Transcendence (61 page)

I am free.

I have at last cast off the shell, rough and ugly and camouflaged to keep people away. “But to release the inner beauty is to throw away who I was.”

Who I am now is free.

I drift within the sparkling corridors between stars, the light of my and my and my lives warm and energizing.

“
That’s what I did wrong last time; thank you, Pang. We need not emerge weak.”

And look here. The inner surface of the pearl—that is, the outer edge of our combined universes, maybe even the inside surface of the alien object—is a map. At last, we approach some kind of understanding of the artifact!

It is a map of our universe, all we are
.

“
And all the places we have seen.”

We need not be tossed out into our lives at random, as I was tossed back to Jiru City
.

“
That was not random, friend Miru. That was your closest concept of womb, of home.” Home. Yes, and love. You are love. Janus, where is your love?

But it is too late. I and I hadn’t noticed when she left. The now is but one pearl at a time, while the past crowds us all around like a pearlescent ocean
.

“
Find your love, Janus.”

Miru and Pang trace the map until they locate Triton, then Jiru City, then the assembly room beside arboretum A. The universes and stars and memory-bubbles wash over them—and at the same time sink within—as their bodies coalesce outside artifact space, back within their shells.

Miru and Pang stood at the center of the assembly room. A curving ultraglas wall rose beside them, wet on the other side where green things grew lush inside the arboretum’s dome, plants heavy with fruit and vegetables nearly ready to harvest. The dim light of the sun shone down on them, and the dull blue glow of Neptune; but they leaned mostly toward the full-spectrum lumnisheets ranged throughout.

“
Ah, but the shell will never again be strong enough to imprison me, Miru-san.”

“
We must return soon and conduct experiments,” Miru said, staring at a stand of sugarcane. Already he was imagining things they could learn.
Unimaginable things
, he thought.
But now that we’ve had a glimpse of the map, I dare imagine anything
.

“
We must plan our ventures judiciously,” Pang said, indicating his nudity, “or we’ll soon run out of space-suits.” They both laughed.

Janus woke on undyed cotton sheets. She blinked a number of times, trying to place herself in space and time. She felt very awake. Awake, yes, and she felt as energized as a gazelle upon seeing for the first time the Great Plains and all they promised. It would be springtime, and morning, and a clear day that let her see across the grasses and scrub brush to the horizon, and then above, far up and out, out forever to glowing nebulae and blazing suns with their retinue of life-bearing worlds. The future unfolded before her like a 3D map leading in countless directions.

But the important thing was this:
I can follow any of those routes, and no one can stop me. Especially not me
.

She laughed, and realized it was the first true laugh she had ever experienced. So she laughed again, relishing the heady feeling it gave her, how her abdominal muscles flexed and rolled, how smooth the air felt rushing into and out of her lungs; she loved the sound of her voice and for the first time appreciated the curve and stretch of her body without soon after feeling shame.

When the laughter passed, she glanced around to determine where she had landed when the artifact spat her out. Her surroundings were dark, except for the flickering lights of airborne advertisements casting window-rectangles on a wooden floor and dimly illuminating a room; this would be Earth. Fear had no bearing on her now, except as a warning:
I need to know this place is safe, but I trust Miru wouldn’t have sent me somewhere dangerous. Or maybe it was the Beningus who sent me here
.

She laughed again, softly this time.
Beningus!
But the kind, alien race seemed very real to her now—she needed a construct upon which to hang her idea of who had built the “teaching tool,” as Miru called the artifact, and the fictional alien species would suit her need.
Artifact
, she mused,
what an oversimple word. We have no term which could possibly encompass it
.

Only a second passed before she identified this place:

“
Rachel and Miguel’s apartment.”

Janus stood, feeling the smooth swish as the sheet slid along her breasts, abdomen, thighs, knees, ankles, onto the bed. She told the lights to turn on at minimum. Inspecting the apartment for changes, she padded a few steps across the scuffed hardwood floor to the stone room Miguel had built with his own hands for her, years ago. She smiled. Each rough block of light-colored stone sat atop carefully smoothed mortar bonding layer to layer in the fashion of days long antiquated. Janus sighed.
This is artistry. I hadn’t realized Miguel was an artist as well as the lion of kind men
.

A moment of past crystallized in her mind so clearly that she had to take a deep breath to assure herself today was not the day when she had broken free of Father’s domination, so long ago. But that severing hadn’t been complete until Miru and Pang—and
yes, you, too, Lonny
—helped set her free. Even Lonny; even the child imprisoned in Eyes. It boggled her how changed she felt, but didn’t frighten, not for more than a few seconds.

Janus felt weightless. Though she stood here, on Earth, bearing her full weight for the first time in half a year, she felt she could throw open a window and soar out over the city’s skyscrapers like a long-winged bird.

“
And maybe I can,” she mused. After all, here she stood, on Earth, seven light-hours from where she
. . .
existed moments ago.

She fired up her commcard, sought out the apartment server, and 3-verded Rachel. A few seconds later, Janus’ sister responded.

“
Janus, is that really you?” Rachel looked older than she had when last they spoke—as she should—but time had not ripped its ugly claws across the girl’s features.
That could just be editing, of course
, Janus told herself. This place, Earth, only revealed itself in virtual images, and those images are only edited pictures of people’s shells, nothing more. This woman virtually standing before Janus was, in actuality, invisible; opaque.

“
Of course it’s me!”

“
But
. . .
you’re naked.”

