“Busy, as always. My search team has found another system near to mine, not three month’s travel from here. They’re outfitting the harvesters now. It should cut our building costs considerably.”
“You’re still expanding?”
“I’ve had two settlement requests from Frisia and one from Belial. Both are reasonable. If we can find another system to harvest ore from, we should be able to accommodate them both.” She paused. “And I had one request from a Terran corporation, but I’ll be turning that down.”
Her tone warned Alya that the last comment wasn’t merely small talk, but touched on the reason she had called.
“Be careful,” the Prima warned. “They have a right to settle in outspace. If you deny them station rights, you’d better have a very good reason.”
“Only the best,” Delhi assured her. “You see, these corporates came into the outworlds to find someone. A young girl. Perhaps you’ve heard of her. Jamisia Capra.”
The Prima’s expression revealed nothing.
“It seems she left Earth with some great secret in her possession. Something destined to unseat the Guild and give control of the stars to Earth.”
“Indeed. I’ve been hearing stories like that for years. Forgive me if I’m skeptical.”
Delhi scowled. Clearly she knew that Alya’s people had been following the girl, but if the Prima wouldn’t admit to it then it couldn’t be discussed openly.
“If a person like that existed,” Delhi said finally, “she might be a real danger to the Guild.”
“If I believed anyone to be a danger to the Guild,” Alya assured her, “that person would be dead.”
“Perhaps you would believe it worth the risk. To follow her, maybe, and see who else was interested in her.”
“Perhaps,” she said quietly. “And why would that be a concern of yours?”
“It wouldn’t, for as long as she was in the outworlds. But if she fell into the hands of someone who might use her for personal gain....”
There was a long pause. Longer even than the time required for the transmission to get from one office to the other.
“Such as?” Alya prompted.
Delhi seemed to consider the question before answering. “A Guildmaster, perhaps.”
“Someone other than yourself.”
“Of course.”
“Because you would be no threat at all to anyone. The girl would be quite safe in your hands.”
“Of course.”
“But in someone else’s ... you’re saying that’s a different matter.”
Delhi’s expression darkened. “Someone with less commitment to the Guild, perhaps. Someone whose penchant for playing dangerous games could put us all at risk.”
“One of my Guildmasters? Surely I can trust them all.”
“Their loyalty, Prima. Not their judgment.”
“Ah. I see.”
“I speak only of some of them, of course. A rare few.”
“And you think that if one of those got hold of this girl, it would be bad for the Guild.”
“Her very existence is a threat to us. Something we might be willing to tolerate for a while, to see who comes after her, but not for too long. And once she’s in the hands of a Guildmaster, her usefulness is at an end, for no Terran corporate is going to raid Guild property to gain access to her.”
“A valid point,” the Prima allowed. “So what you’re saying is, if a girl like that fell into the hands of a Guildmaster—one without your own appreciation for the subtleties of the situation—she should be killed immediately, to keep her from becoming a threat to us in the future.”
“Yes, my Prima. That’s what I was thinking, exactly.”
“Indeed.” She made sure her expression revealed nothing of what she was thinking, and kept her tone carefully neutral. “How fortunate that no situation like that has arisen. But I’ll keep your words in mind, just in case it ever does.”
“You do me honor.”
“Your counsel is always welcome, Guildmistress. Always.”
Even when you do not say what you mean.
They went through the ritual of ending their conversation with polite trivialities, a process drawn out to tedious length by the transmission delay. Then the holocast switched off, leaving the Prima alone once more.
Do you think I don’t know what you want, Chandras Delhi?
She took up the report again and put it before her. It was the most recent of several hundred documents analyzing the path of Jamisia Shido, or her history, or her potential threat to the Guild.
You were after her yourself for reasons of your own, and it irks you no end that now someone else has control of her. So, rather than leave her in Ra’s hands, or give her into mine, you would simply have her destroyed. Remove the piece from the game board so that no one else can use it. That’s your style, isn’t it? Take control of what you can and destroy all the rest.
She gazed down at the report, which chronicled Jamisia’s arrival at Ra’s house on Paradise, and the desperate efforts of a Terran corporation to get hold of her.
Of course, she mused, that doesn’t mean that in this case you aren’t right about the girl, does it?
If you want a truly alien creature, look deeply at your own Terran self. Probe into that layer of being which evolved before we had speech or walked erect, and see if it seems at all familiar to your modern, civilized self. Study the parts of the soul that hide from daylight, the quirks and terrors of our insecurities, the inner conflicts that are the very foundation of our human identity. There you will find a creature truly alien, nearly incomprehensible, and as awesome in its potential as it is terrifying in its capacity for self-destruction.
TYE CHIVAL,
On Being Human
OUTSHIP: DIONYSUS
JAMISIA FELT as if her mind had been scraped raw.
She tried to act normal as Phoenix helped her into her sleep chair on the outship, but it was impossible. Something had been inside her brain that didn’t belong there, and now that it was gone, it had left a gaping wound. And the worst part was that she felt driven to prod it with her thoughts, forcing it open, testing the pain.
