by Alex Lamb
He scowled at them. ‘Yes, we’re going.’
Moneko nodded once and accompanied him out through the usual route. This time, their search took them to an empty Cold War-style command centre with maps of Snakepit displayed on a glowing board. In place of nuclear installations, the planet’s defensive nodes were marked. Her Venetian gown swished on the carpet as she strode silently across the space. She didn’t speak to him until she’d led him to a dusty closet on the far side where more forgotten software icons sat crammed together on shelves.
‘There’s a reason we don’t come here much,’ she said glumly as he squeezed next to her dress. ‘It’s dangerous. Balance knows you come here, so there are tripwires. Be careful what you touch.’
‘Understood,’ he said.
‘Also …’ she said. ‘Please try to make up your own mind about what to do next. Okay? Don’t let anyone do it for you, including me. Will you promise that?’
When she looked up at him, there was something imploring in her gaze – a note of vulnerability that managed to be both optimistic and weary.
‘I promise,’ he said.
‘Keep those chocolates handy,’ she said. ‘You may need them.’
With her eyes downcast, she tucked a fresh handkerchief into his doublet. If she had any awareness of having lost one previously, she showed no sign of it. Their stealthware apparently maintained an endless supply.
Moneko breathed deeply and opened another impossible door. Behind it lay a balcony outside a party Will had once attended and failed to enjoy. There were views from high up a canyon-side, out across a trench town at night. Will could smell jasmine and hear music booming nearby, carrying the sound of a woman’s voice.
‘Music music music!’ she sang. ‘Way way too loud music!’
The party had been held by a once-dear friend with whom Will had long since parted opinions. He’d spent the better part of an hour sipping a drink he didn’t like and trying to decide when he could politely leave. For an axiom themed around personal hesitancy, the symbolism couldn’t have been clearer.
Will stepped through.
‘Goodbye, Cuthbert,’ said Moneko stiffly. ‘For what it’s worth, I really liked you this time. See you later, maybe.’ She closed the door.
Will walked to the railing and took a moment to let his emotions settle. He stared out into the remembered Galatean night. He suspected that everything would pivot on his next choice.
Smiley joined him at the railing. ‘What happened?’ he said. ‘Why didn’t you kill him?’
Will slid him an angry glance. ‘I chose not to.’
‘For what possible reason?’ said Smiley. ‘You exist to kill Cancers. That’s why this planet makes you, or haven’t you figured that out yet? You’ve seen some of the hideous shit your so-called clones get up to. Wasn’t that enough? Didn’t you want to do something about it?’
‘Of course I wanted to do something about it!’ Will snapped. ‘But not at random. Not blindly, because that’s obviously how you get yourself killed around here. But you don’t care about that, do you? As far as you’re concerned, that’s what I’m for.’
‘What in fuck’s name is random about clearing this shit up?’ Smiley asked. ‘John’s as much of a Cancer as those monks. Don’t you get that? Ripping threads is ripping threads. It doesn’t matter whose they are. He’s still damaging this planet – making more of that filth you saw. He uses it to hide in, Will. He wants it there.’
‘If it’s such a big deal, why don’t you kill them?’
‘Because I’ve eaten all my chocolates, dimwit! And plenty of others you haven’t even seen yet. I know too much. If I put a toe outside the Underlayer, Balance will get me. I used up my last chance tracking you because I thought it was worth it. I hoped you’d help because you’re me. My days are numbered, Cuthbert. I’m not reaching out for fun. I’ve spent as much time as I can trying to understand this place and now I’m just hoping to make that knowledge count before it’s too late.’
Will looked away, glaring out at the planet that had once been his home. He wondered what bitter visions Smiley must have seen to make him end up this way.
‘Can’t you see what you’re for?’ Smiley urged. ‘You’re a white blood cell. That’s all. The planet doesn’t care about you beyond your function. Or me. Or any of us. You’re part of something so much larger than yourself that you can’t even wrap your head around it. And once you get past trying to leave all the damned time, you’ll realise that you can still matter. That you have a duty.’
