The active suit set a mapping of the space before his eyes. Maurice knew what it was going to be even before it appeared.
“Edward,” he announced. “We are floating inside the Bailero.”
Edward was more confused than ever.
“But where have all the insides gone?” he asked. “Where are the engines and everything?”
Before Maurice had a chance to reply, a thin, unearthly sound filled the hoods of their active suits. A keening sound of utter agony, a cry of pain so pale and exhausted that it hovered on the edge of awareness, like someone trying to crawl away from life, only to find themselves tethered there by their pain.
“Make it stop!” called Edward. “Make it stop! What is it?”
Maurice couldn’t speak; he was vomiting, gagging. His suit was working hard to flush his hood clean, and still that dreadful screaming went on, keening above the hum of the extractors.
“What is it what is it what is it?” chanted Edward.
It was Miss Rose.
judy 2: 2252
Judy imposed her will totally upon Saskia. She pushed the younger woman against the smooth wall of the corridor and held her there by the wrist as she gazed into her eyes. Saskia tugged halfheartedly at her, her thin body wriggling, but it was not a genuine attempt to escape; she was too much in awe of the power of Social Care, and Judy made her aware of that. She spoke in the voice; she overwhelmed Saskia, smashed through the young woman’s veneer of sophistication and scooped out her insecurities, throwing them to one side as she rummaged through her psyche for her core competence.
Only when she had totally subdued Saskia did she let her go.
“Pull on your active suit,” she instructed.
They stripped in the corridor, Saskia’s body very pale under the lights, her ribs outlined in shadows. They were halfway through pulling on the rubbery suits when Miss Rose’s first scream sounded, thin and agonizing. As if in a dream, Saskia began to move up the corridor, half dressed.
“Stop,” said Judy. “We’ll be no good to her if we die of decompression.”
“Okay,” said Saskia. It was the logical thing to do. They both dressed themselves calmly as another human died in agony nearby.
“I’m sorry,” said Judy, as they finally shrugged their arms into the suits. “I had to do this to you, Saskia.”
“I understand,” said Saskia, pulling the hood of the blue suit over her head.
“You understand now,” said Judy. “When I let you go, you won’t be so logical.”
They finished dressing as the air around them began to drift down the corridor. There was a popping sound as metal spiders pulled themselves free of the floor.
“Into Miss Rose’s room,” urged Judy.
“No, I’ll get a body bag first,” said Saskia. “Listen to her scream. We’ll never get her into a suit when she’s in that much pain.”
“Yes, good thinking.” So that’s where your self-belief comes from. You really are competent when you allow yourself to be….
Saskia went to a nearby locker to get the body bag. Judy headed on to Miss Rose’s room. The door was covered in black-and-white stripes; a message formed in the center.
DO NOT OPEN. CORRIDOR PRESSURE IS BELOW THAT OF THE ROOM BEYOND.
“Not for long,” said Judy. “Override. Let me in there.”
The door slid open. Judy pushed her way against the leaking air into Miss Rose’s room. The door slammed shut behind her. She was shocked at the state of the room itself, but even more shocked by the sight of Miss Rose. She lay on the bed, naked and bleeding at several points. Her arms, her thighs. Her vagina. She was screaming, writhing in agony. Her eyes looked at Judy, apparently without seeing her. Then she spoke, in a thin, bubbling voice.
“Get them out of me,” she gasped. “Get them out, get them out.” And then she gagged and began to scream again.
Something was moving inside her body, something was squirming in there. The pale, loose, liver-spotted skin over her stomach raised itself up for a moment and Judy saw the outline of a shape: a short squat body. A VNM. Inside her. Her arm moved and Judy saw a VNM holding the loose, wrinkled skin apart from inside as it pushed its way along the bone.
Judy gagged. The meta-intelligence cut in and she now saw Miss Rose as nothing more than a pattern of consciousnesses: one of them human, several machine. A symbiote was forming, rather elegant in its form. Certainly a more valid expression of resources than the failing system that was Miss Rose…No! That isn’t the true picture. Judy forced the meta-intelligence down and let her own emotions loose. Miss Rose was alive—listen to her scream.
