The Web and the Stars (34 page)

Chapter Seventy-Two

The immortal Mutati courtesan presents us with difficult questions. Out of the thousands of doses of elixir that were distributed, Princess Meghina is the only Mutati known to have consumed any, and the cellular effects on her were dramatic. Mutatis typically have lifespans similar to those of Humans, so the possibility of immortality for every shapeshifter who consumes the Elixir of Life is frightening. Maybe this is not the case and it is only a coincidence, but it presents obvious security concerns, as it could result in the ultimate domination of that race over humankind. I would strongly recommend two courses of action: We must only distribute additional doses under strictly controlled conditions, and you need to notify your son of the situation. After all, he is the Doge, responsible for the welfare of all of us.

—Dr. Hurk Bichette, telebeam to Francella Watanabe

A week passed.

Despite his inexperience on the job, Doge Anton had already developed a routine. Each morning he arose early and had breakfast brought to him in his office. If the weather was nice, he ate in the adjacent rooftop garden, as he was doing now.

He flipped on a telebeam projector beside his plate and read the messages as he ate, letting an electronic fork automatically lift morsels of omelet to his mouth. It freed up his hands to continue working.

As usual there were several messages from his mother, listing the most important appointments he had that day, and how to handle each of them. She was not pleased that he had appointed Nirella Nehr as interim Supreme General, and for days she had been pressing to have him not to make the appointment permanent. In Nirella’s place she had been touting her own candidate, Gilforth Pont, providing reasons why he would make a great general.

The trouble was, Anton knew the man, and he didn’t have the first idea about what it took to lead the Merchant Prince Armed Forces. Neither did his spoiled son, who had manipulated the system to obtain an appointment as a lieutenant colonel in the Red Berets. Anton didn’t like people who worked their connections to get ahead. Instead, he liked those who advanced through the sweat of their own brows.

The fork continued its passage from the plate to his mouth, using sensors to keep from missing or stabbing him. He paused to take a sip of tangy juice, and turned the fork off. He didn’t feel like finishing the omelet.

Consistent with his opinion of others, Anton felt some embarrassment for his own appointment to the highest position in the Alliance. He was the son of a noble-born prince himself (albeit out of matrimony), and in danger of becoming one of the very dandies he loathed. Still, he had high hopes of proving that he deserved the job. Already he was asserting himself, showing his mother that he could make important decisions on his own.

He knew she could not really do anything about that, because she held her own lofty social position in large part due to her relationship with him, her bragging rights as the mother of the Doge. She tried to act like she was in charge, in tacit control, but he really held the more important cards. He just needed to figure out how to play them.

His feelings for her were evolving. Anton was beginning to see Francella as a complete person, with strengths and weaknesses. He didn’t think he could ever forgive her for abandoning him at birth, but at least she had paid a family to raise him. That showed some modicum of concern, and suggested that she wasn’t nearly as bad as she seemed to be.

Yet the stories of her raw rage were terrifying, the things she allegedly did to Noah, or tried to do to him, as well as the rumors that she may have killed her own father and blamed it on her brother. Her actions in the laboratory may have been controlled experiments; at least that was what she claimed. In addition, she insisted that she had nothing to do with old Prince Saito’s death, and Anton wanted to believe her. He also worried about her health, and hoped a way could be found to slow or reverse the accelerated aging she had been suffering.

A robot servant removed the dishes, and he continued reading the telebeam images that floated in front of his eyes. One of the messages—from an investigator he respected—cited proof that Noah was not responsible for the attack on Jacopo Nehr’s jewelry-manufacturing complex after all, and that Lorenzo del Velli had actually been the perpetrator.

Interesting. So Uncle Noah is not guilty of everything after all.

Anton considered sending the information to Jacopo Nehr himself, then reconsidered and forwarded it to Nirella instead. It was her father, and she would want to do whatever she could to ensure his safety. But why had Lorenzo done such a thing? The plots among merchant princes seemed endless.

After forwarding the message to Nirella, along with his own cover note, Anton paused to consider who else should know. His mother? Eventually, yes. But first, he wanted to do something he had been delaying for too long.

Because of Lorenzo’s deception, the young Doge finally decided to meet with Noah, and he responded to his uncle’s diplomatic overtures.

Reading the telebeam message in his underground office, Noah felt a rush of elation. Anton said he looked forward to resuming their close relationship, and suggested a neutral meeting place—in a canyon on the far side of Canopa. That sounded all right to Noah, but he would check with Subi before answering, to make certain that the necessary security measures were taken.

