The Red Queen (35 page)

Nor did I think that God would regard the taking of the contents of the healing cabinet and a few blankets as theft. Being a machine, it would not be possessive of things in the way that humans are; it had accepted me as a User and it had been wonderfully helpful in answering our needs since we had escaped from Habitat. I resolved to ask it to outfit us for the journey ahead and felt sure it would do so without demur. What worried me was what to do about Tash.

This thought prompted me to return to the main chamber, and only then did I notice the awkward way the androne was standing and realise it was too tall for the hall. It must have been hunched in that uncomfortable way the whole time we had been in the bathing chamber. I felt faintly ashamed and then chided myself for being a fool. A machine could not experience discomfort. Even so, I bade it go back ahead of us to the main chamber where it could stand up to its full height. As we followed, I thought it odd that the Beforetimers had not designed a mechanical man that emulated their stature, so that it could move easily about their dwellings. But perhaps andrones had not been intended to enter human living spaces.

‘How long are we staying here?’ Dragon asked.

‘Long enough for the others to wake and recover from whatever the Committee did to them,’ I said, thinking I also wanted to search the apartment to see if Hannah had left any message for me. But perhaps anything left behind had been cleared away, given that the whole residence was strangely lacking in life clutter. The thought that a message from Hannah might have been destroyed made my heart sink, but then I realised the Beforetime woman would never be such a fool as to have left me a message that could be so easily lost.

‘Can we go and find Dameon and the others now?’ Dragon asked, as we re-entered the main chamber.

‘You had better stay here with Tash and rest,’ I decided. ‘I will go with the androne to make sure the others are safe. You might sort out bedding for all of us.’

‘We will come with you,’ Dragon said, giving me the stubborn look I knew all too well.

‘God said that Swallow and the others are on the lowest level of the Galon Institute, which means using the elevating chamber,’ I said.

‘I can’t . . .’ Tash said in a thin voice. ‘I will stay here alone.’

‘You will both stay here,’ I said firmly.

Dragon bit her lip, glanced at her friend and then nodded.

‘I won’t be long. I only want to have a quick look at them. You should make up beds for them as well. They might need a few days’ rest before we can leave. Lay the bedding out here if there is not room in the sleeping chambers.’

‘There are a lot of sleeping chambers along there,’ Tash said, pointing to another door.

‘What about food?’ Dragon asked.

‘There is no food in the cupboards or on the shelves,’ Tash said. ‘I looked.

I frowned. I had no idea where we could get food, save from Habitat. Obviously the andrones did not need to eat, but perhaps one could be sent to acquire something for us from Habitat. It would take time, for they would have to make their way to Habitat at night when the Speci slept, and I had lost track of time, though it seemed to me that it must be very late, so it might happen immediately.

All at once, I remembered Dell telling me the Beforetimers had produced food in forms that would keep for long periods, perhaps forever.

‘God?’ I said, raising my voice.

‘I am listening, User Seeker.’ The smooth feminine voice seemed, like the light, to flow from all around us.

‘Is there any food in Midland that humans can eat, that is still safe and nourishing?’

‘There are various powdered and concentrated foods in storage silos which can be reconstituted with the addition of water and heat,’ God said. ‘There are also dried spices and herbs, but in the long term any diet will need to be supplemented by fresh fruit, nuts and vegetables and by various grains and legumes. The hydro gardens can be re-activated to provide fresh produce but this will take a minimum of a month.’

‘Maybe we can get some fresh food from Habitat,’ Dragon said. ‘Is that possible, God?’

‘Yes Technician Dragon,’ God said. ‘Do you require supplies brought from storage, User Seeker?’

Clearly God would listen to the others, but it seemed it would only take orders from me. I thought about this then I said, ‘God, I want you to take orders and answer questions from Technician Dragon and Speci Tash, as if they were from me. Can you do that?’

‘I am programmed to respond and to communicate with any human who speaks to me using the name God, User Seeker, and those who possess authorisation may command me as long as the commands given do not infringe upon my basic programming. I can obey your technicians, if you require.’

