Less Than Human (38 page)

Names rolled down the side of the screen—the names of the dead and their ages. With floating detachment, Eleanor counted twenty-five,
mostly elderly and infants. The detachment vanished, and she nearly vomited. If she had run from Akita’s apartment the moment
Samael appeared and sounded the alarm, maybe this could have been prevented. She wanted to curl up in a ball somewhere and
be told it was a dream …

“Why didn’t the gas work properly?” Melan hooked her thumbs into her belt as if it was too tight. “If we’d made a better example,
the government would have listened to us.”

They all looked at Samael.

He merely smiled. “I acquired the substance. It’s not my fault if it was not inserted as per my recommendations.”

“The problem wasn’t the gas,” retorted Fujinaka. “Emergency services had the antidote. We mustn’t fight among ourselves. That’s
what they”—he pointed to the screen—“want us to do.”

“Yes, but how did they know to prepare the antidote?” insisted Melan.

“
Somebody’s
adept decided to be too complicated in disciplining his novices.” Fujinaka/Gagiel looked at Samael. “That paint was a stupid
idea.”

Eleanor’s newly sensitive hearing picked up a quick indrawn breath of shock. At the door, Taka’s darkly handsome face had
paled.

“Niniel has been disciplined,” said Samael. “In an uncomplicated way. And don’t forget who enabled the novices to transgress
in the first place.”

“I have already conducted penance for that.” Iroel’s voice wavered.

The screen cut from close-ups and on-the-spot interviews of the evacuees, back to an overhead view of the Betta. This time,
smoke billowed from a point halfway along the side of the L close to the ground.

“… believed the systems manager was overcome by gas and trapped in his apartment by the fire,” said the announcer. “The fire
fortunately did not spread to the rest of the building. Police are analyzing the wreckage now. The governor of Okayama this
morning praised the emergency services …”

Eleanor’s knees gave way and she sank onto the bottom step of the dais. If Masao told the police her message, they’d know
she went to see Akita. They probably thought she’d been trapped in the fire. How long would it take to discover there were
no bodies in the wreckage? The police would have no more idea where she was than she did herself. Masao would be frantic.

“Silence.” Akita held up his hand, and the Angels’ voices stilled. Melan reached over and cut off the broadcast.

Akita’s voice trembled with emotion. “They have chosen to defy us. We will show them how wrong they are.”

What did he expect? He stole their children and attacked their homes. Did he think the government would roll over and say
“go ahead”?

“Listen, my Angels.” Akita placed both hands precisely on his thighs, in a pose reminiscent of ancient samurai portraits.
“I have floated my soul in the Macrocosm, and I have seen what we must do here in this world, this manifestation of the Greater
Whole. Just as I see what each and every one of you is doing.” He paused for effect.

Melan nodded agreement. She’d better hope he couldn’t see what she and Iroel were planning.

“We must strike our enemies before they destroy us,” Akita continued. “We have seen today that the government is corrupted
by forces of evil that threaten to pluck the fresh shoots of our pure society before it is even born.”

The Angels all stood motionless, their eyes fixed on Akita’s face.

“We must exorcise this conspiracy of evil and give the people the chance they deserve—to join us in the new realm free from
birth, age, disease, and death. The Four Truths are no more.”

What about the people who don’t want to join?
Eleanor wanted to ask, but she kept her mouth shut. She looked up and saw Fujinaka’s narrow eyes on her.

Melan cleared her throat. “Will the Master enlighten us about the plan to cleanse the government?”

Akita blinked and made a show of bringing his thoughts down from a higher plane.

“Knowledge is power. We will destroy their power over our citizens by eradicating their knowledge. This will throw the country
into turmoil. We will then step in and assume command, as is our destiny.”

There was a short, mystified silence. Akita beamed at them. His eyes weren’t quite focused on anything.

“Master.” Iroel bowed awkwardly and kissed the air above Akita’s feet with a loud smack. “We do not yet have your enlightened
understanding. What is it you wish us to do, in the terms of the Microcosm?”

