Binary Part 23

"Listen to me. It would be in everyone's best interests for you to work with us, Aron. You can still be useful in the times to come. I will say this to you only once. If you are going to insist on being difficult, then I am just going to have to look at other alternatives. In the meantime, I still need the answers to my questions. No Men Darnak? Then what of the information you have from the mines?"

Still Ka Vail sat where he was, refusing to answer anything.

Again, Ky Menin sighed. "I'm afraid you leave me no choice." He shook his head briefly, motioned to his men to keep the Guildmaster where he was, and disappeared out to his offices. Despite the play of disappointment, he was actually quite looking forward to the opportunity this suddenly gave him. When he finally returned, Karin was looking at him expectantly. He returned her look blankly.

Aron Ka Vail sat stubbornly. He didn't even look up as Karryl re-entered. Ky Menin nodded to himself and crossed to stand in front of the old man.

"Are you sure, Ka Vail?" he said.

Nothing.

Slowly, deliberately, Karryl lifted his hand. Within it, he held a snub, shiny metal cylinder with three small projections at one end. At the opposite end, there was a dial, regulating settings. Karryl fiddled with the dial briefly, then leaned forward and pressed the three projections gently against Ka Vail's temple.

"What are you doing?" said Ka Vail.

Karryl ignored the question, and with a gentle pressure of his thumb, depressed a small stud at one end of the device. There was a quick cracking sound and the old man cried out, flinching back against the chair. Karryl glanced over at Karin. She was leaning forward, watching, her tongue pressed lightly against her upper lip. He turned back to the old man.

"This is a new tool I've had my people develop, Aron," he said. "As you can see, it appears quite effective. Now, are you going to tell us what we want to know?"

The old man was visibly paler, blinking, his eyes watering. He said nothing.

"Very well." Karryl reset the dial and leaned forward again. The old man shrank back against the chair. Karryl motioned to his men to restrain him, then pressed the device to the old man's temple. A quick pressure of his thumb, the cracking sound and the old man jerked, every muscle in his body tensing as he cried out, louder this time, the sound of pain in his voice.

"You-you, cannot do this," stammered Ka Vail, then groaned deep in his throat.

"Oh, but I can," said Karryl. Again, he adjusted the dial. Without even waiting for a response, he thrust the toy forward and activated it. The old man screamed this time, tears running out of his eyes, slumping down in the chair. Another low groan issued from his mouth.

"You can save yourself the pain," said Karryl.

He could barely hear the old man's voice as he spoke, haltingly. "I don't care what you do to me, Ky Menin. What I've done is right. Leannis Men Darnak will have any help I can give him. My men are with him, and they will protect him. They will take him as far away from you and her -- " He gestured with his head toward Karin. " -- as they can. Darthan will take him in. Then they will come back and deal with you."

Ky Menin smiled gently. "You're an old fool, Ka Vail." He leaned forward and activated the device again. As the old man screamed, his smile became broader.

"Guildmaster!" One of his men had released his hold on Ka Vail and had stepped back. "You cannot do this!"

"And who are you to question what I choose to do?" said Ky Menin, taking a step forward. "Do you need to learn your proper place too?" He took another step.

The man stood where he was. "I have a duty, Guildmaster. You cannot do this. By the Prophet. I have been with you for several seasons and I have seen what happens, but nothing warrants this. Nothing."

The smile remained on Ky Menin's face and he nodded twice. He said one simple word. "So." With a quick flick of his wrist, he adjusted the dial on his new toy and reached out to touch it to the man's skin and activate it in one single motion. A loud crack, and the man collapsed to the floor, not even issuing a sound. Ky Menin looked down at the crumpled heap on the floor, then back at the device with interest. Far more effective than he had imagined. He gave a satisfied nod, and then looked at the other man still hovering by Ka Vail's side. He could see fear in the man's eyes, but the man said nothing, merely swallowing under Ky Menin's gaze. Careful to put the dial back to a lower setting, he moved back to stand in front of the older Guildmaster. He leaned forward, bringing his face closer to Ka Vail's fearful features and spoke in a low, deadly voice.

"You're finished, Ka Vail. You have no more useful function, and by the time I've finished with you, you'll serve as a reminder to anyone who wants to work against us. The Guild, your Guild, will fall into place, and you'll be powerless to stop any of it."

