Tides of Light (50 page)

Toby had taken the Aspect, of course. Not simply because Family rules were firmly against carrying a dead lover; that was
inviting disaster. No, the overpowering reason had been that Killeen was too shaken to accept Shibo’s Aspect. He had recovered
only when her voice spoke to him through Toby. She had chided him and somehow dragged him back into the world. He had clung
to her voice.

But it was only a voice. He would never see her again, never touch her silky skin, see the glinting mirth in her eyes—

He made himself stop. It was pointless. Stupid.

Killeen had told himself this a hundred times through the last few days. His emotions were held in check only by the necessity
of command. Chaos would not wait for his grief to abate.

He looked back at the crescent of New Bishop. Explosions still flickered there on the nightside. Cyber conflict still raged.
Quath’s allies seemed to have the upper hand now, though.

The Family had been fortunate to take only a few dozen casualties there. Only because humans mattered so little had they been
able to slip away.

Cermo and Jocelyn had been resourceful and brave in getting the Family off the planet. In the chaos that followed His Supremacy’s
death, they had held the Family together and slipped away from the Tribe.

The revelation that His Supremacy was a mech interloper had been enough to shatter the Tribal organization. The remaining
Cybers had inflicted more casualties, but they, too, had seemed leaderless.

Jocelyn’s dash and Cermo’s confidence in the face of what seemed utter disaster had extracted Family Bishop with deft timing.
Killeen knew well the difficulties of such a maneuver, the most intricate of all tactical feats. He had decorated both officers.

None of their work on the ground would have meant anything without Quath’s help, of course. She had steered the sleek Flitter
craft down to the surface, understanding that the Family had to be kept intact.

In the warfare between Cybers a mere band of fleeing humans was now irrelevant. The Flitters had managed to get off again
with the Family aboard. No one fired at them.

Some members of the Tribe had rushed toward the shuttles when they saw the landings. They had gathered at the Bishop perimeter
and begged to go, too.

Killeen had been adamant. He could not trust anyone from a Tribe already infiltrated by mech-ridden humans. They had taken
most of Family Seben and some other ragtag elements of the Tribe. But once aboard, each was carefully inspected. Three proved
to have mech inlay riders in their skulls.

They were killed. The decision had been a bitter one, but he had to make it. For a while he tortured himself with the admission
that the decision was easier since he had not done the killing himself. But Jocelyn and Cermo had carried out his wishes without
hesitation. In many ways, he reflected, they were tougher than he could ever be.

We have word which may reconcile you to the outcome
, came Quath’s diffuse message.

The bulky alien was inside the ship, but that did not impede communication between them. Killeen still did not know how this
was done and expected he never would.

The alien did not speak in clear sentences. Killeen had to frame the filmy impressions he received into something resembling
words before he could fully comprehend. It was like groping through a fog while fitful chill breezes struck you in the face.
Each touch brought new comprehension. Equally, each brush left unanswerable questions in its wake. And the mist remained.

Killeen could not follow Quath’s meaning. “How so?”

The Tukar’ramin now prevails in her struggle. Remnant elements flee. The Illuminates of good spirit shall emerge triumphant
.

Much of this gave Killeen only a diffuse sense of the vast events playing out around New Bishop. He knew now, after only days
of direct communication with Quath, that he would never fathom all the alien tried to convey. Much of Quath’s explanations
were unintelligible. The Illuminates were superior intelligences, apparently, but not above resolving disagreement by force.
Killeen’s task was to see that their conflicts did not casually and unthinkingly destroy his Family.

“How’s that affect us?”

The Tukar’ramin will guarantee that those of your kind left behind shall be allowed to live
.

Killeen sent Quath several questions before he was sure this was what the alien meant. When he finally believed it a weight
rose from him. While Family Bishop owed the Tribe a debt for taking them in, that had been canceled by His Supremacy’s betrayal.
Still, he was glad that the vestiges of humanity left behind could survive.

