“All of which we threaten.”
“Damn right. Humanity is its adversary, its tormentor. Its devil.” He smiled wryly. “Its Lucifer.”
“So why did it let us escape the labyrinth?”
“That one I think I can answer. Part of what I inloaded on Hydra appears to be a string of code intended for the outernet. Not sure what it is, since it’s only a fragment of a program. Maybe a patch of some kind. As soon as I got within range of the outernet it was supposed to outload automatically.”
“So it was using you as its messenger.”
“More like its mule, but yeah.”
“So you don’t think it was behind the attack on us?”
“Oh, I do. Those fake Rus alone were proof of it. Maybe while it was loading all that crap into my brainware it was copying the data I’d stored, and later realized how much of a threat we posed. The thing isn’t human, Ru, and it probably doesn’t reason like a human. Some mathematical algorithm determined that one course of action threatened it more than the other, statistically speaking, so it shifted gears. That’s my guess, anyway. Who knows how the thing thinks?”
“No emotion,” she murmured. “No intuition. Just data.”
“And a driving need to destroy humanity. Starting with Harmony, it appears. There are parts of its code designed to activate during the Festival. That’s less than two days from now. Though I can’t imagine why—” His eyes widened. “Shit. Shit.”
“What? What is it?”
“That raging asshole Guildmaster Dresden was planning to screw with the outgoing protocols during the Festival. To make it easier for data to be transmitted to other nodes. He’s Guildmaster, so he can do whatever he wants, even if it’s stupid.” He shook his head in disgust. “If this . . . this thing . . . wants to transmit software to all the outworlds, changing the outgoing protocols would clear the way. Security would be overwhelmed by all the traffic, and outgoing data would get much less scrutiny than usual. Maybe none at all. Shit!” He shook his head. “We need to do something to stop that from happening. Or find someone who can.”
“And by ‘do something’ you mean, on the station where they think you’re a terrorist? Where every facial recognition device probably has you filed under Ten Most Wanted?”
He flushed. “Yeah, there is that. But they think I’m dead, right? No one should be looking for me anymore.”
“And if they still are?”
He sighed. “Then I guess I spend the rest of my life on a prison station, while you do battle with a homicidal computer virus alone. Or you can go off on some outriding mission and leave that to others. I don’t know.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m so tired I can hardly think. What’s our ETA?”
She consulted the ship’s chrono. “Ten hours.”
“Once I have access to the outernet, I’ll see if I can figure out exactly what our friend’s plans are.” He laughed. “That’s a damn stupid way to refer to it, isn’t it? We need to give the digital bastard a name.”
“Morpheus? The spirit of dreams?”
“Overdone. Half the fantasy virts on the market use it. Hell, I’ve used it.” He thought for a moment. “How about Icelus? Brother of Morpheus, lord of nightmares.”
“Works for me.”
He sighed. “We should get some sleep while we can. There may not be time for it after we get to Harmony. We’re sleeping in shifts, I assume?”
“Seems wise.”
“Albeit disappointing.” A strained smile was briefly visible. “You can go first, if you want. I’m afraid I’m still too wired to relax.”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m not closing my eyes until we’re back in Common Law space. Bed’s all yours for now.”
He bowed his head slightly. “As you command, boss.”
She watched him as he walked back toward the bunks. Still strong in stride, his shoulders erect, but the exhaustion in him was palpable. Not only of body, but of spirit.
She felt the same.
I should send a report to Jericho. Make sure this information gets to him, just in case we don’t.
She turned off the brainwave monitor before she began that task, leaving Micah to adopt whatever sleep cycle suited him best, in privacy.
Humans yearn for mystical experience. They hunger to believe there is something more to this world than what they can experience with their physical senses, for what that will say about our world. Gods, spirits, divination, visions, any of them will serve. All that is required is one thing that science cannot explain, and all things become possible.
Osho Yun-Si
Without Limits
HARMONY NODE
HARMONY STATION
DRESDEN WAS watching the kaltrop table, where guests in glittering masks and silken gowns cast star-shaped playing pieces across the board. Their wager counters were displaying numbers in four and five digits—high bets for this kind of game—and when someone lost a throw there was laughter from the players around them. Rich people were often entertained by the losses of others. Meanwhile drinks were precariously balanced on the edge of the table, thirteen in all. He was tempted to accidentally knock one of the glasses to the floor to produce a more pleasing number.
He’d hung a betting board on the back wall the day before, listing the various facets of the harvester’s arrival that one could wager on. What flight formation would the sparrows use? How much mass would each one carry, on the average? What was the minimum load? The maximum? How quickly would they decelerate? Had any been damaged during their fifty-year mission, and not yet repaired? One had only to name some feature of the spectacle to come, and it would be added to the list. The number of bets in each category were displayed, as was the total amount wagered. Sometimes he would place a bet himself, just to make the array of numbers more pleasing.
Almost time. It was almost time. Harmony would make history today.
“Guildmaster Dresden?”
He turned to find a tall man in a traditional Guild robe standing at a respectful distance. The man was not wearing a mask, and the kaja design painted on his face was mostly nantana with a hint of natsiq, which suggested he was here on Guild business. His hair was a silvery lavender, dramatic above the stark Guild black. “Tye Jericho,” the visitor introduced himself, bowing his head slightly. “Director of Outrider Affairs. I called earlier to let your office know I was coming.” He looked around the room. “If this is a bad time . . .”
Dresden smiled graciously. “It’s never a bad time to receive such a distinguished visitor. Come.” Dresden gestured toward a golden archway draped in crimson velvet, which led to more private rooms. Had his people failed to tell him that Jericho was coming? Or had he simply forgotten? These days his mind was filled with so many facts and numbers pertaining to his Festival, sometimes there was room for little else.