Sufficiently Advanced Technology (Inverse Shadows) (35 page)

A human would have sworn. Dacron cast a spell he thought would dispel the magic, and then stepped into the shuttle. Fire had swept through the interior, consuming everything that could burn and wiping out all traces of human existence. The control systems, hardened against all kinds of rough treatment, remained undamaged, but Dacron doubted that the shuttle would ever fly again. They’d not only damaged the hull, a remarkable feat in itself; they’d managed to cripple the normal drives and the replacements the AIs had devised for use on Darius. The magicians might not have realised, but they had been incredibly lucky. If they’d managed to ignite the rocket fuel, a crude method for boosting the shuttle into orbit, they would have blown themselves into little pieces.

There were no bodies. Dacron checked each of the compartments and found nothing, apart from ashes. A test would reveal if the bodies had been completely consumed, but he doubted that any of the equipment would work on Darius. Both his implants and the shuttle’s hardened control systems were refusing to work. Considering the matter, Dacron wondered if the intelligence behind the magic had simply amplified its effects on technology. It might well be a simpler way of dealing with the outsiders than trying to deny Dacron access to magic...

He stopped dead. It made no sense to
allow
him to use magic, not when denying it to him would have ensured that Master Faye killed him. If the objective had been to wipe out all traces of Confederation influence, it had failed spectacularly. And if the intelligence was a maddened AI, it had remained remarkably stable so far. A mad AI was hardly
subtle
...

... Unless it
was
doing something subtle. Dacron had deduced that the hidden source of magic interacted with the brains of human magicians, slowly warping them to take their place in the world it maintained. And every time Dacron used magic, he was allowing it a chance to influence his own mind. That ability, combined with the patience of an AI, would allow it to gradually bring him under its control. Eventually, he would do its bidding and he’d never realise the truth.

The thought was sickening. A human would be completely defenceless against a process of gradual conditioning. Dacron knew of plenty of case studies where humans had steadily been brainwashed, eventually reaching the point where they justified their own actions to themselves without needing to be prompted. A human mind could justify anything, given time, and if the conditioning worked properly, the victim would never think to question the slow moral inversion. And eventually it would be too late. A standard subversion implant – banned, with very good reason – would be kinder.

He heard a shout from outside and headed back into the blackened remains of the base. The bookseller was standing beside something that had fallen out of the sky on a long parachute. Dacron allowed himself a grin – magic wouldn’t interfere with a parachute – and climbed back up to stand behind the bookseller. The heat from the object was considerable, but it was already cooling rapidly.

“Basic clockwork,” he said. The early astronauts had used a similar trick to get back to Earth after they’d left orbit.
Hamilton’s
fabricators would have no trouble producing something intended to make it through the atmosphere without power. They’d done it for the shuttles; doing it for something smaller would be easy. “And I guess they know what we’re doing.”

The bookseller looked over at him. “How do they know?”

“Eyes in the sky,” Dacron said. Joshua had demonstrated magical viewing to the Confederation, but it seemed to have curious limitations. The satellites orbiting the world wouldn’t have so many problems. “We’ll have to wait until it cools down before we try to open it.”

“Or you could use magic,” the bookseller pointed out, dryly. He looked back at the remains of the shuttle. “What was that like, before it was destroyed?”

“They reengineered it for Darius,” Dacron said. “They gave it wings that could allow it to glide, even without engines; the control system was modified not to need power. A skilled pilot could have landed it if everything had just gone dead. And then we buried it and your people found it anyway.”

“And destroyed it,” the bookseller said. He looked around, nervously. “You know they could be watching us now?”

“Yes,” Dacron said. He
knew
that the Confederation was watching them, but he suspected that the bookseller meant the people who had attacked the shuttle. “Do they normally kill their captives?”

“Depends,” the bookseller admitted. “Scions sometimes want slaves – young attractive female slaves. Or they want hostages for ransom. But here... keeping your people alive would be dangerous. They determined to destroy you completely.”

