Eon

by Greg Bear

  The director of the Infinite Hexamon Nexus, Hulane Ram Seija, could trace his ancestry back to the Greater East Asian Geshels who had first returned man to space, thirteen centuries before; yet he looked less human than the Frant. In this, he was typical of many neomoph citizens occupying Central City.

  Ram Seija was round, one-half of his body brushed silvery metal, the other half an elegant black-and-green-swirled mineral shell from the worlds accessible through the 264 gate.

  His face, which could be projected to any of three different positions on the sphere, had large, inquiring eyes and a sharp-toothed grin which was definitely not designed to mask his basic aggressiveness. His two muscular arms had the twin advantanges of human appearance and prosthetic adaptability; they could stretch two meters if need be.

  He had no legs, using his arms and the ubiquitous traction fields to get from place to place.

  He was less than a century old and this was his second shape; for his first thirty years, he had been as homorphic as any orthodox Naderite.

  It was in those years that Ram Seija had made his contacts and learned the basic political skills. To Olmy, he exemplified the quintessential Journey Century Twelve Radical Geshel.

  Ram Seija was number four in the power hierarchy of the Hexamon, behind the President, the Presiding Minister of the Nexus and the Minister of the Joint Axis Council.

  In the Nexus Sphere, located just outside the flaw passage near the core of Central City, Ram Seija had convened twenty-three corporeal representatives and five senators in a discovery session. Twenty of the Nexus members were present incarnate, which was a word that had lost much of its meaning centuries before; now it meant little more than being in primary physical form. Such form did not necessarily include much flesh. By law, no partial personalities were allowed in the chambers however convenient that would have been for those still confined to the Jarts conference, being held on Tunbl, the Frant home world.

  Ram Seija guided himself to the middle of the sphere and took on the golden armillary bands of light to announce the meeting’s start.

  Olmy drifted at the outside, the Frant curled up beside him, only neck and head extended. Olmy had ended an exchange with Corprep Rosen Gardner some minutes before, on an apparently disputatious note; the New Orthodox Naderite leader of the Korzenowi faction had wanted a little preliminary testimony, and Olmy had resisted. Gardner was one of the few corpreps who broke procedure often and was tolerated nonetheless; he was also one of the few Korzenowski factioners who was reasonable in a debate. In the eyes of the radical Geshels, this—and his large following of Naderites—made him a particularly dangerous opponent.

  “In the name of Star, Fate, Pneuma and the Good Man, who sought equality and fair deals for all consumers, and who sought the end of overwhelming and inhuman technology, this meeting of the Infinite Hexamon Nexus convenes. There is news, gentlepeople,” Ram Seija Announced, “there is news.

  “Our testimony is from Ser Olmy. We also have corroboration from one of our valuable allies, who helped Ser Olmy with his investigation.”

  Olmy and the Frant advanced to the center and received their armillary bands.

  “I have spent the past year in the Thistledown, at the request of the Presiding Minister,” he said. ”This Frant accompanied me. Together, we investigated an unusual intrusion. Do we have permission to playback our records and to testify by picting?”

  Ram Seija gave his permission.

  For each of the senators and corpreps, the seven chambers of the Thistledown were displayed in considerable detail. In a few minutes, they became acquainted with the new human occupants of the Thistledown’s chambers. Olmy and the Frant had managed to record some five hundred individuals on their instruments. The compounds were shown, along with a few building interiors. Olmy then demonstrated that the various languages spoken by the new occupants derived from pre-Death Earth.

  The point of view of the picted testimony took a dizzying climb up the south polar cap of the first chamber and zoomed down the bore hole.

  The reactivated rotating docks and staging areas were briefly shown, and then the point of view emerged from the bore hole.

  At a distance of some thirty thousand kilometers, the crescent Earth dominated the darkness, the sun emerging from behind its limb in the west.

  The reaction in the Nexus chamber was extraordinary.

  Homiform corpreps gasped; all registered strong emotions in various ways.

