Chaos Space (Sentients of Orion)

by Marianne de Pierres

  ‘To become a... a tyro?’ Josef stammered. His eyes widened, and surprise dropped some of the lines from his face.

  She saw then that he could be perceived as handsome by some. Not in the pure, aesthetic way of Thales the scholar, but his face displayed a damaged kind of strength, an unkempt confidence.

  ‘For what damn reason would you want that?’

  And Mira knew then, before she spoke, what it was that Marchella had wanted of her. ‘I must unbind our women, Mr Rasterovich.’

  ‘You don’t need the Entity for that—you just need a revolution.’

  ‘There are things about us—our culture—that you don’t understand.’ She heard the formality slipping from her voice and no longer cared. ‘I need to be greater... better than I am... to bring them that change. Impotence is cruel. I will not let it hold me.’

  ‘You’re telling me that you want to save your culture, and then you want to change it?’ Josef slapped his thighs and laughed. ‘Well, there’s a god complex if I’ve ever heard one.’

  Mira felt the twist of bitter anger; a man such as this could never comprehend oppression. She wanted to walk away from him and never see his face again.

  ‘Baronessa?’ It was Thales Berniere, pale and shaking, standing beside her.

  ‘Msr Berniere? Please...’ She indicated the spare seat.

  He sank into it automatically, rubbing his arm in a distracted manner.

  Mira leaned towards him. ‘You are distressed,’ she said softly.

  The scholar looked then as if he might weep, and her heart constricted. Concern for him vanquished her anger at the God-Discoverer.

  ‘I-I am tired and somewhat dislocated, that is all,’ Thales said. But his young face had a grim set to it which stole the soft curve from his lips and the glow from his skin. Something had shaken him badly.

  Mira wanted to press him further but the Lamin was back with three soldiers. ‘Excuse me, Baronessa, but Commander Farr requires you all to return to his marquee.’

  Thales reddened and stood. ‘I am not interested in meetings. I will return to the ship.’

  The Lamin made no attempt to stop him and Mira watched him disappear into the crowd. What had happened between him and Lasper Farr?

  * * *

  Inside the marquee Farr was pouring amber wine into long bulb-ended glasses. ‘Sit, please,’ he instructed.

  Mira perched on the edge of one of the armchairs while Josef Rasterovich lounged across an entire couch.

  Bethany chose to lean against a high-backed lacquered stool.

  Farr appeared almost convivial as he handed them each a glass.

  Josef Rasterovich drank with one prolonged swallow and held the empty glass toward Farr.

  The Commander ignored him, sipping his own drink delicately. ‘I have had time to consider your situations. Baronessa Fedor, I may be prepared to assist in the reinstating of the Cipriano Clan on your world. And, Bethany, in doing that I could put some resources into finding Jess.’

  Bethany sagged against the stool with relief but Mira kept her back straight, apprehensive of Farr’s motives. What does he want in return?

  ‘In order for me to do that, I would need something from you,’ Farr went on.

  ‘Lasper?’ demanded Bethany in a shrill voice.

  ‘I want you to accompany your biozoon to Rho Junction in the Saiph system, where Thales Berniere will collect something for me. You will then return here. When this is done, I will undertake to restore control to the rightful owners of Araldis.’

  ‘Saiph is part of Extropy space,’ said Rasterovich. He’d let his empty glass fall to the floor and was eyeing it angrily, as if he might crush it underfoot.

  His demeanour was not lost on Lasper Farr. ‘But Rho Junction is not. That is where you come into it, Mr Rasterovich. Your reputation as God-Discoverer can gain you entrance and acceptance anywhere. I’m sure The Alliance of Free Thinkers on Rho Junction would be entranced by your God stories. I’ve heard they are entertaining.’

  Rasterovich frowned. ‘Why would I want to do that? Too many damn Extros around Rho Junction for my liking. The Entity shoves a whole fist up their basic belief system. Don’t you think they might want to do the same to me for finding it?’

  ‘Not before they have examined you from the inside out,’ said Farr, smiling. ‘Which would give Msr Berniere plenty of time to complete his errand.’

