Admiral Nyntoch scowled at Lylanna. "That insolent whelp is your choice, not mine. Mark me, a hot-headed young officer like that will only cause trouble. And you've given him a promotion and near unlimited power in his investigation." He shook his head. "This thing should be handled quietly, from within. That young fool is like to attend to the matter with all the delicacy and finesse of a bull in a china shop."
Lylanna was silent for a moment, staring out the window at the glittering stars. She knew they were only illusion—she had commissioned its construction from the war mages in the High Keep—but she found its twinkling expanse peaceful. "We are in a bad position, Nyntoch. Perhaps he is not the best man for the job, but he is the best we had available. I think we made the right choice."
"He's an impetuous fool who has no respect for his seniors."
"The young man has... candor," she said at last. "I like that. It will serve him well, I think."
"Uh... you're certain you wouldn't like to see your quarters first, sir?"
Reanyn spared the corporal an irritated glance. "Why should I give a tinker's damn what my quarters look like? It has a bed, hasn't it? A privy? A dresser, sink, and mirror? Then it will serve. Apparently I've been thrown into a political viper's nest, and the sooner I can find my way out of it and see the back of this place, the better. I'm a soldier, not a politician."
"As the poet would say, sir, `War is a difficult Art to master; Politics is impossible.'"
"The poet?"
"Er... Skyflower, sir. Lamruil Skyflower. You haven't heard of him?"
Reanyn shook his head. "I confess I have little use for poets."
"Battlepoet, actually. Served under Admiral Fyarllen in the Twenty-Seventh Fleet for several tours and was decorated. Though I hear he's left the Fleet for early retirement. Planning some epic ballad or something."
Reanyn only grunted. He had served with battlepoets many times before. In his experience, most were good men, reliable and good for shipboard morale. But in the heat of battle, Reanyn put little stock in poetry.
"Interesting as that is, corporal," said Reanyn, "I'm more interested in seeing this Commandant Geyrrin you mentioned, and after that this Astrolabe of yours."
"Very well, sir," said the corporal. "It won't take long to see the Commandant; his office is housed in this very building, two floors up. The Astrolabe, though, might be more difficult. For at least the past two weeks it has been under heavy guard; no-one without clearance goes in or out. The story is that it's under repairs, but I haven't seen any workmen entering or leaving it. Just a very few high-ranking officers."
"Let me worry about that. Just get me to this Geyrrin. You're certain he is the man in charge of any and all criminal investigations aboard this station?"
The corporal nodded. "Absolutely, sir. He heads the Board of Criminal Inquiry. Which is to say he is in charge of about four men who look into criminal matters. We don't have much crime here, sir. Mostly it's just good loyal elven troops that pass through here, but with a station as large as Lionheart—nearly the size of a small city—things happen. A fight breaks out between rival units, for example, or someone's moneypurse turns up missing. Very rarely we get a deserter from the war who tries to hideout on station rather than be shipped to the front. Those are the sort of things that Geyrrin handles."
"Commandant Geyrrin?" Reanyn didn't know what he had expected, but the elf sitting at the table before him was not it. He was a high elf a little older than Reanyn, with long golden hair flowing down past his shoulders and a handsome, chiseled face. He was in uniform, but just barely. His coat was completely unbuttoned and hanging open, the elf's muscular bare chest displayed beneath, and his boots were propped up on his desk. His fingers were laced behind his head and he was laying well back in his chair, his eyes closed. He had not so much as stirred when Reanyn had entered the already-open door to his office.
"That's me," the elf said, not changing position. "Whatever it is, just leave it on the desk and go. I'm thinking."
Reanyn exchanged glances with the corporal. "I'm not here to deliver anything, commandant. I'm here to investigate the death of Colonel Alynium."
The eyelids snapped open at that, revealing startling green eyes. "Oh," he said, looking Reanyn up and down like a cat. "So you're the one they sent."
"Apparently."
The commandant shrugged. "Don't know what's so bloody complex about it. A scro saboteur tangled with him; the colonel got the worst of the exchange. A no-brainer, with plenty of corroborating evidence including a witness. But the higher-ups want to treat it hush hush, bring in some `outside expert'. That would be you, I assume."
Reanyn nodded. "High Captain Reanyn Al'Nuoth."
