Rhythm of the Imperium - eARC Page 16

  “My goodness,” she said. “It’s so . . . primal!”

  At that moment, we snaked around a curve in the raspy-textured passageway, a silver-white glow suffused the surrounding stone, and the primitive centers of my brain all bowed down in awe.

  “Here it is!” Laine announced. She let go of my hand and stood aside to make room for us to approach.

  Indeed, we had encountered A Presence. The Zang was surrounded by so much sensation that it was difficult to look at it. Unlike anyone I had ever met before, I had the impression of a personality in advance of a physical one. The notion fascinated me so much that I stood drinking in the waves of force that struck me and passed through me. I felt as though I could hear distant voices calling over the crackling of nebular energy and the whoosh of solar winds.

  In a way I could not have expressed easily in words, I had the sense that Proton Zang was ancient beyond anything that I had thought a living being could be. It was charming and avuncular, and I knew I could not fool it in the slightest by any posturing or appearance I could muster. I would have to strive to be as real as possible to be worthy of its acquaintance.

  I became aware of eyes like eternal pools, deep and silver, set into its side among vertical crenellations. I willed them to turn toward me. The massive torso shifted. I felt a thrill go through me. Would they stop on me? What would I do if it noticed me? How should I respond?

  Instead, the glowing gaze traveled beyond my upturned and hopeful face, and stopped on Laine. It had not noticed me or my companions at all.

  An emotional impulse rather than words formed in my mind. She is special.

  I know, I thought out at it, filled with sudden and overwhelming affection toward Dr. Derrida. She is!

  I became aware of a moment of scrutiny like a gigantic burst of energy as a wisp, a thread, a particle, of Proton’s consciousness touched me. It swiftly passed away, leaving me almost breathless. We had shared a moment. I was enchanted.

  Redius looked suddenly uncomfortable. He gasped for air and felt for the wall of the canyon to lean upon.

  “Scanning,” he said.

  “More than scanning, wouldn’t you say?” I asked, wryly. “It took us, wrung out the interesting parts, and left the husks. I’ve never felt anything like that. Have you?”

  “No! Nor would again!”

  “I’m afraid this is just the beginning,” I said. “It’s coming with us all the way to the platform.”

  Redius narrowed his eyes. He made himself slow his breathing.

  “I know. Struggling.”

  Laine leaned toward the Zang. I admired the way she seemed entirely comfortable beside this awe-inspiring being.

  “Our contacts from the human ship have arrived.” She was doing more than talking. Somehow, she was conveying information to the Zang through force of will.

  Fighting the impulse to flee the intensity of its reality, I moved around to the eyes to which Laine had addressed her remarks, and bowed deeply. It did not repeat the pulse that I had felt. I was a little disappointed. I had hoped that it would learn to notice me as it did her.

  In a sense, its indifference was a relief. It gave me a respite during which I could study it more closely without feeling my own unimportance.

  At a distance, it would have appeared to be a ridged, upright cylinder, narrowing slightly from its base to its top. In color, it seemed to be a pearly gray with a dash of the kind of pure blue one saw in glacier ice. If I had had to make a simile between it and anything in my personal experience, it would be as though an ancient tree trunk cut off at eight or nine feet at an angle had been petrified and replaced with moonstone instead of opal. I could not help but be struck by its beauty as well as the impression of age. No, more than age. Eternity. Yes. At once I began to re-choreograph my welcome dance, and wished Parsons was present so I could obtain permission to perform it.

  “Would you like to go to our ship now?” I asked Laine. “Our transport is waiting at the edge of the park.”

  Professor Derrida studied her companion. I felt the brush of energy pass by me toward her again.

  “Not yet,” Laine said. She drew us away from the Zang to the other side of the stone passage. “It is gathering impressions.”

