“It’s Ansti. He’s back in the couch. The par-born are gone. Things are back to normal. It seems…”
Ashur held the man’s gaze, and said nothing for a while before looking around and then returning his gaze to Ansti. Ashur laid a hand on the pilot’s neck and spoke in that soft way he had, that implied power held in check.
“Ansti, is he right? Are you back? Did you move us somewhere?”
For a moment it seemed that Ansti would not reply, and Tannen began to fear he was dead. There was certainly a stillness of death about him. But eyes flicked open and Ansti turned his head to Ashur and smiled.
“Yes… Ashur, we will do what we must and restore the balance. I am here to help again.”
Ashur recoiled a little as Ansti spoke. He had been looking directly at the closed lids of Ansti’s eyes and as they flicked open the shock of what he saw jolted him. Nothing was in those sockets. No light reflected from them, no iris or pupil locked with this own, and no catch-light reflected moistly. There was only deep matt black.
“Ansti, what has happened to you? Can you see me?”
Ashur was close and speaking as a doctor might to a frail patient. Ansti replied, his voice as calm and measured as Ashur’s had ever been.
“It’s uncomfortable being in this body again. I understand how it was for the par-born, but it is not painful for me, it is just… unpleasant and limiting. Ashur, you see this body and you think of Ansti, but the man you knew is not here. Don’t be fooled. I am using it as point of reference for you — something that you can relate to. I am very different now; my life has been changed beyond anything any human has experienced. I’ve been invited to become something new, something that is connected to the ecology of the universe. There is so much life Ashur, so much that you cannot see or feel. It is all around you, and invisible to you. Suns are just a part of it. Our universe teems with life in the places we think of as empty. I see it now, and I live there. From that new state, moving this ship is easy, and I can help in ways you could not have imagined. It’s ironic isn't it? I have become what our enemies feared, and what you plotted to create, but neither of you control it.”
Ashur stared at the body in front of him, unable to discern the truth. Was Ansti crazed or deluded in some way, the victim of an experience that hd pushed him too far, or was this part of a trap? There was also the possibility that some or all of what he said was true. Ashur weighed options and decided to buy time.
“Ansti where are we? Slow time has ended but the ship can’t feel anything.”
“You are on the barrier world Ashur. The ship has emerged where you intended it to. You are on the last step of your journey to Tash-eh Hruun”
Ashur didn't hide his fear and concern. He flinched as if preparing for a blow to fall, and flashed messages out to the crew, standing them to for fight and manoeuvre. He asked for status reports on the ship and the world outside. Nothing had changed; the ship was fully functional and the environment outside was a mystery. There was no indication of an attack, at least not in a form they recognised. Ashur listened, and reassured that there was no immediate threat returned his attention to Ansti.
“Ansti, how is this possible? Sun-shit, tell me in a way I can understand what it is that you have done and how we can be here, but not engaged in battle of some kind.”
“You’ve noticed the vehicle is gone Ashur. Your man is checking for signs of it, but he won’t find any. It is working with me now. Quite simply you are in a bubble. The vehicle has shrouded you from the Helvyani. It has persuaded the universe that you are on the barrier world and the barrier world that you are somewhere else. Call it camouflage if you wish. You cannot be attacked by the Helvyani because to them you do not exist here. You can’t sense the world because to do so would acknowledge its presence and the camouflage would cease to work. Perhaps it is better described as a form of useful delusion. The important thing is that from here you can make the next jump. I’ll disable the Helvyani hex and take you to Tash-eh Hruun if you wish.”
A noise from behind Ashur distracted him for a moment. Tannen was trying to say something and sending confused flashes through his guide patch. The neural blocks used to suppress his pain were building in his brain and creating side effects. He was becoming numb to the world and not thinking or speaking well. Ashur held a hand up to silence him, and it took a few more moments of garbled speech for Tannen to understand and lapse back into silence. Ashur regarded Ansti again. He also felt the prickle in his psyche that so irritated Tannen. The pilot seemed to wash in and out of reality while remaining perfectly visible. It was a very unsettling experience and it gnawed at the edge of consciousness like a splinter under a finger nail.
