by Scott Rhine
“Use my knowledge to save lives and prepare people instead of kill them? A novel concept.” He snorted. “Stop worrying and rest.”
Somehow, in this awkward position, she could.
****
The next morning, Roz woke as the ship jumped. The transition to subspace barely hurt at all, but she took the opportunity to sneak down to Echo’s chamber.
The elevator startled Echo. With a gesture, she shut doors to two other mirrored chambers on either side of the elevator, perhaps those of her deceased mates. “Is there something wrong?”
“No. Something right,” said Roz, still in her night clothes. She related everything that had happened with Max during the ball and the intimate moment last night. At some point, furniture had appeared for them to relax on. Roz summarized with, “When he does ask me for my hand in marriage, I’ll accept, but I still want him to declare his feelings first.”
Echo embraced her in a long hug that felt like a sister’s. “As you are being frank, I will too. Max won’t proposition you on the ship because of his position of authority, and he intends to have a long and careful courtship. Expect nothing physical until after the ceremony of union. Furthermore, he can’t go ashore for a date on Cocytus because the planet is too close to Vegas. He had a disagreement with some prominent organized-crime figures there. You may have a considerable wait.”
“The longest and most frightening wait of my life,” Roz admitted. “So are you up for more math? I need to get some sort of handle on the matrix, or the nightmares are going to continue.”
Echo mused for a moment. “The nightmare may be your subconscious trying to warn you about something.” She brought up the 3D projection of the subbasement equation. “You’ve spent a great deal of time getting in tune with the physical aspect of the ship. What else bothers you?”
Roz opened up and let the chaos wash over her. She strolled through the room, concentrating on each cell of the matrix. Finally, a small value on the diagonal, two hops from the one she had already expressed problems with, caught her attention. Cells to the left and down were empty. “Here. This one doesn’t match the rest of the model. It should have a larger magnitude.”
“Indeed.” Echo highlighted both problematic cells and narrowed her eyes. “I can share facts that will enlighten you as to the cause, but first, I need a token from you.”
“Of what sort?”
“Do you swear betrothal to me and loyalty to our union? Promise that what we speak of in this place shall be private and revealed to no one outside our sacred bond.”
“Of course.”
“Give me a symbol of your pledge, to be returned upon our marriage ceremony,” the Magi insisted. “It must have great personal worth.”
Roz didn’t have any meaningful personal items except the medal Max had given her. Slowly, she unpinned the dolphin from her lapel and offered it to Echo. “As a sign of my commitment and intent.”
Echo examined the shimmering pin with affection and clipped it to her own silk robe. “This is indeed precious. I shall keep it safe. For my part, I give you access to one of my race’s greatest secrets.” From beneath the robe at her chest, she withdrew a golden necklace so thick it could have been a belt. The flat, oval, green stone fixed in the center could have been from an Egyptian pharaoh. She lowered the heavy necklace over Roz’s shoulders and adjusted something on a security menu. The image of the matrix around them vanished. “Place your palm over the stone to be granted access.”
As Roz did so, the stone flared so brightly that she could see pink light through her hand.
Echo gave the stone instructions in rapid Magi. In Banker, she explained, “I made a copy of my work space for you to experiment with. My male mate was the Probability Mechanic in our triad. You may see things he didn’t.”
The projection changed to a stack of ceramic cubes—nine wide, nine deep, and nine high. Again the Magi obsession with threes. Invisible bars of glass separated the perfect rows and columns so Roz could shift her angle of view to see the precise hieroglyphs on each face. Together, the writing on consecutive cubes made a complete pattern. They reminded her of a three-by-three cube her math professor had used to demonstrate group theory. “Is this some sort of game or puzzle?”
“A copy of the ultimate puzzle—the Enigma Cube. The inside has equations as well as the outer faces.”
“It’s insane. There are 729 options for each hole and twenty-four orientations for each little cube. The permutations are astronomical!”
“Worse. The expected lifespan of the Milky Way is less than ten to the eighteenth seconds long. The cube has on the order of ten to the 2778th permutations.”
“There’s no way we can solve this by brute force. What sadist invented it?” Roz asked.
“Your people would call them the Forerunners, the race who preceded all others. This was the only trace left of them. It is said the one who solves this puzzle can join them. Our wisest philosophers and sages have been working to solve it for tens of thousands of Anodyne years.” Even the Magi’s revelation was cloaked in further mystery. “The first layer was only workable because it contained a multiplication table in base eight.”
Roz wrinkled her brow. Humans only used base ten because they had ten fingers. “Do your people have eight fingers like the Turtles and the cold-bloods?”
“The Turtles shaped species in their own image. We avoid such pride,” Echo said, dodging the question. “The secondary patterns inside are called internal assurances, letting us know we’re on the right track with our solution. By the third layer, the assurances were so miniscule they spurred our people to invent microscopes. The study of Enigma changed us. From it, we have learned most of our physics, including the Icarus star-drive equations.”
