Gallego could understand. But it didn’t make their behavior any less annoying or weird.
She looked at Cheboi to see how she was doing. Not surprisingly, her usually steely-eyed companion looked far from comfortable. A scornful half-smirk had been pasted on her face ever since they had left Tyre. In fact, Gallego could remember with crystal clarity the very second that her companion had donned the sardonic expression. It was when they had ducked inside the nearest lavatory to strip out of their clothes and don the pearly sheets their buoyant Adorate lady had procured for them.
Gallego sighed. It felt like time to justify the decision again. “I know how you feel. But this ensures that we blend in. If anyone is still following us at this point, it will make it that much harder to identify us.”
“I don’t know. It’s not likely those two fir teams survived the last encounter.”
“We did,” Gallego pointed out.
Cheboi acknowledged that with a shrug. “Yes, we did. But we had the advantage of not being a bunch of paid killers. We knew the authorities would actually rescue us.” She placed her hand on Gallego’s arm. “You also had me watching your back.”
Gallego smiled, but not for long. As encouraging as it was, Cheboi’s positivity and bravado couldn’t change their situation.
“Even if those people are all gone, there’s no guarantee there aren’t more out there. We can’t afford to let our guard down again.”
“Okay, I understand that,” Cheboi said curtly. “I’m just not clear on why we’re going to Ebla in the first place.”
Gallego pursed her lips. Yes, that was something she had neglected to explain, mainly because she couldn’t think of a sound and rational way to do so. The last time she had broached the subject of Clio and the strange dreams, they had been swept up in a series of events that had ended with Najafi’s death. Luckily, Cheboi was clever enough to connect the dots for herself.
“It was Clio, wasn’t it? She told you,” she whispered.
Gallego nodded carefully. “It was when we were floating in the Aquilean, when I was unconscious. She reached out again.”
“And gave you directions,” Cheboi surmised. “And she was the one who warned you about the people following us, right before they attacked us. This Clio has got quite the track record, doesn’t she?”
Gallego sensed the direction she was taking with this. She had considered as much herself. It was impossible not to consider that the personality that was haunting her dreams wasn’t actively trying to kill them, but something about that didn’t fit. “I don’t think she’s our enemy. More to the point, I don’t think she’s just some concerned citizen trying to help us.”
“Oh no?” said Cheboi. Her left eyebrow arched. “Who do you think she is?”
“I think she’s the Manifesto’s author. More importantly, I think she wants to be found.”
Cheboi didn’t reply. Her eyes took on a faraway look as her mind processed the possibility. Consistent with what was becoming an increasingly obvious habit, Cheboi’s face remained entirely neutral while the wheels in her mind took in possibilities and spat out exigencies. When she spoke again, her eyes remained fixed on some point in the distance.
“I don’t buy it. She’s taking a big risk by revealing herself to you. How would she even know how to reach you?”
Gallego chuckled and shook her head. “No idea whatsoever. Whoever this woman is, I can only assume she’s got some serious skills. She also indicated she’s not alone, so maybe it’s not all her. Maybe she represents a faction, or a splinter group of some kind.”
Surprisingly, Cheboi didn’t dismiss the idea out of hand. Taking Gallego’s suggestion into consideration, she began considering how that factored into their situation. She also raised an all-important issue that they hadn’t discussed yet. “Let’s assume what you say is true. Doesn’t that mean the mercenaries who intervened to save us work for her?”
Gallego was stumped by that one. It was a distinct possibility that she hadn’t yet considered. The fact that they looked almost exactly like the people who were trying to kill them made it seem unlikely that they were on Cheboi and Gallego’s side.
In addition, Clio had made a point of warning them that an attack was coming. If she had felt that some additional protection was needed, why not alert the Constabulary rather than call in some hired help? A team of Extropian mercenaries would be better equipped, but a fully-armed tactical squad of constables who knew what they were walking into - that would have done in a pinch.
