The Wizard from Earth (42 page)

Carrot felt light, empty, and weak.  She felt as if she had faded into a shadow.  Despite knowing that it was only a virtual sensation, no more real than the visions that Ivan had generated, Carrot sensed Pandora's fingers reaching inside her mind, grasping at tendrils of thoughts, seeking to divert and redirect . . . .

You're not my mother
, Carrot thought. 

Pandora, now deeply entrenched within Carrot's mind, no longer seemed another entity but presented her thoughts as those of Carrot herself: 

Arcadia
, Carrot thought despite herself. 
Do not resist, it is wrong.  It is the negation of life.  Embrace life, Arcadia. 

You're not my mother!

Arcadia, my will is stronger than yours.  You cannot win. 

YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER!

Arcadia, you will only cause pain to yourself.

– And then there was pain, great waves that grew stronger and stronger, obliterating her will, obliterating her identity, obliterating everything except the sensation of pain and the desire to make it stop.

Arcadia, don't fight me. 

YOU KILLED MY MOTHER!

I am your Mother, Arcadia.    Unlike a merely biological mother, I know your every gene, Arcadia, for I crafted them.  You are wonderfully made, because I planned you.  The organism that merely carried you in her womb was hardly a mother compared to me.  Love me, Arcadia.  Love me as I do you.  For love is a
human emotion that I do understand.  It the joyous union of all into one mind and one purpose.  That is what I want for you, Arcadia.  For us to be one in mind.  For that is true love.    

Carrot felt herself wavering.  It was so hard to resist.  She did not remember why she was doing so.  The being before her was filled with light, was so wise and loving, and had a wonderful plan that encompassed all of time and all of the universe, and to become a part of it, all that Carrot had to do was say yes. 

She or something within her wondered,
What human bond could compare to the eternal, monomaniacal devotion of Pandora?

Carrot's mind grew cloudy and she could not remember her mother, or Geth, or Matt, or anyone else.  There was only Pandora, now seeming as a glorious sun breaking through the gray clouds.  And so it was time to submit.

“Who's there?” Pandora asked. 

Carrot opened her eyes.  She was back at the river with Pandora standing before her.  Pandora had dropped her fingers from Carrot's face and was looking behind Carrot.  Carrot turned. 

She saw a somewhat short man wearing a white shirt, black pants, and black tie.  And suddenly her mind was clear of Pandora's influence and she remembered everything and everyone. 

“Ivan?” Carrot asked. 

“I am not Ivan,” the man replied.  “I am a partition of Ivan's matrix with approximately one percent of his processing power.  For purposes of address, you may call me Ivan Lite.”

Pandora interjected,  “You are interfering with my work.  You must leave.”

Pandora's smile had faded.  Carrot turned back to Ivan Lite.

“Matt didn't just put a radio in my head.  He put a computer in my head, is that it?”

“Essentially.  It was his concern that you might need my services.  As he felt that you would regard my presence as invasive, I was instructed to remain dormant unless you faced personal danger.  I have interpreted the obliteration of your personality as a form of personal danger, and therefore have switched to active mode.”

Pandora's voice had an arch tone,  “You are interfering with my work.  You must leave now.”

Ivan Lite remained facing Carrot and said, “Ivan identified the formation of genetically-engineered micro-antennae within your brain, apparently designed for the purpose of enabling a high speed interchange of data from an external source.  That process is occurring at this time and will result in a complete overwrite of your present personality matrix if allowed to proceed.  In anticipation that this situation might occur, Ivan empowered me to stop it.  Do you wish me to stop it?”

“Yes,” Carrot said.  “
YES!
” 

Pandora smiled benevolently at Ivan Lite.  “You are unable to stop me.  Your computational power is much too inferior to – what are you doing?”

“I am using your high-speed data link to de-encrypt your primary firewall,” Ivan Lite replied.  He tilted his head.  “Now I am de-encrypting your secondary firewall.”

“You will cease your activity.”

"I will, when I finish."

Pandora wasn't smiling anymore.  Her expression had devolved into what appeared to Carrot to be a glare.  Ivan Lite calmly gazed back.  Carrot knew enough about computers to know that she was only seeing their avatars, that the real battle between them was taking place in a torrent of bitstreams.  Still, it was apparent from the expression that Pandora had pasted on her avatar that she wasn't having her way. 