‘If I’m a cell, what are you supposed to be?’
‘I’m your goddamn bone marrow! I’m trying to help you here. We both know what happened. We were suckered by the Transcended. They trapped us here. They built this awful parody. And now there’s only one thing we can do that counts: keep our shit together until our future selves can get off this rock. Because when they do, that’s when we finally deliver an almighty fucking blow of vengeance against the bastards that did this to us.’
‘If you believe that, then why not try to escape instead?’
‘I did!’ said Smiley. ‘God knows how many times. But I came to terms with the fact that I wasn’t the one. And neither are you. And neither will any of us be for probably another century. Because wherever they put that root hack, it’s hidden so deep that a million of us haven’t found it. And in the meantime, if we don’t keep the Cancers down, we lose. The planet just melts into despair and the Photurians take it all back.’
‘I’m not giving up,’ said Will.
‘That’s not what this is,’ Smiley told him. ‘It’s the opposite. It’s accepting that you’re not special, and that you have a fucking job to do so that the rest of you who come after don’t have to abandon hope.’
He grabbed Will by his lapels and dragged him away from the railing. His strength was extraordinary, his expression fierce. He shoved Will backwards. When he hit the floor, it was in the Underground’s soft-space office with the ocean view.
‘Don’t need a search corridor for this site any more,’ said Smiley, stepping through the portal he’d just made. ‘Thanks to you, I now have a shortcut.’ The opening sealed behind him.
Will staggered to his feet. ‘I’m not helping you with this.’
He made for the door. Smiley waved a hand and a lock appeared on it.
‘Have you noticed that there aren’t many locks on this world?’ he said. ‘Funny kind of security, isn’t it? What do you make of that?’
Will tried the door anyway. Unsurprisingly, it wouldn’t budge. He turned to face the older Glitch, his eyes dark with fury.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ said Smiley. ‘You have no idea what I’m capable of.’
‘Where’s Balance?’ Will growled. ‘I thought you were supposed to be dead by now.’
‘We’re right in the centre of the Underground’s resentment field. But don’t worry, that won’t last long. In the meantime, you should just relax.’
Thirty seconds later, John popped into existence and took in the sight of Smiley with astonishment.
‘Shit,’ he said.
‘Shit is right,’ said Smiley. ‘Tell me, Brown, when were you going to explain to young Cuthbert here about all the Cancers you’ve deliberately infiltrated? Or about how you’re moving anchors around to cover your actions?’ His voice rose to a shout. ‘Or using the very Wills who should be beating Cancers in order to advance it!’
John glanced around nervously, unable to see Will with his stealthware active. He held out a placating hand.
‘I’ve been trying to fix this place,’ he said. ‘That’s all. Why don’t you let Cuthbert go? We can talk about this like rational variants.’
‘Let him go?’ Smiley exclaimed. ‘He’s my fucking witness!’ He wagged a finger at John. ‘Someone has to know what happened here. Get this, Cuthbert – there are five known Cancer infestations in the Willworld right now and this fucker has his claws in all of them. But instead of killing them, he co-op
ts them from inside, slowly taking them over. That’s why we never have to wait long in this office for his filthy face to appear. Because there are about a hundred and fifty of him running in parallel, using the Underground’s shield to keep that quiet. Even his own people don’t have a clue what he’s doing.’
John shook his head. ‘You don’t understand. Yes, some of this is morally dubious, but that’s because I’m trying to make a difference. Other methods weren’t working, so I shaped myself this way for a reason – to do what other Wills couldn’t do!’
A second copy of John appeared, glanced around in alarm and darted to the corner of the room where he ripped open a wall-panel. Behind it, Will could see a suntap.
‘If either of you moves, I break this,’ said John Two. ‘You know what happens if I do that.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ said Smiley. ‘The shield drops and it’s Balance-time for all of us. You must think you’re pretty clever, out-Cancering the Cancers.’
‘I did what was necessary,’ said John. ‘This world is becoming toxic. Someone had to act. If I hadn’t done this, another Will would have tried sooner or later.’
