He chuckled. “It’s Mijistra. How could it be dangerous?”
She tossed her long hair. “Nevertheless, I will escort you. What is your destination?”
“The human district. Join us for a cup of coffee.” Since she seemed stuck on the idea, Anton didn’t argue, but let her lead the way. “We’re searching for any tidbit, but since the Saga of Seven Suns is over a billion lines long and the lost documents are at least ten times that—finding a relevant passage is an extraordinary task.”
Yazra’h did not seem to envy his work. “That is a battle you must win for yourself, Rememberer Anton. Have you learned how I can fight the Shana Rei?”
“I’m looking for how the Solar Navy and the Confederation Defense Forces can fight them. Adar Zan’nh and the CDF are about to engage in more war-game exercises, but I doubt their traditional maneuvers will be useful against the creatures of darkness. First I have to separate the legends from the genuine historical events. By all accounts, the Shana Rei are fearsome opponents.”
She gave a gruff nod. “Then I look forward to fighting them.”
When they reached the section of the city settled by human expatriates, Anton smiled at the familiar architecture, the open shops, and the business banners, and the outdoor tables. It reminded him of the university district on Earth where he had spent so many years.
He heard music from some kind of old-fashioned instrument, pleasant tones played by someone who knew what he was doing. A middle-aged couple displayed ornamental clay pots they had glazed themselves. Another craft shop offered yarn soul-catchers strung with sparkling crystals. The milieu itself was enough to reenergize Anton after his long hours in the Hall of Rememberers. Then he smelled the coffee—a rich, roasted essence that was unlike any traditional Ildiran beverage. It was so strong that even the aroma seemed to contain caffeine.
He claimed an outdoor table and yanked out chairs for his two companions. A fascinated Dyvo’sh continued looking around, particularly interested in the soul-catchers. He tapped one with a finger, and the inset crystal caught the light as it rotated.
When the café owner came out, Anton greeted her with a grin. “Large coffee for me, please, with a dollop of cream. My friends will each have one, too.”
Dyvo’sh took a seat next to him, copying Anton’s every move, like an apprentice. Yazra’h remained standing until Anton insisted that she take a seat.
The café owner was a Rubenesque woman with cool blue eyes and curly ash-blond hair. “I’ll brew it fresh,” she said. They were apparently the only customers in the district. She glanced at Yazra’h and Dyvo’sh. “I’ll bring some condensed milk as well. Ildirans tend to like it sweet.”
When she delivered the coffee, Anton wrapped both hands around his cup, savoring the smell before he sipped and let out a sigh. Dyvo’sh mimicked his every move, took a sip, and struggled to control his grimace.
Yazra’h was brave and took a gulp, but the coffee didn’t appeal to her either. “It is potent,” was the best she could say.
Anton looked around the empty café. “Not many customers? I suppose Ildirans don’t come back for coffee once they’ve tried it.”
“We’re all hurting,” said the café owner. She glanced around. Several blocks away, the streets of Mijistra were filled with bustling Ildirans, but the human district seemed isolated, as if shunned. “The Mage-Imperator visited not long ago, encouraged Ildirans to do business with us—and that lasted for about a day.”
The art gallery owner came over and took an empty seat beside them. “It wasn’t always like that. We were at least curiosities, but something’s changed.”
Anton took another sip of his coffee and made up his mind to come back here as often as possible. “Why would customers avoid the whole district?”
“Nobody knows. Maybe we did something to insult them.” The café owner brought him a refill. Dyvo’sh and Yazra’h did not need one. Dyvo’sh added some sweetened condensed milk at the woman’s suggestion, and he seemed to tolerate it better.
Anton recalled how he had suffered censure from the Ildirans years ago when he pointed out errors in the Saga of Seven Suns. “With all the new archive crypts being opened and mountains of new documents revealed, there’ll surely be more turmoil.”
Yazra’h frowned. “The turmoil is not caused by the human enclave.”
“Well, Ildirans shouldn’t be afraid of what the rememberers find—we’re just making the history accurate.”
