‘Enact privacy protocol,’ Siska said. Lodup was pretty sure the order was given out loud for his benefit. ‘They cannot hear you now,’ Siska said to Lodup, referring to the C&C staff lying on their couches.
‘Well, I’ll just have to take your word for it, won’t I?’ Lodup said acidly.
‘Do you want Siraja present?’ Siska asked.
‘Does it make any difference what I want?’
‘Not really.’
‘Then he can stay, but I’d rather he kept quiet.’
The look of hurt on Siraja’s draconic features was practically comical.
‘Who’s in charge?’ Lodup demanded.
‘As far as you’re concerned, I am,’ Siska said.
‘And as far as you’re concerned?’
Siska’s expression hadn’t really changed but Lodup felt as if the temperature had dropped in the room. Actually, he wouldn’t put it past them to try such a theatrical move.
‘We are making a special effort with you, Mr Satakano, but that only extends so far. I don’t like you coming in here and barking at me.’
Lodup stared at her incredulously. ‘I just got fucking slashed!’ he shouted at her. Her face hardened, but she didn’t say anything. Lodup glanced over at Yaroslav, but the Russian hadn’t moved. ‘Look, you’re going to modify my memory anyway, aren’t you? So what difference does it make if you tell me?’
‘What do you wish to know?’ Siska asked coldly. Today her long braided ponytail had been arranged into a loop. It looked like a hangman’s knot to Lodup.
‘Why are you making a special effort with me? Why am I different? Why was Hideo, why Sal? What’s wrong with the people here?’
‘They’re clones,’ Siska said evenly.
It took a moment for what she’d said to sink in. Lodup’s first instinct was to accuse her of bullshit, but it made sense. With the level of technology they had, why wouldn’t they be able to clone?
‘We need people with certain skill sets. If they started disappearing all over the world, people would notice. Cloning made them easier to modify—’
‘And easier to control?’ Lodup suggested. Yaroslav actually laughed. It explained why people he’d known for years had barely acknowledged him. ‘Am I a clone?’
‘No,’ Siska said. ‘Neither was Hideo, which was why we thought he would be good company for you.’
Lodup laughed bitterly. ‘And Sal?’
‘She was a clone.’
‘What was she supposed to be, a sex toy?’
Siska sighed. ‘We fully reinitiated her personality and left you to it.’
Then something occurred to Lodup. ‘So Hideo was a survivor from a Japanese U-boat, right?’
‘Yes. He’d seen too much, his rescue was arguably an oversight, we could have wiped his memories. But he elected to stay, and he was very good at his job.’
‘Which explains why he wasn’t a clone, and I’m guessing you’re not, either,’ he said to Siska. He pointed a thumb at Yaroslav. ‘He’s not. Deane?’ Siska said nothing. ‘So why aren’t I a clone?’
‘You were,’ Siska told him. ‘There was an accident.’
‘You went thatch,’ Yaroslav said.
Lodup turned to stare angrily at the Russian. ‘You mean this place has driven me insane before?’ he demanded.
‘You killed five people, and nearly killed one of my team,’ Yaroslav told him, his strong Russian accent devoid of emotion. ‘I put you down myself.’
Lodup could not imagine killing anyone, let alone with the brutality he’d seen evident in Hideo and the others who had gone thatch during his short time here.
‘So you thought you’d get the real me down here? Why not just clone me again?’ he asked, mostly to avoid thinking about his alternative self as a murderer.
‘You’re one of the best salvage operators in the business. We required your skills. It takes time to bring a clone to maturity,’ Siska told him.
‘So you’re in a hurry?’
Neither Yaroslav nor Siska said anything.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘We told you, we’re harvesting—’ Siska told him.
‘Alien technology. What are these things? And don’t just skate over the subject this time. Like I said, you’ll wipe my memory anyway, so there’s no reason not to tell me.’
‘Very well,’ Siska replied. ‘They are the source of all life on this planet.’
Lodup stared at her and then laughed. ‘So Darwin was wrong – there is an intelligent creator after all?’ he finally managed. He could accept the city, the technology, though he wondered how much of that was due to the modifications they’d made to his brain. This was stretching credulity just a little too far.
