Empress of Eternity (10 page)

13 Siebmonat 3123, Vaniran Hegemony

Duhyle stood at the ocean wall of the canal, looking out over the patches of late-morning mist that drifted across the low waves of the Jainoran Ocean. There was no sign of anyone who had been on the cargo-sailer. A day after the destruction of the vessel, the sea-canoes and kite-sailers had vanished. The narrow beaches below the western cliffs were empty of all human presence, without any prints in the intermittent patches of sand between the pebbled shingle. Seabirds swooped and landed, and skittered along the edge of the waves. An occasional crab scrabbled sidewise to avoid or to engage the water.

“You won’t see anything, Kavn.” Helkyria stepped up to the ocean wall beside him. “Not yet. Not until just before they decide to attack—if they decide to attack.” She half-turned.

Duhyle heard boots on the stone. He glanced back to see Captain Valakyr and Subcaptain Symra approaching. Both wore professionally grim expressions on faces that might otherwise have been attractive.

“Ser?” offered Valakyr as she stopped a yard from Helkyria. “What have you heard?”

“Outside of the reports of political chaos, the violent demonstrations in Asgard and all across Midgard, the more muted counter-demonstrations in Vaena, the political maneuverings among assistant magistras, the blanket condemnations of Security? Outside of those?” Helkyria’s eyebrows lifted, and highlights of green and dark gray momentarily appeared there, while the tips of her hair darkened into nearly pure black before fading to gray and then resuming their silver-blond hues. Her eyes remained silver.

“Ah…yes, ser,” replied Valakyr.

Symra nodded, the tips of her hair darkening the slight bit that was possible.

“All the Aesyr representatives to the Assembly have left Vaena, and so have the magistras in charge of Environment, Transport, and Finance and Commerce.”

“Those were all the departments headed by Aesyr, weren’t they?” asked Captain Valakyr.

“That’s my understanding.”

“Why the condemnation of Security?” asked Duhyle. “At least half the security companies are primarily Aesyr.”

“The Magistra of Security didn’t deploy those companies.” Helkyria’s voice was dry. “For rather obvious reasons.”

“Some of them might be down there, hidden out of sight.” Valakyr gestured toward the ocean and the empty beaches. “Seventh Company all requested leave at the same time. Major Gemli granted it.”

“What else did she grant? Access to unlimited lethal weapons? Use of company vehicles or government transport?”

“I wouldn’t know, ser.”

“I wouldn’t have thought anyone would go that far, but…these days, who could say?” Helkyria nodded. “If you will excuse me, Captain, Subcaptain, there are matters to which I need attend. Please don’t draw any power from the local net without checking with me or Duhyle first. Let me know if you see any sign of activity from the Aesyr…or anyone else.”

“Yes, ser.”

“I’ll let you know if I hear anything else from Vaena.” Helkyria inclined her head to Duhyle, then turned. He immediately joined her, but did not say anything until they were inside the station and walking up the ramp to her laboratory.

“You’re going to try something with the fermionic entanglement and ghost diffraction imager?” After her earlier reaction to the FEGDI acronym, he wasn’t about to use the term in speaking. He still thought of the odd assemblage of equipment that way.

“Yes. It’s the next logical step beyond implementation of a matching protocol system.”

“You’ve made sense out of those ghost patterns?”

“They’re more like shadow patterns, created by some sort of entanglement. I can use them to open and close the doors and windows without being near them. That’s interesting, but not terribly useful. I need—we need—some way to lock the entries. Beyond that…” The corners of Helkyria’s lips lifted, if for a moment.

“Beyond that?” prompted Duhyle.

“There’s more beyond the stone than meets either the eye or past instrumentation and equipment. The question is whether I can find a way to view and control what else is there. It’s unlikely, but not impossible, that anyone has done so since the station was first used by the early Vanir. Before that, who knows?”

“Isn’t it possible?”

“Possible? Yes. Probable, no. The potential power of the canal is so great that had its secrets been rediscovered and used, it’s unlikely Earth itself would be anything but fragments.”

