"Right. "
"But a machine, no matter what, remains just that. It cannot move, cannot physically effect the world around it. " "Except by observation. Observation changes reality on
the quantum level, and by doing so affects the eternal now of existence. "
Sinklar grunted noncommittally. "But it can't move rocks around, manipulate the material world."
"No, not to our knowledge."
"Our real vulnerability, therefore, is that we must trust its instructions on how to run our civilization. Therein lies our own weakness in dealing with the machine."
"And my head. What if the interface helmet doesn't work? If this thing can drain my mind, itwill have a lot of information-and not all of it good-to use against you."
"You're presupposing the machine wants to do that. That means it was programmed to harm human beings. And, even if it was, is the machine intelligent? Does it understand the heuristic problems of waging war against us?" Sinklar spread his arms. "Assuming it's hostile, it could show its hand by an order as stupid as something like: 'Don't grow food for your populations next year.' "'
"Or it might do something much more subtle, like reprogram the dairy feed production facilities to include plutonium in cattle feed." Staffa shook his head. "The problem is that we've come to rely so heavily on comm. By turning the system over to the Mag Comm, we lose control. It could kill us all just by a seemingly inconsequential mistake. It's your heuristic problem, all over again. The machine must deal with the 'real' world, now.
Even if it operates strictly for our good, will it understand the difference between moving ceramic tiles and moving crates of chicken eggs?"
"We'll have to be very careful."
"That goes mithout saying." Staffa stopped, rock had spilled from the ceiling on a small tunnel, but a space existed at the top. "It was dark. I was in a*hurry. Looks like I didn't do such a good job on this one. A few man-hours with vibrablades and they can clear this away. Want to crawl over the top and see?"
Sinklar shook his head. "No, I think I'll wait. " Something about tight holes, being trapped in the darkness, unable to move, made his skin crawl.
A sudden silence echoed throuEh the deep chambers. "The mining machines have stopped," Adze said as she listened to her electronic ears. "I think they've broken through.
Staffa nodded. "We'd better go back."
Sinklar put a hand on his arm. "You're not going to try anything foolish, are you?"
Staffa stared at the floor, expression sober. "Not until I know what we're dealing with."
Magister Bruen lay supine in his antigrav gurney, a prisoner, bound by the machine's gravitational fields. For without them, his ancient heart could no longer counter the stress of pumping blood through his body. His lungs, weary from three hundred planetary years of inhaling and exhaling, could no longer expand and contract the rib cage. The delicate balance of metabolism had lost the ability to regulate body temperature.
Bruen was dying, a prisoner of the technology which kept him alive.
Imprisonment, however, ran even deeper for the ancient Seddi, for now, in sleep, he remained a prisoner of his own dreams. . . .
Bruen cowered in the dark, reaching out with desperate hands, finding nothing but a dense mist. Peer as he might, no hint of light, no sense of sound reached him. Lonely and shivering, he hunched in terror.
By the slight shifts of the mist, he could feel the presence. Fear choked him as he ran his hands frantically over his bald head. Momentarily relief surged as his fingers traced naked scalp.
"No. You can't," Bruen called out, the te-rror grovAl"?, again. In the blackness, a single red light pulsed on and off. "No!" Bruen wrapped his arms about his head in a protective move. "I left you behind! I'm not wearing the helmet! "
He turned to run, stumbling randomly in the blackness, panting.
The red light appeared before him, blinking ominously. Frantically, Bruen backpedaled, fleeing back the way he'd come, only to encounter the light again.
Run as he might, flailing his arms about his head, the tendrils slipped through his scalp, piercing the bone of his skull, winding into the soft tissue of his brain.
"No!" Bruen fell, pounding his head with knotted fists, as if by brutalizing himself, he could beat the presence from inside his head.
Bruen . . . Right Thought . . . The Way. Answer me, Bruen! The violent invasion of the Machine's voice hesitated, then thundered, Elaborate! Answer me, mortal!
"I . . . No! Leave me alone!" Your civilization is about tofall.
"No, Lord. We hear, we obey. We think Right Thoughts. We are of the Way! "
Bruen sank down, cowering in defeat. You are lying, Bruen. Speak to me, human.
