Stan Nicholls - Quicksilver Zenith

Another tester held a combat wand. It was snub and black, and it joined to a handgrip with leather tendrils that looped around her fingers and wrist. When she pointed, the wand belched apple-sized fireballs. The flaming orbs burst on contact, setting the manikins ablaze. Some missed and bounced around the range before detonating. Falling short of its target, a fireball glanced off the paving and ricocheted towards Karr. It struck the near-invisible shield directly in front of his face, erupting in a brilliant red and yellow flash. Instinctively, he recoiled, though he knew he couldn’t be touched.

The tester gave him a contrite grin. He thought how very young she looked.

Goyter appeared at Karr’s side. ‘We’re working on their stability,’ she said, nodding at the wand. In a lower voice, she added, ‘It’s not like you to be so jumpy. Everything all right?’

‘I’m fine. Just … tired.’

‘Hmm.’ Looking unconvinced, she went back to her chores.

Karr stood with eyes closed, massaging the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger.

In the shadows of a nearby recess, something stirred. Slowly, it dragged its bulk into the light. The creature was powerfully built, and its massive shoulders were broad. It was covered in abundant dark fur, with short, red-brown hair on its paler chest. Its face resembled old leather; its nose was flattened, its eyes black. Moving with a rolling gait, knuckles almost brushing the floor, it made for the patrician.

Alerted by the sound of its shuffling approach, Karr turned.

‘What do you think?’ the gorilla said. It gave a lumbering pirouette, an unconscious parody of an arthritic matron displaying a new gown. ‘It’s a bit bulky, but much more comfortable than that little-girl persona. With a few adjustments it should –’

‘For the gods’ sake, spare us,’ Karr interrupted wearily.

‘What?’

‘I preferred the child.’

‘Oh.’ Insofar as it was possible, the gorilla looked deflated. ‘Why?’

‘Because you keep chopping and changing. At least we knew where we were with her. Irritating as she was.’

‘The time seemed right for a change.’

‘We have enough change to cope with as it is, don’t you think?’

‘That’s rich, coming from you.’

‘You can have too much of the wrong sort. Look, I find debating with an ape a bit beyond my present mood. So, if you wouldn’t mind …’

The gorilla held up its palms in a mollifying gesture. ‘Point taken.’ It swung around and loped back to its nook, arms dangling, legs bowed.

There was a commotion in the half light of the alcove; a flickering of intense radiance, a honey-coloured haze and the whiff of a pungent, sulphurous odour. A moment passed, the furore died down. Then a lanky man emerged from the cranny.

He was old and grizzle-faced, but his back was straight and his stride steadfast. His apparel consisted of a simple blue robe held fast by a cummerbund, and gold braided slippers; a style favoured by the sorcerer classes. As he walked he smoothed down errant strands of his grey hair and copious beard.

‘I have to say your attitude’s more than a little acidic today, Patrician,’ he observed.

‘I’m sorry, Phoenix. It’s a fraught time.’

‘You’re exhausted, man.’

‘The pressure’s on. With the move so near –’

‘You can’t bear the weight of the world on your own shoulders. You look as though you’ve got a foot in the grave. You have to learn to relax.’

‘ Relax? How can I relax? The preparations, the logistics, the number of people involved; the sheer scale of what we’re trying to do is staggering.’

‘Even so, you should let go a bit. Delegate.’

‘Did you know,’ Karr replied, ignoring this advice, ‘that half a dozen homes of colonial administrators went up in flames last night?’

‘I heard.’

‘That wasn’t our doing. People are starting to take matters into their own hands.’

‘That’s good, isn’t it? The more blows the regime suffers, the better for our cause, surely?’

‘Armed rebellion’s not the plan, you know that. We harry them, yes, but we don’t want outright confrontation. Everything we’re trying to do is predicated on the fact that we couldn’t win that way.’

‘There’s nothing we can do about it, Karr. If the populace feels aggrieved enough to hit out, who are we, of all people, to say they can’t?’

‘We don’t need anarchy.’

‘I’m not sure I agree with that. The clampdown’s increased recruitment, if nothing else.’

‘And it’s all my fault.’

‘What is?’

‘Three months of worsening repression. Curfews, innocents rounded up, torture, summary executions; all sparked off by the raid on the records office. I should never have authorised the mission. It was a mistake.’

‘No, it wasn’t. We hit them where it hurts, and we knew there were likely to be repercussions. This constant blaming of yourself is getting tiresome.’

‘Anything we gained has been outweighed by the consequences. The paladins have been given their head. Such small freedoms as we had are even smaller. Why shouldn’t I blame myself?’

‘Because it isn’t your fault. Or is your self-regard so great that you can’t see you’re no more of a cog than the rest of us? You’re not alone in trying to steer this scheme, you know.’

Karr looked chastened. ‘I suppose I deserved that. I guess what’s troubling me is that I hoped we’d have more control at this point.’

‘Control’s an illusion, you should realise that by now. The best we can do is ride the surge. Don’t lose faith, Karr, not now. Not when we’re this close, and when our destination’s causing so much strife.’

‘Strife’s too hard a word. Some have still to be convinced, that’s all.’

‘Not hard to see why, is it?’ The wizard crossed his arms. ‘I mean, of all the places to pick –’

‘Don’t start that again, Phoenix, please. The refuge was agreed by all of you in Covenant, and by the full Council.’

‘I know, I know. I’m just saying it’s an … unusual choice. And that’s not a rare opinion among those who know about it.’

‘The issue’s settled. There’s no turning back now.’

‘All I’m doing is reminding you that the decision isn’t universally popular,’ Phoenix pointed out, a testy note creeping into his voice.

‘Then you’re saying nothing that hasn’t already been said.’

Just as they reached a stalemate, Goyter appeared with a pair of new arrivals. One was tall and hardy, his garb black, his eyes dark and penetrating. In his wake came a youth, nearly a man; not shaven like his companion but striving for whiskers, and acting coy.

‘Morning, Reeth,’ Karr greeted the older man, glad of the interruption.

Caldason nodded.

‘And how are you this day?’ Karr inquired of the youth.

Kutch Pirathon said nothing, looking instead to the Qalochian.

‘It’s been happening again,’ Caldason explained.

‘The visions?’ Phoenix asked.

‘And his way of trying to avoid them.’

Kutch stared at his feet.

Phoenix sighed. ‘We have to get to the root of this.’ To Caldason, he added, ‘It would help if we knew more about what he was seeing.’

‘I’ve told you all I can about that.’ The response was frosty enough to forbid further questioning.

‘Come on, Kutch, let’s see if we can talk this through.’ Phoenix took the boy’s arm.

‘Just a minute,’ Karr said. He indicated Kutch’s blood-speckled jerkin. ‘What’s that?’

‘What do you think it is?’ Caldason returned, casually defiant.

‘How many times do I have to tell you about your brawling?’

‘You can say it as often as you like. It won’t stop me acting as I see fit.’