He drew up by the other machine. It was about the same size and shape as his own, if in rather better condition, and oriented at ninety degrees, the vertical axis longer than the horizontal. It rode inside the cup of still gas behind the open diamond shelter trailing behind the RushWing, near the port limit of the ten-kilometre wing. Wary - unable to be anything else - he noted that the two enclosures on either side of the one holding the other small gascraft were each occupied by large Dwellers who looked rather young to have given themselves up, even temporarily, to a life of high-speed, high-altitude contemplation. The nearest few tether points beyond those on either side were all empty.
- Come on in, the other machine sent, moving forward until its nose nestled into the inner surface of the diamond enclosure. He pulled in behind, wobbling in the sudden pool of still gas after the howl of slipstream.
They were almost touching. Most of the upper surface of the machine facing him turned transparent, showing somebody who certainly looked like Aun Liss lying nearly fully prone in a high-gee seat. He saw her fight to raise an arm and wave, a grim expression on her face that turned into a grin as she looked out at him. He de-opaqued what he could of his own gascraft's carapace, though the results weren't perfect.
Fassin didn't even try to smile back.
- Think you could point that thing away from me? she sent. He saw her grin. - I realise this is the first time I've ever said that to—
- No, he sent back, still pointing the Voehn gun at her.
- ... Okay, she sent, smile vanishing. - So, welcome back. Good trip?
- No. You got a manipulator you can use in that thing?
- Yes. Won't claim I'm an expert, but . . .
He moved his own gascraft forward until it was centimetres from hers. - Talk to me the old way.
He saw her frown, then smile uncertainly. - Okay, she sent. - This might be a bit, ah ... He could see her shifting her gaze to look down at her right forearm, lying squashed on the cradle-arm of the gee-chair. She looked like she always had, and at the same time quite different. Hair dark, not blonde or auburn or white this time. The high gravity and her attempt to look at her arm as she worked the unfamiliar manipulator interface gave her jowls. He was already fairly sure it was Aun, but he was still quite prepared to kill her.
The manipulator came out slowly, unsteadily. Fassin kept his own well out of the way, still holding the gun on her. The two big Dwellers on either side hadn't made any move. The manipulator came forward and touched the hull carapace of his own little gascraft, finger ends spreading awkwardly.
In the end, he saw, she had to close her eyes to do it. The fingers on the abraded, nearly insensitive gascraft's skin spelled out, . . . SS ( ) . . . SOL ( ) SOTL ( ). He could see her getting frustrated. He watched the expression on her face deepen into a profound, eyes-tightly-closed frown as she struggled to make the manipulator do exactly what she wanted. He felt tears prick his eyes again. Though he could still shoot her, or himself: anybody.
... SO STL CRZY? she managed at last, and her eyes opened and she flashed a hugely relieved and pleased-with-herself smile at him.
He switched the gun off.
They rode together in the still ball of gas behind the cup of
diamond, held on a deep curve of line behind the RushWing's thin blade.
- Not us. That wasn't us. Not guilty. It wasn't even the Starvelings, murdering fucks though they may be.
- Then who did do it?
- The Mercatoria, Fass. They killed your people.
- What? Why?
- Because they found out that Sept Bantrabal had kept whatever they were sent that briefed you. They were supposed to junk it from the substrate as soon as it was finished but they didn't. It wasn't quite an AI like they sent to the Hierchon, but it had a lot in common. It was a big step along the way to a true AI and it was onward-engineerable. That's why. The attacks we and the Starvelings were making gave them the cover, but
even if the truth got out, it would just reinforce how seriously they took the no-AIs thing.
Fassin supposed it made sense. Old Slovius had always been looking for an edge, some advantage over the other Septs. That was what had brought Bantrabal to its position of prominence over the years. It sounded plausible, sounded like something Slovius would do and browbeat his underlings into doing. And certainly he'd put nothing past the Mercatoria.
- And how do you know all this? he asked her.
