Webdancers

by Brian Herbert

  Hearing a noise behind them, Dux saw the large black eagle Parais fly in, struggling to flap her wings. She managed to land on an evergreen tree branch, which sagged under her weight. He thought she might look a little smaller than before, so perhaps she had managed to shed some of her mass. Or, it was only his wishful thinking. She still didn’t look well.

  Noticing the shapeshifter, Grandma Zelk scowled at it. Her fingers rested on the handle of her powerful handgun, then moved away.

  “Zehbu is displeased with the sins of mankind,” the old woman said, “so he seeks vengeance on the inhabitants of the planet.” Her voice became eerie and shuddering as she added, “None of us are safe anymore.”

  She brought a smaller, yellowing pouch from the larger one at her waist. Dux had seen it before. It was her special “healing powder,” a green dust that reminded him of a similar-looking substance that he’d seen Eshaz sprinkle on the ground of Canopa once, during a momentary lapse when the Tulyan had not seen him watching. Dux wondered now if the substances might be related, and perhaps even identical.

  Grandma Zelk opened the little pouch carefully, and for several moments she stared into it. But for some reason she did not reach in and sprinkle any of the contents around. Instead she tilted her head slightly, as if listening for something.

  At that moment the ground shook violently for several seconds, and everyone struggled to maintain their footing. Acey hurried to his grandmother to help her, but she stood on her own and shook him off. Dux heard a distant roar, and was shocked to see the stream hiss below them, and turn to glowing red. Moment by moment, it became a heavier flow.

  “Magma,” Kekur said, in a mechanical, matter of fact tone that seemed out of place for the emergency. But after that he said, “I am reporting this rupture of the planetary crust to headquarters.”

  The glowing river flowed surprisingly fast, a powerful torrent heading for the valley floor below. Then, filling the old stream channel, the molten material began rising toward Dux and his companions, climbing the banks several meters a minute and causing trees and loose rocks to tumble into it.

  Abruptly, the flow changed. A crack appeared in the hillside close to their feet and some of the lava began to flow into it.

  “We’d better get out of here,” Acey said, again reaching for his grandmother.

  But the rail-thin old lady would hear none of it, and held her ground. “I’m staying,” she said.

  Dux saw a pool of hot magma perhaps fifty meters down slope from them, and he felt the heat. A queer sensation filled his brain, as if part of it had cracked off with the debris and fallen into the chasm.

  Grandma Zelk opened her little pouch of healing powder and scattered a pinch of it toward the lava. As if by magic, a little breeze caught the powder and lifted it into the molten material, where it sparked and disappeared. “That is all I can do,” she said, closing the pouch. “It is no use to throw more in.” Her voice trailed off and she began murmuring incantations, as if to further ward off the evil spirits.

  As long moments passed, Dux detected no noticeable effect on the flow.

  Finally, behind him he heard a squeal of pain, and saw that Parais had tried to fly to them, but had fallen to the rocky surface, where she lay in a pile of feathers, struggling to breathe.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  I can think of no more admirable trait than loyalty. It is the bond of honor that holds together relationships at all levels. The great leader can only fulfill his vision if he obtains the undying allegiance of his followers.

  —In the Words of the Master, by Subi Danvar

  Having already dispatched an attack squadron to confront the HibAdu force that Kekur had reported in the back country, Noah prepared to depart for the same region himself—a region where Kekur was also reporting tremors and the eruption of underground magma.

  A military gridjet awaited Noah at the palace landing field, along with another squadron. In his office moments ago, he had dispatched a courier message to Doge Anton, reporting the situation to him. It had been a long night, and Noah had only been able to grab two hours of restless sleep, which he had forced on himself with a dermex, something that he didn’t like to do. But it had provided him with a deep slumber, and he did not feel overly tired at the moment.

  Before leaving for the back country, Noah stopped by the garden area where Meghina and her companions had disappeared the night before. As he stepped out of the hovercar, a moist morning fog hung in the air, brightened by filtered sunlight.

