War in Heaven by David Zindell Read Free Book Online Page A

speak."
    "Thus does any sane man speak who must accomplish difficult things with limited means."
    "As Lord Pilot of our Order," the Sonderval said with great pride, "it's my charge to encourage my pilots to attempt impossible things beyond what we conceive as our limitations."
    Here he bowed to Danlo, honouring him as an exemplar of the pilots' greatest traditions. Many of the lords suddenly looked his way, and Danlo freely met their eyes even though he hated such public attention.
    "As Lord Pilot of the Order nothing more could be asked of you," Lord Nikolos said to the Sonderval. "But as Lord of the Order, I must constrain the heroics of my pilots, even such a great pilot as yourself."
    This mixture of compliment and veiled criticism momentarily flustered the Sonderval, who sat glaring at Lord Nikolos. Lord Nikolos seized this opportunity to deliver his crowning jewel of logic in avoidance of conflict. "I propose that we send three pilots to Neverness. Three of our finest pilots in our swiftest ships. They will warn the lords of Neverness of Bertram Jaspari's Iviomils and this star-killer that their fleet brings with them. The Old Order has more pilots than we — let the pilots of Neverness fight this war with the Iviomils, if indeed any war is to be fought."
    Lara Jesusa traded a quick look with Alark of Urradeth, and the brilliant Aja turned her dark eyes to meet Danlo's. Already, it seemed, the master pilots had accepted Lord Nikolos' plan and were vying to see who might be selected to journey home to Neverness. The lords, too, could find nothing to argue with. They sat silently in their seats, looking back and forth between Lord Nikolos and the Sonderval. For a moment, it seemed that the lords would make the obvious decision and that war had thus been averted.
    But the universe is a strange place, always alive with irony and cosmic dramas. Sometimes the play of chance and impossible coincidence may persuade us that we are part of a larger game whose purpose is as infinite as it is mysterious. Sometimes, in a moment, a woman may act or a man may speak, and history will be changed for ever. As Lord Nikolos called for a formal vote as to his plan, such a moment came to the Hall of the Lords. The great golden door through which Danlo had passed scarcely an hour earlier swung suddenly open, and three men made their way into the hall. Two of these were novice horologes, young men in tight red robes who had volunteered to guard the hall and act as guides for any ambassador or luminary who had business there. The third was an uncommonly large man dressed all in black. He had a thick black beard and blackish eyes and purple-black skin, and his mood at the moment was pure black because the horologes were harrying him, clutching at his arms and trying to prevent him from entering the hall. "Let go of me, goddammit!" he shouted as he swung his great arms and flung off the two small novices as if they were insects. "Let go — haven't I explained that I've important news for your lords and masters that won't wait? What's wrong with you? I'm no assassin, by God! I'm a pilot!"
    Although a score of lords had risen in alarm, Danlo smiled and his eyes filled with light because he knew this man. He was Pesheval Sarojin Vishnu-Shiva Lai, commonly known as Bardo, a former pilot of the Order and one of Danlo's oldest friends.
    "Please restrain yourselves!" Lord Nikolos commanded in his steely voice. "Please sit down."
    "Yes, sit down before your knees buckle and you fall down," Bardo said as he strode to the black diamond circle at the centre of the hall. "I've much to tell, and you'll need all your courage to hear it."
    "You," Lord Nikolos said pointing at Bardo, "are no longer a pilot of the Order."
    Twelve years before, in the Hall of the Lords on Neverness, Lord Nikolos and many other of the lords (and Danlo) had watched as Bardo had flung his pilot's ring against a granite pillar, shattering it and abjuring his vows as a pilot. And