Starhammer

by Christopher Rowley

  A sound behind him heralded the coming of his assistant. "We take delivery of the hovercraft in five hours, Ulip. Everything will be ready within an hour or so after that."

  "Good, Nike. We will want to move quickly, the laowon are restless. Two military shuttles have landed in the last hour. I can feel their unease. Something has slipped badly. The Imperiom shakes."

  —|—

  A dwarf star gave off a dim red glow on the main screen. "Where are we now?" Jon Iehard said.

  "A hiding place," Eblis Bey replied. "This dwarf isn't on anybody's charts. It's about eight light-years to the next system. Nobody's made it out here yet. We left one of the Orn's spaceboats here, because we knew the Churchill wouldn't have any left."

  Even as he spoke, the radar screen showed a small trace; the boat computer had recorded the arrival of the Churchill and was on its way to intercept.

  "How far have we come?"

  "Nocanicus is about twenty-five light-years back of us. We've the big jumps yet to make."

  Owlcurl Dahn put her head in the door. "Come on, Iehard, we've been drawn for torsion magneto inspection. There's a lot to be done."

  The huge battleship stretched silent and eerie around them as they rode the lateral elevator line. Most of the side sections were empty—rows of dormitories, storerooms, endless dark corridors.

  "I wonder what they planned to do with all this?" Jon said.

  "They intended to send colonizing parties out in their ships. That's why they built on the same sort of scale as the old NAFAL liners."

  Eventually they were deposited in one of the ring conduits that surrounded the torsion magneto cables. They began to move along the cables, their lights seeking breaks or cracks caused by the strain of that wild escape from almost inside the atomic blast of the Orn, with only the gravitomagnetic fields protecting the ship from severe damage.

  It was hot work in the narrow cable conduits. There were miles of connections to check. And there was just enough room for two humans to stand up in, in long stretches.

  At every kilometer was a major junction box to be checked, each set directly facing a radial elevator shaft that connected to the central section. The box plate was held by a countersunk starbolt. Jon used a star wrench to remove the bolts. Owlcurl Dahn examined the interiors for damage.

  As they worked they talked about Ornholme in the distant Asdali system and about the ancient debt to Elchis.

  "Nine hundred years, Mr. Iehard! Not all the Orners today remember the importance of the Elchites to our ancestors. That is why some of the crew seem so unwilling. They do not realize that without the Elchites our forebears would have been taken by the Superior Buro. And this ship and their heroic efforts to preserve it would have been lost, and the laowon would have the Baada drives. Which they have never discovered on their own."

  Jon snorted. "Laowon science is static. Their empire is a corrupt monster teetering on disintegration. Only the constant draining of human science has kept them moving forward these thousand years."

  "Exactly, Mr. Iehard. Which is another reason why our mission is so vital."

  "But do you know what exactly it is that we search for?"

  "Mr. Iehard, I may not tell you about that. Only the Bey can tell you. Nobody else in the crew knows the secret, not even the young Elchites."

  He shrugged. Such secrecy was understandable in light of the effectiveness of the Superior Buro.

  "Another point. I think I need to know who are Elchites and who not. The young ones are fiery fellows, aren't they?"

  "Incendiary, Mr. Iehard. And Finn M'Nee will surely bear malice toward you. I have found him most difficult to work with."

  "Why is that do you think?"

  "The Elchites hate women—M'Nee and Chacks are lovers. They are mostly samesexers. Their cult is antifemale."

  "The Bey?"

  "No!" She laughed. "Not Eblis Bey, but he is special, and from Earth. Can you imagine, he comes from the homeworld. Even on Ornholme we think of Earth as far, far away. Which is true—it is seventy light-years from the Asdali system to Sol. But now that seems almost neighborly! We are making jumps of that distance itself!"

  "Are the Elchites of Earth different then from the rest of the creed?"

  "If the Bey is a true example then it must be so. He certainly has an appetite for women. Since he's been aboard I believe he's been to bed with all three females in the crew—myself, Dahlia Bergen, and Rewa Kolod."

  Jon laughed, the sound ringing inside the conduits.

