Nanomech

  “No.” He turned back to the ensign who was tracking the ship with his finger again. “Tell those fighter pilots to continue their pursuit. Make it clear to them that they’re not to destroy that ship, only make it look like they want to.”

  “Yes, sir.” The man shook his head, but opened a channel nonetheless and began speaking in pilot’s code through a headset.

  Nairom had no way of knowing if Aiben possessed the code that he had given Oand-ib to enable hypertransit to Mora Bentia. If the situation forced Aiben to use it now, however, it would put the entire fleet on premature alert. Nairom had to let them get through the blockade, despite the questions of his officers.

  “Captain Desik?” Nairom called a third man on deck.

  A stocky, balding officer, who wore polished shoes, creased pants, and wispy eyebrows, stepped up beside the general and nodded. This man smelled more like career military. He had done the job of pressing his uniform himself instead of using chemicals.

  “Start the pre-flight sequence for my fighter and have weapons control plant a tracker on that ship. I’ll be leaving the Ma’acht Vor for an indefinite period of time to pursue them.” He eyed the captain, but wasn’t sure if he was trying to judge the man’s loyalty, or trying to see how the man judged his.

  “Yes, sir.” A small bead of sweat coagulated and hung on the bulwark of the captain’s furry brow. “And when his Lordship returns, General, what should I tell him of your absence?”

  He doesn’t like me to single him out like this, Nairom thought.

  “Selat Teeloo will take care of informing him.”

  Captain Desik nodded vigorously and flung the small globule of sweat from his face.

  Seconds before Raatha’s appropriated ship entered hyperspace, a small projectile sped forth from the Ma’acht Vor on an intercept vector. Using new Zenzani infiltration and stealth technology, it penetrated the freighter’s shields and attached itself to the hull of the escaping ship. It began to transmit data on an encrypted frequency that would be mistaken for regular background radiation if picked up. In the cramped cockpit of a customized Zenzani fighter, General Nairom smiled at the incoming transmissions and kicked up the burn of his thrusters. They propelled him into the hyperportal after the signal.

   

  CHAPTER 9

  As Aiben guided Raatha’s freighter along the gravity curvatures bending space down the hyperportal’s gullet, Lev-9 explained to Ballis why it had been so urgent for the cybermancer to flee Besti. Oand-ib had confided the greater part of Aiben’s mission to him and it had been his task to make sure the halath escaped from the planet now mantled by war.

  Ballis turned every so often from the pilot’s console to look at Aiben over his shoulder. Thoughts of Oand-ib’s plans for the inexperienced boy sculpted the ex-soldier’s scarred face like a lump of clay. It transformed from surprise, to disbelief, to anger. When the mechanoid finished his oratory, he excused himself and ambled from the cockpit to see what supplies Raatha’s ship offered them.

  Ballis extracted himself from the safety webbing of the pilot’s couch and sank into the unoccupied chair across from Aiben at the engineer’s station. Aiben pulled his mind from the hyperportal’s cyberlink, having inserted their ship into hyperspace and set it on a safe course. He invited Ballis into a conversation with questioning eyes.

  “If I’d known the trouble you were going to get me into today…” A crooked smile tugged on one corner of his mouth, though his voice shook slightly. “So you’re the only one who can get us to the Cybermancer Guild’s weapon that’s supposed to stop Magron?”

  Aiben nodded.

  “The mech said the place is called Mora Bentia?”

  “Lev-9.”

  “Right, Lev-9. Never heard of the place.”

  “Me neither. I was able to locate the system on the hypernet, and I have the code to activate the hyperportal when we get there, but that’s it. We’re on course for the planet already.”

  “How do we get this weapon of yours?” Ballis leaned back and weaved his fingers behind his head. His easy posture didn’t mean he wasn’t serious, though. Aiben knew Ballis would approach this from a tactical standpoint. He would weigh the pros and cons of the situation and assess the risk if he stayed with them.

  “There’s a bunch of conflicting and fragmented memories inside my head and somewhere in between them are the instructions. It sounds pitiful, I know, but I’m not quite sure just yet.” He didn’t want to tell the entire truth of Oand-ib’s plan, at least what he had been able to piece together so far from the knotted up memories threading their way through his own thoughts. He was still trying to convince himself to believe it all.

