Eternity's Mind

by Kevin J. Anderson

  Blood oozed out of his mangled arms, but very little was left inside him. Gale’nh remembered the terrible story of the Ahlar Designate, who had bled himself to death to get the shadows out of his bloodstream. He realized that was what Jora’h had been trying to do.

  A whisper of words came out of the Mage-Imperator’s mouth. “It was necessary.”

  The Ildirans were panicked into near catatonia as the Mage-Imperator was dying. Medical kithmen staggered into the room, but they were just as frozen, just as terrified.

  With the faintest remnant of his voice, Jora’h said, “Is it running true? Is my blood…?”

  On the floor Gale’nh saw that some of the spilled blood had swirling undercurrents of blackness, threads of shadow that darkened the crimson … but the last trickles from the wounds in his arms were red and pure.

  “He has lost too much blood,” said one of the medical kithmen, staring in shock. “Too much for us to save him.”

  “You can save him because you must,” Yazra’h snapped.

  “But we have nothing. If he is tainted—”

  Gale’nh looked up. “Take mine! Use my blood to save him.”

  Nira whirled to face Gale’nh. “Will that work? Can he take your blood?”

  The medical kithmen said, “The Mage-Imperator can accept blood from all Ildirans. But if it is tainted again…”

  “It’s not tainted,” Gale’nh said. “I survived the shadows. I was strong enough, and he needs my blood. He asked for my help. I did not know how to help him then, but this will give him what he requires—from me. I think it carries immunity.”

  Jora’h seemed so still, but Gale’nh knew that the Ildiran leader clung to life because once a Mage-Imperator died, all of his people would fall into paroxysms of grief and helplessness.

  “We do not have much time.” Muree’n grabbed the doctors and plucked the sharp-edged fragment out of Jora’h’s hand. “Take my brother’s blood. Do it now—or do I have to open his veins myself?”

  Gale’nh bared his arm. “Save him. My blood should grant him immunity. If he’s purged himself of the shadows within, then it may be the only way for the Ildiran race to survive.”

  The doctors swarmed around him and Jora’h. They hauled the Mage-Imperator out of the pool on the floor, as if fearing that the tainted blood might contaminate them.

  Gale’nh felt the sharp jab of needles piercing his arm, but he closed his eyes and thought of the light, thought of how he himself had pushed the shadows away from him. As his blood flowed into Jora’h, he made up his mind to give everything, every drop of his life, if that was what the Mage-Imperator needed.

  CHAPTER

  114

  ROD’H

  The blackness inside the entropy bubble seemed darker and more painful than before. He feared more for Tamo’l than for himself. Rod’h had endured his own agony for so long, and he had refused to give the Shana Rei and Exxos the information they demanded. He had wanted to die so many times, but they kept him alive, re-creating him without diminishing the torments to his psyche.

  Death would be surrender, and he had tried to surrender … but he was still here. And now they had trapped Tamo’l as well.

  He’d been unable to stop the black robots from savaging the research domes on Pergamus. Exxos had gloated to Rod’h over the plan as they approached the plague library, revealing how they would seize all the deadly organisms and spread them throughout the Spiral Arm. But the disease stockpile had fail-safe systems that prevented the robots from obtaining any samples. Those safety systems had not protected Tamo’l, however. The shadows had seized her at the last moment, swept her away from the sterilization blasts. They had taken her prisoner, just as they held him.

  Rod’h hoped he could use that. Maybe they could do something together. Now that his sister was here, perhaps they could find some way to join their abilities, to fight back. They were both halfbreeds, and they had unexpected ways to resist. The Shana Rei were not omnipotent, and Rod’h had begun to notice cracks in their invincibility, failures, small defeats.

  Inside the unrelenting darkness, he saw a faint spot of light. Rod’h had witnessed the shadows writhing, felt the clenching fist of some vast mind as gigantic thoughts squeezed the shadow clouds and shoved many of the Shana Rei back into the void, imploding others, igniting stars, and sending the creatures of darkness on the run.

  The Solar Navy and the human military had attacked them from within the void, unleashing a ferocious storm of sun bombs directly where the shadows went to hide, and the creatures of darkness were badly wounded.

