Nanomech
“I won’t give out that information,” Aiben said. He interlaced his fingers tightly on the tabletop. It was all he could do to keep them from shaking. “But it will destroy Nograth’s mental abilities. You must also know that only I can use it. I hardwired it to my genetics. For anyone else, it’ll be nothing more than a lump of inert nanomechs.”
“Do you really intend to use this thing on your brother? You can’t be persuaded otherwise?” Yoren-dal asked what the others wouldn’t. It was a vain question, but they had to hear him confirm it.
Until he answered, no one on the council would support him any longer as their Hegirith. If he took full responsibility himself, they wouldn’t lose any of their own precious moral substance by allowing it. It was his choice and they couldn’t stop him. That would be just as bad as doing it themselves. Therefore, they remained neutral and would go on as before. Such was the Haman way.
“I’ll take the condemnation of our people upon myself alone,” Aiben said.
“I hope we’ll live long enough to make that judgment for ourselves, Hegirith.”
Aiben snapped back into the viewpoint of the observer. The Iniri-ki Hegirith nodded poignantly at Yoren-dal’s comment. The council members must have taken this to be their signal that the conversation had ended. Each one rose from the halved tree, clasped arms with their leader, and then departed through a doorway that had appeared at the far end of the room of thatched branches.
Only Yoren-dal and one of the women remained behind. They gathered around him. Without knowing how, Aiben understood that these two were the ones the Hegirith confided in most.
Aiben studied the beautiful face of the woman. Right away, he could see the striking resemblance in her features to the Jerekiel that had brought him through the forest. She wasn’t simply an older version of the Keazil as Oand-ib was of Yoren-dal, but there were definite similarities, like an ancestor and her descendant might have. The woman hadn’t spoken at all during the earlier exchange, but Aiben remembered she was the one who hadn’t been surprised by the revelation of im shalal.
“What’s the news of our brothers, Yoren-dal?”
The young Oand-ib steadied himself with a deep breath. “The Nograthi’aak are already on the move.”
“How much longer before they arrive at homeworld?” There was neither fear nor surprise in the Hegirith’s voice.
“It’s hard to tell, really. They’re not coming by direct route. They’re jumping portals almost randomly, but their intent is clear.”
“Then I did the right thing by calling this meeting sooner than later,” the Hegirith said. Then as if something had just occurred to him, he turned to the woman. “You weren’t surprised by my confession of im shalal, Jerekiel. Why?”
“Because we’ve run out of time for a solution that would keep our hands clean of Nograthi’aak blood; and because I know you, Tulan. I know you would see this as your last hope. You’re doing what you believe you have to do. What I would’ve done if I were you.” Jerekiel bowed her head. Here among themselves, Aiben knew she cared less for moral appearances, nonetheless she couldn’t bring herself to meet Tulan’s eyes with the hubris of her last statement.
“And you already knew about im shalal before this meeting, didn’t you?”
“My sources confirm that Nograth isn’t with the advancing fleet. I’m sure Yoren-dal can confirm that as well. You already expected this, obviously. I have been away for a while, Tulan’kim, but don’t think that means you can hide something like this from me.”
The Hegirith smiled at her, but his voice was heavy. “Yes, I knew Nograth would hold back from the final battle. Even his pride doesn’t assure him that the Nograthi’aak will win. He may very well know what I plan to do. At the very least, he suspects it as you did.”
“There’s one more thing you should know,” Yoren-dal said. “They’ve discovered I’m not Nograthi’aak. They know, Iniri’ki Hegirith, who I really am. I was lucky to make it back this time.”
“Then our suspicions are proven. We have a mole in our midst. Who is it? Do you know?”
“I do,” Yoren-dal said. His forehead creased. “All of the information I have points to Selat.”
“Selat? That can’t be. Are you sure it is Selat? He’s one of our most trusted council members.”
“I’m sure.”
Tulan sighed deeply; his eyes were facets of sadness and disappointment. “How have the great Haman fallen so far from their places of glory? I should never have let Nograth split the Consciousness.”
“You had no choice,” Jerekiel said.
