Tony Daniel (56 page)

“Are you that good?”

“My services brought about the immediate surrender of Uranus,” C replied. “False modesty would serve no purpose here, and, in any case, pride is not a vice to which I am susceptible. When you are considering operations against me, you should use curiosity as a lure. I am an extremely curious man.” Another drag. “In any case, I can do no more at the moment than to beg that you do as I request.”

“You could tell us what Amés knows about Nirvana,” said Leo. “And when, and if, he plans an attack.”

“That I will not do,” said C. “And I am afraid that you would be unable to force it out of me. In fact, you might endanger yourself by doing so, if you could. It is essential that the Director does not find out yet that I am a turncoat, and if you began using intelligence information that only I am privy to, he would realize this immediately.” Another drag. “Amés is an intelligent man, and extremely tenacious. He has enormous resources available to him, as well.”

“So, I am to take this . . . copy . . . to my father. Is that what you want?”

“You are, by far, the best choice for a messenger,” said C. “And, as an incidental bonus, this might serve to heal the rift between you two.”

“How the
hell
do you know about that?” said Leo.

C did not reply. He only smiled benignly. Leo looked for something sinister in his face, but found nothing. Of course, that didn’t mean it wasn’t in his soul.

“And you expect us just to let you go? If you are so important, then killing you or keeping you hostage would seem to be in our best interest.”

“Oh, no,” said C. “I won’t be going anywhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t possibly return and report to Amés. He would know immediately what I had been up to.”

“Then . . . what?”

“Don’t you see?” said the man. “You will have to kill me.”

“But . . .”

“Don’t worry. Amés has a backup copy.” C again meticulously extinguished and destroyed his cigarette. “May I have another?”

Leo distractedly indicated that Jill give him one. Leo stared at the oil lamp. Was it a godsend or a trap? There was no way to tell without analyzing it. C seemed to read his thoughts.

“It will only work for Roger Sherman,” C said. “It is rather strongly encrypted, and I believe that not even your best hackers would stand a chance. They may try, of course. I have allowed for that possibility, and doing so will not kill them.”

“You seem to have thought of everything.”

“Let us hope that I have.”

“And how is my father supposed to activate it?”

C smiled. “How do you suppose?”

“Rub it three times and make a wish?”

“Just rubbing it will do the trick.”

Leo looked carefully at the man. He realized that C was not so nondescript after all. His eyes were an amazing color of green.

“So what do you want? Firing squad?”

C sighed, smoked, sighed again. “Anything will do,” he said. “Will you deliver the copy?”

“I could let you be killed and not tell you,” Leo said.

“I do not need closure,” C replied. “I have died before. Besides, I have read all of your work and formed something of an opinion of your character. I don’t believe you would do such a thing, unless it served a higher purpose. You are not a cruel man.”

“I suppose not.”

“If it will make it any easier, I will do the killing part myself. But I would like a weapon of some sort. I can do it bare-handed, but the process is messy and painful.”

Leo stared at him. C calmly smoked his cigarette down again.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“There is nothing
to
say,” C replied. “After I am gone, you should put my body into the transport ship and set it adrift. Do not send a message to Amés or anything of the sort; it will only needlessly call attention to yourselves. I have already compromised Nirvana to some extent, obviously, but this was necessary. Let it go no further.”

C smoked. Leo watched him. The cigarette was soon done. “Well then,” said C.

“All right,” said Leo. “Let’s go back to the docking port.”

They walked quietly back through the woods. When they got near to the portal, C said to Jill, “I would rather the child not see this. She will see plenty enough, soon enough.”

“You are right,” Jill replied. Leo thought he might have heard a catch in her voice. “But Leo should stay with her.”

C stopped walking. “Yes, that would be better.” He turned to Leo. “Will you make the delivery?”

Leo smiled. “Let’s have a smoke.”

“Do you smoke?”

“I used to,” Leo said. “Back when I was a juvenile delinquent.”

The two men stood and smoked.

“It would be worth taking that thing to the ends of the universe,” Leo said, “just to see the look on Dad’s face when I deliver it.”

