The Ascendant Stars (65 page)

‘My congratulations on a skilful piece of stalking, Doctor.’ Kuros’s voice was muffled, drifting down from a greater height now. ‘And I see that you are using tagging ammunition, from which I surmise that you have a seeker weapon of some sort.’

Climbing the steps, Greg tried again to gauge the direction of the Sendrukan’s voice.

‘Aye, that’s right, you’ve got it, clever of you to figure it out.’

‘In that case, I’ll have to adopt alternative tactics.’ Then Kuros spoke two words in Sendrukan.

A tremor began in the thigh muscles of Greg’s right leg. A shivery weakness quickly spread downwards, forcing him to cling to the trunk of the Watchtree as he limped and staggered up to a wide, shady platform. There was no pain, only a loss of control, a numbness backed by a growing sense of horrified dread.

‘Do you recall our last meeting, when I introduced you to that useful substance known as Blue Chain?’

‘Your slavery powder?’ Greg said, trying to keep his voice level. ‘What about it?’

‘I’m glad you asked,’ said the hidden Kuros. ‘Every particle of the nanodust is programmed to adapt to circumstances, you see. So although most of the Blue Chain we gave you was removed by those cunning native roots, its adaptive imperative would have already sent sleeper clusters into the motor centres … ’

Kuros spoke another Sendrukan word, and Greg felt the strength go out of his other leg. He fell to his knees and slumped forward. Gritting his teeth, he began dragging himself forward with his elbows.

God, I’m a sitting target!
he thought.
Just a few words and he’s turned me into a wreck, a weakling. If I can just get in one good shot
…

‘That’s all very educational, Mr Ambassador,’ he said, pulling himself along with his forearms. ‘You could give talks about it at the maximum-security prison we’re gonna build just for you back on Darien!’

‘An amusing notion, Doctor, but the truth is that you are going to die here and I will return to the Hegemony and civilisation. And eventually we shall again reach out to this world and reclaim it in the name of our undiminished posterity. This is how the supreme existence manifests itself – the weak work towards the greater glory of the strong, and the undeserving give way to the pre-eminent … ’

Again, a Sendrukan word was spoken and the feeling and control drained from Greg’s right arm. His hand grew numb and the smartgun slipped out of his nerveless fingers. He half-gasped, half-laughed, face only inches from the rough planking as he seized the Roug gun with his other hand. Then with a considerable effort he levered himself up against the nearby tree trunk, sweat trickling and itching down his temples and scalp as he forced himself into a seated position. Deliberately he rested the smartgun on his leg, aiming it at the flight of stairs that curved up around a large branch that protruded from the main trunk like a huge shoulder.

‘I think I’ve heard that argument before,’ Greg said. ‘Usually from out the mouth of a lout with delusions o’ grandeur. Oh, but wait a minute! – that’s exactly what your precious Hegemony is, a gang of louts with big guns, big ships and big boots. You can dress it up any way you like, with pretty-sounding phrases and lofty visions, but ultimately you’re just a mob of self-important thugs who want it all!’

Silence. Then a voice whispering from overhead.

‘Are you trying to get yerself killed?’

He glanced up and there she was, peering over the edge of a blossom-fringed platform. She looked so real, so solid, that he almost believed it.

‘It’s no’ much of a plan but it’s all I’ve got right now,’ he said. ‘Maybe I can provoke him into showing himself … ’

Alarm flickered in her eyes.

‘ … and if I die, you’ll have to take this gun and kill him … I mean, if you can, if you’re not a … ’

She shook her head, then gave a shrug and ducked out of sight, leaving him suddenly, bleakly alone.

A moment later, Kuros spoke again.

‘I must admit, Doctor Cameron, your species has shown itself to be invidiously annoying and at times more trouble than they are worth – and you are an especially irritating example of your kind.’

‘Och, you’re just saying that – c’mon, tell me what you really think. Tell me to my face!’

‘I had toyed with allowing you one arm and a sporting chance of hitting me but I’ve changed my mind. Instead, I think you deserve to come back with me to the Hegemony core worlds where I can introduce you to the wonders of the Hegemon’s own personal vivisection labs. It would be, I feel, a suitable reward for all your efforts.’

