by Spoor,Ryk E
“Something wrong, Captain?” DuQuesne asked.
“I don’t know, Marc,” she replied as quietly as she could. They reached one of the giant elevators in the area outside of Transition, a meters-broad shining column of metal. “The Arena welcomed me back. In person, so to speak.”
DuQuesne’s brow furrowed, and he nodded. There was no need to explain anything to him. “Well, let’s get to the Embassy and check in. Then we can think about whatever this little mystery means before we call up Orphan.”
Once out of the elevator, it was simple to flag one of the floating, open-carriage-like taxis and tell it “The Embassy of Humanity”; the taxi accelerated smoothly, weaving through foot and vehicle traffic with scarcely a jolt until it finally arrived at the Embassy.
“Well, we made it without anyone trying to shoot us, interrogate us, or otherwise inconvenience us,” Simon observed. “That seems an auspicious omen.”
As they passed through the doorway into the foyer of the Embassy, Ariane saw the precise lines and features of Laila Canning emerge from one of the interior doorways and stride with perfect rhythm straight towards them.
“Welcome, back, Captain,” Laila said formally, and then, with an unexpected grin, stepped forward and gave Ariane a hug. “We’ve missed you.”
After the initial startlement, Ariane felt an answering smile on her face and hugged back. “Well, thank you very much, Laila!”
Nearby, Carl and Gabrielle had completed their own even more enthusiastic greeting. I wonder if I’ll be performing a marriage there. Already did one for Tom and Steve.
“Can I assume from your arrival without Mr. Naraj in tow that we have resolved our issues properly?” Laila asked, after also embracing Simon and—after a split-second hesitation—shaking DuQuesne’s hand.
“Well enough, yes. Though Oscar will be coming back. We could not prove his involvement in my kidnapping, and he did make a lot of progress with other negotiations that we would not want to drop. We’ll just have to keep an eye on him, that’s all. He will not be given the authority he had, I assure you.”
“But your position as Leader, that has been confirmed?”
“We worked out a deal. If you’ll open a link?”
Unlike most people, Laila took the whole data dump without batting an eye; Carl’s eyes practically crossed and he had to sit down hard. She was the sort who worked with three AISages simultaneously. I have no idea what it must be like to have a brain like that. “Oh! Quite clever. I look forward to meeting this Mr. Fenelon—he is coming, I assume?”
“Him, General Esterhauer, and several more, yes.”
“What about the …well, the murders of those Hyperions?” Carl asked, finally recovering.
DuQuesne shrugged. “We’ve discussed that earlier. Basically …too many possibilities, but the investigation’s ongoing. You can check out the second appendix for everything we’ve got; in fact, I want everyone on our crew to do that. Any of us might have some insight, and believe you me, we all want the monster behind this caught.”
Carl’s eyes went blank momentarily. “It’d help if I understood more about Hyperion.”
She saw DuQuesne hesitate, then grin. “Yeah, of course it would. I’ll give you guys the same summary I gave the Captain. But …don’t pass this stuff to anyone else, understand?”
Laila nodded, as did Carl. “We will say nothing.”
“How have things been here, Laila?”
“Busy,” said the brown-haired scientist. “There are at least two or three queries per day for you. No real emergencies yet, however. Long-term, the real problem is going to be the Molothos. Everyone knows we are at a war footing with them, and while the major factions have gained considerable respect for us, the Molothos have many thousands of years of reputation—quite deserved, as far as I can tell—for military efficiency, brutality, and an ability to win wars even if they lose an occasional battle. The only losses they have suffered in significant conflicts have been against others of the Great Factions—the Vengeance and the Faith as well as the Blessed.”
She gave a rueful grin. “If we could actually tell people what you managed to do to the Blessed, that might change perceptions a bit, but we cannot. So right now, negotiations with other Factions are still quite touchy because they are, understandably, skittish about involving themselves with us and possibly being targeted by the Molothos in turn.”
“That doesn’t include the Great Factions, I hope,” Simon said.
