Chapter 128: Suntsitzaile

Chapter 128: Suntsitzaile

These words may survive where I will not, so I continue to write them - but, who am I writing to if there shall be none left to read? I wish you had been better, Michael. I wish I was writing to you. You, of all people, might understand what I mean to say.

Their voices are never quiet. They speak in tongues that they have invented among themselves, and do not share with me. I do not need to know. It has never been my will that mattered, not in any of this. Even now I am merely a conduit, fracturing myself so that more of the dead may gather in waiting. I break, and change, with each betrayal, and this fragment of your soul that I clutch stolen, in a stolen hand, it breaks and changes with me.

I thought it was a curse until you broke it for the final time. It resisted man, or I did, because I thought you were better than mere humanity. Now I know there is nothing else we may build upon. Nothing, and the gates are flung wide, and the legions march into me in nameless ranks, singing songs in a tongue I do not know for a battle I will not live to see.

I will not. I was never truly alive, for I have never been anything but an echo of those around me, but in these final days I feel fear for the small part of me that is Luc. That name and his small fears both die tomorrow, when they meet you for the final time - and the flawed shield, and the flame that shall fail you both.

It is the end that I chose, and I think it will be a good end, more meaningful than anyone born to my life should expect. I will secure hope to stand against the crushing burden of souls. It is selfishness to wish for anything more. But if by chance these words should survive me, and are understood by a better mind than mans - I was Luc Flament, and it would make me happy to be remembered.

- Annals of the Seventeenth Star, 693.

The sea had grown rough since their arrival in Ardalt, a sharp contrast to the glassy waters that they had sailed through from the continent. An ominous energy clung to the waves, infused the wind; Zabalas muttered imprecations in the helm had become dark as he struggled to keep the ship on course to Rouns.

Rouns. Michael let the word sit in his mind, floating atop a languid stream of thought - then, carefully, he allowed it to expand. The sea grew choppy; the sky grew dark. Their ship fought through it even so, blown a hundred different ways - tipping, capsizing, breaking apart against rocks or rogue waves-

Michael shook his head. He was wandering. Spark flared within him, searching for the telltale feel of the present - of others, friends, companions. They jumped out easily from the weave, sticking him fast to a moment where the boat rocked more gently, and the sky was still a troubled blue. He was alone on the foredeck-

No, that was no longer true. Amira was sitting, watching him, her eyes sharpening as his head lifted up.

How long have you been there? Michael asked.

She shrugged. Some time.

Watching me sit? Michael leaned back against a rail. Is it that entertaining?

Amira rose in one fluid motion, walking slowly towards where he sat. On this boat, there are few enough options for entertainment, she said. Watching you sit wouldnt be my normal choice. I have no special insight into what you might be doing. To me, it looks as though youre asleep. She smiled and sat next to him. But you arent. Youre embracing your soul. Walking your path.

Youre only guessing that, Michael said.

I know you dont sleep, so the explanations are limited in number. Amira leaned back against the rail, managing to make the motion look a great deal more comfortable than Michael was finding it. In whatever case, how you occupy yourself is likely the most important matter on this interminable voyage. That I dont understand it is immaterial; I would rather contemplate the profound and unknowable than the knowable and irrelevant.

Michael blinked, then shook his head. Profound and unknowable, he muttered. Its very knowable. Im trying to see what happens if we go to Rouns.

What happens if we go to Rouns? Amira asked.

There was a momentary pause. I dont know that yet. He held up a finger as Amiras smile grew. But not because the answer isnt there. Its far from here - not just in distance, but in- He broke off, frowning. In possibility. In branches, the ways things could change. The sea is rough, and our route varies. Ive seen our ship destroyed-

With me on it, thats unlikely, Amira countered.

The retort took Michael aback, and his mind wandered back into endless permutations. Thats true, he muttered. So I can discard- He trailed off as his view expanded to show the darkening sea once more. The wind blew under stormclouds; their ship struggled on through the rough sea, through swells that should have ripped her in two, yet came out unscathed. Not always, of course, but Michael rejected those possibilities and followed what he thought was the more likely path.

Rouns was never the most beautiful of cities, but under the blackened sky it took on a horrible aspect, crouched and huddling against the wind. Roofs were torn away, stones ripped from one building and flung into the next with frightening speed. There were no ships in the harbor, but Michael could see where they had gone - tossed like toys against a wavebreak, then thrown further still as the storm pulled water up, surmounting the harbors defenses.