“Thank you,” said C.

“Who are you really?” Leo ask. “Where do you come from?”

“My name is Clare,” the man said. “Clare Runic. I’m just an average joe from Earth, same as you.”

They finished smoking. Leo stayed with Aubry, while C and Jill went farther up along the path. The last Leo saw of the man, he was rounding a bend. C did not look back. He disappeared in the trees. A few minutes later, a single shot rang out.

from

First Constitutional Congress of

the Cloudships of the Outer System

April 2, 3013 (e-standard)

a transcript

C. Tolstoy: Mr. Chairman . . . I don’t know what to say. I came here today expecting to witness another gathering of idiots and knaves. I’m afraid I don’t have such a high opinion of the lot of you as old Tacitus. I have seen a lot of history myself, and the one lesson that it has taught me is the futility of what we do. I have moved farther out the Road than most of you, and believe me, it wasn’t to explore. If you want to know the truth, and even if you don’t, it was to get away from the lot of you. And not just you—
everybody
. But I have to say I have never seen a more arrogant, gullible bunch than you are. Honorable Cloudships? We’re all floating coffins in space. Now some of you may know that I and my family tend the graveyard, so I know whereof I speak. We stay out of your way, and you stay out of mine—until the time comes when
your
business becomes
my
business. But I have a feeling that the times are changing, and you and I are going to be bumping into one another more often. Now, I’m not talking about dying. All of you think you won’t, and all of you will. No, I have another meaning. I do believe that it is time for me and my boys to come in out of the sticks for a while. I have listened to what has been said, and I’ll tell you. I think the time has passed for doing a damn thing, and the fate is upon you. That’s right, you heard me! Old Tolstoy and his sons are joining up. You want a navy, Lebedev? Well, here are your first recruits. We’re on our way right now. I sure as hell hope you’re ready for the thirteen of us.

C. Lebedev: I would be . . . will be honored.

C. Mencken: Now, just a minute. Nobody said anything about starting up the navy just yet—or ever. Are you done, Cloudship Tolstoy?

C. Tolstoy: I’m through with whatever I had to say.

C. Mencken: All right then, who is—

C. Markham: Lebedev, I’m with you. Tell me where to report.

C. Kafka: And me, too, Lebedev. I hope I don’t regret this, but here I am.

C. Bernhardt: Do you need entertainers?

C. Lebedev: I don’t know . . . I hadn’t given the matter—

C. Mencken: Now that is really enough. This is not a goddamn rally or recruitment center. I am afraid that if anyone else volunteers for the navy, I am going to have to erase you from these proceedings and you won’t be allowed to vote on whether we have a navy or not! Now where the friggin’ heck did I put that gavel? All right. The resolution, ladies and gentlemen, the resolution. And we’re only talking about the preamble at that. Now, I’ve quite lost the order . . . who is next . . . Cloudship Lao Tse? No, it is Cloudship Lorca. Yes—

Chamber Sergeant: Mr. Chairman!

C. Mencken: Yes? What is it, Sergeant Mann?

Chamber Sergeant: A messenger, sir. An emergency messenger has just reported in to the foyer secretary. It seems she came in person because the merci was jammed.

C. Mencken: Came in person? It isn’t a ship?

Chamber Sergeant: No, Mr. Chairman. It is a Major Antinomian, sir. She hails from Jupiter. Claims it is a matter of the greatest urgency for the entire Council.

C. Mencken: Jupiter? What? Urgency . . . very well. What a taxing day this is turning out to be, and we haven’t even passed any taxes yet. Nobody think that was funny? Ah hell, show her in, Sergeant.

Major Antinomian: Major Clarabelle Antinomian of the First Army of Europa, sir.

C. Mencken: Welcome to this chamber, Major. What can we do for you today?

Major Antinomian: I have an urgent message from General Changer on Europa, sir. For delivery to the entire Council of Cloudships.

C. Mencken: Well, here we are. Deliver it.

Major Antinomian: Half the army is taken prisoner, sir. One million soldiers.

C. Mencken: What’s that you say?

Major Antinomian: Half the army is taken, and Ganymede as fallen!

