Corpus is displaying pictures from sensors on Earth for them.
“Really? Where from?”
London. Fletcher Christian has arrived to help the police locate Quinn Dexter. Tracy is concerned that the security services have acquired the life-pattern disrupter weapon.
Jay sighed with impatience. Tracy kept telling her how momentous events were back in the Confederation. Privately Jay thought the way the old observers got into such a tizz over all the political shenanigans was stupid. All she really wanted to know was when it was all going to be over and she could see her mother again. Loads of politicians arguing about who they should ally their planets with wasn’t going to bring any sort of end to the crisis.
Friend Jay, what is wrong?
“I want to go home.” She hated how miserable and whiny she sounded.
Corpus asks that you be patient.
“Huh!” Suffering quickly turned to a spike of anger. “As if it cares.”
It does care,a distressed haile said. All Kiint care.
“Right.” She wasn’t going to argue with Haile, it always upset both of them.
Tracy comes,haile said with a note of hope.
Jay saw the old woman riding a chrome-blue air scooter towards them. Several of the Village residents used the little vehicles to get about on, each one as individual as its owner. Tracy’s was a fat ellipsoid shape with a recessed saddle in the middle. Stubby triangular fins with red tail lights protruded from the rear third; for show Jay assumed. There were also some positively anachronistic circular headlights on the front, like glass jewels. Tracy called it her T-bird.
Another thing Jay was banned from using by herself. She was convinced the sleek-looking vehicle could go a lot faster than Tracy’s maximum speed.
It glided silently through the air at about twenty kilometres an hour, keeping a good two metres above the ground.
Jay stood up, brushing sand from her swimsuit as the T-bird landed beside her.
“Sorry I’m late, poppet,” Tracy said. “Haile, my dear, you’ll have to look after yourself this afternoon. I’m going to take Jay to Agarn.”
“What’s Agarn?”
Tracy explained as they walked back to the chalet, the T-bird following faithfully behind. Agarn was another planet in the Arc, inhabited by a small number of Kiint. They didn’t involve themselves in the kind of life practised by the majority of the Arc, preferring more philosophical pursuits. “So mind your manners,” Tracy warned. “They’re a very dignified group.”
“Why are we going there?”
“The Agarn Kiint are slightly different from the others. I’m hoping they’ll intervene in our favour. It’s a bit of a last resort, but things are turning ugly in the Confederation. I’m worried the situation will result in a squalid kind of stalemate. Nothing will be resolved, which is one of the worst outcomes there can be.”
She inspected Jay’s clothes, a pair of khaki shorts and a blue T-shirt, with sturdy hiking boots. “You’ll do, quite the little explorer.”
“Why am I going with you?”
“So they can get a look at a true human.”
“Oh.” Jay didn’t like that idea at all. “Can’t they look at the pictures from the Confederation like you do?”
“In a way they already have. They haven’t turned their back on Corpus. If they had there wouldn’t be any point to visiting them.”
Jay just smiled. She still really didn’t understand Corpus.
Agarn didn’t have any buildings within sight of the teleport circle they arrived on. They were on the rolling foothills of a wide valley. It was kind of like the parkland of Riynine, but left untended for a couple of centuries. Lush emerald grass-analogue swamped the ground. Trees were twisting towers of clustered magenta bubbles. A dozen waterfalls poured over tall rock cliffs lining the valley, while every crevice was home to a stream, emptying into crater lakes that were stepped down the slopes.
Tracy looked round, dabbing at her forehead with a lace hanky. “I’d forgotten how hot it is here,” she murmured.
Jay put her sunglasses on, and they walked down to one of the crater lakes. Two Kiint were bathing just off the shore.
Hello, Fowin,tracy said.
The Kiint raised a blunt length of tractamorphic flesh, and began to wade ashore. Greetings to you, Tracy Dean. You are Jay Hilton? Query.
“Yes, thank you very much. Hello.” Jay pushed her sunglasses up as the Kiint reached the shore and walked out onto the thick grass-analogue. It was very similar to Haile’s parents, though she thought the breathing vents were angled steeper, and the legs were flatter.
I thank you for this visit,tracy said. I wish to ask you to consider intervention.
I know this. Why else do observers visit me? Following the Gebal stabilisation, every time a new species encounters a problem I am asked to be favourable towards them.
Your enlightenment is renown among Corpus.
Corpus is a constant reminder of the Gebal, so much so that I doubt my wisdom in agreeing to help. Such a notion features heavily in my contemplation. It distracts me from higher thought.
The Gebal faced a unique situation. So do humans.
Humans face an unfortunate situation.
Nonetheless, we can reach full transcendence amity. The inverse population is negligible. Our progress towards social maturity, though admittedly slow, is constant.she gestured at jay. Please consider our potential.
Jay put on her best bright smile for the Kiint.
Your attempt to influence is crude, Tracy Dean. The child of every species is a reservoir for great potential, good and bad. I cannot judge the individual path, thus logically providing a neutral witness. However, children are inherently innocent. A positive bias.
Jay is the only human available.
Very well.the kiint turned its big violet eyes to the little girl. What do you desire above all else, Jay Hilton?
