Orion Shall Rise

by Poul Anderson

  Jovain raised a hand, palm toward them. ‘You know this, brave friends. I spoke to remind myself as much as to remind you. Now let us go forward to victory!’

  A muffled cheer lifted. Teeth, eyeballs, and drawn steel gleamed. He sat down and secured his safety harness. The dirigible had begun to pitch and yaw a little in the currents around the great globe. It moved carefully in toward the dock.

  Contact shivered through its mass. Grapnels went out to engage mooring rings. Engines whirred to silence. Men in altitude suits, breathing from tanks on their backs, moved across the flange to secure the vessel properly, with spring cables. Thereafter they unfolded the entry tube, as they dragged it from its bay to the gondola door it was to osculate. When the seal was firm, pumps brought air pressure within the tube to sea-level value. Their noise died away. The chief of the docking crew examined a gauge, closed a valve, and signaled that doors might be opened.

  Ashcroft Lorens Mayn took the lead. Jovain had wanted to, but his chief associates persuaded him that would be lunacy. The whole undertaking turned on him, when no other Talence whatsoever had joined it. Amply bad was having him participate in the assault at all; but that concession must needs be made to archaic emotions. Faylis’ handsome blond brother, recruited by her, had the presence, prestige, and military experience to be the spearhead.

  A dozen picked men filed after him. They bore no guns on their shoulders, and would not take out their pistols and knives until they had deployed in the reception room and reached every egress. Surprise was essential to the capture of that bridgehead.

  Sudden shouts and clattering footballs told how swiftly they worked. In a minute or two, the whistle shrilled that hung from Lorens’ neck: Success – thus far!

  Jovain heard a yell burst from his own throat. He could enter his kingdom. He sprang forward and sped through the tube. Its colorless lining, lit from the doorways at either side, enclosed him in white dusk and seemed to stretch on and on forever. Boots thudded and breath sounded rough at his back, but he scarcely heard amidst his heart-beat. Sweat prickled across his skin, twice chill against the fire beneath.

  He reached the chamber beyond, ran on to its center where Lorens stood, and stopped to stare around. Excitement sank to an inner thrumming. Never had his mind and senses been more keen.

  The space was large and echoful in the light of fluorescent tubes. Ancient heroes looked out of time-faded murals, down upon benches, counters, baggage-inspection area, and people. More than the usual functionaries stood aghast, in huddled little groups, around the floor, under the gaze of armed and uniformed men who sealed off the corridors radiating hence. Fifty or sixty others had noticed the airship arriving and come to see what it brought. Jovain recognized a couple of gray heads, Seniors.

  ‘Reassure them, Colonel,’ he directed. The rest of his troop were debarking, on the double and a bayoneted rifle in the grasp of every fourth man. As many among them bore cocked crossbows, the rest long knives, and at each belt hung a truncheon.

  ‘Aye, sir. The megaphone, Sergeant.’ Lorens took the instrument, put it to his lips, and boomed: ‘Attention, attention! Please be calm, sirs and ladies. You have nothing to fear. We are not pirates, nor are we foreigners; we are of the Domain just like you. We have come in response to an emergency, for the protection of Skyholm and of all persons within. Stay calm, do not interfere with us as we carry out our essential tasks, and all will be well, everybody will be safe.’

  A gaudily clad young man stepped from a knot of bystanders. They had screened him from view, for although muscular, he was shorter than many males of the Aerogens. Pysan blood showed, too, in broad countenance and tousled brown hair. ‘Lorens!’ he cried. ‘I couldn’t understand – Have you brought that snake Jovain here?’

  Faylis’ brother let the megaphone sink. Dismay blurred the resolution on his own features. ‘Iern, be careful,’ he called back.

  Fear and triumph flared together in Jovain. He had not expected to meet his enemy this fast. Nor this publicly. The potential for riot, for resistance blazing up everywhere in the labyrinth that was the aerostat – He turned to the officer on his left and pointed. ‘Lieutenant, take your squad and arrest that man,’ he rapped.

  ‘Sir!’ The group trotted across the room.

  ‘Is that wise, sir?’ Lorens asked unevenly.

  ‘It is my command,’ Jovain answered.

  ‘Yes, sir. But he’s impulsive. Allow me.’ Lorens raised the megaphone anew. ‘Iern, don’t make trouble. Go along quietly. You’ll be all right, I promise. I’ll explain this business as soon as I possibly can.’

