Empress of Eternity

by L. E. Modesitt

  “That depends entirely on what I discover. That’s why it’s called research. You may think you know how it will turn out, but it may not. And there’s always the chance that another researcher won’t be able to replicate your results. I’d like to think it will make a difference, one way or the other, but…”

  “Do you really believe great secrets are hidden in the canal?” Ashauer’s words were direct, neither skeptical nor scornful.

  “That’s not the question. The fact that we can’t even analyze the stone, let alone replicate it in any fashion, indicates great secrets are there. What lies beyond the stone itself, if anything, and whether we can determine that, remains to be seen.”

  “Interesting, the way you phrased that. ‘Whether we can determine that…’ Could anyone else? Who else might that be?”

  “Ashauer…civilizations rise, and they fall. The canal appears to have been created by human beings. If we fail, and civilization again rises…someone else will doubtless try.”

  “You don’t sound optimistic about our future. Some even might say that’s not a good attitude for an assistant minister.”

  “Tauzn, for example?”

  “The Minister of Protective Services does believe that all problems can be resolved by application of a relentlessly positive attitude.”

  “And by removal of all those without such an attitude?”

  “Maertyn…I’m certain that the current Executive Administrator would scarcely countenance the implementation of such an approach by any of his ministers.”

  “I appreciate that, and it’s clear that you do as well.” What was also clear was that Ashauer was implying that Tauzn would be seeking election as the successor to D’Onfrio, and that more than political views would change.

  “Of course, any positive results from your work could not but help influence the course of other events.”

  “Of course.” In short, the EA needed every positive development he could find to derail Tauzn’s bid to succeed him, and Tauzn really didn’t want such developments, or at least not until he was the EA. Maertyn took a larger swallow of the wine. It suddenly tasted bitter, and he set the goblet back down on the pale blue of the table linen as the server neared.

  “You always did like cream of mushroom. So did Maarlyna. Jaelora reminded me of that the other day.” Ashauer smiled. “You’ve been very cautious. I imagine Maarlyna still does enjoy cream of mushroom.”

  “Of course.” Maertyn smiled in return.

  29

  32 Quad 2471 R.E.

  Sandstorms raged all day on sevenday and through the night, but showed signs of subsiding on eightday. For the fact that the storm had lasted that long, and carried enough sand to totally cover the RF wheeler, Eltyn was grateful. For the fact that neither he nor Faelyna made any progress beyond the simple commands to open, close, or lock the openings in the station stone he was far less grateful. He was also relieved that Rhyana continued to deal with the riffie captive, although the man refused to eat and would only drink water.

  That was the riffie’s problem, Eltyn told himself, especially since he had no doubts that once the storms died away it wouldn’t be that long before the next attack. In the meantime, Eltyn and Faelyna sat, side by side, in her work space, where the projector was trained on the window, and where they could both physically watch the screen that projected and tracked shadow images.

  Faelyna had been able to capture the shadow images of the direct commands that floated “somewhere” in or beyond the stone, almost like a list, but there was no effect if she touched the image on her screen or if she projected a point of shadow at one of the symbolic lines. The door or window only opened or closed or locked if the correct symbols were replicated and projected into the stone near an aperture. Which aperture opened or closed depended on the second symbol. When any action occurred, another set of symbols appeared, a set that looked totally unlike the first set. While the first set appeared white, as did Faelyna’s commands, the second appeared “black.”

  Interrogative depth of projection? inquired Eltyn.

  Depth? It’s not relevant. Not in the dimensions into which we’re projecting.

  Multidimensional multiverse? Disproven by Sancrataz’s Theorem.

  [snort] The stone of the wall measures less than a yard in thickness. From the energy used to project and return, it’s more like a kay. Is the stone impossibly dense…or is the distance transdimensional? Or…???

  What about energy resistant?

  Possible, but improbable, given the lack of subsidiary energy scattering or heat buildup.

  Eltyn lowered his eyes from the screen, closed them, and massaged his forehead. Treat as a differential?

  The door commands/language as a differential of the overall command structure?

  Eltyn shrugged. Or an integral. Something like that. Some linkage necessary.

  Linguistics as a calculustic structure?

  Structurally deterministic is another possibility, he offered.

  ?????

  Interrogative linkage trace from specific command…shadow under/overstructure?

  Faelyna opened her virtie-screen to him.

  Eltyn studied it, then compared it to the real-time screen before him. Finally, he replied, Color symbolism is culture-centric, but in most cultures, white and black are opposites, if linked.

  Some sort of inversion?

  That’s a guess2.

  More like guess5! she replied. Linguistic/symbolic inversion? How?

  Program the system to invert physical symbols?

  Then compare?

  Attempt worthwhile for reaction, suggested Eltyn.

  Attempting [wry humor].

  Eltyn shifted his attention to the images outside the station, where the last traces of the sandstorm were beginning to fade away.

  After close to two hours of work, Faelyna offered an “inverted” command.

  No reaction at all appeared on the real-time scanning screen.

  Change color of command to black? Eltyn suggested.

  Attempted already…haven’t discovered operatives for color change within stone.

