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For a while, she might even have slept.
She dreamed of escape from a building where every exit was blocked. Something was chasing her.
A monster came roaring out of the darkness and killed her. But not before she hurt it, badly. She woke and lay in the darkness for a long time, staring out at nothing, full of a sudden determination.
It's not over, Senator. Not by a long shot.
When she was finally ready, she opened her Ghost to an ocean of information.
Establish a data link with the machine-head interface aboard the derelict, she ordered she ordered Piri Piri Beta. Beta. Route and encrypt via Piri Alpha. [Piri Alpha: encrypt and wipe data path post-encryption. No trace.] Route and encrypt via Piri Alpha. [Piri Alpha: encrypt and wipe data path post-encryption. No trace.]
I knew you were in there, you f.u.c.king fish. It's you, isn't it? The one that gave me that d.a.m.n figurine. I knew it. How did you do it? How the f.u.c.k did you get in here? For the first time in her life, even the enclosing walls of the Piri Reis Piri Reis felt like a prison. felt like a prison. She'd been right in thinking there was a spy on board the Hyperion. Hyperion. She'd carried it on board herself, without ever being aware. She'd carried it on board herself, without ever being aware. But that didn't explain the niggling sense of significance she felt every time she thought about the figurine. It didn't explain what was so d.a.m.ned familiar about it. Piri Alpha, how safe are we from that thing? It was only her imagination that imbued those words with a sniffy tone. 'I thought artificial intelligence wasn't possible,' Dakota said out loud, choosing her words with precision. She needed to get as much information as possible out of whatever was residing within the Hyperion's Hyperion's stacks. If it had wormed its way in deep enough, it might be able to override the life-support systems and send her, the s.h.i.+p's atmosphere, and everyone else flying out into s.p.a.ce. It could fill every room, shaft and corridor with deadly radiation . . . there was no knowing what it could do, or what it had already been doing all these long weeks. 'At least, that's what your lot always claimed. I thought Ghost technology was the only . . .' stacks. If it had wormed its way in deep enough, it might be able to override the life-support systems and send her, the s.h.i.+p's atmosphere, and everyone else flying out into s.p.a.ce. It could fill every room, shaft and corridor with deadly radiation . . . there was no knowing what it could do, or what it had already been doing all these long weeks. 'At least, that's what your lot always claimed. I thought Ghost technology was the only . . .' The answer came booming out through the Piri's Piri's speakers. speakers. 'Manifold manifestations of "intelligence" exist, dry-skin, and can be utilized, toyed with, manipulated, as the creator might wish. Big Fish may create Little Big Fish, to do the bidding of the firstborn. And I, my dear Dakota, am one of the biggest, hungriest Big Fish of all. To possess such knowledge is to be bitten by such knowledge, even mortally wounded; therefore restriction of said know-how is but a kindness to many species, as well as to your own.' 'I. . . see.' So she was speaking to a genuine machine intelligence. Very well, one more secret the Shoal had been keeping to themselves. 'Understanding within your thoughts is delightfully tasty,' the alien commented. A visual sense-impression was beginning to form in Dakota's mind's eye, transmitted via the Hyperion's Hyperion's stacks and filtered through her implants, of the Shoal-member she'd met on Bourdain's Rock swimming within its briny ball of energy. stacks and filtered through her implants, of the Shoal-member she'd met on Bourdain's Rock swimming within its briny ball of energy. 'Enjoyment greatly derived from acquisition of understanding that, far below us, in welcoming but chilly depths, lies that which you would seek to fly far, far away. This imposing surfeit of knowingness arrives with me via wings of knowledge, derived from the very same inter-ocean singing by which your colleagues have gained their own understanding of that which lies below.' 'All right, so you know about the derelict.' 'In which precious and delicate matter, Miss Merrick, I might enquire as to whether you might consider it a delight-a healthy, lifespan-prolonging delight-to aid and a.s.sist me in the destruction thereof, preventing its further investigation by those big bad fish who have been the cause of so much contretemps contretemps in your life of late.' in your life of late.' 'You. . .' Dakota struggled to understand. 'You want me to destroy the derelict? Is that what you're saying?' 'Your understanding and compliance would be gracious and healthy. Further, there are precise and delicate means by which this matter must be pursued, to wit destruction of said derelict. Such means should be engaged most precisely, lest failure be permitted.' 'But why destroy it? Why not just. . .' Dakota had to swallow to clear the sudden thickness from her throat, but she had to know. 'Why even let the Freehold come here in the first place? Why even tell tell me all this?' me all this?' 'Once more, manifold necessities present themselves, dear Miss Merrick, of a vulgar and varied nature too long and windy for casual discussion. To know is good, and not to know is frequently better. In agreement?' Ignorance is bliss? Fine. 