The Last Crucible

by J. D. Moyer

  “Of course. I meant what’s next for us? Where should we go? Where should we live? My brother Esper and Car-En are happy living here on the Stanford, but I would prefer to live on Earth.”

  “I don’t think I’m ready to return to Bosa.” Jana realized that she had inadvertently lied to Ekon; it was her who was not ready to return to Sardinia, even if Katja was willing. “I’ll want to go back eventually to see my father and my friends, but….”

  “No need to explain. It can be hard to return home. I don’t think I’m ready to return to Happdal either. People see me in a certain way there, and expect me to behave the way they are used to. But I’ve changed. And I don’t want to spend my life making other people comfortable: my mother, my brother Trond and his family, Jense and the other town elders.”

  “Would they be upset that you’re in a relationship with a woman?”

  “No, they wouldn’t care about that. Elke has enough grandchildren already. But still, they would want to know everything about you. In a village as small as Happdal, everyone knows everything about everybody.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. Bosa is the same way. And even more so within the Crucible, when I was maghiarja. I never had a moment when I was truly alone.”

  “So, where should we go? Earth is a vast planet. We could explore.”

  “The Liu Hui has a settlement near what used to be China – we could visit there.”

  “Or we could borrow a hovershuttle and camping gear – and just explore anywhere we wanted. A great adventure. The scientists on the Stanford are always eager for more researchers – I’m sure they would be happy to supply us with whatever we need. Car-En could help us get started.”

  Jana silently considered Katja’s proposal. What would it be like to be so far away from people for so long a time? To see places that no one else had seen for centuries?

  She took Katja’s hand. “I like that idea very much.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Jana relaxed in the private bath in Maro’s domus, luxuriating not only in her surroundings, but in the tanned, toned limbs of Maro’s body. It was a fine body, though having male genitalia was a new experience. Her cock appeared to have a mind of its own, not always related to her thoughts. Was that universally a part of the male experience? Or was it an artifact of her strange architecture, being part Jana, part Maro, part Crucible? Maro was still using his own brain, after all, albeit trapped in Itria’s virtual recreation of the Michelangelo. But that brain was just as connected to Maro’s actual cock as was the Crucible that contained the operating facsimile of Jana’s mind. And Jana was using at least part of Maro’s actual brain to understand and speak Latin, thanks to some creative programming from Itria. It was all quite confusing.

  Jana wondered what the other Jana was doing. Had her original self returned to Bosa? Had she reunited with Katja? She missed the Happdal woman sorely, and in a way it was even worse that Katja was not missing her at all. She longed to see her father was well, and Filumena, and Antonio, and even Cristo.

  Perhaps she would return one day. She was, after all, a powerful senator. She could commandeer a shuttle, visit Bosa, and make peace with the townsfolk. Perhaps she could even befriend her father as Maro, though she would not reveal her secret. That would unnecessarily complicate the life of the other Jana.

  She had her own life to live now, as the new Maro. It would be complicated, no doubt, but she had both Cassia and her consorteria to guide her. Cassia was becoming a friend as well; the large woman told her outrageous stories and shared her encyclopedic knowledge of Earth history. And within the Crucible she was becoming friends with the other women, who had actually lived through some of that history, and each had their own unique perspective.

  Jana received a message in her optic feed. With some difficulty, focussing on icons within her field of vision, she managed to open and read it. The Engineers had successfully managed to scan the brain of the frozen ferret Cassia had discovered in the wine cellar. They had recreated it as a cybrid. Would Maro like to have the new Faustus delivered to his domus?

  “Yes,” Jana replied, and to her relief the message transcribed automatically. “As soon as possible.” Hopefully the pet would not realize Maro had changed. It would be nice to have an affectionate friend that did not question or care about her identity.

  Jana closed her eyes and shifted her consciousness to Crucible Bosa. As she walked along a cobblestone street in the early morning, several human-faced squasc chirped at her, swishing their bushy tails, before scurrying off into an alley.

