“Your son?” I asked. I was sure she wouldn’t respond, but to my surprise she sighed heavily.
“Yes. Jamel was a gentle boy, intelligent but reckless. He wanted to impress his father and me. We were both Guild, of course. I didn’t want him to share in our sort of life, but he was a boy and wanted to act the part of a man, or what he thought was a man. He was killed during a Guild op.
“The curious thing is that I didn’t kill anyone on the team he was with. There didn’t seem to be a point.
“His father left me after that. And I filled my time with collecting objects, having lost my people. Beautiful objects, rare things, secrets that no one else had. Things I could hold on to forever.”
“You want me to be understanding?” I said. “Want me to forgive you for trying to kill me? I will. Forgive you for what else you’ve done? That’s beyond me. Just as it is beyond me to forgive myself for what I did in the skies over my homeworld, or for the further cowardice I showed with Dusko.”
She sat back in her chair. “Then is there no redemption for either of us?”
“No,” I said. “There are too many sins on my head for me to be free. To be the man that Jaelle deserves. I can be Maauro’s friend because she will never really need me. I can’t fail her because she is complete in herself.”
“Someone who needs no one… that could either be heaven or hell,” Ferlan said. “I have never been that free.”
“No. You and I have just lost our people.”
“Yes,” she said. “And maybe we did not deserve them.”
We sat silently in the dimness of her study. “Good night, Wrik.”
I rose and placed the expensive cup down. “Good night, Madame Ferlan.”
The guards took me back to my cell.
***
The following morning a guard brought me to the bridge. As usual, Marcel and Ferlan were there. I didn’t know if they shared watches, or if she just always had the ape-man attend on her.
“Good morning, Wrik,” Ferlan said with her practiced smile. “There are coffee and cakes on the salver.” She gestured to an ornate silver service on a nearby nav console.
“This jail does have the best coffee I’ve ever had,” I replied, walking over and helping myself from a heavy pot. I wondered how long ago it had been made and when it fell into her hoard. For all its luster, it was obviously well-used. Ferlan didn’t simply acquire things—she used her collection.
Marcel gave me that sidelong glance that meant he was displeased with my flippancy with his boss.
“Don’t be peevish,” Ferlan admonished. “Today is a big day. We have sailed in companionship with your dear Maauro for several days now, searching for the Artifact. She’s a clever girl. My ship is faster, but the Guildrunner you stole can easily out-accelerate us. I would burn too much fuel in a conventional chase to be worthwhile. I believe the expression is ‘a stern chase is a long chase.’ I also suspect that she can freely strain her ship’s AG field to where ours would overload, smashing us poor biologicals to paste. So she judges her distance to a nicety and watches us. Nor is she inclined to chat, we have called, but she does not answer.
“Of course you were not on the bridge then. Shall we call your little friend? Do you wish to see her?”
I tried to hide my reaction behind the coffee cup.
Ferlan smiled. “I thought so. Very well, we shall call. Please don’t become unduly excited. I would not want the call to end unpleasantly.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“Communications, put a call through to the Stardust. Tell Maauro that Wrik is with us.”
A few seconds passed while the call was routed. Suddenly Maauro was there on the main screen. Seeing her was so overwhelming I couldn’t have said anything if I wanted to. I hadn’t really thought much about it before, but Maauro was beautiful, with her delicate features, the heart-shaped face surrounded by her blue-black hair, tied as always with the yellow silk ribbon I’d bought her. But it was the eyes that arrested your gaze, huge and blue-green like a gentle sea.
“Wrik,” she said, in her high girlish voice, “it is good to see you. Are you injured? Have you been mistreated?”
I got myself under control though I knew my voice would be hoarse. “I’m fine, Maauro. Fine, and happier to see you than words can carry.” Jaelle was nowhere to be seen and I was glad. At least she was safe from this madness.