  “What a coincidence,” I said, immediately feeling a minor kinship to this fantastic being. I turned to the Zang. “I am a student of interpretive dance. Madame Deirdre,” I indicated the lady, “is my teacher. I wanted to gain some insights on this very Earthlike planet.” Deirdre curtseyed gracefully. The Zang noticed neither of us.

  “Yes, I admired your impromptu dance a lot,” Laine said, her warm amber eyes fixing on me. “It was terribly sad. I would love to see one of your formal performances.”

  “I would be delighted,” I said, then I glanced toward the Zang and remembered my promise to Parsons. “Later on. Join me for dinner.”

  “Thank you,” she said, looking up at me with interest. “I’d enjoy that!”

  “I look forward to introducing you to my cousins,” I continued. I was aware that my outpouring bordered on babbling, but I couldn’t stem the spate of words. “They will have so many questions for you about the Zang.”

  “I’ll be happy to answer anything I can!” Laine laughed, in a register that I fancied annoyed dogs for miles in all directions.

  “And I will perform for them, as well. I have been gathering some very interesting impressions of Counterweight that I wish to share with my cousins.”

  She laughed again, showing very white teeth behind her rosebud lips. “I would love to see them! Proton has been doing very much the same thing. It would be interesting to compare your observations.”

  “No doubt,” I said. I frowned. “But how will I know what it is thinking?”

  “I’ll give you its impressions. That’s all I ever get.” Laine smiled at me. I melted in the warmth of her regard. It would be my pleasure to travel with her, as long as fate allowed.

  “Look out!”

  A voice echoed throughout the chasm. I glanced up to see one of the immense hanging stones hurtling down on us. In horror, I realized it was falling directly toward the Zang. Without regard for my own safety, I threw myself at it.

  I touched an impossibly cold column of air, then I hurtled against the cliff face, scraping my palms and barking the toes of my boots. In the next moment, a body landed on top of mine just as a multi-ton chunk of rock impacted into the ground behind us. An immense crack sounded. I fought to get free, fearing that I had missed my rescue, and the sound had issued from the Zang’s exoskeleton being crushed.

  Redius rose, brushing sand and stone fragments from his robe. He pulled me upright. A cloud of dust enveloped us both. I coughed, expelling a kilogram or so of gravel from my lungs.

  “Sorry!” a voice echoed down to us from the heights. A young man in casual clothes waved, an embarrassed and worried look on his face. Hovering park rangerbots enameled in khaki surrounded him and escorted him away from the edge. I heard them reading him his rights.

  “Intact?” Redius asked me.

  “Yes!” I said. I examined my palms. They were only scraped. “Is the Zang all right?”

  I turned, with some difficulty, finding myself ankle-deep in freshly crushed gravel and pebbles. The fallen stone, now broken in half, filled most of the narrow passage in which we had been standing. The Zang stood some ten meters away, looking serenely uninvolved and intact.

  “Stone fell through,” Redius explained.

  “Did it?” I asked. “Do you mean it is insubstantial?”

  “Or disbelieved stone’s solidity.” He dropped his jaw in a smile. “Predates it?”

  Laine scrambled up and over the enormous rock. She gathered her full skirts in her hand as she climbed down on our side, showing a glimpse of a delightfully well-turned ankle.

  “Are you all right? That was very brave of you.”

  “I thought the stone would crush it,” I said.

  She laughed. “Proton is pretty much impe
rvious to harm, but I appreciate that you tried to save its life. I’ll remember that. So will Proton.”

  “Really?” I asked, forgetting my new bruises in a moment. I glanced toward the Zang, but it showed no difference in posture or attitude to indicate that I was now any more real than before, but I took Laine’s assurance as a success of sorts. “I am grateful to have served in any small way.”

  She gave me a smile that melted me with its warmth. No accolade could have been more rewarding. She reached out to take my hand again in her small fingers. Then, she glanced back over her shoulder at the blue-white column.

  “I think it’s ready to go now. Where did you say your transport is waiting?”