'Consider further potential rewards of close attention paid to your task. Enjoyment of extensive lifespan in warm tasty seas, made sweeter by exclusive granting of partial rights to as yet undisclosed, but permitted, Shoal technology.' 'In return for my silence.' Destroy the derelict, betray the Freehold, escape, and be rich, Destroy the derelict, betray the Freehold, escape, and be rich, if if she could take the monster at its word. she could take the monster at its word. 'Consider benefits of continued trade amongst races of galaxy, as facilitated by mighty Shoal, biggest, vastest, mightiest Fish of all. Discovery by Shoal Hegemony of attempt to retrieve derelict would result in punitive measures, leaving human minnows lost in deepest abyssal waters without even means to sing across vacuum seas. 'End of trade, end of all-woe, woe. But! But bad for Shoal. Much better to hide unfortunate discovery from eyes of all, sweep under planet-sized carpet and walk whistling away, yes?' 'Which is where I I come in.' come in.' 'Huge and magnificent correctness, verified.' 'I help you sabotage the Freehold's salvage mission, and we pretend none of this happened. We keep it low-key so none of this registers on the Shoal's radar, and that way they don't have to run an embargo against humanity and lose their long-standing relations.h.i.+p with us. That simple?' 'To be unhelpful in these matters would bring dastardly misfortune upon human species.' Dakota couldn't fault his argument. Except that meant helping alien creatures she couldn't help but hate. If she aided the Freehold, the alien-his consciousness somehow integrated into the Hyperion- Hyperion-would bring about the collapse of the fledgling interstellar human empire, and still bury any evidence the derelict had ever existed. Or, she could work with with the alien, destroy the derelict, and allow the continued survival of the fragile interstellar network of human colonies. And, if her actions were ever made public, she would earn the enmity and hatred of much of humanity for aiding the Shoal. the alien, destroy the derelict, and allow the continued survival of the fragile interstellar network of human colonies. And, if her actions were ever made public, she would earn the enmity and hatred of much of humanity for aiding the Shoal. On the other hand, what choice did she have but to help the creature? She was already filled with loathing for Kieran Mansell and the Senator, and she desperately wanted to find a way to hurt them . . . She thought for a long while, and the alien intelligence had the good grace to remain silent until she chose to respond. The situation was so dire, so ridiculous, she even laughed out loud at one point, the sound of her mirth edging uncomfortably close to hysteria. But if she did help the Shoal, it might increase her chances of survival . . . and maybe give her the time to think of a way out of this mess. And yet, and yet. . . There was something missing here. Not so much what the Shoal-member had said, as what he had not not said. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she had the feeling there was something he didn't want her to know. And whatever that was, it might just turn out to be an advantage. said. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she had the feeling there was something he didn't want her to know. And whatever that was, it might just turn out to be an advantage. 'Even if I help you, it doesn't make us allies,' she said out loud. 'So don't insult me by suggesting it does, you understand me? All this mess is because of your your kind. The Uchidan Diaspora, the war with the Freehold-this is all because of you and your f.u.c.king colonial contracts.' She cleared her throat of the foul taste that had gathered there, cold and bitter. 'Yes, I'll help you. But not because I want to.' kind. The Uchidan Diaspora, the war with the Freehold-this is all because of you and your f.u.c.king colonial contracts.' She cleared her throat of the foul taste that had gathered there, cold and bitter. 'Yes, I'll help you. But not because I want to.' Alien sense-impressions flooded across the neural bridge of her implants, mostly incomprehensible, but buried deep in there was a very human-seeming sense of satisfaction and triumph. They had all of them been played like puppets. And then she realized what it was that felt so wrong. There's just this one Shoal-member, but where are all the rest of them ? Why send in just one of their own as some kind of software ghost, instead of a whole s.h.i.