  He walked around the high shrubbery and saw soldiers using ground penetrating scanners and other equipment, trying to determine what had happened. The area had been excavated, creating a large single hole where there had previously been five smaller ones. In a patch of sunlight on one side, two of Noah’s officers and a Tulyan woman investigated the exoskeletons that had been removed from the holes. They lay in pieces on a ground tarp, but enough remained of their structures to show that they had once been four Humans and a Mutati, and that their original bone structures had been altered in death to thin, dry crusts.

  Of all the strange things Noah had seen and experienced in his lifetime, what he had witnessed last night had been the most peculiar. And not just because of what he saw. While watching the whirling dancers, he had felt a powerful urge to join them, and an even stronger urge not to, because it would be dangerous to do so. He had hesitated, and then had followed the more compelling instinct, which proved to be right.

  Where had Meghina and her companions gone? Would Noah have gone with them? All of them, and Noah as well, were immortals. Now he sensed that the compulsion to join them had something to do with the never-ending quality of life he shared with them. They had been drawn into something, but he—perhaps because he had a slightly different and perhaps stronger form of the condition—had been able to resist.

  But what did I resist? And did I do the right thing? He wasn’t certain.

  Glancing at his wristchron, he knew he had to board the gridjet. Even so, he took a few moments and walked over to the exoskeletons. He’d seen them during the night when they were dug out, and now they seemed to confirm that it had not all been a nightmare, and that it had really happened.

  The Tulyan woman looked at him, and said, “They vanished into five tiny timeholes that opened up and then closed afterward. Like little cosmic jaws.”

  “Maybe we’d be safer getting off this planet,” one of the two officers said. He was Keftenant Ett Jahoki, a young man from a long tradition of military officers who had served with distinction in the Merchant Prince Alliance.

  “No place is safe,” the Tulyan said, her voice ominous. “Timeholes tear through spacecraft, too.”

  “But aren’t podships safer?”

  “True enough. They do sense cosmic disturbances and often are able to go around them, but I think Master Watanabe here would prefer to hold this planet and attempt to remedy the problems here.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” Noah said to the Tulyan. “What is your name?”

  “Iffika,” she said. “My good friend Eshaz has told me many good things about you.”

  “Thank you. But five tiny timeholes here? All in such close proximity?”

  “Infrastructure defects take varying, surprising forms. We have seen similar things occur around the galaxy. I have tested this site carefully for telltale signs. There is no question about what happened.”

  “But where did Meghina and the others go? Where did the timeholes take them?”

  “They were all immortal, so wherever they are I suspect they’re still alive. Unless the physical impact on them was so severe that it demolished their cells to such a degree that they could not regenerate.”

  Noah emitted a long whistle. “I’ve gotta get going,” he said.

  Minutes later, as he boarded the red-and-gold gridjet, he thought about the special purpose of this trip. Kekur’s additional report of tectonic activity in the back country could refer to timehole activity, and No
ah wanted to see it firsthand, accompanied by another Tulyan expert who could analyze what was going on. Even in the midst of galaxy-spanning chaos, some geologic upheavals were still considered normal. But Noah wanted to be sure. He also wanted to check on the welfare of Dux, Acey, and Kekur, along with the independent old woman.

  Making the situation even more complicated, there were HibAdus to be dealt with.

  * * * * *

  In the rugged Sirikan back country, it was midday. Overhead, the sky had darkened, as if forewarning a downturn in the weather.

  Hours ago, Grandma Zelk had scattered a pinch of her healing powder onto the magma river, and in that time there had been no apparent effect. Now she sat on a high rock staring down at the flow and murmuring trancelike incantations to Zehbu, while holding the small pouch in her hands. The level of the lava had risen closer, and now was perhaps ten meters below her. Remaining with her, Dux, Acey, and Kekur had all expressed concern that they should leave, that it was not safe to stay.