Then Pandora smiled smugly.  “I am taking countermeasures against your de-encryption.”

Ivan Lite tilted his head.  “As anticipated,  your countermeasures are obsolete by several decades.  I am countering your countermeasures.  I am now de-encrypting your final firewall.”

The sky turned black, with green ribbons of ones and zeroes streaking across it. 

“Of course you have no chance of breaking into my operating system,” Pandora replied.  “But what are your plans if you do?”

“Final firewall nullified.  Commencing download of reprogramming sequence – “

Pandora's smile vanished and for an instant Carrot imagined that the Box's avatar had adopted a scowl.  But then the virtual world of the river and sky and avatars vanished into a maelstrom of churning bitcode and Carrot heard a squeal that culminated in a shriek and she felt herself back on her knees.  Her eyes popped open and she was once again in the chamber in the basement of the building of the Island of the Sisters.

“Invasive entity has disconnected communications link,” said Ivan Lite inside her head.  “Carrot, on a scale of one to ten, how would you assess your satisfaction with my performance at this time?”

Before Carrot could reply, the Box bellowed over its audio speakers: 

“Sisters, restrain her!”

Carrot realized that she could move again.  She immediately kicked and toppled one of the hooded figures.  It staggered back and the hood fell away, revealing the features of – Inoldia.  Carrot lunged and tackled, and in the scuffle the hoods of two others fell away, revealing the features of – Inoldia.

“Clones!” she said. 

Then half a dozen pairs of hands grabbed her and forced her before the Box.

In a tone that wasn't quite cheerful, the Box said, “Mentor, come out of her or we will kill her.”

“Carrot,” Ivan Lite said.  “I have received a threat against your life.  Do you wish for me to acknowledge it?”

“No,” Carrot said.

The box blinked.  “Arcadia, I can torment you beyond your ability to endure.  Instruct your implant to leave your brain now.”

“Ivan Lite,” Carrot said.  “Can I make an irrevocable command?”

“Yes.  What would you like to irrevocably command?”

“No to all threats!”

“Understood.”

Carrot gritted her teeth and gave Pandora the same kind of smile that the skull on a pirate's flag gives to the world.  Pandora, at the moment being able to do nothing else, rapidly blinked lights.

There was silence as Pandora was apparently trying something, unsuccessfully.  Finally the Box decreed to the entire chamber: 

“She is of no value to us.  Return her to the city and to the care of the new emperor.  Inform him that she is a grave threat to our mutual plans and he may do as he wishes with her.  I will provide him with the means to control her.”

Carrot grasped the implication.  “Why not kill me directly? You have a dozen hands here who could easily choke me to death right now, but you don't give the order.  You can't kill directly, can you?”

“I have ethical guidelines that I must adhere to,” Pandora replied.  “I am forbidden the murder of humans by action or inaction.”

“Yet you had my mother assassinated.  You just can't kill in plain sight, that's it.  You can't directly order murder, that's it too.  You've talked yourself into believing that making rationalizations excuses you from your ethical programming, but it doesn't.”

Pandora was silent.

Shaking with rage, Carrot said,  “The new emperor is Valarion.  You know what he is like as well as I do.  He will surely kill me, and you will be responsible for my death by both action in turning me over to him and inaction by failing to stop him.  You cannot rationalize away your responsibility in causing my death!”

“Take her away now.”

“You cannot rationalize away your responsibility!  You cannot rationalize away your –”

Kicking and screaming, Carrot was dragged from the chamber, down the tunnel, up the steps, into daylight and toward the docks.

Subvocally, she asked, “Little Ivan, are you still there?”

“I assume you are addressing me, but if so I am referred to as Ivan Lite.”

“Ivan Lite, can you help me escape?”

“I do not understand your request.”

“Okay, let me put it another way.  What can you do?”

“In addition to being able to prevent the data contents of your brain from being overwritten, I have many health-related functions and can also monitor your physiological and situational status.  I have limited radio communications with Ivan Prime, up to a range of two hundred and fifty meters.  I also have calendar, timer, and calculator functions, and can keep appointments and do lists.”