The high elf pursed his lips. "So what do you want from me, high captain?"
"Whatever you've got. I want to see the bodies of Colonel Alynium and the `scro saboteur', as well as any notes you might have made about the positions the bodies were found in and the state of the crime scene. I want your thoughts on why the colonel was killed. I want everything you've got."
The high elf nodded towards a sheaf of file folders atop the desk. "There's my notes on the case—I handled it personally, of course. Had to. Too high profile to let an underling do it. But simple, as I think you'll see. As for the bodies, there aren't any. Colonel Alynium's corpse was given to the Void a week ago. Full ceremony. You can't have an officer in high standing die and delay the funeral. There are protocols that must be met. And as for the infiltrator, well we haven't found him yet, though we're working on it around the clock."
Reanyn was silent for a moment. "And the crime scene?"
"Been cleaned. You'll find my notes on the original scene in there with the rest, but the Astrolabe is an important instrument. The admirals have to use it. So the scene was cleaned."
Reanyn absorbed this. "So you're saying that all I have to go on is this," he said at last, tapping the sheaf of folders.
The high elf shrugged. "It's enough. More than enough. The evidence is overwhelming. And like I said, there's a witness."
Reanyn lifted the topmost folder, flipped it open, scanned the page within. "You're penmanship leaves something to be desired," he said.
The high elf shrugged. "Never claimed to be a scribe."
Reanyn closed the folder. "I'm coming into this investigation seventeen days behind, with no training in this kind of work. I don't know what they expect me to do."
The commandant gave a slight smile. "Neither do I. Politics is a strange game. The rules aren't bounded by common sense." He leaned back in his chair again, steepling his fingers behind his head and letting his eyes shut. "Anyway, it's your problem now, not mine. Let me know how it comes out. And if you need anything just say so."
"Who's your third?"
The commandant's eyes flickered open again. "My what?"
"Your third-in command—the third man under you."
The commandant's eyes were suddenly wary. "Technically that would be Lieutenant Trielle. Why?"
"Where is he?"
"She. Trielle is a woman; a silver elf from Realmspace. And she's off duty, probably sleeping. If you want I can fetch Lieutenant Wa'ansu; he's my second. Or I could help--"
Reanyn shook his head. "I don't want you or your second, commandant. I want your third."
The high elf looked amused. "I can have her summoned. But why my third? What can she do that I cannot?"
"She can free you from the menial task of walking me through the investigation," said Reanyn evenly and doing his best to refrain from snapping at the other man. Technically the commandant was a superior officer, though Admiral Lylanna had given him overreaching power in matters pertaining to the investigation. "I assume she'll be aware of the details?"
The commandant nodded. "Trielle was present at the original crime scene and helped in every facet of the investigation."
"Then there is little reason to distract you from the duties of your office, commandant. You have said this death had a simple explanation, and I am certain your notes"—Reanyn tapped the files—"will bear this out. I will commandeer your third to aide me."
A slight smile touched the commandant's lips. He inclined his head ever so slightly. "As you wish, high captain."
Lieutenant Trielle was a tall middle-aged woman with a well-toned physique and a stern and unforgiving face. At the moment she was wearing a hastily thrown-on tunic and dark circles under her eyes, and appeared tired and irritated.
"High Captain Al'Nuoth? Lieutenant Trielle, reporting for duty."
Reanyn looked her up and down. "I'm sorry for disturbing your off duty hours, lieutenant. I hope I didn't wake you. Do you have a first name, lieutenant, or should I just call you Trielle."
"I have a first name," she said sourly, "and yes, I would prefer you call me Trielle, sir. And yes, you did wake me. Sir."
Reanyn had to fight a smile. The woman had spirit, at least. "Very good, Trielle it is. And thank you for being candid, lieutenant. We'll be working together for a time, and I don't want you holding anything back when you speak to me."
The woman didn't even bat an eyelash. "Permission to speak freely?"
"Granted."
"Why am I here, sir? Why me?"
Reanyn shook his head. "Exactly the same questions I've been asking myself. Maybe you can illuminate me. Start by telling me what you think my reasons for summoning you might have been."
