Exodus

by Alex Lamb

  He waited until John closed the door behind him, shutting them both into the ocean-view office, before he removed his mask. John caught sight of him and stumbled against a stack of icons, sending them bouncing off the glass.

  ‘Jesus!’ he blurted.

  ‘What the fuck was all that about?’ said Will. ‘Care to enlighten me?’

  John gaped and shook his head. He blinked and stared at the floor. When he glanced back at Will, his expression had regained a little of its suave intelligence.

  ‘Let me guess,’ he said. ‘You met another Glitch.’

  ‘Do you want to answer my question before I pluck your fucking thread?’ said Will.

  ‘Sure,’ said John. He called up a chair and sat on it heavily. ‘You deserve that. I was cleaning up your mess.’

  ‘My mess?’

  ‘The monks’ feathers had to be smoothed so they wouldn’t look for you too hard. I co-opted a few of their threads and slid certain notions into their collective discussions. What you saw was just an agent of mine reporting back about how it was going. That’s why he had my face. It doubled as a password.’

  ‘You acted like a Cancer, in other words,’ Will snarled.

  ‘Of course I did,’ said John. ‘In this business, that’s necessary from time to time, as you’ve already seen. If you’d like to propose some other way for me to realign an organisation of pseudo-Truists without alerting them, I’d be delighted to hear it.’

  ‘Murdering your own clones. Stealing their bodies. That’s normal, is it?’

  ‘How do you think they get recruits, Will?’ said John wearily. ‘They kidnap innocent threads for their disgusting rituals and turn them with torture. All I do is fight them on their own terms. I infect the infection. But even so, that doesn’t make it right. I’m ashamed every time I do it.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘I can imagine how that looked, but you were set up, Will. It was during your last dive, I bet. You’re always vulnerable then. That Glitch, whoever you met, he capitalised on it. He probably even guessed I’d make my move while you were safely under. You can’t listen to him, Will. He’s tipped into anger and he’s trying to take you with him. If you let him control you, you’ll never think straight again.’

  Will sneered. ‘Whereas with you, I’m all good, I suppose.’

  John shook his head. ‘We have our own goals, of course, but at least we’re trying to keep you alive. He doesn’t care about that. With him jerking your strings, you’ll be dead in a week. Why should he look out for you when to him you’re just a naive duplicate of himself?’

  ‘Which you’re totally confident he believes, despite never having met him.’

  John sighed. ‘Of course I’ve met him, Will. How different can he possibly be from all the others? What’s this one calling himself? Bond? Solo? Steed?’

  ‘Smiley.’

  John rolled his eyes. ‘How original. Another Surplus Age reference from your aimless, download-infused youth. Look, Will, this world is bigger and more complex than you want to imagine. That’s why I exist: to inhabit the grey areas. They happen.’

  ‘I think you’re full of shit,’ Will insisted. ‘I don’t think you even know where the grey areas are because the belief-anchors you’re so keen on keeping won’t fucking let you.’

  ‘That old chestnut again,’ said John. ‘Listen, I know about the risks. The hacks are full of weird-looking code, yadda yadda yadda. And wouldn’t it be great if we could just rip them all out and live in freedom and peace? But do you want to know what would happen if we did that? Chaos.’

  John flung out an arm to point at the door. ‘Did you like what you saw back there? Did it look okay to you? Because it looked pretty vile to me. Balance is riddled with social disease, in case you hadn’t noticed. And those anchors you hate so much are the only thing stopping that shit from spreading like wildfire and swallowing our society. Is that what you want? Are you ready to throw them all away based on some one-in-a-billion invasion fantasy? Because if you eliminate fixed social standards, you don’t get freedom, you get a power vacuum. Fuck the Photurians, we’ll murder ourselves. That’s why we move them slowly, Will. Because that’s how you do politics that works.’

  Will grimaced in disgust. ‘If what you’re doing is so goddamned noble, then why didn’t you just tell me about it?’ he said. ‘I think you’ve systematically hidden from me the scale of deviation my so-called copies engage in. You never intended for me to see that filth, or your dirty tricks.’

