The Shadow and Night (61 page)

At Vero's name, the advisor again raised a finger in interruption. “Sentinel Enand, if I may ask . . . why are you on Farholme? Isn't Brenito Camsar our sentinel?” His tone was cool.

Vero's gaze seemed as steady as the advisor's. “Yes, Brenito Camsar has been your official sentinel for—I think—twenty-two years. He requested help. He had had a vision that Farholme was under threat. I was sent in response.”

Clemant, still staring at Vero, tapped his chin thoughtfully. “A threat? As long ago as Nativity? Remarkable. . . . Anyway, please continue.”

Choosing his words, Merral explained how, two weeks ago, his cousin Elana had reported seeing a creature that she described as half insect and half human above the Herrandown colony and how his own brief investigation had suggested that there had indeed been something there. As he spoke, Merral saw how the expressions on the faces of the representative and his advisor began to shift from puzzled interest to marked unease. Merral then mentioned results Anya had obtained from the DNA analysis of the strange fur sample he had found and how the results implied that, in total contravention of all Assembly practice, the creature had an apparent mixture of animal and human DNA. As he spoke, Merral found himself comparing the faces of Corradon and Clemant; while Corradon's expression displayed alarm, horror, and shock, his advisor's face simply showed a cool astonishment.
Corradon is outraged,
Merral noted.
His advisor seems to see this as nothing more than some extreme intellectual challenge.

Then, as Merral went on to mention Vero's discovery that his uncle had apparently willfully altered a re-created voice, the advisor leaned over and whispered something into the representative's ear. Merral caught the word
miriam
or something like it, but it made no sense.

Corradon paused as if in thought, turned to the map, nodded, and then motioned Merral on with his account.

As Merral recounted the story of his trip north up the Lannar River with Vero, Clemant smoothly enlarged the wall image to show the river's path. When, with halting words, Merral described the discovery of the two types of intruders, the representative suddenly strained forward over the table toward Merral.

“You are
serious?”
he asked, his blue eyes strangely wide. “This is not some vision or illusion? There really
are
strange creatures loose on our world?”

“I am afraid so,” Merral answered, suddenly aware of the tension in the room. “I wish it were a vision. But we saw them clearly. And I have a wound from one, and we have provisional genetic results from blood samples of both and images.”

Corradon shook his head in bewilderment, looked at Clemant as if for reassurance, found none, and leaned back in his chair. “Continue,” he said in a tone that indicated he had been badly shaken. “I did not mean to interrupt. Nor, of course, to suggest that you had not got your facts right. However, I had no idea that you were going to tell us anything of such appalling importance.”

Mindful of the passing time, Merral rapidly told the account of how they had spent the day on the hilltop at Carson's Sill. Here, although he was inclined to skim over the violent and bloody encounter with the intruders, Vero kept interrupting him and prompting him to expand on various details. Then, alarmed by the intensity of his memories, Merral recounted how they were attacked at nightfall and, at the last minute, rescued by Perena with her ship. He then explained—as economically as he could—how, once back at Isterrane, Perena had arranged for them to join the inter-system liner
Heinrich Schütz
in order to leave the system and get to Earth rapidly. Perena took over and showed her satellite image of the intruder ferry craft near Carson's Sill before outlining the appearance of the mysterious envoy and his warning to her. Finally, Merral concluded with how the inter-system liner had narrowly escaped being destroyed.

“And that is our tale,” he said. “We felt you ought to hear it.”

The representative took a deep breath, placed his head in his hands, and stared silently at the table in front of him. Merral found himself impressed by the man's control. In the silence, he was aware of the gusts of rain being flung at the window. Then Corradon looked up at Perena, his face pale. “This envoy, this strangest of figures, can you repeat what he said to you? His words were . . . ?”

Perena gave the tiniest of nods. “ ‘Captain Lewitz,
night is falling. The war begins.'
The words will not easily be forgotten.”

“Excuse me, Captain Lewitz,” Clemant said, his dark eyes scrutinizing her, “can we be sure that this was an
objective
occurrence?”

