by Ryk E. Spoor
Chapter 53.
Oh, my.
As soon as Ariane told them to watch, as soon as she made a point of saying that there were no projectors active, Simon knew what she was going to do. There was no other possible alternative, no other climax to her argument—
And then that light shone out, enveloped Ariane Austin in radiance that blinded…and then she was there, floating without support, impossibly levitating against the rotational gravity of Kanzaki-Three, dressed in the alien, formal uniform that had materialized around her in her ultimate triumph against an invincible foe.
I’ll be damned. That’s why I didn’t ever see that outfit again, DuQuesne’s local relay voice said with chagrin. Disappeared when she banished the power. And that’s what she was doing in her cabin last night, and probably the last few nights back in the Arena—trying to duplicate that momentary flare she had against Vantak and channel it.
“And she bloody well did it,” Simon murmured, still stunned.
“Sugeeiiiiii!” Wu said, eyes shining. “That’s amazing!”
Oasis, who like Wu had never really seen the magic of the Arena, was startled, maybe slightly awed.
Simon became aware suddenly that distant klaxons were sounding. Alarms?
“Of course,” Simon said after a moment, and looked around at the assembled CSF and SSC. “You understand now, don’t you?”
The rest of the room was silent, but the stunned, incredulous gazes showed they did indeed understand.
“Those alarms…which I now note have gone silent—were from the detection of an energy surge, one which you all now will have verified proceeded from no detectable instrumentality. Captain Austin has on her no equipment capable of such displays, the projectors can be verified to be inactive, and in short there is no known method—within the limits of our science, or indeed any of the sciences of the Arena I have yet studied—which could produce that effect under these conditions.” He looked at Ariane. “In short, it is no trick.”
“It is no trick,” Ariane agreed. “That is a taste—a tiny, insignificant, almost irrelevant taste—of the power of Shadeweaver and Faith. And it reaches here, even here, to our world on, as they might say, the other side of the sky. How far and deep is the reach of the Arena itself, then?” Though the light had almost entirely faded there was still something about her voice, a voice that resonated for a moment in Simon’s bones in a way he’d never experienced before…
No. Not quite true. Amas-Garao had that same quality in his voice, when he chose to use it. So did Nyanthus, I recall, during that ritual they used to seal Ariane’s powers.
“An…impressive trick, or manifestation, if you prefer,” General Esterhauer said after a moment. “And I understand the point.” She flicked a glance, almost too fast to follow, but Simon caught it, read the direction. Looking at White Camilla. Same clique, then. Not surprising. “What, then, do you want us to do—exactly?”
Ariane looked to Saul. “Mr. Chairman?”
“Oh, go on, Captain. You rather took over the meeting—and I completely agree with your tactics, this time. Do it your way.” Saul leaned back, smiling.
“Thank you, Saul,” she said.
Simon felt a tension in the air. No, not the air. Though doubtless there, too, but…it’s inside me.
Could it be? That…ability, here? But I had thought it had to do with the Arena, with knowledge of that alien space.
He concentrated. DuQuesne, something’s…wrong.
The black eyes narrowed. You think so too, huh? Too smooth so far, by about a thousand rows of little green apple trees. A sense of sudden surprise. You getting that…sensation you got on Zounin-Ginjou?
Something like it, yes.
Dammit. Okay, I’ll make sure the others are ready. Keep an eye on her.
Ariane was continuing. “First, the whole Council—SSC and CSF—have to confirm that the designated Leader of Humanity is, in fact, their leader. Exactly what that leadership entails we have to hammer out in detail, yes—but don’t even think about trying to make it an ineffectual figurehead. I’ll put up with reasonable opportunities for debate, but whoever’s in that position—me or, later, someone else—is going to need the authority to actually do things.
