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**Raging Mouse** · May 31, 2000, 10:02

Chapter 35: On the Yellow Brick Road

Dorothy's view on her situation was quite multifaceted. There were the terrible moments when she had nearly been captured by the Cyborgs. There were all these new people and places she was getting to know. There was, above everything else, the longing for her parents. And, at the core of her being, a new and quickly growing part of her mind that reacted to all of this.

It did not go unnoticed.

"She's hardening", Jim commented to Sebastian as they rested inside the rovers after the second terran day of their travel. They had passed the border into Morgan territory without incident, and were now circling around Morgan Processing. "Her eyes have lost that bright expression. She looks much more weary now. She looks like, I hope you know the expression, an old soul."

Steiner was eating some soup, but he nodded and his movements slowed down as his line of thought switched to the unpleasant subject. He gulped down a spoonful of the orange liquid and glanced at Dorothy. She was in the drivers' cabin, talking to Hatchet. "Bound to happen eventually, right? I mean, her parents are alive, aren't they? She can't write them off in her mind as lost, and yet she can't go to them. We won't let her."

"That's unfair. You make it sound like it's our fault they're separated."

"Yes, but you know what I mean. We can't give her to the enemy. We must try to extract her parents, but that could take years."

"Yes. So what are you going to do? I know you're trained to guard her from bullets, bombs and kidnappings, but can you protect her from despair?"

In the cabin, Hatchet pointed at a gauge. "That's the cabin air-pressure monitor. It's in percentages, one hundred percent meaning equal pressure to the outer atmosphere. For safety reasons, it should never be lower than a hundred and five."

Dorothy nodded. "The higher pressure keeps the outer atmosphere of Planet from entering the rover through any holes in the hull."

"Very good. Now that I've shown you all the equipment, what do you want to do?"

"Could I drive the rover?"

Hatchet nodded. "Once I've made sure you know what you're doing, and that you paid attention when I taught you about the various instruments. If you know them, then you'll get to drive the rover as soon as we start again." He pointed to a row of flashing buttons in the roof of the cabin. "What do these do?" Dorothy concentrated.

Five hours later the two rovers started moving again. As they accelerated to a steady thirty kilometers per hour the second rover weaved back and forth as Dorothy attempted to keep a constant distance to the lead rover, but she learned quickly. Once they had reached their cruise velocity, possible in this quite flat region, Hatchet could relieve some of Static's work by watching the perimeter-sensors, only occasionally checking on how Dorothy was doing.

This enabled him to spot the warning signs long before Static would have. What he was watching was a colour-coded map that showed input of disturbances from every sensor the rover had, plus several of the sensors mounted on the lead rover, painted over a wireframe representation of the surrounding terrain. Each sensor's output had it's own distinct colour, and a human would have been portrayed as a rainbow-hued smudge as the various sensors scanned the intruder. As a rule of thumb, monochrome signals could be safely ignored unless they were intense, while three colours or more in a 'smudge' should be avoided or investigated.

Of course, it was possible to identify an object by the 'spectrum' it produced, if you were trained for it. Thus, when Hatchet saw a swarm of small blue dots (indicating they had been registered by the motion scanner and nothing else) enter the screen in front and to the left of the lead rover, he knew what it was. He quickly entered the steering cabin and told Dorothy to move to the passenger's seat.

"We have incoming mindworms. Merlin, can you hide us?"

"We've already been detected", Merlin called back, his voice slightly strained. "I'm keeping them out right now, but I'd floor it if I were you."

Hatchet didn't need to be told twice. The rover accelerated and turned to the right. The lead rover was doing the same, but it turned more, eventually positioning it on the other side of Hatchet's rover. It assumed a position to the right and slightly ahead, and accelerated further. Hatchet strained to keep up the same pace.

"Grinder, ease up on the gas a bit or you'll hit a stone!"

Grinder replied with a grunt, but merlin glanced up briefly, with droplets of sweat forming on his forehead. "No, no. Faster. Faster!" Hatchet turned around briefly to look at him, and then pressed his throttle as far down as it went. He clearly wasn't pleased.

Then Dorothy was aware of a growing feeling. It was hard to describe, but she became clearly aware of Merlin in the cargo-area of the rover, even though she was looking out of the front window. Puzzled, she turned around and looked at the probe-operative.

She gasped. He seemed to be surrounded by a slight bluish haze, reminiscent of the texture of a monochromatic soap-bubble. He was grimacing, and his hands were clenching and unclenching as if he was enduring a great deal of pain. Jim was watching him with his mouth open.

"Jim, what's happening to him?!"

"He's holding the 'fluence of the mindworms at bay. We'd all be crawling around on the floor, looking for our brains, if he wasn't here to keep them checked. But they must be amazingly strong, 'cause he's giving everything he's got and there's visible pyrokinetic residue forming! And.. yess.. they're beginning to get through.. " He clutched his head.

Dorothy watched, mesmerized by the shifting haze, and wondered what she should be looking for. Then she felt it. Looking at Merlin was beginning to make her eyes sting. So she turned away and blinked furiously. Now it felt as though she had eyes in her neck, and they were beginning to water.

Then the feeling changed. The eyes weren't in her neck anymore, and they weren't hers. She felt sure that, should she turn around, she'd see several pairs of disembodied eyes staring at her with hate and malignance. The feeling was getting stronger, and her neck started to prickle as if a crowd of people was critically inspecting it. She heard Merlin whisper hoarsely.

"Gooo.. plleeasse; gooo.. faaster.."

But these rovers weren't built for speed. Speed as a subject didn't show up much in any manual on how to stay undetected. Hatchet was blinking furiously, trying to dispel the green and purple dots in his vision, caused by the telepathic attack stunning his synapses one by one. It was hard to steer since his entire body felt like it had gone to sleep. He was gasping for air, yet felt out of breath. Behind him, in the cargo-hold, Merlin groaned and slumped on the floor. Static rose to assist him, and fell on top of him without a sound.

Hatchet saw how the lead rover was slowing down and tried to contact Grinder via the commlink, but as soon as he opened his mouth his consciousness imploded. He fell forward onto the steering wheel, sending the rover into a skid. Dorothy tried to shove him back into the driver's seat, but the centrifugal force was holding her back. The rover bounced and lurched wildly, and then stopped with a grinding noise. Hatchet's foot slid off the throttle, and the wheels stopped skidding.

Jim and Sebastian rose simultaneously, and Dorothy saw out of the corner of her eye how the psychic attack sent them into unconsciousness. They fell against each other, and piled up on the floor next to Merlin and Static.

Dorothy froze. If I move, they'll sense me. She didn't have asolute proof, but everything seemed to indicate this. She could feel all those mind's eyes, looking for a target. She felt their senses were far more powerful than any sensor the rovers had.

With reptile sluggishness, she swivelled her eyes to look out of the side window. The lead rover was fifty meters away, stuck in a patch of xenofungus. She saw how mindworms emerged from the patch and tried to climb onto it. She had imagined they would be slow and clumsy creatures, but they seemed to have all the energy of fireworks; their movements were short bursts of speed as they lunged forward, or upward as they tried to scale the vehicle. They seemed to be succeeding, for one managed to slither/leap onto the hood. It proceeded to peck at the windshield with it's beak/stinger.

