Reclamation (42 page)

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Authors: Sarah Zettel

BOOK: Reclamation
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Uary sat back, prepared to wait until the ship fell apart around them.

“Have your Beholden uncouple all the comm lines to the outside,” said Basq. “We must observe total computer and biological quarantine procedures. There cannot be a single physical link between this room and the rest of the ship. If we run this risk, it must be just us.”

A feeling that was almost respect surfaced in Uary. At least Basq carried his need for notoriety through to the end. If he was witnessed doing any less than this, it would of course be shameful, but he put that thought far ahead of his personal safety. Uary had seen the recordings of Born breaking open the door and of him tapping the private network. There was a real danger to them all if Born could break open the holding tank.

Well, they would just have to make it dangerous for him to try.

“Lairdin, place the artifact on complete life-support. Make sure that we are responsible for its physical existence. If it does manage to damage the systems, it will simply terminate itself.”

Before I have to,
he added silently, and he realized he was cherishing that exact hope.

Unexpectedly, the Witness spoke. “I must download what has happened here before the lines are closed.”

“Cierc, you will assist the Witness,” said Uary. He turned his attention to his own work.

All the systems needed to be put into independent mode. That meant shuffling operations around, cutting some functions and making sure there was enough storage space for the data to accumulate. Even with the help of the prompts that began as soon as he initiated quarantine procedures, it was a painstaking business.

But it was finally finished. The proper superiors were notified. The doors were shut and locked by hand and every instrument was physically separated from its links to the ship outside. Uary glanced at the monitors again. The artifact was still quiescent and the neutralizing gel was undisturbed.

“Restore active state,” he said.

The monitors showed the stimulants flowing into the system. The response was good. Steady and not too fast. Normal orientation in five … four … three …

The monitor went dead.

“Systems check!” he snapped. The Beholden jumped and Basq sucked in a breath.

The lights went out next, and the backups did not come on.

“Aunorante Sangh,” murmured Basq.

Uary did not bother to respond. He groped under the edge of the counter until he found the emergency handlight and pulled it out of its holder. The beam showed that everyone had had the sense to hold still.

The monitors on the tank itself still had power. They glowed eerily in the darkness, as did the tank. The artifact lay totally immobile inside, and the gel around him was undisturbed.

Uary shuffled the board keys with his free hand, but the terminal did not respond. He was barely aware that Lairdin had cleared a space in the wall and was working on the lights. A flicker made him blink. Lairdin fell backward, centimeters ahead of a shower of sparks as, against all specifications and parameters, some circuit burned out.

Uary’s terminal screen flared with sudden light. Three words printed themselves across it.

LEAVE ME ALONE.

Basq stood at Uary’s shoulder, his cheeks hollow with shadow and fear.

“Can we answer it?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” said Uary slowly. He sketched the artifact’s name on the notepad. Nothing happened. “We have to shut off its life-support. Terminate it.”

“No,” said Basq fervently. “We need to tame it.”

Uary turned on him. “And how are we to do that?”

“Outnumber it. All it has had to do so far is trip a few switches. If we all work to regain control of the instruments, it will have to fight us all, repeatedly. We will wear it out.”

“It could be possible.”
Sense is the last thing I expected from you, Basq, but I’m glad it’s come.
Uary hesitated. To keep the artifact alive even a few minutes longer would be a hideous risk, but as long as it was in the tank the monitors were recording its reactions. If they could find out what it took to overload its telekinetic processes, they would have a real weapon against its counterparts on the Home Ground.

And Uary would have the work of the Ancestors under his eye that much longer.

“Ambassador.” Uary stepped aside. “Take over the terminal. My Beholden and I will work directly on the tank. Witness …” Uary hesitated. One did not give orders to a Witness.

“The communications consoles will be my area.” She cleared the optical matter above the comm boards with deft hands. “We can flood the lab’s interior lines with data.”

Uary was vaguely aware that he was now fighting the first battle with the Aunorante Sangh that had taken place since the Ancestors had taken flight, and nobody outside the lab even knew it was happening. They checked, changed, restarted, and rerouted. It burned, closed, crashed, and jammed. The lab was well stocked with spare parts and every system had backups to its backups. Uary did not like emergencies. They were half a dozen and the artifact was only one and it didn’t know the systems. It would have to tire. It would have to collapse.

