by Ryk E. Spoor
The triumphant expression on the perfect blonde-framed features abruptly transfigured to astonishment and dawning joy. “Wu? WU KUNG!”
The Monkey King ran forward and Maria-Susanna ran to meet him; Wu caught her and spun her around and around, and she laughed incredulously. “It’s really you, Wu!” She looked at Ariane, and her smile was like a benediction. “He did it, didn’t he? Marc, I mean. I thought it was impossible, but he actually did it!”
Ariane felt a momentary tug at her heart, felt a completely involuntary smile crossing her face. I’ve been warned, I know who and what she is, and it’s still affecting me like this. I suppose I’m not too surprised by Wu’s reaction—the last time he saw her, she was still his ally. But that sunshiny perfection shouldn’t affect me that way. She noticed the others also smiling in reflexive sympathy…except, to her surprise, Simon, who was studying them for a moment with an analytic intensity that startled her.
“Well,” Ariane said, finding to her surprise that she couldn’t keep a touch of warmth from her voice, “from what Marc and Wu said, it was really the Arena that did it—offered him a universe of wonders to explore.”
“And Sha Wujing kicked me in the head until I started thinking!” Wu added. As abruptly as he had leapt forward with joy, he pulled away and looked at Maria-Susanna gravely. “They told me you were doing bad things.”
Ariane expected the golden Hyperion to deny the charge; to her surprise, Maria-Susanna stared at Wu and suddenly dropped her gaze. “I suppose…you would see it that way. I wish I could explain it simply, Wu. But it’s very complicated.” She looked up. “If you come with me, though, I can—”
“No.” Wu looked regretful, but the word was iron. “I’ve got a mission. I’m the captain’s bodyguard.”
Now Ariane saw, for the first time, the adversary. For just a split second, the brilliant blue eyes narrowed and hardened, the mouth became tighter; a glance of cold annoyance, appraisal, and suspicion that flickered between Maria-Susanna and herself, an expression that indicated more than anything the mercurial and dangerous temperament of the renegade Hyperion.
But it was a glance cast over Wu’s shoulder, just a momentary dropping of a mask, and the mask was replaced instantly. “How very fortunate for Captain Austin. I trust you realize how lucky you are to have Wu as a bodyguard?”
“Oh, very much so.” More than you could imagine. “Marc insisted. At first I thought it was a foolish idea, but I’ve learned since then just how smart he was.”
“Marc decided that?” Maria-Susanna raised an eyebrow. “I see.” She looked to the side, and that smile lit her face again. “Doctor Sandrisson! Your theories led to some most interesting results, didn’t they?”
Simon stepped forward; he smiled, but Ariane was impressed by the fact that it was a professional smile. Why aren’t you being affected by her presence? The rest of us are. “It certainly did, Doctor Shoshana…or I suppose I should use your real name, Maria-Susanna. I am glad you admired my work so much that you had to steal it.”
Oh, ouch. Ariane could see the perfect eyebrows arch and the eyes look hurt, but that didn’t cause Simon to shift his expression one bit; instead, he shifted his gaze to Selpa’a’At. “Not meaning any offense, but…Swordmaster First, I trust you are aware of…who and what you have just admitted to your faction?”
Selpa’a’At bobbed low on his legs, then rose. “A calculated risk, yes. A renegade of your own people, with some specific connection to Marc DuQuesne, and—apparently—your bodyguard Wu Kung. But a renegade whose goals and motivations appear to align with our own, and who has given us…good and valuable consideration as a sign of her good faith.”
He already knows she’s a wanted criminal, so we can’t easily drive a wedge between her and the Vengeance that way. She’s still staying circumspect about her and DuQuesne’s origin, too, depending on us not to want to reveal anything about Hyperion either. And she’s right, too; both of us want to keep those trump cards hidden. Ariane sighed, then forced herself to smile. “Well, I can’t pretend this is the way I’d have wanted things to go—our secrets are, of course, part of our strength, as I would presume they are for any Faction—but I certainly bear you no ill-will for taking advantage of an obviously very inviting opportunity.”
