Destiny's shield

those who make it, or be imposed upon them by others.'

He spoke no further words on the subject.

Nor did Baresmanas-then, or ever. In this, the sahrdaran was true to his Aryan myths and legends. He had given his word; he would keep it.

The skeptical scholar in him, of course, found his own stiff honor amusing. Just as he found it amusing that the cunning, low-born Roman would never have revealed his secret, had he not understood that Aryan rigor.

Most amusing, of course, was another thought.

To have picked such a man for an enemy! Demons, when all is said and done, are stupid.

Aide, however, was not amused at all. In the hours that followed, while the army found the ford scouted by the Arab cavalrymen and crossed to the left bank of the Euphrates, and then encamped for the night, Belisarius could sense the facets shimmering in their thoughts. The thoughts themselves he could not grasp, but he knew that Aide was pondering something of great importance to him.

The crystal did not speak to him directly until the camp had settled down, the soldiers all asleep except for the posted sentinels. And a general, who had patiently stayed awake himself, waiting in the darkness for his friend to speak.

Do you really think that is what it is about? Our struggle with the new gods?

Yes.

Pause. Then, plaintively:

And what of us? Do we play no role? Or is it only humans that matter?

Belisarius smiled.

Of course not. You are part of us. You, too, are human.

We are not! shrieked the crystal. We are different! That is why you created us, because-because-

Aide was in a frenzy such as Belisarius had not seen since the earliest days of his encounter with the jewel. Despair-frustration-loneliness-confusion-most of all, a frantic need to communicate.

But it was not the early days. The differences between two mentalities had eased, over the years. Eased far more than either had known.

Finally, finally, the barrier was ruptured completely. A shattering vision swept Belisarius away, as if he were cast into the heavens by a tidal wave.

Chapter 15

Worlds upon worlds upon worlds, circling an incomprehensible number of suns. People on those worlds, everywhere-but people changed and transformed. Misshapen and distorted, most of them. So, at least, most men would say, flinching.

Death comes, striking many of those worlds. The very Earth itself, scoured clean by a plague which spared no form of life. Nothing left-except, slowly, here and there, an advancing network of crystals.

Aide's folk, Belisarius realized, come to replace those who had destroyed their own worlds. Created, by those who had slain themselves, to be their heirs.

Belisarius hung in the darkness. Around him, below him, above him-in all directions-spun great whirling spirals of light and beauty.

Galaxies.

He sensed a new presence, and immediately understood its meaning. A great sigh of relief swept through him.

Finally, finally-

He saw a point of light in the void. A point, nothing more, which seemed infinitely distant. But he knew, even in the seeing, that the distance was one of time not space.

Time opened, and the future came.

The point of light erupted, surged forward. A moment later, floating before Belisarius, was one of the Great Ones.

The general had seen glimpses of them, before. Now, for the first time, he saw a Great One clearly.

As clearly, at least, as he ever could. He understood, now, that he would never see them fully. Too much of their structure lay in mysterious forces which would never be seen by earthly eyes.

A new voice came to him. Like Aide's, in a way, but different.

force fields. energy matrices. there is little in us left of our earthly origins. and no flesh at all.

Like a winged whale, vaguely, in its broad appearance. If ever a whale could swim the heavens, glowing from an inner light. But much, much larger. The Great One dwarfed any animal that had ever lived.

Our dimensions measure eight by three by two, approximately, in the visible spectrum. What you call miles. Our mass is-difficult to calculate. It depends on velocity. We can attain 93 % light speed, at our utmost-call it exertion. We must be very careful, approaching a solar system. Should one of us impact a planet, at that velocity, we would destroy it. And possibly ourselves as well.

The being had no eyes, no mouth, no apparent sense organs of any kind. Yet the general knew that the Great One could detect everything that any human could, and much else besides.

He saw into the being, now. Saw the glittering network of crystals which formed the Great One's-heart? Soul?

They are our heritage now. Our creators, as much as our creations. They do for us what something called DNA once did for our ancient ancestors. Allow the future to exist.

Belisarius studied the crystalline network more closely. The crystals, he thought, seemed much like Aide. Yet, somehow different.

Aide is much different. It-no, for you it will always be 'HE'-bears the same relationship to these as you do to a bacterium. Akin,but greater.

The Great One sensed the general's incomprehension. What is a 'bacterium'?

As you do to an earthworm. Or, better, a mushroom. We designed these crystals for our own survival. But then discovered we could not make them, or use them, unless we created a crystal intelligence to guide and assist us. Those became Aide's people.

They were your slaves, then. As I have heard the 'new gods' say.

Never .

There came a sense of mirth; vast, yet whimsical. And the general knew, then-finally-that these almost inconceivable beings were truly his own folk. He had but to look in a mirror, to see the crooked smile that would, someday, become that universe-encompassing irony-and that delight in irony.

The peasant who tills the field brings children into the world-to help in the labor, among other things. Are those children slaves?

They can be, replied the general. I have seen it, more often than I like to remember.

The sense of wry humor never faded.

Not in your house. Not in your field. Not in your smithy.

No, but-

The Great One swelled, swirled. Looped the heavens, prancing on wings of light and shadow.

And whose child am I-craftsman?

There was a soundless peal, that might be called joyful laughter. The Great One swept off, dwindling.

Wait! called out Belisarius.

No. You have enough. I must be off to join my brethren and see the universe. Our family-your descendants-have filled that universe. Filled it with wonder that we would share and build upon. We do not have much time, in our short lives, to delve that splendor. A million years, perhaps-not counting time dilation.