Land of the Dead

Aboard the Naniwa in company of the Pilgrim and her support flotilla

Chu-sa Kosho nodded in greeting to the two Imperial marines standing watch outside medbay pod twenty-seven, and then stepped inside without a pause, followed by Kikan-shi Helsdon. The pressurized door whispered shut behind them and Susan paused a moment, letting the portal seal, before turning around, hands clasped behind her back. The Naniwa ’s commander looked civilized again-she’d had a shower, been out of her z-armor for nearly a day, and gotten a few hours of sleep. Helsdon, now sitting nervously in a corner chair, looked little different than usual. The engineering teams had been working around the clock to repair secondary hull damage and return normal living conditions to the hab rings and command compartments.

“Anderssen- tzin, good afternoon.”

Gretchen looked up from her field comp, face mottled with bruises, her tangled blond hair tied back in a ponytail. Her bare arms and neck were shining with quickheal, and her ruined civilian z-armor had been replaced by a matte black Fleet skinsuit while she remained in medbay. She was sitting on a bed of crates, spare insulation, and blankets-the regular pod bed had been moved somewhere else. A portable lamp hung from the ceiling, shedding a bluish-white glow. On her field comp’s screen, a relayed feed from the main navigational array was unspooling, showing the singularity and its attendant stars. The icon of the Sunflower was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s gone.” The Swedish woman set the comp down, shoulders slumping in weariness. “Dragged down by irresistible gravity. The last sanctuary of the Vay’en is no more.”

Kosho glanced to Helsdon, who shook his head in ignorance. The Nisei woman pursed her lips, frowned once, and then tilted her head questioningly at the xenoarchaeologist.

“I do not know who these Vahyyyen might be, but I am very interested in determining what happened to Prince Xochitl and Ambassador Sahane. Can you tell me?”

“Oh,” Anderssen blinked, and then rubbed her face, trying to remember. “I had forgotten all about the two boys… they are dead, Captain. One of the Templars shot Xochitl in the face with an assault rifle, and Sahane-well, he was burned alive by a plasma burst and then cut in half. Old Crow, he-” She nodded to herself, feeling light-headed. “He was shot, then stabbed, and then fell down a very, very deep pit. But-but I could not say for certain he perished, not being able to see the bottom of that pit. It was quite deep.”

Susan’s expression congealed into a cold, immobile mask. “My marines found you drifting on a jury-rigged grav-sled outside the artifact, Doctor Anderssen, in the company of a half-dead, blinded Jaguar Knight who had been Cuauhhuehueh of the Prince’s guard detachment. The ship Xochitl commandeered-the Moulins -has disappeared. Do you know what happened to the freighter?”

Gretchen shrugged. “One of the Templars survived the melee with the Prince and his men. He must have taken it out of the landing cradle-she was gone when Koris and I reached the garbage disposal port.”

“I see.” Kosho’s jaw tightened in frustration. “Do you know how the freighter avoided our notice-assuming the ship left the vicinity of the Chimalacatl and boosted outbound, to join the rest of the Templar battle-group? Helsdon here and my techs have gone over the sensor logs at least three times-finding nothing.”

“It was a military ship,” Anderssen offered. “Disguised as a freighter. But the crewmen were all Order Knights and they were using-at the end-powered armor and modern weapons. Better than the Prince’s men had, from what I saw.”

Susan looked to Helsdon, clicking her teeth. “Then the Moulins could have been equipped with the same stealthing technology the Pilgrim ’s fighters were showing off against the Khaid.”

“No reason,” the engineer coughed, covering his mouth, “to believe otherwise, kyo.”

“Why are you asking me, Captain?” Anderssen was watching them both with an odd, distant expression. “I’m just an archaeologist caught up in something far, far bigger than she expected.”

“I need any information you can give me, Doctor, because I’m beginning to wonder if we will be allowed to leave this place.” The Nisei officer indicated the ship, the rosette, the universe with an encompassing wave of her hand. “I know these things: that my ship is alone, wounded and in desperate need of resupply. A presumably friendly fleet-including a strike carrier easily the size of the Tlemitl -has come to our aid, is providing medical assistance, and has sent across dozens of wounded rescued from other Fleet ships lost in the recent series of battles. But at the same time, you tell me that Knights of the Temple have murdered an Imperial Prince, the ambassador of a friendly realm, and also an Imperial Judge, and… I wonder if we are next, if the Knights decide to clean up this little mess before they go on their way.”

“Oh.” Gretchen leaned her head on one hand, eyes half closed. “That is a problem, I guess.”

“It could be… serious.” Kosho stood beside the bed, her attention fully upon the Swedish woman. “You came here with Hummingbird. I know he was at the center of all this. I have a horrible suspicion that he arranged all of this. But I do not know why-and I hope that you will tell me, for the sake of my crew, if not out of courtesy to me.”

