The Wizard of Chiron

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 30: Free Drone Central


Free Drone Central gave clashing impressions. For instance, most buildings were a polished rust-red colour. To the uninitiated, they were downright ugly. On the other hand, once you realized the general image resembled smooth desert rocks during the evening, the view became pleasing. More clashes were obvious inside the buildings; furniture was designed to be only moderately stylish; the Free Drones valued comfort higher. Most foreigners tended to frown at the decor until they actually used the chairs, sofas and beds. The same was true for clothing; their ratios of comfort versus style were inverted to that of the Morganites. Here Balbo's and Laysa's blue overalls fitted in perfectly (But they removed the logo of the rock-group), and Dorothy's normal white and red clothes were better suited, but much less comfortable than the Free Drones' similar.

Laysa had explained. "We have received tailors, seamstresses and cloth-manufacturers from every human faction on Planet. They all have something to contribute. Morgan Industries gives us designers. Your University gives us technology and equipment. The Gaians are experts on natural fabrics, like Planet's version of cotton. And so on. No wonder, then, that we can produce clothes that fit comfortably."

There was, indeed, a shop that offered University-style clothing, but generally much more comfortable models and in all sizes, and Steiner had paid for some new red and white clothes for Dorothy. "We might as well buy what we can use from here, before we move on."

Balbo and Laysa had become saddened by the talk of leaving. "We really think you are exaggerating the danger here. At least don't go until we have had an opportunity to exchange stories!"

Now they were walking down one of the main streets of Free Drone Central. Hundreds of shops, bars, casinos, restaurants, gaming halls and VR-domes promised to make you a poor but happy individual. Dorothy tugged on Steiner's arm. "Basti, must we leave? I think I could really like Free Drone Central."

Sebastian nodded. "I'm afraid we must. I'm really concerned about your safety, and even though we probably managed to fool the Consciousness into believing we are heading for University Base, I still want a little more headway. Besides, the Free Drones are also at war with the Cyborgs. Cyborg probe-teams are bound to show up. No, I think you'll be much safer in Data-Angel territory." He smiled slightly. "But if we lie low, we can stay here for a while. I understand that the Free Drones maintain very warm relations with the Data-Angels. This might aid us in crossing Morganite territory, but it will take a while to find out if this is so."

Dorothy was actually slightly looking forward to seeing the Data-Angels; mystic heroes of a thousand spy-holos. And there was another possible bonus. "Basti, can I get probe-training at the Data-Angels?"

Steiner smiled. "That's actually not such a bad idea; it'd definitely give you a better chance against the Cyborgs once they find us again. We might try to arrange some, as long as you don't neglect your other studies. Remember; we are hoping there will be a University to return to at the end of the war. In that case it's your knowledge of science that will be most important."

Balbo snapped his fingers. "I've got it! All of our probes receive some tutoring by the Data-Angels as an advanced course. There's regular transports arranged through Morgan Industries' territories for the probe-trainees, and they're supposed to find their way back by themselves. We could probably arrange for you to join one of the groups, provided that Foreman Domai authorizes it."

"That sounds as risky as the other options I have thought of, but at least we won't be alone if something goes wrong. How do we approach Domai?"

"Well, you can wait until he's scheduled to hold a people's conference here in Free Drone Central; uh, about two months from now. But you could also ask our foreman, Jasonian. He'll be able to make sure you can see Domai as soon as possible. He should be in Free Drone Central for most of the time. But I doubt that Jasonian and Domai will assist you for free."

"Naturally. What is Foreman Jasonian's title? I mean, what does he do?"

"You could say he's the mayor of Free Drone Central. He manages it's resources unless Domai has some special plans for it. Currently, he oversees the probe-operations that are staged from here, as well as overseeing the production. He makes sure Domai's assigned tasks are performed. Spark will receive the same status in Morgan Entertainment if he manages to keep the city."

"All right. Where's Jasonian's office?"

Balbo was confused. "Office? Foremen don't have offices. They are expected to deal with each task on it's location."

"Then how can we know where he is?"

"We can't. We'll call him, and then he tells us where to meet him."

Steiner looked down at Dorothy. "Well, I suppose we might as well get started. There'll be time to rest once we're metaphorically holding the tickets to Data Decentral."

Balbo produced a handheld comm-link. "All right; I, Laysa and Jim need to report to him as well. If I remember right, Jim's contract ends now."

"Where is Jim, by the way?"

"He said something about business errands and disappeared into the energy bank. I'll send him a message after I've contacted Jasonian." He dialed a number on the comm-link and waited.

"Hi! Yes, we're all back safe and sound, except for Spark, of course... Yes, that's right. No, I don't think Jim will accept another mission... You know him; once it's experienced it's not interesting for a decade or so. Anyway, I'll also bring one Lieutenant Sebastian Steiner, and of course Dorothy Parks... They want to meet Domai... As soon as possible; they're in a hurry... That's what I said, but they don't think so... I suggested using the probe-caravans... They should be able to; he's fully trained, after all... Got it. See you there."

He put away the comm-link. "All right; We'll meet him at the aerospace complex in one hour. I'll inform Jim."

The hour was spent browsing in shop-windows. Eventually, Dorothy, Steiner, Balbo and Laysa met Jim at the aerospace complex. Jim was already talking to Jasonian.

Jasonian was almost patriotic in his conflicting appearance. Standing nearly two meters tall and extremely powerful, he was clad in jeans and a denim jacket. But he was surrounded by assistants and functionaries, and was busy signing documents and inspecting charts that they handed to him. He wore smoked, circular dataglasses, and a varying red or green glow on his face revealed the torrent of information scrolling by on them.

In short, his appearance was a dockworker and president of a hi-tech company combined.

Balbo and Laysa approached, and Jasonian waved away the assistants. He pushed up the dataglasses onto his forehead.

"Balbo and Laysa, good to see you again! Jim here has already briefed me on the mission, and given his views on the group in general."

Laysa grinned. "Oh dear. We're in trouble now."

Jasonian chuckled and shook his head. "It was all praise, I assure you. And I have only praise to add. Of course, there was one dangerous point where the absence of Dorothy would have been disastrous, so part of the praise should go to her." Jasonian hunched down to bring his head level (or at least nearly) with Dorothy's. "And here you are, Dorothy. What does your person tell us? Will MMI:s soon rule the world as something humans can't survive without? Will this be good or bad? What do you think?"

Dorothy hesitated. "I don't know."

"But I think I do." Jasonian was silent for a while. "Balbo and Laysa, you have done an excellent job. Since you are the highest-ranking members of the probe-team now that Spark is on his way to getting a city to run, you are the new foremen of the team. You'll need to find three new members, to fill up your previous positions and also to replace Jim here. He's decided not to renew his contract."

Jim noted their saddened faces and shrugged slightly. "You know me. I'm not the settling down -type. I'll move on to new adventures. In fact-" He turned to Steiner. "I'd like to accompany you to the Data Angels. It seems like you're in for some exciting times, and I'd like to go along for the ride. If it's okay with you."

Dorothy jumped up and down, excitedly voicing her approval, and Steiner smiled slightly. "You're welcome to join us. And I'd really appreciate if you could act as Dorothy's mentor. We're far outside the lands where a standard University education will be of use; she needs to know the ways of the world." He held out his right hand.

