Transformation Space (34 page)

Djes nudged him. ‘Trinder? What’s that?’

He stood up. From the east came the sound of rushing wind.

Other heads lifted; bodies stiffened.

Trin craned his neck skyward, searching for the source. Fear spiked through him. ‘Take cover!’

The survivors picked up their food shells and hastened to their caves, staying close to the mouths so they could still see
out.

‘There!’ Joe Scali pointed east, just above the treeline.

Trin saw the shadows in the sky, like giant moths given dim outline by Tiesha’s glow and the backdrop carpet of satellites.

‘AiVs,’ said someone.

‘No!’ Randall laughed and walked out into the open. Trin couldn’t see her face, but her voice was filled with sudden energy.
‘Biozoons. Crux-damned biozoons.’

The shadows passed over the mountain crest and swept on out to sea.

‘They’ve missed us!’ Josefia Genarro exclaimed.

Others joined in her cry of disappointment.

‘No.’ Randall again. This time she turned and walked straight back up to Trin. ‘They’ll have to land down on the beach, in
the water. You got someone who can show me the quickest way down?’

Trin hesitated. ‘Who would be in the biozoons? Why would they come here?’

‘Not sure who the second is, but one of them’s got to be Fedor. We picked up a ’cast back on Pell, her ’zoon’s signature from
orbit. Not sure how the hell she made it down here without getting banged up, but I warrant it’s her, and that she’s come
for us.’

Trin stared back into the sky with disbelief.
Mira Fedor
.

Mira started awake as a hand touched her shoulder. Tekton had disengaged from his nub and was standing next to her.

‘Baronessa, I would speak with you privately,’ he whispered.

She blinked and looked around the buccal. Josef was still in Autonomy, eyes closed and flickering with dreamsleep. Tapping
the nub to release her, she got to her feet. Sleep had refreshed her enough that she was now hungry. ‘Would there be food?’

‘I have hoarded some in my cabin. If you would accompany me there, I have something of the utmost importance to show you.’

Mira regarded the man. She’d heard little of Tekton of Lostol that would recommend him as trustworthy, and yet right at this
moment he seemed as sincere as any ’esque could be.

‘What is the nature of the thing you would show me?’ she asked.

‘It is … without meaning to sound grandiose … a matter of our survival.’

She nodded.

As they made their way along the strata to Tekton’s cabin, Mira was again pained by what she saw – the piles of rubbish and
the unhealthy smell of rot. The
corporeals, Jancz and Ilke, had not cared for the hybrid at all.

Not surprising, she thought, given what they were. Wanton had been correct when it had said that Hosts could be humanesque,
and yet she had not quite believed the little Extro.

‘The biozoon is sick,’ she said.

‘Yes.’ Tekton stopped in front of a ridged door and pressed the pucker. It opened sluggishly.

Inside, the room was similar to
Insignia
’s cabins, save for the grey tinge to the walls and small pools of biozoon secretion in the corners. There were no furnishings
other than the bed, on which lay a small dark box.

Mira paused just inside the pucker and waited for Tekton to speak.

He pointed at the box. ‘Do you know what that is, Baronessa?’

She regarded the innocuous object, wondering why the sight of it filled her with dread. Finally, she shook her head.

‘I … borrowed it from Lasper Farr after he tried to have me murdered. At the time I thought it would be both a fine revenge
and a useful appendage. That’s all. But now, having spent many hours between Intel station and here learning its nuances,
I’m not sure that my choice was the most judicious.’

Mira’s eyes widened a little. ‘You stole something from Commander Farr?’

‘Yes. While you were making your pronouncements of impending doom on Intel, I was busy ransacking his cabin. But that is far
from the point I would make. Do you know what this does?’

She shook her head again.

‘It is called a bifurcation or Dynamic System Device, a fascinating object that has only, until this was created, been theorised
about.’

Mira frowned, recalling the encounter with Commander Farr at the trade faire. Josef Rasterovich had fallen into a deep trance-like
state and then collapsed on the floor of the tent after immersion in Farr’s virtual world. He’d spoken little of his experience
to them, other than to curse the Commander.

