The Orphaned Worlds_Book Two of Humanity's Fire

by Michael Cobley

  Cat could feel their presence at the edge of the forest, could almost sense the weight of their booted feet. In the few weeks since the murder of President Sundstrom, her mind and her reflexes had become more deeply intertwined with the psionic weave of the continental forest. There was a breath and a pulse to it, the wave of heat and light as dawn swept continuously around the moon, the tug and sweep of weather systems bringing wind and rain. Then there was the purpose of the Brolturans, their occupation of Darien and their grand invasions of Segrana, of which this would be the fifth. Were they still trying to test the defences, or were they engaged in a war of what they imagined was attrition? The latter might make sense, were it not for the huge technology gap – the Brolturans could have fielded land, sea and air attack vehicles or even sprayed the forest with defoliant, yet they had not.

  They want something, the temple-halls perhaps, or the ancient knowledge chambers, or Segrana herself, she thought. Or perhaps they’re unsure what’s hidden here and are making these probing attacks to see where we fight hardest.

  She shrugged her shoulders and shifted slightly in her leaf-padded recess. It was a cuplike cavity in the branching shoulder of one of Segrana’s colossal pillar trees. During her sleep, pale rootlets had sprouted from the wood to curl about her brow while other tendril tresses spilled down around her neck and shoulders. Slender vines entwined her limbs and fine opaque filaments spread across her bare hands and feet. The Listeners called these recesses Speaking Places and they were located near the forest floor. Cat’s was some twenty feet up and veiled by mossy creeper curtains, shrouded in humid gloom broken by the glows of tethered ineka beetles. Uvovo guarded her Speaking Place, above and below, and two Listener sisters watched over her.

  She was only peripherally aware of her immediate surroundings, while her conscious perceptions moved in many directions. Her mind felt faster, sharper and more versatile than it had for a long time, certainly since her teenage years when her Enhanced talents had been at their peak. But this interweaving, this melding with Segrana’s far-flung dominion was on an entirely different level. To be an Enhanced was to be in possession of an intellectual ferocity that dragged the focus inwards and that sometimes seemed on the verge of mania and cold, cruel thoughts. To be joined with Segrana was to see with myriad eyes, to hear with all manner of ears and membranes, to smell and to taste and feel multifariously …

  Herself curled up in the Speaking Place, lit by inekas – above, the Listener sisters huddle together, exchanging murmurs – beneath, four Uvovo spear-carriers crouch in the lower bushy shadows, alert to the approaches – high above, another half a dozen watch and listen …

  Theo standing at the midpoint of a rope-and-wood footbridge that curves between two huge hillside trees less than a mile away – she sees him from several viewpoints, forest creatures small and not so small, their images of him patchworking together into a shimmering composite, almost seen in the round – he leans on the bridge’s rope rail, fingers of both hands slowly shredding a sprig, leaf by leaf – he frowns, lined face dark with worry – Cat knows he is thinking about the defences he helped to prepare, the traps, the pits, the snares, the overhead drops – he is also frustrated at being kept away from the scene of the action, nearly two hundred miles away and still watched over by a Uvovo escort – fragments of leaf and twig fall from Theo’s fingers into the hazy depths as he sighs and shakes his head …

  Malachi the Tygran sits on a high woven platform not far from Theo’s location, overseen by a Listener and five armed Uvovo – Cat observes him through the eyes of an umisk perched overhead and two kizpi foraging in nearby masses of foliage – Malachi is clad in grubby work clothes scrounged from the refugee Human researchers, kept safe half a continent away – He sits with his back against the mossy trunk, legs folded under him as he stares at the insects dancing a shaft of sunlight slanting in through a break in the canopy – The bright column makes the moist air glow, warming the insects that bob and sweep – Malachi is so entranced that he scarcely moves – Cat knows from Theo’s reports that since the suicide device was removed weeks ago the Tygran commando has steadily become more forthcoming, gradually learning how to be more human – But Cat cannot bring herself to talk with him at any great length – The memories of dead Uvovo haunt her still …

