Eternity's Mind

by Kevin J. Anderson

  She looked at Osira’h, too. “Both of you, use the data I gathered from my expeditions. So many specimens, so many tests—something will work against the microfungus. There’s hope, don’t forget that.”

  “We will keep searching,” Osira’h said. “The researchers have all the data from Pergamus. We will identify the correct specimen in time.”

  “We will,” Reyn said. But he was not doing well at all since their return from the blighted trees in the Wild.

  The battle for the festering forest remained unresolved, and the green priests were desperately using the worldforest mind in hopes of fighting the Onthos infestation, but the horrific attacks of the Shana Rei had taken priority.

  Arita and Collin boarded the Prodigal Son, ready to go. The young green priest carried a potted treeling so he could stay in contact with the verdani mind, but Osira’h knew he just wanted to be with Arita.

  As they watched the Prodigal Son streak up into the sky, Reyn looked longingly after the ship, as if he wanted to go away as well.

  Osira’h kept her voice hopeful. “When you get better, I can think of so many things to show you on Ildira. I already took you out to see the faeros inside Durris-B, but there is so much more across the Empire.” Her eyes sparkled as she talked in a rush, trying to spark his imagination. “The ice geysers under the auroras of Edilyn are supposed to be spectacular, and the rainbow strata in the fossil canyons on Fornu are so remarkable even the Mage-Imperator says he wants to visit there. There’s so much that I’ve wanted to see too, but I would rather have someone at my side. It is less enjoyable sightseeing all alone.”

  “Sounds exhausting,” Reyn said, then smiled. “But I would like to see some of those things with you. We could look at images together.” Weary, he sat down on the tightly woven canopy surface.

  She sat cross-legged beside him. “Images are only images, and they can’t match real experiences. I want to take you there in person—when you’re better.”

  “If I get better,” he said.

  “When you get better.”

  “All right, I’ll go with you—when I get better.”

  They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments; then Osira’h asked, “And are there places you’d like to show me in the Confederation? I have not seen much of it.”

  “Neither have I,” Reynald said.

  “But where would you like to go?”

  He considered. “Fireheart Station looks spectacular, and the Roamers have established some interesting settlements in cold comet fields and fiery lava planets.” He looked up in the sky again, where the Prodigal Son was long gone. “We should have asked my sister. She’s been to a lot more places than I have.”

  “Wherever you choose, we will go there together,” Osira’h said.

  He gave her a quick smile. “When I get better.” Even under the rejuvenating Theron sunshine, though, his skin looked paler and grayer than ever.

  Reyn suddenly tensed, his entire body clenching as if a rampant electrical storm had just raged through his nerve network. He hissed, and a tear of pain curled out of his eye. She knew there was little she could do, but even so, Osira’h wrapped her arms around him and just held him on the canopy until the waves of pain passed. They sat under the bright Theron sunlight and listened to the buzz of insects and flying spaceships, the rustle of worldtree fronds.

  He climbed to his feet and tried to sound strong. “I’ll be fine.”

  Osira’h took his arm. “Don’t lie to me. There’s no need to keep secrets.” So far no treatment, not even the Kuivahr kelp extracts, had proved to be effective for long. The first synthetic drug based on the kelp samples had just arrived from a pharmaceutical company, but it showed only limited efficacy. Based on the Pergamus research, teams had tested tens of thousands of Theron specimens for the chromosomal pairing to battle the blight inside him, but so far there was no molecular match. And there were still millions of choices to study.

  Nevertheless, Reyn was better off here, surrounded by the energy of the worldforest. “Let me get you back to your room.” Osira’h propped him up and led him along.

  “If a beautiful woman insists on leading me back to my room alone, I won’t turn down the offer.” He smiled at her, and his color looked healthier. They climbed into a lift that took them down into the green-lit sanctuary of the midlevels of the trees. Below, Roamer clan representatives were delivering summaries to Confederation officials, and a few refugees from Earth arrived on Theroc, frantically reporting the news. General Keah had nearly finished her preparations for the great expedition to Fireheart Station.

