Chapter Fifteen
“Good day, Your Highness.”
Selaris hopped a foot off the ground when the hologram materialized in the center of her apartment, and she had to grab onto the kitchen counter to catch her breath.
“I apologize if I startled you,” the hologram said. “I do hope your meeting with the Council went well.”
Sighing, Selaris peeked around the corner into the adjacent rooms. “Thomas? I thought I told you to stop breaking in here.”
“Thomas? Is that the fetching young lad who’s been lurking around here recently?”
“I’m sure he’s been lurking, anyway,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. She didn’t see or sense him anywhere, but with Thomas that didn’t mean much. His powers were the weakest of any of the other potentials in the city, and that made him especially difficult to track. “Do you know when he left?”
“Not long ago. I shooed him away before dinnertime.”
Selaris nodded and turned back to the hologram. Thomas had given it to her a few weeks ago as a birthday present. His goal had been to create a fully-interactive virtual intelligence to aid in her new duties as a city councilor. It had been an incredibly thoughtful gift…except for his bone-headed decision to model the projection’s ghostly visage after her late father. The moment he’d flicked it on she’d run screaming out of the room. Somehow, she doubted that was the reaction he’d been hoping for.
Still, it summarized Thomas well enough: well-intentioned but about as socially graceful as a Krosian at a bridal reception. He’d based the program’s personality on the “best historical leaders” from the Keledonian Archives, including many of her own ancestors, and he’d changed the appearance into a generic-looking human man in his mid-forties. The voice was different, too, but the accent and inflection were still eerily similar to her father’s, right down to the long “As” endemic to the western Ukuru province where the Gantrell family had lived for centuries.
Thomas had sworn to make it all up to her eventually, and so he’d been casually breaking into her house during the day to work on the program. This, apparently, was the result.
“I need you to power down for the time being,” Selaris said. “Markus and Lord Foln are supposed to arrive any minute.”
The hologram glanced up to her, one fake, bushy eyebrow jutting up. “Markus again, hmm? I thought I told you to stop spending time with that boy. He’s trouble.”
Selaris crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. Yes, Thomas had definitely been fiddling with the program, and apparently not just the aesthetics. “Is that so?”
“I know you enjoy his company, and I’m thankful for all he’s been able to do to help you and the other students…but I’m worried you’re getting a little too close to him.”
“I bet you are,” she muttered. Apparently she was going to have to change her passcodes again, though she doubted that would stump Thomas for more than a few minutes. Maybe a simple beating was in order instead…
“Markus a dangerous man, Your Highness,” the hologram warned. “He was a Convectorate agent for a long time. I know he claims to be on our side now, but a man can’t just walk away from something like that without serious scars to show for it.”
“Speaking from your immense personal experience, no doubt.”
Its face scrunched. “My personality profile is derived from numerous individuals with highly diverse backgrounds and experiences. I have seen men like Markus Coveri before, and they are always dangerous.”
Selaris snorted. “I can’t tell if you’re supposed to be my father or some cheesy caricature from a low-budget holovid drama.”
“Of course I’m your father,” the hologram said, hopping to its feet. “And you had best—”
The image winked out mid-sentence, and Thomas leapt out from the bathroom with his hands up in the air. “Sorry, sorry…you weren’t supposed to be home just yet.”
“And you’re not supposed to be here at all,” she reminded him. “I told you to stop breaking in.”
“I know, I know,” he said sheepishly, swatting a rebellious clump of bright orange hair out of his face. “But I really wanted to fix it for you. I think it will help you a lot. None of the other semi-sentient holos have been programmed with any of the data from the original Keledonian archives. It’s a pain in the ass to try and sort through all that stuff. I don’t want to lose our history—imagine if I could turn this into a virtual tutor for the classrooms here.”
Selaris sighed and rubbed at her eyes. Staying mad at Thomas was like staying mad at a puppy. He was always well-intentioned, just…kind of an idiot.
“Look, if you want to work on this thing, just take it with you,” she said. “I could toss you in jail for busting into the house of a city councilor, you know.”
His face flushed. “You’re not serious.”