  Interrogative change of energy levels? Harmonics? Overtones?

  Would require additional modifications to projector.

  Eltyn considered the possibilities, wondering whether varying the projected power levels of the signal would have any effect at all. He knew he was missing something…

  FLASH! Urgent! Incoming missiles! The local system warning flared crimson through Eltyn’s skull.

  Retract and shield! Retract and shield! The repetition was unnecessary, Eltyn realized after the fact, but there was no harm done. Report status.

  All shields in place.

  Report damage in real time.

  The system did not acknowledge the command. Systems didn’t, unless programmed that way, and Eltyn hadn’t bothered to reprogram it.

  The two of them sat there without communicating for several minutes.

  “The time for ‘submit and all will be well’ is over, it would seem,” he finally said.

  “The Twenty never meant that all would be well, only that they’d prefer not to use force.”

  “I wonder how many other isolated stations are receiving similar notification.”

  “We can’t be the only one, I wouldn’t think.”

  “No. Just one in a location where no one will see or hear the detonations.”

  Main scanning antenna inoperative. Local antennae and scanners operative. Power grid operative.

  Unshield local one. Status?

  One scanning.

  Eltyn accessed the local input, conscious that Faelyna had linked in as well. The image of the area to the east of the station showed a slight cratering just south of the canal wall and roughly even with the east end of the station.

  Interrogative scare tactics? pulsed Faelyna. Or do they think we have a comm-link to what’s left of MetCom or The Fifty?

  ???? Does it matter?

  The image
from the local antenna abruptly shivered.

  Lock all the doors and windows, suggested Eltyn. Visitors before long.

  Unless they can’t reach us immediately and want to disable comm.

  Eltyn thought, then pulsed, Your alternative more likely, but…

  Locking station.

  Shield local one. Unshield two and report.

  Two scanning.

  Eltyn accessed the image of the area to the west of the station. Again, the stone and station were undamaged, but a half crater radiated away from the stone south of the west end of the station. That half crater looked to be twenty yards across and at least five deep.

  Directed monatomic hydrogen warhead… mused Eltyn. What happens if the next one is nuclear?

  We lose all power except what’s stored in the capacitor batteries below, because all the collectors and generations get vaporized, along with the cabling, and The Twenty loses its reputation for being merciful, and the whole world knows it.

  Nuclear “persuasion” unlikely?

  Unlikely3…for now.

  They watched and waited for another ten minutes, but no more missiles or warheads arrived.

  “Back to work,” suggested Faelyna.

  “I’ll try to add variable power projection…”

  “Thank you.”

  Abruptly, Eltyn recalled what had struck him just before the missile attack. “I was thinking…whoever set up the control system wanted someone to be able to decipher it. They just didn’t want it to be easy. So what is it that they wanted us to learn?”

  “I’d thought that, but I haven’t figured out an answer yet.” She smiled, faintly. “I wish I knew more about fermionic entanglement, something more than the basics.”

  “Maybe the whole universe is entangled.”

  “We already suspect that.”

  “Maybe all universes are entangled,” he bantered.

  “You might be onto something…”

  Exactly what, Eltyn had no idea, but he smiled anyway.

  30

  18 Siebmonat 3123, Vaniran Hegemony

  At three minutes to ten in the morning, two days after the previous Aesyr attack, Duhyle and Helkyria were testing her “apparatus” on the main-level windows and doors. They had verified that the equipment did in fact open, close, and lock the exterior apertures when Captain Valakyr appeared.

  “Commander, ser?”

  Helkyria looked up. “I take it that some Aesyr force is approaching.”

  “Yes, ser. Two submersibles and a cargo vessel that is most likely a troop carrier.” Valakyr’s voice carried faint puzzlement, as if to ask why the vessels had been allowed to reach the western shore of Vanira. “They’re likely two hours from reaching the canal.”

  “I’ve been in touch with the Magistra of Security, Captain. I see no sense in losing satellites and threatening the future over those attackers. Not yet, at least. Bring all your troopers and food into the station…and as much equipment as will fit with them comfortably. We can seal the station against them, and not even the Hammer can broach the stone.”

  “That’s eighty-five security troopers in addition to the seven spec-ops techs, ser.”

  “There’s room enough, isn’t there?” replied the scient-commander. “They all fit in the larger lower chamber for your briefing.”

  “I beg your pardon, ser, but with only two exits, attacking them from inside the station might prove…difficult.”

  “Attacking them with conventional weapons would prove nothing and would merely give them the excuse to use the Hammer. None of your troops would survive that, and the use would push us that much closer to destruction. Now…if you would muster them in the lower spaces and inform me when everything is settled.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Duhyle saw that the captain was less than pleased.

  Once Valakyr had left the chamber, Helkyria added, “Knowing which battles to fight and when is often more important than winning the irrelevant…or worse, losing it.”

  “How are you going to use the station? Beyond being a shelter?”

  “At the moment, I have no exact idea, other than I think I’ve managed to mimic the upper-level command structure,” admitted Helkyria. “I’m convinced it has other capabilities. At the least, the troopers will be safer inside the station, and we’ll have postponed immediate disaster.”