Then one appeared on the front window of Dorothy's rover. She jumped and let out a short scream, regretting it even before she'd stopped. She had a sensation like- well, a pilot of a hangglider would have the same feeling if he saw every anti-air weapon of a military base being aimed at him, and heard the distant blaring of sirens.

There was a moment of time stretched out, as if a huge potential of energy was about to reach a critical mass..

And then a feeling of hesitation. The mindworm slithered down from the window, and there was a clonk as the outer door in the rear, leading to the small airlock, opened and shut again. The air of the cabin felt like an impending thunderstorm, and Dorothy suddenly felt very drowsy. There was the whirr of the airlock's fans and filters. Dorothy's head slumped against the back of the driver's seat. There was a hiss as the inner door was unsealed, making it possible to open. Dorothy was asleep.

The door opened.

End of chapter 35.

**Raging Mouse** · June 10, 2000, 11:18

Chapter 36: Exit

The din in Alpha Prime was unbelievable. Somehow, every single citizen seemed to have got hold of some firearms, and possibly a fragmentation grenade or two.

And they were fighting each other. Lewis couldn't understand how they kept track of friends and foes, but somehow they knew. Those ready to choose Beta as their leader were fighting those who did not think he was the logical choice. It was a nasty fight, and not only because of it's fury, but because the participants were rigorously logical. If you shouted a convincing enough proof to support your opinion, the opponent could switch sides. A philosophical civil war was raging, and a cunning argument could be more effective than any gun.

The fact that the Inner Circle was fleeing was being trumpeted out from every loud-speaker. The resistance shouted back with megaphones, detailing what Beta did to people whose intellects were surplus to (or failed to meet) requirements.

Lewis, Bearcat and four soldiers from the Dark Company had got separated from the rest of the group. Forces loyal to Beta had quickly separated them further, so rejoining the Inner Circle seemed unlikely. They were, as far as Lewis could tell, fleeing aimlessly towards the outskirts of the capital.

Although the noise showed no signs of weakening with distance, the fighting clearly took place in the central parts of the city; all the people had flocked to them as they were tactically vital. And, of course, many were trying to help or hinder the flight of the Inner Circle. This meant that the streets Lewis and Bearcat were using were almost deserted, and the occasional Cyborg citizen they met was more interested in going somewhere than challenging strangers. Just in case, Lewis had been assigned a laser pistol by one of the soldiers.

Eventually Lewis could see where they were heading. One of the main exits, with associated vehicle- and goods-terminal, was straight ahead. This wasn't the largest one, as there were no mag-tube tracks through this one, but the main airlock was still gargantuan. The four-storey depots were dwarfed in comparison. The lighs here near the edge of the city were white beams in the darkness, lighting up myriads of dust-particles in a slow aerial dance. They failed to illuminate the surrounding buildings and the small group of people hiding in their shadows, which was why neither Lewis, bearcat nor the soldiers saw it until they were but a few meters apart.

The other group consisted of four guards, four soldiers and Jessica. Both groups froze, and there was a general pointing of weapons. Lewis felt the muscles in his chins tighten, and his mind began to draw up possible scenarios while he watched and waited.

Bearcat nodded at a guard. "We will take a vehicle of our liking and exit Alpha Prime. Attempting to stop us is detrimental to your vitality."

The guard nodded back. "You will not. You will put down your weapons and wait for transportation to nearest upgrade- and merging center. We are authorized to use force if you do not obey. First you will lower your weapons."

The words triggered Lewis' brain. His mind held up a cue-card and the associated script. He took a deep breath. "Our friends on your flanks beg to differ." He watched this sink in. He was already squeezing the trigger as two soldiers and two guards, including the one who had spoken, turned to peer into the shadows. The laser-beam hit the throat of one of the soldiers who hadn't turned. Five other damp explosions of gore marked the hits of the Dark Company -soldiers, as they had been quick to understand Lewis' trick. The soldiers and guards who hadn't reacted fell to the ground.

Then there were only three guards and Jessica left. They lowered their weapons.

"Oldest trick on the cave wall, and you brainiacs fell for it. Do your algorithms impair your ability to detect lies?", Lewis sneered. "You, Jessica, will come with us. I'm itching to try out some hi-tech exorcism."

"And if I refuse?"

"Is having your head detonated a productive scenario?"

A short moment later an amphibious rover left Alpha Prime and headed for University territory. Inside, Lewis listened to the traffic on the comm-links.

The Inner Circle had failed to escape; after a short fight nearly all members were taken captive, including Aki Zeta-Five. The fighting in Alpha Prime was over, and Beta could now assume control over the other bases, as well as the entire army.

But the short period of chaos had even greater repercussions on the frontlines. Once Beta had assumed control over Alpha Prime, he sent order to the troops to cease fire.

End of chapter 36.

**Raging Mouse** · June 21, 2000, 19:07

Chapter 37:Rude Awakenings

Dorothy sensed..

Call it sparks of light, like tiny fireflies, weaving and dancing around one another. Call it a web of chrome, glittering where light falls on it, but invisible in the darkness.

The two images were almost separate, and involved something more than vision. They seemed to have smell, taste and sound as well, or possibly some absolute grasp of what the objects were rather than what mere organic senses could pick up of their existence.

The images floated together, each mote of light becoming an intersection in the glittering, flickering web. It pulsated, as if the threads were actually electric arcs, flashing into and out of existence dozens of times each second.

Dorothy became aware, slowly, of sounds, as the tiny brilliant dots seemed to draw nearer. High-pitched whistles and groans, like dolphins or irritated beetles, seemed to issue from the dots.

At first they swirled around her, each glittering point in it's own irregular orbit like a swarm of very chaotic electrons. Then they grouped, forming a moving unit, like a school of fish. They drew nearer to each other, and the arcs of energy intensified into a network of silver fire. The squeaks sounded louder, and more of them could be heard at every passing moment in an increasing cacaphony, until, with a flash, they transformed..

..Into words. Dorothy became aware of another presence, seemingly everywhere around her. The words were directed at this being.

"Hivemother, caretaker, self; brood curious. This Earthmanchild?"

The other presence answered, with fragmented power similar to the murmur of distant thunder.
"Earthmanchild yes. Brood correct."

"Guardian, shepherd; Who she? Why hold back? She friend?"

"She a mere larvae yet, unknown to me. But already we sense her power.. She is precious. We have not seen a mind like hers."

"Planet curious too. We spare her?"

"Yes. We spare all of them."

A whine issued forth from the gleaming sliver of electricity.
"Egg sacs full. Brood needs hosts; to renew. To grow. To multiply. Spare all but one, Earthmother?"

"No. We will hunt other hosts. We sense Planet.. These should be spared.. For now.."

The scene faded for Dorothy, and there was a sense of withdrawal. A comfortable nothingness surrounded her, but the vision had sparked her consciousness and she felt weary and drowsy. She struggled to clear her mind.

A sense of reality returned as if she'd surfaced from a dark pool. She was dimly aware of lying down, but more urgent was the feeling of suffocation. She sat up and coughed violently, gulping for air in between. Finally, with streaming eyes and a runny nose, she managed to take some deep but laboured breaths and bring the world back into focus.

