Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [93]
Daro’h frowned. “That sounds…dishonorable.”
Drawing a deep breath, Udru’h said, “Nevertheless, the Ildiran Empire survived—and the Klikiss did not.”
The young Designate-in-waiting listened with a look of mingled fascination and horror. Udru’h continued. “But we have never entirely trusted the robots. They are machines nearly as alien as the hydrogues. In those ancient treaties, we agreed to many things, as did the robots, yet all along we knew we could not rely on them—just as we knew the hydrogues would not remain quiescent forever.
“Therefore, to protect ourselves, we sought a new way to form a bridge between Ildirans and hydrogues, a means of communication transcending simple words and thoughts. Thousands of years ago we began this program, combining kiths and bloodlines in an attempt to enhance our own telepathy. But even the best of each generation advanced our ability by only the smallest increment.
“After thousands of years, we finally developed the lens kithmen, who exhibit enhanced mental skills. They can touch the thism more readily than other kiths, though not as well as the Mage-Imperator or his direct bloodline. Even though the lens kithmen became marginally stronger with each generation, we despaired that it would ever be enough, or in time.”
Daro’h guessed the next part. “And then you found the humans.”
Udru’h smiled sardonically. “Yes. They offered genetic variations that let us jump ahead by at least a hundred generations. Their mental abilities were like a potent catalyst when added to Ildiran bloodlines—and not a moment too soon. The Klikiss robots have failed to keep the hydrogues away from Ildiran worlds, whether through their inability or outright treachery. Either way, we require our own bridge to negotiate directly.”
“Do the Klikiss robots hate us, then?”
Udru’h looked at him. “We cannot know what the robots think, but we know they are capable of deception and betrayal. It is clear, however, that their fear of us grows as they lose their leverage and the war continues to escalate. We know many things they do not wish others to remember.”
Across the room, young Osira’h finished a training exercise and ran over to them, her eyes sparkling. The Dobro Designate smiled and reached out to the telepathic half-breed girl, while Daro’h looked curiously at his half sister. “And so, Osira’h must become our intermediary. We are counting on her to make matters right with the hydrogues.”
The girl returned his smile, but her voice was solemn. “I will be ready, Designate. I promise.”
Chapter 47—CELLI
As they flew on a lightweight gliderbike over the ruins of the worldforest, Celli wrapped her arms tightly around the green priest’s waist. She had flown with Solimar numerous times now and had long since gotten over her fear of the unsteady vehicle with its furiously flapping condorfly wings. However, she didn’t mind having an excuse to press herself against the young man’s brawny back. She didn’t think Solimar minded, either.
The self-contained engine thrummed as the green priest accelerated and circled over a new burn area. “It just goes on and on,” Solimar said. “We’ve flown for hours, and the scar extends as far as my gliderbike can take us.”
Celli sensed her friend’s gloom and felt it in her own heart. She wanted to console him, to tell Solimar that everything would be all right, that the worldforest would recover—and though she believed that to be true, the task of restoration seemed nearly impossible.
“The worldforest has been hurt enough,” she said. “Maybe the most important thing we can do is to believe. Let the trees draw optimism from you, Solimar. You’re a green priest. Maybe they need to have hope as much as they need time to heal.”
She felt the young green priest’s shoulders