by Glen Cook
What would the disaster mean to the mirror project?
She took the wooden darkship down to her old camp. And there she found more of the same, twisted darkships and decomposing corpses. The Serke had been thorough. She walked with her memories of her years there, rested as best she could with haunted dreams, then climbed to the stars again, running out hours ahead of High Night Rider and the survivors of the struggle.
Her thoughts kept turning to Starstalker. What had become of High Night Rider’s littermate and the one or two ordinary Serke darkships that remained unaccounted for? Nothing could be found of them at the baseworld, and they had not participated in the counterattack upon the system of their exile.
Were they on the run again, that last dozen or so? Had they another hiding place still? Would Starstalker’s survival leave a hope where she wanted all hope slain?
Marika felt very old when her home sun materialized and she saw her birthworld again. Very old and very useless. Yet she was convinced that she was far from playing out the role that had been decreed for her by the All. Beyond the few remaining tasks imposed upon her by circumstance lay her own life. She might yet have something for herself, if she was not still a tool of fate.
She directed her darkship toward the Hammer.
Bagnel met her in the airlock. He directed brethren to care for her companions. The moment they were alone, he said, “The news is spreading already. You have destroyed the rogues.”
Baffled, she asked, “How can that be? I must be the first ship back.”
“You came back. That was evidence enough. It was on every radio network within minutes of your coming out of the Up-and-Over. At least that speculation. So. Did you do it?”
“We destroyed most of them. But it was very expensive. There will be little joy of it. I am exhausted, trying to beat the news home. And I’m depressed, old friend. Yet I am elated too. For once and all I have refuted the Jiana accusation. I have led the race out of its darkest hour.”
“Have you?”
“What?”
“I don’t like the look of you, Marika. There is a new darkness behind your eyes. It is the darkness I saw there when you were young.”
Marika was not pleased. “It must be the darkness that comes of battle, Bagnel. It will be a long time before I can shake my memories of my meeting with Bestrei. There was darkness incarnate, for all her nobility.”
“There is an old saying among the meth with whom I spent my puphood. It goes, ‘We become that which we would destroy.’ “
“I’ve heard it before. It’s not always true. I will not become a new Bestrei.”
“You’re much more. You’re a thing that cannot be understood. There has been much discussion of you in your absence. Undertaken in complete confidence that you would succeed in doing what you have done. That discussion has been underlaid by fear of Marika, the wild silth, the dark-walking sister with no allegiance and no limit to her power. I know you will do what you will do and nothing I can say will shift your course an inch. So I will only beg of you, be careful. The frightened do desperate things.”
“So I have been warned already. Yet I have been given no specifics.”
“There are no specifics to be had. At least by those of us who might be tempted to relate them to their target. Only rumors.”
“What of Kublin and the rogues?”
“They have been quiet. Surprisingly so. Again, though, there have been rumors. That they have been preparing for your return, come you in triumph or defeat. It is said that they are convinced that by killing you they can start a scramble for control of the alien ship that will so embroil the attentions of the dark-faring silth that they will be left with a free paw here at home. I have a feeling their estimate is close to the truth. The rumor mill also has much to say about undercover planning in various Communities for an effort to seize and exploit the alien.”
Marika folded a lip in sardonic amusement. “So I have no friends at all. Not that I ever had. And my death would serve everyone’s purpose. I think we belong to a sad race, Bagnel.”
“I could have told you that truth the day we first faced one another on Akard’s wall.”
“Does the project continue well?”
“As well as might be expected, considering that we have had to do without the voidships that accompanied you and the fact that so many meth have become distracted by other matters. We brethren persevere.”
“Has it reached a stage where it could survive without you?”
“Everything can survive without me. I am wholly disposable.”
“A matter I would debate strongly, with you or anyone else. Would you like a new challenge? A challenge greater than putting new suns in the sky?”
“You intrigue me, Marika. If anyone but you made a statement like that... What is it?”
“How would you like to unravel the secrets of the alien starship?”
He examined her intently. “What are you saying?”
“One of the reasons I’ve come home is to recruit replacements for the rogue scientists who were studying the starship. I want you to be in charge.”
“You found it? You have it? It wasn’t just speculation?”
“It’s very real. And very strange, in the way things are strange when they are similar.” She began describing the ship.
“Ah.”
She saw the marvel he tried to conceal. The eagerness. The excitement.
“If you want it, the job is yours. But it could be dangerous. I have declared that the vessel is going to be mine, held in trust for all meth. As you suggested yourself, some Communities do not feel it should be that way. They feel they should have it for themselves, and I have been warned that more than one might try to seize it.”
“Of course. No might about it. There will be efforts to grab it. Even with the lesson of the project before them, silth are unable to comprehend the notion of working together for the good of the species. They have trouble enough working together for the good of their orders.”
“It may be a difficult thing, Bagnel. I am strong, but I stand alone out there. I will have to have support. Any team I put into the starship will be dependent upon my remaining on friendly terms with the Reugge and Redoriad. They will have to supply us. I cannot carry that load alone.”