  They worked on, eventually reaching the conduits that ran through the south pole of the ship. Occasionally lamps shone down the long shafts above their heads to form pools of light on the junction boxes.

  Another box, this time in darkness, another plate, another countersunk starbolt. They were nearly three quarters of the way around. Dahn kept her lights trained on the bolt while Jon braced himself to get good leverage. The muscles in his chest groaned in complaint. This one was stiff.

  He shifted position, got a good grip, strained.

  Then he caught a fleeting image, a ghostly shriek of hatred from somewhere above him and a torsion wrench spinning in darkness.

  Jon cannoned into Owlcurl Dahn. They sprawled and with a terrific whunk a heavy wrench bounced on the steel junction box and shot into the wall with enormous force.

  The reverberations echoed in the narrow conduit.

  Jon let out a bitter curse.

  Owlcurl Dahn was pale. "That could have killed you! That was criminally careless."

  "No, Owlcurl, not careless at all."

  —|—

  Admiral Booeej was a pale shade of puce as he listened to the young Morgooze of Blue Seygfan.

  "For such incompetence I personally shall tear apart your sex organs with the electrified tongs. Your expiation will be accompanied by that of your senior officers, family, and relatives."

  "Lord, I was given an impossible task."

  "Impossible! You shall have the hot coals, the frozen skewers, your children will be mutilitated before your eyes..."

  From his hospital bed the Morgooze continued to rage. Booeej swallowed heavily, tried to compose his thoughts to acceptance of fate. It was hard, damnably hard.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  When the ship had been completely checked and a number of small repairs made, they gathered in the cavernous refectory for a final meeting before the last jump.

  The Elchites studiously ignored Jon, but he was sure from the rage on the psi plane that they were the ones that had tried to kill him.

  At Jon's request Dahn had said nothing about the incident, but Jon was aware that he would have to be especially careful from then on. They had meant to kill. If they tried again he would have to strike back.

  Eblis Bey stood. "My friends, saviors, acolytes, we have come to the last, most momentous part of our journey. And soon you will learn just where it is we have been heading all this time." Groans were heard from some of the Orners.

  "When we get to the new system we will disembark and the Churchill will be put out on a long solar orbit to keep it hidden. We shall not need it again unless we are successful with our main mission."

  "Then I take it, Bey, that you at least know where we are going." Hawkstone sounded bitter.

  "Captain, we all regret the loss of the Orn. But I urge you, think instead of the future in Asdali system, building ships with Baada drives."

  This drove Hawkstone to snort angrily. "We have one more jump to make, a long one. Who knows anything about these drives? We may just as easily become merged with the subuniversal flux. Once more, we have to risk our lives for this crazed scheme of yours."

  "I'm sorry you feel that way, Captain. But we have no choice. And my scheme, crazed or not, was approved by the highest councils of Elchis."

  "Of course we have a choice," Hawkstone blustered. "We could take the lifeboat and strike out for the nearest civilized system."

  "That's eight light-years away, Captain. The trip would
take many years."

  "We would live."

  "Just possibly your chances would be higher than ours, but who here would really like to spend twenty years in the spaceboat?"

  No hands rose. Hawkstone lapsed into sullen silence.

  "We are settled then. We will jump and then land together. Then we will part at last and only volunteers will go on, with me, to the end."

  "If I were asked," Bergen muttered, "which I am not, you understand, but if I were, I would say forget this nonsense of the Elchites and take this ship home to Ornholme as soon as possible. I would never venture away again."

  Dahn let a momentary flicker of annoyance cross her features. "We had to come to pay off the debt. It was just your misfortune to be on crew schedule when the time came. Ornholme has lived with knowledge of the debt for nine hundred years. When the call came we had to respond. I have found this project an exceptionally difficult and dangerous one, but we are acting for the good of all Ornholme."

  Officer Bergen made no further comment.

  The meeting broke up. Jon headed to the galley counter. The food preparation systems had survived the long hiatus, as had the freeze-dried rations of fried bananas, eggpowder scramble, and mashed-potato slurry. It was awful, but it was food. Owlcurl Dahn joined him.

  "What will you do when we reach planetside, Jon?"