  Gardner spoke first. ”Blessed Konrad,” he said. ”He found a way to bring us home again.”

  “Stricken; not testimony,” Ram Seija decreed abruptly.

  “It is truly Earth,” Olmy said. ”The Thistledown has returned to its construction orbit, automatically and without our knowledge. The creation of the Way did not remove us from all familiar spaces. It is possible that the Thistledown could have completed its intended journey. It did not. Instead, it sought out the sun and altered its course to return home.

  “But we did not escape all effects of the Way’s creation. The Thistledown was indeed shifted into a neighboring continuum, but also into the relative past. It entered its current orbit some three centuries before its launch.”

  The chamber was silent, stunned by the implications of what Olmy was saying.

  The picted testimony continued. In less than four minutes, it showed the beginning of the Death and concluded with the spectacle of Earth covered with a thick gray pall of smoke, on the threshold of the Long Winter.

  The stillness in the chamber was profound. Olmy quickly pushed on.

  “I returned to the city with one of the new occupants, a corporeal woman named Patricia Luisa Vasquez. Subsequently, four others violated the axis flaw by riding a vehicle near the city. They have been acquitted and made guests of Axis Nader. All of them, of course, are corporeal and primitive, of primary form and unsupplemented mentality. They are our predecessors.”

  The armillary bands now glowed around the first senator assigned to speak. She advanced. Olmy recognized Prescient Oyu, daughter of the still-regnal Gate Opener Ry Oyu. Senator Oyu had worked with SI Ram Kikura, two years before, to exempt victims of sex-retrovirus from the limit of two incarnations; she was known to have Naderite sympathies, though her background was moderate Geshel.

  She was a homorph with elaborations designed to heighten both sexual and leadership traits.

  “The Thistledown returned to Earth at the precise moment of the Death?” she asked.

  “That is in testimony,” Ram Seija reminded her.

  “Not precisely,” Olmy said. ”The Thistledown entered the solar system five and a half years before the Death. I have evidence—presented in subtext—that our arrival in fact triggered the Death. It is possible that without the Thistledown’s presence in orbit around the Earth and Moon, the earth in this continuum would have escaped the Death.”

  Gardner raised his hands in horror. ”This is an abomination,” he said. ”Blessed Korzenowski could never have intended this.”

  “All credit to the Hexamon Nexus,” Prescient Oyu continued, “but a question arises as I look over the precis on the agenda. Why has this news not been broadcast through the entire city? I suggest we make an unequivocal report public and convene an emergency full Nexus convention.”

  Her bands of light changed to amber and she receded a meter. Ram Seija extended both arms and spread his fingers wide to have Nexus attention.

  “The news is startling and important, but it also could have adverse social consequences. We wish to release the news in the most constructive fashion.”

  Corprep Enrik Smys, a moderate Geshel with past service to the Hexamon in a capacity similar to Olmy’s, objected that the Jarts conference certainly held precedence. The Jarts showed every sign of preparing to advance beyond 2 ex 9. “And even our subject today, compared to that, is trivial.”

  “Perhaps not, Corprep Smys,” said Rosen Gardner. ”All these questions may yet be tangled.”

  “Did you find eviden
ce of deliberate reprogramming of the Thistledown guidance system?” Ram Seija asked.

  Olmy rotated to face the center. ”I did not,” Olmy said. “But the system erased all instructions immediately after arrival. There is no way of knowing.” Gardner formally requested the armillary bands. Ram Seija, with some hesitation, assented.

  “It is time once more to ask for a search in City Memory,” he said. “There is one who can tell us all we need to know—”

  “The Engineer is dead!” Ram Seija objected vehemently.

  “We are aware he is inactive,” Gardner said with uncharacteristic control. ”But Blessed Korzenowski knew of the danger to his patterns when he retired his corpus. We must authorize a search for any parts of his personality not purged by the assassins.”

  “Overruled,” Ram Seija said.

  “I request a hearing before the full Nexus,” Gardner persisted.

  “Disallowed.”

