Transformation Space (Sentients of Orion Book 4)

by Marianne de Pierres

  ‘How will I find this Petalu Mau?’

  ‘He’ll be with Lasper, bein’ his bodyguard. Big, wide teranu who likes to eat. Can’t mistake him. No one else looks like him.’

  ‘Farr’s bodyguard?’

  ‘Bethany’s as well. Beth treats him a lot better.’

  ‘But what about Farr’s soldiers?’

  ‘We been laying the groundwork for years. Won’t take more than a word and a show of strength; most of them will come over. They ain’t loyal to Lasper. They just get paid.’

  The idea of treachery made Balbao’s thick skin sting. Farr would be betrayed by his personal bodyguard and his own soldiers. What did that say for these two old fiends? Should he trust them at all? ‘You think they’ll come for me?’

  ‘Mebbe. Mebbe not,’ said Hob. ‘Sure as hell they won’t come for us, ‘cept to spit us into the black.’

  ‘What about the others? They all have their expertise. It might be one of them. Labile is a geneer.’

  ‘You said you was chief scientist?’

  Balbao nodded.

  Sammy gave a quiet, satisfied grunt. ‘He’ll need you.’

  TRIN

  Trin watched the mercenary closely. Two, nearly three days had passed since one of the arrivals had stolen the AiV in which they’d come. Randall had been fit to murder when she’d seen Rasterovich go, swearing all kinds of revenge.

  Trin told Juno and Tivi to watch her too. He sensed her volatility and suspected that only the solemnity of the burial they gave Cass Mulravey’s child kept her anger from spilling out. Respect for the dead. And the mother.

  Mulravey herself seemed broken. Though she still fed and tended to Vito, the child Mira Fedor had left behind, her manner was reflexive. Her physical body had become a shell that housed no spirit.

  Trin almost missed the antagonist he’d become accustomed to fending off. Despite her disruptive manner, Mulravey had been a clear and quick thinker, a person worthy of notice. Trin felt the need for good opinions.

  Innis had disappeared again. His woman, Liesl, was feeding him, slipping extra food in her robe and stealing away in the darkness to meet him. Trin thought to send Tivi and Juno after her, to bring Innis to account, but for now he needed them close by, watching Randall and her man Catchut.

  He didn’t think that the survivors could tolerate a sentencing at this moment. The group had come so close to splitting. Only the arrival of the strangers had halted that, yet still he felt it could happen at any time, with Innis hiding and Liesl agitating the others.

  ‘Principe, food is prepared,’ Djes called out to him.

  Trin turned back from where he stood at the edge of their camp, staring at the bright objects in the night sky, and walked back to the dinner circle.

  Spirits were low; he saw it in the dispirited postures and lack of conversation. Randall and Catchut sat apart from the rest, with Kristo.

  Despite Djes’s catch of bass and squid, and the sweet paste that Tina Galiotto had made from berries and water, Trin felt as despondent as the rest.

  The arrival of the AiV had resurrected thoughts of rescue in all of them, and now its loss and the accidental death of Mulravey’s boy deepened their collective misery. For the first time since they’d begun their flight through the Pablo tunnels, Trin had nothing to give them. No hope. No direction.

  He sat next to Djes and ate in silence. What would become of them? Would they gradually kill each other off with surprise attacks, such as the one Innis had attempted? Or would they simply die of disease when their Health Watch ran out? And what about Djes? Did she prefer Joe Scali’s company to his?

  The howling noise in the distance took some time to register in his consciousness, so deep was he in despair.

  Djes nudged him. ‘Trinder? What’s that?’

  He stood up. From the east came the sound of rushing wind.

  Other heads lifted; bodies stiffened.

  Trin craned his neck skyward, searching for the source. Fear spiked through him. ‘Take cover!’

  The survivors picked up their food shells and hastened to their caves, staying close to the mouths so they could still see out.

  ‘There!’ Joe Scali pointed east, just above the tree-line.

  Trin saw the shadows in the sky, like giant moths given dim outline by Tiesha’s glow and the backdrop carpet of satellites.

  ‘AiVs,’ said someone.

