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Authors: Brian Herbert

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BOOK: The Web and the Stars
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Chapter Sixty-One

The variations of God are infinite.

—Noah Watanabe, Commentary on Sentience

“I shouldn’t have gone,” Lorenzo said. “The tension was so thick in that chapel, you could cut it with a knife.” He and his Hibbil attaché stood in a new casino module, watching robots move heavy gambling machines into place.

“To the contrary, My Lord,” Pimyt said, rubbing his own furry chin. “It is always valuable to attend such events, for the purpose of gathering information.”

“Perhaps, but I felt like jumping out of my seat and strangling Noah.”

“Francella wanted a chance at him, too, and that’s what made it so interesting. To her credit, she—and you, Your Magnificence—rose above petty grievances, and showed up for the sake of your son.”

Arching his gray eyebrows, Lorenzo said, “My grievances against Noah are hardly
petty.
He and his Guardians undermined my leadership, and then he leaked the story about Meghina being a Mutati.”

“You have evidence of that, Sire?”

“A gut feeling. Instinct.”

“Mmmm. Interesting. Nevertheless, on a galactic scale, when you view the big picture, the immense societal tides that are flowing as we speak, all such interactions really are
petty.

“I don’t have to keep you around, you know,” Lorenzo said. “You’ve always been rather haughty, and now that I’ve been deposed you have become openly impertinent.”

“I only speak frankly, My Lord, which is what you need at the moment.” The furry little Hibbil bowed. “I have always considered you a friend, and only want what is best for you.”

With a hard stare, Lorenzo nodded and lowered his voice. “I suppose you’re right. Very well, but do not speak to me in that manner when we are in the presence of others. We’ll keep it our little secret, eh?”

The dark red eyes lit up. “Oh yes. I love secrets.” Rubbing his furry chin, Pimyt said, “I wonder if Francella will keep her bargain with you, if she will truly allow you to influence the new Doge. We haven’t heard much from her since the vote and the inauguration.”

“She’s been busy. Don’t worry, Pimyt. Francella and I have a long relationship, and she’ll come through for me, as she promised.”

“I hope you’re right.”

They walked around a robot work crew, then exited the module and strolled down a glax-walled corridor, which offered stunning views of the armored space station modules, profiled against Canopa far below. It was mid-afternoon.

Ducking into an office that had formerly been occupied by General Jacopo Nehr, they closed the door and sat in comfortable side chairs. Pimyt had to hop up on a cushion and arrange pillows behind himself for back support. His uncovered feet dangled over the floor. The new Doge Anton had decided to keep General Nehr on as commander of the Merchant Prince Armed Forces, a decision that undoubtedly had a great deal to do with the fact that Nehr was his father-in-law.

“It will be interesting to see how much of an ally the general remains to us,” Lorenzo said. “When he left, he expressed gratitude for the appointments I gave him, and he promised to always look out for my welfare. But things have changed, and we’ll have to see how it all turns out.”

“Now you’re the worrier,” Pimyt said, with a tight smile. “Jacopo will keep his word. I know this for a fact.”

“And how can you be so sure?”

“That is my business, Sire, to keep such details in line. I have always been good at them, don’t you agree?”

“Without question.” The Doge Emeritus narrowed his eyes. “You almost sound like you have something on him.”

A tight smile behind the salt-and-pepper beard. “I have something on everyone, Sire. Except you, of course.”

“I wonder. Now let’s talk about how to further our interests, and I’m not just talking about financial matters. Politics is in my blood, and always will be.”

“I know that. Well, there is some dissatisfaction among corporate princes about the inauguration of Anton, who was brought to power by his mother and the noble-born, anti-corporate princes. A number of dissatisfied, self-made princes have contacted me, offering to form an alliance with you. They have not forgotten how you always rewarded performance instead of bloodlines.”

“Good,” Lorenzo said, nodding. “Form the alliances, and we’ll build from them. But do not say anything against Doge Anton or Francella. We don’t want our comments coming back to bite us.”

“You are a master of diplomacy, My Lord.”

Since escaping from the medical laboratory, Noah had been playing catch-up, learning about the guerrilla operations that had been undertaken by Subi and Thinker, and the assimilation of thousands of new robots that had formerly been Red Berets.

One morning he stood in a large underground chamber, getting an update from Giovanni Nehr, who wore his customary armor, making him look like a machine-man hybrid. Gio had been assigned to work closely with the new robots. The two of them watched as Jimu inspected hundreds of fighter bots, who stood in formation. While they had been extensively checked and reconditioned, some still had cardinal red markings on their metal bodies, which Noah mentioned.

