Challenges of the Deeps

by Spoor,Ryk E

  He saw the flash of a smile at the antiquated expression “ring me up”—like his occasional fits of colorful and unique swearing, a legacy of Hyperion—before Saul’s face went serious again. “We completed our analysis of the remains of the attack, including Wu Kung’s station.”

  Damn. I almost wished it would take longer. “And …? ”

  “We were able to recover some of the world. Not, I am afraid, nearly all of it. Many of the …people inhabiting it are gone. But not all of them. Several of his friends remain.”

  “What about his family?”

  He saw the steady gaze drop for a moment. “The two youngest boys were recoverable. Sanzo …according to Sha Wujing, who we were able to partially interface with, she was reinitialized by the destruction of the main system.”

  Reinitialized? Damnation. “She doesn’t remember a thing.”

  Saul sighed. “Nothing past her upbringing in the temple. Apparently she doesn’t even remember being sent out on the Journey to the West, and her physical parameters are back to those of the girl who started the journey. And before you ask, no, there’s nothing left to check for a backup. We’ve taken the structure apart down to the atomic level and probed for quantum storage. Nothing.”

  “Dammit. I mean …that’s better news than we were prepared for, but still …Damn them. Whoever they were. Did we get any clues?”

  “None. Whatever happened was abrupt and provided no input from the outside; from Sha’s point of view it was a sudden racing wave of destruction that he was barely able to outrace, carrying the two boys with him.”

  “Blast it. Whoever this is, he’s a real Big-Time Operator, that’s for sure. No surprise there—if Mentor’s on the beam, we’re up against one of our worst adversaries.” And the worst part is that it’s really likely that our enemy’s nemesis died fifty years ago. “Thanks, Saul. I’ll break the news to Wu myself.”

  “Good luck on that, Marc. And on your Challenge, that I was just briefed on.”

  “Thanks. I’m going to need it, I think.”

  The door opened just as the comm-ball disappeared, and Ariane stuck her head in. “Marc? Could you join us, please?”

  One thing after another. “Be right there.”

  He followed Ariane to one of the smaller conference rooms, where Simon was waiting. “All right, I’m here. But before we get into whatever you’ve got on the stove…” He quickly went over his conversation with Saul Maginot.

  Ariane and Simon wore expressions that probably mirrored his own. “Oh, poor Wu. I mean …it is better than we thought, but…”

  “Yeah. And we didn’t get a single damn clue. Unless the fact we didn’t get a clue is a clue. Anyway, I’ll let Wu know in private. You didn’t call me here for this, so what’s up?”

  Ariane hesitated, clearly still thinking about the tragedy to Wu Kung’s world, but then shook it off. “Simon came to me with a very …interesting piece of information from Orphan.” She summarized the discussion she had previously had with Simon. “So that’s why Simon’s been away a few days; testing our theories.”

  He looked over to the tall, white-haired scientist. “And? What’s the results?”

  “It appears that I—and only I—can replicate the weapon you called a ‘primary beam,’” Simon said after a moment. “I was able to duplicate the changes to the weapon on board Paksenarrion, but another person present, performing the exact same modifications, created a completely inactive, nonfunctional weapon that required a fair amount of work to repair.”

  Well, well. I kinda suspected this, after what happened in that battle. Still a bit of a surprise to get it confirmed. “And the primary worked just the same?”

  “Yes. Extremely powerful and coherent beam, with both energy and range vastly increased. I left the modified unit installed—I hope that meets with your approval?” Simon turned to Ariane with an air of contrition. “I know I did not check with you—”

  “It’s fine, Simon. Don’t make excuses for something like that. Actually, I think we’d very much like you to go around our little fleet and improve everyone’s firepower. Yes? No?” She looked at Marc.

  DuQuesne thought a moment. “Yeah, I think so. Fact is that we’ll need every edge we can get when—not if—the Molothos get here.”

  Simon winced. “I really wish I didn’t have to think about that. But no point in evading it. Yes, if you authorize it, Ariane, I will spend time while you’re gone upgrading the weapons.”

