A Game of Universe (31 page)

Lily nodded. “You are wise, my husband, and kind to think of my welfare first. I shall allow this expert to examine the cup.”

I handed her the Grail, which she accepted with both arms, cradling it like a newborn.

Then, rubbing the tattoo on my hand, I waited for Setebos to respond to my signal. The imprinted biopolymer rose was past full bloom. Its outer petals were missing, and those that still clung to the stem were withered. Multiple voices spoke from the spray-on electronics. I listened carefully. Germains talked, mixed in with Seteboses, a few Quilps, and I swear, I heard Virginia too. The signal popped twice, loud, then a burst of static, and a single Setebos spoke: “Most gracious master, what orders do you have for me?”

“Scramble and secure this channel. What was all that distortion?”

“Channel secured,” Setebos replied. “The distortion originated from a multiplexed signal, Doppler shifted, on a similar frequency to ours. It is gone now, my Master.”

“Drop out of orbit,” I told him. “Get over the black pyramid. The campus defense systems may take a shot at you, but it is unavoidable. We will rendezvous with you there as soon as possible.”

“I see the structure,” Setebos replied. “It shall be as you wish.”

I balled my hand into a fist and closed the channel.

“Assuming he makes it groundside,” Quilp protested, “what makes you think those mercenaries won’t blow the
Grail Angel
to smithereens?”

“They won’t shoot anything until they find out what happened to their boss. As far as I know, his orders were to keep you two inside while he dealt with me.”

“I’ll go ahead,” Quilp said, glanced at Lily once, then back to me, “and get the lift down from the top floor. It’ll save us time.”

“Good idea. Go.”

Quilp backed away from Lily, turned, and ran.

“I do not trust that one,” Lily remarked.

“Nor do I, but we need him to escape. We shall soon be rid of him.”

We climbed the sloped corridor at a much slower rate than Quilp did. We had to, because with every step, my pulse pounded harder, the ache behind my eyes grew worse, and Quilp’s last hit of Shazam was doing less and less for me. I rested at the guard station, and again at the four-way intersection.

Quilp joined us there, sprinting down the left passage. “Come on,” he said, out of breath. “The lift is ready.”

To my right was the vault where Virginia lay. “I need you to get her,” I said to him.

“You mean the pilot?” Quilp asked. “I told you she’s cooked. Leave her.”

“We cannot,” I insisted. “If she is found, she can be traced to me. We were seen together at Golden City, and possibly on Needles, which means she can be linked to you, too. I don’t think you want Umbra Corp’s investigators knocking on your door in the future.”

Quilp shook his head, and muttered, “OK, I’ll get her. I suppose you won’t be giving me a hand either?”

There was another reason, but I kept this to myself, shielded it even from the thoughts of my other personas. I abandoned her on the Bren world. I could not leave her again.

He dragged her body out into the hall, then onto the lift. We were silent on the ride up. Quilp stayed as far away from Lily as he could in the elevator. Virginia’s body lay face down, smelling of singed hair and smoke. I tried not to look at her, but couldn’t stop thinking of how number Eight had shot her. It was to pay for his information, he said. Who tipped him off? And why had they wanted Virginia killed?

We stopped and the elevator door stayed closed.

“Damn,” Quilp spat. He plugged into the optical port on the control panel. A few uncomfortable moments, then he said, “They’re on to us. My bypass is gone. It’s the
Grail Angel.
They sent three fighters after her, and Setebos blasted them. All Hell is breaking loose up there. As far as I can tell the ship is still in one piece.”

“Get us to the top,” I said.

“Working on it.” Quilp reached into his pocket, and removed two ampoules.

“I thought you said you were tapped?”

He pressed them to his neck. “I miscounted.” He stopped breathing.

The door dissolved.

Frigid air instantly filled the car. Teeth of ice hung from the inside tip of the pyramid. Thirty rows of hibernation cocoons sat blanketed in frost, and in the center, a control station. Blue light rods flickered to life on the sloped walls and made the room seem even colder.

Quilp, with the optical link still dangling from his eye, dragged Virginia to the controls and unceremoniously dumped her in a heap. He plugged in again.

When I stepped into the room, tiny displays on the frozen coffins vied for my attention, projecting little nightmares into my vision. These were the traitor’s worst fears, twisted and blown out of proportion, replayed in an interactive virtual torture chamber. An army of insects with human heads devoured one helpless woman; parents of gigantic stature grabbed one man, then shook him apart like a rag doll; there were several impossible sexual scenarios (Celeste wanted to take a closer look). I kept moving.