“But if that was the case,” Dacron asked, “why didn’t Master Faye kill me while I was stunned?”

“You progressed rapidly with your magic lessons,” the bookseller reminded him. “Maybe he thought that you could teach him something.”

Or maybe there were limits to how far he could be pushed
, Dacron wondered. That might explain why some Pillars went insane and turned into monsters. Maybe they were just pushed too far and their minds snapped.

He stood up and walked over to the package. The heat had faded away, allowing him to tear open the covering with only minor difficulty. It was wrapped in insulation that had cracked and broken under the stresses of re-entry, but had protected the box inside. Dacron pulled it out and cracked it open, revealing a set of swords, knives and bows – and a large quiver of arrows. A quick check revealed that the swords had been given a monofilament edge. They’d be able to cut through anything, without using a hint of technology. Someone had clearly been thinking ahead.

“Take the weapons to the horses,” he ordered, absently. Under the swords, there was a large sheet of paper and a handful of emergency devices. “I’ll be along in a moment.”

He unfolded the sheet of paper and read it quickly.

Dacron

The Dead Zones appear to have expanded; we have been unable to raise anyone on the surface or control the snoops. Orbital observation appears to be the only method of observation still operational, although the station has suffered a number of odd glitches that have convinced Captain Thor to withdraw all personnel to
Hamilton
. He is currently engaged in emergency discussions with the CSC.

We monitored the attacks on the bases in both Warlock’s Bane and the mountains. As far as we can tell, there were no survivors from either. However, the shuttle carrying Elyria and Joshua crashed twenty kilometres from your position on the other side of the mountain and they are apparently still alive, if captive. (See attached map.) If possible, please attempt to free them, if Master Faye will agree to assist. We will attempt to continue updating you through laser signals.

Worryingly, we have picked up faint gravity pulses emanating from Darius and radiating out into space, without any discernible origin. These do not pose any threat to
Hamilton
, but it is possible that they represent an attempt to target the starship. At the moment, we are unable to devise a way to rescue you or the others without risking the ship. We are currently considering other options.

Please use the enclosed items to signal us and report your status.

We of Calculus.

They don’t know about Master Faye
, Dacron realised. Of course they wouldn’t know; they wouldn’t have seen any of the fighting that had left Master Faye dead and Dacron stepping into his shoes. There would be no help from Master Faye and, no matter how willing they were, no help from the rest of Warlock’s Bane. They couldn’t help fight Scions.

And the gravity pulses were worrying. On their own, they posed no threat to a ship with basic drive field technology, let alone a Peacekeeper starship. It was possible that they were intended to create a singularity that would rip
Hamilton
apart, but it would be futile, unless they had a way to break through the ship’s drive fields. An outside possibility was that they intended to open a rift into hyperspace, rather like a destabilised core tap, yet that would produce a surge of radiation that would sterilise half of Darius. It would be rather like noticing an insect on one’s foot and dropping a hammer on it.

And unless they managed to open the rupture right on top of the starship, it would be useless.

He pulled out the map and glanced at it, comparing the detailed imagery from orbit to the maps he’d glanced at in the Council Chamber. The prisoners were being taken some distance from the city, right into the heart of the Dead Zone. Dacron doubted that was an accident. The Confederation might be able to watch them, but they couldn’t do much else...

Shaking his head, he walked back to the horses and outlined the situation. “We need to save them,” he said. “How many of your guild can you call upon in need?”

The bookseller hesitated. “Are you sure that this is wise?”

“I think we have no choice,” Dacron said, firmly. Besides, it represented a chance to track down the source of magic. “We need to act fast.”

CHAPTER
T
WENTY-
N
INE

“This,” Joshua muttered, “could be better.”