Jim shook it. "Deal."

Jasonian turned to Balbo and Laysa. "Now, your team has four weeks of rest. Part of this time I'd like you to spend in the name of progress." He glanced at Dorothy. "The world is moving into the age of the mind/machine interface, and you must move with the times to stay effective as probe-operatives. So I've authorized both of you for interfaces." He smiled slightly and glanced at Dorothy again. "They are neural-optic. I decided to negotiate with the University for a thousand of them, after the excellent reviews you two gave me. They didn't ask for much in return; merely two assault choppers. Of course, you don't have to accept the interfaces, but I think you can see the need for them."

Balbo and Laysa nodded silently and glanced at each other and Dorothy. Jasonian turned to Steiner.

"You should know that I've already talked to Domai about you. He's wants to meet you and Dorothy the day after tomorrow. He knows why you want to talk to him, so he should have some answers by then. In the meanwhile, you will be assigned a flat in the hab-complex. It's not big, but it's yours for as long as you stay here."

Steiner nodded. "Thank you."

"My working day ends in four hours. I'd like to meet all of you, and hear about your adventures and discuss what the future will bring."

They all agree. They meet Jasonian after work and spend the evening at a restaurant. Steiner, Jim, Balbo and Laysa do most of the talking, with occasional comments by Dorothy. Steiner notes with some concern that Jasonian never asks any specifics about Dorothy's MMI. Probing questions are better than silence.

End of chapter 30.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 31: Meetings


See Domai.

He was sitting on a bench on top of Free Drone Central's external shell. Despite being several hundred meters above the ground, the wind was only a slight breeze. It had too little power to grab at his short hair, but it's touch was pleasant on the parts of his face not covered by the breather. Up here, where only his personal assistant and guard and a select few others followed, he could relax. His posture was restful, and his face seemed much older; shaped by hard work and great struggle.

So different from the image on the holovisions, Dorothy thought. Her long hair was easily gripped by the wind, and the breather she was wearing felt uncomfortable.

The leader of the Free Drones seemed to radiate comfort and calm, and overall the atmosphere was relaxed.

"Officially, I have eight hours of work. Same as all adult Free Drone citizens. But that is never enough, and I'd hate to delegate any more than I already have. So I try to find the most comfortable places for the extra work that has to be done. About fifty years back or so I tried working up here for the first time, and ever since, the sound of Planet's winds has been my number one choice whenever I need to relax. And the view is stunning, of course. I'd practice hang-gliding, but it's considered dangerous enough to be showing lack of responsibility to the Free Drones."

He sighed. "Anyway, everybody has understood my reason for being up here, and they tend to leave me undisturbed unless some emergency occurs. Also, up here it's very hard to eavesdrop or hide listening-devices without being detected. Up here we can talk freely. I want you to understand this."

He waited until both Dorothy and Steiner had nodded. Then he leaned forward. "Now, what is so special about you, Dorothy? What do you have that is so precious? And don't give me that same answer about your father. I won't believe you."

Dorothy was taken aback. "I.. I.." Steiner interrupted. "Why do you ask so?"

Domai leaned back again. "Two days ago, when you had left Morgan Entertainment, a diplomat from the Cybernetic Consciousness approached me with an unusual proposal. They'd withdraw from around Morgan Entertainment if we asked Zakharov to surrender Dorothy to them. She claimed that Zakharov was keeping you from being reunited with your parents. But thanks to our close cooperation with the Data-Angels we are quite aware of the Consciousness' desire for talents, so naturally I didn't believe her and told her to disappear. But diplomatically. Further, the diplomat almost admitted they were behind the kidnappings, even though it's one of the Consciousness' most defended secrets. So I wonder: Why are the Cyborgs so eager to get you that they jeopardize their entire talent-extraction program? It's not only the University they target, you see."

Steiner sighed and scratched his head. "I can't tell you much without permission from Zakharov. But.. Dorothy has successfully resisted one attempt at merging with the Consciousness. I suppose they are quite concerned this ability might spread."

Domai nodded. "That could seriously endanger their further expansion." He was silent for some time. "But you already admitted this isn't everything. However, it's enough for the moment. There's a group of probe trainees leaving for the Data-Angels in two weeks' time, and you can travel together with them. In return, I might ask you for a favour some time in the future. Okay?"

Steiner nodded. "All right. By the way, what was the name of the diplomat?"

"Rita Gamma-206. A quite charismatic woman." Domai noticed how pale Dorothy had gone. "Do you know her?"

Steiner nodded grimly. "She's a probe-operative, and the very person that managed to trick Dorothy into attempting a merger. Last time I saw her she was participating in the attempted kidnapping of Dorothy, and the successful kidnapping of Dorothy's parents. She's bad news."

Domai frowned. "Oh dear." He turned to his assistance. "Alert the covert-ops center. She must be under constant surveillance."

Steiner gaped. "She's still here?"

Domai shrugged. "Why not? Sounds like the University Counterintelligence knows her face; so she changed target faction. We have a very low ratio of talents in our cities, so we haven't been that good targets up to now, I suppose. It will give us an opportunity to study the Consciousness and it's techniques, as I'm sure she'll try to find new subjects for merging." He smiled. "Your presence has already been beneficial, since we now know the danger she represents. You will be rewarded somehow." He nodded. "I think that concludes our business. If you have any further need to contact me, go to Jasonian. He's usually able to get a message through."

He stood up and shook hands with Steiner. Then he turned to Dorothy. "The family is important within the Free Drones, and we believe in defending it. So I hope you someday will be able to see your parents again with their minds freed from the Consciousness."

Dorothy nodded. "Thank you."

After Steiner and Dorothy had gone, Domai admired the view for a moment. Then he sighed, and signalled to his assitant. "All right. Show me the magnetic survey-chart of area fifteen again..."


****


Now see Rita Gamma-206 Koskinen sit down at a table in one of Free Drone Central's restaurants.

Few non-merged actually believed there was a Consciousness. They thought the Cyborgs were merely mind-controlled by individual algorithms. Some, like the Believers, thought the entire faction actually was quasi-religious, and that their praise of logic above emotions was the result of some obscure philosophy. But those, again like the Believers, usually had almost no regular contact with the Cyborgs.

Those who knew better generally let the topic lie; it was too unsettling to ponder deeply on the consequences such a Consciousness could have. They might sometimes stop and ask themselves; 'exactly what is the consciousness?' 'Is there really some entity or system governing Cybernetic society in general, and perhaps even influencing the actions of specific individuals?' Those few who continued still down the path of questions -usually people paid to think like this- found several new questions: 'Where, exactly, does it reside? What is it's speed of reaction? Since it, supposedly, consists of every merged individual of the Cyborgs, how does it think? The distances involved are extreme, after all. And what, exactly, is it's psychological profile?'

The Consciousness, of course, did exist. And not only as a metaphor, or even only Cybernetic. All humans knew of mass-psychology, and had expressions like 'the community', 'people could talk', or 'the voice of the crowd'. General opinion, in other words. Megatrends.

But the merged algorithms were what made the Cyborgs stand out from this crowd of crowds. Theoretically every algorithm was networked to every other algorithm, but practically this would be true only if every single member of the Consciousness was connected to a true network via MMI. The algorithmic parts of the merged individuals did communicate by other means, however. Simple face-to-face talking, or watching Cybernetic HV-programs, was enough. It was slow and didn't manage to relay data flawlessly, but it was enough to mimic the behaviour of two neurons in a mind. And these two 'neurons' were in contact with several others..

