by Ryk E. Spoor
DuQuesne glared at him. Carl held up a hand to forestall the expected outburst. “It’s only been a week. The Arena’s huge. No one’s giving up yet.”
“Perhaps you’re correct,” Naraj said carefully, “but do we have an idea of how long we should wait before . . . considering the possibility that there is no longer any point in waiting? And what we should do if that eventuality occurs?”
Laila frowned, but nodded. “You know he’s right. We have to at least think about it. If she is gone . . .”
“Then this Faction has no Leader,” Ni Deng finished. “And without a Faction Leader, a Faction’s crippled. If we don’t select a new Leader, the Arena may pick one for us, as you and Captain Austin once mentioned.”
And the subject is exactly the one you would want raised quickly, Simon thought. He tried to dispel the wrong kind of tension. I should not be tense in anticipation. I have to be upset, worried, shocked, not tense as though waiting. I am . . . not truly suited for these kind of games. He noticed Oasis looking at him oddly for a moment. She beat a Hyperion on her own, she speaks with DuQuesne and Wu as equals. I suppose she may also have perceptions to rival theirs. But I don’t think she’s one of our enemies.
In the tension, he felt . . . a hint of that edge, that perception of his own coming back. He had a faint sense of interconnection, of data behind the ordinary, of knowing things that might be, things that had been.
DuQuesne glowered at the two diplomats, then sank back with one of his old-fashioned and obscure curses. “Right. Okay. But you’ve dropped it on us without warning, give a guy a chance to take it all in before you ask him to think about . . . stuff like that.”
It’s no secret that DuQuesne—and I—are extremely interested in Ariane Austin, so I am sure they’ll interpret that appropriately.
Simon suddenly felt a sense of connections drawing tight, of probabilities on the rise. Oh . . . I think . . .
“Very well,” Oscar Naraj said. “You are correct, we should give you some courtesy in this. Come on, Michelle, Oasis . . . whatever the situation, we still have people to meet with.” He got up, and the other two rose. “The Geros have a most interesting—”
As he reached the door, it slid open.
Standing framed in the doorway was Captain Ariane Austin.
The sensation had warned Simon, primed him to be watching with keen attention at that very moment. So he saw Ni Deng’s eyes widen and her face grow pale, saw her take a half step back. Her expression was, for a moment, not at all joyful or relieved, but fearful. Naraj’s . . . was subtle. There was a flicker, a start, perhaps, but even with this almost supernatural perception Simon could not swear that there was anything wrong with Oscar Naraj’s reaction to the sudden, unexpected appearance of the missing woman.
Oasis, on the other hand, seemed to light up, as did everyone else there. “Ariane!”
Her smile lit the room. “Sorry to keep you all waiting!”
The others lunged forward, crowding Naraj and Ni Deng back, and for a few moments there were just happy greetings, hugs, and slightly tearful laughter. “But where were you, Arrie?” Gabrielle demanded.
“Hold on a moment,” she said with a smile. “Ambassadors, don’t you want to hear this?”
“Knowing you are back is more than enough for now,” Naraj said with a very convincing smile. “Once we’re back from our current appointment, though, I will insist you tell me everything.”
“Oh, but Ambassadors, I insist you stay and listen,” Ariane said. “Wu, make sure they stay.”
The Hyperion Monkey King suddenly popped into view. “You heard Captain Austin. Come on, sit down.”
Oasis twitched as her two charges were dragged back, but didn’t try to stop Wu. Knows that it would be a hopeless attempt, and probably assumes Ariane has a reason for what she’s doing.
“What do you think you’re—”
“Shut up and listen, Oscar. I’d really like to think you’re not involved, but I doubt it.”
“Involved? Involved in what?” The look of complete confusion was, Simon had to admit, either genuine or the product of a masterful actor who had clearly missed his true calling.
“In striking a deal with the Blessed to have me kidnapped, interrogated, and presumably eventually killed, thereby clearing away my inconvenient leadership of our faction, in exchange for their alliance with Humanity.”
Ni Deng stared at her, as did Oscar Naraj, mouths open and stunned. “What? That’s . . . insane!” Ni Deng said sharply.
