The Dreamtrails (77 page)

When at last I reached the mountains, I saw that the light was coming from a dark tunnel. I entered it and heard the slow dripping of water into water. A female voice commanded me to stop.

“You must not enter this place,” said the soft, smooth voice. “It is forbidden.”

“Who are you?” I cried.

“I am INES,” said the voice.

I woke to find the sun not far above the horizon. The dawn light seemed oddly dull to me, but before I could do more than wonder idly at it, Rawen nuzzled me gently.

I sat up warily, surprised to find there was no pain. I asked Rawen how she had found me.

“The boy Pellis beastspoke the herd to ask if one of us would watch over you. I/Rawen freerunner said that I would come,” she answered. “I wakened you now because the funaga child/Pellis beastspoke me to say that the funaga/Orys wishes to farseek your mind.”

Remembering all that had happened before I slept, I farsought Orys, who immediately apologized for being unable to hold the probe.

“You were exhausted and you warned me,” I sent, surprised to find that his mind, like mine, was fresh and free of strain. But then I looked at the sun, understanding that what I had taken for dawn was dusk. I had slept the entire day away. I leapt to my feet, horrified.

“Do not be concerned, Guildmistress,” Orys farsent calmly. “I slept long, too, and I was worried when I wakened. But before I slept, Kader took from my mind the memories of what had happened. All that you asked was done and more besides. In truth, we were no use to anyone as we were.”

“Tell me what has been happening. Have the Faction and the soldierguards crossed the river?” I demanded, hastening back into the ruins, Rawen walking beside me. Out of courtesy, I left a probe in her mind so she could hear our exchange.

“They crossed about an hour after we spoke to Merret. She could not send a probe here to the ruins, of course. She contacted
Kader, who had set off for Followtown to join her. Kader bounced the sending back to Jana, who had taken the watch. Merret told her that Rolf had sent word that he was gathering fighters, and while waiting for him, she coerced two more Hedra and made them overcome a senior soldierguard and strip the demon band off him. So he was coerced as well.”

“What is happening on the other side of the river?”

“Merret said that the fighting and the burning continue and that there have been a couple of explosions. In the end, the explosions made the Hedra decide to cross, for they claim the explosions are the result of their weapons,” Orys answered. “There has been no news since, though Jana tried, but Kader must be too far away for her now. That is why they need us. Oh, you should also know that Ran led a host of horses out soon after dawn, but they had not arrived when Merret farsought Kader and Jana.”

I had not seen Jana since my arrival in the ruins.

“She has been with Gwynedd,” Orys said, taking the thought as a question. “One of us is always with him. Alun took her place.”

“Has Alun sent word of Gwynedd’s response to all this?” I asked.

“Jana told us he was elated and more than eager to join Merret,” Orys sent. “But he saw the sense in Merret’s suggestions, and he has left her to take the riverbank as he sets about rousing a force to hold the river once it is won. Jana is about to ride after Kader, and Dell had Seely wake me and send me to wake you so we can use her to find out what is happening at the river.”

“I understand,” I said. So much had happened while I slept, and in truth I was somewhat indignant that I had been
allowed to miss it all. But Orys was right in saying that he and I would have been useless. I suspected, however, that I had not been awakened because west coast Misfits had simply become accustomed to relying on themselves.

Rawen sent, “Do you wish me to carry you after the herd, ElspethInnle?”

She had scented my restlessness and desire to take some part in the unfolding events. It felt very strange to be on the fringe of what was happening. Part of me would have loved to leap on the mare’s back and ride to the Suggredoon, but it would take many hours to reach Followtown, and they had no real need of me. I could as easily learn what was happening by farseeking. A picture came into my mind of Domick as I had last seen him, plague-ravaged and anguished, and I shook my head.

“My place is here for the moment,” I told the mare, thanking her for her offer and for watching over me. She sent that she would return to what remained of the freerunning herd but bade me summon her if I needed a mount. Again I thanked her and then farsent to ask Orys where Jana was.

