“It was only a small number of symbiots, just enough to keep track of you and know whether you fared well or ill,” She whispers back.
“I will choose to believe that. I'd hate to think you were listening in at intimate moments.”
“Eww. Trust me, I'd have blocked those to save my own sanity.”
Achi is standing by the slowly evolving entrance to their home, seeing how Zaleria used the telitorri seeds and replaying her thoughts on how it will look when complete. He is satisfied. It will be a grand home, when it is completed. It'll take a few hundred years to really start looking like it should, perhaps a thousand before its perfect, but they'll have the time once they settle matters on Earth. Time. A luxury when spent with one you love, a luxury he has never known. Something even now he can't really imagine, and scarcely believes. But right now, it is time they move against the shell.
“We need to get going. Let's enjoy tonight; for tomorrow, we head to Earth. Shall we drop you at Luna Base, Mother?”
“That will be fine.”
They enjoy a good meal, living off food supplies sent by the collective to compensate in part for the loss of her home, at least until she can regain her independence on Perxephsis. It is interesting, consisting of vegetables and fruits completely unknown to Achi and Clive—most extremely succulent and flavorful. Sleeping arrangements are very limited. They have a few temporary shelters, little more than hard-sided tents but enough for everyone to have their own. They turn in for the night.
Achi lies awake in his bed for a long while, thinking about all that has transpired over his life. He rarely becomes wistful, but after the last few weeks, he feels the need to stop and take stock. He spent half of his life living in the stone age, and about a third in the bronze age. He still remembers learning how to make iron, and then steel. He thought that was the height of technology. But even then, people died by the tens of thousands from the black death. Medicine was little more than herbalism mixed in with a great deal of mythology and useless superstition. There was Babylon, Egypt, then Rome and China, Angkor Wat, then the remains of the Aztecs. He'd seen many of the great civilizations rise and seen them fall. Each made advances, then forgot much that they'd achieved. It wasn't until about 500 years ago that things really began to change and only in the last hundred years—a mere one percent of his entire life; a tiny sliver of time—that humanity really advanced. First came ships, then trains, followed by cars, planes, jets, and spacecraft. All in the blink of an eye. And now he has made what feels like his first real home on a planet half the galaxy away from Earth, after becoming an illegal, or at best illicit, part of the collective. He doesn't know how he has remained sane.
His door pushes open, and Zaleria walks in. “What's the matter?” he asks.
“I can't sleep. Someone's mind is racing, retracing a long history of pain and suffering, making me relive human evolution with him. But even if he stopped, and fell off into a deepest slumber, I'd only lie awake and think about all that I've lost, and found.”
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you awake. Perhaps we should separate a bit further…”
She sits next to him on the bed. “Or perhaps get a bit closer?”
Suddenly, it feels uncomfortably warm in his tiny little room. He sees her eyes shining in the dark, feels her thoughts, her scheme, and her desires; but beneath it all is an all-encompassing passion—a reflection of what he feels for her. And they both know it to be true.
She bends down and kisses him, making him tingle all over. “You had a thought earlier today that you didn't articulate, but I found it nonetheless. You thought to yourself that your home isn't Perxephsis, per se, but it is wherever I am. The feeling is mutual, which is why I will go with you to Earth, and wheresoever you shall wander, Hunter. We are one. What is it you always say? Love is a verb. Let me show you, and don’t be an ass about it.” He decides to follow her advice, deferring to his elder.
It takes a while, but they eventually enjoy a night of deep, peaceful slumber.
Chapter Nineteen
Earth
Nils Hagen has returned from his six-month sabbatical refreshed and ready to make history. His company is becoming increasingly competitive, having pirated a good number of senior engineers and scientists from the rapidly fading Deneb Info Systems. They are innovating new products and rapidly advancing in the market. He is working on a merger with a former DIS supplier, that should be finalized in a couple months. When it is, the newly christened Ultarion Incorporated will arise as a major market force. Nils is eyeing Elk's Grove, hoping it may come on the market in the not too distant future, as DIS may have to start liquidating capital. That would be sweet.
