"You've got that right. When I wake up, my heart is pounding and I'm drenched with sweat."
"The most important part is the doorway, Skyla. When you see yourself walking into Itreata and look back with Arta's eyes."
"That's the important part? Not the rest?"
"The doorway is a transition, the portal through which you pass from one reality to another. What is fascinating about it is that Arta's eyes are in your head. Eyes in a dream are symbols for you to see, to understand. In this case, Arta has already violated your last sanctuary, the last place where you feel safe. She's inside you. Where else can you go to be safe? "
A shiver ran down Skyla's back. "After hearing that, I may never dream again."
"Solve the problem and you won't have to. The answer is there, Skyla. The imagery is fairly straightforward. Naked means defenseless, totally vulnerable. You were raped on your bed. Beds are sanctuary images. Arta watches you the whole time, eyes never blinking, just watching. Will you see what your mind wants you to? The illusion of freedom is shattered by the interrogation room. You give Ily critical information. When she has what she needs, she disappears. Finally, you scream your anguish, the statement of your inability to play the part of the savior. Arta mocks you as she changes identity, possesses your body, and enters the one place you can't fight her-in your own sanctuary.
"You're not worried about me, Skyla. Deep down inside, you never really have been-or if so, only for a brief moment. Something else is terrifying you.
Something you told Ily and Arta."
"And you think it's in the part of the interrogation that keeps repeating? "
"That would be my guess. That's the part that's straight out of your memory, isn't it?"
Skyla swallowed hard and nodded. "I didn't know you were alive when that took place. No one else did either. Does that make a difference?"
"I don't know, does it?"
"Holy Rotted shit!" A chill washed over Skyla. "The final sanctuary. The one place we'd never look for her. And she's got the means to walk right through the main hatch!
The pressure lock at docking bay 16-A gleamed under the bright lights of Itreata. Through the transparent tactite the bulbous nose of the Regan CV
could be seen where the grapples had clamped it in their choke hold.
Umbilicals had found the appropriate orifices and were nourishing the big vessel.
Ily walked behind Arta as they stepped past the last hatch and into the spartan concrete bay With its musty smell, cool air, and glaring lights. Ever vigilant, two STU stood at the rear of the large room, and a small knot of people waited.
Arta seemed incredibly cool as she walked purposely forward, a smile on her perfect lips, excitement sparkling in her amber eyes. For Ily that trip across the unforgiving concrete was like a death march. One false statement, one wrong move, and it would all be over. Those flint-eyed STU wouldn't hesitate.
They would shoot them down on the spot.
'Lady Attenasio? " one of the women said as she stepped forward with a smile.
She wore white coveralls and held a, pocket comm in her hand. "Do you remember me? I'm Bell Lavender. "
Arta smiled, offering her hand. "You'll have to forgive me. It's been so long. The Praetor ... well, the less said, the better. I'm afraid that the days since the escape from Pylos haven't treated me kindly. You'll forgive me if I don't seem myself. It's nothing a little rest won't cure."
Lavender glanced down at her pocket comm, probably checking vocal patterns.
Ily forced herself to stare straight ahead. Monitors would be zooming in on their eyes, sensors scanning them for weapons or any other potential security hazard. Even as she realized that fact, the computers would be reading her retinal patterns, searching for a match-and by the Blessed Gods, the modifications made on Ashtan had better be enough.
"I worked with your domestic staff," Bell said with a smile. "Security thought that a familiar face might make your homecoming a little easier."
Arta gave the woman a warm smile, inclining her head. "My compliments to them.
It's been a long difficult journey, Lavender. Diane and I are more interested in a hot shower, a real meal, and some solid sleep than anything else. If you'll direct us to security so Staffa can get his quart of blood, skin sample, thumbprint, eyeball holo, or whatever else he's added to the list, we would greatly appreciate it. "
Bell inclined her head, the smile still perfectly in place. "Diane? "
"Diane de la Luna," Arta informed her. "My Vegan associate. CV 720 belongs to her clan."