“Like the Mist Ring?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the two were linked, but right now I have no way to even prove theoretically that is possible. We do know that the Mist Ring constitutes what remains of Earth’s moon, and that ancient tidal patterns confirm that it was an unusually large satellite in comparison to Earth itself, so much so that some scients have doubted those findings.”

“If the science shows it…?”

“Even in those with an education in science, belief can dominate education, facts, and proof. That’s why not all who are educated in science are actually scients.” She laughed. “It’s the same everywhere. Not all who study music turn out to be musicians. Not all students of economics end up as competent economists…If unfounded belief is stronger than discipline and knowledge, then the practitioner is seldom a true professional in the field, whatever that field may be.” She stopped short of the equipment. “It will be a bit before I’ll need your help. Is there anything you need to do?”

“Not now. I do have some biotherm ready.”

“Save it.”

“In a while I’ll need to think about fixing lunch.” Duhyle moved to the second stool and settled onto it.

Helkyria turned her attention to her assembled devices.

Outside the station, the security forces patrolled, watched, and waited.

21 Ninemonth 1351, Unity of Caelaarn

After his short morning meeting with the minister, Maertyn walked to the front of the building toward the small office he retained in the Environment Research Subministry. He stopped outside the office of the assistant minister.

“Is Josef in, Marcent?”

The young-faced aide looked up from his console. “The assistant minister will be out until the twenty-third. He’s touring all the science universities on Conuno that receive Unity Science Grants—the environmental ones.”

“Who’s going to tour the science universities in Occidenta?”

“There are only two that receive grants there.”

Maertyn knew that, but he’d asked the question to make a point.

“Or Galawon?” Maertyn persisted gently.

Marcent did not reply for a moment, then said, “Oh…sir. Assistant Minister Cennen said that you were to use his office while you were here.”

“That was kind of him…or has he given mine to one of his…protégés?” “Protégé” was a polite term for the string of unusually handsome male graduate students on whom Josef lavished special attention…and doubtless more.

“Only until you return permanently, sir. He…well…you don’t return to Caelaarn that often these days.”

“That’s true.” Maertyn smiled politely, then made his way into the assistant minister’s office, a space roughly six yards by eight, overlooking the gardens on the east side of the building. It held a desk with full built-in comm capabilities and a conference table that could be used as either another desk or as part of a remote, full visual and sound, conference facility.

Josef’s absence and the effective reassignment of Maertyn’s office strongly suggested that Assistant Minister Cennen did not believe that one Lord Maertyn S’Eidolon would be returning to his previous position, and that the good assistant minister did not wish to be linked at all closely to Maertyn.

“Not surprising,” he murmured to himself as he settled himself at the small conference table by the window. He really didn’t want to use Cennen’s desk, and he didn’t have to in order to review his presentation, or even to answer any comms that might come his way. He doubted there would be many, and certainly not before all his peers evaluated what happened at his briefing.

He opened the folder. What was so obvious that he had forgotten to explain it? What could he present more effectively? Those questions always helped refine a presentation.

Just before midday, there was a rap on the door, which Maertyn had left slightly ajar. He looked up to see Amirella Lihusan, easily recognizable for her straight gray hair, a result of a gene that couldn’t be modified because it was linked to another defensive gene whose absence would have created an unacceptable risk of a score of different carcinomas or whose modification was impractical, if not impossible. “Amirella!” He rose from the conference table.

“Would you like to join me for lunch?” She smiled. “Or, more properly, might I join you so that we could eat in the junior ministers’ dining room?”

“You’re of deputy assistant minister rank…”

“But not with the title. Besides, it sounds better if I can tell everyone you asked me.”

“You’re incorrigible.” He walked to the door and stepped out to join her.

“With what I do, how else could I be?”

“I am hungry.”

“Good.”

They walked out of the assistant minister’s suite and into the corridor that led to the ramp. Maertyn could sense Marcent’s eyes on his back.