Akita patted the air above Iroel’s head three times. “We shall eliminate all information on the National Data Network.”

The Angels all stared at him. Eleanor felt her jaw drop.

The NDN was livelined. If this place was, too, Akita could bypass the complex security system at the liveline–groundline gates
and go directly to the NDN entry points. And once inside … she remembered the casual way he had snuffed out a subsystem to
demonstrate to her how it was done.

It would cause utter chaos. Banks, stock exchanges, insurance houses as well as the government ran information from the NDN.
Whatever Akita did could contaminate those networks, too, and possibly WorldNet. Communications would be totally disrupted,
and probably utilities such as electricity and gas. Maybe transport as well.

“We will then restore all basic functions and tell the people they are now free to join us. They can then build their own
portals to the Macrocosm,” Akita finished.

“Do you think they’ll want to do that?” Eleanor couldn’t help asking.

Akita waved his hand reassuringly. “When they understand that I am offering transcendence, who will not?”

“Some of them might like what the Microcosm offers. Work, food, exercise, sex …”

“Maybe they like that now.” Akita leaned toward her. He smelled of sweat, the incense that smoked all around the room, and
something burnt, like solder.

“But people grow old,” he said. “Their bones grow soft, their joints ache. They fight pain and the body’s degeneration. Then
which choice do you think they will make? You see”—he settled back again—“we have broken the wheel of suffering. Without bodies,
there is no birth. And therefore no rebirth. In Microcosmic terms”—he turned to the Angels—“decide who is to oversee which
network once we have taken control. Initiate those adepts who are ready to use the interface. How many?” He looked at Iroel.

Iroel met Melan’s eyes before replying. “As many as twenty.”

Samael’s head turned at the words. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Iroel blustered, but he avoided Samael’s eyes.

“Master.” Samael’s thin face was solemn. “Perhaps we are being premature. Until we have more adepts who can assist …”

“We have twice as many to help us with prayer.” Akita ignored him. “Your Master and Lilith-sama will begin the takeover. The
enemy’s defenses are strong. But in the Macrocosm, thought is all. Our thought is pure, and we will prevail.” He stood with
a grunt. “Midnight is the time. We must be ready.”

He placed his palms together, then spread his arms, palms down. His prosthetic hand kept all its manipulators inside itself.

The Angels seemed to recognize it as a signal, and all bowed, their hands together. They backed away and left, murmuring among
themselves. Samael said nothing, his face cloudy. The two novices followed them out.

“Lilith-sama, we must begin.” Adam was already seated before the console, strapping himself in. “I will show you the way to
the enemy’s gates. There you and I will breach those defenses and begin the revolution.”

That’s what you think. Eleanor sat beside him. She would use the interface, but not to help him destroy everything they knew—she’d
find a way to stop or delay him. She reached for a calm memory. The red-and-gold autumn leaves in the courtyard of the Betta,
swishing in bright drifts on the concrete until rain turned them to soggy brown …

A brown that was full of other colors, running together like an iridescent oil slick, like a kindergarten finger painting.
She flowed along the rainbow river, getting her bearings. These blue-green tributaries, they were the factory network. Farther
on, warmer colors diverged in wide deltas.

This way,
Akita’s voice said, a green flux throbbing.
We will find an entry point at the lowest level.
The greenish glow shimmered away from her, toward the orange deltas.

Eleanor deliberately flowed the other way. She ducked into a small ice-blue stream and followed it to a dead end. The colors
pooled into a whirlpool of blackness. Or perhaps it was no-color. She sent a tendril of herself—a soft ultramarine—to investigate,
and the tendril poked easily through the swirl. The rest of her followed.

She was in a different place. Long tunnels stretched away into infinity, in all directions. Colors there were, but in tiny
sparks that traveled along the walls of the tunnels, not flowing into each other.

Some tunnels had long tendrils of a uniform amethyst that crisscrossed the passages in an ever-shifting network. Phone lines,
perhaps?

Lilith, what are you doing?
Akita’s voice sounded far away, but it grew closer and angrier with each word.