His phone rings. It is Clive, on a throw away. “We have a problem. We need to meet. Tonight.”
Nils goes to Clive's house with his new 'friend,' Lynn Lao. As usual, he drives into the garage and closes the door behind himself. Clive greets them at the interior door. “It's Cheryn. I can't find her. Looks like she disappeared a few weeks ago—right after the attack on Juruele. Dammit. We didn't take enough precautions.”
Achi closes his eyes and sighs. “It was the shell. Despite our crack down, he would have learned that Zaleria survived from his embedded symbiots and then watched as we ferreted out his mole and eliminated her. He must have also learned of Cheryn. So he took her. I hope she is playing it smart and spilling everything she knows. It already knows more than she does. Crap! Except for your identity and location. We need to leave, now!”
They see blue strobe lights outside; it is too late. Federal agents come crashing through the door, guns drawn. “Nobody move! Hands up! Get on the floor, get on the floor! Down, now!” They comply and are handcuffed. The feds find an ample supply of drugs and guns in boxes in the basement, placed there no doubt by the shell. Nils admits, he couldn't have done a better set-up job himself.
They are sequestered and taken to a federal station. Clive knows what to do, and the feds have no idea he and Zaleria can still communicate. They've already been in contact with the collective, letting them know what is going on. Beltare says to hold on tight, and “don't do anything stupid. We are not without resources.”
Achi waits in a holding cell, stewing. Soon, it's his turn to be questioned. He sizes up the guy on the other side of the table. A typical bureaucrat, eager to crack a big case to make a name for himself and advance his career, and less concerned about justice.
“So, you want to tell me about dealing drugs and guns to local gangbangers?”
“Yes, I've heard of such things. Sounds like it is a real problem, and someone should do something about it.”
“You're a real smart ass, aren't you?”
“Better than being a dumb ass, don't you think?”
“You think you're being funny?”
“Yes, actually.”
“You won't be laughing when you spend the next twenty years behind bars.”
“That depends on what is on cable. You still have cable, right?”
That finally gets to the guy, who jumps out of his chair and grabs him by his shirt front. “What is your game, wise ass? You think this is funny. You are going down, looking at serious time. What are you, the ring leader?” Achi smiles; the trouble with grabbing someone, is it ties up your hands, leaving your victims hands free. And while this agent thought Nils was handcuffed, he'd slipped those simple locks a while back and was waiting for a chance. Nils gives him a sharp blow to the nose, followed by one to the temple, pulling his gun out of his holster as he slumps to the floor. He sits quickly behind the table, waiting for who might come through the door first. On cue, the door opens and Beltare strides into the room, wearing a gray business jacket and a tight, knee length skirt, followed by two very distinguished looking agents. She eyes his handiwork and shakes her head, glaring at him, “You lack patience. Call me Clarice Thomas.”
“What did you do to him?!” The younger agent asks in shock.
“We were exploring the finer points of
shoddy handcuffs and unarmed combat,” Nils says.
“Don't worry,” Clarice interrupts, “He'll be fine in a few minutes. Please relax, Nils. I have everything under control. You are not helping matters.”
“Thank you, Ms. Thomas.” He says as he quickly field strips the pistol and lays the pieces on the table, one at a time as he stands. “I'm sorry I was impetuous. I didn't want to risk my mission for…this,” he says as he nudges the unconscious agent with his toe. “I should have waited, but I didn't know you were inbound.”
“Liar, you let him get to you,” she silently rebukes him. But then says aloud, with a smirk. “I just arrived and didn't anticipate you'd move so quickly. You are usually more patient.”
The more distinguished of the two asks her, “Does this happen often?”
“Thankfully no, but Nils here may need remedial training. Please be assured, I'll take care of that.” She walks over and looks at the agent Nils had just effortlessly dropped. “You've broken his nose and given him a significant temporal contusion. Are you proud of yourself?”
