System Seven (51 page)

If I worry about what I don’t know, I’ll be no
good using what I do know. I’m not going to worry until I’m out of options.

Let’s pray your options are many, then.

Pray to the Lady of the Stars, yes. Or maybe to
your Geo. Nothing more?

Nothing.

From the cabin of the
craft, Johan called out, “Let’s do this.”

Austin checked on the
readings. Heart rhythm, body temperature, brain wave activity, rate of oxygen
consumption, and skin resistance data filled the screens. Somewhere a lawnmower
started. The dogs barked. The modified silence settled in the ears of everyone
gathered. The technician kept to himself, as did the guards.

Several minutes
passed. Martin glanced up from his chair. If things went bad, he would
disconnect one or both of them from their bodies. Perhaps they’d be stored
somewhere, like Clare had been. Perhaps it was too risky. Martin hadn’t shared details
of the plan.

Anki’s heart rate
increased while Johan’s brain waves rose to high beta, indicating a very alert,
possibly anxious state. On the shùil screen, a scene emerged.

The technician nodded.
“Looks like he’s found the target.”

• • •

The two young women
worked in the glow of hundreds of white candles, softly sponging their mistress
while humming a song of the magician Vergilius. Steam rose from the sunken
marble bath in the caldarium, its scented waters combining with the loving
strokes to soothe Maria’s worry and ease earthly concerns. Dealing with Bastion
had stressed her like nothing in recent memory.

She reached up to
stroke the slave’s arm, earning a tentative smile. “More wine, please.”

The woman stood to
comply then froze when the first strains of a flute sounded.

Maria cocked her head,
preparing a diatribe for the only one who could be so audacious to interrupt
her privacy. She sat up and turned, expecting Bastion. The man she saw was not
Bastion, nor a manifestation of his.

This man was beautiful,
inside and out. A curly mop of hair adorned an alluring face further
complimented by a graceful, muscular body wrapped in a pure white exomis and
red cloak. He held her with a commanding gaze – instead of cruelty or coldness,
his eyes bespoke temperament, love, and soul-piercing interest. A cup of wine
and a bundle of grapes in one hand left no doubt who her visitor was meant to
portray. She had never felt anyone so perfectly mimic the ancient Greek
Dionysus, god of wine, ritual madness, and ecstasy. His mere presence made
worship a compulsion.

The slaves pulled
back, unsure of their place. Maria waved them to their marble seats. She stood,
her wet skin reflecting the sea of candlelight.

“You are the powerful
one, aren’t you?” She watched him approach. “The Change of legend. A fitting
avatar, as you must be mad to come to me in this fashion.”

“Not so mad. And no,
he will not know of this visit.” He stood over her. “As long as you do not tell
him.”

“As if I haven’t
already.”

She hadn’t – perhaps
couldn’t – and he knew it. He plucked a grape and held it before her lips. The
intimate offer birthed warmth that rippled across her breasts. Here was more
danger than she’d ever faced and still she felt the thrill of lust.
Madness, yes
.

She turned away and
stepped from the bath to retrieve her robe, feeling his eyes upon her. “Speak
now before I change my mind.”

“You’re not so hasty,
Maria. You respect your godly position too much for that. I wish the same were
true of the others.”

She cinched the robe and
turned to regard him. “You don’t know me.”

“As well you know me.”

“I know you are Gerrit
Bartel, druid-born, and a pawn of priests.” She poured a cup of wine. “I know
you believe us to be evil beyond words, puppet masters of mankind. What else
would the rebellious have you believe? Certainly not the whole truth. You would
have been better off without them. Still can be.” She walked to a warming bench
and sat.

He circled the bath.
“Maria, former G1 agent, risk taker, lover of men and apparently of Greek women.
Now a member of the High Council, your rise to power was not without conflict,
something that haunts you this very moment. Should they learn of your
indiscretions, you’d be worse than done. Always at the precipice, you dare
dream of an alternative path for the council, one that sees you dominant.” He
joined her on the bench. “And that, my lusty Maria, is why I am here.”

He knew, had already
passed barriers the others could not. Anxiety bubbled with fear as she pushed
and pried at the seams to learn how solidly encased she was. For long moments
she probed from a dozen different perspectives, searching for deception, any
hint of a set up. After thoroughly raking the dream, she finally conceded to
his control. Overseer was right – he governed the mesh like none other.

“I’m going to assume
you are projecting some suitably erotic version of events for those that might
monitor. Bastion is capable. I’m not sure about the others.”

He nodded. “You’re
still being sponged. Without an audience as far as I can tell.”

She gazed into vivid
hazel eyes, briefly giving herself to the fantasy of a god courting her. He
made it so, so easy. His power exceeded that of Bastion, that of several of the
Executives, if not all, combined. Self-preservation felt attainable with collusion.
Removing Bastion would simplify everything as long as he truly departed.

“Well then, let me
start by saying you do not understand what the council is protecting against.
Our methods may appear oppressive and inhumane but it is all meant to avoid the
chaos that would otherwise manifest.”

“You’re standing in
the way of a planet’s evolution. How is that protecting anything but your
control?”

“Evolution? Devolution
more like. Are you not aware of the nature of man? Of the variety of
subspecies? They didn’t tell you, did they? Not all are created equal. There is
violence in the DNA of some. Instability in others. Raising them from the murk
of ignorance would not lead to utopia. Curing all disease would not improve the
outlook. Without the systems, without our management, without our plans,
mankind would unravel.”

“You will not convince
me, Maria, that your council is fit to preside as gods for an entire planet.
Even you do not believe that.”