  Iern had been sidling back from the men who advanced upon him. ‘Jovain’s business?’ he howled.

  In a blur of motion, he spun about and bounded toward the nearest exit. ‘Stop him!’ Jovain screamed and himself dashed in pursuit. The guards in the doorway tightened their line, pistoleer between two Eskual steel-wielders. Shrieks resounded through the chamber, folk scrambled to get clear, some flung themselves prone.

  Full tilt, Iern left the deck and soared. A foot scythed before him, into the pistoleer’s belly right under the breastbone. That soldier went down like a sack of meal. His mates sought to close in. Iern swept the blade of a hand at one, against the throat. The knifeman lurched back, fell, and lay choking and writhing. Iern dodged the third and pelted on through the corridor.

  ‘After him!’ Jovain drew his sidearm. ‘Shoot him!’ He fired. The crack was astoundingly loud. The bullet whistled through emptiness and clanged off a corner which Iern had just rounded.

  Lorens overtook his chieftain and grappled. ‘Sir, sir,’ he pleaded, ‘this isn’t doctrine, it could wreck our whole operation, let him go, he can’t escape, we’ll get him later –’

  Jovain yielded. For a moment he shuddered, breathed deep, fought back a dizziness that had taken hold of him. ‘You’re right,’ he said. His voice came hoarse out of a tightened gullet. ‘Carry on.’

  By evening, Skyholm was his.

  Occupation of its heart and its nerve centers had taken scarcely more than an hour, with nothing except minor scuffles before unarmed crewfolk gave up. A pilot tried to flee in a small jet, but heeded a warning that the warcraft would shoot him down if he did not return. No flyer ventured upward from the ground, and presently the fighter stood parked on a dock, ready for instant battle but probably not to be needed.

  Afterward, though, time stumbled very slowly along. Jovain’s men must organize, set watches, come to agreements with those technicians who were indispensable, arrange quarters and mess. Patrols must make certain that order prevailed. Spokesmen must reassure whomever they could that nobody was in peril of life or property, that a full and satisfactory explanation of events would be forthcoming, that meanwhile everyone should cooperate. It took long before the Seniors were assembled where Jovain could address them, fend off a gale of questions and protests, promise them that their conclave would take place tomorrow as planned and that he would open it with revelations that ought to prove the tightness of his actions. Before and after that meeting, he was closeted not only with his officers but with those of Skyholm – including a number of the Seniors – who had known he was coming and had done what they were able to prepare the way for him.…

  Vaguely aware that he was ravenous, he swallowed a sandwich and coffee that an orderly fetched and went back to studying the information that his investigators brought, to arguing, persuading, threatening, issuing directives, deciding, deciding, deciding.…

  The sun sank, the moon rose, a measure of calm seeped in from the night. Lights began to go out, men and women to sleep, however uneasily. Jovain shoved his work aside, told the sentries where he would be should a crisis arise, and left the office he had appropriated. At last he could seek his love.

  The corridors were dim. They resounded hollowly to his footsteps. A few times he encountered a man of his, who saluted but did not speak – a feeling more lonely than he had expected. After a while this tenanted section came to an e
nd. Passageways to the next were simple catwalks among tensegrity members, whose spiderwebs lost themselves in distance and dimness. The outer skin glimmered milky with moonlight, the inner was full of murk; Jovain walked as if between a blank sky and a barren earth. The aerostat was keeping station against a strong night wind, and the sound of the jets surrounded him here, low but like the noise of a waterfall pouring into an abyss without bottom.

  Somewhere skulked Iern. Over and over, Jovain’s hand sought comfort from a knurled pistol grip. Two serious casualties in all; and he put both those men in sickbay. The one with the damaged larynx may not live. I didn’t know our Golden Boy was that savage. What shall we do when we’ve tracked him down?

  Jovain realized drearily that he had never quite faced this problem. He had thought in terms of an accomplished fact, against which his rival would be no more than a moth fluttering at a pane. If Iern bade fair to make a real nuisance of himself – why, then, detention for him as a threat to the commonweal, and afterward, presumably, release under surveillance. I don’t know if that will serve.

  His behaviour today Justifies arresting him, and the order is out. If he should happen to be killed, resisting arrest with the homicidal violence he has already demonstrated – it might forestall a good many difficulties. Or he could die later, in an attempt at escape.