Ily nodded appropriately and kept her eyes downcast. It wasn't going to work.
Even now, an alarm was buzzing somewhere. Ily consciously reminded herself to maintain a little slump in her shoulders and back.
"This way," Bell told them warmly.
They walked past the concrete bastions that cradled a heavy sialon pressure door, and Ily placed her hand on the security plate that recorded her new dermatoglyphics. She stared into the peephole that made a perfect record of her
retina. A micropipette took a tiny DNA sample, and she was through.
Arta followed, apparently completely at ease. The security officer acted gracious, a model of professional efficiency, and finally asked, "Lady Attenasio, are you aware that the Seddi cloned an assassin from you?"
Ily's heart threatened to burst through her chest.
Arta never missed a beat. "The Arta Fera clone which the Praetor provided Magister Bruen. Yes, quite. She might have my DNA, sir, but she can't have my memories. " Arta glanced around, masterfully at ease. "Itreata has one of the finest psychologists in Free Space. Andray was my professor on Ashtan before it . . . when I was a girl. Just to mention a historical irony, Andray arrived here after I was abducted. I never got to see my dream come to fruition." :,I remember that." Lavender Bell nodded.
'How long did Andray's depression last? He could always be . . . well .
Arta smiled politely.
:'Moody. "
'Did he . . . ever marry? Quite honestly, I hadn't thought of him until recently or I would have asked.
:'No. He's something of an iconoclast. "
'Sometimes that happens with bright people. " Arta frowned. "Knowing him, I would guess he's probably been on your security lists. I imagine being here without me has been something of a trial for him."
The security officer nodded, obviously catching something through his earpiece. "It would seem that youdo know our professor. Arta Fera wouldn't have such information. I think that will be all. Your rooms are waiting, Lady Attenasio. "
"Relax," one the security officers told Ily. "I guess this is your first time through a security system like this. Nothing to it."
Ily grimaced and bobbed her head, unwilling to speak and give a vocal pattern for the recorders. For the moment, they'd be concentrating on Arta. After all, if she were genuine, who'd worry about the servant? So long as the computers didn't tag her with Ily Takka's ID, they'd register a new one for Diane de la Luna and record all the observations made today of her modified body. The only potential flaw would be the DNA test. But if the preliminaries were negative, would they take the time to run it?
And iff they do, we'll be deeply hidden in this rock by the time the results come in.
Thus reassured, Ily followed the entourage to the aircar and climbed into the rear while Bell chatted aimlessly and Arta smiled pleasantly. The vehicle made a faint humming as it started into the long white corridor, past the familiar diplomatic quarters and into the guts of Itreata.
Ily sat stoically, unwilling to believe it had been this easy. For the second time in her life, she was carried into the heart of Staffa's impregnable fortress. And this time, the Lord Commander would learn just how terrible the price would be.
Two stories down, and half a kilometer away, STO Roberta Wheeler, the officer responsible for Itreata Security watched the aircar bearing Chrysla Attenasio and her party.
The center where she stood func
tioned as the brain for Itreata's security forces. The room consisted of banks of cathode screens, fire alerts, pressure sensors, and a host of other detection devices and holo cam pickups. The whole was tied into the Itreata comm.
From the moment Lady Attenasio set foot on Itreata, the information had been processed here, with specialists interpreting the data, measuring pupil dilation, skin temperatures, and searching for any indication that this woman was not Chrysla Marie Attenasio. To date, Wheeler had no reason to doubt her identity. The fact that Lady Attenasio had arrived earlier than expected triggered no immediate concern. After all, political strategies didn't necessarily require security to be notified at every step of the process, especially at a time when so many factions were at work in Free Space.
"What do you think? " one of men watching the aircar stop before a doorway in the personal quarters asked. Wheeler leaned forward to stare over his shoulder. "My
inclination is that she's Chrysla. This Fera assassin is reported to be half wild, psychologically disturbed. Not only that, Chrysla's story about Professor Sornsen checks out. Hell, I didn't even know that's how he got here.
