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Authors: Brian Herbert

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BOOK: Webdancers
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Chapter Thirty

Many take credit for successes, but are nowhere to be found when it is time to assess blame.

—Anonymous

The Eye of the Swarm could not determine when or where his race had slipped onto the path of disaster, or how much he might have contributed to it personally. After the initial shock of realization, he had tried to diminish his personal responsibility for what had gone wrong, convincing himself that he had only done what other leaders had done before him.

But he realized quickly that this was utter foolishness. To correct the present situation, he first had to fully admit his own culpability, and then find a way to resurrect ancient Parvii glories. As long as his people lived and were capable of breeding, the restoration of the fallen race remained a possibility, albeit a faint one.

The after-effects of the cataclysm were all around him now, and apparent to anyone. His once magnificent Parvii swarms—decillions of individuals—now amounted to less than one hundred and ninety-four thousand.

But after creating the telepathic bubble in which the remaining population could huddle without detection from outside, there had been some welcome signs of improvement. The death rate had slowed, and inside the comparative warmth of the invisible enclosure one of the latent breeding specialists was returning to consciousness at this very moment and was expected to join Yurtii, the latent war priest who had recently become aware of his ancient identity. In these two and in the five remaining latents, the future of the Parvii race hung. His people needed to fight back, but to accomplish that they first needed their numbers to increase dramatically.

And something more occurred to him now. It was important.
Next time, I will divide the swarms into independent telepathic divisions,
Woldn thought.
That could help prevent the massive die-off that we experienced. Of course, it will mean sharing my power—or at least delegating some of it—but perhaps that is important to do.

Increasingly, it seemed to him that the old ways, while revered and magical in the collective memories of his people, might not always be best. The Parviis, he realized, had been in a long and gradual decline, and the results of their cumulative weakness now placed them on the brink of extinction.

Like a parent observing the birth of a child, Woldn watched a naked boy emerge from the protected cluster of Parviis at the core of the swarm. It was not a new birth, at least not in the physical sense, but mentally and spiritually it was entirely new. And entirely old. Though their telepathic linkage, Woldn learned the ancient name of the breeding specialist that was coming back to consciousness:
Imho
.

Again, as with the war priest Yurtii earlier, the name was at first unfamiliar to Woldn, meaning that this was not one of the most famous of the ancients. But it was someone of significance, anyway, a highly valued breeding expert.

Looking at Woldn, the child blinked his eyes and said, “Knowledge is power, but only if used properly. Otherwise, it can be a curse.” His slender body trembled slightly.

“Already you are wiser than I,” Woldn said with a smile. He paused, sensing an ancient stirring in the minds of the other latent breeding specialists, like psychic creatures coming out of a long hibernation.

But the other latent war priest, huddled with them, had no ancient thoughts. So far, he was only a modern boy. At least he was holding steady physically. For a time his host body had declined precipitously. But then, on the verge of death, he had rallied. Perhaps—and Woldn had no proof of this—it was because an ancient being wanted to come back. Maybe it would be one of the great war priests, as Yurtii had suggested.

“I feel the flow,” Imho said, “breeding data surging into my mind, a flood of it.” He paused, and his face filled with a beatific reverie.

One of the older females flew close to the boy. She wrapped a warm blue cloak around him, then guided him over to where Yurtii looked on. Woldn dared to feel a surge of hope. The two of them were of different specializations, but in ancient times war priests and breeding specialists had worked closely together, albeit in much larger numbers.

For the Parviis, the present challenge was all about numbers, and about developing them as rapidly as possible. More bodies and minds meant more power, for only in multitudes could the devastatingly violent telepathic weapons of old be resurrected.

Breeding and war, with each specialization feeding necessarily upon the other. Historically it had been true with many races, and so too with the Parviis. It was a nice balance of life and death, an exquisite concept, and truly beautiful in the application.

With renewed determination, Woldn probed telepathically to the core of the clustered Parviis, to the four latent breeding specialists and the one latent war priest there.

At long last, the second war priest began to stir, along with the other breeding specialists.…

Chapter Thirty-One

We are each of us only seconds away from committing violence.

—Ancient saying

Moments before the emergency on the mini-sub, the Hibbil had been staring at patterns of freckles and moles on the sides of Lorenzo del Velli’s neck, visible in cabin illumination whenever the gray-haired old man turned his head one way or the other. For some reason, Pimyt had never noticed the patterns previously, but as the boat proceeded through murky underwater darkness, he became fixated on them.