Anderssen regarded Susan sidelong, her expression still and distant for nearly a minute. Then she lifted her head, attention returning to the present, and she looked at Kosho with great curiosity. “Captain, do you remember that this is the third time our paths have crossed? Each time, great events have been in play-at Ephesus III, on Jagan, and now here… I wonder, is Chu-sa Hadeishi here as well? I know you’ve your own ship now, but-”

“He is.” Kosho’s stoic expression was suddenly and subtly transformed, cycling from glad relief to concern to suspicion and then grim certainty. “He is here. Hummingbird brought him here. Hummingbird brought me here, and the Prince, and-what in the Nine Hells was he doing? What were you doing with him?”

“Do you really want to know?” Gretchen spread her hands. “You will find no ease to your worries!”

“Tell me.” Susan’s voice sounded stretched and brittle.

“The Crow found me on New Aberdeen,” Anderssen said, “and he needed help with something beyond his ‘capacity to evaluate.’ I thought he needed my technical skills as a xenoarchaeologist-but that was a gravely incorrect assumption. He never said-he never does, you know?-what he expected me to do.”

“And you just came when he beckoned?” Kosho sounded disgusted.

Gretchen shook her head, all expression draining from her tired face. “No. I had been waiting for him, or someone like him, to come nosing around. After everything that happened on Jagan, when I came home empty-handed, without a bonus check from the Company, I found that my boy Duncan had been killed while working on a trawler in the Northern Cape Sea. That-”

She stopped, her attention suddenly far away from the medbay and the two officers. Susan waited, watching the subtle play of emotions on the blond woman’s face, until Helsdon stirred, looking at his commander beseechingly.

“Anderssen- tzin, we don’t have much time. Please tell us what the Hummingbird was doing here.”

“Oh.” Gretchen shook herself, grinding the heel of one palm into her left eye. “I have a recording, I think. My suit comm was on when he told me. You can hear it from his own lips.”

She tapped up a sequence on her field comp, and then slid the volume to three-quarters. The sound of static and harsh breathing filled the little room, and then the old Nahuatl was saying:… the annihilation of the Prince, the Khaid, even the poor Ambassador and my own life in the bargain. A clean set of books-nothing falling into the Emperor’s hands to upset the balance at home-and time. Time we desperately need.

The recording stopped and Anderssen made a face. “We came here in little tramp freighters and mail-boats before the Moulins, which seemed like more of the same. Hummingbird didn’t have anything on his side but some fancy comps in a case, me-for whatever I was worth-and his own invincible self assurance. Do you hear him? He was hurt when he said that, and afraid-not of dying, no, but of failing at the task he’d taken upon himself.”

She stopped, running her finger across the navigational display. The Chimalacatl was already gone, torn to shreds as it fell. Comp projections showed the delicate balance holding all three of the brown dwarves was beginning to fail. In a hundred years, or a thousand, the entire rosette would succumb to the black hole and obliterate all traces of the Vay’en and their works.

“I thought,” Gretchen continued, “when I sent them down into oblivion, that I defeated him. But listening to his voice now, I think I did exactly what he wanted… even better than he could have managed himself.”

Susan made a soft, strangled sound. “He wanted the Sunflower destroyed?”

“More than that,” Gretchen replied. “He needed-or the Judges needed-to ensure that not only was the artifact obliterated-but everyone who had come seeking its power was slain, denied, or convinced it did not exist. The Prince is dead, the Khaid massacred, the Order Knights left with empty hands… we are witnesses to the immolation of the evidence. The nav plot shows that the entire Barrier will be swallowed up in time, pulled into the black sack and made to vanish.”

She laughed nervously. “Only three people remain who saw the heart of the structure, who know what happened there-me and an Order Knight who escaped, the one who departed in the Moulins. He will certainly carry the news to his masters-and I wonder how they will react?”

“They came well equipped,” Kosho admitted grudgingly. “The Pilgrim is the core of a full-scale squadron and seems more than capable of mopping up the leftovers of our ill-fated expedition. If we’re on the books to be marked off-we won’t last long.”

“If you give me to them, they will let you go.” Gretchen’s statement carried an odd weight of certainty. “I think they are very keen to know the fate of the Vay’en, and the Chimalacatl, and what transpired within.”

“That seems, to me, Doctor Anderssen, an excellent reason not to put you into their hands.” Susan offered a tight, bitter smile. “I am still an officer of the Fleet and the Emperor’s servant. If we escape, then duty requires that I report what transpired in this benighted place. It seems unwise to leave all of the witnesses in the hands of the Temple. But what becomes of you after we return-I cannot say.”

“It does not matter.” Gretchen’s expression was bleak. “I’ve done all I can. Like Hummingbird, my death or disappearance evens the books, leaving almost no trace of our passing.”

“Untrue.” Kosho lifted her chin, indicating the icons of the Templar ships on the plot. “They are still here-they have possession-but what do they gain from all this, Doctor? Are they now an enemy of the Empire?”

“No.” Anderssen scratched the back of her head, where a sore had developed from wearing her helmet so long. “They came seeking to ally themselves with something-with someone-they thought remained in this funereal place. Hummingbird alluded to needing time. He believed-and the Templars believe-some enormous calamity is fast approaching. One which we-humanity-cannot withstand without the assistance of the kind of powers which once dwelt here.”