Perena returned his gaze, her face revealing no emotion. “As opposed to a subjective vision?
No.
It
could
have been a hallucination. But as it preceded—and predicted—one of the most dramatic events in Assembly history, I think we ought to treat it seriously.”

The representative nodded.

“You have never had anything like this before?” continued the advisor.

“No,” said Perena. “Space Affairs gives me a yearly psycho—”

“Lucian, what's your point?” Corradon's tone was sharp.

“Sir, I just want to distinguish qualitatively between the biological data and the ship damage, which can be considered as hard data, and this report. Which is of . . . of an
appearance.
It could be a vision.”

Perena looked across at Clemant with what Merral felt was a gentle curiosity. “I considered the vision hypothesis myself, sir, but after examining the evidence I felt it was an objective appearance. And I do not feel that the creature I met with was human.” Her voice remained even-toned.

Corradon looked up at the wall clock. “Please,” he said, “discussion of exactly what, or
who,
Captain Lewitz saw can wait. The fact that this envoy predicted the Gate loss and allowed us to save almost everyone on an inter-system liner validates it for me. Whatever, or whoever, it was. And it makes the announcement of a war and ‘night' worrying in the extreme.”

“There was another warning.” Vero's voice was quiet but firm. “From a man who dreams and who has visions. He told Merral and me—independently—that he had foreseen the testing of the Assembly and a storm unleashed on Farholme. He gave us a command ‘to watch, stand firm, and to hope.' ”

“To watch, stand firm, and to hope,” Clemant echoed slowly, his round face a mask. Then he looked at Merral with something that hinted at a frown. “Forester, I wish we had known these things. Had these anomalies been reported . . .”

“In hindsight, sir, I erred. But—”

Corradon waved a hand in dismissal. “Never mind now. I'm afraid we have another meeting in five minutes with the Epidemiology Council. Anya—Dr. Lewitz—please tell me more about the biology of these creatures.”

“Sir,” Anya said, slipping her diary off her belt and putting it on the table, “there are two sorts of organisms that we have evidence for. Both seem, I'm afraid, to be heavily modified humans.”

She clicked on her diary, and after a terse command, the map on the wall was replaced by the images Merral and Vero had obtained through the fieldscope. Merral stared again at the strange creatures with their brown, polished-woodlike carapaces, their weirdly jointed limbs, and the platelike covering of their heads and chests. As he watched, the horror of them came back to him, and he was barely able to suppress a shudder. He heard a sharp, appalled intake of breath from Corradon and saw his advisor shaking his head in incomprehension.

“These,” said Anya, her voice dark-edged with a note of disgust, “are the ones that we call cockroach-beasts. About 1.5 meters high, with a chitin-rich, rigid outer skin casing. I thought it might be like fingernail cuticle but it's different, apparently generated from insect DNA segments. It's not actually a true exoskeleton, as apparently they do have a vaguely hominid bone structure underneath. It's more an organic armor.”

The advisor opened his mouth and closed it again sharply.

Anya showed a few more images. “You can see they are bipedal; they have stereoscopic, forward-facing vision. The insect appearance is purely superficial; they are mammals. Not arthropod eyes either, which is consistent with Elana Antalfer's report that one was watching Herrandown. Distance vision, you see. The hands are strange; the finger and thumb give a scissorlike cutting blade. It's apparently efficient, as Merral found out.”

Merral, trying to suppress his memories of the attack, observed a look of stunned incomprehension on the face of the representative and his advisor.

“These we just call ape-creatures,” she said, flicking a new image on the screen. Merral felt his stomach squirm again at the sight of the tall, dark-furred beasts with their strange, backward, displaced heads and their peculiar stooping stance. “Bigger, around 2.2 meters tall. These seem to have a mixture of ape and human DNA, but with some innovations. The data is preliminary.”

The representative, his jaw moving up and down, gestured at the image. “Ape and human DNA
intermixed.
I find the concept appalling and the reality, well . . . are there
no
limits?”

“A profound question,” Vero said in a low but insistent voice.

“This data has not gone to Ancient Earth?” Merral turned to see the advisor staring at him.