  ‘No!’ Randall laughed and walked out into the open. Trin couldn’t see her face, but her voice was filled with sudden energy. ‘Biozoons. Crux-damned biozoons.’

  The shadows passed over the mountain crest and swept on out to sea.

  ‘They’ve missed us!’ Josefia Genarro exclaimed.

  Others joined in her cry of disappointment.

  ‘No.’ Randall again. This time she turned and walked straight back up to Trin. ‘They’ll have to land down on the beach, in the water. You got someone who can show me the quickest way down?’

  Trin hesitated. ‘Who would be in the biozoons? Why would they come here?’

  ‘Not sure who the second is, but one of them’s got to be Fedor. We picked up a ‘cast back on Pell, her ‘zoon’s signature from orbit. Not sure how the hell she made it down here without getting banged up, but I warrant it’s her, and that she’s come for us.’

  Trin stared back into the sky with disbelief. Mira Fedor.

  MIRA

  Mira started awake as a hand touched her shoulder. Tekton had disengaged from his nub and was standing next to her.

  ‘Baronessa, I would speak with you privately,’ he whispered.

  She blinked and looked around the buccal. Josef was still in Autonomy, eyes closed and flickering with dreamsleep. Tapping the nub to release her, she got to her feet. Sleep had refreshed her enough that she was now hungry. ‘Would there be food?’

  ‘I have hoarded some in my cabin. If you would accompany me there, I have something of the utmost importance to show you.’

  Mira regarded the man. She’d heard little of Tekton of Lostol that would recommend him as trustworthy, and yet right at this moment he seemed as sincere as any ‘esque could be.

  ‘What is the nature of the thing you would show me?’ she asked.

  ‘It is... without meaning to sound grandiose... a matter of our survival.’

  She nodded.

  As they made their way along the strata to Tekton’s cabin, Mira was again pained by what she saw—the piles of rubbish and the unhealthy smell of rot. The corporeals, Jancz and like, had not cared for the hybrid at all.

  Not surprising, she thought, given what they were. Wanton had been correct when it had said that Hosts could be humanesque, and yet she had not quite believed the little Extro.

  ‘The biozoon is sick,’ she said.

  ‘Yes.’ Tekton stopped in front of a ridged door and pressed the pucker. It opened sluggishly.

  Inside, the room was similar to Insignia’s cabins, save for the grey tinge to the walls and small pools of biozoon secretion in the corners. There were no furnishings other than the bed, on which lay a small dark box.

  Mira paused just inside the pucker and waited for Tekton to speak.

  He pointed at the box. ‘Do you know what that is, Baronessa?’

  She regarded the innocuous object, wondering why the sight of it filled her with dread. Finally, she shook her head.

  ‘I... borrowed it from Lasper Farr after he tried to have me murdered. At the time I thought it would be both a fine revenge and a useful appendage. That’s all. But now, having spent many hours between Intel station and here learning its nuances, I’m not sure that my choice was the most judicious.’

  Mira’s eyes widened a little. ‘You stole something from Commander Farr?’

  ‘Yes. While you were making your pronouncements of impending doom on Intel, I was busy ransacking his cabin. But that is far from the point I would make. Do you know what this does?’

  She shook her head again.

  ‘It is called a bifurcation or Dyn
amic System Device, a fascinating object that has only, until this was created, been theorised about.’

  Mira frowned, recalling the encounter with Commander Farr at the trade faire. Josef Rasterovich had fallen into a deep trance-like state and then collapsed on the floor of the tent after immersion in Farr’s virtual world. He’d spoken little of his experience to them, other than to curse the Commander.

  ‘I have heard something of such theories. The idea is to predict things,’ she said.

  ‘That is a most simplistic explanation of its capabilities. It’s fed by information, collected and delivered to the device’s astounding—unbelievable—processing capability. Skilled interaction with the DSD will enable you to view possible outcomes of events, but it will also allow the user to locate optimum points at which changes might be made to affect those outcomes.’

  ‘To change life?’

