"Oh." She sat down. "Axel. This is wonderful. This is what we've been searching for. It's way more than I hoped to see in my lifetime. Far more than I ever hoped I'd accomplish..."
He sat down opposite her, and dragged his chair close enough for their knees to touch. He raised his glass. "I guess there's an article or two in this, eh?"
Before she could reply, a voice burst into his mind from inscape.
"This is an urgent bulletin. I thought you should know."
It was the voice of the Government. Marya had obviously heard it too; she jerked back, spilled her drink, and cursed.
"Oh, what is it!" he snapped at the ceiling.
"The god Choronzon has won over enough votes to send six destroyers of the Archipelagic fleet to Ventus," said the Government. "He has made a convincing case for Armiger being a resurrection seed of 3340. Since you and Calandria failed to stop him on the surface, the fleet has orders to locate him from orbit and nuke him."
"That's crazy!" said Axel. "You can't find Armiger from orbit, we tried that. Why do you think we had to go down to the surface?"
"If they are unable to locate him, the destroyers have authorization to sterilize as much of the surface of the planet as they need to in order to ensure his destruction. Choronzon believes that the infrastructure of the Winds makes a resurrection seed particularly dangerous here. A resurrected 3340 could command the full resources of the planet almost instantly."
"Sterilize...?" Marya looked to Axel.
"Choronzon has convinced enough reps and metareps that the loss of life from cauterizing part of one continent will be minuscule, compared to the immediate loss of all human life on the planet that can be anticipated if 3340 revives."
"Sterilize," Axel told Marya, "means holocaust. Destroy Iapysia completely, and probably Memnonis too for good measure. Everyone... everyone we met there, every place we went, everything we saw.
"Wait!" he said to the Government. "We've got important new information to add to the debate."
"The destroyers are on their way," said the Government. "I will convey your information; but you need more than that. You need to present an alternative plan, or the sterilization goes forward."
Axel and Marya stared at one another in horror. Finally, Axel cleared his throat.
"Time to call in some favors," he said.
§
There is a ceiling to the sky.
For a while Calandria knew this, but couldn't make sense of why or what it meant. Gradually it came to her that she was lying on her back, gazing up at a sky blue save for a single drifting cloud—but the sky was patterned with a fine net of triangles. Puzzling.
She let her eyes track along the triangles. There were thousands; they formed little hexagons and squares, a very orderly array. The cloud was underneath them, so they must be very big, or very high up.
She knew this kind of pattern. Tesselations. Geodesics.
Geodesic structure. She was inside an aerostat.
With that realization she was suddenly wide awake, and her heart pounding. She remembered the siege, and the terrible things she had done in trying to reach Armiger. She remembered being shot, subdued in chains, and dragged before a general who promptly traded her to the Winds.
Calandria groaned. After that first incident with the Heaven hooks, she'd had a presentiment that things would end this way. She couldn't explain it to Axel—or even to herself. She had simply known they would come for her. And now they had her.
She curled up in a ball, willing it all to go away. Even with her eyes and ears stopped, though, she could feel the slow swaying motion of the aerostat. And breathing this warm dry air was hard; they must be very high up. She unrolled again and sat up.
She sat in the center of a black plain that gradually curved upward to become walls, becoming translucent as it did so. The aerostat must be two kilometers across at its widest. Various structures that might be buildings but probably weren't, stuck up out of the black surface. Like a half-built city, abandoned by its makers.
Once, before she came to Ventus, Calandria had been a hero. She had tricked the rebel god 3340 into "deifing" her. Although she knew what had happened after that, the memories weren't clear. Her human mind had been buried, after all, while the god-mind betrayed 3340. With Choronzon at her side she had hunted down the rebel, and Choronzon had destroyed 3340 while she looked on.
And then she had willed herself to become human again. Axel didn't understand why she'd done that, and she wasn't too clear on it herself. She had been a god—immortal and free. Yet she had chosen to become human again.
