Ninth City Burning (42 page)

When Curator Ellmore learned a mysterious equus had appeared beneath Lunar Veil to miraculously unmask a shocking Valentine offensive, she immediately recognized Vinneas's work and arranged to have him brought by velo from the harvester where he'd been stranded when the battle began. While I was stewing in prison, and Rae was in an insensible vegetative state, Vinneas had been privy to the worldwide chaos of the battle and the feverish scrambling as our leaders attempted to figure out what to do next.

The situation was bad. Earth's Legions had been reduced to a fraction of their former strength, yes, but that was nothing compared to the news from the Front. Rae and Snuggles weren't the only exotic objects Ninth City's defense force recovered during the battle. They'd also brought back Fontana Malandeera of the Twenty-Second Legion, sent to us on orders from our commanders at the Front. Our former commanders at the former Front, that is. From the sound of things, we were all pretty well and truly screwed. Vinneas had spent the night listening to officials in cities across the world frantically deliberating over a list of dwindling and increasingly unattractive options.

“They want to abandon Earth,” he told us now. “All the Princepts agree. The Consulate is meeting here tomorrow, and they'll make it official then.”

Rae and I were gaping at him, speechless; the only sound was Lady's light snoring. “We can't leave!” Rae shouted. “There has to be something we can do!”

“I've listened to the analysis,” Vinneas said. “It seems like the only way to save humanity.”

“But you have a plan,” I said, finishing his thought for him. He had that look he gets when he's holding on to an idea, something elaborate and enormous and crazily grand, and even before he said it, I knew I'd do everything I could to help.

“There's a chance.” He met my eyes, grinning. “Do you still have your copy of
Associative Architecture
?”

A
nd so here I am, nearly two full sleepless day-and-night cycles later, with plans for a prodigious and fearsome world-saving weapon crammed into half a dozen folders, plus all the data sets and proofs and engineering summaries and architectural details I thought I'd need to make my case, piled into a mountainous mess of papers I have to keep straightening and adjusting to prevent the whole thing from spilling humiliatingly onto the floor in front of the Consulate and a good portion of the remaining leadership of the Twelve Principates. Curator Ellmore has finished her speech, and as she returns to her seat, Vinneas rises and walks, with that unerringly confident manner of his, to lay out our plan before the Consulate.

The argument he makes is simple. For what little we know about our enemy, there are a few certainties. We know their military strength outstrips ours. Until recently, we had reason to consider our forces evenly matched—the Front had been at a stalemate for centuries—but no longer. Compared to the Valentine Host presently on its way to Earth, our remaining defenses are so minuscule as to be insignificant. We know, too, that the Valentines possess an understanding of thelemity, and of the Realms, far greater than our own. For all our efforts to discover the secret behind their regular incursions into Hestia, how they are able to bypass our lines at the Front—and perhaps the Realms themselves—to appear without warning over Earth, their method remains a mystery. This is only a single example, but it is telling evidence that the Valentines may possess capabilities we haven't yet imagined. In fact, Vinneas says, there is only one advantage we can claim with any confidence over our enemy: time.

Of all the Realms we have seen in centuries of exploration, Hestia, our
home, stands out in one crucial regard: Time here moves faster than anywhere else. There is no way to know for certain how unique Hestia is in this respect. If the Realms are truly infinite, as we suspect, then there must be some other Realm careening across time at an even greater velocity. But we have never encountered such a place. Indeed, we have yet to find a Realm where time moves more than a tenth as quickly as it does in Hestia. Moreover, there appears to be a trend in the speeds at which different Realms travel through time: The farther you proceed into the Lattice, the slower—on average—time flows. All available evidence indicates that no Realm the Valentines presently occupy can keep pace with time in Hestia. And this asset, time, outweighs everything the Valentines have in their favor. In matters of war, time trumps all.

Given enough time, we can close the distance between ourselves and our enemy—build a stronger Legion, advance our mastery of thelemity—and perhaps one day surpass them. With time on our side, Vinneas argues, we do not merely have a chance of defeating the Valentines. Victory is all but inevitable. And if we surrender time to our enemy, defeat is just as certain.