The junior ministers’ dining salon was located on the second level in the middle of the front section of the building, overlooking both the narrow line of greenery and the car park.

“Lord Maertyn…it’s good to see you back,” offered a woman in a dark gray and formfitting singlesuit.

“A corner booth, if you please, Cariena.” Maertyn noted the increasing warmth of the hostess’s professional smile at the use of her name.

“I think we can manage that. This way…”

The two followed the hostess to the booth in the farthest window corner on the east. They had barely settled into the natural green leather of the booth when a server appeared.

“Might I get you something to drink?” Her smile was polite and solicitous.

“A glass of white shiraz,” replied Amirella.

“Just iced tea, please, unsweetened,” said Maertyn.

“The day’s menu is on the sheets. I’ll be back with your drinks and take your selections.”

Maertyn nodded and picked up the single thin flexible sheet and scanned the options. Every morning, each sheet was fed through the repermer with the new menu. Most sheets lasted close to a year before they had to be recycled.

“What will you have?” he asked.

“The quail. You?”

“The pheasant. The biologics up north are mostly limited to lamb and beef and chicken. Not enough people to support a full-scale bio-replication facility. I also like the fact that the wild rice is actually marsh-grown.”

“It’s a bit…wild…for me.”

The server eased up to the table and set the goblet of clear wine before Amirella and the tall glass of tea before Maertyn. Amirella ordered first, then Maertyn, and in moments they were alone at the table again.

“How have things been with you?” asked Maertyn.

“In what I do very little changes.” She smiled mischievously. “I understand you’re giving a presentation on your research on the canal to all those in the Ministry—at the level of deputy assistant minister and above. All those in science and not staff positions, that is.”

“Except for my own superior. He’s out touring the science universities in south Conuno.”

“Just far enough away to be unavailable and close enough to return in a hurry, if necessary.”

“You’d think that of the honorable Josef Cennen?”

“I think worse of him than I’ll ever say. What would you say?”

“I’d say that his behavior is excessively prudent.”

Amirella laughed.

Maertyn couldn’t help smiling.

“How’s Maarlyna?”

“Better. The quiet is good for her. She’s not looking forward to returning to Caelaarn. I think she’s counting the days with trepidation.”

“I can understand that,” Amirella said sympathetically, then paused before going on. “What can you tell me about your research? In simple terms. I’m a numbers person, not a researcher.”

“I noted from temperature reports and scattered observations that the temperature around the canal was never as extreme as in the adjoining areas. Also, the temperature of the stone never varies no matter how much sun strikes it or how much ice piles on the north side—except it doesn’t stay piled there. It builds up right behind it and then topples over it and into the water. In simple terms, I’m trying to find out why.”

“Are you having much success?”

“I’ve found out a few new things about the canal. Some suggest possibilities, but I haven’t yet figured out how to devise the follow-on experiments to investigate or quantify them.”

“That’s very cautious…”

At that moment, the server arrived with their meals.

Over the rest of lunch Maertyn steered the conversation away from specifics, and Amirella was kind enough not to object. They went their separate ways from the salon, and Maertyn wondered exactly why she’d asked for him to take her to lunch. He’d have to keep that in mind while he was in Caelaarn.

All too soon, it approached two in the afternoon, and Maertyn made his way back to the minister’s conference room with the long table that could seat close to thirty. When he entered, he smiled politely as he tallied those present—a “mere” sixteen, without Hlaansk.

“It’s good to see you, Maertyn,” offered Daelaz Cuivot, the Assistant Minister for Transportation Research. “Is it as cold as they say up there?”

“Colder…especially when the icebergs are calving and they drift south. Or when the deep winter winds blow.” Maertyn set the portfolio he would not need in front of the empty chair at the foot of the table, the space always reserved for the one doing the briefing, but he did not seat himself, knowing what would come next.

As he expected, the side door from the minister’s suite opened, and Hlaansk stepped into the room, nodded to all those at the table, and seated himself at the end with his back to the west window, darkened to reduce the light and glare coming into the room. Then he looked toward Maertyn. “If you would begin, Lord Maertyn?”

