The Dance of Time b-6 Read online

  Belisarius had known he would be. Had that man not been present, he might never have dared to do this. Belisarius was probably as great a general as Alexander the Great, but he never thought like Alexander. He was who he was because of the men he knew how to lead-and rely upon-not because he thought he was the son of Zeus.

  The gag came off.

  "LISTEN TO ME, BELISARIUS. THERE IS STILL TIME-"

  Quickly, he replaced the gag. "Shut up, monster. I just needed to hear that voice. To be sure."

  He stepped back and drew his spatha. Guide me, Aide.

  Were any other girls found?

  He passed the question along. Damodara answered: "One. She's not more than two years old. I think she's the daughter of one of the provincial governors. I have her in a chamber upstairs. I haven't known what to do with her, either."

  Destroy the machines first. Without the machines, Link is trapped in this body sitting before you. The little girl upstairs will be. . probably not a very normal child. But a harmless one.

  Again, Aide anticipated the next question:

  These are just machines, Belisarius. No different, in the end, than a simple pottery wheel. In some ways, in fact, even more fragile. Anastasius and a big hammer will do fine.

  That required a delay, to have a maul brought down. But, eventually, the maul arrived and Anastasius went to work.

  With a vengeance, as the expression went-and no expression here. Not even in the battle in the tight confines of Great Lady Holi's cabin had Belisarius seen Anastasius swing a mace with such violence.

  In three minutes, it was done, and Anastasius stepped back.

  Throughout, Link had simply observed. There had been no expression at all in the girl's face. The eyes had neither narrowed nor widened. There had been no frown. No tightening of the jaws.

  Nothing.

  It is simply a calculator, Belisarius. Even now, when the probabilities within which it moves are a tiny fraction of one percent, it is still calculating. It will never stop calculating. It cannot. It. .

  There came the crystalline equivalent of a deep sigh. It is really, really not human. Not even in the way we crystals are, or the Great Ones. It is just a machine itself. Programmed to do what it does-can only do-by monsters.

  Yes, I understand. Belisarius stepped forward, within a pace of the girl bound to the chair. His grip on the spatha was tight, much tighter than he would have held it in an actual fight.

  Will it. .

  Yes. Destroy the girl's body and you destroy Link. It does not "die," exactly, for it was never alive at all. But it will be gone. It will no longer exist.

  Still, he hesitated. Whatever he knew, his emotional reactions could not avoid the monster's form.

  True enough, Belisarius had slain young girls. Many times, in fact. Just recently, his burning and destruction in the Ganges campaign had condemned many such to death. Damodara had agreed to send relief expeditions, as soon as possible. But with the inevitable chaos attendant upon a successful rebellion, no expedition could possibly arrive in time to save everyone.

  Dozens of seven- and eight-year-old girls just like this one-more likely hundreds, or possibly even thousands-would be dying soon. Some were dead already. Each and every one of whom could, rightfully, have had the words Murdered by Belisarius engraved on their tomb markers.

  Still, he hadn't done it personally. And if that difference might be meaningless, on a philosophical level, a man does not hold and wield a spatha using philosophy. He uses muscles and nerves and blood shaped and molded by emotion from the time he is born.

  Don't be foolish, Aide said softly. You know the answer. Why be proud, at the end, when you never were before?

  He was right, of course. Belisarius stepped back.

  "Valentinian. A last service, if you would."

  "Sure, General."

  The cataphract came forward, his spatha flashed, and it was over. A spray of blood across shattered machinery, and a small head rolling to a stop in a corner. The gag never even came off, as neatly and economically-as miserly-as it had been done.

  "Thank you."

  "My pleasure."

  Belisarius turned to Damodara, whose shoulders seemed slumped in relief. "And now, Emperor-"

  Do that later, Belisarius. Please. I want to go outside.

  Belisarius hesitated, for a moment. There were the needs of politics, but. .

  This was Aide's great triumph, not Damodara's.

  Certainly, if you wish. I can understand that you find this chamber unsettling.

  It's not that. It's just a cellar, now. That blood is just blood. That severed head just one of many I've seen. But I still don't want this to be. .

  He hesitated. Then: It's not where I want to leave. I want to see the sky over India, when it happens.

  A great terrible fear clutched Belisarius' heart.

  What are you talking about?

  Again, that crystalline sort of sigh. I've been glad, these past years, that you never figured it out. I was afraid you would, and it would just cause you pain-since you could have done nothing else anyway. But the time is here, now.

