Iron Gods

by Andrew Bannister

  It fascinated Vess. It also helped to distract him.

  They had to sedate him in the end. He had no recollection of anything after he had been told of his – infection; but Clo Fiffithiss told him he had needed to be forcibly prevented from trying to kill himself by lowering his head and charging full speed at a tree. A guard had intervened, and then two, and eventually four. Vess wasn’t sure if he was grateful.

  He had come round to find himself lying on a couch in the middle of a fat white toroid that buzzed. He had tried to shake his head, but found it was immovable. He was strapped down.

  Over the buzz he heard a thin-sounding voice. ‘Awake? Try not to move.’

  The straps just about allowed him to expand his chest. He took a breath and asked, ‘Will this kill it?’

  ‘The infection? No. We can slow its progression, though, if you will keep still long enough for me to complete the scan.’

  Vess fought the urge to struggle. Slow? Not good enough. Kill; he wanted this thing killed. ‘Can you operate? Take it out?’

  ‘No. I can’t do anything if you don’t keep still. Be quiet and do as you’re told.’

  He managed, just.

  Half an hour later he was off the couch and looking at the small elderly simian-looking owner of the voice. It had a testy expression.

  ‘Do you know when you were infected?’

  He thought back to his summons from Vut. ‘Nine days, I think.’

  The medic nodded. ‘Consistent with growth. Fortunate.’

  ‘Fortunate? How?’

  ‘The larvae are approaching maturity. Also, vascular changes in the source suggest it is approaching end-of-life.’

  Vess stared at the creature. He could feel his pulse clicking in his toes. ‘End? When it dies …’ He tailed off.

  ‘No.’ The shake of the head was emphatic. ‘Not when. If.’

  ‘There isn’t an if. Or-Shls told me.’

  ‘The Chairman of the Board knows many things, but not this thing.’ The doc grinned, showing a lot of yellow teeth. ‘My role is to preserve life. Its, and thereby, yours. Please be good enough to lie down and turn over.’

  It was an old-fashioned hypodermic injection. It hurt, very much. Vess welcomed the pain – it meant something was happening.

  Then it stopped. He rolled over. ‘Is that it?’

  ‘For today. To repeat, every day. You will probably need an assistant.’

  He tried to reach round to the injection site, and felt his arm cramp. ‘Every day?’

  ‘Injections for five days, and close monitoring. If that goes well, if the infection is stabilized, then other treatment to maintain the position.’

  ‘Maintain? For how long?’

  ‘For as long as it works. Do not be deceived; you are not immortal, and nor is it. Meanwhile I suggest you go and find the entity that infected you.’

  Vess sat up sharply. ‘Why?’

  ‘It had its reasons for doing this. If I were you I would want to know them. And besides, it is probably the only creature in the Spin that can undo what it has done.’

  The word undo buzzed round Vess’s head. He let it, for a moment. Then he looked up at the medic. ‘Why would it undo this? That’s how it reproduces.’

  The doc grinned again, wider. It wasn’t all teeth; at the margins there were pale shrunken gums. Vess tried not to look away. ‘No, infected former Harbour Master. You have been extrapolating from the thoughts of Chairman Or-Shls. That’s how their ancestors reproduced. Vut are more modern; their reproduction would happen in nice clean tanks of nutrient. Doing things the old way is done for other reasons. I think they want to be asked what reasons. And perhaps if you ask nicely, there will be a prize.’

  You will be watched, more closely than you can imagine, he thought. And then his unbidden mind added a coda – watched, or watched through?

  He thought for a long time. Then he looked up at the medic again. ‘Somehow I think it wants to be kept alive,’ he said. ‘Do the best you can?’

  The grin had gone. The little creature gave a serious-looking nod. ‘Perhaps,’ it said. ‘Taking the simple view, alive for it equals alive for you. Why not be simple?’

  Because simple is too complicated, thought Vess. I’m missing something, but I don’t think I’m missing much. I don’t think.

  Out loud he said, ‘Yes, simple is good. Keep it alive.’

  He never got used to the injections – they were exactly as painful, every single time.

  Fortunately the pain was transient. After a few minutes it subsided to a hot, stabbing throb that was merely unbearable until Clo Fiffithiss showed him the broad leaves of a particular tree.