She was silent for a moment, her eyes weighing him. He had told her to speak candidly, but she was uncertain how far she could go. At last she spoke. "Well, sir, no offense, but to my eyes I've been roused from the warmth of my bed to play nursemaid and secretary to an off-station whelp who's been given a rank he hasn't earned and set to a task he isn't trained for. You're probably the type that doesn't like to get his hands dirty with real work, just a dandy toy soldier that looks good in a uniform. You aren't too keen on bullying the commandant into doing your work for you since he outranks you, so you send for me to come and hold your hand and walk you through the case."
There was a beat of silence, and suddenly Reanyn smiled. "Partially true, at least, and I appreciate your honesty, so I'll return it in kind. The reason I sent for you, lieutenant, is because I thought it unlikely you would be anyone important. You follow?"
She was quiet, but her eyes were not friendly. "I don't think I do."
"Consider the situation from my standpoint. I arrive on Lionheart half-expecting to be court-martialed. Instead I'm promoted and handed an investigation already seventeen standard days old when I arrived. There is no body to be examined, no crime scene for me to look at, virtually no physical evidence of any kind. I'm given a task for which I have no training and a deadline on which to meet it. And the only facts I am given regarding the case are from the investigating officer, who is a high ranking official on station and who pushes the opinion on me that the crime was simple and straightforward. Of course due to the politics involved, he cannot prosecute the investigation himself, but I am supposed to do it for him. Now, what do you suppose I make of all this, lieutenant?"
She had been staring at him in a considering way. She seemed less hostile and more puzzled now. She hazarded a guess. "I don't know sir. Confusion?"
He shook his head. "On the contrary, it all points to one specific question. What is it they don't want me to know? That is the question, lieutenant, you are going to help me to answer. Why did I choose you? You are familiar with the case, yet not high enough in the pecking order to be part of any conspiracy or to be likely to be embroiled in the politics of this place. You have some training in investigative techniques. You are likely to know this station. And you were off-duty and asleep when I came aboard, which meant it was likely you would be irritable and tired when you met with me."
"I don't get the last reason," she said.
He shrugged. "More likely to be honest, if a bit disagreeable. Come along, lieutenant, we have work to do."
"Where are we going?"
"To the Astrolabe."
The Tower of the Astrolabe was a slender little tower with a circular base that tapered as it extended upwards. Balanced at the top was the Astrolabe itself—a gigantic fifty-foot wide spherical crystal which gleamed softly in the reflected light of the distant fireworld. The Astrolabe overlapped the much more slender base of the tower, looking a little like a marble balanced atop a pen.
The Council of Admirals was on the far side of the station; from the base of the Council Tower one could not even see the Astrolabe, as it was completely hidden by the gleaming white Tower of the High Admiral. Consequently, it was a fairly long walk.
The corporal led the way, a few steps ahead of Reanyn and Lieutenant Trielle; this was as Reanyn had ordered. While they walked, he had asked Trielle to fill him in on Colonel Alynium and his death. There was a sudden low whine from overhead; Reanyn glanced up and saw a precise triangular configuration of one-man flitters in formation skimming low over the station; a patrol on a standard defensive sweep. In an instant they were past.
"What exactly do you want to know?" Trielle asked.
"Everything you can tell me," he said.
She sighed resignedly. "I don't know what I can tell you that isn't written in those folders your carrying. Just read them; they probably contain more than I'm aware of on the case anyway."
"They don't tell me anything about who Colonel Alynium was, for a start," said Reanyn, "and in any case I have little desire to fight my way through Commandant Geyrrin's cramped shorthand. I'll let you do it for me."
She gave him a sour look. "Anything else you want me to do for you? Maybe fetch you some tea and scratch your back?"
He considered. "Actually," he said at last. "I don't know why I'm carrying these folders at all. Here." He pushed them at her.
She took them, but gave him a cutting look. "Colonel Alynium was on the War Council," she said. "He helped plan long-range strategy regarding fleet movements, coordinating our intelligence on the scro forces. You want to know more than that about him, then you'll have to ask someone else. I never so much as laid eyes on him before he was dead. Lofty colonels don't mix socially with little lieutenants like me."
"Admiral Lylanna said that the colonel had `many enemies and few friends'," said Reanyn. "What did she mean?"
The lieutenant shrugged. "Am I supposed to read the admiral's mind? I told you; I hardly knew him."
