Extremis (28 page)

Urkhot sent a wave of confident (dismissal). “Illudor would not allow all these discarnations unless they were part of a greater plan. Perhaps it is his will to reduce the number of our bodies, so as to diminish the burden upon this first generation of settlers: fewer mouths to feed, fewer children to teach.”

Narrok sent (assent), then “Even if that is true, I wonder if you would indulge my curiosity on a relevant theological point?”

(Wariness.) “Of course.”

“Is not Illudor weakened even as we are weakened?”

“Your question suggests that, in part, Illudor’s strength is dependent upon us, or can only be measured through our actions. Tell me, Admiral: Do you then also believe that Illudor can commit suicide?”

Narrok avoided Urkhot’s attempt to bait him into overt heresy and proceeded with (caution, purposiveness). “Whether Illudor may end his own existence or not is moot. We are taught that he will not. But we are also taught that, as Illudor is the universe, so his destruction would mean the destruction of all things.”

“Destruction is a separate matter. You speculated that Illudor might be ‘weakened even as we are weakened.’ Do you not thereby imply that Illudor might
not
be a supreme being?”

“My question implied nothing. Rather, it invokes simple mathematics. Why do we struggle to preserve the race? To ensure that we are not all destroyed, and thus, neither is the manifestation of Illudor in this universe.”

“The youngest of us knows this.”

“Very well. So if our population were to be reduced to zero, we, Illudor, and the universe would be at an end. Is this not so?”

“You know it to be.”

“Then I put it to you that having two Arduans left alive is a far riskier state of existence than having two thousand. Or twenty million. And so I say further that we have sustained so many casualties already in this war, that I simply wonder at what point we must be concerned with maintaining a safety margin to ensure the continuation of our race.”

“This concern has not escaped my notice, but at any rate, it is not
your
concern, Admiral.”

“Nor, I suppose, is the single greatest cause of those losses,
Holodah’kri
?”

“You mean the cause is something other than weakness in our fleet leadership?” And as he said it, Urkhot tucked his
selnarm
back in: obviously he had meant to insult Narrok, but only remembered afterward that it was the late Admiral Lankha—as Torhok’s proxy—who had suffered crippling losses, and with no gain to show for them. Torhok’s
selnarm
rippled, seethed, but did not project into the exchange.

Narrok’s response was oddly affable. “Oh, the actions of the Fleet leadership have indeed caused the losses,
Holodah’kri
, but the actions in question were imposed upon us.”

“Imposed upon you by what?”

“Not by what, but by whom—for I speak of your own extrapolations of the Will of Illudor,
Holodah’kri
.”

“My extrapolations of the Will of Illudor? How can my theological insights restrain you in your role as admiral, Narrok? I have not the authority to dictate strategy or tactics to you.”

“Not directly, Honored
Holodah’kri
, but as we enter each new system, we are compelled—as a consequence of your dicta—to disregard the positions of the other warp points as they appear on the human astrographic charts. And in almost every case to date, we ultimately discover that the warp points were precisely where the human data claimed them to be.”

“Which you confirm at your leisure, do you not?

“At our
leisure
? With respect, we do eventually confirm them, but not at our leisure. Upon entering a system, we lack our enemy’s surety of
where
the most strategically imperative regions of that system are situated. Consequently, every plan the humans make starts with a perfect knowledge of the coming battlefield. However, as long as we are prohibited from giving their star charts even a provisional credence, we emerge blind. Because Admiral Lankha was not allowed to accept the plotting of the human charts, she chased after an apparent warp point that was a trap—and which decimated her entire fleet. In Suwa, the humans escaped unscathed because—again—we had to ignore the human data on the system and were duped into interdicting a decoy warp point—as they disappeared through the actual one. In just such ways, they routinely outmaneuver and elude us.”

Urkhot gave the
selnarm
equivalent of a shrug. “Illudor compels us to grow by walking in dark and unknown places. And so it is with the
griarfeksh
data. Every one of their purported facts are potential lies, and so we are unable to rely upon any of their information.”

Narrok sent (calm, acceptance). “Yes, I see your point,
Holodah’kri
. All their facts are fruits of the same poisoned tree. Which is why I must therefore propose that we immediately dismount all the Desai drives currently in service with the Fleet and cease using the warp-point network altogether.”