  He had looked doubtfully at them. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really and truly.’ The creature performed a sort of insectile shrug. ‘They are strongly analgesic and mildly stimulant for your kind.’

  Vess pinched a corner of the big flat dark-green leaf between finger and thumb. ‘What do they do to your kind?’

  ‘Very different chemistry. Hunting herbs.’ The reply was short; it didn’t invite elaboration.

  Vess lifted the leaf to his lips and chewed a corner. The taste was neither pleasant nor unpleasant – at once a little bitter and quite spicy. It made his palate tingle. Then the tingle faded, and with it so did the pain in his back. He rubbed himself cautiously, then smiled at Clo Fiffithiss. ‘It works!’

  ‘Of course it works. I know these forests like the back of my claw. Now you are uncrippled, shall we walk?’

  Vess walked. Clo Fiffithiss split its time between its own multi-jointed version of a walk, and hauling itself through the tree canopies where they dipped close to the ground. For a while, neither of them spoke. Then Clo Fiffithiss dropped out of the branches and landed upright in front of Vess.

  Vess stopped abruptly, almost tripping. ‘What?’

  ‘Vess, we have known each other for a long time and I have never seen you angry.’

  Vess nodded. ‘That’s probably correct.’

  ‘Not probably. It is correct, and I have always explained it to myself successfully by referring to your natural calmness and confidence. But I still don’t see you angry, and under the present circumstances I cannot explain that to myself by any means.’

  Vess looked around, found a fallen trunk at around knee height and lowered himself down on to it. ‘Perhaps it’s inexplicable.’

  ‘Nonsense. What’s going on?’

  ‘With me? Only what you can see. I am walking – sitting – in the agreeable woods of the private estate of the Chairman of the Board, in the company of one of his employees. What else can there possibly be to see or hear?’

  He let himself emphasize see and hear, just a little.

  Clo Fiffithiss was quite still for a long moment. Then it made a complicated gesture with three claws. It was the equivalent of a conspiratorial grin. They walked on in silence, and kept it up.

  On the fifth day Or-Shls threw a party.

  Vess had been cleared by the medic that afternoon, after another run through the scanner.

  He had tried not to be nervous, but the journey through the machine had seemed to take a long time. Eventually it was over and he was standing, staring at the image. As far as he could remember it looked the same. He turned to the medic. ‘So?’

  ‘So, your passenger is in rude health.’ The little creature gave an elaborate shrug that made it seem as if it consisted entirely of shoulders and elbows. ‘That is, it is physically healthy and in no immediate danger of dying. Intellectually it is probably senile at best, and brain-damaged at worst, but that should not concern you.’

  ‘It isn’t a passenger.’ Vess stretched, trying not to focus on the sensations in his back in case he noticed something. He failed, but there seemed to be nothing to notice. ‘What treatment should I have now?’

  The medic reached round to a table behind it and brought out a package. ‘Have you used a hypo jet before?’

  Vess shook his head.

  ‘It’s
not difficult but you would probably benefit from someone to help. It needs to be applied to the base of the spine – it is a continuation dose of the compound I have been injecting directly into the creature. Every day, Harbour Master, and don’t forget, and don’t miss.’

  He had carried the warning back to the forest, where he had increasingly lived for the past few days – apart from his daily walks with Clo Fiffithiss, it was warm enough to sleep outdoors, and he preferred that to spending time in Or-Shls’s house. But when he got back to the forest he found most of Or-Shls’s household there before him.

  The clearing he had seen first had been seamlessly expanded. Where there had been room for a tight circle of stone benches, there was now a wide glade. There were no signs of tree stumps; whatever work had been done, had been done very fast and had left no traces. Vess allowed himself to be impressed.

  It was early evening; lights glowed along the branches above him, and the air smelled of sunset and hot food.

  Or-Shls stood as if he had been ready to greet him, arms spread. ‘Harbour Master! Welcome – although with your recent residence in these woods perhaps you should be welcoming me?’

  Vess looked round. A lot of people were carefully not watching him. He let himself smile a little. ‘Chairman, if I should – then you are welcome.’ Then he looked round more ostentatiously. ‘But it seems that you have numbers on your side when it comes to welcoming. What is the occasion?’

