To Fear The Light Page 5

  He—and every conscious crew member aboard the exploration vessel Paloma Blanca who had ever experienced jump travel—had eaten nothing in the twelve hours it had taken to deorbit and enter the wormhole. Fasting didn’t really help to keep a jumper from getting sick, however; it merely reduced the amount of material. His stomach lurched again and, not for the first time, he wished he could ride the jump out in the tank like the majority of the crew.

  But he was captain and, like all other essential personnel, protocol and practicality demanded he stay awake through everything that made up the dizzying ride: The unrelenting sensation of the twelve-hour spiraling fall into the hole, for which Imperial scientists had been unable to compensate with even the latest artificial-gravity technology. The moment of stretching during the jump itself that seemed to last forever, when the body felt as if it were being pulled in two directions at once. The “snap”: that instant upon reentering normal space when a jump ship would shoot out the other side of the wormhole very near c. The sudden deceleration caused by the jump ship’s energy bleeders as their forward momentum was slowed before the ship could shake itself apart.

  Gareth almost wished for a full stomach, so he could just do it and get it over with, rather than be forced to endure the punishment his body was going through now … .

  “Jump complete.” The soft computer voice startled him, but as the lighting returned to normal levels, he felt himself begin to feel better. “All systems on standby, Captain, awaiting your orders.”

  Gareth took several deep breaths and, gritting his teeth, sat up slowly—and waited. He sat on the edge of the couch and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the warm sensation spreading from the base of his left wrist. He felt calmer, more relaxed within a few seconds. Opening his eyes, he blinked several times, then peeled the tiny adhesive jump patch from his arm. The drugs it had contained now dispensed into his system, he rolled it between his fingertips until it disintegrated.

  His head clear and the stomach ache now all but gone, he was on his feet immediately.

  “System!”

  There was a confirming chirp from the cabin’s integrated computer the moment it recognized Gareth’s voice pattern, and it instantly channeled him directly to the ship’s post-jump program. A holographic display came to life over his work desk, the readings showing that all ship systems were normal.

  “Are all emergency re-jump sequences in place and locked in?” he asked, wanting to reassure himself that the Paloma Blanca could immediately turn about and re-jump at the first sign of danger. The question was unnecessary, however, as the post-jump program would already have brought them about if anything was wrong.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Please give me location stats. Visual.”

  The holographic display altered immediately, and showed that they had come out of the wormhole exactly as planned. Unlike most jumps, the energy bleeders had decreased momentum only as much as was needed to avoid damage to the ship. To maximize travel time, their exit was aimed in such a way as to take advantage of the snap speed to get them to their destination faster than they would have been able on the ship’s power alone. Tsing 479, the closest of the three star systems they were to investigate at this wormhole, was still more than a month’s travel time from the exit point. At their current rate of speed—near maximum for a survey vessel of this class—they should reach the system in just over five weeks.

  Good, he thought. Very good. He took another hour to look over the readouts, studying the computer records brought back by the original probes and comparing them to the readings now being gathered by the larger, more sophisticated scanning array on the exploration vessel. According to what they were receiving, the Tsing system looked even more promising than they had initially thought, based on the probe data. The decision to aim for Tsing had been a good one.

  Time to get everyone up. Gareth ordered the system to begin the wake-up sequence for everyone who rode out the jump in the tanks; then, after taking care of the last bit of post-jump business, he placed a personal call.

  “Good afternoon, Hannah,” he piped cheerily when the image coalesced in front of him. “You’re looking especially lovely today.” The woman who gazed back at him looked ill, almost literally green; but then, Gareth expected no less. Hannah Cee had served with him sixteen years, and the two of them had successfully undertaken dozens of exploratory missions together, but at no time had he ever known her to ride out a jump in cryosleep. As captain he could order her to, of course, and each time he saw her following a jump he thought of doing just that. But she would sooner resign a job she dearly loved than become a corpser, even for the short amount of time a jump took.

  “Go to hell.” The words came out in a single croak, the effort visibly painful, and she clamped her eyes tightly.

  “Hannah, the least you could do is use a jump patch. I hate to see you get so sick each time.”

  She opened her eyes and glared up at him again. The expression on her face was so pitiful that it would almost—if he didn’t know from personal experience just how sick she really was feeling—look funny.

  “Anyway,” he went on, “I’ve looked over the preliminary scans we’ve been getting back, and I’ve got some news that should make you feel at least a little bit better. It appears Tsing is a good deal more promising than we originally thought. There are eleven planets in the system, three more than the probe showed. Two of them are Earthlike, and one of them—number four—even has atmosphere and temperature range that’ll support almost immediate colonization.”

  Hannah’s face brightened, but her head still bobbed woozily. “Water?” she managed. “River systems?”