‘I have heard something of such theories. The idea is to predict things,’ she said.

‘That is a most simplistic explanation of its capabilities. It’s fed by information, collected and delivered to the device’s
astounding – unbelievable – processing capability. Skilled interaction with the DSD will enable you to view possible outcomes
of events, but it will also allow the user to locate optimum points at which changes might be made to affect those outcomes.’

‘To change life?’

‘More precisely, to create new outcomes. Acting at those points is essential to the change. Attempting to make alterations
at a less than optimum point will amount to nothing more than a clustering and local disturbance. The outcomes will remain
the same.’

He picked up a juice container and sipped from it. Then he rummaged in a crate on the bedside table and produced another one,
which he offered to Mira.

She saw that the seal was intact and took it. The sweet tepid liquid eased her dry throat.

‘Here.’ He passed her a small carton of dry biscuits and sank onto the bed next to the box. ‘After spending
much time observing Orion’s future with the device, I have learned that there are few outcomes from the Post-Species invasion
of OLOSS that don’t end in the destruction of all the humanesque and alien species.’ He sagged further until his body appeared
almost folded upon itself. ‘In fact, Baronessa, there is only one.’

She waited again, nibbling the biscuits as he sought to convey what he knew.

‘Excuse my bluntness, but time is a factor. You see, the optimum point for averting the destruction of our species, Baronessa,
is nearly upon us, and involves you.’

‘Me?’ Mira stepped back against the pucker.

‘You and your newborn child, who I believe is aboard your biozoon, and the man piloting this ship.’

‘Josef?’

‘Yes. Josef Rasterovich.’ Tekton’s face crumpled into a kind of disgust. ‘I’ve seen the point of change, and the three of
you must be there.’

‘W-what must w-we do?’

‘It is unclear to me exactly what you should do, only that you must be there. It would be best if I showed you. Have you heard
of the Sole Entity?’

‘Si.’

‘You know then that I was one of its tyros?’

‘Si.’

‘The device has shown me that the Entity has left the space around Belle-Monde, and has been travelling throughout Orion to
the areas of destruction.’

‘What is it doing?’

‘I could not be sure. But I am not convinced, now, that its purpose is entirely benign. I do however think that it has a curious
way about it. It has given us a
chance to manage our own affairs by giving us this gift.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come, Baronessa, and see what I mean.’

Mira hesitated, unsure that she liked the desperate light in the Godhead’s eyes. He seemed a little … disturbed, though lucid
enough with it.

Mama?

Si, Nova.

You must listen to him, and see.

Why do you say that?

You must trust me, Mama. Even if you don’t trust him.
Mira took a deep breath. ‘Where would you have me stand? And how do I watch?’

Tekton smiled and patted the bed. ‘No need to stand, Baronessa. In fact, best not to.’

Mira’s immersion was intense, but not painful like her early days of bonding with
Insignia
had been. She let Tekton’s voice guide her through the streams of images. His narration became an anchor in a sea of horror
and destruction.

Her connection to the Post-Species invasion was more vivid and visceral than anything she’d seen on farcast. The dust of imploded
worlds seemed to coat her, the screams of the dying twisted her stomach, and the dryness of the solar winds parched her mouth.
She was there, witnessing the end of family dynasties, the disfiguration of whole planetary systems, the sudden and profound
snuffing out of billions and billions of lives.

The scale of annihilation became incomprehensible, and yet among it she saw faint shafts of hope. Many systems had closed
their shift spheres. Some
might never reopen, while others would do so to find Geni-carriers still waiting. Non-Corporeal Post-Species had no age, no
limit on patience, no need to find other distractions. They would wait, and they would kill.

‘They must never reopen their shift spheres,’ she whispered.

‘There is another way,’ said Tekton. ‘Come.’

He guided her in deeper. She saw images of herself, scenes that had already played out: sitting at a table with Bethany Ionil
and Josef at the trade faire on Edo, riding in the taxi with Thales, the markets on Rho Junction, being enveloped by a crowd
of siphonophores …

‘Now we move forward,’ said Tekton. ‘Commands can be given sub-vocally or using micro-expressions, the same way most virtuals
interact.’