The first thing she focused on was the deep purple dust on her legs. It was still settling. She wiped her nose with her hand, and found more of the purple stuff. She stared at it curiously, wondering what it was, until she recognized it as spores. From xenofungus.

This made her look around, at the patch of fungus where she was sitting. And, with growing apprehension, she raised her hand to her face again, to check whether she'd missed the mouthpiece of the breather the first time.

No. She was breathing Planet air, and was coughing up xenofungus spores.

She should've been dead already.

The hand laid on her shoulder wasn't much help at this point, but the voice, signalling both patience and irritation, was.

"Calm down, girl; you must've realized by now you're fine."

Dorothy stared at a mindworm slithering past her feet. She tried to talk, and found she could, in hoarse whispers. "I- I thought you couldn't breathe Planet air! At least, not for several thousand years.."

A man walked around her. He was old and showed it, with more wrinkles than Dorothy had seen on a human before. But he wasn't frail; his person suggested someone who had performed heavy labour every day for sixty years. And his gaze was piercing. "That's typical technologist thinking, that." He was carrying a metal rod long enough to serve as a cane, and he pointed it at the purple dust on Dorothy's legs.
"That's a specially mutated strain of xenofungus, Dorothy. It can't survive anywhere but the human lung, where it serves as a barrier for excess nitrogen. It also uses your body's piezo-electric field as an energy-source for photosynthesis, rather than light, giving you more oxygen even if you hold your breath. It isn't particularly comfortable or pleasant until you've gotten used to it, and the occasional purple spores you cough up can be downright scary, especially for ignorant onlookers."

Several items of interest fought for Dorothy's attention. The new feeling of Planet's icy wind on her face, the mindworms slithering about here and there, and the two rovers, parked neatly a little way off. But the main one was: "How come you know my name?"

"Good heavens, haven't you figured that out yet? If you meet a powerful empath with a mindworm boil you don't need to introduce yourself, you know." He nodded. "Exactly; these aren't the wild variety, if that's what's been bothering you."

Dorothy laughed nervously. "Eh- could you ask that one to.. stop slithering over my leg? Please? It's scary.."

"No. I have no control over them."

She looked up at him, half in wonder and half in fear. "But- I thought this was your mindworm boil!"

"Did I say that? No, it's my wife Lisa who controls them." He extended his left hand, offering to help Dorothy stand. "I'm Emilio. But you can call me Old Codger. Everyone does. Come on, I'll introduce you to the family and friends."

A little way off stood three other people; two men and one woman. They were watching over the still unconscious crew from the two rovers.

Old Codger nodded at each in turn as he introduced them. "This is Elena, my daughter, and Enrico, my son. And this is Edgecrusher, our guard against any targets proving unusually resistant to psionics." Elena and Enrico smiled at dorothy. They seemed in their thirties, but could be of any age since the Gaians were renowned for their knowledge of longevity. Edgecrusher seemed slightly older, and his weathered face told of a long military career. "Edge, where's Lisa?"

The soldier grimaced and shrugged. "Who knows? She goes where she wants to. Look, I really don't like this-"

"Then just tell her so!" Emilio snapped. Edgecrusher's expression darkened. "Look, I have orders." He started to drone on in a sing-song voice. "Intercept all intruders, and bring the survivors in for questioning. And don't listen to the soft-hearted Gaians", he added with a sneer.

"Planet says leave them be, Edgecrusher." Once again Dorothy felt like she was close to an extremely localized thunderstorm. A tall and wiry woman was approaching the group, and behind her the mindworm-boil seethed like the waters after a destroyer at full speed. Dorothy was amazed when Edgecrusher dared defy this obviously powerful telepath and shake his fist at her. "Damn your Planet! I need at least some of these people back to base for interrogation; how d'you think it'd look if I return empty-handed after reporting the capture of two unidentified rovers?"

Several mindworms clustered around Lisa's feet and hissed at Edgecrusher. She had the look of someone who got obeyed quite a lot. The telepath glared at him, and then said "Interrogate them here. Then report to your precious superiors!" He glared back for a moment, and then turned around and stomped away. Lisa turned towards Dorothy.

"Hello, Dorothy. Don't be afraid of the mindworms; they wouldn't hurt you. They only prune life when it gets too repetitive; when there's too much of the same. And you are new. Special. So Planet has nothing against you."

"How do you mean new? I'm just a girl."

"You are a mere larva yet, you can't expect to be able to see the extent of your abilities when they reach their full power. But I can already see you will branch off in many directions, letting Planet shine on you far better than most humans."

Dorothy felt wary of this woman. Her choice of words were odd, to say the least. Edgecrusher reappeared, holding a comm-link. "Miss, I have orders to escort you and your crew to the borders. The Cybernetic Conscoiusness has begun negotiations for truce on all fronts, and the Morganites are following their example. The presence of any Gaian forces within our borders is no longer beneficial, and should cease."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? Well, well.. Shall I awake these people?" Edgecrusher signalled her to wait, and turned to Dorothy. "Girl, you'd better tell the truth now.. How many of you are actual probe-operatives? I need you to point them out. Don't worry; now that the war's over, we're just going to interrogate them and send them back with some diplomatic threats."

Dorothy stared at him for a while, and then pointed at the Free Drone trainees. She refrained from pointing at Merlin and Sebastian. Edgecrusher let his gaze switch between her and the group for a while, and then shrugged. "All right. Lisa, could you awaken the rest.. I'd rather let the probe-operatives regain consciousness in a cell."

Lisa obeyed. Dorothy felt better as she watched Merlin, Sebastian and Jim regain consciousness, and soon they were all talking excitedly. Edgecrusher interrupted them. "I'm a blasted fool, not following orders. I ought to imprison the lot of you, since you were travelling with that probe-team! So could you kindly get out of my sight before any of my superiors appear?"

He didn't have to ask twice. They entered one of the rovers, Sebastian behind the steering-wheel and Dorothy at his side. He looked at her thoughtfully. "Dorothy? Now that the war is over, we could return to the University.. But I really don't think you'd be safe there.."

She fixed him with a piercing stare. "You think Beta won't stop trying to capture me", she said. "Actually, I think so too. But I don't want to run away anymore either." She sighed.

Sebastian nodded sadly. "If you don't run, you'll have to stand and fight. Then choose your battlefield; the University is the best, I think, since you and I know it's ways and lands well. But that will be the first place Beta will look for you. And he has an army now; he could block your escape much more efficiently."

Dorothy thought for a long time.

End of chapter 37.

**Raging Mouse** · June 29, 2000, 16:36

Chapter 38:Mayor and Master

Zakharov walks a full circle around Methis' mainframe, as if searching for some specific detail or feature among the masses of terminals and cooling fans. He stops by one of Methis' 'mobile interfaces' while still turned towards the tower of electronics.

"Is there something bothering you?", Methis asks.

Zakharov answers so quickly he almost interrupts Methis. "Do you know, you have one of the deepest personalities I have ever met? You are truly a most multi-faceted individual. I shall make a note to show my appreciation to Dr. Parks once he returns."

