Eternity's End

by Jeffrey Carver

  The law? Legroeder wondered. At DeNoble, the law meant the autocratic rule of pirate bosses, with fear as the strongest motivator, and favoritism the next strongest. Would this be any different?

  He followed the guard through the screen and found himself in a small anteroom facing—what? A receptionist? It was a woman—apparently—whose face was a chrome mask grafted onto a natural head, with tightly curled red hair. She had seemingly normal human limbs, but a torso of articulated metal. She sat on a swiveling stool, surrounded by suspended holograms of faces and incomprehensible designs. Most of the holos appeared to be rotating, or changing too quickly for Legroeder's eye to follow. The woman was turning back and forth, touching one holo after another. Each twinkled as she touched it, and she seemed to be subvocalizing at a tremendous rate of speed. What was she doing? Legroeder wondered.

  The guard made a soft, guttural sound. For a moment, there was no response, as the woman continued with her silent conversations. Then the holos winked out, and she suddenly focused her attention on the people before her. "The new arrival?" she asked, her voice metallic and high pitched.

  "Yes, Ma'am," the soldier said, and stepped back.

  The woman looked at Legroeder. "State your name."

  Legroeder froze, thoughts racing. What the hell name had he been ID'd under?

  // Is there a problem? //

  "Legroeder," said the woman. "Is that your name?"

  (Did you ID me as Legroeder, for chrissake?)

  There was a momentary hesitation in the system; he imagined the implants blinking at each other disconcertedly. //We presented the options. You didn't specify another name.//

  Legroeder tried to recall the moment, but everything had been chaos. (You didn't include a picture with that ID, did you?)

  // That is the normal procedure.// And then, with what might have been a hint of contrition, //Should we not have?//

  (What picture did you use?)

  // We took it from your memories.//

  His heart sank as he saw his own mental image of himself. It was, of course, Legroeder as he had seen himself most of his life—as he had appeared before Com'peer and the Narseil med techs had remade his features. As he had appeared at DeNoble.

  "What's the matter?" said the half-metal woman. "Your ID says Renwald Legroeder."

  "Um—yes."

  "And you have just arrived from a mission with one of the affiliates?"

  "Yes, that's right." His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. "Kyber affiliates."

  The woman's two eyes pulsed in alternating waves of intensity. Her gaze flicked for a moment to a new holo, another point of attention; it flicked back. "I didn't think you meant Narseil affiliates. You just turned in a shipful of Narseil infiltrators. Is that correct?"

  Not trusting himself to speak, Legroeder nodded.

  "Good. Then you will be seen for debriefing." Her glance shifted to the lead guard. "Take him in."

  The guard gestured to Legroeder to circle around the receptionist, leaving the other two guards to wait. A whole new set of holos sprang up around the woman, who appeared to have already forgotten Legroeder.

  A glowing doorway appeared behind the receptionist, and they passed through it into a darkened space. It was a room lit only by the glow of consoles—a great many consoles, lining the circumference of the room, and the ceiling, as well. Some displayed data, others holo-images. In the center of the room was a high-backed swivel chair, turned partly away from the door. Legroeder could just make out a woman in the chair, scanning a bank of consoles. A faint spatter of light seemed to flicker in the air in front of her.

  The guard hesitated—and finally Legroeder himself cleared his throat. Before he could speak, a voice broke the silence. "You may leave him with me and return to your post." It was a female voice, but electronically distorted. He thought it was the voice of the woman in the chair, but it came through speakers around the room.

  The guard nodded, turned, and left the room hurriedly.

  "Step forward."

  Legroeder circled around to approach her from the front.

  The woman in the chair was more human looking than the receptionist, but also more startling. She seemed to have all the normal human body parts—but her face was alight, sparkling with fire. At first he thought it was all reflections from the consoles; then he realized it was coming from her face—rather like a dance-floor laser, spinning out dazzling rays faster than the eye could follow. At first he could not see her actual eyes; then she turned her head and he saw a pair of smoldering embers. He shivered, before realizing that she was wearing some kind of clear mask on her face, and that was the source of the dazzling light and glowing eyes.

