“Well that settles it then,” North Pacific said. “We have to close the vac-trains. It’ll mean losing an entire arcology to him; but we can save the rest.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Western Europe said. “Dexter is a problem; a novel one, granted. He’s different, and more powerful than all the others B7 has faced over the centuries. But that’s what we are here for, ultimately, to solve problems which would defeat conventional government action. We simply have to locate a weakness and use it.”
“An invisible megalomaniac as powerful as a minor god has a weakness?” North Pacific said. “Allah preserve us, I should like to hear what it is.”
“The Kavanagh girl has escaped him twice. Both times it was due to the intervention of an unknown possessed. We have an ally.”
“On Norfolk! Which has bloody vanished.”
“Nevertheless, Dexter does not command total support from the possessed. He is not invincible. And we have what should be a decisive advantage over him.”
“Which is?”
“We know about him. He knows nothing about us. That can be exploited to trap him.”
“Ah yes,” the Halo supervisor said contentedly. “Now I understand the reluctance for a personality debrief on the Kavanagh girl.”
“Well I don’t,” South America declared querulously.
“Personality debrief requires a much more invasive procedure,” Western Europe said. “At the moment Kavanagh is not aware of what has happened to her. That means we can use her ignorance to get very close to Dexter.”
“Close to . . .” South Pacific trailed off. “My God, you want to use her as a lightning conductor.”
“Exactly. At the moment we have one chance for proximity, and that’s Banneth. Unfortunately there is only a limited degree of preparation we can make with her. The possessed, and therefore presumably Dexter, can sense the emotional content of the minds around them. We have to proceed with extreme caution if he is to be lured into a termination option. If he learns someone is hunting him, we could lose several arcologies, if not more. Moving the Kavanagh girl back into the game doubles our chances of engineering an encounter with him.”
“That’s goddamn risky,” North America said.
“No, I like it,” Halo said. “It has subtlety; that’s more us than closing down the vac-trains and using SD fire to incinerate entire arcology domes.”
“Oh heaven preserve we should let our standard of style drop when the whole fucking world is about to go down the can,” South Pacific groused.
“Does anyone have a substantial objection?” Western Europe enquired.
“Your operation,” North Pacific said hotly. “Your responsibility.”
“Responsibility?” Australia chided lightly.
There were several smiles around the table as North Pacific glowered.
“Naturally I accept the consequences,” Western Europe purred volubly.
“You’re always such an arrogant little shit when you’re this age, aren’t you?” North Pacific said.
Western Europe just laughed.
* * *
The three Confederation Navy marines were polite, insistent, and resolutely uncommunicative. They escorted Joshua the entire length of Trafalgar. Which, he thought, was a hopeful sign; he was being taken away from the CNIS section. A day and a half of interviews with sour-faced CNIS investigators, cooperating like a good citizen. None of his questions answered in return. Certainly no access to a lawyer—one of the investigators had given him a filthy look when he half-jokingly asked for legal aid. Net processors wouldn’t respond to his datavises. He didn’t know where the rest of his crew was. Didn’t know what was happening to Lady Mac. And could make a pretty good guess what kind of report Monica and Samuel were concocting.
From the tube carriage station a lift took them up to a floor which was plainly officer country. A wide corridor, good carpet, discreet lighting, holograms of famous Naval events (few he recognized), intent men and women looping from office to office, none of them under the rank of senior lieutenant. Joshua was led into a reception room with two captains sitting at desks. One of them stood, and saluted the marines. “We’ll take him from here.”
“What is this?” Joshua asked. It definitely wasn’t a firing squad on the other side of the ornate double doors in front of him, and hopefully not a courtroom either.
“The First Admiral will see you now,” the captain said.
“Er,” Joshua said lamely. “Okay, then.”
The large circular office had a window overlooking the asteroid’s biosphere. It was night outside, the solartubes reduced to a misty oyster glimmer revealing little of the landscape. Big holoscreens on the walls were flashing up external sensor images of Avon and the asteroid’s spaceports. Joshua looked for Lady Mac among the docking bays, but couldn’t find her.