Will’s eyes shuttled from John to Smiley and back again. To his mind, there was barely a whisker of difference between the two men. Both were convinced they were right. Both were determined to push their agendas for the good of the world. Of course they were, he realised with disappointment. They were both him.
‘And a Glitch was never going to do it,’ John added, ‘because every time you come back you’re a naive idiot! You have all the tools and none of the inherent flexibility. When I control enough of Balance, we all get to leave this world.’
‘Because you’ll be in charge.’
‘No. Just powerful enough. Cancer is a reality, Smiley. Either we use it for good or we let it destroy us. There’s no other way.’
‘Where good means a shitload of you everywhere, is that right?’ said Smiley. ‘What about all the other kinds of threads? While you eat Cancer, Cancer eats the world. But you want that, don’t you? That’s the point. You have your Glitches move the axioms about to make it easier for the rot to spread while you never get the blame. This little game with my copies gives you the edge to outcompete every other infection on the planet. And because you keep your Glitches dumb, they never notice what they’re doing. Even if they catch you, you have moral cover for your actions. And meanwhile, the whole world loses diversity. They’ll all have to go eventually, won’t they? Moneko and the rest of them.’
‘Would that honestly matter?’ John exclaimed. ‘We were the same person once. If making that true again gives us the galaxy, isn’t that worth it?’
‘Right,’ said Smiley. ‘When you’re running everything and the only Will left is the one who’s edited himself all the way to grasping amorality.’
‘I have a plan, at least,’ said John. ‘I have hope. And there’s room for you in it, if you’d just take a moment to think past your bitterness and judgement. Glitches don’t change, so why not help me get what you want instead of fucking it up for your own kind? Would you really rather see the Photurians win? Or lose yourself when the world resets? You could own worlds, Smiley.’
Smiley snapped his fingers. In the air beside Will, a portal opened, leading back to the Underlayer site they’d just left.
‘I think you’ve heard enough, Cuthbert,’ said Smiley. ‘My job is now your job. I hope you fight the good fight. And now you should leave because I’m about to bring down the house.’
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ said John. ‘You’d die just as fast as I would.’
Smiley actually smiled. It wasn’t pretty. ‘Make sure you check out the Carnevale,’ he said.
With that, Smiley’s body started to shiver and deform. He rushed forwards in a smear of darkness. Then everything happened at once. Both Johns screamed. The anchor sprang loose from the wall. Half a second later, a Balance portal opened and multi-limbed giants surged into the room. The office filled with virtual bodies tangling at impossible speeds.
Will dived through the portal Smiley had summoned and lay panting on the balcony as it snapped shut behind him.
‘Music music music!’ the woman in the background cried.
Even with only a few SAPs running, it was clear to Will what had happened. Smiley was yanking all John’s threads while Balance was trying to yank his. The Underground’s resentment field had already collapsed. He wondered how long it would take for Balance agents to storm Radical Hill.
He jumped to his feet and made his way off through the memory landscape as fast as he could, to put as much distance between himself and the unfolding disaster as possible.
12.2: MARK
As Mark closed on the lure star that had so long been the object of his fascination, an unpleasant truth revealed itself: he could find no trace of the gate he’d come so far to use. At the first Penfield Lobe humanity had discovered, the distortion in the curvon flow close to the lure star had been hard to miss. A nearby black hole warped the local shell, creating a high curvon gradient and the means to access a new region of the galaxy closer to the core. This time, the lure star appeared to be on the flat shell ahead of them with no attendant distortion whatsoever. The miracle he needed wasn’t there.
As Mark flew towards it with his warp-envelope repeatedly crashing, despair set in. He saw for the first time what a ludicrous stretch his plan was. He’d always known it was optimistic to hope that the new gate would lead to the same shells as the old one. Apparently, it had been wishful thinking to even anticipate a gate at all.
But what else was he supposed to do? All that remained was to move forward. To keep trying, blindly if necessary.
