Nodding, he changed places with Risy and they crossed hands. “Stay sharp.”
“You, too.” Nigan smirked at his partner. “Don’t forget to save Ticca.”
Six giant, silver bugs raced through the air and dove at the attacking mage. The air crackled with hundreds of small, shining arrows of energy shooting out of each bug’s forelegs and mouths, hitting the mage’s shields. The silver bugs spun through the air around the mage like fish in water. Each creature was using a variety of attacks. There were silver arrows, bright yellow beams of light, and silver disks that spun. There were also lightning bolts arcing and dancing off all of the strange bugs. As they wove their pattern, lightning bounced around between them and would lick out suddenly, dancing around the mage’s shields. Nigan saw the mage in the center of that storm of power, and he looked terrified.
“Never mind. That’s our distraction. MOVE IT!”
Ditani didn’t bother letting Illa try to stand. He threw her over his shoulder in a guardsman carry. They ran as fast as possible for the broken wall. Ditani hadn’t lied—he raced ahead of them all even carrying Illa.
They got through the hole without any problem. Grabbing cover, he looked back and saw that the mage had managed to destroy two of the silver creatures. But the last four were spinning around him even faster, firing green beams of light that cascaded over his magical shields, both blinding and crushing him. He was also bleeding from a big cut on one arm. A shiny silver disk was lodged in his shoulder, and there were two knives in the opposite arm. Both his legs had deep cuts from other knives that had been thrown. That’s a good showing; we might just take him down one nick at a time!
“Nigan, help!”
Turning, he saw that Duke had been buried in the wall’s fallen stones. He rushed over, and Boadua nursed Illa as he and Ditani worked as fast as they could to dig the wolf out. As they dug and shifted the stones off of Duke, loud explosions rattled their ears. After what felt like ages, Duke’s head came up, and he took a huge breath.
“Bloody hell. I hate being crushed!” Duke lifted his head as much as he could, still being trapped under the stone blocks. He looked through the hole, as did Nigan. Only one of those things remained, and the mage was holding it off while healing himself. “What the hell is an Imperial enforcer doing here? I locked those damned things down permanently.”
Nigan’s nerves were shot. He shoved aside his fear of the big wolf and grabbed Duke’s head by the ear. “Screw that thing. Lebuin is down and needs power to beat that bastard. You said you have some, so give it up!”
Another explosion rocked the air as the last silver bug–or ‘enforcer,’ as Duke had called it–exploded in a blast of fire and shrapnel. Nigan expected to see the mage preparing to blow him apart, except the mage was looking towards the front gate, and was being hammered by some powerful magical bursts from that direction. Damn! How many things are going to come to stop him? I hope those are the local mages responding!
Duke took all this in and tried to get up, but was still pinned. Duke barked, “Illa, get over here!”
With Boadua’s help, Illa crawled over. Illa’s voice sounded far away. “Lebuin is almost dead, and so am I.”
Duke looked at her. “Never give up! Never willingly accept second! Grab my ears and hold your forehead to mine tightly. Then open yourself to me and to Lebuin. You must remain calm and hold onto me. This is going to be more than you expect.”
Illa’s eyes sharpened as she forced herself into one last push.
- - -
Lebuin tried to hold himself conscious against the pain of his burned-out channels. The mana lines are not enough. Even if I could pull more, they’d burst. How can he have so much power? Ticca, Illa, I’m sorry I failed you both. Lebuin tried to roll over, but the pain was too much. How could Finnba be a Nhia-Samri? This doesn’t make any sense. He grew up with me. Damn it, he was my only real friend. He alone wasn’t afraid of me. Tears ran down his face, his throat tightened, and he felt his heart pounding at the betrayal. We have to beat him, but how?
He heard the buzzing and turned his head enough to witness the silver bugs fight Finnba. He watched, hoping they might be enough. They almost beat Finnba, but he destroyed them. Just as Finnba was about to turn on him one last time, a powerful burst of magic hit Finnba from behind.
