on Darien but not show up on the
Heracles's
orbital sensor sweep? Were the mechs telling the truth?

As he stood there, wondering, a red dart shape shot out from under the promenade some way along, wheeled over the hazy spray then swooped and banked, descending. A glider, he realised as he saw another launch out over the falls.

'Human Horst,' said Tripod-Reski, 'we have received a message from Conveyance 289, asking to meet us at the lower level. We must hurry - there is a ramp nearby'

'There is another level?' Robert said, hurrying after them.

'Three,' said Hover-Reski.

'They were originally made for the worker dorms and materials storage,' Track-Reski said. 'When the construction was complete, they were closed up and forgotten as the survivors of the great Teziyi civilisation took up residence, here and elsewhere. That final era began in defiance but ended amid forgotten purposes and cultural senescence. The last of the Teziyi finally abandoned their cities, leaving no records when they either transcended or were consumed. Then the remnants of other lesser civilisations wandered down here to settle, opening some of the lower levels where refugees could find a place to rest. Communities grew, vendors found customers, and a few finessers even have set up glider stations...'

'This is not how I imagined this would be at all,' Robert said.

'This is a rarity,' said Tripod-Reski. 'A small pocket of existence amid hyperspace's twisted layers of wrecked continua. Many here would escape to the real, but there are no safe routes up the levels.'

The mechs were heading for a fence-enclosed, roofedover set of stairs. The steps were wide and fairly shallow, decorated with colourful mosaics which the many centuries had worn away, although some bore evidence of unimaginative repairs. At the foot they encountered a strange thoroughfare that was far busier and noisier than the promenade. Shops and stalls sold all manner of goods while gastronomic kiosks provided a tantalising array of flavours and savouries. The number of species on show here was prodigious, and he recognised very few. One common factor was the bulky, trailing clothing almost everyone wore, along with floppy, decorated hats and gauntlets. But Robert's opportunity to study this clamorous, bustling market (which stretched as far as he could see) was cut short when the mechs steered him to another stairway which spiralled down to the next level.

It was quieter down here, darker, with lowlit passages passing between long featureless blocks and a few solidly impenetrable iron doors, some of which were guarded. These were the lower floors of the expensive residences whose first levels looked out over the falls. The passages also connected with a wide walkway which ran along the back of the Great Terrace, providing an imposing view of the rivers and currents that poured in from above. It was there that they met Conveyance 289.

At first there was a scraping, clinking sound from somewhere very close yet unseen, then a large iron grid in the flagstones just ahead of them swung open and a shiny black, elephant-sized insect clambered out. Robert was alarmed and ready to flee until he saw his mech companions approach the massive creature ... which on closer inspection proved to be a machine, not a beast. It had a segmented metal carapace, fluted cables, access covers bearing blocks of text in tiny characters, heatvane clusters at the rear, effectors and the main interaction unit at the front. It moved around with surprising agility on four pairs of articulated limbs and on its back was what looked like a passenger recess covered by a darkened canopy. Fascinated and a little wary, Robert advanced and was introduced by the mechs.

'I am pleased to meet you,' he said. 'Are there another 288 like yourself?'

'In all, Human Horst, the Construct's tectories have produced 3,739 of my series, of which less than a hundred are still in operation.' The machine's voice wis expressive, almost musical, and possessed an odd buzzing harmony. 'It will be an honour and a privilege to fight alongside you.'

Robert froze. 'Excuse me, but did you say "fight"?'

'Indeed so. I have already updated the Reski Emantes via proximal databurst but I am equipped to deliver a verbal summary - in essence, our goal, the upgate, is located below us in one of the empty storage vaults but unfortunately a small covey of vermax have got to it first, five of them, and are guarding it.'

'Five of us,' said Hover-Reski.

'Vermax?' Robert said. 'What are . . .'

'When we traversed the Refulgence, you may recall that we were pursued by polymorphic hunters,' TrackReski said.

'The black snake things?'

'Those are the vermax. We do not know who their creators are but they originate in the Abyss, which suggests several possibilities. They eat metal and are especially fond of the submesh array where our sentience patterns reside.'

'A dedicated design,' said Tripod-Reski.

'They are also dangerous to organic lifeforms,' said Conveyance 289 as a niche opened in its side. 'Which is why you should have this.'

From the niche an arm telescoped out, holding a long, narrow case. The case then split open lengthways to reveal a slender black object about three feet long with a red hilt. It was so black that Robert could see no surface detail or texture, only a thin silhouette tapering to an unseeable point. Light seemed to be devoured by it.

'It's a sword,' he said, confused.

'It is called a
kezeq
shard. Against creatures like the vermax, it is deadly. Handle it carefully, however - the cold of it would cause irreparable damage to your flesh.'

Robert lifted the
kezeq
by its hilt and found it to be as light as a wooden metre rule. He had once learned some fencing when he was at college in Bonn, but that was 40 years ago - how much could he remember in a few minutes?

'You will ride in my guest compartment, Human Horst, while the Reski Emantes will be our valiant vanguard.'

Five minutes later he was seated and strapped into an odd, high-backed couch in Conveyance 289's passenger recess as the machine clambered back down into the open grating. It was a descent from light and cool freshness into dank, musty gloom.

'This is a very old storage area,' said Tripod-Reski. All three mechs were in the recess with him. '289 says that the upgate is in the next vault along.'