The fact that the Consciousness was strategically macchiavellian, but tactically pacifistic, had been deduced quickly. The Cyborgs had participated in numerous short-lived human/human vendettas with the Gaians and the University, and had occasionally lost a city or two as the borders shifted back and forth. The opposition found, to their surprise, that no merged individuals continued to resist when it was obvious one of their cities under siege was about to fall.

A simple explanation: Dead brains would not support the Consciousness. The short-term goal was, of course, to make the Cybernetic Consciousness the most powerful faction on Planet. But the main goal of the Consciousness was survival, and Cyborg society recognized the fact that there could be a day when an unmerged human would be the leader of all Cyborgs. The scenario was to be avoided at all costs, but even so.. it was possible. So, to minimize the damage caused by a conquered Consciousness, all merged Cyborgs usually surrendered when their city was conquered, and then worked on for the new administration as if nothing had happened.

Of course, the new administration seldom left them totally unmolested, but the University and the Gaians did generally respect the human rights -declaration. To decrease the mistrust, the Consciousness split in two, divided simply by the fact that there was a national border between the two halves (the conquered city and rest of the Consciousness). Most 'neural communication' of the Consciousness occurred face-to-face, during normal talk, so the boundary was effective as long as it was closed. And if the relations between the Cyborgs and the invading faction thawed, allowing people to travel, or if the city was recaptured, the two different Consciousnesses fused into one.

Having an algorithm with strange ideas about communication in your head gave secondary benefits as well. Rita opened the menu on a page at random, and looked over the top of it. She saw a man at another table do the same. Then the man's eyes started darting this way and that, apparently at random, but Rita's algorithm could translate:

"Message sixty-one from Armand: Subject Dorothy Parks presumed in University territory. Maintain standard intensity of talent -acquisition program. Use reserve assets to find data on location of Dorothy Parks. Message ends."

She responded. "Message to Armand: Message sixty-one received and understood. Message ends."

"Would you like to order now, madame?"

Rita glanced up at the waiter. "Yes, please; I'll have your marinated xenoannelids."

"And to drink?"

"Mineral water."

If there ever was any doubt that humans were unwelcome guests of this world then any attempt at eating the indigenous flora or fauna quickly did away with it. The biochemistries simply were too alien. Even when most of the alien proteins had been disintegrated by extreme amounts of cooking were there some chemical traces left that were unhealthy for humans to ingest, but an additional application of alcohol dissolved those effectively. The end product was edible, but not very pretty to look at, and connoisseurs regularly varied the recipe, or relaxed the guidelines for safe amounts of cooking, to find out what Planet really tasted like. Opinions were of course varied, with an end-product so removed from it's original state, and ranged from 'interesting' to 'nauseating'.

To Rita's mind it was nothing but nutrition. Her merged algorithm made sure it tasted good, since it would give plenty of the necessary ingredients of life in correct proportions. She did, however, note the excellently arranged fig-leaves on the plate, and the innovative positioning of parsley around the mound of purplish-gray goo that was the actual food. The cook knew his decorating, and had an eye for detail and order, even when his task was impossible.

She (literally) made a mental note to include him as a candidate for the talent-acquisition program. Then she summoned the waiter to pay her bill, pushed her chair back, stood up and exited the restaurant. The Free Drone agent following her every move had no idea something other than an ordinary meal had occurred.


End of chapter 31.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 32: The Road and The Guide


Dorothy studied the map with interest. "Why is it called that?"

Jim smiled. "It's a pun on names. It's actually the name for our route, and involves several different roads." He indicated a dotted line on the map. "It begins here, at Morgan Processing, and ends at Morgan Construction, close to the Data-Angel border. From those we get bricks, right? And the Morganite colour of choice is yellow. A yellow brick road."

Steiner looked approvingly at the map. "It passes by four cities, none of them that large, and keeps clear of Morgan Industries. Perfect. Only problem is, it follows the coast. Less dirctions to run in if we are detected."

Jim chuckled. "You forget who you're travelling with. I can enter most ports on Planet and find someone ready to help. Water is no barrier on this journey."

"I'm slightly stupid, right? Who are our travelling companions?"

"Eight promising probe-cadets led by a seasoned Data-Angel probe-operative. You won't know the cadets' real names, and they'll decide for themselves what they'd like to be called. It's both a silly tradition and a reasonable defense against the possibility of capture and interrogation. They'll 'earn' the right to use their real names once they've been on a handful of actual missions. And the Data-Angel's name; well, whatever he fancies at the moment."

The two weeks had gone by quickly. With most of the continent at war, the need for entertainment was at an all-time high, and downtown Free Drone Central looked like a collision between a fun-fair and a carnival. The contrast between worrying over the latest news from the fronts by day and seeking fun and laughter by night fitted well in with the rest of the contradictions in the Free Drones' nature.

And now the time to leave had come. Dorothy, Jim and Sebastian had travelled by mag-tube to Spanner Works early this morning, after an awkward farewell by Balbo and Laysa. Domai hadn't contacted them any further, but Jasonian had delivered his best wishes.

Right now they would meet the team and find out the details of the trip. Spanner Works was mainly a garrison-city, since it was as close to the morgan borders as possible. Morgan Processing was less than three hundred kilometers away. So far only small skirmishes involving recon units had erupted in the intervening terrain, as the two countries probed for an opening in each others' defenses, and so the route was as safe as possible, all things considered. But the Free Drones had prepared for eventual hostilities, and Spanner Works had a command center in it's garrison for better maintenance of it's forces. The three soon-to-be travellers stood in front of the center's five-storey surface structures. Jim could tell Dorothy that underground were sixty additional floors; high enough for vehicles of war to navigate and wide enough to house several hectares of simulated wilderness on one single floor.

Sebastian turned to Jim. "What next? Do we go in or what?"

Jim shook his head. "The officer who gave me this map said to wait outside. Someone will meet us."

Dorothy was uncertain. She had a nagging feeling something was wrong. Like, for instance, who was this man standing by her side? The stranger had approached several minutes ago and listened to the group's discussion with interest, yet neither Jim nor Sebastian seemed to notice. Dorothy hadn't really bothered about him much either, and it was beginning to worry her. Surely there was something odd about not minding a stranger intruding on a discussion? And he hadn't uttered a sound, only listened.

Dorothy found she had great trouble deciding what to do about him. She became annoyed, gathered her willpower and faced the man. The action was inexplicably draining, and she had to take some deep breaths before speaking. The man was watching her with an expression halfway between mirth and satisfaction.

"Excuse me, but who are you?"

Sebastian and Jim didn't look up from the map. The man quenched a half-formed grin and assumed a neutral expression. "Call me Merlin. Or, if you prefer my honorary name, the Wizard of Chiron."

"Merlin? That can't be your real name. Are you the Data-Angel we're supposed to meet?"

He nodded. A weight seemed to lift from Dorothy's thoughts, and she tugged on Jim's arm.

"Jim! This is Merlin; the Data-Angel!"

