The Namura Stone (43 page)

The prognosticator procrastinated by calling for a complete council of guardians on the Island of the Enjoined, but he knew that his future was looking particularly dark. There would be no cryonutrient tank for him unless he came out of this situation reinforced as a leader, as the tallest of the twelve, unless it were perceived that he had led the Dessites on to greater things.

Meanwhile, he fumed quietly, so angry that liquid was seeping out from under his membranes.

DIVA WAITED UNTIL the Ammonites had pressed close enough to burn her, and then transported in one small jump just out of their reach. The reaction was immediate, furious, uncontrolled. They swept after her, spinning furiously themselves, appalled that anything should be able to resist their mental attack.

She could feel them directing all of their mental force against her, and it was disconcerting. They were attempting to tug her back towards them, to slow her down for long enough that they would be able to burn her by spinning against her. She could feel that they were quite prepared to lose several of their own people if necessary. They considered her intrusion worth the price of some of their own lives.

Even though she was immune to their mental manipulation, she was not completely able to ignore it. The sheer weight of their minds was exerting a dragging effect, and she could feel herself gradually slowing. They were succeeding in wearing her down; she knew that she wouldn’t be able to keep this up for very much longer.

She raced on, back into the Eye of Enara, her small shape casting an almost imperceptible shadow on the green magmite floor of the structure. The dome must have covered at least twenty kilometres in width, but the smoothness of the shining surface made it look as if some divine hand had placed a huge floor across that part of the planet, as if someone had planned some sort of a giant house when the planet formed.

Soon, she was surrounded again on all sides. There were enough of the Ammonites to be able to position themselves in front of her trajectory, forcing her to turn in ever smaller circles until she became trapped again.

Diva was still exultant. This was going even better than she had dared expect. The whole of Enara seemed to have joined forces against her, which she hoped meant that there was no energy left to fight the canths, or support the Dessites.

She was tiring, though. Each race took more and more out of her; each transport was more of a struggle. And each time she was being surrounded more and more quickly. She would only be able to manage one or two more. Then it would be time to return to Pictoria, where she would need to go to recover.

She winced as one of the Ammonites got too close, burning her quite badly before she managed to transport away. Just a few more, she promised herself. Only a few more. Again she led them back to the Eye of Enara, determined to make them break the astrand for as long as she possibly could. The longer she could keep them away from their damaging mindmerge, the longer Arcan and the others would have to make the Dessites change their minds.

LEDIN AND SIX were still watching the Dessites nearby closely. They could feel the tension in the air, and knew that they would have very little time to act if any of the guards decided to move. It was unlikely that such an important Dessite as the prognosticator would himself resort to violence. Even though he was angry, he would protect himself, and it would be the guards facing them who might try to change the situation. They waited, warily.

Then some unspoken agreement rustled through the guards, and they dived, as one, towards the two Kwaidians. There was a cry of alarm from the visitor, but his warning was unnecessary; both of the Kwaidians had already reacted.

While Six had plunged his kris into the neck of the nearest Dessite, at least twice his own size, Ledin had taken his sword to the burly shape in front of him, and was struggling to withdraw it from the heap of blubber it had cut through. Neither of the two Dessites were down, yet, but both had suffered wounds that would slow them considerably.

Arcan flashed, and all the other Dessites in the room except the prognosticator, Exemphendiss, and the two Dessites Six and Ledin were actually fighting, disappeared.

The prognosticator’s eyefolds stiffened again, showing his anger at this capability, but he managed to still his membranes. Privately, he was beginning to realize that they might never be able to conquer this being. It was a hard blow, because they could have explored all the galaxy if their stratagems had succeeded, but he was a pragmatist, and his experience had taught him the value of resilience. He had suffered set-backs in his career before, and what had differentiated him from the rest was his ability to accept changes, to adapt to them. He began to think more incisively, more quickly.

