Eternity's Mind

by Kevin J. Anderson

  Pannebaker returned to the control center. “What the hell is going on, Chief? Who do they think they are?”

  Arita continued, “By order of the King and Queen, you must stop harvesting the bloaters immediately. Your operations are hereby shut down.”

  CHAPTER

  111

  RLINDA KETT

  When their two ships finally reached Fireheart, all hell was breaking loose. Clouds of darkness had cracked open the blazing cauldron of the nebula—and they had to get to the green priests and the terrarium inside. Giant Shana Rei hex ships emerged from the two swelling shadow clouds, and thousands of robot battleships swooped in to harass the ships and facilities.

  “Oh hell, I’ve seen this show before,” Rlinda transmitted. “Never wanted to see it again.”

  Tasia’s response from the Curiosity was clogged with static, partly from the nebula’s ionization and partly from the entropy backwash of the Shana Rei. “This doesn’t look like a place we want to be.”

  “We’d be crazy to go in there,” Robb said.

  “I agree,” said Tasia. “Setting course now.”

  Rlinda had the container of wental water. “I’ll do what needs doing here. You two keep my Curiosity intact, go join Xander and Terry, make something of yourselves. But Jess and Cesca asked me to deliver the wentals, so it’s got to be important.”

  Tasia responded with a rude snort. “You don’t get to have all the fun.”

  Escaping Roamer ships plunged through the dust boundary at the edge of the nebula and flew helter-skelter into space. Many were pursued by robot ships, but the pilots flew erratically enough to avoid destruction.

  The comm channels were awash with the urgent chatter of distress calls. As she flew into the bright gases, Rlinda saw CDF battleships inside the nebula, as well as Solar Navy warliners that were all reeling out of control. Focused on her mission, she spotted the glint of the terrarium dome. Not much time—the battle was raging all around. Rlinda muttered under her breath, “I hope they know what to do with this wental water.”

  “Right now, maybe the green priests just need to be rescued,” Tasia responded.

  “In that case, I’m at their service. On my way.”

  In the space battle within the nebula, vastly outnumbered CDF Mantas crashed into the robot ships. Angular black vessels were torn to scrap metal by a flurry of jazer blasts, but four Mantas also exploded under the barrage of return fire. The Ildiran ships swirled about drunkenly, taking heavy fire—against which they failed to respond.

  Urgent distress calls came from the Fireheart admin hub. Shuttle craft and shielded inspection pods were flying out, desperate to get away, but they were short-range ships and far too slow to escape. The black robots picked them off.

  Tasia transmitted, “Shizz, look around the nebula. What happened to the giant hole in space from the Big Ring? It’s gone!”

  On the screen, Robb looked at her in surprise. “With everything going on, that’s what you’re wondering about?”

  From the admin center, Howard Rohandas sent a priority transmission: “We’re in the laboratory module. We have all of Kotto Okiah’s data as well as the results from the mission exploring the void.”

  Shareen interrupted him, “And it all comes free with any rescue. Any takers? Please?”

  Tasia said to Rlinda, “If you’re going in there, then so are we. After all, we got away from the battle of Earth. How hard can this be?”

  “I won’t argue with that,” Rlinda said. “Kett Shipping always does its job. I’m heading to the greenhouse dome, and I’ll rescue those priests, one way or another.”

  Declan’s Glory split away from the Voracious Curiosity. As both ships dove into the embattled nebula, flashes of detonating sun bombs illuminated the swirling gases, momentarily brighter than the core supergiants. Many Roamer facilities were already obliterated, and black robot ships circled back to destroy the rest.

  As the encroaching shadow clouds sliced into the nebula like executioners’ blades, Declan’s Glory and the Voracious Curiosity flew faster and deeper. Rlinda gripped the silver capsule in her palm, as if it were a talisman. “Come on, BeBob. Give me strength.”