“Can’t be sure,” Gallego concluded. “If they were, that would be simpler. But somehow, it doesn’t seem to fit.”
Eventually, Cheboi turned her head to look at the back of the seat in front of her. She emitted no audible sound, but Gallego sensed she was releasing a full-body sigh. Again, they were trying to unearth some hidden truth, but had nothing to go on but a series of unknowns and speculation. Gallego patted her hand and mirrored her behavior, setting her eyes straight ahead.
The Adorates were still singing and dancing about in the aisle. Perhaps they had the right idea. Gallego wasn’t about to join them but watching them provided a pleasant-enough distraction as they waited for the train to reach Elba. It also provided a strange sense of security. Whoever was looking for them out there, they surely wouldn’t suspect that Gallego and Cheboi would be hiding in plain sight, and in the company of an odd religious cult to boot.
THIRTY-SIX
“EBLA STATION. ALL PASSENGERS be prepared to disembark.”
The noise was less than welcome to Gallego’s ears. After a day full of ordeals and all the exhaustion it entailed, she had once again found the peace and quiet to fall asleep, and with only minimal support from her medimachines.
The Adorates were happy, though. News of their arrival sent them into another frenzy of dancing. All throughout the cabin, people were jumping from their seats, banging their drums and other improvised instruments, and shouting incantations in Jovian pidgin. Gallego called up an overlay and allowed for an instant translation.
“Wǒmen hai ilegado! Shǒuxiān judge nyaayaadheesh is děngdàizhuó!”
[We have arrived! The first judge awaits!]
Gallego took a deep breath and called on her medimachines to ease the transition to wakefulness, some boosted endorphin production, some much-needed cortisol, and an additional painkiller to deal with her headache. Slowly, her world began to lose its rough edges and appear more manageable. She glanced to her left and saw Cheboi staring at her with an air of impatience.
“How long was I out?”
“Not long,” said Cheboi. “But I didn’t want to wake you. You seemed pretty out of sorts.”
Gallego consulted her bio monitors and noted that her recovery was only partially complete. Her neurotransmitter and adrenalin levels were still consistent with those of a person who had just been pulled from a second semi-comatose sleep in less than twenty-four hours. She decided to bolster the production of the requisite neurochemicals and did some basic stretches.
“I guess we better get ready to disembark.”
Cheboi reached beneath their seat and retrieved their satchel bags. “While we’re at it, do you think we could find a room to change in? I’d like to ditch these ridiculous clothes for something more protective.”
EBLA STATION WAS LESS ornamental than the Tyre spaceport, but the color scheme was still very much in keeping with the “Ocean World” concept. The walls, the support beams, and the dome that arched overhead were all rendered in teal, azure, and sea-foam green. The dome itself was especially Europan in style. Light reflecting off Jupiter’s overpowering disc entered the area through various color filters that made it look aqua-marine. Some distortion patterns made it look as if water lay beyond the dome, and not the surface.
Gallego felt the slightest bit of discomfort seeing this. The last time they had been so close to an interior ocean, they had gone swimming in it. She chose to direct her gaze at the terminal instead and do a little peo
ple watching.
One look around confirmed that it was no less crowded that Tyre had been. Compared to the capital’s spaceport upon their arrival, it was only slightly more dominated by the presence of Adorates. While there were still plenty of commuters dressed in various colors and style of garb, the terminal looked for the most part like a sea of eggshell white.
It was easier for Gallego to discern who wasn’t an Adorate. She had the best seat in the house, standing just outside an information kiosk with her disguise now packed in her satchel. Cheboi stood next to her, holding her satchel in a similarly conspiratorial fashion. Both were currently looking for a route that led through the terminal that would also help them avoid the young lady who had “initiated” them. If they ran into her, she would be demanding to know why they had abandoned the path of righteousness and deliverance – aka “the Judges”. Not only would that discussion be entirely uncomfortable, it would draw an awful lot of unwanted attention to themselves.
