Timeweb Trilogy Omnibus (129 page)

“But even outnumbered, we’re still better than they are,” Hackman said. “We already proved that here, and your forces can only help.” He looked back, and motioned for a square-jawed man to step forward.

“This is Doctor Bichette,” the Vice-General said. “He runs the CorpOne medical research division, and has come up with capsules to immunize you from the HibAdu diseases. He will be coordinating the treatments for all of your officers and soldiers.”

After shaking hands with Anton and Nirella, the doctor looked past them and said, “Hello, Tesh.”

“Hurk.” Her reply was icy.

“We used to know each other well,” Bichette said to the Vice-General, with a curt smile.

“He was the personal physician for Prince Saito,” Tesh said. “Noah Watanabe’s father.”

Following an awkward silence, an aide to Dr. Bichette handed out packets of capsules to Anton and his entourage.

After taking the medications, Anton, Nirella, and Tesh boarded a survey aircraft, along with Hacket and Bichette. Thinker accompanied them, as did other top MPA and Liberator officers. Their civilian pilot flew them away from the valley and the city, out toward the coast.

Below, on a broad field bordering the sea, Anton saw tens of thousands of bodies and the burned-out hulks of warships from both sides of the battle, including the rotting remains of dead podships.

“The enemy pods aren’t natural,” Hacket said, pointing to several decaying wrecks on the ground. “They’re growing them in Adurian bio-labs, and fitting them with Hibbil navigation machines.”

“We saw a couple of them back on the starcloud,” Anton said. “The Tulyans are analyzing them.”

“We’ve done some of that ourselves,” Hacket said. “We’ll have to compare notes.”

They toured four more death-fields where ships had fallen and soldiers on both sides had died. Many enemy robots lay on the ground beside Hibbils and Adurians, but Anton didn’t care about any of them. Then a tinge of emotion went through him as he realized how many of his own loyal robots had fallen fighting at the sides of his fighters.

Presently Anton and his entourage flew over the smoldering remains of Octo, one of Canopa’s largest cities. “We lost over a million people down there,” Bichette said in a somber tone. “But it could have been worse.”

“You’re a military expert now?” Tesh said.

“Just quoting the Vice-General,” he replied.

“That’s right,” Hacket agreed. “The HibAdus arrived in force, but we drove them back.”

Kajor Avery, a slender officer with almond-shaped eyes, pursed his lips. “The enemy seemed to pull their punches, as if they didn’t want to wipe everything out. We counterattacked, and they fled too easily.”

“In your opinion,” Vice-General Hacket said. “It’s not the majority opinion.”

“I have the vote that counts,” Doge Anton said. He narrowed his gaze. “I think the HibAdus could have hit harder, but they wanted to save the planet as a war prize. Even with us here, they probably think they can strike a killing blow any time they feel like it.”

Avery nodded, while Hacket just glared silently.

Tapping General Nirella on the shoulder, Anton said, “Send an emergency message to Noah Watanabe at Siriki. Tell him in detail what happened here, and not to let his guard down.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Most members of a racial group do not know the reasons for their hatred of another race. The reasons fall away, like leaves from a tree. But the hatred remains.

—First Elder Kre’n

Noah’s fleet split space in brilliant bursts of green as it emerged over Siriki. While his warships formed into battle groups, the flagship
Okion
went into geostationary orbit over the planet. On the command bridge of the vessel, Noah stood at a wide viewing window with Subi Danvar, watching violent splashes of color in near-space and in the atmosphere below. They had arrived on the night side of the planet, and from his high vantage point Noah received reports from spotters about the ferocious battle raging below.

He heard their voices on his comlink headset, and on screen displays he saw smaller HibAdu and MPA ships engaged in fierce dogfights and larger ones in cannon exchanges, lighting up orbital space and the skies over the planet with orange tracer fire and brilliant, multicolored explosions.

Before Noah and Subi could put a rescue plan into operation, a Tulyan woman received permission to enter, and strode heavily onto the command bridge. The reptilian Zigzia had always been what her people called a “webtalker,” but Noah had not heard of the vocation until recently, from Elders at the starcloud. Prior to that, he and other Guardians had only known that Zigzia could send and receive messages across the galaxy, though an arcane method of communication.