“The contusion will heal, and the nose will add character to a drab face.”
“Humph, you should talk.” She mutters as she takes out a med kit and touches the back of his hand. “You might want to stand over there and not assault him when he comes to. Behave, please.”
“As you say, so shall I do, Ms. Thomas.”
“Ass.”
“I'm sorry. I try to improve every day.”
“Bullshit. Now be quiet and let me commune with this gorilla, so he doesn't try to attack you the moment he comes around.”
“Do me a favor and make sure he isn't cross contaminated…”
“Standard procedure now because of you, so please be quiet.” She glares at him out of the corner of her eyes before closing them to concentrate on what the crude symbiots relay to her through the med kit as his eyes flicker, then open, and grow very wide.
“What the hell are you two on about?” the lesser distinguished agent asks.
“State secrets,” Clarice answers, as she helps the guy sit up. “Stay still a moment, while I make sure your brain isn't damaged. Please hold still,” she says as she gently grasps his nose and pops the cartilage back into rough shape. He groans a bit as she makes the adjustment. “There, that should heal much faster now.”
“What happened?” the agent asks.
“You were played into taking on one of our agents. I'm afraid he took the liberty of trying to free himself instead of letting headquarters take care of things.”
“It won't happen again, Ms. Thomas.”
“You see, he almost sounds contrite. Are you okay?”
“I think so, but I don't know what's going on,” the poor guy says. Nils is actually feeling sorry for him a bit. A very little bit.
“Don't worry, agent, we'll debrief you,” says the more distinguished of the two agents. “Ms. Thomas, we'll have the other two brought out directly. Please make this go away and plug the gaps in your organization. We don't need to be fighting one another. It would be tragic if someone were seriously injured.”
“We will absolutely take care of our security lapses. Come with me, Mr. Hagen.”
Nils follows her out of the room and finds Clive and Lynn there as well. They depart with Clarice, get into a waiting car, and drive south.
“Thank you, Ms. Thomas,” Nils says after a few minutes.
“What the hell were you thinking!!? Were you going to take on an entire station of federal agents!? Then what?”
“Improvise.”
“What the hell kind of plan is that!?” Beltare asks exasperated.
“None at all. That is what improvisation is all about. They didn't expect me to make a break for it and would likely have been ill prepared to contain me. Once free, I could easily disappear and free my comrades at my leisure. Clive would know to wait for rescue, and Zaleria would probably have been waiting outside for me.”
“Indeed, I'd already removed my cuffs and was only waiting for the right moment to make a break for it,” she admits.
Beltare shakes her head, slowly. “Look, we're a team. When you contact us, know that we have your back. We have relationships with almost every major country, just in case.”
“Well, that's nice to know,” Achi mutters.
“The fact the shell doesn't know is because we keep that secret to a very, select, few.”
They grow silent for a while. “Clive, would you say Beltare rocks that power suit?” Achi prompts.
“Yeah. That is a great look for you, Beltare.”
“It would have made my backside look huge, but it looks really good on you,” Zaleria chimes in.
Beltare can't help but laugh. “You three are incorrigible.”
“True,” Achi says, “But we made you laugh, and Traemuña would be the first to lecture us on the importance of…”
“… laughing when the Creator shows you his sense of humor. Yes, I've heard the speech. And thank you for reminding me. I hope you keep your sense of humor when you realize that Ultarion Inc. will have to go on without you.”
“My sense of humor is the only thing keeping me from crying right now. I thought I'd had a path back to regaining ownership of Elk's Grove Estate. Now, it's all gone. All of it. Back to square one.” Achi sighs. “I hate starting over. As I get older, it just gets harder and harder.”
“No shit,” Clive says.
“Then perhaps you should dig deeper,” Beltare suggests. “We're a team now; we don't lack for resources. Have you ever considered marketing luxury goods?” she asks, while wagging her right hand in the air. Upon which is a gorgeous opal ring on her third finger. “It's very profitable, gives you ample opportunities for world-wide travel, and the opal mines are very remote. However, the locals speak a very strange language.”