“Not so far,” Laila said, looking thoughtful. “While I am sure none of them want to confront the Molothos if they can avoid it, they’re not terribly scared of the Molothos either.”
“Good. Then our relations with, at least, the Analytic and the Faith should not be affected,” Ariane said. “The last thing we need is to lose the allies we already have.”
“Speaking of that, our next major order of business is with our first and most interesting ally,” DuQuesne said with a grin. “We still have a job to do.”
“And one we’ve put off for a long time,” she said. “Let’s give Orphan a call!”
“Just a moment, Captain,” Simon said. “Before you do that, I would like to—very regretfully—withdraw myself from this expedition.”
Ariane could see the regret echoed in the brilliant green eyes. “Withdraw? Simon, why? The three of us—”
“Well, you see, that by itself is part of it.”
DuQuesne grunted. “He’s got a point there. Like it or not, I think people recognize that the real top dogs of our Faction are you, me, and Simon. Taking all three of us out of circulation for some unknown time might not be the best idea.”
“Thank you, Marc. Exactly.”
Laila nodded. “I would very much not want to run things without one of the three of you here. These last few weeks have not been easy, and I expect—if that mysterious mission of Orphan’s is anything like what he implied—you will be gone much, much longer. One of you must remain.”
I wish I could disagree with that. Still …“You said that was part of it.”
“And not the largest part, no. In our excitement and—completely shared, I assure you—interest in finding out what, precisely, Orphan’s mysterious mission holds, I’m afraid we all forgot that I have a time-limited and extremely valuable opportunity.”
Ariane rapped herself on the forehead hard, just to remind herself how stupid she’d been. “Oh, God, how could I have forgotten that? The Archives!”
“Give me a smack too, Ariane. In fact, make that two smacks,” DuQuesne said. “Klono’s tungsten …dammit, no, not going back to those old oaths.” He blushed darkly, as he sometimes did when his old Hyperion upbringing surfaced. “But how the hell could I have dropped the ball that badly? Simon’s got one year left on his pass to the largest library in two universes. We could end up away for months, and if he comes with us he’s pissing away one of the greatest chances we have to advance our knowledge and understanding of the Arena and everything in it.”
“I’m afraid that’s my feeling on the matter,” Simon said. “I should be spending several hours a week, at least, digging through those Archives, seeing what I can turn up.” The Analytic had given Simon the unlimited right to visit the Archives for one and a half years—but had omitted any right of Simon to use the Archives’ equivalent of an index or search function.
Simon’s as-yet-poorly understood connection to the Arena, that sometimes provided him with knowledge or insight beyond the ordinary, had allowed him to mitigate this disadvantage to some extent, but didn’t substitute for the lack of the index. Partly, Ariane knew, this was because Simon himself was very wary of that capability—which had no known precedent anywhere in the Arena—and did not want to rely on it overly much.
But even pure random searching of a library that, literally, covered almost the entirety of the Arena—its history, its Factions, its technology—was an opportunity of almost incalculable value, and Simon was right—all too right—that it was one they coul
d not afford to waste.
“I hate to agree, but I can’t see any possible argument in the other direction,” Ariane said reluctantly. “The fact that you’ll be seen—regardless of official positions—as something of my surrogate while I’m gone is just the cherry on top.” She looked to DuQuesne. “Do we need to choose a replacement, then?”
“I don’t think so. Orphan said a minimum would be three more, right? You, Wu, and I make three, and a pretty damned competent three at that.”
She felt slightly better, though she really didn’t like the idea of not seeing Simon for months. “True, he did say three was feasible. We’d probably prefer more, but unless he changed his mind, three should be enough.”
“You mentioned ‘official positions,’” Simon said. “Who’s actually going to be in charge?”
“While we’re gone? I’m making it a dual effort. Laila and Carl will be the nominal bosses, and I think you and Oasis can do the same for them that you and DuQuesne have done for me.”
“Advisors and gadflies, yes,” he said with a flashing smile. “That makes perfect sense to me.”
Carl grinned. “Or Laila and I the figureheads, with the mad scientist pulling our strings behind the scenes?”
