Alnduul, looking forlorn, held out a small, featureless sphere. “Since our paths will soon part, you must keep this, Caine Riordan.”
“What is it?”
“An emergency beacon. Compress its opposite poles and an activation tab will appear. Activate and deploy it in the event that something goes amiss.”
Riordan took the sphere. It was the size of a tennis ball and matte black. “Deploy it where?”
“Free space is best, but it will function anywhere.”
Riordan raised an eyebrow. “And it sends you a message?”
“If you deploy it in a system with a communications node—a keyhole of any kind—its code and point of origin will be relayed throughout the Collective. I should receive that signal in hours. Possibly minutes. Otherwise, it will be relayed to any passing ship running an authorized transponder. It will be automatically rebroadcast by all ships whenever they enter a new system or encounter another vessel.”
“And that message can’t be blocked or purged from their systems? Or decoded?”
“Decoding is impossible. This beacon only emits its location and identification code and only I know what its activation signifies. As far as blocking or purging its signal, a precondition for all Dornaani ship transponders is that they remain available for relaying such messages. If that availability is terminated, the transponder’s signal is automatically altered to reflect that violation.”
Riordan stared at the night-black tennis ball with greater appreciation. “That’s a pretty impressive parting gift.”
Alnduul’s response failed to match Caine’s shift to a more lighthearted tone. “I wish I had a better one to offer. I hope our parting is only temporary.”
Riordan nodded, pocketed the device, and discovered he was already repenting his annoyance over Eku. Alnduul had been a steadfast friend, and if Caine had not always agreed with his propensity toward information control rather than transparency, the Dornaani had unswervingly supported his interests and those of humanity. So much so that it now threatened to end his career. “I hope you’ll be back soon.”
“So do I.” Alnduul did not sound particularly hopeful.
Riordan did not want to ask for another favor, but was realizing that if he didn’t, hundreds might pay for his reluctance. Caine folded his arms. “Alnduul, if something happens to me while you’re away…”
“I will seek Elena Corcoran. Once she is safe, I shall seek justice for you.”
Riordan waved those concerns aside. “Thank you, but there is a larger matter, one that transcends my personal concerns. I have to ensure the safety of the Lost Soldiers, the Cold Guard, and my crew. But if I am unable to do so, please give them whatever help you can. I’m sorry to ask, but I have no one else to turn to.”
Alnduul’s nictating lids closed and opened very slowly. “Only a true friend, both to me and to them, would ask such a favor. I accept. Gladly.”
Riordan sighed, smiled, put out his hand. “I know this not your custom, but…”
Alnduul extended his much thinner hand, the birdlike bones delicate where Riordan’s enfolded them. “I regret that Dornaan has no analog for this gesture of bonding.” He withdrew his hand. “I shall leave you to your rest, Caine Riordan.”
Caine watched him turn and dwindle down the corridor, wondering when, after Alnduul dropped him at the next and hopefully final destination, they would meet again.
If ever.
* * *
Eku stood as Alnduul entered his compartment. “Has Mister Riordan become sufficiently acclimated to having a factotum assistant, Alnduul?”
“No, but he shall. Riordan is highly adaptive. We must discuss a different matter.”
Eku nodded. “Corrupt loji.”
Alnduul sat on one of the cocoon couches. “Their tendrils reach much further, much deeper, than you remember. Be wary.”
“Have they become openly restive, hostile?”
“No, and that is what worries me. They are not exploiting the full scope of their growing leverage.” Alnduul felt weary. “The masters of the Ten Great Rings teach patience, particularly before commencing an ambush or a betrayal.”
Eku was frowning. “Then mere vigilance is not sufficient. I must ensure that Riordan can survive even if am separated from him. Or slain.”
Alnduul raised a sad finger of affirmation. “Which is why you must hold this in trust for Riordan.” Alnduul gently extracted a universal access key from a pocket on his utility vest.
