Read Online Mistress Of The Ages (In Her Name, Book 9) by Michael R. Hicks - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michael R. Hicks
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whispered. “All thought it destroyed at the end of the Final Annihilation.”
“That was as it had to be,” the ghost said. “It was a terrible sacrifice that those who remained here chose to make, even after my own death on the Homeworld. You see, I had sown the seeds of your coming into the bloodlines of our people, but I knew you would need a sanctuary from those who would deny you. But to do what I had planned required vast energies that could only be unleashed by the most terrible weapons of our time. There was no other way.”
“The moon’s destruction,” Keel-Tath said, a chill running through her bones. “You planned it?”
“No, child, we did not plan it. None of those here, my compatriots, wished to die. But by that time in the war, our defeat was an inevitability that we chose to use to our advantage. The full destructive might of the Settlements, more power than you can yet imagine, was focused here. When our defenses collapsed, as we had foreseen, the moon’s surface was destroyed and all who remained here perished. But the energy that swept the surface was only a fraction of what the enemy expended. The rest was harnessed to transform this moon into a great engine that would answer only to you, and to defend itself from all others.”
“An engine? For what purpose?”
“For whatever purpose you desire,” Anuir-Ruhal’te said. Her body was fading now, becoming translucent, and the blanket of stars were going out, as if the universe itself was dying.
Even knowing that her ancient mother was not real, Keel-Tath still reached for her. “No, do not leave me!”
“It is all up to you now, precious daughter.”
Keel-Tath shook her head. “But what must I do?”
There was no answer. Anuir-Ruhal’te was gone.
As she stood there, feeling utterly helpless, the funnel cloud slowed, then stopped. The towering storm of black particles lost their momentum and hung in the sky as if vexed by indecision.
Then the cloud collapsed to the ground around her. But the motes did not simply float back to the ground as if they were dust. They rocketed into the moon’s glassine surface, throwing up geysers of shattered obsidian.
Keel-Tath was thrown to the ground as the moon shook, and she put her hands over her ears as thunder roared through the atmosphere. She was bruised and cut, her body tossed about as the ground shuddered.
The moon’s surface suddenly fell away. Taking her hands from her ears, she dug her talons into the fractured glass of the mound on which she lay that had been at the center of the crater. But the crater itself was gone, as was the rest of the moon. She felt unusually heavy, as if the gravity of the glassine mound had inexplicably increased.
Crawling nearer the edge of the mound, or what was left of it, her eyes widened as she realized the truth: the moon had not fallen away. She was being propelled upward, higher and higher, on a titanic pillar that was being thrust upward by some unimaginable force below the moon’s surface. Looking down and outward, she gasped at what she saw happening below.
The moon was being transformed. A black cloud was again rising, one that obscured the surface to every distant horizon. As the cloud rose higher, the black motes at the very top vanished. Even as they disappeared, the color of the atmosphere deepened and Keel-Tath gradually found it easier to breathe.
The rumbling and shaking stopped as the pillar slowed to a halt. Now it began to shake, leaning to and fro as the ground around it began to break up, shattering into massive chunks that were momentarily buoyed up by a growing sea of dark matter, blacker than the obsidian itself, that welled up from the depths. It took Keel-Tath a moment to realize that the smooth black sea that swelled around the gray chunks of obsidian was made up of more motes.
As she watched, the rocks began to disintegrate. For a league or more around her vantage point, the mote sea consumed everything, until
“That was as it had to be,” the ghost said. “It was a terrible sacrifice that those who remained here chose to make, even after my own death on the Homeworld. You see, I had sown the seeds of your coming into the bloodlines of our people, but I knew you would need a sanctuary from those who would deny you. But to do what I had planned required vast energies that could only be unleashed by the most terrible weapons of our time. There was no other way.”
“The moon’s destruction,” Keel-Tath said, a chill running through her bones. “You planned it?”
“No, child, we did not plan it. None of those here, my compatriots, wished to die. But by that time in the war, our defeat was an inevitability that we chose to use to our advantage. The full destructive might of the Settlements, more power than you can yet imagine, was focused here. When our defenses collapsed, as we had foreseen, the moon’s surface was destroyed and all who remained here perished. But the energy that swept the surface was only a fraction of what the enemy expended. The rest was harnessed to transform this moon into a great engine that would answer only to you, and to defend itself from all others.”
“An engine? For what purpose?”
“For whatever purpose you desire,” Anuir-Ruhal’te said. Her body was fading now, becoming translucent, and the blanket of stars were going out, as if the universe itself was dying.
Even knowing that her ancient mother was not real, Keel-Tath still reached for her. “No, do not leave me!”
“It is all up to you now, precious daughter.”
Keel-Tath shook her head. “But what must I do?”
There was no answer. Anuir-Ruhal’te was gone.
As she stood there, feeling utterly helpless, the funnel cloud slowed, then stopped. The towering storm of black particles lost their momentum and hung in the sky as if vexed by indecision.
Then the cloud collapsed to the ground around her. But the motes did not simply float back to the ground as if they were dust. They rocketed into the moon’s glassine surface, throwing up geysers of shattered obsidian.
Keel-Tath was thrown to the ground as the moon shook, and she put her hands over her ears as thunder roared through the atmosphere. She was bruised and cut, her body tossed about as the ground shuddered.
The moon’s surface suddenly fell away. Taking her hands from her ears, she dug her talons into the fractured glass of the mound on which she lay that had been at the center of the crater. But the crater itself was gone, as was the rest of the moon. She felt unusually heavy, as if the gravity of the glassine mound had inexplicably increased.
Crawling nearer the edge of the mound, or what was left of it, her eyes widened as she realized the truth: the moon had not fallen away. She was being propelled upward, higher and higher, on a titanic pillar that was being thrust upward by some unimaginable force below the moon’s surface. Looking down and outward, she gasped at what she saw happening below.
The moon was being transformed. A black cloud was again rising, one that obscured the surface to every distant horizon. As the cloud rose higher, the black motes at the very top vanished. Even as they disappeared, the color of the atmosphere deepened and Keel-Tath gradually found it easier to breathe.
The rumbling and shaking stopped as the pillar slowed to a halt. Now it began to shake, leaning to and fro as the ground around it began to break up, shattering into massive chunks that were momentarily buoyed up by a growing sea of dark matter, blacker than the obsidian itself, that welled up from the depths. It took Keel-Tath a moment to realize that the smooth black sea that swelled around the gray chunks of obsidian was made up of more motes.
As she watched, the rocks began to disintegrate. For a league or more around her vantage point, the mote sea consumed everything, until
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