Empress of Eternity (9 page)

21 Ninemonth 1351, Unity of Caelaarn

Maertyn did not sleep well. But then, he hadn’t slept all that well in Caelaarn for years, and certainly not since Maarlyna’s illness. After breakfast, he finished dressing, choosing a silver-trimmed green jacket with maroon cuffs, designed to deflect shocker bolts and resist projectiles. Then he made his way to the garage and the small personal vehicle retained at the town house, both for Maertyn’s use when he was there, or for Rhesten when Maertyn was not.

The building that held the Ministry of Science was to the north and west of the greenbelt that Maertyn’s town home overlooked, less than a ten-minute drive. Once there, without incident, Maertyn pulled into the open-topped area that allowed solar recharging, if into a space reserved for those of his Ministry position and higher, where he stepped out and locked the vehicle. He carried only a thin portfolio. Most of what he had to say was in his head and not in any set of records, except at the canal station.

The distance from the car park across the narrow bridge to the entry walk was less than a hundred yards, and when Maertyn stepped through the outer doors of the Ministry building, he saw two guards in the dark green and black of Unity Protective Services, but behind the security console. When he’d left, there had been no guards stationed in the building.

Maertyn proffered his hand to the scanner, which announced, “Deputy Assistant Minister Lord Maertyn S’Eidolon, cleared to all levels.”

One of the two guards looked intently at Maertyn as the gates opened, but said nothing as he passed them and headed for the ramp up to the second level. Once there, he walked down the corridor some ten yards, where he reached the bottom of the ramp that led to the third level. He again had to have his hand scanned, but there was no announcement as the entry gate to the ramp irised open, and he made his way to the third and top level, and then down the central hallway.

The office of the Minister of Science for the Unity of Caelaarn was at the rear of the building, with a view of a gardens below that amounted to a private park for those who worked at the Ministry headquarters.

Maertyn had no more than stepped into the outer anteroom of the minister’s suite than a muscular young man in a green singlesuit and gray jacket, with a professionally cheerful face that Maertyn didn’t recognize, stepped forward. “Lord Maertyn, the minister hoped you’d be here early. Let me tell him you’ve arrived. If you’d care to take a seat, I’m sure it won’t be long.”

Maertyn nodded politely. “Thank you.” He didn’t bother to seat himself. Hlaansk didn’t bother with petty gestures like making subordinates wait unnecessarily.

The young functionary had barely entered the minister’s private office when he emerged.

“Lord Maertyn…”

Maertyn walked into the office, noting that the door closed behind him, softly but firmly.

Minister Hlaansk Ovisor was black-haired, perhaps a few centimeters shorter than Maertyn, but slender, with a warm open smile that extended to the corners of his intense blue eyes. He wore the green jacket of the Science Ministry with a gray shirt and trousers and a pale green cravat. “Maertyn…it’s good to see you. You’re looking healthy and more rested than the last time we met.” Hlaansk gestured toward the chairs in front of the amberwood desk, a desk that was bare of anything except a single thin file that lay at a slight angle.

“Thank you.” Maertyn waited until the minister started to seat himself, then followed.

“You’ve been working at the canal now, what, for not quite a year and a half…?”

Maertyn wasn’t in the slightest deceived by the apparent casual opening, knowing that Hlaansk knew Maertyn’s time at the station down to the nearest hour, if not the exact second. “Something like that.”

“We haven’t seen much in the way of detail in your reports, and when I received your request for equipment, I thought a more detailed presentation to the senior staff here at the Ministry might be useful, especially anything you have discovered about the old quarters there.”

“I have reported on the temperature discrepancies and the resultant impact on climate and weather—in some detail, as I recall. As for the quarters…what could I possibly add to years of observation by light-keepers and others?”

“Come now, Maertyn,” offered the minister jovially, “the light-keeper’s station has to be more than that. That’s one reason why you were allowed to pursue your research there.”

“One reason?” Maertyn’s words were quiet, almost matter-of-fact.

“In terms of your scientific inquiries and your research, as well as the policies you administered while a deputy assistant minister, you’ve always been above reproach.”

That wasn’t an answer, true as the words were, and Maertyn waited.

“I’ve read enough reports from scientists to understand one aspect about your proposal about the MCC.” Hlaansk leaned back in the over-stuffed swivel chair, offering a broad smile.

