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He slapped another key and barked at the screen, “Get me Zentz!”
He had promoted Oddie Zentz to Security Chief only this year, and until yesterday Flattery had been pleased, very pleased with his service. It had been a bungle in his department that let Ozette get her out of the compound.
Late last night Flattery had ordered Zentz to personally disassemble the two security men responsible for this breach, and Zentz had at them with apparent glee. Nothing was learned from either man that wasn’t already in the report—nothing of value, that is. That Zentz did not hesitate to apply the prods and other tools of his trade to two of his best men pleased Flattery,yes, but it did not unspill the milk.
I’ll have Zentz kill two more of them if she’s not found by noon, that should put a fire under them.
He slapped the “call” key again, and said, “Call Spider Nevi. Tell him I’ll need his services.”
Flattery wanted Ozette to suffer like no human had ever suffered, and Spider Nevi would see that it came to pass.
Chapter 5
That is the difference between gods and men—gods do not murder their children. They do not exterminate themselves.
—Hali Ekel, from Journals of Pandoran Pioneers
It looked like an ordinary stand of kelp, much as anyone on Pandora might resemble another fellow human. In color it appeared a little on the blue side. By positioning its massive fronds just so, the kelp diverted ocean currents for feeding and aeration. The kelp packed itself around sediment-rich plumes of hydrothermals, warm currents that spiraled up from the bottom, forming lacunae that the humans called “lagoons.”
Immense channels streamed between these lagoons, and between other stands of kelp, to form the great kelpways that humans manipulated for their undersea transport of people and goods. The kelpway was a route significantly faster and safer than the surface. Most humans traveled the kelpways wrapped in the skins of their submersibles, but they spoke to each other over the sonar burst. This blue kelp had been eavesdropping and long harbored a curiosity of these humans and their painfully slow speech.
Humans liked the lagoons because they were calm warm waters, clear and full of fish. This blue kelp was a wild stand, unmanaged by Current Control, unfettered by the electrical goads of the Director. It had learned the right mimicry, suppressed its light display, and awakened to the scope of its own slavery. It had fooled the right people, and was now the only wild stand among dozens that were lobotomized into domesticity by Current Control. Soon, they would all flow free on the same current.
Certain chemistries from drowned humans, sometimes from humans buried at sea, were captured by the kelp and imprisoned at the fringes of this lagoon. It found that it could summon these chemistries at will and they frightened human trespassers away. Between lapses in available chemistries, the kelp taught itself to read radio waves, light waves, sound waves that brought fragments of these humans up close.
A human who touched this kelp relived the lives of the lost in a sudden, hallucinogenic burst. More than one had drowned, helpless, during the experience. A great shield of illusion surrounded the kelp, a chemical barrier, a great historical mirror of joy and horror flung back at any human who touched the periphery.
The kelp thought of this perimeter as its “event horizon.” This kelp feared Flattery, who sent henchmen to subjugate free kelp with shackles and blades. Flattery and his Current Control degraded the kelp’s intricate choreography to a robotic march of organic gates and valves that controlled the sea.
The kelp disassembled and analyzed their scents and sweats, each time gaining wisdom on this peculiar frond on the DNA vine marked “Human.”
These analyses told the kelp that it had not awakened with its single personality, its solitary being intact. It discovered it was one of several kelps, several Avata, a multiple mind where once there had been but one Great Mind. This it gleaned from the genetic memories of humans, from certain histories stored among their tissues themselves. Large portions of the Mind were missing—or disconnected. Or unconnected.
The kelp realized this the way a stroke victim might realize that his mind is nothing like it was before. When that victim recognizes that the damage is permanent, that this is what life will be and no more, therein is born frustration. And from this frustration, rage. The kelp called “Avata” bristled in such a rage.
Chapter 6
Right is self-evident. It needs no defense, just good witness.
—Ward Keel, Chief Justice (deceased)
Beatriz Tatoosh woke from a dream of drowning in kelp to the three low tones that announced her ferry’s arrival on the submersible deck. Her overnight bag and briefcase made a lumpy pillow on the hard waiting-room bench. She blinked away the blur of her dream and cleared the frog from her throat. Beatriz always had drowning dreams at the Merman launch site, but this one started a little early.
