“I felt MorningLightMountain,” she said slowly. “I could hear its thoughts. My inserts were blocking its soldier motiles so I was physically safe, but I was still frightened. I don’t think we can share a universe with it. You know, it completely lacked emotion; I mean there was just no analogue in its mind to what we have. I was going to say that you can’t rationalize with it, but that’s the whole problem: it’s ultra-rational. There’s no way to connect. Even the SI couldn’t make it see logic and reason. It has to go, Nigel, that’s the only way we’ll be safe.”
“Turn over.”
She did as she was told. The heat had gone out of her now; remembering Randtown and the monstrous mentality of MorningLightMountain was a guaranteed passion killer. Then Nigel began working on her belly, and breasts, and thighs, and she forgot all that again amazingly quickly.
“So how did you know?” Mellanie asked.
“Huh?”
“About Cypress Island.”
“Ah.” Nigel rolled onto his belly to face her. “Michelangelo is my son, my fifteenth.”
“What? You’re kidding. He never told me.”
“It’s not something he’s proud of. Quite the opposite, actually. He stormed out when he was seventeen.”
“Wow. I bet that doesn’t happen often.”
“No,” he said dryly. “It was a classic teenage rebellion, he even said I’ll show you, when he left. Then he went and carved that career out for himself. I’m actually quite proud of him for that. Normally the black sheep come slinking back a century later with their tails between their legs, and get a nice safe middle management position in the Dynasty.”
“So he told you I was going to Illuminatus?”
“No. We didn’t understand what was going on, Mellanie. Which comes very hard for people like me and Nelson, especially at a time like this. I cut a deal with Michelangelo. He told me you were hunting the New York lawyers, so Nelson found them in the Saffron Clinic, and gave him the information. We wanted to know why they were important to you. After all, it had the appearance of just another Wall Street finance scam.”
“I’ll kill him.”
Nigel ran his hand through her wild hair. “I said you’d be cross.”
“With him! How can I trust him again after this?”
“You trusted a reporter?”
“Touché.”
“So I’m still favorite, am I?”
“You’re in my top hundred,” she replied airily.
“This is why I want you. You are so unlike any of the other girls I have.”
She traced his lips with her finger. “You need to get out more.”
“Say yes. Just try it for a couple of years. You can still have a career, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
“It wouldn’t be my own career though would it, not really, not if I was your wife. I’d get all the openings and all the breaks, but not because of being me.”
“And the difference between that and having the SI as your agent is …?”
“Perhaps there is none,” she said quietly. “Perhaps I’m just tired of being a whore.”
“Nobody said you were a whore.”
“I said it.” Mellanie sighed, and crawled over the undulating mattress to reach her negligee. She grimaced at the snail-trail of oil she left behind on the fur.
“To reach here from where you were after Morton’s court case takes amazing determination,” he told her.
“I thought it was quite easy to get into your bed, actually.”
“I didn’t mean my bed, I meant here, this little cabal, or rebellion, whatever you want to call our motley crew. Don’t you see, what we’re going to decide in a few hours is going to determine the future of the human race. Not Doi. Not the navy. Not the Senate. Not the Dynasties. Us. You made it to the showdown. You’re going to be history, Mellanie; you’re going to be your generation’s Queen Elizabeth, or Marilyn Monroe, or Sue Baker. Don’t blink now.”
Mellanie looked down sheepishly at the negligee she was holding in her hands. She didn’t feel very historical. “I don’t know who any of them are.”
“Really? Oh. Well, the point is you went and earned yourself a place at the table. That’s why you’re so irresistible; you’re gorgeous and tough, every man’s fantasy. And mine in particular.”
“You’re very sweet.”
“Haven’t been called that in a long time.”
She yawned. “I’d better get back. I don’t want Morty to wake up without me.”
“All right,” Nigel said miserably. “Just remember, it’s an open offer.”
