Ben Bova - Orion 2 - Vengeance of Orion.pdf

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Ben Bova
Vengeance of Orion
To the kindly, courteous, cheerful, and always-helpful staff of the West
Hartford Library, with my thanks.
CONTENTS
PART ONE
continued
PART TWO
PART THREE
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
Afterward
The great invasions which destroyed late Bronze Age civilization came from two
directions. From the northwest a variety of tribes, called by the Egyptians
the "sea peoples," began raiding the eastern coasts of the Mediterranean...
[by] 1200 B.C. the Hittite empire was destroyed.... While these invasions from
the northwest swept over Greece, Asia Minor, and the Mediterranean coasts,
other hordes of invaders came from the southeast, from the fringes of the
Arabian desert... The movement began early: the Israelites were already in
Palestine before 1220 B.C
-The Columbia History of the World, 1972
Prologue
I am not superhuman. I do have abilities that are far beyond those of any
normal man's, but I am just as human and mortal as anyone of Earth.
Yet I am a solitary man. My life has been spent alone, my mind clouded with
strange dreams and, when I am awake, half memories of other lives, other
existences that are so fantastic that they can only be the compensations of a
lonely, withdrawn subconscious mind.
As I did almost every day, I took my lunch hour late in the afternoon and made
my way from my office to the same small restaurant in which I always ate.
Alone. I sat at my usual table, toying with my food and thinking about how
much of my life is spent in solitude.
I happened to look up toward the front entrance of the restaurant when she
came in-stunningly beautiful, tall and graceful, hair the color of midnight
and lustrous gray eyes that held all of eternity in them.
"Anya," I breathed to myself, even though I had no idea who she was. Yet
something within me leaped with joy, as if I had known her from ages ago.
She seemed to know me as well. Smiling, she made her way directly to my table.
I got up from my chair, feeling elated and confused at the same time.
"Orion." She extended her hand.
I took it in mine and bent to kiss it. Then I held a chair for her to sit. The
waiter came over and she asked for a glass of red wine. It trundled off to the
bar.
"I feel as if I've known you all my life," I said to her.
"For many lifetimes," she said, her voice soft and melodious as a warm summer
breeze. "Don't you remember?"
I closed my eyes in concentration and a swirl of memories rushed in on me so
rapidly that it took my breath away. I saw a great shining globe of golden
light and the dark brooding figure of a fiercely malevolent man, a forest of
giant trees and a barren windswept desert and a world of unending ice and
snow. And her, this woman, clad in silver armor that gleamed against the dark-
ness of infinity.
"I... remember... death," I heard myself stammer. "The whole world, the entire
universe... all of space-time collapsed in on itself."
She nodded gravely. "And rebounded in a new cycle of expansion. That was
something that neither Ormazd nor Ahriman foresaw. The continuum does not end;
it begins anew."
"Ormazd," I muttered. "Ahriman." The names touched a chord in my mind. I felt
anger welling up inside me, anger tinged with fear and resentment. But I could
not recall who they were and why they stirred such strong emotions within me.
"They are still out there," she said, "still grappling with each other. But
they know, thanks to you, Orion, that the continuum cannot be destroyed so
easily. It perseveres."
"Those other lives I remember-you were in them."
"Yes, as I will be in this one."
"I loved you, then."
Her smile lit the world. "Do you love me now?"
"Yes." And I knew it was so. I meant it with every atom of my being.
"And I love you, too, Orion. I always have and I always will. Through death
and infinity, my darling, I will always love you."
"But I'm leaving soon."
"I know."
Past her shoulder I could see through the restaurant's window the gaudy
crescent of Saturn hanging low on the horizon, the thin line of its rings
slicing through its bulging middle. Closer to the horizon the sky of Titan was
its usual smoggy orange overcast.
The starship was parked in orbit up there, waiting for us to finish our final
preparations and board it.
"We'll be gone for twenty years," I said.
"To the Sirius system. I know."
"It's a long voyage."
"Not as long as some we've already made, Orion," she said, "or others we will
make someday."
"What do you mean?"
"I'll explain it during the voyage." She smiled again. "We'll have plenty of
time to remember everything then."
My heart leaped in my chest. "You're going too?"
"Of course." She laughed. "We've endured the collapse and rebirth of the
universe, Orion. We have shared many lives and many deaths. I'm not going to
be separated from you now."
"But I haven't seen you at any of the crew briefings. You're not on the
list..."
"I am now. We will journey out to the stars together, my beloved. We have a
long and full lifetime ahead of us. And perhaps even more than that."
I leaned across the table and kissed her lips. My loneliness was ended, at
last. I could face anything in the world now. I was ready to challenge the
universe.
BOOK I: TROY
Chapter 1
THE slash of a whip across my bare back brought me to full awareness. "Pull,
you big ox! Stop your daydreaming or you'll think Zeus's thunderbolts are
landing on your shoulders!"
I was sitting on a rough wooden bench along the gunwale of a long, wallowing
boat, a heavy oar in my hands. No, not an oar. A paddle. We were rowing hard,
under a hot high sun. I could see the sweat streaming down the emaciated ribs
and spine of the man in front of me. There were welts across his nut-brown
skin.
"Pull!" the man with the whip roared. "Stay with the beat."
I wore nothing but a stained leather loincloth. Sweat stung my eyes. My back
and arms ached. My hands were callused and dirty.
The boat was like a Hawaiian war canoe. The prow rose high into a grotesquely
carved figurehead; some fierce demonic spirit, I guessed, to protect the boat
and its crew. I glanced swiftly around as I dug my paddle into the heaving
dark sea and counted forty rowers. Amidships there were bales of goods,
tethered sheep and pigs that squealed with every roll of the deck.
The sun blazed overhead. The wind was fitful and light. The boat's only sail
was furled against its mast. I could smell the stench of the animals'
droppings. Toward the stern a brawny bald man was beating a single large
mallet on a well-worn drum, as steady as a metronome. We drove our paddles
into the water in time with his beat-or took a sting from the rowing master's
whip.
Other men were gathered down by the stern, standing, shading their eyes with
one hand and pointing with the other as they spoke with one another. They wore
clean knee-length linen tunics and cloaks of red or blue that went down to
midcalf. Small daggers at their belts, more for ornamentation than combat, I

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