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Betrayals: eightby Steve Bowers |
Zero minus two hundred and twenty three years (continued)
Looking through the sheets and walls of fabric Augusta noticed that the desert was now sharp and clear, stretching back towards the way they had come, the light starting to fail as the luminaire grew dim.
She moved over to the robots Max and Erek, who were analysing the foods on offer instead of eating them, just to be sociable.
"Hmm, Tahini- the lemon juice is real, but the rest is nano-paste." Max had several fronds dipped into the various foodstuffs.
‘The recycling plant has to be very efficient out here in the deep desert, of course.’
Erek extended his neck out and down to peer at the pastries. ‘The humans who live here produce plenty of organics as waste and it all goes back into the cycler. If there is a source of carbonate rock round here, the recycler can replace all the carbon lost to respiration easily enough.’
"You robots must be jealous because you can't shit- you are always talking it," Augusta said.
"Oh, hello, Augusta, did you find your chat with Alix enlightening? Everyone here says he's just a cynical old
galoot."
"He talks a lot of sense, actually… I’ve got it all in the bag, as they say.
Well, it'll be dark soon, I might take a look at the stars if Prior A gets out of the way for a bit – they say it is very clear here."
Max flicked his eye-fronds towards the open desert. "That is interesting- the sandcrawler conglomeration has disappeared. Perhaps it will split up into sensible sized modubots and come in to
socialise."
`It would be nice to talk to some real people, Max,' said Erek, displaying the traditional smiley face ideogram indicating a joke or ironic statement. Augusta flicked a smiley onto her chest display space in return.
Holding a long iced drink, Selinn appeared at the wide entrance to the dining hall, but a strange shadow seemed to follow her and move up the cool fabric walls around the door. She hesitated, as if she thought she was being followed.
“The most peculiar thing- I was sure someone walked in behind me, but now there’s no-one there,” she said.
“But there is something moving- look! Some sort of dark stain. How odd.”
The dusky shadow had spread over the entire wall, and now crept over the canvas ceiling. It seemed to be no more than a slowly passing cloud between the sunshade and the overhead Luminaire, but they had seen no clouds since yesterday.
“Twilight isn’t scheduled for another hour, Augusta said, after checking the local net. She called up a local weather report (hot – dry – dust ~ *klick*)
“Now I’ve lost the net, “she complained, but Max suddenly stretched up to his full broomstick height.
“Something isn’t right, I’ve lost all wirefree data links- this could be a hazardous situation- everybody come into the centre of the room now.”
A fine dust was drifting down from tiny holes in the canvas overhead that were not there before. Selinn started to frantically brush it out of her hair - “Get it off me – by the Hand, it is sticky! Erh. Errghh!”
‘Don’t panic, Selinn,’ said Erek, in his slow calm voice. ’This I have seen before. It is only the sandcrawler modubots in a dissociated form. This is how they prepare for storage or maintenance. They are under the control of the Varillista central processor, and are quite harmless. Although I have never seen them get in people’s hair before.’
"These little bastards shouldn't be dropping down and getting all over us, Max- augh- getting in my mouth too-" Augusta coughed, and spat.
"There are modules jamming themselves between my manipulator fronds-" Max was saying, in a seemingly detached voice,
"in a second or two I will be -- Ah, yes. There now. I am, in effect, totally helpless. This can only be a malicious attack of some sort. Like Erek said, best remain calm."
The grey dusty modubots crept over all the surfaces in the dining hall, tables, chairs, food, robots, humans.
Finally all movement stopped, with the robots completely covered, but Augusta realised that her head was now free of the dust from the neck up. She tried to move her arm, her hand, her fingers- nothing.
Oh Binah, she thought.
"Whoever has invaded this peaceful assembly declare yourself now!" Alix, the maitre, was roaring into thin air, this head free, but his body supported in a frozen and apparently unbalanced fighting stance.
‘YOU ARE IN NO DANGER’
A toneless voice came, that seemed to issue from the grey dust itself, and from every direction at once.
`FOLLOW ALL INSTRUCTIONS WE GIVE YOU, AND THE UNFORTUNATE CONSEQUENCES WILL BE MORE FEW.’
Augusta, although she was hopelessly trapped by the modubot overcoat, was more surprised by the choice of words used by the neutral voice. She had read somewhere it was possible to recognise a disguised voice sometimes by the grammar and syntax.
Now the question was –where had she heard this turn of phrase before?
Augusta couldn't do a net search, which would have been her first (almost unconscious) reaction, as there was no link available- so she trawled all her temporary files in her implants- and found a match for `more few' in a personal e-mail more than a year old.
Oh, him, she thought. Of course.
