Feersum Endjinn

1

The girl looked down at him. Her brown face, framed by the white fur of her hat, looked open and honest. Her eyes held an expression somewhere between naivety and innocence. She gave a little sigh, and her shoulders, arms and muffed hands all rose a fraction. She looked, smiling, away over his head and with those calm, regarding eyes half closed as though in recollection, said:

'I did not know who I was; only that I might be able to help. I was born in the clan vault of the family Velteseri. They brought me here at my request. I was taken by —'

'Did not know, Asura?' he asked gently.

'— by people who wish to hold me and so try to stop me from doing what I am supposed to do.'

'Asura,' he asked, 'do you know who you really are now?'

She looked down at him, eyes glittering. 'Yes,' she said. 'Yes I do, Quolier.' She showed her teeth and took one gliding step forward, so that she was between the open end of the A-shaped ice-craft.

Quolier? he thought.

'Oncaterius,' the girl said, and there was something new and un-girl-like in her voice that set his heart racing. 'You slug; is this really the best you can do, impersonating an old lady scientist?'

He grabbed the right claw-oar and swung it at her.

She doubled up, dodging beneath the blow. He leapt from the ice-scull. The girl swung at him with one leg, but he cancelled the skates; this arena was within his control, and he had only ever allowed her to specify those rather than boots. The slicing kick brushed past his face and he felt the wind of it on his cheek. The girl staggered as the blade beneath her foot disappeared, but she did not fall.

The ice-scull trundled off a little way behind him; he lunged at the girl to force her back, then retreated two steps to the scull; he grasped the remaining oar and threw it away behind him, skittering and whirling across the ice.

The girl grinned at him, throwing away the hand muff with a similar gesture.

'Ah,' she said, glancing in the direction of the oar. 'It's to be a fair fight, then.'

He jabbed forward and swung the oar. The seven claw blades were needle-tipped and razor sharp; they hissed through the air in front of her face as she jinked back and side-stepped.

'Well, you still have the advantage of me in terms of names,' he told her, keeping himself between the girl and the other claw-oar, still sliding away across the ice.

'As in so much else, Oncaterius,' she laughed, dodging one way, then the other, as if trying to get past him. He was ready for the bluff, but not the double-bluff; the claw-oar slammed into the ice where the girl would have been as she slipped and skidded past behind him. He twisted, levering himself on the embedded oar to perform a sort of stunted vault and landing kneeling with the oar held out in front of him.

She had not attacked, and she had not attempted to run for the other oar, fifty metres or more away across the ice; instead she'd picked up the ice-scull, brandishing its thin A-frame in front of her now like a shield, and advancing.

'We have met before, haven't we?' Oncaterius said, rising and hefting the claw-oar as he moved forward too.

'Once or twice,' she agreed.

'Thought so,' he said, thinking furiously, certain he knew this person in some other guise. He cancelled the image he'd taken on, removing any trace of Gadfium from his appearance. There was just a hint of a delay as this took effect, almost as though the alteration had had to be approved, which ought not to be the case.

He watched the girl's tensed, intense face, framed by the ice-scull, edge closer to him.

He'd had enough of this. He attempted to cut out, back to base-reality, but the command failed. He was stuck here.

Now that was interesting, he thought. He tried thinking the girl unconscious, then imagined that the claw-oar was a gun, but neither worked. He attempted to summon help; that oaf Lunce was supposed to be waiting in the wings… No reply. The Serotin, then:… again, nothing.

Alone, then, as well as trapped.

'Problems, Quolier?' the girl asked, still advancing warily towards him. One of the ice-scull's rear blades caught the light and glinted, and for the first time Oncaterius realised that the spindly craft might be pressed into use as a weapon as well as a defence, and that he was just a little afraid. So this was how it felt.

He laughed. 'No, not really,' he said, then swung furiously at the girl. She fended the blow with the ice-scull; he was already swinging back, but that slice too was parried. He anticipated a counter attack and saw her moving as though to comply; he used his own momentum to whirl round and then brought the claw-oar up and then down where he expected her to move.

The claws ripped through the left arm of her coat, encounter­ing some resistance, then slammed into the ice. He hauled the claws back out as fast as he could and ducked and twisted, but the A-frame of the little ice-craft came whistling through the air and a blade bit into his shoulder.

They separated a few metres, each carried across the ice by their own momentum. She bled from the left arm, tattered fur hanging dripping red onto the ice, her face still set in a strange, eager grin. His own shoulder felt numb and suddenly stiff. There was blood on the ice at his feet.

He advanced again, feinted and swung; the claw locked into the ice-scull's frame; she twisted it and the oar was almost torn from his grasp. He pulled, skidded on both feet, and suddenly they were face-to-face through the A-frame of the craft, him pulling one way on the locked blades, her hauling in the other direction on the warping frame of the little ice-boat. Their breaths met in a single cloud amongst the carbon tubing.

Oncaterius tugged, feeling his feet start to slip, and planted them further apart. At least the shaft of the claw-oar was between them, preventing her kicking him in the balls. She was sweating. Blood was dripping from the elbow of her left arm. He felt the A-frame and the oar start to tremble as the girl's strength began to give out. She grunted, her mouth set in a compressed line. He was sweating too and his shoulder hurt abominably, but he could feel her gradually yielding to him.

Her breathing was laboured now; their faces were less than half a metre apart and he felt her breath on his face, smelling of nothing. He wondered — with a sort of furious idleness that allowed his real concentration to focus on the physical struggle — how far down the reality-base the parameters here extended. They were each modelled for muscles, skeleton, cardiovascular system and appearance, but was there some sub-routine running which impersonated their intestinal flora? He really ought to look into these things more closely. Meanwhile, all that mattered was that he was physically stronger than this girl, and the trembling he was feeling through the ice-craft's A-frame and the claw shaft was increasing as he forced the oar round.

He laughed, conscious of his breath clouding around her, enveloping her face. She frowned, and he knew he had won. He glanced, grinning, round the A-frame as he twisted it slowly round. 'Use my own scull against me, eh?"

Her eyes flashed. Her head came thudding forward and her forehead smacked into his nose. He heard a crunch and his face went numb. He dropped back and heard a great bell tolling inside him, as though his bones were metal and hollow and just struck. Something whacked into the back of his head, sounding another toll within his reverberating bones.