The captain beside him saluted. “Captain Calvert, sir.”
Joshua locked eyes with the man sitting behind the big teak desk in front of him, receiving a mildly intrigued gaze from Samual Aleksandrovich.
“So,” the First Admiral said. “Lagrange Calvert. You fly some very tight manoeuvres, Captain.”
Joshua narrowed his eyes, unsure just how much irony was being applied here. “I just do what comes naturally.”
“Indeed you do. I accessed that section of your file, also.” The First Admiral smiled at some internal joke, and waved a hand. “Please sit down, Captain.”
A blue-steel chair swelled up out of the floor in front of the desk. Alkad Mzu was sitting in the one next to it, body held rigid, staring ahead. On the other side of her, Monica and Samuel had relaxed back into their own chairs. The First Admiral introduced the demure Edenist woman beside them as Admiral Lalwani, the CNIS chief. Joshua responded with a very nervous twitch of greeting.
“I think I had better start by saying the Confederation Navy would like to thank you for your part in the Nyvan affair, and solving the Alchemist problem for us,” the First Admiral said. “I do not like to dwell on the consequences had the Capone Organization acquired it.”
“I’m not under arrest?”
“No.”
Joshua let out a hefty breath of relief. “Jesus!” He grinned at Monica, who responded with a laconic smile.
“Er, so can I go now?” he asked without much hope.
“Not quite,” Lalwani said. “You’re one of the few people who knows how the Alchemist works,” she told him.
Joshua did his best not to glance at Mzu. “A very brief description.”
“Of the principles,” Mzu said.
“And I believe you told Samuel and agent Foulkes that you would submit to internal exile in Tranquillity so no one else could obtain the information,” Lalwani said.
“Did I? No.”
Monica pantomimed deep thought. “Your exact words were: I’ll stay in Tranquillity if we survive this, but I have to know.”
“And you said you’d stay there with me,” Joshua snapped back. He scowled at her. “Ever heard of Hiroshima?”
“The first time an atomic bomb was used on Earth,” Lalwani said.
“Yeah. At the time the only real secret about an atom bomb was the fact that it was possible to build one that worked. Once it got used, that secret was out.”
“The relevance being?”
“Anyone who visits the location where we deployed Alchemist and sees the result, is going to be able to figure out those precious principles of yours. After that, it’s just a question of engineering. Besides, the possessed won’t build another. They’re not geared around that kind of action.”
“Capone’s Organization might be able to,” Monica said. “They certainly thought they could, remember? They wanted Mzu at any price, incarnate or just her soul. And who’s going to know where the Alchemist was used unless you and your crew tell them?”
“Jesus, what do you people want from me?”
“Very little,” said the First Admiral. “I think we’ve established to everyone’s s
atisfaction that you’re trustworthy.” He grinned at Joshua’s sour expression. “Despite what that may do to your reputation. So I’m just going to ask you to agree to a few ground rules. You do not discuss the Alchemist with anyone. And I mean anyone.”
“Easy enough.”
“For the duration of our current crisis you do not put yourself in a position where you will encounter the possessed.”
“I’ve already encountered them twice, I don’t intend to do it again.”
“That effectively means you will not fly anywhere outside the Sol system. Once you get home, you stay there.”
“Right.” Joshua frowned. “You want me to go to Sol?”
“Yes. You will take Dr Mzu and the Beezling survivors there. As you pointed out with your Hiroshima analogy, we cannot push the information genie back into the lamp, but we can certainly initiate damage limitation. The relevant governments have agreed that Dr Mzu can be returned to a neutral nation, where she will not communicate any details of the Alchemist to anyone. The doctor has consented to that.”
“They’ll get it eventually,” Joshua said softly. “No matter what agreements they sign, governments will try to build Alchemists.”
“No doubt,” Samual Aleksandrovich said. “But such problems are for the future. And that is going to be a very different place to today, is it not, Captain?”