He saw her shake her head. - Spies everywhere, Fass, she told him, almost rueful. - We have a lot of friends.
- I'm sure.
Did he believe her? Well, until further notice.
The Beyonders had known about the List, about the Transform. Like, it seemed, a lot of people, they had known long before he had. He'd only discovered what he'd stumbled upon during that long-ago delve when he'd been told along with everybody else by the projection of Admiral Quile in the Hierchon's palace. By then the Beyonders had long since sent their own fleet to the system Zateki, believing - like the Jeltick who had first deciphered the information he'd retrieved and had understood its significance - that the Transform was there, in the Second Ship. And they'd already met defeat at the hands of the Voehn. Half the fucking galaxy seemed to have been buzzing round Zateki, searching for a ship that wasn't there, if it even ever had been, and meanwhile he'd known nothing.
- You could just have asked me to look for it for you, Fassin told her.- I'd have started the search for the Transform in Nasq. centuries ago if you guys had just fucking asked.
She looked at him for a long time, an expression on her face of ... he wasn't sure: sadness, pity, regret, despair?
- What? he sent.
- The truth? she asked him.
- The truth.
- Fassin. She shook her head. - We didn't trust you.
He stared back at her.
Fassin told her what he thought he'd discovered, what he believed he'd worked out. She didn't believe him.
- You coming with us?
- Can I? May I?
- Of course. If you want.
He thought. - Okay, he sent. He thought some more.
- Though I've one last person to see first.
*
When the visitor arrived, Setstyin was water-bathing. This was a new fashion, not unpleasant. His servant announced that Seer Fassin Taak was here to see him. Setstyin felt surprise and elation, and a kind of delicious, if slightly grim, anticipation.
'Tell Seer Taak I am very delighted indeed to welcome him,' he told his servant. 'Ask him to wait in the upper library. Do all you can to make him comfortable. I shall be with him in ten minutes.'
'Fassin! Wonderful to see you! I really can't tell you! We thought - well, we really feared the worst, I swear. Where have you been?'
Fassin didn't seem to know what to say. 'I don't think you'd believe me if I told you,' he said quietly, eventually.
The little gascraft floated in the middle of the library. The circular space was lined and floored with crystal stacks. Light came from a translucent ceiling and a single great door giving out onto a broad, rail-less balcony.
Setstyin's house was in the city of Aowne, mid-gas in the equatorial zone. Deep orange and yellow clouds swung slowly past the wide window.
'You think so?' Setstyin said. 'Do feel free to try me. And,
please, is there anything I can do? Come, let's sit.'
They rested in a pair of dent-seats with a low table between them. A rather more substantial and grand desk lay just to one side.
'Well, it's a long story I have for you,' Fassin said.
'My favourite kind!' Setstyin exclaimed, gathering his long robes about him.
Fassin took a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. The fellow seemed, Setstyin thought, dulled, a little slow compared to how he'd appeared before.
Fassin told the suhrl something of his adventures since he'd last seen him, aboard the Planetary Protector (Deniable) Isaut. He also told him a little more of what he'd
been doing before, as well, apologising for any hesitations or forgetfulness; he'd been through a lot recently and some memories were still sort of shuffling their way forward into the light again after being lost. He didn't say exactly what it was he had been told to look for and bring back, and he wasn't able to tell the Dweller very much that happened after the Voehn attacked the Velpin, but he went into as much detail as he felt was possible.
'I don't understand,' the Dweller said. 'You're saying you were . . . you were in other stellar systems? You were on the other side of the galaxy? I ... I just don't . . .'
'I could not have been more sceptical myself,' Fassin said. 'I did all the tests I could think of, but I certainly seemed to be in the places the truetwin captain claimed I was in.'
'They can do wonderful things with fully immersive VR, you know,' Setstyin said awkwardly.
‘I know. But this was either real or something well beyond even fully immersive virtual reality.'