“Send my thanks,” Killeen said. The words were inadequate but he knew that Quath sensed his true feelings and would convey
them to whatever the Tukar’ramin was.

Hope rose in him. “Does this mean whatever’s followin’ us’ll stop?”

This time the answer was clear:

No. The renegade elements launched this attack ship after us as one of their final measures. It cannot be recalled. When it
comes within range it will fire
.

“You can deflect whatever it’s got?”

Once, perhaps twice. Not for long
.

Quath’s answer came laced with somber forebodings. The alien hoped and feared, but other emotions which Killeen could not
name flowed beneath the surface. They seemed more like quick bursts of separate lives, fragments of possibility. He was never
sure which facet of Quath he spoke to. Sometimes the alien was extraordinarily patient. Other times he felt as though he were
talking to a harried servant while the master of the house was preoccupied elsewhere.

But at least the alien’s nature might slowly unfold. Other riddles would never be answered. Killeen amped his opticals and
could just barely make out the rim of New Bishop. The Cyber warrens were huge now, a belt circling far out from the planet.
Could such massive mazes truly clasp and tame the energy of a whole sun? The task seemed daunting even for creatures who could
suck to cores from worlds.

A still deeper puzzle spun at the rim of New Bishop. Slow movement told him that Skysower churned on. More shadowy mystery.

He would never know if that entity was a natural consequence of life or an engineering construct made by beings of ancient
and daunting ability. He could scarcely believe that it carried out such massive purpose while obeying the timeless commands
of embedded chemistry and genetics. Such complexity seemed impossible without intelligence. Yet Killeen had to admit that
he knew nothing of events on this scale. As a lower-order intelligence, he was surely no good judge of limits.

—That Cyber ship’s fired somethin’ at us,—Shibo’s clipped voice came to him.

Killeen called, “Range and time?”

—Can’t tell. Closing fast.—Her voice still sent a pang through him.

“What’s… what’s it doing?”

—More dodging, looks like.—The Shibo Aspect was crisp and efficient. He had to remember that she had not truly suffered her
own death and its aftermath. This Shibo was the woman who last remembered being scooped up by Quath. She would be that person
eternally.

“Crew ready at locks?” he asked.

—Yessir,—Jocelyn answered.—Suited up.—

“Check the seals again.”

—Done that already.—

“I said
again
.”

Jocelyn had been subdued since she and Cermo returned to
Argo
. Her leadership during the Family’s escape from the Tribe had partly repaired the antagonism between her and Killeen. Once
aboard
Argo
she had mutely accepted Killeen as Cap’n, never asserting herself. Still, Killeen knew that Jocelyn’s ambition had been damped
but not destroyed.

A pause. “How’s it going?” he prompted.

—Uh, we found a small problem.—

“What?” he demanded impatiently.

—Seal is broken. We’re patching it again.—

The chagrined note in Jocelyn’s voice gave Killeen a small, pleasurable smile. He had made all crew that could be spared from
crucial ship operations work incessantly on the sewage-soaked corridors. The elements of Family Seben and other Tribal remnants
had been rebellious, but he had sternly broken their resistance.

Someone had to do the job, after all. Quath had blundered through
Argo
while it was abandoned. She had found
the Legacies but in the process had opened the deck where the plumbing had malfed. Now the mess covered three decks. They
had sealed off the offending zone, using vacuum-worthy sealants.

The irksome task had consumed much labor which might have gone into erecting defenses… though it was unlikely that any puny
human weapons would count much in the coming encounter.
Argo
had nothing beyond simple shields.

The approaching Cyber missiles might be fooled by Quath at first, but she was sure they were intelligent weapons. That meant
each incoming missile learned from observing the one before it. If Quath failed…

Killeen tried to catch a glimpse of the approaching enemy. “Shibo! Let me have the grid.”

Her quick response sent a crosshatched picture into his left eye. Three winking red dots trailed
Argo
, swelling visibly.

