by J. E. Gurley
“What did you find?” Lord Hromhada asked his servant.
“The override was instituted by a Dastoran,” Metak answered, “during her training.”
Only Lord Hromhada’s sharp intake of breath and a tightening of the flesh around his eyes indicated his fury.
“That cannot be,” he said. “No Dastoran would risk all that we have worked for.”
There was a pause before Metak answered. “Huumba would, my Lord.”
“Huumba? Protector Huumba has done this?” Lord Hromhada was outraged that one so trusted would betray him. He made a fist and raised it in the air, as if wishing to crush his protector’s body.
A slight smirk crossed Metak’s face, not enough to warrant Lord Hromhada’s ire, but enough to show his delight that Huumba had crossed the High Lord. “I traced an illicit program to him designed to engage in the proximity of a battle.”
Lord Hromhada sighed. Huumba would risk such a thing to earn his Breeders right. Prove himself in battle, and he could choose any woman he wished, even if the mission itself failed. “Yes, it is possible.”
Lord Hromhada waved his hand in dismissal, but Metak did not leave.
“There’s more?”
“Yes, my Lord. The Trilock Ambassador also attempted to penetrate our computer security codes.”
“Did he succeed?”
“That is unknown. If so, it was a shallow scan only.”
“Still, any knowledge he gained could be detrimental to the mission. Once Amissa renews contact, I will order his immediate death.”
Metak backed away slowly. Lord Hromhada raised his hand to stop him.
“Metak.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“See to it that anyone connected to the security breaches is executed, quietly. No one must learn of this. No one. Huumba’s part in this must remain our secret.”
Metak smiled slightly, and then pulled a bloodied blade from his belt. “It has begun, my Lord.” He backed out the door, leaving Lord Hromhada alone to think. “Sometimes Metak is too efficient.” He realized he had loosed a wolf among sheep but it was a necessity. If the Council … well, they could not find out.
Lord Hromhada smiled to himself. Huumba had proven himself more capable than he had imagined. If Huumba survived, he would allow him to live and grant him his Breeders rights. To be a good Protector, one must have courage, cunning, and a certain disregard for orders. It was a new era for Dastora, and it seemed treachery would become a part of it.
Amissa floated on a warm sea. The water came up around her body almost to her mouth, enfolding it like a loving blanket. The sea was not wet, nor did it move as she thought any sea would. It was more like a soft cloud drifting lazily on the breeze. Yes, she was on a cloud. She opened her eyes but saw nothing – no sun, no stars, no ship. She was alone, completely and utterly, floating helplessly on a sea of wispy clouds with moving flashing lights as a sky.
She remembered. She remembered the urge welling up within her, forcing her to couple with Jazon, her hormones boiling like a sea of lava seeking release. She needed completion. Her entire being drove her to merge with him, mind and spirit, to lose herself in his humanity, leave it as a dead, dried husk, and step forth a new … thing, designed at the Dastorans’ whims. She felt shame, not for the compulsion that drove her, but for Jazon who realized what it would mean to her and had stopped her. At that moment, he had become aware that she was nothing but a tool, designed specifically to ensnare him in the Dastoran scheme.
Much remained hidden from her, either because of limitations set in place by her Dastoran masters, or because she was not yet complete, an unfinished project. She could see far beyond the limited range of ship’s sensors. The paths opened up to her as if painted with golden sparkles, each becoming visible as she concentrated on it, a myriad of roads leading to a single destination, curving and spiraling in patterns contorted by gravity and time. All she need do was to reach out with her mind and follow it.
She did not know how it was possible, but it felt powerful.
She explored her own mind. She could feel the tiny empty place, the twenty-minute gap, like a tongue exploring the hole left from a pulled tooth. Someone had neatly excised the snippet of memory, as a surgeon would remove a cancer. It was a deliberate act, a violation. She did not think Lord Hromhada would allow such a thing. The compulsion to aid the Alliance ships required no lengthy deliberation. It was the work of Huumba. Now, she could see his clumsy hand in it clearly. It was the type of risk he would take to ensure his future.