  Osira’h’s main concern was Reyn. She believed him when he suggested that if the blighted forest were cured, then he would be cured. When she led him into his quarters, she thought he looked like a ghost of himself. Confronting the Gardeners and entering that blighted fortress in the Wild had dimmed his feeble spark of life, but he kept on. Osira’h believed he was doing it for her.

  “Maybe we could play that Ildiran strategy game you wanted to teach me,” he said.

  Then he collapsed. Reyn’s knees simply surrendered, and he dropped to the floor, sprawling flat.

  “Reyn!” His skin had gone cold and clammy. His eyes fell shut. He made no sound of pain; he simply seemed to have fallen dead in the chamber. She held him, cradled his head, touched his neck, and was relieved to find a pulse—a faint and thready one, but it was there. She raised her voice, calling out, “Help! The Prince needs medical attention.”

  She knew there were no secrets in the worldforest. The trees sensed everything, and through them, the green priests knew what was happening. Now she hoped someone was indeed listening in.

  The trees heard, and the green priests heard. Theron doctors rushed into his room within moments. Together, they lifted him onto the bed, trying to make him more comfortable, but Reyn was completely unconscious, deep in a coma.

  No matter what medication they tried or what stimulus they used, no one could wake him up.

  CHAPTER

  86

  CELLI

  Inside the tense terrarium dome in the middle of the nebula, both Celli and Solimar allowed their minds to drift free and roam throughout the strands of the telink network. Their minds throbbed with hurt and grief from the devastation they found on other worlds, and their bodies ached with sympathetic pain from the trapped pair of worldtrees. When Celli touched the gold bark scales, the suffering trees shuddered. She could feel the heartwood tremble like a tightly coiled spring.

  She could only hope the new hemisphere would be finished soon enough.

  Outside, Roamer construction engineers in exosuits built up the base around the terrarium, installing girders and extensions to the main platform, then extended high arches that curved up and over the existing dome. She silently urged them to work faster.

  These worldtrees were doomed unless the extended dome could be completed in time—and Celli felt responsible for it. She and Solimar had naïvely brought the treelings here fifteen years earlier, glad to see them thrive in the nebula light, how swiftly they grew.

  That was during the heady construction days of Fireheart Station. The Roamers were expanding their food-production systems to accommodate the station’s increased population, and as green priests, she and Solimar were happy to help with agriculture and communication. They sent messages wherever needed.

  Once Kotto Okiah had come up with his grand idea for the Big Ring experiment, she and Solimar were busy sending hundreds of instant communications to Roamer clans, to Newstation, and across the Spiral Arm in hopes of garnering support and funding. Together, they had kept extremely busy, consumed with the dynamic success of Fireheart. They served a necessary purpose, which was perfectly suited to their abilities—telink was the only way to send messages through the turbulence of the nebula. Celli and Solimar had felt so needed. They were happy with what they’d been doing.

  Somehow, the point at which the trees could have been transplanted and saved passed them by.
Bathed in the radiation of the blue supergiant stars at the heart of the nebula, the worldtrees had grown at an astonishing rate. Now it was much too late. Kotto’s two research assistants had proposed an emergency solution, and it just might work.

  But Celli and Solimar still had duties to do.

  They had transmitted messages through telink, spreading Kotto’s idea of infiltrating the lair of the Shana Rei. She and Solimar helped to arrange the CDF and Solar Navy attack, and soon the strike force would arrive, ready to hit the creatures of darkness from a point of possible vulnerability.

  Solimar stroked the giant trunk. “We haven’t been this busy in five years.” He winced at the pain in his back and shoulders.

  All day long they filtered communications that came in, listened to discussions throughout telink, talked to other green priests, and heard the reports of Shana Rei attacks. As they communicated with the green priests, they imparted their dismay about the trapped worldtrees. Even if the expanded dome were completed in time, it was only a temporary solution.

