Hellfire (THEIRS NOT TO REASON WHY) (69 page)

“I’m getting the feeling I’d like to know what
kind
of thoughts he’s thinking at her,” Helstead quipped, eyeing her two superiors with an amused gleam in her hazel eyes. “Though I’m sure I could guess.”

MacInnes, crystal-gun pointed at the floor, shook her head. “I’m not that suicidal, sir. We just created a Meddler out of our own captain, and I am
not
that suicidal.”

Her vehemence made Ia smile.

MARCH 19, 2497 T.S.

SIC TRANSIT FROM OBERON’S ROCK
GS 138 SYSTEM

…AND JULY 8, 2498 T.S.

The reading lamp behind her living-room easy chair tasted like brie. The milder inner bits of the cheese, not the outer ones. Even though Ia was firmly back in her matter-based body, she still had an awareness of the flavors of various energies around her. The smell of her own soap-scrubbed body, the slightly dusty fabric of the chair, and the faint hints of greenery in the
air flowing through the vents from the amidships-sector lifesupport bay all grounded her firmly in her body, but the reading lamp still tasted like brie.

The datapad, on the other hand, was a spicy snippet of sausage. She kept having to stop herself from trying whenever the urge came back to nibble on it. Her matter-based body did not process electricity the same way her Meddler-based one did.

Yesterday, she had tried to eat energy from the electrodes at the command console while guiding the ship in a protracted starfight over Oberon’s Rock, but all that had done was fill her with excess static energy and make her view of the bridge start to glow. It hadn’t done anything for her physical hunger. In a way, “tasting” the energies in this solid body was very much like smelling the culinary efforts of a restaurant while stuck out on the sidewalk with no credits in her pockets.

Right,
she thought, saving her latest prophecy.
That’s that, and it goes into the Afaso delivery file. Now for the preshipment of needed supplies to Dabin…though I’d better double-check that they’re still going to be needed. I’m still searching for more of those little frayed tendrils from when Sung snapped the threads of fate.

Closing her eyes and focusing her mind away from the cheese-and-meat glows, she flipped down and in, landing next to her own life-stream. Accessing the timestreams was also easier, brighter, and clearer now that she had manifested. The grass was a lush blue-green, the waters clear and mirror-like even where they rushed and flowed fastest, and the sky was a beautiful shade of blue.

Skipping down the bank, Ia stopped at a point a week or so past a heavy knot of mist. That was one of the nexus points, where her choices would be so vast and her energies would be so low, the Ia of that era wouldn’t be able to foresee what to do. Her future self would have to rely upon her training as an officer, her instincts as a warrior, and her grasp of overall strategy to guide the tactics of that moment.

The moment she did want, which involved herself working in the local capital, was downstream from that point. Her elder self worked diligently in the version she selected, filling out orders for the struggling, battle-wearied soldiers under her command. Stepping down into the water, Ia readied herself to
read those orders since she wouldn’t be able to read her own thoughts.
So let’s just see exactly what the Afaso need to send and hide on Harper’s homeworld…

(
About time you showed up.
)

Ia jerked up out of the water and back into herself, fumbling to keep the workpad on her lap before her jolt could dump it to the floor. She looked around, wide-eyed, for signs of Belini, though that voice hadn’t belonged to her. Alone in her quarters, Ia slowly relaxed, puzzled by what she had heard.
That…wasn’t the voice of any of my crew members. In fact, it sounded like
me,
but…not my
own
thoughts. There’s a distinct difference between my own thoughts and a telepathic sending.

Confused, she waited for another sending, but nothing happened. Mindful of the ticking of the minutes she had left in her day, she sank back into the timeplains and moved back to the designated insertion spot. Once more, she stepped into the waters of her future self…and once more jumped in startlement.

(
Don’t freak again,
) she heard herself state, her tone dry. (
You really
are
hearing me—your future me—talking to you.
)

Blinking, Ia pressed closer to herself. Her future self pressed back, pushing her up out of the stream. Startled, Ia stumbled onto the bank, dropping to elbows and rump in the grass. Her older self stepped…
stepped
…up out of her own life-stream and crouched by her feet. And then grinned in amusement.

