Destroyer of Worlds Part 29

Sigmund stepped back. "It's called the Blind Spot. The name fits, because the mind refuses to see it."

A place that was no place, a place beyond Pak-and, apparently, human-perception. A place beyond s.p.a.ce, in which speed might have another meaning, and a clue to how the faster-than-light drive worked. The argument was compelling, the prospects momentous, but Thssthfok trembled, too shaken to follow the logic.

Sigmund was still speaking. "You don't don't want to stare into the Blind Spot, Thssthfok. People who do, sometimes don't find their way out." want to stare into the Blind Spot, Thssthfok. People who do, sometimes don't find their way out."

"What happened?' Thssthfok asked again. "The last I remember, I was ..." He wanted to gesture at the curved wall, behind which the other s.h.i.+p clung. Only all walls here were straight. This was a new room. Smaller.

"You were lucky," Eric said. "Kirsten found you, frozen. Lost in the Blind Spot. And you were lucky again she she managed not to lose herself there." managed not to lose herself there."

Thssthfok suddenly remembered that other little s.h.i.+p. He remembered boarding, tugging himself through walls. His fingers twitched. The structural modulator was gone from his hand!

"Looking for this?" Sigmund asked. He had the modulator in his gloved hand. "We'll be keeping it. And since you've never been in this cabin, we should be safe from any more hidden surprises."

Sigmund and Eric left, and Thssthfok was alone. On Mala, and even on this s.h.i.+p, he had always had tools and technology at his disposal. Bit by bit, one abortive escape after the next, he had lost everything. He felt as helpless, as primitive, as a breeder. Thssthfok looked about the bare cabin. He saw only a bit of food, a vessel of water, and a chamber pot.

The food tray held absolutely no interest for him.

50.

Two tiny minds, scarcely communicating, quavering. A third mind. A fourth.

Hints of emanations of thought, of someone other than these scarcely sentient components. More More, the emergent mind roared into an inchoate inner s.p.a.ce.

Trembling, the four reached out. Another little mind, and another, and another...

Awareness cascaded. Consciousness blossomed. We are Ol't'ro We are Ol't'ro, they remembered. Lesser minds faded into irrelevance.

They sifted the memories of their sixteen lesser components. By their own choice, much time had pa.s.sed since the last meld. Their units had answered every request for help, at a time when the mission needed every skilled hand and tubacle. And what had best served Sigmund also served Ol't'ro: It was far better to plumb the mysteries of the s.h.i.+p-particularly its engine room!-than to monitor Sigmund's and Alice's pondering of obscure human historical puzzles.

In performing repairs, making calibrations, and disconnecting unnecessary equipment, Ol't'ro's units had absorbed many nuances of Don Quixote Don Quixote's design. They would learn more from the myriads of miniature sensors that repair duties had allowed them to hide across the vessel. Meanwhile, they still had much to infer from observations of the Outsider vessel. And they found fascinating the recent discussions about neutronium existing outside of stellar objects.

Everything that could be turned off or fine-tuned had been serviced.

Now, at long last, Ol't'ro had the opportunity to contemplate ...

"IT'S GOOD TO BE BACK," Jeeves said.

"It's good to have you back," Sigmund answered, although Eric was off fuming about the a.s.sociated power drain and wondering how, even temporarily, to compensate. "We relics should stick together."

"I see that we're much closer to New Terra."

A veiled complaint about time pa.s.sing as he was powered down? Fair enough if so, Sigmund decided. Had the s.h.i.+p's emergency been, say, an oxygen shortage, he'd not want someone else to decide he would be the one to go into an induced coma. Still, sympathy had no bearing on Sigmund's decision to awaken the AI.

"Jeeves, I'm missing something. I could use your help." Sigmund stared at the dull, picture-mode-off walls of his cabin. "It's about Alice."

"What about her?"

"Brennan went to extraordinary lengths to put Alice where he did. At least I a.s.sume he's the one responsible. Who but a protector could have arranged for her to be found as she was?"

"In deep s.p.a.ce, you mean. Orbiting the neutronium ma.s.s."

"Right." Hands behind his head, Sigmund lay on the floor of his cabin. Sleep fields were among the expendable functions disabled to conserve power, but the reduced cabin gravity was almost as comfortable. "Brennan took extraordinary measures to protect her. Brennan protected Earth by heading for Wunderland." Jeeves had been disabled through most of Alice's debrief, and that required an explanation. "Why send Alice away from Earth?"

Jeeves didn't comment.

Sigmund sat up. He saw only one answer, and he didn't much like it. "Somehow, the void between the stars was safer."

Jeeves considered. "Then Brennan was less than confident he could lure away or defeat the Pak."

Still not explaining special treatment for Alice. "Why protect Alice more than the billions on Earth?"

"I don't know," Jeeves said.

They had overlooked something. Sigmund refused to accept that Alice's reappearance here and now would remain a mystery. He opened his pocket comp. "I'm going to upload every discussion I've had with Alice, and every speculation I've had about her. Then do what you do best, Jeeves. Review everything you know about Brennan. About Alice. About anything. And correlate."