“Ansti, this whole story is incredible. You claim to have been transformed into some new kind of what, super-pilot? And now you can take on the role of a sun and move us without even the vehicle? Do you understand how that sounds? Do you understand how far you are asking me to stretch the limits of my trust? You’ve heard of Occam’s razor — the simplest explanation is the most likely one — and the most likely explanation here is that you have been compromised in some way. Either the Helvyani or par-born have corrupted you. I’d be a fool to rely on trust because I have no way of knowing how trustworthy you are. A few nights ago we made bargain to work together, now I need to know that bargain still stands. I need an act of faith Ansti — something I can believe in”
As he spoke Ashur was aware that he had nothing to bargain with. If just a fraction of what Ansti claimed was true then the ship and all who moved in it were at his mercy. Ashur was relying on one tenuous hope; that the fundamental goodness of Ansti, or whatever he considered himself to be now, was still there. He hoped the blackness of Ansti’s eyes was not a reflection of the emotions in his heart. The deep desire to cooperate rather than compete was entwined in the man’s DNA and his own morality, and it might be a lever. It might give Ashur something on which to grip and pull himself through the uncertain and surreal events that had engulfed him. Somehow he must regain control and return them to their mission. He had turned Ansti into a reluctant ally once, now he must do it again.
Chapter 19.
Annali stood in a gentle breeze, and just behind her the ambassador studied her new interpreter. She looked at the lines on Annali’s scalp, and traced the tell-tale signs of gene splicing. The work was quite exquisite. The blue and ochre lines were fine as hairs and geometrically perfect. It was very good work and appropriate for the task this new-born had been assigned to. The ambassador knew they had sent her one of the best. How could they not, after the last had failed so dramatically? This assignment tested all who were engaged in it. The alliance with the Helvyani was delicate and their ways were opaque. Every conversation and every meeting was played as an elaborate gladiatorial seduction. Everyone would survive a win-win outcome, but should there be a winner and a loser, then the loser would die in rapture, just as Annali’s predecessor had.
Annali was five months old and had been in training since she left the vats on Tash-eh Hruun. She’d come here as ready as anyone could be. Her mind had been engineered specifically for this task, and it was crammed with every scrap of information that the Tash-eh had about their allies, and the personalities they sent to this world. Annali had a reputation. She was notoriously hard to please, and that was good. She had suitors, but none could interest her, and she’d been exposed to breathtaking beauty and simply studied it. Her senses had been teased and excited, offered seductions and pleasures that other women would have gorged themselves on. And she had resisted them all. She could absorb and then reject even the most terrifyingly addictive experiences. It seemed that she was immune to pleasure.
And yet, the ambassador knew that Annali could be touched by delight. Her pleasure cortex had been grown to filter and divert pleasures, not to be devoid of them. No, she was not immune. Those who whispered about her behind her back were right. She was simply very hard to please. She had to feel in order to respond to the Helvya
ni introductions. The conversations would start with an opening, a teasing of the senses that all must respond to. It was the Helvyani way of demonstrating a shared commitment to negotiations. Each party had to make itself vulnerable. In order to reach agreement with the Helvyani there must be a risky exchange. Annali was in for a shock. She would feel pleasure in a way she never had before, and the ambassador knew that was the real test. If Annali could feel, and think and not be lost in ecstasy, then she was fit for purpose. Five months of training out of vat was a very long time. The ambassador hoped it would be worth the investment.
“It’s coming” Annali said and pointed upwards.