“Oh?”

“You know as well as I do, but I’ll spell it out so that you’ll understand where you stand. The compact underlying the Unity is most clear about one aspect of both research and commerce. It’s clear about many, but the one that applies to us is the absolute prohibition on the use of or research into any energy generation or concentration system that creates toxic or nonbiodegradable wastes or that creates or enhances radioactive by-products or end-products. Given the duration of the great canal, its imperviousness to all known energy forms, and its isolation from all forms of energy, it has to embody a higher-level energy usage and generation system. Once upon a time, when Earth had a moon, tidal power was a greater source, but that diminished eons ago. Now, in these times, when we face severe limitations on bio and solar power, discovering a more unique power source could prove critical, especially to the Ministry that rediscovered such a system.”

“That’s…rather far-fetched, and a long ways from my initial proposal, sir. Besides, I’m a single scientist. Would not a team prove more likely to discover such a source, rather than a lone researcher?”

“Teams are useful in discovering ways to implement and build upon discoveries, but at times, insight is more important than collaboration…and more practical.”

In short, you need the Ministry of Science to make the first breakthrough here.
“You’re expecting a great deal, sir.”

“You’ve shown that you have a streak of insight and innovation matched by few, Maertyn, and I’m counting on that. So should you.”

Maertyn nodded politely. “I will do my best. You know that.”

“I know you will.” Hlaansk cleared his throat. “I must bring up one distressing aspect of the present situation. The Executive Administrator’s Council has taken note of your reports, although how they obtained them is a matter of some question. It has been suggested that…if you cannot discover the secrets of the canal within your research term, or at least make significant progress, Protective Services will likely turn to more…forceful means.”

“Oh?”

“The Gaerda will be allowed to test its new nucleonic weapon there.”

“Isn’t that a violation of the energy compact?”

“The nucleonic weapon was not built or created on Earth. The compact does not apply to weapons or energy systems above the outer atmosphere.” Hlaansk shrugged. “It doesn’t leave any radioactivity, I’ve been assured, and while it might raise the local temperature for a slight while, that will be considered acceptable, more than acceptable given the continued progress of the northern ice. It will be registered as an off-planet trial of means to arrest glaciation, and no one is likely to object too much to that. The Minister of Environment and the Minister of Protective Services have both suggested that, while pure research is valuable, we also need results in the foreseeable future, and that, at the very least, the reaction of the canal to a nucleonic weapon might reveal what more…prosaic methods cannot.”

“That is certainly possible,” replied Maertyn calmly. “It is also possible that it would destroy forever anything embedded or concealed there.”

“Truly said.” Hlaansk shrugged. “But knowledge, if even potentially of great value, that cannot be accessed and applied when it is most needed, such as now, is knowledge of little use.”

“You would deny that to future generations?”

“I would deny nothing. The Gaerda has already noted that our various forebears were less than accommodating in that respect.”

“The Gaerda does tend to focus on immediate results, with sometimes less than desirable results, although as its ultimate supervisor, the Minister of Protective Services seems often to have to offer his regrets. Too often, some have said.”

“He is good with regrets, but regrets can be of little consolation, especially in such small matters as, shall we say, an unregistered cloning…or more precisely a majority cloning registered as a partial regeneration. Not that such is illegal, unless, of course, legal personage is an issue.”

Maarlyna…sooner or later…but more than a few senior ministers have “unregistered” clones of some sort…
“As you say, Minister, regrets offered after the act are often of little consolation.”

“But…we needn’t talk of such irregularities. I’m certain that your presentation to the senior staff this afternoon will prove most enlightening. You need not go into all the details, but perhaps an indication of the potential—suitably and cautiously presented, of course—would indicate to them the reason for your continued efforts there.” Hlaansk smiled broadly.

“I think I can manage that, sir.”

“I knew you would.” Another smile followed. “And how is your lovely wife?”

“The climate there has been most beneficial to her continued recovery, sir, as I’m certain you knew it would be, for which we are both grateful.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Very glad.” With a smile, Hlaansk stood. “Until this afternoon, Maertyn. We’re all looking forward to your briefing.”

Maertyn stood. “I’ll do my very best to provide the information everyone needs.” He inclined his head.