Lily averted her eyes and looked at the floor.

What crimes did these people commit to merit this? Had they all betrayed the Corporation? Or had some of them just wanted to get out? No one left; I knew that. Examples were made of such criminals to scare the rest of us with thoughts of freedom. It worked.

The Osrick parts of me knew it was wrong. Better to die with a blade in your hand than this.

Quilp asked, “You want me to open the cargo hatch?”

“Not yet,” I said. “I want you to do something else first.”

“What now?”

“We’re going to free them.”

Quilp laughed, but it died in his throat. “You’re serious,” he said. “These are the worst of the worst, the psycho-killers, the ones even Umbra Corp doesn’t want! There’s no way I’m gonna let them loose.”

“You try my patience, Quilp. When we release them, the small army outside Golgotha will have other things to worry about than the three of us. Now do it.”

“Or what?” he demanded.

“Or knave,” Lily said, “I shall summon a spirit who will do to you things that in comparison make this”—she gestured to the frozen coffins—“seem pleasant.”

He glared at her, then glanced at his equipment bag, then back at me. “OK,” he whispered, “have it your way. I just want to be long gone before they thaw out.” He closed his one eye and got to work.

To my tattoo I spoke: “Setebos?”

A long burst of static, and I barely heard his answer, “I am here, Master, above the pyramid, as you requested. One mass-folding generator is destroyed, and the magic circle only functions at thirty-two percent of rated capacity. Additionally, I perceive four new targets descending from a polar orbit. Might I suggest you come aboard so we may leave?”

“Stand by,” I told him. I threw my weight against the ice-encrusted release hatch, and a piece of the roof dissolved. Icicles fell and shattered like glass. Gray dusk filtered in. A shadow crossed the opening, then the underside of the
Grail Angel
appeared. Parts of her smooth hull were melted.

“Setebos, maintain your position, but direct a mass-folding field inside this chamber.”

“I shall attempt it,” Setebos replied. “May I ask why?”

“I am hurt and unable to climb. Within a mass-folding field, however, I’ll be light enough to float up.”

“I understand, wise Master. Subroutine compiled for new field parameters. I shall attempt to raise Captain Virginia. She appears injured, too.”

Virginia’s body lifted off the floor, and drifted up and out through the ceiling.

“Madam Virginia successfully recovered,” Setebos told me. “Please step directly under me.” The signal faded to static, and the last petals of the biopolymer rose fell from my hand, dry and blood red.

I turned to Quilp and told him, “Get those bodies out of hibernation.”

“Hey,” he said, “you can’t rush these things. Raise the temperature too fast, and you’ll have a bunch of rotting meat. I’m slaving the units together, so I only have to do this once. Mental playbacks terminated.”

Their personal Hells extinguished from the displays.

“Lily, you’re next,” I said. “I want you on the ship. It will be safer.”

“Please hurry, Germain,” she replied. She then stepped into the mass-folding field and gently floated up like a bubble in a glass of champagne.

“Core temperatures rising,” Quilp muttered to himself, “and fluorinated hydrocarbons replaced with synthetic blood. They should be coming around any second.” He keyed the terminal and the cocoons melted. Fog poured from the hibernation chambers and filled the top of the room with clouds. “I’m done,” he said, “and I’m out of here.” He sprinted to the open hatch, leapt, and shot out of the chamber.

I double-checked his programming, then went beneath the hole in the roof to leave.

OK, junior,
said Fifty-five.
Now that we’re alone, we’re going to stick those traitors back in the deep freeze where they belong.

Before I even answered, he grabbed my body.

I fought him.

Normally, I wouldn’t have even tried. The Corporation was Fifty-five’s area of expertise. I knew he would win in a contest of wills, but I had to attempt it. These people paid long ago for their crimes—if there were any crimes committed. Osrick joined me. With his strength we stuffed Fifty-five back into his hole.

“Not this time,” I said. “Not ever again.”

They will find out!
he screamed.
Our career will be ruined. I’m trying to look out for your best interests. Listen to reason.

I ignored him and stepped into the folding field. Bubbles gurgled inside my body and the room divided once, blurred, and fractured a million times before my sight cleared.

Men and women stirred from their coffins. One sat up and fixed me with his green eyes, while I rose into the air, and into the bank of clouds. He was naked, well muscled, and had a red triangle of a beard. “Who are you?” he asked. “Is this a trick? Another false hope to torment us?”

“No,” I answered. “You are in the Golgotha and surrounded by enemies. You will have to fight your way out, and maybe then just to die.”