“Thank you, Minister.” Maertyn paused for a moment, then raised his voice. “For those of you who have not read the initial précis of the project and for those of you who have been so inundated by the demands of your own responsibilities that your recollections may have blurred, I’ll summarize the rationale for the project. Analysis of current and historic temperature reports and scattered observations over more than a century before systematic reporting indicated that the temperature around the midcontinent canal was never as extreme as in the adjoining areas. More intriguing was the fact that the surface temperature of the stone never varied regardless of the intensity of solar radiation or the lack of such during the depth of winter…”

From there Maertyn went on to describe his initial baseline research, which included localized directed laser and high-energy bombardment of the stone in contained areas, as well as temperature and pressure reductions in the air or in other substances in direct contact with the stone. “…not only was the surface totally unmarred by these, but there was never any variation in surface temperature, even for milliseconds. After confirming these facts, the project moved into the second phase…the investigation of possible control and temperature stabilization methodologies…”

After speaking technically, and slightly elliptically, several minutes more, he finished quickly. “…and that is where the project stands at this moment.” Maertyn inclined his head. “I’ll be happy to take any questions.” He wasn’t all that pleased to take questions, suspecting what might well be coming, but there wasn’t any help for that.

Vergena Stett, the Deputy Assistant Minister for Research Applications, whom Maertyn recalled as an anal nitpicking scientocrat, smiled brightly and said, “As I understand it, Deputy Assistant Minister, your original proposal was to determine whether the specific properties of the midcontinent canal did in fact retard or eliminate the purported advancement of glaciation and, if that could be demonstrated, whether there was any way to replicate that effect. Is that a fair statement of the goals of your research?”

“That was what I offered a few minutes ago. Your restatement is a fair summary,” Maertyn admitted.

“That’s all you have to say?”

Hlaansk frowned, but did not speak.

“Those were essentially the goals I advanced.”

“I may be missing a critical point here, Deputy Assistant Minister,” persisted Stett, “but if the point of the research is to find ways to duplicate the effect of the midcontinent canal, why has the focus of your research shifted from that to the purported control systems, when, so far as you have indicated, there is no linkage between the control systems in the station and the properties of the canal itself?”

“I apologize, Deputy Assistant Minister Stett. I had thought the linkage was explicit. By the fact that the material comprising the station is the same material comprising the canal and by the fact that it responds to human intent, and only to a limited human intent, it appears highly likely that the same control mechanisms apply to both. Since the material cannot be moved or manipulated—except through those controls—it would appear that the key to duplicating and using the properties of the canal lies in mastering the control systems.”

“How likely is your research to discover the basis of the system?” That question came from Alaser Fancoyn, the Assistant Minister for Protective Services Research.

Maertyn allowed a wry smile to cross his face. “If I knew the answer to that question, Assistant Minister, we’d be more into application than research. So far as I’ve been able to determine, no earlier research has actually separated human touch from human intent. That is promising. That’s all I can say at this point.”

A flurry of questions followed.

“Assuming you indeed discover the basis of this so-called effect, wouldn’t the wide-scale implementation have disturbing environmental effects?”

“Aren’t you concerned that, if you are successful, you may change the properties of the canal and create other difficulties, either geologically or climatically?”

“Your description of your next steps was sketchy at best, to say the least. Could you give a more detailed description of how you plan to proceed from here?”

“Have you been able to measure or discern any radiation or form of signaling from within the canal structure or the station that suggests how the station measures, as you call it, ‘intent’?”

“While your findings are certainly the most detailed involving the canal, and indeed fascinating, are the goals of this project not rather fanciful and far-reaching?”

“Do you honestly believe this is a worthwhile expenditure of Unity funds at a time of financial hardship?”

After another twenty-five minutes, Minister Hlaansk rose. “I think we’re seeing rephrasing of questions that Deputy Assistant Minister Maertyn has already addressed. I thank all of you for coming and for your insightful questions.”