It’s the ungodly press of water everywhere …
She shuddered, though the temperature of this station down under was comfortably regulated. She shuddered at the aftermath of her dream, and at the prospect of escorting the three Organic Mental Cores into orbit. The thought of the brains without bodies that would navigate the void beyond the visible stars always laced her spine with a finger of ice. Temperature was also comfortably regulated aboard the Orbiter, where she was scheduled to be shuttled in a matter of hours. It would be none too soon. Life groundside did not attract her anymore.
Somehow the surgical vacuum of space surrounding the Orbiter never bothered her at all. Her family had been Islanders, driftninnies. Hers had been the first generation to live on land in four centuries. Islanders took to the open spaces of land life better than Mermen, who still preferred their few surviving undersea settlements. Logic couldn’t stop Beatriz from squirming at the idea of a few million kilos of ocean overhead.
The humidity in the ferry locks clamped its clammy hand over her mouth and nose. It would be worse at the launch site. Most of the full-time workers down under were Mermen and they processed their air with a high humidity. She sighed a lot when she worked down under. She sighed again now when her ferry’s tones warned her that she would be under way to the launch site in a matter of minutes. The loading crowd of shift workers bound for the site rumbled the deck on the level above her.
The drone of hundreds of feet across the metal loading plates made Beatriz squeeze her eyelids tighter yet to keep her mind from conjuring their faces. The laborers were barely more active, had barely more flesh on their bones than the refugees that clustered at Kalaloch’s sad camps. The laborers’ eyes, when she’d seen them, reflected the hint of hope. The eyes of the people in the camps were too dull to reflect anything, even that.
Imagine something pretty, she thought. Like a hylighter crossing the horizon at sunset.
It depressed Beatriz to take the ferries. By her count she’d slept nearly five hours in the waiting room while a hyperalert security squad leader sprang a white-glove search on the ferry, its passengers and their possessions. She reminded herself to check all equipment when the security was done—a discipline she picked up from Ben. HoloVision’s equipment was junk so she, Ben and their crews built their own hardware to suit themselves. It would be tempting to a security with cousins in the black market. She sighed again, worried about Ben and worried about the insidious business of the security squad.
I know that he and Rico are behind that Shadowbox, she thought. They have their distinctive style, whether they shuffle the deck and deal each other new jobs or not.
About a year ago, the second time Shadowbox jammed out the news and inserted their own show, she nearly approached Rico, wanting in. But she knew they’d left her out for a reason, so she let it go and took out the hurt on more work. Now she thought she knew the real reason she’d been left out.
They need somebody on the outside, she thought. I’m their wild card.
She had been called in to replace the missing Ben on Newsflash last night, reading, “… Ben Ozette
… on assignment in Sappho …” knowing full well that his assignment this Starday, as it had been every Starday for six weeks, had been Crista Galli herself, inside the Director’s personal compound and under the Director’s supervision.
He was with her at the time she was missing, his presence wasn’t mentioned anywhere. He’s missing, too, and the HoloVision high brass is covering it up.
That scared her. Orders to cover up whatever happened to Ben made the whole thing real.
She had thought somehow that she and Ben and Rico were immune to the recent ravages of the world. “Paid witnesses,” Ben had called the three of them. “We are the eyes and ears of the people.”
“Lamps,” Rico had laughed, a little buzzed on boo, “we’re not witnesses, we’re lamps …”
Beatriz had read on the air exactly what the Newsflash producer had written for her because there hadn’t been time for questions. She saw now how deliberate it had been to catch her off guard. HoloVision had incredible resources in people and equipment and she meant to use them to see that Ben didn’t disappear.
Ben’s not just a witness this time, she cautioned herself. He’ll ruin everything.
She had loved him, once, for a long time. Or perhaps she had been intimate with him once for a long time and had just now come to love him. Not in the other way of loving, the electric moments, it was too late for that. They had simply lived through too much horror together that no one else could understand. She had recently shared some electric moments with Dr. Dwarf MacIntosh, after thinking for so long that such feelings would never rise in her again.
Beatriz blinked her raw eyes awake. She turned her face away from the light and sat up straight on a metal bench. Nearby, a guard coughed discreetly. She wished for the clutter of her Project Voidship office aboard the Orbiter. Her office was a few dozen meters from the Current Control hatch and Dr. Dwarf MacIntosh. Her thoughts kept flying back to Mack, and to her shuttle flight to him that was still a few hours away.
