Halo: Cryptum

by Greg Bear

Page 22

 

  A transport flier blipped from the side of the Council ship and covered the distance to our sky dock in a few minutes.

  My father and I parted without further words. I looked back only once, to see my mother and sister on one parapet, wearing ceremonial gowns that hovered about their armor, blue and silver with streaks of vibrant crimson. And on another parapet, I saw Father, tal and steady against the red and violet sky.

  My eagerness to rejoin the Didact and perhaps meet the Librarian felt perverse, even cruel. I look back now, and wish my memory of those last days on my family’s planet would leave me forever, for they bring only an extraordinary pain. I never saw my family again—alive and free.

  THIRTY-TWO

  NO ONE COULD ever cal a Council ship luxurious or frivolous. Members of the Council served for a thousand years, and during that time took vows of personal abstinence and austerity. But at no point did power elude them, and that was the prime character of a Council ship: silken, immediate, unconstrained power.

  I learned upon arrival that this ship was named Seedling Star. Diminutives aside, it was the most extraordinary expression of Forerunner science I had ever had an opportunity to examine up close. The Didact’s memory quietly confirmed that in al but weapons, it eclipsed any of the ships ever al ocated to Warrior-Servants.

  I was escorted along lifts and enclosed tracks by two guards of the Council’s own select security, designated by sleek black and red armor. Through translucent wal s, I saw unfamiliar automatons speeding along their own tracks and tubeways; some were decorated in the most alarming insectoid carapaces.

  But more surprising stil were the numerous embodied and heavily armored ancil as. I had heard of Warrior-Servants utilizing such during battle and for other special tasks, but we encountered hundreds spaced throughout the ship, floating in serene quiescence, in apparent low-power mode, their blue, red, or green sensors dimly aglow.

  They will come alive in an emergency. They can replace human commanders, if necessary. They are a vital portion of the Council metarchy—the overall network of ancillas that support the Council.

  But compared to a metarch-level ancilla, these are mere toys.

  I could not explain my reaction: they somehow repel ed me.

  With polite firmness, the guards led me to elegantly simple quarters deep inside the ship. They then instructed the quarters to extrude a new set of armor, black with green highlights—the colors of a special advisor to the Council. My father had once been one, thousands of years before my birth. And now … it was my turn, unless these were mere spares being recycled for a peculiar guest.

  Not likely.

  “Acquaint yourself with your feeds and knowledge bases,” the senior guard instructed, pointing to me, then to the armor. “They are extensive. ”

  “Wil I access al Council resources?”

  “I have no such answers,” the guard said with a glance aside at his fel ow. “Old ways change rapidly now. ”

  They departed, and I waited for a moment before al owing the armor to surround me. I was almost afraid to view the ancil a—afraid of finding more blocks and restrictions, more obstacles to prolong my agony of half-knowledge. But when she appeared in the back of my thoughts, I recognized her instantly.

  This was the Librarian’s ancil a, the one who had lured me, tempted me. … The one who had been loaned by the Librarian to my swap-family. … The one who had led me to Erde-Tyrene.

  My first reaction was anger. “You started al this!” I cried aloud, though that was hardly necessary.

  “Here, I am truly your servant. I am liberated from the metarchies of both the Council and the Librarian. ”

  “And the Didact?”

  The ancil a flashed her confusion. This was somehow a difficult question to answer. “We are in dangerous circumstances,” she said, “but improving. I wil assist you without prior instructions and answer any questions you may have. ”

  “And who ordered you to do that?”

  “The Librarian,” the ancil a said. “But she is no longer my owner. ”

  “We’l see about that. Wil you open the Domain to me, completely?”

  At this she flickered again with ancil ary emotion. It seemed at first she was embarrassed, perhaps distressed … and then I read her display as expressing true frustration, something rarely witnessed in ancil as.

  “Is that a ‘no’?” I persisted.

  “The Domain is in flux,” she said. “No reliable connections are being made for any Forerunner, no matter their rate or form. ”

  “Is somebody going to blame me for that?”