“I thank you, Captain Austin. And you speak truth. Still, we owe you something, as I believe I acknowledged prior to your last departure, and we have no intention of using this information against you.”
Wu returned to her side, looking thoughtful and a bit sad. She resisted an impulse to pat his arm or shoulder, which she suspected wouldn’t allow him to look like a proper bodyguard.
Selpa’a’At’s spherical body rose and dropped in his people’s formal salute. “Then having notified you, I shall bid you farewell; I doubt not that you have many other duties to perform.”
“I thank you for your consideration in coming to give us this news personally, Selpa. May your course be ever your own.”
“And yours as well.” The spidery alien turned in place and proceeded out; Maria-Susanna replaced her hood with a last, enigmatic glance backwards, and followed him out.
As the door closed, Laila shook her head. “That is not at all good.”
“No,” Ariane said, “But there’s not much we can do about it, and at least we know where she is. Being a part of a Faction will also limit her, I hope. But damn I wish DuQuesne were here. I’m going to have to talk to him as soon as we can about this.”
Simon looked grave, as did Carl and Gabrielle. “Ariane,” Simon began, “Something about that entire sequence of events bothered me. I—”
For the second time in half an hour, a green comm-ball interrupted someone who was talking to her. “Tanglil of the Blessed To Serve requests admission and audience with Ariane Austin of Humanity.”
Everyone fell instantly silent, and the distant tension was suddenly a ball of red-hot wire in her stomach. Here it comes. “You may enter, Tanglil.”
Tanglil was a more delicately built member of his species, at least eight centimeters shorter than Sethrik and much lighter, and walked with short, quick steps that were reminiscent of a bird’s—or reconstructions of raptorial dinosaurs. He stopped a few meters from Ariane and dropped to a full pushup bow. “The Minds of the Blessed send you greetings, and a response to your message recently presented to them.” He rose and from a pouch at his side produced a crystal. “The recording is contained herein; the interfaces within your Embassy can read it.”
Wu Kung stepped forward and took the crystal, studied it momentarily before handing it to Ariane.
Tanglil bob-bowed. “It is done, then. These words are for you alone, Captain Ariane Austin; even I, Leader of the Blessed To Serve, know not what the Minds have chosen to say unto you, only that I was to present it with great respect. Now I must leave, for I may not hear that which has been delivered.”
Ariane returned the bow, and waited for the door to lock.
She looked around. “Well, come on,” she said, heading to one of the conference rooms. “As far as I’m concerned, this is for all of us. It’s not like I’d hide the results from you anyway.”
She found herself swallowing and taking a couple of deep breaths. The port for the crystal was fairly obvious, and as soon as she’d inserted it the crystal glowed a pale blue. She sat down in her chair, looked to see that the others were ready, and then said, “Play message.”
The room went dark, and suddenly they were within a vast chamber, sculpted crystal and night-black composites and silver and green and gold alloys rising around them like the arches and columns of a cathedral. Before them, the great supports formed six immense archways; and within each archway was a face.
The faces were of Blessed…or, Ariane realized slowly, something very like them. The crests were subtly different, the faces just slightly broader, details of the structure shifted just a bit here and there. I wonder…I think that might be what the Blessed looked like before they were…redesigned.
>
“We are the Minds.”
The voice shook the table, vibrated in Ariane’s chest, echoed in her head, a voice that was actually many voices, speaking in perfect and mighty unison, even though it seemed to be spoken hardly louder than a whisper. For a moment she felt a stab of fear. Are they actually here? Is this a trap?
“Stop message,” she said quickly.
As sudden as a light going out, they were back in the conference room. Even Wu Kung looked a little pale under his fur. “Sorry about that,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Just wanted to make sure there was nothing funny about the recording.”
“Well, it couldn’t be actual AIs,” Simon said, with an and I knew that, so why was I so worried tone that echoed her own relief, “and they couldn’t embed nanotechnology in them either, so there really isn’t anything to worry about. It’s just…more immersive than I had expected.”
“You got that right,” Gabrielle said with a wry smile. “Theatrics and a half, I’d say.”
