If she looked back the vagabond moons dominated her view of the foothills. The moons were waiting on some signal to pounce, and she was terrified of being caught by them. Nonetheless, she had gone only thirty meters or so up the first stair before she sat down with a thump, and gasped, "I can't go on. All this riding has ruined my legs."
Armiger frowned at her. He hadn't even broken a sweat; there was no reason why he should, she supposed. He chewed and swallowed the red quartz pebble he'd been crunching for the past few minutes, and said, "We're almost there."
"I know that. Have you got any idea how much riding takes out of you? I'm not used to it, Armiger."
He tilted his head to one side. "I could carry you, I suppose." He extended a hand.
"I'd rather you didn't." Truth to tell, she didn't want him touching her. That hand had been burned off, and regrown; his skin had taken on a greyish tinge and she had been half sure before that he had stopped breathing. Now she was sure of it, as she saw him deliberately draw in air to speak.
"We cannot afford to lose any time," he said. She shrugged wearily. Armiger scowled, but said, "I'll prepare you a pill that should help."
Her smile was ironic. "Thank you."
They sat in silence for a while. Armiger was abstracted; she had the distinct impression that he was listening to something. "Jordan Mason," he said abruptly, "we are at the base of the stairs. We will rest here for a few minutes then make for the top. You can meet us there."
"You think he's that close?" she said.
Armiger shrugged. "My creatures have seen him. He's down there." He pointed. "But we can't go back for him. Not with the Winds about to move on us."
"I know you had a plan," she said. "It failed somehow, didn't it? You didn't get what you wanted from Jordan. You can't really command the Winds, can you?"
He stared off into the distance. "I've been on Ventus for nearly four years. In that time I've investigated hundreds of possible ways of overthrowing them. The best and purest is to learn their languages and codes, and simply command them. There are other ways, though—not as efficient, more destructive—but they will do."
She pointed above his head. "Those things?"
He nodded. "They are part of it. If you can't tame the plants in a garden, the best you can do is replace them. Rather than command the Ventus mecha, I can replace it with mecha of my own. These mecha are more efficient; they'll choke out the Ventus mecha in no time."
"But you'll have to cover the world with them. How will you do that?"
He gestured at the mountains that rose above them. "This is the nexus of the desal highways. Those highways even go under the sea—you told me so yourself. If I flood the highways with my own mecha seeds they will sprout everywhere. They're hard for the Winds to detect, and as long as we have the highway system intact we can continue to disseminate them. We could have a global infestation underway within days."
"Infestation... Armiger, what will these mecha do to the other life here—the flora and fauna?"
"Ah." He looked down. "Well, part of the problem with this plan is that my mecha won't have access to the Winds' network. They won't be able to coordinate resource usage with the Winds, so they'll probably throw the Ventus ecosystem out of whack."
She thought about it. "...How far out of whack?"
"Well, the idea is to threaten the Winds with disaster, so that they surrender. Once they do that, we can scale my mecha back, keep it dormant even."
"What if they don't surrender?"
"My lady," he said, "you never ask that question after you've gone to war."
She nodded, but in her heart Galas was reconciling herself to a grim possibility: once they reached the familiar plateau of the Titans' Gates, she would need to look for ways to dispose of Armiger himself, should things get out of hand. He might not believe in surrender—and she never had as queen—but if the choice were between a world ruled by the Winds, or no world at all, Galas knew how she would choose.
§
It seemed like years since Lavin had stood on solid ground. He felt the vertigo recede a bit—enough for him to walk unaided. There was no joy in the recession of this misery though; it just made more room for misery of another kind to infect him.
He stood as still as he could and watched men and horses pour out the doors of the vagabond moon. Kilometers away, close enough that their flanks nearly touched, another moon disgorged its cargo. Together they and the several behind them blotted out the sun over ten or twelve foothills and valleys.
Not everyone would be disembarking; he had convinced the Winds to use the moons as their baggage camp. In moments he would return there as well, ostensibly to give his authority to orders coming from the Winds. In reality, he had kept his most trusted men aboard the moons, and had also set up a clandestine semaphore system. He would be relaying the commands of the swans through the medium of the basts—giving his official words to their directives—but he would also be sending commands directly to his men through the semaphore.
It was windy here in the foothills. The moons were depositing the army here partly because the air was so treacherous nearer the Gates. Of course, a two-kilometer sphere made its own weather to a degree, and a dozen of them were an entire weather system; the White Wind had confided in him that this just made things worse, because weather was inherently unpredictable. The skins of the moons rippled under sudden gusts, and lightning played around their crowns almost continuously. They electrified the air and then pulled it around themselves with invisible fins, the bast had said. With so many of them all together, their electric fields interfered. Add steep mountain peaks into the equation and things became frankly dangerous.
He was counting on that.
A bast stepped up to him. It wasn't the White Wind—that one was away investigating the burning thing that had landed. "We have found them," said the bast. "They are making for the monastery, as we suspected. Your men will take the trails directly there and capture them. We will accompany you."
"They're going to get there first," he said. "And that place is highly defensible. Why don't the swans go in and get them?"
"Not an option," said the bast. "You will go."