“They are not afraid of the history,” Yazra’h said. “It is the Shana Rei. They fear the shadows are coming again.”
Dyvos’h seemed very nervous. “Perhaps it would have been best if all those stories remained hidden. Then the Shana Rei might not have returned.”
Anton scoffed. “It has nothing to do with cause and effect. You shouldn’t fear reading old records.”
“They are the darkness,” Dyvo’sh said. “Of course, we fear them.”
Anton had never understood the irrational Ildiran fear of the dark, but it was an integral (perhaps even pathological) part of their being. Yazra’h, who was one of the bravest people he had ever met, shook her head. “Even though Ildirans are surrounded by light, we understand the power of dark, and we know that its tendrils can slip in anywhere.”
She defiantly finished her coffee, as if going to battle against the taste. “If the Shana Rei have indeed returned, we must know how to fight them. Sun bombs? Then we must build them! It will not be a traditional military effort. The creatures of darkness can strike everywhere and at any time.” Then she looked at him with absolute confidence. “You will help us understand, Rememberer Anton.”
Anton could see that Yazra’h was deadly serious. He sipped his coffee again, but it had gone cold.
SEVENTY-SEVEN
EXXOS
The shadow cloud appeared in the dusty skies of Eljiid, roiling out of the vacuum like smoke burning through the fabric of space.
Because they were not part of the same universe and did not follow the same physical rules, the shadow clouds could creep like spiders through the back alleys of the cosmos, slipping through cracks created by the minds of living things—fears, doubts, pain.
To Exxos, this was merely an unimportant Klikiss world, but one that would serve the black robots’ purposes. And it was a place to start, an appropriate demonstration. Working with the Shana Rei, the robots would wreak great havoc, cause destruction, increase entropy . . . decrease the shadows’ pain.
He was surprised, but not disappointed, to discover that a small group of humans had established a settlement there—not a full colony, just a research group studying the old Klikiss ruins like carrion birds sampling a corpse. That was even better; human treachery had caused the near extinction of the robots, and Exxos hated them almost as much as he and his comrades hated their creator race. Almost as much.
When the ominous dark nebula arrived over the Eljiid settlement, the humans began transmitting frantic signals: first inquiries, then indignant demands, followed by pleas for mercy, and finally an unasked-for surrender. Exxos listened to it all but did not respond. The Shana Rei did not care, were content to absorb the confusion and growing dread.
Exxos and his robots moved about in ships made from new matter the Shana Rei had manifested, simply rearranging energy in the universe to create what was necessary. When insisting on his plan to demonstrate their destructive prowess here, Exxos had convinced the shadow creatures to recreate the six vessels his comrades had built at the Dhula moon—along with certain improvements.
He had studied the Shana Rei enough to understand a few basics. Creating went against their fundamental nature, and only seemed to make the creatures of darkness more irrational and incomprehensible, but Exxos persuaded them to fight against their instincts. A temporary expenditure of entropy here for a larger benefit soon. He was glad to have warships again, and he knew he could cause satisfying damage to Eljiid. He would make sure the Shana Rei valued the exchange, and would agree to do it
again when he suggested it elsewhere.
It meant the creatures of darkness had been intrigued enough by his bluff that they would keep the robots alive . . . for now.
As the shadow cloud grew larger overhead, the Shana Rei manifested their own huge battleships, despite the terrible pain it caused them. The dark nebula opened like a midnight flower, and Shana Rei ships emerged into real space: ebony hexagonal cylinders, long rods with flat sides and sharp angles. The creatures screamed into the silence and suffered the act of creation, doing as Exxos told them. Three of the hexagon ships were sufficient for a relatively minor target such as Eljiid.
By comparison, the black robot warships looked like little more than gnats, but Exxos and his robots raced out to begin the attack on Eljiid. He was eager to prove that the robots were worthy, valuable allies. Together, they could erase all the annoyances of sentient life here . . . and, eventually, everywhere else.
The screaming of the Shana Rei grew louder, and Exxos knew he had to strike swiftly. The creatures of darkness wanted to snap back into the void, where they could recover from the agony they had inflicted upon themselves.