Aron Ka Vail spoke haltingly, grimacing every couple of words as the pain washed through him afresh. "You're the one who is finished Ky Menin. The Kallathik will march and others will join them. You can do nothing to stop them. Better that they seize control at least temporarily rather than you have your way. You forget my sons. They will make you pay for this. You will pay."

Karin laughed. Ky Menin stood and barked a short, sharp ugly laugh as well.

"Your sons! You really are an old fool Ka Vail. How do you think we know about what you've been doing? Your sons! One's a halfwit, and the other is working with us, you pathetic old man. At least Jarid is bright enough to see that things have to change. And change they will."

"J-Jarid?" whispered Ka Vail, haltingly.

"Yes," said Ky Menin, leaning in closer for emphasis. "J-Jarid. Your beloved younger son." He gave a short laugh again, and applied the device quickly to the old man's forehead. Once more, the sharp crack, and the old man collapsed into a heap in the chair.

Ky Menin stood up, looking over to Karin. She was sitting calmly, watching the proceedings.

"What now?" she asked.

"Well, we can get rid of that," said Ky Menin, waving his hand at the unconscious form of Ka Vail. "If what he said is true, we will have to organize the Guilds ourselves. We have to put the Kallathik and anyone else in their place. We have the means of doing it. We can call the Guilds together for a meeting at your estates. Get Jarid to help you. He will be eager to a.s.sist with the old man out of the way. I'm sure that if he shows himself cooperating, he might just believe it will cement his position within Primary Production. We should use that."

Karin nodded, glancing back over at the unconscious Ka Vail. "And what about him?"

Ky Menin didn't even bother looking at the old man. I'll get my men to dump him somewhere outside the estates. He may not get far in the storms, but I think he'll serve us better alive. No matter if he doesn't make it though. Word will get out. They'll see what happens to those who choose to work against our interests."

Karin stood and crossed to join him. She reached out and took his hand. "I always believed you were the cleverest among them, Karryl," she said. There was a brief, amused, twitch of her lower lip, and something else resting in her gaze. The way she was looking at him...

Carefully, Ky Menin extricated his hand from her grasp. "Come on," he said. "We have things to prepare."

The slight narrowing of Karin's eyes did not escape his notice.

Twenty-Eight.

Tarlain had learned much since the Kallathik disclosure. The Atavists had been visiting for Season after Season, along with radical members of the Church of the Prophet. Even then, the Kallathik had been slow to respond, slow to do anything. Was it any wonder that their rapid locomotion came as a complete revelation? The rumors and occasional evidence of Kallathik disquiet over the Seasons had been the result of the constant pushing from Atavist visitors, but now, somehow, the Atavists had been able to convince the leaders of this sept that the time for action was nigh. It had to be linked to the instability of the transition as much as anything. He sighed and ran his fingers back through his hair, stopping the short pacing back and forth across the dim chamber. Everything he'd discussed with Din Baltir would come to nothing if this hive and others joined together in the manner they were suggesting. Whether the Kallathik liked it or not, the human population was here to stay. That didn't mean that those not a part of the Guild hierarchy had to suffer. What about the miners? What about the groups of itinerant workers? The farm workers? There were more here than the Atavists.

The miners and farmers...

An idea was starting to form. He linked his fingers behind his neck and stared up at the low ceiling, then caught himself. He'd seen his father doing exactly the same thing in his chambers when he was working through a knotty problem. It brought a quick grunt of surprise. Were such things pa.s.sed down from parent to child? He wondered briefly where his father was now.

The noise of a Kallathik moving down the pa.s.sageway outside brought him back to the immediate. If he was going to have any success with the creatures, he had to act soon. Who knew what it would take to stop them, or alter their course once they had started?

He waited till the noise of the Kallathik had faded, then slipped out into the dank pa.s.sageway, headed for the central chamber and the direction which the lines of hulking armored forms had taken to the outside.

There seemed to be no real order to the Kallathik grouping outside. There were small cl.u.s.ters, there were larger groups, there were even lines, spread out across the valley floor. Up near the main burrow entrance, four Kallathik stood, looking out over the rest of their kind, motionless. If there was any communication between these four, Tarlain could not tell from where he was. He thought that at least two of those standing up there on the hillside were familiar, but it was still hard to tell. Wasting no more time, he strode across the open s.p.a.ce heading for their position.

As he approached, one of the vast heads swiveled to face him. He picked up his pace and stood a couple of feet away directly in front of it.