“She is below getting ready to go.”

“I will get her,” I said. “I want to check on Domick, in any case.”

I made my way to the entrance to the Beforetime complex’s lower levels. Reaching the elevating chamber, I suppressed my unease and went through the rituals I had seen the others do, pressing the appropriate bars of color. Cassy and the other Beforetimers had lived in a world surrounded by such devices as elevating chambers and flying vehicles, and I wondered how they had endured such complexity.

The elevating chamber stopped, and I stepped out into the passage and turned in the direction that Dell had brought me.
I remembered we had turned left, then right, but I was startled to find myself in a passage that forked, for one way had a blue line on the floor.

Knowing I had definitely not come this way, I realized I must have made a mistake. I turned back with irritation, but before long, I found myself facing three passages, none of which I had ever set eyes on before. I was lost.

I retraced my steps, trying to farseek Jak or even Seely, because although it would be impossible to farseek between the building’s levels, the walls on each level were not so thick as to defy a probe. Only after I had tried six or seven times to no avail did the truth hit me. I had not just lost my way on the seventeenth floor; I had exited on the wrong level!

A chill ran through me as I thought of Dell explaining that they had not explored much of the thirty levels and only used three floors regularly. Mouth dry, I tried returning to the elevating chamber, but I had been so preoccupied that I could not recall my route with any accuracy. I cursed aloud, and the sound of my voice echoed eerily. I tried to control my alarm, but I became increasingly confused. I could feel myself beginning to panic in spite of the situation’s absurdity. Forcing myself to slow down and take a few long deep breaths, I reminded myself that it was only a matter of time before the others began to search for me, but I could not help thinking of the weight of dark earth over my head.

I had promised Orys to return. He must be wondering what had become of me, and the others would not think to search until he went down to ask where I was. He might not hasten to do so, given that I had told him I wanted to see Domick first.

I walked, praying I would simply happen on the elevating chamber again, but as the hours passed, I began to feel
oppressed by the shining sameness of the long silent corridors with their vague light. I opened one door to find a cavernous room with a plast floor made to look like polished wood with thick white and green overlapping lines and circles drawn onto it. At either end of the room was a metal pole with a metal ring fixed to the top. I could not imagine what purpose they or the room could have served. When I opened a smaller door in the room, I was grateful to find a privy in a room containing several glass bathing boxes like the one in my sleeping chamber. I relieved myself and then managed to quench my thirst in the bathing chamber, at the price of a wetting.

Calmer now, though ravenously hungry, I went back to the passage and continued along it. Surely the others were searching for me, I told myself wearily; surely someone would guess what had happened and go from level to level, farseeking me at each.

Upon opening the door to a room contaning several computermachines, I realized that I had been a fool. Jak had said one only had to speak anywhere within the complex for Ines to hear. I could ask the computermachine to let the others know I was lost, or even tell me the way back to the elevating chamber.

“Ines, can you hear me?” I asked aloud.

“I hear,” came the pleasant female voice of my dream.

I expelled a long breath of air and said, “Ines, will you please direct me back to the elevating chamber?”

“Proceed in the direction you are walking; pass three corridors on your left, and then enter the fourth …”

As I progressed, the computermachine guiding me with marvelous calm competence, the voice asked, “What form of address would you prefer?”

I wanted to answer that it was not to use my name, for
there was something uncanny about the thought of a machine speaking it, but it seemed discourteous to say that when it was helping me. As I hesitated, it occurred to me that it was not just a request for information, because the others had spoken my name many times since I had entered the complex. It was, in fact, a sophisticated courtesy the computermachine extended, for it was asking permission. It struck me that if Ines could hear her name spoken anywhere in the complex, it could also hear all else that was said. It must have heard Jak telling me he did not regard her as human and Dell and Seely telling me they thought of her as alive. Of course, a computer program could not feel glad or resentful of what it heard, but nevertheless, I felt uneasy. I was also aware that I had switched back and forth between thinking of Ines as a machine and as a female, which revealed my own ambiguous feelings on the matter.