Kuros spoke another word. Greg’s arm went dead and fell to his side, the smartgun half-slipping from his now useless hand. His attempt at goading Kuros into showing himself had failed, while Cat seemed to have simply vanished, ghosted away.

There was the sound of descending steps and he looked up to see a tall grey-robed figure stroll leisurely towards him. A shadowy cowl was pushed back to reveal the features of Utavess Kuros.

‘My transponder tells me that a transport will be here quite shortly,’ the Sendrukan said. ‘There is a platform more adequate for embarkation further up, which means that I will have to carry you.’

Kuros was half a dozen paces away when a figure dropped onto him from the branches above. Small hands clawed at his face. Flailing at his assailant, he cried out and staggered back, tripped on a jutting board and fell full length on the planking. That was when Greg realised that the attacker was Catriona.

She held on like grim death as the Sendrukan landed, letting out a howl of rage. Greg heard her cry out but she kept one arm
wrapped around Kuros’s neck, refusing to let go even when the big Sendrukan started grabbing her limbs and swinging wild punches.

Without warning a strange languour settled over Greg’s senses, and the struggle going on just a few yards away slowed down and down. Garments swirled and billowed while those savage movements became drawn-out graceful gestures, which he found curiously amusing, as if he were watching some piece of visual comedy on the vee. Until a bright flash cut through everything, and a stabbing sensation raced from his head down neck and shoulder into his arm and hand, the hand that was still half-curled about the smartgun. His body was his again. He snatched up the weapon and aimed, just as Kuros was drawing back one big fist to strike Cat. Greg yelled and Kuros looked up and round, providing an excellent target. Uttering a bellow of anger, Greg pressed and held down the firing stud, and a chain of bright barbs struck the Sendrukan full in the face.

A scream started but was cut off. Flame and blood burst up and out as the Sendrukan was flung backwards. Hands briefly clutched at empty air, and the limbs jerked for a few seconds before relaxing finally into motionlessness.

The brutal violence was followed by a frozen moment. Then there was movement next to the corpse: Catriona, edging away from the dead Sendrukan. Greg returned the smartgun to its holster then went over to help her to her feet. She seemed to be unhurt and hardly marked with their enemy’s blood.

‘I must say, Miss Macreadie, that you’re looking pretty good for a forest phantom … ’ He suddenly noticed that they were holding each other’s arms. ‘And feeling rather more substantial … ’

Her face lit up with an intense, wordless glee as she grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in close enough for her to deliver a long passionate kiss. When they at last broke apart Greg drew in a deep breath and made a quiet whistling sound.

‘Well, that answers one of my questions … ’

‘And mine,’ said Catriona. ‘There were times when I was sure that I’d never get to do that again, or indeed with you … wait, can you hear that?’

‘Hear what?’

‘It’s like a wee voice … ’

They both fell into a hush and Greg could hear it, a faint tinny whisper. Realisation struck and when he raised a hand to his right ear the comm piece was gone. Patting his clothing, he found it in a fold and seconds later had it back in place.

‘ … repeating message, Mr Cameron, please reply … ’

‘Kao Chih, I hear you,’ he said. ‘Sorry, but the damned earpiece fell out.’

‘Understood, Mr Cameron, and I gather that Kuros is no longer a threat, but have you found the transponder? That shuttle is less than ten minutes from your position.’

Greg stared at Catriona in a kind of uncertain panic.

‘What?’ she said.

‘Kuros had a transponder and a Hegemony ship is on its way here!’ He looked upwards, gesturing at the dense veils of foliage. ‘But how can we find it in time?’

‘A transponder, eh?’

When Greg looked back Cat was crouching over the dead Sendrukan, fumbling and rummaging in the long grey robes. Then she made a satisfied sound, straightened and held out a silver-grey flattened ovoid.

‘Is that it? I saw him fiddling with it earlier.’

Greg described it to Kao Chih, who confirmed that it was the device in question. Quickly Greg took it from Cat’s hand, placed it on the planked platform and brought his heel down on it repeatedly. When it was at last reduced to a scattering of shattered components and casing fragments, Cat took him by the hand and led him away from the scene of death to sit at the foot of the steps leading further up the Watchtree. As they did so, some of the local Uvovo began peering out from hiding places and woven shelters.

