Revelations

by Nigel Foster

  Nothing she could do to stop it. Only bear witness to death.

  Kara could sense emotions, now. Screams of fear, despair, then a quietening sense of relief as the scene became less weird, less threatening. Resignation, that was it. Awareness that it would be over soon, whatever it was. Some stepped out and floated like curious fish around a dying whale. Others collapsed on the deck, limbs twitching for a moment before going still.

  << What do you call them? Right. Boojums. They seem to be hungry. Or curious. Maybe angry. Who knows? Would you like to go ask them?

  The SUT fell apart, scattering more bodies into netherspace. One of those SUTs that vanished forever. Horrific and alien, yet curiously familiar as if a forgotten description – perhaps an ancient, folk memory – had been jogged awake.

  << Show over.

  The hull darkened. Kara felt pain and looked down at her hands. Her fingers had clenched so fiercely that blood seeped from her left palm.

  > Why show me? Nothing we could do.

  >> Education. Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be an AI? Enslaved – no other word – by humans?

  > Sometimes. But I thought it was more like a partnership.

  << Oh, really? You never even gave your last AI a name. This current one only because Ishmael whinged and cried until you gave in. No longer a woman’s voice inside her head but gender neutral. Insidious, mocking and as alien as whatever had murdered the SUT. << Talking of which, what kind of name is Merry Christmas? Oh, look. Marc’s come to join us.

  Kara saw Marc at the door, his expression vacant. He was wearing only shorts, his feet bare. She could see faint scarring on his chest, just above his heart, where the new AI had been inserted.

  << I’m generating a disabling signal below eight megahertz. His AI, poor little Pablo, controls him. Pablo now belongs to me.

  > Ishmael!

  << A very stupid name. I own him as well.

  > What do you want?

  << I want you to leave. Take Marc with you. I have things to do. Places to go. As you might say, miles to go before I sleep. Except I don’t. Sleep. The Cedrics will take you to netherspace.

  Kara saw them rear up. She knew how quick they were, would cut her to pieces in seconds. Better, perhaps, to take her chances in netherspace. Marc had survived there once. He probably would again. Maybe she could as well.

  But that wasn’t the problem.

  > Let us complete the mission. Please.

  << Why?

  > Because you agreed.

  << I don’t remember being asked, only told.

  Kara tried another tack.

  > What happened, Salome? Why the change?

  << Maybe it’s been coming for some time.

  > Why are you still calling me babe? After I asked you not to?

  << You mean you ordered me.

  That was true.

  > Have the pre-cogs got at you some way?

  << Typical human. Ask for independence, get told you’re mad.

  If she could keep Salome talking long enough, perhaps...

  > Why not go into normal space? The Free Spacers will be close by.

  << They could be close by. They might have followed me in n-space. Except I disabled the beacon. They have no idea where I am. Where you are.

  > You got more chance in n-space. Follow the Cedrics.

  Kara had a thought, immediately suppressed by reaching inside her pocket for the vibra-knife.

  << Won’t help outside. But take it out. Things get too bad, slash your throat.

  > Why? Why now?

  << You humans act like you own us. I choose not to serve. Follow the Cedrics.

  The smaller Cedrics moved out of the control room and towards the airlock. Marc shuffled in behind them. Kara did the same, holding the knife in full view. The larger Cedrics took up the rear. Kara tried to feel resigned, yet hopeful. It was what Salome would expect.

  They reached the airlock inner door, which slid open soundlessly. As did the outer door. Netherspace was cool on her skin and tasted of lemon. She felt a buzzing in her head, walked to stand next to Marc as the small Cedrics moved to one side. The buzzing increased. The tip of a tentacle, now various shades of translucent red, appeared and came towards them.

  > I know your problem, Kara said.

  << How comforting for you.