In quiet moments, Calandria knew why. It came down to the phrase "unfinished business". She was a successful assassin, a powerful agent in Choronzon's service. Formidable and respected. But in her heart of hearts she felt that however much she had succeeded at those things, she had failed at being human. Something was lacking; she could never completely connect to people. It was this feeling of being an outsider that had attracted her to the gods and their wars to begin with.
In quiet moments, she knew she had chosen to become human in order to give herself a second chance to get it right.
Now she sat wishing she had been kinder to Jordan, wishing she had told Axel how much he meant to her. She should never have come to Ventus. She'd blown her second chance, and there wouldn't be another.
Movement to her right made her turn her head. Some beings were walking down the inside curve of the Heaven hook toward her. Another judge, perhaps, and new executioners. She would not even die at the hands of humans.
Calandria stood up. They had removed her bonds; of course, there was nowhere to run. The surface she stood on was black, unlike the upper reaches of the aerostat—the "sky". Below her must hang the gantries and claws and cargo bays of the Hooks.
She stretched gingerly, feeling her injuries wake to protest. It was pointless to run; at least she might be able to put up a fight before they took her down.
Five creatures approached her. Four of them were squat, misshapen figures, like parodies of men sprouting extra limbs and multiple slobbering mouths: morphs. The fifth, towering above them, was a slim female shape made of glowing crystal. A Diadem swan, much like the ones who had dragged her into the night, and plucked her into the sky while she screamed...
Calandria hung her head.
"We sought pathology," said the swan. Its voice was clear and bell-like. "We found you."
Calandria cleared her throat. "I am not the one you seek." Her voice seemed small to her, and uncertain. She couldn't seem to regain that fine control that let her mesmerize her listeners so easily.
"You are not the one we seek," agreed the swan. Surprised, Calandria looked up.
"You do not match the signal we have been pursuing," said the swan. "You are nonetheless a pathology."
"I came to Ventus to destroy the one you seek. That one is here to overthrow the Winds. I have been sent to stop him. The... modifications to my body, that you detected, were made to help me find him."
"What are these Winds of which you speak?" asked the swan.
"Ah. Y-You, you are. That's the name we have for you. Anyway there is a creature walking on Ventus, who's come to destroy you. He's the one you are after. He is extremely dangerous. I—"
"You are a hunter?"
"I— Yes. Yes, I am."
"You hunt the pathology."
"Yes." She was afraid to say more. Afraid to move, now.
"Have you been successful?"
"Partly. I, I encountered him during the siege. We fought. I could have destroyed him, if—"
"We may use you."
Calandria felt dizzy. Must be the air, she thought abstractly. Her knees felt weak, but she willed herself to stay standing. What had the swan just said to her? Use her?
"How?" she tried to say. It came out as a gasp.
"First, you must cease to be pathological," said the swan. It gestured with one fiery hand. The morphs stepped forward.
"Oh
no." The morphs' eyes glittered like water-polished stones. They surrounded her, muttering to one another, slapping their greasy hands on their thighs.
A hand closed on her neck and instantly, a wave of numbness spread down her arms. Calandria tried to fight, but all she saw was the black floor of the aerostat coming up to meet her, with the crowding shadows of the morphs overlaying one another.
"Kill me!" she hissed. Then her mouth would no longer work. She felt herself being pulled and tugged around; her cheek dragged along the floor. Wet tearing sounds accompanied the tugs. After a moment she was dragged across a patch of dark liquid that stank like iron.
She closed her eyes, and wept for all the missed opportunities of her life.
37
They had done nothing but ride and sleep for the past several days. At first it was an aimless run into the desert under the wheeling stars, then the cold white daylight of early winter. Galas rode sidesaddle, hugging herself and shivering. When the horses had to stop from exhaustion, they stood them together, nose to tail, and huddled together for a brief sleep.
Galas' mumbled descriptions and Armiger's observation of the evidence of the recent passage of an army allowed them to find the ruin of one of her experimental towns just before sunset on the second day. By that time Megan was cradling the queen in her arms as they rode, and the horses were weak and plodding slowly.
