Transformation Space (26 page)

‘I’m here for the sake of the Post-Species. Will you help it?’ she said into the comm.

This time it was Jancz who hesitated. ‘Stand by.’

Mira waited, stroking Nova’s back.
What is the status of the Geni-carriers?
she asked
Insignia
.

These are only a small portion of the ones we saw leave their system. The rest have been deployed.

Then he is not bluffing. Is there news of the OLOSS worlds?

No. The silence is most unnerving.

Unnerving? How unlike
Insignia
to use such an evocative word. The biozoon was largely pragmatic, and fatalistic.
Are the Pod safe?

My link is very faint. But it is there.

Mira felt relieved. The notion of the Pod seemed almost as much ‘home’ to her as the world they now orbited.

‘You are permitted onto Araldis,’ said Jancz without preamble. ‘We’ll shortcast landing coordinates. Don’t deviate from them,
Baronessa – I’ll be trackin’ you.’

The ’cast terminated, and Mira indicated to Primo
that she wished to sit upright. The membrane moulded around her to bring her to a sitting position. She slid Nova down onto
her knee.

The baby stared up at her.
Will it be safe where we are going, Mama?

Mira sighed.
You are too young to concern yourself with risk and safety, Nova. That is my job.

Nova kicked her little arms and legs in what appeared to be a mild protest.
I grew inside your womb. I understand danger.

Did you … was there … a moment at which you gained clear thought?
She tried to ask the question that had been burning her mind as delicately as possible.

Si. I’m not sure how to explain it. Tasy-al was there. From the beginning. I could feel Tasy-al around me, around us. It was
nice. Warm. Then it became difficult. You needed me, and I could no longer sleep and dream.
Nova’s thoughts were a little muddled.

When was that, little one?

On the Hub world.

Mira let out a breath. The Post-Species had altered her child, she was sure.
You helped me?
She repeated the thought despite already knowing it to be true.
Through the Hub wall and into the Bare World, and then again, when I would have fallen into the flood.

It’s all right, Mama. I will need you, too. Perhaps soon.

Nova?

What must be.

I don’t understand.

I’m hungry now.

Mira sighed and put Nova to her breast.

I have the coordinates, Mira
,
Insignia
said.

She leaned back more deeply into the Primo membrane. As the sensors reclaimed her skin, so an image of Araldis blossomed in
her mind.

The image skewed, grew, shrank, then grew again. When the focus defined, she saw an enormous cylindrical object, mesurs wide,
resting on the desert rock, its surface pitted from space travel. Hundreds – thousands – of Saqr crawled over it, their maws
bent to the skin of the craft, as if either tending or feeding from it.

An AiV and numerous terrain vehicles were parked in a cluster near one edge, close to a wide opening in the ground. As she
watched, a barge, like the one they had fled Ipo in, ground its way out of the mouth of the mine cut and along the rocky road
towards the large craft.

I know this place.

Your familia called it the Juanita mine
, said
Insignia
.

But what is that object covered with Saqr?

Nova paused in her suckling, her face upturned.
Wanton believes it to be
Medium.

You can speak with Wanton from a-a distance?

As I can with you, Mama. Wanton’s energies are low, but it has listened to my description and recognises the craft.

Has … has Wanton told you what it is?

It’s a carrier of what he calls n-non-c-corpo-real Post-Species. Unlike his own Host family.
Nova stumbled over
Non-Corporeal
, having several tries at expressing the concept. Her difficulty was a small salve to Mira’s anxiety. Perhaps there was yet
some real child in the tiny body.

Does Wanton know what they are doing here?
Mira asked.

Wanton says they need the same thing as him. A certain mineral.

‘Quixite.’ Mira said the word aloud. All the pieces of information she’d gathered since leaving Araldis began to arrange in
a pattern. ‘They destroyed my world for it. But why Araldis? There are other places in Orion where quixite can be found.’

Not like this
,
Insignia
reminded her.
The alloy doesn’t normally occur naturally; it has to be manufactured. I have a little of it in my substructure. It helps
me configure my body to accommodate my symbiote, and handle res-shift.

