Barrington Bayley SF Gateway Omnibus: The Soul of the Robot, The Knights of the Limits, The Fall of Chronopolis

‘Time-blocks cannot be kept in continuous operation without years of preparation, Your Majesty. And I am advised that the rearward Stop Barrier already consumes one-third of the imperial budget. Our only safeguard is to overwhelm the Hegemony without delay. Otherwise I can foresee disaster.’

The emperor grunted contemptuously. ‘Don’t tell me you’re another who thinks the empire can fall.’

‘Naturally not, Your Majesty,’ replied Haight, taken aback by the suggestion. ‘But serious damage can be wrought from which it would take centuries to recover. More to the point, the Hegemonics must know of the armada we have in preparation. It will form a prime target for their attentions. They will certainly try to destroy it before it is completed.’

This time it was the emperor’s turn to be startled. ‘They could penetrate even this far – to Node One?’

‘Even that cannot be discounted, though it’s unlikely in my view. They will try to attack it indirectly by wreaking such changes in our future that the effects will reach far back in time, delaying or preventing the construction of the armada in the first place. It could be done if their knowledge of Chronotic history is detailed enough.’

‘And it probably is,’ Philipium confirmed in a worried tone. ‘I have heard there has been some intercourse between agents of the Hegemony and a dissident religious sect known as the Traumatics.’ He shook his head in exasperation. His right hand began to tremble more noticeably.

‘The assembling of the armada simply cannot be hastened,’ he informed Haight. ‘The project is already at full stretch; there are no more resources that can be put into it.’

‘Your Majesty, if we leave matters as they stand at the moment, there is no saying how things will end.’

‘You speak as though you were one of my ministers, instead of merely a commander in the Time Service,’ Philipium said with a warning note of reproof.

‘I beg Your Majesty’s pardon. It is my concern over the situation that prompts me to speak so.’

‘Everyone, it seems, has decided to be impudent today. Still, you have seen action at first hand. You know how things look at the frontier. What suggestions have you for strengthening the forward watch? We could,’ he added as an afterthought, ‘release some ships completed for the armada for that purpose.’

‘That would help, Your Majesty, but the first priority must be to gain parity with the enemy over the matter of his new weapon. To that end I advocate a raid into Hegemonic territory with a force strong enough to overcome any local resistance, in an effort to capture a sample distorter.’

‘Do you think that is a feasible operation?’

‘Yes, if we have agents who can find out where a distorter is kept, so as to give us a target point. The Hegemony consists of one node only, which makes the matter simpler.’

The emperor opened a lacquered box and sniffed at a pinch of the reddish powder it contained. He was thoughtful. ‘We do have agents in the Hegemony. Mostly among those whom our early missionaries converted to the true faith. Needless to say they are already at work on the business of the distorter, but messages are slow to reach us due to the inability to transmit through time.’

He inhaled more snuff. ‘You will attend the meeting of the Military Council tonight. We will discuss this.’

‘With great pleasure, Your Majesty.’

In the event Illus Ton Mayar delayed his departure from the palace for an hour or two. Princess Mayora was an insistent host, and despite his gloomy manner, she continued to inveigle him into conversation with the socialites who flitted in and out of the court chamber. He even spoke with Captain Vrin and heard from him a first-hand account of his part in the recent battle for Gerread – an account, he suspected, already polished with much retelling, even thought the battle-damaged timeships had arrived only a little before dawn.

But his nagging desire to return to his underground vaults eventually overcame the pleasure of social life. He was about to tender his farewells to the princess when a liveried servant approached him.

‘His Highness the Prince Vro would speak with you, Archivist, if it is convenient,’ the servant informed him.

Although couched in the politest terms, coming from a prince the message was an order. Puzzled, Mayar followed the servant and shortly came to Vro’s morbid quarters.

The prince leaped up with alacrity when he entered. ‘Ah,’ he greeted, ‘I tried to contact you at the archives, but they said you were here at the palace.’

Mayar glanced surreptitiously around the place, trying not to seem inquisitive. ‘An audience with His Majesty your father,’ he explained diffidently.

‘More mutations, eh?’ Vro gave him a querying, penetrating look.

‘I’m afraid so.’

He relaxed a little. Prince Vro had always struck him as being the most intelligent of the imperial family. The business with the body of Princess Veaa was known to Mayar, of course … but that was entirely a personal affair.