“I want my mummy back, of course. I keep telling your Corpus that.”
So you do. I grieve with you for the loss you suffer.
“But you won’t help, will you. None of your kind will. I think that’s horrible of you. Everyone keeps saying how we’re not perfect. But do you know what Father Horst told me once?”
I do not.
“It’s very simple and very smart. If you want to know if something is fair, then turn it round. So if you know us as well as you claim, and we were the ones with a thousand planets and providers and stuff, do you think we’d help you if we could?”
A healthy argument, presented with integrity. I know this is hard, but there are more issues involved than are apparent.
“Very clever,” Jay said. She folded her arms in a huff. “I know it’s possible to take possessors out of the bodies they’ve stolen. I saw it done. So why don’t you at least help us to do that? Then we could work out what to do afterwards by ourselves. That’s what you really want, isn’t it? For us to stand up for ourselves.”
The weapon your military is constructing requires no assistance from us.
“Not that. Father Horst exorcised Freya. He threw the possessing soul out of her.”
I am interested in your claim, Jay Hilton. Corpus is unaware of the incident. Could you tell me what the circumstances were?
Jay launched into a description of the events that had taken place that fateful day in a small homestead on Lalonde’s savannah. Just retelling it made her realize how much had happened since, how much she’d seen and done. It also pushed her mother further into the past, making her even more remote. She finished the story, and a tear trickled down her cheek.
Tracy’s arm immediately went round her shoulders. “Hush hush, poppet. The possessed can’t reach you here.”
“It’s not that,” Jay wailed. “I can’t remember what mummy looks like anymore. I’m trying, but I can’t.”
This at least I can remedy,fowin said. a provider globe appeared in the air beside Jay. It extruded a square of glossy paper. Jay took it cautiously. A picture of
her mother was printed on one side. Jay smiled, tears forgotten.
“That’s her passport flek image,” she said. “I remember when we went to the registry office together. How did you get this?”
It is stored in your Govcentral memory cores. We retain access.
“Thank you very much,” Jay said contritely. She looked at her mother again, warmed by the sight. “I thought you didn’t use stuff like providers on this planet, that you’d gone back to nature or something?”
Quite the opposite,fowin said. We have rejected everything but our technology. Permanent physical structures are unessential. We are free to pursue thought alone.
“Humans are never going to evolve into anything like you,” Jay said sadly. “We’d just get too bored.”
I am glad. Your appetites are unique. Treasure them. Be yourselves.
“So will you help us expelling souls?”
I believe the circumstances that allowed Father Horst his exorcism will not be repeated on many occasions.
“How come?”
As you have demonstrated this day, human children have very strong beliefs. Freya was brought up to believe in her ethnic Christian religion. When Father Horst began the ceremony of expulsion, she believed that it would work, that the soul possessing her would be cast out. At that same time, the soul experienced doubt. It had endured a form of purgatory, implying the priests of its era enjoyed some kind of fundamental truth when they discussed spiritual matters. Now it was confronted by a priest who believed he had God’s aid to perform the exorcism. Three different, extremely strong beliefs were acting upon the soul, exerting considerable pressure not only from outside, but within its own thoughts. The soul convinced itself of the validity of the ceremony. Its own faith turned against it, and it withdrew as it believed it had to.
“Then Father Horst can’t do it for entire planets?”
No.
“Okay,” Jay said reluctantly. She was right out of arguments and hope.
Your evaluation?tracy asked respectfully.
I acknowledge that the breakthrough event on Lalonde was extraneous. Even so, that cannot justify total intervention.
I see.
However. Your race’s potential should be safeguarded. You may initiate a separate origin.
“Thank you,” Tracy said weakly.
“I don’t understand,” Jay complained when they returned to the chalet. “What are you so happy about? Corpus won’t intervene.”
Tracy sat in one of the deck chairs on the veranda, for once breaking her own rule and ordering a cup of tea from the provider. “You worked an absolute miracle, poppet. Fowin’s evaluation immediately becomes Corpus policy. It’s going to allow us to start a brand-new human colony if the Confederation falls apart.”
“Why is that good? The possessed won’t spread to every colony, you said that yourself.”
“I know. But it’s knowledge, you see. Humans found out about souls before they were socially advanced enough to deal with such a revelation. Now that knowledge is going to act like a mental contaminate among every culture. It’ll split humanity into a thousand squabbling factions—that’s already started with Kulu and its idea for a core-Confederation of wealthy worlds. Recovering from such a catastrophe will take generations, and even then the resolution will be influenced by what’s gone before. What Corpus will do is begin a colony of, say, a million people from scratch. Observers will be authorized to purchase or acquire ova and sperm stored in zero-tau from medical and biological institutes all across the Confederation. The new colony’s start-up population will be gestated in exowombs and cared for by AIs during their childhood. That way, the information they’re given can be carefully edited. We can start with a high-technology society equivalent to the Confederation’s level of scientific knowledge and let it develop naturally.”
“Fowin can do all that?”
“Any Kiint can do that. Too many of them have conformist thought routines if you ask me. At least the Agarn Kiint make an effort to push the envelope. Not that it’s helped them with the Sleeping God.”
