The Ascendant Stars - Michael Cobley [193]
And in another place, Theo and Rory are struggling across rain-lashed shards and boulders, harsh-lit by the actinic radiance of the warpwell revealed … Legion cyborgs rush up out of the hyperspace portal … one shows interest in the group of Humans clambering towards the opening … obedient, servile mechs glide towards them and horrible, uncertain fighting begins … Rory is snatched into the air … Theo takes the bomb from the fallen Rory … and Catriona can see his death …
And Greg continues through the doomed vessel … finds an airlock just as a Legion cyborg finds him … but he’s inside the lock, safe before the monster reaches the hatch … and Catriona sees his death … she reaches for him, for the ship, for that place, trying to make herself manifest … and Chel is there, before her.
‘You cannot,’ he says. ‘You must not use it this way or all the futures fail … ’
The truth of his words strikes her … she ducks it, sidesteps away from that ship with a sob and wail … and returns to the huge, shattered burial mound that Giant’s Shoulder has become … perhaps she can save Uncle Theo … or alter Rory’s path, helping him avoid being swept up by the cyborg … but Chel is there, hands raised, entreating …
‘You must not do this,’ he says again.
‘Then you be the Keeper,’ she replies, distraught. ‘I know what will happen, I’ve seen the destruction that my hands made … ’
‘Those were the ancient powers of Segrana, powers beneath the powers,’ Chel says. ‘You think that when Segrana chose you she did not know that such a choice would come before you? She knew it would, and she knew you and therefore knew how you would choose!’
‘I don’t … ’
‘She knew that you would have the will to grasp the power,’ says the Uvovo Seer. ‘That was the prerequisite which she could not be sure … I was capable of.’ Chel smiles. ‘You see? All events are balanced at this point, this fulcrum, and the fulcrum is you. Through the Keeper, through you, the Zyradin and Segrana will attain their fusion and through you the ancient powers beneath the powers will be focused.’ He closes his eyes suddenly, and a grimace of pain passes across his features. ‘Time is against me. Enemies gather nearby. You know what must be done … the sacrifice will not be for nothing … ’
‘But … what is it that I must do? … ’
He was gone, and she felt herself draw back, loosely gliding like a leaf in the grip of a determined breeze. Veils of images fluttered by as she passed by, all the pains and angers and sufferings of so many people, on Darien and in the ships fighting above the skies, all that anguish and rage, feeding itself like a circulating fountain of deadly poison. Then she was standing on the leafy floor of the dream-palace with the fragrance of the wallflowers filling her head.
** The time is now ** There is no better time **
‘I think I’m ready,’ she said. ‘Mind you, I’ve said that before and been shown the error of my ways … ’
Even before she finished the sentence the air was full of glowing blue motes that emerged from the walls and the floor and descended from the pillared heights, swirling round her, sinking into her form. Her senses seemed to open like doors and the immensity of Segrana rushed majestically in to enfold her. Her awareness stretched out, branched and subdivided and expanded until she realised that it was time to reach downward and inward for that ancient power of powers.
** This power exists for a reason ** As it did in the time of the Forerunners ** They knew that the war had to be won and they knew that if all else failed a great sacrifice would be needed ** It was not needed then, but it is needed now **
‘This is … a hard thing to face,’ she said. ‘How can you … ’
Past mirrors future mirrors present, but never perfectly, said Segrana. The flaws are the seeds around which great beauty can grow.
Around her the force of Segrana entwined while the gleaming, shining motes of the Zyradin swam through them both. In