Let me see
your lies! You cannot hide from me. I will destroy you, Bruen, just as I have destroyed Hyde. Just as I have destroyed your civilization!
"No, Lord Mag Comm. I am your servant."
You are a liar, Bruen. The Lord Commander-despite all of my plans-still lives.
"We followed your instructions to the letter, Great One.- You RAN to him!
Vile, lying human. I could crush you, Bruen. You, foul mortal, have destroyed your civilization through your lies. Look upon the wasted bodies of your victims. Stare into their eyes. You have condemned your species. Extinction, Bruen. Space will no longer hear the voices of humans. All will be quiet . .
.Eternal.
"No, Lord Mag Comm. I . . .we, hav, acted in faith. Right Thought is ours."
The Lord Commander is a cancer in the body of your society. Like any threat to health andpeace, such a disease must be excisedfrom theflesh and the True Way must heal the wounded body of humanity. I read the intricacies of your planning and intrigue.
"There is no intrigue! I am your servant in worship, Great One! " Fear ran bright as the tendrils of control ate more deeply into Bruen's brain. "Believe me! I serve only you!"
Then why do I detect your lies? You have failed me, Bruen. For that, I killed Hyde. One by one, your populations will die. Some in war, some in famine.
Their cries shall echo hollowly off the walls of the Forbidden Borders. You shall know that you alone bear the responsibility for their extinction.
"No! I have not failed you, Lord!"
You shall spend eternity knowing their bones linger in darkness. Your ears shall ringforever with desperate cries! The darkness is closing in. Feel it, Bruen? Cold, relentless. Humans are destroying themselves. When will thefinal child reach out with numb fingers, striving to touch warmth and finding only the chill of death?
"No ... forgive me. Great One, Powerful Lord, Frn-- Unworthy, wretch! Betrayer of trust! Reap your reward! Death . . . Death - . . DEATH!
Bruen cried out in horror as the machine's power filtered through his brain, closing in to suffocate his soul. Darkness, deeper and blacker than the stygian ink of null singularity ate at the edges of his consciousness.
Implacable cold leeched at his frail flesh, sucking his life away while hideous cries tore from the throats of suffering millions. The horrible moan carried in the frozen waste.
"No! Blessed Gods, no! I didn't mean this! Help me! Please, by all that is holy, help ... me!
"Magister?" The voice penetrated the veil of terror. "Help me!"
"Magister! Wake up! It's Nyklos! You're safe."
Bruen started at the warm hands that gripped his face. Blinking the last shreds of nightmare away, he stared up into Nyklos' concerned brown eyes.
"You had a dream, Bruen. It's all right. You're aboard the CV. You're safe."
Bruen opened his mouth, words stillborn in his cramped throat.
"It's all right. I'll make sure nothing harms you." Nyklos gave him a wink, the action flicking his bushy mustache. " The machine Bruen managed to croak. In the dreams. Terrible.
"The machine can't hurt you now."
Tears began to leak out of Bruen's eyes, born of relief for the present and fear of the future.
"Nyklos, you must promise
. No matter what. You can't let them put that helmet on my head. Not again."
"You won't have to wear the helmet."
"Give me your word, Nyklos. Your word as a Seddi Master, that if they want to put the helmet on me. You ... you'll kill me first."
"Magister, I--
"Swear! Your word, Nyklos! Rotted Gods, swear it!" Nyklos frowned, licked his lips, and nodded. "I so swear, Magister. "
Gasping, Bruen turned his head away. Exhaustion numbed his thin limbs'as he tuned out Nyklos' questions. Not now, he couldn't talk, couldn't stand Nyklos'
concern. The machine killed my soul. Faces loomed out of the past. Hyde. Butla Ret, the Praetor, Tyklat, and others. Gone. All dead and gone. And with each of their deaths, another little bit of Bruen's soul had died.
After several minutes, Nyklos ceased his effort to make Bruen talk and, with a shrug, bent down in frustration to check the machine.
Bruen blinked, staring with vacant eyes at the white padding that surrounded him. White, soft, like clouds. Within his memory, the booming voice of the Mag Comm repeated. Death ... Death ... Death!