Laila gave one of her short, explosive laughs. “Well, that would be satisfactory too.”
“Works for me, too,” DuQuesne said, grinning. “So are we ready?”
“Ready,” Ariane said. “Let’s go see Orphan!”
Chapter 2
“Captain Ariane Austin, Doctor Marc DuQuesne, it is an honor to welcome you back to my Embassy once more,” Orphan said, giving the full pushup-bow which both the Blessed and the Liberated used as a sign of greatest respect. “And you as well, Sun Wu Kung. I take this to mean that the various …issues in your home system have been addressed in a satisfactory manner?”
DuQuesne saw a smile instantly appear on Ariane’s face, the smile that she often wore around the flamboyant, devious yet likeable Leader of the Liberated. “They have, Orphan. Though—as I’ve come to expect—they created additional ‘issues’ that will have to be addressed in time.”
“That is ever the way of things, is it not?” Orphan said, gesturing them to follow. “The course of a Leader is never simple.”
“And if it ever looks simple,” DuQuesne said, “you better believe you’re missing something big.”
“So very true. Here, seat yourselves, I have provided some of the refreshments you found most palatable on our last meeting.” The tall, green-black semi-insectoid creature took his own seat, which was more a resting perch than anything else, and raised a drinking globe. “To our continuing alliance, my friends.”
“I’ll drink to that,” DuQuesne said, raising his own glass. “How are things now? Where is Sethrik?”
“Things, as you say, are going very well since our secret victory over my former people. At the moment, Sethrik is in a meeting with the Naquari, a small but very capable Faction, who may be able to assist us in exploiting some of the resources of our new Sphere.”
DuQuesne grinned at that. Ariane’s inspired generosity in gifting one of the three Spheres they’d won to the Liberated had not only doubled the holdings of the Liberated, it had also sent an unmistakable message to the Blessed (whenever they realized it) that the Faction of the Liberated was considered one of the most important allies of Humanity …and thus any action against the Liberated might well bring the unpredictable and unknown forces of Humanity to Orphan’s aid. “We might have some more help for you there, too.”
Orphan’s head tilted inquiringly. “Indeed? Please, continue.”
“The story of your Faction is a pretty inspiring one from a human point of view,” Ariane said. “We’ve had inquiries as to whether a human could join the Liberated. I presumed that they could, and that you would have no objections to appropriate humans joining, but wasn’t going to say so until we spoke with you.”
“Object? Most certainly not, Captain Austin!” Orphan’s voice—translated perfectly by the Arena—was enthusiastically emphatic, and he reinforced this with the double-handtap that indicated assent. “Obviously anyone joining would have to be of appropriate …caliber, given our situation with respect to the Blessed, and would have to understand that our ultimate goals will eventually put us directly into conflict with the Blessed and the Minds themselves. It will not be a …safe choice of Faction.”
“We’ll make sure any volunteers are fully informed of the nature and depth of commitment. But you may want to hold off on accepting more than one or two at this time.”
“Hold off? But I—” Orphan broke off, stiffening. “Captain Austin, are you saying—”
“—we’ve found you a crew!” DuQuesne finished for him with a grin. “Yes. And so if you took in more than a couple recruits, you’d exceed that limit of four members you mentioned to us a while back—which would mean that Sethrik would be severely limited in where he could go, and also stuck having to either trust, or keep an eye on, new recruits.”
Orphan was speechless for a moment, then performed another deep push-bow. “Given your difficulties, I had of course decided not to remind you of this promise for a time; I am honored and touched that you clearly have kept it in mind even through such trying times. When will I have the opportunity to meet this crew?”
“You’ve already met them,” Wu Kung said, his own smile showing his fangs. “It’s us.”
A handtap of assent. “Of course. Only those I can trust, and those whose capabilities I know.”
“And in my case,” Ariane said, “someone with a vested interest in this mystery of yours.”
DuQuesne saw the tightening of the wingcases that indicated tension or sudden thought. “Ahh. Of course. You hope that this mission may shed light on the powers of Shadeweaver or Faith that lie locked within you.”