(
Don’t you look shocked…Wait until you can see your expression from
this
side of things,
) the future version of Ia stated. She held out her hand. (
Come on. Sit up. I’m going to share with you the list of things you’ll need them to buy and stash, and a couple extra places to stash them.
)

Hesitantly, she extended her own hand, clasping the other version’s palm. (
How…what the…huh?
)

(
About as coherent as I remembered it, afterward.
) Tightening her grip, Future-Ia looked into her eyes, her amber ones showing hints of silver flecks. (
Manifesting as a Feyori has put a fine polish on our powers. More to the point, it has
finished
their blossoming. All you need to do now is learn how to use the extra bits. But
be careful.)

Those fingers squeezed Ia’s with a distinct pressure, reminding her that even in the timeplains, she was accessing them from a physical body, not a Feyori one.

(
Yes, you can now not only contact yourself, but read your own thoughts,
) her future self warned her. (
But doing it casually will lead to doing it carelessly, and
that
will lead to paradoxically induced confusion. You will be able to see this in the side-timelines, if you look. Resist temptation, don’t try to contact yourself any earlier than this, and you’ll be fine.
)

(
Ah…right. Right,
) Ia agreed. This
was
herself, without a doubt. (
Ah…best piece of advice for right now?
)

Her future self smiled slightly. (
Three things. Make doubly sure your agents among the Afaso get that portable hyperrelay purchased and hidden away. Avoid stepping into the life-waters of other Feyori—they
will
sense your presence
and
be able to speak with you from now on if you tried it. And
don’t
let Belini touch you. Resist her urgings to manifest for now. It may seem to cause problems in the Meddler scenarios, but you’ll lose a powerful edge when Miklinn’s little pawn-army comes for you if they know you can transform at any point before then.
)

(
…Right.
) Even without touching the timestreams for that moment, not all that far upstream from this one, Ia could see the difference that sort of advantage would make. (
Right, I know that particular possibility-scenario. I didn’t think it was a strong enough probability, but if you say…er, if
we
say so, then I’ll go for it,
) she agreed, gathering her wits. Hands still clasped, she let her older self help her to stand up on the bank. (
So, what’s on that list aside from the hyperrelay?
)

It came across as a pulse of thought. Ia embraced it, as familiar in flavor as her own, and carefully secured it in a corner of her upper thoughts. Older-Ia nodded encouragingly. (
…Got it?
)

(
Yes. And we’ll both resist the urge to linger in your…our…presence. This is going to take a lot of thought to come to grips with,
) she added, letting go of her other self’s hand.

(
Get some more crysium and make some special wreaths out of it,
) Elder-Ia told her. (
You’ll see the exact life-paths the new Rings of Truth should influence. You’ll need to lose about a week’s worth of sleep within a year, but the price isn’t bad.
)

(
No, it wouldn’t be,
) she agreed. Eyeing herself, a deep part of her mind wondered how this could happen. Another part prodded her into an impulsive move. Wrapping her arms around her older self, she hugged. (
Thank you,
) Ia sent. (
Thank you for all that you’ve done, and all that you’re going to do.
)

(
Thank you yourself,
) she got in return, along with a squeeze, and a push back. (
Now get back to work. And don’t forget to sleep, and all that other self-care
shakk.)

Ia peered at her future face, noting the shadows under her older self’s eyes, the worry-frown beginning to crease her otherwise young brow. (
Don’t forget that for yourself.
)

Amused, the older version stepped back into the waters and vanished. Bemused, the younger one stared at the rippling stream, then shook her head and started trudging back up the gentle slope.

That has got to be the
weirdest
…!
She stopped after a moment, taking the extralong span of seconds within the timestreams to just contemplate the awe of what had happened.
I just…I just
talked
with myself. I’ve broken the Time-barrier of…of vidshow versus reality…! I never once checked the time
plains
for temporal anomalies. Just the streams themselves.

