Resolution (63 page)

Hovering in the background on her silver lev-tray was the glistening flensed head of Eemur, which so disconcerted those who did not know her that they looked away, unable to process the sight.

You’re different now, my sweet Lord. Stronger. More determined.

Tom inclined his head. That was the truth.

But are you determined enough?

He smiled.

We’ll soon find out.

Then he nodded to Elva, who rose to her feet and addressed the assembled nobles and officers. ‘It’s time to make a start.’

Tom was resourceful. He was
inspired.

‘—one great chance to survive is our strongest means of victory—’

Using every trick of rhetoric, the hidden commands in speech backed up with subliminal directives of body posture which went straight to hardwired primate behaviour ... and in some cases all the way to the ancient reptilian mind situated deep inside every human brain.

‘—the Enemy is concentrated below, but we have freedom of the skies and near-space beyond—’

Tactical displays whirled through their sequence of messages: designed not just to build up a subtle emotional impact but to hit beats and rhythms in synch with the electrical cycles of the visual cortex, as Tom controlled the chamber’s mood.

At one point, as that mood became too sombre, Tom stepped to the floor-tile which he had already stood on to make appropriate jokes. The hairs rose up on the back of Tom’s neck as the commanders - subconsciously conditioned - straightened in their seats and smiled before he had even begun to make his lighthearted aside.

It’s as if I’m controlling their emotions with a slider switch.

Tom knew now why dictators fell victim to their own adrenaline rush. Imagine the god-like power you would feel addressing a thousand, or a hundred thousand people in this fashion!

It was possible. In fact, it might be easier: a vast crowd automatically grew a collective mind of its own, one with fewer psychological defences than individuals.

‘—certain it is
not
our Destiny to fall before a different kind of life-form. We may be more complex than bacteria, but bacteria still exist! They are the
dominant
biomass, and if they can manage to find niches in which to live, then I’m damned sure that human beings have the guts and determination and foresight and will to—’

Volksurd was nodding. Anomaly be damned: if it truly were unstoppable, he would still go down fighting. Lady Xamila, who had been so afraid she trembled, was looking stronger by the minute, as if strengthened by the mental force broadcast by Tom.

Not so much force,
Tom thought,
as resonance.

Locking their thoughts in synch with his.

‘—we can fight and run, merge back into the forests and wastelands of the surface—’

Lieutenant eh’Gelifni smiled. This was a concept he cared for.

But that was when Tom paused, and General Lord Ygran coughed. And Tom knew he would have to let this renowned soldier take the floor, and deal with the consequences afterwards.

‘There.’ Ygran pointed at the chamber’s floor. ‘Is that the spot where you slew the previous owner of this sphere?’

Tom blinked.

Ygran’s words drew a reaction among the commanders. Intakes of breath. Some jerked back in their chairs, losing their subconscious rapport with Tom.

‘You know,’ Tom said, ‘I was declared innocent in that matter.’ General Ygran began to speak, but Tom continued: ‘Yet if we are to fight together, we must trust each other. So, yes ... I slew the Oracle. I had reason to.’

That’s done it.

General Ygran stared at Tom for a long moment. Then:

‘Well said, sir. The exploit is legendary.’ General Ygran’s white moustache bristled as he smiled. ‘According to our elite forces who analysed the scenario, the only way in was a free-climb from the very bottom of the sphere up to the top. Entering right there.’ Ygran pointed at the membrane-window leading to the balcony. ‘With no smart-tech whatsoever, since internal scans would have picked up the microwave resonance.’

‘Just so.’

‘And you killed an Oracle whose sworn truecast indicated his eventual death of old age, decades from now.’

‘That’s right, General.’

So now they knew.

Try me now, if you want.

There must be a way of finding Tom guilty despite the document signed by Corduven ... but General Lord Ygran was standing up, hands at his sides.

Making a formal bow.

‘Then you are the right man, Lord Corcorigan, to lead the free forces of Nulapeiron against the Anomaly.’

There were murmurs, there were nods, and then every one of the two-hundred-and-more nobles and freeborn rose to their feet and cheered. All of them ... save for the albino Lady Flurella, whose scarlet eyes glowed in a way Tom had not seen before. Suddenly tricons were floating before him: virtual images, lased directly into Tom’s retinas, invisible to everyone else.

You manipulated them with finesse, my Lord.

Flurella could ruin everything.

There was a long delay while the commanders and aides continued cheering, but Tom was sure that his schemes were in ashes. Then Lady Flurella gave a cold, slow smile.

Don’t worry. As Ygran says: it proves you’re the right person for this job.

She did not mean it as a compliment.

No matter. So long as we bring down the Anomaly.

Tom wondered how many other autocrats had thought the same thing as they took control for selfless reasons.

‘What kind of actions,’ said General Ygran as the approving sounds died down, ‘do you propose, my Lord?’

‘Here.’ Tom pointed into the holo. ‘And here. There are large armies already encamped, not allied to us, but fighting against Anomalous forces.’ He looked around the chamber, at the enraptured gazes. ‘We strike around the Enemy’s flanks, extract as many free forces as we can.’

General Ygran nodded. There had to be more, but he understood that this was too large a forum for Tom to share detailed battle plans.

‘I’ll tell you one thing right now,’ said Tom. ‘This is going to be a war not only of courage, but of
intellect.
’

‘And the legendary Lord One-Arm’ - General Ygran smiled - ‘known also as The Oracle Killer, is
exactly
the right person to lead us.’

Tom took a deep breath.

The kaon-koan. A shield around the world.

In the end, that was his only strategy.

There was a final rousing speech Tom had planned to make, but before he could step back to his earmarked position on the floor - Lady Flurella, seeing his intention, gave a sardonic smile - General Ygran pushed his way to the front of the gathered audience.

Ygran. You can take the power.

General Ygran turned to face the commanders.

They will follow you.

‘You know who I am. Perhaps you don’t know’ - and here he moved to the area of the floor from which Tom had made his few jokes - ‘that old soldiers like me are mostly history buffs, who’d rather be at home wearing slippers immersed in old crystal tales’ - there were chuckles; then Ygran shifted, echoing Tom’s most commanding posture: he possessed skills of neurolinguistic rhetoric in his own right - ‘and I tell you now, this world has never been in such danger since the Founding Wars. Perhaps not even then.’

The smiles faded.

‘Accordingly,’ General Ygran continued, ‘I propose that we reinstitute a precept from the
Codex Belligerens.’

He gestured a holo into being.

In the time of greatest danger, appoint a single leader over all.

That person’s decision shall be the final word in every dispute.

Their orders will be obeyed unquestioned, without delay.

Tom shook his head.