  Listener Malir speaks to Listener Josu across more than a mile of Segrana’s forested hinterland – Each occupies a vudron, thoughts and words merging with Segrana’s great sweeping psionic weave, now heightened by Catriona’s talents – Each is attended by senior scholars while messengers constantly come and go, bringing scout reports, taking orders to other Listeners leading smaller teams of Uvovo – The two Uvovo Listeners are quite different in temperament, yet Theo taught them well – Lessons in mobility were soon tested against the Brolturans’ assaults – He has shown them how to build traps that are portable and easy to assemble, or at least easier – Pits are permanent defences and have been dug at points on those routes most accessible to a ground force moving inland from the south-west – But the interweaving branchways of the mid- and upper forest allow the Uvovo to be incomparably more mobile …

  … In the Speaking Place, Catriona stirred, opened her eyes to the silent, soft-lit gloom, the restless, glowing inekas, the haloed golden radiance of a lantern hanging from a leafy creeper curtain. The air was cold in her lungs and the odour of leaves and blooms felt reviving. She levered herself upright, rolled her head back, left to right, massaged the aches out of her shoulders and stretched her limbs before sitting back, closing her eyes and slipping back into the weave …

  The presence of Segrana speaks, saying – The Time Is Here, The Time Is Now, Unmaker Sends War …

  The Brolturans move into the forest, squad after squad of tall, camo-armoured forms hurrying from daylight into shadow – Cat can feel the impact of their boots and track their progress along a shallow valley running westward – Ahead of them, pathfinders try to probe the ground through tangled undergrowth, flagging the location of pitfalls exposed during previous forays – Cat estimates their numbers at roughly 400 while Malir and Josu can command little more than half as many – This is by far the largest force to be pitted against Segrana …

  Theo’s words from a recent discussion come back to her – ‘This Brolturan commander, he has been cunning. So far he has only sent in small detachments to get a feel for the land and to gauge the Uvovo strengths and weaknesses. When he commits a larger formation he will have made up his mind and … it could get bloody.’ He had then gone on to tell her that they almost certainly would have some kind of map derived from orbital scans, which would reveal features of the terrain but not the ground or cover condition.

  The invaders continue their advance – Squads move up, cutting aside dense weaves of foliage with power blades while other units provide overwatch, ready to unleash suppressing fire and cross-fire …

  Listener Malir sees through Segrana’s stream of awareness – He shares thoughts and observations with Listener Josu and Catriona – Malir’s hundred or more Uvovo are divided between the teams on the high branchways, carrying ambush materials, and the lesser ground force whose job is to kill or capture stragglers – Listener Josu’s four score are armed with spears, slings and darts and traverse the midlevel branches, stealthily following in the Brolturans’ wake, waiting for the order to pounce on the rear units – Surprise is the essence of Uvovo fighting tactics, Theo had told them, endlessly drilling them in the need for speedy hit-andrun attacks – But then …

  Catriona feels a startled anxiety reverberate across Segrana’s awareness before the news reaches her – The Brolturans have veered north, up a gully and heading for a rocky, hilly ridge where the undergrowth is sparser and pit traps could not be dug – Catriona divides her attention between glimpses of the intruders, seen by passing forest creatures, and the dialogue between Malir and Josu while messengers race across the branchway …

  Listener Malir orders his ambush teams to shift north and pr
epare to attack the offworlders on their new course – His ground forces are told to fall back parallel with the invaders – Catriona approves this adaptation yet Josu disagrees – She emphasises her support for these tactics, then Malir advises Josu to have his force shadow the Brolturan rearguard but to stay their hand for now – But instead …

  Listener Josu sends his fastest branch-runners with orders to attack, then emerges from his vudron and with his personal escort races after them – Josu’s thoughts become tenuous away from the forest’s psionic aura and his justifications seem to drift in his wake – Listener Malir is aghast and begs him to reconsider but Catriona senses something else in Josu’s excuses, a haughty arrogance, a hate of the Brolturans, certainly, but also a contempt for Humans, specifically Catriona and Theo, for their interfering ways …