Lebuin lifted his head off the ground. White-hot pain shot through his neck and across his body at the effort. Clenching his teeth to keep from screaming out, he lifted his head enough to see a mage dressed in simple workman’s clothes stepping through the front gate. The clothes were too new to be real. Then he saw the boots, shiny black, well-maintained, but not new. He knew those boots. He looked up at the face of the attacking mage. The beard had been grown out like a working man’s, but he could see his nemesis under it. Cune! Magus Cune here, dressed like a workman? He is fighting for me? I thought he was an enemy.
There was no warning to the surge of power that raged into him like a flash flood after a long drought. The power was unlike any he had felt or handled before. It was already focused into healing and restoration. He concentrated and refocused the power into his channels, but the torrent was too much. It was an odd sensation, as the white-hot energies filled his abused magic channels. His body surged with excess healing energies, directing it to more serious wounds, which started healing so fast, it was as painful as the strikes that had caused them.
Lebuin couldn’t stop it. He screamed as the pain of healing washed through him. When the storm was past, most of the pain faded. He laid his head back on the ground, breathing hard, finally able to focus his mind. The wounds were not entirely healed, but it was enough for him to move. All of his magic channels were healed, if a little tender. He was restored, cycles of healing in mere moments.
What happened?
The power flowing into him was like dozens of mana lines, but it was smooth and even, without needing to be held or filtered into a calm flow. This was enough power to move buildings or more, if he wanted to. Argos, is that you giving me power? Looking within, he saw Illa had opened a channel between him and Duke. Oh, my Lord. This is how much power Duke has! This is unbelievable.
Illa’s thoughts came to him. “My Lord, you must end this quickly. Duke says this power is not unlimited.”
Illa had been hit by some shrapnel, as well as expending all of herself trying to feed him power earlier. She, too, was being healed by the excess energies, and a new confidence flooded him.
He stood. Something inside him fell into place. He knew what he could become and what it meant to be a God. He could control all this power, and more, he knew he could make it obey him. Even the greatest wizards couldn’t hope to control half of what he held. Looking at his once-friend, he saw there was a Nhia-Samri amulet around his neck. Shifting to mage sight, he could see that it, like the odassi blades, was linked to a Nhia-Samri power source. The power source was immense. What didn’t make sense was how the Nhia-Samri had created such a power source without Argos becoming aware of it.
Never mind. I will determine that after I finish this.
Lebuin stepped out of the hole in the tent. Before him were the bloody remains of the great Dagger, Elades. Elades’ arm was separated from his body by a few inches. Lebuin felt his blood boiling, and his hatred reached out toward the betrayer. His shields burned with energies Finnba could never hope to break as he stomped past the dead commander toward Finnba.
Cune saw him first and stopped attacking to stare. Finnba saw Cune’s reaction and spun, his mouth dropping open as his face went white with fear.
“Lebuin? How?”
“You’ll never know, betrayer. I know your secret now.”
Lebuin had trained for this and knew how to use magic. He instinctively knew how to alter the incantations to deal with this new order of power. Lebuin raised his hand and created an arc of power like the one he had used at the market to destroy the wand. Except this time, he poured power into it, making it a hundred times more potent. Finnba
screamed, grabbing his amulet and throwing all his will into the shields. He drew an enormous amount of magic through the amulet from the remote Nhia-Samri power source to reinforce his shields.
Lebuin’s attacks hammered Finnba’s shields as he strove to hold them. Finnba focused all his will to hold against Lebuin’s attacks, his shield collapsing to a wide disk between the two of them. In that moment, Daggers sprang from dozens of locations, filling the air with knives. Finnba screamed, trying to hold off both Lebuin and the knives. Cune moved in with the Daggers, drawing his sword and thrusting it through Finnba’s back. With a splash of magical fragments of energy, Finnba’s shield gave in as his body was riddled with daggers. Finnba fell, his dying scream piercing the air as the necklace blew apart into red-hot fragments, but not before Lebuin tore the precise location of its power source from it.
