Read The Wrath of the Great Guilds Page 30


  “There are no weapons,” the man from Alexdria commented.

  “No,” Coleen said. “No weapons were left with us.”

  “Maybe that’s better,” said the diplomat from the Western Alliance. “Can you imagine what sort of weapons they could have had?”

  “I wish at least one thing still worked,” Alli commented.

  “One thing does,” Mari said. “We think, anyway.” She pointed at the bulk of the Feynman unit. “That is supposed to be a far-talker with enough range to reach Urth.”

  “You’re kidding.” Everyone rushed to crowd around the unit, while taking care not to touch it.

  “That’s one of the reasons we’re here,” Mari said. “Once Lukas figures out how to hook up that extra generator, we’re going to see if that device still works, and we’re going to try to call Urth.”

  “You like doing that, don’t you?” Calu said to her. “Just suddenly dropping a conversational bomb in a room and watching everybody else freak out.”

  “She does,” Alain said.

  “Do you think you have room to talk, Alain? The guy who suddenly told me ‘By the way, you’re the daughter of Jules’?” Mari scoffed.

  “How are the Mages taking this, Alain?” Calu asked.

  “They are mostly content to observe. I have told them that, as far as is known, Urth does not have those capable of Mage talents. This news was welcome to them.”

  “Huh,” Calu said. “You know what? It’s welcome to me, too. This is all pretty intimidating to a Mechanic. We can’t match it. Not for a long time. If our world has something that Urth can’t match, it makes me feel better.”

  The lights suddenly brightened noticeably. “Lukas must have figured out how to hook up the new generator,” S’san commented.

  Master Mechanic Lukas arrived soon afterward to confirm that guess. “The tech manual for this tower showed how to do the hook-up, but I thought we’d have to do some manual adjustments. Instead, as soon as the power was flowing, whatever governs the tower’s power distribution handled it all automatically.” Lukas shook his head. “This is so far ahead of us. I feel like a common looking at a far-talker for the first time.”

  “If we have the power,” Coleen asked eagerly, “should we try the device?”

  Mari looked over the bulk of the Feynman unit. “Who’s going to do it?”

  “You are, Mari,” S’san said. “Go ahead.”

  “Me?” Mari looked around at everyone. “Shouldn’t someone else—"

  “We talked this over while waiting for the power hook-up. We’re here because of you,” S’san said.

  “This wouldn’t be happening without you, your daughterness,” Alli pointed out. “You’re the one who changed the world.”

  Mari shook her head at Alli. “And yet I can’t stop you from using that term.”

  “Everyone agreed,” said the First President of the Bakre Confederation. “It may be the first and the last thing in this world that everyone agrees on, but all believe you have earned the right to do this.”

  “Besides which,” Camber said, deadpan, “we would never agree on any other person to have the honor.”

  There obviously wasn’t any sense in arguing, and Mari knew how badly she did want to do it. She walked through the crowd, faced the transmitter, and looked over at Alain. “I can’t believe how nervous I am.”

  Everyone was waiting. “Can you tell what to do?” Master Mechanic Lukas asked, not in a challenging way, but as one Mechanic to another when faced with a strange device.

  “There’s a button here, under a protective cover,” Mari said. “It has the universal sign for an on/off switch.”

  “I guess we finally know where that universal sign came from,” Lukas said. “Push the blasted thing!”

  “Yes, honored Master Mechanic.” Mari reached out to flip up the protective cover. It protested the movement, but finally gave way. Mari took a deep breath and pushed the button.

  A low humming began coming from the device. Two large panels that looked somewhat like glass suddenly lit up and words began to appear on them, drawing gasps from everyone who saw, others crowding to get a look. Mari began reading some of the words out loud. “System initializing…diagnostics running…there’s a long list here of what I guess are components. It’s like when one of our Calculating and Analysis Devices boots up, loading its thinking ciphers. Permanent memory OK. What does Oh-Kay mean? The same thing is showing up next to everything else.”

