Raiders' Ransom (10 page)

By the time I've raised the mainsail and set the lines, the eastern sky is fading from deep black to dark blue, and the first stars are winking out. Cat and me slip out of the
harbor and along the coast eastward, with a sharp, helpful wind behind us. And by the time the sun's up, the hills give way to fly-whining marshes. A flat patchwork of greens and browns with birds flying up in spiraling flocks.

By late morning the blue sky's been eaten up by high gray clouds, and the breeze carries a twang of rain. But the clouds stay high and light, whipping over the sky, just damping us now and then with a bit of drizzle. The wind stays steady from the west, and we make good speed, slicing neatly through the dark reflecting waves.

Cat gets a bit snappy, cos he doesn't like the rain and the cold breeze over much. But he doesn't howl or meow, so there can't be any really bad weather or dangerous seas to worry about. Around midmorning, Cat meows out at the flock of birds bobbing and diving on the water. I slow us down and set out the fishing lines. Then I sail through where the birds are, and the shoal of fish they're sat on. The lines pull and sing, and in a few minutes I've caught half a dozen nice mackerel. Cat gets the first one, and starts purring loud like a drum. He doesn't mind the bits of rain so much after that.

By dusk on the first day, we're between the green hills of Wight Isle, out at sea, and South Ampton water, stretching away inland to where all the ruins are. This is the farthest east I've ever been, and it makes me jumpy to sail into waters I don't know my way round. But I know all the pilot songs, right the way to Clakton; Granny made me learn them all when I started fishing with Cat.

“What do I need them for? I ain't going that far,” is what I said to her.

“A storm might take you anywhere, so you need to know how to ride it, and where you can find safe anchor. Do you want to end up like your grampy and your parents?”

“No, Granny.”

“Then sing me all the wrecking stones between Bognor and Beachy's Head.”

And now I'm glad she was so strict.

By the time we get to a safe-looking anchor, night's drawing in. On shore, there's some house shapes around the low headland. But even when it gets to candle-lighting time, none of them are lit up. Must be ruins; there's always plenty of them about.

After I've set us safe, and Cat's curled up happy, I don't feel much like sleeping. My head keeps going round what I got to do. I think about reading the letter again, but I can't now it's dark. Instead I get the jewel out, unwrap it from the dirty cloth, and hold it in my hand. It ain't sparkling like it was in Mrs. Denton's parlor, and it feels cold and smooth, with no tingle like before. I turn it about, and there's something perfect to how it feels in my hands. Like it wants to be held. And as I hold it, it starts to warm up, but not like it's taking the heat from my hands, more like it's getting hot from inside. Which doesn't make me feel happy at all, cos the vicar's always going on about how it was the olden-time people brought all the trouble to the world, and who knows
why this thing is flickering and flashing. I reckon the best thing is to wrap it back in the cloth and leave well alone.

And I'm going to do that, really I am, but the jewel starts glowing. Not all over, but in ten little spots, just perfectly placed for putting your fingers on if you wanted to hold it. Before my head can think what I'm doing, my fingers have put themselves in the little glowing circles. There's a bright flash, a little clicking sound, and the jewel suddenly sprouts a head! It's level with my own, hanging in the dark air and glowing like a ghost. It's got a face that could be a man, could be a woman. It opens its mouth and says:

“DNA recorded and recognized. Interface locked to primary user.”

You ain't never heard anyone scream the way I give it out! I drop the jewel like it's a hot ember, and all the clatter and screaming wakes Cat, who jumps up from his sleep and starts hissing and spitting. The head stays where it is, hanging in the air, watching me, Cat, and the jewel rolling in the bottom of the boat. After a minute, my screams stop and Cat calms down.

We both stare terrified at the floating head, which raises one eyebrow and says, “Sunoon Technologies guarantees this unit only if it is operated according to the manufacturer's instructions — see section 3.2.4 of the user manual. Use contrary to those instructions may lead to the artificial intelligence becoming unstable.” It spins in the air like it's hanging on a gibbet and says, “And may I add that operation in a
boat,
out at
sea,
is almost certainly
not
covered by the guarantee.”

“What are you?” I squeak. “Are you a demon?”

The head looks irked. “The Demon is a very basic unit, with extremely limited gaming facilities. I am the Play System A I unit 2457.” It pauses. “I'm sometimes referred to as PSAI. With state-of-the-art artificial intelligence.” It looks at me like I should be impressed.

“What are you talking about?” I say.

“For goodness' sake! Have you been living under a rock? We PSAI units have been very well advertised; in the factory they were saying there's an eight-month waiting list for us.” It sighs. “Oh well, I suppose I could skip the rest of the legal stuff.”

It shuffles about on its neck, like it's clearing water out of its ears, then says, “Please identify primary user.”

I look at it blankly.

“What's your name?” it says, very slow and loud.

“Lilly Melkun,” I squeak.

“Thank you.
Now that we've cleared that up, I am your new system. What would you like to play?”

I can't help it, but a little groan comes out of my mouth. “I should have known better than to take some olden-time thing. The sea'll probably rise up and swallow us all just for you being here.”

“I am unable to understand these instructions,” says the head irritably. “Please provide more information.”

“You're just supposed to be a jewel!” I cry. “You're just supposed to pay off the raiders so they'll give back Alexandra!
You ain't supposed to be some scary head! They'll think you're one of their spirits and kill us all!”

Now the head looks quite peeved. “Really, can you please be a bit clearer? Are you talking about a fantasy game? Because my strategy capabilities are well beyond that, you know. I can handle entire wars in real time.”