“Even them I would not count on completely were I you, Marika. But consider: How did the Serke and rogues support themselves without supplies from the homeworld? Theirs may be the path you’ll want to follow yourself. Sever the ties entirely. Go ahead and be what they have called you, a Community unto yourself.”
“It may come to that, though I still refuse to believe that the silth can remain so narrow.”
“Refuse if you like. I will refuse to believe that you have become so naive during your absence. Are you acting? To me? You know that the unity forged for the mirror project is a harbinger of nothing. That was and remains desperation, the only answer in a struggle for survival. It has come so far even the rogues would not dream of destroying them. But their very nature makes them vulnerable in other ways, to those who seek power and profit. Among all the other accusations thrown your way over the years the secret dreams of some have been betrayed by their canards about your intentions in regard to the mirrors.”
“I have no intentions. My intentions were satisfied when I convinced everyone to build them.”
“True. But still some whisper that you intend to seize them when they are complete and use them to hold the race hostage.”
“That’s stupid. If I wanted to hold the race hostage I could do so right now, without mirrors. I am the greatest walker of the dark side this race has ever produced. If it was in me to extort something, I could scourge the population till everyone surrendered and there would not be a thing anyone could do.”
Marika bit her lip, forcing herself to shut up. This was not something that needed to be said even to Bagnel.
“I know. You don’t have to convince me. And I suspect that there is no point trying t
o convince others. They will believe what they want to believe, or, even knowing the truth, will say what they want to say to serve their own ends. Do what you have to do here, Marika, guarding yourself every second, then get out. Resign yourself to a life far from the homeworld. You may indeed be the strongest darksider ever to have lived, but you are not strong enough to survive here. I am not Degnan, nor even of the upper Ponath, but I would feel compelled to give you rituals of Mourning if you fell. And I don’t know how.”
“Enough. I appreciate your concern, as always. Will you go back with me once I finish my business here? Will you break all precedents and traditions and be second chair of my new star-roving Community?”
“I will.”
“Then examine your brethren and pick out those you think will be most useful. Prepare to travel. I won’t be long here.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I
Marika surveyed Grauel, Barlog, and her bath as the wooden darkship tumbled over the edge of the world and plunged into atmosphere. They were as ragged a bunch of meth as ever she had seen. Worse-looking than any randomly assembled band of bonds. Worse-looking even than those desperate nomads who had driven her from the Ponath, all hide, bones, and tatters. This time she had to spend long enough down for them to flesh out, to acquire decent apparel, and to prove up their health. They were next to useless in their present state.
Touches reached for her. Some she recognized as those of skilled fartouchers with whom she had communicated before, from her own Reugge and the Redoriad Communities. She ignored them all. Let them wonder.
How was it that they could find her so easily, yet when a Serke courier came in they could see nothing? Did she cast so great a shadow? Or was it that they were just looking for her more seriously?
They stopped trying to communicate as she dropped below one hundred thousand feet. She supposed they would be scurrying around at Ruhaack, getting ready for her. She could imagine Bel-Keneke’s consternation when she did not appear as expected.
The world was an expanse of white that changed not at all as she descended. For all Bagnel’s assurances, she found it difficult emotionally to believe the mirrors were doing any good. He said it was like trying to reheat a loghouse with one cooking fire. It was easier to maintain a temperature than it was to raise it once the loghouse had cooled off. You had to do more than warm just the air. The snows of the world and all that lay beneath were great reservoirs of cold that would take years to thaw. The cooling had not happened overnight. Neither could the warming. Unless she was unnaturally lucky she would not live long enough to see the ghost of normalcy restored.
Below fifty thousand feet Marika began pushing the darkship northward, toward Skiljansrode. She flung a touch ahead, to Edzeka, for she did not feel up to one of the fortress’s welcomes.
Edzeka was in the landing court waiting, though Skiljansrode was besieged by a blizzard. voctors ran to hold the darkship down and secure it, for the wind was fierce. Marika dismounted, strode toward Edzeka, and shouted against the wind, “Let us go somewhere where it is warm. I am not up to this weather.”
“Is it not cold in the void?”
Grauel, Barlog, and the bath practically shoved them into the underground installation. They were starved for a decent meal. Bagnel had tried on the Hammer, but what the brethren served was no better than meals aboard the voidship.
“Yes. But it does not touch you. There is no wind out there. Not much of anything at all. I would appreciate it beyond measure if you would see that my meth are given the best food possible. We have gone and come a long way, and have barely set foot upon a world since our visit here before. They are starved for something hot and real. Their bellies are shrunken smaller than fists. They need to be reminded that they are live meth, not some ghostly denizens of the void.”
Edzeka seemed mildly amused. “Indeed? Then you have come to the wrong side of the world. We survive on plain, spare rations here. As you and they know.”
“As we know. But those rations are feast stuff compared to what we eat out there.”
