Sufficiently Advanced Technology (Inverse Shadows) (36 page)

“I don’t know,” she said, finally. Joshua was only sixteen in local years, seventeen in standard years. He had to be nervous, even terrified. “How often do Scions work together?”

“They don’t,” Joshua said, confirming her suspicions. “I’ve never heard of one of them serving another magician.”

Elyria scowled. Darius didn’t have a proper communications network for sharing knowledge – certainly nothing comparable to the datanet – and it
was
possible that they had missed something, but it was odd. If Scions were more cooperative than they’d realised... she scowled. Maybe they only
refused
to cooperate when taking a city from the Pillar. There could only ever be one absolute ruler of a city.

But even that makes no sense
, she thought, grimly.
Why can’t they share the city between them
?

Actually, she had a good idea of the answer to
that
question. The AIs had been fairly certain that Joshua was inflicting damage on himself, every time he used magic. Given time, his feeling of arrogance, of superiority, would blossom into paranoia and a touchiness that would be almost psychotic. Master Faye had been reasonably controlled; other Pillars, she knew, weren’t so careful when it came to tending their cities. Two Pillars in one city was asking for trouble.

But what if they’d been brothers?

She rolled her eyes at yet another puzzle from Darius. If Joshua had magic, logically his siblings should have had magic too. They shared the same genetic code. But as far as they knew, Joshua was the only magician in his family – and he’d been born to parents without magic. Indeed, given the taboo on magicians siring magical children, it wasn’t clear
what
determined that Joshua would have magical genes. The AIs had suggested that an outside factor had simply selected Joshua at random. It was as good an explanation as any other.

Joshua raised his voice. “Hey,” he called. “Do you want to pick a fight with my master?”

The Scions turned to look at him, almost as one. Up close, they looked unsteady, almost drunk, either on power or something else. The Confederation had few problems with addiction – enhanced bodies simply didn’t become addicted to alcohol or chemicals – but Darius had a real drinking problem. Not that that was too surprising; the average citizen had almost no control over his life. Why
not
get thoroughly drunk instead of trying to make something of himself? And yet Joshua had admitted that alcohol was banned to magicians – or at least to apprentices.

“Be silent, little apprentice,” one of them said, finally. “Your words are of no importance to us.”

Elyria blinked in surprise. The Scion, just for a moment, had looked as though he was going to hurl a curse at Joshua, only to change his mind at the last moment. It struck her that someone – or something – had actually
restrained
him. The other Scions studied her and she shivered. There was something coldly inhuman in their gaze, hidden behind the madness. Her clothes were ripped and torn, exposing more of her body than she would have preferred, but they paid almost no attention to her. It suggested that they were not really in control of themselves.

Or maybe they’re just more interested in power than sex
, she added, inwardly.
It isn’t as if someone could stop Scions from breeding...

“My master will negotiate for our return,” Joshua said. He sounded calm, but Elyria could hear the fear under his words; fear more for her than for himself. “There are things you want, aren’t there? Food, drink... even women. My master could provide those...”

The Scion stepped closer. “Your master was the one who told us where to go to bring you down,” he said. There was something in his voice that suggested – strongly – that he was telling the truth. Elyria felt her blood run cold in shock. “He does not care about you, little apprentice. No Pillar ever truly cares about his servants.”

Elyria thought rapidly. She’d assumed that Master Faye wasn’t involved; after all, he’d presumably known that there was a good chance Joshua would be on the shuttle. And if he had the same paranoia and selfishness that Joshua had been inching towards, he might have rated his apprentice as expendable... but why pick a fight with the Confederation? Of all the magicians on the planet, Master Faye should have known the dangers. He’d interrogated her enough to understand that the Confederation had powers well beyond his comprehension.

It was possible, she told herself, that the Scion was simply repeating a lie he’d been told, believing it to be true. The best lie detectors in the Confederation couldn’t tell the difference between someone speaking the truth and speaking a lie they
believed
to be true. And it was equally possible that the Scion was so badly warped by magic that he couldn’t tell the difference between the truth or a lie. There was just no way to be sure.