The minister returned the gesture.

27 Quad 2471 R.E.

Two days had passed since the priority pulse announcement of the government restructuring—or coup—by The Twenty. While general announcements continued, no comm pulses had been directed specifically at the station or at Eltyn or Faelyna, and certainly not one of the cyan frequencies of TechOversight. Neither had the satellite transmissions from MetCom nor any geosat resumed, and MetCom did not acknowledge any transmissions. From the station there was no way to determine whether MetCom had been shut down or destroyed.

While Faelyna worked on modifying the shadow-tracking equipment, Eltyn had checked the emergency solar-powered three-wheeler. It was operable, but the narrow tires restricted it in practice to the top of the canal, since they would quickly bog down in the sand to the south and east of the station. There was no way to widen the footprint of the tires. Even if he could have, the extra weight and the need to carry water—and the lack of a viable destination—would have turned flight through the sand near suicidal. The supply wheeler had not arrived on its scheduled oneday delivery, unsurprisingly, given the coup and a moderate sandstorm, but they did have over three months’ worth of dried rations, barely edible as they were. The solar still and the independent power system insured that they’d have more than enough water and energy.

What else could they do but pursue the TechOversight project? Pursue that project, and see what defenses they might mount beyond the stunners and the two projectile rifles that were their sole protection against feral sandcats and anything else wild that might appear outside the station.

Slightly before midmorning on threeday, Faelyna adjusted her equipment, now focused on one of the unused and closed ducts on the station’s lowest level. They had already scanned and shadowed-tracked all of the main doors and windows in the station, discovering essentially two patterned “shadow” responses, one for doors and one for windows.

How long before scan?
Eltyn knelt on the hard stone, hands on his thighs, bending his head forward to stretch tight neck muscles, then waiting.

Two minutes
, replied Faelyna.
Interrogative probability of airlifted team inspection?

Low. If priority, the team would already have been here. Most likely a canal wheeler or an SEV from Apialor.

No supply run on oneday or yesterday. Suggests problems for The Twenty in Apialor.
She recalibrated a setting on the focal head.

More
²
problems for us. Armed team likely to conduct “compliance inspection”…if they even bother.

Sooner/later they’ll bother. Stand by. One minute.

Standing by.
Eltyn forced himself to wait. While Faelyna had always been precise in each examination, he still found it unsettling to know that his hand and fingers were within centimeters of both high power and an enigmatic and ancient control system that certainly had the power to remove both fingers and hand. Although there was no record of anything like that, there were stories about disappearances. Also, no one had probed the station walls with equipment nearly as sophisticated as that which Faelyna was using. Not that they knew, but from what records remained, the Unity of Caelaarn’s technology had been more biological in nature, and other earlier civilizations had left few indications of such capabilities, at least since the ancients who had built the MCC.

EEEE!!!
The white emergency pulses signified the first announcement in more than a day.
All outlying or isolated installations—beware of those approaching. In several locales, enemies of the Ruche have fled from populated areas to avoid treatment for antisocial and contra-Ruche tendencies. Such self-proclaimed refugees are often armed and dangerous. They should be reported to appropriate authorities as soon as possible.

TechOversight—enemy of the Ruche?
asked Faelyna.

Eltyn knew that the seniors in MetCom—if they’d even survived—weren’t the kind to oppose the RF or The Twenty.
Possible. TechOversight didn’t wait to announce Contingency Three. Chiental’s under a mountain.

Third general announcement about “refugees,”
noted Faelyna.
More than a few unhappy with the new government. Besides TechOversight.

Few? Anyone who doesn’t agree with The Twenty is now an enemy of the Ruche.

Including us. [dry cynicism]

Eltyn nodded without pulsing.

Touch the conduit cover.

He reached out and pointed to where the stone had flowed around the heat-exchanging line, not quite touching the surface. The stone flowed back onto itself. A musty and slightly rancid odor drifted up, and he couldn’t help but wriggle his nose.

Close it
.

Eltyn barely moved his finger, concentrating on thinking about the conduit cover closing. The stone sealed itself around the composite piping, and he released his breath, if slowly.

Power to standby
, announced Faelyna.

Results?

Need to analyze. Different pattern.

[hopeful] ????
Eltyn straightened and stretched.