  ‘More precisely, to create new outcomes. Acting at those points is essential to the change. Attempting to make alterations at a less than optimum point will amount to nothing more than a clustering and local disturbance. The outcomes will remain the same.’

  He picked up a juice container and sipped from it. Then he rummaged in a crate on the bedside table and produced another one, which he offered to Mira.

  She saw that the seal was intact and took it. The sweet tepid liquid eased her dry throat.

  ‘Here.’ He passed her a small carton of dry biscuits and sank onto the bed next to the box. ‘After spending much time observing Orion’s future with the device, I have learned that there are few outcomes from the Post-Species invasion of OLOSS that don’t end in the destruction of all the humanesque and alien species.’ He sagged further until his body appeared almost folded upon itself. ‘In fact, Baronessa, there is only one.’

  She waited again, nibbling the biscuits as he sought to convey what he knew.

  ‘Excuse my bluntness, but time is a factor. You see, the optimum point for averting the destruction of our species, Baronessa, is nearly upon us, and involves you.’

  ‘Me?’ Mira stepped back against the pucker.

  ‘You and your newborn child, who I believe is aboard your biozoon, and the man piloting this ship.’

  ‘Josef?’

  ‘Yes. Josef Rasterovich.’ Tekton’s face crumpled into a kind of disgust. ‘I’ve seen the point of change, and the three of you must be there.’

  ‘W-what must w-we do?’

  ‘It is unclear to me exactly what you should do, only that you must be there. It would be best if I showed you. Have you heard of the Sole Entity?’

  ‘Si.’

  ‘You know then that I was one of its tyros?’

  ‘Si.’

  ‘The device has shown me that the Entity has left the space around Belle-Monde, and has been travelling throughout Orion to the areas of destruction.’

  ‘What is it doing?’

  ‘I could not be sure. But I am not convinced, now, that its purpose is entirely benign. I do however think that it has a curious way about it. It has given us a

  chance to manage our own affairs by giving us this gift.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come, Baronessa, and see what I mean.’

  Mira hesitated, unsure that she liked the desperate light in the Godhead’s eyes. He seemed a little... disturbed, though lucid enough with it.

  Mama?

  Si, Nova.

  You must listen to him, and see.

  Why do you say that?

  You must trust me, Mama. Even if you don’t trust him.

  Mira took a deep breath. ‘Where would you have me stand? And how do I watch?’

  Tekton smiled and patted the bed. ‘No need to stand, Baronessa. In fact, best not to.’

  * * *

  Mira’s immersion was intense, but not painful like her early days of bonding with Insignia had been. She let Tekton’s voice guide her through the streams of images. His narration became an anchor in a sea of horror and destruction.

  Her connection to the Post-Species invasion was more vivid and visceral than anything she’d seen on farcast. The dust of imploded worlds seemed to coat her, the screams of the dying twisted her stomach, and the dryness of the solar winds parched her mouth. She was there, witnessing the end of family dynasties, the disfiguration of whole planetary systems, the sudden and profound snuffing out of billions and billions of lives.

  The scale of annihilation became incomprehensible, and yet among it she saw faint shafts of hope. Many systems had closed their shift spheres. Some might never reopen, while others would do so to find Geni-carriers still waiting. Non-Corporeal Post-Species had no age, no limit on patience, no need to find other distractions. They would wait, and they would kill.

  ‘They must never reopen their shift spheres,’ she whispered.

  ‘There is another way,’ said Tekton. ‘Come.’

  He guided her in deeper. She saw images of herself, scenes that had already played out: sitting at a table with Bethany Ionil and Josef at the trade faire on Edo, riding in the taxi with Thales, the markets on Rho Junction, being enveloped by a crowd of siphonophores...

  ‘Now we move forward,’ said Tekton. ‘Commands can be given sub-vocally or using micro-expressions, the same way most virtuals interact.’

  Mira tried using a combination of both to slow the image flow. After several tries she became accustomed to it. It was much clumsier than her mind bond with Insignia, but effective enough.

  All the while, she followed Tekton’s crisp monologue on how to follow the pathways of projected futures, making great leaps in time like an all-powerful god.