“I’ll make sure they’re all cleaned off,” Gio said.

“Hmm,” Noah said, nodding, “but I’m more concerned about what’s inside the robots, their programming. An enemy could implant latent operating instructions that are designed to activate at a certain time, or under certain circumstances.”

“That would be a nasty trick.”

“And devastating.”

“Thinker already thought of that, and these robots have passed his rigid tests. He’s checking others now by interfacing with them, and even tearing them down completely.”

“Is he tearing all of them down, or only on a random basis?”

“The latter, Master Noah. Thinker ran probability programs, and he assures us that the likelihood of such problems is infinitesimal.”

“I want all of them torn down anyway. It’s better to be slow and safe.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“Hear me well. I want the probability reduced to
less
than infinitesimal. All of the new robots are to be disarmed and placed under guard until they are fully cleared.”

Gio saluted, and went to inform Jimu of the increased security measures.

That evening, as he had done on a number of occasions since returning to the Guardians, Noah attempted to reenter the cosmic web. In darkness he lay in bed, letting his mind float freely. He felt a slight tugging at his consciousness, and this gave him hope. Was he going back in?

But the sensation dissipated, and afterward he lay awake, wondering what was going wrong. Had he lost his previous powers entirely? And did that suggest he would lose his immortality as well? Most of all, it troubled him that he had not been able to remotely control podships for some time now. The last occasion that he had done it efficiently, without being rejected by the creatures, had been before he recommended drastic measures to the former Doge Lorenzo del Velli, measures that resulted in setting up the deadly pod-killer sensor-guns. Did the creatures know, somehow, that Noah had been responsible?

He had many more questions than answers.

Lorenzo knew he was licking his wounds, but he hadn’t done so poorly in the exchange of his merchant prince leadership role for the life he led now. He was still one of the five wealthiest men in the galaxy, and remained widely respected. Under the new agreement, he had his own powerful paramilitary forces,

Red Berets that had been assigned to protect him for the rest of his life. His space station—with a population now of more than twenty thousand persons—was well-armored, and surrounded by defensive gunships that were always on patrol.

As days passed, the Doge Emeritus formalized his new alliances, and had one brief meeting with Francella Watanabe. She told him, just as he had anticipated, that she had been busy with all of the arrangements involving the new Doge, and she and Lorenzo had to go through what she called a “cooling off period” before the former Doge could get more involved in Anton’s affairs. Biting his tongue and not complaining, Lorenzo accepted her assurances. He was coming to accept the new arrangements, and understood that important political relationships did not always move forward quickly.

Even in his present position, Lorenzo had to be alert against Noah and his Guardians. Their guerrilla attacks and other disruptions had long been a thorn in his side, preventing him from dealing with other pressing problems. He was certain that Noah still wanted to get even with him for taking over the ecology compound, the orbital space station, and planetary recovery operations around the galaxy. All of that, when added to the likelihood that Noah had leaked the story about Meghina being a Mutati, made Lorenzo and Noah natural enemies.

“I’m going to get him before he gets me,” Lorenzo said to Pimyt, during an afternoon meeting, held just before the opening of a new casino expansion module. Behind the stocky, gray-haired man a holo floated, an overview of intelligence reports that had come in on the guerrilla activities of Noah’s Guardians. A timeline with it showed that they had stepped up their attacks against corporate installations on Canopa, though there seemed to be a slight reduction in attacks against government facilities.

“Good strategy,” the Hibbil replied. “We know one thing. With podships cut off, he could not have gone far.”

Now, with assurance from Francella that she would keep Doge Anton in line, Lorenzo instituted a renewed all-out effort to locate Noah’s secret headquarters and annihilate him.

Chapter Sixty-Two

There are certain big events that mark historical turning points. It is invariably possible to look back on them years later and recognize them. For the most momentous events, however, you know them the instant you see or participate in them, the moment they are set into motion.

—Jodie Am’Uss, Official Historian of the Tulyan race

There were particular things that Eshaz could not reveal to the teenage Humans or to the Parvii woman. The full power of Tulyan mindlink was but one of many examples. He didn’t know how he could put that phenomenon into words anyway, because he didn’t fully comprehend how it worked … only that it did.

