Infinite Day

by Chris Walley

  “Oh, Merral.” Exasperation tinged Vero’s voice. “Be realistic. You don’t just walk into strange space vessels and take them over. Not even you. Particularly this one. You were inside the slave vessel, and your account was unpleasant. We must be careful.”

  As a panicked rabbit bounded away out of the headlights, Vero continued. “That’s one reason why it’s not going to be easy getting permission for this flight.”

  “‘Getting permission’? Do we need it?”

  Vero sighed. “Evil rarely has just one child. One of the results of Clemant’s taking the law into his own hands and running off with the Dove is that there is now immense pressure to make sure nothing like it can ever happen again. That’s why they appointed Ludovica to chair this Farholme Administrative Committee. There were many reasons why she was chosen, but one was because it was felt she could be tough.”

  “It was Clemant and Delastro who ran off with the ship, not us.” Through the screen, Merral saw a fluttering group of moths being buffeted out of the way.

  “Oh yes, but you and I must figure highly on any list of uncontrolled elements on Farholme. No, I guess it will have to go to committee meetings.”

  “Vero, I don’t want to be controlled by a bureaucracy!”

  “And neither do I. But this is the price we must pay. Alas, poor Farholme,” Vero said as if to himself, “swinging from anarchy to bureaucracy.”

  Merral slid the windows down to take in the warm, dusty air with its fragrance of woods and grass and life. Where we are headed, I will not get any of this.

  “Vero, where at the airport are we going?”

  “North end. The Inter-System Freight Transfer Depot. It’s a big hangar that has been empty since the Gate went. It’s big enough to hold everything we need. I have already sent a message for them to direct Ludovica and the logistics team there.”

  “That square, brown-sided building? Okay, I can find that.”

  “Oh, Merral, one more thing. I also took the liberty of putting together a small document outlining, from our point of view, what has happened over the last few months. How we found Azeras and Betafor, what really happened at Tezekal and Ynysmant, and what we know about the Dominion and the Freeborn. I was going to send you a copy and have you add your comments. But I think it will do to send to Ludovica as it stands. And I think she needs it. Are you happy with that?”

  Merral considered the offer. “Send it. It will save a lot of explaining. I’ll read it when I have a moment.” As he said it, it came to him forcefully that Vero had written this to send to Earth on the Dove. “And, Vero . . . I’m sorry that I have wrecked your plans and we are not going to Earth. At least not immediately.”

  The sigh that followed made the depth of his friend’s feelings plain. “After the battles, I wish I could say I feel that this world is my home. But ironically, I think I just want to get back to Earth even more quickly. I know you’re a reluctant warrior, but I’m even more so. And I worry about what will happen when the Dove gets there. My friend, I fear that when we arrive at Earth we might be treated as villains rather than heroes.”

  “Vero, that is something I’ll be glad to face. If the Assembly can no longer tell truth from lies, then the days are very dark.”

  “The days are indeed very dark,” Vero whispered.

  In the long silence that followed, Merral heard his friend sending various files. They were at the outskirts of Isterrane now, and as the road widened, more traffic fed in. However, Merral didn’t slow down. A moment later an approaching vehicle had to swerve almost onto the verge as Merral overtook it. “Sorry!” Merral muttered.

  “Did you know breaches of traffic etiquette have risen by over 1000 percent in the last few months? They’re talking about making laws.”

  Merral heard a strange remoteness in Vero’s tone. As if it all no longer concerns him. Then a new thought struck him like a blow. But then, it doesn’t concern him, does it? Or me. Our focus is now the Dominion and then Ancient Earth. The fate of Farholme must be left to others.

  Vero had finished sending files, so Merral raised a question that was troubling him. “Vero, something you touched on earlier. I was on the Slave of Rahllman’s Star, and that was indeed an evil place. How can we be sure that the parent ship is not the same? or worse?”

