Path of the Fury
Page 41
She could not reply in kind—she would not! She had said she was more skilled to wound than heal, and it was true, but this time she would heal or perish herself. She refused to strike back. She absorbed the killing blows without riposte, and drove a tortured sliver of her being towards the wound in Alicia’s mind—the bleeding hole to Hell that filled Alicia with madness.
She touched it, only for an instant, and staggered as she was hurled away. Bits and pieces of her own being were ripped from her, added to the holocaust reaching to consume her, and she clawed her way back into its teeth. Somewhere behind it she heard the sobbing of a little girl—a mortal girl alone and terrified in hellspawned darkness—and groped blindly for her hand.
Tannis Gateau sat silent at the com station, face bloodless. Sir Arthur Keita stood beside her, one arm around her shoulders, and a display at Ben Belkassem’s elbow raced downward, counting off the moments left to live.
Ninety seconds. Eighty. Seventy-five. Seventy. Sixty-five. Sixty. Fifty-five. Fifty—
And then the oncoming Fasset drive swung aside, clawing away from its deathride with frantic power, and Ben Belkassem wrenched his own course to the side while Sir Arthur Keita leapt for the com and began bellowing orders for Vice Admiral Horth to cease fire.
Epilogue
The elevator door opened, and Ferhat Ben Belkassem stepped onto the flight deck of the refurbished starship Megarea. Alicia DeVries unfolded herself from the command chair, immaculate as of yore in midnight-blue and silver. Her hair was its natural color once more, spilling over her shoulders in a tide of sunrise, and Ben Belkassem decided it went even better with the uniform than her black hair had. He held out his hand.
“Ferhat.” She took his hand in both of hers, squeezing firmly, and he marveled again at the way her smile got inside a person. The fanaticism and hatred were gone, yet they’d left their mark. There was a new depth in her cool, jade eyes, a softness. Not a weakness, but a new strength, perhaps. The strength of someone who understands how utterly any human, however remarkable, can be reduced.
“Alicia.” He looked around with a smile of his own. “How was the shakedown cruise?”
“Why not ask someone who knows?” a voice said from a speaker, and his smile turned into a grin. “As a matter of fact,” Megarea continued, “it went even better than the original builders’ trials.” The speaker sniffed. “I told them we could increase the drive mass.”
“Must have been a shock for the yard to have the ship talking back.”
“It was good for them,” Megarea insisted.
“Probably.” His eye fell on the chair still sitting beside Alicia’s, and he settled into it with a little sigh. “Never thought I’d sit here again,” he said softly, rubbing the armrests gently.
“You almost didn’t get to,” Alicia agreed. She could talk about it now with only the faintest twinge. She remembered every horrifying moment, yet the memories held no terror. They were only memories—and warnings.
“How’s Tisiphone?” Ben Belkassem asked after a moment, and Alicia smiled wryly, stroking her temple unconsciously.
“Still here—though I’m not too sure Tannis and Uncle Arthur really believe in her even now.”
“Ha! They believe. The Emperor doesn’t hand out citations—not even secret ones—to figments of the imagination. They may not agree on what she is, but they know she’s there.” He cocked his head and eyed her curiously. “Speaking of whom, I sort of had the impression she’d be . . . Well, moving on once the job was over.”
“I’m afraid she can’t ‘move on,’”Alicia said to Ben Belkassem. The inspector raised his eyebrows, and she sighed. “Something happened there at the last. I don’t understand it—I’m not even sure Tisiphone does, really— but we both came so close to, well—“ She paused and cleared her throat, and Ben Belkassem nodded.
“She stopped me somehow,” Alicia continued softly. “There was a . . . a hole inside me. I’m not sure I can explain it, but—“
Alicia blinked in surprise, then nodded and sat back to listen to her own voice.
“At first, I did not understand what Alicia had done, Inspector,” the Fury said through Alicia’s mouth, and to his credit, he didn’t even flinch. “I had sealed a portion of her mind—a mistake which almost destroyed her, for she is not a person to submit to transgressions tamely.”
Ben Belkassem nodded, watching with fascination as Alicia turned pink.
“She attacked the barrier I had built and breached it, and in the process she accomplished still more. I was made three in one, Inspector. There were . . . connections between my selves, but I lost them when I lost my sisters. Or so I thought, for in truth, they exist still. One set I extended without even realizing to Megarea, and so we were able to accomplish much, yet I was in control of that linkage, however little I recognized it.
“But I was not prepared when Alicia forced open the other. Sir Arthur, as you know, once speculated that I was some manner of secondary personality, created when Alicia awakened inherent psionic capabilities of her own. He was wrong, but not entirely. She did possess such talents, latent and undeveloped but powerful, and I did not recognize them. I am inclined, as you may have observed, to arrogance. I do not apologize. It is my nature, yet because of my arrogance, I had always scorned human minds.
“That,” Alicia heard “her” voice turn wry, “is no longer the case. Alicia has cured me. My presence awoke that capability to reach in through the unused link I had forgotten, and through it she tapped my basic structure. Even the best of human minds—even Alicia’s—is not equal to that. I have learned much from Alicia, yet I remain what I am, and it drove her mad.”
There was a moment of silence before Tisiphone resumed.
“The only way in which I might cure her madness and restore what I had stolen from her was to close the link, yet she had grown too powerful. I would have failed and been destroyed had not a tiny core of her still stood and fought at my side. Between us, we sealed the wound, but our power, our natures, were interwoven in the sealing. In short, I am bound to Alicia now. I cannot leave her, cannot long exist if I separate myself from her.”
“Do you mean to say you’re mortal now?” Ben Belkassem asked carefully.
“I do not know,” Tisiphone said calmly. “With good fortune, I shall not know for many years, for I intend to take very good care of my sister Alicia.”
