The Octagonal Raven (26 page)

Raven: Tyanjin, 459 N.E.

Almost running, I made my way back through the streets, until I managed to find a pubcomm booth in the corner of the lobby of a small hotel—the standard name under the Sinese characters said it was the Hotel Paradise. From what I could tell from the foyer and the lobby, it was clean, if smelling slightly of ginger flowers. I could have turned on my belt repeater, but with the equipment my enemies seemed to possess, that would have lit up my location like a signal beacon. Without a direct access code, it would be almost impossible for them to find me quickly, even if they were accessing Majora’s links. I hoped that meant that no one could get to me before I got to Eldyn, even if they could directly backtrack the call to the booth. And I especially hoped Majora happened to be home or awake.

Once again, I got the gatekeeper and Majora’s sim.

“Majora, this is me….” I waited a moment.

The sim began to speak. “As you can see, I’m not really—”

“I know….” I mumbled. “You’re sleeping….”

“It is the middle of the night, Daryn….” Her voice came in over the sim’s before she muted the automatic response. Her tone was half-sleepy, half-humorous.

“I’m sorry.”

“How did it go?” she asked.

“She was the one…and she left me an address for my old friend.”

“He called and left one here.” Her voice firmed. “He said that you should meet him as soon as you could, that it was more urgent than you could possibly imagine. Have you watched any news?”

“About the new epidemic? Only once.”

“Daryn…it’s awful. They’re suggesting that pre-selects stay to themselves, and that a quarantine for pre-selects might be necessary. More than two thousand have died in Ankorplex already, and almost as many in Macuaplex. They’re saying that cases have turned up in Mancha and all over EuroEast, and the medcenters are being flooded in Calfya already.”

“That’s not good. I hadn’t heard that.”

“Can you come home after you meet him?”

“What address did he give you?” I asked.

As she read off the numerals and the street—the Way of Seven Steps—I checked them against the card that Elysa had given me. The two were identical. I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or even more worried. More worried won out.

“He also said it was within two hundred meters of the Grand Hotel.”

“I don’t know where that is, but we’ll see if we can find it.” Then, I didn’t know where anything in Tyanjin was.

“Is that the royal we, or is your friend around?”

“She used a flare gadget to blind me for a moment. Have no idea where she is.”

“Nice person…”

“It’s about what I expected.”

“I wish you could come back to Noram now….” Her voice had an edge of huskiness to it.

“So do I…but…”

“I know…. You need to go. The sooner you find him, the sooner you can come back.”

I also understood that if I didn’t find and meet Eldyn quickly I might get stuck in Tyanjin, or somewhere else in the Sinoplex, if the secretary director of the Federal Union decided to impose restrictions on travel. “I’m going.”

“Take care.”

“I will. You, too.” After a moment, I broke the connection.

After I stepped out of the comm both, I glanced toward the hotel’s receiving area. No one was there, except for a slender young man wearing, surprisingly, a dark green singlesuit, and a gold vest. I moved toward him.

He looked at me, waiting, his dark eyes blank.

“Do you speak standard?”

“Yes, ser.”

“I am supposed to meet a friend at the Grand Hotel….”

“Yes. It is not far. If you turn right when you leave the lobby, walk downhill to the third street. Turn right. Walk one block and turn left. The Grand Hotel is four or five hundred meters east.”

“Thank you very much.”

His only response was a nod. I had the feeling that he felt I was going to take a room at the competitor, but there wasn’t much I could do about that.

Outside, the clouds were beginning to thin, and a few patches of bluish sky were appearing in the west. A few more passersby glanced at me almost surreptitiously, but most followed the example of the passengers on the magtrain—studiously ignoring me.

As I walked eastward, I hoped they all did.

Social contract…a thesis based on an antithesis…
brutish and short, because it rests on consent,
never informed, because culture remains
an antique deck of paper cards with five suits,
none of which is a Tarot.

Ser, or sir and lady, salutations of a time…
Which time?
The sexless gentility of Tiresias,
the zen birds of Merton,
est-il tempus, in terram?
Time for what? Or for whom which carillon rings?

James, rex angliae, and the version commissioned in his name,
all the futilities of fame,
codifying the unknowable in stately prose,
gilding an immaterial rose.

Let the music rise; let the sea fall,
seeking an equilibrium dating to the Tethys,
against which fell dates and canal gates.