Helsdon stiffened in his chair, fear stark in his features. “My God, woman, this place was built by a race with the power of the Gods! We won’t have this level of technology for thousands of years!”

Susan nodded in agreement, her complexion growing waxy. “Do you know what they fear? Do the Templars?”

“They believe they know.” Gretchen smiled sadly. “I do not. But I can tell you the Order Knights are being used, as you and I were used by Hummingbird, by another agent-another puppet master hiding in the wings, out of our sight. This seems to me a skirmish-an opening move-where greater powers than the Empire are jockeying for position on the field of combat.”

“These Vay’en,” Kosho said, after considering the Swedish woman’s words. “The Templars believed they were still alive, after millions of years? That they could be woken, or summoned? And bargained with?”

Anderssen nodded. “Yes. It is even possible they were right-but none of the Vay’en remained, only their machines and devices. Of course, given the disparity of power between us, I don’t think bargained with would be the appropriate term. Subjecting humanity to slavery and servitude-yes, that would have been the likely outcome.”

Helsdon glanced at Susan, who nodded, wondering what the engineer intended.

“Doctor Anderssen-what happened to disrupt the equilibrium of the system? Did-did you do something?”

Gretchen looked at him, seemingly puzzled, before saying, “Ambassador Sahane attempted to harness the machine. But his exocortex was insufficient to the task. There was an interruption during the process-and what he intended did not come to pass.”

Susan’s forehead creased sharply. “Why was the ambassador here? Did he know something about the artifact? Did his race-these Hjo-know something?”

“ He knew nothing.” Anderssen sighed. “But his race-yes, they had once served the Vay’en-long ago, they were servants, soldiers, bureaucrats… the linchpin of the Vay’en demesne. Like the Prince, like me, his presence had been arranged by those who set all this in motion. Three of us were needed to unlock the mechanism, so three were delivered by Hummingbird.”

Helsdon cursed under his breath, rubbing his palms on his thighs. “The Barrier. The Naniwa and the Moulins could reach the Sunflower because all three of you were aboard!” He laughed, a little hysterically. “All my work to identify the Barrier threads-for nothing! Good thing we didn’t get too close while the security system was still operational!”

“Wait-” Kosho’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “The builders of this place were obviously fond of threes and multiples of three. I can understand the ambassador, if his people had once been the servants of the Vay’en. But how did you and Sayu qualify as keys to the structure? You’re not Hjo!”

“I was.” Anderssen knuckled her brow-line with one fist, feeling an enormous migraine coming on. “Hummingbird had exposed me to that corroded-looking bronze tablet-let me use it as a comp-and the Vay’en ‘instructor’ within began to rewrite my neurology. The tablet led us through the Barrier-you saw the effects as it revised the ship’s interfaces and systems-the same was happening to me, though I didn’t realize it until too late. While I was under its influence, the Chimalacatl treated me as a Hjo as well.”

“And the Prince?”

Gretchen pursed her lips, examining Susan’s face with great care. “Did you care for him?”

“Me? For Sayu?” Kosho looked horrified. “He pursued me, momentarily, at Chapultepec when we were in the lower form. But I was not what he expected, so-nothing came to pass. After that, there was open rivalry between us, and-I must confess-he often came up short.” She paused, remembering. “Later he did better-after third year he seemed to collect himself. Then he was the popular one, the pretty one. Captain of the Ullamaliztli team-everything expected of a scion of the Imperial house.”

Anderssen nodded to herself. “Like me, he had an overlay which allowed him entrance, made him seem enough of a Hjogadim to qualify for the machine. I don’t think he realized, even at the end, why he was here. Whoever sent him must have known what would happen… but you know, Hummingbird was surprised to encounter Xochitl out here. Surprised when the big battleship arrived.” She ran her fingertips along the outside of her field comp. “You said the Crow arranged all of this -but I don’t agree. I think he was trying to manage a situation that kept escalating out of his control. Some of it-yes, he brought me here, he had something to do with the Templars being here-the rest? It seems doubtful.”

“He arranged-he arranged the Khaid.” Helsdon looked more uncomfortable than ever. “We’ve found traces in the comm system of t-relay activity between the Naniwa and the Khaid fleet during the fighting outside the Pinhole.”

“Ah.” Gretchen nodded, remembering. “I helped him assemble a t-relay when we first came aboard.”

“And he arranged for Chu-sa Hadeishi to be here.” Susan’s expression was positively glacial. “Both to further his own ends-and as leverage with me, if needed.”

“Yes.” Anderssen was watching the Nisei officer again and smiling faintly. “I didn’t like the Crow-hate might be too weak a word-but he had something in mind for you, Captain Kosho, and for me as well. You’d served with Hadeishi for a long time, hadn’t you?”

“Five years,” Kosho said grudgingly, regarding the archaeologist with suspicion. “What do you mean- in mind?”

