The Namura Stone (44 page)

The prognosticator consulted with the rest of the council. He had improved the deal on offer, and he knew that he had retained his leadership of the council by doing so. None of the others had thought to negotiate.

He decided to cement that position, feeling quite mellow towards the orthogel entity. Things had not turned out quite as he would have wished, but they now had a real possibility of colonizing other planets, and he was sure that the population would appreciate that. What if they did have to cut back temporarily, whilst they were limited to Dessia? It would not affect his family; he could announce that the measures would not apply to council members. And the ordinary Dessites would be so excited about the possibility of colonizing a new planet that they would accept the new stringencies. All in all, the plan could be presented almost as a victory. Yes, the prognosticator thought to himself, things had turned out quite well, after all.

He just needed one more thing to ensure his survival at the head of Dessia, one thing to ensure his place in the cryonutrient tank.

Arcan seemed surprised at the request the prognosticator made, but was willing to implement it.

Chapter 23

DIVA HAD FLASHED again across the diameter of the Eye of Enara, swooping and diving down between the shiny lilac ridges that contoured around the centre of the eye. She was tired now; she could feel the weight of her fatigue dragging her back, and knew that she had probably left it too long.

But she wasn’t going to give up. Just one last circuit, one last attempt to keep the Ammonites attention away from anywhere else.

She could feel their eagerness; they sensed that she was tired, too. They were gaining on her, and the ones in front were already forcing her in ever smaller circles. She felt her mind lose its concentration for just a moment, and she faltered, stumbled in mid air, almost falling. Then she recovered, managing to pick up speed again.

That had been close! For one moment, she had seen Six clearly in front of her, sword drawn, trying to defend her. It had seemed real, and she had been reaching out to touch him when she realized that he wasn’t really there, and that, even if he had been, she could no longer have reached out to touch him. She had no arms.

She raced on, ignoring the confusion which seemed to be taking her over. Just this one more time. This time, when they had her enclosed, she would transport all the way back to Pictoria. Surely she had given Arcan and the others enough time to put their plan into action? It felt as if she had been hurtling around Enara forever.

She passed too close to one of the Ammonites, which spun so fiercely that it scored a long burn along one side of her. She shied away from that direction, overcorrected, and then found herself surrounded again on all sides.

She checked her body quickly. There was a deep black mark where she had been burnt, and it hurt terribly. She felt as though her legs were on fire. She wondered how it could hurt when she no longer had legs. Where were the nerves that transmitted pain? Then she realized that it didn’t matter. All that did matter was that she was finished. She was done. She had to transport away from here before they came any closer. Already she could feel the heat they were transmitting, and they were still all of ten metres away.

Diva concentrated on Pictoria and tried to visualize the thin layer which overlay everything, the one that would enable her to find her way home.

It wasn’t there.

She felt a moment of panic, redoubling her efforts. She needed to find that waveform, needed to allow herself to spread out over the galaxy, become one with it, in order to coalesce in Pictoria.

But she couldn’t see it, and the Ammonites were now only five metres away. The heat they were giving off was huge; she was now having to use second sound to dissipate it. She knew that she couldn’t go on much longer.

For the last time, she dropped back inside her mind to find the way back to Pictoria. For the last time she tried to become that thin layer across the very fabric of the sky.

Then she slumped back. She was lost. And alone. And about to be burnt; she could no longer sustain even second sound.

Diva looked around her and sighed. That was the shortest million years ever, she thought. Trust me to mess it all up. Arcan, I hope you and the others managed to carry out your plan. I hope it was all worthwhile.

There was a long silence. Diva prepared to die, again.

Then there was a whisper in her ear.

Just the tiniest whisper.

Hold on
.

I am coming for you.

She grinned to herself. Now she was hallucinating again. She could have sworn that voice was Arcan’s.

Diva, hold on!

Yes. It was Arcan, whispering to her across infinity. She must be going mad, then! And she could hear Six. His voice was hard; harsh and angry on her behalf. This must be the end. This must be as far as she was going to be permitted to travel.

She gave a faint buzz of regret, resigning herself to the end of existence. How ironic, she thought faintly. To be reincarnated … only to die within a few months. Surely that was something even the sibyla couldn’t have foreseen?

There was a fluttering sound, as of wings. The sky darkened, and suddenly the heat around her vanished, as if a shock wave had thrust the press of Ammonites in all directions around her, flinging them far away angrily.

Then she became aware of Six, clutching at what was left of her morphic body, gently enclosing her with his warm hands. She let herself rest on his palms, only dimly able to feel his warmth.

But she knew that someone who loved her was touching her. She could feel his distress through every pore of those hands, and she wanted to tell him not to worry, that she would be fine.

And she could feel the anger of Arcan, reverberating through her from that part of her which had come from the orthogel entity. He was flinging the Ammonites away from her, pulsating with anger and worry.

She relaxed, realizing that she wasn’t dead. Not yet.

Gradually, she found that she could take in more of the scene around her. She and Six were being maintained in one bubble. There was another, larger bubble, hovering close by. This contained a large number of Dessites, all of whom were waving their membranes, astounded at having been transported some 90,000 light years across the galaxy.

The Ammonites had scattered before an irate Arcan, who had transported directly into their midst, once he had felt where Diva was. They were shimmering with outrage, both for being baulked of their prey after such a long chase, and with the realization that their erstwhile allies must have come to an agreement with their enemy.

Slowly, Diva recovered most of her awareness.

“Well, Kwaidian,” she said, feebly. “You left it awfully fine, this time.”