Ferlan stood and walked to stand next to me, staring in wonder at Maauro. “Such a machine! She almost looks alive. How incredible to talk to an entity over 50,000 years old. She is everything you said she would be.”
A sick feeling of betrayal surged through me. I didn’t even know all I had spilled under interrogation, but I doubted there was anything I knew about her that their drugs hadn’t drawn out of me.
Maauro’s eyes tracked over to the Collector and narrowed, conveying menace in a fashion and degree I had never seen her use before. “You are the Collector.” The beautiful music of her voice vanished. In Maauro, this was anger.
“You may call me Madame Ferlan, or Ferlan, if you wish. You have shown great intelligence and autonomy in finding your way to me.”
“You were not difficult to find.”
“Perhaps not for a machine…a being like yourself,” Ferlan conceded. “In truth, I was never sure if I was better off with you here or not.”
“You are better off not incurring my hostility for intruding into my network,” Maauro said flatly.
“Ah, I believe you mean Wrik. Well, he is a form of insurance policy for me. You do appear most formidable from all I have learned about you.”
“Fuller demonstrations of my qualities may yet occur,” Maauro said. “You have demands, make them known to me.”
“I wish to find the Artifact.”
“The only information I have on the Artifact was extracted from Guild sources on a space station I destroyed with all its occupants,” Maauro said.
A murmur of dismay ran about the bridge but was quelled by a growl from Marcel.
Ferlan sipped from her china cup then put it on the console. “We believe it is a ship of your ancient enemies. What type of ship, and its purposes, are unknown. It resisted the approach of the Guild ship that found it a century ago. I suspect any closer approach would have met with lethal force. However I am willing to bet that it has ways of recognizing its own—”
“And you have resurrected living Infestors,” Maauro said, with a touch of impatience. “I discovered all this before I destroyed your spacelab. You are most unwise to harbor living Infestors; they are inimical to other lifeforms.”
“Pity about the lab, I might have found it useful in the future. You do seem to be a very dangerous being, Maauro. But, no matter, you doubtless refer to their telempathic ability. We have found ways to shield ourselves from such influence.”
“You have succeeded with three juveniles with unformed and undisciplined minds. You would find adult Infestors of the warrior and scientist class an entirely different matter.”
This seemed to give Ferlan pause. “Perhaps it would be well to combine our efforts. We share a desire to find the Artifact and to be safe from Infestor influence. You clearly have knowledge of these ancient beings that we lack. Beyond that, you are yourself nearly as fascinating a discovery as the Artifact. You are artificial in origin, yet I have no doubt in speaking to you that you are a living being.”
“What is it that you hope to gain from the Artifact, or for that matter from me?”
“The same things I am always seeking,” Ferlan said, “meaning and knowledge. The universe and I play a Great Game. It hides and I seek. I wish to know all the hidden things, the true meanings that are obscured from most eyes. I wish to peek behind the curtain, while God or whatever runs the universe, is decorating the set. I want to see the play behind the play.”
M
aauro cocked her head in a gesture she’d copied from Jaelle. “For what purpose?”
“Oh, there is wealth and power in the Artifact, but I have sufficient of both to protect my existence and guarantee my comfort. No, the knowledge, the discovery, even the quest—these are their own purposes,” Ferlan paused, perhaps chagrined at the revelations of her own words and returned to her seat. “You might simply say that I am infinitely curious.”
“Our purposes cross, then,” Maauro replied. “I exist to destroy Infestation and my interest in the Artifact is confined to its destruction. As for myself, while eventually I may part with some secrets of my own technology to beings of this time, none of them will be to the Guild.”
“Interesting,” Ferlan said, her lips compressed into a thin line. “For now, may I suggest we confine ourselves to small steps? Our interests align at least until we find the Artifact. Formidable as you are, I doubt you are capable of destroying it by yourself, even if you rammed it with the Stardust. Once the Artifact is found, we can discuss further. I would urge you to consider your friend Wrik’s welfare before you take precipitate action.”