"That is very kind of you, Doctor Zakharov. I am sure he will be pleased."

"Imagine; to your friends, such as Dorothy, you are unshakably loyal and gentle, while at the same time you perform calculations concerning mistrust, deceit and violence, even war, with calm efficiency and ruthlessness. It's quite a contradiction."

"If you say so. I must comment, though, that my social and tactical routines are quite separate and interact only minimally."

Zakharov ignores this. "Right now, though, I am particularly astounded by your initiative and resourcefulness. Regarding Dorothy Parks."

Methis is silent for a while. "You do not sound very pleased. Have I done something wrong."

Zakharov laughs. "Wrong?! Methis, were the University a democracy I'd consider giving you the right to vote! No, I intend to reward and promote you."

"Really? How?"

Zakharov claps his hands. "For starters, I am delegating the management of University Base to you. Budget allocation, infrastructure, maintenance, the whole deal. Previously I have managed this city almost single-handedly, since it has helped me relax. But now I'm growing tired of it, and I intend to relax with some basic research into quantum chemistry instead. So I want you to take over. I don't think there is a more qualified person anywhere."

"This is.. a great responsibility."

Zakharov smiles. "It is a day I have long dreamt about. Machines in the past have been our tools and servants. Now, you will be the mayor and master of University Base. With the job comes a paycheck, of course, which you will receive. You may spend it as you see fit."

"This is a great honour, Dr. Zakharov. I shall spend it, or save it, wisely. But you said 'once Dr. Parks returns'. Does this mean you have received word from him?"

Zakharov nods. "Indeed. He's being accused of kidnapping a Cybernetic citizen in good standing, thus creating a really stinking political situation, but since Jessica was tricked into merging in the first place I don't think Beta has much of a case. Anyway, Lewis is already safe within University territory, and on his way here."

Methis is silent for a moment. "Then my real trial will begin soon." He turns his interface around one revolution, letting Zakharov inspect it. "What do you think? Will it do?"

Zakharov nods. "It will do excellently, Methis."

"One more thing.. Can I still assist Lewis and his team? His work is rather important.."

"Of course." Zakharov looks around. "It's Lewis' lab, and you're quite hard to move. While at the same time you're present wherever there's a computer terminal in University Base."

Something else seems to occur to Methis. "As a mayor I'd have to participate in meetings and conferences, and receive guests, unless I am mistaken?"

"Oh, yes. That's partly why I'm enjoying this so much." Zakharov nods at Methis' interface again. "Ever since we managed to fit the antenna into the heads of your interfaces, there's been no way of telling them apart from true humans. So you could talk to the Morganite ambassador without him realizing he's standing half a meter from our greatest technological achievement. Mere cybernetic replacement limbs don't compete in the same leauge as you, Methis, when one speaks of discoveries."

"It appears I can calmly accept the new job, doctor. You have thought of everything, as usual."

Zakharov nods, as if to acknowledge that everything is proceeding according to plan. Then he frowns. "And now on to less happy matters. The empaths' college have given their report on this Beta -fellow. Could you summarize their observations?"

"Certainly. They consider Beta an extremely intelligent psychotic and megalomaniac. His actions and adherence to promises are erratic at best."

"As I gathered. How likely do the empaths consider the possibility he will resume his war, and his kidnappings?"

"They consider it certain, Provost."

"Then we must be on our guard. We don't want him to get his hands on Dorothy, now do we."

"Indeed. I am most pleased to have reestablished contact with her, Provost, and I would be most distressed should the link be.. unexpectedly severed."

"Well, guard the privacy of your 'discussions' with everything you have. The Cyborgs must not be let within striking distance."

"Of course. They will not find me a weak part in her armour."

"Good. Then everything is in order, and we can wait."

"Wait for what?"

"For the next sign of war. Everyone's expecting it."

"Oh."

End of chapter 38.

**Raging Mouse** · July 14, 2000, 00:40

Chapter 39: Deja Vu.

See how father and daughter are reunited.

Watch as the emotional moment unfolds. See the reward-ceremony next day, where Zakharov once again flexes the public relations-muscle. See the reuniting of what's left of the research-team, and the setting of new goals, including the restoration of Jessica Lewis. Observe how Dorothy is present at all of these events, and see how Lewis notes how changed his daughter now is.

He blames it on her traumatic experiences.

Lewis and Dorothy are asked if they would like to resume the longevity-treatment, and while Lewis is eager to, Dorothy wants to save them until she has grown up.

And grow up she does, spectacularly. Her scores before the kidnappings put her in the top ten percent among children of her age, but as the years pass she advances. Fast. At the age of fifteen she is without equal among children of her age, and she is actively helping Lewis in his projects.

And now, nine years later..

See the young woman, walking along. See her father, walking by her side and smiling.

"Dad, what's on your mind? Why that faint smile?" She is dressed in a light blue lab-coat, with her hair tied into a pony-tail with a red ribbon.

"Oh I'm sorry, was I smiling? I didn't realize.." He is wearing a lab-coat, with a slightly darker shade of blue, showing his status as senior research-administrator. Hair and beard are still dark and short, but the auto-adjusting glasses are gone.

"Well here's a penny for your thoughts you senile buffoon; what are you thinking about?"

This time Lewis grins like fresh millionaire. "Whether or not I dare grant you a wish for your nineteenth birthday!"

Dorothy shakes her head sadly, while smiling mischievously. "Three broken bones is enough, thank you very much, so I won't ask for a mono-grav this time around."

"But I doubt you'll settle for a bicycle this time around either!"

They are still chuckling when they reach the second checkpoint. The procedure now has the swiftness of routine. The rest of the route is so familiar that Dorothy is quite surprised when Lewis stops at the wrong door.

"Lewis, where are you going? Your lab's through this door!"

Her father smiles at her and knocks at the, she realizes, new plaque. "You are right. But this adjacent lab -number two nine one- will be yours and Methis' from now on. We intend to move and upgrade both her hardware and her interfaces, and remove the manual ones, as soon as an internal connection has been built between the two labs. You and Methis are now official cerebral cybernetics -researchers."

To hide her surprise, Dorothy grumbles. "And all it took to qualify was nine amazing years -and counting- as mayor of university Central for Methis, and three major research publications for me."

"Huh. Some researchers don't get this privilege even though they've published two hundred major theories. No, Zakharov usually reserves new labs for 'earthshakers'. Your work in familiar-systems qualifies."

The door opens, and the cool gust, hinting of rubber and plastic, speaks of the new and unused spaces beyond. The lights are turned on silently and automatically, and as Dorothy gazes over her new domain she hears a gasp by her side.

"What's wrong, dad?"

Lewis is gaping, but he shuts his mouth quickly and shakes his head with a grim expression. "I just had a rather unwelcome feeling of deja-vu, that's all."

"Do you know why?"

"Yes. Except for the size and the fact that this room has the normal amount of surfaces, it is a rather straight replica of the thirteenth room in Alpha Prime's central admin."

"Convergent evolution in design, do you think?"

"No. I think we're finally getting our probe-teams into a hard-hitting force. Nanotech probably helps." He sighs. "Well, that's that surprise unveiled. Now, do you have any wish you can think of here and now?"