He lay, spread upon the ice. He tried to draw breath through the warm liquid bubbling up in his mouth and nose.

Then she was on top of him, her knees on either side of his chest, the front blade of the ice-scull cutting into the skin over his Adam's apple.

'All right, all right,' he said, spitting and spluttering through the blood. 'Tell you what; we'll call it a draw.'

She didn't reply. She was staring off to one side.

The ice beneath them trembled. Then — thirty metres or so away — the surface bulged and split; great wall-sized plates of ice tipped over and slammed back, breaking and splitting and spreading out across the water-filmed surface as from the middle of the spreading, creaking breach, in a blast of steam and smoke, a huge animal covered in thick, knotted hair appeared, the size of a house, the sweeping yellow brackets of its tusks as tall as a man, its trunk longer still, thicker than a man's leg and hoisted to the cold skies, blasting an ear-splitting bellow on a cloud of mist. On its back an ape-like thing screeched and punched the air while a giant black bird screamed and spread its broad wings. An elderly woman — clinging onto the beast behind the gibbering ape-man — glanced nervously under the bird's wings as the mammoth roared again and trod with surprising delicacy over the ice towards them.

She took a handful of the material at the neck of Oncaterius' one-piece suit and hauled him to his feet; he was unsteady and almost fell; blood poured from his face and he held both hands to his mouth and nose, trying to staunch the flow. He blinked at the sight of the approaching mammoth.

'Good grief,' he said, sniffing. 'Well, I hope they're your friends, because I haven't got a thing in.' He snorted back some blood, coughing. 'And the hairy one looks hungry.'

'Shut up, Quolier.'

'This is terribly amusing, but I'd make the most of it if I were you.' He snorted again, throwing his head back. She still held him by the neck of his suit. Tuck,' he said, 'did we really have to make pain so realistic here?' He coughed again.

The mammoth stopped five metres away. The beast's trunk swung, pendulous and heavy. The ape-thing chuckled, the great bird flapped once. The elderly lady looked down at them. She glanced at Oncaterius and looked rather shocked.

'Madam Chief Scientist Gadfium, I presume,' the girl said.

'Yes, hello,' she said. 'Are you the asura?'

She nodded. 'Apparently.'

'Well then,' Gadfium said, 'apparently we're here to rescue you.' She looked at Oncaterius again. 'Isn't that Consistorian Oncaterius?'

'Delighted, ma'am,' Quolier said, bowing. Blood splattered on the ice. He threw his head back once more and sniffed mightily. 'Actually, I'd been hoping we'd meet again. This is not quite how I'd imagined it, but —'

The girl shook him, quieting him. 'Shall we go?' she asked.

2

Gadfium — swung so violently through all three axes of motion that she feared both biting her tongue and losing her breakfast — clung desperately with both hands to the tangled fur on the back of the bellowing, charging mammoth. The ape-man in front of her whooped and screamed and waved both arms wildly in the air, only the grip of his legs on the animal's thick neck and a generous measure of luck preventing him from being thrown off. The lammergeier flapped overhead, cackling.

The troop of galloping beasts thundered through the streets of the dark city-port of Oubliette, scattering startled people to left and right.

They had exited the tunnels by a series of ramps leading to a huge dark hall full of neatly stacked railway wagons, then crashed through a partition wall of flimsy plastic boarding into an empty warehouse. Sweating and trumpeting, the mammoths had swept down the aisles in a half-dozen hairy streams, their humanoid riders whooping and clamouring.

The warehouse doors had given way; they let out onto a dock-side where black water stretched away under the dark sky of the vast cavern which housed Oubliette and the end of the tunnel which led to the distant sea. The mammoths had wheeled and headed along the dock between warehouses and ships for the city itself, their riders hollering and making faces at a few astonished container-crane operators and sailors.

A broad boulevard led up from the docks to the centre of the quiet city; there were some vehicles on the road but they had all stopped. The Security building was plain and undistinguished and formed one corner of a square. The other mammoths came to a stop outside; the one Gadfium was on thumped on up broad steps, turned at the top, kicked in the tall closed double doors with its rear legs and then turned and shouldered its way through. Gadfium had to duck. The lammergeier clung to the animal's rump behind her.

There were no obvious guards, just one man at a desk who sat staring straight ahead and did not react when they charged into the reception area, but sat immobile and unblinking.

– What's wrong with him?

– Our new friend, her own voice said. He's jamming the Security people's implants. We should be safe here for a while.

The ape-man hopped off the mammoth and bounced easily on the floor. He scampered for a door, which hissed open in front of him. He disappeared; the door seemed continually to be trying to close, but could not, and so oscillated fractionally back and forth with a series of clicks and hisses.

The lammergeier flew over to the receptionist's desk and settled there, folding its wings and stamping from foot to foot, making an S of its long, naked neck and staring quizzically up at the face of the unmoving man.

The ape-man reappeared at the hesitating door. He beckoned her. The mammoth settled, kneeling.

Gadfium sighed and clambered down off the mammoth. At least its knotted fur provided ample foot— and hand-holds.

– Get the receptionist's keys, her other self said.

She did. The ape-man took her hand and led her by corridors and stairs to a door with a complicated mechanical combination lock. The ape-man screamed and leapt up and down, hitting the lock with one fist.

– 6120394003462992, the voice in her said.

– One at a time, please.

-6…

The room beyond held a woman and a very large man, both of them sitting at a table holding cups and staring straight ahead.

The ape-man pulled her onwards.

The room led to another combination-locked door and then a corridor where her crypt self led her to a distant door; this door had an electronic lock — already winking green for Open — a combination lock and two key-locks.

The girl was inside, sitting on a small bed. She nodded when she saw Gadfium, and took the ape-man's hand when he ran to her, chuckling happily.

She came up to Gadfium.

'I am somewhere else as well,' she said. 'Come and see.' And she reached out and gently touched Gadfium's neck.

– Woa, here we go-

/And Gadfium was back on the great mammoth but this time in a crypt reality, where the great animal rose like a furry fist through a white glowing ceiling of ice. The little ape-man was seated in front of her again and the lammergeier flapped above.

They burst out onto the frozen surface, where a man with a bloody face lay on the ice, straddled by a slim girl in a fur coat who was holding the blade of an ice-scull to his neck and who had just turned to stare at them.