  “What else about the upper-level command structure?”

  “It branches into other…areas…I need to get on with looking into that. You and Symra might see how you can assist the captain.”

  “I can do that.” Much as Duhyle wanted to know about those “other areas,” he also knew there was no point in pressing Helkyria.

  He nodded and headed out to find the subcaptain.

  In the end, Duhyle’s greatest help to the security captain was his understanding of where what gear and supplies could be stored, particularly in the lower level. Even so, it took most of two hours before he, Symra, and Valakyr were satisfied that every possible space had been utilized.

  “It’s tight,” declared Valakyr, “but we didn’t have to leave anything of great value outside.” She paused, then added to Symra, “Except for your vehicle.”

  “We extracted all the equipment and the shielding generator.”

  Valakyr looked to Duhyle. “If you wouldn’t mind conveying to the commander…we’re standing by for her orders.”

  “Certainly.” Duhyle linked to the station systems to check the outside monitors. The lead Aesyr vessel, one of the submersibles, was holding position a kay or so to the northwest of the station, off the middle of the canal, apparently waiting for the others. “It might be a while. The Aesyr aren’t in position to do anything yet.”

  Valakyr nodded.

  Duhyle strode the ramp to the main level and to Helkyria’s working area.

  She did not turn from the screens before her.

  “They’re all mustered inside, and everything we could get inside is stored.”

  “Good.”

  “They’re standing by for your orders.”

  “They’ll be standing by for some time,” said Helkyria. “The Aesyr will send a small recon force. They’re looking for an excuse to use their Hammers. We won’t give it to them.”

  “What do you want me to tell the captain?”

  “Just tell her that…and to stand by and that, if anything changes, she’ll be the first to know.” The scient-commander paused. “Tell her that what I’m doing might result in…oddities.”

  “Oddities? She’ll ask what kind.”

  “I don’t know, but there’s a mental aspect to the command structure. The system is partly anticipatory, and that suggests that it reads intent. I can’t tell what else it reads, or how it may react. There might be strange sounds that aren’t really sounds, or momentary illusions, or dead silence…or nothing at all.”

  “Is everything locked?”

  “Not yet, because a total lock might sever the power and comm-links, but tell the captain and the subcaptain that no one is to leave because I may lock down everything at any time. Then you and Symra should come back here.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Dearest.

  The faintest pink suffused the tips of her locks. But she did smile. Insubordinate…but appreciated, dear man.

  He’d really wanted to say the endearment aloud, but since his current position technically required a “Yes, ser,” he’d compromised with a non-salutatory acknowledgment. Then he headed back down the ramp.

  Once he’d delivered the messages to both officers, he hurried back to see what Helkyria was doing. He didn’t wait for Symra.

  A half hour later, he and Symra still stood behind Helkyria as she worked on the console that she and Duhyle had built, while she occasionally checked the eternal screens and monitors. Duhyle did his own observing, noting that a comparatively high-speed launch had left the cargo vessel that now waited offshore with the two submersibles and cruised swiftly toward the station. Two more sub
mersibles? How long have they been planning this revolt? Or were those research craft that they appropriated and converted? He knew his thoughts were wandering, but all he could do at the moment was wait. Good techs, engineers or not, could.

  Another half hour passed before the first of the Aesyr scrambled up a boarding ladder temporarily affixed to the canal wall. Given the height of the wall above the water, it was a long climb. Because the attackers wore blend-ins, Duhyle strained to determine precise movements, but it was clear that the first Aesyr arrivals were surveying the area.

  Then, three figures moved toward the station.

  “Locking the station,” said Helkyria coolly.

  The light seemed to change, although Duhyle couldn’t have said how.

  Then, he froze for a moment, because an image appeared literally before him—that of a couple. Both had short and curly dark brown hair. They were roughly the same height. The woman was closer to Duhyle. She had dark hazel eyes, a tan skin, lighter than his or Helkyria’s, but darker than that of a northerner or an Aesyr. Both man and woman had strong but slightly pointed chins, and both wore identical formfitting singlesuits that left very little to the imagination. Each wore a patch or an insignia on the right shoulder, a design of intertwined and stylized lightning bolts that curved back on each other.

  The man said something and gestured, and the image vanished.

  Where did that come from? Who are they…or who were they? Had the canal captured images from all who had inhabited it? Would his image appear to some future inhabitant or investigator?

  His eyes turned toward Helkyria. He wanted to ask her if she’d seen what he had, but he swallowed. Instead of the pale blue and not-quite shapeless uniform singlesuit she had been wearing not moments before, Helkyria stood before the controls of her equipment in a shimmering and filmy golden garment that left almost nothing to Duhyle’s imagination. So stunning and inviting was the image that Duhyle found himself breathing faster and wanting to lunge forward, yet he knew it was an illusion.

  The image vanished, and Helkyria stood there in her pale blue singlesuit. A range of colors played though her hair, golden light flaring from the tips and from her eyebrows. Duhyle glanced at Symra, whose hair was momentarily a dazzling blue.