  "I'm not quite sure what I'll do. I must find some medical assistance for Meg. She will need a long rest wherever we go. As for myself, I will go with Bey if I can."

  "Then we will travel on together. I am pledged to go all the way too."

  He had almost finished the mess on his plate when Eblis Bey appeared and sat down with them. The mote floated down to rest on the table between them. Its brilliant eyes dimmed then seemed to go out.

  Eblis Bey noticed Jon's wondering gaze. "Yes, it's resting, conserving energy. You are curious about my little friend here."

  "Indeed I am. How many have ever seen one of the great motes? It is a remarkable creature. Already it has provided me with a service by describing my silvery cube from Fara's template."

  "If it is a creature. It maintains that it is not, but it cannot explain its own processes very well. In truth, we hardly understand anything about the things."

  The Bey produced his flask and poured Jon a sip of a fiery terrestrial distillate called Cobra.

  "Tell me about Earth," Jon said.

  Eblis Bey paused a moment, gathered himself. "You have to understand that Earth can live again. We will bring the planet back to life, you see. That is our ultimate goal."

  "I don't understand. Earth is dead?"

  "Largely, as a consequence of the greenhouse effect. The biosphere has been degraded to the point of collapse." His voice hardened. "But we shall bring her back. Earth will be green and lovely once again. We can save her with mass migration and enforcement of the sterility code."

  And Jon saw the Elchite fires burning in the man's eyes.

  An idea occurred to him. "Where were you born?"

  Eblis Bey blinked. "Born? Why do you want to know?"

  "Put it down to professional curiosity. Military Intelligence wouldn't tell me much about you. Now's my chance to get some answers."

  Eblis Bey smiled slowly. "You were good, they say."

  "At tracking?"

  "And the rest."

  "They trained me until that kind of violence became second nature to me. I do not enjoy it."

  "Yes, of course. I understand." Eblis Bey nodded.

  "But you didn't tell me where you were born."

  "All right!" The Bey threw up his hands. "I shall satisfy your curiosity then. I was born in the city of Sector Three. It's on the continent of South America. But I spent most of my life in the So Cal Dome in North America. These are places that are hard to describe. Enormous beyond anything you can imagine—forty billion TV screens and the oceans are dead! The diet is poor except for the elite and the elite live in dread of the masses. The masses would happily devour the elite, because they blame them for what has happened to our world. That is Earth. It is not a pleasant place."

  "My ancestor Jenjamin Iehard, he was from a city called Airstrip Five. Do you know it?"

  "A South Pole colony, I believe, one of the older domes. No, I've never been to the polar continent. It was once completely covered in ice, did you know that? A beautiful shining sheet of ice without a single city! The littoral was home to a multitude of wild creatures, and in the surrounding oceans lived the whales, who foraged in the rich waters. But the whales were eaten by the barbaric Japanese long ago, and later all the other animals died out when the ice melted and the clouds filled the sky. It is the same as the other continents now, just wind, desert, and domes."

  "How would the Elchites renew the Earth then?"

  "First there would have to be mass emigration, which at the moment the laowon will not allow. Then we would turn to all the terrestrial species that have been exported to other systems. As the pollution rates were lowered terraforming bacteria could take a grip. We would cool the planet with solar deflectors and cause more of the water vapor to fall out as rain. In time, that would wash out the carbon dioxide again, and that would allow the planting of adapted trees and sea kelp to renew the ancient cycles."

  "But why won't the laowon allow emigration?"

  "Because a weak, decadent Earth suits them. A renewed Earth would only give humanity something to unite around and that would pose a problem."

  He saw Jon's eyebrows knit.

  "Yes, you are correct. It will take a long time, but we will do it. We are determined. Once we have shaken the laowon from our backs."

  Jon nodded vigorously. "I wanted to ask you about that. Where are the aliens that can help us?"

  Eblis Bey smiled. "You and your friend Meg made some astute deductions, young man—quite frightening really, considering how little evidence you had." He looked about Jon for a second as if afraid of eavesdroppers.