Janus looked down the length of her body to the bare toes wiggling on battered, worn hardwood. “So I am!”

Rachel was quiet for a moment. “How in the world did you get here? I thought—”

“
Oh, we’d better talk about that later.” Janus worked up a devious smile. “I have so much to tell you, so much. But now’s not the time or place. We’ll have to speak intheflesh or not at all. Better yet, I know another way to talk. . .” She laughed heartily, which drew a frown from Rachel. “Oh, Rache, how I love you, sis!”

“
Just tell me how you got back so quickly,” her sister said, crossing her arms.

“
It’s very
. . .
difficult to explain. Do you still believe in angels, my dear?”

“
What’s gotten into you, Janus? Since when have you started walking around nude and speaking of angels again?”

“
Oh, not the kind of angels you’re thinking about, not me,” Janus said, shaking her head. Her voice didn’t, however, carry the usual malice it held for religious nomenclature. “But. . . .
Oh, never mind. It just doesn’t make me angry any more. I feel as free as that day I moved out of this apartment, only more so. I don’t hate him anymore, sis. I don’t hate anyone anymore. I pity the sick bastard, but I can’t find it in my heart to hate.”

“
Janus?” Rachel looked concerned.

“
Something glorious happened to me a long way from here—”

“
Yeah, I’d say it was something, though not so glorious. I just watched you get killed on your show.”

Janus frowned.

“
Janus. . . ?” Rachel’s lips trembled for a moment; her dark eyes squinted a little, and the hair hanging long around her face made her look like a little girl. “Janus, are you telling me you’re an angel?”

Janus couldn’t help but laugh, but then she realized she might be hurting her sister’s feelings. “Well, no, dear. No. What I was getting at is that I’ve learned where we humans got the idea of angels, only I don’t imagine they look the way humans thought they did. They’re aliens, Rache, a whole other race of people. I think maybe I was—briefly—like something we’d call an angel, as if they let me try on their kind of existence, if only for a few moments
. . .
or hours, maybe. I’m not sure how long
. . .
but never mind. That’s for later.

“
I just wanted to say hello, and I love you, Rache.”

Rachel’s 3VRD just shook its head slowly, a searching expression on the face.

“
Can I borrow your aircar?” Janus asked.

“
You really are my sister, Janus. I ran an ID check on you. Janus, I don’t know what to say.”

“
Say I can borrow your aircar.”

Finally Rachel laughed. Her ephemeral arms reached out and embraced Janus; Rachel was transmitting fivesen commfeed, so Janus sensed her sister’s arms around her. This was the first time she’d been held like this since
. . .
she couldn’t remember. Miguel had been the last, so long ago. But now, as she thought back on the memory while Rachel held her, Janus could remember every detail of every moment when Miguel’s long, strong arms had lifted her up to his mouth or pulled her toward him; she smelled the scent of him fresh from a hard day’s work or just after showering; she tasted the flesh-sweet thickness of his tongue. And now she felt Rachel, so close, the closest Janus had ever allowed anyone, even Miguel in their few moments of intimacy. For now she wouldn’t allow the shell to return, to smother her. And for once, Janus did not feel the urge to pull away. When glimpses of uninvited embraces threatened to flood and drown this fine moment, she was able to suppress them; better yet, she could dissipate them. No longer did she fear memory, and without fear to feed on, the unwanted memory couldn’t raise itself from the dead past.

Janus’ psyche roared with laughter, the silent, sweet, drunken laughter of abandon she had felt once or twice as a young girl playing in the tall grass near her home and imagining herself elsewhere, elsewho.

Rachel slowly released her. Janus’ face burned with a strange mixture of joy and mania.

“
My god, I’m so alive, Rache!” She blew her sister a kiss as she ran to an open closet and pulled on one of her sister’s coveralls. She then walked to the kitchen drawer where the spare keycard was always kept.

“
I’ll comm you when I’ve tidied up my life a little more. I’m in love, Rache. Of all things, in love, for god’s sake!”

Rachel’s 3VRD didn’t follow Janus out into the hall. Instead, she remained standing in the center of the tiny apartment wearing a lopsided grin, clearly confused yet happy.

Hardman Nadir and the Sotoi Guntai leader surveyed their combined army from the jet-loud cabin of an NKK whirlyjet. Now that the monopera was so magnificently dead and he couldn’t subscribe to another, he simply let his headcard audio program transform the machine sounds into orchestral music. Funny how we don’t normally notice subtle shifts in engine pitch, he thought, as the string section moved nearly an octave all at once. The horns rumbled on hypnotically, never pausing for breath. Nadir found himself reducing the program’s intensity a full magnitude in order to concentrate on the night-blackened desert below and its army of shadows.

A total of nine men and women sat with them, six in blue, three in tan. Only one other EarthCo warrior, besides Nadir and Paolo, had been allowed inside. The Sotoi Guntai still didn’t trust the “butchering EarthCo dogs,” as one had called Nadir’s men. That didn’t stop them from contacting every other nearby NKK unit and inviting them to join.
Who’s in charge?
Nadir wondered, gazing at the massive, impromptu force rolling and jetting below. It still seemed he was, but that was only by default. No one else showed any desire to take full responsibility, nor did anyone have a clear goal in mind. Nadir didn’t either, really; he just knew he needed a big enough force to bust into EarthCo’s War Command establishment and root out those responsible for twisting him and his men into murderers. And it helped that he was good at acting as if he knew what he was doing. The soldiers needed a lot of reassurance that they weren’t the dark hats of this whole mess.