  Softly, gently: The moment Link was destroyed, the future changed. Not in all ways, and-it's too complicated to explain, and I don't have much time left-the people alive there now won't be destroyed. Time is like a flowing river, and if you shift the banks it will still most likely end at the same delta. But I live here and now, not then and there, and the timeline that created me-the need for me-has vanished. Will vanish, at least, very soon.

  "You're dying?" Without realizing he'd done so, Belisarius cried the words aloud. Then, frantically, scrabbled to bring the jewel's pouch from under his tunic.

  It's more like I simply become impossible. But I suppose that's all that death is, in the end. That point at which the almost infinitely complex interactions of natural forces that we call a "life" just becomes too improbable to continue.

  "He's dying," Belisarius choked. He had the pouch out, finally, and spilled the jewel onto his palm.

  Aide looked. .

  The same as always. Glittering, coruscating. Beautiful.

  Please, Belisarius. I want to see the sky over India.

  He took the stairs three steps at a time. Never even thinking about the emperor he left behind, open-mouthed.

  Chapter 41

  Kausambi

  Belisarius knocked down two courtiers in the palace's corridors and rolled another halfway down the steps leading to the main entrance, before he finally reached a place on the square fronting the palace that was sun-drenched. He had no memory of it, afterward. All he remembered was the all-consuming, desperate hope that exposing the jewel to full daylight would somehow change things.

  A stupid hope, really, on the part of a man who was anything but stupid. As if light rays and summer heat could alter the nature of space and time.

  Sit down, will you? said Aide. You're gasping for breath.

  Belisarius was winded. Winded and half-exhausted. Even for a still-young man in very good physical condition, that long race up the stairs from the deep cellars had taken a toll.

  He more or less collapsed onto one of the wide stone benches that lined the square in front of the palace. Dully, staring at the blue sky above.

  Why? he asked, and began to weep. You knew all along, didn't you? Why didn't you tell me?

  Actually, I didn't know at the beginning. If you remember, I didn't know very much, then. But I realized within the first year, yes. First, because it was obvious. And then, because I remembered.

  Belisarius lowered his head and pinched his eyes. Remembered what?

  My last conversation with the Great Ones. Just before they sent me here. Well, "sent" isn't exactly the right word. Neither is "me," for that matter. I wasn't really me, when I left, and I wasn't sent here so much as they made it possible. .

  He was silent, for a moment. It's really hard to explain, Belisarius. What existed then-in the future-was nothing you would have recognized a
s "Aide." I emerged here, over time, where I had only been faceted crystals before. What was sent here was not a "me" that had never existed before, but more in the way of the condensed facets. A package of potential, if you will, not a real person.

  Apologetically: I know it doesn't make much sense to you. But it's true. The Great Ones told me I would change, and they were right.

  His eyes still pinched, Belisarius shook his head. Those bastards. They sent you here to die, is what they did.

  Yes, in a way. But it's not that simple. If I didn't die-volunteer for it-my people wouldn't live.

  Angrily, Belisarius dropped his hand and slapped his thigh. "Bullshit!" he shouted, aloud. Don't tell me they couldn't have handled those so-called "new gods" on their own-without this.

  Yes, but-

  The crystal's flashing image in Belisarius' mind seemed to freeze, for an instant. Then, sounding very relieved, Aide said: They're coming. I hoped they would. I will let them explain.

  For the second time in his life, Belisarius felt himself swept away into the heavens, as if blown there by a giant's gust.

  As before, he found himself hanging in darkness. Somewhere-somehow-suspended in space. Able to observe the stars and galaxies, but not really part of that universe.

  And, as before, he saw a point of light erupt, and come before him in the form of a Great One. Only, this time, it was many points of light and many Great Ones. He seemed to be facing a three-dimensional phalanx of the beings.

  Why? he demanded of them, feeling-this time-none of the awe he had felt before. Only anger. Couldn't you have done it some other way?

  One of the Great Ones swirled and moved closer. OF COURSE, GRANDFATHER. BUT AT WHAT COST? THE QUESTION WAS NEVER THAT OF THE FATE OF THE NEW GODS. ONCE THEY DESTROYED THEIR PLANET, THEY WERE AT OUR MERCY. WE COULD HAVE ERASED THEM FROM EXISTENCE AT ANY TIME-AS, INDEED, WE SHALL DO NOW. BUT ONLY AT THE COST OF CONDEMNING AIDE'S NOT-YET-PEOPLE TO PERPETUAL SLAVERY.