  Yes, he could still experience hope.

  Tamo’l floated with him here now, her arms outstretched, her pale face filled with empty horror. “Where are we?” Her voice came from a great distance. “What are they going to do with us?”

  Rod’h wished he had a better answer. “We are nowhere—there aren’t any definitions that make sense. And they won’t let us go.” He paused for a long moment. “We are now their test subjects, but we can learn from them, too.”

  “Learn? What can we know about the Shana Rei?” She seemed lost. “They were inside me, Rod’h. And now I … am inside them.”

  “You and I can see the shadows in ways that no one else can.” He felt the energy trembling within him, a change from the crippling helplessness. “They are afraid of something—a powerful mind has been fighting them, hurting them from the outside.”

  Tamo’l let out a long moan. “I’m not as strong as you, and not as strong as Gale’nh either. The shadows found a way inside me. They used my mind. They saw through my thoughts.”

  “But they’re being beaten now,” Rod’h said. “Many of their shadow clouds are collapsing.”

  Tamo’l shook her head as she drifted in the empty prison. “It won’t be enough. I saw them attack Pergamus. There are millions of robots.…”

  Suddenly, they felt ripples in the void, an agony that seemed to tear the Shana Rei apart. Even here, far from the core of the battle, Rod’h could feel exotic defenses out in the universe. He wished more than anything that he could find some way to assist the others fighting the shadows. “Come closer. Try to join your mind with mine, like when we were children.”

  She tried, and he was able to extend his own thoughts to connect with hers, to share strength with his sister. And as he strained, concentrating so hard that his head throbbed, he also felt Osira’h … and Gale’nh, and Muree’n. All far away. And even Nira, their mother, who had not been able to connect before.

  They all understood that he and Tamo’l were here, lost. So close to him, so infinitely distant, Tamo’l asked, “We are both trapped, aren’t we, Rod’h?” When his sister looked at him, her eyes seemed to glow in the darkness.

  He would not lie to her. “I know of no way we can escape, but I’m more intent on finding a way that you and I can fight. We are here inside the heart of the shadow clouds.” He raised his voice. “They must be vulnerable somehow. We’ve got to find a way to make a difference—to strike them from inside.”

  Tamo’l drifted close, but because of the physical vagaries of the entropy bubble, no matter how near they were, they remained separated. Rod’h reached out, and he saw his fingers extended. She clutched at him, but they could not connect. They remained apart, as if divided by a cruel fold in dimensional space.

  “We’re still together, regardless.” Rod’h did not let himself feel defeat. “You are my sister. I can sense our halfbreed siblings out there. They know we’re thinking about them.”

  Tamo’l said, with a lilt of wonder brightening her voice, “And the misbreeds—I can feel them, too.”

  Right now, he knew the shadow clouds were plunging into the Fireheart nebula. The creatures of darkness had been wounded from the surprise attack inside the void, and now they were retaliating.

  In a distant muffled fashion he watched the Solar Navy ships and the Confederation Defense Forces. He saw the Roamer facilities, the blazing supergiant stars … and the
encroaching shadow clouds kept growing, ready to swallow it all. But he and Tamo’l were trapped here.

  In the black walls of their prison, Rod’h spotted a flurry of inkblot smears, black shapeless forms that were the Shana Rei. Their representational eyes glared at him and Tamo’l. When she cringed, he realized that this was the first time she had seen the creatures of darkness manifest themselves.

  As the shadow blots throbbed, other forms appeared, identical and angular robots, four copies of Exxos. They loomed closer, approaching Tamo’l. Rod’h struggled, trying to reach her, but they ignored him. They had come for his sister, not for him.

  Tamo’l couldn’t move, couldn’t escape. He knew exactly what Exxos meant to do to her, because they had torn apart his body and mind enough times, then spliced them back together again, letting him keep all the memories of the pain.

  Tamo’l screamed, and even though Rod’h could see her, right there, she might as well have been in a different universe. The robots came at her from four sides.