“Now what’s happening? Oops, here we go,” Selinn was moving, lurching forwards, propelled by the suit of tiny robot modules. Then, so were Augusta, and the red-faced maitre Alix, who began to
bellow once more-
“This treatment is an affront to the Clan Varillista. Whoever is responsible will regret the day they insulted us, you cowards! Declare yourself!”
‘WE REPRESENT CONCERNED MEMBERS, OF ALL THE CLANS.
WHEREBY THE FACT, THAT THE SITUATION THE DESERT ELECTORATE CURRENTLY FINDS ITSELF IN IS COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE; BELIEVE US WHEN WE SAY WE ARE SORRY FOR THOSE THINGS WE ARE ABOUT TO DO, BUT THERE IS NO OTHER ALTERNATIVE.’
My backup- it’s true- she thought. No-one else she had ever met talked in such a twisted, distorted fashion.
But now all the guests, service personnel and the friends and family of the Elector-elect were being herded into a stonebuilt hall, out of the sun. Gether and Jak were also there, coated in grey to the neck. Gether was distraught, and Jak seemed unwilling or unable to give her any comfort.
‘YOU CAN NOW MOVE FREELY.
THE DUST WILL ACT ONLY TO PREVENT THE FACT OF YOUR ESCAPE.
SO DO NOT ATTEMPT TO LEAVE THIS ROOM.’
Everyone flopped forward, as the tiny grey robot dust released them. Some few of the Eligibles and the tall Varillista warrior women tugged and scratched at the grey fabric that covered them up to their necks, but it refused to be removed. The dust spoke again, vibrating against everyone’s skin.
‘WE CALL UPON GETHER VARILLISTA AND JAKERRAK VARILLISTA TO COME WITH US TO THE PIT OF RAVNAR.
IT IS DESIRABLE FOR THE WORLD TO WITNESS THIS ACTION, SO THOSE WITH NARROWCAST LINKS MUST ACCOMPANY US.’
Augusta and Selinn had just been stretching their legs and getting used to the freedom to move, when the grey modubot overgarments they unwillingly wore stiffened up once again, and gently began to usher them both out of the hall into the hot afternoon desert. Erek the robot was stiffly accompanying them, and the three joined up with Jak and Gether Varillista and a few top aides (including the maitre Alix, who Augusta recalled was chairman of the Ordinary committee) who together represented the highest level of the tribal system present at the Clave.
Just before the small group of prisoners left the hall, the collective voice of the grey dust spoke again.
This time the message was addressed to those left behind: 'SOON OUR BUSINESS HERE WILL BE COMPLETE, AND THE REST OF YOU, WILL BE FREE TO LEAVE.'
Selinn called over to Augusta as they marched into the bright, baking desert, “The pit of what-did-they-say? I can’t get any info on any of my resources- they must have got all tangled up when I lost net access.”
Losing the net was a bit like going deaf; so much contact between people relied upon net contact that sound communication (good old ‘talking’) was the exception rather than the rule, except when face to face. However netloss happened fairly often on the surface of the Ring habitats in the Arkab Necklace, particularly in remote areas. Binah, the distant archailect of the Mutual Progress Alliance was sometimes a generous god, but E did not like to let Er subjects get too soft and dependent.
“I think I have got some data available off line- Selinn, can you hear me? I said I think I can find out about this Pit of Ragnarok or whatever- “ she was nearly shouting, due to her nervousness and the distance between them as they were marched along.
“Please, this is a terrible thing, Ms Gienah.” The voice of the maitre Alix came from behind them. ”Do not name the pit of Ravnar so lightly. In all likelihood, someone is about to die.”
“What do you mean?” Selinn was shocked, but was carried forward with the other by the grey tide.
‘It is the ancient Elsirac punishment for traitors, Selinn,’ said Erek quietly, as the robot loped helplessly along in front, his head array turned 180* backwards to face them.
‘Those high born clanistas who offend the electorate were given one last chance to back themselves up, and the copy was given an incarnate biological body.’
Max was being carried along like a piece of frozen coral, motionless; the grey dust trapped him completely except for two thin eyebearing stalks. His muffled voice came from beneath the restrictive covering, and continued the story:
“When the new body was fully-grown, usually after three days, both original and copy were taken to the pit of Ragnar. The original was then executed by being thrown into this pit.”
“It is a barbaric practice we inherited from our ancestral colony in the inner sphere…” said Alix, in a bitter tone. ”The world of Peta Dromanis was a desert world, full of conflict we brought from old Earth. From old Earth we brought the story of the Pit of Ragnar as well.”
After they had been force marched for a few minutes in the hot desert, the luminaire began to fade towards twilight. An animated drinking tube periodically wormed into the mouths of the captives, allowing them to quench their thirst. Now, in the gathering gloom, they all faced a small structure like a well, perhaps five metres across, bounded by a low wall. Behind the well rose the walls of the dry valley and the tall wind carved butte at the far end.