  “OK,” Ballis scratched the back of his head, “how does it work then?”

  “I don’t know that yet either.” He searched through the splinters of information Oand-ib had scattered in his thoughts. That was the complete truth. He tapped his head with a finger. “It’s got to be up here somewhere. When I get the jigsaw puzzle put together, I’m sure it’ll make more sense.”

  “I sure hope you figure it out before planet-fall. Is the Cybermancer Guild really convinced this weapon can stop Magron Orcris? It all just sounds pretty speculative and a little too simple, doesn’t it?”

  “The Guild’s convinced and Oand-ib wouldn’t have lied to me,” Aiben said, then averted his eyes. “Not at the peril of his own life.”

  “And you’re alright with what they expect you to do?” Ballis’s voice softened.

  Aiben stumbled for words. “He trusted me to do it.”

  Besides, who else is going to do it if I don’t?

  “Don’t be too anxious to do something that could get you killed.”

  Aiben had spent his entire life training with Hegirith Oand-ib to learn the secrets of the cybermancers and their molecular machines. He had never known his real parents, having lived with the other halath’hi at the Citadel until he was old enough to begin his tutelage with the Hegirith. Oand-ib and the Cybermancer Guild had dictated his life ever since he could remember. Now he knew why.

  “Don’t you think I can handle it?” Aiben’s eyes narrowed, but he wasn’t so much angry at Ballis as he was at the plot that had taken over his life.

  “Look, a lot of good kids died in my command during the Nor Joon uprisings. Most of them thought they could handle it too. The ones that really became heroes that day were the ones that escaped only because they had years of hard-earned experience and more than their share of luck.”

  “I understand the risk, Ballis, but what choice do you have when your world is at war?” Aiben leaned forward and gripped the arms of his flight couch white-knuckled. His arm twinged, his jaw set.

  “Not much choice at all,” Ballis sighed. The fire in his eyes began to dim from past poignancies.

  “Then I have to do it. Listen, I have spent my whole life training to be a cybermancer. Hegirith Oand-ib was planning for this day to come. He was preparing me for it.” Sudden dread welled up in the pit of his stomach when he heard the truth of his own words. He rubbed his face with a trembling hand.

  “I hope you’re right about that. I hope Oand-ib taught you everything you need to know.”

  “He did. I’m sure he did,” Aiben said.

  Hot tears began to pool in the corners of his eyes, but he restrained them. The entire future of the Seven Guilds and the lives of countless hundreds of billions hung around his neck like a lodestone. That, and the thought of his anab’s trust in him, forced him to draw in a sharp breath. He let it out slowly and felt his face flush. He would have to be stronger if he were to accomplish this mission. There was too much at stake to falter.

  He wouldn’t forget, that in a matter of hours, Magron Orcris had managed to destroy his life. There had been the sacrifices of those he loved; Oand-ib, his mentor and surrogate father, Nairom, the closest thing he had to a brother, Achanei, the woman who had given him new purpose. He couldn’t let those sacrifices be in vain.

  Ba
llis opened his mouth to continue the lecture, but closed it silently when he saw Aiben’s face.

  Aiben looked away. He can see I’m embarrassed for feeling weak.

  At that moment, Lev-9 returned to the cockpit from his inspection. The sound of his feet slapping against the metal deck cut into the awkward silence. Ballis vacated the engineer’s flight couch for Lev-9 and cinched himself back in at the pilot’s station. Before either of the men could say anything more, the mechanoid launched into a detailed account of the supplies they had aboard. Aiben tried to pay attention, but mental exhaustion ambushed him and the monotonous rhythm of the mechanoid’s voice ticking off the particulars lulled him to sleep.

  Aiben opened his eyes to the smell of honey flowers and the sound of exultant insects buzzing past his ear. He was sitting in a garden so green and lush that when he closed his eyes to try to make it go away, the image remained burned on his retinas as a halo of orange light. When he opened them again, the auburn glow solidified back into emerald flora.