3

The mist was the world was the data corpus was the Crypto-sphere was the history of the world was the future of the world was the guardian of un-done things was the summation of intel­ligent purpose was chaos was pure thought was the untouched was the utterly corrupted was the end and the beginning was the exiled and the resiled, was the creature and the machine was the life and the inanimate was the evil and the good was the hate and the love was the compassion and the indifference was everything and nothing and nothing and nothing.

He dived within, becoming part of it, surrendering completely to it to accept it into him and dissolve himself within it.

He was a flake within the fall, an insect sucked up into the whirlwind, a bacterium caught within a water droplet forced whirling within the hurricane's howl. He was a particle of dust from the plain thrown up by the hoof of one horse within the charging line, a grain of sand upon the storm-besieged beach, a fleck of ash from the eruption's endless detonations, a mote of soot from the continent afire, a molecule within the encroaching dust, an atom from the star's heart thrown out in its last, majestic, exhaustive blast.

Here was the meaning at the core of meaninglessness and the meaninglessness at the centre of meaning. Here every action, every thought, each nuance of every least important mental event within any creature mattered utterly and fun­damentally; here, too, the fates of stars, galaxies, universes and realities were as nothing; less than ephemera, beneath triviality.

He swam through it all as it coursed through him. He saw backwards and forwards throughout time forever, seeing everything that had happened and everything that would happen and knew it was all perfectly true and completely false at once, without contradiction.

Here the chaos sang songs of sweet pure reason and reserve, here the loftiest aims and finest achievements of humans and machines were articulations of psychopathic insanity.

Here the data winds howled, dissociated as plasma, abrading as blown sand. Here the lost souls of a billion lives had poured and shattered and tattered and dissolved and mixed with a trillion extracted, excerpted strings and sequences and cycles of mutated programs, evolved virus and garbled instructions, themselves irretrievably compounded with uncountable irrelevant facts, raw figures and scrambled signals.

He saw, heard, tasted and felt it all, and was submerged within it and borne over it; he carried within him, always there and just collected, the seed of something else, something at once supersessant and insignificant, and foolish, wise and innocent all together.

He stepped ashore from a molten ocean of chaos, walked calmly from the belching volcano mouth, floated comfortably on the supernova's radiation wave-front to the dust-rich depths, always holding his charge.

… When he got to the garden he recognised it, and wondered if his future self would, but thought probably not. The rotunda was on the side of a small hill, surrounded by tall trees, manicured bushes and rounded, well-kempt lawns. A stream ran through the small valley, and a path led towards the towered house in the distance, through the formal hedge-garden.

He got to the vault and found that he held nothing in his arms after all, that his own naked self had been all there ever was, and knew he had always known that. There would be no other, no remainder or survivor who would walk away again afterwards.

He stood a while at the doorway to the rotunda, drinking in the place where he would lie down to die and something else would rise. It was not his home, not his clan's territory, not really part of anything or anywhere that he knew except that it was upon Earth, and fashioned by and for his own species, and so was part of his own and his ancestors and his descendants' aesthetic and intellectual inheritance.

It would, he told himself, have to do.

He wondered again what it was he was supposed to do, what message he was supposed to carry; he had hoped that at some point during all that had passed he might have discovered what the signal he was supposed to act as carrier for actually was, but in this he had been disappointed, if mildly; he had not really expected that to be part of the process. Still, it would have been nice to have known.

He looked around again, knowing that he had lived many lives, and each of them well beyond the term the vast majority of his forbears would have called a natural span, and knowing that he lived on, in a sense, elsewhere, but for all that he still experienced a feeling of regret at leaving the world, however foolish and ultimately trivial it all was, and could not help but let that reluctance detain him, just a few moments longer, to gaze upon the represented face of this small, pleasant garden, and still know that for now, for this moment — which whatever happened in the future always would have happened and always would have contained him — he was alive.

Then he approached the vault and entered it, stepping through the neat wall of cabinets and into one where something — he had no idea what or whom, but hoped they had the best of him, somehow, and that that would help them fulfil whatever their purpose was — would soon be born.

And so he fell asleep, to wake.

4

'Shall we go?' the girl asked, shaking the man with the bloody nose. Gadfium started to nod, but the ape-man jumped down from the mammoth, ran to its trunk, took the end of it and then led the mammoth over to the girl. He squatted in front of her and looked up into her eyes. He extended the hairy hand holding the tip of the beast's trunk towards her.

'Relative of yours?' Oncaterius asked, snorting blood.

The girl said nothing. She stared into the ape-man's eyes as he whimpered and made little nodding motions and continued to offer his hand and the mammoth's trunk.

Slowly, the girl put out her hand.

When their hands touched, the little ape-man and the mam­moth both disappeared and Gadfium found herself sitting on the ice, looking around, unhurt but still stunned. The girl shivered once. Then she blinked and turned to the man whose collar she held.

'Come on, Quolier, we have a meeting to attend.'

Adijine stared at the desk screen. 'What,' he said, slowly and calmly, 'the fuck is going on?'

The Security colonel's face looked grey. He winced a little. 'Ah, well, sir, we're not entirely sure. There seems to be some sort of, ah, problem associated with the Cryptosphere's error-checking protocols. We are in the process of switching to back-up electronic systems where possible but the interfaces are exhibiting crash tendencies under apparent parity contradictions. Ah…'

'Again, colonel,' the King said, drumming his fingers on the table top. 'In Clear.'

'Well, sir, the situation is somewhat uncertain, but there does appear to be some sort of violent, and, ah, virulent localised contamination centred around the Security unit in Oubliette but which has spread within the fabric of the main structure as far as the outer wall and intermittently elsewhere. We did conjecture that these phenomena might represent some sort of post-armistice sneak attack by the Chapel but they would appear to be having similar and related problems and therefore this hypothesis has been abandoned.'

'I see, I think,' Adijine said, looking around the state room as the lights flickered and the desk screen display wavered. 'And what was the last we heard from Oubliette?'

'Consistorian Oncaterius was in projected attendance inter­viewing the asura suspect. Then a disturbance was reported, first in the Cryptosphere and then in base-reality. Back-up Security units are on their way to the focus of the disturbance, though we are experiencing a degree of difficulty in maintaining contact with them. Reports are confused, sir.'

'As are we all, it would seem,' the King said, sitting back in his chair. 'Any further news from the fast-tower?'

'The situation was under control, last we heard, sir."

'And you were fighting — let me get this clear — birds?'