  ‘Got it in one,’ said John. ‘We’re hiding this stuff from you because it gets you killed almost every time because you can’t keep your shit together once you find out. Furthermore, I don’t expect that job to get any easier, because if stuff can happen in your subconscious, then it’s happening here. Somewill’s going to be off exploring it, no matter how weird or foul or esoteric. Quite literally, anything you can imagine goes. And I know you don’t like that, but that’s how it is. Also, before you ask, of course I picked a site where Balance wasn’t going to be welcome to make my exchange. Where did you think I’d do it – in the middle of Princess Willemina’s Candy fucking Kingdom?’

  ‘So are you done with that now?’ Will shouted. ‘Any more dodgy hand-offs to make? Because if you’re so ashamed of what you’ve done, you won’t mind if I go back there and yank all that disgusting subhuman shit I just saw.’

  John gave him a look both exhausted and imploring. ‘Do that and you finish us. All that social blindness they’re pumping out will vanish. Balance will be in there like a shot, trying to find out what caused the thread-loss. He’ll kill you and take down most of us. He’ll get Moneko first. Her thread history is tangled most deeply with yours.’

  Will glared at John, still half-tempted to finish him even while the man’s story added up. He teetered on the brink of killing.

  ‘Every time you walk into our bar, Will, we have a choice,’ said John. ‘We can help you and risk all our threads along the way, or we can let you die. I put my life on the line for you each time that happens because I believe it will help make this a better world.’

  Will shook his head. ‘By building a fucking map.’

  ‘Yes, by building a map. Moving hacks about. Nudging public opinion.’

  ‘Why?’ Will demanded. ‘What is your agenda?’

  John exhaled in exasperation. ‘For starters, a world where they don’t murder Glitches as soon as they appear,’ he said. ‘And then, after that, maybe one where we can discuss leaving the planet like rational human beings. Now, if you don’t want to build a map with us, by all means go your own way. Nobody’s keeping you here. Everyone in this organisation is a volunteer. If you think you can do better with this Smiley, seek him out. I won’t stop you. I’ll let Moneko know you’re going and she’ll have to deal with it. I’ll make sure you don’t hear from her again. That’ll hurt but she’ll cope.’

  Will roared his displeasure. He grabbed an icon from the nearest stack and hurled it across the room. It ricocheted off the glass twice before finding another stack to settle into.

  He pointed at John. ‘The next axiom we go for is the one about not leaving!’ Will shouted. ‘No more wasting my fucking time!’

  ‘Sure,’ said John wearily. ‘If that’s what you want, then that’s the way you’ll have it.’

  11.2: IRA

  Ira returned to the Dantes to find a decidedly unhappy crew waiting in the lounge. Mark stared out at a stormy sea with arms folded. Palla paced, her chromatophore scalp pulsing in angry waves. Judj perched on a dining chair in the corner, looking like a man who’d sucked way too many lemons.

  ‘No Ann?’ he said as he walked in with Clath.

  ‘Not yet,’ said Palla darkly. ‘She’s still going through quarantine.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Ira. ‘She was with Judj, wasn’t she? What happened down there?’

  ‘She came up on her own,’ said Judj. ‘In an enemy shuttle full of mind-raped Photes.’

  Ira’s eyebrows fled upwards. ‘What?’ />
  ‘Look, Ira,’ said Palla, ‘a lot happened, okay? We’ll get to it all. The first thing you need to know is that we have Rachel with us.’

  ‘You mean her body? I expected that.’

  ‘No,’ said Mark. ‘Actually with us. She’s having a shadow fitted right now. We made the decision to bring her into virt.’

  ‘Jesus,’ said Clath, sitting down. ‘I guess you guys were busy while we were out.’

  ‘You could say that,’ said Mark.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Ira, his head swimming. ‘How could her casket possibly have lasted this long?’

  Mark shrugged. ‘On the face of it, it looks like her crew prioritised her cryo-stability over their own. She refuses to believe that, though, and I can’t say I blame her. All she knows is that she went to sleep in the Zone and set course for home. When she woke up, she was with us.’

  ‘Then she’ll be in shock,’ said Ira. ‘When can I talk to her?’

  ‘In another day or two,’ said Palla. ‘She has a lot of tissue damage that needs repairing, as you might expect. And just so you know, we’ve been watching for signs of cognitive cascade since she woke up. We haven’t seen any. She appears to be extremely emotionally robust. One might even say unnaturally so.’