  Each tree was part of the overall verdani network, but Celli and Solimar felt closer to these particular trees, their worldtrees. Green priests were also one vast network, countless human minds that could all tap into the forest database, and now they all felt the same pain.

  Outside in the nebula, the Roamer engineers continued to build around the terrarium, working frantically.

  Meanwhile, the restored Fireheart operations continued at full speed. Chief Alu had focused on power-block production so they could fulfill long-standing orders. Isotope factories packaged exotic materials to be sent to research stations and experimental reactors on far-flung colonies.

  And now the CDF and the Solar Navy were on their way to fight the Shana Rei through the hole in the nebula.

  Celli knew the expanded greenhouse dome would take at least two more weeks to complete. Exhausted and filled with visions, she withdrew her hands from the bark and sat back. Solimar gathered her into his arms, holding her against his broad chest. They lay together in silence, leaning against the trunks and listening to the stir of worldtree fronds as nebula light poured in. The trees couldn’t stop growing.

  As Celli looked up at the swatch of stars and colorful gases through the crystalline dome, she heard a loud, thin crack, and she saw the first hairline fracture zigzag across the stressed greenhouse pane.

  CHAPTER

  87

  EXXOS

  In turmoil, the Shana Rei were more intractable than ever—and more dangerous. Sixteen of their shadow clouds had collapsed out in the universe, forced to coalesce by some incredibly powerful outside force, until in a flash of painful light the clouds ignited to become new stars.

  Exxos and his robots wanted to keep killing humans on planet after planet, but for all their inconceivable powers, the creatures of darkness were in a manic, unfocused rage, simply preying on things that were helpless. Capriciously destructive, they broke down and disassembled ten thousand Exxos robots—robots they themselves had just created—degrading the dark matter that comprised them and unmaking them into nothingness again. The Shana Rei had created them, and the Shana Rei could reverse creation as well.

  Exxos argued, but the shadows would not listen. It was a stupid and pointless waste of materials, and he needed to make the Shana Rei see how foolish they were being. Considering the incomprehensible force that fought against their chaos, Exxos feared the creatures of darkness would shy away from the kind of massive attack they had done on Earth. And if the robots suffered damage and losses in such a battle, would the distressed Shana Rei be willing to restore them, as before? He wasn’t even sure the shadows would replace the ten thousand robot victims they had just maliciously eliminated.

  These allies were maddening.

  He had to find a less risky way to spread death among human populations, one that did not require gigantic robot fleets. The shadows’ interest in Tamo’l and her research at Pergamus gave Exxos an idea, and he knew the Shana Rei must already see the possibilities.

  The robots knew how destructive those virulent pathogens could be. Humans were vulnerable—terribly vulnerable. And the tangled, wire-thin connections into Tamo’l granted the Shana Rei access to a previously unknown deadly weapon.

  In the turbulence of the lightless void, the Exxos copies linked together and attempted to focus the frenzied inkblots. “Your energies are wasted in destroying my robots. We need to keep killing humans,” Exxos insisted. “Think of your priority. Now is the time we should continue our attack.”

  One of the smudged inkblots hovered in front of his optical sensors, its singular eye blazing but unfocused, as if it were going blind. “It is impossible. With Eternity’s Mind, the pain of human sentience is no longer our priority.”

  “You have more than one priority,” Exxos said. “And I have an efficient way to wipe out the human race without exposing us to further dangerous engagements.” Neither the robots nor the Shana Rei wanted to endure the wild destruction of hundreds of sun bombs again. “We can make the humans extinct if you will assist in one more battle. A small battle, but a necessary one.”

  The creatures of darkness swirled about like bat wings. “What battle? How would this be possible?”

  “With the diseases at Pergamus. You already know about them. We can go there, seize Tamo’l, and take the stockpile of deadly viruses. If we unleash them, we would spread death throughout the human-settled planets. We could kill them and keep killing them across the Spiral Arm, without any further effort from you. It would be a self-propagating extermination. The hundreds of plagues would kill them all.”

