Zachary Rawlins - The Anathema

“Mark is contemplating the Outer Dark, as he always does. I do not believe that he will ever leave it again, though he does still live. He has found something, and sometimes, he tries to explain some of it to us. From the words he speaks, we have occasionally been able to fashion tools. Mark is still translating the old language, Gaul.”

“I assumed as much. There were a few survivors who heard part of a terrible word, a word that ate their minds out from the inside, during the first part of the attack,” Gaul said, shaking his head. “Mark must have gone mad years ago. Moreover, you must have, too, if you are trying to do what I think you are. Really, John, have you looked at your company? Weir? Even Witches?”

“You being bitter,” John said lightly. “I have subjugated a small number of Witches already, and more will follow. They are uniquely vulnerable to telepathy under duress; once you learn the techniques it is actually quite simple. Nevertheless, they are just tools, Gaul, a means to an end. It must bother you, the war you’ve been fighting for lifetimes, that I could end it so easily. Surely, you see it now? What we have discovered, the Outer Dark, those technologies you deem forbidden, they hold the key to the world we always wanted Gaul. No more fighting between Operators. An end to the war. No mass introduction of nanites to the population at large, no accommodation with the Witches. Just victory and a better world.”

“A better world?” Gaul demanded incredulously. “You can’t be serious. The Hegemony lost two-thirds of their cartel leadership. The Black Sun lost two full combat brigades. Not counting all the civilians you massacred in Central. I’ve seen the things you’ve made out of the Operators that followed you, the walking corpses you’ve created. No, I’m afraid that our definition of a better world is radically different, John. I assume you are here for the Source Well? I’m afraid you won’t be going any further.”

“You think that you can stop me?” John Parson asked as if he was genuinely curious, taking a step toward the door behind Gaul. “I can see that you are exhausted, you know. You’ve been overworking that marvelous brain of yours, and you’ve used too many downloaded protocols.”

“Nonetheless,” Gaul said firmly, crossing his arms. “I can stop you. And I believe that you know that.”

John Parson paused and looked at Gaul, evaluating. Gaul’s pink eyes were even more bloodshot than usual, and his skin was pale and feverish, his forehead glistened with sweat. He’d slept in the shirt and pants he was wearing, and they were wrinkled and dirty. He looked tired beyond any measure, but he didn’t look afraid. He looked both confident and resigned. John Parson sighed theatrically, and then stepped back.

“Perhaps you could, at that,” John said, with a small smile, “though don’t be certain that you have my measure anymore, Gaul. But, perhaps a deal, then, instead of a confrontation?”

Gaul couldn’t hide his surprise, though the break in his composure was momentary.

“Let us say,” John suggested, rummaging through his robes to emerge with what looked like an empty wine bottle, “that I were to simply take as much as I can pour into this bottle here, and then depart, with all of my servants, peacefully? What would you say to that?”

“I can stop you,” Gaul insisted, “so why would I allow you anything? That bottle could hold enough nanite doses for a few hundred introductions. Why would I allow you that kind of power?”

“Because there is something you haven’t considered. My people haven’t been slaughtering the population of Central, Gaul, they’ve been gathering them,” John Parson said modestly. “Thus far, most of them remain alive and well. As long as I am satisfied with the outcome, they will live. However, if you were to try to stop me — and I am far from certain that you could — I will simply return to the Outer Dark with them, to use as fodder for my experiments, instead of the nanites. We can do remarkable things with Operators in the flesh-pits, you see.”

There was a pause while Gaul did the math, and checked the probability streams, looking for flaws, alternatives, traps. Then his shoulders slumped.

“Alright,” Gaul said, holding out his hand. “But I fill the bottle. You watch. You don’t even go in the same room as the Source Well.”

“Deal,” John said, with a toothy grin. “You see, Gaul? Even you can be reasonable, when you have the proper motivation.”

Gaul didn’t say anything. He walked to the doorway and John trailed behind him. The room on the other side was small, five meters in diameter, and roughly circular. A stone well was set in the center of the room, the narrow mouth capped with a flagstone. Gaul turned back to check that John remained by the door, and then, once he was satisfied, pushed the flagstone aside. He took a dipper from the side of the stone well, and filled the bottle with it, careful to make sure the excess water dripped back into the well. It looked no different from any other water, but both men knew it was rich in dormant nanites, nanites that would only function once introduced into a living being.

“The Rosicrucian?” Gaul asked contemptuously, carefully tipping the dipper so that the water poured into the half-full bottle. “Really, John. Your flair for the dramatic is getting the best of you.”

“I told you, it was a joke, a joke meant for you,” John protested, holding up his hands. “It’s not like I actually make people call me that.”

“So you found things at the Outer Dark. Language, technology — but no nanites? No Source Well of your own?”

John hesitated for a moment before his smile returned.

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” John admitted. “It’s really the only thing we lack. With this, I can complete my experiments, and build an army that you will not be able to stop. You know that, right, Gaul? When I return, there will be no fighting the Anathema.”

“Looks to me like we did alright,” Gaul said, continuing to fill the bottle. “If it wasn’t for Alistair’s treachery, you might have been defeated entirely. Your people didn’t hold up very well against the Auditors.”

“Don’t be a fool,” John said, laughing. “Only young Leigh was one of my creations. And if Mitsuru Aoki is your queen, old friend, then she just stalemated with one of my pawns. Unless you have a better piece hidden somewhere, just waiting for the right moment to place it on the board, hmm?”

“Maybe,” Gaul said, shrugging.

“Tell me then,” John encouraged. “Who would you have stand against me? Your chief Auditor is mine, Rebecca Levy is paralyzed until I say otherwise, and whatever promise Mitsuru Aoki showed decades ago, you have squandered it. Whom else would you look to? Surely not to that abomination the Martynova clan has produced, Anastasia? You know as well as I do that whatever the secret of her protocol, that it is deviant. She belongs with us, not you. Or, perhaps, your hopes rest on the narrow shoulders of one Alexander Warner?”

“You ask a lot of questions, John. You always did.”

“You can’t really expect to make an Auditor of the boy before I return,” John said forcefully, “and who is to say, old friend, that I won’t be able to take him from you before then?”

“Leigh is impressive,” Gaul admitted, still bent over the well. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to leave her at the Academy for proper instruction?”

John’s robust laughter echoed through the small stone room.

“Perhaps not this time. When I return, though, we can talk again, once some changes are made to Central and to the Academy. Besides, are you really so eager to harbor your enemies? How can you continue to allow Alice Gallow to remain an Auditor, when you know how badly I have compromised her? Would you like to know the truth about her, Gaul? What she really is?”