Eku took the device: an innocuous-looking fob. “I do not presume to challenge your decision, Alnduul, but…is this wise?”
“It is necessary.” Alnduul drifted his fingertips in the direction of the access key. “Entrust it to Caine if his circumstances become…inauspicious.”
“But he will not know what to do with it.”
“Correction. Riordan most certainly will know what to do with it, once you have explained its function. But he will not know how.”
Eku looked crestfallen. “I shall instruct him. But if he is unable to act, rest assured, I will make prudent choices on his behalf.”
Alnduul streamed two fingers. “I know this. Riordan’s choices will be no less prudent, although they may be unorthodox. However, it is crucial that it is his will that determines how the fob is used. Whether he means to or not, he represents his people as he moves among us. He—they—must have agency in whatever transpires next.”
Eku stared at the fob resting in his palm. “And if, after your hearings, the Arbiters ask for the fob’s return?”
Alnduul gestured beyond the bulkhead. “Then I will tell them I have lost it.”
Along with everything else.
PART FOUR
Collective Space and Zeta Tucanae III (“Dustbelt”)
July–October 2124
CAVEAT
Caveat Emptor
([Let the] buyer beware)
Chapter Forty-Nine
JULY 2124
LELTLOSU-SHAI, BD+75 403A
Eku touched his left hand to his ear. “Olsloov has shifted.”
Riordan checked his wristlink, nodded. “Right on time.” He stepped aside to allow a slowly advancing robot to pass, its avoidance sensors apparently defunct. Given its antique patina of dust and rust, Caine was impressed that it functioned at all.
Eku pointed toward the northern horizon. “There are the ruins of which Alnduul spoke.”
Riordan followed Eku’s index finger, descried a huge arch in the mist, two small yellow moons rising over it. The arch shone like burnished bronze in the late afternoon light of BD+75 403A, the K 8 star that the Dornaani called Leltlosu. “The ruins date from the Times Before?”
“Beyond all doubt. This is often the case in systems with original keyholes.”
Their control circlets highlighted a path that took them through mostly dark complexes of domes and spheres. Another robot, a hexaped, limped across the broad promenade they were approaching. “I expected a world with functional Elder technology to be, well, different.”
Eku nodded. “You expected superior maintenance, cleanliness. That was the case until approximately a thousand years ago.”
“So interest in maintaining historic sites began fading even before virtuality became widespread?”
“Yes, but it was due to frustration, not disinterest.”
“Because the Dornaani could not repair or duplicate the Elders’ achievements?”
“Worse. They could only approximate them using cruder methods.” Eku led them into a poorly lit avenue that appeared not to have been trafficked in years. “The newer keyholes are an example. Keyholes exploit a phenomenon closely related to the one utilized by shift drives. However, creating a keyhole requires greater mastery of theoretical physics and high-energy engineering.”
“Which the Dornaani must have achieved, since they learned how to create them.”
“They have only created lesser, impermanent imitations, Mr. Riordan.”
“Please, just call me Caine
.”
“Very well, Caine. The plaza ahead is where we are to meet Hsontlosh. After you have been properly introduced, I will have to leave you.”
“I thought you were coming along as my local eyes and ears.”
Eku nodded. “That would usually be the case. But in this instance, it would be unwise. Like many Virtua node administrators, the one here on Leltlosu-shai expands her influence through the acquisition and sale of information.
“As a native of Earth, your mere arrival will unavoidably attract her attention. The nature of your request will especially pique her curiosity. However, appearing in the company of a factotum would reveal that Alnduul places extraordinary importance upon a positive outcome. She could use that as leverage.”
“How?”
“A factotum should not travel without a Custodial overseer. Consequently, the departure of Olsloov would lead her to correctly deduce that I am now operating without one. If she reported that infraction, I might be removed from your service, and Alnduul’s legal problems would likely be aggravated.”
So everything on Leltlosu-shai has to be kept at arm’s length, then. As Alnduul suspected. “Being a factotum sounds like a pretty tricky existence, Eku.”