C woke with a start, somewhere in the recesses of La Mola. It only took him a moment to realize what must have happened.

Amés was standing over him.

“Oh, dear,” said C. He sat up. It was the same body as before, a cloned copy.

“I am afraid that you badly underestimated the partisans,” Amés said.

“Yes. Obviously.”

“I am going to have to punish you for that,” said Amés. “No more visits to the memory box for a while.”

“I understand,” C replied. “Do you know what happened?”

“You were murdered. Execution style.”

“Oh.”

“I want you to pay special attention to the partisan terrorists,” said Amés. “I want their threat eliminated. Now we both have reason for it.”

“I agree.”

Amés helped C to his feet. C was a little shaky for a moment, but quickly had control over his new body. In a strange way, he felt refreshed.

“Come on,” said Amés. “You have work to do.”

Roger Sherman was tired, but awake. He had been tracking the
Montserrat
for hours now, using the most slapdash, jury-rigged remote sensing apparatus any commander had ever employed in space—of that, he was sure. The merci was out, which prevented a great many methods of detection, but it also provided the clue he needed to find his quarry. For the range of the jamming had proved very specific. It was broad in places, but ceased in others. They had even managed to listen in on some vinculum broadcast and get some Met news when they’d gotten outside the jamming area. Sherman had also immediately contacted Tacitus, and learned that he was in the midst of a constitutional congress. He had signed off quickly and promised to let Sherman know how it all came out. Sherman wanted to limit how much was broadcast by his troops over the merci, so he had severely limited his time with Tacitus, as well. Contact with army troops at Jupiter, and Sherman’s immediate superiors, had been impossible.

But they had slowly, methodically mapped out the effectiveness area of the jamming, and had found that it was shaped rather like a dumbbell, with a big globe at each end, and a narrower shaft down the middle. And at the moment, Sherman and the
Boomerang
were groping down that shaft. He wasn’t sure, but it was a good bet that the jamming device—which might be on the
Montserrat
herself—was at the epicenter. In any case, he wasn’t taking any chances. The troops in the hold were on full alert, ready for instant deployment. And Sherman was using every stealth measure he could remember from his study of warships and space battles.

There wasn’t a lot to go on. Mostly war games and practice maneuvers. There had never been a major battle in space, after all, not in the over a thousand years humans had been outside Earth’s gravity well. With the
Boomerang
’s isotropic coating, they were effectively masked from electromagnetic means of detection. Well, of course, the drive could not be so masked, but unless the
Montserrat
were sneaking up behind him—a possibility that he was fully taking into account—no one would see his ship. What he was more worried about were the grist-detection pockets. Any competent commander would have strewn them all about his position, setting up, in effect, a series of three-dimensional membranes to which only he would have the map. There was really no effective way to avoid these, but Sherman was taking the gamble that the jamming would jam those defenses, as well, and he was staying within the “bar” of the dumbbell partly for this reason.

He suspected that the jamming would taper to a point at the ship or jamming device location. He seriously doubted that they would allow their own communications to be compromised in such a way. But the technology was new to him, and he had no idea how it actually worked. And nearly fifteen hundred lives depended on his guessing correctly.

They moved onward through the void, nearly a million kilometers from Neptune, Pluto-ward. The
Boomerang
would top out at one-one-hundredth the speed of light, but he was going nowhere near that fast. In the first place, such speeds required millions of kilometers of run-up. But the object here was to be as sneaky as a fox, not as fast as a jaguar.

Working with his free-convert officers, Sherman had devised a gravimetric detection system that just might work. Light would pass through the DIED ship, but it would be slightly bent by the ship’s mass in the process. The bending was extremely small, but it
was
present. Using grist astrolabes that were specially modified by a team of engineers on Titan led by Gerardo Funk, Sherman was attempting to use the light of the stars and planets to “see” the enemy ship. Funk had seemed confident, but such a thing had never been done before—had never been attempted. It was thought that the gravitational lensing effect was so infinitesimal as to be utterly impractical. It could be that they were right. The Third Sky and Light would know soon enough.