His red-eyed gaze moved upward, along the side of the man’s face and back down again. A hand came into view as Lorenzo gestured with it while speaking to one of the two Red Beret soldiers seated at the front, the larger man who was not piloting the sub. Lorenzo’s hand had more flesh-fat than the Hibbil had noticed previously, and he felt saliva building in his mouth. An involuntary, anticipatory response that Pimyt had usually suppressed before, trying to put such primal urges out of his mind. But now, in this remote subterranean region of an unnamed planet, new possibilities seemed open to him. Actions he had not dared to seriously consider before, whenever he and Lorenzo interacted over the years.

Prior to the recent turn of events, Pimyt had been focused inward, on the schemes of the HibAdu Coalition and on the important role he played in them. In conjunction with that, he’d been forced to deal with the constant demands of this difficult Human nobleman, doing so in a manner that would keep Lorenzo from noticing the Hibbil’s true intentions. Playing his part with consummate skill, Pimyt had remained near the important merchant prince, poised to take him prisoner the moment the Coalition was ready to make their move.

Now, for all Pimyt knew, HibAdu forces had already made their attacks on merchant prince and shapeshifter planets. Just before the space station hurtled into this unknown realm, his military leaders had been saying that an important announcement was imminent. If the attacks had been made, or were underway now, certain opportunities might already be available to him. His gaze moved to the two soldiers at the front, especially to the heavyset one on the right who was talking with Lorenzo. Pimyt visualized blood gushing from the severed arteries of all three Humans, and their startled eyes as they looked at the vicious Hibbil and wondered what was happening to them.

I’m much faster than they realize
, Pimyt thought.
In the blink of an eye, I could kill all of them.

The moisture buildup in his mouth increased, but he forced control over himself, having second thoughts that he might not be able to pilot the sub adequately in this underground waterway. His carnivorous pleasures would have to wait. He smiled to himself, though. It had been fun letting his imagination run for a while.

Suddenly Pimyt became aware of the mini-sub shooting forward, and the engines being thrown into reverse. The pilot issued a volley of curses. Through the windshield, Pimyt saw filtered light ahead, and realized that they were back on the surface of the water again, with a very high cavern ceiling above them.

“Waterfall!” the soldier beside him shouted.

The engines surged and tugged, but the vessel kept going forward, caught in a powerful current. The sound of the engines intensified and increased in pitch, until finally they seemed to catch hold of something. The sub went backward slowly, and veered to one side, toward the bank. On this section, the stream had become a river, and was considerably wider than their embarkation point.

As the pilot guided the craft toward a low shelf of rock on one side, Pimyt gazed in astonishment at a huge subterranean cavern that dwarfed the waterfall and the tiny vessel. The cavern appeared to be illuminated from within, with eerie, pale blue light coming from crystalline walls and stalactite deposits that hung like icicles from above. Across the waterway he saw what looked like another waterfall drop-off, undoubtedly tumbling like the nearer one into a pool somewhere far below.

The mini-sub slid up onto the rock shelf, and came to a safe stop. Relieved for the moment, they all got out of the vessel and walked around in the strange blue illumination, looking up at the luminous ceiling in wonder, gasping in awe at something they’d never seen before.

Abruptly, the rock shook around them, and stalactites began to fall from the ceiling, crashing around them on the rocky floor and splashing into the water. “Quick!” Pimyt yelled. “Back in the sub, or we’ll be trapped here!”

As they ran for the vessel, a stalactite smashed down on the larger Red Beret soldier, crushing him to death. Dodging and leaping over debris, the three others hurried back to the sub. They slid the craft back into the water and boarded. Within moments, the hatch was closed and they were underway, submerging as far as they could and going back the way they had come.

To Pimyt, the return trip seemed interminable. Chunks of rock kept falling into the water, as if an enemy was dropping depth charges from above, trying to hit them. The pilot had to make evasive maneuvers, but one of the pieces glanced off the hull, sending them off course. Still, he recovered quickly, and they continued on.

Finally, the pilot confirmed their location from the instruments and surfaced at the embarkation point, in the narrow stretch of waterway. With the ground still shaking, the desperate trio—with Pimyt in the lead—scrambled out and ran up the ramp of dirt to the surface.

The Hibbil was considerably faster than his companions, which elicited a breathless reprimand from Lorenzo: “Slow down, Pimyt … and make sure I get out!”

Pimyt ignored him, but heard the soldier say, “I’ll help you, Sire.” The slender Red Beret had remained back with the merchant prince.

Sputtering in anger, Lorenzo continued up the slope.

When all three of them were at the top, the former doge started into a harangue at Pimyt, but fell silent when the ground shook even harder, and the hole closed behind them. Over at the landing site, the shuttle hovered just above the ground, awaiting the return of the exploration team.

The shaking intensified, but the shuttle set down on the ground again anyway, where it rocked and threatened to topple over. Six soldiers jumped out and helped Lorenzo, Pimyt, and the submarine pilot onto the shuttle. Without further delay, the craft lifted into the sky.