Setstyin was silent for a moment. 'You know - and please, don't take this ill — you do look rather, ah, beaten up, Fass my boy.' The Dweller was looking at the various dents and scars that the little gascraft had picked up during its last few months of use. The malfunctioning left manipulator arm hung awkwardly at the flank of the arrowhead, slightly out of true. Fassin felt almost ashamed of the gascraft's appearance, as though he'd turned up in a rich gentleman's library in dirty rags.
'Yes,' he agreed. 'As I say, I won't pretend my memory is all it used to be. The gascraft's storage has suffered and my own brain doesn't seem to be as sharp as I remember it being.' He laughed. 'But I know what I saw, what I felt and heard and tasted. I stood on rocks watching the swell-waves of a salt ocean breaking, and I was really there, Setstyin. I was there.'
The Dweller ruffled his sensory mantle and made the tiny up-and-down sigh-motion. 'Well, I'm sure you believe what you believe, Fassin, and I would always tend to believe you rather than not. However, many other people wouldn't be so forgiving. I'm not sure it would be a good idea to make too big a fuss about this.'
'You could be right.'
'And ... I mean to say ... If this wormhole thing is so secret, why were you taken to - or apparently taken to - the far side of the galaxy, or to anywhere . . . anywhere outside Ulubis?'
'To prove the myth was real. Some people, some Dwellers, think it's time for change. They might not know all the details, but they want the truth known. Nobody wants to take responsibility for just telling a non-Dweller, but some bumpkin might be pushed in the right direction. And that's me, I suppose; bumpkin number one. Deniable bumpkin number one.'
'And this . . . travelcaptain? Who was he again?'
'A truetwin.'
'Yes, I've heard they often are. I didn't realise they even pretended to travel so far afield. What was his - their name?'
'You'll forgive me if I don't betray that confidence.'
'Of course, of course.' Setstyin seemed to think. 'So, if there is this, ah, wormhole thing near Nasqueron, who does it belong to? Who controls it? And, it has to be asked, where exactly is it? Aren't they rather large and obvious, these wormhole ports?'
'They can be made quite small. But yes, you'd think people would have noticed them by now.'
'Well, yes.'
'And I'd guess they're operated by a club or fraternity or something like the same sort of organisation that takes care of planetary defence.'
'Hmm. That would be ... fairly obvious, I suppose.'
'That's why I came to you, Setstyin,' Fassin said. 'I wondered if you'd heard anything about this, about a group of Dwellers who used these portals.'
'Me?' The Dweller reacted as though surprised, almost shocked. 'Well, no. I mean, none of this would be the sort of
thing I'd normally get involved with. But, this would be quite something, would it not? I mean to say, if it turned out there was this wormhole here all the time. Wouldn't it?'
'There are stories, myths, about a whole network of them.'
'This Dweller List?' Setstyin paused, then stared. 'Is that what you were looking for all the time?'
'Not the List, the Transform that was supposed to hold the key to the List,' Fassin said.
'And did you find it?'
Fassin was silent for a moment. Setstyin watched the little gascraft make a show of looking around the library. 'Is this place quite private? I mean, secure?' Fassin asked.
'I should hope so,' Setstyin said. 'Why?'
'Can we signal, rather than speak, Setstyin?' Fassin asked. 'It's not as easy for me as speaking, these days, so bear with me, but it is more secure.'
- Of course, the Dweller sent.
- Well, I think I might have found the Transform, the human sent carefully.
- Really?
- ... Really.
- You will understand if I am a little sceptical.
- Only natural.
- Where did you find this Transform?
- On the body of that dead Dweller, in the Ythyn Sepulcraft, on the far side of the galaxy.
- Ah-hah. What ever was it doing there?
- It was in a sort of safekeep box.
- And who would put it there?
- I don't know.
- And what did this Transform consist of?
- An equation.
- As in mathematics?
- That's right. It looked a bit like what some people had come to expect it to look like - a code and a frequency for a broadcast signal of some sort - but in the end it was just an equation.