It was utter disaster. There was no safe port in Rouns, no places to anchor, no people to visit. There was no point. Gritting his teeth, Michael reached back for the present and found it waiting. He found himself sitting, breathing hard, sweat drenching his shirt. Amira was still sitting beside him, looking at his distress with interest.

It seems as though you had some success? she asked, tracing the tip of one finger through the sweat on his arm.

Michael shifted away from her as unobtrusively as he could. We cant go to Rouns, he said.

There was a shimmer; Sobriquets apparition materialized on the deck. We cant? she demanded. Why not?

Michael stared. Sobriquets projected form hadnt changed. It remained an eye-rending blob of nothingness, but it was no longer just that. With the same ease that he could now see souls, Michael saw - Sera. An unscarred face glowering at him, two hands perched angrily on her hips. For all her evident irritation, she looked younger, brighter; he laughed in wonder, looking at her.

The scowl deepened. Whats funny? she asked. Why cant we go to Rouns?

Reality intruded on the pleasant moment, and Michael shook his head. It wont be there, he said. By the time we arrive, the storm will have destroyed it.

We wont have been gone a week! Sobriquet protested, anger fading to worry. You said it wouldnt be under threat - the storm is growing that quickly?

Appears so, Michael said. Im going to see if I can look ahead to Imes - Leik, failing that.

Leik? Sobriquet repeated incredulously. Fucking Leik, Michael? If weve got no port but Leik, that means that all Daressa will be destroyed!

He held his hands up placatingly. Im checking Imes first, he said. I havent looked there yet. Tell Zabala to shift our course for Imes, though; we dont want to stray too far down the coast.

Sobriquets eyes pierced into him; Michael saw them with exceptional clarity, bright and sparking with anger, with pain, with loss, with a thousand things that shone beyond what eyes should rightly be able to convey-

Fine, she said, and disappeared.

There isnt an advantage you can give him, Amira said, straightening up from where she had been leaning against the wall. He must stand against the heart-eater, and he will succeed or fail. That balance is not ours to tip.

Lekubarri shrugged. Perhaps, but were certainly going to try. Anything less would be - profoundly unsatisfying. He gave her a smile. We can at least soften the target up for Michael.

You dont have anything that can touch him. She glared at Lekubarri, then at Antolin. Where souls contend, men must step back.

Leire always took issue with that statement, Lekubarri said, smiling at Antolin. Her plans for the future of mankind rested solely on mankind itself - and those plans were rather well-laid.

Amira lifted her chin. Posturing.

Lekubarri said nothing, walking around the table to pull a chair out in front of Amira. He stepped back and favored her with another empty smile. Why dont you sit down, my dear, he said, and let me tell you how we planned to kill you.

For a brief moment, Michaels vision swam with splashes of Lekubarris blood - but Amira glanced at Michael, then walked to the proffered chair. As she sat, Lekubarri smiled around the room.

This could be a very long lecture, had we time or interest for one, he said. Since we have neither, I shall say that over the last decade or so Leire helped us to design a few weapons of rather terrible force. Things that match or exceed her destructive power, at least in theory.

Antolin shook his head. Im familiar with the program, he said. Its not ready. You said yourself in the last summary that we were years away from demonstrating-

He trailed off as Lekubarri smiled wider; his eyes narrowed. You do have a prototype. Arraio. Did Leire know?

Leire insisted on accelerating our schedule, Lekubarri said. Helped me route a significant portion of the Batzars money to the project, quietly. He gave the grand marshal a reproachful look. It wasnt that Leire didnt trust you. I convinced her that if we got caught, your hands needed to be clean so that our work wouldnt be handed over to utter imbeciles.

Antolin leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. Because you didnt trust me, he said.

Its nothing personal. Lekubarri slid back into his own chair, leaning back. I knew that if the projections were even half-correct, youd do your best to talk Leire out of it once you saw the first test - and in the end, the projections fell well short of reality.

Lekubarri turned to look at Amira once more. Souls do have limits, he said. They are merely high enough that none may reach them without resorting to a soul themselves, or so it was until recently. We have made a bomb that tears apart matter at its most basic level, unleashing a staggering amount of energy - enough that no soul could stand against it. Merely looking at the explosion is enough to blind men, and no barrier can stand against its force.