Achi looks at Clive, who starts to smile. “That's fair dinkum,” Clive says, in his best Australian accent.
“Strewth,” Achi says.
“Then let us work together and stop trying to ad lib all the time. I don't want to have to keep cleaning up your messes.”
“Yes mum.”
“Ass.”
“I think we're growing on you,” Achi laughs.
“You are, but I'll deny it if you spread it around.”
“Where are we off to now?” Zaleria asks.
“Two weeks on the moon, after which your will land in the remote outback of Australia with new faces, new identities, new lives, but the same mission. Don't screw it up. This takes time and resources.”
Achi grows serious. “The shell grabbed Cheryn.”
Beltare is silent for a while as she ponders the new information. “We'll do what we can, but you know she'll eventually end up as bait in a trap.”
“Of course; I wouldn't expect anything less. We'll have to have a good plan. Which is why I'm letting you know now.”
“He's trying to draw you out.”
“Which is why we have Trègar, and the Irruptors. Have you ever studied human magicians?”
“That's a non-sequitur,” she says as she pulls the reference from the collective. “No, I haven't studied them; why are they relevant?”
Achi laughs. “I am not the only sentient who lacks patience. You should really listen to yourself sometime, I say as a friend who loves you. Human magicians have mastered the art of misdirection. You should watch some of their illusions, learn their art.”
“You confess to love me in front of your presumptive partner?”
Achi feels Zaleria's mischievousness rising to the bait. “She knows my feelings,” Achi says, giving her an opening.
“Strewth,” Zaleria echoes. “He adores you, although he entertains more than a few lustful thoughts about you. He thinks you are very pretty, as are almost all galanen females to this lout, but I'm okay with that; it's just a physical reaction. He does respect you though.”
Beltare is quiet for a few moments, processing what has just been shared. “So I take it your sy
mbiots are synced up again, implying Zaleria, that your essence…”
“…now contains his. Yes. Our vigorous defense of Juruele was made possible because our symbiots reconnected to maximize our chance of survival and to minimize the loss of galanen and the biosphere. The second waverider would probably not have gotten there in time if not for them, and the asteroid would not have been ablated as much.”
Beltare is silent for several minutes. Achi feels a sense of smugness from Zaleria and relief that she shared all that. She didn't have anyone's approval for all that she has done, and she is now daring Beltare to judge her for loving him.
“Do you share feelings for each other beyond shared memories and thoughts?” Is all Beltare asks.
“Yes. We express our love through actions and feel it reflected through our bond,” Zaleria says firmly, but so quietly Beltare has to strain to hear it. “We share our very thoughts, every memory. When you speak to one, you speak to both.”
“Then I wish you happiness. You are both very young to forge such a bond, but I think we've all seen it coming. Although Achi, you have endured more hardships than the most ancient galan, so I'm not sure what to make of that. You two are fated to be unconventional; that much is apparent.”
“I have a sister mother,” Clive comments, causing Beltare to laugh.
“Traemuña is right. You couldn't possibly make this up. What else is there to do but laugh?” Beltare says, appearing to share freely her true feelings for once. “But getting back to your point, Achi, about misdirection. I will reflect on that. See how we can apply it. But first, we'll need to locate Cheryn—if she still survives.”
“The shell would have no reason to be rid of her but would have several incentives to keep her around. I believe she still lives, although I worry about her condition.” Clive shakes his head, also worrying about her. Still upset they didn't do a better job hiding her. No one is laughing now.
∞∞∞
Cheryn contemplates her options. She sits in a small dark room, in some larger complex—she doesn't know where. She's been beaten, drugged, and questioned. But so far, that has been the worst of it. She thinks she bought herself some room telling all that she knew, even though she felt bad doing it. She was banking on the fact Nils really hadn't told her much. The one thing she felt bad about giving up was Clive's location. They had to beat that out of her. She only hoped she held out long enough for them to be elsewhere when it finally came out.
Through the Singularity Page 44
