The Night's Dawn Trilogy (148 page)

“But now we are inside the village I can see very little activity apart from those vassals working on the rampart. The roads
are empty. No breeder has appeared. The soldiers seem certain of their destination, leading us deeper into the village. I
can now hear a great many Tyrathca away towards the park at the centre of Coastuc-RT. Yes, listen, a whistle that rises and
falls in a slow regular beat. There must be hundreds of them doing it in unison to achieve that effect.”

The soldiers led them out onto one of the village’s radial roads, cutting straight down past the tower houses into the central
park. Right in the middle was a vast impossible dull-silver edifice. At first glimpse it looked like a hundred-metre-wide
disc suspended fifty metres in the air by a central conical pillar whose tip only just touched the ground; another, identical,
cone rose from the top of the disc. It was perfectly symmetrical, shining a lurid red-gold under the sinking sun. Six elaborate
flying buttresses arched down from the rim of the disc, preventing the topheavy structure from falling over.

The three humans stared in silence at the imposing artefact. Big builder-caste Tyrathca walked ponderously along the buttresses
and over the surface of the disc. The pinnacle of the upper cone wasn’t quite finished, showing a geodesic grid of timber
struts which a rank of builder caste clung to as they slowly covered it with their organic cement. Another team were following
them up, spraying the drying cement with a gelatin mucus that shimmered with oil-slick marquetry until it hardened into the
distinctive silverish hue.

Kelly took the structure in with one swift professional sweep, then focused on the park. It had been reduced to a shallow
clay quarry in the haste to extract soil for the disc and its buttresses. This was where the Tyrathca breeders had gathered;
several thousand of them, circling round the outside of the disc. They sat on their hindquarters in the mud, short antennae
standing proud, whistling in a long slow undulation. It sounded poignant, imploring even. Entities that had been needlessly
hurt questioning the reason, the same the galaxy over.

Kelly’s didactic memory didn’t have any reference to a Tyrathcan religion. A more comprehensive search program running through
her neural nanonics said the Tyrathca didn’t have a religion, and there was no explanation for the disc, either.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were at prayer,” Reza datavised.

“Could be the local version of the town meeting,” Ariadne suggested. “Trying to decide what to do about us wild humans.”

“They’re not talking about anything,” Kelly said. “It’s more like a song.”

“The Tyrathca don’t sing,” Reza replied.

“What’s that disc for? There’s no way in at the bottom of the cone pillar, not from this side, but it’s definitely hollow.
Nothing solid like that would be able to stand up, it’s almost like a mock-up. I can’t find any record of them ever building
anything like it before. And why build it now for Christ’s sake, when they need all the builder caste to construct defences?
Something that size has taken a hell of a lot of effort to put up.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Looks as if you’ll be able to ask in a minute.”

The soldiers halted when they came level with the innermost ring of house towers. All of the buildings had been sealed up,
black lids capping the windows, cement slabs erected over the door arches. Colourful flowering plants swamped their gardens.

A lone breeder was walking towards them from the park. Male or female, Kelly couldn’t tell, not even comparing it to the images
stored in a memory cell—females were supposed to be slightly larger. It was bigger than the soldiers by about half a metre,
the scale hide several shades lighter, dorsal mane neatly trimmed. Apart from its stumpy black antennae, the one physiological
aspect which most distinguished it from the vassal castes was a row of small chemical program teats dangling flaccidly from
its throat like empty leather pouches, although the long supple fingers intimated it was a sophisticated tool user.

She saw an almost subliminal hazy film twinkling briefly on the road behind it. Superfine bronze powder, similar to the dusting
on a terrestrial moth, was sprinkling down from its flanks.

The Tyrathca breeder stopped beside the soldier carrying the processor block. Its outer mouth hinged back, allowing it to
whistle a long tune.

Flute music, Kelly thought.

“I am Waboto-YAU,” the processor block voice translated. “I will mediate with you on behalf of Coastuc-RT.”

“I’m Reza Malin, combat scout team leader, under contract to the LDC.”

“Are you able to assist in our defence?”

“You’ll have to tell me what happened, first, give us some idea of what we’re up against.”