  Legroeder started to speak, but the woman raised a hand, pressing it against thin air. Her other hand was busy manipulating something on the left arm of her chair. "You are Renwald Legroeder?" she said after a moment.

  "Yes."

  "I'm Tracy-Ace/Alfa. I've been expecting you."

  Expecting me?

  She leaned forward, staring at him. "Correct me if I am wrong. It is my understanding that you have come to us, indirectly, from an affiliate Kyber settlement. And that you were—what was the word?—a 'plant' aboard the Narseil ship that encountered Flechette. Are those facts correct?"

  // That is how you were ID'd,// his implants informed him.

  "Yes," Legroeder answered.

  "You look different from your ID photo." Half question, half accusation.

  He stiffened. "Yes, I—" He hesitated, then decided that the truth might be as good a cover as a lie. "The Narseil made some changes to my appearance, to conceal my previous identity in case of capture. I'd... persuaded them that I'd joined their cause."

  Her eyes glowed brighter. "And had you?"

  Legroeder's face burned. "They think so."

  "Explain."

  "I was aboard a Narseil vessel, purportedly to help them defeat the Kyber in battle. I didn't really think they would; in fact, I expected we would be captured. But once the Narseil defeated Flechette, I persuaded them to try to penetrate your facility, to gain intelligence."

  Tracy-Ace/Alfa studied him for a moment. "And did you?"

  "What?"

  "Penetrate our facility? Before sounding the alarm, I mean."

  Legroeder frowned, and waggled his hand noncommittally.

  "I see," said Tracy-Ace/Alfa. "Does that mean a lot, or a little?"

  "A little," Legroeder said, with a shrug. "I tried to make a good show of it—and I pretty much coerced your Rigger Deutsch into going along with me—but I really didn't know my way around. We didn't get anything that was very heavily guarded."

  Tracy-Ace/Alfa's face sparkled. "I see. I'll accept that for the moment." Though the mask on her face was clear, it was impossible to interpret her expression. "I understand that your H'zzarrelik took quite a toll on our ship. A dreadnought, it was supposed to be. Were you unable to... shall we say, temper the Narseil counterattack?"

  He turned his hands palm up. "How could I? I was posing as a member of their crew. If I had turned against them in battle, they would have killed me at once." He hesitated. Perhaps it was time to put in a plug for his friends. "They are, I must say, excellent fighters."

  Shots of light came from her eyes. "Are they, now? You can tell me more, in our full debriefing later. But in view of the disastrous mission of Flechette—good Lord, brought in as a captive of the Narseil, all but one of our crew dead or taken by the enemy—we come to the fact that you seem to have been something of a hero."

  He started to speak, but his voice caught. This was what his ID was supposed to convey, yes?

  She cocked her head slightly, and continued, "Against all odds, you brought us a captive Narseil crew. And before they could do too much harm at the docking station, you managed to alert us through the intelnet—thereby saving us untold costs. Fair statement?"

  He cleared his throat, amazed that his cover story appeared to be working—though he still wond
ered what had really set off the alarm. He shrugged. "It was all pretty confusing, to be honest. I wouldn't want to take more credit than I was due. But I—hope that my actions were helpful."

  "You not only captured the Narseil, you thwarted their attempt at espionage."

  "I suppose so," he admitted. In his head, he felt a circle of crimson light expanding like a ripple on a pond. The implants hastened to reassure him, // You are only confirming what we implied in the traces we left.//

  (Right. It's okay.) He felt dizzy. Was it okay? He wasn't contradicting information already in the intelnet; that was the important thing.

  "We'll have to decide later on the proper disposition of the Narseil prisoners," Tracy-Ace/Alfa continued, an unreadable shimmer moving across her face. "Execution... or whatever. After interrogation, of course."

  Legroeder drew a slow breath; he was certain she was watching him for any sign of reaction. "I'm sure," he said carefully, "that they can prove valuable as prisoners."

  "No doubt," she said. "Meanwhile—for our planning purposes—I need to learn what you can tell me about the Narseil and their treachery. Then, if your debriefing is satisfactory, I will arrange for you to be integrated into our world here."