‘I do require it,’ I said firmly, then I turned to Dragon and Tash, who here both regarding me with wide-eyed awe. ‘Prepare beds and see if you can locate anything useful,’ I told them. ‘I will return after I have seen the others and we can send the androne to get the food.’ Without further ado, I turned and bade the androne take me to the cryosleep laboratory where my other three technicians were sleeping.

‘Be careful,’ Dragon called, following me to the door of the residence. I bade her get some rest, and promised again to return as soon as ever I could.

Walking back to the Galon Institute, I thought of the look Dragon and Tash had given me with the itch of discomfort I always felt when I found myself regarded with reverence. It seemed to offer homage to something that did not exist, a perfect and noble Elspeth capable of things other people could not do. My
quest
was important, but I was merely the person whom the Agyllians believed might be able to do what needed doing. I was no more nor less vital than Hannah or Cassy or Atthis. We all had our parts to play in what must be done. Certainly I did not feel worthy of reverence.

A small inner voice that sounded a good deal like Maruman’s jeered that my dislike of reverence was no more than cowardice, and I had to admit there had always been a good dollop of fear in my dislike of being regarded as a saviour heroine. It was not fear of what had to be done, but fear of proving inadequate, of failing and dooming all living things to extinction; fear that I would not measure up to the task appointed to me.

Of course, until a short while ago, Tash had believed God was a Lud and the only person ever to have spoken to it was the mysterious long-dead Naha, and here was I not only speaking to it but giving it orders. It made sense that she would feel awe, but I did not understand why Dragon would look at me that way.

Perhaps it was simply that I was going deeper into the vast dark city alone, yet I had taken the androne and Dragon herself would have gone with me, had I allowed it. Maybe I was misreading her expression and it was not reverence but the realisation that a day would come when she, too, must give orders rather than follow them.

I swept the muddle of doubt from my mind and turned my thoughts to Miryum, wondering if it was possible that she was located anywhere near where the others had been put to await their wakening. I would ask God, through the androne, after I had seen the others, though I would have to think how to describe the coercer so that God would know who I meant. There was no telling how many people remained alive and asleep in cryopods here and maybe in the other settlements of Pellmar Quadrants as well.

Finding Miryum would only solve part of the problem she represented; I would then have to convince God to wake her. It would be hard enough if it regarded her as a sick Speci, and worse, if it had decided she was a special anomaly. It might be that it would refuse to awaken her, either way. If I was lucky, I would find that Hannah had foreseen my need and had commanded God to wake Miryum when I asked it, but of course that depended upon whether or not the coercer had yet to fulfil whatever part she was to play in my quest.

I thought of Straaka’s words.

‘Find Miryum, Elspeth Seeker. Wake her, not only for her sake and mine, but because the oldOnes say she too has a part to play in your quest, ere the end.’

Presumably the oldOnes had not told him
why
she was important to my quest, for he had not told me what she was to do or say. Unless he had known, but lacked the time to explain it, given the brevity of our tenuous exchange in the high molten realm above the dreamtrails. Or perhaps he truly did not know and had only said what he had been told to say.

Perhaps once she woke, she would know what to tell me, or maybe she would simply relate something she had seen, without ever having any idea of the importance of it.

There was also the possibility that, finding her, my part was not to wake her, but to enter her sleeping mind and commune with her in that state. My profound foray into Rushton’s deepest mind in the Beforetime complex on Norseland had taught me that I could reach that level in another person while I was awake, but Miryum was in thrall to the dream that possessed her consciousness and so it was likely her mind would remain locked to me, unless I sought out her sleeping spirit on the high molten dreamtrails, and once again entered into her delusion with the aim of breaking the dream and bringing her to self-awareness. We would then be able to communicate clearly, whether or not she was awake.