“From my perspective, the uncertainty of life on Earth seems a much greater challenge. Here, all my needs are met, and the only threat is that I, or my family and friends, might perish. But that is now a very, very rare occurrence. Upon our retirement, we live out our lives with each other before a final immersion in Virtua.”
Riordan stared. “Factotums are allowed to use Virtua?”
Eku was surprised by the question. “Why, yes, of course. When we become too old or infirm to pursue our duties, we are courted by node administrators to enter their simulations. Permanently. We…” Eku stopped, squinting ahead into the amber dusk. “There. That is Hsontlosh.”
The loji Eku indicated was supported by an exoframe that absorbed most of the burden of Leltlosu-shai’s point-seven-three-gee environment. Moving slowly, carefully, he met them at the entrance to the plaza. “Enlightenment unto you,” he said, offering a labored version of the traditional elbows-in, hands-and-fingers-out gesture.
Riordan returned the greeting. Eku, who seemed surprised, lagged a moment behind.
Hsontlosh slumped in his exoframe. “Caine Riordan, I regret that our first meeting allows little opportunity to become acquainted, particularly given the delicate matters we must now address together. But our host is impatient and we dare not delay.”
“I understand. However, you come very highly recommended.”
Hsontlosh’s eyes half closed and his mouth retracted fully: a Dornaani bow. “I am honored by the high regard of those who recommended me.” He turned to Caine’s companion. “I presume you are Eku.”
“Correct.”
“Thank you for accompanying Mr. Riordan to this place. I am sending the location of my ship and its entry code to your control circlet. You shall be able to await us there in relative comfort.”
Eku scanned the data in a plasma monocle suddenly thrown out by his smaller circlet. “Thank you. Your ship: it is not shift capable.”
“No.” Hsontlosh’s mouth twisted slightly. “It appears I am far richer in reputation than I am in resources. If we must travel beyond this system, we will either charter a berth on a liner or await Alnduul’s return.”
“Understood. I must apprise you of the precautions that have been arranged for Mr. Riordan’s entry into Virtua.”
Hsontlosh’s eyes cycled twice, rapidly. “At the node-mistress’s urging?”
Eku shook his head. “No. From my familiarity with humans who have spent extended periods of time in Virtua.”
Riordan wondered just how extended those—and his—might ultimately be.
Hsontlosh’s lids remained wide open. “This node-mistress does not typically accept requests or advice.”
“True, but I conveyed Alnduul’s absolute resolve that special provisions be made for extended immersion. These include automated muscle stimulation, nutrition, hydration, and waste removal, as well as other supportive therapies. In addition, the node-mistress has agreed to respond to in-sim user signals.”
As if anticipating Caine’s puzzled frown, Eku turned to face him. “Because time passes ten times as fast within Virtua, you will be able to signal your need for two or more days of uninterrupted sleep. It is the recommended minimum for every seven in-simulation days.”
Riordan nodded. “Because even if my brain can keep up with events at ten times normal speed, my brain can’t sleep ten times as quickly.”
“Correct. By sleeping through two consecutive simulation days, you will have approximately five hours of uninterrupted sleep here in the real world. You must also remain mindful of the correlation between long stays in Virtua and negative effects.”
“What kind of negative effects?”
Eku frowned. “The effects usually diminish with complete rest and the passage of time, but postimmersive pathologies include disjointed thought and rapid behavioral swings. Mania has been reported. And while the length of recuperation can be reduced by postimmersion therapies, it cannot be eliminated.”
Great. Riordan nodded. “Thank you for the warnings, Eku.”
“You are welcome. I shall be present when you exit Virtua. Farewell.” Eku bowed to both of them, retraced his steps briskly. Riordan followed Hsontlosh in the opposite direction.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Caine asked, “Why was Eku surprised when you greeted him?”