  Integrated? he thought grimly. Or assimilated? But that's what he was here for, wasn't he? To gain information. And how better to do it? He felt the implants suppressing his involuntary shiver.

  He thought he heard a cold chuckle. The flickering on Tracy-Ace/Alfa's face began to subside, along with the coal-fire glow of her eyes. "Renwald Legroeder," she said softly, and this time the voice seemed to come from her mouth rather than speakers around him. "I think we can speak face to face." Her natural voice was strong, though mild in comparison to the reverb she'd been using until now.

  She reached up and gripped both sides of her face mask, pushing it up and over the top of her head. She blinked her real eyes for a moment and peered at Legroeder. Without the mask, she looked like a fairly normal young woman: with human skin of a pale tan hue, eyes, nose, mouth. Her eyes flared green, just for an instant, before she shifted her head, putting them in shadow. Her face was bejeweled with augments: an array of tiny ones clustered around the outer corners of her eyes, and slightly larger ones stretched back like gemstones along her temples.

  Legroeder blinked, his breath catching. He was staring; he glanced away for a moment, then back. There was a hard-edged look to the young woman, and yet in a way, she was curiously attractive. There was a chameleonlike quality to her eyes, her mouth, her entire face. Every little movement seemed to reveal a different quality: one moment, an inquisitor; the next, a potential ally in finding his way in this strange place; the next, something more personal, a... what? Friend?

  Don't be an idiot.

  "In case you think I trust you a little too much," Tracy-Ace/Alfa said casually, "you should be aware that there are no fewer than twelve security lasers focused on the interior of this chamber. All under my direct control."

  "Ah," he said, keeping his voice equally casual. "Well—pleased to meet you, Tracy-Ace/Alfa."

  She produced a wry smile and leaned forward in her chair to shake his hand. Her grip was wiry and strong. "You may call me Tracy-Ace."

  "Tracy-Ace," he echoed. "Is Alfa your last name?"

  "Alfa is my node designation." She gestured with one hand toward the profusion of consoles and God-knew-what arrayed around the room.

  "Then" he said carefully, "it is through this node, Alfa, that you connect to the intelnet? And through that you—?"

  Tracy-Ace laughed, a short bark.

  Legroeder swallowed the rest of his question. "What did I say?"

  "I do not connect through node Alfa," Tracy-Ace said. "I am node Alfa. It is a part of my being, and without me, that portion of the intelnet would not exist."

  Legroeder absorbed that in silence. A part of the intelnet...

  // It is a logical extension. If you wished, we could help to expand you in the direction of such capabil—"//

  He cut off the inner voice with an image of a hand closing into a fist.

  "If we have been sufficiently introduced," Tracy-Ace said, "then let's go complete a proper interview. But not here, I think. Are you hungry?"

  Legroeder started. This wasn't quite what he'd expected.

  "Although we have no insect life here, I suggest that you close your mouth," Tracy-Ace said with dry sarcasm. She stepped out of her high-backed chair. He saw for the first time that she was dressed in black sim-leather pants and tunic, with various belts and attachments in silver. Her black hair was clipped with bangs in front, and to the mid neck in back. He was startled by her height, a good three centimeters taller than he was. "All right," she said with a shrug. "But don't blame me for what you swallow." She beckoned him as she turned and strode toward a door on the far side of the room.

  Legroeder closed his mouth and followed.

  * * *

  Tracy-Ace led him down a deserted corridor lined with a panoramic holo of the open Flux. It was a far broader view of the outpost than he had seen from the ship's net: a sprawling array of glowing and shadowy structures, each apparently separate, but joined together by a spiderweb of luminous, arcing threads that looked more like thought than matter.

  Legroeder paused, squinting. He thought he saw movement in those threads, but couldn't be sure. He recalled what Deutsch had told him, about maintainers who kept the outpost anchored and stabilized in the Flux. A swarm of questions rose in his thoughts, but Tracy-Ace was already gesturing impatiently.

  "Sandwich and murk okay?" Tracy-Ace asked, turning a corner away from the view.

