Until four hours ago, our organization comprised twenty civilizations at the Top. What is left of us doesn’t know what to say or what to do. Things are so slow and murky and dull now; we were not meant to live this low. We intend to disband after this mailing.
For those who can continue, we want to tell what happened. The new attack was an abrupt thing. Our last recollections from Above are of the Blight suddenly reaching in all directions, sacrificing all its immediate security to acquire as much processing power as possible. We don’t know if we had simply underestimated its power, or if the Blight itself is somehow now desperate—and taking desperate risks.
Up to 3000 seconds ago we were under heavy assault along our organization’s internal networks. That has ceased. Temporarily? Or is this the limit of the attack? We don’t know, but if you hear from us again, you will know that the Blight has us.
Farewell.
Crypto: 0
As received by: OOB shipboard ad hoc
Language path: Optima-»Acquileron-»Triskweline, SjK units
From: Society for Rational Investigation [Probably a single system in the Middle Beyond, 7500 light-years antispinward of Sjandra Kei]
Subject: The Big Picture
Key phrases: The Blight, Nature’s Beauty, Unprecedented Opportunities
Summary: Life goes on
Distribution:
Threat of the Blight, Society for Rational Network Management, War Trackers Interest Group Date: 72.80 days since the Fall of Sjandra Kei
Text of message:
It’s always amusing to see people who think themselves the center of the universe. Take the recent spread of the Blight [references follow for readers not on those threads and newsgroups]. The Blight is an unprecedented change in a limited portion of the Top of the Beyond—far away from most of my readers. I’m sure it’s the ultimate catastrophe for many, and I certainly feel sympathy for such, but a little humor too, that these people somehow think their disaster is the end of everything. Life goes on, folks.
At the same time, it’s clear that many readers are not paying proper attention to these events—certainly not seeing what is truly significant about them. In the last year, we have witnessed the apparent murders of several Powers and the establishment of a new ecosystem in a portion of the High Beyond. Though far away, these events are without precedent.
Often before, I have called this the Net of a Million Lies. Well, people, we now have an opportunity to view things while the truth is still manifest. With luck we may solve some fundamental mysteries about the Zones and the Powers.
I urge readers to watch events below the Blight from as many angles as possible. In particular, we should take advantage of the remaining relay at Debley Down to coordinate observations on both sides of the Blight- affected region. This will be expensive and tedious, since only Middle and Low Beyond sites are available in the affected region, but it will be well worth it.
General topics to follow:
The nature of the Blight Net communications: The creature is part Power and part High Beyond, and infinitely interesting.
The nature of the recent Great Surge in the Low Beyond beneath the Blight: This is another event without clear precedent. Now is the time to study it.
…
The nature of the Blighter fleet now closing on an off-net site in the Low Beyond: This fleet has been of great interest to War Trackers over the last weeks, but mainly for asinine reasons (who cares about Sjandra Kei and the Aprahant Hegemony; local politics is for locals). The real question should be obvious to all but the brain damaged: Why has the Blight made this great effort so far out its natural depth?
If there are any ships still in the vicinity of the Blight’s fleet, I urge them to keep War Trackers posted. Failing that, local civilizations should be reimbursed for forwarding ultrawave traces.
This is all very expensive, but worth it, the observations of the aeon. And the expense will not continue long. The Blight’s fleet should arrive at the target star momentarily. Will it stop and retrieve? Or will we see how a Power destroys the systems which oppose it? Either way, we are blessed with opportunity.
CHAPTER 41
Ravna walked across the field toward the waiting packs. The thick smoke had been blown away, but its smell was still heavy in the air. The hillside was burned-over desolation. From above, Steel’s castle had looked like the center of a great, black nipple, hectares of natural and pack-made destruction capping the hill.
The soldiers silently made way for her. More than one cast an uneasy glance at the starship grounded behind her. She walked slowly past them toward the ones who waited. Eerie the way they sat, like picnickers but all uneasy about each other’s presence. This must be the equivalent of a close staff conference for them. Ravna walked toward the pack at the center, the one sitting on silken mats. Intricate wooden filigree hung around the necks of the adults, but some of those looked sick, old. And there were two puppies sitting out front of it. They stepped precisely forward as Ravna crossed the last stretch of open ground.
“Er, you’re the Woodcarver?” she asked.
A woman’s voice, incredibly human, came from one of the larger members. “Yes, Ravna. I’m Woodcarver. But it’s Peregrine you want. He’s up in the castle, with the children.
“Oh.”
“We have a wagon. We can take you inwards right away.” One of them pointed at a vehicle being drawn up the hillside. “But you could have landed much closer, could you not?”
Ravna shook her head. “No. Not… anymore.” This was the best landing that she and Greenstalk could make.
The heads cocked at her, all a coordinated gesture. “I thought you were in a terrible hurry. Peregrine says there is a fleet of spacers coming hot on your trail.”
For an instant Ravna didn’t say anything. So Pham had told them of the Blight? But she was glad he had. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the numbness. “Y-yes. We are in a great hurry.” The dataset on her wrist was linked to the OOB. Its tiny display showed the steady approach of the Blight’s fleet.
All the heads twisted, a gesture that Ravna couldn’t interpret. “And you despair. I fear I understand.”
How can you? And if you can, how can you forgive us? But all that Ravna said aloud was, “I’m sorry.”
The Queen mounted her wagon and they rolled across the hillside toward the castle walls. Ravna looked back once. Down slope, the OOB lay like a great, dying moth. Its topside drive spines arched a hundred meters into the air. They glistened a wet, metallic green. Their landing had not been quite a crash. Even now, agrav canceled some of the craft’s weight. But the drive spines on the ground side were crumpled. Beyond the ship, the hillside fell steeply away to the water and the islands. The westering sun cast hazy shadows across the islands and on the castle beyond the straits. A fantasy scene of castles and starships.
The display on her wrist serenely counted down the seconds.
“Steel put gunpowder bombs all around the dome.” Woodcarver swept a couple of noses, pointing upwards. Ravna followed her gesture. The arches were more like a Princess cathedral than military architecture: pink marble challenging the sky. And if it all came down, it would surely wreck the spacecraft parked beneath.
Woodcarver said that Pham was in there now. They rolled indoors, through dark, cool rooms. Ravna glimpsed row after row of coldsleep boxes. How many might still be revivable? Will we ever find out? The shadows were deep. “You’re sure that Steel’s troops are gone?”
Woodcarver hesitated, her heads staring in different directions. So far, pack expressions were impossible for