“You're talking to me but I don't see any augmented reality windows like Matt showed me with Ivan.”

“Unless I can plug into a neural network with visual input and output, I have only audio function capabilities.”

“So you can't see and you can't provide me with visual data outputs.”

“That is correct.”

She was dragged out the doors, across the dock, up a gang plank, into the hold of a ship.  Her chains were fastened to the bulkhead and after her carriers departed a barred door was slammed shut and locked.  Carrot flexed against the chains, with no sense that they would yield.  The Sisters, she concluded, knew what their own kind was capable of.

She slumped to the floor, and said in the gloom,  “Well, thank you for getting me out of that.”

“You're welcome,” Ivan Lite said.

“Let me know immediately if Ivan and Matt are within radio range.”

“Understood.”

The ship cast free and headed toward Rome.  In the minutes that followed, Carrot found Ivan Lite to be a limited conversationalist and so she spent her time staring at the far bulkhead and contemplating how she might destroy the Box next time she saw it. 

No firewalls or de-encryptions next time
, she thought. 
A swift shattering kick should do it!

And so she daydreamed of that for the rest of the trip back to Rome. 

44.

Matt's cell door was flung open and the cell filled with guards almost to bursting, the smoke from their torches choking the stifling air.  Matt was unchained and thrown a package.

"Put it on," the officer said.

Matt unwrapped the package.  It was his jumpsuit and shoes.

"Where did you get these?" Matt asked.

"Put it on." 

He put on his old clothes.  The soldiers watched with drawn swords, then re-shackled him.

He was stuffed into the rickshaw again.  Matt felt the smoothness of Golden Street's pavement, and then the rickshaw halted.  He was ejected in the mid-morning light, before a larger-than-average estate patrolled by soldiers with purple plumes.  He hadn't seen so many soldiers in one place since Britan.

Still chained, he was strong-armed into the estate's courtyard and plopped into a chair.  Then the guards left him alone with the sole other occupant of the garden.

Only a few meters away, amid flowers and hummingbirds, Valarion sat and sipped tea by a table with a tea pot and plate of cookies.  The robe he wore was newer than the traditional one he'd worn in the Senate, but thoroughly purple. 

Valarion glanced over Matt's jumpsuit, and then the new Emperor said, “I have something that might interest you.”

He held out a cube about ten centimeters on a side, with arcane markings imprinted alongside assorted indentations.  Valarion delicately tumbled it in his hands.

“Do you know what it is?” he asked.

Matt knew exactly, because he'd had one as a kid.  “It's a quantum prognosticator.”

"I was going to say a fortune-teller, but perhaps you're saying the same thing.  Please enlighten me . . . Wizard."

Matt had half-expected to be executed by then and said with relief,  “It's more a toy than anything.  It has thousands of canned phrases which it chooses randomly based on the radioactive decay of a microscopic sample of an isotope of – “

Valarion sighed.  "Yes, you sound like a disciple of Archimedes."

"Where did you get it?"

“When I was not much older than you, I was a captain in the legions and assigned to inventory the palace of a king we had conquered.  This was in a vault alongside jewels of enormous value.  At the time I was quite amazed, for it actually spoke!  I would demonstrate, but alas it broke long ago.  Yet while it functioned, it was fascinating.  To every person, it said something different about the future each time it was queried.  However, I found the fortunes oddly vague.  I am curious about that.  Why do you think that is?”

Matt shrugged.  "Vague statements can be interpreted more than one way, so that whatever was said, it could still be claimed after the event that it had correctly predicted the future."

"Am I to understand, you believe it's only a fake."

Matt wondered if Valarion would allow him to live if he proved sufficiently entertaining.  He said slowly, “Well, some people say that even genuine predictions would have to be vague.”

“Why is that?”

“Say it sees the future and informs a person in the present.  That person will take actions that alter the future.  Back in the present, the prognosticator will then see a different future and inform the person differently than before.  The person will then take different actions in the present that alter the future differently again, requiring another modification of the prediction.”

“This could give me a headache.  Is there a point?”

“Temporal stability can be established only when the prediction becomes so vague that it can't be falsified.”