“I can’t say it for
our predecessors, but we’ve made great strides in the last hundred years. The
Runa Korda disagree, not surprisingly. Control of ultimate power always spawns
differences and contests but the battle they’ve begun will not be tolerated.
The Korda cannot replace our plans with theirs, no matter how fierce their
desire. My problem is that Bastion’s leadership may leave us with little or
nothing to rule. There is a better way to manage our powers and our problems.”

“Bastion then.” He
sipped from his cup. “How can I get to him?”

She nearly blushed at
revealing his name. Unspoken goals suddenly came into focus. She hesitated. “I
cannot be implicated. Even after you succeed, my complicity cannot be revealed.
If it is, you’ll think of Bastion as a feisty kitten.”

“I intend to stop the
obscene retribution under way. If you help me remove him and change the present
course, I won’t reveal your cooperation. You have my word. Beyond that, I have
ideas that involve you and the Runa Korda.”

Whatever his plans,
she didn’t doubt the promise or his altruism. It would have to do.

“Killing his body will
be difficult but nothing compared to handling his core. You obviously managed
to slip by my guards. Bastion’s personal guard is many times that of mine and
hand-picked. He travels with his own recovery crew to move him to a new host
should his be damaged. I cannot turn you onto his core because he will
recognize my sense as your source when you reach for him. If you manage to
destroy his host and control his core you would need to keep him subdued until
he is collected. You are aware of Eden? Then you know it can take its own sweet
time. You’ll be on your own, during and after. I cannot pull them off you in
any case. If things fall apart and I’m discovered, you promise to deliver me to
Eden, at all costs.”

“That’s reasonable.
Where can I find him?”

His probe for
information on the Core felt like a rough strip search. “Consider him beyond
reach. I will arrange to get him out and about. There is a woman by the name of
Samantha Sigler in a care home in Cambridge, the UK. She is autistic and posts
a running blog every day. Look it up and stay on it. You’ll get instructions
from that.”

“Will you be able to
keep this from him?”

“Surely. I am
experienced. There is something you should be aware of. Combining. I’m sure the
Korda are working on it. Our teams are close to achieving it. Should they
succeed, you would have one hell of a fight on your hands. You may want to
check with your priests.”

“Thanks, I’ll do
that.” He set down the grapes and wine and stood, eyeing the two slaves. “Just
so we understand each other, I don’t expect a truce,” he leveled his gaze at
her, “but in exchange for your...
elevation
,
I expect a resumption of peace in the world of man. A return of the status quo,
at least. That is your preference as well, no?”

He needn’t ask but she
reassured him anyway. “My vision differs from Bastion’s, so yes. However, if
this new arrangement comes to pass, we will meet again to discuss the Runa
Korda’s future. There is so much you need to consider.”

She motioned and the
two slaves approached. The deal made, she loosened her robe and her demeanor.
“I have half an hour.”

“Perhaps another time,
Maria. Enjoy.”

The intense power left
his gaze and was replaced by the energy of her own imagined god. She quickly
breathed life into him, life modeled after Gerrit’s Dionysus. It seemed quite
possible he had outdone the original, something only a god could do. She
lingered under his stare, unwilling to give up the fantasy.

“Come, Dionysus. You
have been away from your earthly roots for too long.” She reached out and drew
him in by the hips. “Let us celebrate your return...”

• • •

Johan swung his feet
to the deck, visibly shaken. “What a mind fuck.”

“Almost, yes,” Anki
said.

“What happened?” Austin
asked from the hatch. “Did she make it across?”

“Yes she did.” Johan
looked to Anki. “I wasn’t sure she should go.”

Anki nodded in
agreement. Martin started a countdown timer.

Austin looked to ready
to pop. “What
happened?
The audio was
poor.”

“Maria’s her name and
she’s ready as can be. Either that or she’s setting me up. We made a deal. She
turns us onto the one in charge, we take him out, and she calls off the dogs.
The guy’s name is Bastion. I got a vague reading off her but nothing I could
use to track. We’ll have to hit him in the grid and then punch him home.”

Martin grew concerned.
“And you sent Clare over anyway?”

“She wanted to go,”
Anki said. “I don’t think I could have stopped her.”

“So now we wait?” Austin
asked.

“First window is in
three minutes. She’ll try for details of the base first. If she wants to
continue, we’ll extend again.” He laid back down, clearly exhausted. He
explained the autistic blogger and the instructions to monitor the site.

Martin shook his head.
“A website? I don’t like it. Might as well point an arrow at yourself.”

“We may not have a
choice. I’ve an idea on how to watch it safely.”

“Oh shit,” Austin
said. “I don’t like it already.”

“One minute thirty,” Martin
said. “Silence now and prepare.”

• • •

Blackness.

Boundless.

Without time.

Without form.

Can you be trusted?

The question split the
void as a shining blade, a defensive swipe at whoever was lurking.

Meaning bled into the
darkness. Time faded once more.

• • •

“That was damn close.
Too damn close.”

Johan had again
slipped by Maria’s guard in order to wait for Clare’s return. In the narrow
nook of nothingness that had proved safe before, the executive’s sudden focus
struck like nails in his chest. While he struggled to maintain his sense of
absence, Clare’s gossamer thread beckoned. As if he’d split in two, one side
paced Maria’s attention while the other managed to bring Clare back. Had he
blinked, she might have sensed him and known what he’d done.

A small part of him
wondered if she had.

Anki sat in the living
room with her head in her hands, consumed by the knowledge transfer with her
mother. Martin sat with her, hand on her shoulder, calming as best he could.

“It’s a bit much,” he
said softly.

“Yes,” she started. “It’s a lot.” She looked
up. The energy in her eyes and voice told Johan it wasn’t Anki speaking but
rather Clare.