Eleanor panicked. She fled down one of the tunnels, anywhere for refuge. Without “looking” she knew Akita followed close behind.
At least I’m delaying his plan, she thought wryly.

This is the wrong way.
The green of Akita filled the tunnel, but it wasn’t as strong as in the livelines.
Where are you going?

Eleanor couldn’t move.
What do you want from me?
she finally cried. Or would have cried, if she could.

Akita swirled around her, then coalesced in a long streak, as though pointing the way.
Let me show you another reason why you must join me.
The streak zipped along the wall of the tunnel, but kept part of itself around her so she couldn’t separate from it again.

The tunnel connected in dark knot-points with others, but Akita simply speared through the knots and kept going. They were
in an enclosed system. The layers of programming surrounded them like multihued stacks of pancakes.

Look familiar?

With a shock, she recognized the structure. The layers and connections translated into her own laboratory at Tomita.

Akita pooled by the exit knot.
See how primitive your efforts were.

She flowed through every connection. It was so familiar. She adjusted small problems with ease and for the first time understood
the major ones. Akita was right—her old understanding had been primitive.

She trickled into the service bot via its recharge connection in a stain of ultramarine, experimenting with its movement as
she had with the helpbot before. The service bot was easier—its movements were simple, and its programs weren’t as dense and
were, therefore, easier to flow through. She wheeled it across the lab and lifted its hammer hand to tap on the bench.

And Sam? Standing abandoned, still connected but unwanted. She wheeled the service bot back to its recharge panel, dived back
into the circuits, and found Sam. So amazing to wind herself into the maze of Sam’s programs and experience.

Sam’s sensory perception was far more comprehensive than the service bot’s simple proximity alarms. Camera sight, infrared,
ultrasound, and all the other inputs converged in interlocking cones to produce a picture. Benches, monitors, wires, chairs…nobody
human to be seen.

The lab looked huge from the height of a five-year-old. She tried walking. One leg swung slowly, and its balance mechanism
demanded more energy. She adjusted the leg so easily, as if it were her own body. She walked Sam confidently around the lab,
made it reach out to touch the service bot, sulking in its corner like a stolid praying mantis. Sam’s touch on the service
bot didn’t feel right. She adjusted the haptic sensors, like she did days ago, but this time it worked; Sam could “feel” service
bot’s smooth surface.

If she could laugh … in the desk mirror she caught a glimpse of Sam’s comically huge features pulled up in a grin.

See
how incomplete your understanding was?

She had forgotten Akita, and his voice coming from the lab speakers startled her into retracting from Sam’s circuits, back
into the lab system.

Is that all you have to show for fifteen years of work?
His expressionless voice still managed to mock her.

It was the best I could do…

Not enough, was it?

She hated him for being right.

You will have to join us to understand more.
Triumphant, echoes of his voice filled the lab.

But I don’t want to help you destroy…

He didn’t let her complete the thought. The bile-green smear encircled her deep blue, shepherding her out of the lab systems
and into the network again. She resisted, and to her horror part of the blue disintegrated in the green.

She felt no pain here, but part of her suddenly wasn’t there.
More
memories lost? She fled.

No one can defy me in here,
Akita said.

She allowed him to shepherd her along the tunnels to the dark whirlpool. It looked bigger from this side. They dived through
into the soothing many-hued river of livelines, flowed along it into the bright delta of official connections, dotted with
whirlpool gates.

She yearned for form, to touch something, and tendriled into the narrow flow of an auxiliary system, looking for a helpbot,
a recycle chamber, anything.

Akita blocked her way.

Don’t you understand? To let yourself remain tied to the Microcosm is a weakness. It reduces your ability to function in the
Macrocosm.

Did you never try these other bodies?
she retorted.

I am called to higher things. Come.
His green glowed with menace, and she followed reluctantly.

Akita avoided the boundaries between the two worlds. That’s what the robots were, border country. Neither program nor machine,
but an uneasy marriage of both. She loved the action of a robot body on the world. Machines weren’t alive, but they were a
part of the Microcosm.