Barrington Bayley - Barrington Bayley SF Gateway Omnibus - The Soul of the Robot, The Knights of the Limits, The Fall of Chronopolis

The Imperator paused to allow them to digest its words.

‘You say we have fought this beast for aeons,’ called a brave archivist, ‘but the empire itself has not existed that long.’

Something resembling a laugh issued from the machine. ‘The empire has risen, fallen, and risen again, countless times. All that will be has been, again and again and again. Always, at this point, we have managed to foil Hulmu; always we have managed to resurrect the empire by the same means that he destroyed it. The process has, I estimate, gone through the cycle one billion times.

‘But I have not completed my tale. How did the empire arise? It was no accident. Of those involved in so rashly presenting mankind with time-travel one, San Hevatar, saw the danger. He knew that the evil Traumatic sect had to be countered. He founded the Church to fight Hulmu. He designed the rituals of the Church as a weapon and a bastion against Hulmu. That is why, Aton, your prayer was so effective against the Minion; it is especially constructed to contain vibrations he cannot endure. If it were not for the Church, all might have fallen victims to Hulmu by now.’

‘You say this,’ pointed out Aton seriously, ‘but the San Hevatar I have met did not strike me as being aware of it.’

‘He was not. Perhaps the first time around he was. But now, after so many changes and resurrections, we move through our parts as if in a dream. Did you know that you must fight the Minion? Even I did not know, I only remembered flashes, like San Hevatar. Most of the time I am completely insane, as your friend Prince Vro tells you. I am insane, and know only these lucid periods when the empire has vanished. Then I travel into the far future to visit the civilisations there, and everything becomes clear.’

‘The future people,’ Inpriss objected, ‘why don’t they help us to fight Hulmu?’

‘They cannot, and in any case they do not believe in Hulmu. They know only that the secret of time-travel is the most dangerous secret in the universe, that if it is not controlled it can destroy time. That is why they want the empire continually to rise and fall in its war with the Hegemony; it is history’s warning to mankind. There are no Chronotic empires in future ages; men are too afraid. But if the example of the empire were not before them then they might forget and begin to tamper with time.’

‘And you,’ said Aton. ‘Who are you? What are you?’

‘I am the oldest part of the empire. I began life as an administrative computer in the physics laboratories of Monolith Industries. I took part in the original discoveries concerning pi-mesons. When the struggle with the Minion began I played a leading part in it. Gradually I was extended and increased my intelligence. Now I and the Minion are the main actors in the drama. He has an advantage because he is coached by Hulmu. With every cycle he grows stronger. We, too, must grow stronger, Aton! I could not tell you how often you have fought the Minion!’

‘One billion times,’ Aton said dryly.

‘No, not so. No one could be expected to endure that for so long. Every so often fate changes the champion who challenges him. Once it was Commander Haight; now he has been relieved of the duty and knows nothing of it. Next time it may be you, or it may be another. I cannot tell. But someone always arises with sufficient power to struggle against him. And always I am here to see that he does so. Eventually, perhaps, I will have evolved sufficiently to play the role myself.’

The Imperator ’s hum grew louder. ‘You must understand that of the world as it was before the empire arose nothing remains. Even the calendar is different. Dwight Rilke’s discovery was made in the twenty-fourth century of their era; and the Stop Barrier was eventually placed in what was their fifteenth century, before a technological society had even developed.’

‘You speak of resurrecting the empire,’ said Mayar, still puzzled, ‘but how can that be? How can it possibly be accomplished?’

‘In the same way that the Minion hoped to accomplish a world fit for Hulmu to live in. We have Hulmu’s time-distorter. Hulmu misled the Minion when he represented himself as the creator and projector of the images on the screen of time; he is not that, merely an impotent spectator. Nevertheless his time-distorter can, to an extent, achieve creation.’

The Imperator rolled forward and stood over those present in an almost menacing fashion. ‘The strat, just before the film of orthogonal time forms, is like a supersaturated solution waiting to be seeded. The time-distorter is designed to feed vibrations into that solution, and from those vibrations a world will grow. Here we have all the components to recreate the empire. We have the Achronal Archives with their detailed knowledge of the empire. The rituals of the Church themselves are the basis whereby the essence of the empire can be restored; San Hevatar intended them that way. We have the time-distorter to project all this on to the newly forming orthogonal world, and we have myself, Imperator , to operate it!’

With a small sharp explosion a section of the Imperator fell away to reveal a neat concavity. ‘Long ago I equipped myself for this task. Fit the distorter into this space. Jack into me the output leads from your archival computers. Quickly, there is little time! I will re-create all the original conditions, the starting point from which the empire will burgeon! All will be foreordained! The war with Humlu must continue eternally!’

Inpriss Sorce gave a little cry. ‘Must I go through it all again?’ she quavered.

‘There may be variations,’ the resonant voice said in a near-whisper. ‘Perhaps next time you will live in peace. Perhaps, too, some other officer of the Time Service, not Captain Mond Aton, will become familiar with the strat and be called upon to fight the Minion. Only one thing is certain; if the empire falls and cannot be reformed, then mankind falls to Hulmu, and monsters crawl out of the deeps of potential time to claim the Earth.’

While the machine spoke, the archivists were busy doing its bidding; the Imperator ’s word was law.

And when at last the time-distorter was triggered and mighty energies began issuing from its mouth, and when at the same time they all began to fade out of existence, Aton, holding Inpriss’s hand, felt in the depths of his being that this was not the end, that he would be called on, once more, to be a servant of the empire, and that the war, truly, was eternal.

‘These pi-mesons certainly are tricky fellers,’ said Dwight Rilke.

‘Tricky as hell,’ agreed Humbart.

Rilke threw down his pencil and leaned back. Vague thoughts and ideas drifted through his mind, all related to the main problem: how to isolate pi-mesons in a stable state, for long enough and in sufficient quantity to do something with them.

His gaze fell on the computer across the room. Its unusual bulk was due to the fact that it incorporated its own compact nuclear power unit as insurance against the erratic electricity supply. The civil disturbances were becoming more pronounced of late and the computer did most of the administrative work for the branch.

Rilke had decided on a nickname for the machine, because of the imperious way it delivered data.

He would call it Imperator .

The door opened. One of the staff girls came in with a sheaf of reports.

‘Thank you, Miss Sorce,’ Absol Humbart said.

Age of Adventure

Annihilation Factor

Collision with Chronos

Empire of Two Worlds

Sinners of Erspia