  “Maybe that’s some sort of shorthand for it’s working,” Calu suggested.

  “Maybe. What if that’s Zero K? What could that signify? Um…proceed with set-up? It’s asking me. There are two tabs under the question saying yes and no.”

  Calu was close enough to squint and study the image. “I don’t see anything you’re supposed to flip or push to say one or the other.”

  “There have to be some controls,” S’san insisted.

  “Maybe there’s some little arrow on those tabs that points to a control, something that we can’t see,” Mari said, raising one finger to rub at the tab labeled “yes.”

  To her shock, the tab glowed at her touch and new words appeared. “Set-up proceeding. All I did was touch this surface! That’s the control!”

  “How in blazes—?” Lukas began, shaking his head.

  “We’ll learn,” S’san replied.

  Words flew across the screens faster than Mari could read until one of the screens settled down to display a few items. “Universal Time. It’s showing seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, and a year. Nothing like our date and time. Here’s another. Local time. That must be here.”

  Calu nodded. “The time fits, but whatever it’s using for day, month, and year don’t. I wonder if that’s something the great ship was supposed to use but the founders of the Mechanics Guild deliberately changed?”

  “Use Universal or Local Time?” Mari read, looking to the others again for guidance.

  The non-Mechanics looked to the Mechanics, who all shrugged. “Local?” Alli suggested.

  Mari reached out cautiously and touched the Local tab under the question, gasping as the device once again accepted the input. “Verifying location. Establishing links. Verifying access. Ready.”

  She drew one hand back through her hair, staring at the screen. “This one says ready to receive, and this other says transmit. At least we understand what those words mean.”

  Calu scratched his head. “Since this seems to be a sort of far-talker, it might be a good idea to see if anybody is saying anything before we break in.”

  “Yes,” S’san agreed. “That’s good far-talker etiquette as we understand it. Let’s try receive first.”

  Mari touched that tab.

  A voice filled the room, speaking in a strange accent that was still understandable, the tone that of someone doing something routine. “—government of Sinharat province on Mars has proposed new adjustments to planetary weather patterns which are under consideration. That completes Sol update. Colony update begins. For Amaterasu, request you provide more detailed information on local crop ailment so possible genetic modifications can be proposed. Please include as much research and environmental data relevant to the crop as possible. For Brahma, in response to your question, request you continue relaying these transmissions to Demeter in case any survivors of the colony exist who can receive over a damaged Feynman unit but cannot transmit.”

  “Demeter!” Coleen cried. “That is us!”

  A murmur of excited comment nearly drowned out the next words from the speaker. “This is ERIS, Earth Relay and Interstellar Signals center, sending the daily update from Sol system to all colonies. Latest update will be repeated in one hour universal time.”

  “Urth,” one of the librarians breathed, tears coming. “The home of our ancestors still lives.”

  “And they still worry about us,” Coleen added, wiping at her own eyes.

  S’san gestured peremptorily at Mari. “Well? Go ahead! Answer them!


  Chapter Fifteen

  She didn’t feel worthy of the honor, but everyone else was clearly set on it. Mari reached one hand to hold onto Alain’s. “We’re doing this together,” she whispered to him.

  She used her free hand to touch the transmit tab, which hesitated only a moment before a glowing “ready” appeared next to it. There was a far-talker ‘phone attached to the transmitter by an armored cable. Mari took it, seeing the illuminated button labeled push to talk. “They really did try to idiot-proof this when they designed it,” she told the others, trying to quell her nervousness.

  Everyone was waiting. Everyone was watching. Mari pressed the button with her thumb and spoke slowly and clearly. “Urth, this is Lady Master Mechanic Mari of Caer Lyn calling from the world of Dematr. I repeat, this call is from Dematr. I am here with my promised husband, Sir Master of Mages Alain of Ihris, along with many other Mechanics, and Mages, and leading common folk of this world. We have suffered a very difficult period and lost many things. But after a great struggle we have regained our freedom and the ability to speak with you again. We extend our hands in peace to our distant brothers and sisters, who we did not even know existed until a short time ago. Please respond. This is Master Mechanic Mari on Dematr, over.”

