the rear of the room, ‘The wayless dares to tell us of a way!’
And the Lord Phantast, Pedar Sulkin, said, ‘There is a way for man, of course. The Way of Ringess.’
‘A way for woman,’ Kolenya Mor said, eyeing Lord Sulkin with a smile. ‘A way for women and men to become gods. A new way for humankind.’
‘A new way,’ Hanuman said in his golden voice. He spoke with compassion and grace, but with fire, too. He looked to his right and to his left to draw the attention of all the lords in the room. ‘We must remember that the Way of Ringess is new. We must be new. We must be as godlings breaking out of the shells of the old thoughtways that have kept us from our destiny. We must fly on golden wings as we were meant to fly. Which is why we need a new law. The Law of the Civilized Worlds was made for human beings. In truth, it was made precisely to keep human beings human – all too human. And why? Because its makers feared our infinite possibilities. They were cowards but who can blame them? The greater the height, the greater the fall, or so it’s said. But a time comes for any race when it must dare to soar beyond its deepest dreams – either that or become mired in the mudsands of evolutionary failure. This is our time. We must choose the clouds and the Golden Rings of the universe or else the mud. And haven’t we already chosen? Half of the Civilized Worlds have chosen the Way of Ringess. We who wear the gold would never seek to tell the wayless which way they must choose. But neither will we be told what our law must be. A new law – isn’t it time we made a new law for the new beings we are becoming? A law for gods.’ He paused a moment and then said, ‘But I’m only Lord of the Way of Ringess. I would never think to tell the Lords of the Order how they should respond to these ambassadors who demand such a blind adherence to the old laws.’
Now, as he looked at Lord Pall, his eyes flicked to the right and to the left, and then he blinked twice, slowly. And Lord Pall, controlled by these nearly invisible strings of light, said, ‘It would be silly to pretend that the Order isn’t involved in the Way of Ringess. Therefore, I think it appropriate that we of the Order ask Lord Hanuman’s advice.’
Burgos Harsha opened his mouth as if to protest Lord Pall’s suggestion. But before he could speak, quicker than a silver knife flashing in the sun, Hanuman slid his voice into the room.
‘These are dangerous times, and there’s danger in whichever way we choose,’ he said. He bowed his head to Bertram Jaspari and the warrior-poet bound in gleaming filaments of acid wire. And then he bowed to Demothi Bede and finally to Danlo. ‘The representatives of two powers sit before us. The Fellowship demands that we disassemble the greatest of our works and obey their law. The Iviomils demand even more: that they should rule the Civilized Worlds and we become their slaves. You should know, this is what they really desire. But who can become a slave who has almost become a god? For myself, I would choose death rather than submission to another’s power. But even if I were willing to be a slave – even if we all were – there’s no safety in such cravenness. We live in dangerous times – I can’t say that often enough. The gods make war upon each other, and if Danlo wi Soli Ringess can be believed, even Ede the God has been destroyed. And then there are the Iviomils. With their morrashar, the Iviomils destroy the stars. They threaten to destroy our star. Are we to face such power with the weakness of slaves? Or with the glory of gods? This I know; this I’ve seen: it’s only in becoming gods that we shall ever be safe from the gods. And safe from those such as the Iviomils and the warrior-poets who would slay all godlings. It’s a paradox, I know, but the way of the greatest danger is also the safest. We are millions of millions; we are stardust; we are golden – can even the greatest of gods stop us from exploding across the universe?’
Few of the lords sitting at their tables that day had any wish to become anyone’s slave. For three thousand years, the Order had been the greatest power among the Civilized Worlds, and the Lords of the Order had grown as sure of their power as a wealthy man is of a never-ending supply of wine and food. But at this critical moment in history, they feared losing their power – and losing the war that threatened not only their lives but their very world.
‘What shall we do about the Fellowship, then?’ Burgos Harsha asked. ‘And the Iviomils: we can’t simply expect them to be awed by our dreams and go away.’
‘No,’ Hanuman said, ‘that’s true. Which is why we must awe them otherwise.’
‘How, then?’
‘We shall hunt them down as thallows do sleekits. Sivan wi Mawi Sarkissian may be the equal of Salmalin, but he can’t evade the Order’s finest pilots for ever.’
‘But he doesn’t have to evade them for ever. Only long enough to destroy the Star of Neverness.’
‘I’ve considered this danger,’ Hanuman said. He placed his fingertips against his temple, and the neurologics inside the diamond clearface covering his head glowed like a million purple snakes. ‘The chances of Sivan successfully falling out around our star while our lightships guard her approach is zero. Therefore the Iviomils must have a secret strategy – and what is that?’
‘I’m a historian, not a warrior,’ Burgos Harsha said. ‘How should I know their strategy?’
‘I’m no warrior either,’ Hanuman said. This, as Danlo knew, was not really true. Hanuman had studied the killing arts since childhood, and he came to war as easily as a snow leopard comes into his claws. ‘But I am a cetic,’ Hanuman continued. ‘That is, the cetics once graced me with training in their art. It’s as a cetic that I look at Bertram Jaspari now. And what do I see?’
At this, Burgos Harsha and a hundred lords turned to look at Bertram Jaspari, who sat beaming hatred at Hanuman. And then Kolenya Mor said, ‘What do you see, Lord Hanuman?’
‘He is waiting,’ Hanuman said. ‘If the Fellowship’s fleet should attack ours here, in the spaces near the Star of Neverness, the manifold will blaze with lights like fireworks at Year’s End. In this chaos, the tells of a single deep-ship falling out into realspace would be almost impossible to detect.’
As Hanuman revealed Bertram’s secret strategy, Bertram’s face fell mottled into shades of red and cyanine blue. Clearly, he had gambled on cowing the Order into submitting to his demands – otherwise he never would have risked himself in coming to Neverness. But now that it seemed his strategy had failed, he glared at Hanuman in deathly silence.
‘As I’ve said, I’m no warrior,’ Hanuman continued. ‘But surely this suggests our strategy. We must attack the Fellowship’s fleet before they attack us.’
‘And leave Neverness and our star naked to the Iviomils?’ Burgos Harsha asked.
‘Oh, no – of course not,’ Hanuman said. ‘We’ll leave fifty lightships to guard her. And twenty-five more to hunt down the Iviomils. Even thus diminished, our fleet’s ships will still outnumber the Fellowship’s almost two to one.’
‘And what if our fleet doesn’t find the Fellowship’s fleet before they’ve fallen almost all the way to Neverness?’
Hanuman fell silent for a long time as he looked out into the centre of the room where Danlo sat. In the light falling down through the dome, Danlo’s deep blue eyes shimmered like the ocean.
‘There may be a way to descry the Fellowship’s path through the Fallaways,’ Hanuman said. ‘We must ask our scryers if they can see such a path. If so, then we might fall upon the Fellowship’s fleet by surprise and destroy them.’
Now Hanuman faced Lord Pall, and their eyes danced over each other’s body and face. Although
