Read Online The Web and the Stars by Brian Herbert - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brian Herbert
Ads: Link
test on him to be certain, and it confirmed his parentage, showing the undeniable genetic markers. Francella had paid to keep the report secret, but apparently no amount of money was enough for that. She should have known that nothing was secret from the Doge, especially when it concerned his own son.
Lorenzo had brought the report to her himself, slapping it down in front of her. It had not changed anything. For months the two of them had assumed Anton was their son based upon available information, and now they knew for sure.
The Doge might even know what she was doing at this very moment, wearing a black cape as she hurried through the dark of the night. If so, he wasn’t doing anything to stop her.…
The guard pointed down a rock corridor, and allowed Francella to walk through it by herself. As instructed, she halted at the end, and peered through the soft orange glow of the electronic containment field of a cell.
Anton sat in orange illumination, on the edge of his bunk. His blond hair was combed straight back, and he had a bound copy of the quasi-religious Scienscroll open on his lap. Looking up at her, he quoted from one of the verses: ‘“The night washes men’s souls; it is the time of true honesty.’”
She considered the passage, recalling a bygone time when her late mother had read such verses to her and Noah in their childhood, while they sat at her feet. The words sounded familiar.
“I know who you are,” Anton said, “and I have no more feelings for you than you have ever shown for me.”
During the past two decades, Francella’s aides had sent regular support payments for her son, though she had tried to remain detached from him emotionally. But seeing him at the pod station, something had changed, making her want to see him and speak with him.
“I don’t blame you for saying that,” she responded. Then, unable to deal with her own emotions, she whirled and left.
Chapter Thirteen
It is the Second Law of Thermodynamics. All things move from structure to waste, from useful energy to energy that is no longer available. Timeweb, the infrastructure of the galaxy, is no exception. It has fallen prey to the dark, degenerative forces of Entropy.
—Report to the Tulyan Council of Elders
Tulyan Starcloud …
Having been ordered to perform timeseeing duties for the Parviis, Eshaz had been conducting sessions in an anteroom of the Council Chamber. Each of these comparatively small enclosures was different from the others, and—if any Tulyan desired more privacy—each anteroom was capable of floating freely in the sky around the inverted dome of the central chamber. At a thought-command, Eshaz could engage or disengage from the dome. In a very real sense this was more a perceived sense of privacy, and an ephemeral one, since at a touch Tulyans could read the thoughts of each other, or of other races. But the private anterooms permitted some Tulyans more mental latitude in their creative and paranormal thinking abilities, a temporary respite from the constant mental linkages around them.
Thus far, over a period of days, Eshaz had been unable to timesee anything, and Woldn had grown increasingly upset. It had been Eshaz’s intention from the beginning not to report anything to the Parviis, but he had honestly attempted to timesee anyway, to no avail. He heard the buzzing discontent in the background as he tried to focus, and knew in his heart this would be another failed day.
The sound grew louder. Opening his eyes, Eshaz saw Woldn and his band of tiny, flying Humans hovering in front of him, their buzzing sounds coming through some internal vibration of their bodies, since they had no wings. “We’ve had enough of this!” Woldn said. “You’re faking!”
Eshaz withheld his comments, and his energy. Calmly, he sent a thought-command, and the anteroom floated back into its connecting port on the topside of the Council Chamber. “We shall discuss this with the Elders,” he said.
“Oh,
Lorenzo had brought the report to her himself, slapping it down in front of her. It had not changed anything. For months the two of them had assumed Anton was their son based upon available information, and now they knew for sure.
The Doge might even know what she was doing at this very moment, wearing a black cape as she hurried through the dark of the night. If so, he wasn’t doing anything to stop her.…
The guard pointed down a rock corridor, and allowed Francella to walk through it by herself. As instructed, she halted at the end, and peered through the soft orange glow of the electronic containment field of a cell.
Anton sat in orange illumination, on the edge of his bunk. His blond hair was combed straight back, and he had a bound copy of the quasi-religious Scienscroll open on his lap. Looking up at her, he quoted from one of the verses: ‘“The night washes men’s souls; it is the time of true honesty.’”
She considered the passage, recalling a bygone time when her late mother had read such verses to her and Noah in their childhood, while they sat at her feet. The words sounded familiar.
“I know who you are,” Anton said, “and I have no more feelings for you than you have ever shown for me.”
During the past two decades, Francella’s aides had sent regular support payments for her son, though she had tried to remain detached from him emotionally. But seeing him at the pod station, something had changed, making her want to see him and speak with him.
“I don’t blame you for saying that,” she responded. Then, unable to deal with her own emotions, she whirled and left.
Chapter Thirteen
It is the Second Law of Thermodynamics. All things move from structure to waste, from useful energy to energy that is no longer available. Timeweb, the infrastructure of the galaxy, is no exception. It has fallen prey to the dark, degenerative forces of Entropy.
—Report to the Tulyan Council of Elders
Tulyan Starcloud …
Having been ordered to perform timeseeing duties for the Parviis, Eshaz had been conducting sessions in an anteroom of the Council Chamber. Each of these comparatively small enclosures was different from the others, and—if any Tulyan desired more privacy—each anteroom was capable of floating freely in the sky around the inverted dome of the central chamber. At a thought-command, Eshaz could engage or disengage from the dome. In a very real sense this was more a perceived sense of privacy, and an ephemeral one, since at a touch Tulyans could read the thoughts of each other, or of other races. But the private anterooms permitted some Tulyans more mental latitude in their creative and paranormal thinking abilities, a temporary respite from the constant mental linkages around them.
Thus far, over a period of days, Eshaz had been unable to timesee anything, and Woldn had grown increasingly upset. It had been Eshaz’s intention from the beginning not to report anything to the Parviis, but he had honestly attempted to timesee anyway, to no avail. He heard the buzzing discontent in the background as he tried to focus, and knew in his heart this would be another failed day.
The sound grew louder. Opening his eyes, Eshaz saw Woldn and his band of tiny, flying Humans hovering in front of him, their buzzing sounds coming through some internal vibration of their bodies, since they had no wings. “We’ve had enough of this!” Woldn said. “You’re faking!”
Eshaz withheld his comments, and his energy. Calmly, he sent a thought-command, and the anteroom floated back into its connecting port on the topside of the Council Chamber. “We shall discuss this with the Elders,” he said.
“Oh,
Similar Books
