L Modesitt - Empress of Eternity

"Just a few minutes ago."

"Most amusing."

"It?s true. All you have to do is wait."

"I could brain-scan all of you."

Eltyn didn?t mention that the supervisor was outnumbered and outweaponed. That wouldn?t last long.

"That wouldn?t make you any better than riffies and The Twenty," snapped Rhyana.

"We?ve worked hard to get here. You might look over the riffie?s body." She half-turned and pointed to the limp figure on the composite floor of the tunnel. "It might tell you something."

Eltyn frowned. Was there a pulse-net in Chiental? He extended a probe, trying to determine…

Authenticate! demanded the system.

Eltyn entered his TechOversight codes and ID.

Accepted. Level three.

Eltyn looked to Faelyna and mouthed, "Pulse-net."

After a moment, she nodded and smiled.

Interrogative access? demanded someone.

The supervisor glanced from Faelyna to Eltyn, then back to her.

Project Canal-three, MetCom cover, replied Eltyn. He had the feeling that the Chiental pulse-net was operating on individual segregation, except possibly on the supervisory level. They?d never needed that at the canal station, not with two people. How many techs and others were sheltered on the multiple levels of the redoubt?

Supervisor Tauryl…bring the canal techs to debriefing section. The net command conveyed absolute authority.

Even so, Eltyn wondered how well the speaker might do against the Bridge-keeper. He kept the thought to himself. No one else in the Ruche was likely to ever enter the station.

"How did you manage that?" asked Tauryl.

"Senior net access," replied Eltyn.

"You might as well come, too," Tauryl said, glancing at Rhyana. "Chief Interrogator Bernyt will want to know everything."

"What about the riffie?" demanded Rhyana.

"I?ve sent for a crew to pick it up. Now…let?s go." He pointed deeper into the mountain tunnel.

Chief Interrogator? Exactly what had they gotten themselves into? questioned Eltyn.

Faelyna eased closer to Eltyn, murmuring, "Just tell them everything about the Bridge systems."

Eltyn didn?t understand what she meant, but only for a moment.

"No whispering!"

"I was just telling him to make sure to tell them everything."

"You both will. The interrogators are quite thorough."

"We?re both TechOversight operatives," Eltyn pointed out.

"You say you are. The interrogators will make certain."

Eltyn had no doubts of that, nor that the process would be painful to some degree. Still…what else could they have done?

The silvery shadows vanished from the main chamber of the station, and Maertyn glanced around, taking in the familiar furniture-and the still-unfamiliar ghostly light-images of unfathomable equipment. His eyes came to rest on Maarlyna, wearing the red singlesuit that remained an instant reminder of how much had changed so quickly between them.

"Dead hand of a dead faith?" offered Maertyn. "Where did that come from?"

For a moment, Maarlyna did not answer, her eyes and senses still somewhere else. Then she looked at Maertyn and smiled, wanly. "From me. Well…the words were mine, but it came from seeing everything the old keepers saw. Why do you ask?"

"The words seemed strange…that?s all."

"Strange…or strange coming from me?"

"Both," he admitted.

"What I said is the problem in Caelaarn, too, dearest."

"There are more than a few problems in Caelaarn," Maertyn admitted, "but I don?t see the dead hand of faith as one of them."

"Dead hand of a dead faith…that?s what I said."

"What did you mean by that?"

"Why can?t you or anyone else see what I see here in the station? What I saw from the beginning and didn?t mention because I was afraid you?d think I had lost my mind?"

Maertyn knew it had to have had something to do with the regeneration and partial recloning that had restored her. "Because you see things differently."

"Why?"

He shrugged.

"I had to learn to see all over again. You remember that?"

"Yes," he responded with caution.

"I learned then that we don?t actually see the world around us. Our eyes scan constantly, relaying bits of information to our brains, and our brains interpret that information into a coherent whole. They also filter out anything that doesn?t seem…relevant…I?m guessing, but seeing event-points outside or away from where we are makes surviving harder, not easier, and our brains have to process a great deal anyway."

"What does this have to do with faith, dead faith?"

"What you see is based partly on what you believe, even if what you believe is not truly the way things are." She shook her head. "The Unity…everyone believes that biological solutions are always the best. That?s faith. The ancient ancients believed that technology could solve everything. That?s another kind of faith. Their ancestors believed in deities who would put things right if one only believed. The Ruche believe common values will prevail. They?re all faiths, and because they?re incomplete, they?re dead. Those who follow those faiths are chained by the dead hand-"

"Of a dead faith," he finished. "The only problem is that people won?t accept that."

"That?s why, I think, I felt better when I came here, even though I didn?t know why."

Maertyn wasn?t quite sure what to say to that. After several moments that felt endless, he finally said, "Can you rest for a bit before you deal with the Vanir? You?re looking pale."

"Only a little while." Maarlyna stepped back and settled into the antique Laarnian chair, taking a slow deep breath, then another, as if what she had said to him had been an effort.

As he seated himself across from her, Maertyn half-smiled, reflecting that the chair had existed for little over a century and that he?d thought of it as almost ancient while standing in a structure that predated his entire culture by hundreds of thousands, if not millions of years. The flickering of the ghost images reminded him of another nagging question. He cleared his throat.

"What is it?" Maarlyna?s words were gentle.

"I see all these images of equipment lining the walls, and I?m guessing that they come from past times. The station still operates, but there?s no equipment in our time, and there hasn?t been for a long time. And I know time doesn?t exist the way I?ve always thought of it, but…if the station still operates…what happened to everything?"

"I wondered about that, too." Maarlyna?s lips quirked. "I asked…and searched. In the last years before the great catastrophe, the ancients changed everything and incorporated all the functions into the structure, the stone, itself, so that nothing could ever damage it."

"But they couldn?t save themselves or their civilization?"

"How many times have you told me that finding practical solutions that could be readily implemented is easy, but that getting people to accept them is almost impossible?"

He had to smile at hearing his own words from her.

"Before long, I?ll need to talk to the Vanir."

"I thought you could enter their time right after you left…"

"It?s not that simple. They need time to prepare…and there?s the resonance problem."

"You mentioned that before. Why do actions now or with the Ruche or with the Vanir have any direct relationship to each other? They?re in different times…event-points…as you call them."

Maarlyna sighed. "I?m not sure I understand enough to make it clear, and some of the words…some of the concepts…don?t exactly translate. The universe…the multiverse…religious people, believers, all tend to think that there is something beyond it. There isn?t. On the other side, the rationalists assume that any universe is, I?d guess you?d say, limited and neutral. It?s not. The confluence of all actions within its event-points determines its…flow. Actions by intelligences have a greater proportional impact as the universe…progresses…"