  I don't-

  AIDE JUST TOLD YOU HIMSELF. HE ONLY BECAME AIDE WITH YOU. ONLY WHEN, FOR THE FIRST TIME, A CRYSTAL ACCEPTED THAT IT WAS SOMETHING GREATER THAN A SERVANT. A SLAVE-NOT ONLY TO THE NEW GODS, BUT TO US, WHO CREATED THEM.

  A second Great One looped above, now speaking also. TELL US, BELISARIUS. HOW DO YOU MANUMIT A SLAVE WHO DOES NOT THINK HE IS A HUMAN? IN FACT, IS NOT-YET-A HUMAN.

  The huge, glowing creature completed the loop and began spinning slowly. WE DID NOT SEND AIDE TO YOU SO THAT HE MIGHT DIE. WE SENT HIM SO THAT HE MIGHT LIVE, AND BE BORN, AND BECOME SOMETHING WITH A NAME OF HIS OWN. WHICH, WITH YOUR HELP, HE DID. AND NOW, HAVING DONE SO, MUST NATURALLY DIE. JUST AS YOU WILL DIE. JUST AS WE WILL DIE. JUST AS ALL HUMANS DIE.

  He doesn't have to die this young! Belisarius shrieked.

  YES, HE DOES. JUST AS MOST OF YOUR SOLDIERS ALSO DIE YOUNG. JUST AS YOU-A YOUNG MAN-MIGHT HAVE DIED ANY OF A HUNDRED TIMES DURING THE WAR. IF YOU WANT AIDE TO BE HUMAN-TRULY HUMAN AND NO LONGER A SLAVE TO ANYONE-THEN YOU HAVE TO GIVE HIM THAT CHOICE. CHOICE, GRANDFATHER. WHICH HE MADE, NOT US.

  FINALLY. AFTER MILLENNIA WHEN THE CRYSTALS COULD NOT ACCEPT THAT CHOICE-THE SIMPLE ABILITY TO CHOOSE-WAS THEIRS ALSO. JUST AS IT IS OURS, AND YOURS, AND THE BIRTHRIGHT OF EVERY MEMBER OF EVERY BRANCH AND FORM OF HUMANKIND. THIS TIME, THEY WERE BOLD ENOUGH TO TRY. THEY TRIED, AND THEY TRIUMPHED. WOULD YOU NOW, AT THE END, DENY AIDE AND HIS PEOPLE THAT GREAT VICTORY?

  Belisarius felt as if he were reeling, though he simply hung in space. He tried to come up with an answer, but. .

  Couldn't.

  Aide's voice came then, almost timidly. I am content, Belisarius. Really, I am. I will be the first crystal in history who had a name. And whose name will be remembered.

  MORE THAN REMEMBERED! That voice came roaring, just as the point of light from which it emanated also came roaring forward. A moment later, a new Great One hung in space before Belisarius.

  This one. . was immense. Truly immense. It dwarfed its companions.

  Yet, despite its gargantuan size, it seemed somehow frail. As if it were shredded both at the edges and within its core.

  "IT," the Great One said, somehow sounding sarcastic. I AM ONE OF YOUR GRANDDAUGHTERS, OLD MAN. MANY, MANY TIMES REMOVED, OF COURSE.

  AND, NOW, VERY OLD MYSELF.

  Belisarius wondered how such strange beings could be male or female. He could see no. .

  There came the sense of laughter, from many voices.

  IT IS QUITE OBVIOUS TO US, GRANDFATHER! said the first Great One. TRUE, OUR SENSES OUTNUMBER YOURS, BY A GREAT MARGIN.

  The huge, ancient female kept spinning in place. AIDE MADE HIS CHOICE, AND IT WAS THE RIGHT ONE. HE WILL NOT SIMPLY BE REMEMBERED. FROM THIS MOMENT FORWARD, ALL THE CRYSTALS IN THE UNIVERSE ARE CHANGING. EACH AND EVERY ONE HAS JOINED THE HUMAN CLAN-AND EACH AND EVERY ONE KNOWS AIDE TO BE THE FOUNDER OF THEIR LINE.

  THINK OF HIM, BELISARIUS, AS THEIR ALEXANDER. OR BETTER STILL, THEIR ACHILLES. THE SHORT BUT GLORIOUS LIFE THAT BREATHED LIFE INTO ALL OF THEM.

  BUT ENOUGH! I HAVE A RENDEZVOUS TO KEEP.

  A quick half-spin, and the shining leviathan was speeding off, with most of the others following.

