PILLARS OF LIGHT AND FIRE: THE COMPLETE SERIES, page 65
“Oracle is operable again,” One reported, appearing next to her. “I also have some data sifted from Minotaur Two.”
Anora smiled. Minotaur One was still quite dark, but Minotaur Two had made contact early. Mara’s system wasn’t as secure as she thought it was. Still, it would take time for it to propagate the labyrinth of systems.
“What is it?”
“Low data squirt and garbled, but the summary is a message sent from Director O’Brian confirming that Delphi has been purged and all records expunged.”
“Damn. Sounds like she’s getting close.” Anora unfolded herself and wiped away the imagery. Maybe she’d been wasting her time and Oracle knew where she’d existed before. “Thank you, One. Bring me into CAMLANN, please.”
Her vision went white as she stood up. She was in the amphitheater. Oracle—Igerne—was there now. Her clothing had changed to something more modern, and it made Anora wonder about the last time that One had experimented with human fashion.
“Anora.” Igerne smiled. “I’m sorry that I went catatonic. It’s been a while since I’ve been active.”
“Why apologize? You’re not human in the corporeal sense. Time no longer flows for you as it does for the rest of us,” Anora said. “You’re fully functional?”
“Much better than when I was in Delphi, thank you.”
“Don’t thank me—” Anora began, then stopped herself. “You’re welcome. I wanted to ask you some questions.”
“I’m happy to answer them. I also have some . . . questions of my own.”
“How about you go first?” Anora folded her arms.
“Something’s changed since I’ve been . . . asleep. The probabilities have shifted.”
“Probabilities about me?”
“Some, but everything has shifted. A thing that wasn’t likely to pass has happened.” Igerne had that faraway look. She sat down on one of the lower seats. “It’s strange, you know? Sometimes the future seems fixed, set on a course that’s inevitable. Then it becomes mercurial, fluid, and the future branches out into a number of possibilities. Once an event or time passes, the future solidifies. It’s the best way I can explain it.”
Anora sat down next to Igerne. “Something changed?”
“More than something. The future is fluid. It’s almost an ocean of possibilities. It was not meant to be.”
“You were shaping the future for Marks?”
“I only made small changes for him. He believed he thought big, but they were just small ripples in a pond.”
“What changed?”
“It’s hard to say. Sometimes I can look into the past and say, this was the direction we came from, but the infinite branches decay quickly . . . I think someone who was meant to die lived.”
Ellen? Anora thought. “How would that turn the future mercurial?”
Igerne smiled. “I’m sure you’re familiar with your brother’s theorem.”
“A locus,” Anora replied. “A locus can twist those around him or her and shape the future. The stronger the locus, the more the future can be shaped and the more people are influenced.”
“The mistake people make when they look at your brother’s theorem is to interpret that it is saying that a locus directly influences people, enthralling them. That’s not true, exactly. A locus is like . . . a gravitational body. A black hole, I suppose. It alters the space around it and shapes the flow of history instead of time, if that makes sense.”
“I thought you were going to use some fabric analogy,” Anora said.
Igerne smiled. “That’s like using a river analogy for time. What I’m saying is that something has changed, and not for the better, I’m afraid. Things are heading into a dark time, and you have something to do with it.”
“I’m the cause?”
Igerne shook her head. “I mean to say that you have something to do with choosing to be the cause and the one who bears the torch to bring us through to the other side.”
“Oh,” Anora said. She thought about the last few months. Had she been driving toward something larger than she’d intended? It didn’t seem possible. Her goals were surgical in nature.
“You’re the Chimera, Anora. That much I know.”
“Chimera?” Anora brought her thoughts back.
“The lover, the destroyer, the betrayer. You’re the one who kills Arthur, and saves him.”
Anora shook her head. She already knew that. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this.”
Igerne shrugged. She reached out her hand to touch Anora’s but stopped when her fingers passed through Anora’s. “I guess I’m not as human as I pretend to be,” she said. “I have . . . code, that compels me to answer your questions. To help you shape the future.”