  Jovain drew a quick breath. What am I thinking of? I am no murderer!

  That day in our sky wings – And Faylis need never know. I’m sure she would never inquire too closely.

  Stop that. Think about her. You are going to her. Jovain hastened his gait.

  The next filled section was residential: hers. Two years’ exile or no, the route to the Ferlay apartment was burned into him. He smote the door. It opened. She was there. A blue robe clung to her slenderness. He took a step forward. She nearly fell against his breast. They stood hugged together and kissing for minutes before they remembered to shut the door.

  ‘Oh, darling, darling,’ she gasped through tears, ‘I’ve been so afraid for you, alone hour after hour –’

  ‘I’d have been more afraid for you, if you hadn’t stayed in safety.’ He stroked her hair. How soft it was. Thank you for keeping that promise. Thank you for everything you’ve done.’

  ‘It was, was wretchedly little.’

  ‘No, it was much.’

  He wasn’t sure how truly he spoke. He had almost had to browbeat her into taking an active role. At first her letters (schoolgirl hand, convoluted phrases with bursts of passion) insisted that she need only leave Iern and he leave Irmali, and he had been tempted, but Ucheny Mattas brought him to acceptance of his destiny and he wrote sternly to her. Yet he had neither trusted her gifts for conspiracy nor wished her to attempt anything dangerous. Her part had been to supply information, mainly to sound out individuals she met and identify those to him whom she deemed were potential supporters of his cause. But that was important, he thought. There I was, isolated in the mountains … oh, yes, I had my agents, but who else could have done precisely what you did for us? And exceeding your instructions, you recruited your brother Lorens directly, as valuable a man as I have. Yes, you have earned well of the Life Force, beloved.

  ‘Hold me close again,’ she begged.

  He did, and inhaled the fragrance of her. ‘Poor dear,’ he murmured, ‘I can imagine the strain you’ve been under.’

  She gulped and nodded her head against his breast. ‘Not afraid, really, most of the time, but, but, oh, torn. I always had faith in you, never doubt I had faith in you, Jovain, but – poor Iern. He does have good intentions, mostly.’ She pulled free. The eyes that stared upward were white-rimmed. ‘How is he? Is he all right?’

  Jovain scowled. ‘I’m sorry to tell you he – well, he was reckless today, a madman. But he’s not been hurt. If he’ll come to his senses – You do know, don’t you, I wish him no ill, in spite of everything?’ I just wish him dead in some convenient fashion. Afterward I’d be glad to deliver a carefully phrased eulogy and sponsor a modest monument. He related briefly what had happened.

  She shuddered. ‘But then he’s hiding, by himself, I suppose, hungry, desperate. I never wanted that!’

  Jovain strengthened his embrace. ‘Nor I,’ he said, though if ever anybody deserved it, Talence Iern Ferlay does.‘Have no fears. He’ll surely do the intelligent thing and surrender tomorrow. I’ll do what I can to save him from the consequences of his folly. Now, though – Faylis, now is ours. After two years, ours.’

  He drew her to him. She was slow about growing lively and warm in his arms. Finally they sought the bed. He found he was too worn and worried for the achieving of her desire.

  4

  Iern rose and pressed for a time display. The data screen came aglow with numerals: 2051. ‘I’d better start off,’ he said.

  Vosmaer Tess Rayman, Senior in her Clan and colonel in the Weather Corps, gave him a troubled look from her chair. This early?’ she asked. The guards should be drowsy later on.’

  ‘Not if they’re well disciplined, madame, which they’ve certainly been acting like. And the longer a period of night I have ahead of me, the better my chances of making myself untrailable.’

  ‘I thought you might rest some more. You never did succeed in falling asleep.’

  Too high-keyed. It’d be strange if I weren’t.’

  ‘Your scheme is dicey at best, you know.’

  Iern shrugged. ‘What will happen if I stay aloft, playing mouse to Jovain’s cat? I reckoned they’d be too busy at first to search for me, and I could safely hole up with somebody I knew I could trust. But I’ll give you any odds you want, madame, tomorrow they’ll check every apartment, and ransack the rest of Skyholm meter by meter, nor stop till they have me.’ He grinned. ‘Or till they’re convinced I escaped. Let them wonder how.’