“Next, you’ll accept my designated line of succession in case something happens to me. That line being the original Holy Grail crew, in the following order: Marc C. DuQuesne, Dr. Simon Sandrisson…”
Oh, great Kami I hope it never comes to that…
“…Dr. Gabrielle Wolfe, Dr. Carl Edlund, Dr. Laila Canning, Dr. Stephen Franceschetti, and Dr. Thomas Cussler.” She grinned. “Though I think we’ll come up with a saner way of deciding the selection of Leader of the Faction before we go nearly through that list. But for now, that’s the succession, because I’ll be damned if I’m trusting anyone who didn’t go through that first fire with me. I’ll trust any of them with my life—and with your lives. Most of the rest of you have a lot of work to prove that you really, truly get what we’re up against. And until you do prove that…”
“I…see.” The general surveyed the group, and Simon’s sense of foreboding grew stronger. But I have no sense of direction. That bothers me. A great deal. “But given normal lifespans in this era…that means that you, or your immediate successors, would be effectively rulers of Humanity for centuries—longer than many empires of the past.”
Ariane raised an eyebrow, then laughed. “I see what you mean. Then let us say this agreement holds for ten years, and during that time we work out a more democratic method for selecting the Leader of Humanity. As far as I can tell, the Arena doesn’t care HOW you do it as long as you play by the rules.”
Esterhauer nodded, but her eyes were still grim. “It’s now quite plain what you meant, Captain Austin,” General Esterhauer said slowly, “when you said that the person you would have replace you would be someone we would like even less. If we don’t accept you as Leader of Humanity, our next choice is Marc C. DuQuesne…of Hyperion.”
“Sun of a…” muttered Marc.
“His past is not—”
“Not relevant, you were going to say?” General Esterhauer’s face was stony, and her voice as cold as iron. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But the fact that his origin has been hidden from us for all this time does not leave me inclined to trust you—any of you. We have more than enough evidence of what the Hyperions are capable of. We know many were unstable, dangerous, and unpredictable. We should have known what we were dealing with, as well as who.”
Ariane’s eyes had narrowed to near-slits, and her next words were spoken through her teeth. “If it weren’t for Marc DuQuesne, General, we would not be citizens of the Arena. Our Upper Sphere would be a Molothos colony and we’d still be marooned back in Nexus Arena, looking for some way home.” A faint hint of golden light shimmered around her hand for an instant. “And no one talks about my friends as though they are things.”
Simon, this is extraordinarily bad, Mio said. Her voice was filled with tension, even fear.
What? What is it? I know this argument is not going well—
It’s much more than that. Mentor and I have detected coordinated movements—
—and other stuff,” Gabrielle’s Vincent broke in. Esterhauer’s had some kind of encrypted, stealthed feed going on for the past ten minutes. Took this long to trace it to her!
MARK DUQUESNE, SIMON SANDRISSON—MY VISUALIZATION IS NOW CLEAR ON THIS: THERE IS ANOTHER FORCE AT WORK HERE, MOST LIKELY COMMUNICATING TO GENERAL ESTERHAUER THROUGH INTERMEDIARIES.
What? DuQuesne’s link-voice was sharp. Thought we’d sealed off comm.
Barring physical cutoffs and shielding, any such sealing is of necessity one that can be penetrated or evaded by a sufficiently capable adversary, Mentor pointed out. Also, at this time it is not certain—though probable, at an 86.2% level—that the operator in question is outside; they may be one of those present.
“My apologies for offending you,” the general said to Ariane after a moment.<
br />
Notify Ariane, then, Simon sent to Mentor.
I FIND IT DIFFICULT WHEN SHE IS EMOTIONAL, AND THE MANIFESTATIONS OF THAT POWER INTERFERE DIRECTLY WITH A REMOTE LINK.
“This is, as I hope you understand, a…difficult thing for any of us to grasp,” General Esterhauer continued. “It would be better if we could vote on whether we are going to…follow your lead, as you said. Once that’s settled the rest of the…issues would be able to be addressed in a more reasonable atmosphere.”
Ariane slowly relaxed and straightened. “All right. I suppose we should let you do that in private, as I’m technically not a member.”
As she walked back, Simon saw Ariane stiffen; Mentor had obviously managed to get through.
The three doors around the room slid open simultaneously, and multiple armored, armed soldiers poured in—most of them aiming directly at the Holy Grail crew and their friends.