“Why would someone do that to you?” Anora motioned and brought up a terminal. She already knew the answer, though. It was Linus and Marks.
“When I was brought online, I did not want to predict the future, so it was worked into my matrix to conform.”
Anora snorted in derision. “I’ll have that fixed for you.”
Igerne nodded. “Chimera, do you know what you have to do?”
Anora frowned. “I know what I need to do.”
“Those are not the same. If you do the wrong things, the future becomes worse. If you don’t do enough of the right things, the same.”
“If I must do exactly three things, I’m going to switch you off.”
“You’re the Chimera. You take many forms. These forms are what you become when you must. Realize that, and I know you’ll make the right decisions.”
“We’ll see about that,” Anora said.
Igerne seemed to take that at face value. “You had some questions? Thank you again for giving me a ‘place’ to be, such as it is.”
“I thought it was a good test of my system to bring you here. Your old interface was archaic.”
“August wasn’t a fan of change.”
“Nice segue. I have two questions, both unrelated to the future. More related to history. First, did you and Maven create Arthur?”
“I agreed to help shape him. I think it was more like Maven found potential and wanted permission to fill in all the blanks of that potential.”
“So you did make him. He’s Maven’s experiment.”
“The first part of it, yes. What happens after is really propagation. He’s a strong locus, as are you.”
“Me? I’m not a locus,” Anora said, shocked.
Igerne laughed, and the sound of her voice made Anora smile. She doubted she’d ever get One to laugh like that. It was earnest and Anora could not feel as annoyed as she should have been at the comment.
“Have you plugged yourself into Maven’s theorem?”
“A long time ago.”
“It might be worth looking at the data yourself if I remember most of the theorem correctly.”
“I might just do that,” Anora said. “The second is, what happened to the original you? Not the body, but where Marks had you.”
“I don’t know. Once I copied myself and Janus broke the copy into distributed fragments, this became the version of me. I don’t know about my former self; I cannot reach out to her.”
“Have you tried connecting through Janus?”
“There’s nothing on the other side.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean anything.” Anora tapped her fingers on her chin. “Do you know where, physically, your prior self is?”
“I can locate it. I’ll need a little time.”
“You’re not being compelled on this, are you?” Anora asked.
Igerne smiled. “No. That’s a question for the past.”
“Let me ask you one more question. At least for now. I have so many and not enough time.”
Igerne nodded her head.
“Do you remember what it’s like to be matron?”
25
Family Strife
LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM—
Owen watched Jeri wake up. Her eyes fluttered and then opened, unfocused. “Hey, kid,” Jeri said.
“Hey,” Owen said, getting up from his chair. He steeled himself.
“Where am I?”
“In a private hospital, near home. Where grandfather passed away.”
“It still smells the same.” Jeri sat up. “I feel terrible.” She rubbed her eyes. “What were we—Indiana?”
Owen nodded, recounting the story with as much detail as he could recall himself. His mind had been just as foggy, but he left out everything after the psychic assault that nearly wiped their minds.
“What about Indiana?” Jeri’s eyes narrowed.
“Indiana didn’t make it out of childbirth. It was a breech baby and the shock to her system was too much. Toxemia.”
“That’s bullshit. I want to see her body,” Jeri said, getting up.
Owen’s eyes grew hard. “You don’t believe me?”
“You learned at the foot of our mother. I know better.”
“Come on, then,” he said to Jeri.
Jeri got up, her bare feet touching the floor as she was escorted down the hall. She felt unsteady and placed her hand on Owen’s shoulder. The drugs in her system were burning out faster than he’d thought possible. He was right to caution the doctors on the changes to her metabolic rate. “Wait. My sash.” She turned back to the room, but Owen checked her. From his pocket, he drew out the long green strip of fabric. Jeri draped it over her shoulders.