Amiras eyes turned to Michael.

It sounds impressive, Michael said. But I doubt it will be enough to harm him. Hes unleashed - and apparently survived - similar energies before.

The batzarkidea waved his hand dismissively. I have no doubt hell survive it. We have reasonably good estimates of how much energy hes pumping out to feed the storm, and it massively exceeds what our prototype can accomplish even under the most optimistic projections. Survival is not the same as coming out unscathed, however. He nodded his head towards Amira. As you are aware. The chance to degrade the Stars capability in an opening salvo is one we cannot pass up.

Antolin leaned forward. Salvo, you say. The last time I saw any reports, they described only a testing rig, implied to be massive and unwieldy. Youve created actual weaponry?

Weve created a massive and unwieldy testing rig, Lekubarri admitted. Delivery will be a problem, but not an insurmountable one - with your assistance.

The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Michael saw them, but at a distance; Lekubarris words had nudged his mind away from the present and back into the inchoate blur of future paths. A mirror showed the sky, then yielded to Lekubarris face, fierce and determined. His hand gripped a shaking throttle, while Zabala stood behind him, bloodied but steady, his soul stretching out-

Michael shook his head, forcefully anchoring himself back to the present. The tension in the stateroom was sharp, bracing. He raised his head to look at Lekubarri; both he and Antolin had paused in their sparring to turn Michaels way.

The airship, Michael said. You mean to use the airship.

Lekubarri laughed, though Michael caught a hint of nervous surprise behind it. My, this is going to require some adjustment on my part, he said. Its been a while since I had to account for an auspex that was actually worth something. He gave another small chuckle, shaking his head, then turned back to Antolin. That was going to be my proposal. Its robust, its our only airframe that can carry the test rig, and it has the benefit of being built with the Stars soul in mind. Any passengers will be shielded from the worst of the storms effects.

Robust, my ass, Sobriquet muttered. You do remember weve been on that thing, right? It was shaking itself apart in calm air. Theres no way it would survive the storm.

Lekubarri raised an eyebrow. No, I imagine it would have a horrible time of it - unassisted. Our practice was always to reinforce the structure with fortimentes while underway, to allow a lighter construction weight. If we took it into the storm, I imagine we would need to obtain the services of the strongest fortimens we could.

He affected a troubled expression - then looked up at Amira in mock surprise. Why, if it isnt the Great Shield of Saf. How fortunate.

Sobriquet rolled her eyes, but nodded grudgingly. Point taken. Last I saw it, the airship is in Rouns. I assume youve moved it by now.

To Estu, Antolin confirmed. I gave the order shortly after you departed for Ardalt.

Lekubarri raised a finger. Point of clarification, he said. I may have modified that order somewhat. I believe youll find that the airship is already in the hills outside of Goitxea, being loaded and prepped at our testing labs. If we depart now, it should be ready by the time we arrive.

There was a moment of silence as Antolin leaned back in his chair, giving Lekubarri an evaluating look. We are going to have a conversation when this is over, he said, his voice dangerously level.

My dear Grand Marshal, Lekubarri sighed. If my disregard for your chain of command remains your most pressing concern by next week, then I will make whatever apology you deem necessary, public or private, without argument. This week, I will simply act, and request your forbearance until then.

Michael felt himself becoming unmoored once more, drifting forward through a sea of potential. A light shone on him, bright and painful; he saw Lucs smiling face from a hundred broken mirror shards.

The rumbling of the cutters engines broke him from his reverie, as the paths condensed back into the simple course of transit. Everything now led to Goitxea, a single shining line from which all else branched away in paths long and winding - or sharp, and terrifyingly short.

He shivered, and pulled away from the dizzying vista. Most of the others had filed out of the stateroom, but Antolin and Sobriquet remained, talking in low voices. Both looked up as he moved.

I hesitate to ask where you were wandering, Antolin said wryly. Lekubarri isnt wrong to say that auspices bring their own set of complications.

You dont have to tell me, Michael muttered. A moment later, he shook his head. Just looking ahead to Goitxea. Past that- He paused, looking at the pier through the porthole, the boat that Lars and Charles had restored sliding to the aft as the cutter pulled away. Past that, well have to wait and see.