Oscar Naraj, more controlled and canny, gestured for her to be silent. “These are . . . well, yes, perhaps insane, but certainly most serious charges, Captain. I trust you have evidence—perhaps some of these abductors?”
“I’m afraid all the abductors are very dead, Oscar,” she answered with a cold smile. Simon noticed Ni Deng blanch again.
“Then I think we shall be going—”
Wu Kung shoved Oscar back into his seat with effortless power. “You’ll stay right where I put you!”
“You’re making a terrible mistake, Captain—”
“You,” she cut him off, “are making two mistakes. First, I don’t need evidence here in the Arena. As Faction Leader, I’m the boss. I don’t think you’ve ever really gotten that through your head. If I want to throw you out on the street, I can do that. Yes, you could go back home and make me very much persona non grata, but there isn’t one damned thing you can do to me here. That’s what it means to be a Faction Leader.
“But the bigger mistake is assuming that just because I haven’t got any of the abductors that I don’t have any evidence.”
Another figure appeared in the doorway, this one looming nearly seven feet tall, green-and-black patterned body, near-human face, with head-crests that almost brushed the top of the doorway. “Indeed, Captain Austin,” said Sethrik. “And after the conversation I just had with Michelle Ni Deng, I can assure you that I can provide you with ample evidence.”
CHAPTER 44
Ni Deng’s mouth opened, then shut. Yeah, you aren’t stupid, DuQuesne thought. If you were home, it’d be time to find a good human-AI advocate and prep for trial. And Ariane’s still going to follow some of the procedure, so maybe you will get a chance to lawyer up.
Under his dark skin, Naraj was noticeably paler. “Sethrik . . .” He blinked. “But . . . many pardons for my confusion . . . such a deal would have to include you, would it not?”
“It is not so simple a situation,” Sethrik said, then looked to Ariane. “But we are in your Embassy, and your rules. What do you wish from me?”
“Just summarize the conversation for now. We’ll want the full recording, of course.”
Michelle Ni Deng looked like she was about to speak, but Ariane cut her off. “Before you even think about saying anything, you should know I was in the Blessed Faction House, with Sethrik’s permission. I got to hear the start of your conversation, so there isn’t any decent argument that any of what he has to say is faked.” Ariane nodded to Sethrik.
The Blessed Leader bob-bowed to the table of mostly shell-shocked humans. “I had—as we previously discussed, Captain Austin—determined that my second in command Vantak had been given covert instructions by the Minds to negotiate, as you say, behind my back. The entire sequence of events had been arranged by him with a particular member of your group, who was never clearly identifed in Vantak’s shipboard notes. However, following protocols of contact I found in our Faction House in his quarters, I contacted someone—who proved to be Ambassador Ni Deng—and informed her that I had returned and all was in order, and she could visit me at any time.
“Deputy Ambassador Ni Deng promptly came to our Faction House; she expressed some surprise that it was I, not Vantak, meeting her, but I mentioned to her that the Minds had completed my readjustment and she was obviously aware of both what that meant, and that I was intended to remain Leader of the Blessed To Serve. She inquired as to whether there had been any problems, and I said that Wu Ku
ng had been disposed of between Spheres. She was not particularly upset by that news, and simply wanted assurance that the Blessed would abide by the conditions of the bargain, which I assured her we would—to wit, providing a direct alliance against the Molothos, who will certainly be discovering the location of your Sphere soon enough, and supporting Humanity in certain other areas. She was very pleased to hear this.”
DuQuesne could see Ni Deng trying to maintain an expressionless demeanor, but she wasn’t quite as good as Oscar Naraj at playing this sort of poker, and there were small but visible reactions to the revelations. Admittedly, this is about as high-stakes as any game gets; I wouldn’t expect her to pull it off perfectly.