Where would Fera have learned that?"
"TWo women in a CV,- another of the operators noted. "We've got a warning out."
"And do you think Takka and Fera would just dance right into Itreata? "
Wheeler shook her head. " Chrysla was completely at ease, as if she didn't have a care in the universe. The servant was pretty jumpy but not out of line for a Vegan of that social class entering the stronghold of the feared Companions. Retinal data, fingerprints, and chem-code don't match between de la Luna and Takka. Still, go ahead and run a complete DNA.
"Gillian?" Roberta asked, as Lady Attenasio and her servant bid their escort good-bye and entered the living quarters. "What's your assessment?"
From a monitor which ran archive footage of Ily Takka's first arrival, an analyst compared Ily Takka's actions, body language, and behavior with Diane de la Luna's.
"STO, I don't see much resemblance. " Gillian pointed to the Takka tape.
"Here, see? When Ily entered the first time, she was looking for everything.
Totally observant. She's spotting the monitors almost by second nature. De la Luna, in contrast, simply fixes her gaze on people, she's defensive and reactive unlike the active Takka. You might consider monitoring their conversations for a while. See if we can get a good vocal print to compare with Takka's. "
STO Wheeler straightened. "Data at this time indicates that we're dealing with the real Chrysla Marie Attenasio. We'll accept that."
"Stand down?" one of the seconds asked.
"Not completely." Wheeler frowned at the monitors as the view inside Chrysla's room was switched off. "I've still got a crawly feeling about this. I want a log of all comm usage she makes. No monitoring of dialogue, just the notation of who or what was accessed. If anything sensitive is tapped, alert me at once. Ham, get a subspace off to Gyton, check to make sure Lady Attenasio departed before the match with Rega One. Also, alert the Lord Commander that Lady Attenasio is on Itreata. I want an STU placed at her door-and to accompany her everywhere. For her personal safety, you understand. Finally, every move she makes outside of that room will be monitored."
STO Wheeler strode into the middle of the room, calling, "And, people, let's remember something. This is the Lord
Commander's wife. Until otherwise determined, she gets the treatment and respect she deserves. I want her watched but I want it done with discretion!
Get the drift?"
"Affirmative," echoed from around the room.
CHAPTER 38
Hours ago we finished the macroengineering phase of the construction. The electrodome is fully and firmly attached to Countermeasures. Humans have never built anything like this. The compressional and tensile strength of the graphite and sialon is without equal anywhere in Free Space. if you could develop the thrust, you could literally push a planet with this thing -
But evidently that isn't what this structure is designed to do. The electrodome itself, while incredibly strong, would prove too brittle around the edges to push a planet. No, whatever the Lord Commander wants to propel is small, something to fit inside the dome and take a charge. A nickel-iron asteroid? Is that the idea? But why not build an accelerator-some sort. of advanced rail gun-and blast away at the Forbidden Borders? But that would be a futile exercise since nickeliron rocks would melt against neutronium.
I keep trying to wring understanding out of this project in spite of the fact that I've wrung myself dry Enough for now. I've got to get some sleep. The big stuff is done. Now the real work begins: fixing all the twinky little bugs in the system. You know, the ones that will inevitably show up when we start testing, and testing, retesting, and testing some more.
I have a feeling the coming weeks are going to be Rotted Hell!
-Excerpt from Dee Wall's personal journal
A big roaring fire burned in Staffa's fireplace as he drew a bulb of Ashtan single malt from the jeweled dispenser. From
the corridor monitors, he could time the action of drawing a second bulb, and he offered it to Sinklar precisely as he passed through the air lock and into Staffa's plushly furnished main room.
Sinklar wore his usual unadorned Regan military fare and the battered equipment belt. If anything, Sinklar's shock of black hair was in greater disarray than usual-and that contemplative expression Staffa had grown so used to lined Sink's face.
"Special occasion?" Sinklar asked as he took the drinking bulb.