Except it didn’t. Everywhere they went, it was already there. Its power gripped the entire lab and shut them outside, leaving them standing helplessly in the middle of their equipment.

Its heart rate didn’t even flutter. It seemed to expend no energy and all the battle took it no effort. It could keep it up until the ship fell apart, and it was still perfectly calm, perfectly regulated.

Uary wanted to throw his head back and laugh at the absurdities. Of course it was, because the tank was keeping it that way. He’d issued the order himself. Total life-support. The tank would feed Born what it needed to keep itself calm and healthy. As long as it was inside the tank, it could do anything and feel no strain.

“It’s reached the comm system,” said the Witness. “It is transmitting, and the terminal is responding.”

“How!” shouted Basq.

How!
repeated Uary in his own frantic mind. They had physically cut …

The line to Caril. His Beholden had physically cut the comm lines and they had missed his line to Caril. But who would there be to answer it?

“The female artifact,” said the Witness as if she read his mind. “The delivery was a ruse. We have to open the doors. We must warn the Captain.”

“No!” Uary laid his hands on the life-support commands. “All we have to do is get it out of the tank, Lairdin …”

“Stop!” thundered the Witness.

Uary and his Beholden froze.

“It has the air supply.”

Basq got to the Witness’s side one step ahead of Uary. The monitor’s message had changed.

I HAVE BURNED OUT THE EVACUATION CIRCUIT. ALL THAT IS HOLDING IT CLOSED IS ME. IF I AM FORCED TO LET GO THE ROOM WILL BE IN VACUUM IN LESS THAN FIFTEEN SECONDS.

Uary cursed. “It even knows the time.”

“Part of the quarantine measures?” inquired the Witness.

Uary nodded. “A last precaution.”

Cierc wiped a huge swath of optical matter away from the wall to reveal a carbonized juncture in the fiber optics. “It’s not bluffing.”

“Suits!” ordered Basq.

Cierc, closest to the emergency locker, broke the seal and swung the door back. Uary walked calmly but quickly to his side, as he’d been drilled to do all his life. Get in the suit, close the seals, check the …

The suits lay in crumbled heaps on the locker floor. Each helmet seal had been burned through. The carbon stench drifted up from them.

Cierc swallowed. “The locker has an optical matter backing. It must have got through …”

Because I listened to Basq. Because I wanted to have it in my hands a few minutes longer. Because I had a hidden line to Caril …

“Then we die,” said Basq.

“WHAT?” cried Cierc.

“We die.” Basq stood like a statue of himself. “We cut the power to the tank. We cannot permit its confederates to rescue this thing alive. It knows enough to mount a pitched battle against us, and win. It knows the private technologies. We will lose the Home Ground if it survives.”

Uary tried to find the flaw in Basq’s reasoning, but there was none. There was no other way. If the artifacts understood too much, the Vitae would lose to them, again.

“I’ll do it.” Even though the Witness would not survive to transmit this, he felt better saying it to her.

He heard Basq whisper Caril’s name and realized he could have his revenge now if he wanted it. Before they died he could tell Basq that his son was alive and working for the Imperialists, and that Caril had been in touch with him ever since he had “vanished.” He could do it, now that they were dead and the Witness with them.

Uary looked at Basq and decided it was enough that he knew. Basq could join the Lineage ignorant.

The room shook. It rattled and pitched wildly and a wind rushed through it.

Wind? Uary sat up and dazedly wondered how he had come to be on the floor.

The wind died as abruptly as it started. Lairdin sprawled on the floor. Red liquid smeared around her. And her face was gone.

White foam filled the gap in the outer wall. Something shoved through it. A door. An airlock. Uary couldn’t hear. The Witness wasn’t moving. There was blood everywhere. The airlock opened and a figure in a vacuum suit walked into the lab. Behind the suited person walked an android. The android spoke. Uary saw its mouth move. He couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears. The suited one spoke, turned toward the Witness and grabbed her by the arm. The Witness said nothing. She didn’t even flinch. The suited figure dropped her.