  Catriona fears the worst – Her perceptions fly on through the forest – Her pleas to Josu go unheeded – As the details from that part of the forest gather, the branch-runners arrive and deliver Josu’s commands – Exultant, the Uvovo ready their darts and spears and dive down through the greenery, leaping and swooping towards the enemy – Below, the Brolturan rearguard creeps along, the last to climb onto the rocky ridge – Catriona’s mind processes visual information from several sources and she sees them, tall Sendrukans every one, clad in camouflage battledress with odd baggy folds of material covering their backs – She sees Josu’s Uvovo swarming down branches, down trunks, needle-tipped darts finger-gripped, spears held lightly, stone-loaded slings spinning, making a quiet, ominous whir …

  The order is given and missiles rain down – A few dart throwers get their rounds off first and those initial impacts warn the Brolturans – A command is bellowed and less than a second later every camouflaged back is protected by a curved armoured shell – A few stones and darts find targets, even a spear or two, but the rest rebound and ricochet away …

  Catriona watches, her dread becoming the anticipation of inevitable calamity – She can feel the exhilaration of the Uvovo as they swing and clamber downwards for a second wave of attacks at closer range – But amid the straggle undergrowth and sparse bushes, the Brolturans turn about in unison, raising weapons – Different groups aim at different sectors of the canopy above, a practised manoeuvre – Cat lets her fear pour out as a warning, a fearful shout ringing across Segrana’s weave which focuses it but it is too late …

  They open fire, and streams of needle and flechette scythe up through the greenery, along with pulsed energy beams – Clouds of splinters explode from trunks and limbs, leaves, vines and blooms are shredded – Animals shriek in terror – Some evade the continuous salvoes, some are caught and bloodily burst apart, carcasses falling with the cascades of leaf and wood fragments – The salvoes continue and Uvovo bodies tumble out of the trees – Catriona can feel the wounds and the maiming, the torment and ghastly iciness of mortal wounds, the sudden severing of life – She wants to shut it off, shut it out, but Segrana’s unflinching, enduring resolve maintains the flow of pain, resolve and a vast, slow anger …

  For Catriona, the events of the next few hours merge into a fragmentary blur – After the slaughter of Josu’s Uvovo, the Brolturan force splits in two – Malir orders some of his ambushers to offload their burdens on the northernmost group of invaders – Bulging sacks are slashed open in unison and sheets of water pour down, some carrying a plethora of tiny creatures and parasites, other laced with toxins intended to sting the eyes and irritate the skin, while a few drench those below in a dreadful stench – Other sacks contains rotting forest floor mulch infested with all kinds of insects, burrowing klavigs, hiver mirsyls, predator igiths or wriggling, snakelike pokars, all of whom nip or bite, some poisonously – This is enough to panic some of the Brolturans while a contingent of Malir’s ground scouts dash in for a swift hit-and-run that draws several north into a pit-riddled gully …

  While Listener Malir strives to harry the Brolturans and contain them, Catriona tries to work with some of the Listeners in towns further afield who want to send healers and supplies – At some point she learns that Theo has left his high branch sanctuary, refused his escorts’ advice and climbed down a step-rope to the forest floor – Later, she hears that the reserve force, which was Theo’s idea, is moving to intercept the southern Brolturan force which is heading straight for Cascadeshade, a water-carrier hamlet located by a river bank – Looking through the many senses of Segrana, Catriona sees the Uvovo reserve, sees the huge mass of creatures they are herding, sees Theo working with the herders, and understands – These are baro, the northern variety, which are larger, heavier, less docile and armed with horns and tusks …

  The stampeding baro crash into the Brolturans, who are moving in a loose, spread-out formation – At the same time, rocks, spears, slingshot and lumps of baro droppings begin to rain down – There is sporadic flechette fire and some of the baro die in a screeching welter of gore only to be swiftly replaced by others maddened by the rush, the noise and the stink of blood – After several minutes of this some of the invaders break ranks and flee east and south while the rest struggle to hold their positions – Then branches, severed a foot or two from the main trunk, start to fall out of the canopy and keep falling, along with broken-off vines and thorny creeper – Half-buried by foliage and gored by berserk forest baro, the Brolturans fall back towards the rocky ridge with haste –