  Rasterovich clenched his fists. Mira saw him struggling to control his anger; to appear as calm as Farr. ‘And which of your pet delusions tells you I’d be stupid enough to make that kind of sacrifice?’

  ‘But Mr Rasterovich, the Baronessa needs your help.’

  Josef seemed winded by that.

  ‘But this will take too long, Lasper. Jess’s life is at stake while you bargain,’ protested Bethany.

  ‘Jess’s life is at stake because you abandoned her for your lover. No other reason. As for what you call my “bargaining”—it is what will ensure the safety of our futures,’ said Farr. ‘I can’t pull together a force of this nature without some planning and preparation. Araldis is an OLOSS world. This will have to be managed with subtlety.’

  Josef Rasterovich cleared his throat. ‘I ain’t convinced, Farr. And even if I was I sure ain’t available to act in your version of the future.’ He got up off the couch and walked towards the marquee’s entrance.

  Farr flicked a glance at the soldiers and they stepped directly in front of Rasterovich.

  ‘Even if I can tell you the whereabouts of Tekton the archiTect and bestow a ship upon you?’ asked Farr. ‘Bethany tells me you are in need of one.’

  Josef turned and walked back to the couch, grasping its back edge. ‘I know where to find Tekton. He is on Belle-Monde. And yes, I need a ship, but only if I can cut through the strings that come with it.’

  ‘Tekton was on Belle-Monde,’ corrected Farr. ‘You followed him to Dowl some time ago and due to your imprudence wound up in the detention facility with my foolish sister. Tekton returned to the study station, but has since moved on.’

  ‘Big deal! I can find him myself,’ Rasterovich said coolly.

  Mira’s heart fluttered. She could not help but admire Josef’s stubbornness in the face of Farr’s threats and bribes.

  ‘Can you? Your ship has been stolen. On board was your entire resource network. You have access to money but information takes time to acquire. Even if you locate Tekton then you may well pass him in transit. I foresee many possible frustrations for you. However, if you assist the Baronessa and Berniere with this errand then I can provide you with resources to find Tekton, and my blessings.’

  ‘Your blessings?’ Rasterovich gave a strident laugh that was almost a shout.

  Mira held her breath, unsure what he would do next.

  But Lasper Farr had settled back in his chair. ‘No need for dramatics, God-Discoverer. My proposal is an arrangement for mutual benefit. Simple—and elegant...’

  JO-JO RASTEROVICH

  Jo-Jo wanted to murder Carnage Farr right then; strangle the hero of the Stain Wars until his tongue protruded and his eyelids fell still in death.

  From the moment Jo-Jo’s feet had touched this rotating scrap heap he’d felt uneasy. Now, staring across at Farr, he knew that he’d give a testicle to be back on Jandowae station.

  Right now he wanted to stuff his fist so far down Farr’s throat that he could squeeze the man’s balls with his fingers.

  Even more compelling, though, was his desire to agree to Farr’s demands. Not because of Carnage’s promise to find Tekton, or because he was frightened of the lunatic, but because Mira Fedor needed protection.

  How fucking ridiculous! He’d met her only a few hours ago.

  The intensity of his emotion sent Jo-Jo’s mind sliding apart like two pieces of slippery sliced fruit. Not sure what else to do, he listened to the discussion that started up between his inner voices.

  The loudmouth of the two had a plan: Pretend to go along with Farr’s wishes and then ba
il out at the first res station. Catch a ride to Belle-Monde and track down Tekton. It’s the logical course to take and the safest. Carnage Farr is insane and best avoided—

  No! cried the other voice. You will never see her again.

  Jo-Jo’s mouth opened and words came out. ‘Prove that you can help me locate Tekton and you’ve got a deal.’

  Lasper Farr drained his drink and leaned forward. ‘I’m not in the habit of proving myself to anyone, Mr Rasterovich. But for the sake of expediency I will make an exception.’ He took a small tubal inhaler from his pocket. ‘Breathe deeply.’

  Jo-Jo took the object and clipped the tube to the skin that separated his nostrils. He squeezed one end and the inhaler discharged its contents into his nose.

  His transition into a virtual space was sharp: instantaneous, in fact. Farr was in the same chair but the marquee had disappeared, leaving a darkened space. Jo-Jo’s viewpoint had also altered. He was alongside Farr instead of opposite him.