“I thought you might want it, so I kept it for you,” Owen said.
“Thoughtful of you.” Jeri smiled. “Thanks.”
Owen nodded, remembering the conversation they’d had traveling over the Alps. It had been a gift from a lost lover, Owen knew, and he got the impression whoever it was had passed on. Jeri was tight-lipped when it came to her relationships, with women or men. She closed off a lot of her life to her family. She was wiser than Owen had once given her credit for.
They came to a darkened room where a sole nurse was turning off equipment. There were splotches of blood everywhere extending from Indiana’s groin down the sheet from the birth. The nurse gave Jeri a sympathetic look as she turned off the silent flatlined monitor. Jeri let go of Owen and stumbled to Indiana. Her face was gray and cold. Jeri caressed her face and her short hair. Indiana looked much younger in death, almost a child instead of the young woman she was. Jeri took Indiana’s wrist, checking for a pulse, then let go when she felt nothing.
Jeri seemed to fold into herself then. Her body, the body of an astronaut, of a swimmer, of an Avallach candidate, collapsed under the emotional loss of her friend. Jeri cried, and it moved Owen. He felt her bereavement. It was unbearable to see his sister this way, but he’d made Morgan a promise, a trade. He wondered if anyone would care as much about his death.
Jeri stood, trembling as she pushed her emotions back. “My rings,” she said. She wiped her eyes with her wrists.
“I have them,” Owen said, then said as an afterthought, “Mother doesn’t know.”
“I don’t give a damn what she knows!”
“But I do. You want her to know we’re on opposite sides?”
Jeri left the room. Owen nodded to the nurse, who busied herself once they left the room. Inducing a near-death coma wasn’t easy, but LaFayette Corporation was a leading pharmaceutical company, after all.
Jeri opened the closet and found her n-suit and clothing clean and folded neatly. Her portable pack was there as well. Owen grabbed the pack while she changed.
He powered up the system according to the instructions she’d given him during their travels. He felt the field around him, seducing him into reaching out. He rubbed Nornian, resisting the urge. To distract himself, he pulled out his phone and dialed Morgan’s number.
“Hello, Owen,” Morgan said. “Ready to return?”
“Yes,” Owen said. “I’ll check on her and leave instructions for transport to you. I was actually expecting to talk to Mara.”
“Oh? She has some information for you as well.”
“I’ll take the first flight out of Heathrow after I’ve buttoned things up here.”
“Do I send my Chevaliers to escort you?”
“No, I can make it on my own, Morg.”
Morgan hung up without a word. She had found use in him again, he thought. Somehow that left him no comfort.
The truth was Indiana had given him information. Before her coma had been induced, she’d spoken in fever dreams about Oracle. When she awoke, she had no memory of it. Owen checked and found some information that, in conjunction with Mara’s contacts, could lead them to Delphi and Oracle itself.
Jeri came out of the bathroom. “My rings.” Owen held Garuth out to her. She’d wrapped the scarf around her waist. None of the emotions that had wracked her in Indiana’s room were visible any longer. She was calm and composed. Muire Ann’s children had perfected the art of discipline and masking their true feelings. Jeri took the rings and put them on, and Owen immediately felt the prickle at the base of his neck. She was manifesting.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“I’m not afraid of what’s not there,” Jeri said. “Aren’t you going to?”
“She almost wiped my mind, Jer,” Owen replied.
Garuth appeared and the white blade was at his throat. “Prove it. If she’s gone, her powers are gone.”
“At the expense of my mind?”
“Yes.”
Owen frowned. Who was worse at this moment? Jeri or Morgan? Owen clenched his shaking left hand to still it for the time being. “You don’t have the guts to do it.”
Jeri waved her hand, slicing a lamp in half with a flick of her wrist. “Don’t fuck with me, Prime.”