“Starship
Santa Clara
arrived yesterday. Spaceplane landed, bringing new Tyrathca, new equipment. Much needed. Collect rygar crop. Amok
elemental
humans attacked; stole spaceplane. No provocation. No reason. Twenty-three breeder-caste killed. One hundred and ninety vassal
castes killed. Extensive damage. You can see this.”

Reza wondered how he would react if it was xenocs who had attacked a human village in a similar fashion. Allow a group of
those same xenocs in afterwards to talk? Oh no, no way. The human response would be far more basic.

He felt mortally humbled as the breeder’s glassy hazel eyes stared at him. “How many humans took part in this attack?” he
asked.

“Numbers not known with accuracy.”

“Roughly, how many?”

“No more than forty.”

“Forty people did all this?” Ariadne muttered.

Reza waved her quiet. “Did they use a kind of white fire?”

“White fire. Yes. Not true fire.
Elemental
fire. Tyrathca have not been told of human
elemental
ability before. Many times witnessed delusion of form on attacking humans.
Elemental
changes of colour and shape confused soldier caste. Some amok humans stole Tyrathca hunter-caste form. Much damage before
repelled.”

“On behalf of the LDC I apologize profoundly.”

“What use apology? Why not told of human
elemental
ability? Breeder ambassador family assigned to Confederation Assembly will be informed. Denouncement of humans in Assembly.
Tyrathca would never have joined Confederation if had known.”

“I’m sorry. But these humans have been taken over by an invading force. We don’t normally possess this ability. It’s as foreign
to us as it is to you.”

“Lalonde Development Company must remove all
elemental
humans from planet. Tyrathca will not inhabit same planet.”

“We’d love to. But right now it’s all we can do just to stay alive. These
elemental
humans now control the entire Juliffe basin. We need somewhere to stay until a starship can lift us off and we can inform
the Confederation what is happening.”

“Starships battle in orbit this day. Double sun in sky. No starships left.”

“One is coming back for us.”

“When?”

“In a few days.”

“Does starship have the power to kill
elemental
cloud? Tyrathca scared of cloud over rivers. We cannot defeat it.”

“No,” Reza said forlornly. “The starship can’t kill the cloud.” Especially if Shaun Wallace is telling the truth. The thought
was one he had been firmly suppressing. The implications were too frightening. Just how would we actually go about fighting
them?

The Tyrathca let out a clamorous hoot, almost a wail. “Cloud will come here. Cloud will devour us; breeders, children, vassals.
All.”

“You could leave,” Kelly said. “Keep ahead of the cloud.”

“Nowhere is ahead of the cloud for long.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, raising her arm to point at the park, the congregation of breeders. “What is that structure
you have built?

“We are not strong. We have no
elemental
s among us. Only one can now save us from
elemental
humans. We call to our Sleeping God. We show our belief by our homage. We call and call, but the Sleeping God does not yet
awake.”

“I didn’t know you had a God.”

“The family of Sireth-AFL is a custodian of the memory from the days of voyage on flightship Tanjuntic-RI. He shared the memory
with us all after attack by
elemental
humans. Now we are united in prayer. The Sleeping God is our hope for salvation from
elemental
humans. We build its idol to show our faith.”

“This is it?” she asked. “This is what the Sleeping God looks like?”

“Yes. This is the memory of shape. This is our Sleeping God.”

“You mean the Tyrathca on the Tanjuntic-RI actually saw a God?”

“No. Another flightship passed the Sleeping God. Not Tanjuntic-RI.”

“The Sleeping God was in space, then?”

“Why you want to know?”

“I want to know if the Sleeping God can save us from the
elemental
s,” she said smoothly. “Or will it only help Tyrathca?” Christ, this was beautiful, the story to end all stories; human dead
and secrets the Tyrathca had kept since before Earth’s ice age. How long had their arkships been in flight? Thousands of years
at least.

“It will help us because we ask,” Waboto-YAU said.

“Do your legends specifically say it will return to save you?”

“Not legend!” the breeder hooted angrily. “Truth. Humans have legends. Humans lie. Humans become
elemental
. The Sleeping God is stronger than your race. Stronger than all living things.”

“Why do you call it “ ‘Sleeping’?”