'Chimeric lammergeiers, sir. The sub-species believed responsible for and certainly associated with some of the Cryptospheric anomalies over the last few days. A number of them were successfully eliminated.'

'There was talk of a balloon.'

'An antique vacuum balloon appears to have been released.'

'Manned?'

'We are not certain, sir. Reports —'

'— are confused,' Adijine sighed. 'Thank you, colonel. Keep me informed."

'Sir.'

Adijine left the screen on. He removed his crown and put it back on again, then tried to crypt.

Nothing.

He placed the crown on the desk and leant his head back against the top of the chair, closing his eyes.

Nothing.

He got up and walked to the far end of the room, looking out through the broad windows and down into the depths of the Great Hall. Threads of smoke trailed into the air from the carpet of landscape. Airships floated against the ceiling, rolling helplessly. Then the room's lights went out and the windows polarised to black.

The King sighed into the darkness.

'Ah, Adijine, here you are,' said a half-familiar voice, immedi­ately behind him. He froze.

They stood in a vast circular space with a floor of gleaming gold, a velvet-black ceiling and what appeared to be a single all-round window looking out onto a whitely shining surface and a purple-black sky where stars shone steadily. Above them, suspended as though on nothing, hung a massive orrery; a model of the solar system with a brilliant yellow-white ball of light in the middle and the various planets shown as glassy globes of the appropriate appearance all fixed by slender poles and shafts to thin hoops of blackly shining metal like wet jet.

Under the representation of the sun, there was a brightly lit circular construction like some half-built room. A group of perhaps two dozen people sat on couches and seats within the circle, blinking and looking up and around and at each other. Some looked surprised, some nervous and some gave the impression of trying strenuously to look neither.

The girl, Gadfium and Oncaterius walked across the glistening floor towards the group in the centre. The girl had exchanged her furs for an old-fashioned-looking boiler suit. Oncaterius looked uninjured now but his hands were bound together, as were his feet, with Resiler shackles, forcing him to adopt a shuffling gait. There was a piece of tape across his mouth. He looked quietly furious.

The girl walked into the centre of the group. Gadfium stood with Oncaterius on the circumference. She looked round the people. She recognised all of them; Adijine, the twelve Consistorians, the three most senior Army generals and the heads of the most important clans, with the exception of Aerospace but including Zabel Tuturis, head of the Engineers and leader of the Chapel rebels. They were all bound hand and foot with Resiler spancels and had their mouths taped over like Oncaterius. Also like him, none of them looked particularly pleased with their situation.

Gadfium stared at the slight figure of the young girl, who stood under the model sun, looking round the others, an expression of satisfaction on her face. If what she was seeing was a true representation of this group's current status… Gadfium thought about it, and found herself gulping.

'Thank you all for being able to attend at such short notice,' the girl said, smiling.

Brows furrowed, eyes glared, expressions darkened. Gadfium wondered what it must feel like to be the focus of such concen­trated — and potentially potent — wrath. The girl seemed to be revelling in it.

She snapped her fingers. The rest of the vast circular room around them filled instantly with a mass of people, all standing looking in at the group in the centre. Gadfium inspected the nearest faces. All different; just people. They looked real enough, but frozen somehow, as though they were watching in base-level time. Perspective, or the angle of the floor, seemed to have changed; it was as if the whole huge space was now a shallow cone, giving everybody in the room, even those with their backs to the distant windows, a clear view of the group in the centre.

'We're going live to whoever wants to watch,' the girl explained to the seated group.

She clasped her hands behind her back. 'Think of me as Asura, if you like,' she announced, pacing slowly in a small circle, her gaze sweeping around each member of the group. 'Firstly, some background.

'We are here because of the Encroachment and the inappro­priate response to it exhibited by those in power. The facts concerning the dust cloud and the effects it will have on Earth unless checked have been neither exaggerated nor down-played. At least one of the rumours concerning it is also true; there may indeed be a system which can deliver us all from the Encroachment. If there is, we ought to know soon. Again, if there is, access to it may be through the heights of the fast-tower, part of which this is a representation of.'

(And, in a distant province, Pieter Velteseri watched, like millions of others.

He had been gossiping with one of his sisters and dandling a grandchild when one of his nephews had walked into the con­servatory complaining his implants weren't working properly and he was getting some weird live broadcast swamping every­thing.

Pieter had worried that it might be something to do with the attention they'd been getting from the Security people — tapped communications, interviews through the crypt and in person — all of which seemed to be linked to Asura, who'd disappeared at the airport tower before cousin Ucubulaire could find her. Pieter had crypted to see what was happening, and there she was!

He watched, fascinated.)

'There certainly is a potential escape route for a few,' the girl said, standing beneath the model of the sun and looking around the represented crowd, 'a secret passage, if you like. It is in the shape of a wormhole; a hole through the fabric of space-time. One end is contained within the Altar Massif, in the Chapel, here in Serehfa; the other end is located either in a space ship of the Diaspora or on a planet which one of the ships reached.'

She paused, glancing at Gadfium.

Gadfium was aware that her mouth was hanging open. She closed it. The seated people looked mostly bitter, resentful or angry, though one or two appeared as surprised as she felt.

'The recent dispute amongst our rulers was over control of the wormhole portal,' Asura went on. 'The Chapel commands access to the portal but cannot operate it; the Cryptographers may or may not be able to do so, depending on whether they can design and run the appropriate programs. In any event, the wormhole is physically small, and even if it is brought to an operational state in the next few months — an unlikely and optimistic time scale — it could only ever be used to save a tiny fraction of Earth's human population."

The girl looked over the heads of the seated group to the ranks of people standing behind. 'Hence the struggle for power, the war, and the secrecy. Of course, the wormhole might save many more of us — perhaps all — if we were transmitted in an uploaded form, but that solution does not appear to have appealed to our rulers, who took the decision on everybody else's behalf that it would be unacceptable.

'There is another reason for their reluctance to commit themselves to a purely non-biological form, and that involves the chaos.'

The girl paused, gazing again round the seated group before addressing the silent crowds beyond.

'What we choose to call the chaos is in fact an entire ecology of AIs; a civilisation existing within our own which is enormously more complex than ours and supports immensely greater numbers of individuals, as well as being, by the most meaningful standards of mensuration, vastly older.