“So you’d seen Hummingbird come and go over those five years, always dropping in unexpectedly, getting your ship and your captain into some kind of dodgy situation? Always on off-the-books business for the Tlamantinime?” Gretchen didn’t wait for a response from Susan. “He had the same pattern in mind for you, and for me. Once you had your own ship-this ship!-you’d be put on frontier duty, patrolling alone at the edge of cultivation-one step out into the darkness-with no support, no backup, and no oversight.”

She paused, running one hand through her tangled, greasy hair. Kosho looked like she’d swallowed a sour pickle. “Where is your political officer, Captain? Where are the Mice? I haven’t seen any-isn’t that very strange?”

“We-” Susan halted, considering. “I had assumed Oc Chac, my new Sho-sa, was the Mirror representative aboard-but you’re right, there should be a whole complement on a ship this size.” She glanced at Helsdon, who had retreated again and was swallowing nervously. “All of the other ships in the squadron were drawn from units tasked to support the Mirror science teams. They would have been crawling with political officers. But not us?”

“You see? The Tlemitl was free of them as well. Hummingbird mentioned at one point-I don’t think he realized I was listening-that the Prince’s ship had entirely new security systems-none like those used by the Judges, or the Mirror. I doubt that would have been allowed if there were proper political officers aboard!

“And after all of this business was done-if you survived-then you’d be sent off on patrol, and then I would be the one dropping in unexpectedly when I needed a ship for some dirty work.”

Kosho grimaced. “You’re one of the Tlamantinime now, are you? I thought there were no female Judges.”

“There aren’t.” Anderssen bit at the edge of her thumb. “But once I heard the Crow and two others talking-a female counterpart to the nauallis exists-and they were pressing to take on a similar role along the frontier. I think that now-driven by fear-the old strictures are breaking down. I think Hummingbird hoped I would become his apprentice-take on his responsibilities-and the two of us would replace him and Hadeishi, if they died or grew too old to act.”

“How interesting.” Susan’s displeasure radiated from her as a sharp, prickly heat. “I have no appetite for his schemes-and now that he’s dead, then all of this can die with him.”

“Can it? If he spoke truly-if the Templars were correct in their belief-then someone must walk the fences, watch in the shadows, do all the things Hummingbird and his brother Judges have been doing.”

Kosho shook her head. “He arranged the deaths of thousands of Fleet crewmen. He, and whoever decided to poke this nest of ants with a stick, and whoever dispatched Sayu to his death. Do you want that kind of hideous karma upon your soul?”

“No.” Gretchen’s voice faltered. “It’s already cost me my boy. A wise woman once said-almost immediately after meeting the Crow-that he stank of ‘broken shells and ash.’ She was right-he would not hesitate to sacrifice a fleet, a planet, even a whole species to achieve the ends he thought necessary. But I begin to perceive there are other players in the game, perhaps those on the very summit of the Heavenly Mountain, who will sacrifice even more to win, or just survive.”

She tapped the navigational plot. “Alliance with the Vay’en would have cost us our humanity. Even if our bodies endured-they would have been no more than husks filled with a living flame-and every human being alive would have been their slave. Yet someone, somewhere, believes it was absolutely necessary to do so.”

“This implies the annihilation of our species at the hands of this unknown threat is the alternative.” Susan flexed her hands angrily. “One of the first lectures Chapultepec beats into the heads of the lower form is that the realm of the Mexica, for all its power, pomp, and majesty, is a tiny principality in a galaxy filled with mammoth empires. It is easy to forget that we are weak and ill-regarded.” She laughed bitterly. “They do not tell you, however, anything about these great powers… that is ring-zero information. Only the Emperors will know how low on the mountain we truly are.”

“Hummingbird implied the same to me, when first we met.” Anderssen closed her field comp. “When you work for the Honorable Company, it’s very clear your purpose is to poke and pry and dig in the dead cities and ruined worlds, not for scientific benefit, but for tools-weapons-knowledge from the ancients that will benefit the Empire. Make it stronger, make it more powerful. Climb another step on that mountain…” She sighed, shaking her head. “The Mirror was trying the same thing here. They found something and wondered if it could make them great-but they were only a cat’s paw. The Templars came prepared. Hummingbird came prepared. Even Xochitl was sent by someone who knew what was here already.”

“What about the Khaid?” Helsdon ventured. “Why bring them into the equation?”

“The Judges-or Hummingbird-must have decided that the Mirror fleet had to be destroyed. And they didn’t know the Order was also in play with a powerful fleet.” Gretchen smiled ruefully at Kosho. “He had great faith in you, Captain, expecting you and your ship to survive when everyone else was slated to die. The arrival of the Tlemitl threw all of those plans into question-he was almost frantic when the Prince arrived.”

“And the Knights of the Temple,” Susan said, her lip curling in distaste, “stood by waiting to clean up the survivors-on either side!-and take the prize.”

“And now they have it.” Helsdon’s pale face was drawn with worry. “ Chu-sa, we’re not ready to fight or even run. Perhaps-perhaps we should give her over, if that will obtain our safe passage?”