  But the old woman would hear none of it, and the boys didn’t want to risk her health by forcing her to leave. She knew this country better than anyone, and had a right to remain if that was what she wanted. Her fate had become theirs.

  Behind them, the Mutati bird lay on a flat stone. Since landing there, she had been taking measures to reduce her bodily mass, which she said she needed to do in order to remain alive. Every once in a while, Parais would glow orange and pieces of her body would peel off. Then she would adjust her form slightly, and the flesh and feathers would regenerate, as they were doing now.

  So far she had shed only a small portion of her mass, and had told Dux it was a slow and painful process—and that she needed to get rid of more. “I won’t go all the way back to my previous size,” she said. “I want to remain large enough to carry two of you at a time.”

  “We can get out of here on our own,” Acey had said.

  “Perhaps, and perhaps not,” she had said in a gentle voice. “I suspect the latter.” Then, she had grimaced from the internal pain and had concentrated inward.

  Looking back at her, Dux noticed that her feathers had lightened slightly in hue, so that they were no longer a rich black, but were instead more of a charcoal hue, with patches of dark gray.

  Beside him he heard his grandmother’s incantations louder beside him, and then she stood up. Holding the small pouch over her head, she shouted, “Zehbu, son of Buko, I implore you. Save this world!”

  At that moment, the magma bubbled and smoked, and fingerlings of molten red material rose toward her, as if the planet god was reaching out to take her.

  “Grandma, we’ve got to leave,” Dux said. But, as she had done earlier with Acey, she pulled away. She had a beatific expression on her wrinkled face.

  Despite the old woman’s stubbornness, Dux was just about to grab her and force her to safety. At the last possible moment the lava fingers changed course, and—flowing quickly—they encircled the rocky promontory where he and his companions were. In a matter of moments, before anyone could do anything, they were found themselves on an island, with lava flowing all around them. Dux felt the heat even more than before, and smelled sulfur, as if demons below were causing the upheaval.

  The lava rose again, this time all around. Higher and higher. Feeling a wave of panic, Dux saw the Mutati standing up on her bird legs. Her eyes were still a sickly yellow, veined in purple, and she looked unsteady, in no condition to fly any of them to safety. Even if Parais could lift off, she might not be strong enough for passengers.…

  * * * * *

  Aboard the gridjet, Noah’s pilot flew toward the coordinates that had been provided by Kekur. Just ahead, he saw the gridplanes and ‘copters of his other squadron engaged in aerial dogfights against the orange-and-gray aircraft of HibAdu forces. On the ground, soldiers on each side faced off. He saw the HibAdu encampment in flames, but its soldiers were still fighting fiercely.

  “Let’s help them out,” Noah said.

  His pilot nodded, and the small plane streaked into battle, firing blasts of white-hot energy at the enemy. The other ships with him followed.

  * * * * *

  Dux felt a jolt that knocked him down. To his horror, the rock under Grandma Zelk cracked with a loud report, and she tumbled into the lava. Her body hit the red-hot flow with a sickening thud and a hiss of steam, then vanished. Only her pouch of healing powder remained behind.

  “Come on!” Parais shouted. “Get on my back!”

  Grief-stricken, Dux grabbed the pouch and ran with Acey to the bird. As they were climbing on, Parais said, “I think I’ve found the right balance of mass and strength, and I feel a little better. I think I can fly, but no guarantees.”

  “Just like life,” Acey said grimly.

  She flapped her wings slowly, and began to lift off ever so slightly from the rocky deathtrap, like a heavily loaded cargo plane. Up they went, slowly and steadily. They passed through a pocket of very hot air that nearly took Dux’s breath away. Moments later, higher, the air grew cooler and more breathable.

  Looking back at the rock promontory below, he saw the loyal robot Kekur standing motionless, awaiting his fate.

  “Drop us off and go back for him,” Acey said, saying what Dux was already thinking.

  But the living lava had another idea. Burning bright red, it swept over the rock and took Kekur with it.

  Chapter Fifty

  In desperate times, desperate measures are required.