Hsontlosh’s gills rippled. “He was surprised that I used the greeting customary among so-called ‘core’ Dornaani. Most lojis utterly reject the core’s cultural forms.” He paused. “Of course, most lojis utterly reject factotums.”
“Why?”
“There are many reasons, but the most galling is that the Collective takes better care of factotums than it does of loji. To fashion an analog from your planet’s past, it is analogous to the resentment that neglected and overworked slaves must have felt toward their masters’ pampered dogs.” Seeing Riordan’s reaction, Hsontlosh expanded. “These are the harsh realities of our species, Mr. Riordan. There are many inequities and ancient, unthinking grudges. The loji attitude toward the factotums is one such: nothing more than inherited bigotry that has long outlived the conditions that engendered it.”
Riordan nodded as he followed Hsontlosh along a narrow passage between tightly clustered domes. “The Collective itself no longer seems receptive to factotums.”
“That drastically understates the situation, Mister Riordan. Factotums used to have communities on several worlds, but are now constrained to one. Furthermore, it has been centuries since they have operated in truly challenging or unpredictable environments. As a result, they have become less decisive, bold, independent. They no longer excite hatred so much as scorn among lojis. The Collective’s attitude is different but no better. Most wish to quarantine the factotums’ last world and then seed it with sterilization agents. A few advocate immediate euthanization. We are here.”
Hsontlosh tapped a featureless plate set in the side of a small, dust-covered dome. An iris valve opened swiftly, its scalloped plates so fine that it appeared to be a magically expanding hole. Just like the portal in the monument on Aozhoodn.
Entering, they found themselves in a lightless room. A voice spoke through their control circlets: “Be seated.” Riordan began feeling about, was on the verge of objecting that they couldn’t see or feel any seats when the same voice ordered, “The floor will suffice. Sit. Now.”
Riordan lowered himself, back against the wall. As soon as he was still, both the wall and floor clutched at his duty suit like a combination of fine-spined burrs and glue. He turned in Hsontlosh’s direction. “What is—?”
The room abruptly accelerated down and sideways. Heavy gee-forces pushed at Caine, but the smart surfaces in contact with his clothes kept him pinned in place.
The acceleration continued to buil
d. They twice changed direction sharply, without any perceptible pause. From the dark beside Riordan, Hsontlosh muttered, “I assure you: this is not how one usually enters a Virtua node.”
“If it were, no one would use them,” Caine grunted as the room pulled what felt like a hairpin turn. Eku’s warning about the mistress of the local node came back to him: a powerbroker always trying to get more leverage. Which evidently included tactics as primitive as shaking up her visitors before dickering with them.
The room finally settled into a slowing, diagonal descent. Riordan controlled his breathing. Even if he left the room disheveled, he wasn’t going to give the node-mistress the satisfaction of seeing him dizzy.
The room settled and the far wall opened. A brace of shining drones, hovering on thrusters, were waiting in a bright room. The walls and floor released his clothing, and the same voice from his circlet. “Arise and exit. My drones will guide you.” As Riordan and Hsontlosh complied, the floating robots parted and then reformed around them in a diamond pattern.
The right-angled rooms through which they moved were far more reminiscent of a research station or military base than a home. They passed storage bins; racks of waiting or recharging robots of various sizes and shapes; data centers where holographic solids representing information streams whirled, pulsed, fused, separated.
After several hundred meters, they were led down a side corridor into a typically Dornaani room: egg-shaped, indirectly lit, white. And empty, until a female Dornaani stepped straight out of the far wall.
Riordan started at her sudden appearance, was immediately annoyed at himself. It was just another cheap holographic parlor trick. On the other hand, it was hard not to assume that what appeared to be a wall was, in fact, a wall.
The node-mistress was adorned with control devices: a double circlet, vantbrasses, even glowing rings. She waved at the floor before her. It rose up, reshaped itself into a large Dornaani chair. Another wave and, just beyond it, a wide but low cocoon emerged. She settled into the chair and her mouth twisted slightly. “Loji, you have finished your errand. Go.”
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