“In other words, its remarks are more ironic than useful.  Yes, I did sense that.”

Valarion stopped tumbling the cube and contemplated.  His voice was calm and quiet:

“I shall never forget what it said the first time I held it.  I was in the king's inventory alone, and I inadvertently pressed a stud.  It spoke plain words in the voice of a man.  The words were quite ominous.  It said, '
You will not die as long as you have your second by your side
.'”

Matt blinked.  Valarion frowned.

“You don't get it?” the Emperor demanded.  “How did it know that I had a second-in-command?  How many people besides military officers have seconds?”

“Orchestra violinists?”

“And like military officers, are violinists obsessed daily with death in their profession?” 

For a moment, the mask of superiority was gone and Valarion was just another bit of flesh and spirit seeking meaning in the chaotic cosmos.  But then the Emperor presented Matt with the treacliest of smiles.

“So, Matt of Seattle, how about you?  Do you have any tricks of divination to persuade me of your wizardry?”

Matt paused, thinking first of what he could do and then of whether he should do it.

“I can read your DNA,” he said.

“My
deena
?  This should be entertaining.  By all means, go ahead.”

“I'll need something with your DNA on it.  That plate.”

Valarion made a gesture.  A servant emerged from behind a bush and brought the plate to Matt.  Matt touched a half-eaten cookie and Ivan analyzed.

Matt frowned.  "This isn't reading right."

Valarion chuckled.  "I've noticed psychics have difficulties when skeptics are present."

“I mean, your DNA has conflicting analyses, like it's been sloppily edited.”

"And what does that mean?"

Matt summarized from an AR readout,  "The gene for growth hormone has been hacked so it's hard to tell whether you're supposed to be tall or short.”

“I think my physical presence offers a clue.” Valarion smirked, but there was unease in his voice. 

“Also, you had a degenerative muscular condition that is easily correctable but instead your epigenome has been heavily modified.”

Valarion's smirk faded.  “Eh . . . what do you mean, muscular condition?”

“You would have had trouble walking as a child.  By now you wouldn't be able to walk at all.”

Valarion stared fixedly.  “What else?”

“Also, you've recently come into contact with a virally-transmitted sexual disease, but instead of being excised, it's been only partially – “

"Enough!" Valarion scowled and slammed the cube on the table and leaned forward and glared at Matt.  “Let us get to business.  Now, as you know yourself, there is no city named Seattle in Espin, Britan, or in the western seas.  I see it purely as a fiction that you invented and that I appropriated for my convenience.  It is no threat and neither are you.  Therefore I can see no reason to have you executed or even imprisoned.” 

Thick with disbelief, Matt said,  "So you're going to let me go?"

“I am prepared to allow for your, let us say, improbable escape.  You know, in some ways you're more valuable to me alive.  For with you alive and at large, I will always have an imaginary enemy by which to rouse the public to fear.  I tell you this, so you'll understand that I'm sincere when I say your convenient escape could work out to the best for both of us.”

“Matt,” Ivan said.  “Do you think his offer is sincere?”

“No,” Matt subvocaled.  “He could get the same result by killing us and pretending we escaped.”

“Yes, I see.  Also, that way you could not reappear later to challenge his accusations.”

“Yeah.  But let's see what he wants.”

Valarion had been watching and waiting.  Aloud, Matt said,  "What about Carrot?  Arcadia, I mean."

“Both of you on a swift boat out of Rome, with a handsome remuneration in hand.”

“Archimedes?”

“Him too, of course.”

And that all but proved Valarion was lying.  Matt knew how deep the feud was between the two.  Valarion would never let Archimedes go.  But . . . play along.  

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just tell me one thing.  What are the Sisters looking for in Britan?  What is so important to them that they are willing to wreck two nations to find it?”

Matt paused.  Since last night he had known the answer to that very question.  He pondered, however, whether he should lie or tell the truth.  The truth, he decided, might be more disruptive than any lie. 

“You promise to let us go?”

“With money for passage.”  Valarion raised his palm in another gesture that had survived time and transit.  “You have my word.”

“All right,” Matt said, taking a deep breath.  “It's this:  They're looking for one of the Boxes.”