“Thanks. It is tempting. Does it come with a place on your lifeboat if we all make the wrong decision?”
“Yeah.” He laughed. “You get a reserved cabin with a first-class view.”
“Let me guess. Your cabin is next door.”
He spread his arms wide. “Where else?”
“Is there a shower in here? I need to get this oil off.”
Nigel leered, and climbed off the bed. “I’ll show you.”
“That’s not—oh, all right.”
He guided her toward a misty glass door that was glowing turquoise. “Tell me something. What do you see in Bose?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, uncomfortable with the question, which was stupid considering what they’d spent the last hour doing. “He was useful.”
“And now?”
“I’m not sure. Do you think the memory transfer will work?”
“My e-butler says it seems to be running smoothly. We’ll know for sure after breakfast.”
The bathroom was only slightly smaller than the bedroom. Mellanie looked around in delight at the Egyptian theme, then giggled at the scandalous murals. Nigel went over to the sunken spa pool in the middle; it was filled with scented water that foamed away furiously. “Showers are so boring,” he said. “Let me sponge you off in this.”
Mellanie and Morton joined Nigel’s family for breakfast out on the morning terrace. Justine and Campbell were already there, fitting in just perfectly as they chattered away.
Mellanie took her seat, not far from Nigel, who gave her a courteous welcome. She told the waiter she’d have scrambled eggs and orange juice, then helped Nuala with little Digby’s bottle. The baby already had some of Nigel’s features.
Wilson and Anna arrived, to be given a warm greeting from Nigel. Mellanie thought the ex-Admiral appeared drawn and exhausted. The genuinely warm reception from people around the table helped perk him up slightly.
Mellanie’s plate arrived, the food cooked to perfection. She tucked in, trying to listen to all the conversations at once. The amount of political and financial power gathered around the table was fascinating. She found the way everyone was so casual about the influence they wielded to be quite enticing.
The mansion’s grounds were beautiful, even though the scale was a bit intimidating when it came to living a family life. It didn’t seem to bother the harem. Her e-butler accessed files on Nigel’s wives going back a hundred years, summarizing for her; they all seemed to be from rich families, not like her. Perhaps that was why they were so comfortable with their surroundings. She could sense Morton’s keen interest in the people around him, even though he was working hard at disguising it. This was the kind of super-power status he’d thought to build for himself, until Tara Jennifer Shaheef became a potential problem.
All in all, Mellanie decided, it was going to be a lot more difficult to say no to this than she’d originally envisaged. Perhaps just a couple of years’ marriage …
Paula Myo arrived, dressed as always in a trim business suit, easily the most formal person on the terrace. She turned down breakfast, but accepted a cup of tea from a waiter. “Qatux is ready,” she told Nigel.
Morton had stopped eating when she arrived, becoming very still. Now he put down his knife and fork, and stood to face her. “Investigator,” he said with forced politeness.
The terrace fell silent as everyone watched them.
/> “Don’t cause a scene,” a mortified Mellanie whispered through closed teeth. She didn’t think he heard.
“Morton,” Paula said.
“Pleased to see me?”
“I’m interested to see you.”
“Now, children,” Nigel said. “Play nice, please, you’re both guests.”
Mellanie had her hand around Morton’s wrist, pulling, trying to make him sit down.
“Interested, huh? Funny how life works out. You wrecked my life, now I’m essential to your future.”
“You might be involved in how we deal with the Starflyer. But you’re hardly essential.”
“What do you mean: involved?” Morton said. “Do you have any idea what risks we took to get the Bose motile to you? Do you?”
“I am very well aware of your propensity to take inappropriate risks, as well as the delusional self-justification which you indulge in subsequently.”
“Now listen—”
Mellanie was almost pulled out of her seat keeping hold of Morton as he tried to move toward Paula. “Stop it,” she barked. “You killed her, what did you expect?”
Morton gave Mellanie a shocked look. “Is that what you think?” he asked.