Sethrik looked at Ni Deng. “To her . . . minor credit, she did express concern for Captain Austin’s overall well-being and a, I believe, genuine desire that she not suffer. There was no indication of personal animus in these actions, and I believe, based on the actual dialogue today and recorded in Vantak’s files, that—while personal advancement was certainly part of her motivation—she was also strongly motivated by an honest belief that Captain Austin was not the right Leader for Humanity, was potentially dangerous to Humanity’s chances for success in the long term, and would not easily give up the position as Leader to anyone properly suited for it.”
“Here,” he said, putting a small crystal in Ariane’s hand. “A full recording of our conversation, plus a record of everything regarding this . . . regrettable sequence of events that I have been able to glean from the records Vantak and his subordinates have left.”
“Thank you, Sethrik.” She performed the standing bob-bow of respect to the Blessed, then turned to the others. “Would you all agree I have sufficient evidence to arrest Michelle Ni Deng?”
The others nodded—even, after a moment, Oscar Naraj. Oasis’ face was dark, flushed with anger, and DuQuesne could tell she was barely able to keep from exploding. Probably beating herself up over missing it. But if you play the part long enough, you become the part, I sure know that—and in this case, since Oasis is just as real as K . . . it’s not just playing. And Ni Deng was real good at this, just not quite perfect at hiding her reactions when it’s falling apart.
“Wu,” she said, “Take Ni Deng and lock her up in the room we agreed on.”
Ni Deng looked with an almost pleading expression at Naraj; Naraj simply stared at her with horror—either genuine, or the best acting job I’ve ever seen—and shook his head slowly. She stood as Wu approached. “I . . . won’t resist. Let me walk, at least.”
Wu Kung did not reply, just let her walk ahead of him and out the door.
After the door closed, DuQuesne looked at Sethrik. “One question, Sethrik: was there anything in that collection of evidence that shows that she wasn’t acting on her own?”
“No direct evidence I have seen, no,” Sethrik said. “She did imply she had to at least consult with . . . someone, but the phrasing was such that she could have meant someone else here, or someone else in your home system.”
Damn. And she was handling a lot of the diplomatic messaging traffic. So she could have been doing this all on her own.
“I can’t blame you for the question,” Naraj said slowly. “And I will accept that my . . . hostility, not to mince words . . . towards Captain Austin’s position may well have driven her to this, but I hope you understand that I would never have directed she undertake something so terrible. This is not the way political issues should be settled; I admit to also being somewhat disappointed that the Blessed would agree to such a thing with so little to gain.”
Yeah. So little, like the potential to become the only AIs running in the Arena. But . . . I’ll bet Ni Deng wasn’t told about that angle.
Ariane looked at Naraj coldly, and DuQuesne could see that she hadn’t dropped the diamond-hard focus she was going to need in this job. For a moment, no one spoke; then Ariane said, “Oscar, I would love to believe that. But I know your reputation from Saul Maginot, and I’ve watched your own behavior. Maybe you had nothing to do with it at all, maybe you had a vague suspicion and just turned a blind eye to it, or maybe you knew all along and just made sure you had plausible deniability after asking ‘will no one rid me of this troublesome captain?’ as DuQuesne put it a while ago. But I damn well have enough reason to . . . what’s the phrase . . . hold you for questioning. I’ve got a lot of things to say to the others, and you aren’t going to be present.”
Wu Kung stepped back inside, and Ariane gestured to him. “Wu, take him to his quarters. He’s to stay inside until I give permission otherwise.” She raised her voice. “Arena! I, Ariane Austin, Leader of Humanity, specifically and officially revoke any privileges of Oscar Naraj or Michelle Ni Deng to speak for Humanity in any capacity whatsoever, unless and until I choose otherwise. If possible, I would like that to include preventing them from using your communications methods to contact any outside of this Embassy.”
The penetrating, air-shaking voice answered, “Acknowleged. No Arena communications by the two designated individuals to any outside of this Embassy.”
Wu left with a brooding Oscar Naraj, and the room was silent for a few moments; it was clear that Ariane was waiting for Wu to return.
The door opened, and Wu Kung came back in; he positioned himself near Ariane as Ariane finally sat down.
“So,” Carl said after a moment. “What exactly do we want to charge Ni Deng with? And . . . how are we going through with it?”