She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll just throw you across the room the next time we’re training instead. You saw what I did to that statue last week.”
“Oh,” he mumbled. “I’ll, uh, grab the projector and take it home with me.”
Selaris smiled to herself as he dashed over to the table and scrambled to get the device together. “I didn’t realize you considered yourself a ‘fetching young lad,’ by the way. And I’m reasonably sure my dad didn’t, either.”
“Uh, I was just running some tests with its personality profile,” Thomas said as he picked up the projector. “It still needs some work.”
“Maybe try scaling the intelligence package down to a Mark II or III but with better search-and-find capabilities,” she suggested.
His face sagged, and she felt a wave of disappointment wash over him. “I…suppose I could do that.”
“I’m just teasing,” Selaris soothed. “I know that’s beneath you. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll figure something out. I’ll stop by and see how it’s going tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you then.” He stopped when he reached the door and turned back towards her. He didn’t exactly meet her eyes, but then again he almost never did for some reason. “Sorry again for all this. I just…you know, I wanted to fix it.”
She smiled. “It’s okay. Really.”
Thomas nodded and tapped the keypad…and then dropped the projector on the floor when the door slid open and Markus was standing on the other side.
“Mr. Coveri!” he yelped.
“Hello, Thomas,” the other man said, glancing down to the metal cylinder now rolling across the floor. “Something wrong?”
“No, no, I just didn’t realize anyone was coming over. I, uh, I need to get back home.” He snatched up the projector, glanced once more at the older man, and then dashed out the door.
“Like a teenager slipping out of the bedroom window,” Markus snickered.
“He’s been trying to tweak a holo-assistant he made me for my birthday,” Selaris explained. “The problem is that he keeps breaking into my apartment to do it.”
“Gives him an excuse to see you,” Markus replied with a coy smile. “He’s a good kid.”
“Well, I hopefully put an end to it. Anyway, please come in and have a seat. I just got home a few minutes ago and I haven’t had time to prepare any refreshments or anything.”
“No need,” Markus said, stepping inside and sitting down on the couch. “This won’t take long. I just wanted to ask you about the data crystals.”
“What about them? Have you had any luck so far?”
He sighed and sat down on the couch. “No, and that’s the problem. I don’t think the information I’m looking for is there to begin with.”
“That’s…troubling,” Selaris whispered. “How many of them have you gotten through?”
“All of them,” he told her. “It only took a few hours—they’re a lot more intuitive than a conventional database. I tried again and again yesterday, and nothing came of it. The information just isn’t there.”
She frowned and sat down next to him. “You’re
sure you picked up the right crystals? Maybe the others were destroyed with the ship.”
“We didn’t find any others. I think the more likely explanation is that the crew of the Damadus never actually found a cure. Something must have happened to them first—judging from the bodies we found, the Koro Effect might have gotten to them.”
Selaris swallowed and glanced away. Her father had never been a big believer in the Damadus—he’d always dismissed it as a legend, and he insisted they focus on rebuilding their civilization in the here and now rather than praying for a miracle cure. She’d always agreed with him, but she knew that Markus thought differently. He didn’t believe that a handful of barely-trained Flies would ever be strong enough to stand against the Convectorate.
She’d never understood why. With the things he could do…if he would just take the time to teach her and the others, then they wouldn’t need anyone else. But he was always so fixated on the Mire and all the “normal” people in the city that he seemed to forget all the potential weapons he had sitting right in front of him.
“Have you mentioned this to Foln?” she asked softly.
“Not yet,” Markus said with a tired sigh. “He won’t believe it. You know how obsessed he can be about his grandfather—he thinks the man was infallible. He won’t accept that the Damadus Project might have been a failure.”
“It seems like he’ll have to eventually. Of course I’m sure Revask and Tavore will be secretly thrilled at the news…”
“It might not be a lost cause just yet,” he said, pulling out the lone violet crystal from inside his pack. “For some reason I can’t manage to link with this one. It’s supposed to be a personal log—maybe even Krucius Foln’s personal log—but I can’t get inside and I’m not sure why.”
Selaris studied the crystal and ran her finger along the outside edges. Unlike the others, it was warm to the touch. “Do you think maybe he encrypted it somehow?”
