A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [108]
Vao’sh placed a gentle hand on Anton’s sleeve. “You and I will entertain these revelers. It is the very core of what an Ildiran rememberer is meant to do. We preserve the stories, yes—but most of all, we must tell them. We bring the epic alive for all those who would listen. On Maratha, we will have our most receptive audience.”
Anton nodded as the shuttle docked against the immense dome. “My university colleagues in epic studies devote so much time to obscure references, journal articles, literary pretensions, and self-importance—they forget that, at the heart of the matter, they’re studying stories and entertainment. And if they can’t find an audience, then they have failed in their work.”
“I sense you have had this discussion before, my friend,” Vao’sh said. “Is it a thorn in your side?”
“My fellow scholars resent anyone who has an attentive audience.” Anton looked at the colorfully dressed Ildirans in the passenger craft. Outside, people in silvery suits and huge protective goggles walked about in the harsh daylight; others streamed through transparent tubes into the domes of Maratha Prime. “I feel like a medieval troubadour being sent to sing for kings and peasants.”
When the shuttle doors opened, a wave of furnace heat made Anton blink. The light dazzled him, and he had to adjust the filterfilm on his eyes. “This is even brighter than Ildira!”
“You will grow used to it. You might even enjoy it.”
“I’ll get a sunburn.” Anton followed him into the domed city, ready to impress the Ildiran vacationers, as well as Vao’sh. “But don’t worry. I definitely intend to enjoy this.”
54
ADAR KORI’NH
“Our Empire is spread too thin, Adar,” said the Mage-Imperator. “I have spent much time consulting with the skulls of my ancestors in the ossuarium, studying all the patterns of thism. It is clear that we have too many vulnerabilities, too many indefensible splinter colonies. Even the Solar Navy cannot protect them. Any world is a ripe target for the hydrogues.”
Kori’nh bowed as if he were being forced down by a heavy weight. “Liege, I can conceive of no military strategy that would effectively defend our planets. I have failed. Therefore, I must resign and ask that my name be stricken from the Saga of Seven Suns.”
The Mage-Imperator’s braid twitched like an angry tentacle. “Adar, I would not sever my strongest link. Even in this impossible situation, you are more competent than any other officer.” When he attempted to sit straighter in his chrysalis chair, the immense emperor seemed weaker, his skin grayish even under the dazzling light of seven suns.
A sudden wince like a thunderstorm crossed Cyroc’h‘s features. The Adar felt a jolt through the thism, a sympathetic reaction to his leader’s pain. Kori’nh lurched forward, trying to help somehow, but the Mage-Imperator stopped him with an upheld hand. “Do not concern yourself with my minor discomfort, when the Empire faces such a crisis.”
Kori’nh swallowed hard, but obeyed. He drew a long breath to focus himself. “Then what shall I do, Liege? How can I help?”
“While we wait and hope for the culmination of our Dobro project, we must determine which of our settlements are most vulnerable—those with the fewest people and most limited resources. We will redistribute the inhabitants to stronger colonies, pull our people together so that we can protect them with the strong force of the Solar Navy.”
“You wish to simply…abandon all those worlds, Liege?” The very idea seemed…impossible. The Saga had no record of such hard times. The Empire had never decreased in size.
“Unlike Crenna, the loss is not necessarily permanent. We can always re-establish those colonies once this war is over.” The Mage-Imperator’s eyes were hard and angry. “Provided we survive at all.”
The leader usually looked serene and content, pleased with the greatness of the Ildiran race. He was more knowledgeable and powerful than any living being; now, though, Cyroc’h