Jim glanced briefly at Dorothy and nodded. "Yes, that's good", he mumbled and returned to discussing the route with Sebastian. Dorothy gazed at him wide-eyed, while Merlin chuckled.

"A Data-Angel I am, and a probe-operative too, but look again at me, Dorothy! Do you see a single electronic gadget? Am I wearing a pocket computer? Do I have a sixty-channel commlink? No. So what am I?"

Dorothy shook her head in confusion. "I- I- maybe you left them in your room.."

Merlin sniffed and shook his head slightly. "Guess again." And let me give you a hint.

Dorothy's eyes widened. She was certain the last sentence had reached her mind without entering her ears. Merlin nodded slightly.

"I am a telepath. Not an empath, or a spiritual healer, or anything else, but a true psionicist. If there's a flaw in my skills it's my tendency to brag about them." He gave an embarrassed chuckle. "Sorry about the introduction, but I like to awe people. I've found it pays to do that."

Jim and Sebastian straightened up from the map, seemingly satisfied with whatever they had discussed. Dorothy tried tugging Jim's sleeve again. "Jim, this is Merlin. The Data-Angel."

Jim glanced down at Dorothy, and then gazed at Merlin. He seemed quite surprised. "I'm so sorry, I should've been paying attention to my surroundings. Nice to meet you.. uh, what did Dorothy say.. Merlin? As in the wizard?"

Merlin held out his hand. "Indeed. Of course, I'm interested in knowing exactly which one of the five hundred and sixteen different wizards named Merlin you are referring to."

Jim shook hands with him. "The one and only; fabled King Arthur's protector."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "Really? Well, I chose the name while watching a bad holovid. That Merlin was another one altogether. But.. I've studied the name since, and the persons myth and Morgan Entertainment have presented with it. So, yes, nowadays it refers to aforementioned wizard of albion." He turned to Sebastian and held out his hand again. "Good day, lieutenant Steiner. How is life treating you?"

Sebastian flashed a brief smile. "With concrete baseball-bats at the moment. So.. the Angels have a psionics-program?"

"Well done, Lieutenant! What betrayed me? I know you didn't pay attention when I talked to Dorothy.."

"The University has it's own psionics-experiments, of course, and one thing we have learned is; few psionicists bother to clean up their subjects' memories. So you'll 'wake up' with a recollection of doing something really stupid.. Know yourself well enough, and you'll know you've been manipulated. But if I know you people well enough you probably stole your program off someone.."

"We didn't have to. The Gaians were kind enough to show us some of their best tricks.. In fact, I was one of the probe-operatives to receive tutelage. Anyway, they've had several opportunities to regret it since. But, lady and gentlemen, shall we proceed?"

He led them to a door into the command center. Once past the standard trio of security-stations the ground floor adapted the atmosphere of a corporate office, except for all the military uniforms. Merlin led them to an elevator and bade them enter. There was only one button inside the elevator, and it flashed briefly green as he pressed it. Jim shook his head.

"This elevator takes you to only one floor?"

"Only one, yes, but any one nevertheless. It takes me only to the floor I am authorized to visit; anyone else using this elevator would go to another floor or to the detention cells, depending on their clearance or lack of it. I don't see the point of it myself."

"Surely it makes life difficult for anyone trying to break into another floor? I suppose there's no other way but the elevators?"

Merlin shrugged. "There's no other way you or I could reach, but for a telekinetic it's as difficult to pass as cobweb. Yes, I hear you say, you'd have to be some freak to unlock the doors since even lifting a coffee-mug is a challenge. But hey, I can push around any number of electrons. And that's all it takes in this day and age. You must understand, the Free Drones haven't studied psionics. They think it's not worth the effort." He grinned. "We made them believe that."

Sebastian's eyes gleamed, and he smiled slightly. "I haven't met a faction before that hugs you and stabs you in the back at the same time."

Jim nudged him. "I've met them, and they think it's your own fault if you didn't prepare for the possibility of the dagger. Beware the ides of march, you know."

Sebastian nodded. The elevator slowed down and bumped to a halt, and the doors opened. Beyond it was a hybrid of a military parking lot and goods-storage. There were actual shelves, among the piles of crates and heaps of barrels, containing readily assembled combat vehicles; the room was high enough to allow stacks four vehicles high. One of the first things Dorothy saw was the roof-mounted rails; a powerful-looking crane was slowly inching its way along them, with an armored truck swinging at the end of it's chain.

A lieutenant was standing right outside the elevator doors. He nodded at Merlin and glanced briefly at Sebastian, Jim and Dorothy while comparing entries on a notepad to a pile of miscellaneous equipment on a table.

"You three! You're the hangers-on of the probe-team, right? Then this is your equipment minus your stealth-suits. I'll recite this list and you'll pack the items I mention into these two bags. The girl will carry whatever she can. Once everything's packed I'll take you to the fitting station, where you'll get your suits and helmets." He waited until Jim and Sebastian both had grabbed a bag and were waiting by the pile of equipment. Then he started shouting out the entries on his list, checking them off one last time as the corresponding items were packed.

Merlin watched, slightly amused, as the bags were packed. Then he glanced at Dorothy. Do you know what a stealth-suit is? Dorothy's forehead furrowed as she lined up her answer in her head, and Merlin smiled. [/I]Good first try at passive telepathic communication. I'll teach you how to do it properly if we've got time during the trip. But for now, just nod or shake your head. Don't bother with explaining; I'll find out what you mean if I'm unsure.[/I]

Dorothy gave a short nod and then shook her head vigorously. Merlin nodded. That's good. Well, you've seen some spy-holos haven't you? The probe-operative puts on an extra shirt and tights, and voila! He's invisible to every sensor and radar there is. Yes? Well, the truth is a lot less effective and several orders of magnitude more bulky. Put on more equipment than an ice-hockey goalie and you might not show up on their radar this time. It's not a very dependable piece of clothing, but a probe-team needs all the equipment it can get. Now, that was the indoor -version. What we will wear is the outdoor version, with integrated nitrogen-filters and weather insulation.

Dorothy was surprised to hear his telepathic sigh. With that description you'll get a basic idea why it's a good idea to make sure the suit fits. You wouldn't be able to move otherwise. Another sigh echoed through Dorothy's head. Another untruth is how you use the suit. Since the suit's radar- and IR-stealth is unreliable you'd be a fool to stroll right past the radar-dish or camera. You're much safer at the outer edge of the surveillance-equipment's field of view. That's why the suit has several passive IR- and radar sensors, further increasing it's bulk. And, of course, it assumes the same approximate colour and pattern as the nearest surface, in order to fool visual inspection.

Merlin turned to watch Jim and Sebastian for a while. They were busy inspecting an atmospheric tent for any damage. He turned back to Dorothy as the lieutenant shouted out the next item on the list, a miniature atmosphere purifier. I have a Data-Angel stealth-suit. It's less bulky than the Free Drone version you'll receive, but it is still a pain to wear. Also, I can monitor the sensors' output and control the suit's functions with telepathic commands; I don't need an MMI or, planet forbid, manual controls to do that. You, however, will have to learn manual contro-

Dorothy frowned and shook her head. Merlin was silent for some time. You have an MMI? Lucky for you. The adapter won't be a problem. Anyway, the actual travelling will happen using a rover with atmospheric sealing. But we'll still wear our suits inside it, in case of an emergency.