  “It seems to be symptomatic of a disturbance in our immediate past, or immediate future. …”

  She froze. Frustrated, I stood within the black and green armor for a moment, then flexed it, feeling its smoothness and strength, but wondering if in fact it was malfunctioning.

  Slowly the ancil a returned, steady again, calm and composed, and said, “No answers available for prior question. Apologies for my delay. There is a meeting scheduled in one hour. I have been told you need to prepare by being brought up to speed on current Council personalities and politics. You have already met the Master Builder, and witnessed a first-form Council member speaking with your father, have you not?”

  “You know I have,” I said. “You know al I know. ”

  “Some parts of your memory that may be used in testimony before the Council are closed to me. And of course I have no access to that part of you which once belonged to the Didact. I hope it does not impede my usefulness. ”

  “You won’t spy on me?”

  “No. ”

  “Or ‘guide’ me according to the Librarian’s wishes?”

  “No. ”

  “But you’re here to instruct me in Forerunner politics,” I concluded, feeling slightly queasy. I had never shown any aptitude or liking for such studies. In politics there might have been treasure for others, but never for me.

  “Yes, with apologies,” she said. “Now, let us begin. …”

  THIRTY-THREE

  THE FIRST-FORM COUNCILOR sent to escort me—the same one who had spoken with my father under the cupola—was only a little older than me, twenty domestic years at most. He strode onto the platform overlooking a direct-view panorama of my family’s world, addressed himself first to three members of the security team, then turned to me—and smiled.

  This unseemly rictus shocked me. The humans might have been capable of such, but a first-form Forerunner, and a councilor at that … I met his slight bow and chest-touch salute with one of my own, executing it, I must say, with practiced grace.

  “You are quite a sight, Bornstel ar Makes Eternal,” the councilor said, regarding my (I thought) distorted form with actual admiration. “My name is Splendid Dust of Ancient Suns. My col eagues cal me Dust. Is your mutation acceptable?”

  “It is what it is,” I said, a puerile maxim.

  Again the rictus. I did not like it.

  “I have expert ancil as who can render you minimal adjustments … cosmetic, mostly. But I must say, this combination of traits has a distinct attraction. ”

  “Combination?” I said.

  “A scan upon boarding confirms that you neatly combine mental and neurological structures of Warrior-Servants and Builders, with a touch of Lifeworker. … That makes sense. It was a Lifeworker who equipped the ship that guided your mutation, and, I understand, the Didact himself who supplied the imprint. ”

  I listened and said nothing, judging that here was a Forerunner who liked to talk and liked to dominate a room quickly and easily. Al at once, I had been admired, assessed, addressed in familiar tones, and put in my place—as someone who could use a good adjustment or two.

  But the Didact within me was not easily suppressed. “Which of my patterns derives from a Lifeworker?”

  “Let’s find out. ” Splendid Dust—I could not bring myself to think of him as mere Dust—cal ed up three tiny
ancil as, who hovered behind me on the bridge and prepared to take samples and guide probes.

  “None of that!” I swung around in some alarm, but Splendid Dust smiled again, then waved them off.

  “Mysteries and surprises,” he said. “We can find out later, when it’s appropriate— when you decide. But we are not here to measure or understand you—we are here to transport you to the capital. You have been summoned by the Council to testify.

  What do the Didact’s memories tel you of Forerunner defenses, past or present?”

  “Very little, for now,” I said. “I remember and understand only what the Didact would have understood at the time of my mutation. ”

  “No doubt your ancil a has informed you the Domain is experiencing difficulties. ”

  “Yes. ”

  “The Council has stored a great deal of archival and even accounting material in the Domain. Now we can’t reliably access any of it. Fortunately, a ship like this carries sufficient knowledge to serve us, for now. ”

  “May I ask a personal question, Councilor?”

  “Ask away. ”

  “Your smile?”

  “I am part of a new pattern. More … natural. Some cal it atavistic. But rather than being subjected to many mutations over a matter of centuries, we undergo an economical series of changes over a single domestic year. Our endpoint is less rigid, less distorted and ornamental. ”

  “Who’s we, Councilor?”