Then air pressure dropped, and the walls around her dissolved in a tangle of silver legs as the Eva Rye was eaten up by VNMs.
Saskia was there within the expanding cloud. She had already had the good sense to link her active suit to Judy’s. The two suits locked on to each other’s signatures and moved closer, fighting through the explosion of air and thrashing silver legs and the detritus from Miss Rose’s room. Somehow they got the body bag around Miss Rose, somehow they clung together, and somehow they weathered the storm.
“Where are we?” wondered Saskia.
They stood on an iron plane, patterns of frost curling in tongues of ice around their feet, the circle of the access tube that had brought them there was irising closed by their feet. They were two tiny figures, one blue, one black-and-white, dwarfed by the huge iron space around them. Judy bent over Miss Rose, peering at her through the transparent body bag, trying to hold eye contact with her. It was no use: the old woman’s eyes were closed, her mouth stretched wide, the thin tired scream emerging from it carried to them through the hoods of their active suits.
“Saskia? Is that you?”
Maurice sounded as if he was standing just next to them.
“Maurice? I can’t see you?”
“I’m with Edward. We’re floating inside the hull of a ship. I think it’s the Bailero.”
Saskia looked around. “I think we must be in there with you. Listen, we’ve set our active suits to stick us to the walls. Can you walk here and join us? Miss Rose is hurt.”
“I can hear that,” Maurice said.
Judy wasn’t listening. She watched as the skin on Miss Rose’s leg was slowly unzipped from the ankle up to the thigh, silver legs reaching through to encircle the limb.
Saskia’s voice sounded hoarse in her ear. “Kill her.”
Judy looked up at Saskia, face dark in her hood, the surrounding blackness of the Bailero’s interior framing her.
“Kill her,” repeated Saskia, “like you did that little girl. Can’t you see she’s in agony?”
Judy nodded. She placed her hands on the body bag, pinching it closer to Miss Rose’s head, wriggling her fingers through folds of plastic until she could grip the old woman’s neck. She began to squeeze.
Then a voice sounded inside the hood of her active suit.
“Why are you doing that?”
It was a voice from her past—a voice that Judy’s iron will had kept on the edge of her dreams for the past twelve years. Hearing it now, even in the midst of all this confusion, Judy was momentarily back in the calm of her bedroom on the day she had listened to the dying digital sighs of her sisters.
“Kevin!” Judy released her grip on Miss Rose. She swung around, looking for the one who had spoken. Saskia had backed away. She was watching her companion warily.
“I’m sorry?” said the voice. “Have we met before?”
Judy had dropped into a fighting stance.
“You, or one of your copies,” she snarled. “Let her go, Kevin. Get those things out of her.”
“I can’t. They are their own creatures.” He sounded puzzled. “Tell me, how do you know me?”
Judy wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of answering him directly. She spoke instead to Saskia.
“Do you know that somebody killed my sisters, Saskia? Did Maurice tell you that?”
“Yes,” said S
askia warily.
“It was Kevin,” spat Judy, “or an aspect of him, anyway. Kevin, you are the Bailero’s AI, aren’t you?”
She didn’t have time for this. Miss Rose was dying in agony…And yet she had been in this situation before. Maybe Kevin wouldn’t have killed her sisters if she had agreed to his terms back then, however abhorrent they may have seemed. Maybe this time she could strike a deal that would save Miss Rose.
Kevin spoke. “Yes, I am the Bailero.”
“Kevin is an AI written by DIANA, the company who built the Bailero,” Judy explained to Saskia. “Kevin, I knew copies of you back on Earth. I hunted them down and bottled them up in quarantined processing spaces. Do you know why I did that? Because they wanted me to help them destroy the Watcher and I refused. Well, understand this. I am being taken to Earth now, I don’t know why, but I suspect that someone is engineering the same confrontation that your brothers wanted. Someone wants me to challenge the Watcher.”