Roz stared in disbelief at the ornate interface in her hands. The Icarus equations had nearly destroyed Earth four centuries ago. This was far bigger. She began breathing faster, and her voice rose. “Your people built their civilization around this artifact. Your genetic engineering of the Quantum Computing talent was probably designed to solve this puzzle. What do you expect me to do?”
“Provide fresh perspective. When we met the Turtles, they gave us principles of sonic physics that never occurred to us. This reduced our search space by an order of magnitude. Then my mates and I showed this puzzle to Black Ram Xerxes.”
Rotating the image, Roz marveled at the complexity buried in the simplicity. “Reuben’s ancestor. He could tap the Collective computing power of every Goat mind on his planet.”
“Yes. For a price, Xerxes twisted the cube in new ways to reveal the subbasement equations. My mates and I devoted decades of our lives to the implementation of that discovery.” Echo touched the center stone, and the holographic equations they had been studying before reappeared. “That cube configuration generates our current matrix.”
“Holy crap,” Roz said, her fingers numb from hyperventilating. “These are the building blocks to the freaking universe.”
“Holy, indeed, is the triune made solid. Even the authenticity of dirt smudges on various cubes has provoked years of debate. The original was lost ages ago in our religious wars, but anyone who contributes new science to the academy is entrusted with a copy.”
“I thought you guys were totally against violence,” Roz said.
“Losing our greatest treasure caused many changes in our society, including our determination to protect sentient life,” Echo said quietly. “My greatest fear for the last century has been that the academy of sages would discard my solution as a dead end and forbid further exploration of its variations. This would seal off the true solution from our people forever, a worse fate than my death would have been.”
“Branches of exploration? Interesting.” Roz stared at the problem cells. “Is there any way you can trade these two like flipping the battery over in a flashlight? Could you turn a zero upside down or something?”
Echo restored the array of cubes. Then she reached out her fingers and
rotated the square. Most of the sides were blank, and the two hieroglyphs that swapped were remarkably similar. However, she tapped the center stone, and a new matrix appeared. “Like this?” The two cells in question were now transposed. Several other cells had been subtly modified.
“That feels … better,” Roz said after several moments of examination. “But it changes everything.”
“Yes, mate-to-be. I think you may have found the source of many problems.” Echo’s voice was tinged with awe. “You are the first Human to have earned the mantle of the Enigma. Regardless of whether I survive, you shall be honored by the academy of Magi sages for this contribution.”
A touch on Roz’s neck conveyed peace and calm. “How can we prove this is the right change?”
“Confirming with computer simulation could take many months. If Professor Crakik solves the drift issue, we can test the changes soon after.”
“This is awesome. While you simulate, I’ll track the physical differences. A lot of them can be achieved by adjusting existing hardware.” Roz was already planning how to reshape the Calabi-Yau reaction chambers and use the photovores conservatively.
“Are you glad now that you have pledged yourself to my triad?”
Roz forced herself to calm down for a moment and consider the scene from Echo’s point of view. “I am honored beyond words that you share your life with me. I pray to whatever force is behind all these equations that my work helps extend your life centuries more.”
“We uplift each other,” Echo replied, kissing her forehead.
Chapter 14 – Cerulean
Roz spent most of her time in Echo’s room, working on the matrix and sleeping on the retractable furniture. She left twice a day to eat, mainly because Echo did not wish to dine in front of her, and Roz still enjoyed meat when she needed extra iron. During her morning break, she exercised with Ivy. Roz showered once a week or when Echo complained. In the late afternoon, she devoted time to teaching and playing with Jeeves.
As Roz sat in the dining hall on the cargo level, Max approached her. “You haven’t responded to my emails.”
So little of her old routine mattered in light of the Engima. “I haven’t read them.”
“Deke’s offered to brief us all on Cocytus and the Bat realm beyond, so I scheduled a team meeting.”
Roz stroked her necklace. “I could listen to the tape later.”
“I don’t think you realize how important this is.”
She almost laughed. More important than the culmination of a thirty-thousand-year-old quest for an entire race? But his face was so sweet. “Fine. One hour.”
With the two of them, half the crew was already in the dining hall, including Herb, Alyssa, and Grady. Max signaled the remaining partners.
Ivy was first off the lift, followed by Reuben and Kesh. “What’s up? We’re working on optimizing cargo choices for the route.” When she saw Roz, her mouth dropped open. “You’ve lost weight.”
“Since when is that a bad thing?”
“Jeeves misses you,” Max whispered.
“He can always come down and tell me himself.”
Max shook his head. “Echo radiates Collective Unconscious like a star. He’d never go near her. Besides, she never sees more than one person at a time in the flesh.”
Deke stepped in next, wearing a simple, metal, walking leg. “Ah, we’re all here. Good. The first thing to realize about Bats is that we take offense easily. We’re very formal, and respect is important. No whispering or playing on your computers while I’m speaking.”
Reuben put away his game.
“The next topic is communication. In Bat space, outside an embassy, expect Bat to be spoken, but don’t try to speak it yourselves. I’ve heard noble Roz’s attempts, and they sounded like a moron with a mouth full of mud.”
Roz started to rise to the bait but recognized the test. No speaking out of turn.
Reuben fell for the trap. “How are we supposed to interact, then?”