  “There you are,” she said, spotting Itria at an outdoor table with a mug of hot tea. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “I’ve been resting,” Itria said. “Recreating the Michelangelo was no small feat.”

  “Has Maro figured it out yet?”

  “I think he’s suspicious, but his hubris blinds him. To him it’s perfectly probable that he would become emperor, that the world would bend to his every whim.”

  “But he’s intelligent – surely he’ll realize what has happened?”

  “Eventually, yes. There are limits to the simulation.”

  Jana sat in the empty chair across from Itria, who met Jana’s eyes with a direct stare. Those dark eyes, with large irises and almost no visible whites, had seen the fall of civilization. Itria, as a physical host, had helped evacuate hundreds of people from Naples and surrounding areas before the eruption of Campi Flegrei. Thousands had died in the cauldron’s multiple massive eruptions, millions in the global winter that had followed, hundreds of millions with the collapse of global infrastructure and trade that had destroyed agricultural and industrial systems in the decades following. Itria had witnessed it all.

  “Is there any hope for Maro?” Jana asked. “Sperancia thinks he can be rehabilitated. But I don’t see how he’s ever going to change.”

  Itria shrugged. “Perhaps. Eventually the Crucible will copy every cell and connection in his brain. Once his neurological architecture is fully replicated, we can tweak it.”

  “Tweak it how? Make him more empathetic?”

  “We could modulate the expression of certain genes. We could increase the neuroplasticity of his virtual brain. There are many options.”

  “Would that be ethical?”

  “We’ll have to discuss it as a group. But if we were to permit Maro to host without altering his personality significantly, to grant him power within our shared simulation—”

  “That would be suicidal.”

  Itria nodded. “Do you feel bad for him? Are you regretting our decision to trap him?”

  Jana considered the question before answering. Maybe part of her did feel guilty. But when she weighed what Maro had done to Filumena and Cristo, and all the other people he might have violated or trampled, the decision still made sense.

  “I can live with the guilt,” she finally answered.

  “So can I,” Itria agreed.

  ***

  Jana dressed Maro’s body in a simple white tunic and prepared a meal from the pantry: dried fruits, cured meats (though she doubted the meat came from animals), and a loaf of fresh bread that a spiderlike robot had delivered to her door.

  Livia arrived only a few minutes late, wearing a low-cut tunic that revealed both cleavage and strong shoulder muscles. Maro’s lover moved like a cat, gliding toward Jana, head level with predatory intensity. Had Livia come to kill her? She was certainly capable of it. Cassia had warned her that Livia was dangerous.

  Jana managed to resist the urge to flinch. Livia kissed her lightly on both cheeks.

  “You look well, Maro. I see that you managed to dress yourself without Aina’s help. And prepare a meal, no less. I’m surprised you let her leave.”

  “Cybrids are citizens now. Her decisions are her own.”

  “I hear you didn’t put up much of a fight in the Senate. So
me are saying that you’ve switched sides. Your fellow optimates are furious.”

  “The Bohm upgrade is more significant than I initially understood.”

  Livia smiled and popped a small date into her mouth. Jana filled a cup with wine and reclined on a triclinium, doing her best to appear relaxed and unbothered.

  “So what’s your agenda?” Livia asked. “How will this new Maro influence the Senate, if not as emperor? Are we really joining that stupid Coalition?”

  “It only strengthens us. We’ve been isolationists for long enough. And as the discovery of the Iarudi proved, we fell behind in certain areas.” Cassia had coached her on such matters: the political landscape, Maro’s new philosophy, how to approach the repopulation of Earth.

  Livia gave her a bemused look. “You needn’t pretend with me.”

  “What?”

  Livia stood, and with a single smooth motion lifted her tunic and drew a gleaming gold blade from a scabbard strapped to her thigh. “I should have killed you when I had the chance, the same night you killed Felix. I loved him, you know.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I miss Felix too.”