Urkhot physically flinched. “What? Narrok, are you going mad?”

“No. I am being consistent. Warp-point maps, Desai drives, quantum computers: it makes no difference. If some of what we have gleaned from human archives must be treated as the fruit of a poisoned tree, then
all
of it must be. Ultimately, won’t the theological inconsistency—or caprice—of tolerating some human data and not others prove to be more dangerous to the Children of Illudor? For when the questions begin—when we are called upon to explain why Illudor wills that we must ignore some human ‘facts’ yet embrace others—how will we answer? Will not the distinctions seem arbitrary? Will they not seem to be the result of pragmatic decisions made by us, rather than as reflections of Illudor’s perfect—and perfectly consistent—will? And how will we then undo the damage that has been done to our faith? I readily acknowledge that the human technology we have incorporated has become critical to our survival. However, since—as you have already assured me—Illudor would not commit suicide, and since any losses are therefore acceptable, is it not better that we foreswear these tainted technologies as quickly as possible? The Desai drive and quantum computing and fighter improvements—yes, even the discovery and use of warp points themselves: it seems that we had best renounce them all before the inconsistency they represent becomes so great that it spawns a schism within our unified embrace of the will of Illudor. For surely, that is more dangerous to us than the paltry efforts of the puny
griarfeksh
fleets—is it not,
Holodah’kri
?”

Urkhot’s
selnarm
had not merely retracted but had seemingly coiled around itself—leaving Mretlak with a strong impression of the prenatal curl of Firstlings nestled in their mother’s birth-sac. Torhok’s
selnarm
remained shut but seemed to quiver in rage; Mretlak could not tell if the source of that fury was Narrok or the suddenly enfeebled Urkhot. And Narrok’s
selnarm
was like the surface of a high mountain lake, unrippled by wind: it was calm, serene—and completely reflective, revealing nothing of what lay beneath.

When it became obvious that Urkhot dared not open his
selnarm
, Torhok groomed his own and opened a tight, well-defined aperture. “Admiral Narrok, your insight is worthy of a
’kri
.”

“I am flattered, Senior Admiral—but why do you say this?”

“Because you have arrived at the very conclusion that Urkhot and his own advisors had determined just a week ago.” It was all the purest
flixit
droppings, and everyone in the room knew it, but none dared make such an observation. “In fact,” Torhok continued, “you have perceptively anticipated the precise doctrinal change that Urkhot was laboring to complete even as we traveled here. He is no doubt flustered by necessarily having to defend an old view because he has not finished crafting the articulation of the new view.”

“Of course. And the new view is—what?”

“As your reasoning suggests: that we provisionally accept the provenance of those human data which had heretofore been rejected. So, then, let us be practical. If the old constraints—specifically, those prohibiting reliance upon
griarfeksh
maps and other data—were removed now, would you be able to accelerate your timetable for the assault on Ajax?”

“Unquestionably, Senior Admiral. It vastly simplifies our planning.”

“Then you may disregard the old data prohibitions from this moment forward. This is somewhat earlier than Urkhot had anticipated, but once we return to New Ardu, the new doctrines will be announced. Although not all at once, you understand. Such changes take time.”

“Of course, Senior Admiral.”

“Very well. The further matters of resource allocation can be arranged through my staff, Admiral Narrok. I believe we are done here. Come, Urkhot. You must complete the articulation of the new doctrine with greater alacrity, now.”

Only when the door closed behind the inscrutable admiral and his befuddled priest-lackey, did Mretlak breathe again—and in so doing, realized that he had not done so for almost half a minute.

* * *

Two days later, and after what seemed to be a week’s worth of logistical wrangling between Narrok’s and Torhok’s staff proxies, Mretlak stood before Narrok’s quarters, wondering how he should tell his commander the latest news—when the door opened unbidden.

(Congeniality, paternal fondness.) “Come in, Mretlak. Your
selnarm
is like a nervous
flixit
warbling on my doorstep.”