It’s a beginning. [doubt/hope] Possible key to command structure.

Linguistic basis?

Structured basis required. Linguistics…???

Isn’t all structure based on language?

All structure we know
, Faelyna pulsed back.
Since no one yet has figured out what lies behind or beneath the station…????

How would we know? They might have figured it out and still left the station alone. Knowledge can’t always be translated into acts.

For our sakes
³
…
best hope we find a way.

Eltyn’s response was a wry smile.

Vehicle approaching!
pulsed the local alarm system.

Faelyna turned, an inquiring look on her face.

Eltyn virtied the scanner and pulled an image.
Supply wheeler.
He watched for a time, extending the image to Faelyna. A woman driver eased the vehicle up to the station’s south side.

That’s Rhyana. She sometimes does the deliveries
, Faelyna pulsed.
Seems like a good enough person.

Might as well see what she has to say.

The two of them left the equipment and walked up the ramp to the main level. Eltyn picked up one of the stunners before he pressed the stone to open the southern door. Then he led the way.

Rhyana had pulled the wheeler up close to the door, in the area that Eltyn and Faelyna kept clear of the sand. That was both to keep sand from flowing into the station and to make it easier for those who delivered goods, parts, and equipment. The delivery woman stood beside the wheeler, her hands empty. Her eyes flicked from Faelyna to Eltyn and the stunner. Her orange driver’s cap was slightly askew over her short and curly brown hair.

Eltyn couldn’t tell if the covered cargo bin of the solar-powered wheeler contained anything. Whatever it might be wasn’t that massive, because the vehicle wasn’t resting heavily on the narrow tires.

“What is it?” Faelyna asked.

“I had to leave Apialor. I saw what they were doing. They didn’t see me. No one looks at manualers. The Twenty sent a team with a scanner. They’re brain-scanning everyone. Those who aren’t loyal are force-conditioned.”

Eltyn winced inside. Brain-scanning was bad enough. If done less than expertly, the process created permanent damage and learning problems. Force-conditioning wasn’t much better than an ancient lobotomy or a Caelaarnan partial brain transplant. The body was the same, but mental functions were greatly diminished, and initiative was almost non ex is tent. “Why?”

“They claimed there were secret agents of The Fifty everywhere, especially anyone associated with TechOversight.” Rhyana glanced back eastward.

The level surface of the canal wall was empty of figures or vehicles.

“I did bring some supplies…had to be those left in the wheeler. Would have liked to have brought my rifle. Couldn’t risk going back into the depot,” added the driver. “Would have liked to have used it.”

Too bad she couldn’t
, Eltyn private-pulsed.

Agree
³
.

“You think I could stay here?”

“You’re welcome to.” Faelyna smiled. “It’s severe. No entertainment, except a few cubes we brought.”

“Brought my own favorite cubes, the ones I carry with me for when I have to wait,” admitted Rhyana. “Couldn’t see staying. First thing they did was grab Kealyn and force-condition him to tell everything about anything. Heard that, and I sneaked off and took the wheeler.”

“Kealyn’s just a driver,” said Eltyn. “Why would they do that?”

“Said drivers know what everyone does.”

“How soon do you think they’ll be headed here?” asked Faelyna.

The delivery woman shook her head. “I don’t know. They came in from the north side of the canal on an old SEV. I took the only wheeler they weren’t using. They had the others carry stuff from where they tied up the SEV, down on the floating dock. Their team was armed. There weren’t that many, maybe twenty.” She paused, then added, “I thought you might have some way to hide or defend yourselves.”

“We’re working on it,” replied Faelyna. “The station is impervious to explosives and energy weapons, but the entries can’t be blocked.”
Not at the moment
, she private-pulsed to Eltyn. “You should know that, but you’re welcome to stay. We do have food. It’s mostly dry-condensed, but not bad.”

Rhyana shuddered, looking southward at the sandy dunes and scattered cacti and sagebrush and mesquite. “No place else to go.” She forced a smile. “I can help…do things…”

“We’d appreciate that,” replied Faelyna. “Do you need help unloading?”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother…”

“That’s not a problem,” said Eltyn. “The sooner we get everything inside the better. We might even be able to squeeze your wheeler inside.”

“That’d be good.”

Very good
, pulsed Faelyna to Eltyn.

He nodded.