  Livia straddled her and pushed the flat of the blade against her throat. Jana’s neck and chest tingled with a sensation that was close to pain.

  “I know who you are,” Livia said through clenched teeth. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice that Cassia is playing nice with you, despite the fact that Maro tried to kill her? The question is, what are you worth to me? I pretended to love Maro because it was convenient for me to be close to a senator. His power rubbed off on me in a way that I enjoyed. But what use are you?”

  It made no sense to continue bluffing. With a flick of Livia’s wrist she would be dead.

  “I’m still a senator. And you needn’t pretend to love me.”

  Slowly, Livia pulled the blade away from Jana’s neck, and with her fingertips stroked Jana’s cheek. With horror she realized that Maro’s body was responding to being straddled.

  Livia cocked her head. “You like this, then? You are just as handsome as ever.”

  She kissed Jana, gently at first, and then more passionately, using her tongue and teeth.

  “How did you know?” Jana whispered.

  Livia sat up, still straddling Jana. “Maro told me what he was planning. He explained how the Crucible works. He was so confident he would be able to dominate you all. But he failed, didn’t he? Did you kill him?”

  “No. Maro is still alive. He’s trapped in a world that he believes is real. He’ll be there for a long time, I think.”

  “I knew something had gone wrong after the Senate vote. Joining the Coalition? Cybrids as citizens? That isn’t the Maro I know.”

  “I’m sorry about Felix,” Jana said. “That was Sperancia’s decision, not mine.”

  “But you are part Sperancia, aren’t you? Isn’t that how the Crucible works?”

  “Not right now. Sperancia can hear us. But you were right, I’m Jana.”

  Livia smiled wryly. “Jana the body thief. I would never have guessed you were capable of it, that first day I met you in Bosa.”

  They stared at each other. Jana guessed there was still a possibility that Livia would murder her, but she didn’t feel scared. Maro’s life was also at stake, and Livia appeared to understand that.

  “Hmm, you’re braver than Maro, aren’t you? Interesting.”

  “Maybe we can get to know one another,” Jana suggested. “Maybe we can help each other.”

  Livia kissed her again, and though Maro’s body continued to respond, Jana pushed her away. Livia wasn’t trustworthy. Most likely she was sociopathic.

  “I am not your lover,” Jana said. “I’m willing to get to know you, but not like this.”

  Livia shrugged, looking not at all surprised. “It was worth a try. You can’t blame me for still wanting him.”

  “But I’m not him, as you’ve just pointed out.”

  Livia’s face hardened. “You’ll want me as an ally. I can make your life – whatever is left of it – extremely difficult. Or I can help you get what you want.” Livia took a cup from the serving table and filled it with wine. “What is it that you want, Jana?”

  What did she want? She’d rescued Filumena and Cristo. With the help of her consorteria, she’d outwitted Maro and effectively imprisoned him. She’d possibly prevented a war.

  And it had felt good to do those things. To fight for what she believed in, and succeed.

  “I want to bring the Michelangelo closer to the other ringstations. I want our artistic and historical treasures to be shared with everyone, as was originally promised.”

  Livia sipped her wine. “Ambitious. But not impossible. You are an influential senator, after all.”

  Life on the Michelangelo was going to be exciting. And possibly quite dangerous; she did not trust Livia, and Maro had many enemies. But she had an entire life ahead of her. She had wealth and power to wield.

  She thought of the other Jana, living out her life in Bosa or wherever she was. That was no longer her now, but just another person who shared her name and most of her memories. She wished the best for that person, and would help her in any way she could if their paths ever crossed. But their lives had completely diverged.

  She lifted her own cup and raised it to Livia. “To the Michelangelo, and what we may accomplish.”

  Livia, looking vaguely surprised, raised her cup in return. “To the Michelangelo, and its fine senator Maro Decimus. Whoever that may now be.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Tem was filthy, and his back ached. The rich soil around Ilium yielded to his shovel, but the trench he and Shane had been tasked with digging was intended to be a meter deep and ten meters long. So far all they had for their efforts was a shallow hole.