Lord Hromhada had used her, used her most foully in luring Jazon to her side. She had thought him merely a pawn in the mission to the Phyein, not a reagent designed to alter her like some laboratory chemical. Add a dash of love, a pinch of heartache, stir rapidly and you had … what – an Avatar?
She ached. Her body was maturing rapidly. She could feel forgotten memories flood her mind, overwhelming her. Pains shot through her like bolts of lightning. Her body convulsed like some drugged-out hooker in a cheap brothel coming down off a long high. She knew she needed a fix, but of what? Her body yearned for completion, to become that for which her designers had meant her, but she was afraid. She did not want to lose what small iota of humanity she still possessed, that single strand of DNA that kept her from being a Dastoran meat puppet, mindlessly obeying her masters.
Jazon has seen the danger and was protecting her, but at what cost, to her and to him? No, the Phyein had shown Jazon the danger. They did not want her to fulfill the Dastorans’ goals. What purpose did they have for her?
The lights flickered in a pattern her mind seemed to recognize but could not quite grasp. Sounds – voices – came to her from light years away, muffled by the roar of cosmic winds and by the greedy pull of stars. She was in her room. She sensed its familiarity and nestled into it like a comfortable old blanket. The lights were people, coming and going, an endless stream of faces passing across her consciousness. They moved with the flow of time and across it, parallel to it, surrounding it without intersecting it. The future came at her in flashes, and the past raced to catch up. As they collided, pains of awareness erupted like miniature Big Bangs, shooting through her mind like exploding galaxies. She felt Jazon’s presence hovering over her, melding with her being. She knew that he would save her, had saved her, and a flood of calming relief washed through her.
She knew what Lord Hromhada did not suspect, that the reason none of the Dastorans could meld with a human AI was simply a matter of belief systems. Their sense of racial superiority forbade it. They could not allow themselves to become part of, or to trust an inferior mind implicitly enough to meld with it. Their racial yearning for becoming perfect beings would not allow them to look back at what they had once been, to lower themselves to a human level. She giggled with the excitement of knowing. Knowledge was power.
She didn’t feel inferior, nor for that matter did she think of herself as superior. She was neither, perhaps no longer even human. She could feel her prescience growing like a disease, threading its way into her mind like some invasive vine. She wanted to rip it out by the roots, but knew that the roots went deep, spreading far back into her past and into the past of Jazon Lightsinger, his father, and his father’s father before him.
The Phyein had hinted to Lord Hromhada that there were ties that bound her and Jazon Lightsinger together that were not the handiwork of the Dastorans or even of the Phyein. The threads had been interwoven by space-time itself and the future for which it searched. The universe teetered on a needle, ready to topple from its lofty perch. Balance was demanded. This was their mission, or so they had thought. Puny humans could do little to leverage an entire universe. Other forces were at play, and they were merely the fulcrum.
Her body relaxed. She felt Jazon’s presence enter her, his thoughts warm and comforting. She knew she would live.
13
“Men, having often abandoned what was visible for the sake of what was uncertain, have not got what they
expected, and have lost what they had, being unfortunate by an enigmatical sort of calamity.”
The Deipnosophists VI. 23 Athenaeus
Forced by Amissa’s breakdown to a series of short Skips, Occam’s Razor plodded across space like a cargo tug reluctant to reach its destination. Jazon remained at the helm, aiding the computer in the complicated navigation required for even these short hops. In a manner he didn’t quite comprehend, his neuro-link with Amissa had been more shared than he had thought. Though he didn’t have her prescient abilities, he was able to access all ships functions through the link at many times the speed of visual confirmation reading the boards. He was, in effect, the new ship’s AI, albeit it a humble and profoundly confused one.
He worried for Amissa, lying helpless and hopeless in her bed. In saving her from her fate, had he doomed her to one as equally appalling? Lyton and Ulrich were taking turns watching her closely, but she had fallen into a deep catatonic state, responding to no outside stimuli. The ship’s autodoc had recommended a series of sedatives and intravenous feedings, but without psychological help, Jazon feared she might not recover. He felt as if he had broken a delicate porcelain doll.