‘WE MUST NOW CARRY OUT OUR SENTENCE ON JAKKAREK VARILLISTA.
FOR THE FACT OF CRIMES, AGAINST THE CLANS OF ELSIRAC, AND COLLABORATION WITH THE ENEMIES OF HUMANITY,
THOSE WHO WOULD CHANGE US, INTO DIAMOND AND RUBY ABOMINATIONS.
THOSE WHO WOULD FORCE HUMANITY INTO TRANSENDENCE WITH THEIR FILTHY VIRUS.’
Then a short conversation between the Varillista accused and his woman/father Gether, who was crying and shaking her head… a buzzing but inaudible reply from the dust, addressed to Gether only, who was allowed to retire to the back of the crowd.
‘ON BEHALF OF THE ORDINARY TRIBESPEOPLE OF ELSIRAC RING, WE SENTENCE YOU TO PERSONAL DEATH.’
“Liars! You have no brief to speak for the Ordinary faction!” cried the maitre Alix.
“By Binah! You are the liar, sir! Heed my words, the Ordinary traitors are at the seat of this.” shouted Solimenn, the Extraordinary deputy speaker.
Jak spoke up now. He addressed the grey film of dust creeping over the lip of the well in his idiosyncratic speech.
”The Varillista clan, subdued will not be. by treachery. You can do whatso you please – just pray to your god, whereby All-tribe Security find you, before my backup does.”
The disembodied voice seemed to ignore the princeling’s words;
‘THE NEWSGATHERERS AMONG YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT THEY MAY TRANSMIT ANY REPORTS THEY WISH TO MAKE, OF THESE PROCEEDINGS, BUT MAY NOT RECEIVE MESSAGES, FOR THE MOMENT.
Augusta and Selinn both swallowed hard, and stretched their necks up to see as much of the action as possible. Erek, as the NoCoZo newsrepresentative, extended this sensor array as high as it would go, and looked like a fat human with a primitive radio aerial where his head should have been.
‘IT IS INSTRUCTIVE TO LEARN, THAT THE POWER IN CHARGE OF OUR GREAT RING DESERT IS AWARE OF THE FACT OF THE SITUATION PERTAINING HERE.
E HAS DECIDED TO TAKE NO ACTION.
AS IT IS A POLITICAL MATTER FOR THE CLANS TO DETERMINE.’
“Make no mistake, we will determine this matter,” said Alix.
‘Jakerrak-“ said Gether, from the back, unable to move.
The priceling Jak found himself moved forward, and lifted by a great concentration of the tiny grey robots, working together to propel him out over the well. Lit from directly above by the fading luminaire, the very bottom of the well could be seen only five metres below.
Something moved there, like slow liquid.
‘RETURN TO THE FORMLESS CHAOS, TRAITOR TO HUMANKIND. YOUR GODS BELOVED
HAVE DECIDED NOT TO SAVE YOU.’
The grey wave broke in mid-air, and Jak tumbled into the well. He yelled once in surprise, and at the bottom of the well again, in pain.
For a day or two previously, the tiny grey robots must have searched the desert, and located and brought back examples of the most dangerous animal on this Ring habitat. This creature, known sometimes as the brown snake or fierce snake, had been at some point reconstructed by imaginative MPA geneticists, but the result was accidentally far more venomous than the original (still living far away on old Earth); more tolerant of heat and drought, and just as aggressive.
Despite that, the victim was bitten only once.
By the snake he landed on, which was too shocked to flee (like the others).
Somehow, this vain and foolish tribal prince found the strength to die with a certain amount of dignity, as the night descended. Most of the enforced spectators were led away by their dusty captors, leaving the ragtag media pack of Erek, Max and the two women to ensure that the whole ring and perhaps the rest of the Necklace witnessed the execution.
Selinn and Augusta found that the dust had become flexible, and would allow them to move, and stretch their legs; but any attempt to move away from the snake-pit caused the suit to go rigid again.
The robot remained frozen, although Max had freed several tentacles (to no avail).
Well, if I can’t get away from here, perhaps I can go closer, Augusta thought to herself, and lowered herself over the edge. If the goddam snakes bit her, so be it. They seemed to be more interested in getting away.
“Jak- it’s Augusta. Your grandfather must – he can only be proud of you.”
The slightest sound came in acknowledgement.
“The dust has told us that the media link is working in the outwards direction. Your grandfather - and the whole world - knows what they have done to you. He will have alerted the Electorate. Whoever has done this must be keeping your All-tribe Security people away by force- but they can’t stand against the whole Ring with a few microbots. It will all be finished soon.”