  “We’re still a little too far out, but our snap speed from the wormhole is pretty high, so we should be close enough to get hydrographic data in less than a week. There appear to be at least two moons, so there should be plenty of tidal action if there is any appreciable amount of water. I’ve already routed everything we’ve gotten so far to your ID, and I’ve coded the files for constant updating.” He stood up and pulled his jacket off the back of the chair, slipping it on as he added, “I’m heading to the mess. Care to join me?”

  She gave him a look of pure hatred before ordering the connection broken at her end.

  5

  THREATS AND REGRETS

  “I have no power anymore,” Eric said, gazing out over the serene valley. “No true power.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Believe it, Mother. Believe it.” He rose from where he’d been sitting at her side and walked a short distance down the limestone outcropping. “I am still a leader, and there are many who follow me, but …” A glint of light reflecting off the surface of the river below them had caught his eye, and he regarded it silently.

  She remembered the many times Javas had looked out over the same valley and attempted to set aside for a short time the weight of his office. During the eight years she had spent on Luna and here at Woodsgate before going into cryosleep, she and Javas often walked the grounds of the Imperial estate. Sometimes it was she who tried to forget that she would lose him during her many years in cryosleep. More often, though, the occasions they spent alone here were devoted to enjoying the time they shared, and not what they were trying to escape.

  Behind them, several meters up the steep slope down which they had climbed to reach the outcropping, one of the horses snorted and pawed the ground impatiently. She turned to check the magnificent animal, a gift from her son, to make certain that everything was all right, but it had already returned to its grazing. Beyond the horses lay the estate itself, she knew, but it was out of sight owing to the steepness of the slope. For all appearances, the two of them could be alone in the wilderness somewhere, imagining themselves far from civilization—not to mention scientific and Imperial matters. She and Javas used to do the same thing, then. The rare quiet moments were welcome; but always, they were forced to return to the realities of their lives.

  T
he Woodsgate grounds were considerably larger than they had been two centuries before. Back then—except for the final weeks before she went to sleep—the Emperor of the Hundred Worlds could afford little time here, and there was little need for more room. But since Eric was in residence much more frequently now, the diameter of the security shielding had been expanded by more than two kilometers, and now included much of the Kentucky backwoods surrounding the estate, not to mention a significant portion of the hillside itself.

  She leaned back on her elbows, nearly reclining on the bare rock, and enjoyed the heat of the Sun as it played across her face. The sunlight was not “pure,” of course—the invisible shielding above them filtered out all harmful UV radiation—but somehow it still felt “real” to her. Since awaking several hours earlier she couldn’t get Eric to agree to accompany her outside soon enough to bask in the sunshine, filtered or not.

  “I can still command,” he went on finally. “On my word a fleet of ships will go wherever I send them, will do whatever I tell them to do. No commander would refuse my order. I can still …”

  He hesitated, turning to face her. In his eyes she could see the emotions fighting within him, threatening to tear him apart. He turned away again and she sat up, waiting silently for him to continue.

  “I still hold an Emperor’s power of life and death.” He spun about to face her once more, his hands balled into fists as he spoke. “Mother, I could command a starship to obliterate a planet if I thought it was the right thing to do. I wouldn’t even have to justify my reasons for doing it. But there are so many more than ‘a Hundred Worlds’ that make up this Empire now that even the name no longer fits, and it is not possible to control them all any longer.”

  “Don’t control them, then,” she said simply. “You told me a few moments ago that there were those who follow you. If you are still a leader, then you must lead your followers, not ‘control’ them.”

  Eric sighed. “A long time has passed, Mother, and the Empire has changed. You’ve seen this new future for only a few hours; there is so very much of which you are still unaware.”

  “I know,” she admitted guiltily, “and I’ve probably been babbling on about something I know absolutely nothing about. I should have gone right to the files you had prepared for me as soon as I woke up, but I’m just not ready for them yet. They’re not going anywhere. In all honesty, I just wanted to put it off for a while; have some time as myself before becoming ‘Dr. Montgarde’ again. I just wanted to spend some time here with you.”

  Eric smiled, and when he did it occurred to Adela that it was the first time he had done so in the last two hours. “I’m glad for it,” he said simply, “as it gives me time to be myself again, too. And it has become increasingly important of late to remember who I am.”

  He looked out over the valley again and sighed heavily. Or could it have been the wind that swept gently through the permeable shielding? He seemed nervous, anxious about something more than his words revealed.

  “Mother, I am no failure. I know that. What has happened to the Empire is a perfectly logical result of the technological avalanche that has overtaken it. The people of the Hundred Worlds have responded the only way they could—they have grown. On the one hand I am frightened by what I see and feel helpless to stop it. On the other, I sometimes wonder if I even have the right to do so. There is much that is good about the direction the Empire has taken: New discoveries are made almost daily, sickness and suffering have all but disappeared on even the most remote of the frontier worlds, self-sufficiency exists for even the newest colony worlds, science has advanced further than ever before.”

