Transcendence (71 page)

At last, Miru broke the quiet. “It does not bother you that your wife divorced you during your show?”

Pehr looked away, absently stroking a broad leaf of a tall plant. “You should know it doesn’t. Hell, it’s a relief.”

“
I imagined it would be. Still. . .”

“
Yeah, in front of everyone. That would have hurt had I believed I was Captain Pehr Jackson, EConaut, at the time. But I was a little mixed up. So now, it’s like looking back at a bad show. No, I’m mostly relieved.”

“
You are free to be with Janus.”

Pehr smiled and looked at Miru. “It’s gonna take some getting used to, this understanding you have of me. Blast, though, it’s nice.”

The two exchanged a long smile, neither doubting the intentions of the other, both certain of how the other felt about him, no social taboos getting in their way. Pehr felt he wanted to tell Miru so much, now that they were alone for the first time after the experience they’d shared; he wanted to tell Miru all the things the man needed to hear on occasion, he wanted to make sure Miru didn’t still harbor guilt over the deaths of his parents and over what he’d done during the uprising on Triton. . . .
Pehr felt such a bond with—almost desire for—this man that he had to eventually turn away. Then he realized he was acting like a retro.
Love
, he thought.
I’m feeling brotherly love
.

He laughed aloud and clasped Miru by the shoulders. “My friend Miru
. . .
blast, man.” He couldn’t find the words.

Miru shook his head and put out his arms. They hugged the way Pehr had once dreamed brothers would, except Miru felt like an extension of himself. The door hissed and they let go to watch Pang and another man enter the arboretum.

“
Byung,” Pang said, walking quickly, “this is Pehr Jackson.” The new man, thin and shorter than the others, bowed slightly. He frowned.

“
You know Miru-san. Are you ready?”

“
Yes,” Byung said. “Why are we speaking in the enemy’s tongue?”

Pang looked to Miru, who began to laugh. Pehr had to laugh as well, though not for the same reason: Miru’s memories had revealed a man for whose body laughter was as alien a language as dolphinish.

“
You’ll understand everything in just a few moments,” Miru said. “Pang has explained what we intend to do?” Byung nodded.

He turned to Pehr. “Shall we begin?”

The arboretum vanishes and is replaced by a dizzying array of life-moments, countless more than I remember. This isn’t why I’m here.

*There,* Miru says. I feel him pointing at a pinwheel-shaped mass of pearls, growing larger as it approaches through a kaleidoscope of others. I glimpse Janus’ face.

“
No, not yet,” I tell him. “I want to do this with her.”

*I know,* Miru says with a smile like sunshine and mother’s caresses. *Relax. You don’t understand. There is Janus. Go to her. This is how I found you.*

All the billions of moments vanish except for Janus’, and her pinwheel of glowing pearls full of faces and places transforms into a sort of helix;
I don’t know what this means
.

*Yes you do. This is a path.*

The helix shape-changes into a ladder, a spiral stair. At the top I see Janus. She is asleep.

“
Janus! It’s me, Jack. Are you all right?”

Simultaneously, I begin to grow heavy-bodied and light hearted. “Hurry, Miru, take what you need from me.”

*We already have, powerful Captain Pehr.* Soundless laughter, like the feeling of bubbles and the taste of
. . .
seaweed?

Janus heard Pehr Jackson’s voice.

“
Jack, is that you?” she asked, waking quickly. She blinked several times to clear her eyes—her surroundings seemed to be blurring past her. Staring through a weathered bubble of ultraglas, down at sunrise-illumined fields tended by steel beetles, she remembered she was aboard Rachel and Miguel’s aircar. Her back creaked as she stretched on the old vinyl seat and fired up her headcard. The craft smelled humid and dusty—like Earth. She smiled.

“
Jack?” she 3-verded. Since she couldn’t find a trace to send to, Janus hoped he was receiving.

“
Janus!” he commed, voice-only. But she couldn’t really hear him, couldn’t have identified the tenor of his voice. “It’s me, Jack. Are you all right?”

“
Where are you?” she asked.

As if in answer, he appeared beside her. Gyros whined as the car shifted in mid-flight and stabilized. She heard his breathing—labored, shallow—saw tiny beads of sweat across his forehead, smelled his scent. And he was naked.

“
This isn’t a 3VRD, is it?” She refused to turn away, though she kept her eyes on his.

Jack started to reach out to her, recognized his condition, then dropped his hands into his lap. His cheeks rouged.

“
Don’t be like that,” she said. “Here.” She pulled off the travel blanket she’d been wearing and handed it to him. He fumbled for a few seconds, draping it this way and that, and finally settled it across his lower half, tucked between hips and seat.

When he finished arranging himself, Janus removed Miguel’s jacket and said, “Here.”

He pulled it on and looked clearly relieved. “You know how I got here?” he asked.

“
No, but I suspect,” she said. The words felt full and rich as she said them, and Jack kept eye contact longer than necessary. He nodded slightly. “I know,” she said.

“
I saw you inside Miru’s
. . .
mind,” Jack said. Janus felt let down, but he hurried on:

“
I didn’t stay inside the artifact-space long enough to
. . .
you know, live your life. I wanted to be with you when it happened.” The blanket slipped as he pivoted on the seat. “Crash it, why do our clothes disappear when we use the artifact?”

Janus felt herself smile like a little girl—not the little girl she had been, but maybe another, one she had seen in a show sometime. “Maybe the aliens like human fashions.”