“Yeah. The backswampers nearly got you. I know.”

“What brought you here?”

Six was still pale. “Luck. The Dessites insisted on coming, to see Enara for themselves, and to tell the Ammonites that they would not be honouring the agreement they had made with them. Personally, I think it was just a ploy on the part of the prognosticator, to appear in control of the situation, but I owe him … we would never have found you in time, if he hadn’t insisted.”

“I … I tried to get back to Pictoria, but I was lost, I couldn’t see the way.”

“I know. The visitor says he will take you. He has already called for the trimorphs to help.”

Diva became agitated. “They can’t come here! They are not immune to the Ammonites.”

“It won’t matter. You and I are in a protective bubble. They will be fine. The visitor says all three of them will be needed to escort you back to Pictoria, or you will die.”

“I seem to be making a habit of it.”

Six gave a heavy sigh. “You are causing havoc with my emotions, you know? I can’t keep up with all this.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Do you still have emotions?”

She shook herself, crossly. “Of course I do! I don’t feel any different.”

“How on Sacras can you feel the same?”

She puffed herself out. “Well, how do I know, nomus? I just do. I feel as if I still have a head, and arms, and legs. I can’t feel any difference between me now, and me then.” She shifted in his hand. “Oh, I know I look nothing like the old Diva, but I still feel as if I am her inside. I can move my head, and smile, and laugh. I just do it inside, now, instead of outside.”

“But … but you are a morphic. You are sort of small and round, and soft.”

“I haven’t lost my senses, cretin! I know what I look like. It is just that … that I don’t feel like a morphic. I think it must be like having phantom limbs after an amputation. I can still feel my eyes, my face, my legs, my arms, my hands, but they aren’t there any longer.” She stirred feebly. “Somehow I still have the perception of a complete body hard-wired into my brain. I am in pain now because the Ammonites have lacerated my limbs. The ones that aren’t there anymore. I can see the wounds they caused. I can feel the blood dripping down to the ground.”

Six looked horrified. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She reddened. “I … it seemed such a ridiculous thing to talk about. Warriors are supposed to put up with a little pain. Aren’t they?”

“So you still feel as if you had a complete body? I thought you said that would pass?”

She nodded. Then she realized that he wouldn’t be able to see that nod. So she explained what she had done.

“I did notice something. You sort of shivered.”

She repeated the movement, and he gave a tense smile. “There it was again. How strange! Why do you think it is happening?”

The visitor appeared, and they told him what they were talking about. He shimmered. “Even though I am quantum, I had similar perceptions at the very beginning. I was used to running a spaceship, remember? At first I used to feel I was still there, that I was piling on thrust, or slipping into orbit. I soon lost that though, and became truly quantum.” He seemed to think he should be congratulated.

“Then the twins must feel it, too?”

Since the twins arrived inside the bubble just then, they were soon able to give the answer to that question.

“We have Arcan’s perceptions, and he works in a similar way to the ortholiquid, and the lost animas. The canths were used to a skeletal body which had to move classically, so we only had vague residual feelings in that area. They were very transitory. We think the canths’ minds are so simple that they don’t have their limbs and body hard-wired into their brains.”

Six was astonished. “I thought becoming a morphic was to leave all your previous body behind.”

Diva managed a lethargic spin. “I wish. Unfortunately, it is a lot more complicated than that. My brain seems to assume my body is still there, even when it is not. That is part of the reason it is taking me so long to learn how to be a morphic.”

“I see. But, do the others have pain, too?”

The trimorphs said that they didn’t. The visitor questioned Diva closely about the pain, and then sympathized with her.

“Yes. I felt pain where I was connected to the ship too. Diva may never be able to change the brain function; her reality is still based on what she had before. Because she came from a category 3b species, she may never adapt fully.”

Diva grimaced. “Great!”

“But don’t worry, Diva. It doesn’t really matter. Once we get you back to the ortholiquid lake, I’m sure the pain will disappear. This ridiculous bleeding you feel will stop. Although we can’t see what you describe. The trimorphs and I just detect a seepage of energy. It seems fairly constant. That is what is wearing you down. But it won’t matter if you think you still have arms and legs and a head, or six heads. The ortholiquid will only see you as morphic. It will cure you.”

“But nobody sees me as I see myself,” complained Diva, gritting her teeth. She was in such pain that she was finding the conversation difficult.

The visitor buzzed. “Did they ever? I mean, when you were still a biped? Did people see you as you really are?”

Diva coloured. “I suppose not. Except Six.”

The visitor scintillated. “Well, then. If it is only Six …” He felt that it wasn’t necessary to finish that sentence.

Six bristled up. “What do you mean … only Six?”

“Nothing. Just that it isn’t so important.”

“Of course it is important. It matters!”

The visitor flashed. “So; how do you see her?”

“I … err …” Six came to a stop. “I don’t know.”

“Now why did I have the feeling you were going to say that?”

“Oh, go away, Visitor. I shall have to think about this. It is hard for me to see Diva now as she was before. My brain just doesn’t work like that.”

Diva closed her eyes again. The waves of pain were taking her over, and she needed to do something about it. This conversation was washing past her, as if it were taking place somewhere a long way away.

The trimorphs noticed.

“Stop wasting time, you two. We have to get Diva back to Pictoria, or she may not recover at all!” one of them said sternly. “Six, you have to let her go. Just place her down in front of you. We will try to pass our vision of the transport across to her, and see if we can escort her back.”

Six obeyed, feeling angry at his own inability to help Diva.

“Do whatever you have to. Just make sure she gets better.”