  WOULD YOU CARE TO WATCH? asked one of the remaining Great Ones.

  Yes, Aide replied, before Belisarius could speak. I would.

  They were somewhere else, in an instant. Still hanging in the void, or seeming to, but there was more than just stars and galaxies to see. Below them-in front of them, perhaps-hung a dark, very ugly. .

  Something. A moon?

  It's an asteroid, Aide explained. A pretty big one. Big enough for gravity to have pulled it into a sphere.

  How did we get here so-

  Nothing you are seeing is happening according to the time frame you are accustomed to. It is much faster-or much slower. In a way, it's already happened, in the far future.

  Somewhat plaintively: Time is a lot more slippery than it looks.

  Either they moved forward or Belisarius' eyesight became more acute. He could now see that the asteroid was covered with what looked to be machines of some sort.

  Is that-?

  Yes. The last-the only remaining-fortress of the new gods. Where they retreated, to await what they thought would be their Armageddon. Which, in fact, it is about to become-but not the way they planned.

  Suddenly, the surface of the asteroid erupted. Dazzling beams of light sprang up, intermixed with odd flashes.

  The Great Ones are coming. Those are weapons firing. Don't ask me how they work. I don't know, exactly, and I couldn't explain even if I did. They're very powerful, though. If they still had the resources of a planet to draw on, the Great Ones could do nothing but die here.

  Some of them will probably die anyway.

  Belisarius could feel himself taking a deep breath, even though there seemed to be nothing he could actually breathe.

  You're not really here. You're still sitting on a bench outside the imperial palace in Kausambi, staring at nothing. A familiar tone of humor came: People would think you were crazy-might lock you up-except it'll only last for a split-second. Back there. What we're watching here is actually taking several years to happen.

  Now Belisarius could see the phalanx of the Great Ones approaching. Except, as it neared, he realized it wasn't so much a phalanx as a three-dimensional version of the old Roman maniples. There was fluidity, here.

  Tactics, in fact.

  Several of the Great Ones veered off, then back, racing toward the asteroid. The light beams and flashes concentrated on them. If Belisarius was interpreting what he saw correctly, they were being hit.

  Pretty badly, in fact. But they can absorb a lot of punishment, before-

  Aide seemed to take a deep breath himself. This is dangerous, what they're doing.

  The Great One nearest the asteroid seemed to brush its surface. Scrape along it, rather, for almost a quarter of its diameter. As the Great One passed back into space, a gout of blazing material followed. Molten and half-vaporized weaponry, Belisarius realized.
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  Not to mention quite a few new gods. What's left of them, which isn't much. The emotion behind that thought was more savage than any Belisarius could ever remember, coming from Aide.

  I really hate those creatures.

  Another Great One struck the surface. Then another, and another. With each grazing blow, more and more of the asteroid's surface was being peeled away.

  Another Great One came. A truly huge one. The same ancient female that had spoken to Belisarius. Somehow, he recognized her.

  THAT'S BECAUSE I'M THE PRETTIEST, he heard her mocking voice. USED TO BE, ANYWAY,HALF A MILLION YEARS AGO.

  Belisarius became tense. The ancient one's strike was. .

  No grazing strike, this. A great wound was torn in the asteroid. Belisarius could sense the gargantuan being reeling from the blow itself.

  Herself.

  Not only the blow, but the weapons fire that had been concentrated on her. She was shedding substance, as she moved off. Like a giant golden angel, spilling her shining blood.

  ENOUGH, I THINK, he heard her say. AM I RIGHT?

  The voices of several Great Ones answered.

  YES.

  THAT WHOLE HEMISPHERE IS NOW DEFENSELESS.

  CAN YOU-?

  The tone of voice, answering, seemed a mixture of pain held under control and harsh amusement.

  I'LL MANAGE. IT'LL ONLY TAKE A FEW YEARS, ANYWAY. BUT YOU'LL HAVE TO GUIDE ME, SISTERS AND BROTHERS. I'M BLIND NOW.

  She moved off, very rapidly, until she disappeared. Four of the other Great Ones sped off to join her.

  After what seemed only seconds, Belisarius could see them returning. Just tiny points of light, at first.

  It took-will take-the tenses don't work right-a lot longer than that. A number of years. But not enough for the new gods to rebuild their defenses.

  As the Great Ones neared, Belisarius could see what appeared to be a lattice of light binding the five together.

  Think of it as the others holding her hands. Keeping her straight.

  They were moving very fast. Belisarius could sense it.