The lieutenant lowered his notepad and nodded. "All right, that's your equipment packed. Follow me, and we'll get you some stealth-suits.

An hour later Dorothy walked back and forth a bit to get the feel of her stealth-suit and test it's functions. It was heavy and clumsy, no doubt about that, and when she tried on the helmet she found it severely restricted her field of vision and blocked out most external sounds. An internal headset with microphone allowed communication with the rest of the team, and Dorothy could also use her MMI for this.

Sebastian and Jim had both worn stealth-suits before. They spent a little time exploring the variations of these suits to the ones they were used to, and once they felt comfortable they watched Dorothy and gave her some advice on how to conserve energy while wearing the suit.

Merlin, who was also watching her, nodded with satisfaction. "One advantage you do have over us adults is your size; it presents a significantly smaller profile to any scanners, thus increasing your odds of staying undetected. Well, if you're all ready now, I think it's time to meet the rest of the team and get going." He smiled. "The team doesn't know yet that you are coming along. It will be a test of how they quickly adapt to a new situation."

He led them back to the elevator. Dorothy had expected to return to the surface, and the elevator indeed climbed higher, but it stopped while yet underground and the doors opened onto a cavernous garage. Row upon row of different vehicles could be seen, with an occasional mechanic in between. Virtually every variation of the rover used for warfare was represented, usually in both tracked and wheeled versions and some also with amphibious capability. The garage was huge- Dorothy could see a pair of armored terraformers, ten meters high, and they barely reached halfway to the ceiling.

They walked among the various vehicles, the purpose of some obvious while others were only with difficulty linked in any way to warfare, until they reached two large transport rovers; squat, wide vehicles with eight large wheels. Eight men and women clad in stealth-suits were inspecting the rovers. They looked up as Merlin called out a greeting and approached.

"Cadets, I'd like you to meet Dorothy Parks, Lieutenant Sebastian Steiner and Jim Sturlasson alias Seven-Seas-Jimmy." Merlin nodded at each person as he presented them. "And these are my current charges; may I present Static, whose expertise is communications and navigating, Sparky, electronics and optics, Data, programming and electronic warfare, Biff, weapons and equipment, Grinder, mechanics and vehicles, Mercury, demolition and sniping, Sister, medicine and surgery and finally Hatchet, the tactician and their future boss."

A general shaking of hands plus some small-talk took place until Merlin bade them to listen. "Cadets, these three will be joining us, and you are ordered to provide reasonable assistance and protection to them during the journey. Since both lieutenant Steiner and Jim are veterans of previous probe-teams they should be able to look after themselves, so the main concern will be Dorothy. She's very smart and will learn quickly, however. Now, there's twelve of us and the rovers take eight people each. Hatchet, assign us to the vehicles."

The probe-trainees were still digesting the fact that they had additional companions, but Hatchet, a short, dark man in his twenties, visibly pushed his musings aside and nodded at Merlin. "Sparky, Data, Biff, Grinder, Mercury and Sister, you take one rover. Grinder will drive and Data will man the radio. I will drive the second rover and Static will operate it's comm-links. Merlin, Sebastian, Jim and Dorothy; you will also travel in the second rover."

"Good. Let's go."


Soon the two rovers drive to a vehicle elevator big enough to lift both to the surface at the same time. A large trapdoor opens up above them, and the vehicles emerge in the light of Planet's afternoon. After some final checks they dwindle to mere clouds of dust racing towards the horizon.


End of chapter 32.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 33: Losing hope.


See the burning remains of Morgan Entertainment.

"Are those the last ones?"

"They are the last ones we'll be able to send, sir."

Eternal Spark inspected the train of refugees with a somber mood. "This is my city. I've worked for several years to bring it to the Free Drones, and the position of mayor was my reward." He turned around and let his gaze wander over the monitors showing live images from the aerial cameras. A seemingly endless stream of Cybernetic troops was pouring into the ruined perimeter of the city. "And now these powergrabbers are seizing it." He let out a sigh. His aide needed no explanation to understand how he felt.

"Maybe you'll be back one day, sir."

"Look at the monitors, Planet be damned! What's left to return to?"

"There's still a population of two thousand here. The city will survive."

"A city will survive. Whatever it will be, it won't be Morgan Entertainment anymore."

A drawn-out boom and the sound of shifting rubble with sporadic cracks from nearby buildings reminded Spark that he was not out of harm's way. He stretched and turned away from the monitors. "We're leaving. Tell those who still can to detach from the fighting and retreat as fast as possible."

The aide nodded and hurried away. Spark signalled a couple of soldiers who started packing the monitors and recall the spyplanes. He walked over to his rover, and as he approached he heard the beeping from the comm-link. He entered quickly, sealed the cockpit and removed his breather. Then he opened the comm-link and saw Jasonian looking back at him from the monitor.

"Hello, Spark. Damn bad luck with Morgan Entertainment, but that's how things can go. Anyway, you aren't the only one retreating at the moment. We've got word that the University has lost four cities since the war started, and they are trying to build some new ones as far away from the cyborgs as possible; out in their archipelago. Of course, that puts them in the line of fire from the Pirates. And we're not far behind; five of our cities are under siege by either Morganite or Cyborg forces, and I want you and your troops to reinforce the closest one; Liberty Plant."

Spark nodded and started the rover, his own troubles now in the past. "My ETA will be two days. Will they survive that long?"

"Sure. They're besieged by Morganite forces, and there's no sign of an attempt to finish the siege yet."

"That's odd. You'd expect the Cyborgs to tell them to strike while the odds are reasonable."

"Indeed. I can't tell you details, but we've observed several occasions where the Consciousness has withheld critical information from both the Gaians and the Morganites."

Spark's mood brightened. "Is their alliance falling apart, maybe?"

"Hardly. The Consciousness is really making an effort to keep both the Gaians and the Morganites happy in each others' company. We've detected no sign of any discontent."

"Then what's the point? They're hurting their own war-effort."

"We don't know yet. We'll find out when it hits us, I suppose."

Spark grimaced slightly while steering the Rover around a pile of rubble. "I've taken enouth hits already, thank you very much."

"I know what you mean. Well, I wish you luck."

"Ditto." Spark closed the comm-link.


***


See the calm interior of a gaming hall at Alpha Prime.

Alert. Approaching entity recognized as Vasily Beta-9. This might be the opportunity you need, Lewis. Remember not to let your emotions show.

Thank you, I've argued with enough idiots over some insignificant detail or other in some new theory of mine to become good at that, Lewis thought. He was studying a game of chess, played by two merged talents, in order to improve his own game. Lewis was officially a member of the Consciousness now, and his type of genius was easily boosted by the Algorithm, so he had to work hard to keep up the illusion. While Kappa-44 could give some good advice, the algorithm was of far less help than a true merged one.

Lewis made no move to show he had noticed Vasily until the man stopped in front of him. Then Lewis looked up at him with a blank expression. "Vasily Beta-9. Alias Beta. Why do you approach me?"

Beta gave Lewis a searching look. "Your merger was unlikely. I am curious as to how it was done."

"I was tricked. The Consciousness is a master of intrigue, and my independent intellect was no match in the end." Your performance is satisfactory so far, Kappa told him.