  “I wonder if I might be able to do it too,” DuQuesne said slowly.

  Simon looked uncertain, then suddenly nodded, white hair shifting like a curtain. “You know, I hadn’t thought about that, but yes, you have shown some odd capabilities—and around the same time. The way you handled the weapons?”

  “Cross-connecting them in a way that even Orphan hadn’t figured out how to do? That’s sure one of the things on my mind.”

  “Well, you’ll have a chance to find out. Take a look at the one on Zounin Ginjou and see if you can replicate it.”

  Ariane frowned. “Won’t that be revealing something?”

  DuQuesne thought a moment. “Not much. He knows I talk to Simon a lot, and so for all he knows, together we figured out what makes ours work and his fail. To an extent, he’d be right, too. And since we’re heading out into the dark Deeps, making sure there’s more firepower on our transport probably isn’t a bad idea.”

  Another thought occurred to him. “You know, Ariane, Simon—Orphan clearly has some kind of theory about us. He’s made some damn cryptic comments from time to time, and the way he looks at us—”

  “You’re right, Marc,” Simon said. “I remember during the battle, he said something to the effect that he had become used to being surprised by us, and that the recent events confirmed a hypothesis he had formed.”

  Ariane nodded, thoughtfully. “He’s said a few similar things to me. Maybe this is one of the things he will discuss with us when we’re in the Deeps.”

  “Maybe,” DuQuesne conceded. “Though that joker keeps his cards close to his vest. And he doesn’t wear a vest. Still, if he’s got an idea about us that could be useful, he’ll have to tell it to us sooner or later if we’re going to exploit it.”

  “Try nudging him about it,” suggested Simon. “His reaction might at least tell us whether he intends to tell us. I would like to at least know that much.”

  “Why me?”

  Ariane’s lips quirked upward. “I should think that was obvious, Marc; he sees you as by far the most kindred spirit in the crew. He likes me, and respects me. He seems to feel the same way about Simon, and have a decent regard for the rest of our crew. But I think he finds that you and he have the most in common.”

  “Klono’s …heh, never mind. All I can say is I hope I’m not that devious.”

  “For this next Challenge?” Ariane looked at him seriously. “I hope you’re more devious. Because the Vengeance are one of the Great Factions, and they didn’t get there by accident. So we can use all the ‘devious’ we can get.”

  True enough. “I’ll admit I’ve been a little worried about that myself. They’ve got the resources and experience to basically get the absolute best for this Challenge, and Hyperion or no, gambling experience or no, that’s gonna be hard to make up for when the other guy’s probably been playing this game for years. This version of Arena Chance is actually harder for someone like me than a completely unfamiliar game would be, honestly.”

  Simon’s eyebrows rose. “In what way? It would seem that any familiarity would be an advantage.”

  “Sure would. And that’s the trap.” He saw Ariane nodding. “She gets it. Thing is, any time it’s close to something you know real, real well, it’s blasted easy to find yourself thinking that it is that same thing, and then you make some choice that makes perfect sense for the game you know well, but is the wrong choice for the one you’re playing now.”

  “Oh. Yes, I see. Rather like playing or humming a tune that is very much like one
you have known from childhood; it is too easy to find yourself suddenly humming the childhood tune rather than the newer one.”

  “You got it.” DuQuesne couldn’t keep a grim tone from his own words. “Except that then, you just sound stupid. In this, I could end up giving away a world for a song.”

  Chapter 8

  “Boy, Tunuvun,” Wu Kung said, “This is going to be fun!” He couldn’t keep from bouncing up and down on his feet, staring out at what Ariane had pronounced in disbelief to be “a triathlon on full enhancers!”