But the name of her specialty said a great deal about how she and others like her accomplished it. In recent days Noah had asked questions, and had learned that they tapped into Timeweb in a variety of ways, and transmitted telepathically along the strands of the infrastructure.

“Urgent message from Doge Anton at Canopa,” the webtalker said in a trancelike voice. “He advises you not to trust anything you see, and suspects that the HibAdus are adept at trickery, at laying deadly traps for our forces. On Canopa it is relatively calm, but there are indications of a storm brewing.”

Without hesitating, Noah dictated a response to Doge Anton. “Sire, I have encountered a difficult situation on Siriki. The HibAdus are attacking in considerable force.”

Completing his comments, Noah waved the Tulyan away. She hurried off to transmit. By prior arrangement, the three divisions of the Liberator fleet—at Canopa, Siriki, and Dij—were on their own, unless Doge Anton decided to change that.

Keeping his main force back, he ordered one of his battle groups to attack, and it dove into action. Podships disgorged thousands of fighter craft into the sky, which immediately sped to the aid of the Sirikan defenders, guns blazing. In orbital space, some of Noah’s larger ships hunted for the biggest, most powerful enemy targets, which were not making themselves apparent thus far.

Just then, firing their powerful cannons, two enemy podships came out of nowhere and raced toward Noah’s flagship. It was a moment of vulnerability, but
Okion
—either from instinct or the Tulyan pilot operating it—darted out of the way in the battle-lit darkness as if it were a smaller, more agile craft, and fired volleys that destroyed both vessels. They blew up in bursts of color that quickly flashed out in the airless vacuum.

* * * * *

In the next half hour, the tide of battle swung decisively in the Liberators’ favor. No more enemy lab-pods appeared, and the smaller warships were soon scattered or destroyed. Confident that he could go to the next stage, Noah sent more commands by comlink, and to the flagship’s sectoid chamber through a Tulyan on the command bridge. Now
Okion
led the main body of Noah’s fleet downward, into the atmosphere. Fighter craft and other podships cleared the way. HibAdu ships were no match for the natural podships, or for the smaller vessels operated by highly trained crews. Reports came in to Noah over comlinks that the HibAdus were in full retreat.

Followed by other podships,
Okion
flew to the sunlit side of Siriki, where there were no ongoing battles. The ship circled the grounds of Princess Meghina’s palace and then set down in a broad meadow of flowers. Hundreds of ships followed, while additional craft found their own landing sites in the nearby countryside.

As Noah and Subi disembarked in bright sunlight, he was greeted by three MPA officers who wore red-and-gold uniforms. Hundreds of soldiers stood at attention, and behind them rose the glittering turrets and spires of the Golden Palace. The Princess had not returned since the cessation of regularly scheduled podship travel.

“I’ll go ahead and check things out,” Subi said. “Let’s see if the keep in her palace matches its reputation.”

Noah nodded, and watched as Subi and a half-dozen men marched down a flower-line path toward the elegant structure. Looking around, Noah saw no signs of war here. The grounds were immaculately maintained.

Reportedly the Princess had set up an attack-proof capsule inside the palace structure, her version of the ancient concept of a fortified castle keep, where the royal family and key associates resided. Subi—with his security expertise—wanted to see it first-hand.

At a gesture from Noah, a dark-skinned aide hurried over, and saluted. “Sir?”

“Bring the Mutati to me,” Noah said.

Within minutes, two soldiers brought Parais d’Olor to him. Under close supervision, she had ridden in the passenger compartment of one of the other podships.

“Another test I need to pass?” the Mutati asked in a weary voice, when she reached Noah. She looked much the same as the last time he’d seen her, just before his fleet disembarked, but he thought her peacock feathers were of a slightly different color now. A woman’s prerogative, he supposed. Her small beak moved as she spoke.

“No,” he said.

Before departing from the starcloud on this mission, the Council of Elders had confirmed Parais’s veracity and lack of duplicity by administering the truthing touch on her. The Tulyans had done the same with all of the other Mutatis who had arrived in the two lab-pods, including the shapeshifter leader, Hari’Adab. Now, according to a report that had been transmitted to Noah’s flagship, Parais d’Olor had passed an additional series of truthing tests that had been administered by Tulyans in Noah’s fleet.