What had happened in the gallery?
“You all right?” It was Phoenix. In his eyes she could see just how much he wanted to help her, and how he didn’t know where to start. She didn’t know what to tell him either. Just be here for me. I don’t want to be alone. But she sensed that when the episode had happened in the gallery, it wouldn’t have mattered if ten thousand people were with her, or if they all loved her to distraction. She had been alone then, utterly alone, and even her Others couldn’t help her. The ultimate Isolation, inside one’s own head.
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, and she managed a strained smile.
He tightened the straps one last time, securing her into the chair, and then went to strap himself into his own. Once more the outpilot was insisting that they sleep through the journey. The first time she had been disappointed, for she had wanted to see the ainniq from the inside. Now she was merely exhausted, and welcomed the theta-sleep which would be imposed upon her. At least she didn’t have to be in some coffinlike shell this trip, as she had on her first outspace journey. This would be a lighter sleep, more easily managed, a state suggested rather than mandated by the programs being fed into her headset.
With a sigh she shut her eyes and leaned back. She could feel the ship’s engines rumbling, a soothing vibration through the padded chair. An icon appeared before her and she confirmed it, and almost immediately felt the comfortable disassociation of light sleep take hold of her brain, as the outship’s theta-program started to cycle her down into the deepest phase of slumber.
DREAMSCAPE 99.0000 LOADING
The field is darker now than ever before, and storm clouds are drawing in. The light is harsh and low-angled, casting knife-edged shadows across the grass.
Something’s wrong. But what?
The Others are all there with her, and
now that she looks at their faces, she can see the resemblance to her own. Even in Derik’s male face, even in Raven’s dark one. It’s not a quality of color or shape, but something much more subtle. As if she can sense the soul within each of them and recognize it as cousin to her own.
Her tutor approaches the group. She can see the tension in his eyes.
He tells her, “I hoped this day would never come. ”
“What is it?” His demeanor frightens her. “What’s happening?”
He shakes his head. “Ah, Jamie. I’ve done everything I can to protect you. You don’t know how much. You don’t know how many programs are in your-head that I put there, trying to stave off this day. ” He sighs. “But you are what they made you to be. And now the worst is manifesting. Very well. ”
Dark clouds are moving in. The farthest trees are fading into a misty grayness, veiled by distant rain.
“I’ll tell you what I know, ” he says. “And mind you, it’s all I know. I wasn’t part of the team that designed your psyche, nor was I one of those who did the work. I helped cover up their tracks now and then. I wrote up reports on you so that they could see if their efforts were bearing fruit. I knew some of the details of what was going on because doing my job required that I know. But they didn’t tell me anything they didn’t have to. And they were right in that, weren’t they? Because in the end I betrayed their purpose. ”
She says softly, “You saved my life. ”
He is only a program, of course. A recording of the man who once cared for her, with a finite store of variations on file. He can’t have real feelings. He probably can’t even pretend to have feelings, because that wouldn’t have seemed important when he was being made, so the proper facial expressions wouldn’t be in his program set.
Nevertheless, she thinks he looks moved.
“The ainniq are the key to interstellar commerce, ” he tells her. “Yet we of Earth know very little about them. Guera has kept it that way on purpose, so that all the human worlds would be dependent upon the Guild for interstellar travel. The most perfect monopoly humankind has ever known.
“My employers—your creators—meant to break that monopoly.
“We do know that any pilot can navigate the ainniq, that isn’t a problem. Occasionally Terran thrillseekers still attempt it, and rarely—very rarely—one survives. From them we know that the ainniq gives access to a universe so alien that no human mind can truly comprehend it. The brain will apply colors to it, form and movement. and sometimes other sensations as well, but it’s clear from the few reports we have that each experience is individual, and each is utterly chaotic. ”
She knows most of this, of course; it was covered in her basic education. But there is more coming that she may not know, and so she says nothing to stop him.
“In that universe are predators. The Guerans named them sana, monsters of the deep. In outpilot slang they’re called dragons. We don’t know what they are, or how they move, or even how they feed. The Guild may have learned some of those things by now, but they’re not about to tell outsiders. The point is ... we appear to be food to them. The only pilots who can make it through the ainniq safely are the ones who can avoid them; the rest are devoured in transit.
“Which would all be a very simple problem if their world was like our own. But it isn’t. Our machines can make no sense of it. The best of our sensors can’t pick the sana out from their landscape, and apparently the normal human mind can’t either. They’re all but invisible to us, Jamisia. ” He puts his hand under her chin gently, sadly. “And that’s where you come in. ”
The wind is growing colder. She feels it distinctly, as she senses the coming darkness. She needs no scholarly discourse to tell her that the dreamscape is reflecting her mood; that much is all too clear. The sky is the color of fear.
I don’t want to hear this, she thinks.
An inner voice whispers: You must.