"But you knew of him."
"Well... yes, I suppose. He wasn't very sociable; didn't attend parties or social gatherings, I mean. A few people probably held that against him; it isn't elvish. But Alynium was a soldier through and through. He was a hard-liner; one of the old guard. Fought in the First Unhuman War. He was always pushing for a more aggressive stance regarding the goblinoids. You would think that after the scro attacked, he would have been happy there was a war on, but... Well, he said unpopular things. Like that we could lose the war if we didn't field more troops and better equipment. That there should be more officers promoted from the ranks and less commissions sold to the nobility. He wasn't very well liked."
Reanyn nodded. He understood very well the elven mindset. This Alynium sounded like he'd had a good head on his shoulders. It was a shame he was dead. "Tell me about his murder."
"It happened around 2:30 moonrise local time, seventeen days ago. Local time is measured by the time it takes the station to orbit the planet below us, passing from the light to the dark side and back again; the orbit was set to come close to the standard `day', but it's about forty minutes shorter. I was on duty when the call came in; the commandant was off duty. But he'd only been off duty for a little over an hour, and I sent for him at once. We arrived at the Tower of the Astrolabe at the same time, or nearly."
"Nearly?" asked Reanyn. "Who got there first?"
"Well, he did, but not by much. He hadn't yet gotten past the phalanx of Imperial Guardsmen that were holding the door."
"You said you `got the call'. What does that mean?"
"The station has a communications system," she said. "It's provided through the use of some scrying equipment and run by apprentices of the High Keep—that's the magical training center for the Fleet's mages. Each of the Towers and most of the Docks have a communications room with some of the scrying devices inside, so that the towers may communicate with each other. An apprentice came rushing into my office with an urgent message from the Tower of the Astrolabe."
"What did it say?"
"All it said was that Colonel Alynium had been attacked by something in the Astrolabe and was presumed dead. It was a summons to Commandant Geyrrin and his staff to appear soonest. I sent a second message to summon the commandant and then hurried over to the Astrolabe. When I arrived, the commandant was already there, presenting identification to be admitted. Here we are, sir."
They had arrived before the Tower of the Astrolabe. Reanyn halted in the street and gazed upwards at the gigantic spherical crystal. "Pretty," he said. "Is it transparent? It looks like it is, but it's difficult to tell with the background of the Void."
"Actually no," she said. "It always looks clear from the outside, but it's actually opaque. Something to do with the construction. That top part is the instrument itself, the rest of the tower just houses the offices of the cartographers and chart makers of the Fleet."
There were four elven knights at attention before the heavy iron-plated door at the foot of the tower, all suited in golden full plate armor.
"This area is closed to anyone without admiral-level clearance," one of them said as Reanyn approached. None of the knights had moved, and with their helmet visors down he couldn't tell which had spoken.
"I'm High Captain Al'Nuoth," he said, "empowered by Admiral Lylanna to investigate the death of Colonel Alynium."
"Present your papers," was the unimpressed reply.
"Papers?" asked Reanyn, glancing at the lieutenant.
"Your commission, sir," supplied the corporal. "Proof that you are who you say you are, stamped with the admiral's personal seal. I have them here, sir. Picked them up before we left her office."
The corporal hurried forward, shoving a small piece of parchment at one of the knights who lifted it and looked it over.
The knight handed it back. "This covers you," he said. "It doesn't cover them. You can enter; they cannot."
"The corporal can stay and await my return," said Reanyn. "The lieutenant comes with me. She's one of the original investigators of the case."
The knight looked him up and down. "Not while I'm a living breathing officer in the Imperial Elven Fleet, sir. I don't care if she's Corellan come down in the flesh; she doesn't have papers, she doesn't pass. My orders come from the High Admiral himself."
Reanyn was quiet a moment, considering. "Give me the commission," he said at last, turning to the corporal. "I want to see something."
The corporal handed it over and Reanyn scanned through it.
"`Hereby empowered to use any and all means of his discretion within the boundaries of his investigation'," he read aloud, then gave the knight a hard look. "She's one of my `discretions'. She passes if I say she passes. Stand aside."
The knights only took a better grip on their weapons. "No sir," came the terse reply from the leader. "She does not pass. Should you force me to seal it in blood I will not forfeit my honor. I have my orders and I know my duty." He began to draw his sword; an inch of steel was bared.