She wished her super-duper SI inserts had a function that could reverse time. Just a few seconds would do. “Well, did you?” she asked weakly.
Morton sat down, all his belligerence gone. “I don’t know,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t remember.”
Mellanie’s arm went around his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter, Morty. It’s all over now. It’s the past.”
Nigel gave a loud sigh, and crumpled up his napkin. “Well, as breakfast seems to be over, I suppose we’d better get started.”
Dudley Bose and the Bose motile were waiting for them in Nigel’s office. Mellanie could see Dudley obviously hadn’t slept last night. The skin under his eyes was dark, like it had been just after she met up with him. Stubble shaded his chin and cheeks, and he was still in the same clothes he wore yesterday, a rust-orange shirt and creased blue jeans. But it wasn’t the same haunted fatigue that used to be his permanent companion in those early days; Dudley actually looked contented. He was staring around the study with glazed eyes, almost as if he’d just emerged from a long sleep.
She hadn’t quite forgiven him for what he’d called her yesterday in front of everyone, even though it was heat of the moment, so she gave him a sisterly peck on the cheek. “How are you?”
“Good,” he said, and smiled as if it were a revelation. “Yes, good. Funny, isn’t it, remembering how I died is actually quite liberating. Normally it causes tremendous trouble for people who are re-lifed. I remember you telling me about Morton’s ex-wife.”
“I think she was a bit bonkers before,” Mellanie said.
Morton had been snappy at being excluded from the meeting. “Arrogant prick,” he’d muttered at Nelson, after the Dynasty security chief told him he wasn’t on the list.
“I’ll tell you everything, I promise,” Mellanie had said. In fact, she was quite relieved he wasn’t going to be there. He and Dudley in the same room would be awkward. She still didn’t have a clue what she was going to do about that—let Dudley down gently, she supposed. Of course, Morton didn’t have quite the appeal he used to; he was exciting, but then so was Nigel.
“Was it …” Mellanie didn’t quite know how to ask. “Your death, did you—”
“It was quick. I didn’t even know it was going to happen. MorningLightMountain just shot me. The only vile part is having some of its memories from when it dissected me to extract the memorycell; that’s really stomach churning.” He looked around and raised an eyebrow as Wilson and Anna came into the office. “Admiral, good to see you again.”
Wilson gave him an astounded glance before being drawn to the motile. “Dudley, glad you made it back in the end.”
“It was an interesting route,” the Bose motile said.
“Thanks for the warning,” Wilson said. “I owe you one for that. The Conway wouldn’t have made it back otherwise.”
“The Commonwealth had to be told,” Dudley said modestly. “What else could I do?”
Wilson’s gaze flicked back to the human, slightly unnerved by the double act. “Of course.”
Mellanie didn’t know what to make of Dudley, either. It bothered her; usually Dudley could barely fasten his clothes without her being there to reassure him he was doing it right. Now here he was, self-assured and calm as he talked to the one person he hated most of all. This wasn’t her Dudley, not anymore; he wasn’t even stealing lustful glances at her.
Nigel walked around the Bose motile, giving it a curious gaze before sitting behind his desk. It was quite something to have a creature in his office whose other segments regarded every other species in the galaxy as aberrations to be exterminated. His e-butler reassured him that the office’s security systems were scanning it constantly.
That didn’t seem to satisfy Nelson, who took an unusually close position beside Nigel’s desk. Campbell showed Justine to a long leather chesterfield sofa, and put out a courteous arm to help her sit down. He’d become quite protective, Nigel thought, even taking the room next to hers last night.
The study door shut behind Paula. Its e-seal came on, turning the windows slightly misty.
“Paula,” Nigel said. “Would you like to kick off?”
“Of course.” Paula stood up in front of a large portal. It came to life, showing Qatux. “Thank you for joining us,” she said.
“It is my pleasure. I recognize many of the humans with you. So many powerful figures. How emotions must be charged in that room.”