‘No, Darwin was right about most of it. Some of it was engineered to happen. Certain organisms, like humans, were given a hand, but the rest of it evolved naturally, slowly responding to the stimulus of the environment after its initial creation. We’re not talking about a god, though their biotechnology was such that it’s easy to make that mistake. What we’re talking about is bioengineering on a massive scale.’
‘Bullshit,’ Lodup told her.
‘Why would I lie?’ Siska asked. ‘You asked for the truth. Do you know what panspermia is?’ Lodup shook his head. ‘It’s the theory that life is distributed through the universe via spores. What you did today was surgery – you cut an extremophile seed-pod from that building.’
‘Where did they come from?’ Lodup asked, still trying desperately to grasp what he’d just been told.
‘We don’t know, but we suspect they were also bioengineered.’ There was a degree of cruel relish in her voice.
‘By what?’ Lodup asked, appalled.
‘We don’t know. Maybe god. Tell me, now that you know, do you feel any better?’
Lodup shook his head. ‘Everything we know—’
‘Is a smoke-screen based on partial truths propagated by the Circle.’
‘This is monstrous.’
‘We operated on your brain so you would be capable of dealing with what you see and experience here. We purposefully engineer people so they can cope, and even then it doesn’t always work. What do you think the knowledge of this place would do to humanity?’ Siska demanded angrily. She was leaning on the hardwood of the elliptical table.
Lodup thought about it. If the knowledge didn’t drive humanity itself mad, there would certainly be attempts to try and take control of the Kanamwayso.
‘What happened here?’ Lodup asked, for something to say, for a moment’s respite.
‘We don’t know,’ Siska said, guardedly.
‘They were attacked,’ Yaroslav said.
‘By what?’ Lodup asked. He did not wish to think too much about what could attack such creatures and win.
‘We don’t know that for sure,’ Siska said irritably, glaring at Yaroslav. ‘All we know is that there was some kind of disaster.’
‘And it killed them?’ Lodup asked. Neither Yaroslav nor Siska said anything. ‘They’re dead, aren’t they?’
Siska looked down and refused to meet Lodup’s demanding glare. ‘We cannot find any evidence to suggest that they are anything other than dead.’
‘But?’ Lodup said. Siska shook her head angrily. ‘Fucking but!’
‘Some here believe they are in contact with the sleeping minds of the Seeders.’ It was Siraja who spoke. ‘And I know you are thinking of your dreams, Mr Satakano, but working in the city takes its psychological toll. They are probably nothing more than dreams.’
‘Probably?’ Lodup repeated. Nobody said anything. ‘That’s what the cults are about, isn’t it?’ Silence. ‘So if they’re seed-pods, what are you doing to them in the sheds? What are those egg-shaped things? Nano-tech?’
Siska opened her mouth to answer.
&n
bsp; ‘I’m afraid that will have to be enough,’ Siraja said quietly.
‘Shut the fuck up, lizard,’ Lodup snapped, and then to Siska: ‘Answer my question.’
Siska looked up at him. ‘And I think that’s about as much insubordination as I will tolerate today. I have indulged you because of the incident—’
‘Incident? Incident! You mean—’ Lodup started angrily.
‘That’s enough.’ Siska’s quiet tone was enough to silence Lodup. ‘Do you wish to leave?’
‘No,’ Lodup said after some thought, though the answer surprised him. ‘But I wonder if that’s because you’ve tampered with my brain. One final question – the cult activity, the dreams, people going thatch. It’s getting worse, isn’t it?’
Nobody answered. Lodup just nodded, then turned on his heel and walked out of C&C.
Siska waited until the door closed.
‘Well?’ she asked.
‘I agree with your assessment,’ Siraja said. ‘I don’t believe he is any greater a risk than he was before. There’s nothing he can do with what he knows. The Brass City already know a great deal more than what we have just told Mr Satakano.’
‘Besides, it will all be irrelevant soon,’ Yaroslav said.
26
A Long Time After the Loss
The Alchemist looked up at the psychopath, the insect, the feline woman and the human natural. He wanted to make distressed clicking noises and swim in ever-decreasing circles, but he didn’t have the physiology for it. The tears that sprang from his eyes were simply an autonomic response.
