A Fire Upon the Deep (61 page)

Text of message:

As best we can tell, all our High Beyond sites have been absorbed by the Blight. If you can, please ignore all messages from those sites.

Until four hours ago, our organization comprised twenty civilizations at the Top. What is left of us doesn't know what to say or what to do. Things are so slow and murky and dull now; we were not meant to live this low. We intend to disband after this mailing.

For those who can continue, we want to tell what happened. The new attack was an abrupt thing. Our last recollections from Above are of the Blight suddenly
reaching
in all directions, sacrificing all its immediate security to acquire as much processing power as possible. We don't know if we had simply underestimated its power, or if the Blight itself is somehow now desperate -- and taking desperate risks.

Up to 3000 seconds ago we were under heavy assault along our organization's internal networks. That has ceased. Temporarily? Or is this the limit of the attack? We don't know, but if you hear from us again, you will know that the Blight has us.

Farewell.

-=*=-

Distribution:
Threat of the Blight, Society for Rational Network Management, War Trackers Interest Group Date: 72.80 days since the Fall of Sjandra Kei

Text of message:

It's always amusing to see people who think themselves the center of the universe. Take the recent spread of the Blight [references follow for readers not on those threads and newsgroups]. The Blight is an unprecedented change in a limited portion of the Top of the Beyond -- far away from most of my readers. I'm sure it's the ultimate catastrophe for many, and I certainly feel sympathy for such, but a little humor too, that these people somehow think their disaster is the end of everything. Life goes on, folks.

At the same time, it's clear that many readers are not paying proper attention to these events -- certainly not seeing what is truly significant about them. In the last year, we have witnessed the apparent murders of several Powers and the establishment of a new ecosystem in a portion of the High Beyond. Though far away, these events are without precedent.

Often before, I have called this the Net of a Million Lies. Well, people, we now have an opportunity to view things while the truth is still manifest. With luck we may solve some fundamental mysteries about the Zones and the Powers.

I urge readers to watch events below the Blight from as many angles as possible. In particular, we should take advantage of the remaining relay at Debley Down to coordinate observations on both sides of the Blight-affected region. This will be expensive and tedious, since only Middle and Low Beyond sites are available in the affected region, but it will be well worth it.

General topics to follow:

The nature of the Blight Net communications: The creature is part Power and part High Beyond, and infinitely interesting.

The nature of the recent Great Surge in the Low Beyond beneath the Blight: This is another event without clear precedent. Now is the time to study it.

...

The nature of the Blighter fleet now closing on an off-net site in the Low Beyond: This fleet has been of great interest to War Trackers over the last weeks, but mainly for asinine reasons (who cares about Sjandra Kei and the Aprahant Hegemony; local politics is for locals). The real question should be obvious to all but the brain damaged:
Why
has the Blight made this great effort so far out its natural depth?

If there are any ships still in the vicinity of the Blight's fleet, I urge them to keep War Trackers posted. Failing that, local civilizations should be reimbursed for forwarding ultrawave traces.

.Delete this paragraph to shift page flush

-=*=-

Ravna walked across the field toward the waiting packs. The thick smoke had been blown away, but its smell was still heavy in the air. The hillside was burned-over desolation. From above, Steel's castle had looked like the center of a great, black nipple, hectares of natural and pack-made destruction capping the hill.

The soldiers silently made way for her. More than one cast an uneasy glance at the starship grounded behind her. She walked slowly past them toward the ones who waited. Eerie the way they sat, like picnickers but all uneasy about each other's presence. This must be the equivalent of a close staff conference for them. Ravna walked toward the pack at the center, the one sitting on silken mats. Intricate wooden filigree hung around the necks of the adults, but some of those looked sick, old. And there were two puppies sitting out front of it. They stepped precisely forward as Ravna crossed the last stretch of open ground.

"Er, you're the Woodcarver?" she asked.

A woman's voice, incredibly human, came from one of the larger members. "Yes, Ravna. I'm Woodcarver. But it's Peregrine you want. He's up in the castle, with the children.

"Oh."

"We have a wagon. We can take you inwards right away." One of them pointed at a vehicle being drawn up the hillside. "But you could have landed much closer, could you not?"

Ravna shook her head. "No. Not ... anymore." This was the best landing that she and Greenstalk could make.

The heads cocked at her, all a coordinated gesture. "I thought you were in a terrible hurry. Peregrine says there is a fleet of spacers coming hot on your trail."

For an instant Ravna didn't say anything. So Pham had told them of the Blight? But she was glad he had. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the numbness. "Y-yes. We are in a great hurry." The dataset on her wrist was linked to the
OOB
. Its tiny display showed the steady approach of the Blight's fleet.

All the heads twisted, a gesture that Ravna couldn't interpret. "And you despair. I fear I understand."

How can you? And if you can, how can you forgive us?
But all that Ravna said aloud was, "I'm sorry."

The Queen mounted her wagon and they rolled across the hillside toward the castle walls. Ravna looked back once. Down slope, the
OOB
lay like a great, dying moth. Its topside drive spines arched a hundred meters into the air. They glistened a wet, metallic green. Their landing had not been quite a crash. Even now, agrav canceled some of the craft's weight. But the drive spines on the ground side were crumpled. Beyond the ship, the hillside fell steeply away to the water and the islands. The westering sun cast hazy shadows across the islands and on the castle beyond the straits. A fantasy scene of castles and starships.

The display on her wrist serenely counted down the seconds.