You’ve never told me that before.

It is very expensive. The Pod has had an agreement with a Post-Species supplier for many, many years.

Is that why you are permitted to trade with them when no other OLOSS
members are?

Yes. That is part of it.

I don’t understand. If the Post-Species can manufacture it, why would they need this supply?

Naturally occurring quixite has been proven to have certain properties that the manufactured material does not. I imagine
the Post-Species have a need.

Nova, could you ask Wanton if it has any knowledge of this.

Insignia
and Mira waited while Nova conferred with the injured Extro.

Wanton is unsure. It wonders if maybe it is to do with longevity, in the way your innate genetics offered better Host a-amal-g-am.

Nova stumbled over
amalgam
, as she had
Non-Corporeal.

Thank Wanton for me, Nova. Tell it that I will do everything I can to secure what it needs.

Wanton knows that already
, Nova thought to her gravely. And then, in a way that Mira knew was only for her, she added,
But you must be quick, Mama.

Mira leaned back fully into Primo and let it subsume her.

Insignia
, she thought.
Hurry.

The guards took Ra away without warning. Not a bad thing, Balbao thought, for the animosity between him and Connit was making
it all very unpleasant.

The tension dropped, and one by one the others shared their stories. Balbao learned more about Sammy’s role in Consilience,
and how she’d smuggled Tekton and a young scholar named Thales Berniere aboard. Hob shared his memories of the Stain Wars,
which, though interesting, went on a little.

Balbao found himself changing the subject by voicing a question that had been burning his tongue.

‘Miranda, what did Lasper Farr mean by thanking you? What was the virus he mentioned?’

Miranda, who had begun to revive after several tubes of water and some repose, visibly flagged; she looked to Jise for support.

‘We have long had a policy of not discussing our personal projects for the Entity,’ said Jise limply.

Balbao scowled. ‘A moot point at this stage, tyro. The Entity is gone, and sharing knowledge may be our only means of survival.’

Sammy, Hob and Connit said nothing but watched intently.

Eventually, Miranda cleared her throat. When she
spoke, it was only in a whisper. ‘My brief from the Entity was “Show transformation.”’

The others looked at each other, puzzled.

‘That’s all it said. From what Jise has told me and from what I can gather, it was the same for all of us. I interpreted within
the only context I could – the medical model. Pathology is my special interest area, so I created a virus that changed – transformed
– humanesque brain function. I’m embarrassed to say that Sole was not impressed, so I sold the virus on the open market. It
was bought by an ’esque on Scolar. That’s all I know.’

‘What exactly did the virus do?’

She rubbed her chins self-consciously and sighed. ‘It affects the orbito-frontal lobes, which manage decision-making. Potentially,
it can change the process by which ’esques view the world. The brain has an unlimited capacity to learn. If you change one
function, others are affected.’

‘That sounds dangerous, in the wrong hands.’ Balbao did not bother to keep the accusation from his tone.

She flushed. ‘I’d used up my entire stipend and needed funds. They are ridiculously mean for what is required. How could I
embark on another project without financial resources?’

Balbao reflected bitterly for a moment on the flaw in the whole tyro scheme. It was an upscale version of the pressure placed
upon most academics in studiums. Funds meant professional survival – they became an end instead of a means. He understood
Miranda’s dilemma, but that didn’t excuse her from selling something dangerous to the highest bidder.

His disdain of the tyros changed into something more deep-seated and unforgiving. It also triggered an uncomfortable notion.
‘Labile, what was your project for Sole?’

Farr’s biological son stared at his hands, taking his time to answer. ‘My brief was “Show strength.” I was designing a structure
that could withstand force.’

‘Jise?’

Jise was nodding to himself, as if working through an internal monologue. When it was time to speak, though, he dropped his
head as if embarrassed. ‘“Show truth.” And the truth of
that
is that I had not progressed far. I found it impossible to capture the concept. I know law and rules and evidence, but they
are not relevant to the truth. The relativity of truth makes it elusive.’