  ‘That’s Rachel,’ said Ira, cracking a smile. ‘She’s old-school Galatean. Hard as nails.’

  ‘I hope it’s just that,’ said Palla. ‘I really do.’

  Ann arrived then, striding through the door from the deck. She parked herself in an armchair and surveyed them with an amused, regal detachment.

  ‘I’m glad to see everyone got out intact,’ she said. She seemed breezy, upbeat and entirely unaware of the crackling fury that built suddenly in the room. ‘I’ve prepared a full download of my experiences and I look forward to seeing yours.’

  Mark pivoted to jab a finger at her. ‘You are unbe-fucking-lievable,’ he spat. ‘You come in here chipper as shit as if nothing happened? Rescuing you nearly ended all of us!’

  Ann’s face fell. ‘Why did you bother, then? I made it clear in my ping that pickup was optional. I would happily have commandeered a Phote starship just like I commandeered one of their shuttles. All your antics did was spare them ships, damage a perfectly good shuttle and execute four compromised Photes.’

  Mark glared at her in disbelief.

  ‘If that was your intention, you should have been specific,’ said Palla.

  ‘I assumed you’d infer my tactics based on the available data,’ Ann retorted.

  ‘And that,’ Palla said, ‘is the problem. You assumed! You left us the job of predicting the actions of a post-rational post-human psychopath who habitually courts suicide.’

  ‘If you presumed I was suicidal, then rescuing me seems particularly pointless,’ Ann growled. ‘Am I a psychopath or are you a masochist?’

  Ira felt their collective rage like a physical pressure. It squeezed the air from his lungs and made his head ring.

  ‘Could someone please just explain what actually happened?’ he said, throwing up his hands.

  Palla obliged. ‘The Great Ludik here stayed behind on the planet so that she could come back up with a piece of Photurian junk she picked out. One she found by rooting around in the rad-burned ruins of a defensive node.’

  ‘Not to mention the fact that her trip necessitated me expending the Diggory and trashing the fucking planet!’ Mark shouted.

  Ann gave him a steely look. ‘What are you complaining about? It was obvious the Diggory was going to be expended from the moment we had Phote company. And that planet you’re suddenly so attached to was home to nothing more than pond slime.’

  Ira watched Ann with mounting dread. Their anger was making her more defensive of her choices, not less. Couldn’t they see what they were doing to her?

  ‘And while we’re on the matter of tactical choices,’ Ann added, ‘I propose that we return through the Flaw. We’ve secured a military advantage but it’s only useful in shared hands.’

  ‘Does the fact that all the exit vectors to the Flaw are blocked not even register for you, or that we have fifty gunships at our backs?’ Mark roared. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

  ‘Yes, she is,’ said Judj. ‘She systematically avoided warnings on the away mission. She courted danger at every turn with zero consideration of the spillover risk to others.’

  ‘Not to mention the fact that you accepted a mission as an officer of the Galatean Fleet,’ said Palla. ‘One that does not involve continually trying to kill yourself at every given opportunity!’

  ‘My assessment is based entirely on what I believe to be best for the Galatean people,’ said Ann, rising imperiously to her feet.

  ‘Bullshit,’ said Palla. ‘It’s all about you and it always has been. You and your grand exit.’

  Ann’s eyes took on an ice-queen glow. The virtual air around her shimmered as her voice became a growl.

  ‘Spare me your petty judgements,’ she said. ‘The last forty years of my existence have been entirely about everyone else. I have emptied myself trying to help the human race. I’ve had to burn, blast and murder more than any other person in human history. The only thing left that belongs to me, so far as I can tell, is my death. So if I choose to take risks, that is my prerogative. As it is, I was not trying to die out there. I was trying to do my job. And I resent the implication that I was attempting anything else.’

  Ira’s insides felt squeezed as the python of borrowed emotion wrapped its coils around him. He identified with Ann more than he ever wanted to and couldn’t bear watching this play out. He knew what was coming next. Palla was going to reveal her secret and break the goddess.