"Really? Yet it falls short of my own skills, and not because I would have more calculating power, but because I see more options at every moment a choice has to be made." He grinned. "And don't argue that the Consciousness sees every logical choice, because it isn't true. I have studied the matter intensely."

"How is it lacking?"

"In imagination. It always plays safe! That's no road to success, since there's some brilliant risk-takers out there, at the head of the other factions, who can reap much bigger rewards from every opportunity with an action that would defy common logic. Fundamentally, it's the Consciousness' urge to survive that prohibits the taking of unnecessary risks, but I am convinced it will be it's undoing in the long run."

Are you getting all this? Lewis wondered. Vasily Beta-9 is displaying seriously aberrant behaviour, but it is not yet enough to warrant action. You must gather more data.

"Why do you tell me this? I am part of the Consciousness, as are you. It is the ultimate dictator of our actions, and we cannot digress from it's goals."

"You are wrong. I am not chained by the Consciousness; I am offering to free you from it's influence. Let's build a new Cybernetic order; one that doesn't shirk any opportunity." Beta straightened up and swept his right arm in a wide arc. "All this could be put to so much more efficient use, if only someone with the right prerequisites would assume control. And that person is me. I am the future, Lewis Kappa-44, and I am offering you a part in it since I know you are very talented and have some revolutionizing ideas. I could even give you my greatest gift; teach you how to expand your own mind to incorporate other bodies. The initial process is very difficult, but in the end all efforts are extremely rewarding."

He looked down at Lewis again. "You don't have to give me an answer right now. But hurry nevertheless, for I shall seize command over the Cybernetic Consciousness momentarily and will not tolerate hesitation. And remember- try to warn anyone and your life will be forfeit."

How about now, Lewis thought. Yes. That is more than enough; the Consciousness will be satisfied. try to dismiss him quickly.

"I am not convinced yet. I know you have the capacity to lie, and I will not even attempt to discern your possible motives. I will, as you would say, play it safe. You will have my answer once it is clear to me."

The beginnings of a smile twitched for an instant on Beta's face, but his eyes remained cold. "How disappointing. But my offer still stands, should you be able to break your mould and leap to a favourable conclusion. Until then."

Beta turned around abruptly and walked away. You should hurry to contact Bearcat Omega-seven, Kappa-44 told him. Not yet, Lewis thought. Let's wait until Beta is out of sight. Why would he look back? Because wasting no time to stop him is very logical.

Beta turned his head and glanced back at Lewis over his shoulder, causing Lewis to grin inwardly. See? Yes. But you have only proved he is a very talented schemer. You cannot claim to be able to tell what conclusions he will draw from your actions. An educated guess will suffice.

He let his gaze wander over the game-hall.

Do you see any other Beta-entities, Kappa? No. There are no Beta-entities in this room that I can identify. Well, I'm not taking any chances. Let's wait some more and then take a detour to central admin.

Ten minutes later one of the players gave up (but Lewis couldn't see why), and a new game was started. Lewis walked away to the nearest public comm-link and called Bearcat Omega-Seven.

"Bearcat, I am ready."

A short moment of silence followed. "Meet me at the entrance to central admin."

Lewis found the nearest intra-rail station, and the trip to central admin was short. Bearcat was waiting at the rail-station. "Have you witnessed enough to convince Kappa-44?"

"That's what it says."

Bearcat was silent for some time. "Such a scenario as this is unusual."

Lewis' brow furrowed. "That's your way of saying you're concerned?"

More silence. "That is a satisfactory approximation. Yes, you could say I am 'concerned'. To be exact, the likelyhood of these events was considered so infitesimal that any detailed planning of contingencies was considered a waste of resources until abundant processing power would become available. But as the Consciousness expanded and research accelerated, we have always had too little."

"So now you're reduced to making up plans as you go along, eh? That must be stressful..."

Bearcat didn't bother to answer, instead walking down the tunnel to the thirteenth core. Lewis followed him, whistling softly.

"Lewis, you are uncharacteristically relaxed today. What is the matter?"

"Well, a thought struck me as I was travelling here." He whistled another short tune.

"And the thought is.." Being merged tended to increase people's patience.

"What? Oh, yes. Is there anything at all preventing this Beta from assimilating persons and algorithms from other classes? Say, Kappa- or Omega-algorithms?"

Bearcat stopped. "I see where your line of thought leads."

"Right. So who's to say that, even though the thirteenth core won't have any Beta-algorithms present right now, any of those bigwigs aren't really another incantation of Beta?"

"Their behavioural patterns change."

"That's no certain indicator. I managed to fool Beta into believing I had been merged -I think- and you people, including Beta, are much better at acting than I. You don't get nervous."

"Then; Beta seemingly believes you are truly merged."

"So maybe he hadn't expanded outside the betas yet, back then. Anyway, I get the feeling your government usually doesn't engage in careless small-talk. So Beta wouldn't have found out in the interim. No; there's a real possibility that he/she/it has infiltrated the inner circle."

Bearcat was silent. "Then we have reached a cul-de-sac. We must warn the inner circle, and there's a very high probability that Beta will find out." More silence. "Let's return to the entrance. I intend to summon all the military forces and probe-teams I can muster. Based on Beta's estimated total influence it won't be enough to keep the inner circle safe, but it might give us time to.. evacuate. That this very action might alert Beta is a risk I am authorized to take."

Lewis followed Bearcat silently back to the mouth of the tunnel, brooding over his words. Bearcat probably had a much more exact general picture of how influential Beta was, and the rogue algorithm would have to be mighty indeed to cause Bearcat to plan for evacuation of the inner circle. Lewis' worries over his immediate future were disrupted as Bearcat grabbed his shoulder.

"Are you ready? I cannot guarantee your safety once we inform the inner circle, as my first priority will be to protect them. Stay close to me and watch my back in case the situation turns threatening."

Lewis nodded, and they walked back into the tunnel.


End of chapter 33.

[Raging Mouse]

Chapter 34: Systems Breakdown


The thirteenth door opens, and two figures emerge. They walk up to the balustrade circling the open middle of the chamber and stop, taking a moment to investigate the room and it's silent occupants. Then they proceed onto the bridge leading to the middle sphere, with it's circle or chairs facing outwards. A figure rises from one of the chairs and pulls out a weapon.

The two men have scant time to evade, and both lunge in opposite directions; the beam of energy scorches them both as it passes by.

The entire room fills with noise as several warning-klaxons start keening, and suddenly every person sitting in the rings of chairs around the central computer, on every floor, stirs and rises. There is considerable confusion in their behaviour, but not as much as one might expect. It disappears quickly, and every face in the room is turned towards the woman holding the firearm.

She lowers the laser-rifle somewhat and presses a button on a comm-link hanging from her waist.

Lewis pulls himself upright with the help of the balustrade while he gingerly probes his back, where his clothing has melted and stuck to his skin. He opens his mouth to speak, and the woman's gun is again pointing directly at him. He fancies a faint reflection from the focusing lens he knows is located deep within the barrel.

A white streak of energy enters Lewis' field of vision and impacts into the side of the laser rifle, splitting it. Bearcat Omega-Seven rises up from his kneeling position while holstering his own impact pistol. The woman is grabbed by several other members of the inner circle. Lewis lets out a long, painful sigh and finds Aki-Zeta Five with his gaze. He smiles mirthlessly.