Reanyn stared at him in amazement. Almost quicker than the eye could follow, he moved. His hand lashed out, and the knight gave a cry of pain as Reanyn seized his wrist and twisted, forcing his sword back into its sheath and forcing the knight off balance. "You would draw steel on a fellow officer so quickly?" he demanded. "Put your sword back in its place, you prideful young idiot, before I break it over your head."
The knight was in pain and twisting in Reanyn's grip, but he glared defiantly back at the high captain. "With due respect sir, I would rather die at the hands of goblinkin than dishonor myself and my family and disobey my orders." His fellows had all drawn their swords. They looked uncertain whether to attack Reanyn at once or hold themselves in check.
Reanyn pulled the knight closer, staring at him coldly. "You will die at the hands of goblinkin, boy, if you insist on thinking with your pride." He had pulled the young elf closer, until he could see the knight's face through the helmet grill.
The young knight's lips were pulled back in a defiant snarl. He was on the verge of ordering his companions to attack; Reanyn could see it in his eyes. But another voice spoke.
"Stand down, Gulain," it said with authority, and Reanyn looked up to see that another officer had appeared.
He was an older fellow, but still handsome and lively. He was somber at the moment, but a hint of humor glinted in his brown eyes. Reanyn released his hold on the knight, who stumbled back a half pace, gripping his injured wrist.
"My orders are explicit, major," the knight protested.
"So they are," said the older man, "and they include obeying me. If the high captain wishes his lieutenant to accompany him, I can see no harm in it."
"My orders--"
"I am amending them, Gulain. You will allow the lieutenant to pass."
His name was Major Taisro, and as Reanyn had suspected, he was a practical man with a good sense of humor. He possessed a ready smile and a quick wit, not surprising as he had served as a battlepoet in his youth. He was also the chief cartographer and master of the Astrolabe, and it had been good fortune he had arrived when he had, for he was the only man in the building who had the power to countermand the knight's orders.
He lead Reanyn and the lieutenant through the main offices of the astrolabe, giving brief descriptions of what exactly was done down on these lower levels and who worked here and had access to the tower.
There were no `lifts' in this tower. Instead there was a sweeping marble staircase that circled the inner wall of the tower, passing through level after level as it ascended.
The last of the five `office' levels passed beneath them, and they emerged within the Astrolabe itself.
From inside, the Astrolabe was an impressive sight. The spherical crystal was entirely hollow, and stretched upwards and to their sides in sparkling grandeur. The walls of the crystal were not smooth and curved, but faceted, so that the twinkling light from the stars out in the Void beyond was reflected and reflected again.
Reanyn halted for a moment at the top of the steps, just absorbing the scene. "I thought you said it was opaque from inside," he said.
Trielle shook her head. "It's opaque from the outside," she said. "When it's not in use, it's transparent from the inside. You can see out, but you can't see in... even though from the outside it sort of looks like you can. That's just an illusion."
"She's quite right," said Major Taisro. "The high mages designed the Astrolabe that way. The only way to see within it is to be within it."
The inside of the crystal was completely empty, save for an enormous circular table in the very center of the floor. The table was ten feet in diameter and made entirely of flawless black crystal. The tabletop was at least a foot thick.
Reanyn eyed the table. "So, that's the Astrolabe?"
Taisro chuckled. "In part. In truth, this entire chamber is the Astrolabe."
Reanyn gave him a curious look. "What does it do?"
"Do? Why it is a chart. A map of the cosmos, or at least as much of the cosmos as the Fleet knows of. And, of course, our knowledge is increasing all the time. The admirals and battle strategists and chief supply specialists all use it regularly. It's one of the most important instruments on Lionheart, if not the most important."
"Doesn't look much like any star chart I ever saw before," said Reanyn dubiously.
"It isn't any star chart you've seen before," said Taisro. "It's the starchart. Would you like a demonstration of how it works? Astrolabe, engage."
Reanyn was about to say no, that he wanted to hear Trielle's account of the chamber when she had entered it and discovered Alynium's body, but what happened next was so astounding that he merely closed his mouth and watched.