Dorothy walks a bit into the lab and is silent for a moment. "Rehabilitate mom."

Lewis finds he is unable to answer. A heavy weight seems to have appeared on his chest. He leans against the doorframe and lowers his head.

After a short while Dorothy continues. "It's not as easy as we thought, is it?"

Lewis clears his throat. "I know it's easy. I just don't know how to do it. Even now, with our advanced knowledge of the human mind and how to shape it -in part thanks to you, we still can't straighten out exactly how the algorithm/human blending works, or how it unravels."

"Well, what can we do?"

Lewis sighs. "A young researcher advanced this theory the other day, and I think he is right; if we could study the first algorithm somehow we'd find all the answers. We know that the newer algorithms hide their function well within aperson's standard psyche -essentially there's no boundary between the two. But older algorithms -and especially Aki Zeta-five- are partly or completely hardware-based. And I know of only Aki Zeta-Five to have retained this configuration. I don't know why; it could be all show. But if not.. There's the key." Another sigh. "But no-one has seen her since Beta took control of the Consciousness. No-one even knows if she's still alive. I'm afraid we might never find out how algorithms are separated from their 'host' unless Beta decides to tell us."

Dorothy is silent for a couple of seconds, apparently studying the empty dias upon which Methis' new mainframe will rest; all the way from the floor to the ceiling, with walkways connecting to it at every level. Then she glances quickly at Lewis.

"We shall see.. what can be done."

End of chapter 39.

**Raging Mouse** · July 22, 2000, 18:57

Chapter 40: Hubris

Morgan Industries. See a large room in the corner of a skyscraper. Note the double-thick windows, the furniture from the cutting edge of fashion, the woman sitting in the sofa. An old-looking man enters in a bathrobe, towelling his hair and humming an old tune only partly recognizable.

He stops as he notices the woman and his face splits into a joyful grin. His eyes dart to the windows.

"Well, well. How long has it been? I can still recognize you, so not too long.. What do you call yourself these days?"

"Nothing." The voice is barely a whisper. "One of my.. clients.. call me J'arim-Aild'hu, which loosely translates into 'Where All Hubris Ends'. The name has stuck."

The grin turns into a warm smile. "They must think quite highly of you, my girl."

She nods slowly. "Well, I know some of them think of me quite often.. but I doubt they're smiling while they do it.."

The old man sits back in a recliner. "Hmm. So Progenitors actually can smile.."

The woman smiles and shakes her head. "Not physically. They alter their resonance to show happiness, joy or satisfaction, depending on the situation." She sighs. "Tell your guard to stop creeping around in the corridor."

The old man raises his eyebrows. "Edgecrusher? Come meet my guest."

Upon hearing this the woman turns around to observe the large man leaving the cover of the shadows beyond the door. "Edgecrusher? Well, well. Planet is shrinking."

The old man reaches to a table by the recliner and grabs hold of a box. He opens it and pulls out a cigar. "Not really. It turns out he's been on my payroll all along. That's one of the downsides of owning more corporations than most people own socks." He shrugs and fumbles for a lighter. "Arresting your boss is an effective but risky method of making an impression. Nowadays I seem to be attracting an irritating amount of assassins and people ready to push their luck; so where I go, Edgecrusher goes first. Edge, do you still remember our guest? You met only briefly.."

The tall corporate soldier nods at J'arim as he walks over to the old man. "I never forget a face, and mere aging will not fool me."

The old man nods, satisfied. "So what business of yours concerns an old sailor like Jim Sturlasson, lass?"

"Corporate espionage."

"Thank goodness you're whispering", Jim mumbles.

"Not against Morgan Industries. I mean.. I'm suggesting a 'sponsored' espionage mission."

"Against who?"

"The Cybernetic Consciousness." There is a pause. "Are you surprised?"

"Well, not really. You don't look like you go after small fish. But."

"Yes. But. This is a very big fish. You need an extra large hook."

"Hah, yes. So what do you expect to catch, uh.. 'Hubris'?"

The woman ignores the nickname. "Aki Zeta-Five." She smiles. "I believe there might be some ancient scandinavian-born fellow feeling for her in you."

Jim chuckles. "Let's just say that most people realize what they have only when they have lost it. Yes.. I miss Aki Zeta-Five.. especially her more liberal view on trade.." He puffs his cigar, lost in thought. Then he retuns to the present. "So you think she is still alive? Most of my psychic evaluators assure me she is likely to have been killed almost immediately."

"No. She is useful, so Beta won't kill her. Being psychotic does not mean you are stupid. And, of course, she is such an obvious target for probe-teams. I think Beta partly keeps her alive as bait for people like me."

"Bait.. meaning increased security, round-the-clock surveillance and the likes" Jim murmurs doubtfully.

Hubris shrugs. "Naturally. It's not a problem."

Jim leans forward. "Hubris, you must realize how all this sounds to me."

"Of course. So.. shall we say a small demonstration is in order?"

"Hmm. What do you mean?"

"Give me a target and instructions what to do with it. Any target."

There is a long pause. Then Jim scratches his chin. "Any target?" Hubris nods, and he smiles. "Then.. The highest-selling piece of technology possible within the Industries is Centaurian technology. Find me something new and exciting on mindworms." He puts up a hand. "But there's more. I know what the Gaians have, and while interesting it's not breahtaking. No.. I want you to infiltrate the Cult of Planet." He leans back again, smiling happily. "If you can pull off intercontinental technological espionage then I'm prepared to believe you can walk on water or, even worse, infiltrate the Cyborgs and bring back their most guarded person."

Hubris merely shrugs. "I will contact you once the data you want has arrived on this continent." With that she stands up, nods at Edgecrusher and leaves.

End of chapter 40.

**Raging Mouse** · August 4, 2000, 13:49

Chapter 41: The Plague

Knock, knock.

Considering the precise location of this door, Having to knock on it to announce your presence to the room beyond might be unexpected. But Dr. Zakharov, whose door it is, never adds or leaves out a detail without good cause. There are several kinds of ways to knock on a door. The calm (and prepared), the urgent, angry and scared. A lot might be deduced of the person knocking, if only you have the means to decipher it.

Zakharov has the means. Theory states that even a person's identity can be determined from his/her knock, and Zakharov intends to find out how close to this he can get by applying all the knowledge of the University. So he only has to glance down at his monitor, as he does right now, to find out that, with sixty seven per cent probability, the person on the other side of the door is Captain Sebastian Steiner from Central Intelligence. There is also another readout, which looks like this:

67.3% Calm
33.0% Stressed
06.1% Excited
02.9% Worried

Zakharov raises his eyebrows. Captain Steiner has visited him (and therefore knocked on his door) hundreds of times before, giving ample material to calibrate the analyzer with, and while he still doesn't trust the device enough to pay attention to the tenths of a percentage, this is the first time it has indicated Sebastian to be excited or worried. He clears his throat and pushes a button. A loud click declares the door is unlocked.

Sebastian enters quickly, and rips off a salute. "Doctor Zakharov."

Prokhor nods at him. "Be seated, Captain Steiner. I understood you have a report.."

"Yes. Only, I was asked by General Zhukov to bring you some urgent news also.."