+p, or even a fleet? Unless, of course, the Shoal were so powerful they only needed to send in one of their own to defeat the aims of an entire civilization. But that wasn't quite it either. Everything this alien had done was underhand. He had infiltrated himself on to the Hyperion Hyperion via Dakota (which also begged the question of how the alien could possibly have known she would eventually find her way into working as a reluctant pilot for the Freehold), and then remained almost entirely silent for the duration of the journey to Nova Arctis. via Dakota (which also begged the question of how the alien could possibly have known she would eventually find her way into working as a reluctant pilot for the Freehold), and then remained almost entirely silent for the duration of the journey to Nova Arctis. Why did he insist on engaging her in such an elaborate charade? What was he hiding? The digitized shadow that thought of himself as Trader-In-Faecal-Matter-Of-Animals observed Dakota with amus.e.m.e.nt. Even if she stumbled on the truth, she would have no choice but to do exactly what he wanted her to do regardless. Trader had modelled his software environment to create the illusion of a limitless ocean, an eternal blackness that replicated the gentle drift of Mother Sea's embrace. The creature that had spoken with Dakota was very close to being an accurate model of the original Trader: every circuit, subroutine and protocol aboard the Hyperion- Hyperion-plus a few hidden Shoal neural processors, well out of sight, without which the human computer systems would have provided insufficient processing power-were bent to generating his self-image and consciousness. Mental processes of near infinite complexity had been magically compressed into the tiniest of virtual environments, entirely equivalent to taking a Deep Dreamer and squeezing it down until it occupied barely the same s.p.a.ce as an amoeba. Such limitations prevented the digitized Trader from feeling regret that its existence was by necessity a brief affair. To destroy the derelict and the transluminal drive within by conventional means would be to risk detection, for Shoal monitoring networks within transluminal s.p.a.ce existed precisely to detect the complex radiations thereby produced. And that would never do. The subsequent investigation would certainly lead to unantic.i.p.ated and deeply embarra.s.sing revelations concerning long-hidden factions within the Hegemony, for whom Trader was the prime mover when it came to dirty work. And that would really really never do. never do. Far, far better that the greater ma.s.ses of Shoal throughout the galaxy never learned the truth contained within the derelict-never learned of the great and terrible crime that had been committed so very long ago, albeit for the highest and n.o.blest of reasons. The destruction of the last survivors of an entire civilization-of even the knowledge knowledge of that civilization's existence was far from a minor consideration. of that civilization's existence was far from a minor consideration. The Deep Dreamers had indicated that something of great and future significance lay in the near future, and clearly the derelict now took centre stage. And this despite the fact that other copies of Trader existed in other places, monitoring other, potential near-future causal hotspots-a way of spreading the bet, as it were. Clearly, however, the Dreamers had been on the money where Dakota was concerned. Trader's purpose was to ensure her actions, and those of the Freehold, did not affect the security and stability of the Shoal Hegemony. The future was to a certain degree predictable-but it was most certainly not immutable. Corso found himself wondering what it would be like to live entirely in a world without shadows. The Hyperion's Hyperion's simulations hadn't come close to the maddening reality: every surface here was illuminated to an equal degree, still with no apparent source for that radiation. simulations hadn't come close to the maddening reality: every surface here was illuminated to an equal degree, still with no apparent source for that radiation. At one point, by way of experimentation, he squatted on his haunches and tried to block out the all-pervading light by tucking his head in against his chest and covering his head with his arms. It worked to a certain extent, but he quickly came to realize there was a ... a misty misty quality to the derelict's atmosphere, which suggested some form of luminous gas all around them. That theory might have made sense if the air piped into the derelict via the Freehold's filtration system remained visibly luminescent outside the s.h.i.+p itself, but as soon as you stepped beyond the hull and into the tunnel leading to the submersible, the luminescence vanished. quality to the derelict's atmosphere, which suggested some form of luminous gas all around them. That theory might have made sense if the air piped into the derelict via the Freehold's filtration system remained visibly luminescent outside the s.h.i.+p itself, but as soon as you stepped beyond the hull and into the tunnel leading to the submersible, the luminescence vanished. It was strangely like entering a dream world. 'According to the map, we've now gained access to almost two-thirds of the derelict,' said Kieran, watching Corso as he worked. 'Are we getting any closer yet to locating the bridge?' 'You're a.s.suming there is is any equivalent of a bridge,' Corso replied. 'Even the Shoal don't appear to have anything like the human equivalent. Far as anyone knows, they just float around in a central s.p.a.ce according to some ancient shoaling instinct, and issue commands according to social protocols we know almost nothing about.' any equivalent of a bridge,' Corso replied. 'Even the Shoal don't appear to have anything like the human equivalent. Far as anyone knows, they just float around in a central s.p.a.ce according to some ancient shoaling instinct, and issue commands according to social protocols we know almost nothing about.' 'Then there'll be a hub, at least, one or more central points from where the s.h.i.