  She flew straight toward the terrarium dome, which was surrounded by contruction girders and a partially finished expansion. As she closed the distance, she could see the crowded trees pressing up against the crystalline plates. Obviously, the outer dome wasn’t going to be finished after all. She hoped Celli and Solimar were still inside the greenhouse, otherwise this would be a wasted effort. On the other hand, the two green priests would have been smart to evacuate long before now.

  But why did they need the glowing wental water? Rlinda had enough experience with the water elementals during the previous war that she wasn’t going to second-guess.

  Declan’s Glory docked at the greenhouse. She had to complete the process herself because no one responded to her calls. She bounded out of her ship, glad for the low gravity as she carried the sealed cylinder. “Celli, Solimar! I’ve got something for you.” The wental water felt warm, fizzing with energy. “Celli!” She raised her voice. “Come on, girl.”

  The main greenhouse chamber was filled with thrashing, restless worldtrees. The gold-barked trunks had expanded and partly split. Some thick branches were broken and dangling. Overhead, the crystal dome showed obvious spiderweb cracks spreading out, and Rlinda felt sudden dread. She had walked right into what would surely be an explosive decompression.

  The two green priests were on the ground against the trees and they lurched to their feet, staring at her in shock. Both of them moved as if they, too, were in terrible pain. “Why are you here, Rlinda?” Celli cried. “You have to go!”

  “You two have to go with me.” She grabbed the young woman’s arm. “Come on, we can fly out in time.”

  “We won’t leave the trees,” Solimar said in a hard resigned voice. “We’ll stay in the verdani mind to the end.”

  Celli groaned. “You should be evacuating with everyone else! Leave us—it’s over here.”

  Rlinda held up the container of throbbing water. “I had to bring this. Jess and Cesca told me you needed it. The wentals insisted.”

  “But what…” Solimar asked.

  Celli’s eyes brightened. “Wental water … and the trees! Yes, Rlinda—yes!” She snatched the container out of Rlinda’s hands. “This is exactly what we needed.”

  Solimar looked at Celli, as if they both shared a deep secret. “Yes, that would work. Far better than just dying here.”

  “Glad you agree,” Rlinda said. “Now let’s take the water and get out of here. I can’t guarantee my ship can outfly those bugbots, but I’ll give it my best—and that’s usually good enough.”

  “No. Now, more than ever, we’re staying here,” Solimar said. “Leave us. We’ll be fine.”

  Celli urged, “The wental water won’t help you, Rlinda, so you have to get away.” She looked up at the towering, stunted trees. “But we have what we need.”

  CHAPTER

  112

  TOM ROM

  Harassed by the manta-like bloaters, the embattled shadow cloud withdrew from Pergamus and folded back into the void, leaving nothing behind. The bloaters swirled around in empty space, destroying a few straggler robot ships that had been abandoned by the Shana Rei, and then the strange flying creatures also departed, as if they had accomplished their mission.

  Tom Rom and Zoe were alone near a dead planet. His damaged ship drifted at the edge of the star system, undetected—and that made them safer than they had been for some time. He and Zoe had survived. He had saved her. Again. As he always intended to do.

  As his body shook in the afterwash of adrenaline, he turned to glance at her. Zoe seemed pale and strained, but she was too strong to be terrified. He had raised her to be strong, throughout terrible adversity, but right now she looked so vulnerable sitting there in the back compartment. Dragged out of her sterile dome without a protective suit, she seemed naked and ex
posed, but she took heart by being next to him.

  “I promised I’d keep you safe,” he said. “I told you we’d get away from Pergamus, that I’d save you from the Shana Rei and the robots.”

  She swallowed and nodded. “I can always count on you, Tom Rom. Where will we go now?”

  “We’ll find a place—we always did before. We’ll be starting over.”

  Her shoulders shuddered and her body was racked with sobs. “But it’s all gone. My wonderful Pergamus—all my data, the research I spent years compiling. My collection!”

  “We’re still alive.” He sounded firm. “Our engines were damaged, but I can probably implement repairs. I know enough about stardrive functionality. I’ll patch us up, and we can make it to some trading outpost. We’ll find a place.”