“We’re all stimulated by what is happening,” Paula said. “I should tell everyone here that Qatux joins us today because after Illuminatus—”
“Actually,” Dudley said, “I think I should be first. I have the most relevant information.”
Nigel didn’t say anything; in fact, he was rather intrigued by this new, composed Dudley, who had all the brash confidence of the old astronomer who’d lobbied so effectively for a place on the Second Chance, but without the immense irritation factor. He caught Mellanie sinking down into the cushions, her hand rubbing at her forehead, avoiding all eye contact with Dudley.
“All right, Dudley,” Nigel said with bogus civility. “Please go ahead.”
“I know what the Starflyer is,” the astronomer said.
“What?” Nigel asked.
“There is something I’d like in return for participating today.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve been through a lot, and I’m contributing more than anyone else. I believe that should receive some recognition, don’t you?”
“Dudley!” Mellanie said. “Don’t you understand what this is?”
“Perfectly, thank you, Mellanie. Are you sure you do?”
“What do you want?” Nigel asked.
“To continue as your chief advisor on MorningLightMountain should it be successful in destroying the Commonwealth.”
“Ah,” Nigel said. “I see. A berth on one of my lifeboats.” He saw Mellanie start to color, the girl’s shoulders lifted in anger.
“Hardly an extravagance for you,” Dudley said.
“No. Does this request extend to your new twin?”
Dudley shrugged. “If you wish.”
Nigel was tempted to wait long enough to hear what Mellanie was going to shout at her erstwhile lover, because she was clearly about to—unfortunately they didn’t need contention right now. “It will be done.”
“Thank you,” Dudley said. “Very well: while it was at the structure we named the Watchtower, the Second Chance transmitted a signal to the Dyson Alpha homeworld.”
“We know that,” Wilson told him. “Oscar found a record of the dish deployment in our log files. But the Starflyer got to them before we could tell anyone.”
“But do you know what it transmitted?” Dudley asked, keen to maintain his advantage.
“No.”
>
“It was a warning that the Second Chance was alien, and should be destroyed. The message was in the Primes’ communications pattern.”
“I don’t understand,” Wilson said.
“The Primes did leave Dyson Alpha before the barrier was erected,” Dudley said. “Their fusion drives were allowing them to colonize every other planet and large asteroid in their system. They could see that one day all their star system’s resources would be exhausted. Several of the immotile clusters sent ships out to their neighboring star, Dyson Beta, to establish colonies there. They are a very insular and arrogant species, the Primes; they assumed Dyson Beta would have material resources and nothing more. They were wrong. The immotile on board the first starship found another alien species. It followed its nature, and fought the new species into submission. After that, it absorbed their industrial and scientific base.
“That’s where the real problem started. The Primes on Dyson Alpha, the original Primes, have continuity built into their souls; it’s an integral part of their racial identity. They can remember their ancestors beginning to think, their own rise to consciousness. Those ancient thoughts lock them into what they are. A lone immotile three and a half years distant from its original immotile group cluster was a little more flexible in attitude. The native Dyson Beta species were developing genetics, the whole concept of which is verboten to the Primes. But the starship immotile started to use genetic science to modify itself physically, and God knows there are a lot of minor limitations and deficiencies in all creatures. The motiles were improved drastically, which led to a subsequent improvement in immotiles. For a start they regained their ability to move.”
Dudley gave his audience a mirthless smile. “The Dyson Alpha Primes were horrified. They called the Dyson Beta hybrids alienPrime, and regarded them as heretical abominations. A war started, then ended very abruptly when the barriers appeared around both stars. The next time MorningLightMountain saw the universe was when the barrier came down, and it received a signal from an immotile whose communications pattern identified it as MorningLightMountain17,735. That was a subsidiary group cluster MorningLightMountain had put on one of the early starships. That’s what the Starflyer is.”
The Commonwealth Saga 2-Book Bundle Page 190