LITMIR.BIZ

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people. The Narain once were Architects, too. Only, they had left Tannahill to find their own way towards Ede. Heretics, Bertram Jaspari called them. And so he brought his facifah to the Narain. He returned them to Ede. In one of his ships, the Iviomils carry a morrashar. A star-killer. Bertram Jaspari ordered his Iviomils to use this machine to destroy this star. To destroy a whole planet, a whole people. I … know he did. I saw the star explode. On my return through the Vild, I found the remnants of this star, the gases and radioactive dust. But there was nothing left of the Narain people.’

      Almost the moment that Danlo had finished speaking, Burgos Harsha slapped his hand against the top of his table so that a loud crack rang out into the room. He glared at Lord Pall and asked, ‘Is what the pilot says true?’

      Cetics – the Lord Cetic above all others – are supposed to be able to read falsity or truth from the tells that mark a man’s face. Lord Pall looked at Hanuman, who had been looking at Danlo. Hanuman softly tapped his knuckles together and held his eyes unblinking. It seemed that he was passing secret knowledge to Lord Pall and controlling him in a secret and subtle way. After a moment, Lord Pall made a sign to his interpreter, who said, ‘Danlo wi Soli Ringess has always been the most truthful of men – as far as he can see what is true and what is not. But we needn’t accept his word only. Look at this Holy Ivi, Bertram Jaspari! One doesn’t have to be a cetic to see what is written on his face.’

      In truth, Bertram Jaspari, far from denying the murder of the Narain people, now fairly exulted in this terrible act. Danlo had shown him for who he really was; very well, then, he would pretend to friendship no longer. His bluish face fell through the shallow emotions of sanctity and ambition, perhaps touched with an underlying sadism. In truth, it was much to his purpose that his power be known. He looked at Lord Pall, smiled at Danlo, and then quoted from his holy Algorithm: ‘The Iviomils are those vastened in God who shall wield the light of the stars like swords.’

      Most of the lords sitting at their tables that day were old but far from senile. No one supposed that Bertram Jaspari was speaking metaphorically, in a spiritual sense. They looked at Bertram Jaspari and no one doubted that this ugly man meant to rule the Civilized Worlds through the threat of destroying them.

      ‘Harrah en li Ede had fallen into negative programs,’ Bertram Jaspari explained. ‘The Algorithm tells us that anyone who has so fallen must be cleansed – by the fire of a facifah, if necessary. All peoples who deny Ede’s Program for the Universe must be cleansed.’

      At this, Morasha the Bright, a white-haired exemplar from Veda Luz, pointed a bony finger at Bertram and asked the lords, ‘If this man holds the power to destroy stars, why didn’t he use this morrashar against Tannahill’s star before he fled the Vild?’

      Bertram Jaspari smiled at this obvious question, then explained, ‘Despite what the pilot has told you, we Iviomils are not murderers. Most of our fellow Architects on Tannahill know Harrah’s redefinitions of the Programs of Increase and Totality to be in error. Would you have us cleanse an entire planet merely for the negative programs of an old woman and those who support the oppression of her architectcy?’

      He hopes to return to Tannahill, Danlo suddenly knew. Someday, after regaining power, he hopes to return and rule Tannahill as the Church’s Holy Ivi.

      Lord Pall watched Hanuman pursing his thin lips, and then, with a flick of his fingers, he said, ‘I’m afraid we must assume that Bertram Jaspari is willing and able to use this morrashar to destroy the Star of Neverness.’

      For a moment, no one spoke and no one moved. Bertram Jaspari sat staring at the lords, and his face had fallen implacable with his purpose.

