The Chaos Chronicles

by Jeffrey A. Carver

  The procession moved through the plaza, passing in front of the dome where Bandicut and Ik stood watching. They had been joined by Hargel, the young Neri who had briefly served as their jailor. "They will accompany the fallen out of the city and into the great Sweeping Current, where they will rejoin the circle of the sea," Hargel said.

  "Will they simply float on forever, then?" Ik asked.

  Hargel looked at him with apparent puzzlement, as if he had not understood the question. "Look there," he said, pointing up into the darkness ahead of the procession.

  Movement was visible in the water, but faint, like ghostly impressions, fleeting in the water. "Pikarta," he said. "Spirit carriers."

  Bandicut squinted into the darkness. The quarx momentarily increased his light sensitivity. The room glared painfully around him, but out in the darkness, he caught a glimpse of large white streamlined shapes. "Eaters," he murmured, as the brightness faded again.

  /// Sharks? ///

  /Something like that—/

  Hargel turned his large black eyes for a glance at Bandicut. "Yes." He looked back out, watching the procession pass below them. "They have been drawn to us by an offering."

  "An offering?"

  "Towed by a sub."

  Bandicut shuddered. "And they won't attack . . . prematurely?"

  Hargel made a rippling gesture with his hand. "They usually strike only when there is rapid or violent movement in the water. Or smells of an offering. But the smells are being carried on the current ahead of the procession." Hargel watched the movement of the accompanying swimmers. Many of them were now moving in a kind of ballet around the dead, turning and spiraling and falling through the water.

  /// They are grieving . . . ///

  /Saying farewell,/ Bandicut agreed, and suddenly his heart became full of grief for Charlie-Four, whatever the reasons for his departure, and Charlie-Three not all that long before him, and all the Charlies he had lost to time and death. And he thought of Julie Stone, and of Earth, and it was all he could do to remain standing, one hand on the dome window.

  /// It is good to grieve, I think. ///

  /I suppose./ He wasn't sure that it felt all that good, but there was a comfort in sharing his grief with the sea-people, who sent their fallen out to rejoin the circle of the sea. And, he realized after a moment . . . in sharing with this quarx, with Charlene.

  /// I do share it, ///

  she whispered, and he knew that she meant not just his grief, but her own, for all of the quarx who had gone before, perhaps even for the quarx race itself.

  "Is that," said Ik, "the healer leading the procession?"

  "Yes, that's Corono," said Hargel. "He is our holtoph, our spirit leader. Those who cannot be healed, he leads on the spirit-journey."

  The healer and the procession were soon past Bandicut and his companions, making their way through the habitat clusters and out of the city. "Just beyond the edge of the darkness, where our channeled current rejoins the Sweeping Current, they will set the travelers free."

  They watched in silence, and soon after the last of the procession had disappeared into the undersea mist, the first of those returning reappeared. Bandicut thought he saw a faster movement in the distance, and nudged Charlie into giving him a few moments of heightened sensitivity. The world around him turned bright; he saw a few quick movements of white, before his vision blurred. /Was that—?/

  /// Pikarta striking? I'm not certain . . . ///

  Bandicut thought it was. He looked up and gazed across the plaza at the panorama of habitats. "John Bandicut," he heard Ik say, and he turned to look to his right, toward the next habitat in the cluster that they were a part of. He noticed that others were peering out of domes at the procession, as well. Two of them waved, and it took him several heartbeats to realize that they were Antares and Li-Jared.

  *

  Li-Jared sprang forward, bonging, to meet them, embracing Ik and springing away, then embracing Bandicut. His eyes were alive with fire—two narrow, vertical, almond-shapes of gold, bisected with electric-blue bands. Antares' eyes had their own shimmer of pale gold around black pupils. She was behind Li-Jared, but she ran forward, stones sparkling at her throat with pleasure and welcome. Bandicut threw his arms around her and squeezed her in a long embrace, and only after he'd stepped back, holding her long-fingered hand for a moment, did he quite realize what he'd done. "Damn, am I glad to see you!" he murmured huskily.