  Or-Shls managed to spread his arms further. ‘Do I need one? Apart from your good health, which has been reported to me.’

  Vess said nothing, but kept his eyes on the other man’s face. The deeply buried eyes gave nothing away, but after a few seconds the fat lips twisted into a smile. ‘Very well. Later we will talk of things. Including alignment of interests, if you remember that phrase? But for the moment let us enjoy ourselves. You have been in – or near – my house for some days now, but you haven’t yet enjoyed even a tenth of its advantages. Enjoy them now.’

  Or-Shls made a complicated gesture, and the ground fell away beneath them. Seconds later they were surrounded by the night sky of Basin City. Warm air rose from the city below and made brief damp banks of mist at the edges of the circle. They didn’t seem very far away.

  Vess looked round. The limits of his world were a hundred metres from him, an edge half hidden in the trees.

  ‘Right,’ he said. ‘So, when do we bring on the dancing girls?’

  They were on a platform, lowered from the floating continent that was Or-Shls’s domain. There were indeed dancing girls. And boys – although at first they weren’t dancing. Most of them were only lightly clothed and the rest were naked. They waited in a loose group amongst the trees at the margin of the clearing, their hips poised and their eyes glistening. Vess thought they looked a little like snakes. Or-Shls seemed proud of them.

  ‘Look, Vess! Unadulterated beauty and unlimited availability; what more can you ask? Come here!’ He raised a hand and four of the dancers broke away from the group and walked towards him. The two females had broad hips and rounded bellies; the males were typically thick-chested elongated triangles. Vess assumed they represented his host’s taste.

  Or-Shls grinned. ‘This is Vess. He is famously reticent. See if you can rouse him from his torpor.’

  The four exchanged smirking glances and began to walk slowly towards Vess. He held out both hands, palms outwards. ‘No.’

  The group looked nonplussed. Or-Shls spread his arms. ‘Just no? Not even an attempt?’

  Vess turned away from the four. They were close enough for him to catch the scent of their bodies – perfumed oils overlying basic musk. ‘I don’t need any attempt. Let them dance, if they like.’

  ‘Oh, very well.’ Or-Shls waved the four away. ‘Go and dance, children, or find someone who wants you to do more than dance.’

  They obeyed, grumbling a little, and Vess noticed that they managed to do even that prettily. When they were gone he turned to Or-Shls. ‘Well?’

  ‘Well, indeed.’ The big man sighed. ‘Vess, I attempt fun very rarely and this time you have impeded me. I suppose you now expect me to be serious?’

  Vess smiled. ‘You can be serious, Chairman, or you can be flippant. But if you don’t do something to explain why I am here and what you expect to happen next, you can,’ he paused and gathered emphasis, ‘fuck off.’

  Or-Shls raised his eyebrows. ‘Serious and offensive? I am astonished – but not surprised. Very well, Harbour Master. We shall be serious, but you will forgive me if we are serious to music? That at least I demand of you.’

  The music was ethereal, a distant whimpering that swelled and faded like a restless wind. Something about it set Vess’s teeth on edge.

  Or-Shls seemed to enjoy it. He listened for a while, his head tilted back, eyes half closed. After a while he shook his head, and smiled at Vess. ‘Do you know the Algonet?’

  Vess shook his head.

  ‘Such beauty, and sweetened by such cost.’ His gaze hardened. ‘But you’re getting impatient. Very well. I am about to share something with you. Share it in turn and you will die as many elaborate deaths as technology can arrange. Understand?’

  Vess thought. Then he shook his head again. ‘The Gamer,’ he said. ‘I want to share this with Clo Fiffithiss. I assume you trust him?’

  Or-Shls’s eyes glinted. ‘No I don’t, for the same reasons I don’t trust you. But I sense you are hardening your position.’ He raised his voice. ‘Gamer?’

  It was a summons. A moment later there was a rustling beside Vess, and Clo Fiffithiss was next to him.

  Or-Shls gave a tight smile. ‘Never far away, I see. Right. Field down, please.’

  Vess looked around for whoever the man had spoken to, but couldn’t see anyone. Then he jumped.

