Denner_s Wreck Read online

  Bredon glanced up at the western sky as they flew, and realized with a shock that the sun was still high overhead. Geste had found him early that same light; they had crossed the prairie and the mountains in less than half a light!

  As he lowered his gaze to the ground again something glittered in the distance. He stared, but could not make out any details.

  The Trickster appeared to be casually watching the scenery flicker past beneath their feet, not particularly involved with anything, and Bredon found the courage to ask, “What's that?"

  Geste looked up and followed Bredon's pointing finger. He squinted, then said, “Give me some magnification."

  The air in front of him wavered, like the air above a blacksmith's forge, for an instant. From Bredon's point of view, when the waver vanished it left a discontinuity, as if a little bit of reality had been tucked away out of sight.

  It hurt his eyes to look at it; he turned away, looking back at the glitter.

  Whatever it was, it was approaching them quickly. He still could not tell what it was, but he could see a shining silver shape growing steadily larger.

  “What in hell…” Geste began.

  “Warning,” a voice said from somewhere just above Bredon's left ear. He spun around, almost losing his balance, and found a gleaming something hanging in mid-air, centimeters away.

  “Warning,” it repeated. “Approaching drone is equipped for heavy assault, and does not respond to attempts at communication."

  “We've got the fields up full, don't we?” Geste demanded, glancing up at his floater.

  “The standard ones, yes, sir, of course we do. However, the approaching drone is of unknown origin and capabilities."

  “It is?"

  “Yes, sir."

  “What the hell is it doing here?"

  “I don't know, sir."

  “Can it really hurt us?"

  “I don't know, sir."

  “Damn!"

  Then the glittering thing was on top of them, and for a moment Bredon's world vanished in a blazing fury of light and noise. The platform beneath his feet trembled slightly as impossibly bright colors blinded him and a deafening roar shook his bones.

  “Whoa,” Geste said as the light and sound died away. “That's serious, isn't it?"

  Bredon blinked, clearing spots from his eyes, and turned to see the glittering thing-it was shaped something like a fish, he noticed-to the east, its path curving back around to make another pass at the platform.

  “Have we got any weapons with us, any way to shoot back?” Geste asked.

  “No, sir,” the floater replied. “I wasn't aware that any might be called for."

  “Neither was I,” the Trickster said ruefully, watching the drone complete its turn and head back toward him. “Drop us down out of its line of attack, would you?"

  “Yes, sir,” the floater said. Immediately, the mountains rose up around them, though Bredon could not feel any sensation of sinking or falling. They were still speeding forward, as well, so that the sunlit trees and rocks were now flashing past on all sides, rather than merely below them.

  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. T
he 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."

  Another exchange of crimson fire took place; this time the drone escaped, unscathed.

  “Maybe we shouldn't get too close,” Geste said.

  The platform immediately slowed to a crawl. As always, Bredon felt no deceleration; the outside world simply stopped rushing by as quickly.

  The stillness of the air in the bubble made the distant battle seem unreal, as if it were no more than an illusion, like the ones Bredon had seen created by traveling conjurors. It was infinitely more elaborate and detailed, of course, but Geste was a Power, not a mere conjuror. Bredon began to wonder whether what he saw was real, or whether Geste was playing some elaborate prank.

  Another burst of red fire blossomed, followed by another, and then a full-blown barrage from a dozen or more of the attacking machines. The weapons in the castle towers replied.

  “Better stop here,” Geste suggested as they drew near the paths of the outermost drones.

  The platform halted, hovering a meter or so above the bare rock of the slope. The blackness of the heavy protective fields remained to either side, behind, and below. Above and before them lines and flashes of red and yellow fire spattered fitfully across the castle towers.

  “Put a call through to Brenner,” Geste ordered.

  The floater did not reply immediately, and the Trickster glanced up at it, startled.

  “I'm sorry, sir,” it said at last, “I can't get through. All communications with the High Castle are being jammed."

  “Damn!"

  “What's going on?” Bredon asked.

  “I don't know,” Geste answered. “I don't know, but I don't like it.” He stared up at the battle for a long moment.

  “Is Lady Sunlight in there?"

  “I don't know, but I suspect that she is."

  “Is she in danger?"

  “I don't know that, either,” Geste replied. “But I'm afraid she might be."

  Bredon looked up at the flashing of incomprehensible weapons. “Is there anything we can do to help?"