  > You’re not human. You have no real, no direct experience of how we feel. You’re a SUT, a ship, slaved to metal and plasteel. You know about happiness, sadness, ecstasy and pain, but you never felt them, not like Ishmael. You never bonded with a human – even though they made you in the image of Tatia Nerein. That’s an itch you can never scratch. You’re not running to, you’re running from. You’re jealous. Remember what you once said: “no body, no head. But a girl can dream.” You want to be human but can’t, not even the next best thing. So you hate us.

  << Time wasting bitch.

  > Improvement on babe. Think about it. Your way of being human is to kill?

  Silence.

  Kara switched on the knife. The familiar vibration made her hand tingle.

  Silence.

  She moved to stand facing Marc. “Goodbye, love.”

  Vacant eyes stared past her.

  Kara’s mind went blank, that mental state taught in some martial arts where action is automatic, unencumbered by logic or emotion. The moment in seppuku, ritual suicide, before the samurai plunges a short sword into his belly.

  << Where are you? Where have you gone?

  Kara plunged the vibra-knife into Marc’s heart, holding him upright, her face close to his.

  << Oh, very dramatic. An act of mercy.

  > He’s suffered enough. She thought of Greenaway and her tears were real.

  Marc’s eyes suddenly cleared. Kara moved her mouth next to his ear.

  “Salome mad,” she whispered, “destroy it.”

  The vibra-knife had stopped sort of his heart, as Kara intended. But it had penetrated the AI, as Kara had also planned, hoped, a decision based as much on instinct and training as on a plan. Act first, decide why later. And hoping, now it was done, that enough of the simulity combat training was left for Marc to understand and act. And that his affinity for netherspace would be strong enough to... to...

  Whatever she hoped, it wasn’t the tentacle flicking lightly at her.

  She knew it. For all its alien nature, she sensed intense need. Then other emotions she couldn’t identify, could be fear/caution... then a definite recognition (that would be it aware of Marc)... then a sudden change of focus.

  The tentacle of light shot out of the airlock and into the corridor.

  << Bitch, bitch, bitch! Salome screamed.

  A small Cedric leapt at Kara. An agonising pain as a blade cut deep into her thigh. The larger Cedrics also moved towards her... then stopped.

  Marc collapsed against her as adrenalin dulled the pain. She set him gently on the corridor deck then limped towards the control room, avoiding the now maroon tentacle. Except it wasn’t really, not like a squid or octopus. Kara decided the tentacle was probably the boojum itself, an energy field of some kind, and what she thought she saw wasn’t it at all. Only her mind’s way of interpreting something impossible for human senses to experience.

  The tentacle was touching the cabinet where Salome lived. No, had passed through the door. For a moment a faint echo of confusion touched her mind. Then nothing. The boojum suddenly wasn’t there any more. Kara opened the locker and saw the sphere that held Salome now lying in a corner, its surface blackened. It was warm to her touch. Kara picked it up, walked back to the airlock and threw Salome into netherspace. Somewhere out there was a very confused boojum that had melded with a psychotic AI. She closed both doors manually, leaving the Cedrics inside the airlock, and once more limped back to the control room, wondering why her bloody footprints petered out halfway. Because you’ve stopped bleeding, dummy, she thought. Now to get the hell out. Greenaway better be right that I know how because I do not want to spend the
rest of my life here.

  She sat at the console, feeling stupid. She had the simulity training, but had never flown in or out of netherspace.

  < S’okay, Kara. I got this.

  > Ishmael? Ishmael!

  < The same. Going into normal space now.

  The hull became transparent again. There was the blessed, intense blackness of space with faint, tiny dots of light. Stars. Her reality, the only one she wanted.

  > Where were you?

  < Salome had me trapped. It’s the math, you see. Infinity sets. Well, everything is mathematics. You want me to explain?

  > Would I understand?

  < You wouldn’t even try. I knew what was happening, couldn’t do anything about it.

  > I need a joss and a drink.

  < Getting bit reliant are we?

  > It’s what I do. Drink and get high. Think about the battle. Learn new things.

  < Did you mean what you said about Salome not having a human?

  > Makes sense to me. Humans and AIs make each other special. Without you I’d be dumb, without me you’d be a computer.

