Линда Нагата - Edges

*We’re going dark , he told Clemantine. *Watch. Learn how it’s done.

He released a quiet suggestion to the philosopher cells:

– stealth –

The cells picked up on his caution, debated it, and sought a solution:

*It’s beginning , Clemantine said.

Urban sensed it too. The conversion started at the ship’s bow as a cluster of cells dropped out of the conversation. Their metabolism shifted: biochemical preparations underway as they made ready for stasis. Their luminosity bled away. They became dark, triggering other cells around them to do the same. Darkness spread, moving outward across the hull in a slow wave, encircling the ship from bow to stern until the luminosity of every cell faded to nothing and silence replaced their long conversation.

*I didn’t think I’d miss it , Clemantine said. *But it feels like part of my mind is shut down.

*Sooth, that’s what’s happened.

In the earliest days, Urban had taken the ship dark just for a respite from the hateful nature of the cells. Even then, he’d found the transition disorienting, leaving an anxious void in his mind.

*The dialog mentioned a pilot , Clemantine said. *Our pilot? The Apparatchik?

*No. When I hijacked the ship, I found a secondary mind, singular, and subordinate to the philosopher cells. It performed navigation functions when the cells were dormant, so the bridge translates its name as ‘the pilot.’

*You took over its role. You can steer the ship when the cells are dark.

*Sooth. I was able to co-opt an existing behavioral path. Same with the suggestion to go dark. I could have forced it, but I let the cells make the choice. That way, they’re prepared. They understand the strategy. When I wake them, they’ll be ready to fight.

*If it comes to a fight.

Until then, Dragon would be dark and—with luck—undetectable by whatever entity had engineered the beacon. Of course, there was a cost. With the cells dormant, he would lose their close oversight of the Near Vicinity. But he had access to other Chenzeme senses, and he had cameras and telescopes across the fleet. Dragon would not be blind.

In the library, Urban listened as Clemantine explained to Kona and Vytet what had transpired on the high bridge. She concluded, “The philosopher cells expect to come out of dormancy close to the source of the beacon, in position to launch an attack.”

“ No ,” Vytet said with a look of shock.

Kona turned his stern gaze on Urban. “That’s not what you mean to do?”

Clemantine answered him, sounding irritated, “Of course not. We’re not here to continue Chenzeme genocide.”

A blunt response that made Urban smile. He said, “Going dark is precautionary. I think the beacon marks something dangerous, something stronger than we are—or the Chenzeme would have already destroyed it. But there it is. That signal—bold, taunting. A lure. The bait in a trap to draw in the curious, the unwary.”

“Or maybe the genocidal?” Vytet suggested, her thoughtful gaze resting on Urban. “Maybe it’s aimed at Chenzeme ships. It would have pulled in this one, if not for your guidance.”

“Huh,” Urban grunted. “If that’s so, we’re a prime target.” He straightened his shoulders, looked around their small circle. “Our safest option is to stay dark, continue on, continue our own hunt, and hope it doesn’t notice us.”

Vytet’s avatar suddenly changed in appearance. She retained her light-blue skin tone, but her delicate features became bolder and more stark so that she presented the strong face of a mature woman. “We can’t just pass it by,” she said, her voice now a lower register. “We are here to learn, to discover. That’s the purpose of this voyage.”

Kona looked wary. “And it’s a dangerous choice to leave such an unknown behind us.”

Clemantine wasn’t fooled. A skeptical smile, her fine eyebrows raised: “Urban, when did you ever take the safest option?”

He turned his hands palm up. “I’m older and wiser now.”

She rolled her eyes.

“No, really,” he insisted with a laugh. “Here’s what I want to do. For now, we only watch and listen. Let time pass. If nothing changes, we’ll modify our course. We’ll still keep our distance from the beacon, but we’ll pass more closely than our current trajectory allows. And I’ll send an outrider ahead of us. I’ll take it in close, see what I can see—and hope we get data back.”

“You’re willing to risk another outrider?” Vytet asked.

“It’s better than risking Dragon .”

Kona said, “We should observe it for an extended time before we do anything. Fifty, sixty days at least.”

“Or longer,” Urban answered, amused that Kona could describe such a flicker of time as extended .

To Urban’s surprise, Vytet objected. “Why wait?” she demanded. “If we’re going to risk an outrider, let’s send it now—and we’ll know sooner what we’re facing.”

“Why take the risk of alerting it?” Urban countered. “We don’t know its capabilities. What if it senses the outrider’s reef? What if it extrapolates its trajectory back to us? Better to wait and watch and see if there’s anything we can learn before we risk revealing our presence. There’s time. We just need to be patient.”

At this, Clemantine drew back with a look of exaggerated surprise. “Older and wiser, you say? Maybe it’s true.”

Urban monitored the beacon. As time passed he realized his initial impression had been wrong. The signal was not an endless repetition of the same location data. There had to be, at minimum, some minor machine intelligence at work, capable of precise navigation, because at regular intervals the location data shifted slightly to compensate for relative motion measured against the four guide stars.

Interesting.

The telescope array failed to resolve an object but that meant little. The site was so far away that the beacon would have to be immense and radiating brightly to be seen.

He remained cautious, employing both cameras and telescopes in a constant survey of the Near Vicinity, alert for any sign of an incursion by a stealthed object. He detected none.

He adopted a machinelike patience and waited one hundred days.

Then he engaged the Pilot to plot a new heading, preparing to shift Dragon ’s course as he had promised to do—though he left the actual task as an exercise for Clemantine.

For the first time, she took direct control of Dragon ’s steerage engines and slowly, slowly, the massive ship slid onto a new trajectory.

Afterward, as he lay with her, adrift in her chamber, bathed in the shimmering light of wall-weed, he confessed, “I’ve been looking over the profiles of the archived ghosts.”

This drew a soft cynical laugh. “Found an old lover among them?”

“ Is there one?” he wondered.

“Do your own research, son.”

He slid his fingers across the curve of her cheek. “Vytet wants to go with me to the beacon.”

“She’s planning to go,” Clemantine corrected.

“She’s an engineer.”

Clemantine turned her head to meet his gaze. “So?”

The outrider’s computational strata could support two ghosts, no more.

He said, “I don’t need an engineer. I need an anthropologist. If the beacon is inhabited, it could be an advantage to have an expert on hand.”