“Tyrathca say what is. Humans lie.”

“So it was Sleeping when your flightship found it?”

“Yes.”

“Then how do you know it is strong enough to ward off the
elemental
s?”

“Kelly!” Reza said with edgy vexation.

Waboto-YAU hooted again. The soldiers shifted restlessly in response, eyes boring into the obsessed reporter.

“Sleeping God strong. Humans will learn. Humans must not become
elemental
. Sleeping God will awaken. Sleeping God will avenge all Tyrathca suffering.”

“Kelly, shut up, now. That’s an order,” Reza datavised when he saw her gathering herself for more questions. “Thank you for
telling us of the Sleeping God,” he said to Waboto-YAU.

Kelly fumed in moody silence.

“Sleeping God dreams of the universe,” the breeder said. “All that happens is known to it. It will hear our call. It will
answer. It will come.”

“The human
elementals
may attack you again,” Reza warned. “Before the Sleeping God arrives.”

“We know. We pray hard.” Waboto-YAU twittered mournfully, head swinging round to gaze at the disk. “Now you have heard the
fate of Coastuc-RT. Are you able to assist soldier caste in defence?”

“No.” Reza heard Kelly’s hissed intake of breath. “Our weapons are not as powerful as those of your soldiers. We cannot assist
in your defence.”

“Then go.”

Vast tracts of electric, electromagnetic, and magnetic energy seethed and sparked across a roughly circular section in the
outermost band of Murora’s rings, eight thousand kilometres in diameter. Dust, held so long in equilibrium, exploited its
liberation to squall in microburst vortices around the solid imperturbable boulders and jagged icebergs which made up the
bulk of the ring, their gyrations mirroring the rowdy cloudscape a hundred and seventy thousand kilometres below. The epicentre,
where the
Lady Macbeth
had plunged into the drive-fomented particles, was still glowing a nervous blue as brumal waves of static washed through
the thinning molecular zephyr of vaporized rock and ice.

The total energy input from the starship’s fusion drives and the multiple combat-wasp explosions was taking a long time to
disperse. Their full effect would take months if not years to sink back to normality. Thermally and electromagnetically, the
rippling circle was the equivalent of an Arctic whiteout to any probing sensors.

It meant the
Maranta
and the
Gramine
knew little of what was going on below the surface. They kept station ten kilometres above the fuzzy boundary where boulders
and ice gave way first to pebbles and then finally dust; all sensor clusters extended, focused on the disquieted strata of
particles under their hulls. For the first couple of kilometres the image was sharp and reasonably clear, below that it slowly
disintegrated until at seven kilometres there was nothing but a sheet of electronic slush.

The possessed who commanded the starships now had started their search right at the heart, the exact coordinate where
Lady Macbeth
had entered. Then
Maranta
had manoeuvred into an orbit five kilometres lower, while the
Gramine
had raised its altitude by a similar amount. They slowly drifted apart,
Maranta
edging ahead of the phosphorescent blue splash,
Gramine
falling behind.

There had been no sign of their prey. Nor any proof to confirm the
Lady Macbeth
had survived her impact with the rings. No wreckage had been detected. Although it was a slim chance any ever would. If she
had detonated when she hit, the blowout of her drive tubes’ escaping plasma would probably have vaporized most of her. And
any fragments which did survive would have been flung over a huge area. The ring was eighty kilometres thick, enough volume
to lose an entire squadron in.

They were further hindered by the way their energistically charged bodies interfered with on-board systems. Sensors already
labouring at the limit of their resolution to try and unscramble the chaos suffered infuriating glitches and power surges,
producing gaps in the overall coverage. But the crews persevered. Debris was virtually impossible to locate, but an operating
starship emitted heat, and electromagnetic impulses, and a strong magnetic flux. If she was there, they would find her eventually.

The soldier-caste vassals stayed with them until the hovercraft reached the top of the Coastuc-RT’s valley. More tumid rain-clouds
were approaching fast from the east, borne by the obdurate breeze. Reza judged they should just about reach the other hovercraft
by the time they arrived. Both land and sky ahead were grey. Northwards, the red cloud cast a dispiriting corona, looking
for all the world as though magma was floating, light as thistledown, through the air.