  CHAPTER 14

  “As a result of Kail action, we have lost the services of an agent, but gained insight into a potential catastrophe,” Parsons said, pulling up the last of the images of the Kail that had been stored on the chip he had obtained in the salon, and displayed it to the officers gathered in Captain Wold’s ready room. He had inserted it into a portable player that was not attached in any way to the ship’s Infogrid system. The captains from the escort ships, present once again as holograms, had been warned to accept video and audio only, with no sideband transmissions that could carry tainted code to their own systems. He had no intention of wasting Bokie’s sacrifice.

  “May we know the name of this agent?” Captain Wold said. Xe drew on a bright orange nic-tube clenched in xir small and even teeth. Parsons deplored such a habit, but could understand the need for the relaxing qualities of the drug. His report had the potential to overwhelm all the listeners with stress.

  “I am sorry, Captain,” Parsons said. “Even in death, revealing the name of Covert Services operatives could put others at risk.”

  Wold nodded. “I wasn’t trying to pry. I would celebrate xir courage.”

  “Thank you. I will see that your sympathy is passed along through . . . appropriate channels.” Parsons could not explain that the bereaved were all LAIs who were attached through the Infogrid and were already aware of the gap in their numbers. “Let us instead concentrate upon the data that the agent provided. The infiltration that we detected earlier has been detected on a greater scale than we knew. The entire planet is affected.”

  “But what are we going to do?” asked Captain Colwege, spreading his thick fingers in appeal. He was present only from the waist up. “We can’t shut off contact with Counterweight indefinitely. We all need to maintain communications with the fleet. The Admiralty office is demanding answers about the shutoff.”

  “I have sent a copy of this report through other channels, captain,” Parsons said. “The message will deteriorate as soon as it passes each gate in turn, thereby leaving no trace for the virus program to detect. It will be passed along to the First Space Lord personally within minutes of arrival. She will be informed, and will take appropriate action.”

  Lopez sat back against a chair that was invisible to those in the Jaunter’s ready room. “That’s a relief. She’s a stickler.”

  “Yes, captain,” Parsons said. “I do not need to stress that it is necessary to protect all ships in the Imperium Navy, as well as all other vessels in space, from the Kail’s intrusion. It is not only the Kail of whom we must be wary. We do not believe that they could have accomplished this coup without the assistance of LAI personnel.”

  “Traitors in the ranks?” Colwege asked, lowering mighty, white brows down over flashing eyes. “That’s outrageous! Our own crew, informing upon us?”

  Parsons shook his head very slightly, inflaming some of the muscles that had been abused.

  “It is believed by my late contact that few of the artificial intelligences are involved willingly, but there is no way to determine how many or how deeply without questioning them with the cooperation of our own LAIs. Unfortunately, each contact risks turning friendly electronic personnel into carriers of the command code, and thereby conveying back into the parent system.”

  “Are humans—organic races—in danger?” Wold asked.

  “I would work from the assumption that they are only of interest if they interfere with the Kail’s programs,” Parsons said. “As long as they don’t know about it, they’re less likely to run afoul of the Kail.”

  “This is monstrous,” Atwell said. “News of this could cause riots systemwide!”

  “We must inform the Counterweight senate,” Lopez said. “They ought to know what they’re dealing with.”

  “It would cause too much of a panic,” Colwege argued, his snowy brows high on his forehead. “Especially among visitors. The planetary economy would be ruined, especially since nothing material can be done at the moment.”

  “My department is in touch with local hacker organizations,” Parsons said. “They are beginning counterprogramming, but it will take time to see if they can close off access without seeming to do so deliberately. At present, it would seem that few people will be affected by the Kail’s investigation of databases. They have little interest in human affairs, including the economy.”

  “But people should know they’re under attack!” Lopez said, leaning forward, her dark eyes blazing.