Lavin shrugged. "I guess you're right. The desals would cut the swans to pieces."
The bast bridled. "You will not question our orders."
"I will where it concerns my men. Listen, we are too far back here for me to command them. We need to get this moon over the valley—or better yet, over the peaks themselves. We could lower a battalion using the Heaven hooks, come on them from above. They have no way to defend against that."
The bast bared its teeth. "You are saying you will fail to take the monastery from below?"
"We won't fail. It could take weeks, months, even. You could keep us supplied that long, but—"
"Unacceptable. This abomination is too dangerous. We must destroy it now."
"So why don't you use nature itself, like you did against Armiger's army in Ravenon? Send in all the animals, uproot the plants."
The bast's tail twitched. "We have tried. They will not respond. Permanence is controlling this valley. We do not have enough morphs to convert these life forms. That is why you must go in."
"Then we have to go in from above," he said. "There is no other way."
The bast turned away. Then it said, "I will ask the swans."
Yes, bring us in close, Lavin thought as he watched it walk away. Get us high, and close together in the mountains. Then we'll learn if you can fly.
42
For a moment Axel Chan was content to just smell the air. He stood on the ship's ramp with his eyes closed, letting the breeze stroke his hair like the hand of a lover. His ears popped. He was back on Ventus, and he needed no more reminder of why he'd come than this scent of pine and loam.
The navy had given them this cutter in order to let Marya do a reconnaissance of the maelstrom of swan activity building over these mountains. The Archipelagic forces had originally wanted
the Voice to lend her recognition codes to a destroyer-class ship, but the AI had insisted that they come in this small craft, without an escort. That way they could attempt to locate Calandria—a part of their plan they had not mentioned to the admiral.
Even a close orbit had not told them what was going on down here—but Calandria's transponder signal had pinged faintly from the very heart of the energy storm. When they picked up her signal, the three had exchanged uneasy glances in the cockpit. To descend into the vortex could be wildly dangerous—but if anyone on the ground might know what was truly happening, it would be Calandria May.
"Hey, move!" Marya gave Axel a small shove from behind. He sighed, and jogged down the rest of the ramp to finally stand on the soil of Ventus again. Marya came to poise beside him, and after a moment the Voice joined them. The AI's striking resemblance to Calandria May still disturbed Axel, but the Voice was obviously a different person: she stared around herself with the wide-eyed wonder of someone who had never set foot on a planet before.
"You've been here," he chided. "You dropped us off last summer, remember?"
She shook her head. "I had a different body than. To be this small and vulnerable in this environment... it's indescribable."
Both humans smiled at her. Then Marya pointed at the twin mountains rising above them. "Look! There's buildings way up there, on the side."
"Gods." Axel's mind boggled at the amount of labour it must have taken to put those structures up there. "Maybe that's where she is."
He hoped she was nearby, and not on the other side of those mountains. The ocean lay there; Axel had seen it as they came in. He had also seen strange waterfalls that vanished into shafts in the far side of the two peaks, as well as what looked like gigantic pipes shimmering under the surface of the ocean. There were a few towns around here, but no major cities within a day's travel of this place. He had no idea what Calandria might be doing out here.
He closed his eyes and concentrated. He felt the signal—but it wasn't coming from the mountains. "She's in the valley," he said. "A kilometer or two at most that way. Seems to be moving in this direction, fast."
"Should we wait, or go out to meet them?" asked Marya.
"Ka," somebody said.
A shadow whipped past and Axel and Marya ducked. The Voice turned, blinking in astonishment at the large hawk that swept in a circle around the perimeter of the clearing where they'd set down, then returned. It landed on a moss-cushioned log not three meters away, and folded its wings.
"Beautiful," whispered Marya. "Ka," said the hawk. "So you found a way off world, Axel."
"Uhn," said Axel. A bird was talking to him.
"It's me, Jordan," said the hawk. "Can you hear me?"
"Jordan?" He peered at the hawk. "How are you doing this?"
"My servant hitched a ride on this hawk. He's talking to you for me. I haven't changed myself into a hawk, if that's what you're thinking."
"No, of course not." Axel sidled closer to the hawk, looking for a speaker or antenna somewhere on it. "You seem to have come up in the world, Jordan."
"You could say that." Jordan Mason's voice held a wry tone Axel had never heard the boy use before. "Hello, Lady May."
Axel looked over his shoulder. "Oh. That's not Calandria. I know it looks like her. It's... rather hard to explain."
"Not Calandria? Where is she?"
"She's not with you?"
"No." The bird fell to calmly grooming its wing, seemingly indifferent to the human voice issuing from its body. "Listen," said Jordan, "if that's all of you, you've got to get moving. Come meet me and I'll explain everything."
"You know what's going on here?" asked Marya.
"Yes. Are you a friend of Axel's?"
"Yes. I've heard a lot about you, Jordan. I'm very pleased to meet you."
"Well, we haven't met yet, and we won't if you don't get moving. The soldiers are almost on top of you."
"What soldiers?"
"The army of Thalience."
Marya looked at Axel, her eyebrows raised. He shrugged. "We'll be right there, as soon as we collect Calandria."