Ariane smiled and relaxed, just a hair. “All right. Everyone ready now?”
After everyone had nodded, she said, “Resume message.”
Even with advance warning, even knowing this was nothing but a VR projection, the voice and chamber still sent a thrill of awe through her.
“We are the Minds. We are the Guides and the Watchers. From the Beginning to the End, we have been and are and shall be. We are the Six,” and for a moment the great unified voice became singular, as each of the great faces spoke in turn: “Thilomon, Dellak, Locasus, Tynenousan, Nysket, and Pelarinshar.” Thunderous unity returned as the Minds continued, “We speak for the Blessed. We speak now to you, Captain Ariane Stephanie Austin of Humanity.
“Your message has been received and analyzed. All of the Six have considered its every aspect, and we have examined the data on Humanity that has been delivered to us, and specifically the data on you, the Leader of the Faction, as well as those who had arranged your removal.
“The Minds do not often accede to threats. Yet your message was not entirely threat, but offered instead a possibility of increasing a reputation that might be lost. We have verified that you have taken the step that was promised.
“The Minds recognize, now, that we failed in every particular. You admit to having been captured, and no set of calculations of probability admit of any significant manner in which you could have escaped, save one: that you have completely mastered the powers of Shadeweaver or Faith, and used them to destroy the task force and return to Nexus Arena. At the same time, this, too, seems utterly improbable, as your powers were sealed away, you have joined neither Shadeweaver nor Faith, and too little time has passed.”
Thilomon glowed brighter, and its voice slightly dominated the others. “Either alternative shows how gravely we have erred. Unknown factors have led to a defeat which the Minds and the Blessed have not seen in ten thousand years and more.
“A penalty must be paid for failure so severe, for errors in judgment that cost so many ships, the lives of so many of the Blessed who depend on us and trust our knowledge and wisdom.”
The six voices united fully again. “The Minds of the Blessed to Serve therefore agree to the terms set forth by you, Ariane Austin. Three Spheres we do give to Humanity, to be given unto your faction in precisely the manner they would be had you challenged the Blessed and won.
“May our Factions know peace, and not war. The Minds have spoken.”
Instantly the Hall of the Minds disappeared and they were once more in the conference room. Ariane felt a rising sense of triumph, a great grin beginning, spreading across her face, the others smiling, opening their mouths to cheer—
A great bell-like chime rang through the Embassy, and a voice even more powerful and awe-inspiring than the Minds’ spoke in quiet yet deafening tones: “Type Two Challenge concluded. Winner: Ariane Austin and the Faction of Humanity against the Minds and Faction of the Blessed To Serve.”
Chapter 49.
Simon saw DuQuesne stop short at the threshold of the Embassy foyer. “What the living…?” Oasis, too, looked momentarily dumbfounded. Simon repressed a smile. I can’t blame them.
The huge, normally solemn and impressive room was decorated incongrously with brilliant paper streamers, celebratory lights, banners, and balloons; Carl and Gabrielle were hooking the last long streamer up while Steve worked on a punchbowl fountain. Ariane was talking with Laila, but looked up immediately. “Marc! What wonderful timing.”
In those few moments, DuQuesne—and Oasis, it looks like—had discerned the only rational explanation. “Ha! You did it, Captain! You faced down the Minds and made them pay!”
She looked slightly embarrassed, then straightened and nodded. “Yes…yes, I guess I did do just that, Marc. Though the fact you all backed me made it all work.”
“Well, then…congratulations to all of us, I guess. They caved completely?”
“Didn’t even quibble,” Laila said matter-of-factly. “It was obvious they realized they had so badly messed up that their only chance was to admit everything and throw themselves on our mercy.”
“Not that I’m complaining in the least,” Gabrielle said, jumping down from the ladder, “But just what were you threatening them with?”
“The Shadeweavers and the Faith,” Steve said with quiet certainty. Structures and patterns are his profession, Simon remembered. He’d note the connections right away.
“Exactly right,” DuQuesne confirmed. “She figured that the worst possible outcome for the Minds would be to let both groups know that the super-AIs had tried to grab their special powers for themselves.”