Cheboi and Gallego had hardly forgotten that there were people out there who were trying to kill them. Neither had they forgotten that there were others who seemed intent on ensuring they stayed alive. Cheboi had indicated how confident she was that these two marauding forces would show themselves again. They could only wonder how that would play out. Which one might catch the other on the hip this time?
Gallego noticed that Cheboi was looking at her. When she looked back, her bodyguard voked to her. [Okay. What now?]
[Not sure,] Gallego replied. As far as giving her directions, Clio had been rather taciturn. Beyond coming to Ebla, she really hadn’t indicated how she and her “friends” were to be found.
In fact, beyond the fact that she was able to access Gallego’s comms, Clio had revealed very little that could be described as concrete. When they did speak, she seemed more concerned with sharing the broad outlines of some prescient vision. It was almost as if she was being deliberately esoteric, like she was trying to challenge them or something.
A thought occurred to Gallego just then. She voked to Cheboi to let her know. [I’ve got an idea. Call up an overlay and start looking for all AR signatures.]
Cheboi obliged and Gallego did the same. In seconds, she was seeing past the crush of Jovians and the room’s surface features, and she noticed certain things. All the terminals in the building were tagged for AR identification, and there were some directional markers, a courtesy for visiting Extros and anyone else equipped with the requisite technology to access digital dimensions. But there was one thing that stood out, something that had no apparent purpose.
Cheboi had already found it. [Do you see that marker there? The far wall near the alcove?]
[I do,] Gallego replied. She magnified her vision to get a better look, though it was hardly necessary. Rendered in bright neon green, the marker was an unmistakable symbol. A crown of myrtle, with two gynomorphic symbols standing next to it, side by side.
As directions went, there were few that were more personalized. It might as well have been an engraved invitation. A simple decal indicating that two Cytherean women should walk towards it.
So, they did. Cheboi took the lead while Gallego followed the path she traced through the crowd. They moved hurriedly and avoided eye-contact, keeping up a brisk pace until they were on the other side of the main terminal. Cheboi made sure never to get too far ahead and kept looking back to make Gallego wasn’t being swallowed by the crowd.
At last, they reached the other end of the station and found the alcove with the bright signature on the wall. Only two people stood nearby. Both looked like regular Jovians, no robes or strange ornaments to speak of. These individuals busied themselves with their mobile devices and paid Cheboi and Gallego no attention. Moving to a spot that was deserted, Cheboi and Gallego pressed their backs to the wall and turned about, looking to the large crowd they had just pushed through.
After a few seconds, Cheboi voked her again. [Okay, now what?]
[Good question,] Gallego replied. They had sought out a marker, found it, and were now standing immediately by it. Suddenly, she was feeling incredibly conspicuous. For anyone else able to pick AR signature - such as the people hunting them - the two Cytherean women standing right by it couldn’t help but look like appealing targets. Gallego’s bio monitors began responding to her sudden increase in anxiety.
“Pilgrims!”
The voice called from the crowd, setting Gallego’s teeth on edge. She knew it wasn’t a threat, but it inspired trepidation nonetheless. At the edge of the throng, the sea of white robes parted to reveal the young lady who had recruited them earlier.
“Pilgrims!” she repeated, walking towards them. “You appear to have lost your way.”
Gallego looked down at her current apparel and shrugged. “I’m sorry, we were a little uncomfortable. We decided we might -”
The young woman didn’t wait for Gallego to finish with her flimsy denial. “Those who have lost their way should always solicit the help of a guide. Preferably someone who knows how to find what it is they seek.”
Cheboi drew her right arm up defensively. Something about the young woman’s words sounded oddly cryptic, not the usual abstract spiritualism she had been spewing earlier. Gallego, for her part, stared back at the young woman blankly. “What are you talking about?” she asked.
“You have found the second marker,” the young woman said. “Let me show you the third.”
