Helix by Eric Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

terrible?”
    The
old man’s eyes time-travelled again, and then looked up and across at Ehrin.
“As if you really think I would risk putting you in danger by telling you,” he
said quietly.
    Ehrin
nodded. He knew Kahran well enough to realise when he had pitched up against
the oldster’s stubbornness. He changed tack. “Before my mother died, she told
me something. She said that he had defied the Church to his cost...” He paused,
then asked, “What did she mean, Kahran?”
    He
should have known better than to think he could prise the truth from the old
man’s lips. Kahran merely turned on him a defiantly benign gaze, and said, “Who
am I to fathom the dying words of an old and confused woman, my boy?”
    Ehrin
smiled to himself, accepting defeat for now, but swearing that he wouldn’t
leave himself in ignorance for long.
    “Another
drink, Kahran? We must discuss the plans for the new liner.”
    Kahran
smiled, and nodded, and was reaching for the decanter when a tap sounded on the
door.
    Ehrin’s
secretary appeared at the far end of the room. “A messenger from the Prelate,
sir. Shall I show him in?”
    Ehrin
was aware of his heartbeat, then told himself that a messenger would be sent
irrespective of whether or not the tender had been won.
    He
ordered the messenger to be sent in, and a second later a young boy, garbed in
the fanciful livery of the Church, slipped into the room and passed Ehrin a
long envelope sealed with the jagged circle sigil of the High Church.
    “Wait
outside. I’ll compose my reply immediately and send it back with you.”
    When
they were alone again, Ehrin looked across at Kahran and raised the envelope.
“What do you think?”
    “I
think we are the best company in Agstarn, and the Church will know this. They
will offer the tender, but with strings attached.”
    “Well,”
Ehrin said, breaking the seal. “We shall see.”
    He
read the short paragraph, etched into the parchment with an exquisite hand,
then looked up at Kahran and read the missive aloud. “After brief deliberation,
the Council of Elders of the Agstarn High Church hereby notifies Ehrin Telsa,
Chairman and Director of the Telsa Dirigible Company, that the tender for the
exploration and surveying of the western plains has been found satisfactory.
Ehrin Telsa will present himself at the Church council chambers, at four o’
clock on the 33rd day of St Jerome’s month, for further instruction.”
    Kahran
smiled. “Even when imparting news that one might find advantageous, the Church
is parsimonious in its praise.”
    “I
will go, Kahran, and learn what crippling provisos the Church requires.”
    The
old man looked at him. “But you will assent to do their work whatever.”
    Ehrin
smiled. “I am a realist,” he said, and then recalled his father’s words, I
have neither the space nor the time to describe here the terrible things K and
I have seen today...
     

2
    The council chambers of the High Church were situated at the very hub of the city, from which
radiated long, wide boulevards like the spokes of a cartwheel. It was, so the
city planners of Agstarn had stated long ago, the microcosmic mirroring of the
word itself: a great disc of land, which was the centre of the grey universe.
More practically, Ehrin thought as he skated along the boulevard, turning his
face away from the bitter southern wind, the positioning of the Church
administration at the very centre of things signified the order of the world
according to ecclesiastical edict: the Church was the fulcrum around which
everything turned, whether it be affairs of the spirit or of the state.
    That
was the reality, and there was no gainsaying the fact. The Church was
all-powerful, with representatives, both overt and covert, in all strata of
society and in every level of business and administration. Such was the power
of Prelate Hykell and his bishops that opposition was a pathetic affair,
restricted to mutterings in closed drawing rooms, and even those