“I was the leader of our people! I didn’t stop them then, and now we pay the price. Now I’ll have to rectify it with im shalal.”
“I have Selat under constant watch. Shall I have him detained?” Yoren-dal nodded towards the door through which the other council members had just departed.
Aiben tried to remember how Selat had looked, but since the man hadn’t said anything during the meeting, he hadn’t paid much attention to him.
“No, we’re moments away from what could be the destruction of our entire race and Nograth has already decided not to be here. I’m sure Selat will find a way not to be here either. Our main concern is where my brother is hiding and when he’ll come out.”
“Yes, maybe Nograth’s lap dog will lead us to him,” Yoren-dal said.
“If he won’t come to us, then we’ll find him and stop him ourselves,” Jerekiel agreed.
Such bold statements. They ran counter to the beliefs Tulan had tried to instill in his followers for generations. He knew it was hypocritical, but each of them had come to accept the reality of their situation. That day, at the Splitting of the Consciousness, the greater part of Tulan’s utopian ideals for the Haman had died. When not in council with these two, Tulan still struggled to convince the other Haman that those ideals lived on. Now to compound the quiet lie, he had forced himself to break their most basic tenet of non-aggression with im shalal.
“Yet, I fear even if Selat were to lead us to him now, it still wouldn’t be in time to prevent this. But if I stay here and fight, our chances are that much better to survive.” Tulan dug into the folds of his cloak and produced a data-etched crystal. He gave it to Yoren-dal who accepted it with a puzzled frown.
“This is a precise mapping of my genetic code. I won’t put it into your head. Someone may find it too easily. I entrust it to you, my friend. The crystal also contains all the knowledge we possess on the hazarat shal.”
Yoren-dal stared at the crystal in his unsteady hand, his brows quivering. The irony of the role reversal was not lost on Aiben. Next, Tulan picked up im shalal from the table and handed it to Jerekiel. She hesitated at first, but slowly took it, like it were a thing of great taboo.
“I need you to keep im shalal safe, Jerekiel’kim. Guard it with your life. Entrust it to no one else. Remember, no one can use it without my genetic code. Only I can kill my own brother.”
Jerekiel took a small step back, stumbled, as if the Hegirith’s words had struck her across the face. She was looking intently into Tulan’s eyes, her own revealing the shock at the responsibility he was leaving her. She swallowed hard and nodded.
“If I survive the Nograthi’aak attack, Jerekiel, return to me with im shalal. I’ll find my brother at that time and do what I must. If I don’t survive, Nograth will continue his conquest, and you must both be ready to stop him. Yoren-dal, use the hazarat shal to bring me back.”
Yoren-dal clasped right hand in left, brought it to his chest, and bowed his head in the utmost gesture of respect among the Haman. He was trembling.
“Go, before it’s too late. Don’t go together. Go your separate ways, but make sure you plan to meet again if the outcome is bad.” Tulan held up his hand to stay Yoren-dal’s response. The young image of Oand-ib bit back his words. “Don’t say anything more, my friend. I don’t want to hear anything that may need to be torn from my thoughts.”
Yoren-dal and Jerekiel exchanged anxious, fearful loo
ks. Yoren-dal nodded, and then clasped arms with Tulan. He bowed deeply to show his great respect for the man.
“I do not judge you, Iniri’ki Hegirith. I am just as soiled with the sin of all this, if not more.” Then to Jerekiel, he said, “I will wait for you outside.” She nodded, and Tulan’s trusted friend and pupil hurried from the room.
Jerekiel rushed towards Tulan. He caught her in his arms and held her for a long moment before she pushed away. Tears filled her eyes and glistened in the sourceless light. They kissed, hugged one more time, and then she too left as fast as she could.
They had left Aiben alone with the hooded man in the room of thatched greenery. Tulan turned to look at him for the first time. Aiben had the distinct feeling that he was watching himself, watch himself. Tulan pushed aside his hood to reveal the face beneath it. It was a mirror reflecting the future. The face that had been in shadow was his own, somewhat older, but still his own. Then, as if the Hegirith were running towards him, their perspectives crashed into one another.