The thought that I might have to commune with her while she lay in unbreakable sleep, and leave her in that state when I left, was chilling, and I vowed to myself that, if nothing else, I would encourage her to fight the cryopod and wake, for then at least she would be shifted to Habitat. Yet it was almost impossible for me to imagine the stolid, idealistic coercer among the Speci, and the thought of that was almost more difficult to accept than that I would leave her in Midland, lost in sleep. Both seemed betrayals.

Also, I was worried about her reaction to Straaka’s disappearance, and what that might mean.

I prayed that all my apprehensions were baseless and that the coercer would be easily and swiftly found and that God would be persuaded to wake her and that, wakened, she would immediately tell me something I needed to know to end the threat posed by Sentinel. Then she and Ahmedri would go to find Straaka’s bones and take them to Sador for a proper tribesman’s burial. This might take some considerable time given how much longer she had been in a cryopod than the rest of us. Nor did it take any account of her illness. If by bleak chance she had taint sickness – and how could she not? – having crossed the virulent Blacklands unprotected, then her illness was incurable.

That meant I would be waking her to die.

Straaka had told me Miryum said she preferred dying to endless sleep but maybe she had said that only because she wanted to free his spirit and had seen no other way to effect that, save by dying herself. If I woke her and she was able to release Straaka’s spirit without dying, always assuming it was not already free, would Miryum truly prefer to die? In her position I wondered if I would choose death, but even if she truly did want it, she might not have that choice if we had not worked out what she was supposed to be to my quest before we left Midland. If she was ill and dying, to take her with us would condemn her to a cruel death, and yet I could not care about that, given what was at stake.

I was glad to see that we had reached the end of the soaring bridge, the androne’s headlight illuminating the shining facade of the Galon Institute just ahead, for it released me from the torturous machinations of my mind. Perversely I immediately became aware of my body: that it was tired and hungry, my feet sore, the heels rubbed raw by the loose Speci sandals. It was no comfort that it would heal itself. In fact, it was probably doing that now, thereby increasing my fatigue.

The doors opened smoothly at our approach and I followed the androne across the shining floor to the enormous elevating-chamber doors beyond the ring of pillars. The doors opened smoothly, as before, and as we descended, I suddenly remembered how Ines had spoken to me inside the elevating chamber at Oldhaven.

I asked, ‘Do you hear me, God?’

‘Yes, User Seeker,’ God said, her voice coming from the elevating chamber. ‘There is a link between the mainframe and this elevator computer. Also, I am monitoring the androne’s feed.’

Feed?
I thought, but I asked, ‘God, what is the message that User Hannah left for me? Can you tell it to me?

‘A portion of the message can be conveyed verbally,’ God said. ‘User Hannah instructed that I inform User Seeker that the artefact known as Cassandra’s key is in Northport, secreted in the marker of the joint grave of Jacob and Hannah. You will be given all possible assistance to reach the grave, and then helped to make all necessary preparations for the fulfilment of your mission to prevent a Class A Cataclysm event.’

I nodded. The message was pretty much what I had discovered for myself, save for the fact that the key was not in the grave but in the marker. I was glad we would not need to open up the grave. The only thing that struck a queer note was that if Hannah had spoken to God about me finding her grave in Northport, she must have foreseen her own death. Unless it was simply that she had already instructed God to bury her with Jacob. Yet how could that have been managed if neither of the andrones had been able to convey her body there and bury her? For some reason that made me think again of the body the others had found in Hannah’s grave in Habitat. A woman’s body. Was it connected to the mysterious words inscribed on the grave marker? Certainly it was not possible that Hannah had a child in Habitat, for she would have been far too old to do so, even being a more fertile Beforetimer.

The elevating chamber stopped and its doors opened to reveal a hall that looked exactly the same as the one leading to Kelver Rhonin’s chambers. On the verge of stepping out, I hesitated, remembering when I had become lost at Oldhaven because I had left an elevating chamber on the wrong level. ‘Androne, are my technicians on this level?’