"Axel, there's no time!" The hawk unfolded its wings and leapt into the air. "Follow me!" It flapped north.
Axel put his hand on Marya's shoulder. "You two go with the bird. I'll collect Cal and follow along."
"How will you find us?"
"I've got a fix on the Voice's transponder. Don't worry, I won't be long." The hawk was perched on a branch, watching impatiently. Axel watched Marya and the Voice stalk through the underbrush in its direction; then he inhaled a cold breath of mountain air and turned the other direction. The hawk cawed at him. He ignored it.
She was nearby. He had to know she was okay. Once he had her he would collect Mason and head back to the ship. With luck they could be offplanet within the hour, and with further luck Calandria and Jordan Mason would be able to tell the fleet enough to halt the planned bombardment.
He thudded over the tangle of roots and fallen pine needles, attention focussed on the signal he could sense ahead of him. It was closing on his position. She must have sensed him as well. He grinned, starting to relax.
Abruptly the trees opened out to define a well-tended trail that slotted east to west through the forest. He looked to his left, saw nothing, and turned to his right—
—Two horses came at full gallop over a ridge not twenty meters away. The lead rider shouted something and lowered a weapon across his arm.
Axel jumped back. There was a loud bang and splinters flew from the tree over his head.
The signal was very close now. For the first time it occurred to him that Calandria might be a prisoner. He cursed and unholstered his laser pistol.
The horse had stopped. "Show yourself!" shouted the rider in a thick accent Axel couldn't identify. He snuck a look around the tree; three more horses were approaching.
"Don't shoot!" he yelled. "I'm just an innocent traveller."
"Then you've got nothing to fear if you come out here."
"Yeah, right," muttered Axel.
Something moved swiftly in the corner of his eye. He whirled, in time to glimpse a giant cat-like form in mid-leap. Axel fired without thinking, and then it knocked the wind out of him and they tumbled over and over.
The furred thing fell away. Axel got to his hands and knees, shaking his head. He'd lost his pistol, but the golden cat-thing lay curled around itself, a black burn in its chest and bright blood pumping out of the center of the charred patch. It moaned, twitched, and lay still.
Where was the pistol? When he spotted it he scrabbled in that direction. He stretched out his hand to grab it—and the point of a sword came between him and it.
"Stand," said the man behind the sword. He wore the bruised-blue and russet livery of a soldier of Iapysia. He looked like he meant business. Four other soldiers had dismounted behind him.
The others looked behind themselves as several more of the cat-like creatures padded over, then stood up on their back legs. They were all gold-colored, except one which was a striking white.
This one's eyes widened and it hissed when it saw the situation. It ran forward with surprisingly human grace, and opened its arms.
"Axel!" it shouted as it wrapped its arms around him.
Someone screamed. Axel struggled to pull free of the cat-thing, and after a moment he did—or rather it let go of him and he fell. He levered himself onto his elbows, then froze.
One of the horses was down. A very large bear reared over it, bawling loudly. One of the soldiers was down too, with his hands up to fend off the hawk that was stabbing at his face.
Two foxes raced out of the forest and leaped at the remaining soldiers. Way back there, something else big was crashing in their direction.
"Fight, you cowards!" shouted the white cat. It moved with astonishing speed, knocking one of the foxes out the air mid-pounce. Then it spun on one foot and jumped backwards, disappearing behind Axel.
"Axel, run!" shouted the
hawk. It ducked in close then burst in a flurry of feathers as one of the soldiers shot it point-blank. Something iridescent, half-visible, twirled up from the falling bird, then flashed into flame and drifted down as another of the soldiers emptied his musket into the chest of the bear. It staggered back snarling. Then a third man fired, and it fell dead.
Axel turned to run—and found himself eye to eye with the white cat. It held out something. His pistol. "Take it!" it hissed.
He hesitated for a second, then grabbed the pistol and ran. Animals big and small crashed past him, all converging on the soldiers and their cat-like companions.
Axel had no idea what he'd just seen. He didn't want to know. All he wanted to do at this moment was run and keep running until he'd forgotten it all.
§
Armiger felt a trembling in the electric fields that interpenetrated the mountains. He looked up. The vagabond moons were rising again. Sheet lightning played over their vast curved sides.
"How do you feel?" he asked Galas. She nodded, and levered herself to her feet. He had spent some minutes preparing a concoction of complex molecules and nanotech, and now he handed her the pills he had distilled it down to. She looked at them doubtfully, but when he pointed to the rising moons, she dutifully tossed them back and swallowed. Then she began to slowly climb the stairs, swinging her legs wide with every step.
He looked back at the foothills. It was some testament to how exhausted Galas was that she had not spent any time looking at the view. The vagabond moons rose to fully half the height of the Titans' Gates when on the ground; although the nearest one was at least eight kilometers away it eclipsed a good twenty degrees of the sky. The sun was getting low on the horizon, and the shadow of the Gates fell across the moon, dividing it into two halves, grey below and rose colored above. Beyond it and the two companions that had landed, nine more moons clustered high in the stratosphere, where they shone in full sunlight.
Ventus Page 59