His threat of total destruction had kept Huumba and the other Drones in line so far. They now had no weapons on board other than his stunner. It was unlikely that such weapons would aid them against the Phyein if the Phyein proved dangerous. A stunner was as good as …. Suddenly, Jazon recalled the strange device he had seen in M’Kat’s quarters, realizing what it might be.
“Son of a bitch,” he cursed under his breath. “The Trilock’s got an Ataxan Mindwiper.”
He knew he had seen such a device before. It had been in the Ataxan jail in which he had spent those memorable days and nights. The device was deadly in the right hands, and no doubt, the Trilock had received thorough training in its use. The question was why did he have it?
“Ulrich,” he called over the comm. “Please escort our Trilock ambassador to the bridge.”
A few minutes later, Ulrich entered, followed closely by a grumbling Ambassador M’Kat. The ambassador was playing it cool, though Jazon could see mottled his skin quiver, the expressive chromatic cells in his skin darkening, a sign of apprehension. “You wished to see me?” he asked in an annoyed tone of voice, raising himself to full height by extending the rear claw in his foot.
“I was just wondering why you have an Ataxan Mindwiper aboard my ship.”
Ulrich was stunned. He glared at the Trilock, and then looked at Jazon. “A Mindwiper? Here?”
The ambassador gulped before answering. The Trilock equivalent of an Adam’s apple bounced in his throat. If a Trilock could show fear, he was showing it now. “I assure you it was intended only in case we were captured by the Phyein. I will not, that is, my government will not allow me to fall into their hands. Before that could happen, I intended to use the weapon on myself.”
It was a reasonable explanation, but Jazon wasn’t convinced the Trilock was speaking the truth. “Why should I believe you?”
“I have a bargaining chip to offer as proof of my sincerity. I can tell you who overrode your AI’s protocol.”
Jazon couldn’t hide his surprise that the Trilock knew about this.
The ambassador smiled. It was a hideous thing to see on a Trilock’s face. Their sharp canines did little to help convey such subtle expressions. “You seemed surprised at my depth of knowledge. We suspect the Dastorans of much treachery. That is why many of our captains show a decided reluctance to fight alongside Dastoran ships.”
“I thought it was because you are all cowards,” Jazon sniped.
M’Kat swelled up to his full height. “We fought the Cha’aita alone for many years before the birth of the Alliance,” he said brusquely. “They are a formidable foe. We respect them for their courage. We do not respect the Dastorans. They keep many secrets. I came to gather information. By close observation aboard Lord Hromhada’s ship, I saw the Drone Huumba place a discreet program in the teaching devices used by your AI. It was, I now suspect, an implanted command to seek out battle. Only in this manner could he and his companions prove themselves worthy enough to breed.”
Jazon nodded. “Okay, that sounds reasonable enough, but why did he cut power during the battle? We could have all died.”
M’Kat lowered his head. “He did not. I did.”
“You?” The Trilock’s admission stunned Jazon.
“Yes. My intention was simply to cast us adrift so that my people could examine this marvelous ship at our leisure. It was only by sheer bad luck that it happened during the battle, the possibility of which I did not anticipate.
“It was a mistake for which I am sorry, but I feel no guilt for the original action. It is my duty to my people to learn all I can about Dastoran technology before they abandon us to our fate.”
“You’ll be pleased to know your ship scanned us before they Skipped.”
“That is good,” M’Kat stated smugly
“So, you know about the Dastoran plan to leave?”
“Of course. It is the reason I accompanied you on this suicide mission. The Phyein are a bigger threat to my people than the Cha’aita. They must be destroyed. We cannot face both.”
“I’ll decide that,” he shot at the ambassador. “For the remainder of this trip, you will remain in your cabin. Furthermore, you will relinquish your Mindwiper. If you wish to avoid the Phyein gleaning information from you, you still have your knife.”
M’Kat bowed low, but Jazon could see his spines writhing, a sign of agitation. He would obey Jazon’s orders, but only reluctantly. Jazon knew he could not trust him.