  The lean, white-haired woman did not share his eagerness. ‘I think they’ll guess right, but I hope they won’t be able to trace it back to Dany.’ That was her son, come along as her aide, whom she had summoned to her lodging after Iern appeared and had sent after the gear that Iern wanted.

  ‘I hardly think so, madame. Things were confused, while technical services must go on. Most of the interlopers seem to be groundlings, completely unacquainted with the rountines here. Who’d pay any special attention to a fellow that calmly opened a locker and walked off carrying an altitude suit? They’d take for granted he had a job to do outside.’

  ‘If he left with you – you’d have a companion, a comrade in arms, and Zhesu knows you’ll need one.’

  ‘No. Thank you, but we’ve covered this before. He’s inconspicuously back in his bachelor dormitory. If he turned up missing tomorrow, though, that’d point straight to you.’

  Tess lifted her head. ‘You’re right. In fact, Iern, you’re proving smarter than I, frankly, expected. It gives me double reason to stay and do whatever I can on your behalf at the Council.’

  ‘You’re a valiant lady, madame. Which I frankly expected, or I wouldn’t have come to you.’

  Her sharp profile turned toward a photograph of her late husband. ‘I try to do what Aric would have wanted.’

  Iern went into the bedroom, where the equipment lay. He started to draw the curtain. ‘Nonsense,’ the colonel said. ‘Leave that open and we’ll talk while you change.’ It muffled sound. ‘I won’t peek, if the idea makes you blush.’

  ‘Well –’ He laughed. ‘Madame, I confess that when I first joined your command, I regretted the age difference between us. Is it a court-martial offense to daydream about a superior officer?’

  ‘Oh, I knew you did,’ she answered calmly, ‘and enjoyed knowing, but was rather glad of the age and rank gap. It would never have done, my becoming one more trophy.’ Her tone sobered. ‘In that respect, Iern, you have yet to grow up. I wonder what it may have had to do with bringing on the disaster today.’

  Grimness took him. I likewise. If my brother-in-law has joined the enemy, what of my wife? I think of so many things she’s said and d
one, or left unsaid – No. Can’t be. He shed his clothes and busied himself with the altitude suit. In this cramped room, he must do it on top of the bed.

  Tess’ voice went on: ‘We won’t really know how to act, we loyalists, until we understand the whole situation. I don’t look for a full accounting tomorrow, either. But Jovain will be persuasive, oh, yes; less than candid, but persuasive. And he has avowed allies on the Council, and doubtless others who haven’t avowed it; and still others are less than satisfied with you, and will listen if Jovain brings charges – Don’t let the news you hear shake you, Iern. It’s sure to be bad, whatever it is. And don’t take foolish chances. I believe we’ll have to abide our time and see what develops, before we can even decide what countermeasures to take. Perhaps we’ll have to decide against taking any.’

  He worked the inner layer onto his feet and up his body, centimeter by centimeter, smoothing the slick black fabric to make its engineered molecules adjust their configurations and cling to him like an extra skin.

  ‘Yes, I’ll lie low,’ he promised.

  ‘Can you tell me where?’

  ‘No. Depends on the winds tonight. Dordoyn is ideal guerrilla country, but Brezh has its own advantages for me – to name the two most obvious.’

  He could almost hear how she frowned. ‘Don’t think of resorting to arms, Iern. Not yet.’

  ‘Oh, no. I meant that I can hide in the Dordoyn hills, and the pysans will help me. But maybe I should go abroad.’

  ‘That might be your best hope.’ Tess was quiet for a space. ‘May I live to see our hope flower.’

  Having sheathed himself to the neck and secured the slide fastener, Iern donned a heavy coverall. Its chief function was to protect the material beneath, lest that suffer a rip and expose him to stratospheric near-vacuum, but it gave him pockets and loops as well, to carry various necessities which he stowed in them.

  He returned to the living room and Tess helped him with the rest. Socks and boots protected his feet. The helmet shell went over a padded coif and, at its base, sealed itself to the inner skin. He left the faceplate open. After he had passed arms through straps and buckled the harness, an oxygen tank was riding between his shoulderblades. Tess connected it for him and adjusted the valves. Those were critical. He must breathe, and he must sweat. The elastic that would keep his blood from boiling also blocked perspiration, but the air unit would vent sufficient water vapor given off from his head that heat prostration would not strike him.