“Very eloquent, Censor Vinneas,” Consul Seppora says, once Vinneas has finished. “You make an excellent case, and I doubt anyone in this room would disagree with your central premise. But, unfortunately, time in this instance is not on our side. We are facing the imminent arrival of an enemy we cannot hope to defeat.”

“Cannot hope to defeat
yet
,” Vinneas replies.

I suffer an involuntary cringe at his presumption in correcting the leader of the Consulate, almost expecting her to lean down and crunch his skull for an afternoon snack. Instead, Seppora's thin, saurian mouth stretches into something like a smile. “Explain, please.”

“As Fontana Malandeera described in her report,” Vinneas says, “when our forces realized they were about to be overrun, they closed off the passageways leading between the Realms along the Front, leaving a significant portion of the Valentine Host without any clear path to Earth. The Valentines will have to wait for those passages to reopen—perhaps only a matter of days from their perspective, but for us, it will mean a reprieve of months or even years. If we could close off other Realms along their route to Earth, we would delay the Valentine Host even more—possibly long enough to mount a convincing defense.”

Muted discussion has begun pattering through the crowd behind me, but Consul Seppora remains unmoved. “I do hope you have more for this Consulate than
possibly
, Censor.”

“Small Valentine raiding parties may be capable of reaching Hestia by some unknown alternate course,” Vinneas continued, “but the main body of the Valentine Host will have to advance through the Realms the same way we do. If that were not the case, they would be here already. Once the Valentine Host enters the Ten World Corridor, it will have only one path to Hestia. I propose that we send as much of our remaining Legion as we can spare into the Realms to close off the Corridor before the Valentine Host arrives.”

The ambient chatter has become too noisy to ignore, rising as more and more people begin to understand what Vinneas intends. Consul Seppora raises a hand for silence. “And you believe such a mission would serve a useful purpose?”

“Yes. If we are able to seal the first four Realms leading away from Hestia, we will delay the Valentine Host an additional fourteen years, as viewed from our perspective on Earth. If we can close five, that total will rise to twenty-four years, allowing us more than twenty-six years in all to prepare for the earliest estimated arrival of the Valentine Host. Given the enemy positions outlined in Fontana Malandeera's report, an excursion of the sort I'm proposing should be able to secure at least five Realms—and with them, twenty-six years—before encountering any serious opposition.”

Consul Seppora examines Vinneas closely, while on either side members of the Consulate whisper to one another. “And when they
do
encounter opposition, Censor Vinneas?” Her implication is clear: Will this be a suicide mission? From the discussion I hear rising once again around the room, most people consider the question a nonissue; sacrificing a few legionaries to salvage the entire war sounds like a steal of a deal.

“The expedition would have no immediate way back,” Vinneas admits, “but it could easily escape the oncoming Valentine Host by simply exiting the Corridor. As you know, every Realm, including those along the Corridor, branches outward into a potentially infinite number of other Realms. The expedition has merely to choose one such passageway to remove itself from the Valentine Host's path. The Host itself will be unable to follow without further delaying its advance on Hestia. If, as we all hope is the case, our renewed Legion is able to repel the Valentine attack and retake the
Corridor, we will be able to retrieve the expedition then. From the expedition's perspective, it may be only a few years' wait.”

The despair, so palpable here only a short while ago, has begun to recede, to reshape into something like hope. But not everyone is convinced. Nearby, someone signals for Consul Seppora's attention. When he stands, I recognize the gaunt face and beady eyes of Imperator Feeroy.

“Consul Seppora,” he says, “if I may address the Consulate. I am familiar with Vinneas and know him to be a very intelligent young man, but he has little experience in the practice of war, and I believe he has ignored one very crucial detail.”

“What detail would that be, Imperator?” the Consul asks.

“The Valentine Host is not some distant threat to be countered by long-term strategy, a problem we have years to solve,” Feeroy says. “The first wave is here, right now, waiting to invade. There will be no delaying the attack. In twenty-eight days, the Moon will be aligned to reopen Lunar Veil, and Romeo will have a clear path to Earth. Tell me,” he says, turning to Vinneas, “how does that fit into your proposal?”

“In order for the expedition to succeed in its mission, we will first have to defeat the Valentine vanguard,” Vinneas says, like a man checking items off a to-do list. “With proper planning and preparation, I believe we can win a decisive victory over the enemy forces stationed in Dis.”