  She saw many different paths leading to one result: the rise of the Post-Species consciousness and the end of humanesque- and alien-kind.

  ‘Did Commander Farr know this?’ she asked Tekton.

  ‘I expect so.’

  ‘How far forward can the device forecast? Is it infinite?’

  ‘I’ve explored that question a little, and strangely it is not. There is a point at which the information stops propagating. Not an end but more like an invisible wall—a barrier between us and what comes next.’

  Mira might have found Tekton’s answer fanciful at any other time, but not now, not with what she had seen. The device itself was remarkable—and frighteningly powerful.

  Suddenly, she wanted to disengage from it. Get away. Toss it into the void. No person should have such potential at their beck and call, least of all a selfish academic or a mercenary leader. Neither Farr nor Tekton, nor even she, was safe with its powers. She wanted to tell Tekton how she felt, but he kept on talking.

  ‘If we take a different perspective on the information streams, you can see the potential change nodes, the points at which optimum change can be effected, the point at which you must be present.’

  Her virtual landscape changed to the impression of a chaotic spinning knot. She could hardly breathe, wondering what it represented.

  ‘Shall we look, Baronessa?’

  Mama. You must. Nova had been quiet throughout, but now she sent another urgent thought. With it, her child sent her a sense of confidence and inevitability.

  ‘I must,’ said Mira. ‘I must.’

  BALBAO

  They came for him sooner than even Hob or Sammy could have guessed. The lights flared, disturbing their slumber, and guards dragged him from his bunk soon after he’d returned to it.

  Miranda and Jise roused enough to make a faint protest, but Sammy and Hob simply watched. Connit never stirred.

  They marched him through the convoluted corridors of the ship to the transport lock. Farr was waiting on the station side of the hatch, speaking with a harassed official. Ra was with him, and a huge teranu with a fleshy face and broad shoulders that he had to compress to fit in the narrow tube. Petalu Mau.

  ‘Balbao.’ The Godhead nodded.

  ‘What am I doing here?’ snarled Balbao.

  ‘I need your assistance,’ said Ra.

  ‘For what?’

  Ra ignored him, focusing b
ack on Farr’s conversation with the official. As Sammy had guessed, the Commander was trying to get access to the station information node.

  ‘Our IN’s in lockdown, Commander,’ said the ‘esque. ‘The Sophos have restricted access.’

  ‘Mau,’ said Farr.

  The huge teranu grabbed the ‘esque by the tunic and lifted him off his feet, shaking him.

  Farr folded his arms. ‘Unrestrict it.’

  The official paled and nodded.

  Petalu Mau dropped him to the floor and gave him a shove.

  The terrified official hurried forward. Mau followed him with Farr striding on Mau’s heels. He didn’t bother to acknowledge Balbao’s presence, and his soldiers nudged Ra and Balbao along quickly to keep up.

  The station was chaotic and at capacity, bodies crowding every standing space. It seemed to Balbao that everyone there was either arguing or pleading with someone else.

  Getting to the information node became a nightmare of mini-confrontations between Petalu Mau and Farr’s soldiers, and those in their way. The red robes of the Scolar police punctuated the milling throng, but even they only seemed to be able to contain pockets of the confusion.

  Scolar station was close to anarchy. Balbao saw it in the aggressive stares; felt it in the undercurrent of panic. Everyone wanted off, but the planet-transit ships were backlogged, and the sphere itself could only process at a certain speed. Farr must have used extreme coercion to get docking permission.

  The IN entrance was guarded by a contingent of four tired station security guards. Farr ordered several his of soldiers to stay with them and the rest to accompany him inside.

  Balbao followed Ra and the others into the darkened chamber. The smell of sweat and the whirr of fans assailed his senses, twenty or more data dispersal technicians working on top of each other.

  ‘Ra?’ Farr’s calmness unnerved Balbao.

  Ra pointed to a workstation on the other side of the chamber.

  Petalu Mau advanced on the person using it and cleared her with a clout of one large hand. The IN supervisor stormed across but Farr’s soldiers backed him up against the wall at gunpoint. Soon all the technicians and scientists were next to him.