  There is pain, the agony of wounded and dying on both sides – As the Brolturan retreat turns into a rout, healers and apothecaries converge from the townships close by – Later, in the weary hours of the aftermath, it is the memory of all that pain that lingers in Catriona’s thoughts, haunted also by a few terrible images – One is the sight of a badly wounded Brolturan soldier carrying another over his shoulder, running along a trail leading back to the coast, when the ground gives way and he plunges into one of the pit traps – A scrawny Uvovo armed with a cudgel and a cluster of short spears emerges from the dense undergrowth, face expressionless for a moment, then takes out one spear, aims it and throws, then disappears back into the forest – Another image is that of Listener Josu staring in horror at the bloody remains of his Uvovo high in the trees, bodies torn and lacerated and attracting the attention of insects, some draped over branches, some still holding fast with a death grip to shattered stumps weeping sap …

  Segrana whispers, Rest, Catriona, Rest, Renew Yourself. The Listeners And The Healers Know Their Work.

  The weariness lies heavy on her limbs, and slows her thoughts, but there is so much to do, too much to do …

  Rest, Segrana insists, Rest, Regain, Renew.

  So Catriona concedes, surrenders to the weight of her exhaustion, and the song of Segrana fades …

  … And when she opened her eyes, it was to the sight of Theo Karlsson glancing over from where he was perched on a knot jutting from the prodigious tree limb.

  ‘How long have you been sitting there?’ she muttered, bringing up a hand to massage the tension in her neck.

  Theo shrugged. ‘Perhaps half an hour, perhaps less. Did you know that you grind your teeth while you sleep?’

  From where she lay in the leafy Speaking Place, Cat gave him a look that was half bemusement, half irritation. Then she sat up and groaned at the ache that surged in her temples.

  ‘Ah, that’ll be the dehydration,’ Theo said. ‘And this could be your medication.’

  One of the Listener sisters, a hooded Uvovo female whose fur was speckled with silver strands, climbed up next to the cavity and handed her a beaker of emel juice. It was cool and unbelievably delicious. She finished it off, then a second, after which the smiling Uvovo ducked out of sight.

  ‘So how did we do?’ said Theo.

  ‘I was about tae ask you the same,’ Cat said. When Theo stayed silent, she sighed. ‘Malir’s last reckoning was fifty-two dead, sixty-eight wounded.’

  Theo gave a grim nod. ‘They are all brave, good fighters. Could have been a lot worse. And the Brolturans?’

  ‘More w
ounded than us, eighty or more, but less than half our number of dead.’

  ‘Better armour.’

  ‘And what about they flechette guns?’ Cat said. ‘They were new.’

  ‘Yes, devastating against clear targets up to medium range,’ he said. ‘But in close combat in heavy undergrowth? Chance of friendly fire is greater. We were still lucky, however.’

  ‘Aye, I expect so.’

  He gave her a considering look. ‘I know that you’ve told me a little about this linkage you have with the forest sentience … But what was it like with a battle going on?’

  Suddenly wishing for a third beaker of juice, Cat gave a wan smile. ‘Honestly, Theo, yer talking to someone with a mind that feels like a soggy sponge. I really don’t know if I’m capable of describing it right now.’

  ‘Ja, I’m sorry, I was just curious about how Segrana would react to the fighting and killing, if she does …’

  ‘Oh, she does!’ She ground her teeth as the memory came back. ‘She feels the pain and so do I, and she feels anger, immense, looming anger …’ Then she remembered something else, something from those moments when her perceptions were at their greatest stretch. It was the impression of great, latent reserves of power, vast and bound up with the foundations of the forest and the land and the sea, ancient and waiting …

  ‘My questions can wait,’ Theo said. ‘For now, I go to see Malachi and tell him how well my baro reserve fought! Why not come along?’

  Cat shook her head. ‘Not yet, Theo. I know you’ve told me how well he’s doing, but … after today, I just cannot face him. D’ye understand?’

  Theo nodded. ‘Give it time. He’s a good lad, you’ll see.’ Then he gripped the bark, turned and slid off to land on walkway planks jutting from the huge branch.

  ‘Careful,’ she murmured.

  ‘Catlike reflexes,’ he said, grinning. ‘Well, an old cat with grey fur and a chewed ear, eh? Anyway, my Uvovo bodyguards Mlor and Etril will watch over me. So, till later.’