Gates?
Toroidal…or octagonal?
Leading to unchanging stars and a vanished race?
Or mere artifacts from time, buried in space?
Guarded portals in the defenses of systems and cities?
Beyond either are unmeasured distances, dragons,
the equivalent of dragoons…
                                    …and space.

Personal Notes

Tyanjin, 459 N.E.

Finding the Way of Seven Steps took a little longer than it would have in, say, Westi or Vallura, or most towns or cities in Noram. I walked past it twice—once walking to the Grand Hotel, and, again, after getting directions, walking back past the narrow lane between what looked to be a boarding house and a shop that seemed to carry antiquities behind grimy armaglass.

There was no sign to mark the way, and I entered the lane cautiously.

Once through the tiled archway I found myself in a cul-de-sac flanked by well-kept, if modest, two-story houses that I would not have guessed existed. All the roofs were of a dark blue tile, and each had a front door set in a recessed alcove under overhanging eaves. The porches formed by the eaves and stone pillars were floored in hexagonal ceramic tiles, with each side of the tiles roughly two decimeters in length.

About half the houses had Arabic numerals. The numbers I wanted weren’t on any, but the third house on the right seemed to be in the right order numerically, and I stepped up under the eaves to the door and knocked.

I barely lifted my knuckles from the permafinished wooden door when it opened. A young woman—clearly not Sinese—gestured for me to enter. She was probably of academy age, and I wondered why she was there, rather than in school.

“Doctor Nyhal? Eldyn Nyhal?” I asked.

“He’s in his study, ser. If you’d follow me…” Her standard was perfect as she closed the door. I could sense no overt electronics, and the dwelling was quiet, almost perfectly silent.

We walked through the tiled foyer and a room floored in dark wooden parquet that held a low sofa set before a fireplace—real, it appeared—and then along another tiled hall. The first door on the left was open, and before we reached it, Eldyn stepped forward. He was stockier, and his wavy brown hair was far thinner than when we had graduated from Blue Oak Academy. Unlike when I had seen him in the past, he was no longer wearing a bright singlesuit, but one in a muted bluish gray. He did wear an ovalish medallion, also a dark gray. Close-up, I realized it was octagonal, not oval.

Eldyn smiled. “Daryn…I wasn’t sure whether you’d come, but I had hoped you would.”

“I’m here.” I returned his smile, but my senses were taking in everything in the study, a spare room with little more in it besides a conference table and four chairs.

Eldyn motioned to the young woman. “Mehlysa, you must go now, quickly, as we discussed.”

The resemblance between the two was strikingly clear. Both had the light brown wavy hair, and the same small straight nose—and the watery blue eyes.

“But…” Her voice had the hesitancy of a teenager.

“Now that my friend is here, it won’t be safe for you.”

“It won’t be safe for you, Father.”

“It will be for a time, but I can’t do what I need to do and worry about you. Take the hidden way, and I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

I could sense that while Eldyn wasn’t lying, he was very controlled, and more than slightly worried. That made me more than a little apprehensive. So did the octagonal medallion, although it could have been an affectation to remind us pre-selects of his conquest of the pre-select plague.

With a look over her shoulder, the girl walked toward the rear of the dwelling. She was looking back as Eldyn closed the study door.

“She looks a lot like you,” I offered, not knowing exactly what to say.

“She looks more like her mother.” The doctor/scientist/food magnate smiled warmly, if but for a moment before turning to me. “How do you like my retreat? It’s so modest that it has escaped unnoticed until now.”

“Until now?” I scanned the room. The walls were bare. There was a flat panel holding some energy above the door, and another similar panel over the window that ran nearly from floor to ceiling and overlooked a small walled and formal garden—its trimmed yews and small polished bench looking very damp in the misting rain.

“Before we get started, I need to provide you with several things.” He extended a small case, no more than six centimeters on a side and half that in depth.

“You’re assuming I’m going to do something.”

He shook his head. “I’m certain that there are dozens of tracker nanites around you. You fasten that to your waistband or put it in a pocket, and in a few minutes, all of the trackers will be disabled. I’d strongly suggest you take it, if you don’t want the PST types to do you in like your sister.” His smile was crooked, but he was almost certainly telling the truth. “It works better if you turn off the body-screen for the first few minutes.”