Gretchen nodded in agreement, but Kosho’s expression turned obstinate. “She’s all we have for a bargaining chip-I’m not going to offer her to anyone.” She raised a slim hand to forestall Anderssen’s rejoinder. “Consider this as well-at least three Imperial factions were involved here-the Mirror, the Judges, and presumably the Emperor himself-who else could have dispatched Sayu with a newly minted super-dreadnaught? It is very likely the Knights are also divided amongst themselves-if not, why send some of their agents in secret, and others arrive with such overwhelming force as to seize the prize openly? Also weigh that they have not attacked us, though at least a day has passed since the missing Templar from the Sunflower should have reached the Pilgrim.”

This gave Gretchen pause, and she settled back, searching her memories. “That is… possible. Hummingbird had not intended to reach this place aboard the Moulins -we were supposed to meet another ship-one carrying an ally, he said-but the Khaid had intercepted them. I think-I got the impression we were going to meet Captain Hadeishi on that other ship. And he’s here, now, right?”

“Yes.” Susan nodded, her eyes dark. “I’ve been told he is aboard the Pilgrim. They took him aboard, along with many survivors from the Imperial ships destroyed outside the Pinhole. I’ve spoken with one of his officers-a Mirror technician, actually-who was brought over from their medbay. He was on a ship called the Wilful, commanded by a woman Sencho named De Molay.”

“Really? How curious…” Anderssen opened her field comp again. “Yes-I thought that sounded familiar. A famous Templar surname, actually. So two Templar spy-ships-and a fleet to back them up-but maybe only one of the freighters was intended to be here. The other-the crewmen on the Wilful -they had an insignia, a tattoo actually, of a-ah, here it is: the Croix recroisetee au pied fiche, in crimson on a white field.”

She turned the comp so Kosho and Helsdon could see a cross composed of three smaller squared crosses-for the crossbar and crown-then the long end of the cross was more like a spike, or spear, pointing downward.

“Striking,” Susan commented, “but not the insignia of the Knights of the Order. They bear a cross with equal arms and rounded ends, fit to a circle, not a rectangle.”

“This one,” Gretchen said, tapping up a second image, which matched the Nisei officer’s description.

“So there are your two factions, Chu-sa.” Anderssen shrugged again. “Probably representing a political split within the Temple hierarchy; each espousing the same goals, I’m sure, but embracing markedly different means to reach the end.” She tapped the croix fiche . “Three crosses, each composed of three arms, surmounting a spear. I-I saw something like that when I was aboard the Moulins. The sense of it was a warrior brotherhood, standing watch on the edge of infinity, much like the Judges…”

“Three of three?” Helsdon blinked. “Like the patterns on the surface of the Chimalacatl?”

“Aping the Vay’en and their symbology.” Gretchen scowled. “The Hjogadim were the same way, thinking the oversize robes and scepter of their overlords would grant them the power of Lord Serpent! Fools. The strength of the Vay’en was-is-beyond our ability to grasp.” She laughed harshly, thinking of the hundreds of thousands of Hjo corpses desiccating in the garbage disposal chutes throughout the massive artifact. “The same fate awaits us-our puny little principality-if the great houses, the Emperor and the Order all fall out amongst one another over the prize. It is better the Sunflower is gone-safer by far for everyone. Much better.”

Hearing a change in the Swedish woman’s voice, Kosho’s jaw tightened and she glanced sideways at Helsdon. The engineer was watching Gretchen as well, and the same dawning suspicion was showing in his face. “You destroyed the artifact, Doctor? You-what did you do?”

“And why? Just to protect humanity from some hypothetical civil war?” Susan seemed genuinely curious. “Are you certain such a fate would befall us?”

“Look around you, Captain!” Gretchen rang her knuckles on the damaged wall beside her. “An Imperial Judge betrayed the Prince’s expedition to the barbarians! Just to keep the Emperor’s hand from the hilt of this infernal blade! The unity of the Temple is already divided, one faction intriguing against the other-and it will not end here, no-it will not end until Anahuac is a burning ruin and all our colonies and settlements are laid waste.” Her voice had gained a harsh, hectoring edge. “Because even should we seize this power for ourselves and learn its use- others will come which we cannot withstand, even with this weapon! Remember the lesson from the Hill of Grasshoppers!”

The Swedish woman winced, feeling her bruised torso twinge. Angrily, she stabbed at the field comp with her stylus, invoking a projected image of the rosette-the three brown dwarves, the distant demarcation of the Barrier, the singularity-then she cupped the holo in her hands. “The Vay’en assembled this. They dragged these suns into position, spun up a black hole of their own, wrapped in the wall of knives-everything within ten light-years is here by the will of Lord Serpent, who perished nearly a million years ago!” She caught Kosho’s eye with a piercing, exasperated glare-then jabbed a finger at Helsdon. “We can barely perceive their works with our instrumentality-and you expect the Mirror, or the Fleet, to grasp their technology?”

“In time.” Susan lifted her hands, conceding the point. “But what else can we do? Even if we are beneath the notice of these great powers, that must surely change. When that black day comes, we’d be remiss in all duty if we had not prepared as best we could. Even to the point of waking-as you say-a power like the Vay’en and seeking their alliance.”