  He and Tunuvun stood at the top of a mountain—that ended abruptly at a wall behind them!—and looked out upon a racecourse that could only be possible in a place like the Arena. Or, he noted with a momentary pang of sadness, at home. The bittersweet news DuQuesne had given him resonated with that thought. Sanzo is alive, but it’s the Sanzo I first met. And my firstborn, Jing …gone. Fury started to rise, but he controlled it. Jai and Gen, at least, are still there. Sha Wujing. Cho Hakkai. Liu Yan. Not all is lost, not all are gone. And that was better news, far better, than he had feared. He looked out again, and gazed upon that wondrous course, imagined his friends with him, and finally smiled again, feeling the bounce returning to his step.

  The cool, pine-scented forest below extended down the mountainside for a kilometer or two; then a sheer cliff descended—for a distance he couldn’t see on this side, but guessed it had to be several hundred meters—to a relatively level, grassy plain another couple of kilometers; without transition, there was suddenly empty space, filled with drifting rocks and moving dots that Wu’s more-than-human eyes could resolve into flying creatures he remembered from his prior adventure in the Arena. No-gravity space, then. On the other side, a vast forest, a jungle of massive and alien-looking trees, followed by a strip of gray-gold desert sands, a glittering stretch of water, another wide gap of no-gravity, shining white of polar ice with the dull green-gray of tundra interspersed, a mass of tumbled terrain like some of the worst badlands Wu had ever seen with tangled forest sandwiched in between, and finally a massive building of some sort.

  He couldn’t be sure without being able to see into the building, but he thought that if everything else was the way it looked, he could probably traverse the whole thing in less than an hour if DuQuesne let him go all-out, but DuQuesne had taken him aside just before they came:

  “Listen, Wu. We’re going to try to run this race—and win it—without showing off. That means you can show everything you let Orphan see, and not one bit more. That’ll be more than enough to impress the hell out of them, and it’s better than anything Tunuvun should have—right?”

  “Right. I don’t think he was holding anything back that time on the docks, and I was.” He still felt a little guilty about that—not doing his best in a fight was hard.

  “Okay. That means we should be able to do this straight. But if—and I mean ‘if,’ Wu—I decide we do need to go all-out, then I will tell you. You understand? No matter how bad you think things are going, you wait for me to call it.”

  He’d nodded. There weren’t many people he’d take that kind of talk from, but DuQuesne was one. “My word on it, DuQuesne. I’ll play the game exactly your way.”

  So it looked like this course was going to take a lot longer than an hour. A lot longer. Still, it would be fun. He’d also stuffed himself last night, causing the others to stare incredulously at the amount of food he put away, which meant that the special reserves the Hyperion designers had built into him were now topped off; if DuQuesne did ask him to go all-out, he would be ready to match what he’d done the day Hyperion fell, but for a much brighter cause.

  Tunuvun looked over to him; he could smell an effort to be cheerful. “Indeed, it seems to be a very entertaining course. Forgive me if I cannot quite enjoy it as I should.”

  I’m so stupid sometimes. He can’t have fun with this with his people’s freedom and rights at stake. Wu bowed and extended a hand. “I am sorry, Tunuvun. Of course you can’t. But we will both do our best, and—Heavens willing—I will win for you.”

  “See that you do. But…” Tunuvun took his hand and shook it in human fashion. “…enjoy the course for both of us, then.”

  He laughed, showing his fangs. “I will, I promise!”

  “Racers,” the quiet yet powerful voice of the Arena said, “your attention please. The rules of this race are simple, but it is important that you adhere to them.

  “Your two courses will often be closely parallel; upon occasion, the courses will cross or temporarily become one. The course for each is indicated by the green sparks for Sun Wu Kung of Humanity,” a line of brilliant emerald points of light suddenly appeared and streaked away down the mountain, a dotted line of pinpoint suns, “and by red sparks for Tunuvun of the Genasi.” The second line blazed its way down the mountain, a trail of ruby fires.

  “These markers are not visible to any creatures who might be on the course, only to the participants and those observing this Challenge,” the Arena continued. “The racers may not directly interfere in each other’s performance: that is, there may be no physical contact between the racers, they may not throw, kick, or otherwise propel any materials, objects, or other interfering phenomena directly at their opponent.

