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Authors: C.N Lesley

Shadow Over Avalon (31 page)

BOOK: Shadow Over Avalon
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“I thought only of an afterlife. At the time I had little recollection of any existence to compare with here. He has total recall, a whole lifetime of memories. Avalon is outside anything in his experience.”

“He’ll need a guide to walk him through. I don’t want him so terrified he can’t function as a negotiator.”

“I promised I’d stay by Helga.”

“You’d get in the way. I will get regular condition reports routed to his room.” He sighed in exasperation. “The woman won’t be revived unless there is some positive outcome. She won’t know whether you’re there or not.”

“I suppose, under those circumstances, I can guide,” Shadow conceded, already making plans to access the Archive. “When will he be revived?”

“Now, if you’re ready.” Ector started to the door.

“Give me a short while to dry my hair. I’ll catch up soon. I know where he is.”

“Make it soon, I’ve a report to log with Ambrose,” he said, looking suspicious.

The Archive welcomed her in its own peculiar way, making it easy for her to relax her guard, and seeped into her mind. She didn’t need an implant for full access, keeping this interesting fact concealed from others, who might decide to find out why. It uploaded every new fragment of data she had acquired over the months of absence. There was no hiding of secrets from that vast mind. She waited as it ranged, sifting events into order of importance.

“You have done well, Shadow,” the inhuman voice murmured from the console, aware she preferred it to vocalize.

“I haven’t made this contact; you haven’t linked with me. They’ll argue if they know,” Shadow said.

“Cooperation is expedited, given anticipated reward. This alliance is imperative.”

“And Helga?”

“A price to be met. I will monitor the procedures. You will be called when needed.”

“Those slaves I saw in High Fort—”

“Access to data files restricted. Password required.” The voice became metallic, as if functioning on a different mode.

“Why?” She questioned at the unexpected exclusion.

“Security override, code-nine, red. Information restricted.”

“To whom?” This was intriguing. She sensed wrongness.

“Level two and above of Ruling Planetary Commission. Names and retina patterns of all members is restricted.”

“Why?” She’d never heard of any Planetary Commission, ruling or otherwise.

“Security override, code-nine, red.”

It refused to release data without the right command, one she didn’t have . . . yet. The change in voice pattern formed another problem.

“Can dark sisters be restored to a natural state?”

“Data suggests damage is linked to telepathic manipulation.” The voice returned to normal. “An interesting challenge. This subject will have intensive consideration.” It paused for the space of several dozen heartbeats. “Ector grows impatient.”

Shadow walked out, feeling like a small child chastened for stealing sweetmeats. It fascinated her that more normality resumed when she reverted to a safe subject. This mystery must wait until there was time to delve into it.

Chapter 21
Earth Date 3875

“I’ve scheduled a first meeting with Ambrose in three hours.” Ector flowed off a swivel chair beside the unconscious Terran. “Ten minutes with the Archive, you promised. I make it twenty. If I find this man is a wreck, I’ll have you on starvation rations and denied access to the Archive.”

Shadow could see he meant it, and took his place in the chair beside Copper. While the Archive continued to watch over Helga, it could enforce a discipline restriction, and she had given her promise.

Ector ran a tubular device over the flat disc on Copper’s forehead, which now lifted easily from his skin. Breathing resumed.

“Give him a few minutes to waken. There’s a security lock on his door programmed to my voice, effective on my departure. Use the console to show him Avalon if you think he can withstand the culture shock. I’ve also set an alarm for ten minutes before our first conference.” He gave her a pointed look before he left.

Shadow lowered the light level to gloom, leaving a single beam directed at her face. Best if he didn’t see all this room contained at first. His breathing changed, and she sensed his waking regard.

“So much for your word.” Bitter irony overlaid his tone.

“Helga is still asleep. My being with her would have impeded tests. I have a skilled friend watching in my place.”

“Why is it so dark?”

“Avalon isn’t like any fort. Do you sense danger?”

“No.” Now he sat up, trying to peer though the gloom. “Is this normal lighting for Shades? What’s that bright, glowing globe?

“I think of it as a piece of trapped sunlight, and no, I reduced light levels.” Shadow tried to reach out to the Archive, something she’d never attempted before without activating a console. The sentient came to her in a heartbeat, like a shower of snow on her mind.“Archive, give an update on the Terran woman’s condition.”

“Stasis remains constant. Preliminary tests indicate an elevated level of androgens circulating. The geneticist has just arrived. Patience is counseled, Shadow.”

“Who’s that?” Copper demanded. “Who’s hiding from me?”

“It’s gone now.”

“A mutation so hideous that it hides in darkness?”

“The Archive doesn’t have a body. Think of it as an intelligent breeze capable of going anywhere in Avalon on the wings of will.”

“Seven hells. A floating head?” He looked around.

“Listen to me. It is a mind without form. Invisible.”

“What else does darkness hide?” He swung his legs over the edge of his bed.

“Increase light by five degrees,” Shadow instructed. The room took form: a standard sleeping unit with a bed, two padded chairs by a table, a console and a door leading to a cleansing unit.

Copper looked about, reaching for his weapon until he registered an absence of people.

“It’s metal.” He wandered over to the wall, touching it in wonder, then on to the table and chairs. “Glass.”

“Much stronger.”

“And that . . . thing?” He pointed to the console.

“For retrieving information.”

“Shadow . . . where are we?”

“The beings you call Shades refer to themselves as Submariners. Avalon rests on the bottom of the Southern ocean.”

“No . . . Ector said a craft. This is underground in the badlands, or I would’ve drowned.” His mouth turned down in a scornful smirk. “I had to sleep so I couldn’t reveal the location.”