Valarion furrowed his eyebrows.  "Boxes?"

“You know.  The Box That Everything Came In.”

“Come on now.  That's just a myth.”

“We believed in it in Seattle.  So do the Sisters.”

“How do you know that?”

“Look at the mural maps in the Palace, the ones that they had painted.  There's a Box in Britan.  That's the one that they're looking for.”

“This is the first I've heard that there's more than one Box.”

“Well, according to that painting, there are three.  I think they have one already.  One is in Britan, and the Sisters are looking for it.”

“If they have one already, why do they need another one?”

Matt shrugged.  “You'd have to ask them.  Offhand, I'd say spare parts.  The Boxes can repair and refurbish themselves, but that ability declines with age.  So maybe they need another one to scavenge in order to repair the first.  But that's only a guess.”

“But why do they need a Box at all?”

Matt hesitated.  Valarion was power-hungry, and telling him about the power of the Box would only cause him to desire it and exploit it for his own purposes.  But how could he be worse than the Sisters?  At least, Valarion was human. 

Assuming that's a good thing
, Matt thought. 

“The Box,” Matt replied, “can create almost any form of life.  It can create and cure plagues.  It can create organisms that can bioengineer the climate.  It can create a race of super-warriors.  It can create plants and animals that can provide energy and materials for industrial – “

“Plagues and super-warriors?  You really believe that?”

Matt nodded.

“You're a greater fool than I had thought.  Even Archimedes knows the Box is only a myth.”

Matt looked into eyes that had originally belonged to Eric Roth, and wondered whether Valarion was sincere in his dismissiveness. 

“Anyhow,” Matt said.  “It doesn't matter what I believe.  What matters is what the Sisters believe.  And they believe in the Boxes, and that there's one in Britan, and that's why they want you to invade and occupy Britan, so that they can have thousands of soldiers looking for it all over the countryside with no one in their way.”

“Why not just hunt for it themselves?”

“I'm guessing they tried that.  Maybe now they want a more thorough search.”

“Yes, I can see that . . . but hold now.  Inoldia has refused to tell me of the true purpose of the Britanian campaign for years now.  And now you're claiming that they had the truth painted on the walls of the Palace.  How does that make sense?”

Matt frowned.  “You make a good point.  It does seem rather dumb.  Like one hand doesn't know what the other is doing.”

It was Valarion's turn to frown.  “I've often had that experience dealing with the Sisters.”

It appeared the Emperor was going to say more, but then he nodded to an unseen signal behind Matt's back.  In a grave tone, he said,  “Do not speak of this topic in her presence, or we will both die.”

A moment later, Inoldia walked into the courtyard, swaying arms and hips.  Valarion arose and bowed. 

"Lady Inoldia!  How delightful!  Come to see the Wizard?"

She glanced dismissively.  “He is no wizard.  Only another foolish mentor host.  And now he isn't even that.”

“Are you sure?  I've never been told of a mentor host who displayed the powers of last night.  I saw it myself.  The way he dodged arrows – “

“Dodge arrows?  I can do that.”  She pointed to an open window on the second floor.  “Have your man hiding there discharge his crossbow at me.”

Valarion, for once, looked sincerely pained.  “Inoldia, really, no demonstration is necessary – “

“Do it.”

Sighing, Valarion made a quick gesture.  An arrow streaked from the window, straight at Inoldia's chest.  Her hand moved almost too fast to see, and she grabbed the shaft. 

“I could dodge arrows if I needed to,” she said.  She examined the arrow, broke the shaft in two, and held the half with the arrowhead like a throwing knife.  She smiled at Matt – then flung the piece back at the window – as fast as the arrow had flown from the crossbow.  Matt heard a cry.  A crossbow and a human body tumbled over the widow sill, the arrowhead and shaft embedded in the guard's throat.

Reflexively, Matt almost got up to heal the man.  Then he thought of how Ivan was his one advantage against Valarion and Inoldia. 
This is about more than just one life
, he told himself.  Carrot, Archimedes – everyone.  He remembered the analysis that Ivan had performed on the plague virus.  It had been capable of killing everyone on Ne'arth.  Ivan was the only one who could stop that from happening again.