“Foolish. Very foolish.” Gretchen buried her head in both hands. “At least this temptation is banished-none of the sleepers will return from the pit.” She made a casting-away motion. “The balance in the system has been destroyed. Structures you cannot perceive have descended deep into slow-time, quite close to the event horizon of the singularity. The tidal stress on the Thread broke apart the Chimalacatl -the Pylon, the great chrysalis chambers, the warehouses for the hosts-all gone.”

“We saw.” Helsdon sounded sick, but his face was alight with interest for the first time. “How-how did they do it? Hold something in balance deep in the gravity well? A platform-for the Vay’en themselves?”

“There were two lattices,” Anderssen replied, growing weary. What little strength had returned to her while recuperating in medbay was beginning to flag. “One fell while the other raised-not much, in the scale of their works, but enough. Enough for them to feel time quicken again.”

“Who?” Helsdon frowned, glancing to Kosho for support. “You said the Vay’en fell to oblivion-but something else rose up out of slow-time? What else was dwelling in this place? Something that will issue forth, as these Vay’en would have done?”

“Not yet, maybe never.” Gretchen made a vague motion towards the floor. “Eventually they might escape the gravity well, as their ancestors did. Or not. They have”-a small, fierce smile flitted across her face-“free will at least. They’ll have to choose, just like the rest of us.”

“Who? If the Vay’en perished in the singularity, what was on the other structure?”

“Their children.”

Helsdon and Susan stared at her, uncomprehending.

“That clever little bronze tablet Hummingbird gave me? He must have thought it a personal comp, or a ship-comm of some kind. But it was a teaching device for immature Vay’en. It tried to reprogram my mind and failed because my poor old ape brain just wasn’t capable of following the lessons. But it was a piece of the puzzle-and a twisty, nasty one at that. You see, the tablet was very old, even to the Vay’en. It was something they’d put aside-a failed, melancholy experiment-in favor of another, more promising way to cheat death.”

Kosho said nothing, hands clenched tightly behind her back. The Swedish woman’s voice had a queer, atonal quality and her face seemed marked by some last remnant of a hot golden glow. Helsdon drew back, shaking hand reaching for his sidearm.

“The Vay’en were-are-energy creatures,” Gretchen continued. “We would consider them sentient wave structures. And I would guess they could manipulate electromagnetic fields in close proximity to themselves with great dexterity. But in turn, their own physicality could be manipulated by quantum resonance. With the tablet, they were trying to bring their offspring ‘up to speed’ by exposing them to the already established mentation pattern of an accomplished elder. The mind in the tablet had been a poet, I think. Some kind of great artist. They wanted to keep his essence alive, even when chaos claimed him at last.

“In the beginning, the Vay’en evolved in the interface around a black hole. They could live far beyond its confines, but from all we saw, it seems they returned there to breed.” Gretchen halted, watching her two companions digest what she’d said.

Susan spoke first, musingly. “It was a nursery.”

Anderssen nodded, digging around for a threesquare in her blankets.

“They were betrayed, then,” the Nisei officer continued. “Their most loyal servants turned upon them at a most crucial juncture-their great fleet shattered by their own weapons. The Vay’en had to descend into the singularity to birth a new generation? But the Hjogadim trapped them too close to the event horizon, in slow-time. Then the treacherous Hjo abandoned the artifact and fled-to assume custody of the Vay’en dominions-to become Gods themselves.”

“Plagiarists,” Anderssen mumbled around the chewy bar. “Doesn’t sound like the traitors told anyone, though. A ‘Guide of Thought’ still rules the Hjo, from what I gather. But the Guide is not a Vay’en anymore, just some old fart of a Hjogadim pissing around a palace. So do the great powers pass!”

During this Helsdon had said nothing, but now the engineer stirred, moistening his lips before venturing: “You are saying the elder Vay’en had discovered how to live forever by impressing their memories and personality patterns upon the newborns of their own kind as they emerged from the birth-caul. They murdered their own children, so they might live on themselves?”

“Not just kin-murderers, either. They had no care for others of any race.” Gretchen’s voice was flat with anger. “You saw how Sahane viewed us. A pale echo of the attitude of his Gods. I think when the Vay’en departed their puppets en masse and descended to renew themselves, the Hjo rose up, seizing their one moment to escape. We have stumbled across the traces of a successful slave revolt.”

“But they didn’t all rebel, did they?” Kosho lifted her chin at the nav plot, where the vast shoals of broken leviathans still drifted in the abyss. “Even within the shield-reed, there must have been those who remained true to their masters.”

“Yes, many remained loyal. Quite a vicious little struggle they had. It was brother against brother… so much for the legacy of the glorious Vay’en. A squalid play of infanticide, kin war, and murder played out on a galactic scale, just to forestall death one more day. ”

“And now? What will happen to the children you’ve released from slow-time?”