  “Your concern is shared. We have interviewed both Azeras and Betafor on this. It seems that it may not be unbearably bad. There’s a main steersman chamber on the parent ship, but it’s now empty; you killed the only steersman. We should vent that chamber into vacuum, disinfect what’s left, and then seal it off permanently. I see no reason for us to enter it when we travel. It’s a big vessel.”

  A minute later, Vero spoke again. “Luke—who talked a lot with Azeras—has his own concerns. But you can let him discuss them.”

  Merral swung wide past a truck. “Aah, Luke. Can you call him to the airport? I need to see him.”

  “My friend, I have already done just that. He was back in Maraplant, so he won’t get here until midmorning.”

  “Excellent. Do you think he’ll come?”

  “He doesn’t know the full details about this mission, but I don’t think he will refuse. He said he wants to keep an eye on you.”

  “Good. I need him, Vero. I have found out that I am not strong enough. I have the three of you: Lloyd to look after my skin, Luke to look after my soul, and you . . .”

  “What do I do?”

  “Look after my sanity.”

  There was weak laughter.

  “Well, my friend, protecting you may be the very wisest thing we can do if you are this ‘great adversary.’”

  Merral gave a dismissive wave of the hand. “Oh, you know how I reject that title.”

  “You may d-do so, and I sympathize, but put yourself in the shoes of the D-Dominion. They probably know you were the friend of the P-Perena who dealt them such a devastating blow. They certainly know you led us at Tezekal, where they lost b-badly. And they know you led us at Ynysmant, where they lost again. Your reputation grows. I suspect if Lezaroth gets back safely to the Dominion without us intercepting him—”

  “Let’s hope not,” Merral interrupted.

  “Well, if he does, then I think your name and face will be up there on the lord-emperor’s ‘m-most wanted’ list.”

  “‘Most wanted’? Oh, I see. I don’t care for that.”

  All of a sudden they were driving through the now-deserted defensive mounds that had been thrown up against the expected Dominion advance, and Merral slowed down to wind his way through. He looked around. How long would these lines have held? Thank you, Lord, that they were not needed.

  Soon they were approaching the airport. A few minutes later, they drew up before a high-sided building; the tall doors had been slid wide open and a dusty light was spilling out into the darkness.

  As Merral walked in, a couple of men saluted. He gazed around at the huge floor area, the high gantries, and the loading equipment, smelling the dust and the stale oil.

  “Vero, this will do. See that end office? I want to make a planning room there. We need power, fresh water, and some food. Oh, and some guards to keep away the curious.”

  “I’ll get that done.”

  “Our first requirement must be people. Let’s send out a summons.”

  “Agreed.”

  “The envoy stipulated twenty-four soldiers. I’d suggest twenty generalists and four snipers.”

  “We could t-try to get four or so of the team that took the Dove.”

  “Good idea. I want people with battle experience. And, Vero, we adopt the rules we had at Tezekal when we asked for volunteers. We take no one who is an only child, a parent, or newly married. And they need to have had a full medical.” This is all going to take time. Launch time is receding still further.

  “From what Azeras said, they also should have a psychological checkup.”

  “True; this will be a long, high-stress mission.”

  “I-I was also thinking of
the Below-Space psychological effects that we’ve heard of.”

  “Yes.” Merral thought for a moment. “Other crew? Luke as chaplain, clearly. I presume we take an engineer and a doctor. And a communications officer.”

  “I’ll work on those. But you didn’t mention a pilot.”

  “No. I didn’t.” Merral found himself staring at the floor. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Remember the pilot who took us to Ynysmant? Istana Nelder?”

  “Yes.”

  “When I left Ynysmant it wasn’t clear what had happened to her. They couldn’t be sure . . . after the shelling.”

  The pause revealed the worst. “Sorry, my friend. She is confirmed dead. She was in the Emilia Kay when it took that direct hit.”

  Another death. Oh, how I hate this business!

  “I feared so,” Merral groaned. “Vero, since this started I have flown in action with two pilots: Perena and Istana. Both are dead. My track record isn’t very good. I can hardly bring myself to appoint another.”