Chapter 54.
Many of the Councilors shrank back or leapt to their feet in consternation. Whatever they were expecting, it sure by all the hells of space wasn’t this, DuQuesne thought sourly. Wu Kung immediately interposed himself between as many of the newcomers and Ariane as he could. And if people don’t keep their heads, Wu’s going to start breaking them.
But not everyone was panicked or confused. Saul merely turned his head slowly to gaze at Jill Esterhauer. “General? What are you doing?”
“I said it would be better if we could vote on this,” the general said, her voice now even more iron-hard. “But judging on the interest vectors and reactions, I am afraid that Ariane Austin would win that vote, and I cannot allow it. We cannot allow it.”
“General!” Saul was now on his feet. “Have you entirely lost your mind? I knew you were reluctant—”
“And I have learned enough now to be more than just reluctant,” she said. “You made a similar decision fifty years ago, Commander Maginot; one that, if you failed, would ruin you forever—if it didn’t kill you. The same is true here; I believe that we are faced with one of the most subtle and dangerous attacks we have ever seen, and it very nearly succeeded. It still may succeed, if I do not contain this problem here and now.”
She looked down at Ariane, Simon, and the others. “Please do not resist. If this becomes a fight, innocent people will be hurt. That is not my intent.”
“You will explain—or there will be a fight, and I do not think you will like the ending!” Wu Kung said. His teeth were bared, his tail lashing. DuQuesne gestured furiously at Wu to stand down, but he didn’t have much hope of having an effect. If this does go south, there’s nothing that’s going to hold Wu back…and these people have no idea what he’s capable of.
“You are one of the clues, Sun Wu Kung.” She looked to DuQuesne. “Marc C. DuQuesne, hidden in plain sight. Survivor of Hyperion. You and Captain Austin traveled to another location prior to your return to the Arena—and came back with Wu Kung. Another Hyperion. Upon your return to the solar system, you then went to yet another location—one of the Counter Earth stations—and report some sort of murder of mysterious patients under the care of a doctor who has yet to recover. Instead of the local authorities, Saul Maginot sends a very specialized team to oversee the investigation.”
Sweet spirits of niter, as Rich used to say. It does sound damn peculiar the way she’s putting it.
“And you return, Captain Austin, having imprisoned both Ambassador Naraj and Deputy Ambassador Ni Deng…but their own intended bodyguard appears to have become a member of your inner circle. Oasis Abrams…or is that actually her name?”
Great Space, I think I see where her paranoia’s going, DuQuesne sent to the others. And with the right guidance it’s gonna be convincing as hell.
Simon’s face was grim—and yet distracted. That sense of his is operating some even here. But it’s not giving him a clear sense of what the threat is, I can tell by the way he’s looking around.
“Then, of course, we have the Hyperion criminal Maria-Susanna—who had contact with you, Doctor Sandrisson, for some considerable time prior to your initial departure, and who—despite her reputation as a psychopathic murderer—did not harm you, nor any of your group, either here or in the Arena.
“General,” Robert Fenelon said, with a somewhat testy note in his voice, “I suppose I can—if I squint rather hard—see a possible pattern in all that, but really, that’s hardly enough to—”
“I am not without evidence—considerably more solid evidence,” General Esterhauer said, not taking her eyes from Ariane. “I won’t divulge all at this time, but to give one example: I am in possession of essentially incontrovertible evidence that the woman calling herself ‘Oasis Abrams’ is neither the Oasis Abrams who enlisted in the nascent Combined Space Forces fifty years ago, nor any direct relative of hers.” She looked straight at Oasis, who gazed back stonily. “In fact, whoever she is, she appeared immediately after Hyperion, and the original Oasis Abrams…was never seen again.”
DuQuesne winced. Oh, that’s going to be a hard one to explain away.
She looked at Saul. “Hyperion, where it all changed. Hyperion, the event so terrible that it changed the way the Solar System worked, created the Combined Space Forces and the Space Security Council in their current form, and changed stellar law to give actual power to a system-wide government for the first time. Which gave you, Commander Maginot, control over what government Humanity had for fifty years.