Killeen went back to normal sight. He had chosen to meet their fate while out here, where he could see and judge with his
own eyes. Electronic helpers were all very fine, but some sense of human dignity demanded that he use his own capabilities
now. A Cap’n should judge from his own experience.

And being outside might be safer if things went badly. He had officers posted at each lock to evacuate crew in pressure suits
if
Argo
’s hull split. How they could survive for long without a functioning ship Killeen could not imagine, but at least such preparations
gave them all something to do before the battle. Anything was better for the crew than agonized waiting.

Which was, he reminded himself, just what he was doing. He stopped fretting and walked along the gently curving hull.
Argo
was headed out from the waning sun. Its lessened light made the ivory washes of molecular clouds seem
nearby. They bore now toward the seething disk of the Eater itself.

—They’re coming fast,—Shibo sent.

“Quath?”

We are acting
.

Killeen held his breath. Suddenly the leading missile veered to the side. It wobbled and then streaked away.

We have deceived the first
.

As Quath spoke, the missile burst silently into a crimson ball.

“Shibo?”

—Our shields are stopping the UV pulses.—

“Good.”

But those were trivial threats. The main purpose of the missiles was simple: to crack
Argo’
s hull.

The two remaining missiles had swollen to red disks in Shibo’s grid.

We are tumbling the second
.

One of the disks bobbed randomly. Killeen watched it explode into another soundless crimson globe.

We attempt the third
.

“Are there others behind these?”

Not yet
.

Then there was still a chance.

We are… difficulty… difficulty…

For the first time Quath’s tone was streaked with warring impressions. Killeen had the sensation of watching multiple minds
clamor and struggle to a single purpose. Before he could comprehend this he felt a heavy, drumroll urgency.

We… fail
.

Death grew behind them. Killeen could see the sleek form now.

“Quath! Isn’t there—”

No. It resists my deceptions
.

Killeen stared at the rapidly growing dot. In the sharp clarity of vacuum he felt as though he could almost reach out and
slap it away. Or throw something at it. In space even insubstantial things could—

The idea was so simple it startled him.

“Jocelyn! Cermo!”

—Yeasay!—

“Release! Open the locks!”

—Yessir!—they answered together.

Clouds spurted from three openings in
Argo’
s hull. On signal the maintenance locks had popped open in the polluted zone of the ship. Now the air rushed out, carrying
foul fluids with it. Anything left within quickly boiled away into hard vacuum.

Sunlight caught the expanding clouds. Suddenly they became huge, spreading foils. Billowing yellow wings seemed to twist and
fan, as though
Argo
glided forward by beating against utter vacuum. Expanding gossamer veils trailed behind as the ship steadily accelerated
away.

Killeen stood uphull from the locks and so was spared the spray. For long moments the fluids burst into sunlight. Gusts came
forth. Each added more radiance to the fluttering wake.

“Shibo! Side vector!”

Argo
lurched. Shibo had fired the jets on one side. The ship coasted sidewise.

Now Killeen could not see the approaching enemy. The luminous fog obscured everything. He hoped that the missile saw the same
wreathed confusion.

“Quath?”

Approaching hard. Accelerating
.

“Fire main engine!”

To stay on the hull Killeen had to catch himself against a pipe.
Argo
accelerated strongly.

Glory burst behind them. The plasma drive struck the wake cloud. The agitated ions immediately provoked answering radiation
from the gas. Like a searchlight playing through clotted fog, the exhaust brilliantly lit a huge irregular blob of mist.

Killeen held on against the rising thrust. He had done all he could. Now—

A fireball flared nearby. It lit the billowing fog further, casting shock waves of luminescence.

“Missed!” he cried.

—Hot damn!—Cermo shouted.

Shibo laughed. Her tinkling voice rang in his ears.

—Let ’em eat shit!—Cermo yelled.

“And so they have,” Killeen said grimly. “Shibo?”

—No damage reports.—

“It went off where it thought we were. Couldn’t find its way through all our crap.”

Laughter pealed through the comm. Killeen could not help himself; he joined in.

“Quath?”