“What’s that?” Jay asked eagerly.
Tracy gave her a solemn smile. “Something an old race left behind a very long time ago. It’s created quite a dilemma for this civilization of so-called philosophy gurus. Not that there’s anything they can do to affect the situation. I think that’s what upset them the most. They’ve been the undisputed masters of this section of the universe for so long, finding something infinitely superior to themselves is rather shocking. Perhaps that’s why Fowin was so accommodating today.” She stopped as Galic appeared at the foot of the veranda’s steps.
“You did it,” he said.
“Certainly did.” Tracy grinned back.
He came up and sat in the deckchair beside her. Before long, other retired observers had dropped by to discuss the new colony. They had an enthusiasm Jay hadn’t seen in them before, making them younger. Not once that whole evening did they discuss the past.
After dark, the party moved into Tracy’s lounge and started calling up star charts and planetary surveys. Arguments about the merits of possible locations raged good-naturedly. Most wanted to see the colony in the same galaxy as the Confederation, even if it had to be on the other side of the core.
Some time around midnight, Tracy realized Jay had fallen asleep on the settee. Galic picked her up and carried her into her bedroom. She never woke as he covered her with a blanket and put Prince Dell on the pillow beside her. He tiptoed out and closed the door before returning to the debate.
Louise had fled for half a mile down the Holloway Road. It was narrow at the top end, the pavements lined by tall brick buildings with crumbling windowsills and gutters. Their ground floors were small shops and cafes whose drab and grimy fronts were firmly shuttered. Her footsteps rattled off the stern walls, an auditory beacon signalling to everyone where she was.
Further down, the road began to widen out. The buildings along this section were better maintained, with clean bricks, glossy paintwork, and more prosperous businesses. Narrow side roads branched off every hundred yards or so, consisting of attractive, compact terrace houses converted into flats. Silver birches and cherry trees in their front gardens overhung the pavements, to give them the semblance of a quiet rural town.
The slope began to flatten out, revealing at least a mile of straight deserted road ahead of her. The larger commercial premises had taken over on either side, their hologram adverts swirling over the broad pavements, forming a skittering iridescent rainbow. Traffic control informationals hung in the air above road lanes at the main junctions, flashing their colour sequences down onto the empty carbon-concrete.
Louise slowed to a halt, panting heavily from the exertion. She couldn’t see anything move behind her, but it was so dark behind her she’d hardly see any pursuers until they were almost on top of her. Travelling on under the illumination of the holograms would be a mistake.
Tollington Way was fifty yards ahead of her, a side road leading into the backstreet maze that proliferated behind every major London thoroughfare. Holding her sides against the ache of breathing, Louise jogged for a hundred yards down it, then stopped and hunched down in the deep shadows of a doorway.
Her soaking leggings were chafing her thighs, the T-shirt was disgustingly cold and clammy, and her feet felt as though they were shrivelling up. She was shuddering all over now from the cold. High above, small green lights flashed on the dome’s geodesic structure.
“Now what?” she gasped up at it. Charlie would be watching her through the sensors, seeing her infrared image constricted into a small ball. She datavised a general net access request. There was no response.
Escape and hide, Charlie had told her. Easy to say. But where? No one was going to open their door to a stranger on this night. She’d probably be shot just for knocking and asking.
A cat yowled and jumped off a nearby wall to run along the street. Louise was rolling to the ground and bringing the anti-memory weap
on smoothly to bear before the noise had even registered properly. The cat, a furry tabby, loped past, giving her a disdainful look.
She let out a brief sob as her muscles went limp. The weapons control program was still in primary mode. She took it off line as she climbed painfully to her feet, swatting dirt from her knees and the front of her waistcoat.
The cat was still visible, silhouetted against the hologram haze curtaining the end of Tollington Way, its tail swishing about arrogantly. It was obvious she was still too close to Holloway Road; her pursuers would come down it, searching every side road. Fletcher said they could sense people without even having to see them.
Louise accessed the map of central London she’d stored in a neural nanonics memory cell, and began to walk away from the light. The anti-memory weapon was slipped back into her waistcoat pocket. She couldn’t work out which was the better way of avoiding search parties; staying in one place (assuming she could find a disused room or warehouse) or constantly moving round. The odds were uncomputable, principally because she didn’t know what she was facing. An organized systematic hunt, or a couple of possessed ambling round in a disinterested fashion.
Studying the map was almost meaningless, it didn’t relate to anything. Without any goal, any destination, one street was the same as any other. Its only use was in preventing her from crossing any of the main roads.
Maybe I should just find somewhere to hide. That’s what Charlie suggested.
On an impulse she called up the Ritz’s address. The map had to switch magnification factors the hotel was so far away from her.
That was out, then. Pity, no one would think to hunt for her there.
“Andy,” she whispered in shock. The one person she knew in London. And who would never turn her away.
She retrieved his eddress and ran it through the London directory she’d loaded along with all the other junk data recommended as essential personal survival tools for the arcology. Some people didn’t include their physical address with their net code. But Andy had. He lived in Islington, somewhere on Halton Road. A tiny blue star burned on the map.
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