05. Twilight at the Well of Souls - The Legacy of Nathan Brazil by Jack L. Chalker Page B
Authors: Jack L. Chalker
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least I have seen no indication of such. Not that it might not happen, but if you are talking about a population of a billion or more, as we surmise, it would be pure chance."
Gunit Sangh seemed pleased at this. "And is your understanding complete enough to allow, say, three hundred Entries to go where they will—and four hundred Entries to arrive there? In close company all the while?"
"Four—" Zilchet seemed confused, slightly hesitant. Then, all at once, he got the idea. "Oh, I see. "He considered it. "Superficially, at any rate. I would prefer not to have them travel as a group. A chance encounter, yes, but not moment-to-moment. No. There are too many tiny details. You could slip so very easily and never know. But we could send three hundred, then another hundred a day or so behind them, following. Conditioning so many would be out of the question, too, but we could condition a few, say six or seven real Entries. They would lead the group and would see nothing awry in our own party. That we could easily manage, and it should work."
"Then we do it that way," the leader ordered. "We need some of our own people on their side. We won't be the only ones, either, of course. The biggest weakness his side has is that it can't possibly know the true nature of everyone in its armies, nor their loyalties. They must know this. But most will be there as spies, nothing more. Ours will have a different task."
"And what is this?" Zilchet was so involved he forgot he wasn't supposed to prompt the leader.
Gunit Sangh gave him an icy stare as a reminder, but otherwise let it go. This was far too important to execute the wretch now. But he would remember the lapse. . . .
"Of all the different Entries, only a few are not of this soldier type. These are his commanders, of course. A number of them. Information from the central command Ortega is establishing tells me, though, that at least one of these has more than utilitarian meaning to Brazil. This is the woman Mavra Chang, now a Dillian. He regards her as something of a sibling with that curious bond lesser races have for such. I want our people there to behave just like good soldiers, to fight in Brazil's forces, take orders, do all that they would be expected to do. But if it looks as if Brazil will attain his goal, if it looks like his side will win, I have a special task for them."
"Holiness?"
"No one can control Brazil directly once he is inside to the Well. But if we hold this Mavra Chang, secretly, outside the Well, while I or one of us enters with him, that is just as good."
"But what if, once inside, he merely wills himself to find her and free her?" Zilchet asked dubiously.
"I seriously doubt whether any mind, even a Markovian, could pick out an individual on the Well World without knowing her location, captors, or status. I think Brazil could easily create a race, but not change a mind unless he knew all the particulars. At any rate, the odds favor our taking this action. We really have nothing to lose."
Zilchet was still worried, and his rippling showed it. Gunit Sangh glared at him. "Well? What is it?"
"I was just wondering how many other races have exactly the same idea," the other responded.
"Probably several," the leader admitted. "She will be a major target, have no doubt—and, because of that, most assuredly well protected. We must see that we are the ones who get her—if the military action fails, of course. If not, it is an academic exercise. But we will not fail. Our ancestors have shown us the true course, and they will not let us fail."
They bowed again in prayer, and, although they wouldn't have realized it, they sounded more than a little like religious fanatics themselves.
Gedemondas
IT QUICKLY GREW NOT ONLY COLD BUT STEEP AS WELL; the blue-white mountains that made such a beautiful and romantic scene from Dillia were, very quickly, a different and alien land. Only a few kilometers in, the trees diminished to practically nothing
Gunit Sangh seemed pleased at this. "And is your understanding complete enough to allow, say, three hundred Entries to go where they will—and four hundred Entries to arrive there? In close company all the while?"
"Four—" Zilchet seemed confused, slightly hesitant. Then, all at once, he got the idea. "Oh, I see. "He considered it. "Superficially, at any rate. I would prefer not to have them travel as a group. A chance encounter, yes, but not moment-to-moment. No. There are too many tiny details. You could slip so very easily and never know. But we could send three hundred, then another hundred a day or so behind them, following. Conditioning so many would be out of the question, too, but we could condition a few, say six or seven real Entries. They would lead the group and would see nothing awry in our own party. That we could easily manage, and it should work."
"Then we do it that way," the leader ordered. "We need some of our own people on their side. We won't be the only ones, either, of course. The biggest weakness his side has is that it can't possibly know the true nature of everyone in its armies, nor their loyalties. They must know this. But most will be there as spies, nothing more. Ours will have a different task."
"And what is this?" Zilchet was so involved he forgot he wasn't supposed to prompt the leader.
Gunit Sangh gave him an icy stare as a reminder, but otherwise let it go. This was far too important to execute the wretch now. But he would remember the lapse. . . .
"Of all the different Entries, only a few are not of this soldier type. These are his commanders, of course. A number of them. Information from the central command Ortega is establishing tells me, though, that at least one of these has more than utilitarian meaning to Brazil. This is the woman Mavra Chang, now a Dillian. He regards her as something of a sibling with that curious bond lesser races have for such. I want our people there to behave just like good soldiers, to fight in Brazil's forces, take orders, do all that they would be expected to do. But if it looks as if Brazil will attain his goal, if it looks like his side will win, I have a special task for them."
"Holiness?"
"No one can control Brazil directly once he is inside to the Well. But if we hold this Mavra Chang, secretly, outside the Well, while I or one of us enters with him, that is just as good."
"But what if, once inside, he merely wills himself to find her and free her?" Zilchet asked dubiously.
"I seriously doubt whether any mind, even a Markovian, could pick out an individual on the Well World without knowing her location, captors, or status. I think Brazil could easily create a race, but not change a mind unless he knew all the particulars. At any rate, the odds favor our taking this action. We really have nothing to lose."
Zilchet was still worried, and his rippling showed it. Gunit Sangh glared at him. "Well? What is it?"
"I was just wondering how many other races have exactly the same idea," the other responded.
"Probably several," the leader admitted. "She will be a major target, have no doubt—and, because of that, most assuredly well protected. We must see that we are the ones who get her—if the military action fails, of course. If not, it is an academic exercise. But we will not fail. Our ancestors have shown us the true course, and they will not let us fail."
They bowed again in prayer, and, although they wouldn't have realized it, they sounded more than a little like religious fanatics themselves.
Gedemondas
IT QUICKLY GREW NOT ONLY COLD BUT STEEP AS WELL; the blue-white mountains that made such a beautiful and romantic scene from Dillia were, very quickly, a different and alien land. Only a few kilometers in, the trees diminished to practically nothing
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