  But something changed suddenly. The Shana Rei stared at them for a moment and then winked out of existence. An instant later, just as the robots extended razor pincers toward Tamo’l, they were yanked away as well.

  The Shana Rei and the robots continued their attack in the Fireheart nebula, leaving Rod’h and Tamo’l alone in the dark, while the rest of the battle raged in the real universe, completely out of their reach.

  CHAPTER

  115

  TASIA TAMBLYN

  After all their years fighting in the Elemental War and now flying for Kett Shipping, she and Robb worked together like a perfectly tuned machine. After letting Declan’s Glory peel off for the terrarium dome, Tasia plunged toward the central Fireheart complex, following one of many distress calls.

  In the nebula battlefield, sparkling starbursts marked the detonations of fleeing ships, flashes of laser cannons and jazers wiping out robot attackers, even sun bombs that scooped divots out of the encroaching shadow clouds.

  “Remind me again why we came here?” Robb asked.

  “Rlinda had to make a delivery,” Tasia said.

  She managed to dock the Curiosity at the admin hub amid robot ships, sun-bomb explosions, and blasts from CDF battleships. She and Robb picked up Fireheart stragglers, including Shareen Fitzkellum, Howard Rohandas, Station Chief Alu, and the last dozen or so Roamers who needed an evacuation ship.

  Alu scrambled aboard. “Thank you, thank you all! Now let’s get out of here. Keep us safe!”

  “That’s a tall order,” said Tasia, “but we’ll do our best.”

  “We sounded the evacuation,” Alu gasped as he scrambled aboard, “but the shadow clouds came so fast. They’re after us for revenge.”

  Shareen continued to explain, “We went into the void with a strike force and hit the shadows where they were most vulnerable, hammered them with sun bombs. We destroyed a lot of hex cylinders.”

  “Just enough to piss them off?” said Tasia.

  Howard looked sheepish. “I can’t dispute that.”

  Lost and aimless, the Solar Navy warliners were being decimated. Tasia saw four Ildiran ships fall as black robots tore them apart. Many didn’t even bother to fight back.

  “The Ildirans are just reeling,” Robb said. “What’s wrong with them?”

  General Keah was not ready to give up, though. Her CDF ships kept blasting away as if they didn’t realize, or didn’t care, how badly they were outgunned.

  The Curiosity shuddered as energy bursts erupted around them. Robb and Tasia worked together smoothly, without talking. They reacted in perfect synchronous moves, dodging an oncoming, out-of-control robot ship that opened fire with great verve but minimal accuracy.

  Tasia activated the comm. “Rlinda, are you there? Are you safe?” She felt an empty sadness when Declan’s Glory didn’t respond. Finally, more than a minute later, the big woman said, “Define safe.”

  A nearby explosion knocked out half of their shields. The Curiosity spun out of control. The passengers shouted in panic, and Howard and Shareen tumbled together across the deck. Because Robb and Tasia were strapped in, they managed to stabilize the ship.

  Robb said, “I think it’s time to go.”

  As the ship soared out of the nebula on a trajectory away from the two shadow clouds, Howard and Shareen picked themselves up from the deck and came to the piloting compartment. Several of the Curiosity’s control panels had gone dark, and a shower of sparks flew up from another, but Tasia nonchalantly bypassed the circuits, then shut down extraneous components. Robb kept flying.

  With a gasp, Shareen pointed out the front windowport. “Look at the first shadow cloud!”

  One of the black masses clenched and convulsed, as if recoiling. Diving in from the outside fringe of the nebula, an unexpected swarm of flying nodules arrowed straight toward the nearest shadow cloud, like birds of prey.

  “It’s bloaters,” Tasia shouted. “They’re bloaters!” She remembered seeing the cluster at the Iswander extraction field, but these bloaters had transformed, come alive—and they sent out ripples like gravitational waves that stirred the Fireheart gases. The invisible force was directed toward the amoeba-like shadow cloud, crushing the darkness like a fist.

  “Looks like we’re not the only ones fighting,” Robb said.

  The black swirling cloud collapsed, falling inward. As the cloud crumpled under its own mass, the flying bloaters followed it in, vanishing into the last remnants of darkness, like moths to a flame.