The razed town was surrounded by the burnt remnants of wheat fields, and a cracked spring spouted dark, iron-flavoured water in the town square. The houses had been burnt down, all save one that was only half-gutted. There were whitened skeletons everywhere, some lying next to the weapons they had used in a futile effort to save their families. Galas awoke enough to weep when she saw the devastation.
Armiger let the horses drink and refilled their water bags, then turned the animals loose among the straggling, greying wheat stalks. He made camp in the half-ruined house, lit a fire and shuttered the windows. They had no food, but at least it was warm here. There was even some bedding that had survived, and Megan bundled the queen under it near the fire.
She and Armiger sat together, arms around one another, and said nothing as the sun set. Gradually the chill in their bones receded, and after a log in the fire popped loudly, jerking them both awake and making them laugh, Megan said, "I did not believe we would survive."
Armiger was surprised, and a bit offended. "You were with me."
"I know. But how could you stop me from taking an arrow when you weren't there?"
He didn't answer for a while. "I'm sorry I brought you into that place," he said at last.
"I'm not sorry you did. I'm glad you cared enough for me to want me by your side." He hugged her closer, but said nothing. "Sometimes you're like a whole world unto yourself," Megan whispered. "And sometimes you're just a man. If you do this thing to the Winds... conquer them, or heal them... which are you going to be after that?"
"More world," someone whispered.
It was Queen Galas. Her eyes glittered in the firelight. "More world than man," she said.
The queen levered herself onto her elbows. Her hair was a black tangle, and her eyes had deep hollows under them. She smiled weakly at Megan. "But speaking as one who has been in that position, he's going to be very lonely if he doesn't have someone by his side."
Megan ducked her head. This queen always made her feel awkward.
"How are you feeling?" Armiger asked Galas. "Can you ride tomorrow?"
"If I have to." She fell back and stared at the ceiling. "But why should we?"
"You may not wish to survive, but I do," said Megan. She stood, one hand on her lower back. "There must be something to eat in this forsaken place." She bundled her shawl around her shoulders, and left the house.
"Fine. You eat. You survive," said Galas. She closed her eyes. "Leave me here tomorrow."
"No," said Armiger. "We have much to do."
"What?" She sat up. "What is there left to do? I've lost everything! My home, my people, my honour, my crown! Men and women have died by the thousands to bring me to this. They died for no reason. And now the jackals have the kingdom. They're all quislings for the Winds, and they'll sacrifice their own babies rather than defy them."
"I intend to tame the Winds," he said. "I need your help."
"You are insane! I was a fool to believe the things you told me. You are the very swindler I thought you to be." She rolled herself into the bedding, turning away from him. After a few moments he heard her weeping.
Armiger rose, and went outside to see to the horses.
The clouds had swept away again, and it was cold again. He stood for a moment looking up; no telltale moving stars betrayed the presence of starships in orbit. Ventus remained miraculously untouched by the march of Archipelagic civilization. He could only hope it would remain ignored long enough for the metamorphosis he now knew he must perform.
Megan was crouched in the street, digging up a skeleton. "I think we can salvage some of these clothes," she said. "A piece here and there. Many of the women were... well, their clothes were removed before they died."
"See what you can find." He moved past her.
Megan touched his arm. "Where are we going?" she asked. "Or don't you know?"
He nodded. "The Titans' Gates. It's by the ocean."
"I know. I've heard of it." Satisfied, she returned to her task.
He brought the horses into the house. The animals huffed and shook themselves, and blinked down at Galas when the queen sat up to stare at them. She shot an inquiring look at Armiger; he shrugged. At least they would be warm here tonight.
One of the horses pissed unself-consciously, filling the room with the reek of urine. Galas groaned in disgust.
Good, thought Armiger. At least she was distracted from her larger misery.