  ‘And I,’ said Palla, ‘am sick of your self-indulgent bullshit. I don’t think you have even the first idea of the people you harm—’

  ‘A minute, please, everyone!’ said Ira, throwing up his hands. ‘Can we remember for a second that we’re all starship officers? How about we back off to think for a minute and have a dialogue based on data?’ He didn’t dare let them escalate the fight any further. ‘All Ann is saying is that we already have enough data to potentially alter the course of the war. Am I right?’ He glanced at her urgently.

  She peered at him like a bug. ‘Correct.’

  Ira continued before she could ruin it. ‘Even if you don’t buy the value of Ann’s artefact, we now have an alien ship in our hold made of miracle armour. That clinches it. If we go on, we have to accept responsibility for the fact that we’re taking a high-risk option when a lower risk option exists.’

  ‘Lower risk?’ said Mark. ‘How is fighting our way through an army of angry Photes lower risk?’

  ‘Because it’s easier than fighting through fifty armies of angry Photes when we hit Snakepit!’ Ira urged.

  ‘But there isn’t going to be a blockade!’ Mark shouted.

  ‘That’s a nice idea, but it’s conjecture,’ said Ira. ‘Did you model-test that notion?’

  Mark didn’t reply.

  ‘Ira Baron,’ said Ann, ‘my strategic assessments do not need your support.’

  Ira swivelled to face her. ‘But I’m not doing it for you,’ he insisted. ‘I’m doing it for everyone else so they can understand. So, in the name of mercy, please shut up for a minute.’

  ‘The Zone will also be guarded by now,’ said Palla. ‘Most likely on both sides. And we’d be tracked. That’s not lower risk. That’s a disaster.’

  ‘Incorrect,’ said Ann.

  ‘Please!’ Ira implored her. ‘Let me handle this.’ He spun to face the others. ‘Have any of the rest of you actually looked at Ann’s threat models?’

  Mark responded with a thin-lipped scowl.

  ‘Are they public?’ said Palla.

  ‘Of course,’ said Ann.

  ‘Why didn’t you give us a fucking link, then?’ said Palla. ‘Why did you expect us to go looking?’

  ‘Because she assumed you would!’ said Ira before Ann could speak. ‘That’s how she’s been runni
ng things on her ship for decades. She expects anticipation from every junior officer she brings aboard and that’s how her team operates. As far as she’s concerned, that’s what good officers do. Before you condemn her, understand that Ann is trying to be rational, that’s all. She’s just out of the habit of bothering to explain because for the last forty years she’s had to do almost everything for herself.’

  ‘Do you agree with her?’ Mark demanded. ‘Is that what you’re saying? That we should throw in the fucking towel?’

  ‘No,’ said Ira. ‘I don’t agree with her.’

  ‘Then why bother going through all the bullshit of trying to justify her logic?’

  ‘Because I believe her models are right,’ said Ira. ‘I’ve looked at them and, as usual, she’s done a fantastic job. But the reason I think we should go on has nothing to do with threat levels. It’s because we haven’t solved this puzzle yet. All we have are clues. There are no valid risk models for a situation like this – it’s not quantifiable. We went off the map the moment we saw that buoy and it’s been getting crazier ever since. And I believe this puzzle is more important than any perceived mission plan or scientific opportunity.’

  Ira drew heavy breaths in the quiet that followed.

  Inevitably, Ann ruined it. ‘I can’t agree with that assessment.’

  Ira lost it. ‘Of course you can’t!’ He laughed bitterly. ‘Your emotional scripting requires that you die visibly where everyone you care about can watch. That’s how you say sorry, which is the one thing you’ve been trying to do this entire time, isn’t it? Apologise. And that’s why it has to be a battle. If you only cared about dying, you’d be just as happy fighting the Photes on this side of the Zone as anywhere else. Fuck knows we have enough of them to kill now!’

  Ann stared at everyone with wide eyes and suddenly looked terribly vulnerable. Ira had a desperate sinking feeling. He’d revealed too much of the truth. She vanished from the virt like a popped soap bubble.

  Ira groaned. In the wake of her departure, a hot sense of longing radiated from the pit of his gut. He wanted her back in the room. He didn’t just want to protect her from mental harm, he realised. He cared. Ann had been a bigger feature in his life than he’d ever let himself admit. They’d been wounded by the same horrors – joined by them. His choices and her actions had welded them into the same page of history as partners in shame. He hadn’t let himself notice that before but now he couldn’t avoid it.