In the air above and to their front an object was drifting towards them. Even at this distance, the ambassador could see it had a pleasing shape. There was an aerial, symmetrical quality that made it right for its environment. It seemed to fit beautifully into the sky, as if the atmosphere itself had shaped it, and clouds had eroded it over millions of years. It moved with a perfect balance of grace and power, and continued its approach. As it drew closer streamers unfurled with words of welcome in Helvyani. Details revealed themselves and a multitude of delicate entwined structural aspects drew their attention. Beneath a large, round organic sail was a gondola shaped like a giant tear. It shimmered in iridescent greens and purples, and left behind it a pearlescent mist that disbursed gently.
Annali and the ambassador gazed until the craft finally touched down, settling onto the ground in front of them. As it made contact the iridescent skin of the gondola burst into thousands of tiny objects that fluttered and moved in a beautiful refracting flock. The objects swirled and danced like birds, before one manoeuvred itself directly into Annali’s hand. She felt a warm tingling sensation and looked down to see it was an exact replica of the full sized craft. As she regarded the model, it turned in on itself and dissolved in a puff of perfume. The scent conveyed welcome and pleasure and deep respect, and left behind it traces of exotic pollen wafted on warm summer breeze. Annali looked at the ambassador, who had been offered the same greeting.
The ambassador raised her eyebrows slightly and said, “Well, Annali, be attentive now. The negotiations have begun.”
The flight lasted one quarter of a day, and passed in beauty and comfort. Neither Annali nor the ambassador asked for anything. They had no need to. The craft seemed to understand their needs and desires, such as they were. Both women were careful to manage them, aware that the fulfilment of pleasure was a trap for the unwary. When thirsty, water appeared, drifting towards them in perfect weightless spheres. When hungry, simple food was offered, but it was exquisitely presented. They passed the time by chatting, aware that every word and nuance of body language was being studied by the craft’s Helvyani masters.
They had been drifting above the clouds. The landscape below revealing itself from time to time as the moisture laden banks swirled across the world. Occasionally one of them rose and gazed down through large windows taller than either of them, admiring mountains and seas, and once a city of their race. This world was deliberately kept sparsely populated by the Tash-eh. For all its beauty it was a potential battleground; the place where attack on their home world would be stopped, should it ever be attempted. The ambassador ruminated on this thought as she gazed out. These were uncertain times and attack here was unlikely, but not as unlikely as it had once been.
Annali was standing and looking out, alternating her gaze between the ground below, and the sky ahead, aware that they would soon reach their destination, and curious to see it for the first time. The ambassador knew this journey well, and was well aware that they would soon be within sight of the Helvyani embassy. She rose from the couch she had been reclining on, the movement itself an act of will power as she extracted herself from its delicious caress, and joined Annali at the big window.
“There it is” she murmured, and noticed that Annali’s eyes had already found it and fixed on it.
It was partially hidden by haze, but even at this distance it was clear that they drifted towards a huge pillar of cloud.
“So, Annali, we will be greeted soon. You know our allies will welcome us in the traditional way, don't you? Be ready and be courteous just as you have been taught.”
Annali knew full well that the greeting would be the opening move in the negotiations, and read the remark for what it was — a warning. She suppressed a knowing smile. The ambassador had survived here for most of her life. That in itself was impressive given the temptations and trials of the post, but what was exceptional was not her survival, it was her achievement. The ambassador had negotiated the defence treaty with the Helvyani. It was her who had navigated the complex ritual trading and dual of delights and brought two races to an understanding. She’d presented the Tash-eh leadership with a glittering prize; an impenetrable defence for their world. The Helvyani empathy hex made attack on this barrier world impossible, and therefore an attack on Tash-eh Hruun impossible too. She had guaranteed the defence of the home-world.