"All right," Jeeves said, not sounding hopeful- And Sigmund knew he was projecting his own doubts. He did progressive relaxation of his muscle groups, trying, and failing, to relax. He stared at the featureless walls.

"I have a possible match," Jeeves finally said. "Brennan had two children, Jennifer and Estelle. Alice says Roy Truesdale called his great-to-the-fourth grandmother 'Greatly Stelle.' "

Greatly Stelle. A pa.s.sing mention that Sigmund, never good with names, had forgotten. How many million women named Estelle lived in Sol system at any given time? A trivial coincidence-had Sigmund believed in such things. And he had more than a name match to explain. "Roy inherited a great deal of money. Enough to purchase the s.h.i.+p he and Alice took Brennan-hunting."

"Again, so Alice says."

Great-to-the-fourth grandmother. At two offspring per generation-common enough among the rich on Earth, and conservative elsewhere in Sol system-Stelle would have had two children, four grandchildren... going to thirty-two in Roy's generation. Depending on how many direct descendants had survived Stelle, up to sixty-two heirs. More still, if any bequests went to spouses, friends, or charities. Yet Roy's tiny slice of the estate had bought and equipped a long-range interplanetary s.h.i.+p. "A very wealthy woman."

"So it seems, Sigmund."

In how many ways might a super-intelligent parent secretly influence his child's fortunes? Suppose that Greatly Stelle was, or had been named after, Estelle Brennan. Then everything made sense.

A protector must must protect its bloodline, and Brennan knew Earth wasn't safe. protect its bloodline, and Brennan knew Earth wasn't safe.

"Roy was a descendant of Brennan's," Sigmund decided. "The child Alice carries has Brennan's blood. It's the unborn infant Brennan took such care to protect."

DON QUIXOTE WOULD SOON REACH NEW TERRA, raising anew the possibility of returning the Gw'oth pa.s.sengers to their home. Ol't'ro was determined that that not happen. Opportunities amid the humans were too valuable. And if Ol't'ro could reconnect with Baedeker and those like him, how much more might the Gw'otesht learn? WOULD SOON REACH NEW TERRA, raising anew the possibility of returning the Gw'oth pa.s.sengers to their home. Ol't'ro was determined that that not happen. Opportunities amid the humans were too valuable. And if Ol't'ro could reconnect with Baedeker and those like him, how much more might the Gw'otesht learn?

Reminding Sigmund of their value would be easy; the artistry lay in innocently making their case. It would not do to intimate how much s.h.i.+pboard technology they had mastered since coming aboard. Gw'oth understood wariness-how could they not, borne to an ocean teeming with predators and contested by rival city-states?-but Sigmund embodied suspicion beyond their experience. So they would offer something apart from this s.h.i.+p. Something important to Sigmund. Something, perhaps, about Alice.

With sixteen minds become one, they sorted data relevant to the challenge, reviewed options, modeled the most favorable scenarios, and chose.

Ol't'ro extended a tubacle to a comm terminal. "Sigmund," they called. "We have new thoughts about neutronium and where the Outsider s.h.i.+p found Alice."

"What have you got?" Sigmund radioed back.

Neutronium being a rare and wondrous thing, a.s.sume the neutronium ma.s.s within Kobold was the object about which Alice's s.h.i.+p later orbited. Brennan had reconfigured the s.h.i.+p's navigation to use a moving reference point, about which the s.h.i.+p would take up orbit. Kobold itself was the logical reference point-if Kobold was moving.

Ol't'ro kept it simple. "The remains of Kobold are the moving reference point."

"The remains." Sigmund thought about that for a while. "Collapsed into the neutronium. Alice saw Kobold 'blinking out.' Where does the motion come in?"

Ol't'ro said, "Remember the ring on which Alice, Roy, and Brennan lived. That is what fell into the central object. I considered the possibility that all the ma.s.s did not fall symmetrically. Brennan's artificial-gravity technology could have sped up or delayed parts of the collapse."

"This is too esoteric for an accountant," Sigmund said. He paged Kirsten, refusing to continue until she joined the link.

Kirsten caught up quickly. "An asymmetric collapse. To what purpose?"

"If we are correct"-false modesty for some reason impressed humans-"to synchronize the incremental impacts to the central ma.s.s's rotation."

"I don't see that," she said. "Conservation of energy, momentum, and angular momentum all apply. The net change to the collapsed object's motion can't exceed the energy used by the gravity generators."

Their own components might not have seen the subtlety, Ol't'ro admitted to themselves. They did not fault the humans. "The gravitational collapse initiates a much more energetic process, as matter falls into that central ma.s.s."

"Eight million gees at the surface," Sigmund remembered. "That's what Alice quoted of Brennan. How fast is stuff from the ring going when it hits?"

Kirsten said, "Relativistic, certainly. And if that's right-"

"Atomic explosions," Ol't'ro confirmed, "even atoms torn apart. That That is why Brennan might choose to synchronize the ring's collapse. A controlled input to one spot. It would turn Kobold, very briefly, into an atomic rocket." is why Brennan might choose to synchronize the ring's collapse. A controlled input to one spot. It would turn Kobold, very briefly, into an atomic rocket."