Gazing out a porthole, Pimyt felt the engines running roughly, so that the pilot had to rev them higher to keep going up. He watched the ground shudder and change shape below. And above, where they were headed, Pimyt saw the lights of the space station flickering on and off.

Then, in a bright green flash, the space station disappeared.

Chapter Thirty-Two

The universe is the brain of God.

—Ancient saying

“You boys keep your eyes open, all right?” Subi Danvar said. “Noah is worried about you.” The adjutant had taken time away from his busy schedule to see Dux and Acey off as they prepared to leave the palace grounds.

“We can take care of ourselves,” Acey said, sticking out his chin with determination. He and his cousin wore variweather coats that were adaptable to temperature and weather changes, and small backpacks.

They stood by the main entry gate, where Red Beret robots stood guard. Nearby, other robots and Humans looked on, waiting to talk with Subi.

The rotund man frowned. He looked up as a squadron of MPA patrol aircraft flew overhead, then said, “I’m sending someone with you. All of us think a lot of you, so we’ve assigned one of our machines to accompany you.”

He gestured, and a small, dull brown robot approached, with green and yellow lights flashing around its face plate. Dux noticed that some of the lights weren’t working, and saw a number of dents on the body. That didn’t necessarily mean anything, or it could suggest a lack of recent servicing.

“This is Kekur,” Subi said. “He served with great distinction under Jimu, and he will be of great use to you.”

“Is he armed?” Dux asked, noting compartments on the robot’s body, where weapons might be carried.

“Of course,” Subi said. “To avoid calling attention to him, he bears no military markings or indications, but he is in fact a soldier.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” Acey said. “We don’t need a metal bodyguard.”

“To the contrary, we have intelligence information that HibAdu remnants are still on Siriki. They’re hiding out, waiting to be found by their comrades, or waiting to regroup.”

“We can scout around for you, then,” Dux said.

The adjutant nodded. “Right. You’re still on duty. Transmit messages to us through the robot.”

“I am your servant,” Kekur said.

“So we’re spies now,” Dux said.

Acey grunted, a sound that Dux recognized as agreement.

When the robot arrived, Acey flipped open a control panel on its chest. Apparently he had noticed the same potential deficiencies as Dux. Then he said, “Okay, this will give me something to tinker with when I’m bored. I always have a few tools with me.”

“I don’t need any adjustment,” Kekur said. The lights on his faceplate blinked faster, but some of them were still out.

“Everything will be fine as long as you follow our commands,” Acey said.

“I am your servant,” Kekur repeated.

“There are certain things he won’t do,” Subi said.

“Such as?” Dux asked.

“He has one of our enhanced security programs, so he won’t follow risky commands, anything that, in his estimation, could put the two of you in increased danger.”

“What if we want to override him?” Acey asked.

“Not possible,” Kekur said.

“Can we still do what
we
want?” Dux asked Subi.

The robot answered. “As your servant, I would not prevent you from going into danger, but I would warn you before taking countermeasures. Then, if you insist on being foolhardy, I will do whatever I can to protect you.”

“You must do so without trying to block us,” Acey said with a grin.

“Only if possible,” Kekur said. The faceplate lights dimmed, then went off as his transitional programming settled down.

* * * * *

“I guess Noah doesn’t think we can do much to help,” Acey said. Staring out the window of the hoverbus, he brushed a hand through his bristly black hair. “I didn’t think he’d agree to let us go so easily. I mean, if we were key people, he would have begged for us to stay.”

Seated beside him, Dux said, “You’re the one who said we’re just a couple of kids and no one will miss us. Besides, we must have some value, or they wouldn’t have sent Kekur to watch out for us.”

The robot was seated across the aisle from them. A handful of Sirikan citizens sat in other seats, chatting nervously about difficulties they had been experiencing since the HibAdus first attacked.

“Well, cousin,” Dux said, “we are young, and we have been a bit flighty in the past, jumping from one galactic adventure to another.”

“We returned to the Guardians, didn’t we? That means we have some staying power after all.”

Dux smiled. “You surprise me, Acey. You’re talking like I do.” He nudged the shorter, more muscular boy. “Maybe I should play your part from now on—the aggressive one, the one who’s always getting us into trouble. You can be the cerebral one.”

“This time it was your idea, cousin.”

Dux felt a little guilty about making the special request to see their grandmother, since the boys wanted to contribute what they could to the war effort. But they had to find out if she was all right. The old woman lived in the back country, without modern conveniences. They had no way to contact her without going to see her. She was a feisty old bird, though.…

“Say,” Acey said. “What are you smiling about?”

“Was I? Uh, I was just thinking about the time Grandmamá chased us around her yard with a stick.”