To discourage military aggression by outsiders, the Tulyans had leaked information that they had a powerful mindlink defensive system, and that certain Elders could actually hitch telepathic rides on comets and meteors, taking them on fantastic trips through space. These were true statements, but mindlink was much more than that. It had dimensions that had not been known to the Tulyans in ancient times when they were defeated by the Parviis, but which had been developed and perfected over the past century and a half. In galactic time, that was not very long ago at all.

It was not known by outsiders that the spectacular nighttime displays of comets and meteors in the starcloud were actually the result of the collective telepathic powers of the Tulyan people, under the guidance of powerful Elders. It was also not known that the Tulyans, considered a pacifist people, could now harness the energy of these cosmic bodies and turn them into weapons.

Previously the Parviis had broken through weak spots in mindlink, and had entered with their swarms, taking control of podships that were being hidden by the Tulyans. For weeks now, Parvii swarms had been gathering outside the starcloud, increasing their strength and trying to find the opportunity to break through again. This time they wanted to take over the seventy podships that Eshaz had brought back, along with the vessel that was under Tesh’s control. But, with the tenuous, perilous condition of the galaxy, and the need for Tulyan caretakers to spread out in greater numbers, the Tulyans could not permit that to happen. They needed
more
podships, not fewer of them. They needed to end the cycle of Tulyan capture and Parvii attack.

The Council of Elders vowed that this time there would be no mindlink lapse, no opening for the relentless enemy to exploit. And for the first time in the history of their race, the Tulyans were going to do something unexpected, going on the offensive with their own telepathic weapon.

At the appointed time, in full daylight, Eshaz left his three alien companions at his home, and climbed alone to a high point of rock that overlooked his property, telling them only that he wanted time for contemplation. Reaching the pinnacle, he closed his eyes and focused all of his mental energies in the manner that the Elders had instructed him to do. In doing this, he, like other Tulyans involved in the effort, were energy boosters for the Elders, who were themselves performing more complex defensive and guidance functions.

They called it a telekinetic weapon.

In the universe of his mind, Eshaz saw the misty starcloud and its three planets, looking as if they were floating in a bath of milk. He felt the energy level rising, and then saw fiery comets and meteors approaching from space as if drawn to a magnet, along with glowing asteroids. At the last moment the celestial visitors veered off and headed for the largest swarm of Parviis, terrifying the tiny creatures and scattering them into space.

Eshaz felt a supreme relaxation of tension, and opened his eyes.

Like an island oasis in the troubled galaxy, the Tulyan Starcloud floated serenely and peacefully in the ethereal mists, as if nothing unusual had occurred at all, just as it had looked since ancient times.

It was the way the galaxy should be, unchanging and constant… eternal. But beneath the surface, beyond what Eshaz could see, he knew that the fabric of existence was shredding.

The Parviis, who had been thwarted in their desire to penetrate the mindlink energy shield, were now dispersed into the frozen void and sent spinning off in confusion, with their morphic field disrupted. As a result they lost contact with Woldn, who had been in their midst and had been controlling their movements.

Their connection to the Eye of the Swarm interrupted, billions of the tiny creatures flew off in all directions. Furious, Woldn dispatched squads to locate them. But when only a small portion of his people returned, it became clear to him that the others had perished, and that his power base had been eroded.

He hoped it was only temporary.

With the Parviis in disarray, the Tulyan Council of Elders sent out more than seventy hunting teams aboard as many podships, to the Hibbil Sector and to galactic sectors far and wide, where the wild podships migrated at this time of year.

Eshaz, having earlier merged with an alpha pod in order to capture an entire herd, piloted the same vessel now. He was the Aopoddae ship and it was him. The spacefaring vessel bore his reptilian face on the front of its hull, and its skin had taken on a scaly, gray-bronze hue.

Inside the passenger compartment stood six Tulyan hunters, anxiously awaiting the opportunity to go to work, to practice the ancient methods of capturing the mysterious, sentient creatures. Acey and Dux were on board with them, but Tesh—at Dabiggio’s insistence—remained back at the Starcloud Visitor’s Center. There had been something of a tug of war between her and the Council through intermediaries, and Tesh had held firm that if she was not permitted to join the hunt she was not going to release control of her podship to anyone. So, it remained sealed and motionless, floating in its docking bay at the starcloud. Through regular truth-touching to verify her motives and allegiances she was declared pure, and by majority vote the Council judged that she had at least earned the respect she was demanding.