“Do you think it could?”
Orphan was silent for a moment. DuQuesne caught Wu’s narrow-eyed glance, but even without that he could tell that Orphan was weighing options, deciding what to say and what to hold back. “Orphan, don’t make me suspicious of you again.”
Orphan made a buzzing sound, translated as a brief chuckle. “Ahh, Doctor DuQuesne, I doubt that you are ever likely to lose all suspicion of me. But here I must tread carefully. There are things I do not speak of even here, in Nexus Arena, that I will only speak of in the Deeps between the Spheres, where even Shadeweaver or Faith would have difficulty locating me, let alone spying upon me.”
DuQuesne nodded slowly. The Shadeweavers can mess around with the Arena’s rules, so it stands to reason that someone like Orphan might not trust even the Embassy’s security without limit. But what that implies about his secret? That’s pretty scary.
After another moment, Orphan’s hands tapped quickly. “In answer to your question, Captain Austin, yes, I do believe it could shed a great deal of light on this most difficult mystery of yours. Not without some …risk, but then, risk is not so terrifying for you as for some, yes?”
“I rather enjoy it at times,” Ariane said honestly.
Orphan laughed, though the laugh was a bit strained and his color momentarily paler. “I would like to say how incomprehensible I find that, except that I have found myself, at moments, feeling the same way during some of our more …perilous moments.”
“So, will the three of us be enough?” Wu asked, “or do we have to find a couple more?”
“My initial preference would be for a few more …but in truth, three capable beings such as yourselves will suffice, and in some ways …yes, in some ways fewer is preferable. Secrets, you understand.”
“In that case, it’s still too many,” DuQuesne said equably.
“How do you mean?”
He grinned. “We’ve got an old saying back in Earth system: ‘three can keep a secret …if two of them are dead.’”
Orphan burst into buzzing laughter. “Ahhh, yes, how very appropriate, Doctor! It so truly reflects the way of the spy and manipulator, does it n
ot?”
“It wouldn’t have lasted so long if there weren’t truth in it, that’s for sure. So, can you tell us how long this jaunt will be for?”
Orphan took a drink, obviously thinking. “The precise length of time depends on many factors, as one might imagine. But …months, certainly. The journey is not short, and of course we must first travel there, and then return, and I cannot say precisely how long my …business, so to speak, will require before I may return.”
Months …we’ve had some experience now with travel in the Arena. That means …“You mentioned only talking within the Deeps about certain things. Does that mean …? ”
“Ah, Doctor DuQuesne, you are as perceptive as ever. Yes, our journey will take us through the Deeps indeed, far from mapped Sky Gates and well-trafficked routes through the Arena’s skies. You are, I believe, well-familiar with one of the reasons for my sobriquet of ‘the Survivor,’ yes?”
“Yeah,” DuQuesne said, “and that’s actually one of the things that’s got me worried. You’ve been on at least three expeditions to the Deeps, expeditions of which you were the only survivor.”
Wu Kung stood slowly. “I did not know that.”
“It is true. And it is also true that on one of those expeditions I made the …discovery which now necessitates my return. But by that token, I did learn much of the perils surrounding that particular location and the, hmm, peculiar approaches one must take to survive there.” Orphan leaned back, his tail bracing him as he regarded the group.
“I would like to know whether we will survive, then,” Wu Kung said, looking much more menacing than someone of his small stature would be expected to look. “Because if it will put Ariane in too much danger I will say we are not going.”
Orphan’s wingcases contracted, then released. “To know? All of us would very much like to know, for certain, whether we would survive a given choice, would we not? Alas, I can only give you likelihoods and intentions, not certainty.
“What I can say, my friends, is that I know what happened to the members of those ill-fated expeditions, and I know how to avoid those fates. While I give you no guarantees, I have every intention of making this journey as safe as possible. I would very much like to return here with my entire crew intact.” He gave the broad gesture which DuQuesne interpreted as a smile. “After all, this would also encourage others to possibly journey with me without suspecting that such a trip could be a death sentence.”