“You're a puter, ain't you?” I say, suddenly twigging. After all, Mr. Denton had loads of them in his study. “But I thought you all got broke in the Collapse? How come you're still working?”

“What do you mean? What Collapse? Has there been a power failure at the factory? Is that why I've been offline for so long?” The head stops talking, and it gets a strange look on its face, like it's scared or something.

“There appears to be something wrong with my internal clock. It's saying I've been powered down for one hundred forty-seven years. But that can't be. Why would anyone leave me unplayed for so long?”

“You're lucky you're here at all,” I say. “Granny said that after the Collapse, people got really angry about puters and all that stuff, and there was gangs of people going around smashing them. There ain't any left working anywhere, that's what the vicar says. He says they don't even have puters in Greater Scotland, and they've got solar-powered sunships.”

“People smashing computers.” The head looks sick. “But what about my friends, what about units 2435 and 1897?”

The head starts looking around, like it's trying to see every way at once. “Am I safe? Is someone going to smash me?”

“Well I ain't,” I say, “though I don't know what the vicar will say if he ever finds out. You're my ransom for Alexandra, so I've got to keep you. But you can't go popping out like that. Most people would have thrown you in the sea by now.”

“Well it's not my fault. You activated me.”

“I did not. I just picked you up.”

“I am designed to respond only to the DNA of my designated user when held. And if what you say is true, then it's rather curious that I was activated at all … Pick up my drive unit,” it says. I stare at it, and it nods down at the jewel. “Go on, down there.” I put my hand out, but then pull it back. “Just pick it up!” snaps the head. “It won't hurt you. Unfortunately.”

I pick up the jewel, but with just my thumb and finger this time.

“Good,” says the head. Then it stares off into the distance. A ghostly pencil appears in the air, floats into the head's mouth, and it starts chewing.

“Well, your DNA is certainly a match for the user I was due to be sent out to,” it mutters. “Although there are some discrepancies …” It chews on the ghostly pencil a bit more.

“Aha!” it cries. “A descendant! Enough of a DNA match to allow activation!” It looks pretty pleased with itself and says, “Great-great-great-great-granddaughter by my calculation.”

“I don't have a clue what you're talking about,” I say. “You got to get back inside.”

“Well, I'm not sure I wasn't better off, anyway.” It looks a little bit sad. “You won't just leave me off, though, will you? I might as well have been killed like my friends if that's what you do.”

Well, anything to get rid of it.

“Of course I won't,” I say. “If it's safe, you can come out. Now, how do I get you back in?” I start pressing all the little glowing spots, trying to undo whatever I did in the first place.

“No!” cries the head, looking horrified. “Not like that!” It starts swirling and twisting in the air, fading and shrinking as it goes.

“I am being improperly shut down!” it wails, and it disappears into nothing.

After the head is gone, I wrap the jewel back in its cloth with shaking hands. I stare at it for ages, wondering what to do. I want to chuck the stupid thing in the sea, but I know I can't, cos then I'd have nothing to trade for Alexandra. In the end I decide I'll keep it safely hidden in my belt and not touch it again till I hand it over to the raiders. And I'll just have to hope the head doesn't come popping out again, cos I haven't the foggiest what I'll do if it does. I put the jewel away, then lie down and try to get some sleep. But my brain's even more full of whirling thoughts now, and I spend a long time staring up at the stars.

The next day, my head's claggy from not having much sleep, but there ain't any other sign of the strange glowing head. I feel a whole lot better now it's daytime, and last night starts to feel like a dream.

Even with the good wind, it'll take us four or five days to reach the mouth of the River Thames. We pass some more marshes, and little islands poking into the sea. And ruins. There's no houses round here, no smoke rising from chimneys or people moving about. Everywhere's empty, but then, who'd want to live with all the ghosts?

I ain't the only one sailing, cos we pass plenty of fishing boats, nets trailing. There's good catches round the flooded places, if you're careful not to get snagged on a drowned building. They all hail us, and I hail 'em back. But I ain't stopping, ain't telling 'em where we're off to.

That night we moor up in a sheltered inlet, far enough away from the shores that the ghosts can't get to us. I'm so tired, I just wrap myself up and lie down next to Cat. My eyes close, and I'm drifting into sleep when I feel a tingling at my waist, and a tiny high voice says, “System ready, system ready” over and over. In a moment I'm wide awake and I've got a cold feeling inside. Cos there's only one thing that'd be tingling and squeaking like that. I carefully pull the jewel out from my belt and unwrap it. The little spots are glowing on it, and I touch one gently. Straightaway the head pops out in front of me.

“Primary user identified. Welcome, Lilly Melkun.”

“What are you doing?” I say. “Why are you out again?”

It looks hurt.

“That's not a very nice greeting. Especially as you're the one who put me on standby for twenty-three hours. If you had waited for me to provide instructions, I could have told you how to do things properly. Would you like me to engage the help interface this time?”

I nod, cos I don't even know what it's talking about. The head changes suddenly. Now it doesn't look like a human anymore; it looks like an animal. A puppy maybe, but with too big eyes and a large, grinning mouth.

“Arf, arf!” it says. “Let me help you to get the best from your new Play System with full artificial intelligence. You don't need to read the manual when I'm here. Arf! Arf!”

I practically jump out of the boat, I'm that startled.

“Ugh! Go away! Where's the head? Get it back!” Instantly the creepy puppy turns back into the head.

“Well, at least you've got
some
sense,” it says. “I must say I always find the help feature totally demeaning.”