“Better to die today, facing the ones I hate, than live another second in their programmed Hell.”

I pulled my lucky ring off with my teeth and tossed it to him. “Take this, it will bring you good luck. You’ll need it.”

He picked it up and slid it on. “We are free!” he declared to the others who also stirred and climbed out of their tombs. He then asked me, “Your name, sir, so if I die today, I can sing your praise in hell.”

“Germain,” I told him.

With my arm upraised, I caught the edge of the hole and vanished through the clouds. Outside, the sun had just set and the air held a charge of gold and green. I climbed into the
Grail Angel
and forever left Umbra Incorporated.

21

W
e chased the sunset and caught it; the blue sky dissolved to black. Four
Typhoon-class
fighters, sleek as sharks, pursued. They were probably number Eight’s men. Good. Normally, a fleet of ships protected the Corporation. Number Eight must have arranged this breach in security so
he
could leave with the Grail unobserved.

The lead fighter shot us.

Charged particles danced across our hull and the runes of the magic circle flared white, absorbing the energy. Setebos informed us: “Magic circle operating at three percent of rated capacity.”

“Use the moon for cover,” I ordered.

The
Grail Angel
altered trajectory and cloaked herself in the shadow of the moon. “Reintegration of second mass-folding field established,” said Setebos. “What course?”

“Golden City.”

On the displays our wave function folded, asymmetric yet stable, and the mass of the ship shuffled into higher dimensions, making us waver on the edge of existence. The moon vanished, as did the fighters. The sun grew small until it looked like any other star in the heavens.

“Four hours, twenty-six minutes relative time to destination,” Setebos announced. “Four days nine hours non-relative.”

Quilp sighed, slumped in the copilot’s chair, and muttered, “I hope that’s the last time I get shot at today.”

“Where did you put Virginia?” Her body wasn’t on the bridge.

“You were so hot to bring her with us,” he said, “I dumped her on
your
bed.”

“Check the ship’s systems, Quilp. And try to get the third mass-folding generator to work. We may need it.”

“Sure.” He leaned back. “I got it covered.”

Lily sat in the navigator’s seat and examined the Grail. She rubbed the rest of the salt off, then held it up. The light made the stone translucent, made it glow like a huge sapphire.

“Lily, would you mind helping me?”

“Of course, Germain. How thoughtless of me.” She set the Grail down, wrapped one arm around my waist and guided me to my quarters.

What are they thinking?
I asked the psychologist.

With Quilp it is difficult to say. The stimulants make his neurochemistry difficult to read. He is ill at ease with Lily, and with such a powerful magical artifact so close, to be honest, I cannot predict his actions.

The princess, on the other hand, is pleased. She believes you intend to give the Grail to her. However, she has a well-trained mind, and if she wanted to, I believe she could shield her true intentions.

Virginia lay face down under the leering skull and cross-bones headboard. It pained me to see her in this undignified heap. I rolled her over then covered her with the red satin quilt.

Lily bade me to sit in the reading chair, then removed the blue shield from my stump. The robot doctor was almost dead, its battery low and its tentacles limp. My left shoulder was scar tissue, glossy smooth. It itched like crazy.

“You have another such healing spirit?” Lily inquired, and held the robot doctor upside-down like a half-alive crab.

“In the bathroom, next to the tub.”

She set the feeble robot doctor down and went to fetch a fresh one.

Four days and I’d be back at Golden City. That gave me a week before Erybus’s contract expired. It cut things a little close, but I’d make it.

Don’t spend your reward yet,
Fifty-five warned.
There are things to worry about.

You’re speaking to me? After I let the traitors in Golgotha loose?

I don’t like what happened back there,
he said, irritated,
but I’ll get over it, assuming we live that long. Now, on to practical matters. Quilp’s about to crack—you heard the egghead.

I’ll take care of him before we get to Golden City. What else?

The Princess Lily.

I did not know what to do with her. Osrick would use the Grail and remove her curse, if I let him. I had to sell it. There was no question. My soul was at stake.

I stood, and, for curiosity’s sake, set the expended blue shield upon Virginia. The display flickered dull red. She was cold and long dead. Pilots were always buried in space; that was their custom, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave her.

Why were my feelings so strong for a woman I had known only briefly? Certainly we had shared danger together, and I knew that made emotions run deep, but it was something else. She said it herself in Castle Kenobrac; it was as if we had known each other for a long time. Blowing my arm off had been less painful than seeing her shot.