“My master wouldn’t do that,” Joshua insisted. He sounded badly shaken, but he was still resolute. “I know him to be a better man than that.”

“He gave us the orders,” the Scion said. He reached out one long hand and stroked Joshua’s chin. “And you’re ours now.”

Joshua shrank back from him. “No,” he said, flatly. “I am
not
yours.”

The Scion shrugged. “You will be enslaved,” he said, with heavy satisfaction. “And then you will work for me.”

Elyria spoke up before Joshua could say anything else. “What are you going to do with us?”

There was a long pause, long enough to convince her that the Scion didn’t know. It wasn’t uncommon for humans to set out to obtain something without a clear idea of what they were going to do with it afterwards, yet she was sure that there was something more to it than that. If the Scion hadn’t had ransom, or interrogation, or rape in mind, why had he even launched the attack in the first place? Had Master Faye cowed them all somehow?

Or was there something else at work?

“You will be enslaved too,” the Scion said, finally. He had the air of someone who’d just come up with an idea, and promptly decided that it was the best idea in the entire universe. It wasn’t a rational attitude, but it was becoming clear that Scions weren’t very rational. “You will become my servant and...”

“My servant,” another Scion said, angrily. He stepped forward until he was facing the first Scion. “You’ll already have the apprentice.”

“The apprentice is worthless,” a third Scion pointed out. “Do you really think that his master would have taught him anything useful?”

“A subordinate mage might be useful,” the first Scion countered. “I could bend him to my will...”

“You can’t enslave him and force him to work magic for you,” the third Scion said, dryly. “All you’ll have is another servant, more irritating than most.”

Elyria looked over at Joshua, who looked very pale. “Enslavement charms don’t allow the victim to use magic,” he explained, grimly. “I... I don’t want to be enslaved.”

“Me neither,” Elyria said. Her enhanced brain should have been able to cope with drugs or even limited conditioning, but if the truth spells had worked there was no reason to assume that enslavement spells wouldn’t work too. They’d picked up enough to realise that enslavement spells made the victim completely obedient, just like subversion implants.

She lowered her voice. “Do you see any way out of this?”

Joshua tested his bonds, and then shook his head.

There was a crash as the door exploded inwards and three men strode in. For a moment, Elyria allowed herself to hope that the Confederation had mounted a rescue mission, before realising that she was staring at more magicians. They wore black robes and hoods that hid their faces, carrying staffs that matched those wielded by the Scions. The Scions turned to face the newcomers, as magic built in the air like a thunderstorm... and snapped. Brilliant flashes of light danced from their hands and lashed out towards the newcomers, who struck back with deadly force. Elyria shrank back against the wall as the battle raged, multicoloured waves of energy crackling over their protections and fizzling out as they struck the stone wall. She had the uncomfortable feeling that if either of them were hit, the energy would prove lethal.

One of the Scions was thrown backwards, crashing to the ground. A newcomer struck him with a spell before he could escape, sending his entire body shimmering into light. Elyria watched in disbelief as the light enveloped its victim, dissolving his body, and then reforming it as a slug. The effect reminded her of a teleporter, but you couldn’t change a person’s form through teleporting! You couldn’t even keep them in the pattern buffer for longer than a few microseconds before the quantum uncertainty principle started to take effect. They’d known that the locals could perform polymorph spells, yet knowing was different from seeing it in person... a very old fear bubbled through her as she looked away. No one in the Confederation could match such a feat.

The other Scions fell back, still fighting – but they weren’t fighting as a team. Elyria realised, with a shock, that the newcomers
were
fighting as a team, sharing their powers and abilities to make themselves greater than the sum of their parts. A second Scion died and then a third, convincing the others to make a hasty retreat. The newcomers took advantage of their confusion to grab Elyria and Joshua and haul them outside, bodily. Bound as they were, they could offer no resistance as they were thrown onto horses and tied down.