  Vero patted him on the back. “Merral, you are hardly to blame for either d-death. And feeling unlucky is not a good idea. Not where we’re going.”

  Merral considered the matter. “No. It isn’t. Okay. Get the best pilot you can. But she needs to know the odds. And she needs to be able to work with Azeras.”

  “I think I know the right person.”

  “Good. Anything else?”

  “My friend, I was thinking General Lanier should be fully in charge of Langerstrand now. Why don’t I get him to send over anything they have found there that might have relevance to the D-Dominion? If Lezaroth left in a hurry, there may be data or equipment there. We may b-be able to fill our information gap.”

  “I approve.”

  A vehicle rumbled by outside. Vero looked at Merral. “Your first visitors. I’ll make those calls.”

  “Thanks. And better bring in some coffee. One thing I am certain of is that this is going to be a long, long night.”

  Just after five in the morning, Merral leaned wearily on the guardrail of the balcony and, squinting to avoid the intense lighting, gazed out at the growing activity below him. The silent, dusty emptiness of the hangar had been utterly transformed, and the building now echoed with the sounds of urgent voices and the clatter and whine of lifting and loading machinery. Behind him, from the main office space, he heard insistent and urgent arguments from the team compiling the supply lists.

  We move fast. But Lezaroth is already on his way to the Dominion. Do we move fast enough?

  And with that thought came the worrying memory that the committee Vero had prophesied had yet to meet. Merral had had a number of meetings overnight with Ludovica Bortellat and an ever-swelling logistics team, but progress on decisions had been painfully slow.

  Trying to evict the concern from his mind, Merral gazed around. In the far left-hand corner of the vast space he could see Lloyd’s large form presiding over the assemblage of some brilliant orange crates. The lurid color and the exaggerated caution exercised by his aide confirmed they were stacking weapons. In the opposite corner, a semicircle of blue-uniformed men and women holding databoards were peering at a table-length floating hologram of a space vessel. At the nose end of the image stood Azeras, and next to him, seated awkwardly on a high stool, sat the green, angular form of Betafor.

  As he watched, he saw how every so often people would look up at him, and in their expressions he read a search for reassurance. They think there is at least one person here not totally out of his depth. They are wrong.

  Almost directly below him, what were evidently crates of foodstuffs and other supplies were being piled up by a team in overalls. He could see a woman with red hair active in their midst. Another concern now tugged at his mind. Anya is coming with us; it’s what she wanted, and the envoy seemed to approve. But is it wise? For her? Or me?

  A bat swung past a nearby light. Merral looked beyond the scene of activity to the high, open doors on the opposite wall; through them he could just make out that the black of the night sky was lightening. Dawn was on its way.

  “Merral,” said a voice just behind him.

  He turned to see the short figure of Ludovica. She was wearing the same cream jacket and pale skirt she had when they first met just over a dozen hours ago, but now it looked tired and creased. The pinched expression on her face made his heart sink.

  “Madam Chairman.”

  “Oh, Merral, let’s forget the formality. I have now—finally—contacted all twelve members of the administrative committee.”

  “And?”

  “They are on their way to Isterrane. We will meet there at eleven this morning.”

  Eleven? Sooner than I had feared, but not as soon as I had hoped.

  “And what do you think they will say?”

  Ludovica walked over to the rail and stood by him. “I don’t know. I have made some progress, but there are so many new factors.”

  Merral was silent.

  “Do you know why I got this post?” Ludovica asked in a low, reflective tone.

  “No.”

  “I was a history lecturer at Stepalis University until five years ago. I specialized in the politics of the period just before the Great Intervention. It was considered an area of late ancient history, full of interest and peculiarity but of little relevance to the world of the Assembly.”

  Merral caught a glimpse of a wry, short-lived smile.

  “I had some of the smallest classes at Stepalis. And now . . .” Her tone abruptly shifted to one of sorrow. “Now suddenly I find my research to have been utterly relevant. And when I see all this I think, ‘I’ve been here before.’”