  A sprinkle of lights began to grow in the darkness around them: a beautiful intricate patterning of colours that pulsed and flickered and wound around each other as if connected by an infinite number of lines.

  As Jo-Jo studied the delicate knots and loops he noticed tiny colourful explosions occurring among them: miniature supernovas. Some became subsumed by what was already there; others thinned and extruded into new webs.

  ‘A small window will open in the corner of your vision. It will isolate one of the tiny eruptions you can see. Concentrate on it for a few seconds.’

  Jo-Jo did as Farr instructed. He felt himself drawn forward towards the eruption which grew in magnitude until the brightness became a pure white brilliance that blinded him. His eyes burned and mucus trickled down onto his upper lip. He wanted to wipe it but he didn’t dare move.

  The whiteness suddenly resolved into shapes that he recognised. A ship’s bridge.

  Salacious?

  Jo-Jo knew his ship immediately—but not the ‘esque with the cold blank stare who lounged on the captain’s platform. Then it faded. More images followed in a sequence that made no sense to him: a water-planet panorama, small aqua-creatures, one of the same creatures being dissected, and, finally, night combat in a jungle. Three shadowy figures crawling on their bellies—a balol and two humanesques—leaving mines for their enemy to trip. There was something familiar about them all...

  ‘Closer.’ He spoke the word without thinking.

  The virtual progression threw him forward again.

  Suddenly he was lying on the jungle floor, his fingers deep in slimy moss, his foot tangled in vines. The air was so damp that he could barely breathe. An insect crawled between his shoulder blades, biting him.

  The figures on either side of him were panting hard, glancing back over their shoulders. Their way forward was lit by the dim glow-bands across their foreheads, illuminating thick tree roots underpinned by leaf-rotted soil.

  He turned one way. Saw a male face streaked in ‘flage and filth.

  ‘Randall? How many left? the male asked.

  Jo-Jo turned the other way.

  ‘Three fully charged.’ This face was female. Rast Randall.

  ‘I’ll save one for us, Capo,’ Rast added grimly.

  Jo-Jo turned back.

  The male ‘esque gave a cold stare that froze Jo-Jo. ‘Save it for yourself Rast,’ he said. I ain’t dyin’ out here for no ginks.’

  Randall laughed. ‘Don’t tell her that.’ She jerked her head.

  Jo-Jo twisted, looking around again. WhoP There. Behind them. A balol soldier. A female.

  Ilke? From Dowl.

  There was a small popping noise in front of them.

  ‘Shit! Grenade!’ barked Rast. She rolled frantically towards a gully. The man scrambled to his knees and flung himself behind a tree.

  Jo-Jo’s heart pounded. He didn’t know which way to move. Too slow! I’m too slow—

  ‘End.’

  Farr’s sharp command brought Jo-Jo back to his chair. The light web had vanished. Only Farr and he occupied the darkness.

  Jo-Jo tried to quieten his heartbeat while he sorted realities. The balol was like, the one he’d been dallying with when Salacious had called about intruders. What was like doing in an adventure sim with Rast Randall? And the male—who was he?

  ‘No. Not a simulation, Mr Rasterovich. Random recordings. What you have just witnessed is my own personal soothsayer. I procure records of events and my Organic analyses them, looking for patterns.’

  ‘Record?’

  ‘Eges—eyes. I have them all over Orion. The last event, the one you chose to look more closely at, was a record from combat implants used during the Stain Wars.’ If I can’t observe it with my own eges, I buy it or appropriate it from another source. In extreme cases

  I will rebuild visual scenes from audio records or eyewitness accounts.’

  ‘Re-enactments?’

  ‘Re-animation is a better description, using DNA behavioural projections, audio patterning, semantic decoders and other classifiers.’

  ‘What for? You trying to predict the future?’

  Farr’s expression remained neutral. ‘It could be perceived as that. Many of the patterns are only established in retrospect. The tiny explosions you witnessed are signals that a link has been established. Determining where to look for what you need to know, however, is the key...’

  Jo-Jo’s heartbeat speeded up again. Not in fear this time but in awe. ‘You’ve got a Dynamic System device.’