'When the Diaspora occurred the humans who chose to remain on Earth also chose to renounce both space and Artificial Intelli­gence; in that sense, we are all Resilers, or at least the descendants of Resilers. The world data network of the time was swept almost completely free of virus; it had, of course, already exported all its AIs. Nevertheless, the corpus could not be freed entirely of non-controllable entities and the inevitable process of selection and evolution took place within the niches available within it, and so the chaos grew. Our rulers have chosen to ignore the full implications of the chaos for all these generations because its very existence fails to accord with their philosophy, their faith, if you like; that humanity is supreme, and that not only does it not need to cooperate with what it calls the chaos, but must actively oppose it.

'However, for all this supposed supremacy, there can be no doubt that in the war our ancestors chose to instigate and we have blindly continued to wage, the chaos is winning. Consider; the speed-up factor between base-reality and the crypt is only ten thousand. It ought to be closer to a million. The discrepancy is accounted for by the ludicrously complicated error-checking systems required to prevent the further proliferation of the chaos. Still, the chaos advances, taking up a little more of the data corpus with each generation and slowing the crypt down further. And the chaos always and only advances, never retreats. We can build new hardware, but eventually it too becomes contaminated, either through direct data intrusion or through nanotechs — also, naturally, ignored, banned and persecuted — acting as carriers. Our war upon the nanotechs is equally doomed, of course, though we have had a little more success in limiting their spread and forcing them to assume forms we find more acceptable.' The girl smiled broadly. 'Babilia is their most successful strain, I think you'll find.'

Gadfium nodded. Well, that made sense. Babil research had been an arcane and paranoically secretive area for as long as she could remember.

'So,' the girl said, lifting her head and looking round the crowd again. 'How do I know all this?' She gestured at the seated people. 'Because part of what I am was once like these people, and part has travelled the crypt and part has swum within the chaos.' She glanced at Oncaterius, then settled her gaze on Adijine and spoke as though to him. 'Base-reality years ago, the man who became Count Sessine made a data copy of himself; the construct was left to roam the upper levels of the crypt and provide an ally there should Sessine ever need one. One day, he did. The construct helped Sessine's final iteration to escape those trying to destroy him and sent him in search of further help; not for himself, but for us all. That ultimate Sessine wandered the Uitland limits of the crypt until he was contacted by one of the systems the Encroachment's approach has activated; he allowed his mind to be used as the framework for the personality of a human asura the system created. The construct he'd left behind in the main data corpus prepared for the hoped-for arrival of the asura, attempting to contact both the chaos and anybody or anything in the fast-tower.'

The girl looked away from the King, looking around the rest of the seated group and the surrounding crowd with a kind of defiance.

'I am both that construct and that human asura. I am all that remains of Alandre, Count Sessine. I have had the cooperation of what we call the chaos in arranging this… presentation, and while the chaos has shown no interest in using this opportunity to extend its grip on the data corpus, it could give no guarantee in that regard. Doubtless I shall anyway be cursed as a traitor to my species, at least initially and perhaps in the longer term as well. However, I believe that the units of the ancient planetary defence systems still residing in the fast-tower have now awoken, and that they await the asura.

'And be assured that the asura is our very last chance; there was never any need for our salvation to rely on so fragile a method of deliverance, but our forbears, like our present rulers, did everything in their power both to locate and destroy any information pertaining to the defence systems and to attack and corrupt the automated systems themselves within the fast-tower; they have always known that these might save us, but long ago chose — again, on our unknowing behalf — to attempt to extinguish even that link with the Diaspora. Luckily for all of us, they have failed. It is only through the patience and tenacity of exactly the sort of Artificial Intelligences our rulers so despise that even this last slim chance has been preserved, and we can only hope that it will be successful.'

The girl bowed, slowly and formally.

Suddenly the bonds restraining the seated people vanished, as did their gags. Gadfium staggered back as they rose and rushed shouting in towards the girl. Oncaterius, who'd been standing rather than sitting, had a one-pace start. Something appeared in the air above him, red and glistening and twisting violently; it fell upon the girl, screaming:

'Gidibibigibidibibidibi!'

The girl looked exasperated. She plucked the thing from her hair with one hand and crushed it; first it and then she vanished, an instant before Oncaterius' grabbing hand would have clamped onto her arm.

The room, all the people in it and the fabric of sensation itself seemed to waver and haze then, and Gadfium felt a moment of sickening dizziness before everything seemed to snap back into focus again.

Adijine whirled to Oncaterius. 'Check the distribution on this,' he said, then — as the others in the group started to disappear, some of them together, already talking urgently — the King looked round the crowd of watching people and raised his magnificently leonine head, frowning. 'Fellow citizens,' he intoned. 'Obviously most of what you have heard is untrue. What can be confirmed is that an act of war has been committed upon us; an attempt had been made to extend the chaotic levels to include the crypt's higher functions. That attack is being resisted vigorously. What you have witnessed here has been a bid to spread confusion, despair and contempt for the rule of law amongst all loyal subjects. I know that it will not have succeeded. Please, do not panic. We shall keep you informed on the progress being made to combat this despicable and treacherous attack. Thank you, and remain vigilant.' Adijine glanced at Oncaterius, then he disappeared. The crowds vanished an instant later. The huge room was almost empty.

Oncaterius turned to glare at Gadfium. They were the only people left in the representation for a second or two, then the place filled with Security personnel. Most of them levelled weapons at her. Two of them pinned her arms.

'You,' Oncaterius spat, pointing at her, 'are under arrest.'

– Oh no you're not, laughed her own voice.

The room vanished.

She staggered, unsure of both where she was and where she was supposed to be. She was sitting. The girl who'd called herself Asura stood in front of her. Gadfium looked around; she was in what looked like some sort of small lobby. It was pleasantly if rather old-fashionedly furnished. The air was warm and smelled odd; stuffy, somehow, even stale. Two sets of double doors faced each other across the room. The lammergeier was perched on a table beside her, gazing levelly at her.

'Now where are we?' Gadfium asked.

'Not far from where we were,' Asura said.

– Near Oubliette, her own voice told her.

Asura looked at one of the sets of doors. 'We're waiting,' she announced.

– For the elevator, to take her to the top of the fast-tower, said the voice in Gadfium's head.

– How did-

– The presentation as she called it took place in base-level time, with a half-hour hiatus immediately afterwards when the whole upper crypt became chaotic. All of that gave her time to get herself and you back into the tunnels. The mammoth troop is either standing guard or leading any pursuit away in the wrong direction.