  She turned her tired eyes toward the group inspecting the holographic ship. “Merral, it’s all too much for the committee. Clemant—and Delastro—betraying us, and then all this. The loss of the hostages, this Sarudar Azeras of the Freeborn, this Betafor creature. Too sudden. All too much.”

  From below came the whirring noise of a hoist.

  “But we have to go.”

  “I understand your concerns. But I have at least two members who say that if we can get this ship, we should pursue the Dove. Anyway, they have agreed that I have to talk with the sarudar and this Betafor. I have said I will get a computer expert to look at Betafor—a Professor Elaxal.”

  “As you wish. But have you circulated Vero’s report to them?”

  Ludovica gave a drained smile. “Oh yes. And it has been read. But that has worked both ways. We have all now realized that so much has gone on behind our backs that we must have much more openness in the future.”

  She brushed crumbs off her skirt in a firm but abstracted manner. Merral was struck by how much Ludovica had changed in the few hours he had known her. The air of competence and the sense of being in charge had largely gone. She looked up at him as if she had heard his thoughts. “Merral, when I took over this position, I resolved that the slackness in Farholme society that had allowed the debacle with Clemant would end. I would manage things tightly. Farholme would be safe with me.” Her face showed determination mingled with doubt. “That was midday yesterday. Four hours later, I released you, and that promise has been battered ever since.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  Behind Ludovica, Merral saw Anya approaching with, inevitably, another list. He took it and then, already glancing down at the items to be requisitioned, introduced them to each other.

  “Lewitz? The sister of Perena?”

  Merral glanced up to see Anya’s reluctant nod.

  “I am privileged. Words cannot express what we owe to your sister. We are considering a memorial. But you plan on going on this voyage?”

  “Yes.” The answer was barely audible. Anya’s expression was neutral, but Merral had the strongest sense of intense discomfort.

  Ludovica took a deep intake of breath and, without warning, embraced Anya. “My dear girl,” she murmured, “I wish I had your courage.” Anya’s response was utt
erly unyielding and awkward.

  Smiling, the older lady stepped back and turned her gaze to Merral. “The quality of your team impresses me. If you are to go, then it is such people who should go with you.”

  Troubled—but without really knowing why—Merral muttered some noncommittal response and signed Anya’s form. With what Merral recognized to be exaggerated politeness, Anya thanked Ludovica for her good wishes and strode briskly away.

  “Impressive,” Ludovica murmured. “Now I have some more calls to make, and I need to talk to these strangers. And I might try to get an hour or two’s sleep before the meeting. You might try that too. We all have hard decisions to make. So I’ll see you later.”

  Then, with rapid, determined steps, she left.

  Merral stood there for some time thinking about the many things that troubled him. He made another tour of inspection, and near a pile of sheeting almost bumped into Anya. Her face bore a perturbed expression.

  Merral walked with her to a quiet corner. “You don’t have to go, you know,” he said.

  The blue eyes stared at him blankly for some moments before she answered. “I need to go. That’s all.”

  What can I say? Can I probe why? “You seemed unhappy at Ludovica’s comments.”

  “Unhappy? Yes, I was. I felt that—” She shook her head angrily. “No, I won’t say. I’m not sure I can say.”

  “There’s no pressure.”

  “There’s every pressure in the world.” The words snapped out. “But I am going. Sorry, Merral,” she said. “It’s another battle I must fight. And one you can’t do for me.”

  Merral was aware of something invisible passing between them. He realized how much he wanted to hold her and reassure her that he cared for her, but with it came the realization that he couldn’t. Perils lie ahead; I must not add to them.

  “I have work to do,” she said abruptly and left.

  Merral gazed after her. I’m not convinced she should come, but what can I do about it?

  Ten minutes later he decided that if he was to be fresh for all the meetings and decisions of the coming day, some sleep would be sensible. Leaving instructions that he was to be woken in two hours’ time, Merral found a bunk and, fully clothed, lay down and slept.