"All I had to do was show up, and you have all the evidence you could ask for. I suppose hearing out Kappa-44 would be slightly unnecessary after this."

"On the contrary, doctor Parks. It is even more vital, and must be done quickly. And I suppose you want to re-establish total control over your MMI."

Lewis nods and sits down in one of the chairs. Even though the connection is less technically advanced than the University's it has a staggering data-transfer rate, and Kappa-44 disappears from Lewis' MMI in a mere fifteen seconds. When he rises again the klaxons have stopped, but several fainter, but no less urgent-sounding, signals can be heard.

"What's going on?"

A man by Aki Zeta-Five's side speaks. "Those signals mean several things. Several mean there's a significant gathering of military forces in various parts of the city. Others mean there's some kind of major emergency occurring somewhere within Free Drone territory. And the most urgent one means the Mainframe is being infiltrated." Lewis faintly recognizes him from his previous visit to central admin.

Bearcat stirs. "Circle-members, I have prepared for evacuation. But you must decide."

Aki Zeta-Five turns to the captive woman. "Tanya Kolmonitov Ypsilon-Seven. Or should I call you Beta? Explain yourself."

The woman puts on a dark grin. "I am Beta, soon to be Omega. I will be the end of the Consciousness and the beginning of the True Consciousness. I have judged the inner circle and found it wanting; inefficient. You will be replaced and re-merged." Beta takes a deep breath. "Resistance is futile."

Lewis sneers at her. "Pull one of the other clichés, that one's got bells on."

Aki nods at Bearcat. He aims his gun at Beta/Tanya and fires. Aki is silent for a moment before she again looks at Bearcat.

"You are in charge of the evacuation, Bearcat. Speed is of essence, and all citizens of the Consciousness must be considered potential enemies."

Bearcat nods. "Follow me. Lewis, stay close." He runs quickly through the tunnel, and stops before the outermost door. "Everybody stay back. I have summoned some troops, and they should be on the other side of this door, but I do not know if they are trustworthy." He opens the door and takes a quick peek out. Then he lowers his weapon and walks through the doorway, followed by a puzzled Lewis and the inner circle -members.

Lewis doesn't have to wonder for long, however, once he sees the assembled troops. They are literally lounging around the intra-rail station, any sign of military discipline completely absent except for their similar clothing (black) and weaponry (all small and heavy arms from the chaos family).

"What kind of forces are these?"

"Special forces. It's a combat unit accepting only unmerged soldiers. The Consciousness recognizes that our merging with cybernetics might become disadvantageous, due to EMP-guns and harmonic interference -technologies, so this military unit has been created to operate in an environment where standard electronics and optics have become unreliable. They take orders only from the inner circle and it's agents. They have a modicum of empathic skill, enabling them to sense people with hostile intent."

The soldiers come to approximate attention, and a man with captain's markings approaches bearcat and salutes. "Sir, Fourth Dark Company ready for orders sir."

Bearcat returns the salute. "Good. Escort us out of Alpha Prime. All military units are presumed hostile until empathic scan proves the opposite. And contact the other Dark Companies; tell them to execute scenario 'malignance' and join us ASAP."

The entire group moves swiftly, the soldiers bolting back and forth to secure every opening and intersection while they descend towards ground level. Occasionally Lewis hears the thunder of discharging chaos-weaponry, and then as he passes some intersection he detects a faint scent of something burning. Sometimes there's a crater in some wall, but never any bodies.

A clear, seemingly ambient, bell-like sound rings in the air. Some of the members of the inner circle lift their heads as they walk, straining to hear. Then an androgenous voice can be heard: "This is Central Admin. A special recalibration of the Consciousness has been initiated; all merged citizens report to the nearest upgrade station. Inefficient behaviour will be corrected."

Lewis hurries forward until he is next to Bearcat. "What was that all about?"

"It appears Beta has already managed to take control of the Mainframe, and has re-staffed the seats of the inner circle. In order to complete the takeover of Alpha Prime he needs the backing of the merged citizens, especially the military. And to avoid having to force them he will attempt to reprogram their algorithms to accept him as their leader. The change is quick, and most citizens will obey swiftly, so from here on the level of resistance will increase steeply. However, the controls of Alpha Prime's infrastructure, like transport and power, are protected by security-systems and codes, and this will give us time to escape before Beta has access to our full military power. And to further slow him down I have ordered the Dark Companies to destroy Alpha Prime's satellite dishes, cutting contact with the rest of the Cybernetic Consciousness for some time."

"All right, but what about the military forces bound to be under his control already?"

Bearcat's answer is lost in the sound of gunfire.


End of chapter 34.

[Raging Mouse]

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 alone 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 and leap onto the hood. It proceeded to peck at the windshield with it's beak.

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]

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 driven them further apart, 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 them 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 bluffs?", 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 leaves Alpha Prime and headed for University territory. Inside, Lewis listened to the traffic on the comm-links.

To all citizens of the Consciousness; Our former leader, Aki Zeta-Five has surrendered before the superior strategies of Niels Beta-Sixteen. The Cybernetic Consciousness is whole again, under the efficient leadership of Beta-Sixteen. Alpha Prime has returned to normal operation. Those merged citizens who still haven't visited the upgrade-stations are required to do so.

"Lewis, I want to exit the rover. Please stop."

Lewis casts a quick glance at the rear-view mirror and meets Bearcat Omega-Seven's steady gaze. He eases up the throttle. "Where are you going?"

Bearcat hesitates for a moment. "At this point there is too little to go on for me to have a definite answer. But I know I need to stay within Cybernetic territory."

Lewis stares at him while chewing nervously on the mouthpiece of his breather. "You intend to fight him on his home turf? Are all merged individuals insane?"

"I have certain values I hold in high regard, Lewis, and Beta has none of them. One is called 'honor'."

"You mean you're going to walk up to his office -or whatever- and demand a showdown, good old western style? And expect not to be unceremoniously shot then and there?"

Bearcat shakes his head. "He wouldn't obey the laws of honor. I will save them for my comrades in arms. There is bound to be others like me, and our number will increase as Beta attempts to restore control over the other bases. We will preserve Aki's ideals by establishing a consciousness that follows, as much as possible, her plans as I know them."

Lewis stared at him in silence. "Easier said than done!" He spat.

Bearcat glances at Jessica, who is seemingly asleep. "I am sorry I cannot return to assist in restoring your wife, Lewis. But I wouldn't be of much help anyway. The only one who can authorize a cancellation of a completed merger is Aki Zeta-Five, and to secure that, she withholds some knowledge about the process from everybody else. Don't you see, that I need to return to make sure she stays alive? That way I can assist you."

Lewis glances at Jessica calms down. "All right. Though I'm quite confident in the research-capabilities of the University. You'll see; Jessica will be her self again!"

Bearcat nods. "Optimism is one of the least deplorable emotions. I wish you luck. And.. can we rely on University support, should I succeed in finding others willing to fight for my cause?"

Lewis nods. "Of course."

"Then I will leave. Goodbye." Bearcat Omega-Seven exits the rover, slams the door shut behind him and jogs away at a steady pace. Lewis sets the rover moving again, and Bearcat is soon out of sight.

Then the comm-link crackles again.