“Hold that thought a moment,” Ariane said. She nodded to Sethrik. “This is about to become purely Humanity’s business, Sethrik—although I may require you as a witness at some point, depending on how we approach this whole mess.”
A deep bob-bow of acknowledgement. “Of course, Captain. I will be leaving momentarily—”
A chime. “Orphan of the Liberated seeks entrance.”
“Come in, Orphan,” Ariane said, looking slightly surprised. She continued speaking into the green sphere that had materialized when she spoke. “We’re in the central conference room.”
“Thank you, Captain Austin,” said Orphan’s rich, deep voice from the comm sphere. “I am proceeding there as we speak.”
“What brings you here, Orphan? I didn’t call for you and—no offense—we are in the middle of an important meeting here. And come to think of it, I thought you were going to be leaving about now.”
The door opened and the comm spheres disappeared. Orphan bowed to all of them, with a special nod to both Simon and DuQuesne. “Of course, Captain Austin. But in fact I was asked to drop in by Sethrik, before I did in fact depart.” He turned to look at the Leader of the Blessed.
Sethrik dropped to the full formal pushup-bow and remained in the low position. “Orphan of the Liberated, I have asked you to meet here, on neutral ground, to offer myself as a member of your Faction,” he said. The translated voice was shaking, clearly in conflict, in emotional tension that was nearly as great as he had shown during the decisions as to how to deal with the remaining crew of Thilomon.
Well, I’ll be jiggered. I wondered if it might eventually shake out that way, but I didn’t expect it quite this fast.
Orphan stiffened, giving a buzz that didn’t translate except as a gasp of surprise. “I . . . Sethrik, you do realize what you are asking? What you commit to?”
Sethrik had still not raised himself from the floor, and DuQuesne rose so he could see better; the others, too, had risen, realizing what was happening here.
“I do,” Sethrik said, and his voice steadied slightly. “If I am of the Liberated, I become the adversary of the Minds, the willing and active opposition to all the Blessed to Serve. I . . . betray our people, our leaders, our traditions . . . for the sake of what I believe now is right.”
Orphan slowly bent down, then placed himself in the pushup-bow position, bowed and rose. “Please, get up, Sethrik. Either way, we are equals.”
The Leader of the Blessed rose slowly to face Orphan. Orphan seemed torn; finally he spoke. �
��I can not deny how very important—how terribly important—such an offer is to me—to the Liberated. But I imagine how wonderful, too, it could be to have an ally within the Blessed . . .”
Sethrik tapped his hands together. “Yes, it would be, Orphan. But you know—you all know, now—that at best it could be temporary. And in the current state, I am sure I would be removed within weeks. Better, I think, to leave of my own will.” He looked to Ariane and the others. “I have sent your . . . communication to the Minds, along with my own . . . commentary on these events. So my last necessary duty is finished.”
“Then, Sethrik, I accept you with joy into the ranks of the Liberated—such as they are,” Orphan finished with ironic humor. His voice became more gentle. “I remember . . . the day I made that decision. I know how it tears at you now, and will, for many days, for many nights.
“But at least you—and I—will not be alone.”
Sethrik and Orphan exchanged the two-handed greeting DuQuesne had seen a few times before, and then Sethrik raised his head. “Then, Arena, I hereby vacate the position of Leader of the Blessed to Serve, delegating temporary responsibility for all such functions to Tanglil, currently the next in authority at the Faction House of the Blessed, until the Minds properly and duly designate and announce a successor. I announce my intention to join the Liberated as a member of their Faction.”
“And I, Orphan, Leader of the Liberated, accept Sethrik as one of our own. He is a member of the Liberated.”
Once more, the Arena spoke. “Transfer of authority completed. The one called Sethrik of the Blessed is now Sethrik of the Liberated.”
And Orphan is no longer completely orphaned. He’s found a companion in that journey. DuQuesne glanced over to Wu and Oasis, and saw the understanding and fellowship there. With a grin on his face, he began to clap.
The others joined in, and for a few moments the room was filled with applause. And by their reactions, it’s being translated to something similar for the Liberated.