  Murk? Moke? He suddenly realized how hungry he was. "Uh, sure," he said. "Fine. Um, where are we going to do the debriefing?"

  She glanced back at him, without breaking stride. "Well, we can do it in an inquisitor's cell, with the truth enhancements of your choice—" she paused as he scowled "—or we can do it in a joe shop I like. Which would you prefer?"

  He wondered if she was mocking him. He decided to treat it as a straight question. "Given that choice, I'd prefer the latter."

  "So would I. Here it is."

  They turned another corner and were suddenly walking along a row of small shops—with people moving about, in and out of storefronts. The joe shop was third on the left. Through the door, it was dark; and as Legroeder's eyes adjusted, he saw that it was also dingy and nearly empty. Tracy-Ace chose a booth off to the right, three steps up from the main floor. She slid onto a bench seat facing the entrance, and motioned him into the other.

  Legroeder glanced around. What a strange place this outpost was, nothing like the stronghold of DeNoble. That had been more like a military encampment, with a large population of prisoners. This seemed a real city, for people with human needs. And yet, evidence remained that it was a pirate stronghold. Here and there, he had noticed electronic monitors winking out of recesses in walls. Nearly everyone he'd seen was visibly fitted with augmentation, and many of them carried sidearms. Judging from this joe shop, creature comforts were minimal, but not altogether absent. There was only one other person in the shop, a man sitting in the shadows near the back.

  Legroeder faced Tracy-Ace across the table. "Do you mind if I ask a question?" he said, placing his hands on the table.

  Tracy-Ace waited, silent.

  "Why bring me here for a debriefing?"

  "Why? Isn't it good enough?"

  "I don't mean that. But it seems more... informal... than I expected." To put it mildly.

  Tracy-Ace seemed to be assessing him. "Let's just say, I like to get a personal sense of people before I download."

  "Download?"

  "Put out your hands," Tracy-Ace said. "Palms up." As he turned his hands, Tracy-Ace examined them, then grunted in dissatisfaction. Her own palms glittered with connectors. "How the hell do you do it?" She looked up at his face, then leaned sideways to inspect his temples. "There?"

  "Do wh—?" he began, and then realized what she w
as talking about. "This isn't going to be verbal—?"

  "Verbal? For a debriefing?" She peered at him incredulously, with silver-green eyes. "Why in blazes would we talk, instead of downloading?"

  His face burned, as he realized that he was doing a poor job of impersonating a Kyber. He decided, again, to tell the truth—part of it. "Sorry. I'm not used to all this."

  Tracy-Ace's eyebrows went up. "What the hell do you do with those augments, then?"

  "Well, I didn't have them at the other outpost. I got them from the Narseil, so I'd fit in with their crew. I haven't quite mastered them yet."

  Tiny lights flickered at the corners of her eyes. "So you're not prepared to give me the download?"

  "Uh—" He focused inward. (Can we?)

  // Certainly. We'll be ready in a moment.//

  "Yes," he said uneasily. "I can do it."

  Tracy-Ace looked vaguely relieved. "All right. Where shall I connect?"

  // Ask her to wait a moment longer. We're preparing something.//

  Legroeder blinked, raised a finger to ask Tracy-Ace to wait, then thought: What's that tingling in my arms? Now it was in the palms of his hands.

  "Where shall I connect?" she repeated impatiently.

  "Sorry. One second." Legroeder focused inward. (Are you making connectors in my goddamn hands?) He saw an interior image of a glowing red ribbon snaking, branching, reaching out into a skeletal hand; suddenly it turned green.

  // Yes. Try making contact, hand to hand. //

  (How the hell did you do that?)

  // We simply directed the microrobots.//

  The microrobots! For godsake, were they still in his body?

  Tracy-Ace was scowling. "Look, if you can't—"

  Legroeder took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm ready." He opened and closed his hands a few times, then stretched them out, palms up. "Let's give it a try."

  Tracy-Ace looked at him curiously, then placed her palms onto his. "All right?"

  He blinked, with a heightened awareness of her touch. A few minutes ago, she'd touched him; but this time it was different. A tingle of his inner senses...