  “Racers may, however, indirectly interfere in the performance of their opponents, by creating obstacles ahead of them or otherwise causing something to indirectly interfere in the racer’s performance.”

  So I can’t throw sticks at Tunuvun, but I could drop a tree on the path in front of him.

  “If an obstacle causes a racer to leave the path, they must return to the path as near as practically possible to the point of departure. This return shall not cause a racer to have to repeat a given obstacle; for example, if a racer falls into a river and is swept downstream, they may return to their path on the opposite side of the river so that they do not need to cross the river again.”

  A line of white dots appeared next to each racer’s path. “These white sparks will appear if a racer is significantly off their course, and will lead them back to the appropriate point to rejoin the race. The other racer cannot see these sparks.

  “From the racers’ points of view, the race—and the Challenge—is completed when either one racer crosses the finish line, housed in the building visible to the west, or one racer is unable to continue the race for any reason. Are these rules understood, racers?”

  “Yes, Arena,” he responded, hearing the words echoed by Tunuvun. “Unable to continue” covers the fact that some of the obstacles could break legs …or necks. This isn’t a safe little game. He smiled to himself. Which is what makes it really fun!

  “We proceed to the rules pertaining to the Players. Players of Chance, please verify that you can communicate with your racers.”

  Seemingly from right next to his ear, DuQuesne’s voice spoke. “You hearing me, Wu?”

  “Loud and clear, DuQuesne!” Nearby, he heard a muttered response from Tunuvun to his unseen handler.

  “The Players are allowed to communicate with their racers at will. They may give encouragement, and general guidance, but may make no specific suggestions—for example, they could suggest ‘You are ahead, try to slow the other person down,’ but not ‘See that tree ahead? The branch is rotten, drop it down behind you.’ They may, however, give specific warning of an obstacle that they are deploying, to allow their racer to avoid it while the competitor does not.”

  “Got it,” DuQuesne said; Byto Kalan, the Dujuin player for the Vengeance, said something similar.

  “You will each begin with ten Obstacle points to be used for wagering or for placing obstacles in the way of the other side’s racer. The use of Obstacle Points is only allowed on the player’s turn. Additional Obstacle points will accrue from random chance of the Draw die, for particular combinations of cards, and of course from winning a play, which gives the winner all points bet on that play. Prices for specific Obstacles will be instantly provided to the Player upon considera
tion of the Obstacle; neither the other Player nor any spectators will be able to see the contemplated Obstacle or the price.

  “If at any time a Player has no Obstacle Points, they may request a Stake; there are three Stakes available to each player, each for ten Obstacle Points. If a Player has no Obstacle points, no bets can be made on a given play; if that Player has no remaining Stake opportunities, they will forfeit the game regardless of the condition of the race at that time.”

  Wu did not like that one. Sure, DuQuesne wasn’t likely to have luck that bad, but bad luck could strike anyone, and the idea that Wu could run the best race ever and still lose the Challenge …sucked.

  “Each Player also has three Freezes—the ability to put the race on hold while they think about an option, plan a strategy, and so on. Each Freeze lasts one minute and fourteen seconds of Player time; the Racers will not notice anything.”

  It was hard to imagine being frozen in time like that, but it wasn’t his problem. He just had to race.

  “Do both Players understand the selected version of Arena Chance, or should the rules be reviewed?”

  Please don’t do that now, I will end up going to sleep.

  “I’m good,” DuQuesne said.

  “I am thoroughly familiar with this variant of Arena Chance,” Byto Kalan said.

  Wu couldn’t have said he was entirely familiar with it, even though he’d played a bit. It really was rather like one of the variants of poker that DuQuesne and Giles had taught him, with the various unusual combinations of cards being ranked mainly due to how rare they were, and two chances to add or discard cards in between betting, but there was also the Draw die, which could have a lot of random effects on play, and he had no idea how that changed proper play. But as long as DuQuesne had it firmly in mind, that was another thing that didn’t matter.

  “Racers, ready yourselves. This Challenge will begin in ten minutes.”