"Yes? Well, let's hear the report first."

Sebastian nods and leans forward in his chair to place a memory-cube on the Provost's table. "You asked me to do a threat-assessment on every foreign nation's probe-operations within our borders, so that they could be dealt with in the proper order and using the right means. I now have identified an immediate and major threat, and have stopped the survey so that we can deal with it."

"Go on."

Captain Steiner thinks for a moment before he continues. "I had the first hints of what was going on when the department of Anti-Insurgency operations summoned me. They had a problem." He pauses. "They had arrested a person suspected of aiding some Data-Angel probe-teams gather data on the University. It turned out he hadn't -he just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time- but the standard medical showed something interesting. Could you bring up the image named 'item one'?"

He points at the memory-cube. Zakharov picks it up and inserts it into the slot in his desk. A large panel opens by the slot, revealing the triple lenses of a small holo-projector. They flicker into life, and moments later a three-dimensional image of a head rotates slowly in mid-air. The surface quickly fades, exposing the brain. Then a network of yellow lines is formed, concentrating at the neck.

Prokhor leans forward, studying the image carefully. "Hmm. An MMI, of University make -it's neural/optic. But those neural lines there aren't standard.. Do you have the networking schematics?"

Sebastian nods. "That's 'item two', sir." He watches as the image changes, and then points at a part of the schematics. "See that? That's the addition. Let's zoom in to the details.. see that cluster of neuron monitors? We compared their layout with known designs. At first we couldn't find a match, but we widened our search.." He stopped. Zakharov had leaned back in his chair with an expression of dismay.

"It's the Cybernetic extension allowing algorithms to merge with a person, isn't it? I've studied them extensively."

Sebastian nods. "Yes. With a few modifications. But that's only to be expected when you upgrade technology."

Zakharov's fist thumps the armrest of his chair. "Blasted Planet! So Beta has unlocked our biological MMI:s and found out how to grow the extension he needs. Therefore removing the need for the surgery that has previously stood as a barrier to his expansion."

Another nod from Sebastian. "That's right, but it gets worse. You see, as far as we could tell the subject was not merged, and had never been."

Zakharov frowns. "That's not logical. And it's unlikely the subject could have escaped download -after all, now they can download it together with the instructions for the addition to the MMI. There's no possibility of failure."

"That's what I gathered as well. The lads at Anti-Insurgency just thought he was somehow incompatible, and were prepared to release him, but I ordered some tests by our algorithm-experts and Methis. After some time they did detect a Cyborg algorithm.. but it was unmerged and inactive." He sighs. "I know how much help having an unmerged algorithm would be to our current research into removing them, but I was convinced by Methis that we don't have the means to remove it intact. It's already partly integrated into the subject's mind. Not merged, but still there."

"Strange. That is even more unlikely."

"Only if it is unintentional, sir. Have you ever heard of sleeper personalities? Or hypnotic re-conditioning?"

"Or course. I've supervised many experiments into the subject. Ah.. I see. Sleeper algorithms. How.. clever!"

"Yes. All you need is a trigger; a word, location or an event -like seeing a specific person- and the algorithm activates and merges. Psychological or empathic scans show nothing up to that moment. The Cybernetic Consciousness could have planted thousands of these by merely hacking into one public data-terminal and tell it to download the bio-networking schematics and the algorithm during every connection. Then all our citizens using that network node would be affected." Sebastian takes a deep breath, and when he continues his voice is tired and cracked. "I immediately ran a sys-check via Methis on all University nodes. As I thought, they were clean. But. I then asked Methis to log on remotely to all nodes in every other major University city. And three out of every seven nodes were in fact infected. I suspect, therefore, that the system works the other way around as well. A person carrying a sleeper algorithm that connects to a 'clean' node automatically infects it. Unless the node is located in University Base, where the possibility of detection is high."

Zakharov rests his chin in his left hand, while his right hand clenches and unclenches. Then: "We can't simply reprogram the nodes to remove the algorithm from every user. I suspect the Cyborgs, to whom neural programming is a necessity of life, have thought that far ahead and made it impossible. And it would be nearly impossible in any case, since we still haven't figured out how their algorithms work. So.. we need first a way to protect all non-infected users." He straightens up. "Have Methis clean the affected network nodes and program some type of hunter/killer algorithm that destroys any further attempts to infect a node. Then.. I'm sure they've thought of it, but also erect a program that searches for sleeper algorithms in every user's MMI. Have the node compile a list of affected persons and have it sent to you. And then.. we'll have to contact each person individually and try to remove the algorithm through surgery."

Sebastian nods. "I already have a list of sleeper algorithms in Academy Park as of six hours ago. Since all node-events are logged it is easy to see when the node was infected and who has connected since then. If the situation is the same everywhere, then.. roughly one person in twenty in the entire University of Planet now carries a sleeper algorithm. We have to assume that new orders can be given even to sleeping algorithms if the person reconnects to a node at a later time."

Zakharov nods. "This is.. bad. What about our army?"

"They have very little contact with the public node network, so they are almost completely unaffected."

"Good. You can use whatever means and resources necessary to eliminate this threat. In the mean while, I will instruct my generals to keep an eye on the Cybernetic Consciousness. We will teach them a bitter lesson when the time is right."

Sebastian coughs. "I do believe that time is now, sir. I told you I had some news.. Well, half an hour ago the Cybernetic Consciousness launced a surprise assault on the Caretakers. The two factions are now officially at war!"

"Oh, so the esteemed Beta has gone suicidal? What are the odds, fifteen to one?"

Sebastian shakes his head. "The attack was.. enhanced. We think the entire Cybernetic army has been upgraded with nerve-gas ammunition. Against the Progenitors, this amounts to canisters of ozone. It melts their eyes and lungs in under a minute." He shudders at the thought. Zakharov narrows his eyes.

"Don't look so dismayed, Captain. If it were us, I'd do the exact same thing.. only I would find a more effective substance. Ozone dissipates too quickly for my taste! Well.. You have given me much to ponder. Was there anything more?"

"No." Sebastian rises and heads for the door. "I will keep you informed on both events, Provost." He salutes and exits.

End of chapter 41.

**Raging Mouse** · August 11, 2000, 17:01

Chapter 42: Zeus

The skipper onboard ths Aeolus stops in front of the cabin door and checks his costume. He has endured storms unlike any witnessed on Terra -and he knows it- but is still afraid of the cabin's inhabitant. He steels himself and knocks.

"Miss Kojl, you requested a wake-up call for eight hours standard time? She's now 8:01." He waits a moment, listening for an acknowledgement. "Miss Kojl?"

The door opens, and miss Kozl looks critically, with one eyebrow raised, at the young skipper. "Not bad. But be more sure of yourself next time." She hands him some Morganite credits. "Now run off; I'm sure there's work that needs your attention."