  He didn’t remind her that Ulio Station was gone. Earth was gone. Other colonies were under attack. Tom Rom knew that the shadows were intent on eradicating human civilization, and so wherever he and Zoe went, they might still find themselves hunted down, targets.

  He would take her someplace alone and safe where they could regroup. He looked out at the emptiness of space, and the scarred planet was just a pinpoint in the distance as the ship limped away. During the escape, he had been hyperfocused, his reflexes sharpened to amazing speed and accuracy; his thoughts had no room for panic, worrying only about the next half second of survival. He was completely consumed by dedication for Zoe, knowing she was with him, knowing he had to survive, that the ship had to survive—for her. And he had done that.

  But he had also faced the awful black cloud, the swarms of deadly robot ships. Even he could not believe that they had gotten away, and now the moment of calm paralyzed him.

  Zoe shook his shoulder. “Tom Rom, are you all right? What’s wrong?”

  He realized to his embarrassment that he had slipped into exhausted unconsciousness, and their damaged ship had continued drifting in space. He woke up, shook his head. “I’m fine.” He placed his hand over hers as it rested on his shoulder—and realized with a start that she was touching him.

  Zoe realized it too, but didn’t withdraw, just kept her hand there. “Should we go back to see if there’s anything left of Pergamus?”

  Tom Rom was certain the planet would just be a blackened wasteland, but she had asked, and so he did as she requested.

  Since his ship had suffered great damage, he didn’t dare take them into the atmosphere, but instead, they ran intensified scans from orbit so Zoe could see with her own eyes the broken research domes, the blackened landscape. Viewing the images, she shook her head, her dark eyes shining with tears. “It’s all gone then. My specimens, my data … my reason for building it…”

  “Not all of it.” He let himself show a relieved smile. “I’m not one to allow for a single point of failure. We’ve been threatened before, and I always protected you. When the Confederation learned about Pergamus, I realized we might have to abandon it, so I took precautions. I kept a complete data backup. Not the actual specimens, but all of your cures and treatments, your studies, your data—everything. I have the complete library files on board this ship.”

  Zoe’s eyes went wide, then filled with tears. “You did that?” Her brow furrowed. “But what if you had lost your ship? What if someone had captured it? All that data could fall—”

  “I protected it, and now it’s still yours.”

  Zoe shuddered and collapsed in her seat. As Tom Rom guided them away from Pergamus, he knew they were on their own—as they always were—and he would find a solution. Because he always found a solution. “I don’t leave things to chance.”

  “I have something, too.” She nodded. “I should have known that I didn’t need to smuggle the sample vial out with me.”

  He was instantly on his guard. “What sample vial?”

  She rose, looking shaky, and left the piloting deck. She went back to the damaged engine compartment where she had stowed her package of rescued belongings. He hadn’t asked her why she would insist on bringing a satchel of keepsakes. Knowing Zoe as well as he did, he couldn’t imagine what she considered so important, and now he followed her to the back with a growing sense of dread. A sample?

  Zoe’s face dropped into dismay as they reached the compartment where the explosion had occurred. While they were under fire from the black robots, the interior shielding had surged, causing a power block to overload. The blast had smashed Zoe’s satchel, torn its fabric, and strewn the contents about the deck. She crept forward, concerned.

  Tom Rom drew in a long, heavy breath. What had she lost? What kind of specimen?

  She seemed oddly stoic when she picked up a smashed vial. He saw blood—but it was an old sample, not hers. “It’s your original blood,” Zoe said. “The Onthos plague … I didn’t want to leave it behind.”

  A deep dread filled him. The blood was on her fingers, but she had already been infected just from the recirculated air. And he had been exposed, too. “Oh, Zoe…”

  “I suppose I’ll be studying it more closely than I ever imagined,” she said.

  Tom Rom felt suddenly, devastatingly helpless. “I … I still have the data on the Onthos plague.” But all the treatments used on him had been vaporized at Pergamus—and even those royal jelly treatments were no longer effective, since the plague organism had mutated. The new strain was proof against even the cure that the Pergamus researchers had worked so hard to develop.