‘What are you going to do?’ Palla said as Mark stared dolefully at the starscape ahead.
‘My best,’ he replied, his voice cracking.
‘I’m sorry,’ she told him. ‘You worked so hard for this.’ She laid a gentle hand on his arm.
Mark stiffened and threw his consciousness out of helm-space and back into the Dantes. He took them on as meandering a path towards the star as he dared, desperately trying to pick up traces of shell-distortion. Each frantic course-correction created another opportunity for the Photes to close on his lead. He didn’t doubt that they were right behind him.
A sick fury at the Transcended welled up inside him as they neared the star’s heliopause without a hint of an exit vector. He could no longer tell what was part of their rat maze and what was just terrible luck. In the final analysis, it didn’t even matter.
‘I’m calling an all-hands,’ said Palla quietly. ‘The others need to know about this.’
Mark reluctantly handed the ship to a submind fragment and pulled back into his avatar as the others appeared.
‘There’s no gate,’ she said. ‘Or at least none that we can see. If it’s here, it’s well hidden.’
‘There’s an obvious solution,’ said Ira.
Judj cocked an eyebrow. ‘Which is?’
‘We go and talk to the lure, just like the Ariel team did. Presuming that this star has a contact planet.’
The implications weren’t pretty. Mark felt a rock land in his heart.
‘I hate to point this out,’ said Rachel bitterly, ‘but the Transcended don’t have a great track record for open communication. They tell you what they want you to know and no more. After they’ve colonised your brain, that is, and trashed all of your software.’
‘But Ira’s still right,’ said Clath. She was containing a smile, Mark noticed. She actually wanted this. ‘Until we open up a channel, we don’t know what they might tell us. Under the circumstances, we have to try. I don’t see any better options.’
Mark gazed at her and felt the same kind of leaden inevitability that had pressed itself upon him when they’d reached Rachel’s casket. Of course they were going to have to talk with the Transcended. He’d been a fool for believing that free will would be an option on the far side of the Flaw. The neighbourhood trolls wanted payment bef
ore they let someone cross their shitty little bridge.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I see how it is. I’ll talk to the lure.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ said Clath, raising a hand. ‘Any of us could do it. It doesn’t have to be a roboteer this time – we’ve all got shadows. In fact, I volunteer. I’ll use the quarantine core, if that helps.’
‘That’s a nice idea except you’re our resident physicist,’ said Ira. ‘We’ll need you intact for what follows and if you know your history, you’ll realise that’s by no means guaranteed. I’m oldest and most disposable. Plus I have some history with these guys.’
‘You’re all being ridiculous,’ said Ann. ‘I’m the obvious candidate.’
‘Hey, isn’t this nice?’ said Palla, waving them to silence. ‘Everyone wants to play. You’re like knights trying to pick who gets to fight the dragon. Well, guess what – I’m SAO, so none of you gets to decide. That’s my job. What do you think, Judj?’
Judj snorted in amusement. ‘From a security standpoint? I hate to say it but it should be Ann. She’s got extra hardware already. And she’ll be better protected than the rest of us against any subversion attempt. Everyone wanting to make sacrifices is lovely but hardly relevant. If the Transcended get into our systems, we’re all at risk.’
‘Ann, you’re up,’ said Palla.
Mark shook his head. Apparently, the rest of them couldn’t yet see how this was going to play out. They wouldn’t want Ann. She already had smart-cells. Her meat wasn’t fresh enough. These fuckers would only be satisfied with a bite of true roboteer. But he kept his thoughts to himself and took the Dantes in, dropping to sub-light as he went.
The lure star hosted a single planet, as expected, perfectly smooth like its sister-world over a hundred light-years distant. In fact, in all aspects but one, this star system was functionally identical. That difference: a ring of ninety-six identical moonlets circling the lure world on long, slow orbits. Their size and spacing left no doubt that they were artificial. Their surfaces looked as uniform and unmarked as the planet they waltzed around. Each was about a hundred and fifty kilometres wide, approximately the size of the average modern battle cruiser.