  The rest of the platform had vanished. A couple of metres outside the stone seat, it ended in a hissing, greyish, wetly luminescent wall which steamed where it met the ground. Vess looked up. The wall curved in to form a dome two metres above him.

  He raised his eyebrows at Or-Shls. ‘Field?’

  ‘In a way. Superheated steam held in a charged magnetic matrix. So they tell me. Don’t touch it.’

  ‘I won’t. What are you going to tell me?’

  Or-Shls leaned forward. ‘Alignment of interests. The medic tells me that you need to find Vut?’

  ‘That’s what he said.’

  ‘So do I.’

  ‘Why don’t you go and look for them, then?’

  ‘I have. It didn’t work. I don’t think they want to be found by me. I think they want to be found by you.’

  Vess shook his head. ‘Cryptic isn’t helping, Chairman.’

  ‘I expect not. Do you remember this?’

  A patch of air in front of him fuzzed and became a star field. For a moment it looked unfamiliar, but then Vess’s mind caught up – there was the ragged curve of debris he had been shown in the Lay Palace.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘So? That’s none of my business. I remember.’

  ‘It might turn out to be everyone’s business. I intend to make it mine. Have you heard of a planet called Traspise?’

  Vess searched his memory. ‘Faintly. What about it?’

  ‘It was destroyed ten thousand years ago; the first planetary total loss in a million years.’

  ‘What destroyed it?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Or-Shls sat back. ‘Something. Something that was found by someone; some ancient machine.’

  Vess shrugged. ‘Tech levels were higher then. Perhaps they had all kinds of machines for destroying planets.’

  ‘Did they have machines for making them?’

  There was silence. Vess stared at the image for a long time. ‘I get it,’ he said eventually. ‘You think it’s the same thing.’

  ‘It might be. Or another of the same kind. And if it was, wouldn’t we want it?’

  Vess laughed out loud. ‘To do what? Blow up a planet? Or make an arc of radioactive debris?’

 
Or-Shls shook his head. ‘No, Vess. To wait, while people incentivize us to do neither.’

  ‘You’re insane.’ Or I am, he added to himself. This is another virtual reality; in a moment I’m going to wake up in a torture chamber.

  But he didn’t. Instead he watched Or-Shls. After a while the man re-settled himself on the bench, sucked on the pipe and spoke through a cloud of vapour.

  ‘Things have changed since the image you saw was taken. Look.’

  Vess leaned forward. ‘This image was taken from a different direction from the last one.’

  ‘Correct, Harbour Master. And not by us.’

  Vess looked up sharply. ‘By someone Outside?’

  ‘Far Outside, yes. Clo Fiffithiss?’

  The creature unfolded itself. ‘Images can be analysed … this one was captured by something within a quarter of a million kilometres of the debris curve, closing at speed.’ It paused, and added, ‘Substantial speed. The sort that can be attained by a Main Battle Unit, for example.’

  ‘Oh.’ Vess looked at Clo-Fiffithiss, and then at Or-Shls. ‘Our stolen Sunskimmer?’

  Or-Shls smiled.

  ‘You know where they are?’ Vess felt his eyebrows climbing.

  ‘I always knew that, Vess. Now I know something more interesting; I know where they were going. I think our friends Vut know too.’

  Light began to dawn. Vess nodded slowly. ‘No longer extant,’ he said.

  Or-Shls looked down again and spoke towards the ground. ‘We have had a certain level of contact with those in Web City. Nothing detailed, just an understanding of their direction of travel. It was never enough for us to influence their actions more than a little but at least we had some foresight. Now that has been cut off without warning. There is a suggestion that there may have been an abrupt change of leadership.’

  ‘A coup, in other words?’

  ‘In other words, yes.’

  Vess looked from Or-Shls to Clo-Fiffithiss. ‘What difference does that make to us?’

  ‘You are being obtuse. To where we were, not much. To where we may go, perhaps a great deal.’ He pursed his lips. ‘A planetary-scale arc of rubble appears, followed by a new green star, and then the nearest civilization breaks the habit of half a thousand years and stops talking to us, possibly as a result of a coup? I’m no Gamer, Harbour Master, but I suggest this has significance.’