The black robot ships swooped down, strafing the human camp with energy weapons, ripping up tents and settlement modules. Some researchers ran scrambling toward the Klikiss transportal, hoping to activate the stone wall and escape through the gateway back to Rheindic Co. But they didn’t have the opportunity.
The robots bombarded the area until it was a glassy molten field. The transportal itself was more durable and required six overflights and heavy blasts before the trapezoidal wall came down as well. No one would be able to depart from Eljiid now.
Exxos took pride in showing the Shana Rei what his robots could do, and the creatures of darkness were satisfied to eliminate even this small cluster of intelligent life, which eased the clamor in the universe by a small degree.
Although the Shana Rei cooperated, they considered this an insignificant part of the battle. They were aware of an even more titanic sentience that terrified them, made them feel helpless, but Exxos didn’t understand it. The shadow creatures claimed something tremendously powerful was awakening in the cosmos. It had maddened and provoked the Shana Rei, driving them out of hiding. Whatever it was, Exxos felt sure he could help them destroy it . . . or at least he and his robots could survive until the Shana Rei themselves were destroyed. If the tides of battle shifted, maybe the robots would find a way to ally themselves with this powerful new force. Exxos would keep his plans flexible.
The Shana Rei were chaos incarnate, violent but disorganized, and could not develop long-term plans. Exxos, though, could create much more intricate schemes, look at an overall strategy. He had convinced the Shana Rei to fear, or at least respect, the robots. While drifting in the black void, Exxos had proposed grand schemes, extolling how his robots could assist the shadow creatures in obliterating life. He made up more extravagant lies.
And the Shana Rei believed him, for now.
When their initial annihilation was finished, the robot ships landed in the smoking ruins of the research camp. Exxos and his comrades filed out, scuttling forward on clusters of fingerlike legs. They inspected the charred bodies of the human colonists and used metallic pincers to tear apart a few who still groaned and tried to crawl away. Exxos declared the settlement lifeless before he and his robots moved toward the abandoned Klikiss city to finish their work.
A thick briarpatch of Whistler cactus had grown up around the base of the ruins, and the hollow thorny growths moaned and hummed, as if the smoking devastation had changed their tune. When the robots set fire to the Whistler grove, the roaring flames and rising heat made the fluting sounds even more shrill. The Shana Rei seemed even more pleased when the Whistlers fell silent.
Exxos and his companions entered the ruined city. Millennia ago, when the Klikiss had created their sophisticated robots, they gave them personalities, emotions; they also designed the robots to feel pain, weakness, and defeat—simply so the malicious Klikiss could torment them. How could the insect race have been surprised when their own robots turned on them?
Now, when Exxos came upon the numerous mummified bodies left behind in the final swarming, the black robots remembered the awful tortures that had been inflicted upon them. Unified in their rage, they fell upon the Klikiss corpses and tore them to pieces with snapping pincer claws.
The violence did little to salve their hatred, and the mutilation seemed petty when compared with the grand cosmic plans of the Shana Rei to eradicate all sentient life. Exxos was pleased nevertheless. After destroying the Klikiss towers, the black robots flew away into the greasy smoke that rose from the Whistler grove and the blackened human settlement.
The ships returned to the simmering shadow cloud and rejoined the enormous hex ships, which withdrew into the swirling nebula. As the Shana Rei erased their newly manifested ships from existence, uncreating the raw matter, their own pain decreased.
When the shadow cloud departed from Eljiid, it left a very quiet place in its wake.
SEVENTY-EIGHT
OSIRA’H
Even though Osira’h and her siblings could not feel the same affinity with the worldforest as a green priest did, they knew their mother took great solace among the trees. Because Nira longed to help poor Gale’nh, she asked him to meet her in the lush greenhouse on top of the Prism Palace. She wanted to see if the verdani could help.