  “That is not as satisfying as overt destruction,” one of the inkblots said.

  Exxos agreed. “Nor is it as immediate, but it will produce the results we seek. It will kill many of them quickly, and that will provide relief to the Shana Rei. Meanwhile, we will still be able to hunt down and wipe out the rest. More personally.”

  The shadows were disorganized, agitated, and unreliable. Exxos was growing increasingly frustrated with them. In a thought that rippled across nearly a million identical robot minds, he wondered if it might be time just to trigger the entropy-freezing plan, to shatter and shut down the creatures of darkness and cut his own losses.

  But not yet. He still needed the Shana Rei to accomplish other goals, and before the shadows were exterminated, he had to have as many robot counterparts as possible. He still required these insanely powerful allies. For now.

  “Only one attack on Pergamus,” he pushed. “We know from Tamo’l that the planet has few defenses, so our victory there will be easy. Through her eyes you have already seen the disease stockpiles locked in their vaults. And when we unleash those plagues on populated worlds, you know what those diseases will do.”

  In fact, Exxos wasn’t sure whether or not the shadows understood pathogens and mortality rates. “Trust us,” he said. “I have proved that we understand your need for destruction, so let us achieve that destruction for you. If we remove the agony of sentience by killing humans and Ildirans, you will then have more strength to fight Eternity’s Mind. Think how it makes sense.”

  The creatures of darkness were so chaotic that Exxos was not sure they could understand cause and effect, but he hoped they would listen to him.

  Finally, the pulsing inkblots agreed. “Yes. We will engulf Pergamus, seize the deadly diseases … and destroy the rest. Then we will loose all the plagues on humanity.”

  “Good,” Exxos said. “That is a perfect plan.”

  CHAPTER

  88

  TASIA TAMBLYN

  After the heart-wrenching dismay from the destruction of Earth, Tasia found some joy in visiting her brother at Academ. Not only was Jess family, the two of them shared many experiences—wonderful ones as well as terrifying ones. They had both witnessed the destruction of worlds … more than once, in fact.

  Rlinda insisted on joining Tasia and Robb as they shuttled over to the glowing comet. Most of the s
tudents had transferred away as a precautionary measure against the increased wental activity, but Jess and Cesca had stayed behind. Jess had sent Tasia a mysterious message. “I have a mission for you—I know you can help out.”

  Rlinda shook her head as the Curiosity docked in Academ’s landing bay. “Strangeness after strangeness.” She looked at the oddly shimmering ice walls. “I’d prefer a boring retirement where all I have to do is manage a restaurant and worry about Zachary Wisskoff insulting the customers.” She sighed and looked at the silver capsule in her wide palm. “BeBob was always a calming influence. I’m glad he’s resting in peace, but I wouldn’t mind having him around right now.”

  The comet seemed alive and vibrant, and when Tasia inhaled, she smelled ozone in the processed air. Even if the elemental beings were allies, it was probably best that the Roamer children had gone back to Newstation. A few determined students and Teacher compies remained inside the comet, but Academ was mostly empty.

  When Jess and Cesca came to greet them in the landing bay, Tasia ran to give her brother a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and swung her in an arc in the low gravity. Tasia felt like his young sister again, a spunky teenager at the family ice mines on Plumas.

  “I see you’re still getting into trouble,” he said, “and leaving plenty of problems in your wake.”

  Robb looked around, blinking against the glow in the walls. “I remember when you two were charged with all that wental energy.”

  “It’s not the same this time,” Jess said. “The wentals are different now.”

  Cesca interrupted, “Everything is different since the Elemental War. I wish the wentals were back and strong. Then they could be fighting the Shana Rei with us.”

  Tasia said, “The Shana Rei are more dangerous than the hydrogues ever were. They’re everywhere.”