“No,” Merral answered. “We were taking it with us when the Gate exploded.”

Clemant shook his head. “Putting aside—for the moment—the extraordinary irregularity of your journey, why didn't you just transmit all this data as soon as you had it?”

Vero spoke before Merral could answer. “S-sir, I take responsibility. It was because we found out that the signals through the Gate were being intercepted.”

“Intercepted?”

“I'm afraid so,” Merral said, feeling he needed to protect Vero. “We can show you the evidence, but the intruders were able to intercept and modify Gate signals and diary calls.”

Vero raised dark, mobile fingers. “A-and if I may interrupt. Please, we must all assume from now on that all our calls can be overheard. Nothing of what we have said here today must be transmitted.”

Corradon and Clemant exchanged wide-eyed glances.

The silence was broken by the advisor's deep voice. “Let me summarize.
One:
you believe that non-human—or modified human—creatures have landed in northeastern Menaya.
Two:
they have at their disposal technologies beyond us: in communications, genetics, and weapons.
Three:
they are hostile. And
four:
they are behind the destruction of the Gate. Is that a fair summary?”

Merral was conscious of nods of agreement around him.

“But
f-five—
” there was determination in Vero's voice—“we must not neglect the spiritual dimension. The disturbances in Herrandown, the modified re-created voice. The feeling of evil we have felt. Above all, the warnings of this envoy. Indeed, the very fact of his presence.”

Clemant, his face inscrutable, said nothing.

The representative rose. “We must go,” Corradon said. “Although after this, I do not feel like another meeting. I need a chance to think and pray.”

He stared at Vero for a moment before shifting his gaze to Merral. “But I have, of course, one more question: What do you suggest I do? You have had more time to think about things.”

Merral, suddenly finding himself unclear about what he was to say, looked at Vero.

“To be honest, sir,” Vero replied, “I think that, at this precise moment, you should do nothing. Until we can meet again the day after tomorrow.”

“Nothing?”

“Yes; we too need time to think and pray. I do not think a day's delay will make any difference. I also fear there is a real danger that we may make a wrong decision.”

“But surely,” Corradon asked, “it could be dangerous to delay?”

“Possibly, sir, but we do not know where the intruders are. And your north looks very big to me.”

“I agree with Vero,” Merral said. “We need to keep quiet. For the moment.”

Corradon looked at Clemant, who gave an unhappy shrug. “Sir, I agree,” he said in a low voice. “We need to be very careful. There are issues here that we need to discuss before we act.”

“But shouldn't people be warned?” Corradon asked, smoothing his streaked hair. “I have a responsibility
.
”

“Ah, but warned against what, sir?” Vero was frowning. “We do not know how many intruders there are. Or even whether they are a threat beyond the Lannar Crater area. Besides, everyone is so shaken at the loss of the Gate that another shock may cause panic.”

An intense expression of alarm briefly appeared on Clemant's face before vanishing.

“Hmm. What about the other representatives?” Corradon asked. “I must talk with them. Can I call them?”

Vero shook his head. “Sir, I do not think you should use diary transmission to talk of such things. None of us should; it may be intercepted. Are you meeting them soon?”

“They are all gathering here in two days for what are scheduled as several days of crisis meetings.”

“Sir,” Merral said, catching a nod from Vero, “I suggest we meet with you earlier that day. Would that be possible?”

Corradon looked carefully at him and then glanced at Clemant for support. “Yes.”

“And, s-sir,” Vero interjected, “if I might make a request, can we meet somewhere more isolated? We have no idea what the power of the intruders is, but we cannot rule out being overheard or noticed here. It was an old rule for meetings to do with strategy to be carried out in secret places.”

Corradon shook his head with wearied astonishment. “I had not thought that it was possible to get worse news than the loss of our Gate. But
this
clearly is. This event . . . no, these
events,
are almost too terrible for words. Indeed, the combination of this and our isolation . . .” He paused as if reluctant to finish the sentence. Finally, a degree of composure returned to his face. “I'm sure we can find somewhere suitable to meet. Can't we, Lucian?”