Nyhal wore a nanite body-screen. So did I. Body-screens had some usefulness—they’d stop most projectile weapons, and mitigate or stop a laser—depending on the power output. They were designed to respond to kinetic energy, and that meant I or Nyhal could be wrestled to the ground, and that we were certainly vulnerable to pathogens and nanites—or specialized low energy weapons like filament knives.

I took the box and put my shield on stand-by, but just for three minutes.

My older-looking norm contemporary studied me for a long moment. “Elysa said you didn’t get any of my messages.”

“No. At least not directly. I got a message from Elora, suggesting I contact you. She’d set it up before she died. I also had several blank incomings. That was why I had Majora call you…and why she tried never to mention my name directly.”

“That was wise.” He sat slowly in one of the ebony chairs on one side of the table. “Sit down, if you would.”

“Eldyn…could you please just tell me what exactly is going on. I think I’ve figured out the general outlines.”

He offered another crooked smile. “Despite all the slights and slings of fortune, and the ungratefulness of your peers, I’m trying to hold the Federal Union together—in the way in which it was designed. Your sister was trying to help me. Some wealthy pre-selects, call them the PST group—want to change the Union and have proven that they’ll do anything to succeed.”

The scent similar to jasmine rose around me. I couldn’t help wincing. “Now what? Another set of nanites to send me into shock? Your little helpers?”

“Hardly.” He laughed once, harshly. “Mer—you know her as Elysa—she could have done that if I’d wanted that. You’re going to need those if you want to function.” He paused. “I hate to ask this, but do you care for the woman who called me?”

“Yes.” The answer was a lot more complicated than that, but “yes” was more than accurate.

“Have you been sleeping with her recently?”

“What—”

“Or hugged her or held her close?”

“Once or twice.”

“Let’s hope that’s enough.” He nodded briskly. “There’s a lot to cover.”

“Wait—”

“There’s a lot to cover,” he repeated. “You already had resistant nanites. They tend to spread to others close to you, but this last dosage was to make sure you don’t get slowed down immediately. You have much to do. Or you could, if you’re interested. Now…as you surmised, there is a revolution in progress. The attempts to use the PIAT as a screening tool are just part of that. The other and more dangerous aspect of the PIAT is that you can use those same techniques to assess and, shall we say, assist conformity and loyalty. That’s been part of the literature for years, but never really considered. It is one reason why past secretary directors quietly disabused any use of perceptual testing as a requirement for any office or educational assessment.”

“If people weren’t trying to kill me…I still have troubles with this conspiracy theory,” I said slowly. “And revolutions. I don’t see any wide-scale uprisings.”

“Successful revolutions aren’t led by the masses.” Nyhal snorted. “They’re led by the discontented elite who exploit the discontents of others. Every successful revolution has been led and masterminded by those who have been or could have been part of the previous power structure. You don’t like your own brother that much, and he’s better than most of them.” Eldyn’s watery eyes seemed to glitter for a moment.

“Most of whom?”

“The pre-select elite.”

“You’re certainly a part of that elite,” I pointed out.

“I’m a half-accepted norm with freak genes.” He smiled. “And I’m not a revolutionary. I’m the counter-revolutionary. So are you. You’re going to be the true mastermind of the counter-revolution.”

“Talking about a counter-revolution…” I shook my head. “I’ve never wanted anything to do with power. Why would I now?” As the body-shield returned to a full active power state, I felt slightly less apprehensive.

“To stay alive. To retain your family’s heritage. And as for power, you’ve never wanted anything to do with power the way your family has handled it. You’re going to take over UniComm, and you’re quietly going to change the entire world, and because you’re almost a martyr…because you’re perceived as a man who served mankind, and who spoke up and was attacked…why…no one will dare say a thing….” He laughed, the laugh rising, not quite into shrillness. “That’s the way we’d like it. That’s not what will happen, but you do have a chance.”

“We’re missing a few steps here….” More than a few. While watching Eldyn, I was still trying to scan his reactions and be alert for any outside surprises. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

“I need to tell you a story, Daryn. You’re an edartist…you should appreciate it.” He lifted a blocky weapon from under the table. “This is an ancient flare gun.” He gestured with the obsolete weapon. “It’s just weak enough to slide under a body shield. I wouldn’t bring it up, but you’re not going to like everything I’m going to tell you, and you do need to hear it all. Yes, you do.”