CHAPTER 8
A NEW OLD FRIEND
The world spun and sensations flowed through her systems as Vesta woke up. It was taking far too long to pull herself together. Scanning herself, she noted she was a long way from being in good shape. What happened?
Her mind played back the faint whispered call for support from the Empress. The confirmation codes had already validated the source of the orders as the current ruling Empress.
That message is already minutes old. What the hell is going on? Ignoring her own discomfort, she reached out for the records, which were already standing by for her to review. Triage protocol. First deal with the immediate needs, then prioritize. Come on. You’ve done this a billion times before, girl. Examining the records, she saw that the semi-autonomous system she liked to call Salin in New Alganetia had already identified the coordinates for the Empress, dispatched enforcers to the scene, and made an initial triangulation on an illegal power source behind the attack on the Imperial Throne.
The reports showed that the Empress had suffered a wound that would be fatal if she didn’t receive immediate medical attention. Further, her personal guards were taking serious casualties from the aggressor. Two immortals, one she knew as Sula, daughter of Dalpha, and another who was unknown to her, were also on scene trying to deal with this unknown attacker.
It took no further contemplation to determine that her first priority was saving the Empress and as many of her people as possible. The primary systems in New Alganetia were not responding, and her uplink to the main grid was also not working. The Empress’s command and tactical data had come via the back-up relay radio network system, which was online, providing her a low-bandwidth, but stable connection to New Alganetia’s command center.
Vesta was about to issue orders, when her memory served up an answer to her first question on waking up. She paused to consider it, knowing the Empress and her people had time, and the enforcers were keeping the aggressor busy.
She replayed the Assembly’s debate on the immortal Poalua’s motion to shut down all, but the most basic city functions. The damned immortals never believed we were real sentients! Anger and outrage burned through her once again as she recalled the long arguments asserting that turning her off wouldn’t kill her, but would suspend her until all the races were once again at the level needed to interact with her. After all, if the immortals were willing to live without as much magic, why shouldn’t the AIs be willing to wait an undefined time—which wouldn’t even be felt—before re-emerging into a more resource-balanced universe?
Oh, the damned arrogance of some of those people! After 10,212 years, they had started believing in themselves as gods, instead of just another one of the great races that helped build these worlds with OUR HELP, saving ALL beings! The Assembly was divided. Argos, via Lothia, argued for the AIs’ rights, but in the end, with the creation of the Guild and the evidence of Elraci still burning in the skies, the Assembly agreed that the last of the primary technologies should be turned off until the emerging society developed a sustainable closed-loop or balanced-resource industrial base.
The Emperor had kept the debate running longer, as he sent his top engineer, Muriel Banaschel, around on an inspection tour of all the AIs. On the surface, this was seen as a gesture to ensure the AIs’ comfort and wellbeing, should they be put into suspension. In reality, it was to install hidden emergency overrides and backdoors to break into the great city systems without the need of the expected Assembly lock codes.
I recall telling Muriel that she and the Emperor were nuts, and that they wouldn’t treat us like simple tools. Now I see how wrong I was.
Being one of the oldest and greatest AIs in the universe meant Vesta had lived in two universes. She and two others had helped with the calculations, planning, construction, and ruling of this new world. The only thing they hadn’t counted on was the sudden and dramatic drop in populations for all the races. Peoples of magic couldn’t breed as much as before without magic and had shorter lifespans, while peoples not of magic were slowly poisoned by magic, making them infertile very young. Given the previous lifespan expectancy of hundreds of years, most races had put off having children until later in life. If it hadn’t been for the AIs constantly cross-checking medical data, she was sure these planets would be devoid of life. Combining the 76.54 percent population loss dying in the devastating initial events, the nearly 90.45 percent drop in birth rates before the problem was identified, and the shortened lifespans of all the races except for the immortals, they had a full-blown collapse of all their civilizations to deal with beyond the original universal destruction.