  Because he had already survived the plague, he might have immunity. He hoped he remained healthy long enough to care for Zoe at least.

  He wiped the blood from her fingers. She seemed in shock. He wrapped his arms around her and led her back to the piloting deck. “It’ll be fine,” he said. “You’ll be all right. I’ll take care of you.”

  She gave him a bleak smile. “I know you will.”

  CHAPTER

  113

  TAL GALE’NH

  Gale’nh reeled when he saw the massacre in the banquet hall. The Mage-Imperator had slain all those courtiers and noble kithmen with his own hands, and he had even tried to strangle his beloved Nira, Gale’nh’s mother!

  Yazra’h’s voice was cold. “If the Mage-Imperator has fallen to the creatures of darkness, then we have all fallen. Ildirans are now a race of shadows.”

  After Jora’h fled to his chambers, Nira coughed and choked, rubbing her throat and struggling to recover. Her voice was raspy. “Don’t give up hope! We have to save him.”

  Gale’nh felt as if ice water washed through his veins. “He begged me to teach him how to fight the Shana Rei, but I couldn’t give him what he needed. I didn’t know how.” He clenched his fists. “I didn’t know!”

  “He is desperate and in despair.” Nira forced the words out of her damaged larynx. “Save him!” She went into a long coughing spasm.

  “We can all feel it.” Yazra’h thumped the end of her katana on the bloodstained tile floor, but she didn’t know how to fight an intangible enemy like this.

  Nira finally got her voice under control again. “I’m afraid Jora’h is going to do something foolish. We dare not leave him alone.”

  “Come! If the Mage-Imperator needs us,” Gale’nh said, “then how can we respond other than to offer everything we have?”

  Yazra’h said, “If we are going to die, I would rather die fighting the shadows, than be paralyzed with misery.”

  Though weak, Nira forced herself to her feet. “I have to be with Jora’h.”

  Attenders and guard kithmen followed them, but Muree’n and Yazra’h raced ahead, while Gale’nh helped his mother hurry. Because he was a halfbreed like Muree’n, he didn’t feel the thism with the same clarity as did other Ildirans, but he felt the dread and the violence—and then came slashes of pain. He staggered.

  As they reached the Mage-Imperator’s private chambers, Yazra’h reeled against the crystalline wall. The other Ildirans lurched to a halt as if shock waves had ricocheted through the thism. Nira couldn’t feel any of it, and yet she knew
. “No—Jora’h!”

  Gale’nh yelled back down the corridor, “Call for medical kithmen.” In his heart, though, he knew that the contamination of shadows was not something a doctor could treat.

  The Mage-Imperator had barricaded the doors, and even though attenders and workers pounded on them, he did not respond. Yazra’h knocked the attenders aside and began to batter against the locked door. “Father, let us in.”

  “Jora’h, please!” Nira cried. Her voice was raw and painful, and yelling made her bend over, coughing again.

  Sudden waves of pain rippled through the thism; then another telepathic lightning bolt shuddered into them all.

  “He is hurting himself,” Yazra’h yelled. She and Muree’n redoubled their efforts against the barricade.

  Gale’nh joined them trying to break down the thick door. He himself had found the strength to survive the Shana Rei, and surely the Mage-Imperator was stronger than a mere halfbreed military officer.

  Finally, the murky crystal cracked; the locking mechanism broke. Yazra’h slammed her body against the door, and Muree’n kicked the fragments aside. Gale’nh and the others surged into the bright chamber.

  Nira cried out when she saw Jora’h, and Yazra’h froze with Muree’n beside her.

  The Mage-Imperator had collapsed in the center of the room in a pool of bright sunlight and crimson blood. He clutched a broken crystal shard in one damaged hand next to a framed image of Nira. His slashed forearms spilled his lifeblood in a widening red lake on the floor. His skin looked chalky, ghostly pale. He did not move, did not seem to breathe.

  Gale’nh bent over to cradle his shoulders. Nira was beside him. “Jora’h!” she wailed, touching his face. “Jora’h, don’t leave me.”