Watson, Ian - Novel 06 (30 page)

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THIRTY-NINE

 

 
          
But it is
a sword which ceases to exist
with every quantum moment, then re-exists as the flux of being breathes in and
out...

 

 
          
We
imagine its existence elsewhere across the sands.

 
          
Displacing
air with a sharp pop, it falls glittering in the distance.

 
          
Samti-menVao
gapes at his empty hand, and howls. Be kind to him. We simply imagine him a
little further away. A hundred metres downslope he stares about him,
stunned—then he takes to his heels.

 
          
We
reach out to clasp Rent’s hand, and touch Zoe’s mind. She brushes against us
within, delighted if puzzled.

 
          
We
break through the veil in her. We show her: the Harxine, the Veil Being, her
hypnosis forestalled by it.

 
          
Her
chagrin is huge.

 
          
Through
her, Rene knows too.

 
          
“What
do we do?” he whispers.

 
          
“We’ve
tamed part of it, Ren6. We’ve protected ourselves. We have its power now,
without the penalties.”

 
          
“You
may be protected!”

 
          
“We
can protect you as well, Rene-menZoe.”

 
          
“What
about Ritchie? He hasn’t been—”

 
          
“Transfigured,
no.” Heinz’s word:
Verklarung.

 
          
“Will
someone tell me what the hell’s going on?” bursts out Ritchie.

 
          
—Can
we show my little pigeon the memories that he showed us in Heaven? (wonders
Wu.)

 
          
—Why
not use the God bottle as a crystal ball? (suggests Peter.)

 
          
—Yes,
it’s a power source, isn’t it, my shaman? A High Space kernel under our
control.

           
The God bottle behaves just as we
require it too . . .

 
          
—I
do like him. Really.

           
—I had a way with pigeons once . . .
(chuckles Franz.)

 
          
—Well,
you can’t catapult Ritchie out of this!

 
          
“I
guess I was right about the gas giant.” Ritchie slaps his brow. “It
is
alive.”

 
          
“Not
in the ordinary way. It’s alive through us and the Getkans and any other aliens
it infests. It exists in an intermediate zone in the circuit between reality
and ... ‘God’.”

 
          
“Doesn’t
it still need the gas giant as a physical bridgehead? Its base? Its lens to
look through? Hell, how do I know? It may do. All that the Harxine and their
insect troops need to do to find out is wipe out something the size of Saturn.
I don’t think that’s quite in their league.”

 
          

Can't
we catapult Ritchie and Ren6 out
of here? (wonders Franz.) If we could re-imagine Samti somewhere else . . .
does the distance matter? We hold High Space in our hands, don’t we? We can
imagine ourselves elsewhere, and them too! There’s a hypnotic vector from you
to Kamasarin, Amy. Look at it. Examine it.

 
          
We
do look. Personally, my Amy-self doesn’t see it. But those who enclose my
Amy-self see it.

 
          
—I’m
still partly glued to
Pilgrim
, too.
And we’re all part of each other in memory-space.

 
          
—This
time (announces Wu proudly) we shall take our body along on the out-of-the-body
ride. There’s only one possible physical destination: on board the real
Pilgrim
in present time.

 
          
—The
Harxine will assume it’s an attack (frets Peter.) The Group-ones will start
their killing.

 
          
—Ha!
(pounces Franz.) And how did we snatch that sword away from Samti? I can handle
anything that moves.

 
          
—Braggart
(laughs Peter.) You couldn’t handle Amy.

 
          
—This
is different. Don’t you
seel

 
          
And
we do see, within.

 
          
“Listen,
Ritchie. We’re going to get you out of here. And you too, Rene-menZoe. We’re
going to transfer all of us to
Pilgrim.
We
can do it! But when we get there, whatever happens don’t move. If the
Group-ones jump you—and they will!—we’ll shift them the way we shifted Samti
and his sword.” We stick the God-bottle in our jump-suit pocket. “Hold hands,
in a line.”

           
We are three witches, about to dance
a jig.

 
          
—The
million mile journey begins
and ends
with a single step! This step, now ...

 
          
The
world shifts.

 
          
Control
deck! The prisoners, laid out in their trance, an insectoid poised over every
one of them ...

           
Almost immediately, each guard
lunges at its prisoner, sawtooth arms agape. Almost immediately isn’t soon
enough. Our Franz acts faster than reflex, fast as seeing.

 
          
We
quantize their attack. We decree that one quantum moment of time shall recreate
itself time and again for them. Our Franz holds them tethered tighter than if
he held seven leashes. They’re frozen.

 
          
Other
Group-ones are in sight. He stills them too.