The ambassador felt a familiar knot of tension in her stomach. That knot came before every meeting with the Helvyani. It was right to be nervous; complacency would end in a beautiful death and the unraveling of the treaty. But there was a heightened tension in her that day. She had lost two interpreters in less than a year, and she knew each death eroded her reputation at home and lost her bargaining power with the Helvyani. She had contacts in the capital and heard of the gossip about her. Rivals said she expended the lives of her staff too easily. They said she protected herself at their expense, hiding behind juniors to keep herself safe. Of course there was truth in that, but it was far from the whole truth. She needed Annali to survive or her own career might end. She would be ready to go one day, but not yet. She wanted to secure renewal of the treaty first, and that would take a good deal more life.
They were close now. The great tower of clouds rising up before them and plunging down below to meet the carpet of cumulus that settled evenly above the land. They had arrived at sunset of course, and the light from their sun penetrated and twisted in the cloud tower, creating glowing highlights of soft warm invitation. A lesser person would have gasped at the beauty of it, and perhaps wondered how the tower was kept stationary in the high stratospheric winds. Someone with a passing knowledge of the planet’s meteorology might have wondered how clouds could exist at all at this altitude. Lesser persons might have let themselves be impressed by the Helvyani’s engineering skills, and invited the beauty of it to seduce their judgement. Annali and the ambassador had no such questions or feelings. They regarded the impossible pillar of moisture laden atmosphere as one might look at a dangerous jump — with a deep sense of focus and self-preservation.
The pair waited in front of the window that would soon become their door into the Helvyani Mission. They watched as the craft moved close and then entered the clouds. The quality of light shifted, moving from warm hues to darker purples and pinks, and then little flashes of lightning illuminated the interior. The flashes grew more constant until several massive billowing masses were lit from within, each casting complex shadows and highlights over their fellows. The craft moved through layers of clouds, each with its own light show, perfectly synchronised in twisting patterns that owed nothing to the force of wind. They progressed deep, until a final curtain of cloud parted and revealed a giant golden sphere. Somehow the light of the setting sun seemed to have found its way within the clouds. It was as if the photons themselves had been seduced by gold, and in a rapturous union produce a glowing, fiery, alloy offspring.
Annali felt a stirring of awe and quickly suppressed it. It shocked her that such a feeling had come so soon; she had expected that she would be challenged and tested by the Helvyani, but had not guessed it would come before they had even left the craft. This opening gambit by their allies indicated how seriously they would negotiate, and signalled the power of their persuasive skills. She gathered herself and learnt a lesson; her friends were more powerful than her enemies an
d just as deadly. She could sense the ambassador looking at her and wondered if some hint of her shock had leaked out. A small change in posture or breathing perhaps? The ambassador was skilled at reading such signs, and for a moment Annali had found herself unguarded. She knew the ambassador would say nothing now; they were under the watchful scrutiny of their allies. She gathered herself and disciplined her emotions. She would not slip again. To do so might kill them both.
The craft halted and the door opened by dissolving and spinning away in a circle of shimmering gases. They were still some distance from the sphere — close enough that it was all they could see, but nowhere near close enough to move too it. Just a few steps ahead was empty atmosphere and a fall to earth that would last more than long enough to contemplate the folly of stepping out. Annali took a sideways glance at the ambassador, unsure of exactly what to do. The ambassador was motionless and waiting, seemingly serene. Annali followed her unspoken direction and remained still.
The music was felt before it was heard. It drifted in on the sparse atmosphere, hints of notes tickling their ears. The volume rose slowly until the patterns of sound were clear. Long trembling bass tones, ripe with the basso hum of electrical power, growled and purred, holding a promise of rhythm that never quite emerged. Below them even deeper bass notes rumbled and played gently over each other. Soft treble introduced a sensual giving melody, slow and deliberate, each note lingering and then dissipating before the next was formed. At the edges of perception something shimmered and tinkled; a sound that could not be missed and yet could not be fully heard, almost subliminal in its contact with the mind. Annali listened and knew that she listened to the sound of love. To lose it would bring unbearable heartbreak. She listened intently and thanked her makers that she could not feel love, understanding for the first time what a terrible power it held over her race.
The Man Who Talked to Suns Page 26