‘I don’t suppose you have a cetacean body and a large pool on board, do you?’ he asked through the tears. Scab shook his head.
‘We could probably configure some kind of pool—’ Vic started, but Scab cut him off with a look.
‘What do you want a dolphin’s body for?’ the female human nat asked. A device on a choker around her throat was translating her voice. Vic had fabricated it for her. She also had an ear crystal that translated what she heard into common. The Alchemist looked at her like she was an idiot.
‘He is one,’ Vic said quietly.
‘I was just thinking how much he resembled a large fish-like mammal,’ the nat muttered. Her own words in pre-Loss were getting mixed up with the louder transmissions from the translator. ‘Is he part of the plan to sell me into slavery?’ She was wearing what looked like multiple layers of lace. She was unarmed and moved so sluggishly compared to Scab, Vic and the feline woman that she was obviously unaugmented.
‘He’s a Church bridge tech, isn’t he?’ the feline asked.
‘What do you fucking want from me?’ the dolphin-downloaded-into-human-form demanded. He had decided to remain lying on the cold metal floor of the ship’s cargo bay, close to the airlock. He had always considered himself a coward, but he was hoping for an opportunity to be ejected out of the airlock, even if it was into the strange vacuum of Red Space.
‘Hi, I’m Talia,’ the human woman said pettishly. ‘You’ll probably be vivisecting me later, but it’s so nice to meet another kidnap victim.’ She stepped forward, bent down and offered the Alchemist her hand. He looked at it as if it was covered in excrement. ‘No, that’s not right at all. What you do is take the hand, shake it and introduce yourself.’
‘I don’t want to touch you,’ he said, though he remembered the human greeting convention from his time on Suburbia.
Talia withdrew the hand and straightened up. ‘Everybody’s so fucking rude and kidnappy,’ she groused. ‘Can you manage a name?’
‘He’s the Alchemist,’ Vic said, trying to be helpful.
‘Really? He doesn’t have a proper name like John, or Steve, or Scab?’ she asked sarcastically.
‘Look, my name’s a series of clicks and … Why am I here?’
‘Did you like where you were?’ the feline woman asked. As far as he could make out, her expression was one of curiosity, though not necessarily with regard to the question she had just asked.
‘Have you any idea what you fucking did to me?’ he demanded, turning on Scab.
‘I got paid for apprehending you.’
‘You fucking shot me!’
‘I thought you were a talking insect,’ Scab told him, as if that explained everything.
Talia looked up at Vic. The ’sect had one of his upper hands pressed against his forehead in a very human gesture.
‘It’s kind of difficult to explain,’ Vic said.
A pause.
‘She is the key to bridge tech,’ Scab finally said.
‘Yaaay me!’ Talia mock-cheered.
The Alchemist stared at Scab, then at Talia, and then back at Scab. Scab lit a cigarette and leaned against the bulkhead of the cargo bay.
‘You don’t look all that surprised,’ the feline said.
‘Do have you any idea what that place was like? The constant repetitive inanity of it all? Being locked in this ungainly body, forced to look on as, day after day, I helped condition myself into an utterly pointless existence? They take everything from you. Your cell is one hundred and eighty pounds of sweating, stinking flesh and desperation. They teach you that you are nothing, meaningless, that your will is irrelevant.’
Scab sighed audibly. ‘So?’ he asked.
‘I’d like to go back.’
‘Do you think that’s likely?’ Scab asked.
‘They took everything. Just how do you propose to get me to cooperate? I’m ready to die. I’ve lived in the torture immersion—’
‘You’ll do as you’re told. Everybody does,’ Scab said quietly. Talia glared at him and Vic looked down. The feline’s expression was unreadable. Scab shrugged himself off the bulkhead and headed towards the ramp leading out of the cargo bay. Talia looked at him hopefully but he ignored her. She missed the contemptuous glance the feline gave her. Scab’s P-sat appeared out of the gloom and fell in behind him.
‘Make life easy on yourself,’ the feline said.