  Antares seemed startled, but not displeased by the hug. She radiated a burst of warmth, her mouth crinkling—then, a second later, visibly drew back into her more familiar reserve. "I am very happy to see you, too. Both of you." She turned and squeezed Ik's arm in greeting. "And the robots? Have you heard from them?"

  "They're safe. It was a near thing," Bandicut said. His mind, at that moment, was full of the sensation of Antares pressed against him, and her faintly piney scent. He blinked and shook his mind clear.

  /// I'll have to ask you

  more about these sensations.

  Especially— ///

  /Not—now—/

  Bandicut explained what had happened—and nearly happened— to the robots. "And you two?"

  He and Ik listened as their friends described their meeting with Kailan. "Who is this obliq?" Bandicut asked. "Is she here with you?"

  "Kailan swam with the procession," answered Antares. "I expect we'll be able to rejoin her soon."

  "Along with L'Kell," said Ik.

  "You mean," said Bandicut, "that we can actually relax for a few minutes?" He let out a long, slow sigh. "I don't think I can believe it."

  He heard footsteps behind him just then, and L'Kell's voice. "Have you found each other? Good! I hope you were comfortable watching the procession. Are you ready for a conference?"

  Bandicut opened his mouth and closed it. Approaching behind L'Kell was a taller Neri of slighter build, greenish skin, and very different dress—instead of the harness, a shawl that glittered with gold-colored thread. This Neri—a female?—had two daughter-stones glimmering on the sides of her head. He bowed slightly. "Are you Kailan?"

  "Indeed, and I have heard of your actions on our behalf," said the Neri. "I am pleased to meet you, John Bandicut and Ik. Is it true that your robots might have the ability to repair our factories?"

  Bandicut blinked in surprise. Word traveled fast. "Perhaps," he said.

  "Then let us go where we can speak of such matters," said Kailan.

  *

  What that meant, as it turned out, was adjourning to a large meeting room where no fewer than a dozen Neri could pace endlessly around each other as they talked. It seemed to be the Neri method of holding a conference. Bandicut found it dizzying. It was like trying to talk to a school of fish, weaving back and forth, around and around. The Neri seemed to have significant areas of conflict among themselves, but his proposal had them intrigued. He was starting to wish that he'd kept quiet about it until he was sure.

  "I do not understand this nanotech," Kailan said, waving her hands as she paced. "What is it you mean?"

  Bandicut spread his hands, trying to think how to make it clear. "That's the term we used back on my homeworld, Earth. It means machines smaller than you can see with your eye, almost smaller than you can imagine. It was an important part of our technology—for making things, repairing things, even . . . healing people." He couldn't help wincing a little over that last.

  At the word healing, Askelanda wheeled around, his expression filled with a new intensity. Did he understand the difference between what Bandicut had done in his healing and what was being described now? Or did he regard Bandicut as a kind of alien wizard, who had performed certain services as requested, but now was holding out a little?

  Bandicut tried to explain. "Not like what I did with Lako. That healing—" and as he groped for words he touched his temple, wishing he could touch Charlie and show them "—was different. That was . . . mind to mind. I didn't actually heal; I only helped Lako heal himself. Nanotech is diff
erent. It's machines."

  Askelanda relaxed a little, and continued pacing, while listening.

  "What I'm talking about now," Bandicut continued, "is manufacturing processes, which I think may be similar to what you use in your factory. I'm guessing, please understand—but it sounds right, because of what L'Kell described, about your factory using minerals from the hot vents, and tanks of liquid that objects are made in. I'm betting that your factory uses tiny machines that reproduce themselves rapidly, then work together to turn raw materials into much larger machines." He weaved his head, trying to follow Askelanda and Kailan.

  Askelanda said nothing. But Kailan paused and peered at him with interest.