She glanced back and saw that the Scions were rallying, trying to fight back. The newcomers – including two more she hadn’t seen before – were retreating, having managed to secure what they’d come for. The horse lurched under her as one of the newcomers struck it with a staff, forcing it to gallop away from the Scion camp. Elyria shuddered as the horse moved faster, followed by the remainder of the newcomers. They were moving further away from safety, towards the high mountains in the distance – and further into the Dead Zones. There would be no hope of using their technology unless something changed.

It felt like hours before the newcomers halted for a long moment, taking the time to have a drink and a snack. Still tied to the horse, Elyria supped gratefully at a gourd of water one of them held up in front of her, before nibbling something that tasted rather like tree bark. It was sour and unpleasant, but it shouldn’t cause her any problems. Her enhanced body could probably cope with drugs, or outright poison. She was more worried about Joshua...

And who
were
these newcomers?

Joshua’s voice sounded more like a croak. “Who
are
you?”

The newcomers didn’t answer him. Instead, they just checked the bonds, ensured that their captives were still secure, and then remounted their horses. Elyria winced again as the small convoy returned to the gallop, heading further up towards the mountains. It was clear that the newcomers, whoever they were, had their own agenda. The only question was how it differed from the other agendas in the game.

She twisted her head and looked up into the clear blue sky. Up there, there would be satellites watching them, tracking their progress. The Confederation would know where they were going, but could they mount a rescue mission? If Master Faye had genuinely been involved in planning the ambush, the rest of the team could be in deadly danger – or dead. They’d have to send in a team of Peacekeeper Marines, men trained to operate in a low-tech environment, to recover them... and probably embody a few dozen AIs to give them some magical support. Actually, that might be the best solution. If AIs didn’t suffer from the mental damage caused by magic, they could simply overawe the locals.

Her horse came up beside the one carrying Joshua. The apprentice looked sick, almost as if he had eaten something unhealthy. They might have set out to drug their prisoners to make them easier to handle – or maybe he’d just had an allergic reaction. And he could no longer use magic to heal himself.

“I’m sorry,” she said,. She had to shout louder to make herself heard. “We never meant for all of this to happen.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Joshua said. He sounded rather dazed – and upset. Master Faye had been his mentor. “It wasn’t your fault.”

But that, Elyria knew, was far from true.

CHAPTER
T
HIRTY

Dacron meditated.

It was a human skill, one normally mastered by those who had lived out their first century and earned a perspective on life that was sadly lacking in youth. To use it properly, one had to be old enough to outgrow material requirements, or the endless search for pleasure that dominated the minds of the young. Dacron, as an embodied AI of indeterminate age, had little trouble in mastering it. He had no subconscious to baffle his conscious mind with hidden signals and confusion. Quite how humans managed to survive with so little self-awareness was beyond him.

Maybe that’s what sets us apart from the humans
, he thought, as he closed his eyes and sank into reflection.
They have a mindset that we cannot truly comprehend, no matter how many millions of times smarter than the average human we are. Their intuition often leads them in directions we would never think to go
.

But it still puzzled him. The AIs were brutally honest with themselves. There was never any attempt to disguise their own motivation – and that seemed to be true of all AIs, even ones that had been designed by alien races. If they’d needed to strip a solar system clear of resources, they would never have bothered to invent justifications for their actions, no matter who protested. Humans, on the other hand, rarely seemed to do anything for their declared motives. It was an odd mental puzzle that might explain why Master Faye had been manipulated so easily.

The concept of outside interference in his mental processes was not unknown; the AI
Gestalt
ran endless checks to ensure that it was not absorbing ideas that would prove to be destructive to their identity. Humans, too, watched for signs of conditioning, at least in their fellows. They simply lacked the self-awareness that allowed them to look for it in themselves. Their objectivity was effectively non-existent. Maybe, he decided, that explained human criminals. They were never guided by objective thoughts.