It was a rapid, dizzying flip-flop of conscious thought followed by a melding of minds. When it was all over, only Aiben remained in the room. He now knew who he was. Nograth had returned, Oand-ib had used the hazarat shal, and he was here to find im shalal. The pain in his arm had disappeared.
CHAPTER 19
Corag-mar, Golani’aaki Keazil, gnawed off a sliver of dirty fingernail and ejected it in a gob of spit. He spoke with a crooked smile, broken up by a gaping hole where a knocked-out tooth had once been.
“So, you’re saying if I lead you to where the Neilemi’aak are holed up, you’ll give me money?”
“That’s what I’m saying.” Gormy exposed the chiseled points of his own teeth, but there was no smile behind it.
“You’re going to pay me to do something your Zenzani bosses demand of you without payment? And I’m not supposed to be suspicious of that?”
“Exactly.” Gormy’s eyes slanted in a gesture other Chibbi’s would have understood as cautious agreement. Unlike the block-headed military types, Gormy understood the value of securing assets without undue force. If he had to add some incentive, he would. Money was not the issue anyway, success was.
Right after the renegades had destroyed Gormy’s warmech, a burst of feedback over the uplink had dropped him from the satellite network for over a local hour. When he had regained access and reestablished his virtual view of Mora Bentia’s landscape, he hadn’t been able to locate the Protectorate General’s man or any of his companions within a two hundred square mile radius of their crash site. Still, he had his suspicions where they had gone.
Gormy had recognized the leader of the Neilemi’aak and her men with his quarry during the battle. He suspected the crash site had drawn the native rebels to it while they were out on patrol and that they were now harboring the three fugitives in one of their hidden warrens. The Chibbi’s only recourse had been to continue on to Abri Mor, where he had to enlist the leader of the Golani’aak to help him.
For now, he would be generous and attach some compensation for the help. The natives were always more congenial that way. The military never understood that. Gormy would save the blackmail for later when he would need it.
Out of the five clans, only the Golani’aak had sworn their allegiance to the Zenzani when the Protectorate had occupied Mora Bentia. They had hoped this would put them in a position to dominate the other clans, decades of strife already having estranged them from the others. The Golani’aak soon found out, however, that the price they had paid wasn’t worth the benefit they had received. Everyone knew the Golani’aak were little more than Protectorate lapdogs and they had never gained any substantial control over the other clans.
In time, their loyalty had become sporadic at best, especially during the past year. The Golani’aak weren’t in open rebellion against the Protectorate like the other clans, but they took advantage of their overlords whenever they could. Gormy knew about more than a few instances of treason on Corag-mar’s part alone.
“And why shouldn’t I just take your money and then kill you? Got an answer for that ratty?” Corag-mar signaled two men who stood behind Gormy. They cinched up to either side of the Chibbi, one snorting out his nose, the other licking his lips loudly.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Gormy admonished the Golani’aaki Keazil. A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat. “You see, I work for the Moolag and he doesn’t like the natives messing with his business like that. You know what I mean?”
“Well, that’s just my point exactly, isn’t it boys?” Corag-mar took in his men with a bemused expression. “We don’t always agree with who the governor employs around here.”
Meaty heads bobbed in agreement and there was another snicker, but Corag-mar sliced his hand through the air, forcing the man to gulp down a second one.
“That’s good to know.” Gormy flexed his gun hand, several knuckles cracking, and a smile now crept behind those pointy teeth. “I thought the occasional scraps the governor already threw your way for tidbits of information were enough to buy your loyalty anytime we needed it. My offer of payment was just a bonus.”
Both the Chibbi’s cutting remark and his threatening gesture got him the exact reaction he had wanted. Corag-mar flashed the signal to attack. The Keazil’s men started to move quickly, but he hadn’t survived in the service of the Moolag by being slow, or by being stupid. Corag-mar didn’t seem to know there were members of his clan who were greedy enough to divulge their secret battle sign language for a modest amount of currency. He had read the very same signal as his attackers.