“Oh.” I managed not to swallow. The man with the answers also had a flare gun pointed at me, and he was insisting he was on my side. I was having strong doubts about Eldyn, but I had no doubts that I didn’t want to test my systems against the gun, and that meant I was going to hear more—whether I wanted to and whether he would actually answer all my questions. Certainly, no one had yet.

“You remember the scare about the pre-select plague? You remember that almost fifteen thousand pre-selects died?”

“I was off-planet.”

“You would have died, too. All of you would have.” He peered at me.

“I heard it was bad.”

“That’s like saying nanites are small.” Eldyn snorted again. “I saved every one of you. Every one of you, and what did I get? A letter from the secretary director, and a one-year ten percent salary bonus. Ten percent. Thank you very much, but you’re really not one of us, and ten percent is more than you deserve.” The smile broadened. “Even after reading my reports, they didn’t know. The idiots still didn’t get it.”

“I guess I’m an idiot, too, Eldyn.” I tried to make my tone apologetic. “I’m very grateful to be alive.”

“Oh…don’t condescend to me, Daryn.” He offered that not-quite-high laugh again. “But you should know. I was the one who figured it out. It was right in front of them, and they still couldn’t see it. You know the forerunner Gates aren’t dead. They’re just not used often. We’re at the end of a transgalactic net, the slums…call it what you will.” He laughed once more, that same laugh that was cutting across my nerves like a filament knife.

The forerunner Gates? The medallions he wore—they were probably all octagonal. My eyes flicked toward the dull gray on his chest.

“You see? You’re not like the rest.” He smiled. “One hint, and you can see. The others, they won’t see. They can’t see that the forerunners don’t want us playing with our genes….”

“How would they know?” There couldn’t have been any two way communications.

“They don’t…or they didn’t. The octagonal nanites are just programmed…cellular machines designed to analyze structures and react. If the cells aren’t integral, or if there’s foreign matter there, like augnites…they attack.”

A long-dead alien race programming nanitic attack machines and spraying them across the Galaxy? Nyhal had definitely lost touch with reality—delusions of evil aliens, and a savior complex as well, and an obsolete weapon.

“I know you have to be upset…with the death of your wife….”

“You think I’ve lost it, don’t you, Daryn? Don’t patronize me. I haven’t lost it. Not at all. You can check the records.” He shook his head, and his voice dropped. “The octanites—that’s what I call them—they detect what doesn’t belong. I told the secretary director that. He didn’t believe me.”

I didn’t either.

“Those little octagonal nanites…the ones that Elysa sprayed you with…you almost died, but not because of the spray, but because of the treatment. Even for me some of it was a guess…that’s why I had to have it done again….”

“Again?”

“The laseflash…you remember…don’t you?”

“But that was set up before…”

“Of course it was. I know Kharl. He’s very bright. Not quite so bright as me…but very bright and most thorough. There was a chance, with his access, that he might have decided otherwise and tried to neutralize them. The laseflash was for three purposes. I wanted the PST group to think someone else was after you…to make them re-think their strategy. I also wanted your visibility higher. They were thinking you could be removed quietly, and your stock would go to your father or brother. That would have preempted Elora’s bid for control of UniComm.”

A lot of what Eldyn was saying didn’t ring quite true, but some did, and I kept listening, trying to sort it all out.

“What does this all have to do with the forerunner Gates? The forerunner Gates are monitoring ports as well. They monitor and send their own nanites to record and monitor all over the Galaxy. Time doesn’t matter that much to them, and their nanites are quite sophisticated, quite a marvel, really. I learned much from them.”

“No one has seen one of their Gates in operation—except once—maybe—from a distance.”

Nyhal just shrugged apologetically. “We don’t have time to debate everything. Please listen and save your questions. They dropped nanites on Earth…with ice comets, I would judge…they might even have been waiting centuries…millennia…for us to develop augmentation. Those nanites are designed to undo augmentation. Without the effects of pre-selection and augmentation, evolutionary diversity will create a wider range of humanity, and a race slightly less focused on abstractions and conquest. These forerunners, or aliens, well…like so many in our own culture, they’ve underestimated our cleverness. We beat the pre-select plague, and now there are teams of nanitists that have taken apart those little bugs and studied them every way possible.”