The computermachine was still waiting for my response. “You may call me Elspeth, Ines,” I said finally, for it would be no less strange to be called Guildmistress.

“Thank you, Elspeth,” Ines responded composedly.

“Why do you thank me?” I asked, for the expressing of gratitude in that polite way seemed very odd, coming from a machine.

“Permission to use a name implies a certain level of trust,” Ines answered. “I also know that it is difficult for an organic intelligence in this time to communicate easily with a computer; therefore, I thank you for your trust.”

I took a long deep breath, marveling that a machine could reason so, even taking account of emotions. “I suppose it was different in the Beforetime,” I said.

“Please input the meaning of the word
Beforetime
, Elspeth,” Ines responded.

Input?
I thought, taken aback.
Is that the machine’s way of saying
put in?
But put the meaning of the word where and how?
Then I remembered Dell telling me that Ines could explain how to use her. “How do I input meaning?” I asked.

“You may use any keyboard within the complex to type in a definition of the word
Beforetime
, or you can speak the definition now, and I will commit it to my working memory. If you wish, I can add the definition to my permanent memory.”

I felt dizzy trying to grasp the meaning of so many unfamiliar terms. Surely the machine had heard the others use the term
Beforetime
. Perhaps it sought to add my explanation to the others it must have, to better define it. Something in the tone of the questions implied a finicky sort of precision. Finally, I said, “The Beforetime is the time before the Great …” I stopped, realizing that the computer would probably not understand the words
Great White
any more than it had understood the word
Beforetime
. I tried again. “Beforetime is the … the period of time in which humans lived, before the destruction of that time.” I stopped, frustrated by the ugly inadequacy of my explanation. Then I had an inspiration. “The Beforetime is the world that existed in the time when you were made, Ines.”

There was a long silence during which she did no more than instruct me to make this or that turn. The distance I had covered with her guidance made me realize how far I had managed to worm my way into this level. Finally, I asked, “Did you hear what I said about the Beforetime, Ines?”

“I heard your words, Elspeth. I am comparing this definition to other definitions of the Beforetime, in an attempt to refine my understanding of the meaning.”

I had a sudden vivid memory of a conversation with the teknoguilder Reul, in which he had said that it was the ability
of computers to ask questions—an ability given them originally only in order to help them deal with incomplete or inadequate information—that made them unlike other tools created by humans. For a long time, computermachines had only been able to ask questions of humans, but then someone had the idea of connecting computermachines so they could seek information from one another. That, according to Reul, had changed everything. It meant that computermachines had been able to learn from other computermachines, and they could also ask questions of one another about the information they exchanged.

The teknoguilder had also made the point that a computer’s curiosity was not like that of a human or an animal. A machine’s curiosity of a machine was rational and logical, striving to complete or extend knowledge; therefore, while more reliable and thorough in its method, the machine would lack the inspired leaps of intuition that could carry a human or a beast over a vast gap in knowledge, or from knowledge to new knowledge. This “leap of faith,” as Reul had put it, could not be made by a computermachine, because it was created to be rational, not emotional. Bringing together the rational intelligence and knowledge that computers possessed with the potent and enigmatic irrational power of emotion experienced by living creatures produced the brightest and most original thoughts, the most wondrous and brilliant answers. What he had been saying, I suddenly understood, was that the best thinking happened when computers and humans combined their efforts.

The trouble was that Ines had spoken of being grateful for my trust. Wasn’t gratitude an emotion? Or was the emotion simulated just as Ines’s pleasant, ubiquitous voice simulated a human’s?

“May I ask you a question, Elspeth?” Ines suddenly asked.

Surprised, I said, “Yes, Ines.”

“Thank you, Elspeth. Can you define
made
as in your statement:
The Beforetime is the world that existed in the time when you were made, Ines.
”