  Delicate ferns knit a wall of leaves encircling him, and a cap of thick branches canopied his head. Yet light shone as bright as day in the small fortress of foliage. As he scrutinized his surroundings more carefully, he could see little shocks of blue flowers that punctured the greenery. Small golden-red insects orbited them, some even trembling in mid-flight as they inserted a proboscis in search of sweetness. It seemed familiar, yet strange to him.

  He struggled to make his thoughts coherent. He remembered being aboard Raatha’s ship. He must have fallen asleep while fleeing the invasion of Besti. He couldn’t remember anything past that. Had they already arrived on Mora Bentia? Had he slept through the entire journey? Where were Ballis and Lev-9? How did he end up in this cave of leaves?

  “Iniri’ki Hegirith, I’m sorry…” A man’s voice stabbed him from behind, and he gave a start. It was in his thoughts, very audible and agitated. He twisted around, and a cloaked figure in shimmering gray-green robes, head covered by a hood, parted the ferns, and stepped into the clearing. He couldn’t see the man’s face, but something in his voice and presence hinted at recognition.

  Still disoriented, Aiben could only stare at the man who swept past him and sat down in the thick grass. He wasn’t alone. Four others had also appeared out of nowhere. They were clad in similar cloaks, heads covered, and sat to either side, forming up a circle. Aiben thought about closing his eyes again, and even shaking his head, but he knew neither would erase the vision. He suspected the memory of shalal hiliz had caught him up once again.

  “Ah, Yoren-dal, thank you for coming to join us.”

  A voice fluttered in the minds of those gathered, including Aiben’s mind. He recognized it was Tulan’s, the man from his first experience with shalal hiliz in Oand-ib’s chamber, the man now in his memories. That voice was so very familiar to him and he fought to grasp why.

  “Where you lead, Iniri’ki Hegirith, I will follow.” Yoren-dal slid his hood down to reveal a young and vigorous face.

  Hegirith Oand-ib! Then he is still alive and guiding my memories! He must be linking with me again. Why had Tulan called him Yoren-dal?

  Tulan breached their minds again. Aiben stopped to listen. He could talk with his anab later now that he knew he was still alive.

  “It’s only been a short decade since the schism of minds, but Nograth’s battleships have continued to traverse the wormholes our hyperportals burrow into space. Worlds have fallen to the technologically superior might of the Nograthi’aak. My brother has used his insidious version of shalal hiliz to enslave those he conquers.”

  Tulan’s words conjured up images Aiben would rather not have reside in his thoughts.

  “These are cold, historical facts, but I hope you let them spurn you to suggest solutions. I don’t have any good answers of my own how to stop my brother’s iniquitous lust for a Haman Empire, but we need to do something to prevent the further proliferation of Nograth’s ideals and power.”

  “The only way to oppose the Nograthi’aak is to be there to engage them when they bring unconquerable battleships and invincible weapons to lesser-advanced worlds to subjugate them. We must be the buffer against their domination.” Other voices agreed with Kemdel, one of the four in the circle who had spoken.

  How do I know this man’s name?

  “No!” Tulan said. “Haven’t I always said our powers should be used to serve others, not to force them? How can we abide by that most basic of tenets if we take up arms against our own people? Besides, we have no real weapons or battle fleets in comparison to theirs. They have invested their time and energy in war where we have not. Wouldn’t such an undertaking be to our destruction? How can we help others escape the Nograthi’aak if we let ourselves be destroyed by foolishness?”

  “A more prudent solution would be to help others defend themselves against the Nograthi’aak without the necessity of our presence.” Yoren-dal tipped his insight into the stream of flowing minds.

  “I agree, Yoren-dal, but how do you propose we do this?” Tulan questioned him. “Even if we were to equip these defenders with our most advanced technology, they would never have an edge over the Nograthi’aak. The Consciousness that Nograth controls is strong enough to decimate the resistance of any weak mind.”

  “Then we won’t rely on technologies of war alone. They must also be given the ability to use their minds to gather strength.”

  A ripple of agreement radiated around Yoren-dal’s thoughts, but the swell was perturbed, troubled. Tulan knew why.