  She released the button, looking and listening expectantly.

  Some new words appeared on one screen. “Estimated time to reply,” Mari read, feeling disappointed, “six hours, fourteen minutes.”

  “That must mean whatever form of transmission this uses will take that long for a signal to get to Urth and get back here,” Calu said.

  “You don’t think it uses far-talker tech?” Lukas asked him.

  “There are some sections in the advanced tech manuals that talk about far-talker signals, what they call rah-dio, taking a lot of years to travel from one star to another, so if we’re going to get a reply in six hours, it has to be something else.”

  “Such as what?” S’san said.

  Calu scratched his head as he thought. “One of the manuals referenced SAD Signaling as being a whole lot faster than far-talker waves. Maybe that’s it.”

  “SAD?”

  “The manual said,” Calu replied, looking embarrassed, “SAD stood for Spooky Action at a Distance. I’ve got no idea whether that’s some weird tech joke or if it sounds serious to people from Urth.”

  “So six hours is really fast?” Mari asked.

  “I think so.”

  “It will work, right?” Coleen asked. “You can tell? They could hear us?”

  “They will hear us,” Calu said. “I think.”

  “There’s no real way to tell,” S’san said. “Not until we either get a reply or…never hear back.”

  “It ran all of those tests and diagnostics,” Mari said. “Everything was, uh, OK.”

  “Which might mean that it sort of works in a minimal way! Or has a high failure rate. We don’t know.” S’san looked around at the anxious faces. “If the device is working properly, then in a little over six hours we will hear back. Maybe not from Urth. Maybe that’s how long it will take the nearest place to answer us, whatever that place is.”

  The group around the Feynman unit broke up. Some went to eat or rest, others continued pestering the librarians with questions. Everyone made their way back into the room well before the time was up, but as Mari stood nervously by the transmitter she saw the words change. “It just went from saying fourteen minutes remaining to saying thirty-three minutes remaining!”

  “It did say estimated,” Calu pointed out.

  “It’s like dealing with a bureaucracy,” Camber commented.

  “An automated bureaucracy,” Lukas said. “Can you imagine? Maybe some things we shouldn’t be too eager to get built again.”

  Everybody, Mari noticed, was avoiding saying that the device might not have worked, that her speech might have gone nowhere, heard by no one.

  But before anyone else could say anything, the numbers Mari was looking at abruptly went to zero and another voice filled the air. It was someone different from the first speaker. The unusual accent was nearly the same, but the tone of the voice was now filled with joy and excitement. “Demeter, Demeter, we copy your transmission! This is Earth Relay and Interstellar Signals acknowledging the message from Demeter. You can’t imagine how much excitement there was here when your call came through. We have heard nothing from your world for centuries. Not since two standard months after the arrival of the colony ship. We feared the colony might have been totally wiped out. Your brothers and sisters are very happy to hear from you. We regret that your colony has experienced major difficulties and would appreciate a detailed description of those problems as soon as possible.

  “Lady Master Mechanic Mari, if you are still there please provide a description of what your title means. We are uncertain of the title you gave for your husband and its meaning as well. We would like to know as much as possible about your society and the history of Demeter since we lost contact.”

  “Please respond. Your Feynman unit is using a transmit setting dedicated to Demeter, so speak as long as you want and tell us as much as possible. You won’t be interfering with anyone else, and I promise you that nearly everyone on three planets and several moons in the solar system plus those on the colonies orbiting other suns will want to know everything you can tell us. This is ERIS, Earth Relay and Interstellar Signals center, responding to the transmission from Demeter from Lady Master Mechanic Mari.”