  “We come from Builder families, mostly, but a few among us are Warrior- Servants. ”

  Be wary. The Didact would of course object to this deviation from tradition. At least, I presumed that was the cause of his reaction.

  Splendid Dust continued. “This leaves us with fewer inherent distortions of both anatomy and mind. Fewer prejudices … some say, less imprinted wisdom, as we have fewer mentors. We were in fact supposed to supplement that deficit with studious use of the Domain, but that’s difficult now. I feel the loss. ”

  “How many more mutations wil you undergo?”

  “None,” he said. “In a way, I am like you. We are what we are. ” And he smiled again. In silence, we studied the curve of my family’s world.

  “Wil I ever be al owed to return?” I asked after a few moments.

  “I wouldn’t forbid it. Practical y, who can say?”

  I studied him. He did not seem to mind. In their range and flexibility, his expressions reminded me of both young Manipulars and human beings. I wondered if that was a good thing. No. I didn’t like it much. And yet I liked humans, mostly.

  Then we were shunted out of planetary orbit and my family’s world grew smal .

  Within a few more minutes, the Council ship harnessed a great deal of vacuum energy to flatten the curve of our stel ar orbit, and the planet where I was born vanished completely.

  “How did you become a councilor?” I asked.

  “A number of my peers have been given … you might cal them brevet appointments. My appointment is temporary. ”

  Revolutionary party. What about the Master Builder?

  “Are we in a state of war?”

  “Forerunners have been in a clandestine state of war since the Didact defeated the human forces at Charum Hakkor. ”

  “War against the Flood?”

  “Soon enough, those details. Now, however, we are about to institute a Supreme Mantle Court. The Phylarch of Builders has reinstated the corps of Warrior- Servants, and joined with them to cal for judicial proceedings. Matters both of law and strategy wil be decided by the Council and the court. ”

  No such proceeding had ever occurred in my father’s lifetime, much less my own.

  Not good.

  “Not good,” I echoed that internal judgment.

  “Perhaps, but necessary,” the councilor said.

  “When may I learn more about this state of war?”

  “Soon, I hope. ”

  “Is the Flood upon us?”

  “Ah! The Flood. For ten thousand years, that threat has propel ed the strategy and politics of Forerunners everywhere—and distorted some of us to the point where we would violate al we have stood for. We are now far more aware of what the Flood was and what it has become. Most knowledge gives strength, Bornstel ar.

  This knowledge, however, has nearly driven us mad. And I’m concerned it may have the same effect on you … with your Warrior imprint and al . ” He afforded me the same focused expression with which I had been scrutinizing him … and then smiled once more.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because we have been told to give you and your ancil a access to al the information carried in this Council ship. Information withheld from al but a few Forerunners for thousands of years. I myself have only been privy to key parts of it for a few months. ”

  With that, the young councilor had two of the ship’s guards return me to my cabin to begin what he cal ed, with a twist of his lips, my period of “enlightenment. ”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THE PHYSICAL JOURNEY between my family’s world and the capital of the ecumene ordinarily takes less than two hours. For reasons not immediately explained to me, even traveling in the superfast Council ship, our trip took three days. Al of space-time in this portion of the galaxy—perhaps al of the galaxy—was stil disturbed. More than fifteen times we experienced the unavoidable effects of slipspace jump and reconciliation; an ordinary journey might have entailed one or at most two passages.

  * * *

  The relief of being out of the possible clutches of the Master Builder seemed to open up substantial parts of my imprinting. Perhaps my other memory was coming to trust me as wel . I stayed to myself, using the extra time to explore the possibilities of self-discovery and integration.

  My cabin became my universe.

  At last, certain streams within the Didact’s memories of the Flood opened to me— a welcome if gradual flow of memory and knowledge. I had come to understand the Didact enough that his sympathy for vanquished humans and San’Shyuum did not completely surprise me—and he had indeed felt sympathy, even regret. The war had not been a fair fight. With the Flood ravaging human systems on one side, and a tide of human migration away from danger pushing them into Forerunner territories, a grand tragedy had been inevitable. The Didact felt this acutely.