– What did she do, carry me?

– No; you walked the last bit. You just weren't really here, that's all. But it means you don't know where you are, which is what she wanted. Oh, and I'm only in your implants now; I had to leave the data corpus or Security might have been able to trace our movements through me. Only temporary, though; I can download again.

– I see. Well, welcome back aboard.

– Thank you.

Asura was looking down and smiling at a ring on one of her hands. It appeared to be silver with a small red stone.

– What about the bird? Gadfium asked, smiling uncertainly at the animal.

– It isn't under Asura's control. It is some sort of ally though and it may be the birds are avatars of whatever is in the fast-tower. They get instructions from somewhere and they seem to have their own agenda, but nobody has been able to work out what it is yet. Well, I haven't and Asura says she hasn't either.

– Why has she brought me?

– You're a waif, Gadfium; a stray. You've been picked up for your own good. But don't worry about it.

– What about you? Does she know about you?

– Yes, of course she does. There isn't much she doesn't know about.

Gadfium looked over at the girl. Every now and again she would look down at the ring she wore, and smile.

– So, is this lift on its way?

– Not yet, I think.

– Shall I ask her how long she intends to wait?

– If you like.

'Until the elevator arrives,' the girl told her before Gadfium could say anything. 'Or until we are captured or some different circumstance otherwise determines our course of action.' She smiled. 'We must be patient, Hortis,' she said. 'This place is not recorded on the plans that Security use, and it took me a very long time to find it, even with help. It ought to remain undiscovered and so safe for some time, though doubtless Security — and especially Consistorian Oncaterius — will be doing all they can to find us. I imagine we ought not to have to wait more than a few hours. Would you like to sleep again in the meantime?'

'No, thank you,' Gadfium said, quickly holding up one hand. 'No, I'll stay awake, thanks.'

'Good,' the girl said, and sat down, her hands clasped on her lap and her gaze fixed on the double doors across the room.

– Oh. So she can hear what we're saying.

– Yes.

Asura turned to her and smiled as though coy, then turned her attention to the double doors again.

Gadfium took a deep breath and watched them as well.

5

Itz a very strainje feelin wakin up alive when u wer fooly expectin 2 b ded. Speshily when u fot u wer reely reely ded, like compleetly uttirly & finely. U sorta cum roun sloly thinkin; I muss b ded, but Im finkin, so I cant b, so whots goan on heer then? U r evin a bit fritind about wakin up eny moar in case thers sum sorta unplesint surprise in stoar, but then u fink, wel, Im never goan no whots goan on unless I do wake up, & so u do.

I opin my Is.

Gloari bleedin b, its brite & warm. Im lyin on ma bak lookin up @ sum sorta sculptchir or mobil or sumfin; a bludy hooj 1, 2. Thers this grate big planit fing suspendid rite abuv me & ol theese uthirs suspendid from thi seelin & conectid wif hoops & stuf. I sit up. Im in sum kinda big sirculir room with dark windos; stars outa 1 side, thi Encroachment on thi uthir. Thi thing abuv me seems 2 b a modil ov thi solar sistim & it takes up most ov thi space in thi room. In thi midil ov thi room, undir thi big gloab ov thi sun, thers a buncha cowches, seets & desks & stuf. Thers a gy thare, standin on a desk, holdin his hand up 2 thi modil sun. He sez sumthin, nods, then gets down & cums ovir 2 me. Heez got blond hare & goldin Is & skin like dark polishd wood. Heez wayrin a pare ov shorts & a litl waystcoat. He waves 2 me.

O helo, he sez, r u ol rite?

Not 2 bad, I say, witch is tru. My soar hed's a lot betir & thi.rest ov me isnt aykin 2 mutch Ither but if I had 2 pik 1 improovmint abuv ol thi uthirs it wude ½ b thi fact I doan feel like Im juss abowt 2 dy eny moar.

Welcum 2 thi hi Grate Towr, thi holo blossim ov thi fastniss, he sez. This iz thi Orrery Room. May i help u up?

Thanx, I sez, akseptin his hand & getin 2 ma feet.

Thi lites in thi room flikir. Thi man lukes up & smilez.

Ah, he sez. He lukes bak @ thi centir ov thi room, goze stil 4 a sekind, then lukes @ me & wif a grate big smyle on his fayce sez, Fayth moovs mownitins. From our holoniss is discharjed owr sentril purpis; it is sent that we may b deliverd.

Padin? I sed.

Cum; let me find u sumthin 2 eet & drink.

Wel, I wen wif thi gy, but I doan mind sayin I woz givin him a funy luke bhind his bak. He got me 2 sit in a chare in thi centir ov thi rume & startid fiddlin wif sum sorta control fings on 1 ov thi desks.

It's bin so long, he sez, scratchin his hed. Whot wude u like? he asks.

Frankly chum, I sed, am parcht. I fancy a cup ov t but enyfin wet wude do.

T, he sez, scratchin @ hiz nodil agen. T; let me c. He punchiz sum moar controals.

I luke up @ thi modil ov thi sun hangin ovir my hed. I stil doan feel 2 brliyint but Im a lot betir than I woz. I ½ a stretch & luke aroun. Lyin on a neerby desk thers thi pakidje I woz supoasd 2 delivir heer.

O I sez. Scuse me, is that pakidje 4 u then? & poynt @ it.

Whot? he sez, turnin & lukein @ it. O, i spose so, if u like, he sez, & turns bak 2 thi controls.

Ahem, I sez. I doan wan 2 apeer ungratfil or nuffin but I did neerli dy getin that pakidje up heer; wude u mind telin me whot woz in it?

In it? thi gy sez, frownin @ me. O, ther woznt actchooli enythin in it. He goze bak 2 thi screen. T, he sez, t t t. Hmm.

I stare @ him.

Wel then, hulo? am saying scuse me, but wel then; whot thi bleedin hel woz thi poynt ove me cumin up heer then?

Thi gy turnz & smiles @ me, then turnz away agen.

I juss sit thare shakin ma hed & feelin lyk a pryz idyit.

Thi chap wif thi goldin lox muttirs 2 himself & eventyerli gets a sorta silindir 2 apeer up outa thi desk. He reetchis inside & brings outa a cup ov stuf witch he shos me.

T? he sez.

I snif thi cup & shak ma hed. Cola, I sez. But itil do. Cheers.