‘This is the lowest level of the Galon Institute, and the location of the sleep laboratory,’ the androne affirmed. ‘The three technicians prepared for cryosleep by the Speci Committee in Habitat are in the recovery room.’

Heart beginning to race, I bade it take me to them, and it set off obediently along the corridor to the right, its headlight cutting through the darkness but revealing nothing other than an occasional door. The walls were blank and I was suddenly struck by the thought that these, like the surfaces in Kelver Rhonin’s chambers, might have the capacity to show visions and colours, if one knew how to work the mechanisms that controlled such things. Perhaps all of the bland and featureless walls I had seen in all the Beforetime buildings I had entered had this capacity. It was a pity I could not tell Dell.

But there were more important things to worry about than walls.

The passage ended in a door, which opened as we drew close. Following the androne through it, I found myself in a dome-shaped chamber with curved metal walls. It was like being under an overturned metal bowl that reflected the androne’s headlight blindingly. Squinting against the ubiquitous radiance, I saw the three forms of my friends stretched out palely on low white beds in the centre of the chamber.

The nearest was Dameon. He lay on his back, naked save for a swaddling of white cloth about his loins, and so still that he might have been dead. Moving to him, hardly able to breathe for apprehension, I laid a hand on his chest. His skin felt cold and a sick feeling of horror flowed through me as I felt for his heartbeat and then for his pulse, finding none.

‘He is dead . . .’ I said in a voice that shook.

‘All of the technicians are alive and recovering, User Seeker,’ God said, its voice coming smoothly and evenly from all sides. ‘The drugs given in Habitat slow the heartbeat and respiration in preparation for cryosleep. It will not wear off for another twenty hours. After this the body will regain normal temperature, and heartbeat and pulse will be discernible.’

I had to blink back a rush of tears and, feeling suddenly weak with relief, I slipped to my knees beside Dameon. Taking in the surprisingly thick sweep of red-brown lashes against his cheeks, the faintly sad droop of his mouth, I felt a potent welling of love and pity for my dearest friend, that he should be so utterly vulnerable. On impulse, I leaned over and pressed my lips to his cheek, praying he would wake without any memory of the treacherous Balboa. He might have forgiven her for her betrayal because his nature was gentle, but he would not now have that opportunity for he would never see her again. I was not sorry, for I did not think she had been worthy of a man like him. Yet I felt a stab of guilt at knowing that what truly mattered was not what I thought, but what Dameon felt.

I sat back on my heels, gathering my strength to get to my feet again, and noticed the way the edges of the bed curved up at the sides. It reminded me of my own waking and I wondered if I had been brought to consciousness here, too.

‘Is this a cryopod?’ I asked the androne, touching the bed.

‘It is the inactive lower portion of a cryopod,’ the androne said. ‘The upper portions are a fixed apparatus incorporating active cryopod technology and manual operation mechanisms. The upper portion joins the lower once the lower portion is in place, then locking sequences are implemented.’

‘And my friends – my technicians – are in the process of being woken?’ I asked, wanting to be assured of it yet again.

‘The three technicians will wake naturally so there is no need for any apparatus. They will be completely resurrected and conscious in approximately forty-two hours, if the process of resurrection is not interrupted or accelerated. Natural waking produces optimum revival in resurrected specimens,’ the androne said.

‘Will they be able to walk and talk normally once they wake, or will they need exercise and rest before they can move?’ I asked.

‘These specimens have not been in deepsleep nor inactive for a long period of time, therefore there will be no muscle or nerve degeneration requiring physical therapy, User Seeker,’ the androne said.

I rose and only then noticed that Dameon wore one of the same flat shiny bands that the androne had fixed around Tasha’s wrist. I went round to look down at Swallow and Ana, and saw they had the same bands.

‘God, why have my technicians been tagged?’

‘They were tagged to inhibit the cryosleep implant, which activated when they were removed from Habitat. Now that they have been redesignated technicians, the tag is no longer necessary and may be removed if required, because the implant has been deactivated.’