The Soul Continuum (47 page)

“What happened to Ironius?” I ask. “What could have made him that way?”

“That, I don't know, and Qod refuses to tell me, but I suspect it's his meddling that caused the changes in Shalom and Seventy-Seven. Who knows how many other Salem Bens are out there who are completely different?”

“Why does he do it?”

“About that, Three, I have no idea.” He looks up again. “And she refuses to tell me that too . . . don't you?”

“Of course,” she says eventually. “And how many times do I have to tell you it is in your best interest to not know?”

“Shouldn't I . . .
we
be the judge of that?” I ask.

“No,” she says flatly.

Demetri shakes his head, looking at me. “See? I've interrogated her for more cycles than you care to imagine, and she never gives in, not even one mote.”

“And we're not going to be able to ask Ironius either now,” I say.

“True,” Demetri says. “Actually, that's why I came to see you. I wanted to know if you'd mind if I interface my nanodrones with the Control Core again. I want to find out if Ironius left anything behind.”

“Feel free.”

“You can help me if you like.”

I feel the algorithm, or perhaps the Transcendent within me, urge me to agree.

“Yes, I'd like that, but . . .”

“But?”

“But I'm tired, Demetri. Tired of being . . .” I want to say
swayed
or
manipulated
, but something prevents me.

“Tired of being what?” He looks confused, perhaps even suspicious.

“I'm just tired.”

He regards me for several seconds, then nods. “I should leave you. For the moment at least. Let you rest.”

“Would you like to go to the Observation Sphere, Salem?” Qod says.

“Is anyone else there?” I ask.

“They are all there, apart from Demetri,” Qod says.

I can picture them. A ring of Salems facing the walls of the sphere, gazing out into the Quantum Abyss, perhaps watching the other three Consortiums trace their never-ending orbital paths. The thought wearies me, and I turn to look at the slot that represents my life. That isn't me anymore. I have become someone else.

“I think I will sit here for a while,” I tell her.

“As you wish,” she says, and I close my eyes, listening to Demetri's soft footfall as he leaves the Calibration Sphere.

“Demetri?” I call. His footsteps stop. “Let me know when you find what you are looking for.”

He does not answer but leaves me to my thoughts, and I wait until all I can hear is the insect clicking of Qod's endless sorting of the soul files. Behind the sound, behind the walls of my conscious mind, I feel the algorithm nesting deep in my mind, waiting. Eventually it will surface again. I sense it is waiting for Demetri to finish his investigation of the Control Core before it pushes me to act, to solve the conundrum that is the Jagannath.

Until then . . . Until the next phase of my adventure . . .

I will rest . . .