“That was my first thought, but I’m not sure how you go about encrypting raw telepathic data. It must be something else.” Markus pressed his lips together and seemed to brace himself. “I was thinking it might be worth letting Jen take a crack at it.”
Selaris blinked. “What? You mean disable the collar?”
“Only briefly, but yes,” he said. “We could surround her with guards, and there’s no way she could contact the Widow or the other Spiders from here. The risks would be minimal.”
“What makes you think she’d have any more luck with it? You two were trained together, right?”
“Soldiers get the same training, too, but they don’t have exactly the same skills,” Markus pointed out. “Psionics are just like any other skill—people have their own inherent strengths and weaknesses. I don’t know if she can get in or not, but I think it’s worth a try.”
“The Council would throw a fit if they knew you were even considering this.”
“I’m aware. That’s why I wasn’t planning on telling them.”
Selaris winced. “You sound like Foln. And I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“Like I said, the risks are minimal, so there’s no reason to start a ruckus,” he assured her.” But I did want to mention it to you.”
She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. She could hear her father’s voice in the back of her head warning her about excluding the others. He firmly believed in what he called “deliberative decision-making.” In other words, the more important the decision, the more vital it was to hold an open discussion with the rest of the Council. The other races needed to feel like equals here, otherwise any hope of lasting peace was doomed from the start.
But then he’d gone off and unilaterally allied with the Mire, and the rest of the Council had been furious. Except for Zalix, of course. Father had described the man’s reaction to her before— not bitterness or rage like the others, but a profound sadness that the one human he’d finally trusted had betrayed them. Selaris still caught a glimmer of that same disappointment in the old Thursk’s eyes every now and then when she allied with Foln against the wishes of the others.
“I’m not sure this is something we should do without consulting them,” she said, opening her eyes. “They didn’t choose to bring her here, and I’m sure they’d appreciate having a chance to talk about this.”
Markus sighed and stood, then paced over to the other side of the room. “They’ll appreciate having the chance to shoot it down,” he muttered. “But maybe you’re right.”
“There’s another option. Why not let me try it? Or one of the other Flies?”
His expression didn’t change, but she could feel his mental wince. “Well, frankly, none of you have anywhere near the training that Jen and I have.”
“You just said that every psychic had his or her own strengths and weaknesses,” Selaris reminded him. “How do you know one of us wouldn’t excel at this type of thing?”
“I don’t,” he conceded, “but I’m also not sure how much I trust any of them to handle sensitive information like this. You, on the other hand…do you feel confident enough that you can maintain control?”
“I don’t see why not,” Selaris said, trying not to think about her “episode” the other day when she’d smashed her dresser. “Besides, you’ll be here just in case, right?”
Markus sighed again and pulled out the slender violet crystal. “I suppose so. Here.”
She reached out and took the small stone, and the moment her fingers brushed against the smooth surface she could feel its power tingling up and down her skin. “So what am I supposed to do now?”
“Hold onto it and concentrate, just like if you were trying to recharge a capacitor. In theory, it should accept your connection and let you in.”
“Okay,” she whispered as the tingling intensified. This was her opportunity to convince him that she was more than just a damaged little princess. She could prove to him that she was worth teaching and then—
The tidal wave of information crashed over her so swiftly that her breath caught in her throat. At first she feared she might drown beneath the incomprehensible deluge of thoughts, feelings, and pictures…but once she forced herself to calm down and concentrate on one thing at a time, the flood slowed to a manageable trickle. She saw a planet floating before her—the same planet, she realized, as the one she’d seen just a day ago when she’d nearly lost control. But this time there were feelings attached to the images. The planet evoked a sense of disdain and derision…and when the thermonuclear fire returned and the atmosphere filled with smoke and ash, she was overwhelmed by a sense of righteous joy.
Selaris didn’t understand how anyone could feel that way over the devastation of what appeared to be a lush and vibrant world, but before she could figure it out the images shifted. Now she was looking at a wide, dim chamber filled with shadowy figures. They were human-shaped, but she couldn’t see their faces. All she knew was that when she looked upon them, a geyser of unremitting hatred erupted inside her. She’d never felt anything so raw or primal before…but she knew she never wanted to again.