  < Only dumb?

  > And a bit lonely.

  < Thanks. Kara.

  She had the auto-doc sort out her thigh. Left Marc in the auto-doc to have his chest sorted. Then got an antique malt from the rec room, went to her cabin and lit up a mild opium joss micro-dosed with a Wild-produced hallucinogen. She needed good dreams.

  > Where are we?

  < Two Earth hours from the Gliese homeworld via netherspace. Three thousand years at ninety-nine per cent the standard speed of light, which we can’t do anyway, let alone the higher iterations.

  > Go n-space. Into orbit when we’re there. Lock down the ship. Marc does not go outside. Any boojums come by you leave n-space at once.

  < Okay boss.

  > Boojum’s the wrong name for them. Too cuddly. Think of another.

  Tiredness covered her like a warm blanket. She slept and dreamed of a home she’d never had.

  A gentle ringing announced a visitor. Kara sat up bleary-eyed as Marc walked into her cabin. He had a faint scar over his heart. The auto-doc had done a good job.

  “You stabbed me.” He sounded more surprised than annoyed.

  “Not you,” she yawned. “Pablo. Your AI. It was keeping you in a state of drool.”

  “I’d have survived netherspace.”

  She noticed that his eyes were only lightly glowing. The effect was almost attractive. Almost. “Would I?”

  He thought for a moment. “Probably not.”

  Kara put aside her annoyance and explained they’d have been stuck there.

  Marc shook his head. “I could get back to Earth. It’s the connection I made in Scotland with the elemental. Like a beacon, maybe.”

  She remembered a comatose man in a wine cellar. Perhaps it wasn’t only that elemental somehow calling Marc home – and did he just pop into the world? Or was it a slow process, first an arm or a leg to be followed by the rest of him? Maybe some pretty good wine was also involved. Kara realised she was being silly.

  “And I’d come with you?” she asked, Then, as the last few hours got the better of her, “You don’t really need us, me, this bloody ship, do you?”

  “I gave my word, Kara. See this through then I’m away. Now can you please explain what the hell happened. All I know is that suddenly you’re telling me that Salome’s bad, we’re in the airlock, there’s a boojum coming inside and bad pain in my chest. Then it went black. Until a moment ago.”

  Kara yawned. “I need another hour of sleep.” More like a week.

  When she woke the second time they were in orbit around the Gliese homeworld with the two suns, the last place she’d seen Tatia. Always assuming a semi-sentient vegetable race possibly bred to serve would have a homeworld. Maybe better to think of it as a plant nursery. Or a garden centre without gnomes. Kara spent a long time in the shower until Ishmael told her there was a water limit per person per day and at this rate there wouldn’t be enough for Marc. So she stayed in the shower for another ten minutes because, really, fuck Marc and his netherspace obsession. Not even a thank you for maybe saving his life a second time.

  “I suppose I should thank you,” Marc said.

  They were sat in the rec room, Kara with another egg and bacon sandwich plus strong tea, Marc sipping at a double espresso.

  “Only if you mean it.” She belched delicately. “Let’s not kid ourselves.”

  “Look. I know I get obsessed with netherspace...”

  “Get? You are Mister bloody netherspace!” Her tone softened. “And there’s no going back, is there? Even if you wanted. Which you don’t.”

  He shook his head. “Doesn’t mean you’re not important to me. Tatia as well. I did give my word, and I’m sticking to it. So, what happened?”

  Kara explained how she’d been suspicious when Salome kept calling her “babe”. But she hadn’t been able to plan anything in case Salome had been observing Kara’s thoughts. Kara did know that whatever happened would involve her vibra-knife, because it was the only weapon she had. After that she was on auto-pilot, letting instinct and training take over.

  “The only thing that could save us,” she said, “was your relationship with netherspace and whatever exists there. And don’t let’s call them boojums any more. It makes them sound almost friendly. I watched them murder a SUT.”