"I need to talk to you," he said, mustering as much authority as he could.

There was a pause, and then the Kallathik spoke. "Talk," it said.

Tarlain wasn't sure whether it was a question or an invitation. He swallowed, took a deep breath and looked the Kallathik straight in its twinned pairs of eyes. "This is wrong. There is a better way," he said.

A slight shaking of the Kallathik's tail section and it turned its face away.

"No!" said Tarlain. "You will listen to me."

The vast head turned slowly back and the Kallathik readjusted the position of the spear it held. Tarlain swallowed again, but this was too important to let the gesture intimidate him. The creature said nothing, just fixing him with its unreadable gaze.

"You are making the wrong choice," he said. "My people have made wrong choices too, but there is a better way. What are you going to do? Seek out every last man woman and child and kill them? You are a peaceful race. I know it. You have no strife, no trouble among your kind. You don't kill. You work together."

"Kill," said the Kallathik. "You kill. You kill each other. You kill us."

Tarlain frowned. "What?"

"Here, in the mines, everywhere. We have seen and we have remembered. We have learned the way."

But that couldn't be right. If it was true, it had been kept quiet within the machinations of the Guilds responsible. Tarlain's mind was racing. How was he going to convince them of anything if it was really true?

"If this is true, if all of this is true," he said, "why are you talking to me? Why do you not take that spear you hold and drive it through my body?" He slapped his chest in emphasis. His heart was pounding in his ears. It could all end here, all of it.

The Kallathik shifted its grip as if considering. Tarlain spread his arms wide, giving the Kallathik a clear and open target. Again it shifted, and then it gave a deep, low growl, a sound Tarlain had never heard before. He waited, the moment dragging on for an eternity.

"There are those of my kind who would not hesitate," he said. Why do you hesitate?"

Silence.

"You said yourself that there are two types of my people. There's more than that. What you are doing is not right."

He slowly lowered his arms. "What do you want? What do your people want? We aren't going away. You said so yourself. I don't know why, but the Atavists want to rid this world of all who are not their kind. Maybe it's just some Atavists; I don't know. Our people are not all the same. Would you do this to your own kind?" He knew he was taking a risk with the argument -- he had no real knowledge of Kallathik history. None of them did.

Again there was the low growl. Another Kallathik echoed the sound, turning its head to look at Tarlain too. He was getting their attention.

"Our people have used your kind. These Atavists, these others are using you too."

Another of the Kallathik clacked and burred something, but he couldn't stop now.

"You have been treated wrongly. Our own people have been treated wrongly. Yes, it's a time for change. Everything is changing, but this is not the way. You have to believe me. I want this to stop as much as you do. There is a way. I think there is a better way. Think about the forests. Think about the trees."

Another head swiveled to look at him. A quick burr from another of the group, then another low growl. Tarlain had to find something that would make sense to them. He glanced around, seeking...then saw one of the ajura wood totems near the edge of the hillside.

"The sacred ajura grows. It stands in peace. But there are parasites that grow upon them, making some of them ill. You have seen it. These plants suck the life from the trees. They make them die. There are people who do the same thing. There are parasites and diseases amongst us. Do you kill all the trees to rid them of the parasites?" He had no idea if the logic of the a.n.a.logy would make any sense to them. Again he slapped his chest. "Now! Here! I am here. I am one of them. Why do you not kill me?"

The Kallathik nearest him went still.

"There is another way. Listen to me. We can work together. Change will not be easy. Let us fix what should be fixed. If there are parasites, we will root them out. We will purge this world of the disease. If we must march on the Guilds, then march we must, but let us do this together. Let me show you that we can work together. Let me convince others of my kind to march with us. Let me show you. The miners, the farmers, others. We can do this. Give me that chance. I beg you." He could feel the pa.s.sion washing inside him. His eyes were damp. The Kallathik were still.

Tarlain dropped his hands to his sides, a great weariness washing over him. There was no reaction to tell him that anything he'd said was having any real effect. He looked from broad unreadable face to broad unreadable face. Nothing.

He was just about to try and summon the energy for another attempt, when the lead Kallathik growled and quickly followed it with a high chattering sound and a succession of short clipped syllables.

As one, the four Kallathik went still. All around the valley, Kallathik went still.

Twenty-Nine.

