'The remaining unknowns are staying with the fleet, reported Sorex, the Onega's captain.
'Excellent, Kazimir replied. 'Could you get in close for a scan of the wreckage, please.
'So the fleet can be eliminated? Creewan asked urgently.
'Numerically it would be difficult, Kazimir said as the Onega dispatched a swarm of sensor drones towards the largest chunk of wreckage from the second spherical ship. 'As well as the unknowns, there are also nine hundred Starslayers to consider. Our combined River and Capital-class ships would probably defeat them, but the cost would be severe. We'd be left with very few vessels.
'Then we know what needs to be done, Ilanthe said. 'I believe there is one class of ship more powerful than the Capital-class.
'Yes, Kazimir said with extreme reluctance.
'Admiral, Sorex called. 'High resolution sensors are combining. Oh great Ozzie—
Kazimir and the rest of the ExoProtectorate Council stared silently at the sensor results which appeared above the big table. The little drones were flitting through the broken compartments and passageways of the spherical warship, contributing their separate scans to a cohesive image. The battered chunk of hardware was texture perfect, right down to individual structural components. Metal around the outside was still hot enough to glow. It was also terribly radioactive. Odd pieces of charred biological matter drifted around the compartments, torn from alien bodies as explosions and energy pulses ripped through the ship. Right in the middle, the bodies were larger. Intact. The drones concentrated on one.
Kazimir started at the terribly familiar pear-shaped torso, with four gristly ridges running it length. Four stubby legs protruded from the curving base, while arms branched out of the body just above the legs, each one ending in an efficient quad-pincer arrangement. At the top of the body four small mouth trunks were open, drifting in zero-gee like seaweed in a slow current. Between them were the sensory stalks, rigid in death, each one fused to a neat electronic module.
'That can't be, Crispin exclaimed. 'It can't! We contained them all twelve hundred years ago. All of them.
'It is, Ilanthe said emotionlessly.
'Yes, Kazimir said, fighting both shock and a tinge of fear. 'An immotile. The Ocisen Empire has acquired Primes as its allies.
The noise of ice crystals smashing themselves to sparkling dust on the ground-crawler's metal shell was making conversation difficult inside. Even under the constant barrage by the wild elements, the vehicle hadn't moved. It was wedged fast in the fissure, with its narrow front windows covered by dirty granules which had filled the gaps around it. Minor quakes continued to shake it about, but they only seemed to tighten the fissure's grip. Several times, the thick metal bodywork had groaned in protest.
Corrie-Lyn sat awkwardly on top of the two forward seats, a blanket wrapped round her shoulders. Inigo was using an auxiliary console to squat beside her.
'Why did you never dream again? Corrie-Lyn asked.
'The Waterwalker's era was over, Inigo said. 'You know that. There were no more dreams to be had.
'But if you had one following his ascent to the nebulas, there must have been others. You said it came from a descendant. He had many children.
'I… Inigo shook his head. His eyes glinted in the console's moire radiance as he gazed at his old lover. 'We witnessed everything we needed to. I sustained hope in billions of people for centuries. That's enough.
Corrie-Lyn studied the face looming above her. So familiar, yet the darkened skin and bad brown hair made him seem colder somehow. This wasn't quite the old Inigo she'd known and loved. After all, it's been seventy years. Dreams don't always end like the Waterwalker's did. And I dreamed so hard about this moment. 'Please, she began.
The atmosphere howled at a volume which was painful on her ears. She gripped the chair, fearful that this was the final quake, the one that would send them falling into the planet's imploding core.
'It's all right, Inigo's soft voice reassured her. 'Just the storm.
She grinned uncomfortably. That voice hadn't changed, and the reassurance she gained from it was immeasurable. So often she had heard his strident messages to the devout gathered in Golden Park, and equally the tenderness when they were alone. Every time it contained total conviction. If he said it was just the storm, then it was so.
'Can you dream again? she asked.
The cabin lights flickered. Red warnings appeared on the console as the tortured air outside wailed stridently. Inigo's fingers stroked her cheek. 'What is it you want? he asked, his mind lustrous with compassion.
'I want to go to Querencia one last time, she told him. 'I want to walk through Lillylight's arcades, I want to take a gondola ride down the Great Major Canal, I want to stand on Kristabel's hortus as dawn comes up over the city. She gripped his hand. 'Just us. Is that such a terrible thing to ask?
'No, he said. 'It's a beautiful thing to desire.
'Take us there. Until the end.
The tears were full-formed now, rolling down his cheeks. 'I can't, my love. I'm so sorry.
'No, she cried. 'Inigo, please.
'We can dream any of the Waterwalker's dreams together. Any. Just pick one.
'No. I know them all. Even his last one. I want to know what happened after. If you won't take me there as it is now, then show me that final dream you had.
'Corrie-Lyn, do you still trust me?
'Of course.
'Then don't ask this. Let us visit Edeard when he drops Master Cherix into Birmingham Pool, or as he confronts Bise and the regiment in Sampalok. They are such wonderful times. He shows people their future can be different to the one they thought they were condemned to.
'Why? she pleaded. 'Tell me why.
The storm noise ended. It cut off so fast that Corrie-Lyn thought she had suddenly gone deaf. This is it. No regrets. Well, not many.
'Oh shit, Inigo was looking up towards the rear of the cabin.
'It's all right, she said valiantly. 'We're together.
'Uh huh. He shook his head, straightening up.
Corrie-Lyn wriggled into a precarious near-sitting position. 'What?
'The Lady must hate us; she's guided us to a genuine fate worse than death.
'Inigo, what are you—
A blinding green flash filled the cabin. Corrie-Lyn squeezed her eyes shut in reflex. Her optic nerves were shining a blazing white and scarlet afterimage into her brain. She yelled in panic as some potent force slammed her sideways, sending her tumbling painfully down the side of the chairs to jam herself into the narrow space below. Her good arm waved round frantically. 'Inigo! Then she was abruptly aware of a fearsomely cold air flowing across her. She drew a shocked breath, feeling it freeze-burning down her mouth and throat. Her vision was slowly recovering. She blinked to see Inigo braced on the console above her, clad in a shimmering force field. He was still looking up. Almost dreading what she'd see, Corrie-Lyn followed his gaze.
The rear two-thirds of the ground-crawler cabin had completely vanished. Where it had been, grey ice particles were drifting slowly downwards through a funereal sky. Behind them, slivers of purple static writhed across the broad force field dome that now encased them in a bubble of serenity. A human figure was silhouetted against the curtailed storm, an integral force field providing additional protection from the wicked elements. Corrie-Lyn blinked again, trying to gain some focus through the sharp scintillations of her bruised retinas. Secondary thought routines in her macrocellular clusters managed to resolve the man's features.
'Oh Lady, fuck it, she groaned, and slumped back down.
'Well, well, Aaron said cheerfully. 'Fancy meeting you two here.
Inigo's Eleventh Dream