Six struck back at the neck of the Dessite, again managing to pierce through the heavy flesh, to quite a substantial depth. The alien in front of him bent over to one side, badly wounded, and it was a moment to push heavily in the same direction and knock him over completely. As soon as Arcan saw that Six had finished his fight and disengaged from the alien, his opponent disappeared.

Ledin fought on. His first blow had not connected with the neck, which was a pity, because of the sheer size and weight of his foe. Twice his height and many times his weight made it more difficult to win the fight, especially now that he had lost the advantage of surprise.

Six raised his own sword and was about to join in the struggle when Ledin stopped him with a shout.

“Leave him to me!”

Six looked at his friend. Ledin’s face was set, as if he would kill anybody who dared to poach his territory. Six gave a shrug and looked in Arcan’s direction. After all, what was a man to do? There were certain rules in combat which should not be broken.

Arcan was waiting for a chance to remove this alien, too, but he couldn’t do it when Ledin was entangled with it; he might transport parts of the Kwaidian at the same time, and wasn’t sure they could be replaced if he did. He held back.

The prognosticator was also observing the fight. He thought the efforts of these small bipeds were laughable. On their own, they would present no danger whatsoever. It was true that they wielded their swords to some effect and that they seemed to be particularly loath to give in, but it was their connection to the orthogel entity which made them more of a challenge.

Ledin was diving in and out, using his faster speed and better sight to puncture the alien in front of him time after time. The Dessite, in its turn, was trying to get the Kwaidian in a position where it could secure him in its membranes, when it would simply pull him apart. But the two-legged opponent was agile, and slithery; it was harder than it looked to secure a membrane to him.

Six folded his arms now and regarded the fight with interest. Ledin was breathing heavily, but the Dessite was suffering more too. He thought that his friend would not take long to put an end to this.

Ledin managed another hard jab at the shape in front of him, and this time, the sword penetrated deeply into the side of the Dessite. In fact, it was lodged so far inside the flesh that the Kwaidian had difficulty in pulling it free again. The Dessite wobbled, lost its balance, and then crashed to the floor, where its fronds waved helplessly. Ledin rested the tip of his sword, which was smeared with an almost colourless liquid, on the ground and put his weight on it, panting after all the exertion, but looking inordinately pleased with himself.

“You should have gone for the neck. I told you,” said Six, in the lofty tone of one who had finished his own fight five minutes previously.

“Mine was bigger,” said Ledin.

“It was not!” Six advanced, seemingly prepared to measure the prone Dessite in front of them, but it disappeared at that moment. “—Arcan!”

“This prognosticator informs me that the rest of the council are ready for us, on the Island of the Enjoined,” Arcan informed them. “He has shown me where it is and I am transporting us all there immediately. It will be up to Exemphendiss to convince them, so please don’t interrupt.”

Six gave a sarcastic bow. “
Quite
all right.
Happy
to be of service.”

“Good. Though there was really no need. I would have transported them out of the way. You Kwaidians always seem to want to get into a fight.”

“Excuse me?” Six stared. “I thought that was why we were here?”

“Well, yes, but I could have dealt with them.”

“Next time, tell us!”

“I will.” The walls of the chamber of the tanks of the twelve disappeared and they found themselves in a large, dome-like chamber, much more impressive than the previous one. Arcan looked around. “Ah, here is the council of guardians.”

A row of important-looking dignitaries was shuffling into some sort of line in the centre of the chamber, and the prognosticator, who had been transported with them, swished forwards to greet them. There was much waving of membranes, and not a little leakage of spray as he explained the circumstances to them.

Then he himself swiveled back to confront Exemphendiss. Arcan translated the conversation for Ledin and Six, as he received it from the visitor.

“What is your proposal?”

The visitor’s ancestor wrinkled all the folds around his eyes. “Arcan requires the Dessites to control their population.”

Membranes went rigid with outrage.

“He does, does he? And just how does he think we can do that?”

Exemphendiss explained something at great length.

Arcan shimmered. “He is telling them that his original plan for birth control, which limits the number of buds they can have, would still work. They don’t seem to like it very much.”

