“What is it you have to say?”
“Am I talking to this planet’s authorities, the Saldana Princess?”
“Yes. She’s on-line.”
“Good. Then I say this: You almost managed to exterminate us last night, and if our fight continues along those same lines
today then a great many people will be killed, a situation neither of us would welcome. Therefore I propose a standoff solution.
We will keep Mortonridge for ourselves, and I pledge none of us will leave it. If you do not believe me, and I expect trust
to be lacking on your part, you have the physical power to set up a blockade across the neck of this land where it joins the
continent.”
“No deal,” Princess Kirsten datavised. “The Kingdom will not abandon its subjects,” Ralph said out loud. “You ought to know
that by now.”
“We acknowledge the Kingdom’s strength,” Annette Ekelund said. “And that is why we propose this ceasefire. The outcome of
the struggle between the living and our kind will not be decided by what transpires here. We are too evenly matched. However,
not every Confederation planet is as advanced or as competent as Ombey.” She raised her head, closing her eyes as she did
so, looking blindly up at the sky. “Out there is where both our fates are being decided right now. You, like I, will have
to wait for the outcome to be determined by others. We know that we will triumph. Just as your misplaced faith tells you that
the living will be victorious.”
“So you’re saying we should just sit it out on the sidelines?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t even have to ask the security committee for their opinion on that one. We’re not the sideline, we’re the front line,
we are a major part of the struggle against you. If we can show other planets that it is possible to stop you from spreading,
banish you from the bodies you’ve captured, then they will have faith in their own ability.”
Annette Ekelund nodded sadly. “I understand. Princess Saldana, I have tried reason; now I must use something stronger to convince
you.”
“Ralph, our satellite sensors just came back on-line,” Deborah Unwin reported. “We can see a lot of movement down there. Oh,
Christ, they’re swarming out of the houses. Ralph, get out of there. Now. Do it now! Run.”
But he stood his ground. He knew the Ekelund woman wasn’t threatening him personally. This was to be a demonstration. The
one he’d anticipated, and dreaded all along.
“Do you want ground-strike support?” Admiral Farquar datavised.
“Not yet, sir.” His enhanced retinas showed him doors opening all the way along the street, people emerging onto the pavements.
At Ekelund’s invisible signal, the possessed were bringing out their hostages. The illusory bodies on display were deliberately
gaudy, ranging from historical warlords to fictitious creatures, blighted monsters and necromantic demigods. Fantasies chosen
to emphasise the impossible gulf between them and their frightened prisoners.
Each of the sorcerous apparitions was paired with one of Exnall’s surviving non-possessed residents. Like their captors, they
were a cross section of the community, young and old, male and female; dressed in nightgowns, pyjamas, hurriedly thrown on
shirts, even naked. Some struggled, the diehards and the fatalists; but most had been tyrannized into obedience.
The possessed restrained them with the greatest of ease as they hustled them forwards, their energistic ability giving them
a mechanoid’s strength. Children wailed fearfully as they were gripped by hands and claws as hard as stone. Men grimaced in
subdued fury.
A symphony of cries and hopeless shouts laid siege to Ralph’s ears.
“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled at Ekelund. His arm swept around. “For Christ’s sake, you’re hurting them.”
“This is not all,” Annette Ekelund said impassively. “Tell your people to look four kilometres south-west of the town at a
lake called Otsuo. There is an abandoned offroad camper there belonging to one of Exnall’s residents.”
“Hang on, Ralph,” Deborah Unwin datavised. “We’re scanning now. Yep, there’s a vehicle parked there all right. Registered
to a Hanly Nowell, he works at an agrichemical plant in the town’s industrial precinct.”
“Okay,” Ralph said. “It’s there. Now tell your people to ease off those hostages.”
“No, Ralph,” Annette Ekelund said. “They will not ease off. What I am trying to make clear to you is the fact that we have
spread beyond this town. I could only know where the vehicle was if I ordered the driver to leave it there. And it is not
the only one, not from this town nor the others. We have escaped the clutches of your marines, Ralph. I organized the four
towns which the Longhound bus visited very carefully; we were busy last night while you were chasing after the possessed in
Pasto. My followers spread out along the whole peninsula; on foot, on horseback, on bikes, in manual control vehicles. Even
I don’t know where they all are any more. The marines barricading the towns are worthless. Now you will have to block off
Mortonridge in its entirety to prevent us from contaminating the rest of the continent.”