‘The transponder has ceased signalling, Mr Cameron,’ Kao Chih said. ‘The rescue shuttle has altered course away from Darien, towards the Hegemony fleet’s marshalling zone.’

‘How’s it all looking, Kao Chih?’ Greg said. ‘D’ye think the fighting’s over?’

‘All sides have suffered crippling losses. The remnants of the Hegemony armada still outnumber the other factions’ surviving vessels by more than ten to one, but High Mandator Azgemiron has made it clear to all sides that warlike behaviour will not be tolerated. None has violated this status. Also it seems like that the greater part of the Hegemony remnants will pull out, leaving behind a symbolic ship or two to keep an eye on developments.’

Greg sighed. ‘Well, I guess that’s something. Look, I’m signing off for a while, Kao Chih – if I don’t get some rest I think I’ll go off my head!’

‘Understood. We will speak again soon.’

He took out the earpiece and slipped it into an inside pocket. Cat moved in closer, put her arms around his chest and hugged him tightly.

‘Segrana … is dead,’ she said softly.

‘I saw the wrecked cyborgs. How … ’

‘Canna talk about it. Not the now.’ She was silent a moment. ‘What’s it like down on Darien?’

‘Last time I was there it was pretty bad, towns half-wrecked or half-burnt, deserted, inhabitants fled into the mountains and forests, just … bad.’

‘They’ll need folk like us to help with reconstruction, of course.’

‘Aye,’ he said. ‘Canny types who know which end of the hammer to hold.’

Another long moment of silence. Then Catriona shifted her head to look up at him.

‘How did you beat that slavery dust?’ she said. ‘What did he call it …?’

‘Blue Chain,’ Greg said. ‘Dunno. Perhaps there wasn’t enough of it in the end for Kuros’s purposes. Maybe it self-destructed – all I know is that I felt a sharp tingling all over and suddenly I was back in control … ’ He broke off, ambushed by a jaw-cracking yawn. Cat giggled.

‘There’s a nice hut upstairs where you can sleep, if you like.’

‘Nah, I just want tae sit here with you for a wee bit longer,’ he
said drowsily. ‘Watch the sunlight move through the leaves while the Uvovo come out to play … ’

Which is what they did, resting there on the stairs, sipping from drinks brought by the Uvovo or nibbling berries and fruit. Not long after, the tall woman he had met down at the forest floor appeared at the other end of the platform, waved then headed off along another branchway. Later, as the sun dipped and shadows lengthened, and most of the Uvovo retired to their shelters, neither of them noticed when a single glowing mote emerged from the back of Greg’s hand, a bright point surrounded by a shifting corona. It drifted unseen through the air towards the immense trunk of the Watchtree and sank into its gnarled bark.

At one point Greg came out of his drowsy half-sleep all of a sudden, certain for a moment that he’d heard the voice of the Zyradin speaking to him. Then Catriona muttered something into his chest and he settled back while the silvery light of Darienrise shone through the branches, the first pure gleams of a future worth building.

Three weeks after the defeat of the Legion and the destruction of the Godhead, a memorial was held on a hillside on Darien. Three funerals had taken place on Darien a fortnight earlier, while Robert Horst’s remains, recovered from the scene of the Godhead’s demise, had been shipped back to Earth where they were laid to rest just outside Berlin. But the memorial still centred on the planting and dedication of four trees just after noon on a grassy slope overlooking Membrance Vale, where the old
Hyperion
still lay.

The eulogies were just beginning when the Construct’s emissary arrived. As the four spiraleaf saplings were lowered by willing hands into newly dug holes, Greg Cameron stood up before the invited audience and gave a warm and witty speech about his uncle, Theo Karlsson. He was followed by his mother, Karlsson’s sister, Solvjeg, who was dignified and only tearful at the end. Then one of the Tygrans came forward, Franklyn Gideon, looking vaguely uncomfortable without either uniform or combat armour; he spoke briefly about Karlsson’s grit under fire and how he had saved Gideon’s life during Becker’s attack on Tusk Mountain, then ended with that rarity, a piece of Tygran verse –