"Steel put gunpowder bombs all around the dome." Woodcarver swept a couple of noses, pointing upwards. Ravna followed her gesture. The arches were more like a Princess cathedral than military architecture: pink marble challenging the sky. And if it all came down, it would surely wreck the spacecraft parked beneath.

Woodcarver said that Pham was in there now. They rolled indoors, through dark, cool rooms. Ravna glimpsed row after row of coldsleep boxes.
How many might still be revivable? Will we ever find out?
The shadows were deep. "You're sure that Steel's troops are gone?"

Woodcarver hesitated, her heads staring in different directions. So far, pack expressions were impossible for Ravna to read. "Reasonably sure. Anybody still in the castle would need to be behind lots of stone, or my search parties would have found them. More important, we have what's left of Steel." The Queen seemed to read Ravna's questioning expression perfectly. "You didn't know? Apparently Lord Steel came down here to blow all the bombs. It would have been suicide, but that pack was always a crazy one. Someone stopped him. There was blood all over. Two of him are dead. We found the rest wandering around, a whimpering mess... Whoever did Steel in is also behind the rapid retreat. That someone is doing his best to avoid any confrontation. He won't be back soon, though I fear I'll have to face dear Flenser eventually."

Under the circumstances, Ravna figured that was one problem that would never materialize. Her dataset showed forty-five hours till the Blight's arrival.

Jefri and Johanna were by their starship, under the main dome. They sat on the steps of the landing ramp, holding hands. When the wide doors opened and Woodcarver's wagon drove through, the girl stood and waved. Then they saw Ravna. The boy walked first quickly then more slowly across the wide floor. "Jefri Olsndot?" Ravna called softly. He had a tentative, dignified posture that seemed much too old for an eight-year-old. Poor Jefri had lost much, and lived with so little for so long. She stepped down from the wagon and walked toward him.

The boy advanced out of the shadows. He was surrounded by a near mob of small-size pack members. One of them hung on his shoulder; others tumbled around his feet without ever seeming to get in his way; still others followed his path both in front and behind. Jefri stopped well back from her. "Ravna?"

She nodded.

"Could you step a little closer? The Queen's mind sound is too close." The voice was still the boy's,
but his lips hadn't moved.
She walked the few meters that still separated them. Puppies and boy advanced hesitantly. Up close she could see the rips in his clothing, and what looked like wound dressings on his shoulders and elbows and knees. His face looked recently washed, but his hair was a sticky mess. He looked up at her solemnly, then raised his arms to hug her. "Thank you for coming." His voice was muffled against her, but he wasn't crying. "Yes, thank you, thank poor Mr. Blueshell." His voice again, sad but unmuffled, coming from the pack of puppies all around them.

Johanna Olsndot had advanced to stand just behind them.
Only fourteen is she?
Ravna reached a hand toward her. "From what I hear, you were a rescue force all by yourself."

Woodcarver's voice came from the wagon. "Johanna was that. She changed our world."

Ravna gestured up the ship's ramp, at the glow of the interior lighting. "Pham's up there?"

The girl started to nod, was preempted by the pack of puppies. "Yes, he is. He and the Pilgrim are up there." The pups disentangled themselves and started up the steps, one remaining behind to tug Ravna toward the ramp. She started after them, with Jefri close beside her.

"Who
is
this pack?" she said abruptly to Jefri, pointing to the puppies.

The boy stopped in surprise. "Amdi of course."

"I'm sorry," Jefri's voice came from the puppies. "I've talked to you so much, I forget you don't know --" There was a chorus of tones and chords that ended in a human giggle. She looked down at the bobbing heads, and was certain the little devil was quite aware of his misrepresentations. Suddenly a mystery was solved. "Pleased to meet you," she said, angered and charmed at the same time. "Now --"

"Right, there are much more important things now." The pack continued to hop up the stairs. "Amdi" seemed to alternate between shy sadness and manic activity. "I don't know what they're up to. They kicked us out as soon as we showed them around."

Ravna followed the pack, Jefri close behind. It didn't
sound
like anything was going on. The interior of the dome was like a tomb, echoing with the talk of the few packs who guarded it. But here, halfway up the steps, even those sounds were muted, and there was nothing coming through the hatch at the top. "Pham?"

"He's up there." It was Johanna, at the base of the stairs. She and Woodcarver were looking up at them. She hesitated, "I'm not sure if he's okay. After the battle, he -- he seemed strange."

Woodcarver's heads weaved about, as if she were trying to get a good look at them through the glare of the hatch lights. "The acoustics in this ship of yours are awful. How can humans stand it?"

Amdi: "Ah, it's not so bad. Jefri and I spent lots of time up here. I got used to it." Two of his heads were pushing at the hatch. "I don't know why Pham and Pilgrim kicked us out; we could have stayed in the other room and been real quiet."

Ravna stepped carefully between the pack's lead puppies and pounded on the hull metal. It wasn't hard-latched; now she could hear the ship's ventilation. "Pham, what progress?"

There was a rustling sound and the click of claws. The hatch slid partway back. Bright, flickering light spilled down the ramp. A single doggy head appeared. Ravna could see white all around its eyes. Did that mean anything? "Hi," it said. "Uh, look. Things are a bit tense just now. Pham -- I don't think Pham should be bothered."

Ravna slipped her hand past the gap. "I'm not here to bother him. But I am coming in."
How long we've fought for this moment. How many billions have died along the way. And now some talking dog tells me things are a bit tense.

The Pilgrim looked down at her hand. "Okay." He slid the hatch far enough open to let her through. The pups were quick around her heels, but they recoiled before the Pilgrim's glance. Ravna didn't notice....