“You see, there’s a condition which allows human beings to see things in the ainniq ... but it destroys their souls otherwise. You know what it feels like, don’t you? I know that you do, because that experience was the trigger for this dreamscape. You carry the seeds of that sickness inside you, and I’d hoped they would never come to the surface... but if you’re running this program, then the process has started. ”
“You mean—” She can’t finish. The words are all caught up in her throat, and she can’t force them out. What happened in the gallery, was that—? She remembers her
dreams, the recurring image of the lost one crying in terror, of running to find him... was he ... oh, my God...
“I see you understand. ”
The sky has grown dark now, and she can feel the icy bite of the wind on her skin. Droplets of water have begun to fall from the sky and they splatter down on her hair and shoulders, a jarring and unfamiliar sensation. In her heart is a growing certainty that she knows what he is going to say and doesn’t ever, ever want to hear it. But it’s a dreamscape; she has no control over it, or over him.
“The price of the stars is insanity, Jamisia. Earth has known that for years. What they didn’t know was how to control the madness, so that it would only surface in the ainniq. That’s why they did what they did to you. Divided you up into separate souls, using the only method known to them. The mind is still a mystery to us; there are no easy switches to throw. I’m sorry, Jamie. Sorry about the pain. It was the only trigger they knew how to use. ”
Fragments of memories come back to her now. A lost and frightened child, buried under tons of debris. Abandoned. Pain and terror, day after day, inescapable. By the time they pulled her free, the damage was done, patterns of fledgling insanity etched into her young and malleable brain. They tested her for it as soon as she was rescued, and knew the risk. They should have seen to it that she was treated and healed. Instead Shido bartered for her, body and soul, and nurtured the darkness within her. Until her young spirit made what adaptation it could, and divided, and divided, and divided again.
“They thought it would give them control, ” her tutor says. “They thought if they could cordon off the madness into a separate persona, let it surface only when it was needed, they would have a functional outpilot. That’s why you ... that’s why Raven was taught how to fly a ship, so she could provide the technical expertise needed. There was no way to teach the sick one anything. ”
She thinks of the crying one and shudders. Was that what came into her head in the gallery? That injured soul, trapped in eternal nightmare? “So what happened?” she demands. She can hear the edge of hysteria coming into her voice and wonders if the tutor-program will even understand what it is. Did he program it to recognize such things? “You said it didn’t work. What went wrong? Tell me!”
“You know the answer to that one, Jamisia. The separation isn’t strong enough. The sickness is bleeding out from his mind into yours. You’ve felt it already, yes?”
She whispers it: “Yes.”
“He’s stronger than they expected him to be, and your defenses are weaker. Which means you can’t afford to complete the experiment. Thus far you’ve remained the dominant personality because the others are content with that arrangement, but he knows nothing of such agreements. If you let him take control now, he may never let go. ”
She lowers her face into her hands, trembling. She’s remembering what happened in the gallery, how terrified she was then that the Others would take control of her body, how she fought to keep it from happening... if that was just a reflection of the crying one’s madness, what would happen if it were fully unleashed? She remembers the struggle she had with Derik over the simple destruction of a headset, how hard it had been to regain control of her flesh when another had it, even with all the Others helping her. What would happen if he took control?
“I’d hoped it would never go this far, ” her tutor says.
The sky is nearly black now, and flickers of light flash ominously across the heavens. She tries to find her voice, tries to
force words out past the lump of fear that’s formed in her throat—
—And a scream splits the darkness. A sharp, shrill sound that cuts through the night, making the very substance of the dreamscape shiver. For a split second the image of her tutor disappears, then it returns. What—?
Another scream follows the first. A sound born of pain and fear, horrible to hear. She trembles as the Others begin to shimmer and lose substance, as her tutor splits apart into a field of binary chaos. His image reforms again, but this time his features are scrambled, and they began to twitch across his face as she watches, seeking their rightful position. What the hell is going on?
A sudden panic wells up inside her. She needs to know where he is. The one this is all about, the one whose madness may well overwhelm her if he’s ever set free.
Running. She’s running. Under the lightning-filled sky, across a landscape drenched in screams. Where is he? She has to know. He looked at her once, and his eyes were almost sane, she touched his hand! The ground rumbles and the grass begins to dissolve into code. No! No! Not yet! Not yet! She has to find him—
DREAMSCAPE ABORT
WELLSEEKER OVERRIDE
THETA SEQUENCE ABORT
WELLSEEKER OVERRIDE
ESTABLISHING BETA STAGE CONSCIOUSNESS
Awake.
She was awake.
It took her a moment to get her bearings. It took her another moment to realize that although she was still in the passenger chamber of the outship, she was now the only one there. Phoenix was gone, and the straps he had worn now hung limply down by the sides of his chair where he had apparently dropped them.
Before she could move—or even think—there was another scream, a sharp and tortured sound that ended abruptly.
It was real.
With shaking hands she unhooked her own restraining straps and got up quickly. Was the ship in the ainniq yet? There were no windows in the passenger compartment, no way to tell. She hesitated for a second and then started heading toward the direction the scream had come from. She could hear voices coming from there, but she couldn’t make out the words. Was Phoenix there, were the Guerans? What was wrong?
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