He glanced over to Simon. “Did you get an answer on that question, by the way?”
Simon nodded. “An extremely definitive yes. The Faith’s powers operate perfectly well in normal space—at least, well enough to pull off seemingly magical tricks—and we must therefore assume the Shadeweavers can do that as well.”
“Damnation. I was really hoping that wasn’t the case. It’d be nice to think that normal space is a defense against all the Arena’s insanity.”
“But we already knew it wasn’t,” Carl said, grabbing a cup and going for the punch even as the fountain started.
“What? How?” Ariane asked.
“Don’t you remember? That whole bit about how nanotech colonization and AI exploration doesn’t work in normal space? The Arena, or whoever or whatever set it up, made sure we couldn’t use our machines to spread like weeds across the galaxy, either.”
That’s right, Simon thought to himself. “Yes, that conversation we had with Selpa when he first came to visit. And I remember having a conversation with you, Marc, along similar lines.”
“You mean how none of our interstellar slower-than-light probes had managed anything? Yeah. That little set of facts sure clarified that mystery.” DuQuesne’s face looked grim, and Simon noted that Oasis’ usual cheerful expression hadn’t returned after the initial surprised joy at Ariane’s triumph.
That hadn’t escaped Ariane’s notice, either. “Marc, do we need to talk before our guests show up?”
“Guests?” DuQuesne looked momentarily confused, then shook his head as if to clear it. “Yeah. Not everyone—I mean, I guess we could tell everyone here, come to think of it. We’re not keeping my secrets close to the vest in this group.
“First—you did look over the file I gave you, back when we returned to the Arena?”
“Your Hyperion file? Yes. I’ve read it, Marc, and no one else has seen it.”
“That’s okay; to understand what happened you don’t have to have read it…you’ll just understand what it means to me—and Wu and Oasis—better that way.”
DuQuesne hesitated, and the others slowly stopped everything else and gathered closer. Something…terrible has happened.
DuQuesne looked over to Oasis, who nodded. “All right,” he said, finally. “For those of you who didn’t know, Doctor Davison was the guy I had in charge of watching over th
e Hyperions who’d chosen to…go back, I guess. Stay in the illusions of their universe. There were five of them; Wu was one.”
Wu Kung was standing now very still and stiff, his posture anticipating dread and loss.
“Oasis and I, we followed the traces the way I’d arranged. Took us a while because the whole point of the activity was to lose potential pursuit of just about any type. Just doing the following made us so hard to chase down that Mentor didn’t catch up with us for over a week.”
“So you did contact Mentor,” Ariane said with some relief.
“Yeah, no problem there.” DuQuesne paused. “Blast it. Anyway, we got close to the new location and…well, whoever it was had gotten there first. Davison’s in long-term reconstruction now, no telling if he’s going to remember anything that happened. And the other four…” DuQuesne’s voice actually rose, almost cracked, on the last word, and he stopped, unable to continue.
“No. No, please, no, DuQuesne, no!” Wu was pleading, as though whatever terrible news DuQuesne had could be taken back by enough entreaties.
“They were…killed and…burned,” Oasis managed finally.
Oh, great Kami…
“A pile…” She swallowed, with the pallor of nausea spreading across her face, but visibly forced herself to continue. “A…pile of bones and ash was heaped in the exact center of the room. And all the VR units had been destroyed.”
“NO!” Wu Kung lunged forward, grabbing DuQuesne. “No, not Sanzo! Not Jing and Jai! Not—”
“I don’t know yet, Wu!” DuQuesne said. “I don’t. We might be able to recover the world. Saul’s got his best people working on the site. First thing is to figure out what happened, try to get a handle on who or what did it. If the…Hyperion worlds are recoverable, they’re not going to be less recoverable if they take their time.” Simon watched Wu slowly release DuQuesne, looking as though he was deflating; DuQuesne put a hand on his shoulder gently. “We’ll do the best we can, Wu. You know that.”
“Yes. I know.”
For a moment everything was silent. Simon glanced around, as he often did in such awkward moments, and winced. What a horrid incongruity between our joyous setting and this hideous news.