“My copy-“ said the figure, facing into the dust.
“Yes, your copy, Jak- he will see justice is done. If - you don’t – don’t make it.”
“No good- to me-“ the paralysing poison was stopping the princeling from breathing. If nothing happens soon, this version of Jak Varillista would be beyond help.
“Jak- please- do you know who has done this to you? Is it someone- someone you know?”
She did not see or hear any answer.
A series of flashes, followed by rapid explosions of some sort, signalled the arrival of the human-level Security forces. Gritty rain fell in showers, and rattling blue stones hit every surface- suddenly the grey straitjackets were gone from their bodies. Augusta crouched by the low wall of the pit, as grey eruptions of dust fought blue grit in mid-air and along the ground.
The blue goo defences of Elsirac were also of human (rather than posthuman) manufacture, with the traditional blue colouration of all such devices.
The moravec robot Erek however scrambled down into the pit, followed by Max, and found the blue gritty security bots had already turned Jak’s body over, and were vainly attempting resuscitation.
---------------------------------------
This event had a number of interesting consequences, I believe, but we had better examine the situation to see if any new data can be gained from this individual’s recollections. Obviously the human-level attack was a clumsy trick to discredit the Ordinary faction. Why did the ring controller not intervene?
The Elector-elect, Xackerak Varillista, asked for permission to deal with this apparent terrorist attack using his own All-tribe security force. He utilised the blue goo modubots the Elsirac Tribes had developed during the hundreds of years of Ordinary faction rule. Unfortunately it seems to have taken twenty minutes to prepare these bluebots and deliver them to the target area. During this time Jakerrak Varillista suffered irreparable nerve damage, due to the snake bite and a tailored drug introduced via the meal. Suspicion fell on the Maitre Alixander N’boto. Following this event, the Ordinary faction was thoroughly discredited, although N’boto was acquitted at his trial
But the intrigue was deeper than that, was it not, librarian? Five years later the Keterists arrived, invited by the reconstituted Jakerrak copy himself. They did not stay long, as I recollect.
Correct. The Varillistas prepared an extensive salt water lagoon for the Fluke and her dolphin and mermen attendants, but before the Ascension Crusade could get under way, malicious chemocracker data-bearing proteins were discovered in the local fish- causing one or more of the mermen to develop psychotic symptoms. The Fluke herself also consumed some of this material before her internal defences detected it, although with no apparent ill effects. However the Crusade retreated from Elsirac and has no plans to
return.
And this caused yet another political upheaval?
During the investigation it was discovered that the Jakerrak copy was already in existence before the murder of his original, and this led commentators to believe that the Varillistas had prior knowledge about the attack on the Deep clave.
Now, then, that is interesting.
Consider this- Augusta Gienah recognised the speech patterns and syntax of the Grey dust robot modules as being similar or identical to those of Jakerrak himself- so it seems the Deep Clave attack was ordered and controlled by his own copy, which was already in existence.
So it seems.
The Copy Jakerrak then invites the Crusaders to Elsirac Ring, where they are subjected to yet another data attack. It certainly seems to point to the conclusion that the whole affair was arranged to snare the Fluke once again.
The data-bearing material was of a high tech design, far beyond the abilities and technological level of the Tribespeople of Elsirac.
It is increasingly obvious that the entity or entities behind these subversions is, or are of a high transapient nature. One thing concerns me, however; many of the bystanders at this- execution- would have been able to recognise the influence of Jak Varillista’s copy in the speech patterns of these semi-sentient modular robots; it is unlikely that many people in the tribal council were fooled. If we postulate the involvement of a transapient mind in the planning of this operation then that effect will also have been anticipated. This looks like a fairly elementary transapient triple-cross manoeuvre; operating on a level far above the local human politics - to an ultimate, but as yet undetermined, goal.
I thank you for you expert opinion; our own investigation at the time reached a similar conclusion. In fact, you may be interested in this piece of information I have in my records.
The Librarian’s avatar, a tall, severe, plain woman, moved toward a series of bookcases which had suddenly appeared in their virtual environment, and took out a single volume. She read aloud:
“Analysis of data traffic, Day 122, 9742 a.t. Major increase in encrypted data flow between Elsirac Ring and Rendell ring; reason unknown; unable to determine exact origin or destination of traffic or any suggestion of content.”
Once again we find Rendell ring at the bottom of the mystery. It occurs to me --
**Aha! At last! The Librarian slammed the book shut, and it vanished, together with the vast array of virtual bookshelves.
Excuse me, but we seem to have found the brushbot, Max Handy. Perhaps we should relocate the focus of our attention and appear in person; he is being held in the Custom Hall in ArGartha, on Rendell.
I am right there with you, Librarian