“If we solve today, then, yeah. It’ll be different. Even today is different than yesterday.”
“So. Lagrange Calvert has become a philosopher?”
“Haven’t we all, knowing what we do now?”
The First Admiral nodded reluctantly. “Perhaps it’s not such a bad thing. Somebody has to find a solution. The more there are of us searching, the quicker it will be revealed.”
“That’s a lot of faith you have there, Admiral.”
“Of course. If I didn’t have faith in the human race, I would have no right to sit in this chair.”
Joshua gave him a strong look. The First Admiral wasn’t quite what he’d envisaged, the gung-ho military archetype. That made him more confident for the future. Slightly. “Okay, so where do you want me to take the doc in the Sol system, exactly?”
Samual Aleksandrovich smiled broadly. “Ah yes, this is one piece of news I shall enjoy imparting.”
* * *
Friend Jay, please cry not.
Haile’s voice was no stronger than the memory of a dream. Jay had closed up her mind as tight as her eyelids. She just lay on the floor, all curled up, sobbing at . . . everything. Ever since that terrible day on Lalonde when the Ivets went mad, she and Mummy had been torn further and further apart. First the cramped house on the savannah. Then Tranquillity, where she’d heard rumours of the possessed taking Lalonde out of the universe—even though the paediatric ward staff had been careful about allowing the refugee kids access to any news. Now this, flying like an angel to another galaxy. Where she’d never get back from. And she’d never see Mummy ever again. Everyone she knew was either dead, or about to be possessed. She wailed louder, so much it hurt her throat.
The back of her head was full of warm whispers, pushing to be let in.
Jay, please restrain yourself.
She is developing cyclic trauma psychosis.
We should impose a thalamic regulator routine.
Humans respond better to chemical suppressers.
Certainty?
Ambiguous context.
Referral to Corpus.
Tractamorphic flesh was slithering round her, rubbing gently. She shook at the touch of it.
Then there was a sharp regular clicking sound, tac tac tac, like heels on the cool hard floor. Human heels.
“What in seven heavens’ name do you lot think you’re doing?” a woman’s voice asked sharply. “Give the poor dear some air, for goodness sake. Come on, get back. Right back. Move out the way.” There followed the distinctive sound of a human hand being slapped against a Kiint hide.
Jay stopped crying.
“Move! You too, you little terror.”
That causes painfulness, Haile protested.
“Then learn to move quicker.”
Jay smeared some of the tears from her eyes, and peered up just in time to see someone’s finger and thumb pinching the crater ridge of skin around Haile’s ear, hauling her aside. The baby Kiint’s legs were getting all twisted round as she skittled hurriedly out of the way.
The owner of the hand smiled down at Jay. “Well well, sweetie, haven’t you just caused a stir? And whatever are all these tears for? I suppose you had a bit of shock when they jumped you here. Don’t blame you. That stupid leaping through the darkness stunt used to give me the chronic heebie-jeebies every time. I’ll take a Model-T over that any day. Now there was a really gracious method of transport. Would you like a hanky, wipe your face a bit?”
“Uh,” Jay said. She’d never seen a woman quite so old before; her brown Mediterranean skin was deeply wrinkled, and her back curved slightly, giving her shoulders a permanent hunch. The dress she wore had come straight out from a history text, lemon-yellow cotton printed with tiny white flowers, complemented by a wide belt and lace collar and cuffs. Thin snow-white hair had been permed into a neat beret; and a double loop of large pearls round her neck chittered softly with every movement. It was as if she’d turned age into a statement of pride. But her green eyes were vividly alert.
A frilly lace handkerchief was pulled from her sleeve, and proffered to Jay.
“Thank you,” Jay gulped. She took the hanky, and blew into it heavily. The huge adult Kiint had all backed off, standing several paces behind the small woman, keeping close together in a mutual support group. Haile was pressed against Lieria, who had formshifted a tractamorphic arm to stroke her daughter soothingly.
“So now, sweetie, why don’t you start by telling me your name.”