Before anyone could say anything more, the young woman stepped past them into the alcove. She walked a few meters before turning back and issuing them on. “Hurry. Clio awaits.”
Gallego looked back at Cheboi. She voked what they both were thinking. [This seems like a bad idea. But what choice do we have?]
Cheboi didn’t need to reply. Her expression said it all. They were operating on dream messages, cryptic symbols and special envoys. The line between sensibility and reckless stupidity had disappeared a long time ago.
They followed the young woman down the tunnel, which ended after about twenty meters. The young woman waved her hand at the wall directly in front of them, and a second marker appeared, this one in the form of a woman riding in a chariot with a lyre in her hands.
“Can you see that?” Gallego asked the young woman. From her outward appearance, she looked like a flesh and blood human, no signs of augmentation at all. Then again, to an outside observer, so did Gallego and Cheboi. Looking unenhanced was often a sign of having the best of enhancements.
The young woman turned to them with a look of mild disapproval. “No, it isn’t our way. But Clio says, ‘judge not’, and she is a messenger of the Judges”.
Gallego nodded. Behind the young woman, the marker disappeared, and the wall began to make noises. A few clanks and grinds, and a maintenance hatch popped open. It was just wide enough to fit a single person, provided they crawled on their hands and knees. It was reasonably well-lit, but a cold blast of air poured out the moment the panel was opened. Gallego instantly knew that this passageway extended from the edge of the crater that housed the terminal to another.
Gallego looked through the hatch uncertainly, then back to their guide. “Where does this lead?”
“To the settlement,” she said. “You will emerge in the Arwad quarter. Look for domicile one-one-three. It isn’t far from where you will come out.”
Gallego had a string of questions she felt like asking. She wanted to ask how this woman was involved with Clio, what she knew about her, if the other cultists were involved too. She never got the chance.
“You must hurry. Clio awaits. There are hostile forces searching for the both of you.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” said Cheboi, who pushed past Gallego and crawled in first. She managed to get her legs in behind her when she called back at Gallego to follow. “Let’s go, Veronika!”
Gallego took a deep breath. Her medimachines were taking the edge off her anxiety, but she still felt a general sense of trepidation and worry. But they were long since past the po
int of stopping or debating their next move. Ducking down, Gallego placed her head inside, followed by her hands and feet. Once she was in, the young lady called to them one last time.
“Blessings of Clio upon you. She said you two were special. I hope you prove to be as extraordinary as she says.”
The hatch slid shut, removing the young woman from their sight and placing Gallego in the tight space alone. She looked ahead to see that Cheboi was now several meters away, making good progress towards whatever lay at the other end. Without any further delays, she began moving through the crawlspace after her. Despite her lingering fears, it wasn’t hard to motivate herself forward. Whatever was waiting for them at the other end, it had to be better than what they were leaving behind.
THIRTY-SEVEN
TO HER RELIEF, THE cultist’s directions had proven to be true. Once they cleared the hatch at the other end, Gallego and Cheboi emerged into another section of Ebla. The dome was much like the one in the station, only this one was inactive. Given the late hour, it had become transparent to admit the night sky. But beneath it, the same variations on aquamarine covered the urban landscape.
The settlement looked beautiful from where they stood. A bit austere but boasting a certain rugged charm. Like all Jovian settlements, the structures were spartan and functional - a series of Platonic solids that formed houses and communal buildings. But they were laid out with more artistry than settlements like Selket. Instead of adjoining honeycombs and grid like streets, Ebla was a single, open-air settlement crisscrossed by silvery footpaths and roads.
Looking to her left and right, Gallego realized they were standing on such a footpath, one that wrapped around a series of spheroid-shaped residences. These studded the sloping wall that was the outer edge of the crater. This same wall also separated the main settlement from the transit terminal. It gave Gallego a bit of a chill to think that they had crawled through a few hundred meters of ice.
The Jovian Manifesto (The Formist Series Book 2) Page 24