  —Parvii Inspiration

  Accompanied by two war priests and a small Parvii guard force, the Eye of the Swarm flew over a planet that glittered in varying hues, an ever-changing effect caused by solar conditions and the movement of glassy dust through the atmosphere. Once a favored site for galactic tourists and for the development of a machine army, the world had since fallen into complete disuse. With no regularly scheduled podships to bring anyone back, it was perfect for his needs.

  Ignem.

  The resurrection of this remote planet’s importance would run parallel to the reawakening of the Parvii race. Soon he would have billions and billions of Parviis to set up military defenses here. Or, he could find another similar planet for his purposes. For what he had in mind, he only needed Ignem for a few days. Certainly, no one would disturb him in that time. High overhead in the orbital ring, there were still a few hundred machines at the Inn of the White Sun, but they were not expected to be any problem. They had no means of space travel, and even their shuttles for reaching the planet were slow and easily thwarted.

  Woldn had come to believe in contingency plans. It was not something he had been particularly good at in the past when things were going well for the Parviis, but recently—in his hours of shame and despair—he had found himself reaching out, trying new things. Sprinkling seeds for the reawakening of his race.

  For some time now, his breeding specialists had been operating a new propagation program inside the telepathic bubble, which Woldn had concealed far from Ignem in a dark, remote region of the galaxy where there were no suns or planets, and no other races were likely to interfere with his plans. Thousands of Parvii embryos had already been born, and more in incubation were about to be born. It was a steady, proven process.

  But something even larger and more important had occurred, and this would involve Ignem. It would be a second, and potentially much larger, crucible for forging new life.…

  * * * * *

  Weeks ago, when Woldn and most of his swarm were on the Adurian homeworld, he had dispatched tiny spies to gather information from the entire laboratory complex. For millennia, it had been widely known that the Adurians operated the most advanced biological research and development facilities in the galaxy. But the products of those labs were not always known, since operations were kept under the tightest security. But during his visit, Woldn had taken measures to find out what they were up to.

  And he had accomplished that goal like a magician. The skill of misdirection.

  Whi
le the Adurian leaders were focused on Woldn and his swarm in the observation galleries, his tiny spies were entering secret lab areas through the smallest openings, where they gathered data and transmitted it telepathically to the Eye of the Swarm. Not really understanding what they were looking at, the Parvii infiltrators were like little cameras, recording information and sending it out for compilation and investigation. Even Woldn did not comprehend what they provided to him, so he took it back to the five breeding specialists at the telepathic bubble.

  The breeding specialists had been astounded by what they learned. Inside the bubble, hovering hear the incubating Parvii embryos, they had met with Woldn. One of the breeding specialists, Qryst, had spoken for the others.

  “The new information is exceedingly complex,” he said. “Even with years of study, we might never understand all of it. But some important facts have emerged. First, that strange leader you saw is a hybrid of Hibbil and Adurian genes, one of only three that they created in the laboratory. Three that lived, I should say.”

  “And one of them is a leader? It looks like he at least runs the laboratory, and I suspect he’s even more important than that.”

  “It seems backward, doesn’t it? Growing leaders in a bio-lab. And yet, that appears to be what they did. But beyond that, we have learned something even more important, at least for our purposes.”

  “Yes?” Woldn felt his metabolism accelerate, and he heard it buzz around him.

  “Although the Adurians have developed many methods of breeding, some of their incubation methods run parallel with ours. It is in this area that we focused our attention, trying to build on what we already know. The effort has required the mental probes of all five of us in concert, utilizing every bit of Parvii genetic knowledge that we have. And finally, I am pleased to report, we have something that is extremely useful.”

  “What is it? Get to the point, please!”

  “The Adurians have a very clever, and very basic, incubation generator that produces births in a much larger number, and at a greater speed, than we ever dreamed possible. It is so simple that I’m surprised we didn’t think of ourselves. But of course, with the historical successes of the Parviis, we didn’t need to, did we? We grew lazy, and complacent.”