“No problem.”
“I’m sure. But you’ll never retake this land from us, not now. You can’t even claim back this single town, not without committing
genocide. You’ve already seen what a single one of us can achieve when we have to defend ourselves. Imagine that destructive
power focused with evil intent. Suburban fusion plants ruptured, hospitals incinerated, day clubs crashing down on their young
occupants. So far we have never killed anyone, but if we chose to do so, if you leave us with no alternative, this planet
will suffer enormously.”
“Monster!”
“And I’ll do it, Ralph. I’ll give the order for my followers to start the campaign. It will come right after my order for
every non-possessed in Exnall to be murdered. They’re going to be killed right here on the streets in front of you, Ralph.
We will crush their skulls, snap their necks, strangle them, cut their bellies open and leave them to bleed to death.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“No, you don’t want to believe me, Ralph. There is a difference.” Her voice became smooth, taunting him. “What have we got
to lose? These people you see around you will join us one way or the other. That is what I’m trying to tell you. Either their
bodies will be possessed, or they will die and possess in turn. Please, Ralph, don’t allow yourself and others to suffer because
of your stupid beliefs.
We will win.”
Ralph wanted to kill her, hating and fearing the serene way she talked about slaughter, knowing she wasn’t bluffing. The most
basic human urge, to wipe out your enemy hard and fast, came firing up from his subconscious. His neural nanonics had to reduce
his heart rate. One hand moved fractionally towards the pistol holster on his belt.
And I can’t do it. Can’t kill her. Can’t end it all with the one act of barbarism which we’ve always resorted to. Dear God,
she’s already dead.
Annette Ekelund’s eyes followed the tiny motion of his hand. She smiled and turned to beckon one of the figures that had emerged
from the diner.
Ralph watched numbly as a mummy wearing a peaked police cap shuffled forwards. The girl held in its solid embrace couldn’t
have been more than fifteen. All she wore was a long mauve T-shirt. Her bare legs were grazed and streaked with dirt. She’d
been crying profusely. Now she could only whimper as she was dragged towards him.
“Nice-looking girl,” Annette Ekelund said. “A fine body, if a little young. But I can alter that. You see, if you blow big
chunks out of this body of Angeline Gallagher’s, Ralph, the girl will become the one I possess next. My colleague here will
break her bones, rape her, rip the skin from her face, hurt her so terribly she’ll make a pact with Lucifer himself to make
it stop. But it won’t be Lucifer who answers her from the afterlife, only me. I shall come forth again; and you and I will
be right back where we started, except that Gallagher’s body will be dead. Will she thank you for that, do you think, Ralph?”
Nerve impulse overrides prevented Ralph’s hands from tearing Ekelund’s head from her shoulders. “What do you want me to say?”
he datavised to the security committee.
“I don’t think we have any choice,” Princess Kirsten replied. “I cannot allow thousands of my people to be killed out of hand.”
“If we leave, they’ll be possessed,” Ralph warned her. “Ekelund will do exactly what she described to this girl, and all the
others. Not just here, but right along the whole length of Mortonridge.”
“I know, but I have to consider the majority. If the possessed are outside the marine cordons, then we’ve already lost Mortonridge.
I cannot lose Xingu, too.”
“There are two million people living on Mortonridge!”
“I am aware of that. But at least if they’re possessed they will still be alive. I think that Ekelund woman is right; the
overall problem of possession isn’t going to be solved here.” There was a moment’s pause. “We’re cutting our losses, Ralph.
Tell her she can have Mortonridge. For now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered.
Annette Ekelund smiled. “She agreed, didn’t she?”