      Burgos Harsha, whose face had been scarred when a hydrogen bomb had blown in the windows of the Timekeeper’s Tower, had a particular hatred of any man willing to explode hydrogen into light. He glared at Bertram, and in his growly old voice, he said, ‘It may be that this “Holy Ivi” possesses the means to destroy our star. I’ve often warned against the tolerance of the forbidden technologies. But how is he to use this technology, this morrashar of which Danlo wi Soli Ringess has spoken? Wouldn’t his fleet have to manoeuvre close to the Star of Neverness if he wishes to destroy her? And aren’t our pilots adept enough to detect the Iviomil ships the moment they fall out of the manifold and destroy them?’

      This touched off a wild round of argument as the lords broke into groups of three or four and debated the strategies that the Iviomils might use to explode their star. Finally, Lord Pall waved his hand, blinked his little pink eyes, and said, ‘I see that Danlo wi Soli Ringess has more to tell us.’

      ‘I do,’ Danlo said. He squeezed the black diamond pilot’s ring that he wore around his little finger, and then said, ‘There is a ronin pilot who followed me into the Vild. He provided passage for Malaclypse Redring, who hoped that I would lead him to my father. Both these men followed me through the stars, all the way to Tannahill. I could not lose them.’

      ‘What was this pilot’s name?’ Lord Pall asked.

      The lords had now fallen deathly silent, and the room was so quiet that Danlo could hear his heart beating like a drum.

      ‘It was Sivan wi Mawi Sarkissian in the Red Dragon,’ Danlo said. ‘I believe that he pilots the deep-ship containing the Iviomils’ morrashar.’

      Again Bertram Jaspari smiled, affirming what Danlo knew to be true.

      ‘Sivan wi Mawi Sarkissian!’ Rodrigo Diaz said. Many of the lords sighed and groaned at this name, but most just continued to stare at Bertram Jaspari as if they wished their vows permitted them the indulgence of murder.

      ‘Before Sivan left the Order,’ Jonath Parsons said, ‘he was a pilot of the first rank. Perhaps the equal of Salmalin or even Mallory Ringess.’

      ‘But why would he serve a sect of star-killing fanatics?’

      None of the lords had an answer to this question, not even Lord Pall who could read most men’s minds as easily as he might a map of the city’s streets. Hanuman’s face was silent as he closed his eyes and disappeared for a moment into a private, interior world illuminated by the clearface that covered his head. And then Malaclypse Redring, who flashed Danlo a quick, almost secret smile, said, ‘He serves me; he serves the Order of Warrior-Poets.’

      ‘Traitor!’ twenty lords shouted at once. And then fifty other voices: ‘Ronin! Wayless! Renegade!’

      Malaclypse held up his red-ringed hands for the lords to regain their restraint and compose themselves. Then he told them, ‘You might do better to ask why my Order has allied itself with these Iviomils of the Cybernetic Universal Church.’

      ‘Well, why have you?’ Burgos Harsha asked.

      ‘That’s no mystery,’ Kolenya Mor said. ‘The warrior-poets have been trying to destroy our Order for seven thousand years.’

      ‘It … is more than that,’ Danlo said. He paused to see Hanuman eyeing him coolly, then told the lords a secret that he had shared with no one except Bardo for more than ten years. ‘I learned this from the warrior-poet, Marek, in the library – it was the day that he tried to kill Hanuman li Tosh.’

      Now Hanuman’s eyes were as hard and cold as frozen pools of water. He must have well remembered how Marek had threatened to push his killing knife slowly up the optic nerve of his eye. Certainly he remembered the pain of his torture at Marek’s hand for Marek had touched him with a dart tipped with ekkana: a drug that continued to poison him and would cause the nerves of his body to burn like fire for the rest of his life.

      ‘Please go on,’ Lord Pall said to Danlo.

      Danlo bowed his head to Hanuman in honour of the terrible pain that he would have to bear moment by moment for ever – or until the cold hand of death fell upon his face and relieved him of his agony. Then he said, ‘The warrior-poets have a new rule. They would slay all potential gods. This is why Malaclypse followed me across the Vild. He hoped that I would lead him to my father. He … hopes to slay him.’

      ‘But

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