Elyria gave him a sharp look. The Scions – or whoever they were – had tied both of them up so thoroughly that they could barely move. Her hands were already going numb from the ropes binding them behind her back, while her body ached from the unpleasant ride slung over the back of a horse. Joshua didn’t look to be in any better state and
his
body didn’t automatically adapt to new situations. And they’d done something to keep him from using magic.

“Yeah,” she muttered back, “it could definitely be better.”

Her implants kept refusing to work, which meant that they were completely isolated from the Confederation. Being so completely alone was a new experience, one that few in the Confederation could have tolerated for long; she didn’t even know if they’d been tracked from orbit. Even if they had been, who knew what the Confederation could do to recover them? Teleports, assault drones and stunners couldn’t be trusted on Darius. The only thing they knew would work was gas.

During the training for the mission, she’d studied the Ancient worlds and the precautions taken to ensure that the researchers could always return to outer space. A space cable had been rigged up – technology from the very dawn of the space age – to pull them up and out of the gravity well, a very basic system that could operate without power. Something comparable could be made to work on Darius, she was sure, but it would take time to fabricate and deploy such a system. And then there would be the danger of the Scions attacking it.

She looked over at their kidnappers and scowled. They were an odd bunch; all men, wearing tattered clothes and carrying staffs they used to hit the ground from time to time. None of them looked as though they took very good care of themselves, in stark contrast to Joshua or Master Faye. They were thin, unshaven and smelt rather unpleasant to her. The building they’d stopped in to take a break – a stone hut – reeked of too many unwashed men. Elyria had never been so relieved that her enhanced body included a nose she could turn off at will.

The Scions were muttering, their tones suggesting that they were constantly on the verge of throwing spells and curses at one another. Elyria watched them through lowered eyes, trying to understand their personal dynamic; none of them seemed to be the leader, in fact they all seemed to think that they were in charge. The bickering even suggested that they were about to start killing each other, yet somehow they held themselves back from the brink. She caught a glimpse of a Scion’s eyes and realised that they were all slightly mad. They’d been isolated from the rest of society for so long that it had crippled their social instincts.

She winced, inwardly. The Confederation had few crimes and only one major punishment. Those who hurt or killed their fellow humans would be isolated, permanently, from the rest of human society. They would have almost everything they wanted, except the presence of other humans. Elyria had thought about going into that field of study back when she’d been trying to decide on her first career and she’d read a little of the research. Most of the Excluded went a little mad, often killing themselves after several years of being completely alone. There were those in the Confederation who believed that the punishment was harsh and pressed for forbidding it, but it was a matter of social custom as much as law. Few people wanted to spend time with a murderer.

But the Confederation could easily contain any damage the Excluded might do. Darius would find it harder to contain a handful of angry and half-mad Scions.

Joshua winced as he pressed against his bonds. “Master Faye will bargain for us,” he said. “Or they might ask for ransom.”

Elyria doubted it. Scions
didn’t
work together – and yet this group appeared to be working as a team, although one that was more than a little dysfunctional. And they’d shot down the shuttle, a craft that should have been completely outside their social context. Maybe they’d mistaken it for a flying carpet... she shook her head, dismissing the thought with some irritation. There were just too many oddities for it to be a coincidence. They’d flown right into a planned ambush. Someone had organised an attack on the Confederation.

Once, centuries ago, there
had
been a case when the Confederation’s covert survey team had been uncovered by a human colony world, one advanced enough to grasp the concept of alien life from other star systems. The locals had assumed that the spy team were aliens – they’d forgotten their own origins – and attacked the base, somehow getting into position before the Confederation snoops had realised that they were about to act. They’d taken prisoners and studied them, before the Confederation made open contact. But the Scions didn’t seem to be interested in interrogating their captives.

Joshua presumably knew Master Faye well; he could tell them about his strengths and weaknesses. Elyria knew about the Confederation – and the mission on the planet’s surface. If she’d been in their place, she would have interrogated the captives at once, just to find out what they knew. But instead the Scions just seemed to be waiting, and arguing.