“No!” Van yelled, but no words came from his mouth, and none of the troopers turned. Van tried to move, but he was rooted in place.
Then, as suddenly as they appeared, the armed troopers turned and marched out of the garden. Lightning flashed, and thunder rolled, and Van stood on the plaza before the Parliament House in New Oisin, with red rain falling all around him.
As he watched, a tree began to grow from the center of the building, an oaklike tree that began to slant to the right as it grew. Then a branch thrust itself down, as if to try to keep the tree from overbalancing itself, and the oak grew more massive and more gnarled and twisted. With each moment, the oak leaned more and more.
Van watched, transfixed, as the giant tree began to topple. The enormous roots pulled out of the Parliament building, and building stones were flung across the plaza, slowly bouncing. A spark from somewhere ignited the fallen and splintered tree, and within moments, the plaza was an inferno.
Van threw up his hands…
He sat up in the wide bunk of the commander’s stateroom aboard the Joyau. Sweat streamed down his face. Slowly, he swung his feet to the side and stood, walking deliberately to the fresher, where he washed his face, then blotted himself dry.
He walked slowly around the stateroom, barefoot, until he cooled down, then slipped back into the bunk, on the side where the sheets were cool and dry, and not damp.
In time, he woke, and washed, and dressed, and made his way to the cockpit.
There he settled into the command couch and studied the monitors. He could feel himself frowning, knowing something was off, not quite right.
Van glanced around the cockpit, again, and then again.
Countdown beginning at sixty…fifty-nine, fifty-eight… The numbers announced themselves slowly, death-marching downward. Van tried to focus his thoughts, thoughts that felt so sluggish. Something…there was something wrong about those numbers, something he should have recognized. He tried to remember what…and what he should be doing…
…thirty-six, thirty-five, thirty-four, thirty-three, thirty-two…
The transmission from the Elsin broke off, and the Elsin had vanished. Energy flared across the boards, searing Van with its heat. Somewhere, in the distance, eight gleaming white stone towers began to melt before exploding into vapor…and the screams of millions echoed through Van’s mind.
Once more, Van bolted up in the bunk.
This time, he did not even think of trying to get more sleep as he rose to take a shower and don a clean shipsuit.
After leaving Damcus behind, after almost two weeks there, Van could have expected nightmares with shattered buildings, with gaunt figures like Jahil, or empty-eyed children, and the shapes of burned-out buildings, or the smell of ashes and death, but nightmares about his fathers—and trees?
The nova dream was familiar, at least, if unwelcome, but the dream about his fathers and the giant tree bothered him more—far more—even if he could not say why.
Chapter 86
Van shifted his weight in the command couch as the Joyau approached Angslan, a formerly independent system that had been “annexed” by the Revenants nineteen years earlier, although they had not closed down the IIS office in Ingelar until four years later, according to IIS records. That was still fifteen years ago, Van thought to himself, wondering what he would find.
Angslan control, Coalition ship Joyau, for approach and locking.
Joyau, request registration.
Control, registration information dispatched. How tight was the Coalition control of Angslan?
Wait one, Joyau. Continue approach.
Continuing approach this time. Van checked the monitors and EDI indicators. There was one other commercial ship in-system—and the drive signature was Hyndji. But there were three Coalition frigates and four corvettes—most of them near Angslan on what looked to be a former out-system base.
Coalition ship Joyau, your registration is approved. Clear to charlie one this time. Be aware that no incoming cargoes are being allowed planetside, except equipment for Argenti and Coalition forces. No travel planetside is permitted, except for Coalition and Argenti forces and support groups.
Control, Joyau, no cargo to declare. Bearing message traffic for rerouting. Interrogative outbound cargo.
Message center is operative for other stellar destinations. Planet-bound traffic will be delayed and screened. Outbound cargo is embargoed at this time.
Stet.
Van eased the Joyau through the docking and locking process almost silently. He’d hoped to get planetside, but it didn’t look that likely. So the stop at orbit control was going to be useful only for messaging, reenergizing, and for whatever information he could gather.
Once the ship was locked in place and on station power, he took a deep breath.
“Not good, ser?” asked Alya.
“They’ve got the entire planet quarantined. They’re not calling it that, but that’s what it amounts to. Go ahead and get the mass tanks topped off. I’m going to see what I can find out.”
He unstrapped and walked back to his stateroom, where he called up the files on Angslan. There wasn’t anything obvious, except that the annexation by the Revs had been peaceful.
After a moment of reflection, he pulsed through a message to orbit control administration—and got a simmie, dressed in a white uniform.
“This is orbit control administration. How can we help you?”
“This is Van Albert, commander of the Joyau and managing director of IIS. We’re a Coalition foundation, and we’ve traveled here to try to reopen our office planetside.” Van waited.
The simmie smiled politely. “Let me see who might best help you.”
Van waited for several minutes before the holo projection switched to the figure of a Coalition commodore in a wrinkled singlesuit. Her face was drawn, her eyes tired, and set in circles of black.
“Commander Albert. Or should I say Commodore Albert?”
“Commander or director. The commodore doesn’t count for much anymore.”
The faintest smile crossed her face. “Commodore Yoriki. I’m in charge of the restoration work here. I understand you had hoped to go planetside to reopen an office?”
“That had been my hope. I’ve just finished a similar project in another system.”
“It would have been my hope as well, Director Albert. But the Coalition has been
