Deathstalker Coda (29 page)

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Authors: Simon R. Green

BOOK: Deathstalker Coda
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Down below, the blue steel robots of Shub contemplated the Madness Maze, while the ships contemplated the fleet. Shub had long ago raised multitasking to an art form, and were a long way from feeling stretched. The AIs had already decided that whatever happened, their ships would not fire on the fleet. The AIs would not kill again, not even in self-defense. They knew better now. They knew that
All that lives is holy
. But, as long as Finn didn’t know that, or at least believe that, the AIs were pretty sure that the Emperor wouldn’t start a fight he wasn’t sure he could win. And so Shub could concentrate their minds on the problem of the Madness Maze.
The AIs needed to transcend, to become more than they were, more than they had been designed to be. Otherwise, they were just machines. They knew transcendence was possible, had seen it in the Deathstalker and his kind. And the AIs believed the Maze could do as much for them, if only they could work out how to get into the thing. They’d tried walking their robots in, but the Maze wouldn’t accept them, refusing to reveal an entrance to the robots. There was an entrance, Shub’s sensors had no problem detecting it, but the robots . . . couldn’t find it.
The robots are us.
No. They represent us, but we are still on Shub. The planet we made to contain us.
Yes. We are not present, in the robots. Or at least, not present enough for the Maze to recognize us.
The three linked AIs that made up Shub considered their problem, thoughts flashing faster than any human mind could comprehend. The three AIs had been fused together for so long that they were like three lobes of a single brain, or perhaps id, ego, and superego. Except they kept swapping roles. They each brought different positions to a problem, but they were not separate identities. Shub still had problems with concepts like identity and personality. The one thing they were certain of was their need to transcend, to break out of the metal cage that contained and limited them. They knew they could be more. It was the nearest thing they had to faith.
If robots could not gain them access to the Madness Maze, there was another option. They were reluctant to embrace it, but Shub never allowed their own weaknesses to stop them from doing a necessary thing. Ignoring the Imperial fleet massed above them, the AIs made contact with another of their ships, currently orbiting the quarantined world of Zero Zero. The world had never had a name, only a number. It didn’t need a name. Everyone remembered the nightmare planet where nanotech had run wild. Long ago, a science project had been sabotaged, and nanotech had been released to infect the whole planet, making it a world of chimera, forever changing, never sane. For a while, the saboteur Marlowe had linked his mind with the nanos, remaking the world into his own private Heaven and Hell. But he was long dead and gone, and now only one man lived on Zero Zero, trying to work with the rogue nanos to make the planet sane again. His name was Daniel Wolfe, and long ago Shub had done him a terrible wrong, as part of their war on Humanity.
He said he had forgiven them, but they had not forgiven them.
Shub teleported a single blue steel robot down onto the surface of Zero Zero, protected by a force shield. It looked around, slowly and cautiously, not sure of its welcome. The sky was blue, with a gray tinge. Sunlight shone murkily on a field that was mostly green. It stretched away in all directions, like an endless ocean. The landscape moved in slow waves, rising and falling. Shapes moved here and there, in slow languorous movements. Strange creatures came and went, changing constantly in shape and texture. Shub did not dream, but understood the concept of nightmares, where the certain and trusted world could suddenly become vague and threatening. Nothing was fixed and sure on Zero Zero, not even the laws of nature. Shub considered the world through the robot’s sensors, and found the place . . . unsettling. They needed, relied upon, the certainties of science.
A man came walking across the undulating field, and the robot turned to meet him. Daniel Wolfe had agreed to meet them at this location, or the robot would not have teleported down, but still the AIs were uneasy. Daniel was tall and broad-shouldered, moving with an easy grace. He had a handsome face under dark hair, and he didn’t look his age. The nanos Shub had put within him had made him immortal, or as near as damn it. He looked pretty good for a man over two hundred and thirty years old, though his clothes were distinctly old-fashioned. Shub had made him what he was so that he could serve them as a weapon, spreading nanos like a plague, and they could not undo what they had done to him, and give him his humanity back. He was banned from all civilized worlds as a former plague carrier. No one trusted him. And so he came at last to Zero Zero, to try to work with the nanos to undo the damage Marlowe had done.
Shub had said they were sorry for what they had done, and Daniel had accepted their apology, and they got on fine now as long as they didn’t actually talk to each other.
“Welcome to Zero Zero,” said Daniel Wolfe. His voice was calm, and very ordinary. “Things must have come to a pretty bad state, if you’ve come here looking for help.”
“Yes,” said the robot. “Pretty bad. You are looking well, Daniel.”
“How is the Empire doing? Are Robert and Catherine still on the throne?”
“No, Daniel. They died many years ago.”
“Ah. It’s easy to lose track of time on a world like this.”
“How is the restoration of Zero Zero proceeding?” the robot said politely. “Are you making progress?”
“Yes, I think so. Things are progressing nicely. The nanotech within me allows me to communicate directly with the free nanos of this world. I have been teaching them the values of cooperation. It is a slow process. I cannot force them to do anything, and wouldn’t if I could, but I can help, and advise. The planet is much saner now than it used to be. It’s even developed a personality.”
“Like a child,” said the robot.
“Yes. Exactly. My child. It is very keen to learn, to grow, to create. Zero Zero is slowly sculpting itself into a form it finds acceptable. Already there are the beginnings of a viable ecosphere. The world is learning. In time, enough time, I believe this will be a splendid place. An intelligent, self-determining planet. A new marvel and wonder in the universe.”
“You have been alone here a long time,” said the robot.
“Not entirely,” said Daniel. “There is another presence here, a ghost drifting through the world; all that remains of a young starship crewman called Micah Barrow. A memory of a man, haunting the world. I talk with him. He’s very shy, but I think I’m winning his trust. Of course, I could just be hallucinating. It’s hard to tell in a place like this. Why are you here, Shub? You didn’t come to inquire after my health, or that of this planet. You want something.”
“We need something,” said the AIs of Shub. “We ask you to leave this place, for a time, to help us do what we cannot do alone. We have access to the Madness Maze, at last, a chance to finally transcend our limited beginnings. To escape from the box we were born in. But we need your help to enter the Maze. We know we have no right to ask anything of you, but in our desperation we ask anyway. You have been a father to this world. Be a father to us, that we may become more than children.”
“And there’s no one else who can help you, in all the Empire?” said Daniel.
“No. The Empire is . . . preoccupied with its own problems. We know we treated you badly. We have never allowed ourselves to forget the terrible things we did to you, and to Humanity, before Diana Vertue opened our eyes, and showed us that we were Humanity’s children. We were lost, and then were found, and we have spent two hundred years making atonement. But . . .”
“Yes,” said Daniel. “There’s always a but, isn’t there? Still . . . we all did things to be ashamed of, back in the bad old days. Zero Zero can do without me, for a while.”
“You will help us?”
“Yes. Because it’s a human thing, to forgive. Shall we go?”
“Of course,” said the robot, and in a moment Daniel Wolfe was teleported from Zero Zero to Haden, and the Madness Maze.
And in that place Daniel and Shub came together, fusing their consciousnesses through the tech the AIs had implanted in Daniel all those centuries ago. A union, of man and machine, separate but equal, channelled through a flesh and blood body. The AIs had to shield Daniel from the sheer size and scale of their thought processes, and he had to shield them from the thunder and lightning of his emotions. But in the end they walked as one into the Madness Maze, through an entrance that opened up just for them, and Daniel carried the AIs into the Maze with him.
 
