"I spent my first dozen years in a place like this," Turtle told Midnight. They had climbed to the pinnacle of a basaltic eminence hanging a hundred meters above a lapis lazuli sea. Below, a band of ivory sand sketched the limits of the sea. The sand had been imported for Valerena.
Midnight was in a bleak mood. Talking about his past usually distracted her. This time it did not.
This was not the Lady Midnight, righteous and frightened, who had come to Tregesser Prime. This was a Midnight without reservations, a Midnight who had been with one man too long. Blessed could do no wrong. Separation became wrenching agony.
Most men found such devotion suffocating. Midnight carried the scars to prove it. But Blessed came close to reciprocating. Flighty and flutter-brained as she was, she was his rock.
"She's going to take him away, Turtle. I know it." The ultimate fester, never to be healed: She could not compete with a true woman anywhere but in bed. So long as that was true, she could not be secure.
"Tina? No. They're just friends doing something that will benefit them both. Blessed will make his heir and gain the backing of a strong faction in the Directorate. Tina gains an alliance with the Chair and becomes the mother of the Chair. Her heart isn't set on Blessed. She wants Cable Shike."
"Being mother to the heir could get her killed."
"The succession will be more orderly with Lupo to supervise."
"Lupo could get killed."
"There is more to him than meets the eye. He would be hard to kill."
Midnight stared out to sea, perhaps tempted to dive into the salt breeze and spread her wings against that turquoise plain. But she dared not. The gravity of Prime was too great. When she must fly, Blessed sent her to 3G, a resort station. When he especially wanted to please her, he joined her.
"I'm doing it again. Bothering you with trivia when you have an empire on your mind."
"Pain is not trivial, Midnight. It has the power to define us. Your fear of losing Blessed is as potent as mine that I have pledged myself to the wrong standard."
The Wizard could not unravel the schemes of Lupo Provik. Maybe because Provik was weaving something whose ends he could not see. His one certain goal was to slide the House out of the closing jaws of Guardships and Outside.
"Is something happening?"
"Soon. Provik has heard of a big battle."
"The Guardships won?"
"They always win. The Outsiders will be desperate. We won't be able to evade much longer."
"What will you do?"
"That depends on Provik."
"Why is it always Lupo, never Blessed or his mother?" She did not understand Others. When she saw more than one Valerena or Blessed, she became bewildered. She could not get it through her head that the Valerena who mattered had died.
"Blessed defers to Provik's experience and talent. Provik is the only one who can pull the House out of this crack."
"Could you capture Starbase? If that's the price?" Her voice trembled.
"Maybe. It would have been easier with VI Adjutrix. I'm not anxious to try."
"I don't want you to. Any of you. There's a boat coming." An arrow of white wake reached toward the island.
"Yes." He had known for some time. His vision was more acute.
"Maybe Blessed got a chance to get away." She unfolded her wings. They were brilliant. She was happy.
"Maybe." But he doubted it.
— 105 —
WarAvocat was reluctant to give the order. It meant he would surrender his role as force commander.
The worst was past, though. The methane breathers had their backs against the wall. Now it was a matter of wearing them down.
VII Gemina was no longer combat effective. After three years even the Deified were tired.
It was time to go home.
He gave the order.
Starbase had changed. Construction channels were storms of sound and fire. A millennium's hoard of materials had been consumed. A few more years and the fleet would begin to feel the drain.
He tried catching up on what had happened inside Canon space. Incursions and provocations everywhere, answered ruthlessly as diminished forces tried to hold the Rims
Canon would double in volume before the plague of violence ran its course.
The fleet had to be expanded. It was able to cope now only by employing its nameless reserves and because Starbase Dengaida could provide some repairs and replacement secondaries.
Starbase agreed. Expansion was necessary. Canon had grown but the fleet had not.
Starbase proposed expansion to one hundred units and construction of five more Starbases. Twelve Guardships to be assigned each Starbase with twenty-eight palatine units at Starbase Tulsa able to reinforce in any direction.
Starbase had other suggestions. Enrollment of five million new volunteers. Continuous recruiting afterward. Renovation of Canon's administration. The enfranchisement of nonhumans, who made up the majority of the population in Canon space. And a long list more.
WarAvocat wondered if Kez Maefele had found some way to tamper with the system.
But Starbase had been ruminating upon Canon's next two thousand years for some time.
WarAvocat was intrigued by one report originating outside usual sources. Its having reached Starbase at all was enough to make one consider reevaluating the certainty that there was no Divine Providence.
It came out of House Tregesser, unloved by Canon officialdom. As witness the wilderness of coda, addenda, and subscripts the report had accumulated, meant to vilify House Tregesser, whose main crime was that it refused to be gobbled by the bureaucratic machine.
House Tregesser claimed to be the object of an Outsider effort to take advantage of its maverick status. The House had defended itself and had captured several Outsider humans.
They had no idea of their origin. Their memory was one memory. Their history was one history. Alliance in worship of the Destroyer. They had been prowling the Web, with the methane breathers, committing holy atrocities, for ages. Their allies had no idea whence they sprang either.
The Godspeakers were so called because they could summon the Presence to grisly rites carried out by their human cohorts. They could communicate over any distance through the medium of the Web.
"Uhm!"
Though the Godspeakers set down colonies wherever they found suitable worlds, they were not empire builders. Nor were they true proselytizers. Those sprang from their human companions.
WarAvocat paced, bewildered. His experience with superstition was limited to an uncertain belief in Tawn, VII Gemina's tutelary. He was repelled and revolted by those creatures. He felt no impulse toward mercy.
He was tired and slow. Maybe he was too old. He considered potential successors. None could cope any better.
"Access, the Deified Aleas Notable, if she's willing." They had become friends during their year as Dictats. He had not stood for reelection. She had been reelected the twice she had stood.
"Hanaver? Are you brooding again?"
"Me?"
"You."
He asked if she had reviewed the data just received.
"I have now."
Disconcerting. "And the commentaries filed in response?"
"Ah. I see what you mean. This struggle will have no end short of extermination of the methane breathers and their creed. It's the most evil thing we've ever encountered."
"Have you reviewed Starbase's recommendations?"
"No subject has ever exercised the Deified as much. But I doubt any have reviewed the Outsider info—and I suspect its implications are the predicates upon which Starbase's recommendations are based. You wanted me to see that? I've passed it on."