The figure turned toward him. Now he could see it was a woman. It was the female artifact and her mouth was moving. He put his hand to his ear automatically and it came away covered in red.

The android was speaking and Cierc teetered to his feet.

“No!” Uary hoped he shouted but Cierc still closed the monitor lines in the tank. The needles and catheters and pipettes extracted themselves. Nothing happened. Nothing happened. The android lifted the artifact free from the tank and carried it to the airlock.

The suited artifact followed, then stopped and crossed to the inner door. Uary tried to get to his feet and fell back. Pain finally broke through the shock. The artifact looked the door over. She threw the manual locks open and shoved the door back. She bent close to Uary and he could see her mouth move.

Run, she was telling him. Run!

He couldn’t even stand. He scrabbled across the floor. The Beholden grabbed him and hauled him forward. He saw figures. Emergency crews. He turned. The artifact and the android were through their airlock and he had time to see it yank itself away from the sealing foam before the lab door slammed shut.

He sagged into the arms of a stranger while the emergency team buzzed around them. Hands grabbed him. Sat him down. Twisted his neck to look at his ear. The technician was an amputant, he saw, with only four fingers on the hand that pressed the anesthetic patch against his wrist.

We had them,
he thought blearily as the pain began to fade.
We had them. Now I understand. Now I really understand how the Ancestors could have lost to these things.

He hoped the Assembly would let him live long enough to tell them what he knew.

11—The Realm of the Nameless Powers, Late Afternoon

“The Aunorante Sangh will return, but know this too, the Nameless Powers will be on their heels.”

From “The Words of the Nameless Powers,” translated by Hands to the Sky for all who follow.

J
AY LOWERED HIMSELF ONTO
his belly and stared at the Narroways gates through a striping of greenish brown grasses. Instead of the usual collection of disinterested cargo inspectors in their turbans and rust-colored ponchos, four alert soldiers in First City’s emerald-and-beige cloaks blocked traffic and searched under tarpaulins for any unapproved or unlevied goods.

King Silver lost then.
Jay lowered his head and mopped at the mud drying on his face. The rain had come down hard twice since he parted ways with Cor, and although the sun had succeeded in drying out his skin, his clothing was still drenched. It clung close to his skin like a soggy, heavy blanket. Jay looked back over his shoulder toward the road. The line of travelers waiting in front of the gate was as solid as ever. Additional soldiers patrolled the sides of the road, guiding their oxen between gaggles of Notouch. They probably had specific orders to look for him. He couldn’t believe that the new masters of Narroways wouldn’t be interested in the King’s Skyman.

For a moment he considered leaving the city to its fate and making his way down to the Lif marshes alone to meet Cor. But night was closing in behind him and he not only had no tent or blanket to help stave off the cold, he had no supplies for what could turn out to be a multiple-day journey. Even if he could make it to the marshes, once Cor brought him to the Notouch, he had no tangible authority, and no power to intimidate, except for the gun at his side. Although the Notouch were supposed to obey whoever gave them orders, recent experience had taught him that this was not always what happened. Cor had left him still stating confidently that the Notouch would be amenable to friendly persuasion. But would Empty Cups lie to her own family about the state she’d left Broken Trail in? Jay frowned. Whatever else they had or did not have in their genetic makeup, even the Notouch had a drive for self-preservation. Without a threat that was more tangible than the unknown nightmare in Chamber One, they might very well decide to run away from Cor rather than go along with her.

Then there was Cor herself. Jay suppressed a sigh. Her resolve was wavering. If there were too many more assaults on her sense of what was right and just, she might just do something foolish. He had to make sure he could deal with Stone in the Wall’s family without Cor’s help if it became necessary.

I’ve got to at least get some supplies, whether I have to beg, borrow, or steal them. Maybe the fighting’s not quite over yet in there. If I can find one of Silver’s staff, or even a sympathetic Bondless …

Wrapping his hopes around him, Jay crept away from the road and toward the one entrance to the city that might not be guarded.

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