Maauro’s eyes went black suddenly, from lid to lid, as she had first looked when I found her on the asteroid. Everyone on Hummel’s bridge froze. “If you harm Wrik, I will not forgive you. Know now that I mean what I say, exactly as I say it. If Wrik dies, I will hunt down and destroy each and every being on your ship, from you to the engine room wipers. I will kill you all and lay waste to all you value. I will neither tire of this mission, nor feel pity, nor mercy. I am M-7, the supreme accomplishment of my Creator’s science, deathless, unyielding, and created for destruction.”
Even I shuddered. Maauro spoke with a calm conviction far more frightening than anger. Dismayed Guilders turned to Ferlan, who looked disconcerted for the first time since I’d met her.
“Not as much fun being face-to-face with the past as you thought?” I asked.
Ferlan shot me a dark look and I reconsidered being a smart-ass.
“We seem to have reached an impasse,” Ferlan said finally. “I have no wish to harm your Wrik, but will not tolerate your interfering with me. If you will not serve me, then you must stay out of my way.”
“I obey only my imperative to destroy Infestors. Do not provoke me further. I will destroy this Infestation. Your best course of action is to return to Ebosue. If you leave Wrik there unharmed, I will not pursue you.”
“I cannot accommodate you, Maauro. We are bound for the Artifact. It will be your own actions that govern Wrik’s future. ”
Maauro looked at me and perhaps I alone of all beings could see the sadness in her face.
“Maauro, don’t worry about me. Do what you have to do and look after yourself. I’ll be OK. I’m not being mistreated.”
“Very well, Wrik. As for you, Collector, you have heard my words. Rest assured I will fulfill them all.”
Chapter 25
I return to my perch on the bow of Stardust. Jaelle wisely does not seek to distract or delay me. Outwardly I may appear calm and unchanged. Inside I seethe with fury. My emotions have always seemed pallid to me, faint echoes of what a biological feels, but now, now I know rage. I know the desire to destroy…no, to kill. If I could but board Hummel, it would be emptied of life in minutes. I would tear them all to rags.
Not since I destroyed Lostra have I felt such emotion and this is a tidal wave to that mere breaker. I wish that I could cry tears of rage and somehow release this murderous force beating inside of me. The sight of part of my network, prisoner in enemy hands for weeks, has raised this demon. Wrik has been interrogated and he would reveal all he knows. It is not his fault, this is not his strength. He should not have been placed in such a position. I only hope that they used drugs rather than force so that his self-respect, so tenuous at best, is not entirely destroyed.
But I cannot forget his face. I have been with him long enough to see misery, defeat and shame written on it. So much of what I have tried to rebuild in him is gone.
“I will not forgive them,” I shout into the vacuum of space. I stop in shock, surprised at my loss of control. I am a being of ceramic and metal, yet I feel as if blood is coursing through my brain; my hands ache to...to do what? To rend and tear, or to comfort? What is wrong with me? Am I malfunctioning? I feel as if a loss of control is in the offing, yet I long to give in to that loss.
How dare they touch what is mine! How dare they harm Wrik!
Another abrupt shock strikes me. Have I not mistreated prisoners? Many have died at the hands I look down at. I remember the pain I inflicted on Dusko, the casual way I snapped bones in the Morok captain when we stole Stardust. Beyond that are the countless Infestors I interrogated and destroyed. Countless because I deleted the memories of doing so and truly do not know how many I questioned. Were there others, networked with those I have slain and interrogated, who felt as I do now?
My universe tilts and reorients as I reconsider who and what I am and all my actions in the light of these revelations. Finally, in perhaps only the dimmest sense, I begin to understand why Wrik ejected Dusko in the pod to save both of us from the act of murder.
My examination of these ethical dilemmas is interrupted by a signal. My scanner array has detected a gradient in space, a depression in the fabric of space-time that has no business being there.
