Gary Gibson - The Thousand Emperors

Luc shuddered inwardly. ‘How bad is it?’

‘Impossible to say. Remember, this was fast, sloppy work – Antonov was improvising when he did this.’

‘So it’s not like I’m carrying the whole of his thoughts and memories inside me. He can’t . . . take me over, or anything like that?’ He had to force the words out.

She laughed. ‘Hardly. You can’t just dump a copy of someone’s mind into a living, breathing human body with pre-existing cognitive structures.’

‘But that’s what he did, isn’t it?’

‘True, but the outcome is proving far from beneficial for either party.’

‘The Sandoz Clans do it, don’t they? And you. You’re a Councillor. If you die, you can be reborn in a clone body.’

‘Yes, a clone body, heavily modified with an in situ lattice of its own from the moment of its inception in a growth tank. The clone body must be created from your own DNA as well.’

‘And I don’t have a clone-body ready to jump into.’

‘Precisely. And unless I can find a way to retard this thing’s growth, all you have to look forward to, I’m afraid, is madness followed by death.’

Luc stared at her, a sick feeling building inside him. ‘Isn’t there anyone else in the Council you could talk to in confidence about this? Someone who understands how lattices work?’

‘Well, there’s Rowena Engberg, and also Cutler Suszynski. They developed the lattice technology together. Engberg still runs the clinic that engineers all of the Council’s lattices. Unfortunately, they’re both loyal Eighty-Fivers. They’d hand both our heads to Cheng on a plate in a flat instant if we approached them.’

‘The Ambassador knew I was there, at Vasili’s service. He could see me. He said my lattice is far in advance of anything the Tian Di can make.’

De Almeida nodded distractedly. ‘Yes, you told me already.’

‘So where the hell could Antonov have got this thing inside me from ?’

She said nothing, and he guessed she had no more idea than he did.

‘I asked you before for access to Vanaheim’s global security network. I think maybe it’s time you finally gave it to me.’

To Luc’s astonishment, she didn’t even argue or scoff at the request this time. Instead, she held a hand up towards him, palm out, and after a moment he saw a single bright flash of light, centred on her palm.

Suddenly he was aware of things he had never been aware of until that moment, and yet which felt as if they had always been known to him. The feeling was extraordinary – like stumbling across a part of his mind he had never noticed before.

‘Done,’ she said. ‘You now have limited access to Vanaheim’s global security, but that access is funnelled through me. I’ll be aware of everything you do.’

‘Limited in what way?’

‘It’s restricted to the Ambassador’s movements only. You’ll be able to see where he goes, and when. Give it a try.’

‘How?’

‘Picture him. The lattice will pinpoint his location and filter the appropriate A/V data to you.’

Luc closed his eyes and pictured Ambassador Sachs, as he had been on board the Sequoia . Within moments he found himself looking at a low, one-storey building spread across a few acres in the centre of a forest clearing.

‘I can see a building, but not the Ambassador.’

‘You’re seeing through the eyes of one of my micro-mechants currently in his vicinity. Just tell it to move in closer.’

He nodded and tried again.

The view jumped as the tiny machine lifted from its perch and swooped in low towards the building. Luc caught sight of a ground-to-orbit flier in the process of dropping onto a landing area to one side of the building, halfway between it and the trees. The sunlight passing through the craft’s AG field shimmered with rainbow colours.

The Ambassador emerged from the spacecraft as Luc watched, making his way towards a second flier parked at the other end of the landing area. He still wore his mirror mask and hood, even though he was alone – something which made him seem even more otherworldly than he already did.

‘Just how many of these micro-mechants do you have scattered all across Vanaheim?’ asked Luc.

‘A lot,’ de Almeida replied.

The viewpoint shifted again as the tiny mechant buzzed several metres closer. Luc saw the Ambassador board the second flier. It lifted up almost immediately, sending dead leaves spinning into the air as it ascended.

He’s in a hurry , thought Luc. Ambassador Sachs must have departed the Sequoia only shortly after he himself had. And now he was on his way somewhere else.

‘You’re telling me the Council seriously don’t mind you being able to see every damn thing they’re up to like this?’ he asked, keeping his eyes closed.

‘Apart from the Eighty-Five, you mean?’ She laughed dryly. ‘The system is set up so they’re aware if I’m watching, or can find out easily enough. That way I’m accountable for everything I do.’

So you say , thought Luc. The micro-mechant had lifted its lens to follow the flier as it dwindled into a deepening blue sky.

‘So what do you do if you need to know what they’re up to, but you don’t want them to know?’

‘I spy on them regardless.’

Luc opened his eyes and looked up at her. ‘And they’re seriously all right with that?’

‘If I can prove at a later date that it was necessary to do so, of course,’ she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Privacy is always respected, but there are times when such things do prove necessary. You can get up now,’ she added, standing back.

Luc swayed a little as he stood upright. He reached up to touch the side of his head, and when he brought his hand back down found it speckled with blood.

‘Somewhere I can wash up?’

She nodded towards a sink and tap a few metres away. ‘Over there.’

Luc ran lukewarm water across his stubbled scalp and down the back of his neck. He glanced up at a mirror over the sink and saw de Almeida putting her roll of instruments away, but started when he realized the exact same hunched figure still stood in the same corner he had seen it days before. He froze, chilled by the sight.

‘Zelia,’ he said, without taking his eyes off the creature, ‘I really want to know just what that thing is.’

De Almeida looked around, confused, then walked across the laboratory until she could see the same pathetic hunched figure.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘does that bother you?’

Luc turned from the sink to stare at her, appalled beyond belief. ‘Doesn’t it bother you ?’

She shrugged. ‘He’s nothing. A criminal, a malcontent.’

Luc studied her features, entirely free of guilt or empathy. These are the people you chose to serve , he reminded himself.

‘Just tell me who he is,’ he demanded, his voice ragged. ‘He’s been standing there for . . . for days . What the hell could he have done, to deserve winding up like that?’

Her mouth pinched up. ‘Damn it, Gabion, these are people who’ve been sentenced to death. I can make good use of them this way.’

‘Make use of them?’ Luc laughed, but it was a dismal, half-choked sound by the time it emerged from his throat.

‘You don’t approve?’