“I remember, because we accidentally ran over her vegetable garden with that aircar we stole. Boy, was she mad!”


We
stole? You were driving, Acey, and it was your idea to steal it. I was trying to get you to slow down and take it back.”

“Nobody slows me down, buddy.”

“Just wait ‘til Grandmamá gets ahold of you.”

Acey flushed. “You’ve got a point there.”

* * * * *

Noah stood in an opulent library that contained shimmering holobooks on simulated shelves, the personal collection of Princess Meghina. While waiting for Subi Danvar and his top military officers to report for a meeting, he scanned the titles. To his surprise, several of them were about environmental issues, and he recognized a number of the titles. A large number of other books were about animal welfare.

He recalled seeing the famous courtesan more than six months ago on the pod station where he was taken prisoner by Red Berets. Meghina had tried to prevent Francella from shooting him. The few times he had met the Princess, she had always been kind to him. Now, in one of her private rooms, he felt her kindness, her concern for the environment, for animals, and the compassion she had showed toward him.

Only half conscious of what he was doing, Noah rubbed the back of his neck, beneath the collar where his skin had been getting thick and rough. For several days now the areas of coarse skin had slowed their expansion, and thus far they had not appeared anywhere that people could easily notice. Just the day before, he had finally confided in Subi Danvar about his condition, and the adjutant had suggested that he see a doctor. Noah refused, saying he was too busy for that, and swore him to secrecy.…

In the library, time seemed to slow around Noah, and his thoughts drifted. He envisioned himself out in space, at first inside a podship as it sped along a podway, a strand of galactic webbing. Then, as moments passed, he felt the irregular skin seem to cover his entire body. Then his face merged into the flesh of the podship, and appeared on the prow of the vessel. With his own eyes and the optic sensors on the hull of the podship, he saw far into the galaxy. He was back in Timeweb.

This metamorphosis felt supremely comfortable to him, and very familiar. As moments passed, questions seeped into his mind, and he wondered if he had always been this ancient podship. If he was the oldest of spacefaring creatures, perhaps this explained why—even in Human form—he had come up with the concept of galactic ecology, of planets and star systems interconnected in one large environment.

As he surged through space, Noah suddenly felt himself buffeted, so that he could hardly remain on the podway infrastructure. He slowed way down, and then came to a stop in space.

A timestorm is coming
, he thought, with a sudden awareness of information that had not been available to him previously. Timeweb didn’t seem so alien to him anymore. He was part of it, and it was part of him.

Space warped around the podship, an immense flexing back and forth. Noah did all he could to remain on the webbing. Just ahead, a planet came into view, and its name surfaced in his consciousness: Yaree. It was one of the unaligned worlds, where numerous galactic races coexisted.

Beyond the planet, a jagged hole appeared in space, a spot of black-blackness, so intensely dark that it was readily visible to him. Gradually the hole shifted, grew larger, and he saw a bright flash of green light inside it.

As he stared, transfixed, Noah detected an illuminated object coming toward him from the hole in space, going at a very high rate of speed. As it came into his visual range, he realized, in amazement, what it was.

EcoStation!
The orbital facility that had once been his, and which Doge Lorenzo had commandeered for his own purposes.

As if drawn by a magnet, the space station rushed toward Noah at an apparent speed that should have torn it apart. But it held together and drew closer. Entranced, Noah watched it, unable to move.

Just when the space station seemed about to slam into him, it suddenly slowed and floated in space, not far away. The facility, though largely intact, was badly dented, as if it was an ocean-going vessel that had survived a hurricane. Some of its modules had split open, and loose contents and other parts spilled out into the weightless void, along with bodies. Concerned, Noah guided his podship-self in that direction, to do what he could. But something resisted his forward movement and reduced his speed, like a powerful current going against him.

I think the space station was in the undergalaxy and now it’s back
, Noah thought, as he made slow headway.

But he realized that he knew very little about the adjacent galaxy, only that timeholes in the membrane between the two realms provided occasional glimpses. And he recalled an earlier vision, in which he had seen a small Parvii swarm hiding in the other galaxy, near the bolt hole they had used to escape from their sacred fold. Assuming the vision had been accurate, he had always wondered what had happened to them.

Now, as he drew near the space station and its widening debris field, the timehole sealed over behind them, and vanished from view. Then everything became hazy, just a wash of gray-blackness in all directions.

Noah blinked his eyes, and found himself back on Siriki, standing in the private library. He watched as Subi Danvar and other uniformed officers filed into the room for their scheduled meeting.

I’m not going crazy
, Noah told himself. He had been through such paranormal shifts before, and although they never felt entirely comfortable to him, he was getting more used to them.

But he was still left with an uncountable number of unanswered questions.

BOOK: Webdancers
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