The skipper doesn't need to be told twice. He disappears as if he's been putting off rescuing a drowning child in order to knock on miss Kojl's door. Miss Rebecca Kojl -'Hubris'- closes it and returns to her computer. She has, in fact, not been asleep at all. At least, not here. On the computer's monitor is the stock-prices for Nessus-Thalassa shipping company; the largest civilian cruise-organizer on Planet. One of Hubris's companies now owns twenty per cent of it's stocks, giving her a chair at the virtual council-table. The purchase was significant enough to be broadcast on MNN (Morgan News Network), and rumours of a takeover were born, raising the stocks additionally. Initially Hubris had intended to hold on to the shares only for the duration of her visit to the continent of Zeus, but now she has decided to keep them at least for as long as the price is rising.

Soon after, she goes up to the command bridge. The captain is talking into a comm-link. "..Authorities in The Edicts. If you would check.." He pauses. "But this is a civilian.." Another pause. "But we just came from Data Decentral, fer Planet's sake, we can't have.. But.." He sighs. "Very well. But you must realize we will cancel all regular shipping to your ports as a protest. The company cannot accept this kind of treatment. Explain that to your superior, and ask if he wants to explain to Cha Dawn why the income from shipping has sunk." A sneer slowly forms as the captain listens to the reply. "I thought we might reach a compromise... Well, I understand you need every credit you get, don't you, so you wouldn't want to ruin.. well, I'll speak on your behalf... All right. Over and out."

He hangs up the comm-link onto a rack in the roof, snorts, shakes his head, turns around, notices Hubris and starts. "Excuse me, miss Kozl. Didn't hear you as I was negotiating with the Radiant Flower." He nods out of the front window, where a large ship bristling with cannons is about to move out of the way of the Aeolus.

Hubris regards the cruiser suspiciously. "What did they want?"

"Search the ship and charge us a hundred thousand morgan-creds for doing it. Plus, arrest and drag away anyone who looks like good ransom-material." He shrugs. "I picked up some local radio-traffic this morning. There's no official stations, but I did catch the conversation of the captains onboard two kelp harvesters." He raises his eyebrows and turns to look at the coast, where Dawn of Planet lies half-camouflaged against the backdrop of xenofungus. "They said.. there's a war going on. Well, several actually. Seems just about everybody on Zeus is fighting. That's probably why we're being so badly treated by these sporeheads."

"Really? That's odd. You'd expect the peacekeepers to keep a lid on things. Anyway; we're wasting money out here, Captain. Take us to harbour!"

To keep out 'bad influences', all Cultist harbours are surrounded by walls and watchtowers. Only people above a certain station, and no foreigners, are allowed to pass through the few gates into and out of the area. Hubris knows this. But she also knows that the Pirates use this port from time to time, and they tend to rebel against confinement. So as Hubris walks along the storage-buildings and offices she gazes intently at the random graffiti and other scrawls on the wall, and soon finds what she seeks: A crude compass-rose divided in half by a lightning. There is an arrow next to the graffiti.

Hubris goes in the direction the arrows are pointing. There's similar marks along the route, with additional arrows. They point right at an intersection. Then down a small passage between two storage-houses. At it's end is an old sewer-hatch with the same rose painted on it. The hatch opens easily.

Beneath, a dark tunnel. But after only twenty meters a shaft of light shines down onto the floor from another hatch. Hubrish pushes it open and looks out at a xenofungal garden.

No-one sees her exit the sewer. She puts down her suitcase on the ground, opens it and pulls out an orange and violet robe. Then, as she steps out into a crowd on the street by the garden, she is indistinguishable from any other Cultist.

She disappears among the crowd.

End of chapter 42.

**Raging Mouse** · August 19, 2000, 16:53

Chapter 43: Brainwash

Zakharov stares at the frozen holo-image. It shows the front door to an appartment in the hab complex' lower portions. The door is open by a narrow crack, and the barrel of a gun protrudes from the darkness beyond.

In front of it a CounterIntelligence-agent is collapsing with a great hole in his torso.

"And you say the subject's algorithm is not, in fact, active."

Sebastian Steiner nods. "No. It was bound to happen. When a criminal finds three C-I agents knocking on his front door he pulls out a gun, no matter how friendly their smiles are. And we don't train our agents to smile at all."

"These certainly aren't", Zakharov mumbles. He looks up sharply at the captain. "What kind of criminal?"

Sebastian grins mirthlessly. "A Morganite probe-operative, sir. He's lived in Cosmograd for three years; he got the MMI two years ago. He got the sleeper-algorithm fourteen Terran months ago."

Zakharov unfreezes the holo-image. The ensuing firefight is short. "And we can't even question him. How vexing. Have there been more incidents like this?"

The captain stares into space as he consults his MMI. "Thirteen, sir. No more probes, though; only criminals of some kind or another. They are turned over to the militia." He looks down at Zakharov. "The militia is getting restless, by the way. I've received demands from almost every local commander to let them know what we are doing."

"That's up to me, not you. Give me the reports."

Sebastian nods, and his eyes dart this way and that as he accesses the files. A short beep from Zakharov's desk indicates received data. "By the way, sir.. How proceeds our search for a way to remove the algorithms?"

Zakharov rises from his chair, and begins to pace back and forth. His frustration is obvious. "We have found no way to decipher the code the Cybernetic algorithms use. We can shut down the MMIs of the affected individuals, but we can't remove them and it makes the subjects socially handicapped. Several of our top researchers are now on a holiday indefinitely." He stops, and turns to face Steiner.

"We need Aki Zeta-Five. I'm gathering resources to launch a large-scale probe operation into Cybernetic territory and gather data on her current status and possible whereabouts. In the meanwhile, I need you to keep the situation in control here. Can you do this?"

Sebastian hangs his head. "No. More cases turn up every day, at a quicker rate than we can neutralize existing ones. And the damn algorithms are evolving; previously cleaned and protected node-terminals soon become infected and dangerous again. It's obvious that they're not only 'sleeping'."

Zakharov raises his eyebrows. "So, in fact, you'd welcome the assistance of the local militia?"

Captain Sebastian Steiner nods.

"Hah. Then so be it; I'm downgrading the security-rating of the operation to 'classified'. But not a single word of this can be read by anyone but those who absolutely need to know. Understand? Keep them as much in the dark as possible."

"Yes, Provost." Steiner turns to leave.

"One more thing, captain. Tell Professor Parks I require his assistance. He's one of the last people to see Aki Zeta-Five, and he even assisted her. If a merged human can trust, then she might just trust him. He should be close by if we find her."

"Yes, sir." The captain exits.

A short while later, Lewis Parks opens the door to the Parks' residence and motions for Steiner to enter.

"Come in! It's nice to see you again." He turns to a robot by the door. "Lugnut, serve Vodka for me and the Captain." The robot speeds off while Sebastian grimaces apologetically.

"I'm afraid I'm still on duty, strictly speaking. I must turn down the Vodka.."

Lewis raises his eyebrows. "Well then, Captain, how can I help you?"

"I'm here as a messenger at the moment.. Zakharov is finally allowing me to bring out the big guns to rid the University of sleeper algorithms. He's authorized the militia to help me.. but, as usual, I must keep them in the dark. Also... we're finally trying to find Aki Zeta-Five. And, in case we do, Zakharov wants you to be prepared. He thinks you are the best person to negotiate with her, since you have met her."

A light shines in Lewis' eyes. "Finally!"

End of Chapter 43.