Anderssen shrugged, managing the faintest smile. “I don’t know. It’s not much of a gifting day present, but they are freed from a cruel past.” And free of Lord Serpent, I hope. A nagging feeling of unease began to steal over her. Did that one escape the rebellion? How would you kill something like that? How long do they live?

“Was that what Hummingbird wanted?” Susan’s old anger began to return, thinking of the old Nahuatl. “Was that the choice of a nauallis? You said the end result was much as he desired-”

“His desire?” Gretchen snorted incredulously. “No, this was a tired mother’s choice, one who has seen both happy children and sad in full measure. No child was ever so blessed as to grow without the hand of expectation on her neck! Those which are let be, flourish, while those who are pressed hard wither. The Crow had no comprehension of what I felt, holding any of my babies in my arms. This was his great failing, I think, having no children of his own.”

With this, Anderssen finally lay back on the bed, her eyes turned to the ceiling and some distant vision. Kosho watched her for a minute, and then for five. But the Swedish woman said nothing more. At last, the Chu-sa turned away, motioning for Helsdon to follow.

When the door had cycled shut, Susan tapped open a comm channel to Oc Chac, who was acting duty officer on the bridge. “ Sho-sa, can you connect me to Captain De Charney aboard the Pilgrim? Extend my regards and let him know we’re ready for the rest of the wounded to come aboard.”

Then she turned to the engineer, who was waiting silently, head slightly bowed as he tried to digest all they had heard in the medbay. “ Kikan-shi, find Hennig and let him know we’ll be underway and out of this cursed place as fast as his crews can get the hypercoil in operation.”

Kosho’s face was calm and composed but her eyes were dark with troubled thoughts as Helsdon departed in haste. She could think of only one thing to do, given the intricacy of the situation. It’s at least seven days to get in range of one of the big t-repeaters on the Rim. If we push it, six. If I can manage a secure channel to Obasan Suchiru, then perhaps an accommodation can be made between the Mountains. Emperor Ahuizotl cannot be pleased to learn I’ve lost his son-not even an honorable corpse to bring home-as well as any possible prize from this tar-pit.

The thought of facing her grandmother with a disaster of this scale made Susan’s stomach clench, but despite this she walked steadily to the nearest lift, nodding to the doctors and corpsmen hurrying here and there in the medbay. When the doors cycled closed, she was perfectly composed, her white uniform shining in the gleam of the overheads.

“Main Command,” she requested.

Hadeishi pressed two fingers against a battle-steel door and heard, muted and distant through the metal, a chiming sound. A moment passed as he stood at ease, hands clasped behind his back, and then the door receded into the bulkhead with a soft hsst! Within, kneeling behind a low desk of teak and rosewood, her fine-boned face pale in the light of a single task-light, Susan Kosho was considering an array of v-displays, all filled with reports, forms, and colorful graphs displaying the state of her ship.

“Yes?” she said, not bothering to look up.

“Somehow,” he said, amused, “you’ve brought your office through in fine shape, Sho-sa. Mine always seemed to take the worst of it, riding such a rough passage. Everything would always be ruined…”

Kosho’s head lifted, eyes widening at the sight of the thin, weary-looking Nisei officer. She stood, tucking a stylus into the twisted bun of hair behind her head, and stepped around the end of the desk.

“You’re here?” She paused a polite distance away, the carefully impassive mask of her face subtly transforming. Without meaning to, Susan began to smile. “You were very foolish to come through the Pinhole after us-there was no safety to be found in our company.”

“So we discovered!” Mitsuharu bowed, dark eyes twinkling. “But things would have been worse if we ran the other way… I had no choice, really, knowing you were here.”

She nodded, looking him up and down. Then she shook her head, seeing quickheal gel shining on his neck, his wrists. The trim brown and white uniform seemed to fit him well enough, though it was strange to see him out of Fleet colors. “You’ve been in the infirmary again, Chu-sa. And I’ve seen your poor ship-kindling and splinters are all that remains.”

“Yes,” he said ruefully, shrugging thin shoulders. “She had a brave heart, though, even to the end.”

“Your crew is aboard,” Kosho offered, “under the best care we can provide.” She stepped closer, pursing her lips disapprovingly, and took the hem of his jacket sleeve between thumb and forefinger. “Lost all your clothes, I see. Is this a loaner?”

Hadeishi shook his head, straightening the half-jacket. “I’ve a new commission, Sho-sa. Brevet-captain of the Kader -that same poor wreck lying in tow off the Pilgrim -mine now that I’d found her, brought her to worse state than when she fell into my hands. But-”

“A ship, still. A starship.” Kosho stepped back, her expression turning wan and drained. “I can offer you nothing better, Chu-sa. Not even as an unfounded promise.”

“I know.” Hadeishi smoothed back his hair from forehead to nape in a terribly familiar gesture. “It is strange-not to be in dress whites, not to hear the piping when coming aboard.” He looked around her cabin, at first sad, but then whistling softly in appreciation. In comparison to his old quarters on the Cornuelle, the Naniwa ’s accommodations were refined, even luxurious. “This suits you, Sho-sa .”