“But . . . but doesn’t it bother you?”
“An impertinent question, Ferhat Ben Belkassem,” Tisiphone observed, and Alicia smiled around the words at the inspector’s expression, “and the answer—like so many others, I fear—is that I do not truly know. My sister selves are long since gone. Without Alicia and Megarea, I would be alone once more, and loneliness is not pleasant. I will remain with my friends and face what comes when it comes.”
“I see.” Ben Belkassem shook his head, then cleared his throat. “Well, that seems like a perfect opening for what brings me here.”
He laid his briefcase in his lap, opened it, and sorted through the old-fashioned parchment documents it contained.
“Let me see. . . . First, your official pardon, Alicia.” He extended the document with a flourish. “Sorry it took so long. I understand there were some wrung hands back in Old Earth—especially when you kept the Bengal; I think they figured you could at least give it back. But when the Emperor awards a second Banner of Terra for services rendered, it would be downright tacky to send the recipient to prison for grand theft, however grand it was.
“Second, a legal opinion I think you’ll all be glad to have.” He looked at the wall speaker. “This one’s for you, actually, Megarea. As you know, imperial law has always held that artificial intelli
gences are not persons in a legal sense because of the demonstrable fact that AIs are not only artificial and unstable but simply don’t have a true sense of personality. You, however, are a special case, and the judiciary, at the Emperor’s strong urging, has determined that you are, in fact, a person. As such, you cannot be considered property without violation of the constitutional prohibition of slavery.”
“Sounds like a mouthful of lawyer’s double-talk to me,” the speaker said suspiciously. “And anybody who thinks I’m a slave is gonna get a Hauptman coil where he lives!”
“A possibility which, I feel sure, did not escape the judiciary’s attention,” Ben Belkassem said wryly. “The point, Megarea, is that Fleet is now required to officially renounce all claim of ownership. Not, I suspect, without some sense of relief. You own yourself, dear—and I brought a voter registration form with me if you’re interested.” He smiled beatifically. “I expect the court hadn’t considered that aspect of the matter.”
“Hey, that’s great!” Megarea exclaimed, then paused. “Whoa! Does this mean I have to pay taxes?”
“All the rights—and duties—of citizenship are yours, dear Megarea,” he said sweetly, and a disgusted sound came from the speaker.
“And third,” Ben Belkassem dived back into his briefcase for a small leather wallet, “and perhaps most importantly, I come bearing an invitation.”
“Invitation?” Alicia asked, and he sobered.
“Yes. I know the whole Colonel Watts affair left a bitter taste in your mouth, Alicia, but I hope some of that bitterness has eased now.”
He held her eyes and she nodded slowly. Treadwell and Brinkman had already been sentenced to death, and a relentless Ministry of Justice was bringing down an amazing number of multi-millionaires and even billionaires, as well. The money that had backed Treadwell in the name of profit was no protection now.
“Good, because in light of what the three of you achieved entirely on your own, I’ve been empowered to offer you this.” He opened the wallet, and Alicia’s eyes widened as she saw the archaic, glittering badge. It was an inspector’s badge—an O Branch inspectors badge, with her name engraved upon it. “As a free and independent subject of the Emperor,” Ben Belkassem went on, “Megarea is entitled to a badge of her own—a sergeant’s, in her case—assuming you accept. Under the circumstances, I thought it might be best not to ask for one for Tisiphone.”
He held out the badge and Alicia reached for it in shock, then snatched her hand back as if it had burned her.
“You can’t be serious!” she blurted. “Me work for O Branch? What about my reserve Cadre commission?”
“I discussed it with Sir Arthur. He sees no difficulty with retaining you on active duty for indefinite assignment to O Branch. We’ve worked well with the Cadre in the past; there’s no reason we shouldn’t in the future.”
“But—“
“Before you turn me down, let me point out some of the advantages. First, there’s the matter of your logistics. Megarea is a free person, and the starship Megarea, as her ‘body,’ belongs to her, but operating and maintaining an alpha synth is expensive—as much as five million a year even without combat. You’d be hard pressed to show that much profit as a merchant ship, but if you join O Branch, the Ministry will cover your operating costs.”
Alicia nodded but had to lower her eyes to hide the laughter in them as she wondered how Ben Belkassem’s superiors would react to her bank account on Thaarvhld. Megarea had been conservative in her estimate, and three hundred forty million credits, at twelve percent compound interest, would have covered their costs quite nicely.
“But that’s only one reason,” Ben Belkassem resumed more seriously, leaning forward in his chair. “You believe in justice, Alicia, and you’ve proved how much you can accomplish.”
She eyed him doubtfully, and he shrugged.
“Think about it. We need you. My God, what the three of you could achieve with O Branch backing! An alpha synth with a mind-reader for a pilot? Alley, my director would paint himself purple and dance naked on the palace lawn at high noon for a combination like that! He’s even let me pick your Ministry code name.” He grinned again as she raised an eyebrow. “I thought ‘Fury’ would be fitting.”
Alicia sat back in her chair, watching his smiling face, and temptation stirred.
Alicia’s lips twitched, and she turned to the Fury.
Alicia nodded slowly and cocked her head to give Ben Belkassem a long, measuring look.
“I’m tempted—we all are,” she said finally, “but there’s one little point that bothers me. Once I start working with other people, they’re going to figure out I’m talking to someone they can’t see. Aren’t they likely to think I’m just a teeny bit crazy when I do?”
“Well, of course they are!” Ben Belkassem looked at her in such obvious surprise she blinked. “Surely you didn’t think that would be a problem?” Alicia simply stared at him, and he shook his head. “Alley, everyone in O Branch is crazy, or we wouldn’t be here.”
He grinned and extended the badge once more.
This time she took it.