Frangly its crap cola but begirs cant b choosirz.

Sumfin to eet? thi gy sez, lukin hoapfil.

I fink about this. Whot wude u rekomend? I ask.

I drink anuthir few cups ov soda — its getin betir wif eech cup — whyle thi gy trys 2 get sum cakes 2gethir but wifout mutch suksess. Hes starin @ a pyl ov steemin pink goo thi desks just prodoosed when he straitins & luks @ me, smilin & lukin ded hapy.

Then sumfin drops onto ma sholdir from abuv.

Its time to stare agen. So I stare.

Bascule; helo agen. Wel dun. Mishin akumplished. U no, I lost count ov thi times I cursed u 4 yoor damd persistins ovir thi past cupil ov days, when far 2 mutch ov ma time seemd 2 b spent makin arrainjmints 4 yoor saifti witch u seemd 2 dvote ol yoor efirts 2 frustraytin, but in thi end I needid help & u wer thare 2 provyd it. I thang u. Wel, sumfin 2 tel yoor grandchilrin, I supoas. Don't u fink?… Bascule? Bascule, can u heer me?

I stare @ thi tiny litil thing sitin on ma sholdir.

Ergates? I sez hoarsly.

Hoo els?

Is it reely u?

U no eny uthir to kin ants?

Whot thi bleedin hel u doin up heer?

Deliverin a mesidje.

Thass whot they toal me, I sez, glansin @ thi blond gy, hooz stil mutterin & punchin butins.

A nesisery fabrikation. Whot u wer reely deliverin woz me.

U?

Me. Aftir I abandind my baloon I had got so far up thi steps from thi sentril shaft, but then it becaim obvyis I cude go no furthir bcoz ov thi doar — doars in thi plooril as it turnd owt — blokin ma way. Very frustraytin. I woz abil 2 contact thi lammergeiers but thi burd they sent 2 help me cude not evin reech me b4 thi por creetchir dyd. U wer lyk thi ansir 2 owr prayrz. I juss hopt on u as u pasd & hitchd a lift.

So I did heer u wen I tryd 2 kript! I fot I woz dyin!

Actyerli i think u wer, Bascule, but u also did heer me.

Nyway, I sez, poyntin @ thi blond puntir struglin wif thi food-desk thing, y cuden this gy ½ cum & helpt u?

He did not no I woz on ma way. Thi fass-towr is not thi eesiest ov plaisis 2 comyoonicate wif evin if we had wantid 2 anownse I woz on ma way. He onli new we wer heer wen I woz abil 2 activayt thi doar 2 thi botim-most live floar.

I juss luke @ that dam ant 4 a wile.

So r u this asoora evribod's bin tokin about?

No, Ergates sez, laffin. Tho i woz creatid in a simla mannir. My task woz 2 act as a kee 4 thi towr axess sistims; they wer kept seperit from thi rest of the towrs funksins so that if thi towr AIs wer evir infectid wif thi kaos they cude not fasilitayt a fizikil invayzhin ov thi towrs upir reechis. I supose am a sorta micro-asoora if u lyk, tho ol ive reely dun is press a lift butin.

But whot abowt that bleedin lammergeier whot snatchd u from Mr Zoliparias; that woz ol a set-up, woz it?

Ov coars.

But u shoutid ma naim & went Eek!

Had 2 mak it luke convinsin.

U mite ½ sed gudeby.

I wayvd ma anteni; whot moar u wont?

Bludy hel. I stare in2 thi distins, then luke up @ thi mobile.

So whots goan hapin now? I ask. Whot were u doin up thare?

I woz deliverin a messidje 2 a receptor chip berrid in thi modil erth. Thi coad itself is meeningless but its supoasd 2 activayt thi relivint sistims. Evrything seems 2 b wurkin, tho ther r reportz we may not ½ tym 2 test thi elivaytirs. I ½ 2 say I didn xpect my arivil & that ov thi asoora 2 okur in qwite sutch close proximiti.

Cake! thi gy sez, & brings ovir a plate cuverd wif smol steemin brown lumps. I snif them.

Miby sumfin in thi savery line mite be moar apopryit, I sujest. Thi gy lukes like his crest juss fel.

O! # browns; my fayvrit! Ergates sez. Let me @ them.

Thi gy lukes hapier & ofirs thi playt 2 Ergates, who climes on2 it & lifts a crum bigir than she is & then returns 2 my sholdir.

Yoor Is r bigir than yoor stumik, I tel hir.

Im a ant; my Is r bigir than my stumik.

Smart ass.

Then thi goldin-Id geezir straytins, lukes unfocussd 4 a bit & sez, Ah, we ½ sumbodi reqwestin 2 join us. Elivater WesNorWes.

Am abowt 2 say, So? Whot u telin me 4? when Ergates specks;

Is it hir? she sez.

Yes, thi gy replyz. (I giv him a funy luke; I fot only I cude heer Ergates speek.) & 1 ov thi wingd emiserys, thi gy continuse, + anuthir she wil vowch 4.

I wude sujest we alow them 2 assend, sez Ergates.

Very wel, thi gy sez.

Weer goan 2 ½ cumpany, Ergates telz me.

There were three sets of doors; they hissed open in sequence, revealing a small cylindrical elevator with couches similar to those in the waiting room. A wave of cold air spilled from the lift's opened doors. Gadfium and Asura walked into the chilly interior. The lammergeier hopped in after them, cackling excitedly.

The doors closed, one after another.

The elevator lifted quickly; Gadfium sat down along with Asura, who wore an expression that seemed both relaxed and concentrated at the same time. She glanced once at her ring.

The lammergeier looked uncomfortable under the vertical acceleration.

It went on for some time.

6

Wel heer we r, us exiles trapt in thi towr. Iss bin a hoal munf so far sins we tuk refuje up heer. Evribodi seems hapi enuf so far.

Thers me, Asoora, Madam Gadfyum & lots ov lammergeiers. Weev got a hoal bludy flok ov them birds up heer; a lode ov them manidjed 2 get 2 thi lift whot brot up Asoora & Madam Gadfyum, b4 thi Security geezirs found it. Now they cant get up & we cant get doun but I no whare Id rathir b. Asoora sez it doan matir nway as thers uthir lifts they ½nt fownd, tho we shuden b in eny hury 2 yoos thoas juss yet.