“AI translators are your only hope. However, realize that microphones on those can easily be jammed. Those who deal with foreigners often have mute buttons. They’ll claim it’s for national security, but it’s really because you folks don’t know when to shut up. Ears are always better. So you have to learn to understand basic Bat conversation, but fake ignorance. If they’re going to insult, arrest, or rob you, they’ll jam your AI first.” Deke proceeded to give examples of crude police orders like Stop, Freeze, or Hands Up. Roz already knew Hello and how to count to eight. “Fail to obey, and they will zap you until urine runs down your leg. The threat of Phib invasion scared my people severely, and they increased security at all borders and government offices.”
Max took notes in a journal app with several tabs, proof he had taken her advice about nightmare therapy.
“The only two unforgivable crimes would be to insult our religion or to threaten the Carousel.” The Carousel was a sequence of six stars that formed the hub of Bat commerce. One could reach anywhere in their realm from this loop. “Obstructing the flow on the Carousel or flying outside approved lanes can result in a fine or confiscation of your vessel. In congested areas, I’ll take the helm, Roz. You wouldn’t be able to react fast enough.” As evidence, Deke brought up a video of two dozen vessels in a holding pattern around a space station, swirling around like fish in a school.
“Granted,” Roz said. “How do we avoid giving offense in the religious area?”
“Ironically, you’re not allowed to ask us about our religion, but Max has seen me practice. Our faith, like our piloting, emphasizes listening.”
Max said, “The Voice of the Void.”
“Right. I’ve been tolerant, but with other Bats, never speak during someone’s meditation period or question the divinity of what you hear. Nearly all criminals scoff at this tenet. Therefore, expressing such doubts will brand you as a criminal to my people. Listening to the universe is more than the physical. We are also to obey the voice within when it moves us to acts of charity and selflessness.”
“What about the law?” asked Reuben.
Deke scowled at the interruption. “Priest judges make most of them based on centuries of precedent. Knights act as the guardians of sky and space. Those with physical skills guard the ground as police.” The air of distain in Deke’s voice for ground-based specialists was palpable. “We all swear allegiance to a landed lord and keep the peace. Each territory is fairly autonomous.” He projected a map of the various regions but concentrated on the path they would be taking to the professor.
Then Max stepped in. He was a much more dynamic and less pompous speaker. Roz immediately sat at attention. “Traitors.” Max displayed a woodcut from Dante’s Inferno of men and demons buried up to their necks in ice. “Are sent to the ninth circle of Hell—Cocytus.”
“Why would they call their system something so horrible?” asked Roz now that she knew what the name referred to.
Max switched to a map of the system, complete with their intended flight path to moon A9, a generic label for the ninth orbit around the first planet. “Legend has it that Blue Giant Gas Corporation intended to call the ice moon Cerulean. All their other refueling stations are named after shades of blue like Azure, Cobalt, Iris, Sky, and Viridian. However, the clerk who filed the name had a grudge. Once a name is logged with the central office, it’s permanent.”
Ivy said, “The terraformer who built the colony betrayed everything Anodyne stands for.”
“What was the betrayal? That he took money that didn’t go through the Llewellyn Corporation? Everyone wanted this trade route to the Bats, and the three gas giants in the system generate plenty of cheap fuel.”
Ivy shook her head. “His crime was that he tunneled through the ice with a nuke without testing for native microbes first. He violated the first principle of shaping—do no harm. Furthermore, at the time Earth needed help the most, the corporation sold their souls to the Bankers and used Earth’s line of credit to back them.”
“We have no choice,” Kesh insisted. “The wolf is at the door. Our next loan installment is due soon. The trades here are the big score we’re relying on to carry us to the university. We won’t get rich if we only trade with saints.”
Max cleared his throat to continue. “Without Anodyne help, the terraforming project was supposed to take a century. They turned ammonia and other gases from the giants into water and air, carving huge tunnels in the ice of A9. They named the spaceport Ice Haven, but the rebranding didn’t catch on. Very few colonists travel this far—only corporate types. The war slowed the project, but they had the grand opening about three years ago. I hear it’s quite lovely. The pay is good, the essentials of life are cheap, but keeping warm can be tricky.”
“Which is why we brought the solar-panel components,” Reuben said.
Kesh added, “Ice Haven is like any other boom town: plenty of rich and bored workers looking for ways to blow their pay. In addition to the alcohol, we brought a few novelty items from the other worlds to sell to these fellows at a steep profit.”
“Where do the Bats come in?” asked Roz.
Deke replied, “Ah, we have a base on A14, which they call Purgatory. It’s primarily a set of warehouses for storage and quarantine. Bats there trade with ships who visit the refueling base.”
“So it’s called Purgatory because it’s a staging place?” Roz asked.
“No, because the lord in charge was exiled there,” Deke clarified. “He can see the stars of his home system but not enter.”
“Lord Aviar isn’t suffering,” Kesh said. “He takes a cut on everything passing to and from the Bat realm.”
Max finished up with photos of the Ice Haven habitats and the unified schedule for refueling and cargo.