Mira tried using a combination of both to slow the image flow. After several tries she became accustomed to it. It was much
clumsier than her mind bond with
Insignia
, but effective enough.

All the while, she followed Tekton’s crisp monologue on how to follow the pathways of projected futures, making great leaps
in time like an all-powerful god.

She saw many different paths leading to one result: the rise of the Post-Species consciousness and the end of humanesque-
and alien-kind.

‘Did Commander Farr know this?’ she asked Tekton.

‘I expect so.’

‘How far forward can the device forecast? Is it infinite?’

‘I’ve explored that question a little, and strangely it is not. There is a point at which the information stops
propagating. Not an end but more like an invisible wall – a barrier between us and what comes next.’

Mira might have found Tekton’s answer fanciful at any other time, but not now, not with what she had seen. The device itself
was remarkable – and frighteningly powerful.

Suddenly, she wanted to disengage from it. Get away. Toss it into the void. No person should have such potential at their
beck and call, least of all a selfish academic or a mercenary leader. Neither Farr nor Tekton, nor even she, was safe with
its powers. She wanted to tell Tekton how she felt, but he kept on talking.

‘If we take a different perspective on the information streams, you can see the potential change nodes, the points at which
optimum change can be effected, the point at which
you
must be present.’

Her virtual landscape changed to the impression of a chaotic spinning knot. She could hardly breathe, wondering what it represented.

‘Shall we look, Baronessa?’

Mama. You must.
Nova had been quiet throughout, but now she sent another urgent thought. With it, her

child sent her a sense of confidence and inevitability. ‘I must,’ said Mira. ‘I must.’

They came for him sooner than even Hob or Sammy could have guessed. The lights flared, disturbing their slumber, and guards
dragged him from his bunk soon after he’d returned to it.

Miranda and Jise roused enough to make a faint protest, but Sammy and Hob simply watched. Connit never stirred.

They marched him through the convoluted corridors of the ship to the transport lock. Farr was waiting on the station side
of the hatch, speaking with a harassed official. Ra was with him, and a huge teranu with a fleshy face and broad shoulders
that he had to compress to fit in the narrow tube. Petalu Mau.

‘Balbao.’ The Godhead nodded.

‘What am I doing here?’ snarled Balbao.

‘I need your assistance,’ said Ra.

‘For what?’

Ra ignored him, focusing back on Farr’s conversation with the official. As Sammy had guessed, the Commander was trying to
get access to the station information node.

‘Our IN’s in lockdown, Commander,’ said the ’esque. ‘The Sophos have restricted access.’

‘Mau,’ said Farr.

The huge teranu grabbed the ’esque by the tunic and lifted him off his feet, shaking him.

Farr folded his arms. ‘Unrestrict it.’

The official paled and nodded.

Petalu Mau dropped him to the floor and gave him a shove.

The terrified official hurried forward. Mau followed him with Farr striding on Mau’s heels. He didn’t bother to acknowledge
Balbao’s presence, and his soldiers nudged Ra and Balbao along quickly to keep up.

The station was chaotic and at capacity, bodies crowding every standing space. It seemed to Balbao that everyone there was
either arguing or pleading with someone else.

Getting to the information node became a nightmare of mini-confrontations between Petalu Mau and Farr’s soldiers, and those
in their way. The red robes of the Scolar police punctuated the milling throng, but even they only seemed to be able to contain
pockets of the confusion.

Scolar station was close to anarchy. Balbao saw it in the aggressive stares; felt it in the undercurrent of panic. Everyone
wanted off, but the planet-transit ships were backlogged, and the sphere itself could only process at a certain speed. Farr
must have used extreme coercion to get docking permission.

The IN entrance was guarded by a contingent of four tired station security guards. Farr ordered several his of soldiers to
stay with them and the rest to accompany him inside.

Balbao followed Ra and the others into the darkened chamber. The smell of sweat and the whirr of fans assailed his senses,
twenty or more data dispersal technicians working on top of each other.