  "And on my world, those tiny machines are—or were— controlled by programming, much as my robots are." He decided not to mention that he wasn't really sure how much his robots were controlled anymore by their original programming. And as for whatever had taken its place—could he even call that programming? It was more like a life process. "It's difficult to explain, really."

  Kailan said, "We understand . . . programming, I think. Some of us do, anyway—a little. Ochile, we call it." She paced toward Askelanda, and veered away. "We use it in our repairs and modifications. Our—" kraaa "—changers—repair devices—require us to specify the changes we want them to make."

  "Then you do have some knowledge of how these things work," Bandicut said, startled.

  "Very little," she admitted. "The knowledge that produced the changers is lost to us, or at least inaccessible, and we are limited to using the devices as best we can."

  Bandicut took a moment to absorb Kailan's words. "Then your—changers—"

  "Can sometimes heal malfunctions, and sometimes alter machinery from one purpose to another. But their capabilities are limited, and they cannot construct from raw materials," Kailan said.

  "Then," said Ik, "is that what you do with salvaged machinery?"

  "That's right. It's our only way to maintain our surroundings in the absence of new equipment," said Kailan. "And the more equipment is lost, or falls into a state of final disrepair, the more our chances of long-term survival decline."

  "And—" Bandicut swiveled back and forth between Kailan and Askelanda "—who among you actually maintains such knowledge and skill?"

  Askelanda spoke in a rumble. "It is Obliq Kailan and her assistants who maintain the stores of arcane knowledge, and perform most of the technical alterations—while those who serve directly under my authority—"

  /// —meaning the males? ///

  /I think so./

  "—are busy provisioning, and searching out new sources of supplies, and when necessary, occupied with self-defense." Askelanda stretched out his arms. "And with extending our reach and knowledge of our present world."

  "We all," said Kailan, "work at trying to understand what is happening in the world around us. Especially in the abyss."

  Askelanda waved his hands, pacing back and forth. "The obliq feels that I am too focused on keeping the present salvage area open, given the setbacks and losses—despite the growing need for new machinery to maintain our city."

  "That is correct," said Kailan. "It is the Maw of the Darkness that most threatens us." She wheeled back toward Askelanda, arms wide.

  Li-Jared scrambled out of the way, bonging softly. He'd had enough of the pacing. From Antares came a soft sense of: Patience. Have patience.

  "We will not settle that disagreement here," said Askelanda. "But since we have no other hope of repairing our factories, we must consider our visitors' plan to assist us. But we must also protect our salvage areas, which may be our only remaining source of equipment."

  "Quite so," said Kailan. When the senior Neri showed surprise, she said, "Let us hear our guests out."

  "Very well," said Askelanda, turning to Bandicut. "Would you continue?"

  Bandicut glanced at his friends. Antares was swaying slightly back and forth, as if to join in the pacing without actually moving from her spot. Bandicut wanted to scream at them all to stand still, but instead, he drew a breath and said, "My plan was to connect Napoleon and Copernicus to the factory control system—and see if they can determine what has gone wrong."

  "Is this possible?" asked Kailan, peering at him. "They are not even of our world."

  Bandicut shrugged. "That is true. But they have had some experience in joining with machines of alien origin." Though as he said it, he thought: Even on Shipworld, they didn't do anything like this.

  "But surely they cannot rebuild broken factories," said Askelanda. "Can they even function at that depth?"

  "I'm hoping that you can find a way to protect them from the depth," Bandicut admitted. "But no, they would not repair the factory themselves—any more than I repaired Lako when I joined with him. If I understand correctly, your factories are supposed to be able to repair themselves."

  "That was true, until the repair machines broke down," Askelanda said.

  "Then is it not possible that they might be restarted with a programming change?"

  Askelanda paused, staring.

  "If the repair units are self-replicators, and if there are any repair units still intact, the factory might have a chance of repairing itself. It might be that the programming itself has failed, or needs adjustment."

  "Are you certain of this?"