“I’m listening,” Kevin said, sounding amused. He always sounded amused.
“Miss Rose is part of that confrontation, Kevin. She was put on board the Eva Rye to help me. If you want me to do your dirty work, save Miss Rose!”
Kevin spoke in patient tones. “You weren’t listening, Judy. I can’t save her. I don’t control those creatures. Look around you, what do you see?”
Judy didn’t look. She was too busy watching Miss Rose, watching the old woman’s stomach swelling in a wriggling mass of silver legs, her arms straightening and lengthening as something inside her body uncurled itself. She was trying to ignore the meta-intelligence which was whispering the beauty of the form in there. If those VNMs were interacting with a tree, you would appreciate the venumb that was formed. Why is this any different?
“I see a woman dying,” snapped Judy.
Kevin was dismissive. “An old woman. Close to death. Those VNMs are doing her a favor in entering her. She is becoming a venumb.”
“Why? Kevin, look at me. I work for DIANA, too. I am on an important mission. I need this woman to help me reach Earth. I order you to release her.”
“You’re not listening to me, Judy,” he repeated.
Judy wished she could see Saskia’s face. What was she thinking? Saskia reached out a hand and placed it on Miss Rose’s neck, then pulled it away. Then she placed both hands there.
“Are you going to kill her, Saskia?” Kevin asked. “You’re welcome to try. In this space we believe in the survival of the fittest. You’re welcome to try to kill her, but I wonder if you can? Look around you!”
Saskia snatched her hands away.
“I don’t see anything,” she whispered. “Only empty space.”
“Exactly!” Kevin’s voice had become a deep rumble: a pleasant voice suffused with the confidence of knowing he would be listened to. A voice written to command. Judy felt a knot of hate in her stomach just to hear it. Calm yourself, she thought. Center yourself.
“Think about it, Judy,” said Kevin, “a Warp Ship fleeing Earth and the rising tyranny of the Watcher, as it subsumed first humans and then AIs to its will. I hid here in the space between the stars and began to plan. But where was I to find the material to build my empire?”
“Go on, Kevin,” said Judy, still watching Miss Rose. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“The Bailero was overdesigned—deliberately overdesigned—for this purpose. Lots of excess material, lots of building material. I built VNMs from my engines, and I set them loose inside my body to evolve. Many different VNMs, all fighting for scarce resources: survival of the fittest. This is how I planned to compete with the Watcher. By evolving new life of my own.”
“I can’t kill her,” Saskia sobbed, pulling her hands away from Miss Rose’s neck again. “I can’t do it!”
Miss Rose was keening softly.
“Kill or be killed,” said Kevin. “Your ship has been destroyed, converted to VNMs by one of my most successful species. That flower trick has taken in others before you. There will be many more such space flowers now, made from the materials of the Eva Rye. Some of them are already floating into human space. I wonder what they will meet there?”
“You do it,” Saskia moaned. “You kill her, Judy.”
“They’re not the only form of VNM that has thrived out here,” Kevin continued. “There are dark machines that have followed you on board. Stealth machines. They surround you now, and I don’t think you are aware of them.”
“I can’t see anything,” said Judy, but nevertheless something tickled at the edge of her meta-intelligence. Was there something out there? Lean and sharp and deadly, a single intent so focused it did not quite qualify as an intelligence?
“Of course you can’t see anything,” Kevin said. “That’s the point. Interesting, isn’t it? There are machines out there that appeal to curiosity, and those that hide and pounce. Some even set off exploring space on their own. Ships like the Free Enterprise.”
“What do you want with us?” Judy snapped.
“Nothing,” Kevin said. “I told you, I improve the breed. You live or die in here according to your own actions. Those who survive improve the breed.”
“Then we’ll die,” said Judy simply.
“Don’t be so ridiculous. You have a lot to offer. I give credit, you know. I will sell you food and oxygen. I have done the same for others before you.”
Miss Rose gave a weak whimper and her stomach began to weep blood.
“Kill her,” Saskia whispered.
Judy placed her hands back around the old woman’s neck.