  In a hushed voice he said, "Did you know that there is an alien species that the laowon fear? Twice in the past thousand years they have been forced to burn entire worlds. They used nuclear weapons, until no life of any kind survived."

  "What is this? What are you talking about?"

  "On both occasions they burned small laowon colony populations. On the most recent occasion they burned a small human population as well, which is how we in the brotherhood came to hear of it."

  "But why?"

  The Bey seemed to calculate something in Jon's eyes. "Because apparently this is a more dangerous universe than human thinkers have allowed themselves to believe. The laowon are afraid of an alien lifeform that they refer to only as the 'advanced parasitic form.' On both occasions that they burned worlds they did so to exterminate this lifeform."

  Jon's brows furrowed. "Are we going to find this lifeform?"

  Eblis Bey gave a bitter laugh. "By the gods, no! Let us pray that we be spared that!" Jon saw that actual tears were running from the old man's eyes. He dabbed at them, unembarrassed.

  "I'm sorry." Jon felt awkward. Why did he weep so?

  Eblis Bey recovered himself. "No, we're not going to seek out that lifeform. And I hope that none of it will find us. But it is connected with our destination. You see, young Jon Iehard, you are correct to a degree. We are searching for something alien, something that will break us free of the laowon tyranny. We seek a remnant of an ancient world, a talisman of hope from so long ago that when it was built there was not so much as a clam on the Earth to feed on the algae."

  "When?"

  "A billion years ago, I mean. We were saved, before we were even born, by the heroism of an early race, a tragic race of high attainment."

  "Who were they?"

  "Sadly we cannot even pronounce their name in their own tongue. We can't speak much of it at all; we lack the rattle pods and throat drums that were so important to them. Their gift of vocalization was as much beyond ours as ours is beyond that of lower mammals. Their languages were like terrestria
l Chinese, dense in phonetic nuances.

  "They were batrachian, soft-skinned amphibians that evolved considerable intelligence. Theirs was a rich emotional and cultural life, built around the mating dances with songs of great length and metrical complexity. Yet there was also the inherent tragedy of their breeding rate. They were forced to devour their own young as a method of population control. They called themselves the Wisdom Wishing, and they were a gentle people. They fled from our universe long ago, their world shattered and dying. Before that, however, they had rendered a great service to the rest of our Galaxy."

  "Why, what did they do?"

  "They stopped the Vang."

  "The what?"

  "It is one of the very small number of words in the batrachians' languages that we can pronounce easily. To the best of my knowledge, it translates as 'omniparasitic vermin.' I think it was the same lifeform that has so frightened the laowon."

  "But if they stopped it—"

  "Oh, they did, they smashed the Vang power, but they could not completely annihilate all of it, or them. The Vang appears to be a complex species with many physical forms and aspects. It seems that small particles were somehow left and dispersed into the Galaxy like a bacterial infection. Twice now the laowon have encountered this infection. Both times they have responded by burning an entire world."

  "How horrible."

  "Yes, indeed, though it is interesting nonetheless to know that the laowon are not invulnerable."

  "And your ancient race, what happened to them?"

  "Ah, the poor batrachians—they were a slow, profound folk. Matured by aeons of slow evolution in the swamps and coastal littoral. Their sciences of biology and conservation were their highest, but when they had to, they developed tremendous technologies in mere decades and left ruins of such size and complexity that we still stand before them in awe and amazement.

  "What happened?" The Bey shrugged. "The details are few and far between but I have researched them diligently all my working life. Unfortunately the archeological records are scattered, and much of the best information is today in laowon hands. However, we do know that they were advanced in sciences like astronomy, but not in ballistics. Eventually, though, they sent out astronomical probes beyond their own solar system. It was then that they discovered vast fleets of colony ships heading toward their system. The ships were slow NAFAL so they had a century or more to prepare. The batrachians built enormous astronomical instruments utilizing the complete spectrum. The great telescope was apparently constructed in outer space and had a distance of many millions of kilometers between the giant lenses. With such instruments they observed that beyond the advancing fleet were worlds upon worlds inhabited by a single lifeform. In addition, colony fleets were crawling across space to many other systems surrounding the Vang homeworlds. They clearly faced a terrible peril."