Eventually the figures vanished and the hatred subsided, and her mind’s eye flashed with another familiar sight: a starship idling in deep space, its corridors littered with broken corpses. She’d seen this the last time, too, but now she could make out more details. The bodies were human, though she didn’t recognize the uniforms or clothing. Another surge of emotion followed, and she feared she’d be overwhelmed by hatred again…but instead she felt a rush of grim satisfaction. And somehow that was even more disturbing.
The image shattered before she could investigate any further, and she became dimly aware of multiple voices calling out to her. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw a dark blur in front of her face.
“Your Highness,” a voice said. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” Selaris desperately tried to swallow, but her throat was impossibly dry. “What…?”
“You blacked out,” the voice told her. Eventually h
er eyes started to refocus, and she made out Doctor Varm’s weathered face hanging just above her. “We were worried you’d slipped back into a coma.”
“I’m sorry,” Markus said from her other side, his hand running through her hair. She was in his lap, curled into a tight ball. “I never should have let you do this.”
“I’m fine.” She gently pushed his hand away and leaned up. They were still in her apartment, except now Foln and Varm had joined them. Peering outside the closest window, she noticed the city lights had dimmed. “How long was I out?”
The doctor’s face scrunched with concern. “Almost three hours. We tried to pry that crystal from your grip, but you were holding onto it like a bloody vice. Markus thought it might actually be dangerous to separate you from it.”
“I could feel it linking with you, but I couldn’t tell what it was trying to communicate,” Markus said. “I’ve never heard of any data crystal acting like this before.”
“It was too much to handle,” Selaris whispered, running a hand across her brow. Her skin was deathly cold. “I saw a few random images, but they didn’t make any sense. I don’t know what to think about it.”
“For the moment, you should stop trying,” Doctor Varm told her. “Your soropan production is through the roof, and your body’s going crazy trying to supply energy to that brain of yours. I’m tempted to give you a sedative.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Really. I just need a few minutes.”
“I’m sorry,” Markus repeated, squeezing her hand. “This was a terrible idea.”
“I’m all right,” Selaris soothed, smiling at him. “I’m tougher than I look.”
Eventually, he smiled back. “I know.”
“Tough or not, right now I want to move you to your bed and run a few tests just to be sure,” Varm said in his most grandfatherly voice. “Davin told me to take care of you, and I don’t intend to let him down.”
“All right,” she conceded, standing and shuffling over to the adjacent room. “What are you going to do with the crystal now?”
Markus glanced down to the violet stone again and twirled it in his fingers. “Honestly, I’m not sure. It seems like you made some progress, so there must be a way to get inside. I’m not sure why it didn’t respond to me.”
“Right now you should be focusing on the other crystals,” Foln said.
“I just told you there’s nothing on them. Nothing about the Pandrophage, anyway.”
The older man scoffed. “I find that highly unlikely. The entire purpose of the Damadus was to find a cure, and my grandfather didn’t leave tasks unfinished. You must not have looked hard enough.”
Markus pursed his lips in frustration. “Linking with these crystals isn’t like sorting through a normal database—it’s not simply a matter of putting in the ‘wrong’ query and coming up blank. The crystals know exactly what you’re looking for, and if the information is there, they point you to it. There’s nothing else for me to find. If your grandfather did manage to find a cure, then either it’s on this last crystal or it was lost when the Dowd blew up the Damadus.”
“The cure is there,” Foln said flatly. “It’s just a matter of finding it.”
Markus sighed. “Well, then it must be on this one, and I need help accessing it. Vale may be our only option.”
“I could try again later,” Selaris offered. “I’d like to make sense of the images I was seeing.”
“Absolutely not,” Varm told her. “I’m not going to let you put yourself back in a coma.”
Markus nodded. “He’s right; it’s too dangerous.”
She grimaced as the doctor attached a cold scanner to her forehead. “Well, I don’t think you should let Vale try it, either. That’s too dangerous.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Foln murmured, scratching at his cheek. “We’ve pushed the Council as far as they’ll go for the moment. Give it some time, and get to work on the other crystals.”