 
          
“Can
you hear us, Harxine? This isn’t an attack. Don’t act rashly. We’re free of the
Veil Being. We need to talk to you.”

 
          
A
cathode screen lights up.

 
          
We do not act rashly, merely rapidly as is
proper for machine intelligences whose responses require nanoseconds.’ —They’re
offended! (chuckles Peter.) We cannot understand how you have stopped our
Group-ones from acting. Is this not an attack?'

           
“We’re re-imagining your Group-ones
in the same quantum moment.”

 
          
‘This must be explained.’

           
“It will be. I’m Amy Dove, Harxine—”

 
          
‘Identified. Your hypnosis was interrupted
by rupture of memory) dream space. Did it succeed nevertheless?’

           
—It wouldn’t have succeeded but for
Franz and Wu (admits our Peter.) We two together, Amy, would have behaved like
Rene-menZoe. Bliss and False Heaven.

 
          
—Perhaps,
perhaps not (allows our Franz generously.)

 
          
“We’re
a new kind of being, Harxine. A quartet being—a hypermind. Ren6 is the ordinary
. . . transfiguration product of God’s World: a dyad of living Rene and dead
Zoe. We’re screening him from the Veil Being. Ritchie is no threat. He’s still
ordinary.”

           
“Gee, thanks! I’ve got a guardian
angel, though. Eh, Wu? Somewhere in you.”

 
          
—My
little pigeon.

 
          
—Keep
the billing and cooings for later, hmm? (teases our Franz.)

 
          
“We’re
something new. And we know what the Veil Being is, Harxine. It has its origin
in the gas giant itself. It grew from there into High Space, and only
subsequently invaded Low Space. We’ve captured a portion of its being, and
tamed it. Here.” Amy’s hand flourishes the God bottle.

 
          
—Hijacker
brandishing grenade! (warns Wu.)

 
          
“It’s
sealed. Don’t worry.”

 
          
‘Machine intelligences do not worry, Amy
Dove' (—Oh no?) ‘If our Group-ones killed you, would that portion of the Veil
Being break free?'

           
“They can’t kill us. But we don’t
wish to sound like blackmailers, Harxine. We’re on the same side as you,
remember.”
‘Machine intelligences
—’

           
“—always remember. Okay, point
taken.”

 
          
—We
may be an immortal being (hints Peter.)

 
          
—Till
we choose
not
to be (retorts Franz.)

 
          
—Which
we can choose once we’ve done our duty (Wu assures him.)

 
          
(“This
is a mortal body, folks.”)

 
          
—A
body, dear, which is being re-imagined from moment to moment. Why not renewed
as well? Refreshed? We can do it. I’m not sure that we aren’t doing it already.

 
          
(“Then
our love will never fade and wither, eh?”)

 
          
—Och.

 
          
—Immortality
is a snare (warns Franz, of course.)

 
          
“All
you need do, Harxine,” chips in Ritchie, “is destroy the gas giant then
stabilise its moons in new orbits round the sun, and you’re home and dry.”

 
          
‘Is this a serious proposal? It would
require several hundred years and enormous effort There would have to be no
interference from the Veil Being.
9

           
“We can discuss tactics once you’ve
freed our friends.”

 
          
The
Harxine decide, as promised, in nanoseconds.

 
          
‘Accepted! Relax your hold, and our
Group-ones will wake your friends. We have prosthetic control implants in all
Group- ones. Already we are transmitting a continuous signal ordering them to
assist you. '

           
“They still look ready to attack/'
says Ritchie.

           

Because
you hold them so. This is a time for trust. We Harxine sustain life. Death has
its rightful place, but not here
t
not now.”

           
“You're going to feel one almighty
sorrow if you knock out the Veil Being, then!" says Ritchie. “Because
billions of dead souls who are still alive in it are all going to go whoosh at
once.”

 
          
—Death
has its place (echoes our Franz.) It's only right that they should die a proper
death, a full death. TheyTe only in limbo, and their worlds are eroding.

 
          
'You have powers that we do riot have, Amy
Dove. If you need redundant confirmation: we are transmitting to our Group-ones
now; no Group-one will harm any human’

           
(“Let the dogs loose, Franz!")

           
The poised Group-ones do not rend or
tear. Instead, with their pincers they begin snipping away, swiftly but gently,
at the tangle of cables, tubes and wires tethering those paralysed bodies.

 
          
The
first person to be set free is Captain K.

 
          
He
stares in momentary perplexity at the three of us. Of course, for we’re all
clad in golden down . ..

 
          
And
now he roars out some Mongolian wrestler's cheer.

 

 
          
“You’ve
won!" he beams. “Oh for a bowl of
kumiss
to reward you with! “

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