In his experience as Master of the Guardians, Noah had developed a sixth sense about the people he admitted into his environmental organization. Unarguably, the best choice he had ever made had been Subi Danvar, a man who had risen quickly through the ranks to become adjutant. Another had been the Tulyan Eshaz, who had performed excellent ecological recovery work for the organization. In accepting Tesh Kori as a Guardian, Noah had assessed her heart correctly, but had not realized until later that she was really a Parvii, and not Human. He had also allowed the cerebral robot, Thinker, to join his inner circle. Thus, an interesting pattern had developed around Noah, as he interacted closely with a variety of galactic races, as well as sentient robots.

Subi Danvar, always security conscious, had expressed concern over this when he saw the pattern taking shape. In response, Noah had authorized him to complete any background or other security checks he wanted, and the adjutant had done so. For non-Humans, that proved to be difficult, but in his own way, Subi had satisfied himself that the eclectic assortment of new Guardians were an asset to the organization, and not a liability.

Noah had never suspected anything else. Just as he saw the entire galaxy as one ecological unit, so too did he view all galactic races—and even sentient robots (who were inspired by Humans)—as cut from the same essential cloth. Honor was honor, and betrayal was betrayal. Though he had been through his share of battles and could justify feeling otherwise, Noah invariably tried to find the good in people, instead of assuming the worst about them. He even did this with his enemies, trying to understand their rationalizations, their motivations. It helped him cope.

Now, as he looked intently into Parais’s large brown eyes, Noah was trying to determine the sincerity of the member of yet another race. And this time it was not just any galactic race. This was a
Mutati
, and they had been the mortal enemies of humankind since time immemorial.

“I believe I can trust you,” Noah said.

She smiled, revealing upturned creases around the sides of her beak. “You remind me of my Hari,” she said, “always thinking, always evolving in your thinking. You look
through
people.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, but these are not ordinary times.”

“No, they aren’t.”

He told the soldiers with her to allow her freedom of movement, then said to Parais, “I’ll talk more about this to Doge Anton, and see if we can come up with duties for you. Something befitting of your position and your unique skills.”

“Thank you.” She bowed slightly to him.

“Excuse me,” Noah said, as he received a vibrating comlink signal. When Parais left, he took the call over a handheld transceiver. It was from Subi.

“The palace is everything I hoped,” the adjutant said. He grinned, put his hand on a pistol that was holstered on his hip. “Ten of us convinced the caretaker to give us a tour. Meghina’s central keep is virtually impregnable, so it should be as good a place as any to coordinate our military operations. There are some surprises, though, as you’ll see when you get here.”

Followed by the MPA officers and some of his own men, Noah marched along the dimly-lit main path toward the palace. Just before going in the main entrance, he saw Acey Zelk and Dux Hannah, in a lighted section of the gardens. The teenagers were with a group of men setting up temporary structures and equipment for a security perimeter around the grounds. Dux said something to a non-commissioned officer, who looked in Noah’s direction and then nodded to him deferentially.

The boys hurried over to join Noah, and Acey spoke first. “Master Noah, we really sent the HibAdus packing, didn’t we?” The young man, having never really retired from the Guardians or been dismissed from them, apparently felt comfortable using Noah’s title as the leader of that organization.

“Don’t trust anything you see,” Noah said, passing Anton’s advice along. “We can’t let our guard down for a moment.”

“Our Grandmamá Zelk lives on Siriki,” Dux said. “In the back country. Sir, we’re worried about her.”

“Can we go and check on her?” Acey asked. He grinned awkwardly. “We’re just a couple of kids and not worth much. No one will miss us.”

“You’re hardly worthless,” Noah said. “I’ve been getting good reports on both of you.” He looked boys over, noted that much of the baby fat had left their faces.

“We know how to use local transportation,” Dux said in an imploring voice, “and we won’t take long.”

Hesitation. Then: “OK, I’m going to let you go. You’ve both earned the right.” He patted the boys on the shoulders. “But take care of yourselves and come back safe, all right?”