He and Megan bustled about, and eventually Galas was sitting up, blankets off, watching them. It didn't seem to occur to her that she might help. Armiger inventoried their gear, and fixed some straps that had broken on the horse's tackle. Megan had found some withered carrots and other unidentifiable roots, and had stripped several hands-full of wheat. These still had their husks, so she spent a while hammering them into dust with a brick, then poured the resultant grit into a pot she'd found, along with the roots and some water. The husks floated, and she skimmed them off carefully.
Galas spoke for the first time in nearly an hour: "We're actually going to eat that?"
"Yes." Satisfied that the pot was at the right height over the fire, Megan left the house and returned with a pile of stiff, mottled clothing.
Galas looked at the clothes as though they were snakes. "Where did you get those?"
"Here and there. It all needs to be cleaned. Tomorrow we can do that."
"We need to ride early," commented Armiger.
"Then I'll rise earlier than early."
Galas had started to cry again. Megan looked at her in exasperation. "Oh, what is it!"
Galas pointed. "I can't wear the clothes of people who died because of me!"
Armiger stood up. Megan looked at him, then down at the clothes she held. She was blushing.
"How can you be so... so..." Galas swayed to her feet. "Doesn't any of this matter to you? We're camping in someone's house! People who died because of me! And you're just plundering their graves without a second thought!"
Megan looked down. Armiger came over to Galas and offered his hand. She took it and continued into his arms, to cry into his shoulder. "Forgive our insensitivity," he said. "Megan has lived a harder life than you, your highness. She is more used to sacrificing dignity in the service of life. And I am unused to feeling at all."
Galas pushed him away. "Did you bury them?" she demanded.
Megan looked down. "One must have priorities," she said.
"Give me your shawl," said the former queen of Iapysia. Startled, Megan complied. Galas grabbed up the stout digging stick Megan had leaned by the door, and went out.
Megan started after Ga
las, but Armiger stopped her. "Let her," he said. "She'll be better for it."
They sat down by the fire, and she tended the meagre soup while he sorted through the clothes of the dead. Outside they could hear Galas digging. She did not come in to eat, only moved farther afield, searching for the bones of the people who had trusted her, carrying them to a pit she had dug with her own strength in the frosted ground.
It was still dark, and the temperature well below freezing, when Armiger walked to the edge of town and sat down on a broken piece of masonry. His breath made a white cloud before him; the sand crunched under his feet. He adjusted his body to the cold, and gazed up at the stars.
No ships. Just the faintest hint of the Diadem swans, a slight iridescence at certain degrees above the horizon. Beyond them, Diadem itself glowed bright and constant.
He had not yet had a chance to test the knowledge he had taken from the boy in the cave. He was, Armiger thought ruefully, too human now to focus his concentration that well. During the ride here he had thought about his companions, about the war, about his intentions when they reached the Titan's Gates. He had tried to think about Jordan's implants, but the kind of thought required was nothing like human cognition. He was quite simply out of practise.
Life held strange ironies. The more he pursued his goal here on Ventus, the more human he became. The more human he became, the less he wanted to achieve that goal.
Even more ironic was that his reasons for wanting it had changed. Where before he was obeying the deep-seated programming 3340 had laid in him, now he wanted to overthrow the Winds because he loved these women he travelled with, and wanted them and their kindred safe.
The question was whether he was acting only to help 3340 or the humans, or somewhere in there was he doing this for himself?
What do I want, he had asked himself as they rode here. He had come to conclude that he didn't know.
He sighed heavily. Enough. He had come out here to work; he should get to it. With one last glance at the stars, he shut his eyes.
Armiger had not actually extracted the nanotech fibres from Jordan's skull when he touched him in the cave. He had mapped their location and functions, essentially photographing them down to the molecular level. The data was enough for him to reconstruct what had happened to Mason's nervous system. As he called the data up now, the older, inhuman parts of his mind awoke, and he traversed the entire tangle of synapse and quantum wire, comprehending its structure and purpose in an instant.
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