Edzeka led them directly to the cafeteria. She joined Marika at table. When the grauken in Marika’s belly had been soothed, she asked, “Why did you come here first? The impression I got was that you wanted to arrive before the news of your victory. Which you have done, more or less, though speculation will disarm the value of your effort since you have chosen not to appear among the courts of the mighty.”
“When I go among those courts I want to do so armed with the knowledge you have gleaned in my absence. About the rogue problem. I have a fixed public policy I wave like a banner, but I have no real strategy. That will be the great issue before us after I announce my success. I must have something to offer.”
“If you were counting on me to arm you I fear I am going to send you off on the hunt naked. The sisters you recruited were quite imaginative in their search for information, but the warlock is obsessive in his quest for security. I wonder that his organization grows, he is so fearful of spies.”
“I will examine what has been gathered.”
Edzeka was right. There was nothing useful in the filed reports. Marika contacted those she had recruited in hopes they had learned things they had been reluctant to impart to anyone but herself. They had very little to say that was useful. Unanimously, they did warn her that the rogue apparently had wicked designs on her life. She told them to intensify their efforts, to keep a closer watch on anything or anyone even remotely suspect. Her return should instigate movement by the warlock. Something would happen, and that something might betray him.
In discussion with Edzeka later, Marika said, “I almost fear I have wasted my time. I could have gone directly to Ruhaack and been no more ignorant. Still, there was a chance. I had to know. I suppose the absence of information is information in itself. I know him. Something is moving beneath the dark waters. I would suggest you concentrate on producing darkships. There will be a demand for replacements if things go as I suspect they will.”
Edzeka nodded curtly. “There are those that have not returned... I wonder, Marika, how popular you will be when the extent of the disaster out there is known. An entire generation of dark-faring silth gone, to all practical purposes. Whatever the gain, there will be those who will not forgive you the price you paid.” She strained to phrase herself politely. It was clear she preferred having Marika elsewhere.
“I will pluck myself out of your fur after one more good sleep, Edzeka. My rogue hunters will move their center of operations to Ruhaack. Your Community will be yours once more.”
Edzeka neither thanked her nor acknowledged the implicit rebuke.
It was impossible to slip into the Reugge cloister unnoticed aboard a voidfaring darkship. Marika cursed that state of affairs. She would have preferred having the cloister rise one morning to find her reestablished in her quarters, come like a haunt or breath of conscience out of the darkness. But she had to arrive amid all the ceremony Bel-Keneke could lay on, with representatives of all the Ruhaack cloisters watching.
Practically before her feet left the tip of the dagger there were demands for her time and news. She made one general statement announcing the defeat of the. Serke fugitives, the extermination of their rogue allies, and the taking of the alien starship on behalf of all meth. Then she retreated to her apartment, allowing only Bel-Keneke to accompany her. And her bath, at their request. She had given them permission to go to bath’s quarters this time, but after considering the pressures and attentions they might face, they elected to remain with her, hiding within her fortress within the cloister.
Marika closed the door. “I have said it in public. Now it is known and sure. Now the excitement of the aftermath begins. I suggest you be more alert than ever before.”
“How bad was it out there, Marika?”
“There are no words. Edzeka, perhaps, said it best. A generation of dark-faring silth spent to end the Serke terror. And possibly with very little actually gained. The stars
hip, though, is impressive. I wish every meth alive could be taken to see it. It is going to change our lives as much as the age of ice has.”
“And you intend keeping your pledge to hold it in trust for all meth?”
“I do. We may part somewhat on this. I do not know your exact attitude. But yes, I mean it. You will recall that I come of a region where my pack was held in primitive straits for the advantage of other meth. I resented that greatly when I learned it, and I do still, though now I am one of the other meth. I cannot allow one small group to seize this starship. It is too important to us all. How it is exploited may shape the entire race for ages to come. I do not want it to become the grauken of the age, dam of a tyranny to beggar that of the most vicious sisterhood. In the past we have allowed the land and oceans and even the stars to be seized for the advantage of the strongest few, but with this we cannot keep on in the same old way.”
Bel-Keneke seated herself before the fireplace. She said, “I read in you a deep undercurrent of fear. Never before have I known you to be frightened of the future. Not in the way I sense it now.”
“You are probably right. I would not call it that, but even the wisest of us sometimes lie to ourselves. Do we not?”
“Yes.”
“These days I am often confused about who and what I am in the grand picture painted by the All. Sometimes it seems I am the only silth alive willing to battle to preserve our traditions. And at other times I feel I am exactly what they accused me of being when I was younger, the new Jiana who will preside over the collapse of silthdom.
“And still I do not feel stronger or different. I just feel as if I am on the outside... I talk too much. We face ever more interesting and exciting times. But maybe we are over the summit now, with the mirrors in place and the Serke defeated. Perhaps a semblance of normalcy will reassert itself after we dispose of the warlock.”
“You might reflect on the fact that for most meth now living, silth included, this is normalcy. They are not old enough to recall anything else.”