Miranda stared at him. ‘But you told me that—’

Jise gestured weakly. ‘You were doing so well. I didn’t want you pitying me, or trying to help.’

She lifted her hand and brushed his forehead lightly with her fingertips. ‘I fear we’ve been incredibly foolish, spending
our time pleasing a creature that cares little for anything.’

Balbao listened intently. There was more to this than they could see. ‘Have you ever thought that the Entity had a purpose?
Other than interacting with us? Other than learning about us?’

‘Other than that?’ echoed Jise. ‘No. I thought that we were a novelty. Something it hadn’t encountered before. I believed
in its curiosity. Mirroring ours, I suppose.’

‘My thoughts were similar,’ said Miranda. She held Jise’s hand again. They were like peas in a large pod,
thought Balbao: both fleshy and indulgent with sharp self-centred minds.

Connit climbed off his bunk and moved to lean against the solid wall. ‘I see what you mean, Balbao. But what use is that notion?
We don’t know what it asked the others for, and even if Ra tells us about his project – this device he speaks of – three of
us have perished on Belle-Monde, and Tekton … Crux knows where the devious fellow is, or what he has done.’

Sammy and Hob, who had been silent throughout, watched Connit with clear fascination. Neither had known, Balbao guessed, that
Commander Farr had offspring.

‘You don’t hold with your father’s beliefs, then, young ’un?’ blurted out Sammy.

Connit looked at her, confused and a little irritated. ‘If you’re speaking to me, my name is Labile or Connit. I’m not my
father, nor do I wish to follow his path.’

‘Where do yer figure about the scheme of things? You with OLOSS or Consilience?’

Connit looked momentarily flustered. His lean face flushed with emotion of some kind. ‘That would be none of your business
and irrelevant to our current conversation.’

‘None of me business, maybe,’ said Sammy, ‘but pretty damn relevant, to my mind.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Balbao.

Sammy looked at Hob, who nodded encouragingly. ‘Well,’ she began, in a voice so low that they craned forward to hear her.
‘Things go like this …’

Trin saw Djeserit before she saw him. She was using the moonlight to pick her way slowly over and around boulders.

‘Djes,’ he called softly, so as not to startle her.

‘Trinder!’ Her gasp of relief lifted him a little from his exhaustion. He had known she would look for him, but expected her
to have followed his path, not anticipated it.

She scrambled quickly to reach him and threw her arms around his waist. He leaned against her, taking a moment to share his
weight and feel her body against his.

‘Juno has gone the other way, following the track he thought you would take.’

‘And you chose to do the opposite.’

She looked up at him. Her skin had dried out and regained its papery texture now she was spending less time in the water,
and he could see traces of blood and bruising.

‘You’ve been injured?’

She leaned back from him. ‘And you, Principe … your face and hair.’ She reached up to touch the clotted mess. ‘Did you fall?’

‘I was pushed.’ He couldn’t keep the angry tremor from his voice.

‘Innis?’ she whispered.

He gripped her arms and pulled them both down onto a rock. ‘How do you know that?’

‘He came back to the caves some time after you left. He told us he’d gone out looking for food, and on his way back heard
a noise and saw you fall. He said that your body was lost, that you were dead.’

She began to cry, soft noises and tiny, spare tears, as though her system could barely stand to lose the water.

‘Did you believe him?’

‘Juno was suspicious. He insisted that Innis show them.’

‘And you came alone, the other way?’

‘Not alone. Joe is with me. He went higher, to look for you there.’ She pointed.

‘Joe Scali is with you?’ Trin’s relief abated, and suspicion replaced it. He hated the thought of Joe alone with Djes again.

She felt the change in his manner, his stiffening.

‘Trinder?’

He nearly told her how he felt – the jealousy born from seeing her with Joe on the beach that night – but pride and wariness
stopped him. He was Principe.

‘We must get back. Innis Mulravey will be called to answer. And I have news.’