The lighting within the Astrolabe dimmed just slightly, and with a hum a three-dimensional image came into being over the black table. It was a chaotic image of scintillating colors, interspersed here and there with black spheres, but to Reanyn's trained eyes it was as clear as any chart he had ever seen before: it was a map of the Flow.
"The spheres," he said in partial wonder, recognizing it for what it was. "So many..."
"Yes," said Taisro. "Every sphere that has been mapped by the Imperial Fleet since its inception. Many of the spheres we know little or nothing about; they are beyond the limits of known space. But we know they are there, thanks to scoutships. And we know the Flow-rivers in the phlogiston to take us there, and back again. Astrolabe, Krynnspace—engage."
At once the image changed. One of the black spheres—a smaller one—suddenly enlarged. At the same moment the rainbow ocean faded away. Now the black sphere became transparent. The planets within the sphere became visible, moving in their orbits around the system primary, a fireworld.
"As you see, every sphere that has been mapped can be enlarged to show the motions of the bodies within. Most of the inhabited worlds can be enlarged as well, to show the mappings of the continents, mountains, rivers, political borders... you get the idea. And that isn't all. Astrolabe, Krynnspace, detailed—engage."
At once little brown and blue and red and orange and yellow and green dots appeared in different places within the sphere. Some of the dots were in orbit around planets, some were on them, others were alone in the Void.
"It shows the approximate locations of military bases, fleets, resupply stations, enemy forces, friendly forces, neutral forces, natural phenomenon hazardous or helpful to spelljamming. The blue spots are ships or stations or training centers or fleet locations of the Imperial Fleet. If I commanded it to, the Astrolabe would give a detailed view of our Fleets military movements." Taisro gave Reanyn a sober look. "You see how valuable this instrument would be to the enemies of the Fleet. Should they gain access to the information the Astrolabe has, it could be the undoing of the entire navy. Which is why Colonel Alynium's murder is so important. If he was killed by a scro infiltrator, we need to find the infiltrator fast. We need to know how much of our troop movements the infiltrator has relayed to our enemies. If our secret bases and fleet movements have been compromised... We need to know, or men will die."
"I see," said Reanyn grimly. "Tell me more about the image on the table..." he gestured towards it. "How is it done? Sorcery?"
Taisro nodded. "It is a high powered illusion." He reached out a hand and passed it through the image which hovered over the table. It passed through planetoids and fireworlds as if they were air. "See?"
"One more question before you turn the... it off. You said that all of this place, this entire chamber, was part of the Astrolabe. What did you mean?
Taisro smiled. "Oh, we don't often make use of that function of the place. Only when there's a large meeting in the room. As you can see, the table is only so large. If you were to crowd, oh, fifty people into here, you'd have the ones in back jostling and unable to see the image projected on the table. So, when that situation arises... Astrolabe, enlarge image full room."
In an instant the massive crystal chamber had gone fully dark. The image of the crystal sphere atop the table had expanded... and expanded. Until it filled the whole of the chamber, so that they were now standing within it, fireworlds and waterworlds and airworlds passing through the air above their heads. A moon passed near Reanyn's shoulder; expanded to this dimension he was able to see a miniature blue ship orbiting it.
"Impressive," he said aloud, and it was.
"Astrolabe, disengage," said Taisro.
At once the image of the crystal sphere vanished and the crystal chamber was fully lighted again. Taisro smiled at Reanyn. "Quite a toy, eh?"
"Impressive," repeated Reanyn. "It is voice activated?"
"Yes and no. It is keyed to respond to authorized voices only."
"So I could not engage it?"
Taisro shook his head. "No." Then immediately he reversed himself. "Well, not ordinarily. But within the confines of your investigation, I suppose you would have power to activate it."
"How would it know the difference?" asked Reanyn.
"It is sorcery. Tied into the same mythal magic which runs this whole station. It recognizes proper authority. But I don't see how activating it will aid your investigation."
Reanyn shrugged. "I'm not certain I do either. It was just a question. And now, major, though I appreciate the demonstration, I must turn my attention to my lieutenant."
The major bowed gracefully. "I will be down one level should you require anything further. And of course Ensign Kelvor is within the tower, should you wish to interview him."
"Ensign Kelvor?"
"Yes," said the major, sounding a little surprised that Reanyn hadn't recognized the name, "the man who witnessed the murder."