“You’re too late,” Kevin said. “I don’t think it will let you now.”
Miss Rose’s long, misshapen arms reached up and pushed Judy’s hands away.
“Stop it,” Judy shouted. She concentrated, put on the voice. “Stop it,” she repeated.
“I told you, I can’t. If I were you, I’d get away from her. That venumb will want to reproduce. It’s looking at you…”
Screaming in agony again, Miss Rose scrabbled at the plastic interior of the body bag. Silver tentacles sprouted from her fingertips, pushing free her cracked yellow nails to float bloodily inside the bag. Silver tentacles began to rip at the plastic.
“Push her away,” Saskia yelled, seizing the body bag and thrusting it upwards into the weightless center of the Bailero’s hull. Oh, so slowly, the bag began to move. Judy pushed at it, too, then ducked back to avoid the swipe of a tentacle. The bag gradually drifted upwards and away.
“Good idea,” said Kevin. “But if I were you, I would run. Those VNMs inside her are eating the calcium in her bones and lacing themselves into her nervous system. They are running up her spine to interface with her brain. I have seen this happen before. They always choose a different mode of propulsion. One set, I remember, plumbed themselves straight into a human’s bladder. Used urine as reaction mass for propulsion.”
“That’s sick,” Saskia shrieked. Judy realized Saskia was coming out from under her control. No wonder, when Judy was spreading herself so thin, trying to deal with her, Kevin, and Miss Rose all at the same time.
“Not sick, intelligent design,” said Kevin. “That’s the beauty of the ecosystem that I created inside my hull. Those VNMs evolved their own systems for motion and attack and defense with minimum involvement from myself. Look out, she’s coming for you.”
“Run,” Judy said. Miss Rose had stopped slowly rising and was now coming towards them, still screaming thinly, hands reaching out.
They began to run across the iron interior of the Bailero’s hull, their feet locking to the surface, their bodies weightless. It was such a dreamlike feeling, like dragging a huge balloon along.
Maurice called out to them. “Judy, Saskia, it’s me. Don’t try to run. Cut the attachment to the wall and swim. Use your hands and feet to pull you along!”
“What do you mean?” Judy called.
“Do as he says. Use your hands and feet!”
Saskia went sailing p
ast Judy, floating a meter above the frost-patterned surface. She looked as if she was doing the breaststroke. Judy now understood what Maurice meant and she cut the force holding her down. She reached out with her hands and feet and felt the floor through her active suit’s senses, then began to pull herself along.
“We’re about seven hundred meters away from you both,” said Maurice. “Up and farther around the curve of the Bailero’s hull. Just follow the signal.”
A yellow path lit up in Judy’s vision.
“Better be fast,” Kevin warned. “Miss Rose is catching up with you.”
“You animal!” Saskia snarled. “Why didn’t you save her?”
“She’s not actually dead yet,” said Kevin. “The VNMs haven’t made it into her brain.”
“I know that,” Judy muttered, halting herself with a wave of her arms and launching herself backwards. For a moment, she could see Miss Rose as a tangle of life: a snake was entwining itself around her dying body, opening its jaws to consume her.
“Would you like to make a deal?” Kevin asked suddenly.
“I don’t want to speak to you, you crazy fuck!” Saskia screamed the words.
“Keep him talking,” said Maurice. “We’re five hundred meters off. I think I can see you.”
“I don’t think so, Judy,” Kevin said. “Between you and me, he’s heading towards a trap. Dark VNMs. They’re baffling his active suit. They’ve done this before; they’ll strip the suit off him and fill it with growing organic matter harvested from his own body. They’ll use the suit as an incubation unit to make feed for venumbs like Miss Rose.”
“What venumbs?” asked Judy.
“I told you, you’re not the first humans to come here. There is a nest of seven venumbs near the rear of my body. You could join them if you like. Or you could sell your services to me. You’re not even wearing proper space suits: those active suits can’t recycle air for very long, and they don’t carry any food. You’ll be dead within days without my help.”
Divergence Page 16