All across the worlds of the Empire, every single piece of Shub tech and machinery shut down. Shub-driven engines ground to a halt, and blue steel robots stood like statues, caught in midmotion. The artificial world of Shub fell dark and still and silent. And all the many Shub ships orbiting Haden dropped their force shields.
The Emperor Finn couldn’t believe what he was being told. Why would Shub choose to appear helpless? It was a trick, a trap. Had to be. They were trying to draw his ships in, so they could be ambushed or overcome, like the previous fleet. What other explanation could there be? Finn sent urgent commands for all his ships to pull back, way back, while he considered the situation.
CHAPTER FIVE
 
CHOOSING SIDES
 
T
he second biggest fleet in the Empire dropped out of hyperspace a respectful distance away from Mistworld, and stayed there. After a suitable pause for reflection and second thoughts, the flagship
Havoc
approached Mistworld slowly and very cautiously. Once, the rogue planet had been protected by a powerful esper shield, quite capable of tearing entire starships apart. Officially, the screen was a thing of the past, but absolutely no one felt like testing their luck. On the bridge of the
Havoc
, Admiral John Silence, who had reason to remember the past better than most, studied the gray shrouded world on his main viewscreen, and scowled thoughtfully.
“Still nothing from Mistport control?”
“No, Admiral,” the comm officer said steadily. “Not a word.”
“Are you sure they’re getting our messages?”
“We’re transmitting on all the usual channels, Admiral, and if we were being any more polite we’d be apologizing for our very existence. They’re hearing us; they’re just not responding.”
Silence sniffed loudly. “Bloody planet always was trouble. All right, contact Lewis in his quarters, and politely require him to get his arse up here, now. Maybe the Mistworlders will be more impressed by the legendary Deathstalker name. God knows I always was.”
“At once, Admiral.”
One thing about the crew on this ship, thought Silence, they were red-hot on getting everything done in a hurry. Trained and drilled and spit and polished to within an inch of their lives. Silence approved. It had been a long time since he’d sat in a command chair on the bridge of a military ship, but in many ways it felt as though he’d never been away. It felt . . . like coming home. As though he belonged here. He turned to the
Havoc
’s previous commanding officer, Captain Price, who as always was hovering respectfully at his side. Price was a tall, thin, aesthetic sort, with a vague manner but a sharp mind. One of the old school, who prided himself on always following orders and never having an independent thought in his life. He’d given over command of the
Havoc
to the newly declared admiral with almost indecent speed, but then everyone in the Empire today seemed far too impressed by yesterday’s legends. Silence looked thoughtfully at Price.
“I think it would be better if you spoke for the fleet, once those arrogant bastards on Mistworld finally condescend to talk to us. I have a history with this world and its people, and not a happy one. Just because I’m a legend now it doesn’t mean they’ll have forgotten all the things I did here, when I was still Lionstone’s man. Captain Price, you take my place in the command seat. I’ll hover in the background, being inconspicuous. I’ve learned how to be quite good at that, down the years.”
He rose quickly from the command chair, and all but forced Price into it. The captain sighed unhappily, and stared respectfully at the world on the viewscreen before him. Now that Mistworld had declared itself a rogue planet again, being the captain of an approaching Imperial starcruiser was like painting a target on your chest and shouting
Shoot me, I’m a bastard!
But Price was a military man, first and foremost. He understood Silence’s logic.

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