  “Hang on!” Tasia said.

  One gigantic shadow cloud still remained.

  So far the Curiosity’s engines hadn’t been damaged, and she wrung out every last bit of acceleration, dodging as the bright nebula tore itself apart around them.

  CHAPTER

  116

  CELLI

  The crack widened in the glass of the terrarium dome overhead, splitting sideways and forking into several branches. The brittle snapping sound was even louder than the rumble of shock waves from nearby explosions.

  Outside, a panoply of flashes marked the ongoing space battle, but Celli could focus only on the groaning trees. She could feel it in her muscles and bones, dreading the imminent disaster when the dome failed.

  Rlinda Kett was bursting with urgency. “We all have to get out of here. Now, dammit!”

  With growing wonder, Celli embraced the warm, pulsing glow of the wental water. “No, you have to go.”

  Solimar folded his hands over hers on the wental container and looked up at the trader woman, hopeful now. “Believe me, Rlinda—this is why you came here. You’ve done your part. Now, run to your ship. Celli and I can’t do what we need to do with you still here.”

  With a groan of frustration, Rlinda looked up at the lengthening cracks in the dome overhead; then she turned and ran.

  Now that she no longer needed to worry about the other woman, Celli felt her heart swell with elation, as well as terror … but she had lived with terror for a long time. Now the wental water gave the two of them an opportunity to save these trees, to save themselves … and to change forever.

  Taking the wental cylinder, they knelt before the pair of suffering trees. Once the terrarium dome shattered, the trees would be killed, but now the wentals gave them another option.

  “We will be magnificent,” Solimar said.

  Celli was breathing hard with wonder. “We’ll soar through the universe. It will be perfect.”

  The metamorphosis would destroy the greenhouse, but it would allow the transformed trees to fly free. There was a finality to their symbiosis with the trees. Celli and Solimar would never be able to touch each other again, to make love, to sit side by side with skin touching skin as they looked out at the swirling nebula.

  But they would be more … so much more.

  Above, the crystalline ceiling split with a much longer fissure, enough that a scream of escaping air whistled through the gap. It was going to fail within seconds.

  Celli
poured the wental water around the base of the two worldtrees. The elemental liquid seeped into the soil and into the roots, swelling into the trunk like lightning. She and Solimar kissed, ignoring the escaping air as the dome crack split farther. A great wind roared through the greenhouse.

  They touched one last time, let their fingertips linger, and then they turned back, each facing the enormous bole of a worldtree. Inviting and welcoming, the gold-barked trunk split open, forming an opening for them to enter.

  Escaping air rushed and swirled inside the terrarium. Mulch and debris from the crop fields swept up in small whirlwinds to vanish through the fissures in the dome.

  Celli climbed inside the waiting tree, which was like a perfect cocoon. As she backed in, she took one last look at Solimar, who had also found his home inside the heartwood. Her eyes met his—and then the tree gap sealed shut again, its pristine wood folding over her.

  She could feel the fibers lacing around her like a mesh that became part of her green skin, then dipped into her muscle tissue, her nervous system, her bloodstream. The wentals reproduced and flooded through the water inside the trees, pulled up through capillary action to energize the heartwood.

  Celli felt her vision diminishing, but also expanding. As a green priest, she had been able to peer through the verdani mind, but now she became part of it in a more intimate way.

  She had always been a slip of a girl, wiry and athletic, able to treedance across the fronds. She had leaped into the air, and strong Solimar was always there to catch her without any effort at all. He would swing her up, throw her to another branch, and she would swing around and bound back to him.

  Now she felt enormous and powerful. She had many arms, countless branches and fronds—a hybrid worldtree form that encompassed not just her small figure, but also the giant tree. Her new body still ached, having been bent over for too long, nearly broken. Now, though, she was free.

  Finally, as she and Solimar both transformed into verdani treeships, Celli knew it was time. She was wental and she was verdani … and she was also still very human. The surge of strength came with a rush of joy, and she straightened her long-stunted body, stretched her magnificent tree form so that she stood upright at last.