  Mari realized that she was staring at the Feynman unit, her mouth hanging open, overwhelmed by the moment. As she stood there, unable to think, Alli suddenly grabbed her in a hug.

  “Good job, Mechanic!” Alli yelled.

  Then it seemed everyone wanted to do the same, the room erupting into bedlam as it sank in that it was all real, that Urth was real and that they were once more part of a vast community of people on worlds that none of them had known existed. Even the Mages were partially caught up in the euphoria. Calu replaced Alli hugging Mari, then Professor S’san was there, Professor S’san was crying and embracing Mari, and even stoic Master Mechanic Lucas slapped her back with a broad grin that seemed likely to crack his stern, old face. Head Librarian Coleen forced her way through to Mari for another hug, then Alain was there, Alain was smiling, and Mari held him so tightly no one else could break in, realizing that she was laughing and couldn’t stop herself.

  Because in this room, where history had long been kept safe, new history had just been made. This victory marked the final end of the Mechanics Guild and its control of the world. No matter what happened after this, Dematr would never again be isolated from the rest of humanity.

  * * * *

  The visitors left in groups over the next week, trudging back along the hidden road, most of them talking enthusiastically about what they had seen and learned from the librarians. Altis would soon have a steady stream of visitors heading inland where few had ever ventured.

  Alain and Mari led their mounts a bit ahead of the rest of their group, the two walking side by side and the mountain ponies ambling behind them. The healers back in Dorcastle, still baffled by the healing she had undergone and the resulting shock to Mari’s body, had alternated between stressing the need for Mari to get exercise and the need for her to get enough rest and not overexert. As far as Alain could tell, Mari had stopped listening to them on that topic and was instead stubbornly doing whatever felt right to her.

  Physically she seemed to be doing a lot better, which made Alain a lot happier. Emotionally, though… He had noticed a moodiness ever since they had left the valley. She was finally perking up a bit. “It’s so hard to leave all that,” she finally explained to Alain. “I mean, it was amazing to see that stuff, but it also made it clear how much we had lost and how long it would take to recover that level of technology. Still, we look at it and think about how we’re going to get back there. And we’re going to, Alain. The damage done by the Mechanics Guild will take a long time to repair
, but we’ll learn what we have to learn.” She turned an inquisitive glance his way. “What do you think is the most important thing you learned in the last couple of years?”

  “That no one can ever win an argument with the woman they love,” Alain said. “Every form of apparent victory is just another type of defeat.”

  “You have learned wisdom,” Mari said, grinning. “I learned how big a difference one person can make, both in the lives of those closest to them, and to many others. I’m talking about you, by the way.”

  Alain nodded. Ahead the road dipped beneath a concealing overhang. The shade would be welcome, with the winds nearly calm and the mountains around them hot from the midday sun. “Never doubt that your words also apply to you. I do not feel wise. So many Mages wish to speak with me about the new wisdom. I tell them what I know, but that is too little.”

  “At least they’re not coming to you to work out compromises to avoid another war.” Mari tilted her head to one side as she studied him. “The threat of the Storm never entirely goes away, does it? I went into this thinking, all right, we’ll stop the Storm and things will be fine. But even though we stopped that storm, others will always threaten. Am I right?”

  Reluctantly, Alain nodded. “I have been speaking with the other Mages, who agree with what the elder and I have seen. Our foresight was dominated by the storm of chaos that you stopped—"

  “That we stopped.”

  “Yes. But we continue to see occasional warnings. Not as frequent, not as urgent, but with the sense of something to be ever on guard against.”

  “At least I have job security,” Mari commented. “Somewhere along the line we have to figure out a way for the world to do things without having me as a governor for the machinery of human interactions, but that’s likely to be a long-term project. In the near term, you and I need to make sure we get some time for ourselves. I think we’ve earned that.” Mari gave him a smile. “Are you still all right with settling near Pacta, like we talked about during the battle? It will give us a better chance to maybe figure out what's strange about Pacta, but I'd like to live there anyway.”