“Jay Hilton.”
“Jay.” The woman’s jowls bobbled, as if she was sucking on a particularly hard mint. “That’s nice. Well, Jay, I’m Tracy Dean.”
“Hello. Um, you are real, aren’t you?”
Tracy laughed. “Oh yes, sweetie, I’m genuine flesh and blood, all right. And before you ask why I’m here, this is my home now. But we’ll save the explanations until tomorrow. Because they’re very long and complicated, and you’re tired and upset. You need to get some sleep now.”
“I don’t want to sleep,” Jay stammered. “Everybody in Tranquillity’s dead, and I’m here. And I want Mummy. And she’s gone.”
“Oh, Jay, no, sweetie.” Tracy knelt beside the little girl, and hugged her tight. Jay was sniffling again, ready to burst into tears. “Nobody’s dead. Tranquillity swallowed away clean before any of the combat wasps reached it. These silly oafs got it all wrong and panicked. Aren’t they stupid?”
“Tranquillity’s alive?”
“Yes.”
“And Ione, and Father Horst, and everybody?”
“Yes, all safe and sound. Tranquillity is orbiting Jupiter right this minute. That surprised everybody, let me tell you.”
“But . . . how did it do that?”
“We’re not quite sure yet, but it must have an awful lot of energy patterning cells tucked away somewhere inside it.” She gave Jay a sly grin, and winked. “Tricky people, those Saldanas. And very clever with it, thankfully.”
Jay managed an experimental smile.
“That’s better. Now, let’s see about finding you that bed for the night.” Tracy rose to her feet, holding Jay’s hand.
Jay used her free hand to wipe the handkerchief across her face as she scrambled to her feet. “Oh right.” Actually, she thought that talk of explanations sounded quite fascinating now. There was so much about this place she wanted to know. It would be worth staying awake for.
You now have betterness, query? Haile asked anxiously.
Jay nodded enthusiastically at her friend. “Much better.”
That is good.
I will assume complete Jay Hilton guardian responsib
ility now.
Jay cocked her head to give Tracy Dean a sideways look. How could she use the Kiint mental voice?
Confirm, Nang said. The words Jay could hear in her head speeded up then, becoming a half-imagined birdsong, but suffused with feeling.
We will venture wide together, Haile said. See new things. There is muchness here to see.
“Tomorrow, maybe,” Tracy said. “We have to get Jay settled in here first.”
Jay shrugged at her friend.
“Now then, Jay, we’re going to jump out of here. It’ll be the same as before, but this time you know it’s happening, and I’ll be with you the whole time. All right?”
“Couldn’t we just walk, or use a groundcar, or something?”
Tracy smiled sympathetically. “Not really, sweetie.” She pointed up at the planets arching over the dark sky. “My home is on one of those.”
“Oh. But I will be seeing Haile while I’m here, won’t I?” Jay raised her hand and waved at her friend. Haile formshifted the tip on one of her tractamorphic arms into a human hand, and wriggled the fingers.
We will build the castles of sand again.
“Close your eyes,” Tracy said. “It’s easier that way.” Her arm went round Jay’s shoulder. “Are you ready?”
This time it wasn’t so bad. There was that quick breeze ruffling her nightie again, and despite having her eyes shut her stomach was telling her very urgently that she was falling again. A squeak crept out of her lips in spite of her best efforts.
“It’s all right sweetie, we’re here now. You can open your eyes again.”
The breeze had vanished, its departure signalling a whole symphony of fresh sound. Hot sunlight tingled her skin; when she breathed in she could taste salt.
Jay opened her eyes. There was a beach in front of her, one which made the little cove on Tranquillity seem quite pallid by comparison. The powder-fine sand was snow-white, stretching out on either side of her for as far as she could see. Wonderfully clear turquoise water lapped against it, languid waves rolling in from a reef several hundred metres out. A beautiful three-masted yacht of some golden wood was anchored half-way between the shore and the reef, undeniably human in design.
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