Kosho looked around at the gleaming wood-paneled walls-the tatami-patterned g-decking-and laughed softly. “Pretty-but all this doesn’t give me another meter of armor, another sixteen hard-points…”

“Don’t think it useless!” Mitsuharu admonished. “You must find rest somewhere or your alertness will be dulled.”

“How does it compare to a Templar ship?” Susan slid a panel aside on one of the walls, revealing a compartment holding a black iron kettle and a rack of cups. “Tea?”

“ Domo, Sho-sa.” He knelt gingerly on a nearby mat, settling with a hiss of pain. Kosho began measuring matcha into the cups. “What I have seen of the Pilgrim matches the best the Fleet has put underway. Their captains-well, I’ve experience with two-are able.”

“Hm.” Susan whisked steaming hot water into the green powder. “Are you oath sworn now, to the Temple?”

“No.” Hadeishi tilted his head inquisitively. He could see Kosho’s attention was fixed on the molten jade swirling in the two cups, but something in her voice sharpened his interest. “I’ve command of the Kader under the terms of a commercial contract as a serving crewman on a Temple-owned ship-as salvage officer. But I am not yet a Knight of the Temple, or even a poor brother…”

She turned, holding a small enameled tray in her hands, and knelt as well, pale blue cups and rice cakes between them. “You wish to be?”

“They have use of my poor talents, it seems. As a salvage driver, if nothing else.” He shrugged, and then lifted his cup. “ Domo arigato , Sho-sa. It is good to sit with you again, even in such a strange place, so far from home.”

She inclined her head. “You’re welcome, Chu-sa. Magister De Charney would be a fool to refuse your talents. Not as a tug captain, either! I’ve recently reviewed all of the Mirror briefs on the Fratres Milites Templi -and while they have an excellent reputation in counterpiracy activities, and even in some border skirmishes-there is no evidence they have put main line-of-battle vessels like the Pilgrim into service before. Nor deployed ships displaying a countermeasures system which can handily defeat our sensors!”

With this, she paused, watching him carefully. For the first time in their long association, Mitsuharu suddenly felt a distance between them. She’s suspicious? Of me? Hadeishi set down his cup. And why not? I’ve arrived in the colors of a foreign power. Having been aboard the strike carrier for only a day, the Nisei officer had already grasped the leap in power and confidence of the Knights. Seeing the ship’s crew at work in the command spaces, in the medbay, even in the shuttle which had brought him over to the Naniwa, an old, old story from the naval history of old Earth had come to mind. A Danish admiral had once said, when judging his people’s many enemies: “Nothing shows the temper and ability of a nation more clearly and concisely than the crew of a ship of war-be it an aircraft carrier or an attack submarine-everything else can be disguised, hidden, faked… but not the natural camaraderie and interplay of an experienced crew.”

“Susan, I am still an Imperial officer. My name remains on the List, my commission stands. I can tell you this much of the Knights: the Pilgrim is a match in gunnery, speed, crew, and systems for any carrier in the Fleet. Her crew is dedicated, resourceful, and enthusiastic. And yes, I have seen with my own eyes-I have in fact used to excellent effect-an emissions dampening system which rendered a Temple-owned freighter invisible to Khaid sensors at point-blank range.”

Kosho did not answer immediately, setting down her own cup and adjusting the tray carefully. When she did look up, Hadeishi felt a tiny cold shock. Her expression was pinched and wan. “Do you think-” She paused, reordering her thoughts. “Has the Order decided to break with the Empire? Is the Pilgrim on a combat footing?”

“Combat?” Mitsuharu shook his head. “No, they’ve stood down. There are fighter wings on patrol… but I’ve seen nothing which indicates they are hostile to us.”

Then she did seem to relax, a brittle tension flowing away from her, and she raised the cup again. “Greetings, Chu-sa. I did not think I’d see you again, when we parted at Toroson.”

“I either!” Hadeishi laughed softly, feeling his heart lighten. “Who could have guessed we’d come together again in such a remote fastness, or by such a circuitous path?”

“Who indeed?” Kosho offered a faint smile, though her eyes were shadowed again. “It must have been fate.”

The temple bells were ringing the length and breadth of Kyoto, filling the warm night air with a glad clamoring sound. Uncounted voices were raised, singing a song of welcome and unbridled joy. Musashi nodded to himself, scratching at his stubbled, gray beard, and turned away from the huge mass of people thronging the courtyard. He passed under an orange tree whose branches were filled with chattering, laughing children-all peering wide-eyed at the steps leading up into the hall of Shishinden, hoping for a glimpse of the new Emperor-and then forced his way against the press of citizens flowing into the royal complex from the streets. Once beyond the Imperial precincts, the traffic eased and he sighed with relief. He shrugged his shoulders, loosening his muscles, tucked both arms inside his kimono, and found his feet on the great Nara road, heading west. The night sky was clear, showing the moon in quarter-crescent, and the stars were twinkling like jewels strewn on black velvet.

Breathing deeply, feeling free for the first time in a decade, the old man started home.