House of Reeds

of space and time folding back in upon themselves, the half-open gate disintegrating as quickly as it had begun to form.

Gretchen saw: A jagged stone plunging from the sky, white-hot with atmospheric friction, spearing into a green mountainside with a burst of flame. Spindly-looking trees toppled, blown down, and the stone – hissing and popping – lay inert at the bottom of a crater.

Tri-lobed grass grew with dizzying speed, violet-colored fern-trees lifted themselves from the ashes. Millennia passed. The forest was swept away by fire, then renewed, over and over again. The sun darkened. The violet-leafed saprophytes failed and were replaced by hardier species that could live on the slowly dimming radiance of Bharat.

Gods raged in the heavens, splitting the clouds, fighting among themselves. Cities rose, glittering, on the plain below the mountain and then failed, wiped away by the relentless pressure of time. Still, the sun continued to dim. Slowly the forest darkened as the implacable hand of circumstance winnowed the weaker species away.

Something came pacing in the nighted forest – a shining chitinous creature with long bifurcated legs and shimmering wings bearing a glowing eye – in the radiance of the eye, the mossy stone was ablaze with light. The Jeweled-King plucked it from the heather and carried it away.

The stone sat alone in a blue-green room, undisturbed until slender machines descended from the roof, poking and prodding, examining the striations in the jagged surface. Then the stone split, falling into three equal portions. Behind glassite windows, the jewel-colored insects chimed in horror as a single glistening dark seed was revealed.

The seed split and split again, unfolding into a sharp, jagged arc of darkness which lifted towards the sky…

Anderssen wrenched her attention away from the distant past. Furtive images of burning cities and vast armies of insectile creatures warring upon one another for custody of the dreadful arc slipped away from her awareness.

The vault was aglow with shifting, subtle patterns. Gretchen turned with enormous effort – everything seemed frozen, but now she realized her perception of time was drastically altered. Something was approaching her – a cylindrical bullet, corkscrewing through the heavy air, leaving a twisting trail of disrupted gas behind it – and she dragged her head out of its path.

The Jehanan durbar was caught in mid-lunge, lurching towards the freshly punctured fuel-cell generator.

Technicians were scattering, claws over their heads.

One of them was crouched by the entrance, beside the dead generator, hands placing packs of blasting gel and triggers into a metal carrier bearing the Sandvik logo. Gretchen saw him, perceived a shining glide path in the air between her and the back of his scaly skull, felt the heaviness of the cutting tool in her hand.

Breathe, she commanded herself, struggling to wrench her arm back. Let yourself breathe.

A dry, acerbic voice cut through her thoughts – Clarity is the enemy of action, Green Hummingbird said mockingly – and the illusion of elapsing time snapped violently back into synch with her perception.

The bullet snapped past, spanging away from the glossy metal. Gretchen thumbed the cutting tool to life and pitched the heavy rod in one desperate motion. Malakar was hooting wildly, her pistol blasting again and again. The durbar rolled behind the generator, his own automatic blazing back at the stuttering flashes of the gardener's weapon.

Ducking low, Anderssen spun and scrabbled wildly across the floor. 'Malakar, go go go!'

The old Jehanan flung the empty pistol away and scrambled towards the hole.

The cutting tool clipped the Jehanan technician on the back of his head, hissing plasma-jet searing the side of his face, and bounced away into the auditorium beyond the broken wall, still spewing flame. Crying out in terrible pain, the technician jerked to the side, mashing the trigger pack in his hands down into the container of cutting gel. There was a sharp, hot spark.

Gretchen threw herself into the crevice, cracking her shoulder against the marble, and immediately had her nose smashed by Malakar's wildly lashing tail. 'Ahhh! Move move move!'

The gardener bolted up, reached back to seize hold of Anderssen's jacket collar and staggered off down the tilted passageway.

Sixty kilos of cutting gel ignited in the container. Ravening flame burst upwards, incinerating the wounded technician and engulfing the wooden scaffolding. Marble groaned, tormented by raging heat. The air in the vault rushed inwards, fueling the flames roaring outwards. The kalpataru was wrapped in liquid fire, though the ancient metal remained unmoved and untouched. All three fuel-cell packs blew apart, adding yet more heat to the incandescent explosion. Stone ribs flexed, expanding violently, and then the roof of the dome splintered, raining debris down on the huge room below.

A shockwave of white-hot flame, smoke and dust boomed out through the adjoining corridors, overcoming more Jehanan soldiers rushing towards the fane. The entire structure, buried deep within the body of the House, buckled, crashing down, burying the divine tree in thousands of tons of limestone and marble.

The Captain's Launch

In Orbit Over Jagan,

Approaching the Tepoztecatl

An indicator on Hadeishi's navigation plot spun downwards, showing the launch closing rapidly with the freighter. Asale began her braking maneuver, swinging the launch below the main axis of the ship as the most suitable boat bay faced the planet. The Chu-sa was listening intently to reports being relayed to him from the bridge of the Cornuelle. The burgeoning revolt on the planet looked to require Fleet intervention.

'Can you patch me through to Yacatolli?' Hadeishi reached out and touched the pilot's shoulder while he waited for the communications duty officer on the Cornuelle to respond. Asale looked over questioningly, dark face composed and attentive. He signed for her to hold position.

'Groundside comm is shot to hell, kyo,' a very sleepy Three-Jaguar replied. Both the first and second watch communications officers had taken his advice to get some sack time – and then had been jarred awake by the combat stations alert only an hour later. 'Smith-tzin is trying to reestablish comm to the Legation, to Sobipurй and to the Army cantonment, but the main relay station at the landing field is off the air and some kind of general jamming is flooding the whole area.'

'Where did the request for atmospheric suppression come from?' Hadeishi caught Asale's eye, made a circling motion with his z-suited finger and pointed towards the Cornuelle. The light cruiser had completed its initial maneuvering burn and was now sliding into a lower orbit, one almost directly over Parus. The pilot nodded, twisting her control yoke, and the launch shuddered, dumping the last of its velocity.

'We're picking up fragmentary fire-control requests from elements of the 416th in Takshila in the north and near Fehrupurй in the south. They're being engaged by atmospheric attack craft – old-style supersonic jet airplanes – with a variety of munitions. The jamming storm is interfering with their vehicle-mounted fire-control radar. They want us to establish air superiority from orbit.'

Hadeishi coughed in polite amusement. 'Well, it is a welcome change to be appreciated. What does Hayes think – one moment…'

The quiescent channel to the freighter flickered to life and the face of Captain Chimalpahin appeared. His choleric expression had been replaced by a pale sheen of sweat and worried eyes. A claxon was ringing in the background.

'Chu-sa Hadeishi! The situation on the planet has deteriorated. A number of our surveillance networks have been destroyed and we've lost touch with the Legation and Regimental command. We need your ship to take over master relay from lower orbit, allowing us to reestablish comm.'

'We're already working on that,' Hadeishi said in a dry voice. 'Our first priority is to resynch the combat comm net with the Regiment and any dispersed elements. Then we will work on contacting the Legation and the