Touching his sapphire signet ring, Noah closed the transceiver. The message disappeared into his ring in a wisp of gray smoke.

Just then he heard a thunderous explosion, and the shouts of men. As he ran out into the main chamber, he saw men, women, and robots heading toward a breach in the entrance, carrying weapons.

Subi Danvar hurried up to him, and shouted, “Cameras show soldiers and heavy vehicles outside! We can’t hold them off for long.”

Subi guided Noah toward a side tunnel, which they entered at a full run.

“MPA?” Noah asked.

“No, paramilitary. They’re wearing Red Beret uniforms.”

“I didn’t think Anton would do this to me,” Noah said.

“Maybe he didn’t. As the Doge Emeritus, Lorenzo has Red Berets, too.”

Noah cursed, and as he ran with Subi, he wondered how his enemies had found him. At the adjutant’s suggestion, Noah had beefed up the energy-field security system and metalloy barricades at the main entrance, so that—along with the brave Guardians who were facing the attackers—should slow them down.

Reaching a rear chamber, Noah and Subi assembled fighters and equipment. From all tunnels around them, fully armed Guardians streamed in and received their orders.

More explosions sounded. Looking at a portable security screen, Subi reported: “They’re at all of the entrances. We only have one way to get out and try to hit them from another side.”

He pointed to a Digger machine.

High in the enclosed operators’ cabin of the vehicle sat Acey Zelk and Dux Hannah, side by side. “Let’s go!” Acey shouted. He shut the door and fired up the big machine. Its engines made a deafening roar.

In the face of the overwhelming onslaught, Noah and a force of Guardians used the Digger to tunnel an escape route for them. Following a compass, they set a course toward the northeast, his old ecological compound.

With Acey at the controls the machine hummed, throwing dirt and rocks behind it, which robots pushed back with smaller machines, allowing the fighters to surge forward into the earth. The Digger was fast, and the robots had to work hard to keep up behind it.

Noah smelled the dust and dirt, and he coughed, as did the Humans with him. He saw an opening ahead, and heard what sounded like running water.

Abruptly the Digger coughed too, and the engines shut down. On top of the machine, Acey spat expletives.

Part of the tunnel collapsed overhead, trapping Acey and Dux and many of Noah’s loyal followers. At a command from Noah, robots rushed in and began digging furiously, trying to rescue people before they stopped breathing. Noah and Subi climbed on top of the partially buried Digger, and used a puissant pistol to knock dirt away, causing it to cascade harmlessly to the ground. They saw the teenagers now, inside the sealed cabin. The boys pushed the door open and climbed out.

From the rooftop, Noah surveyed the machine. A large rock had crushed the engine compartment, and the Digger would need repairs before it could be used again. As a security measure, to prevent the units from repairing themselves and going on burrowing rampages, as they had done in the past, Subi had disconnected the sentient features. It was just a dumb machine now, totally useless.

At the front of the Digger, Noah saw through the large opening it had cut, revealing a cavern and a subterranean stream. Guardians were climbing down an embankment to the water, gathering along the edge.

“Now what?” Dux asked.

“Where does this stream lead?” Acey asked. “Does anybody know how far it is to an outlet?”

Tapping buttons on his security computer, Subi tried to get information. “Nothing here,” he said.

Acey repeated his questions, scrambling down the embankment and shouting them to the Human and robotic Guardians around him. No one seemed to have any answers.

Noah, Subi, and Dux went down to the stream, too. Noah dipped a hand in the water. It was not that cold.

“I’ve done some swimming in my life,” Acey said, testing the temperature himself. “Extreme sports where I had to hold my breath for a long time.” He waded into the water.

Figuring out what Acey had in mind—an underwater swim—Noah shouted: “Hold it! You don’t know how far it is to an outlet.”

“What choices do we have?” Acey asked, with a wide grin.

“I’ll do it, then,” Noah said. “I can’t die, remember?”

“And let you have all the fun?” Acey shouted. “Wish me luck!” He swam away downstream, taking powerful strokes.

Noah dove in and swam after him, but Acey was a faster swimmer.

The brave teenager went under, followed by Noah.

Just when Acey felt as if his lungs would burst, he went over a waterfall into a pool of deep, cold water—outside. Noah, who aspirated a great deal of water and should have drowned, joined him moments later. Both of them took several moments to recuperate.