“Slag me,” she whispered, letting the winds of the prairie carry her stunned words across time. “Just freaking
slag
me…”

CHAPTER 16

Interstellar warfare isn’t won in a single year. Hell, ground-based warfare is rarely over in a single year, particularly not when the two sides are fairly evenly matched. The Salik and the Choya did their best to smash our support infrastructure. We did our best to smash theirs. They tried to shatter our fleets while strengthening and rebuilding theirs. We tried to shatter and strengthen and rebuild as well.

Some of that was successful. Some of it was not. Lives were lost, prisoners taken and eaten, colonists and soldiers and cities were saved, while others were destroyed. The various militaries of the Alliance couldn’t be everywhere, but neither could our foe. There was time to heal, time to repair, time to rebuild and build more. And time to be castigated for not moving faster, for not doing better.

The best I could do, however, was march along to the drumbeats of Fate.

~Ia

JULY 13, 2497 T.S.

ZUBENESCHAMALI SYSTEM

This time, she was still awake. Still clad in her grey slacks and paler grey shirt, too, though she had taken off her black ship boots and had her sock-clad feet levered up on the footrest of
her easy chair. This time, Belini appeared in a set of black tights and tunic trimmed with red edging. At least, when she coalesced into a matter-based body, after popping into view like a silvery soap bubble in reverse.

“…If you think your colormood choice will frighten me, I’m not intimidated by death, and I am not swayed by rage,” Ia stated calmly, scrolling up through the text of her precognitive missive on the workpad screen. This one was a message to her family, requesting them to separate out a few more sprays for her to convert. She wouldn’t get to see them for over a year, but she liked having things prepared in advance. A thought that amused her.

“Smile all you want; you are trying my patience,” the not-pixie snapped. Hands on her hips, she strode across the carpet and stopped next to Ia’s chair. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not even
trying
to manifest?”

“I don’t have to try,” Ia told her. She sealed the message to her brothers and opened the next. “My ability to manifest will reveal itself in the right place, at the right time. In the meantime…I now have the politics of the Dlmvlan Queen High Nestors’ court to redirect.” She lifted the pad in her hands, tilting it briefly at the other woman to show the electrokinetically composed words filling the screen. She tipped it back her way and shrugged. “I’m not sure I’ve used enough of a mix of logic and illogic to sway them. I’m good at the logic part, and not too bad at drawing absurd analogies, but I’m not a poet laureate.”

“I don’t give a radioactive
fart
about the Dlmvlan High Nestor,” Belini snapped. “That part of the Game isn’t in my way.
You
are in my way.”

Ia looked up from her notes. “I give you my word, I will manifest in the right place, at the right time.”

“Ha! What good is your word?” the Feyori argued, and pointed off to one side. “Every day you fail to prove you are a player and not a pawn is a day that
I
lose face! Mcuinn and Gzikk are already positioning themselves to scoop up chunks of
my
plays.”

Slanting her an annoyed look, Ia unclipped the datapad resting on the table next to her armchair. “Here is a list of instructions on how you can position your influences to outflank theirs by the rules of the Game. And
yes
, this will work by the
rules of Feyori politics,” she added, seeing the Meddler narrow her eyes in doubt. “Belini, when have I ever been wrong?”

That made the not-pixie snort with mirth. Hands on her hips, she surveyed the white-haired Human. “How short the memory span is in your mother’s species. Private Sung? Private N’Keth?”

Sighing, Ia waggled the second pad, gesturing for her to take it. “When have I ever been wrong about something
I
can control? If you take this information, the only person after that who could screw it up is
you
. Are you a screwup? Or are you a Meddler, a galactic reshaper of lives and worlds?”

Belini snatched the pad from Ia’s grasp, not noticing that Ia subtly tossed it upward a little, letting her hand drop to prevent contact. “If I
do
screw this up, I’m still going to blame you.”

It was Ia’s turn to choke on a laugh. Well, a chuckle. She let her humor fade as Belini raised her brows in surprise, then lowered them in a scowl.

“…
This
is idiotic,” Belini finally growled. “You have me giving ground, with these instructions! Concessions right and left, up and down, even helically spiraled…!”

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