Osira’h accompanied her brother, leading him up the glowing corridors to the rooftop. Gale’nh seemed so empty and fragile, as if the depths of the shadow remained inside him. Osira’h shared her own thoughts with her brother, whatever energy she could dredge up from her mind, but Gale’nh’s close connection with his halfbreed siblings had been damaged. Nevertheless, alone he had found an inner strength, a way of propping himself up so that he could move through the days.
The grove of tall worldtrees in the rooftop garden stood invigorated by the seven Ildiran suns. The treelings, planted there many years ago, now served as the point of contact for green priests with the rest of the Spiral Arm. The worldtree fronds whispered together.
Nira waited for them by the trees, her skin a bright, rich green. She smiled, but Osira’h could see the concern hidden just beneath the expression. Her fingertips touched the gold-scaled bark of the nearest tree. Nira closed her eyes briefly and let her thoughts flow into the verdani mind, then she sighed and reached out to take Gale’nh’s hand, drawing him close, as if completing a circuit.
“I will help you in any way I can,” she said.
Gale’nh held her hand, but remained unmoved, clearly feeling nothing from the green priest’s contact. “If I knew a way you could help, Mother, I would accept it.” He released her grip, ran his own hand over the trunk of the tree, but he didn’t seem to find what he was looking for.
Osira’h took her brother’s hand and grasped her mother’s, trying harder. As she concentrated, she did feel the innate power of the worldtrees, a presence that connected the vast forest across the entire Spiral Arm.
“Sometimes we can share strength,” Gale’nh said, “and sometimes we’re all alone. I was there all alone aboard the Kolpraxa. My entire crew included hundreds of Ildirans woven together with their thism—but that didn’t give them enough strength to stand against the shadow cloud.”
His entire body shuddered. Osira’h squeezed his hand harder. Nira’s eyes widened as if she caught a hint of what he was seeing inside his mind.
“The blackness didn’t understand us either,” Gale’nh continued, as if the memories were growing sharper in his mind. “It engulfed us, devoured us—and found all of my crew wanting. I watched Rememberer Ko’sh standing in terror, shouting that it was the Shana Rei. He raised his fist, howled for them to go back to the void—and then he disappeared. Uncreated.” His voice hitched. “I used everything I had, gathering those closest to me. I tried to protect them, tried to hold on to them, but I felt them fade, as if they were bled down to nothing.” He blink
ed at Nira. “I want to say that I was stronger than the others, Mother . . . but I think I was just different. I could feel the thism being torn up all around me. The mental threads snapped. There was nothing I could do.” He hung his head.
“You survived,” Nira said. “You came back to us. You’re still here.”
Osira’h added her encouragement as well. “You’re the only one who has touched the Shana Rei. You’ll remember something. You know something.”
Gale’nh shook his head. “What if I brought back some residue with me? When Rememberer Ko’sh told the stories, I thought he was just trying to frighten my crew, but maybe he wanted to prepare them for what was out there. He couldn’t prepare them enough.”
Neither Osira’h nor Nira had an answer for him.
“While I was alone in the dark on the Kolpraxa, swallowed up by that suffocating nothingness, I remembered the planet Orryx and Tal Bria’nh.” He turned his reddened gaze to his sister. “Now I know the story is true.”
“Orryx?” Nira asked.
Osira’h said, “It was the first Ildiran planet to succumb to the Shana Rei, ages ago, a fertile place with a strong population, but the Shana Rei spread out from dark nebulae and covered the entire planet with a black shroud that absorbed all light. When Mage-Imperator Xiba’h sensed Orryx being engulfed, he rushed a septa of warliners to fight for them.”
Gale’nh interrupted his sister’s story. “They vanished into the blackness.”
“The Mage-Imperator commanded his engineers and scientists to develop new weapons. A brave military commander named Tal Bria’nh rushed to Orryx with even more warliners and a hundred new sun bombs, which produced as much purifying brightness as a star. They burned the Shana Rei like acid, searing away the black shroud that surrounded the planet, but even the light from a hundred sun bombs eventually dwindled. The Shana Rei attacked again. They swallowed up Tal Bria’nh’s entire cohort, painted the whole world black.
The Dark Between the Stars Page 39