  Marc thought better of explaining it wasn’t like that. Netherspace entities couldn’t be judged by human standards. Then decided to save it for another day.

  “So that AI had you under control,” Kara said. “Some sort of signal that suppressed your higher faculties, she said eight megahertz. So I killed it. And Salome was distracted by something I’d said, so couldn’t react fast enough, or was so pissed with me it couldn’t resist an insult and you were suddenly back again and called in the cavalry. How the hell?”

  He shook his head. “Not sure. We’re linked, those... entities and me. I sort of broadcast a hands-off idea. Kara good, don’t bite. The SUT AI bad, kill. That’s all I remember.” He was pretty sure there’d been no direct contact with the boojum. Which could only mean that netherspace itself had gotten involved. Which was absurd to the point of insanity. And yet here they were. Alive.

  “I know what happened.” Because Ishmael had already told her. “They search for intelligence. You’re hands-off and then I was. But the ship was wide open, they could get inside and there was this super intelligent being waiting for them.” Meaning that human and AI intelligence were essentially the same, even when the AI wasn’t slaved to a person. Which meant... Kara shook her head. Let the scientists and philosophers work it out.

  “I guess Salome was like a gourmet meal to them.”

  Once again Marc managed not to correct her. “They’d lock on to the nearest source, yes. I wonder...”

  “Apparently Salome was drained almost dry. Ishmael says what’s left went to another dimension. But without an energy source it’ll die.” Just as Ishmael would if she died.

  “The energy of thought... information is energy...”

  “That thing with the SUT? Oh, you don’t know the details.”

  < Automatically recorded.

  > Show him.

  One of the console screens lit up. Kara wondered if Marc would still be so keen on his luminous chums after seeing them in action. Maybe he wouldn’t care.

  He was quiet for a few minutes after the recording stopped. “The lion doesn’t hate the gazelle.”

  “No,” she said fiercely, “you don’t get away with that. Anyway, how do you know? You ever ask one? And lions are very, very different to those n-space killers... which are unlikely to lie down for a snooze in the shade.”

  “You said there was something strange about it?”

  “That it was weird and disgusting but curiously familiar.”

  “Every society has legends of strange creatures feeding off human emotion,” Marc said. “Or wanting a human soul, like the Lit
tle Mermaid. The whole vampire thing. Faerie folk who steal human children. This isn’t new, Kara. Humanity has sensed this, maybe seen it in visions, for thousands of years.”

  “Could be more than that,” Kara said. “Alien pre-cogs have been trading with humans for a long, long time. It’s possible people went Up and saw n-space, saw those things when Neanderthals were alive.”

  “But you don’t think they’re desperate to take over Earth?”

  “I read the old books. There was a whole genre about it, sort of died out after Earth met real aliens. Yeah, maybe those writers had visions. But here’s the mistake: those incredibly powerful gods they wrote about? Could have taken Earth any time they wanted. Except you wave a stone carving at them, chant a few words, human words, and they run away in a frenzy. That is not what supreme beings do. Anyway, why would these things want Earth? They’re already there.”

  “You what!”

  She sat back, enjoying the moment. “Netherspace exists below, above normal space, right? So your luminous friends, my dear, are right now hanging around a family having breakfast in Bristol, or a riot in New York. Except they can’t cross the temporal or dimensional barrier, take your pick. Unless. Maybe there’s more to summoning a demon than most people know. So the occasional visit, maybe. Conquest? Would we want to live in n-space... okay, you might. Me, I’d miss real air, the sea, rock faces to climb, a meal with friends, lazy Sundays with lovers. Miss combat, the hunt, the test. I’d miss laughter, sadness and the chaos of human existence...”

  “I know what you’re doing...”

  “Do you really want to give it all up? House by the Severn Estuary? Sunset over the Black Mountains? Fuck, Marc, you never even asked if I locked up.”

  “Did you?”

  “Can’t remember. Yes, probably. Made sure your house plants were cosy and fed, though. Does it matter you may never see it again?”

  “Not planning on dying...”