… Whot happind wen Asoora & Madam Gadfyum got heer woz ded simpil; Asoora went strate up 2 thi big globe ov thi sun & put hir hand up & tutched it & stayd that way 4 a minit or so wyle thi rest ov us luked on, then she sat down & cloasd hir Is.

Whot happins now? I askd thi golden-Id gy.

Weel no if its wurkd in 16 minits, he sed.

16 minits, I fot.

Rang a bel, sumhow, but I cooden fink qwite witch 1.

Let me mak sum introdukshins, I herd Ergates say…

Thi fass-towrs branes got thi kaos but it didn seem 2 b botherd. Thi golden hare-and-Is bloak dozen seem 2 ½ chainjed sins thi kaos got in2 thi towrs computirs but then frangli he woz a few fevvirs shot ov a fool wing 2 start wif so no chainje thare.

Asoora sez thi hoal naytchir ov thi kaos may b abowt 2 chainje soon nway, or @ leest thi way we luke @ it mai b abowt 2 chainje, witch wude amownt 2 thi saim thing. Furst we got 2 stop fitein it tho.

Al bleev it when I c it.

Thi ole fass-towr's a fassinaytin playse; thers a lot moar 2 it than juss thi big rume wif thi orrery; thass like juss 1 litil rume out ov 100s. Bits r a bit dilapidaytid & 1 or 2 bits r off limits bcoz they wer punkchird by metirites & byond repare & so coodint b re-presserized & heetid when thi towr woak up, but moast ov itz up & runin agen & itz juss a totil hoot. Amazin vews, 4 a start.

Thers loada fassinaytin mashines up heer; grate big hooj Is like spaice guns & stuf but also lots ov litil robots. Thi robots wer tryin 2 fix sum ov thi big mashinery theyv got up heer. They moastly broke down when thi towr got thi kaos & a lot ov thi 1s that didn had 2 b deactivatid, but sum ov them stil run on thare own on-board computers, whitch rnt very clevir but let them moov & do stuf.

Its a bleedin edyercayshin livin up heer, I tel u; thers telescopes & a mooseum ov space flite wif wurkin simyerlaters & 000s ov hotel rumes & swimin bafs & flooms & ice rinx & a hooj & totily brilyint spyril skee sloap & a hoal bludy sqwadron ov space planes tho thayr far 2 old 2 b yoosd & wude certinly blo u 2 smivereens if u tryd 2 fly them, whitch is a pity. Thers also rokits & satelites & ol sortsa stuf & as Asoora poyntid out when she woz negoshiatin wif this gy Oncoterrerist & thi uthir bags downstares, sum ov thi stuf we got up heer cude make a reely nasty mess ov thi cassil if we woz 2 start dropin it or lonchin it on them. She sed they bcame grately less agresiv when she sent them pictchirs.

Nway, thi roolirs ½ got enuf on thare playts @ thi momint as it is wif out wurryin about us; ol sortsa shaykups happenin down thare. Thi Kriptografers & Endjineers ½ got 2gethir & r tryin 2 get thi wurmhoal operayshinil, evin tho it lukes like we woant need it 4 escaypin. Old Adijine is stil King but heez ½in 2 fite increesin cols 4 his abdicayshin + ol thi clans ½ demandid & got reprisentayshin on thi Consistery but evin so bags stil rnt hapy & feel thayv bin missled & want moar info & say. Aparintly thi fastist groan politikil moovmint @ thi momint is 1 colin 4 Asoora 2 b made Qween or President or sumfin. Watch that spaice, like they say.

Weev got axess 2 thi kript now 2, & Ive bin in tutch wif Mr Zoliparia, hoo woz moast releevd I woz ol rite & is currintly in a triky posishin in owr Go game. I also contactid thi Littil Big Bros. Doan fink Il b doin eny Tellin 4 a while; we didn looz mutch 2 thi kaos but in thi curint State Ov Emerjency Im not thi sorta persin thi Littil Bigs want 2 assosyate wif, whitch is fare enuf; plenty 2 do up heer & I cude always go freelans if I misd it, whitch I doant.

Asoora muss ½ mistaykinly thot I woz upset @ getin nokd bak by thi Bros bcoz juss aftirwurds she made me a presint ov hir ring. I woz reely pleesd enyway but evin moar so when I reelised whot it actcherly is. Itz got a litil red stone in it & if u luke reely cloasly u can c sumfin moovin abowt in thare sumtimes & if u try 2 kript in2 it u can heer sumfin way way in thi distins goan gidibibibigidi (etc), very tiny & smol & far away & playntiv.

Har har har, I sez.

Nope, am prity hapy heer & so r thi uthirs I fink. Asoora & Madam Gadfyum tok a lot & do lotsa studyin & thers anuthir Madam Gadfyum whot livs in thi fass-towrs branes & is helpin Asoora tok wif thi kaos. Ergates makes me lern lotsa stuf 2, claymin my edyoocashin isn ovir yet & sheez probly rite I supoas Iv stil got fings 2 lern.

As 4 thi hoal reesin Asoora woz sent heer in thi 1st place, 2 delivir thi messidje whitch woz suppoasd 2 poot everyfin in moshin in jeneril & Do Sumfin abowt thi Encroachmint, wel that appears 2 ½ gon smoovly, aftir a iffy start.

Thi furst sine ov whot woz goan on woz a badun; thi amownt ov lite from thi sun dropt by a 8th, ovirnite. Evrybudy, evin thi cyantists, got in a bit ov a blu funk abowt this. Ther wer ryits in thi cassil & elswhare & I myself remembir finkin, O fuk, & Whot ½ we dun? & Whot is 2 bcum ov us? That sorta fing. But then from that day on thi lite startid 2 increes agen, very sloly but continyerly.

Thi sun shon down, thi moon did likewyse, thi planits continyood on ther alotid pafs, but it woz like thi big ole nasty Encroachmint had gon in2 revers, howevir unlikely that mite sound.

It woz sum time b4 thi astronimers spotid whot woz reely happinin & it woz a evin longir time b4 they convinsd themselvs it woz tru, but it woz & it is & now we no xactly whot thi bags ov thi Diaspora left us wif 2 get us outa trubil, & itz a feersum endjinn indeed.

Thi sun shines a teeny bit strongir evry day, & tho itil b a long time b4 nybody can c it wif thi naykid I, thi starz ½ moovd.

Thi End.