‘I think I’m going to call him Steve. Steve the dolphin,’ Talia said mock-cheerfully.
‘Fuck you,’ the Alchemist muttered.
‘This is Elodie Negrinotti,’ Vic told the dolphin. ‘I’m afraid you’ll be getting to know each other very intimately.’
‘Actually, I’ll be getting to know him very intimately,’ the feline said.
The Alchemist, Steve, didn’t like the way she said it one bit.
Vic and a somewhat peevish Talia helped the newly christened ‘Steve’ settle in. They assembled clothes and food. They instructed the quantum dots – which acted like programmable atoms – at the heart of the smart matter from which the converted yacht had been grown to create a room for Scab’s latest prisoner. They gave him a smart sedative designed to fool human physiology into actually falling asleep, rather than just a state of sedation. When he finally awoke, Vic administered the dolphin a cocktail of drugs at ‘Steve’s’ request, and with Scab’s permission. Those enabled him to keep emotions like fear, anger and an overwhelming hatred of Scab down to a manageable level.
Summoned by Scab, they assembled in the Basilisk II’s lounge. The spacious yacht was reconfiguring the room into a large open-plan, split-level area with lots of low, comfortable, immaculately white sofas. Vic still had problems getting them to conform to his insectile physiology, despite ’facing custom specs to the ship’s neutered AI. He’d been told this was because the programmers of assembly templates for luxury goods never envisaged selling them to the utilitarian ’sects. Vic, however, suspected that Scab played with the furniture’s programming just to mess with him.
‘I see where this is going. She’s got something to do with bridge tech, I used to be a bridge technician for the Church, but it’s just not that simple,’ Steve told them when they were all assembled. He was seated at a table that had grown out of the floor. It was rather grandio
se, bathed in a blue glow from the large arched window formed from parts of the smart-metal hull turned transparent. The window looked out onto Red Space, but a filter in the smart matter turned the red light blue. Steve was tucking into a mock-lobster the assembler had managed to create. He was using smart utensils, as he had to relearn how to use his bipedal form now that his core personality was dominant in the human body. He took a sip from a large glass of champagne the yacht had also assembled. ‘For a start, they’re just going to—’
‘Hunt us down?’ Vic suggested as he tried to make himself comfortable on the constantly reconfiguring sofa. ‘Kill us? Drop us into time-contracted torture immersions for all eternity? Wow, it hadn’t occurred to any of us that having access to the most valuable secret in Known Space would cause us any inconvenience whatsoever.’
‘It won’t just be the—’
‘Church?’ Vic finished. ‘Really? You think the Consortium and the Monarchist systems might be interested, too, put all sorts of resources onto us, like, oh, I don’t know, the fucking Elite that chased you out of Suburbia? Not to mention a massive price on our heads.’
Steve chuckled at this last.
‘He goes on about this a lot,’ Scab said. Everyone turned to look at the human, unsure if he was joking or not. He had an expression of mild consternation on his made-up, normally emotionless face. He was half-slouched, half-lying in his shirtsleeves on one of the sofas and basking in the blue glow. Oddly, though, he was still wearing his hat.
‘Shame,’ Steve said. For someone with the psychological profile of an abject coward, he appeared to have little trouble standing up to Scab.
‘Just out of interest, does anyone have any idea what this big secret is?’ Talia demanded. She was curled up on the sofa with her now nearly omnipresent large glass of red wine and a burning inhalable narcotic.
‘You do,’ Scab said quietly. ‘There’s a reason you were hooked up to the Seeder ship.’
Steve turned to look at Talia, appalled.
‘And so does he,’ Elodie said, nodding at the dolphin in human form.
‘But I can’t help you!’ Steve looked like he was close to tears again. It didn’t appear to be stopping him digging into his lobster, however. Vic didn’t like watching him eat it. The crustacean was just a little too close to insect for his taste. ‘Do you think after you guys turned me over to the Consortium they didn’t try and break my conditioning? Do you know what kind of resources they threw at me?’ He stood up and screamed at Scab: ‘Have you any idea how they fucking tortured me until, out of pure fucking frustration, they threw me in that horrible place instead of just killing me?’
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