**Raging Mouse** · August 21, 2000, 14:55

Chapter 44: Celan Barr

"The Drowning Larva" was illegal. All bars, taverns and restaurants serving alcohol were illegal. In the Hive, or the Peacekeepers, such establishments were in constant risk of being raided, since drug-abuse was considered serious.

The Cult of Planet did not consider drugs a problem. Some drugs were actually encouraged, like the quite toxic substance extracted from the purple bulges growing on kelp attacked by Reimhart's Syndrome -a disease rendering them inedible otherwise. Supposedly, it increased the user's affinity to the Planetmind. At least it induced hypersensitivity and sluggishness.

So the Drowning Larva was quite safe from intervention, provided it wasn't too visible. To this effect, the authorities had set up a repulsive field at the front entrance; The psionic field was quite effective in dissuading people from approaching. But the rear entrance had no such mental field on it, and nothing stopped sufficiently inquisitive people from finding it.

Celan Barr, second node-administrator of the ruby petal district (about six thousand computerized households), had found it. He'd searched for some exciting variation to his life other than the rapport offered to those willing to become caretakers of a mindworm-boil (or, if you were promising enough, locusts of Chiron), and hadn't even realized his search was over until he'd asked the barkeeper for a menu.

"Mennyou?" The barkeeper had asked slowly. "Whadda ya need mennyous four, anyways? I gots one poison only -'less yewwant some lehmonayde!" The barkeeper chuckled.

Reddening slightly, Barr had asked for a drink of -of whatever 'poison' it was.

And poison it had almost been. The idea of a highly alcoholic drink with a worm floating in the bottle was an old one, from Terra. But Chiron had some pretty deadly worms... In this case, the worm had been gutted, and it's intestines were floating on the bottom of the bottle together with the skin, stuffed with spices. The intestines were in no other way treated, and the alcohol extracted several complicated chemicals from them. The barkeeper had, with a leer, told Barr that he should begin with small doses -say, a thimbleful- until he got used.

He had heeded the advice. Later he learned that even some experienced drinkers didn't take more than a thimbleful of the drink, 'mindwarper' , mixed out by a glass of strong juice. He had woken up on a bed in one of the bar's back rooms. The barkeep had come in moments later, smiling, and presented him with a bill of tens of morgan-creds. He still had his money, and his identification; in fact, despite raving like a madman for more than two hours, no-one had used the opportunity in any way (partly because he had been entertaining to watch). If the officials would have found Barr in, say, the main street, drunk and robbed, it would have attracted much attention to the Drowning Larva.

Any attention was bad, for the same reason that Barr hadn't minded -he became, in fact, a regular customer. The drink was highly illegal, because of the mindworm. While the bar could serve alcohol with the minimum of inconvenience from the officials, any crime involving harming mindworms was punishable by death -by brood pit. Celan Barr had found all the excitement he could wish for.

That was two years ago. Now he could drink a thimbleful, diluted in mineral water, without the powerful nausea and spasms of the novice. He had learned to ingore the strong feeling of panic and disorientation. And beyond those he had found sense-experiences without description (and a huge drain on his life savings).

Today was special. He was having trouble ingoring the unpleasant sensations in favour of the fantastic, since he knew this was the last drink he could afford. He was behind on nearly all payments, and he ate very little food. His superiors had threatened to fire him, and the term 'unemployed' was unknown in the Cult of Planet. People with no other job were employed in the mindworm industry -as caretakers, breders.. or food. He knew what he qualified for. In a way, it was poetic justice considering his recurring crime these two years, but he was determined to avoid it.

That left the question, what now? How to afford more mindwarper?

"You could always find a second job."

He started. Despite the drink, he was certain he hadn't uttered the question out loud. And only now did he notice the figure sitting opposite to him. With a sinking feeling, he wondered if the authorities had entered unannounced..

"I'm not the militia. I have no intention of turning you in", the figure -a woman, Barr realized- whispered. So.. she could read his mind..

Yes I can. Relax, Celan Barr. I can solve all your problems. He felt a wave of relief flood into his mind, and the effect of the mindwarper increased to a level he had never experienced before. All of his normal senses were drowned out, and he floated in a limbo of the totally indescribable.

..Until he opened his eyes, with a curiously fresh feeling. Almost as if the two years had been a dream. There was no craving of mindwarp. Nothing! Only the woman in front of him, and his surroundings, told him his last two years had been spent in the sign of addiction.

Yes. Now he admitted it, when not a trace was left.

"Lady.. what have you done with me? I should be grateful, I suppose.."

A knowing smile interrupts his praise. "..But now you need something else to fill your days with excitement. I can provide."

He shook his head. "No, no more drugs. No more addiction."

"But you still are addicted to thrill, or excitement. Some way to escape the boredom of being second node-administrator.. and I have no intention of suppressing that."

He straightened up. "What do you want?" Actually, he found he had almost no reservations against dealing with this woman. She seemed to radiate trust.

"Nothing much, for the likes of you. Would you work against Cha Dawn for me?"

He should have jumped from his chair with a cry of 'traitor'. Illegal though this facility was, enemies of the Cult were not welcome. But he admitted to himself that this would be an act of hypocrisy. He loathed Cha Dawn, and knew of others who shared his feelings. People with 'disappeared' relatives. For a while, the image of his daughter -his intelligent daughter, who'd become a radical at the university- floated in front of him. Yet, speaking out loud opinions like that, in an insecure location, was equal to suicide.

Not that he had to speak. I can give you revenge.. but it is not my prime aim. It is merely a possible bonus.. if you will help me. You may also think of it as helping the Cult; people like yourself.

Finally, the penny dropped. Barr was looking at the face of a probe-operative. And he didn't mind.. that much. "I- The risks-"

She smiled. "I'll save you, should the public censors trace you." Again, Barr found himself trusting her. He realized with a surprise that he couldn't think of a single objection.

He nodded. "I'm listening. What do you need?" He felt thrill again, the entire world seemed to have shifted without moving; everything seemed exciting and new.

"An identity. I have, of course, many.. but I want some more. This should be no problem." Barr nodded. "Furthermore, I have use of additional manpower. Like-minded people in influental positions, and also people used to evading the law. You know of some; contact them.. And while you now won't spend your money on mindwarp, I will still pay you.. oh, five thousand morgan-credits per month. Only make sure you keep your newfound wealth hidden, understand? I will pay every person you recruit three thousand morgans per month, and a bonus of two hundred per month per person to you."

Barr's jaw slackened. His monthly pay was four hundred morgans; a very good pay by Cultist standards. Suddenly, he recalled the briefly overheard names of several already existing anti- Cha Dawn organisations. Some of those could without doubt provide many recruits of both kinds.

The woman nodded to herself and rose, as if to leave. Barr rose too. "Wait!" He realized he had raised his voice, and restored it to a low murmur. "How can I contact you? What is your name?"

She shook her head. "You can't contact me, but I will never be out of reach. You may call me.. 'Hubris'. Arrogant pride, which is what I'm fighting. I will return when you have found enough recruits."

Celan Barr smiled as she disappeared out the back door; he seemed to live an interesting life after all! Who would have believed it?

End of chapter 44.

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The Wizard of Chiron: Book Two

The Wizard of Chiron: Book Two

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