Renn - part 3
"My Lord? My Lord?" The words took on a slight edge that snapped Renn back to the present. He'd been drifting again, his mind wandering through sequences of Trigon moves and stone formations.
The drugs didn't help. He'd finally had no choice but to allow the doctor to administer them in order to slow the sudden acceleration of neural degeneration. His right arm lay inert on the arm of his chair, the new prosthetic exoskeleton concealed by a loose sleeve and heavy gauntlet.
A man shouldn't have to die like this, Renn thought bitterly. Sloughing off his dignity in bits and pieces.
"My Lord?"
"Yes?" he said thickly. "I apologize, Director. I was contemplating other matters."
Phoenix Intelligence Director Gornon Zigurdan simpered. "No need to apologize to me, Great Lord."
He was a hunchbacked dwarf, of deformed body but exceedingly acute intellect, the chief of Phoenix Intelligence for over seven years. Renn had been impressed enough with the results to retain the fellow in that position even though he knew Zigurdan sympathized with Malderi's radical faction. Renn had him carefully watched, but thus far nothing had come to light sufficient to outweigh the man's usefulness.
"Where were we?" Renn asked.
"I had just finished summarizing the latest reports of the Eagle-Wolf conflict."
"Yes, very well. I remember." Renn shook his head. "Amazing. Fury attacks the Great Eagle after all?"
"And making no secret about her intent, my Lord."
"That will be a bloody confrontation indeed."
"It has been long in the brewing, my Lord."
Renn sighed heavily. "Ever since Hepta Ourubis Two, I'm afraid." Hepta Ourubis Two, the last of the great ecocidal conflicts. An entire Starwolf pack had perished, along with many, many Blood Eagle. The woman calling herself Fury began her ascension to leadership from the wreckage of that debacle.
Another mystery, he thought. I have enough mystery in my hands at the moment. He pushed away thoughts of the Trigon board and his invisible opponent.
"Well, let the Blood Eagle destroy themselves, if that is all they can do." Better than destroying the rest of us, he supposed. "What is the next item, Director?"
"You asked me to monitor the Firetruce for any unusual occurrences. I have succeeded in penetrating niwa'aban files regarding a certain matter my street informants brought to my attention. The day before yesterday, three Grievers were murdered."
"What is unusual about that?" Renn's attention began to waver, drawn this time by the leaden weight of his right side. He forced himself to focus on Zigurdan. He had no time to spare for self-pity.
"Great Lord, the manner of the Grievers' deaths and an unusual secrecy on the niwobs' part - they had sealed the files, you see - causes me to believe there is more to this incident than first meets the eye."
He had piqued Renn's interest now. With his left hand, he gestured for the spymaster to continue.
Zigurdan cleared his throat. "The autopsies suggest a highly-trained killer, probably elite-grade, probably artificially enhanced. I remind you of the Komarosu assassination back in 3831, as well as the convenient death of the Unitech consul in 3927. Do you recall the circumstances, Great Lord?"
"The killers penetrated seemingly invincible security. They were never caught. In each case, the deaths came at key points in wilderzone politics. The Blood Eagle disintegrated into a war of succession and Unitech changed to a more open policy with its trading fleet." Renn paused to ride out a surge of pain. When it had passed, he continued. "I seem to recall you mentioning a series of such deaths over the years."
"Over the centuries, Great Lord."
"You suggest a single institution is responsible?"
Zigurdan spread his hands. "I have no evidence of that specific conclusion, my Lord, but these deaths paint a picture of a highly-trained assassination network. A shadowy one, to be sure, but the circumstances between the incidents are too similar for me to ignore." He placed a finger alongside his nose and smiled. "Six weeks ago, the leader of an independent tribe on the Imperial border was found dead in his apartments, apparently of natural causes."
"What suggests otherwise?"
"Only the timing. He was scheduled to be the Speaker of the Firetruce."
Renn filed that away under the mystery of Shana Dawn Terayl. Shana "Dawn Fury" Terayl, that is. Zigurdan had been chagrined to discover his files contained an error in something so basic as her warnom. It showed how little they knew of these smaller independent tribes.
"There was another interesting facet to these reports, my Lord." Zigurdan smiled broadly. "They contained several mentions of 'ghosts.'"