Using the multi-purpose hiking stick he carried with him -- a gift from one of the other workers -- Markis prodded at the small smoky fire. It was always hard to find enough to make a decent fire, and they burned with a half-hearted sluggish flame that did little to cut through the chill. At least it wasn't raining, and he could be thankful that the wind had died down. He tugged the cap lower over his forehead, trying to capture and retain some of his own warmth.

He looked around the rude camp, wondering what he was going to do next. He'd left his fellow travelers a few days back when news of the happenings had reached him, convinced that there would be at least something he could do. The messenger had told them of the things happening around Bortruz and beyond, some sort of activity, but the details were sketchy.

He looked around the blank hillside, down on the estates and across the empty landscape. He'd found a slight hollow which provided at least a hint of shelter, but that's all he had: a hint of shelter, the clothes he wore, a pack with a few travel essentials and the walking stick. It wasn't much to reflect where he had come from. He poked at the reluctant fire again. Still, change went two ways. Things either got better or things got worse. He couldn't see how things could possibly get worse from here. He'd lost just about everything. At least he still had what he believed in. In the meantime, he would have to find some way to keep himself alive. He could forage from the land, take what he could, but the estates were hardly likely to be taking on workers in the current circ.u.mstance. He looked up at the sky, at the remaining streamers of darkening light, then back down at the fire. It would be night soon, and the cold would descend. He leaned back and rummaged through his pack, pulling out the blanket and bundling it to one side. He patted the heap and thought about the things he'd learned over the past few weeks.

His companions may have been relatively low in the order of things, but they'd been open and giving. They had shown generosity where there was no reason to give it. They'd offered him solace and shelter and taught him, when there was nothing they owed him. Compared to the others he knew in his former life within the Guild hierarchy, these men who had virtually nothing to their names were a different sort. He wondered briefly how people all descended from the one origin could be so unalike. Everyone, all of them, had come from the First Families, or what remained of that population who had made it down to the planet. They were all the same stock, the same set of beliefs and values, and yet such variation still existed. Had such diverse groups existed on the ship itself during the many years of travel across the void?

With a grunt, his thoughts returned to his own situation as he poked at the fire again. He didn't know which estates he was near. He'd headed blindly in the direction that the Storm Season holdings lay, guided by the brief directions given him by Abaile, but he was in no position to tell one from the other. Somewhere down there, not visible for now, lay his own family holdings. Not seeing the Ka Vail estates -- he wasn't ready to deal with that yet -- was a relief. He thought he was somewhere close to the Ky Menin holdings, but he couldn't be sure. Somewhere nearby sat his father and brother and the knowledge filled him with a strange mix of emotions. Somewhere nearby sat everything he had once held dear.

Some motion in one of the fields ahead drew his attention, and using the stick to bear his weight, he pushed himself to his feet. The firelight, meager though it was, made it difficult to distinguish anything, and he stepped away from its circle so that he might see better.

A pair of figures was approaching. They were heading directly for where he stood. They both looked old, though how he could tell from this distance, he didn't know. One of the figures seemed to be supporting the other, guiding him. Taking a firm grip on his staff, Markis headed down the hillside to meet them.

As he neared the approaching pair, Markis felt his breath catch. Even through the descending gloom, he could recognize one of the two men -- the one being helped across the field, his weight supported, one hand held out in front of him as if trying to feel his way. It was his father, Aron Ka Vail. He barely had time to wonder what had happened to him before he was charging across the intervening s.p.a.ce. Anything that had gone before didn't matter. The old man was obviously in trouble.

"What's happened?" he asked as he pulled up in front of them. He at least had the caution to think better about revealing his ident.i.ty just yet.

"This man needs help," said the older Guildsman leading Aron Ka Vail. "Do you want a job?"

"What is it?" said Markis again, adopting the speech of the itinerant workers he'd been traveling with. "What you want?"

"You can earn some money if you take this man to Darthan. There will be people there who will take him."

Markis peered into his father's face, but Aron Ka Vail didn't appear to see him. "Who is he?"

"That doesn't matter," said the Guildsman. "All you have to do is lead him to Darthan and look after him." The Guildsman dug inside one pocket and pulled out a purse. He hefted in one hand, showing its weight.

Markis's heart was pounding in his chest, and it was all he could do to keep his voice level, to keep the torrent of questions from tumbling from his lips.

"He don't look well," he said after a pause. "What's happened to him?"

"Leave me," croaked Aron. "They will take it out on you if you help me."

"What's he talking about?" asked Markis, still peering again into his father's face.