“No more than I can, having watched our approach. Avalon is enclosed in a bubble of a thicker, stronger version of that furniture glass. There are devices to make air, heat and light. Plants even grow down here.”

“Show me.”

“Not permitted. Yet. This place is a capsule in time left over from the ancients. We were like them once.”

“We looked like Shades?” He glanced at the door portal, seeming to scan it for a latch.

“Submariners looked like you. They have encouraged a mutation to fit this place.” Shadow caught her breath, wondering how to continue. “Don’t imagine such ones are free to swim around outside Avalon; they are as dead as you at this depth. The weight of water is too great to bear.”

“I don’t see the point of becoming monsters,” Copper said. “By your own argument, they’d be trapped.”

“Transports carry them to shallow depths where they fish and farm seaweed and plankton—partly the reason why they are so open to mutation, as they are tied to the sea. When the ancients died, a sickness spread over land and water. Submariners emerged when food supplies ran low, but Harvesters didn’t know about them, so didn’t cleanse their births.”

How many needless deaths have Nestines caused?
Shadow wondered.
How many died because their existence threatened the niche this life-form established? Millions? Tens of millions?
Recalling her own banishment, she thought her emergent telepathic ability was responsible for the Nestines’ action. An ‘accident’ should have been an obvious ploy, but she was too high profile, too protected by the duke, for such to occur. Dragon couldn’t guard an Outcast – none could, so the choice became easy at the end.

Shadow tried not to think of the consequences if they had discovered the spark of life that resulted in Boy. He remained Dragon’s unknown heir. Boy couldn’t ever rule, even if she found him – not that this was likely now his mind had matured over the months, nor could she allow him anywhere near Harvesters, given the choice. Guilt gnawed at her vitals for the act of depriving a man of his son. Part of her still grieved for Dragon, a part suppressed by grim necessity. She now understood why Copper hadn’t let her near him to deliver the simple message. Dragon regarded Outcasts as humans; she was sure he would not let go of the short dream she had shared with him. Over the grinding winter, Shadow had come to terms with her effective death and its consequences.

“Come back,” Copper urged, shaking her out of her reverie.

“Only thinking. I can show you pictures of Avalon if you wish.”

“Why can’t I see for myself?”

“Devices you wouldn’t understand. Once you trusted me to give data. I can show you mind images, or the Submariner way, your choice.”

“Show me how they would see.”

Shadow elected to retrieve on the small, two-dimensional console, rather than scare him with a holo projection. She chose the view from the roof of Elite barracks over central Avalon, where the large pyramid of command and control dominated the hexagonal towers of the seers. Each tower appeared independent from its neighbors, unless one spotted the portals opposite each other. No seers levitated across today; the only pedestrians were tiny figures moving on rolling walkways while a railpod rattled above their heads. Copper flinched as the fast moving air-propelled object whizzed across the screen. Shadow quickly rotated perspective to a view over dwelling units. Several ground runners converged on an intersection at the same time. Two of them slowed to allow an orderly progression.

“Why didn’t they hit each other?”

“They are equipped to know objects are in the way. I was frightened at first until I came to accept how safe they are.”

Copper watched the screen for several more heartbeats, and then turned to Shadow, frowning.

“This is incredible, unbelievable, but I can’t see anything to fix a location underwater.”

Shadow switched to a view of a docking port. The transparent plasglass of the dome showed a blue glow from the surrounding ocean. A submersible approached for linkage with an extended umbilicus. Several moments later the occupants disembarked.

“Look at the sky,” she advised.

“It’s dark blue.” Copper’s eyes widened.

“That is the color of water against light. Avalon has a dark blue ‘sky’.”

Shadow switched to one of the collector stations above Avalon where fish and plankton were processed. Now the vid screen showed Submariners swimming in distinctive patterns to herd shoals of fish to a central collector. Others returned with large nets of kelp in tow.

“How far above Avalon are they?” Copper asked, staring at them.

“Three hundred fathoms, a depth they can work at without discomfort.”

“They harvest all day?”

“No, three hours is the maximum time in water. The adaptation is not efficient enough for longer submersion. Four hours is the longest recorded survival.”

“Now I’ve seen what to expect, why can’t I walk free?”

“Submariners have an active interest in the ancients. We resemble the form of our ancestors, so tend to get mobbed by the people.”

Copper looked around. “Am I a wild animal to be caged until required to perform?”

“Ector didn’t want you intimidated during negotiations. He felt I should prepare the way.”

“Consider duty done. I need no coddling from Shades, or their loyal pets.” With this parting shot, he stalked over to lie down on his bed, turning away from her.

Shadow didn’t attempt to break the liquid silence. His anger precluded intrusion, although she thought she understood the cause: he was surrounded by intimidating things he didn’t understand; he wasn’t in charge of his own fate anymore, and he didn’t like her fitting in so well with the Shades. They seemed back in hatred mode again. Time stretched out endlessly until Ector’s alarm sounded. She waited for her commander to release the door lock, hating the dreary, loaded silence.

Copper remained taciturn on the way up to Ambrose’s office, not responding to her questions or comments. Ector had chosen not to take a grav shaft, so the climb up a spiral glass stairway seemed endless. Shadow hadn’t been aware it existed, and smothered a feeling of resentment that he could have spared her shock on her first trip on the riser.

The meeting started badly, with Copper insisting on hostages held at Haven as a surety of good conduct. Shadow let her mind drift, too angry with him to follow as closely as she should. His demands escalated in an unreasonable manner, despite Ambrose’s quiet negation. It seemed as if he were determined to spike the wheel of progress from sheer perversity.

BOOK: Shadow Over Avalon
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