The drone swept overhead, but already it was turning to follow and starting to descend.
“Who sent that thing?” Geste demanded.
“I don't know, sir. I'm restricted to on-board systems while maintaining full defensive fields, and I have no data at all on it."
“Whoever it is, he must be crazy, shooting at me like that!"
“I would have to agree with that assessment, sir. Unfortunately, as you know, insanity is common among immortals."
“It is?” Bredon squeaked, startled. The idea of an insane Power was new and frightening, somehow more frightening than the thing that had just attacked them.
Geste and the floater ignored him. “How is it tracking us?” Geste asked.
“I can't be sure, sir,” the floater said, “but it appears to be using wide-spectrum scanning."
“Can you hide from it? Take us out of the visible and damp down our emissions?"
“I can try, sir.” The air wavered, this time not merely in a small area in front of the Trickster, but all around the platform. Bredon watched with terrified interest.
Then the light faded, though the sun was still high in the sky; the entire world dimmed as if layers of smoked glass were being dropped around them in quick succession, until they were hanging, seemingly motionless, in near-total darkness. Bredon could see Geste as a faint outline in the gloom, black on black, so he knew that the darkness was not absolute, but the floater and the platform beneath his feet were completely invisible, and blackness surrounded him.
“Take us down to treetop level-lower, if possible,” Geste ordered. “Then take evasive action and head for the High Castle as fast as you can."
“Yes, sir."
To Bredon it seemed as if nothing changed. He and Geste stood silent in the darkness for a long moment, tension sharp in the air between them. Bredon could smell his own sweat-but not, he noticed, Geste's. He supposed that Powers did not do anything as ordinary as perspire.
“I believe we have successfully eluded the drone,” the floater's voice said at last.
“Where are we, relative to the Castle?"
“Approaching rapidly from the northeast, down a narrow canyon; current distance, twenty-five kilometers."
“Good-but take us up and loop around. I want to approach the Castle from the southeast, directly uphill, where we can get a good view."
“Yes, sir,” the floater acknowledged.
“When we get within a direct line-of-sight, if there still isn't any sign of that attack drone, open a window."
“Yes, sir."
The utter darkness made Bredon uneasy, particularly since he knew that the sun was still in the sky; some part of him refused to accept the absence of light. Since the immediate crisis seemed to be past, he ventured a question, hoping to reestablish some sort of contact with reality. “What's going on? What was that thing?"
“I wish I knew!” Geste answered. “Somebody was shooting at us, but I don't know who it was, or why."
“Was it another Power?"
“I suppose it must be; we'd have been notified if anyone came in from off-planet.” He paused, struck by a sudden thought. “At least, we'd have been notified if they didn't take out our ship first,” he said. Addressing the floater, he ordered, “Put a call through to Mother."
Bredon was startled; surely, Geste had no mother! He was a Power, eternal and ageless.
“I'll have to put a narrow-band hole through the field,” the floater cautioned.
“Do it,” Geste said. “If anything shoots at us, close it again, but for now I want to talk to Mother."
“Mother ship acknowledges,” the floater replied, almost immediately.
Mother ship, Bredon asked himself, what did that mean? And where was the hole? He saw no light; near-total darkness still surrounded them.
“Is there anything out there?” Geste asked. “I mean, anything artificial in the system that we didn't put there?"
“No, sir, the mother ship has detected no activity indicative of sentience anywhere in the system other than the planetary surface for over a century."
This baffled Bredon completely; he had no idea what system Geste was referring to, and did not recognize the words “sentience” and “planetary."
“Then it has to be one of us.” Geste's words were neither statement or question, but somewhere between. Bredon accepted it as a statement. He could not imagine how there could be any doubt; what but a Power could openly attack a Power thus? Demons, perhaps?
“Yes, sir,” the floater acknowledged.
“Did Mother see that drone that came after us?"
“Yes, sir."
“Where did it come from?"
“The drone was launched from an unregistered outpost in the immediate vicinity of Fortress Holding."
“Thaddeus? He sent it?"
Bredon recognized the name with an unpleasant start. The invisible housekeeper had mentioned it, but somehow, perhaps because these spirits pronounced the name a bit differently from the way old Atheron did, it had not really registered. Thaddeus the Black was, according to legend, one of the most inhospitable of all the Powers, prone to destructive rages and possessed of a vicious streak of sadism. The stories about him were not the moral fables or amusing tales that were told about the other Powers; they were horror stories, to be whispered around the fire after the children were asleep.
Fortunately, Thaddeus's domain was located entirely in the western deserts, where few mortals had any contact with him.
“Apparently,” the floater agreed. There was an instant's hesitation, and then the machine continued, “Sir, we are approaching the High Castle, and I can detect no trace of the drone that assaulted us previously. However, a great deal of violent activity is taking place."
“What? What kind of activity?"
“Weapons activity, sir."
“Weapons? Damn it, open that window!"
“Yes, sir."
Light poured in from ahead, banishing the darkness; Bredon blinked, half-blinded, then squinted until his eyes could adjust.
Most of their protective bubble was still in place, blacker than the midwake sky, but ahead of them an oval of light had appeared, allowing them to see where the platform was carrying them.
They were rushing down a steep mountain slope, down into a narrow valley. On the far side of the valley another mountain rose to a sharp peak.
Atop the peak stood what could only be the High Castle, built as if growing out of the stone of the mountain itself. Spired and turretted, banners whipping from its rooftops, its towers soared upward as if trying to pierce the sky. Between foundation and towers were three great tiers of massive walls and battlements.
Bredon stared at it in open-mouthed wonder, wonder that mounted steadily as they swept ever nearer and he was forced to repeatedly adjust upward his estimate of the structure's size. He had never seen nor imagined anything like it.
It was only when they were across the valley and starting up the opposite slope that he noticed the glittering specks that flickered on every side of the castle, zipping about it, fluttering back and forth among the towers. Before he had consciously recognized them as being similar to the “drone” that had attacked Geste's platform, something flashed a vivid red from one of the specks, splashing against the stone wall, leaving a black mark-it appeared tiny from his present location, but Bredon realized it was easily three meters across.
Something equally red flashed back from one of the castle towers, and the speck erupted into a golden fireball.
The roar swept over them a second or two later, and glancing to the side, at either end of the “window” in the protective darkness, Bredon could see the trees on either side being whipped violently backward by the accompanying shockwave. The air around him, atop the platform, did not so much as ripple; in fact, despite their great speed, the air felt stagnant and dead, and did not smell very pleasant.
“What the hell does Thaddeus think he's doing?” Geste muttered. “These are all his, aren't they?"
The floater took almost a second to reply, “Yes, sir, the mother ship confirms that all attacking equipment originated within a two-kilometer radius of Fortress Holding. Fortress Holding has refused to reply to inquiries."