  “I thought the Hair Lab on the Stanford built a digging machine,” Shane said, wiping his brow. “Some kind of excavator?”

  “They did,” said Tem, “but it keeps breaking down. And so do the replacement parts we keep printing.”

  “Is there any iron ore around here? Maybe you need to set up a good old-fashioned smithy and forge the parts.”

  Tem looked at the titanium head of his shovel. The tool had been manufactured on the Stanford, as had so many of the objects they depended on for daily life. Ilium was legally independent, but not functionally. If the ringships were ever to cut them off entirely, their quality of life would degrade within weeks.

  “There isn’t, as far as I know. But even if there was, building my own forge wouldn’t be very efficient. It would make more sense to take a hovershuttle to Happdal and work at my uncle’s smithy, or my grandfather’s.” Or even go to Kaldbrek, he thought, and work in Saga’s smithy. It would be an excuse to visit his ex-lover, and eventually to meet the baby that might be his son or daughter.

  “I would happily go with you,” Shane said. “I once had a mission in the Harz mountains with Lydia. She recognized Car-En when your mother was a prisoner in Kaldbrek, and helped her escape. Did Car-En ever tell you that story?”

  “I was there – a prisoner in Völund’s basement. But no, I didn’t know that Lydia helped my mother. Neither of them ever told me that.” What he did remember from that night was Esper slitting Völund’s throat, and the look on Saga’s face as she watched her uncle bleed out. That image would forever haunt him. And how would he tell his father, if Saga did turn out to be carrying his child? Once Saga had attacked Esper in a vengeful rage, stopped only by Car-En intervening. Not exactly a good start to a harmonious family relationship.

  “Back to work,” Shane said. “This trench isn’t going to dig itself.”

  Shane was recovering quickly from his time in stasis. He’d regained most of the weight he’d lost and had a tan from working outside. He still took frequent breaks and couldn’t walk very far without sitt
ing down, but Maggie said he was making great strides in his rehabilitation.

  The trench grew, slowly but surely, but Tem was relieved when he heard a commotion from the common area.

  Shane tossed his shovel aside, grinning. “Sounds like they’re back. Let’s go say hello.”

  “Should we wash up first?”

  “Probably a good idea. You look like some kind of mud monster.”

  “So do you.”

  By the time both men had showered and dressed, Lydia and Maggie were already telling stories of their time in Ilium. Someone had made a huge pitcher of fresh lemonade, and snacks were set out on the outdoor communal tables.

  “Pietro is doing great,” Lydia said. “He still trips a lot, but only because he runs everywhere. He refuses to slow down.” She was sitting on a bench next to Shane at one of the long tables, facing a small group that had gathered to hear stories and news. Shane held her hand, grinning with shameless delight. The two had reunited with intense joy that had almost immediately sparked into a relationship, Shane flirting even before he could properly walk. Neither seemed to care about the age difference. Lydia, though she appeared older, was more physically fit and mobile than Shane, at least at this stage of his recovery.

  “Cristo and Filumena are both recovering as well,” said Maggie. “They’ve struck up a close friendship. We’re treating them both for PTSD.”

  “What about Aina?” Tem asked. Katja and Jana had told him about the cybrid before leaving on their exploration adventure. “Is she still there?”

  “She is,” Maggie said. “The Bosa townsfolk have accepted her as one of their own. In some ways she has become their new maghiarja – I’ve heard some of them refer to her that way. Aina has enormous physical strength and access to all the knowledge and information resources of the Michelangelo. She even assisted us with some of the medical procedures we performed. Honestly I don’t know if they’re going to need our help in the long term.”

  The lemonade and snacks were all consumed, replaced with platters of grilled vegetables and bottles of Ilium wine – an outdoor dinner for whoever wanted to join. Food was plentiful in Ilium; it was easy to grow a wide variety of crops in the volcanically enriched soil. And the wine from Xenus’s vineyard was getting better every year.