  He looked absently to the side for a moment, his head tilted slightly, in a way that reminded her so much of Javas that her heart quickened at the unexpected resemblance. Adela had seen the mannerism before, and realized that Eric was either accessing his integrator, or he was receiving a private page. He concentrated a few seconds more on the unseen speaker, then crossed to her and extended a hand to help her to her feet with no indication as to the contents of the communication.

  “Throughout the Hundred Worlds,” he continued, indicating that they should begin the steep climb back to the horses, “the people seem, for the most part, happy with the turn of events. But there is also a disappointing trend. Just as the Worlds have become open to discovery, they have become closed to new thought.” He chuckled briefly at the puzzled look she shot him, but his serious tone quickly returned. “I know, I know; it seems such a contradiction—”

  “Hello!”

  The voice came from above, but from this vantage point the curve of the slope prevented her from seeing the speaker. From here, even the horses were no longer visible. Eric put a hand to her shoulder, and the two of them paused midway up the slope.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll have to leave it at that for now, Mother, but trust me for just a few hours longer.” He let a warm smile spread across his face, then pointed to the top of the hill. “Right now, though, I believe there’s a friend of yours here to see you.”

  Adela followed Eric’s gaze.

  “Billy!”

  He was heavier now, his shoulders even broader than she’d remembered, but as he easily clambered down the hillside she could see that despite his wider frame there wasn’t a bit of fat on him. His hair had grayed, looking for all the world like a salt-and-pepper lion’s mane, and bounced wildly as he effortlessly trotted down the steep slope. His face, too, had aged, although his dark, round features still radiated the unlimited youthful energy she had come to associate with him. Above all else, the wide, toothy grin told her that this was truly the same friend she’d left behind all those many years ago.

  He lifted her off the ground in a smooth motion when he reached her, swinging her around in a tight hug. Had anyone but Billy tried such a thing on a slope as steep and uneven as this she might have been frightened, but he had the surefootedness of a mountain goat and the thought of the two—or three—of them tumbling down the incline never occurred to her.

  “Ah, lady, it’s so bloody good to see you again!” he barked happily in a voice that still carried with it his thick outback accent, even after all this time. He planted her feet firmly back on the slope, then held her at arm’s length. “Have you had a good nap?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, grinning back at him. “It’s good to see you, too, Billy. Or should I call you ‘Governor Woorunmarra.’”

  “Aw w w, you went and told her, and ruined the surprise.” He regarded Eric with mock disappointment, then extended his hand. “Hello, old friend.”

  “Welcome home, Billy.” It was obvious to Adela that even though the two had not even been on the same planet for years, their friendship had remained strong as ever.

  “I wish I could say I was happy to be home,” he said, his voice now serious. There was genuine sadness in his eyes. “But the word ‘home’ just don’t seem to fit much anymore. There’s too much changed since I left for Darson.”

  Clearly, Billy was happy to see her again, but Adela could tell just how unhappy he was to be back on Earth. Only a few moments earlier, when Eric had been describing the great changes to both Earth and the Empire, it had been easy to disconnect those changes from her own efforts; but right now, looking into the downcast eyes of her best friend, she felt a personal involvement for the first time. What have I done to disappoint you so? she wondered. What has so intimately changed for you here that even a visit could cause you such pain?

  As if he’d read her thoughts, his demeanor changed suddenly to a lighter tone as he said to Eric, “Well, no worries now that she’s back. Maybe with her help the two of you can start to fixin’ some of the things that have gone wrong, ay?”

  Eric sighed again, but this time the air was still and there was no mistaking the sound for the wind.

  The main house was not far from the outcropping, and Eric had ridden back ahead of them, allowing Adela and Billy some time to themselves. Eric had been somewhat apprehensive, at fir
st, knowing that many of the details of all the changes to which he had alluded could easily be taken out of context without a full accounting of everything that had occurred. But it was clear the two men trusted each other. They took their time as they crossed the grassy estate grounds, the wide expanse of bluegrass broken only occasionally by karst outcroppings. They were both on foot, with Adela leading the remaining horse.

  “Don’t be silly,” Billy was saying. “Of course I don’t hold you personally responsible for what my people have allowed themselves to become. How could I?”

  “There is, apparently, a lot I don’t yet know; but it’s abundantly obvious that the project to save the Sun—my project, my idea—is responsible for many of the changes that have taken place.” She shook her head in resignation at the way things were, and regretted again that she had not made the attempt to bring herself up to date the moment she awoke. “I’ll see everything for myself soon enough. I’m leaving in a few days to review a number of project sites, and that should give me an opportunity to observe what’s happened.”

  Billy regarded her silently for several long moments, a look of concern plain on his features. It was obvious that he and Eric had already discussed this, and had come to some agreement that he would say little until her son had told her himself.

  “You may not like what you find,” was all he said. “There’s some things out there that aren’t very pleasant.”