The Dance of Time

Valentinian grinned, in his savage way. "Way worse," he chimed in, reaching up and running fingers through his coarse black hair. For a moment, a long scar was visible—the scar Sanga had given him in their famous duel. "We'll ask you to remember that, though, when it comes time to figure out our retirement bonus."

Even with an emperor waiting, Belisarius would deal with this first.

"Just tell me what you want. If I can manage it, I will. The two of you long ago stopped being in the category of 'common soldiers.'"

The tall Rajput king standing a few feet away issued a snort. "The truth, that!" He gave the two cataphracts a look that Belisarius couldn't quite interpret. Deep respect was there, obviously, but there was something else. Not derision, exactly, but amusement of some kind.

For the first time that day, Aide's voice had a trace of his usual good humor. I still don't understand how a man as smart as you can be such a dummy about some things.

What do you mean?

You didn't figure out what Agathius was doing, either, until your nose was rubbed in it. I figured it out right away. But I'll remind you that there's an emperor waiting, here—and the Malwa empire is still probably the most powerful empire in the world. Will be for sure, in a few years, once Damodara gets settled in. Best to stay on good terms with him.

That was good advice. Belisarius turned to face Damodara and bowed.

"You asked for me, Your Majesty. How may I be of service?"

A quick smile flashed across Damodara's face. "Well, starting tomorrow, you can be of service by providing all of us with your good sense. We have a complicated peace settlement to make, you know. And we're already arguing over where to hold the conference. Fortunately—so far—it's been mostly an argument over the radio and telegraph."

The Malwa emperor lifted his hand. "But that's for tomorrow. Today, there's a different decision that faces us. Probably a more important one. And it's not a decision I felt anyone but you can make."

Belisarius took a deep breath. "You found Link. And its lair."

"The first, yes. The second—" Damodara shrugged. "'Found' is hardly the word. I already knew where it was. All the members of the dynastic clan—boys, at least—are taken to it at least once. I was there several times."

"Take me there," Belisarius said. Commanded, rather.

* * *

Belisarius could make no sense at all of the machines in the chamber far below the palace. The problem wasn't so much that, in their gleaming blankness, they seemed more like magic artifacts than what he thought of as "machines." It was that he knew he would never understand what they did or how they worked.

I don't understand them either, really. I don't think even the Great Ones do, except in general terms. The new gods developed cybernetics far beyond any other branch of the human race. The Great Ones took a different direction. One that led to we crystals. And while we share some of the characteristics of computers, we are very different in other ways.

How could they bring all this here, through time, when all the Great Ones could do—and that, barely—was send you as a semi-conscious thing? Apologetically, he added: When you first arrived, I mean. You're hardly 'semi-conscious' now.

For one thing, the Great Ones aren't as ruthless. The energy expenditure required to send these machines back through time destroyed the new gods' own planet. Along with most of their people. Sub-species, it would be better to say. There were not many survivors.