"I failed. Failed everyone. My fault, Hyde, old friend." Swimming in the mist, Arta Fera's innocent amber eyes stared up at him, beaming with worship. He'd loved her. Loved her with a passion he could barely stand.
Failed . . . failed so many.
And with each beat of his frail heart, he traveled closer and closer to Targa, the machine, and a nightmare too vivid to contemplate.
Nyklos vented a heavy sigh as he bent down to check the readouts on the gurney. The old Magister's heartbeat had dropped to normal, his blood chemistry slowly shedding adrenaline and lipids. He could hear Bruen's whispering, and it tore his heart.
Silently, he slipped away, leaving the old man in peace. One hand on the ladder rung, Nyklos looked back.
Bruen had cared too much. That, more than the machine, had broken him.
Sympathy surged at the thought. How terrible it must be for the old man to have to return, to face the machine and Staffa. Knowing that the Lord Commander might be condemning them all.
"How do you get the strength, Magister? Would I have your courage?"
A woman dressed in a black uniform sat behind a transparent tactite shield as Skyla entered the Internal Security Directorate. She glanced up, smiling, but it died on her face as she noted the pistols on Skyla's hips and the hard look in her blue eyes.
Bencheslined three of the office walls, while the tactite divider created the fourth. A door lay to either side of the receptionist's window. Despite the featureless tiles in the ceiling, Skyla could feel the surveillance monitors zooming in on her as she stalked across the floor.
"I need to see Gyper . . . now!" Skyla demanded, bracing herself on stiff arms as she stared down at the woman. "All Holy Rotted hell has broken loose! The Vegan Rep's murder is going to blow up like a supernova and we're all going to pay! Now, Rot you, clear this door and get me Rill!"
The woman gaped, paralyzed by the violence in Skyla's eyes. Her mouth worked, but her fingers pressed the clearance tab, and Skyla jerked open the door to the woman's left.
"Which way?' Skyla demanded. "Where's his officer And tell him I'm on the way!
, ,Second floor. Right. His secretary-' "Better meet me at the top of the lift!'
Skyla bulled past, stepping into the lift, ordering, "Second floor."
When she stepped out, a young man in black was hurrying down the hallway, puzzlement on his face. "Who are you? What are you doing?"
"Where's Gyper?" Skyla started to step past him. "Pus Rot us all if he's not here! We've got the whole operation falling apart! A Companion warship is on the way because of that damn yacht up there! Now, do you want to jack around all day, or do you want to get Gyper? "
The secretary hesitated, taking her measure. Having given herself up for dead, Skyla glanced back.
"This way. " He started back down the hall, "But you'd better have a security clearance when this is all over, or I'm going to snap a collar on your neck myself. "
"If you do, you'll live to regret it, pal. I wasn't kidding about that Companion warship. Her commanding officer is named Seekore, and she's not known for a flowery personality. "
The secretary led Skyla past office doors, most of which hung open. Bored, uniformed personnel hunched over comms, or talked to stassa cup wielding colleagues.
At the end of the hall stood a large desk with another tactite shield behind it. "Just a moment, I'll call the Director. Who should I say wishes to see him?"
"Give him the initials, SLWCC. Tell him I'm an old acquaintance of Ily's.
We've done a lot of business in the past, and I've been of particular service to her recently. "
At the mention of Ily's name, the secretary glanced up, nodding. He pressed his comm key. "Director? I have a woman here. She says to tell you her initials are SLWCCand she's one of Ily's people. She says it's urgent that she talk to you. Something about a yacht, the Vegan Rep, and a Companion battleship."
"Send her in," the speaker ordered.
"This way." The secretary raised a hand, leading Skyla through the tactite shielding and into Gyper's office. The Director was just getting to his feet, a worried look on his face, as Skyla pivoted on her heel to slam the secretary under the mastoid. The man's head snapped, and he jackknifed in midair, collapsing in a heap.
-just who the hell . - ."
Rill never finished as Skyla leveled her blaster. "Not a sound, Director. Not one word, or your guts are going to be aff over this office. Hold your hands out where I can see them. That's it. Where's Ily?"
Rill cocked his head, studying her through flat brown eyes. "Who are you?"