"We're in null singularity. For a while I don't have to live in the command chair on the bridge."
Staffa walked over and settled on the overstuffed redleather couch, indicating that Sinklar should sit beside him. "To freedom," Staffa toasted as Sinklar dropped onto the cushions.
"Freedom, " Sinklar agreed, watching the light that passed through the amber-filled crystal as he lifted the bulb. "And another success." Staffa gestured at the air above
them, tapped a stud on his belt comm, and a holo sprang to life in the indicated space.
Staffa's amusement grew as Sinklar gawked at the image. Someone might have chopped a giant ball precisely in half and rested it in a multi-finned support that narrowed to a heavy neck. Behind that, the caricature of a Class VI Formosan freighter-the big boxy model-appeared dwarfed and half-disguised under a bunch of lumpy blisters.
"What is it?" Sinklar asked, squinting. "Countenneasures. Modified, of course, to the specifications given us by the Mag Comm." Staffa sipped his single malt and kicked a le out as he admired the craft. "This just came in moments before we went null singularity. Dee Wall forwarded it to me along with a lot of cryptic suggestions that he'd really like to know what it's for."
"That's the secret? That's going to break the Forbidden Borders? How? I mean, what does it do?"
"For one thing, it costs a lot. About half of my assets are tied up in that construction." Staffa shrugged. "All I can tell you is that it's the most powerful artifact ever built, capable of producing nearly two billion tons of thrust. The
compressional strength of the central structural support appears to be great enough to drive through a neutron star."
"All right, I'll bite. Which planet are you thinking about moving? I'd say it was a moon. Itreata?"
Staffa slowly shook his head. "The electrodome isn't sturdy enough to take that sort of load along the rim. No, this is something different. It's meant to move something massive, that's apparent. From my study, however, I don't believe the dome actually touches the object." He smiled. "I don't think you would want it to."
"But you think you know."
"What would you say if I told you that I suspect it's meant to move a black hole."
"Where did you hear this?"
"I didn't hear it. I suspect it. The Mag Comm hinted at it through the very design parameters."
"You're talking about a quantum hole, aren't you?"
"If I'm right about th
is, I would suspect that we were dealing with a quantum hole, probably charged, and massing about five hundred billion tons.
Countermeasures won't move it fast but it can be accelerated and controlled through the electrical charge. Assuming the hole is negatively charged, Countermeasures need only intensify a negative field to repulse the hole at the same time she's putting out a full thrust."
"Wait a minute. Where's the Mag Comm going to get a black hole-quantum or otherwise?"
"Evidently it has one handy." Staffa frowned at the flickering fire. "Who knows, maybe it was even charted once and the records, like so many, were pruned away in the past. Be that as it may, I think I understand the machine's agenda. A little more sophisticated than any I would have attempted, but I don't think we'll need to worry about the tidal effects the way we would if we attempted to heterodyne the neutronic strings. "
"Holy Rotted Gods," Sinklar whispered as he realized the magnitude of the action. Expression tinted by disbelief, his attention remained riveted on the holo.
"That was one of two messages that came in at the last minute. The other was that your mother has arrived on Itreata. Apparently she came in by CV
ahead of Qyton. I was curious. Did you know anything about her arrival?"
Sinklar shook his head, a rapt expression on his face as he stared at the flying-chalice shape of Countermeasures. "I can't imagine her leaving Mac's side. Qyton would have been just about as quick. I doubt that she saved more than a week or two. "
"I suspect there's an explanation." Staffa cocked his head as he examined the ship Dee Wall was building. "Ugly damned thing, isn't it?"
"I wouldn't use it to collect garbage."
"Ugly or not, if it breaks the Forbidden Borders, I'll electroplate it in gold."
The tone in Sinklar's voice changed. "What do you know about STU Adze?"
Staffa noted the studied nonchalance in his son's eyes. "Adze? She's one of the best. Extraordinarily talented, intelligent, and insufferably ambitious.