  “Procedural inquiry?” Gardner said coolly. Ram Seija’s face rose to the top of the mineral half of his sphere and he glowered at the corprep. Only in extremus was a procedural inquiry called for; he had played right into the corprep’s hands by going beyond his jurisdiction.

  “Seconded,” Senator Oyu said, turning her elegant eyes to the surprised Gardner.

  “Procedural inquiry,” Ram Seija assented; he had no choice. But his expression—now in the middle of his sphere—made it clear Corprep Gardner’s standing in the Nexus would be weakened by any means in his power.

  Olmy listened to the discussion without much interest from that point on and, when his release was given, left the sphere with the Frant to return to Axis Nader. He took a rapid lift to the circle and quadrant where the terrestrials were being secluded.

  Escorting the Frant into the kitchen lounge area, he credited an open meal for his companion.

  “You are gracious, Ser Olmy,” the Frant said, eyes narrowing as it surveyed the feast possibilities. ”I assume I am to remain here for a time.”

  “We’ll introduce you to the others a little later,” Olmy said, his thoughts far away.

  “I am content.”

  Olmy keyed open the entrance to the secluded sector. The Frant squatted at the arena of shelves which was a traditional Frant dining table, then turned to blink at Olmy.

  “You did not expect so much trouble, did you?” the Frant said.

  Olmy smiled at the Frant from the dilated doorway.

  “You’d be surprised,” he said and entered the sector with a wink.

  Chapter Fifty-one

  The zero elevator to the bore-hole staging areas was seldom used now. Only two people continued their work in the staging areas—Roberta Pickney and Silvia Link. Hoffman considered their work important, however, and made it a point to visit them personally at least once a week.

  The broad spaces and comparatively low ceilings of the staging areas reminded her of a parking garage or convention center. With her two marine guards, she took a tracked cart to the communications and control center beneath the prime dock and walked alone into the quiet room.

  Silvia Link was asleep in a sling. Roberta Pickney greeted Hoffman quietly and showed her the intercepted transmissions from Earth and the Moon.

  “Lunar settlement seems to be doing well,” she said. There were heavy bags under her eyes; she looked ten years older than when Hoffman had first met her. ”There are still people on Earth, but they’re only using low-power transmitters—working off batteries and windmill generators, I’d guess. I think one or two small cities are still transmitting these low-power signals—areas that may have been protected by orbiting platforms. I send out our own signals every now and then, but nobody’s called back yet. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “There’re people, at least,” Hoffman said.

  “Yeah. At least. But nobody much cares about us, and why should they?”

  “You should get into the fourth chamber for some R and R,” Hoffman suggested. ”You don’t look too well.”

  “I feel pretty lousy, too. But this is all I have left. I’ll make it as long as there’re voices down there. You’re not going shut us down, are you?”

  “No, of course not,” Hoffman said. ”Don’t be silly.”

  “My privilege to be paranoid,” Pickney said, thrusting her lower jaw forward and pulling it back, with an audible grind of molars. “When Heineman gets back, I’ll go to work with him refurbishing the shuttle. I’d like to get to the Moon. I have friends there.”

  “No word on the expedition,” Hoffman said. ”They’re late, but that’s not much reason to worry ... yet. I may get some of Heineman’s fellows working on the shuttle soon. Give us all something new to think about.”

  “What about the missing Russians?” Link asked from her sling, blinking at them sleepily.

  “Still unavailable for comment,” Hoffman said. She took Pickney’s hand and squeezed it. ”You’re needed,” she said. “Both of you. Don’t overdo it.”

  Pickney nodded without much conviction. ”All right. Have Janice Polk and Beryl Wallace spell us in a day or so. We’ll go get some tubelight and see the sights.”

  “Fine,” Hoffman said. ”Now show me where the signals are coming from ...

  Chapter Fifty-two

  The rogue reappeared before Patricia as she slept and awoke her by tickling her ear. ”Miss Patricia Luisa Vasquez, late of Earth—the late Earth;” he said. ”I’m here with some answers.”