Mretlak was too surprised to demur or even comment; he entered. And found Narrok poring over projected fleet inventories of consumables—which the admiral put aside as he raised his eyes to meet Mretlak’s. “So, I understand congratulations are in order.”

(Shock.) “I am—that is, I do not wish—Admiral, how do you know?”

“About your transfer back to Bellerophon? Oh, I was told about it. And I approved it.”

(Surprise, hurt.) “You approved—?”

(Reassurance, fondness.) “Mretlak, you misunderstand. I approved it—after the requisite period and degree of resistance—because it was inevitable. In you, I had too great an ally and helpmate. Torhok and Urkhot were sure to discern this. So they were sure to remove you.”

Mretlak sat and radiated (glumness). “Perhaps I should not have been part of the briefing then, Admiral.”

“No, that was necessary also. They were going to realize I had a singularly gifted helper here, and they were going to determine the identity of that person, no matter what. By putting you in the briefing, I let them know that I had my eye on you, trusted you, would no doubt follow your progress even at a distance.”

Mretlak brightened. “And so that is why they have assigned me to analyze the historical records of the humans, for purposes of ‘gathering speciate intelligence of military value.’ ”

“Precisely. Given your accomplishments, this will seem a wise and natural reassignment when announced to the Council of Twenty. Of course, Torhok and Urkhot intend to bury you in a pointless and endless task. They have no interest in the nature and background of our adversary. However, we made an issue of it in the briefing—and so, we were the ones who opened the doors of inquiry that ‘necessitated’ your reassignment. All very tidy.”

“And, I fear, effective.”

“Hmm. Perhaps not so effective as they think. You are not alone in your ‘pointless assignment,’ Mretlak. As I understand it, the Elder Councilor and
shaxzhu
, Ankaht, is conducting similar researches. Torhok has underestimated her—and the importance of her research. I wouldn’t be surprised if you find points of mutual interest and enlightenment with the Elder.”

“She is outspoken against the
Destoshaz
resurgence, Admiral.”

“She is outspoken regarding its bigoted propaganda, Mretlak. Those are not the same things. My advice is to meet her with an open mind—then judge.”

“This is always wise, Admiral. I am guided by your words.”

“As I have been indebted to your tirelessness and perspicacity, good Mretlak. More than I can expect from your replacement, Esh’hid.”

“She is not capable, Admiral?”

“She is not a creature of her own will, Fleet Second. She is a devotee of Urkhot’s caste-and-race destiny rhetoric.”

“She is a spy?”

Narrok shrugged. “She is also eager for the glory of victory. When we attack Ajax, I will make sure that she has the opportunity to pursue that goal—by allowing her to command the first wave.”

(Surprise.) “You wish her discarnated, Admiral?”

Narrok answered with another shrug. “I wish her off my bridge, and if possible, off my command staff. I hope she finds her duties at the front line diverting rather than discarnating—but that, after all, shall be as Illudor wills it.” (Amusement, irony.) “Now, to business, Mretlak. When you arrive at Bellerophon, your official task is to reinitiate something we Arduans have not needed for centuries: an intelligence service. It will be your job to become expert in their tactics of subterfuge and misdirection. In short, we need you to be able to tell us how the humans
think
when they embark upon war-making, Fleet Second.

“But while you are doing this, you will also have an excellent opportunity—and cover—for continuing to examine the humans’ records of their own past, their own nature, their own proclivities and beliefs. And since Urkhot and his ilk have made the human war of genocide against the Bugs the cornerstone of their argument that the humans are neither sentient nor sane, you must endeavor to determine whether the humans might have been justified in their level of aggression. As you do so, take particular care to forensically establish the provenance of older evidence: make sure that you can physically authenticate the date of all documents, printouts, et cetera. If they can be proven genuine, that would utterly refute any assertions that the humans have attempted to rehistoricize their past.”

(Dread.) “Admiral, if Senior Admiral Torhok keeps close track of my activities, and discerns what I am doing, I—well, I fear that I may be even less safe than your new Fleet Second.”

(Reassurance.) “You are in no danger. Torhok has too much to occupy him to keep track of you once he has consigned you to what he considers a fool’s errand. Besides, Torhok leaves here pleased, and unsuspicious, because he got what he came to get.”