"Like I told your boy there, an old friend of Ily's - Where is she?"
Rill pursed his lips. "All right, assuming you are a friend of Ily's, I'll get a comm line through to her. If, on the other hand, she doesn't know you, you've made a real mess for yourself. You won't be getting out of here alive -
"
Skyla grinned as she leveled the blaster. "Makes two of us, pal. Now, I need to see Ily-face-to-face! She or Arta, either one. Get them in here. "
Gyper spread his hands wide. "I can't. They've both spaced. You missed them."
Skyla circled the corner of the desk. A tremble had begun in her arms. She clamped the pistol in sweat-slick hands. Don't go to pieces now, Skyla. Guts, girl. You can do this. "You're lying."
Rill shook his head, aware of her ragged control. "Not at all. And if that's your hole card, you've played your hand." He squinted, studying her. "You . .
. I know you."
Skyla gave him a hard smile as she centered her blaster on his chest. "Seekore is running the piss out of Sabot's reactors to get here. Director Rill, you're in a shitload of trouble. "
:'Seekore is a You're a Companion?"
'Do you want to get Ily on the comm? All I need to see is her face on the screen."
Rill's expression remained placid, but Skyla could tell his brain was working.
"I'd bargain. If you can get me a through line to Staffa, Fll--
' 4You'll talk now, pus gut Shivers wracked Skyla's shoulders.
He smiled. "Really? You're Silk, aren't you? Silk, you're in the middle of my Security Directorate. I didn't press the Iall clear.' That hallway out there is filling with armed people. How do you expect to get out?"
"'Bad deal, Rill. You look like a survivor. Granted, Seekore is a couple of weeks away, but if--
A buzzer rang on Gyper Rill's desk. A woman's voice noted, "Director? Two things have happened. You did not clear your alarm, and we have a young woman-Administrator Gaust's daughter. She's in the hallway with what looks like a sonic grenade. She claims she'll blow herself up and anyone who tries to capture her. What are your instructions, Director?"
Skyla took a deep breath, trying to still the quaking of her heart. "Rotted young fool!"
Rill raised an eyebrow.
Skyla nodded. "Send her up-unharmed! "Di
d you hear that?" Rill asked.
"Affirmative. You have not canceled your alert. Do you want us to take action?"
Skyla lifted her blaster, centering the bead on his face. "Your choice, Gyper.
"
"Take no action. Silk and I are still negotiating. " To Skyla he said. "Do you mind if I reach down and kill the connection she opened? Or do you want them to hear every word? "
"Kill it. The comm button only, Gyper.
He moved slowly, pressing the button. "Let me make my position clear. I don't want any trouble with the Companions. If Staffa will talk, I'm sure we can come to a mutually agreeable settlement." Rill grinned, a sparkle in his eyes.
"In fact, I can probably help him to capture Ily and Arta."
The door opened, and Lark stepped inside, glancing warily around.
"What the hell are you doing?" Skyla demanded, trying to keep the panic from her voice.
"Came to see if you needed any help. I lifted this out of your pouch when I hugged you good-bye. " She held up one of Skyla's grenades, thumb holding the detonator down. "I guess I lost the pin. Maybe I got a little too dramatic out there. "
"Rotted Gods." Skyla exhaled wearily. "Bring it here." She glanced at Rill.
"I'm going to lower my blaster. Given
the fact that this idiot child has a live grenade, I imagine you'll hold very still. If you instigate a scuffle, a lot of us could end up all over the walls in little tiny pieces."
Rill nodded, fascination on his pale face as he studied the grenade in the girl's hands.
Skyla reached into her pouch, located a clip of safety wire, and used a small pair of pliers to cut a double loop. "Now, Lark, be very careful. We'll see just how cool you can be. lbrn it, that's right. Now, the gauge of the wire is smaller than the diameter of the pinhole. We should be able to get two strands through, and tie them off. "
To her credit, Lark didn't even flinch as Skyla wrapped the wire and tied it.
"Thought you might need help," Lark repeated. "I got to thinking about what you said. About what it took to be like you. It means being brave enough to just damn the consequences and stomp in here, doesn't it?"