  She rolled over and rubbed her eyes. The rogue’s appearance had changed; he now seemed to wear baggy pants and a cardigan sweater. His hair was styled in a loose shag, and a watchless fob hung from a belt loop, terminating in a hemline pocket in the sweater. The rogue was in the height of 2005 fashion. She leaned over the bed and examined his shoes.

  Huaraches and Japanese tabi socks completed his wardrobe.

  “They’re on to me,” he said. ”I had to slip in a different way. I’m using the auxiliary pictor; the primary is locked. And I’ve reprogrammed the apartment privacy unit to edit us both out of any record while we talk. I’ve found there is a way to get into the city record. Very disappointing; to the Nexus, apparently nothing is sacred.”

  Patricia blinked and then got out of bed, reaching for her robe.

  “Do you do this all the time?”

  “No,” the rogue replied. ”Takes a lot of effort to get this far. I’d much rather be playing games in City Memory, but my employers are handing out incredible advantages for the information. Luckily, I sent mine in just before the general release—now everybody knows you’re here.”

  “We’ve been told that already.”

  “Right,” the rogue said. The lights in the bedroom came up.

  Patricia examined herself in the lavatory mirror and decided there wasn’t much that could be done in a hurry. She looked exhausted and her hair was tangled from restless sleep.

  “Anyway, answers,” the rogue said, “more answers than questions asked. You’re going to testify before the full Nexus in a couple of days—nobody knows that yet but me and those who should. They you’re going to be included in the Last Gate ceremony. That’s not its official name, but that’s what it amounts to—you’ll meet the Prime Gate Opener at the one point three ex nine segment and witness the opening. They may close it just after—Jarts coming down fast.”

  “What are Jarts?”

  “Fleas, the Nexus will tell you—parasites, monstrously aggressive and not in the least cooperative. The Way was in place a thousand years before it was finally connected to the Thistledown—Way time, of course, which wasn’t congruent until the linkup. The Jarts entered through a test gate and took up residency before it was opened. They matured in the Way and we had to fight them back. They know how to open gates and they control between two ex nine and, we think, four ex nine. But look, this is all in the Memory and I don’t have much time. I have news about Olmy. You know about the orthodox Naderites and the Geshels?”

  “Yes,” Patricia said.

 
; “Well, they have two contingency plans should the Jarts overpower us, which seems all too likely now. The Geshels want to mobilize the entire Axis City, grab the flaw and ride it at near-light-speed over the Jart territories—and at the same time blow the Thistledown off the end of the Way.”

  “What? Why?”

  “That could seal the Way—cauterize it. And eliminate the danger of the Thistledown’s being reoccupied and having the entire Way controlled by Jarts. The other alternative is to guide the Thistledown to a habitable planet and simply abandon the Way—or close it down, eliminate it. The Axis City could escape by passing through the end of the Way, blowing off the Thistledown and going into orbit around the planet. That would take time ... or would have, until now. The Thistledown is in Earth orbit, an ideal situation for abandoning the Way. Everybody knows that. So the orthodox Naderites—especially the Korzenowski faction—”

  “Who are they?” Patricia asked, all her muzziness vanishing at the rogue’s mention of the familiar name.

  “They’re descended from the engineers who once supported the Way’s designer, Konrad Korzenowski. The core is a small, conservative group—return-to-Earthers, most of them. Oeshels regarded them as candidates for inactive Memory, until now. The Naderites and Korzenowski people are calling for reconsideration.”

  “They want to blow up the asteroid and take the Axis City into Earth-Moon orbit?”

  “That’s it. Now—my time’s running out fast. I’m going to trigger all sorts of safeguards shortly, and I won’t be able to visit you again—this is my last avenue. Olmy isn’t what he seems. He’s—“

  What happened next, happened so fast Patricia could hardly follow it. The rogue’s image wobbled violently and something fizzled in the far wall. A jagged beam of red shot from the auxiliary pictor across the room and hit her slate on the nightstand. The rogue vanished. The bedroom lights dimmed.