"Pure Facet ceremonial language, perhaps."
Zigurdan raised his hand in denial. "I think not. The context of the writing seemed to indicate this was the conclusion the Sworders reached regarding the agents of the Grievers' destruction."
"That Ghosts killed these Grievers?"
"Precisely."
Renn mulled that over. Even for the Diamond Sword, such a conclusion seemed excessively symbolic.
"Could it be a euphemism for unsolved murders?"
Zigurdan shrugged. "The rest of the report adhered to a reasonable level of clarity, my Lord."
"You believe that these 'ghosts' might be connected to a series of unsolved deaths throughout tribal history?"
"At this point, I merely speculate, Great Lord." Zigurdan pronounced 'speculate' very deliberately.
Renn nodded. "I see. Is that all?"
"I fear for your safety here if such 'ghosts' exist, my Lord Gistos. I would urge you to depart to a place of security - if I believed you would attend such advice."
"If these assassins do exist, there is no place I would find safety, Director." Renn shrugged, only his left shoulder moving. "I will stay. Now, tell me about the Terayl girl."
"Ah." Zigurdan stroked his face with a fingertip as he organized his thoughts. Renn was familiar with all of the man's personal quirks. Something about the girl bothered the gnomish spymaster almost as much as the idea of these 'ghosts.'
"What is it, Gornon?" Renn asked softly. The sound of his name stirred Zigurdan out of his reverie.
"My Lord," he began. "The girl comes from Phoenix blood."
"Yes, I knew that."
"Did you know she is distantly related to Alvarada Mari Menai yl-Harabec, the Firespear herself?"
Renn pricked up his ears at that news. The Firespear was one of the greatest warriors of the tribe, and as Phoenix Prime she had dominated the last Firetruce in 3891.
"This is not common knowledge!" he said. "How is it possible to miss this?"
Zigurdan frowned and tapped his nose. "The connection was… subtle, my Lord. I believe we did not investigate her background as carefully as we might have…."
"Had she been a member of a greater tribe than an obscure independent cult, "Renn finished for him. "Can you tell me why the Diamond Sword chose her?"
The spymaster stiffened at the rebuke and clasped his hands behind his back. "She is charismatic, my Lord. She makes friends easily. She carries something of sternness about her, yet something of innocence as well. Already she has become quite popular among the independents, with some rare exceptions such as the Gorgon Killers."
"She provides a rallying point for the independents. I suspected as much."
"Yes. Also, her tribe has embarked on an aggressive venture of late and is considered a rising influence among the smaller tribes."
"I see." Charismatic, earnest, laurelled with success, she would be a popular figure, a leader whether she wished or no. Renn wondered how the Diamond Sword intended to control her. His own impressions were that the young woman exhibited a strong sense of independence.
He felt abruptly weary. The latest attack and the subsequent paralysis had taken all his will to weather. Then there were the upcoming interviews with the zone witnesses, who broadcast their stories through the wilderzone and even into the Empire. Renn had always cultivated the media. For him to evade their questions would deprive him of a powerful avenue for reaching the common tribals across the wilderzone.
It would be an ordeal. He needed rest. "That's all, Director Zigurdan. Thank you for your diligence. Update me if you find out more about our new Firespear.
"Or ghosts," he added with a faint smile.
After the spymaster had departed, Renn plodded to the Trigon board and examined the current position of the stones. Ever since he had taken the position of the Green player, he had been playing against unseen opponents. New stones would appear shortly after he made his own move, developing a convoluted maze of red, white, and green stones on the grid. He remained convinced this game had a point, a riddle for him to unravel if he was able to retain his faculties. The position of his jozoku was strong, but remained vulnerable to a concerted attack from the other two opponents. As ever, the empty spaces - called "ghost spaces" - Renn realized with shock - played a significant role in controlling the flow of play.
Ghosts. He felt suddenly sure that Zigurdan's speculations were fact. The Tribes of Man had been played like pawns over the centuries. Who could engage in such cold-blooded manipulation for so unthinkably long?
After considering the board for a long interval, he placed another green stone with a hand that trembled no matter how hard he concentrated, not from fear, but from anger.
I will beat them, he promised himself. Somehow I will beat them.[1]
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