Six shifted from one foot to the other. “Is this going to last long?” he demanded.

“Shush, Six. I can’t translate to you if you don’t. “

Six subsided, but looked bored.

Arcan continued. “Exemphendiss is telling them that we also require a guarantee that they cut off all contact with the Ammonites.”

Six could see for himself how that went down. The council members’ membranes stood straight out at right angles to their bodies.

At that moment, a contingent of guards pressed against the doorway, but Arcan expanded until all those inside the chamber were inside the bubble, and those on the other side of the heavy chamber doors were firmly held outside. There was a small shimmer of the orthogel all around them, and then they were floating inside the protective coat, behind Dessia’s moon.

The council members blenched, and clutched at each other. Six found himself rather amused. He could now see how terrified they all were of losing their balance. It was certainly their weak point when out of the water.

Exemphendiss had begun to talk again, and this time the visitor was dancing around his head, clearly visible to the prognosticator and the other members of the council, and obviously enjoying this greatly. None of those present had remained in the mindwall, but all those present were conscious of its heavy pressure as it reacted against the sequester of its twelve most important citizens. Six was very aware that the canths were struggling to control it from such a great distance, and knew that they had little time to spare.

“Exemphendiss is telling them what they can expect in return,” Arcan told them. “They will be left alone to continue their explorations, and I will help them to synthesize enough food on the Islands of Repletion for a stable population of 400 billion.”

“400 billion?” repeated Ledin. “That is a reduction of … what? … getting on for a half?”

“Nearer a third of the population, but their planet cannot sustain the population as it is, however much I help them synthesize more nutrients. They must see that.”

The prognosticator, who seemed to have adapted to the sight of the stars and the moon faster than the others, had moved forwards, and now seemed to be giving some sort of counterproposal.

Arcan flickered. “He says that they would need my guarantee that, if they discovered another planet suitable for their colonizing, I would transport a substantial group across the galaxy to populate it.”

“How big?” asked Six suspiciously.

There was a waving of membranes. “Not more than 50 billion,” said Arcan.

“Arcan! Could you move that many of these things? They weigh a ton, you know.”

“I can move them. I am unsure whether I should agree or not.”

Ledin pursed his lips. “Will they guarantee that they will only colonize planets with no developed fauna? Will they accept the same methods of population control on any new planet?”

“Good point.” Arcan passed it along.

There was quite a long pause, then, “Yes, they agree to that. They will agree to even the eventual population at 300 billion on each planet.”

Six and Ledin looked at each other. “What do you think, Arcan?”

A shadow crossed Arcan’s face. “I do not like this race. They have no concept of the galaxy as a whole; they see it only as a playground for themselves. They have no belief in anything greater than themselves and no sense of awe at the things around them. They have also attempted to utilize me, and they were responsible for what happened to Diva. I do not trust the large one who is their leader, and I find their obsession with colonizing more planets unhealthy.

“However, they do have as much right as any of us to exist, and I cannot, in all conscience, let them kill or allow them to be killed, so I think I should probably accede to those terms. I will make them agree to a static population at that figure, both here and on the colonized planet, and will only transport them if their presence on the planet would not alter any endemic flora or fauna.”

Both Six and Ledin gave slow nods. “But tell them that Exemphendiss must remain as your ambassador here, the curator of the agreement,” suggested Ledin. “And that, if anything happens to him, your agreement will be null and void.”

“What if he dies a natural death?” asked Six. “Visitor, how long do Dessites live?”

The visitor buzzed. “For about 300 of your years, Six. Exemphendiss should have at least another 150.”

Arcan thought for a moment. “Then I will agree. But we will change the condition. The visitor shall be my spokesperson here, and he will designate an intermediary, to be known as the curator. That curator shall enjoy full diplomatic immunity, and shall not be harmed in any way. If either my spokesperson, his curator or his curator’s family is harmed, then this agreement shall be null and void, and I shall become the Dessites’ enemy. And tell them that they wouldn’t want that.”