  ‘Device is such a carnival word and this is something far more sophisticated, God-Discoverer. Prediction is merely one of its uses.’

  ‘What did those images mean? The ones I saw.’

  ‘I’m honouring you with proof that I can find the archiTect for you, Mr Rasterovich, by showing you who has taken your ship.’

  ‘Randall?’

  ‘No. But Rast has known them. In time you will be able to determine the nature of the connection for yourself. Now, you are of course welcome to leave, Mr Rasterovich, although I do believe your personal Health Watch has expired. You really should be careful what you inhale in strange places...’

  The darkness turned grainy and then fell away completely. Jo-Jo was back in the marquee—on the floor of the marquee, to be precise—face down.

  Acutely aware of the Baronessa, and of Farr’s last words, he flicked the inhaler away from his nose. A small auto-cleaner scurried over and gobbled it up. It took all his self-control not to smash it with his fist.

  ‘Josef?’ said Beth in a reproving tone. ‘You’ve been drooling.’

  Summoning the remnants of some dignity, Jo-Jo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and climbed to his feet.

  MIRA

  ‘What is happening to them?’

  Both Lasper Farr and Josef Rasterovich had fallen silent. Josef’s eyes were closed but Lasper Farr maintained an eerie half-open-lidded look.

  ‘The inhaler is full of VR nanites. Lasper is showing Josef something within his virtual world. I imagine it’s like the way you communicate with your biozoon,’ said Bethany.

  Mira looked at the men’s slack mouths and twitching fingers. ‘I would hope I do not look like that.’

  Bethany smiled, her face relaxing into a more natural expression. ‘I’m sure you don’t.’

  Mira stared down at the floor. They had been thrown together and now, suddenly without a purpose, the moment became awkward.

  Bethany covered it with a question. ‘Do you think the Entity will accept you into its tutelage?’

  ‘I know little of the procedure for being tested but I will find a way to convince it. Somehow...’ Mira tried to sound confident.

  ‘It may not be the Entity that you have to convince, Baronessa. I expect the OLOSS politics would be enough to shrivel your skin off.’

  ‘I’m afraid I’m naive about such things, although every society has its manners.’

  ‘Academics have more than a manner, especially with so much at stak
e. I would think it might be dangerous to go there unprepared.’

  ‘You are quietly warning me?’

  Bethany gave a short laugh. ‘More than quietly, Baronessa Mira. With a very loud shout. You are used to a particular kind of etiquette and certain rules. Academics have etiquette but only one rule: the rule of competition. Their world can be more ruthless than a battleground.’

  ‘You speak from experience? And please call me Mira. Baronessa seems an unnecessary encumbrance in the wider worlds, but I confess I am used to it.’

  ‘Thanks, Mira. But don’t be too quick to dismiss your title. Anything that gives you an edge in the respect stakes is worth hanging on to.’

  ‘Do you think it does?’

  ‘Maybe. And yes, I studied for a year—an abridged grading in embryology at the Fuentes-Morales studium. Lasper paid for it. It was an accelerated course so we were treated badly by the purists who refuse compressed learning and ignored by the technocrats who believe in complete immersion with no abridgement.’ She sighed.

  ‘Humanesque embryology?’ asked Mira.

  ‘Not only. But it was a large part of what I learned.’

  ‘Can you detect if a foetus is healthy?’

  Bethany’s curious stare made Mira immediately regret her question. She had given away too much.

  ‘Why do you ask? You’re not... you couldn’t be... pregnant? Are you, Mira?’

  Mira glanced around for a reason to deflect the question; anything to prevent her having to answer. And it came to her like a gift from a munificent god.

  Jo-Jo Rasterovich gave an almighty twitch and fell to the floor where he continued to spasm, a puddle of saliva collecting near his mouth. His eyes flickered open and with uncoordinated fingers he inserted his fingers into his nostrils to pick out the remnants of the inhaler.

  Mira wanted to embrace him.

  * * *

  Josef Rasterovich accompanied them back to Insignia, forestalling any more probing questions from Bethany. To Mira’s relief the conversation steered in another direction: a back-and-forth between Josef and Bethany that sustained the same jolting rhythm as their taxi.