  "Not at all. I'm saying it's possible."

  Askelanda and Kailan exchanged sharp looks and quiet words, then Kailan said, "You give us hope. What we face now is certain death—or undoubted losses, if we attempt to move our people. But even your success with the factory might not be enough."

  "You mean, the Maw?"

  Kailan made a low, murmuring sound. "Whatever happens with the factory, it will still be there. And I'm not certain that we can survive that threat if we stay."

  "Hrrm," said Ik. "Are you saying that it might be necessary to move . . . your entire city? Could you do that?"

  The tension between Kailan and Askelanda became palpable. "Very difficult, and very dangerous," Askelanda said at last. "And without the factory—"

  "Your whole way of life is threatened," murmured Ik.

  /// Unless they learn to manufacture

  what they need themselves. ///

  /No way they could do that in the short term. Not with so much of their life support based on things like those membranes which we don't even understand. That's gotta be nanotech./

  "Nevertheless," said Kailan, "Neri have moved in the past, and we might have to move in the future. Unless—" and she peered at each of the company in turn "—you who come from the stars can find a way to stop the Maw from destroying us."

  /Mokin' foke,/ Bandicut muttered silently. /That's why we're here, isn't it?/

  There was a long silence. Finally Askelanda said, "Let us worry about one thing at a time. John Bandicut, what do you need to enable your robots to attempt this thing?"

  Bandicut drew his thoughts back to the present. "They need to be protected from water and pressure—and somehow connected to the control center. Do you have a way to do that?"

  "If you need it to be done, we will find a way to do it."

  "Thank you."

  "You saved Lako. Perhaps you can do this, as well. Whatever you need, ask L'Kell." And with that, Askelanda strode from the room.

  But Kailan's expression seemed exceedingly worried as she watched the ahktah leave.

  Chapter 13

  Factory Expedition

  THEY SPENT THE night in surprisingly comfortable quarters, several levels above the "conference" room. The Neri provided them with cured fish and various kinds of fruit, including juice squeezed from seaweed berries. For sleep, they were given coarsely textured blankets woven from cottonlike fibers. Bandicut, Ik, and Li-Jared slept in one room, Antares in an adjoining room.

  One by one, they awoke—and sat, nibbling at their food in silence. Was there an almost imperceptible lifting of the darkness outside the habitat? Bandicut thought so, as he rubbed his eyes an
d wondered what time of the day it really was. According to his wristwatch, they had slept for six or seven hours. But he had no idea what the length of a day was on this planet, or how the Neri kept track of time in the endless dark.

  By the time Hargel came to attend to their needs and to escort Bandicut back to the sub hangar, Antares still hadn't awakened. So Bandicut said good-bye to Ik and Li-Jared and followed Hargel to supervise the outfitting of the robots for contact with the deep-sea factory. He found Neri techs—females, Kailan's people—hard at work on the outside of one of the subs, altering a set of cables that fed out through the pressure hull, connecting the interior of the cabin to the outside. He got his first look at one of the "changers" that Kailan had referred to, a fat cylindrical object about the size of a breadbox, worn as a frontpack by one of the technicians. The flat end of the cylinder was pointed outward, and seemed to be made of an extremely malleable substance, like soft putty. One end of the sub's cable was engulfed in the putty right now. A second tech worked at a small console connected to the changer, apparently tending the ochile, or programming.

  "What are you doing?" Bandicut asked.

  The Neri holding the changer glanced at him but didn't answer. The putty end of the changer began to squirm, and a moment later it spat out the cable, which had a long, bulbous probe on its end—apparently new. "We had to lengthen the cable and put a changeable connector on its end," the tech said. "Now we'll attach it to one of the extending arms."

  As the techs began working with one of the sub's telescoping manipulator arms, Bandicut began to see what the purpose was. The probe, attached by cable to the robots inside the sub, would complete the link to the factory outside. "What about the hookup to the robots?" he asked.