“Fine,” Markus murmured. “I’ll try again and see what happens, but I’m telling you there’s nothing to find. At this rate it’s looking more and more like the good doctor is going to be our only hope.”
Varm grunted. “I’ve nearly finished a new sample, but don’t expect a miracle. I’m too old to handle that kind of pressure.”
“Let me know when it’s ready, Henri,” Foln said, turning and striding for the door. He glanced back over his shoulder once he hit the keypad. “And keep studying the crystals.”
With that he was gone, and Markus shook his head in frustration. “He doesn’t want to listen.”
“He’s gotten less and less interested in that over the years,” Varm said soberly. “I’ve told him a thousand times that I’m never going to be able to cure this thing, but I’m not sure he’s ever heard me. The serum is a stopgap measure at best, like plugging a coolant leak with flexifoam. It’s not a long-term solution.”
“I know,” Markus whispered. He stared vacantly off into the distance for a moment before reaching over and squeezing Selaris’s arm. “I’ll come back and check on you later.”
“All right,” she said, smiling again. “I’ll see you then.”
Once he was gone, she turned to the doctor. “If you’re going to make me lie here a while, can you hand me my holopad?”
He cocked a bushy eyebrow. “You can’t just relax for a few minutes? Children and their toys these days…”
“I’ve been studying the medical database again when I have time—you should be proud.”
“Well, when you put it that way…” Varm stood and grabbed the pad from the nearby desk, then frowned when he glanced down to it. “Landai’s?”
“Yes, I found some additional research in the old Keledonian archives.”
His cheek twitched. “You know, I hate to say this, but I think you might be better off studying something else. You’re too close to this, and I’m not sure this is healthy.”
“The more I know about it, the better chance I can use my powers to cure it someday,” Selaris countered, reaching out and snatching away the pad.
He glanced back down to his scanner, but she could feel the tension in his mind. Tension and…fear? She frowned and tried to trace it back to its source…
“Your soropan levels are rising again,” the doctor warned. “You need to relax, dear. I’ll give you a sedative just in case.”
“No, I’ll be all right,” she assured him, setting the pad back down. “Maybe you were right and I should just lie here for a while.”
Varm smiled, though it seemed more relieved than contented. “Good girl. You stay put and let me get you something to drink.”
Selaris laid back and watched him as he walked away, Revask’s warning popping into her mind once again. Doctor Varm had been right there at her father’s side when he’d passed, but she refused to believe he could have had anything to do with it. Her father had trusted him implicitly; Henri was a good man, not to mention one of very few humans left in the galaxy with significant medical training. She’d been trying to learn as much as she possibly could from him over the last few years, and he’d been a patient teacher. To think that he could have possibly done something to her father was ridiculous.
And yet…
She tilted up the holopad and frowned at the display. There was no mistaking the apprehension in his mind when he’d seen what she was studying. Was it legitimate concern that she’d become obsessed with the disease that had killed her father, or was it something else? Was he worried she’d learn something that would incriminate him?
“Sapella tea, straight from the hills of Ukuru,” Varm said when he came around the corner with a steaming cup. “Or maybe it’s just resequenced bio-matter straight from the food processor, I never can tell.”
Selaris forced a smile as she grabbed the cup and took a sip. “Thank you.”
“It was hard work hitting all those buttons in the right order,” he replied dryly. “But you’re quite welcome. Now lean back and let me ta
ke a few samples. I want to make sure you’re not going to have a seizure before I head home.”
She nodded and closed her eyes. It was absurd to think that this man had murdered her father. Revask was just trying to drive a wedge between her and the Mire, hoping it would benefit him politically. That was all there was to it.
Besides, she had other, more pressing things to worry about right now, like trying to convince Markus to let her link with the data crystal again. The images it had shown her had to be important, and if she could figure them out then maybe she could be the one to unlock the cure to the Pandrophage. That would be even better than learning how to cure Landai’s. She would be the savior of her entire race.
And then no one—not the Council, not Foln, not even Markus—would be able to ignore her ever again.
The Spider and the Fly Page 26