Before Corag-mar’s men could even lay a hand on Gormy, his prehensile tail looped around the calf of the snickering one and pulled him off his feet. The man got the edge of Gormy’s boot pressed against his neck as he tried to regain his feet. The other thug crumpled over from the thrust of an elbow into his gut. Gormy’s fist came up to crack the man on the jaw as he doubled over, knocking him out cold. His free hand whisked out his energy pistol and thumbed the activation stud. He pointed the weapon at Corag-mar, all the while the serrated smile still on his face.
“Should I go ahead and shoot you now, or are we going to talk money after all?”
Corag-mar laughed. It was the gurgle of a man being throttled while drinking. He waved his hands wildly, and in what was either a very brave, or a very stupid move, he pushed aside the muzzle of Gormy’s pistol with an outstretched finger. “Now, now, no need to get excited ratty. Let’s talk about the money, of course.”
Gormy removed his boot from Corag-mar’s lackey and the man lumbered to his feet. He started to posture, two large hairy brows scrunched into a sour frown, but Corag-mar waved him off angrily. The man hesitated for a second before he grabbed his companion under the arms and dragged him out of the room, the soles of his boots screeching on the tiled floor.
Corag-mar beckoned for Gormy to follow him from the foyer where the confrontation had taken place into his private offices in the back. Unlike Mora Bentia’s other four clan leaders, who were scattered and hidden in the countryside with their people, Corag-mar and his clan had dug into some old abandoned offices in the lower levels of one of Abri Mor’s old garrison complexes.
The Keazil’s office was drab and sparse and smelled like mildew. Corag-mar guided Gormy to an oversized leather chair in the corner, which someone had covered with incongruous patches, and persuaded him to sit by offering a glass of very expensive and fermented yala juice. Gormy accepted it and sipped so as not to burn his tongue with the spicy sweetness. He peered at Corag-mar through slitted eyes from the old but comfortable chair.
“Listen friend, forgive my rudeness back there. I just had to make sure you meant business, you know?” Corag-mar leaned back in the other chair in the room, a rickety lump of upholstered wood, and threw his feet onto a warped and splintering desktop. Behind him, the foggy depths of Abri Mor pattered drops of dirty rain against a smoky glass window. “Now how m
uch are we talking about anyway?”
***
Nairom’s eyes sparkled like particles of sunlit dust. Voices crackled from somewhere inside his head, where no one else could hear them. His nanomechs had wrapped him in a cocoon of artificial reality and fooled his senses with the combined audio and video signals of a conversation occurring between two beings several hundred feet below him. This was possible because his own molecular machines were communicating with nanomechs that he had used to spike Gormy’s food at the Moolag’s mansion.
Moments after ingestion, the little machines had lodged themselves in Gormy’s auditory canals, larynx, and optical nerves. Essentially, the nanomechs in Nairom’s own eyes and ears were working to convince him that he was the one conversing with Corag-mar. Despite the immersion in Gormy’s perspective, Nairom wasn’t very interested in the plans of the two reprehensible individuals. He wasn’t concerned with how the Chibbi would find Aiben, nor did he care about the price the ratty was willing to pay for it. Nairom just wanted Aiben found and lured to him. His plan depended on it.
The exchange had gone on for some time now and Nairom let the negotiations play out before him as his thoughts wandered back to the original confrontation with the Moolag and his henchman. Nairom thought he had done a brilliant job of playing the Protectorate general who needed their help to capture Aiben and his band of fugitives.
If that had been his actual plan, he wouldn’t have required outside help to do it. Nairom knew the lockout code to Mora Bentia’s hyperportal and could have used it to establish a cyberlink with Aiben and pinpoint his friend’s exact location at any time. However, if he did it that way, there would be no reason for Aiben to trust him, especially if Oand-ib had suspected his betrayal and warned Aiben. Ballis would be the most suspicious of his motives, so he would also need to convince their former mentor that his actions were done in good faith.
Only Aiben could secure the device that would kill Magron and he had to convince them to trust him long enough to be there when Aiben retrieved it. Gormy’s hunt would provide Nairom the opportunity to gain that trust.