“
Cute.” Jack’s face went serious again. “I didn’t stay because I wanted to share the experience with you. You know how you listened to me on the
Bounty
?”

Janus chuckled lightly. “Oh, my, the
Bounty
. What a mess that turned out to be.” She softened. “Yes, I remember.”

“
That meant a lot to me. I want to know who you are. I want to understand you, to feel that
. . .
whatever it is, that incredible bond. Do you want that, too?”

“
Jack.” She shook her head but smiled. “Of course. I. . . .
Wait a minute. How could you have seen Miru since I. . . ?”

But before she could finish, the 3VRD of the young girl from the night before—Nooa—appeared in the middle of the back seat, leaning between the front ones.

“
Captain Jackson,” the girl said, her eyes huge with anticipation, “you’re back! Now you’re both here. Please tell me everything you know about the alien artifact. I must—”

“
Brain,” Jack said, “don’t you think you’re being a little, ah, disrespectful, busting in on our private conversation?”

“
You two know each other?” Janus asked. She blinked. “Did you just call her ‘Brain,’ as in
the
Brain?”

All the strangeness swirling around her made her feel a little dizzy, so she looked out at the sun spilling oranges across the fields. Clusters of city skyscrapers made sculptures at the horizons in each compass direction, but a kilometer below only farm field rushed past.

“
I apologize for intruding,” Nooa said to Jack. She faced Janus. “Yes, the Captain and I have met. We went on, let us say, an adventure with a friend of mine, whom you may meet. And yes, I am a construct of the Brain. Now, please, I have been very patient. Please tell me what you have learned about the alien artifact. I will reward you richly.”

“
You know,” Jack says, returning his gaze to Janus, “world-ruling artificial intelligences can be a real pain in the ass. Do you mind if we spend a little time talking to the Brain?”

“
By all means,” Janus says. “I’d like you to answer a few of my questions about the artifact, too.”

They began a detailed discussion about the alien object, from the first images of it Janus had fed from Miru as the
Bounty
had approached, to when Jack entered and what he learned, to Janus’ experience
. . .
on and on. This was not the reunion Janus had in mind, but at least Jack was here; she had the undivided attention of the most complex and human-like AI ever built; and they were flying headlong into a future she not only didn’t dread, but into one she looked forward to as she had nothing else before.

Janus smiled and leaned back into the sharp edges of cracked vinyl, watching Nooa and Jack talk.
This is it
, she realized.
This is the life that I’ve always wanted
. She closed her eyes and savored the moment.

Early morning in Tripoli: Hardman Nadir heard a firefight open up between snicking plasma-guns and thudding gas-charged POs just down the hall. He shot a quick comm to the EarthCo unit sub-boss in the building’s vast auditorium where they were gathering prisoners and questioning techs, then ran out into the fight.

“
What’s on?” he commed to the NKK regulars who he’d last seen reconnoitering this, the second, floor. They’d worked their way down 68 levels, eliminating opposition to the takeover of the city’s feedcontrol center. This was the first real fight they had encountered, excepting the occasional armed guard. Nadir powered up his weapon as he emerged into the brightly lit hallway.

“
It’s some screwskull ARMCo magistrate posse,” the Filipino commander 3-verded back to him. “They think we’re terrorists. We’ll clean up here in a minute.”

Damn
, Nadir thought.
Why didn’t our ARMCo allies explain things to their people?
His boots smacked against loose floor tiles as he ran toward the fight. “This is not an execution expedition,” he said to himself. As he burst into the adjoining hall, he saw his light-blue uniformed NKK soldiers leaning out from doorways and firing.

“
Unit commander!” he 3-verded, using the ID-trace of the man with whom he had just spoken. The man’s 3VRD appeared, crouched and facing away. “Have you tried to communicate? I won’t have you killing everyone in the building. Hold your fire while I try to reason with these people.”

“
Yes, sir,” the man said, stiffening. He relayed the message, and Nadir could hear soldiers calling out with their voices to one another.

The POs—essentially fancy steam guns—pounded out a few more shots before they, too, ceased. Nadir opened an EarthCo-to-ARMCo line.

“
I need to speak to the leader of this police unit,” he commed, using English. Seconds passed during which Nadir could hear loud whispers passing far down the hallway. He took a step forward, past an NKK soldier who looked up startled and then smiled, and peered around the corner. The staticky 3VRD of an un-uniformed man flickered before Nadir; he looked vaguely Arabian, though his skin was as dark as that of the villagers Nadir had seen in a waking nightmare.

“
Put me in contact with the leader of these terrorists!” the man shouted, though his voice-trans sounded only slightly louder than the building’s ventilation. “Who are you? What have you done to our satlink? Where—”

“
Shut up and listen,” Nadir said. The policeman’s mouth fell open, then slammed shut. He was about to rant again when Nadir continued:

“
I am EarthCo Warrior Unit Boss Hardman Nadir. I am in joint command of approximately 10,000 troops, as well as thousands of pieces of armor. We’re not terrorists. We’re the good guys, and we don’t want to kill anyone. Now, don’t be a lockhead and try to fight us; that’s hopeless. We’re on your side—”

“
Ordure!” the policeman said. “That’s not what General Hammas told us.”

“
Who?” But even as he asked, Nadir knew who the man meant. “When?” he asked.

“
Hours ago, when you terrorists began your assault!” The policeman continued to yell and taunt, so Nadir shut down the BW.