This is Niels Beta-Sixteen, to all Cybernetic Consciousness forces. Disengage from the enemy and withdraw to your latest prepared defensive lines. As of this moment, the Consciousness is declaring a cease-fire. Beta out.

Lewis stares at the comm-link. "It's over!" He whispers.


End of chapter 36.

[Raging Mouse]

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; curious we. This Earthmanchild?"

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

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

"She is a mere larvae yet, unknown to we. But already we sense her power, yes? She is precious. We have not heard a song like hers before."

"Planet curious too. Spare her we?"

"Yes. We spare all of them."

A whine issued forth from the gleaming sliver of electricity.
"Egg sacs full. Hosts need we; 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?"

The man laughed. "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 weather-worn 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 sing with 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 steeringwheel 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]

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."

"I am pleased. 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 just now 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. I expect him to reach the nearest mag-tube station within three weeks."

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 for now you're quite too much trouble to move. While at the same time you're present wherever there's a computer terminal in University Base, and wherever you can walk."

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. Of course, we'll have to create an official identity for one of your more representative interfaces, but that's already being taken care of."

"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 policy of attack, 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. He won't stop trying to conquer us; not in a million years. If he truly thinks he is superior to us humans, then he can't accept failure. His mind would break. The same goes for getting Dorothy. So he will most certainly attack us again."

"Oh." Methis is silent for a moment. "Then I have chosen a too optimistic set of scenarios when considering the defense of the Parks, as well as the University. I must reform my strategy for the university, and will have the initial drafts for you by tomorrow morning. However.. concerning Dorothy, I have thought of one way we might reduce the risk to her, but it would require some innovations I am as yet incapable of making. I am not creative enough. I suggest that Dorothy and I, and no one else, be involved in developing this.. The general concept is presented on visual display unit four."

Zakharov squints at the monitor for a moment. Then his eyes widen, and he starts grinning. Then he starts laughing.

"Why, of course! By all means, get right on it!"


End of chapter 38.

[Raging Mouse]

Book Two


"Finally, we have refined and improved the MMI to the stage where it can translate, in real time, any and all aspects of the brain's functions into a universal, octanary computer-code language. This is the key in the development of the simulacrum systems."

-Declassified and reprinted by permission of Dr. Rachel Dorothy Parks, from 'Report 292.361B'

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 Parks and professor Andersen. Observe how Dorothy is present at all of these events. She asks questions. She even makes suggestions.

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 thirteen she is without equal among children of her age, and she is actively helping Lewis in his projects. At the age of fifteen, she has completed her first research-project, together with Methis. Zakharov declares the results 'top secret'.


And now, eleven years later..


See the young woman, walking along the corridor. 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 ponytail with a red ribbon. She is twenty-one, actually, but nineteen physically.

"Oh I'm sorry, was I smiling? I didn't realize.." He is wearing a labcoat, 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; what are you thinking about?"

This time Lewis grins like fresh millionaire. "Whether or not I dare grant you a wish for your twenty-second 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? The 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 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 secret mayor of university Central for Methis, and three major research publications for me. Of course, only Zakharov has read them, but still..."

"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 seemingly qualifies. Whatever that is. I still can't believe you've gained a higher security-rating than me!" He shakes his finger at her, as if chiding her, but he smiles all the time. "All I get to hear is the nice-sounding name; simulacrum-systems." Dorothy only smiles at her father's grumbling.

The door opens, and the cool gust emanating from the room, hinting of metal 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. Nanoelectronics 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 burden seems to have settled onto 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. I know that you know, as well, how frustratingly simply that cybernetic implant defies every attempt at analysis. Even now, with our advanced knowledge of the human mind and how to shape it -in part thanks to you, I gather- we still can't straighten out exactly how the algorithm/human blending works, or how it unravels. Zakharov claims he can't help us, even though I suspect he has played a part in Aki's introduction to Zeta-Five."

"Well, what can we do?"

Lewis sighs. "A young researcher advanced this theory the other day, and I know 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 a person'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. "Bearcat also told me that she actually knows how to separate algorithm and human. But no-one has seen her since Beta took control of the Consciousness. No-one even knows if she's still alive, and I haven't heard anything from Bearcat in all these years. 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 dais 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 must hope for the best."


End of chapter 39.
[This message has been edited by Raging Mouse (edited January 18, 2001).]

[Raging Mouse]

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, although you do look quite different now. 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 a while back.."

The tall corporate soldier nods at J'arim as he walks over to the old man. "No I don't, I'm sorry to say. When did we meet?"

"Maybe it's best that way, Edge. Knowing me is.. dangerous.. I seem to attract enemies.

The old man nods, amused. "How long have you been looking for me? I'm on the move a lot, as you know, so I must have been a bit difficult to find."

An innocent smile forms on Hubris' lips. "Someone left a copy of the executive's calendar lying around where anybody could get their hands on it. I noticed that the board was arranging a big party tonight, so I could assume you would be there.

Jim grunts. "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 sympathy 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, essential even, 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 holds up up a hand. "But there's more. I know what the Gaians have, and while interesting it's not breathtaking. 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 what very likely is 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.

The mercenary frowns after her. "Boss, who is she? I'd remember if I have met a professional like her before. And there is something about her I don't like."

"Edge, you are a good bodyguard, which is why I won't jeopardize you by telling more. Knowing her is unhealthy, nowadays. So the less you know, the better. As for your instincts.. they serve you well." He rises, ponderously. "Should you find yourself in a battle with her as an opponent, you have my permission to retreat." He harrumphs. "When is my longevity-treatment scheduled? I'm feeling much too old for my liking right now..."


End of chapter 40.

[Raging Mouse]

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's inhabitants 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 percentages, 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 being 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 that he didn't want to commit to the network just yet.."

"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 Central 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 the ratio of infected nodes was three per seventeen. 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 too 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 meanwhile, 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. "That time may be right now, sir. But first I'd like to make a suggestion."

"Very well. Go on."

"I know.. some.. of the qualities of Dorothy Park's MMI. Couldn't we simply implement those innovations into the models of all citizens, thus rendering them impervious to this kind of influence?"

Zakharov is silent for a while. "No. This may seem uncharacteristic of me, but that kind of MMI would be replacing a serious danger with a very serious danger. That technology is too unsafe for widespread use." He holds up a hand. "There are other reasons as well, captain, so spare me your objections. It's just that you don't have the security clearance to hear the other reasons. Now, was there anything else?"

Steiner, visibly annoyed, pauses to collect his thoughts. "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]

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 Kojl 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 on the captain's lips as he 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 and notices Hubris with a start. "Excuse me, miss Kojl. 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, if I know these bastards, arrest and drag away anyone who looks like good ransom-material. Say what you like, at least the Pirates have style." He shrugs. "I picked up some local radio-traffic this morning. There's no official stations, but I did catch a conversation between the captains of 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 energy 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]

Chapter 43: Brainwash


Zakharov stares at the frozen holo-image. It shows the front door to an apartment 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 CounterInsurgency-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 days 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, and also to search for any signs of an underground resistance. Lewis indicated there could be one, although I doubt it. 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. We estimate that two percent of the entire population carries a sleeper-algorithm. 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, and when, 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]

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 barkeeper 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 and a good selection of narcotics 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, breeders.. 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 indeed 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 interrupted 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 person per month 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.