"Tanj," Sigmund said softly. "An atomic rocket. Thus making Kobold the moving reference point that overtook Alice's s.h.i.+p, and around which the singles.h.i.+p took orbit. After she was safely in stasis, of course."

"So it appears," Ol't'ro agreed. Modestly, again.

Sigmund broke a lengthening silence. "And then carried her s.h.i.+p at high speeds into deep s.p.a.ce, where Twenty-three eventually found it. Ol't'ro, as always, you have been most helpful."

"We are glad to have been of service, Sigmund." Now, and into the future.

51.

Sigmund trudged dutifully on the relax-room treadmill. In Eric's latest effort at energy conservation, gravity had been dialed down to forty percent across most of the s.h.i.+p. Jeeves did not know how quickly bone and muscle ma.s.s deteriorated in these conditions-only that they would. The subject rated only a pa.s.sing mention in his database, more a warning than useful guidance.

They had consulted doctors on New Terra. Some thought exercise might slow the deterioration, reasoning from first principles. There was no relevant data. New Terran s.p.a.ceflight built on Concordance experience, and Puppeteers had had artificial gravity for eons.

So Sigmund kept walking. It kept him warm and it couldn't hurt-at least while bungee-corded to the equipment-whereas jogging down the s.h.i.+p's corridors was an invitation to a concussion. They kept Thssthfok's cell at full gravity because he didn't didn't have exercise gear. have exercise gear.

A few more days until New Terra. Too short a time to merit bringing the singles.h.i.+p into the cargo hold that Thssthfok no longer occupied-even if Eric could vouch for the hold's structural integrity after whatever whatever it was Thssthfok's gadget did. it was Thssthfok's gadget did.

A few more days until New Terra. Sigmund antic.i.p.ated and dreaded homecoming in equal parts, no closer to a plan for defending home and loved ones than before this long detour to s.h.i.+p Twenty-three.

The treadmill program kicked up a notch, and Sigmund began to jog. No closer? Finagle, he felt farther than ever from an answer. Alice's appearance brought more questions than answers.

Unless we somehow pry the location of Earth from her subconscious.

His thoughts refused to converge. Once home meant Earth, a world he could no longer even find. Now home was New Terra. And as Alice had reawakened in Sigmund's memories, Home was also a world long ago settled by Earth. Settled twice, as Sigmund remembered, but Alice knew nothing about a colony there having failed.

He sipped water from a drink bulb as he trudged. Home, in all its meanings. Danger. Too long in s.p.a.ce. Neutronium.

And Beowulf Shaeffer. Too many of these threads came together, somehow, with the ubiquitous xenophile stars.h.i.+p pilot who had figured in many of Sigmund's ARM investigations. Shaeffer had more lives than a cat-another metaphor that meant nothing on New Terra but that uselessly cluttered Sigmund's mind.

He stumbled under a rush of memories. He had died died, a hole blasted through his chest, the last time he spoke with Beowulf. Not Bey's doing-nor anything Sigmund could bear to dwell upon. Nessus had whisked Sigmund away and saved him.

Sigmund's mind skittered off to a happier a.s.sociation: a long journey, with Bey and Carlos Wu for company- Only that encounter, too, had ended disastrously, with Sigmund's companions lying critically wounded in autodocs and Sigmund left alone to pilot their crippled s.h.i.+p. He was raving mad when rescuers boarded his vessel. Another memory Sigmund would not have missed.

So why was was Beowulf on Sigmund's mind? The last he knew, Carlos was on Home and Bey was en route, both under a.s.sumed names. Beowulf on Sigmund's mind? The last he knew, Carlos was on Home and Bey was en route, both under a.s.sumed names.

Home ... something about Home. But what?

Outsiders, Pak, and Gw'oth group minds-and only Sigmund with his damaged brain to make sense of it.

But he wasn't wasn't alone. Alice claimed to be a trained investigator. And if she had lied about being a goldskin? That, too, would be worth uncovering. alone. Alice claimed to be a trained investigator. And if she had lied about being a goldskin? That, too, would be worth uncovering.

He lobbed the drink bulb into the sink to free a hand and pulled out his pocket comp. "Alice. Where are you?"

"In my cabin," she answered. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, please." But where? He was sick of this room and endless exercise. "I'll swing by your cabin."

He found her outside her cabin door, looking... eager. At the chance to be useful, Sigmund supposed. He added insensitive neglect to the growing list of his failings. "How are you doing, Alice?"

"As well as can be expected."

"And how well is that?" he asked.

She shrugged. "What can I do for you?"

He saw she wore sticky slippers. He did, too. "Let's take a walk." They circled half the deck before Sigmund decided where to start. She moved in the low gravity with an effortless grace he could only envy. A Belter, definitely. He sighed. "Something's nagging at me, but I don't know what. I need someone skilled to get it out of me."

"All right," she said, then let the silence stretch.

Good technique. "The Home colony," he began. "Doing well in your time?"