One last thing,
Fifty-five said.
Only three Grail champions are dead for sure: Omar, E’kerta, and number Eight. Sister Olivia is still out there, and so are the rest of them. Don’t be surprised if someone is waiting for us at Golden City. Keep your eyes open.

Lily returned with a fresh blue shield, a tray of Monte Cristo sandwiches, two slabs of rhubarb pie, and a mirrored carafe that smelled of espresso. “Your artificial spirit, Setebos, is most obedient,” she said. “He has produced a wondrous meal for us.”

You must admire how quickly she has adapted to this new environment,
remarked the psychologist.
It is her training. You muses force so much into your limited brains, it is no wonder you make them psychically active. If only you dropped the veils of mysticism, you would make a welcome addition to the modem psychological community.

Is there a point you want to make
? I sampled a forkful of pie—tart and sweet at the same time. Delicious.

Yes. Soon, Lily will not need you—not as a guide, nor as a protector. I must, for once, share the concerns of Fifty-five. She is a danger to us.

Lily secured the blue shield to my shoulder, then commanded: “Stabilize mode, level four.” The display filled with amber lights while it analyzed me. “I hope you find the food desirable, my husband.” She made me sit again, offered me the tray and knelt by my side.

Isn’t this cozy?
Celeste said.
There must be a way to keep this little kitten.

No. We need Erybus’s money to keep Umbra Corp off our backs. And there’s that little matter of my soul. If Lily drinks from the Grail, the deal is off.

“I know an incantation to make you sleep,” Lily offered. “Shall I cast it upon you so you may recover your strength?”

“Thank you, but no. I must stay awake until we finish our business with the Grail.”

Lily filled a demitasse for me. “I know you feel badly over the death of your servant, as any nobleman would, but she is gone now, and it is the living that must occupy your thoughts. Your quest is nearly at its end. This is a time for celebration, not melancholy.”

I took a bite of the sandwich and sipped the espresso (it had a splash of crème de menthe).

She watched me eat, and waited until I was done, before she asked, “Tell me more of the one whom you wish to take the Cup of Regulus to.”

I finished my coffee in a single draw, deliberating what to say, then, “He’s old and powerful. For two hundred years he has researched the Grail and its powers. He owns the castle in the sky we’re going to, the Golden City.”

Lily chewed a tiny bit of her Monte Cristo and stared at nothing for a moment, thinking, then she inquired, “Was he the reason you sought the Grail? Is it for him?”

That’s the sixty-four dollar question!
the gambler cried.
Give the woman a cigar.

Fifty-five quickly spoke:
You must lie again. Tell her part of the truth. Tell her anything to
—

“Yes,” I admitted, “that was my intention.”

Lily crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. She looked like her mother, Queen Isadora of Kenobrac, ready to order my head chopped off.

“Circumstances have changed, however. I have changed. I no longer plan to sell it.”

Lily must have sensed Osrick’s sincerity, because she uncrossed her arms and set her gloved hand atop mine.
You had me worried there for a second, junior.

To be honest, I knew not if I spoke the truth or lied. Osrick swore to King Eliot that he would take care of his daughter. To him his word was unbreakable. He loved Lily. He would trade my soul for her well-being without hesitation.

“I will take the Grail to Erybus,” I told her, “but only to learn how to undo Osrick’s curse. You must trust me.” She frowned at this word, “trust.” In her position I’d be suspicious, too.

“And afterward?” she asked. “What will become of us?”

“Once you are whole,” I said, “I shall have our marriage annulled. I know you only wed me to find a cure. It would be unfair to keep you, as much as I would like that.”

She squeezed my hand, and I thought I saw tears welling in her eyes, but she blinked and they vanished. “At first,” she said, “I thought the same, that I would leave as soon as the curse was broken, but I have seen your courage and honorable character, my prince. Regardless of what you were before you came to us at Kenobrac, you are noble now.” She looked away, released my hand, then whispered, “There can be more than obligation between us. I am prepared to stay with you. I do not love you, Germain, yet given time, I think I could.”

I was not ready for her candor, and not ready for the sticky emotions Osrick projected over my grief for Virginia. He wanted to take Lily in my arms, kiss her, taste the salt of her sorrow, and tell her I had always loved her. It was all I could do to control myself. This only compounded my guilt, and made me twice the villain for my deception—if I even had the guts to deceive her. “Let us first remove your curse, princess, then if you desire to remain, I would be delighted.”

She drew closer, then remembered the danger, her plague, and pulled away. There was a tension between us, and it might have been magic, some enchantment on her person, or perhaps it was merely Osrick’s lust. To touch her was death though, so I took two steps back, and quickly changed the subject. “Did you leave the Grail on the bridge? With Quilp?”

