"It is almost as if I contain a surfeit of words, and that if I can write them all out of my mind I will find a cold centre point of understanding," he said.
"But these are not your words," the drone replied, dipping its muzzle towards the stack of book disks it had deposited on the floor.
"Yes, but I need to translate them and understand the underlying meanings in order to get to my words."
"Could it be that the cold centre point you seek is that star you once described to Rhodane as lying at the centre of your mind—the source of your fits. Are you not trying to write your way back to your previous condition?"
It had worried him at first how much Tigger knew about him, and he still felt uncomfortable with the idea that throughout his life this Polity drone had watched him and his siblings so closely. Tigger's contention also bothered him, for he still did not really know his own mind, or purpose.
"That is entirely possible, but I have to find out for myself," he replied. "Now, will you be able to connect me into the Sudorian net?"
The tiger shrugged. "Certainly."
Considering how much he had learnt since then, Orduval turned away from the dried-out corpse and began making his way back towards his cave. His history of the colonisation and the years leading up to the War, now published by the Ruberne Institute, had caused a media furore and questions to be asked in Parliament, and now there were those in the media prepared to pay a small fortune to anyone who could locate him. Tigger assured him that his netlink was untraceable with current Sudorian software, and that equally no one could trace him through the private account he had set up—that was until he withdrew any money from it. He did not need to.
Orduval estimated that his take on the War with the Brumallians would be ready for the Institute sometime soon, but he was finding himself distracted by the news of, finally, open contact with the Polity. Tigger had informed him long before that this was going to happen, but the content of and reactions to the communications Parliament published fascinated him. He had been living a hermit existence here and so, disconnected from his world, the reality of Tigger and the Polity did not seem so real until now.
Finally reaching his cave, Orduval saw the door standing open. For a moment he wondered if he had been discovered, and wondered too if he any longer considered that a problem. However, when he stepped into the cave he found Tigger waiting for him beside the desk.
"You must finish this," said the drone.
"I know I must—remember that surfeit of words?"
"Yes, I remember…but it is important that you finish this soon and get it into the public domain."
"Why the urgency?"
"You've been listening to the recordings and reading the transcripts of the communications between Parliament and the AI Geronamid?"
"I have."
"Then you must understand that contact between you people and the Polity will not continue to remain limited to this…conversation?"
"Yes, I see that."
"Publish your book, then…and perhaps you would like to include something from this." Tigger raised a paw holding a recording disk. He continued, "Already, much of what you have written throws an entirely new light on your old enemy, and the people of Sudoria are now utterly ready for that illumination. Opinion is changing fast, and people now indulge in painful speculation about culpability during the War. Some brave souls have even gone to Brumal to try and learn more about your neighbours. Your sister, Rhodane, is one of them."
"Yes, I found a news item about that." Orduval stepped forward and took the disk held out to him. "What is this?"
"You could make it the culmination of your book. This disk contains the schematic of The Outstretched Hand."
"The first ship we sent to Bruml."
"Yes, it also contains information obtained from Brumaclass="underline" recorded footage of the arrival of that ship and subsequent events there."
"I think you can tell me a little more?"
"Look at the recordings, Orduval. To stretch a metaphor to breaking point: The Outstretched Hand contained a knife. It was a warship, and it did not approach Brumal with anything like friendship in mind."
Orduval felt gut-punched. He walked shakily over to the chair and sat down. He had suspected something to have been a little off about that first mission, but this?
"Why…now?" he asked.
"Sudorians need to know their real history, and to lose the long-fostered idea that they fought and won a just war. They need to know because, in no less than a year and no more than five years, the Polity will be coming here."
Orduval inserted the disk, viewed it…and then began to finish off the book that would change so much but, as always with paper and words, never enough.
Harald
From the Admiral's Haven, Harald gazed out across near space. Four hilldiggers and various support ships were visible, as was the arms factory station Carmel, bearing a grim resemblance to a metallic skull hanging there in the void. All but three of Fleet's hilldiggers were assembled—two more of them were due any time now to join the eight already here. The remaining hilldigger, Captain Grange's Dune Skater, had suffered a major engine fault way out in the system—where Harald had earlier assigned it—and, unless the crew could repair that fault, it would take the ship months to limp home. So unfortunate that, Grange being a great friend of Dravenik and so utterly hostile to Harald.
Harald grimaced. Of course he should not become complacent. Three of the captains here, Ildris, Lambrack and Coleon, objected to his assumption of the Admiralship, and others remained undecided. If a total of six captains objected the whole issue would have to go through the laborious Fleet electoral process. Harald had no patience with that possibility. He turned from the window and headed for the stair.
The Bridge now worked with smooth efficiency, despite the many replacements Harald had made. Ship's Security had been totally under his control for some years now, and though its officers had found it necessary to break a few heads and confine some members of the crew, only three deaths had resulted since he took control.
Jeon now sat before her own console at Firing Control, and he stopped beside her.
"Still nothing?" he enquired.
"Nothing—we have a clear run."
Harald nodded, unclenched his teeth, then called up data from Carmel. He saw that six of the captains were now aboard, so it was time for him to get over there before they had a chance to talk to each other face to face for any length of time. He was sure of his power aboard Ironfist, and was now ready to confirm it over Fleet.
From the Bridge, Harald headed down to one of the transport bays, where he picked up his retinue of Ship's Security personnel. Aboard the shuttle, during the short journey over to Carmel, he considered his future actions.
Long before recent events, groundsider opinion had been turning against Fleet, especially with Orbital Combine now offering the possibility of travel throughout the system. Immediately before those events, Parliament was debating about how to conduct an investigation into the missile attack on Inigis's ship, and Combine was proving open and amenable. However, the murder of Admiral Carnasus and the destruction of Blatant by Defence Platform One would inevitably swing public opinion to Fleet's side. It may have been twenty years since the end of the War, but paranoia still held sway on the planet Sudoria. The change in opinion would in turn influence those groundsider representatives who held seats in Parliament, and the majority of the vote. Harald fully expected to win the vote he had ordered Fleet representatives to call for in Parliament—and for control of the defence platforms to be handed over to Fleet. Of course, Orbital Combine would refuse to actually hand over control, which meant Harald could then do what needed to be done.