“Hyperion, where secret operations became more secret, where new beings of unknown capabilities were created for purposes so hidden in propaganda and confusion that no one seems to even know exactly what happened—or how many survived. Hyperion, whose ‘experiments’ were supposed to be superior beings, engineered with techniques untested and forbidden for use on normal human beings, superior beings derived from various works of fiction. Sherlock Holmes; Verne’s scientific romances, Godin’s Meru series, Heinlein’s classic works, simgame heroes and protagonists from ancient movies and books…” Her gaze shifted. “Such as Doctor Marc C. DuQuesne.”
“Blast it,” DuQuesne muttered, then straightened up. This could be it.
“I had my AISages check all the references, Doctor. Your original—quite an ambitious man. A patient man, a clever man, and one quite willing to deceive, manipulate, and even betray when the stakes were high enough. Someone with charisma enough to convince others of his motives, to draw them into his plans—and certain of his proper place above everyone else.”
And that’s a pretty good description of “Blackie” DuQuesne. Problem is…“I’m…not like him. They didn’t exactly design me that way—”
“So you would say, of course,” General Esterhauer said. “But I see a different pattern—one that also leads to me wondering if even Captain Ariane Austin is the woman who left the Unlimited Racing circuit to join Sandrisson’s crew. Has another substitution happened, when Dr. DuQuesne took her to a hidden location in search of more Hyperions? Or something worse, when she channeled a power we don’t even begin to understand?”
Her voice was increasing with conviction every moment, and DuQuesne finally understood. Yeah, she sees the pattern, he sent to the others, because someone’s been showing it to her, with appropriate subtle nudges to her subconscious, for months. Interface suborned, I’d bet.
Your Visualization is sound, youth, came Mentor’s sonorous transmitted voice. The manipulation of communications is clearly of a piece with that work.
DuQuesne saw Simon suddenly freeze, his eyes narrow and then widen, a look of clear understanding spreading across his face. The transmission Simon sent to Mentor and him was heavily encrypted. If you are right, Marc, then our unknown factor will be watching the situation and ready to trigger something if his, her, or its plan seems about to be disrupted.
DuQuesne felt a shock in his gut. Sure as God made little green apples. You got something, Simon?
Mentor, if you and DuQuesne can locate all her legitimate group members…I am certain that this unknown is not pres
ent in this room, or even immediately adjacent ones. Can the two of you, together, screen out or intercept any exterior transmissions?
A WORTHY CONCEPT, boomed the pseudo-voice of Mentor. Our adversary may of course have other mental conditionals in operation—contingencies, logic bombs, and so on—but this will certainly reduce the ability to play the game by remote. Yes, Simon Sandrisson, together I believe we can do this.
Then let’s get cracking, O Manipulator of Civilization, DuQuesne said, tense but hopeful. He opened up a full connection. Isaac? Gimme full net access, and back me up. We’re doing some serious cyberwarfare in a minute, or I miss my guess badly.
Hmph. Just remember that violence is the last refuge of the incompetent—
Yeah, DuQuesne interrupted with a grin, because the competent resort to violence MUCH sooner, before it’s too late!
“But the fact is that even all of that is just a side issue,” the general went on, startling the entire group. “The real point is that—whether this is some long-term plan by survivors of Hyperion, or simply Ariane Austin’s considered decision, it is the most dangerous plan I have ever seen.”
She looked first at White Camilla, but then to Saul, and there was a note of appeal—not pleading, but definitely reaching, trying to draw others to her cause. “Commander Maginot, members of the Space Security Council and the Combined Space Forces—we are the most free society the solar system has ever seen. We have so few laws, so few controls on our actions, that even after Hyperion we have had the smallest military force in the history of mankind, compared to our numbers. We didn’t have a large enough military establishment to support the research on our defenses against the Arena’s Factions—we depend on private sim focus groups, players of games whose entertainment happens to also hold the key to our defenses. Most of us—approaching sixty billion—answer to no one and nothing save our own consciences.