He turned to Ulrich. “Ulrich, see that the Mindwiper is spaced. The last thing we need around here is a Mindwiper.” As Ulrich walked off, Jazon stopped him. “Wait!” He faced M’Kat, the muscles in his face tense with the anger that was sweeping over him. “You bastard! You used the Mindwiper on Amissa didn’t you?” He pulled his knife from his belt and placed the tip against the Trilock’s right eye. Ulrich moved to stop him but Jazon waved him away. “Why?”
M’Kat trembled in fear. “I, er, I … I used it on a very low setting only to cover my tracks.” He lowered his body to relieve the pressure of Jazon’s knife. Facing Jazon at his level, one hand moved toward the knife on his hip, but retreated quickly as Jazon applied slightly more pressure. Jazon forced him against a wall. “It should last only a short time, I assure you.”
He noticed the look of murder in Jazon’s eye. Now he pleaded. “Please! I did not cause her present condition, I assure you. I simply made her blind to a short period of the ship’s memory.” Jazon pushed the knife harder until blood trickled from the Trilock’s cheek just below the eye. “Her condition is not my fault!”
Slowly, Jazon eased pressure on the knife, and then replaced it in his belt. “No, It’s my fault,” he said simply and walked away, leaving M’Kat trembling.
After M’Kat had departed the bridge, Ulrich approached Jazon, as he stared at the view screen. “Would you have killed him?”
Jazon shook his head. “I don’t know. The Trilock consider their right eye the eye with which they will see their heaven. Without it, he would be blind in the afterlife. I figured he would tell me the truth rather than risk losing it.”
“Do you believe him?”
Jazon sighed and turned his head, facing the way M’Kat had just exited. “Yes. I’m the sole cause of Amissa’s condition. He may have snipped twenty minutes from her life, but I may have ended it.”
“You don’t know that, Jazon. She’s strong. I know. Stronger than you might think.”
Jazon smiled. “Good old Ulrich. You always have such high hopes for me, but I always seem to screw them up, don’t I?”
“I’m still with you,” Ulrich insisted, grinning.
“Yes, yes you are, and for that I’m grateful. You’re the only one I can trust aboard this ship. I’m not even sure I can trust myself. Now, go toss that damn Mindwiper off this ship before
I decide to use it on myself.”
“Yes, Jazon.”
Ulrich left, leaving Jazon to busy himself with the operations of the ship. It was a difficult task with part of his mind dwelling on Amissa’s condition. A careful analysis of the relay problem indicated that they did not carry sufficient replacements to get the Interstitial Drive one-hundred percent operational. They were stuck in normal space unless some miracle occurred, and he didn’t believe in miracles.
Ulrich dutifully carried out his friend’s orders and sent the Ataxan Mindwiper out the airlock. As he handled the device, he felt a twinge of queasiness thinking about its function. If the mind was the home of the soul, he wondered if someone Mindwiped would become soulless. In essence, wasn’t this what the Dastorans had done to Amissa each time they had downloaded her mind into the next generation clone body? How much of her soul had she lost in six-hundred years? Ulrich shook his head in doubt as he trudged to the galley. He felt he should eat but his mind wasn’t on food. He worried for Jazon. His friend’s emotional attachment to Amissa was unraveling him thread by thread. He should have left when Jazon had wanted to. Now, it was too late. All the things Jazon had predicted were coming true.
For most of his life, Ulrich had wandered aimlessly from world to world, at first trying to find himself, and then trying to lose himself. As the bastard son of Count Ivan Stumphman of Khoristan, Ulrich knew that his life on Earth would have been one of constant reminder of his lowly status. Without realizing, he had accepted his lowly status and had carried it with him to the stars. Only when he had become interested in the Three Principles had he begun to see that his life truly mattered.
Helping Jazon recover after finding him laying beaten in an alley after his release from an Ataxan jail had been his attempt to bring balance back to his own life.
Now, he was attempting to bring balance back to the entire universe. The deed seemed beyond his capabilities. One good thing about Jazon was he Jazon knew his limits and didn’t try to exceed them. That had made them an effective team for the past two years. Ulrich was learning his limits only now as they were being tested.