  “Are they?” Parsons asked, dryly. “This appears to be chiefly an information-gathering process. Apart from proprietary data, including manufacturing secrets and the scripts for major digitavids in production, there is little that does not undergo government oversight in the Deep Grid already. And the Kail have no means of making use of that proprietary data, as they have no manufacturing centers or an arts industry.”

  “It’s dangerous that they can take over secured systems,” Colwege said. “That’s my concern. You can’t dismiss that!”

  “I do not. But it appears to affect only LAIs at the moment, and the systems on board the Whiskerchin, which appears to have been taken over only when the Wichu did not accede to the Kail’s demands. We still don’t know whether this incursion was purely defensive, or whether they have an ulterior, hostile motive. It behooves us to act, at least openly, as if we believe that they want to reach a détente with humankind.”

  “Humankind and others are in danger,” Tamber said. “We must take action.”

  “What can we do?” Wold asked, taking the nic-tube out of xir mouth and crushing it into a ball. “Blow the Wichu ship out of the sky? I’m reluctant to take any actions against a friendly. The Wichu have been our allies since humanity’s first contact with them. I would rather see them rescued.”

  “As would we all,” Colwege agreed.

  “It makes you see how helpless we are to get along without electronic systems,” Lopez said, almost plaintively. “Some of my best friends are LAIs. So are some of my finest officers and crew. I don’t want to feel as though they are plotting to take over my ship.”

  “What defense do we have?” Lieutenant Plet asked. She and Lieutenant Oskelev sat at the far end of the table. Ordinarily, the outspoken pilot would not be included in the conference, but she had friends and distant relations on board the Whiskerchin.

  “Insufficient, to say the least,” Parsons said. He nodded to Lieutenant Ormalus. “The communication system is tied to so many of the computer functions that there are a thousand open doors through which the rogue code could enter. Prevention is our best defense.”

  “It’s terrifying that they can control any system, no matter how well defended,” Commander Atwell said. His round blue eyes seemed to pop out of his ruddy face.

  “Not completely,” Parsons said. “During my . . . meeting, I was able to block their intrusion into one system, temporarily. More I cannot say at this time. The event must remain classified.”

  “I see,” Wold said. Xe rose from xir place and paced around the table. “What can you tell us? How did you do it?”

  “Through technology available to me in the Covert Services Operation.”

  “Well, can’t we have it? We need it!”

  Parsons allowed himself the tiniest intimation of a smile. “You already have it.
I have put an upgradable anti-virus program into your communication officers’ hands. It’s been installed since my return to the ship.”

  “Functions amazingly,” the Uctu officer said, vibrating her tongue. “Efficient.”

  “Wonderful!” Lopez said, her dark eyes brightening. “Thank you, commander.”

  “My pleasure, captain,” Parsons said, nodding his head slightly. “This is the first time that the program is being deployed by any but Covert Services operatives, so the interface may seem obscure to most, but we feel that it stands the best chance of fending off the intrusion. It must be constantly updated, of course, which relies upon quantum connection with the Infogrid. The difficulty in that is if the Kail access the Infogrid and infiltrate it with programs provided to them by the rogue LAIs. They might be able to piggyback upon the program and receive the updates as we get them. As those must be activated by an organic agent, they won’t be able to make use of all of them, but they might be able to use a gap in coverage to infiltrate systems further.”

  “It sounds hopeless,” Wold said, throwing up xir hands. “I’m ready to return to Keinolt.”

  “Impossible,” Parsons said. “Until the Covert Services is convinced that this ship is free of Kail control, you would not be allowed within hailing distance of the Core Worlds.”

  “The nobles won’t like that!” Wold said. Xe rose and began to pace.

  “Under the circumstances, you may as well continue to the platform and allow them to see the spectacle,” Parsons said. He checked the simple chronometer that he had placed in his belt pouch in lieu of the viewpad he did not dare trust. “Lord Thomas will be returning with Proton Zang very shortly. If nothing else, we can leave orbit as soon as the rest of the nobles are on board.”