+p can be controlled.' Kieran sounded like he'd stubbornly made his mind up. Corso sighed and returned to his work, making minute physical adjustments to the interface chair's neural circuitry. Kieran, along with the Senator, appeared to believe flying the d.a.m.n fossil out of the Nova Arctis system in a blaze of glory was merely a matter of applying a can-do att.i.tude. One adjustment in particular seemed to make a difference: a minor tweak to improve the rate of dataflow between the human and alien software configurations, but one glance at a handheld screen he'd plugged into the chair suggested he'd turned a spigot and let loose a waterfall. Corso took one look at the level of activity flowing through the walls around them and felt his heart skip a beat. He bent down to pick up the toolkit he'd left lying next to the interface chair. Just as he was about to lay his hand on it, it slid away from him, slowly at first, then faster. Dumbfounded, he watched it slither across the pale, marble-like floor, and almost lost his balance when the floor unexpectedly seesawed under his feet. He saw Kieran staring back at him from across the room, mute with surprise. The floor regained its former stability, but only for a moment. Now it was beginning to tilt. Corso's immediate thought was that the derelict was about to slide into the abyss. His terror of the abyssal depths far below them hit hard, and he moaned in terror. He grabbed on to one leg of the interface chair for purchase. The s.h.i.+p continued to tilt. Kieran dropped to his knees and slid helplessly into a corner of the room, along with several random pieces of equipment Corso had kept scattered around him while he worked on the interface. Fortunately the technical team who had installed the chair had bolted it to the floor. Corso scrambled to get purchase on one of the chair legs, but lost it, tumbling down hard next to Kieran. Then he realized the tilting was limited to the room they were in. They both gaped in stunned amazement towards the entrance. They had both ditched their gel suits in the corridor outside. These, along with a stack of hardcopy data left behind by the surface base's technical staff, resolutely refused to slide away or otherwise become affected by the tilting effect. That seemed bad enough-but then monsters started coming out of the walls. An alert via the Hyperion's Hyperion's ground link manifested as a tickling sensation in the back of Dakota's throat. ground link manifested as a tickling sensation in the back of Dakota's throat. She'd been floating in the silence and dark of her own s.h.i.+p for the better part of an hour, the Piri Reis's Piri Reis's effigy-form having since disappeared once more back into its wall-niche. Her mind at first had been full of thoughts of revenge, but these had given way in the end to icy determination. effigy-form having since disappeared once more back into its wall-niche. Her mind at first had been full of thoughts of revenge, but these had given way in the end to icy determination. Their treatment of her, she realized, was partly because they were afraid of her. It was good that they were afraid of her. After a while, she sank into a kind of Ghost-induced machine meditation, a near-vegetative state, her consciousness set adrift and only peripherally aware of the constant flow of maintenance routines keeping the Hyperion Hyperion running. running. As she half-dreamed, images slipped by her mind's eye, mostly incomprehensible. She recalled the brief moment of connection she'd felt with whatever lived deep inside the derelict's stacks. Even her Ghost was struggling to a.s.similate or make sense of that intense, overwhelming flood of sensory data. But understanding was nevertheless coming, albeit slowly. She came to full awareness as the alert signal became more urgent, demanding her attention. She kept her conscious mind at one remove while her Ghost handled the situation, working at machine-speed in a familiar, occasionally disturbing antic.i.p.ation of her own thoughts and actions. Something significant was happening on board the derelict: the energy output from its systems was growing exponentially. It was, Dakota realized with awe, channelling through its hull bursts of energy so vast they might more typically be a.s.sociated with solar flares. It became rapidly clear that any contact with the personnel on the derelict had been lost. Dakota hesitated for long seconds. Arbenz was likely already aware of the situation developing, but if he wasn't, he would punish her for failing to pa.s.s on what her machine-senses were now telling her. What, exactly, to do? A moment later that decision was out of her hands. Automated systems were already spreading the alert to the surface base, as well as to the Agartha. Agartha. But something something was in there. She didn't know if it was something alive, but it was certainly aware of her. Even from orbit, she could sense it, like some ancient beast padding just beyond the reach of a campfire's light. was in there. She didn't know if it was something alive, but it was certainly aware of her. Even from orbit, she could sense it, like some ancient beast padding just beyond the reach of a campfire's light. Even from this far, she knew it wanted something from her. Just what, precisely, she couldn't yet begin to guess.