Then Noah made out shapes on the shore, surrounding the water. Humans and robots. They drew closer, and he saw Guardian uniforms and colors on them. One of his subcommanders shouted to him, “We got out a secondary entrance. It’s just you two?”

“No!” Noah shouted. “Subi and others are back there, hundreds of Guardians.” He pointed in the direction of the waterfall. “We need to break through rock and get them out.”

“You mean with a Digger?” the subcommander asked.

“Exactly.”

Noah heard the roar of another Digger, and saw its hulking shape appear.

In only a few minutes, with Noah directing, they dug back to the stranded Digger, and Noah’s squad of followers.

Noah and Subi then led a counterattack and drove away the Red Beret forces—which outnumbered them—with hardly any resistance.

As the battle turned, the two men watched on a remote videocam as the attackers hurried into military vehicles and drove off.

“That was too easy,” Subi said. “Did you notice? Just before running, they were talking feverishly on com units.”

“I saw that,” Noah said. “We’d better get under cover and regroup.”

Chapter Seventy-Three

No motivation is more powerful than the desire to annihilate your historical mortal enemies. It is one of the dark forces, which invariably seem to be stronger among the races than the forces of good. This does not bode well for the balance of the galaxy, which is connected to all activity and continues to erode … while the undergalaxy does the exact opposite. Our loss is their gain.

—Report of web caretakers to the Council of Elders

Noah and Thinker surveyed the rubble of the battle, watching as Subi, the teenage boys, Tesh, and others quickly retrieved usable weapons and took them inside the shelter of the headquarters. Medical robots tended to the injured, with most of the bots having been custom programmed a short while before by Thinker.

As the sentient machines performed their work they transmitted signals to Thinker, reporting on the conditions of the patients.

When their tasks were complete, Thinker passed the information on to Noah. “Fifteen dead Red Berets,” the robot leader said.

“How many did we lose?” Noah asked.

“Fifty-four”

“That many?” He thought back. “But I only saw a few.”

“Aren’t robots as important as Humans?” Thinker asked.

“Of course. Your contributions are tremendous. We couldn’t do it without you.”

“There are six Human dead, and forty-eight seriously damaged robots.”

“Fifty-four in all, then.”

“Right.”

Noah felt considerable relief, but didn’t want to offend Thinker by showing it, or pointing out that dead machines could be repaired, while Humans could not. Except for himself. And half a dozen others, from what he’d heard.

Soon additional information came in, this time from Subi, who rushed over and interrupted Noah and Thinker. “We took prisoners,” the adjutant said breathlessly, “and they confirmed our suspicions about Lorenzo. The attack force was under his command from the orbiter, using Red Berets stationed on Canopa.”

“So EcoStation is more than a gambling casino,” Noah said, bitterly. “We built it and that idiot turned it against us.”

“How did they find out where we are?” Dux asked.

“It was only a matter of time,” Thinker said, “and probabilities. They have been searching for us intensely.”

“This headquarters is no longer safe,” Subi said. “They’ll hit us with a massive force next.”

Noah noticed that his signet ring was flashing colors, and shifting from sapphire to gold. The color change and pattern of flashes told him the source of a telebeam message that had just arrived for him: Doge Anton.

Opening the connection, he saw words floating in the air:
“Hello, Uncle Noah. For the sake of the MP A, I’m declaring a formal cease-fire with the Guardians, while you and I discuss ways of ending the hostilities. For your part, you must discontinue all guerrilla attacks against corporate assets, including those owned by my mother and my father. I found out about Lorenzo’s attack on you, and put a stop to it. Not that you needed my help. I just made it easier for you. “

Speaking into a recording mechanism, Noah transmitted a response: “Much appreciated. All right, I’ll keep my end of the cease-fire. I assume you’ll see that Lorenzo does the same.”

Moments later, he saw the Doge’s response in front of his eyes:
“I’ll do my best, but watch out for his tricks. He and your sister are always plotting against you. “

When the exchange was complete, Subi said to Noah, “We should still dig in and open up as many escape tunnels as possible. Let’s take new precautions, lay traps, and do the unexpected. I think we should also send a recon team to the orbiter and see what Lorenzo is doing there. Obviously he’s using it as a command center against us, but maybe we can get through and find out what he’s up to.”

“The best defense if a good offense,” Noah said, nodding. Tesh approached him, a look of sadness on her face. She stood by him, listening as he and the robot continued their conversation.