- And this was supposed to unlock the List thing?
- That's what we were all told.
- Hmm. But?
- But, when I solved the equation, guess what?
- Oh. Ah, I have no idea. Do tell.
- It came out at nothing. Zero. The Transform turned out to be, in effect, a contrived mathematical joke.
Fassin signalled a laugh.
Setstyin shared the amusement. - I see. So, if this is what you were sent to look for, you might be said to have succeeded in your mission, though not in the manner you might have wished. Yes?
- Those were pretty much my thoughts, too.
- Well, at least you missed all the unpleasantness of this inva-sion your people have suffered. Thinking of you, I've been watching the situation. It all looks quite distressing. And still going on. And affecting us, too. There were explosions around
Nasqueron just yesterday. Did you see any of them?
- I did. I hear there's a rumour that the invaders might be about to pull out.
- Possibly our planetary defence people again. There have been the usual denials, of course. Umm, I'm afraid even if I did know more, I couldn't talk about it. You understand.
- Of course. So, Fassin sent. - You don't know anything about these wormholes? You've never heard of them? I just thought, you being so well connected . . .
- All news to me, Fassin. Possibly some small group might have control of such things, though I find that hard to believe, frankly.
- Ah, well, Fassin sent. He was silent for a few moments.
- Yes? Setstyin sent.
- Well, Fassin replied slowly. - I did have an idea.
- An idea? Indeed.
- What if the Transform answer wasn't a joke?
- Not a joke? But it's zero. What use is that?
- You see, Fassin sent, and the little gascraft nudged forward a fraction on the dent-seat, closer still to Setstyin, - I had thought, what use would an equation be, after all this time? How could it tell you anything useful? A frequency and a code to be broadcast on it was the only thing that really made sense; then these worm-
holes could be hidden anywhere in the named systems and only activate themselves when needed. So the fact it was an equation at all made it kind of pointless even before it was worked out.
- I'll take your word for it, Setstyin told the human. – You are rather losing me here, but it all sounds terribly convincing.
- And then there was all that absurd twistin
g and spiralling when I was aboard the ship heading through the wormhole portals. Being cut off from external senses seemed obvious enough, but why the spiralling?
- Umm, yes, in the ship. I see.
- And just the fact that all of Dweller society does seem like a proper civilisation.
- Now you really are losing me, Fass.
- And you obviously possess technologies that we still haven't understood.
- Well, we're like that. Us Dwellers, aren't we? Oh dear, I think all this is upsetting my balance.
- You see, if the Transform means what it says, what it's saying is that the adjustment you have to make to each entry on the Dweller List to find out where the wormhole portals are in relation to those original locations named is ...
Fassin held the little gascraft's working arm out, inviting Setstyin to answer.
The Dweller ruffled his sensory mantle, which had gone a slightly odd colour. - I'm sorry, Fassin, I feel positively dizzy.
- Nothing! Fassin sent. - The adjustment is zero.
- Is it? Is it really? I'm sure this is fascinating, really.
- And what was the original List based on, what did it give?
Again, he gave the Dweller a chance to answer, but he didn't.
- It gave the location of Dweller-inhabited gas-giants! Fassin put a sort of triumphalist joy into the signalled sentence.
- I see. I do feel slightly off, Fass. Do you mind if I . . . ?
Setstyin rose, wobbling slightly, and roted over to his desk.
He started opening lockers and drawers, then glanced up. 'Keep going, keep going,' he said. 'I have my medication in here somewhere.'
The Dweller signalled to his servant while he looked through the drawers, keeping his signal pit below the level of the desk, out of sight of the human in his gascraft.
- Was Mr Taak armed in any way?
After a moment: - No, sir. The house checked automatically, naturally. Aside from his manipulative devices, he is unarmed.
- I see. That's all.
The arrowhead swivelled to keep line-of-sight with the Dweller.
- The List doesn't need the Transform, Fassin told Setstyin.
The Algebraist Page 59