“A decisive victory?” Feeroy repeats with an incredulous chuckle. “How exactly do you imagine such a thing is possible, Censor? The Legion is scattered and crippled, our defenses and infrastructure in complete disarray. Three of our cities have been destroyed, and it will be years before those remaining return to their full strength. There is still fighting in progress all over the planet. From what I have been told, there is a rogue source—probably activated accidentally during the battle—that has yet to be brought under control and may very well cause further destruction. Enough of our tetra fortresses and gunships have been damaged or destroyed that we would be hard-pressed to mount an effective defense at Lunar Veil, let alone launch an expedition into the Corridor afterward. And even if we could muster the necessary strength, how would you manage to move a force sufficient to fend off the remnants of the Valentine van? Most of our long-distance transports were at the Front. I doubt those left on Earth would carry half the legionaries required, let alone enough food and supplies for all the years you plan on waiting for rescue.”

Vinneas had expected precisely this argument and told me to be ready once it came up because I'd be getting my turn with the Consulate very soon. “Our cities can provide all the resources we need,” Vinneas says.

“Our cities?” Feeroy scoffs. “What good will our cities be to us at Lunar Veil, or out in the Realms? It isn't as if we can take them with us.”

Finally, Vinneas allows himself a smile. He turns toward Consul Seppora, “If you please, Consul, I'd like to introduce my colleague, Officer Aspirant Kizabel, to explain the logistics of our proposal.”

That's my cue. Feeling thoroughly light-headed, I descend to face the Consulate. Once again, I have visions of being devoured alive, only now the imagery is far more real and splattery, with lots of animals-savaging-one-another-in-the-wild gore.

Imperator Feeroy is so offended by my presence that he momentarily forgets his manners. “Officer
Aspirant
? You brought a schoolgirl to lecture the Consulate on strategy?”

“Kizabel is eminently qualified to speak on the matter at hand,” Vinneas answers coolly. “She is an accomplished faber and artifex, who contributes regularly to studies at Ninth City's School of Philosophy and to repairs at Ninth City's Fabrica. I can provide further references for her work, but I am certain her competence will be readily apparent once she is given a chance to speak.”

“She is a
student
, Censor,” insists Feeroy.

“As was I, until about two months ago, and you, Imperator, sometime before. In fact, I would venture to guess every member of the Consulate has had some experience with our Academies at one point or another.”

“I should think Censor Vinneas has earned the benefit of the doubt,” Princept Azemon says from Seppora's side. The implicit reference to Vinneas's warnings about the coming Valentine attack delivers a visible sting to Feeroy.

“At this point, we must be prepared to judge ideas on their own merit, whatever the source,” Seppora agrees. She turns her small, glinting eyes on me. “Please, proceed.”

“Right, great,” I say, fumbling through my folders for the plans I need. “Well”—I stammer a few fractured syllables, cough into my hand—“as Censor Vinneas said, with the exception of fontani, our cities are the planet's best weapons. They're a lot like the fortified positions we build at the
Front: self-sustaining, with everything required to conduct ongoing operations. They can maintain battle spires—which launch troops and assault platforms more effectively than tetra fortresses—and heavy artillery far more powerful than our gunships. I'm talking 160, 208-soul guns. All of which requires a great deal of supporting structure, not to mention an operational framework too large and complex to easily or efficiently carry into battle. That's why our cities are arranged as they are, laid out to jointly defend the planet. But what if it were possible to create a city that moves?”

Carefully, I lay my plans across the floor and stand back. From my pocket, I produce a cantivel
1
containing a projection artifice. At a flick of my thumb, my scribbled and amended and appended designs rise luminously into the air over my head, giving the Consulate and everyone else in the room a good, clear view. “This is IMEC-1,” I say, very conscious of the vast volume of attention now focusing on me. “As you can see, it possesses all the attributes of a fully functioning city, including living and working areas, sustainable supplies of food and water, and facilities from which to launch military sorties. It differs from other thelemically powered cities in only one significant way: mobility. By rendering the offensive and defensive capabilities of a fortified city portable, IMEC-1 would make the ideal base of operations for an expeditionary force. Even considering the Legion's losses thus far, it could be fully staffed while leaving ample support behind for the continued defense of Earth.”