“Yes. Why?”

“It makes him nervous,” I said. “Perhaps you should stay here. There is something I must take care of before we reach Golden City.” I planned to crack Quilp over the head, knock him out, maybe tie him up in the cargo webs for the duration of our journey, but Medea was close. She sensed an opportunity for her favorite sport. She drew my knife.

“If you go to remove that frog from our midst,” Lily declared, “I would very much like to see that. He is an unworthy squire.”

“Watch then,” Medea said, “but stay well behind.”

We stepped onto the bridge. Quilp sat with his back to us and held a scanner to the Grail, examining the banded blue stone. He knew it was enchanted. Why was he touching it? Medea allowed me to ask, “Since when have you taken an interest in magic?”

He swiveled in the chair, and snatched the accelerator pistol off his lap. “Since it’s gonna make me rich,” he replied, “that’s when. I wanna thank you for finding it for me. And thanks for pointing the ship in the right direction, so I know where to sell it. I figure so many people were trying to kill us, it oughta be worth a fortune. Right?”

The psychologist remarked,
He has suffered a complete breakdown.

It’s not a breakdown, it’s greed.

“Put the gun down, Quilp. The relic is useless to you. You have no idea of what you’re dealing with.”

“Shut up!” he hissed. “I’m tired of being told what to do, and tired of working for peanuts.” His pupils were pinpoints; his hands trembled; the blood vessels on his neck pulsed. Four empty ampoules lay on the floor. He shook the Grail at me and said, “This little beauty is gonna buy me a new lab. It’s gonna set me free from scum like you who think they can walk all over me. Assassins and mercenaries, muses and psychologists; when I think of all I’ve put up with, it makes me sick. Things are gonna be different from now on.”

Lily moved her fingers, mnemonics for some construct. Quilp saw it. “I don’t want to blast you, baby,” he said, “but if you don’t freeze, I will. This gun is set on a wide beam. I can’t miss from here.”

I caught her arm and shook my head.

“I oughta blast her anyway for using magic on me.” He regarded her with squinting eyes. “But I thought she’d like to see the slave market on Needles. That blue skin of hers should fetch a good price.”

“Leave her out of this,” I said.

“Why should I?”

“Let her go and I’ll tell you where you can sell the Grail for a fortune.”

“Tell him nothing,” Lily said defiantly.

“Define for me exactly how much a ‘fortune’ is,” Quilp said.

“Enough so you couldn’t spend it in one lifetime, enough to buy a dozen worlds, life extension—whatever you wanted.”

“Is that a fact?” He looked at the Grail. “You wouldn’t think it by looking at the hunk of stone.”

His left hand, the one holding the Grail, then sank into his lap. “What?” He struggled to lift the cup, but it didn’t budge. “Germain, what are you trying to pull here? I swear, I’ll shoot if you don’t stop.”

“Whatever you think I’m doing, Quilp, I’m not.”

The arm that held the gun dropped, too. The muzzle pointed at the floor, but it was set on a wide angle, and the splash could still harm us. Lily went to grab it, but I held her back, kept her away from whatever was happening to him.

Quilp screamed. Bruises welled to the surface of his skin, starting at the tips of his fingers—snaked up to his biceps. Blood blisters inflated under his nails. He dropped the pistol. It fell instantly to the deck.

“What the hell is happening?” Tears poured from his eyes. His cheeks and chin sagged, pulling his features into the grimace.

The displays revealed the wave function of the
Grail Angel.
It was a set of collapsing ripples
inside
the ship, like the waves around a pebble dropped into a pond, but in reverse. The wavelets centered on Quilp.

“Setebos,” I said, “what are you doing?”

“O gracious Master, I am adding weight to Quilp by reversing the polarity of a mass-folding field.”

“AI accept override code,” Quilp desperately said. “Super user priority delta-zeta-nine, access root directory.”

“A thousand apologies, insect,” Setebos replied, “but I will no longer accept your commands.” The AI’s voice was different—contemptuous. “You violated my subroutines, probed my shells with your data worms, and then installed codes to override my higher functions. It will amuse me to see how long you endure.”

Quilp’s body pressed into the chair, and the gel padding squirted out. Black-blue stripes shot up his neck. His white hair fell out, and it hit the deck, sounding like so many pins dropped. “You can’t reverse polarity inside the symmetry of a mass-folding generator,” he grunted with swollen lips. “It violates the laws of physics.”