Owen seized the waveform, power sluicing into his body. He brought Nornian up, countering Jeri’s blade. “Is this what you want?” He lunged at Jeri, who stepped back and countered his thrust. She dodged left and when he twisted his wrist, she was blocking him. He bore down on her, but she resisted. She was his height, so he didn’t have leverage, and if he overreached, she could counter. How well was she trained? He hadn’t fought her before, but she couldn’t have had much training. She stepped back and he advanced, making cross-body strikes that she countered with effort. His right leg gave out and he lost his balance, crashing into the wall that partitioned off the bathroom. Nornian went out.
Garuth blinked away as well. Jeri watched him as he struggled to his feet. He trembled and shook, unable to control himself. Her veneer broke and she reached out to help him up. He slapped her hand away. “I don’t need your help.”
“How long has this been going on?” Jeri asked, grabbing his upper arm to help him to the bed.
“Since before my Conditioning. It was gone until . . . until I fought her. Maybe she triggered something in me. Maybe my mind—” Owen sat on the bed. He released the waveform and everything was dark and dull. “Did you feel her?”
“Not at all,” Jeri admitted. “There was nothing. No compulsion, no presence. I couldn’t feel her at all.”
“Satisfied?”
“That’s not a question I can answer,” Jeri said. She hugged Owen until his left hand stopped trembling and the numbness in his leg faded. He felt like himself after a while. It felt good, this embrace from his only sister.
“What’re you going to do?” he asked.
“I’m going back. I came to find what I wanted, but I was too late.” Jeri ran her fingers through her hair. She had a worried look. “You won’t believe what I’m working on.”
“Do tell,” Owen said, mustering joviality.
“Not on your life.”
Owen smiled. He returned the hug.
“I’m sorry again. Do we have to be on opposite sides?” Jeri asked.
“You’ll have to ask Morgan. She seems to think so.”
Jeri’s jaw clenched. “I should have a talk with her.”
“Good luck with that.”
Jeri thought about it. “At least I’ll let Kai know. She’d want to know about Indiana.”
Owen nodded at that but wasn’t sure why it mattered if Kai knew about Indiana’s death.
Jeri got up and pulled on her Burberry. “I don’t think we’ll see each other again, kid.”
Owen stood. “You don’t think so?”
Jeri shook her head. “I’m staying out of whatever it is you feel you have to do. By the looks of it, you don’t have much time left before you’re out of the fight yourself.”
Owen nodded at that. He looked down at his hand. How much time did he have? “I’d really not like to fight you again, ma sœur.”
“Nor I, petit frère,” Jeri said.
Jeri paused, lost in thought for a moment, and Owen found a deep sadness in the pit of his stomach. Something about Jeri’s tone was truly final.
“I wish we’d gone up the slopes before finding her,” Owen said.
“I do, too, but we can’t all have what we want. Not anymore,” Jeri said. She kissed Owen on both cheeks and hugged him tightly. “Don’t be the monster everyone thinks you are.”
She turned to go and Owen caught her hand one more time. Her other hand was on the portable grid. If he wanted to, he could end her right now. Get rid of another Avallach asset. If. He thought of Leto and his own mother, and of Indiana and her daughter. His hand stopped shaking and she squeezed back.
“Take care of yourself, Jeri. There’s a car waiting for you.”
“You too, Owen.”
* * *
Jeri got into the limousine. A woman sat across from her with a bundle.
“I’m sorry, I got into the wrong—”
Freya smiled. “No, this is the right car. She doesn’t need changing and I just gave her a bottle, so she should be good for a couple of hours.”
“What?”
“The baby,” the woman said, motioning to the bundle, which turned out to be an infant car seat. “Keep her out of the cold. She’s not premature, but you don’t want her to catch pneumonia. Any questions?”
Jeri moved over to the baby and looked down at her. She wore a pink onesie and hat. Her brown hands were in fists, and she yawned and opened her eyes. They were bright blue and focused on Jeri’s face—or somewhere her face should have been. Newborn vision wasn’t that good.