  “What you suggest to the Tulani’aak, Yoren-dal, could be as ground shattering as the initial argument between my brother and I about the morality of our position in the galaxy. I fear this idea could blossom into another debate that might split apart the Tulani’aak even further. If I were to oppose your idea, our disagreements might never make it possible for us to come together in unison to defeat the Nograthi’aak in time. If we follow this course of action, it will be no light matter to give others even a part of what has made us unique. We need to be prepared to accept the fact that they will grow and develop their own ways and walk their own paths. Many of these avenues might not agree with our own views of morality.”

  These words caused many in the river of thought to rethink their positions.

  “We have argued the meaning of morality for a long time,” Yoren-dal said. “Should we use our powers to serve others, or to force them to accept what we believe are the true pathways in the universe? The Tulani’aak have chosen to serve and the Nograthi’aak have chosen to force. We ourselves cannot bear arms against our brothers or we would become an extinct branch of the Haman race and none would benefit from our wisdom or aid. A much higher and nobler calling for us would be to give our gift to others and to teach them how to master, respect, and revere it. They can use this power for their own defense, and ultimately their own benefit. If they choose to use our gift unwisely, then that is their choice, and they will suffer the consequences. We cannot be held responsible for the actions and beliefs of others not of our kind, but we can say we have fulfilled our charge to help them fight against the Nograthi’aak.”

  Like Tulan, Aiben couldn’t see beyond the danger in Oand-ib’s plan. Were the Haman giving away their uniqueness to those who might use it against others in the same way once free of the Nograthi’aak? He knew that answer. A great majority of the cybermancers still served the Seven Guilds, but Magron Orcris and his criminal mind-linkers were prime examples of those who didn’t. He wanted to warn them of this, tell them about the serpents of war that would dig their fangs into the innocent, but he found he couldn’t say it.

  Did Oand-ib really start all of this? On the other hand, is it just my mind placing him in the memory, like the vision of Nairom and Nograth? Am I confusing reality and memories again?

  “I don’t see any other way than to give my sanction if no one else has an alternate plan. The Nograthi’aak must be defeated and I cannot risk splintering what is left of our people on thi
s matter.”

  Tulan’s assent eroded this reality and the luxuriant garden dissolved around Aiben. Ferns and trees yielded to an inky blackness pricked by miniscule pinpoints of hot white light. He floated in deep space, clothed only in the ubiquitous Haman cloak, breathing vacuum. His first thought was to panic, but that lasted only a second as his mind grasped the new reality and settled into its new setting.

  A collage of textured globes appeared and whirled around him. They varied from peak to chasm, from desert to jungle, from tundra to forest, surrounded by glassy waters, which glistened across their surfaces.

  It should have been impossible for him to see in such scale, nevertheless, he saw little spheres of mysterious power tiptoe around each planet. Every globe of energy, a four dimensional gate, discharged a creature of sheer beauty and elegance, a sentient vessel of natural curves and icy-smooth skin, which carried the Tulani’aak through their hyperspatial wormholes. One of the worlds, which received these visitors, expanded to fill his senses and he found himself swept up in Yoren-dal’s plan.

  Gene splicing and genetic manipulation sifted out the Haman ability to mesh minds together. The Haman still held their mind-linking ability in such sacred regard, however, that it prevented them from actually introducing the gene into others not of their own race. Instead, the Tulani’aak engineered nanoscopic machines that would produce the artificial combination of biochemicals necessary to create the Haman mind-link. On each world that allowed it, people were infected with the ability to connect themselves together in what was hoped would become a new and powerful conglomeration of thought.

   

  CHAPTER 10

  “Aiben!”

  He recognized the name. He tried to focus hazy eyes. Ballis was leaning over him, a mouthful of polished teeth smiling.

  “Wake up, Aiben. Naptime is over. We’re coming up on Mora Bentia’s hyperportal. We need you awake now with the code.”

  “Give me a few seconds,” Aiben slurred. “Got to clear my head.”

  It was disorienting to be hauled out of such a vivid dream and plunked back into reality. His stomach wrenched from dizziness. Nanomechs took only a few seconds to clear away the nausea.