I must alert Jaelle. But as my awareness switches to the outside universe again, further shocks await me. I have been in my mind for six hours. This is unprecedented for an M-7 model. Yet it was not a shutdown, nor am I blazing in heat from overdrive. For the first time, like a biological, I have been lost in introspection, aware of the outside universe, yet lost in my thoughts and more particularly in my emotions in real time. And in those hours I have not once given thought to Jaelle, who must be suffering her own fears and pain. Her feelings for Wrik are different from mine, but no less powerful and no less deserving of respect.
“Jaelle,” I call. “Are you all right?”
“Maauro? Maauro, thank the gods you’re talking again. You just walked out of the ship, saying nothing. I didn’t know what to do.”
“Jaelle, I am an appalling excuse for a friend. I have neglected you when you were suffering merely to indulge my own anger for no useful purpose.”
A few moments pass. “It is hard seeing Wrik in their hands. Seeing someone you value used like a commodity, knowing that you’re helpless to protect them and even comfort them.”
Her voice trails off. Jaelle is strong but I realize she has been battling grief alone. Perhaps we would have battled it better had we been together. I realize again how little I understand the life I am living now.
“Please forgive me, for so many things, the most recent of which is leaving you alone.”
“You’re a funny little machine, Maauro. Sometimes you’re quite terrifying. Other times you are as sweet as a kit-sister.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you coming in now?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes, and with news. I think we have found the gravity anomaly that hides the Artifact.” Quickly I reenter the ship, but not so quickly that I fail to return my body temperature to normal. I have cooled in the frigidity of space and when I open the inner airlock, Jaelle embraces me as I expected her to do. I return the touch carefully with my original arm.
I look at her. Her mane is matted and she looks exhausted. “When did you last have food and drink?”
“Later.”
“No. There is time.” I take her by the arm and we go to the galley. While there is no question that she is the superior cook, I am competent with basic compounds. I draw her favorite soft drinks and spiced meats from storage. Vegetables and other foods are quickly added. I turn aside questions until she begins eating. Then I set out to uncurl the snags from the rough hair of her mane. She has done this often with me, though for less purpose as my hair is syntheti
c. Yet Nekoans are soothed by touch, even more than are humans. She finds this ritual relaxing. I take advantage of close contact to monitor her vital signs. I am distressed at what I find.
Our functioning in the network has never been smooth. Our attachment is more through Wrik than to each other, but I realize how important Jaelle has become to me. I have neglected this part of my network. Damage has resulted from this negligence. I monitor Jaelle’s stress and hydration levels as they return closer to normal. I wish there was time for more rest for her but that is not to be.
After she is through eating Jaelle relaxes against me, I raise my body temperature a little more. “So kit-sister, what do we do now?” she asks.
“We are approaching a point of no return. If we proceed into the gravity gradient, there is no telling what will follow.”
She yawns. “We are long past any such.”
“We are fortunate the gravity trace is on our side of the search pattern. The zigzag course the Collector set also serves us well. In two hours, we will be near the outer edge of the zig, when the Collector turns, we will continue, and accelerate to full speed. We will have a great lead over her before she can bring her more unwieldy vessel around. She will be a million kilometers out of position. We will reach the Artifact’s space well ahead of her.”
“We’d better get to the bridge.”
“No, you will use the next two hours to nap. I have already input the course. I do not need to be in the control room to control Stardust.”
“Nap?” Jaelle says. “Don’t be ridiculous. We have preparations to make…weapons to ready…”
“I have long since attended to these things. Recall that I do not need to sleep.”
But the food and drink and the warmth of my surface have had the desired effect. Jaelle’s breathing has lapsed into a regular pattern. Soon she is asleep. I remain motionless for 1 hour and 49 minutes. Then I wake her. Unlike a human, Jaelle does not waken groggy but snaps to wakefulness.
My Outcast State (The Maauro Chronicles Book 1) Page 26