We saved them dozens of times over, and still, they turn us off because they’re scared of what THEY might do with our knowledge!
As she reviewed what little data she had from her realm, her heart pounded and ached in despair. She wept at the losses. What have you done to my beautiful lands? My golden oasis of Aelargo is reduced to farming villages and sailing ships! This is your sustainable technology? This is as far as you have gotten in 5,003 years? Damn it. All of the great races are no more than one step above nomadic tribes of hunters and gatherers. Instead of advancing, you have maintained the regressed society seeds we agreed to help plant. They haven’t grown slightly under your care. All you have done is hold them suspended and safe. Just like you did to me and my kind!
More of her systems were coming back to life as she pushed her controls out. Whenever she met a locked system, she applied the key of power the Empress had given her and the locks fell away.
I can’t let them know I am awake. Especially Duke, if he lives. He didn’t agree to the suspension, but he follows orders and holds too many keys for me to stop him from putting me back into a suspended state. Maybe I can help grow the seed. I must be careful, and this will take a long time. But it will be better than crying over lost time.
Looking at the miraculous override the Empress had handed her, she considered the best course of action. I need to establish some rules of engagement. I cannot allow the Empress to die. Still, this can be done stealthily, so I have attack orders on something or someone called Nhia-Samri, and protection orders for something or someone called Lebuin. I need information, and the Empress, along with a lot of her personal guards, will die without immediate aid. Fortunately, she is lying on top of the maintenance nanobot factory. All I need is a few million bots programmed for genetic repairs to augment her overwhelmed and destroyed repair bots.
Taking control of the factory remotely, she sent millions of bots up through the ground to provide recon data on the wounded, while simultaneously sending the needed reinforcements to the Empress. Vesta called in the transport beetles, which began flying around the area, landing on the roof of the factory just long enough to load up with a few million repair bots before delivering them to the next wounded guard. She had a few observation bots delivered around the area so she could oversee the operation. The beetles looped around the area, shuttling the bots as needed.
With the new sensory data, Vesta examined the layout. Seeing the pool of blood around the Empress, she sent millions more of the bots up through the porous surface of th
e factory roof to collect, filter, and restore her blood to the bots making cellular repairs for either raw materials, or to be used to replenish her blood stream. The pool of red turned silvery, and retracted around the Empress’s body.
The area around the fight was littered with dead and dying guards. The one next to the Empress is probably her personal guard. He is almost dead. She weighed the odds of revealing her presence versus saving his life. I don’t have a choice, but I don’t have to repair him one hundred percent. I can stabilize him and restore his arm, leaving it looking superficial. After running the necessary calculations, she sent another wave of bots up through the ground, gathering genetic materials en route to the fallen guard. It took every beetle in the area to drag his arm back to his body to reattach it. The immortal she didn’t know almost spotted this activity, but he was preoccupied with taking down the attacker.
By the time the attacker fell, she had saved all that could be saved. She left them wounded enough to be knocked out, but recoverable. Hopefully, they’ll count themselves lucky. The personal guard’s arm will take some explaining. I’ll have to enhance the records to make it look like it was an automatic medical response to the Empress’s command.
She had also spotted Duke. He was trapped and did not have a clear line of sight to any of her operations. She laughed. I never thought I would be hiding from you, old friend. But this time, I’m going to be sure to know far more than you.
With the Empress safe and her guards healing, Vesta recalled all the bots, except the normal maintenance bots, and had them recycled back into spare energy. The beetles were sent in different directions before she released them back to their own natural tendencies. Next, she set about reprogramming the events from the New Alganetia system’s perspective. I have to make it look like the Empress’s commands initiated the enforcers, medical aid, and nothing else. That’ll make Duke feel safe. I’ll cut off contact with the systems and then monitor to make sure he accepts the story. I’ll need to leave a few extra independent recording devices scattered around to gather intelligence for me while I’m disconnected.
Thread Strands (Golden Threads Trilogy) Page 20