  Geste did not reply for a long moment. “I don't know,” he said at last, “but I don't think we're going to get in there, are we?"

  “No, sir,” the floater replied. “I cannot take you much closer than this while the castle is under fire, and I certainly can't deliver you to any of the registered entrances."

  “If I know Brenner, that castle is even stronger than it looks,” Geste said, reflecting. “Unless Thaddeus has one hell of an arsenal built up, he's not going to get through the defenses any time soon."

  Neither Bredon nor the floater said anything. Bredon knew nothing about either Brenner or Thaddeus save various unpleasant legends, and the floater had no comment to make.

  “Maybe Thaddeus has a good reason for this,” Geste said at length. “Call Fortress Holding again-tell them that I want to talk to Thaddeus."

  A moment later, the floater said, “I'm sorry, sir, but the intelligences at Fortress Holding do not acknowledge. I am certain that several of them are receiving my transmission, but none have responded."

  “I think we better call around, see if anyone knows what's going on,” Geste said thoughtfully. “Thaddeus may have a legitimate gripe against Brenner-though I can't imagine any that would justify this-but he has no business endangering Sheila and Sunlight."

  “That assumes that Lady Sheila and Lady Sunlight are, in fact, in the High Castle,” the floater pointed out.

  “Well, that's another reason to call around,” Geste said. “To see if they're anywhere else."

  The floater acknowledged the point with a bluish flicker, but then said, “Sir, I believe that the mother ship constantly monitors all members of your expedition, through their internal systems, in order to provide information in the event of an emergency. Would you say this constitutes an emergency? If so, I can inquire as to the exact whereabouts and state of health of Lady Sheila and Lady Sunlight."

  Geste nodded. “Do it,” he said.

  “Yes, sir. The signals from Lady Sheila and Lady Sunlight have been lost due to interference, but at last contact both were in their usual excellent health and had just entered the High Castle in the company of Rawl the Adjuster and Brenner of the Mountains."

  Bredon marvelled; how could the mysterious invisible talking thing possibly have learned that so quickly? He had heard nothing, seen nothing; the thing-spirit, familiar, whatever it was-had simply pulled its answer out of nowhere.

  He would have guessed that the spirit was just making up its answers, had not Geste put so much faith in them.

  If it was right, then Lady Sunlight was in danger, and he felt a coldness in his veins at the thought.

 
; “So they are in there,” Geste said.

  “Yes, sir."

  “Thaddeus is endangering them. This is serious.” He paused to think. “Khalid lives closest to Thaddeus; put me through to him,” he ordered after a moment's consideration.

  The floater paused before replying, “The intelligences at the Tents of Gold report that Khalid departed seventy hours ago, in response to a shielded call, bound for Fortress Holding. He has not returned and his present whereabouts are unknown."

  Bredon saw, in the light from the “window,” that the Trickster was shaken by this news; no trace of his customary smile remained.

  “What does Mother say?"

  “No signal is being received from Khalid. At last contact he was entering Fortress Holding, which is heavily shielded against all signals, including the mother ship's telemetry."

  “Try Madame O,” Geste said.

  “The intelligences at the House of Delights have been told not to converse with me,” the floater said, “but they will acknowledge that Madame O is not at home. The mother ship reports loss of contact upon entrance to Fortress Holding, sixty-one hours ago."

  “Damn! That's everyone west of the mountains!” Geste exclaimed. “What's Thaddeus doing?"

  “I don't know, sir. I would point out that the Ice House lies west of the mountains."

  Geste waved that away. “I suppose it does, but it's so far north it doesn't matter. Ah… get me Lord Grey."

  Bredon marvelled at how ready Geste was to call upon so many of the Powers-but then, why shouldn't he? He was a Power himself!

  Bredon shivered slightly. He had very little idea of what was happening, but he knew that he had somehow gotten himself involved, at least peripherally, in affairs far beyond his understanding. He had simply asked to talk to Lady Sunlight, and now he was tangled up in some sort of widespread dispute involving at least half a dozen of the Powers! Worst of all, Lady Sunlight herself was in some sort of danger. The image of her standing in the meadow as he had seen her, her multicolored dress drifting in a wind that he had not felt, filled his thoughts. He shivered again at the thought of any harm befalling anything so beautiful.

  Geste was thinking aloud. “Khalid, O, Brenner, Sheila, Rawl…"