But, like all Parviis, she had other information deep in her mind, and knew things that the mortal enemies of her people could never draw out of her. Not unless she told them.…

“Eshaz wants you boys to enjoy yourselves,” said one of the Tulyan hunters in the alpha pod. A squat reptile with an angular grin, he went by the name Viadu. “Old Eshaz says you’re experienced hunters.”

“I wouldn’t go quite that far,” Dux said. “We were just observers the last time out.”

“Well you’re part of the team now, though you can’t go outside and wrangle.”

“Maybe we can,” Dux said. He glanced over at Acey, who was removing articles from a pack he brought along.

“What do you have there?” Viadu asked.

“Just something I put together with spare parts, while I was banging around in the Visitor’s Center. It kept me busy.”

Dux knew what it was. As he and the Tulyans watched, Acey brought out a helmet with a plax face plate, and a green protective suit modeled after the larger Tulyan models, to keep from being drugged or poisoned by thorns. He put the gear on.

Looking at him, the Tulyans laughed.

“Hey,” Acey said, “I’m pretty handy with things, and I really can breathe inside this thing. I tested it. Made one for my cousin, too, but he’s not as brave as I am.”

“Not as
foolhardy,
you mean,” Dux said.

“So, you want to go upstairs, eh?” Viadu said, to Acey.

The young man nodded vigorously, inside his outfit. His voice came through a built-in speaker, sounding thin: “This suit is perfectly sealed, and has oxygen for me to breathe. It’s also thermally protected, since we Humans weren’t born with much insulation.”

“All right, but there are certain things you can’t do, since the pods only respond to telepathy.”

“I just want a front row seat up there,” Acey said.

“All right, but if you get in the way, I’m sending you back down here.”

“Agreed,” the teenager said.

The Tulyans unpacked shipping cases and got into their own protective suits, after which they brought out thorn vines wrapped in broad leaf packages, and other items they would need. One of the Tulyans mixed liquids, powders, herbs, and thorn scrapings in small bowls, then tossed everything into a cauldron and heated it with fire cylinders in the alloy casting. Dux and Acey had seen Eshaz do this before, but they found it no less fascinating now.

Viadu murmured incantations and tossed spheres overhead, which played serene music and then floated down into the cauldron and melted into the boiling liquid. Working fast, the Tulyans filled silver vials with the liquid, then removed their protective suits and smeared pigment rings on their bodies, creating the network of intricate, iridescent designs that they had previously seen Eshaz create.

The Tulyans, slipping into a collective trance, murmured incantations and handled the multicolored thorn vines without protection, wrapping them around their waists and making red crowns for their heads. Bravely, Acey stepped forward, and Viadu wrapped a vine around his protected torso, along with a red-vine crown on his helmet.

Dux began to feel afraid for his cousin, but didn’t say anything. They had already discussed this at length, and Acey would not be deterred. Being more circumspect, Dux thought it was too reckless, but he had tested the oxygen and thermal systems in the two helmets and suits himself, and had assured himself that it all worked. As far as Dux could tell, Acey had done his usual excellent job in putting the gear together.

A few minutes later the podship slowed, and Dux heard the Tulyans saying wild podships had been sighted. Moving quickly, Viadu opened a hatch and leaped outside, pulling Acey with him. The hatch closed quickly behind them. Through a filmy window that formed on the ceiling, Dux saw them standing on top of the sentient spaceship, leaning forward. From listening to the Tulyans, Dux had learned something that reassured him somewhat about Acey’s safety. They said that all podships had protective fields around them, enabling pilots to ride outside, even at high speeds.

Eshaz guided the craft toward the rear of a formation of wild podships, and Dux saw Viadu use thought-commands to fire sedative vials at the creatures, causing them to slow, one by one. The alpha pod, sensing pursuers, turned around to confront them. Eshaz steered straight at him, and Viadu leaped onto the back of the creature, connected the harness, and dug thorn vines into its sides. Soon he merged into the flesh of the podship, and his face appeared on the prow.

Next the other five Tulyans in the hunting party went onto the top of Eshaz’s vessel, one at a time, and in short order they captured five more podships and metamorphosed them into amalgam creatures with Tulyan pilots, while additional hunting teams came in and helped mop up the herd. From a porthole in the passenger compartment Dux watched in astonishment as Tulyans and podships seemed to create another race of hybrid spaceships.

Utilizing methods more mystical than technological, the Tulyans first fought Parvii swarms with comets and meteors and then wrangled more than three hundred additional wild podships, which they returned in short order to the security of the starcloud.

It was a historic day, and a reminder of legendary glories.

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