“Wearable surveillance cameras would be handy on such a mission,” Thinker said. “I’ve done repairs to a hibbamatic machine that Subi brought in some time ago, and it can produce as many cameras as you need, tiny units that look like buttons and are totally undetectable to scanners. They’ll project images from the space station back here.”

“As I recall,” Subi said, scratching his head, “you were less than impressed by the quality of products produced by that machine.”

“I improved it,” the cerebral robot said. “The thing is not perfect, but it should serve our needs, especially on short notice. The cameras will project images back here just fine; they’re a simple enough mechanism.”

Noah nodded. “All right, Subi, set up the recon mission. How many people do you want to send?”

“Eh?” Subi was staring at Dux, then at Acey, who were only a few meters away. “I’m thinking three,” he replied. “Say, these boys have the look of Sirikan nobility. Isn’t that where you’re from?”

“From Siriki, yes,” Dux said, “but from the back country. Our families are dirt poor.”

“Well, I’d say a nobleman or two passed your way on vacation, and spent the night. You two have just the look I want for this mission. If you’re game for it, I want you to act like young nobles and wander around, seeing how much you can transmit back to us.”

“Right,” Dux said, exchanging nods with Acey. “Our own little casino game.”

Looking at Thinker, Noah said, “After you produce the cameras, I want you to have tunnels dug to the clearing where our podship is, so that we can get as many Guardians on board the craft as possible for a mass escape, if necessary. Human
and robot
Guardians.”

Then to Tesh he said, “Supervise new construction inside the podship, racks to stack robots, and vertical structures to accommodate as many people as possible.”

“That is a fine idea, Master,” the robot said, with orange lights blinking around his face plate.

“Sounds good to me, too,” Tesh agreed.

“As for me,” Noah said, “I’m going to meet with Anton, at the place he designated. There’s no point taking security with me. He’s proven himself by intercepting Lorenzo’s attack. Besides, I’m invulnerable, in case some of you haven’t heard yet.” He grinned. “And if I get captured, you guys can just break me out again.”

Thinker made an odd mechanical noise. Then: “Don’t get overconfident, Master. The last time you were caught, your sister cut you up into little pieces. Don’t forget: She’s Anton’s mother, and his benefactor.”

“Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I am being overly optimistic.”

“At least take a squad of robots with you,” Thinker said, “to make it harder for them to capture you,” We have our own longevity, because we can always be repaired.”

“Not always,” Noah said, “not if the damage is too great. And perhaps it is the same with me.” He chewed at his lower lip. “Very well, I’ll tell Anton I want fifty of my guards, and he can bring the same number.”

Across the galaxy, about as far as anyone could go, Woldn felt much better, and was working to regenerate an entire galactic race. He dispatched cleanup teams to remove the floating bodies from the Parvii Fold and the connecting tunnels, and separated his surviving people into groups, with special attention to the most healthy.

Of those who were in the best condition, he instituted an intense Parvii reproduction program under the supervision of two surviving breedmasters, to generate as many offspring as possible, as fast as possible. With a short gestation period of only a few days, the population began to increase, and reached adulthood in a matter of weeks.

Soon Woldn was culling the best of the offspring and combining them with the best of the older adults, selecting who would be future podship pilots, and who would be trained for other important professions.

He had the historic goal of his galactic race firmly in his mind, and it would never leave his thoughts. Maintain full control of the podships.

One major problem existed, but he would do the best he could despite it. While he had managed to save two breedmasters, only one war priest had survived, carrying with him the secret of the ancient telepathic weapons. Throughout their long military tradition, war priests had always worked in groups of twenty or more, forming among them a telepathic seed weapon, which was then passed on to the swarms. Over the millennia there had been no need for such a powerful weapon, but the war priests had practiced their craft anyway, generation after generation, awaiting the moment when they might be called to duty.

Now, after all of that preparation, only one of them remained, but he was the most skillful of his group, and the unspoken leader among them. This one, who went by his ancestral name of Ryall, had risen from his deathbed and gone immediately to work. “I can do it anyway,” he promised Woldn. “It will take longer, but there are still Parviis with substantial telepathic powers. I will teach them the ancient arts, and we will have the weapons again.…”

Addressing a gathering of future pilots, the best of the best, Woldn announced, vocally and telepathically at the same time: “We’re not going to resume our podship routes until we take care of other chores first. The Tulyans will pay for what they did to us!”

The din of buzzing and applause filled Woldn’s brain, and lifted him to a state of euphoria.

“Soon!” he told them. “We avenge our dead!”