“You may have Mortonridge,” Ralph relayed imperturbably as the Princess started to outline the conditions. “We will instigate
an immediate evacuation procedure for people from areas you have not yet reached; any attempt to sabotage vehicles will result
in SD strikes against areas where we know you are concentrated. If any of you try to pass the cordon we establish between
Mortonridge and the main body of the continent you will be put into zero-tau. If any of you are found outside the cordon you
will be put into zero-tau. If there is any terrorist assault against any Ombey citizen or building we will send in a punitive
expedition and throw several hundred of you into zero-tau. If you attempt to communicate with other offplanet possessed forces,
you will again be punished.”
“Of course,” Ekelund said mockingly. “I agree to your terms.”
“And the girl comes with me,” Ralph declared.
“Come come, Ralph, I don’t believe the authorities actually said that.”
“Try me,” he challenged.
Ekelund glanced at the sobbing girl, then back to Ralph. “Would you have bothered if she was a wizened old grandmother?” she
asked sarcastically.
“But you didn’t choose a wizened old grandmother, did you? You chose her because you knew how protective we are towards the
young. Your error.”
Ekelund said nothing, but made a sharp irritated gesture to the mummy. It let the girl go. She floundered, trembling so badly
she could hardly stand. Ralph caught her before she fell. He winced at the weight that put on his injured leg.
“I’ll look forward to the day you join us, Ralph,” Ekelund said. “However long it takes. You’ll be quite an asset. Come and
see me when your soul finally obtains a new body to live in.”
“Fuck you.” Ralph scooped the girl up and started to walk down the road. He ignored the hundreds of people standing in front
of the prim buildings, the indifferent possessed and their wailing distraught victims, the ones he’d failed so completely.
Staring resolutely ahead, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. He knew if he took it all in, acknowledged
the magnitude of the disaster he’d wrought, he’d never be able to carry on.
“Enjoy your magnificent victory with the girl,” Annette Ekelund called after him.
“This one is only the beginning,” he promised grimly.
At a point in space four light-years distant from the star around which Mirchusko orbited, the gravity density suddenly leapt
upwards. The area affected was smaller than a quark, at first. But once established, the warp rapidly grew both in size and
in strength. Faint strands of starlight curved around the fringes, only to be sucked in towards the centre as the gravity
intensified further.
Ten picoseconds after its creation, the shape of the warp twisted from a spherical zone to a two-dimensional disk. By this
time it was over a hundred metres in diameter. At the centre of one side, gravity fluctuated again, placing an enormous strain
on local space. A perfectly circular rupture appeared, rapidly irising open.
A long grey-white fountain of gas spewed out from the epicentre of the wormhole terminus. The water vapour it contained immediately
turned to minute ice crystals, spinning away from the central plume, twinkling weakly in the sparse starlight. Lumps of solid
matter began to shoot out along the gas jet, tumbling off into the void. It was a curious collection of objects: sculpted
clouds of sand, tufts of reed grass with their roots wriggling like spider legs, small fractured dendrites of white and blue
coral, broken palm tree fronds, oscillating globules of saltwater, a shoal of frantic fish, their spectacularly coloured bodies
bursting apart as they underwent explosive decompression, several seagulls squirting blood from beaks and rectums.
Then the crazy outpouring reduced drastically, blocked by a larger body which was surging along the wormhole.
Udat
slipped out into normal space, a flattened teardrop over a hundred and thirty metres long, its blue polyp hull enlivened
with a tortuous purple web. Straightaway the blackhawk changed the flow of energy through the vast honeycomb of patterning
cells which made up the bulk of its body, modifying its gravitonic distortion field. The wormhole terminus began to close
behind it.
Almost the last object to emerge from the transdimensional opening was a small human figure. A woman: difficult to see because
of the black SII spacesuit she wore, her limbs scrabbling futilely, almost as though she were clawing at the structure of
space-time in order to pursue the big blackhawk as it drew away from her. Her movements slowly calmed as the suit’s sensor
collar revealed stars and distant nebulas again, replacing the menacingly insubstantial pseudofabric of the wormhole.
Dr Alkad Mzu felt herself shudder uncontrollably, the relief was so intoxicating. Free from the grip of equations become energy.
I understand the configuration of reality too well to endure such direct exposure. The wormhole has too many flaws, too many
hidden traps. A quasi-continuum where time’s arrow has to be directed by an artificial energy flow; the possible fates lurking
within such a non-place would make you welcome death as the most beautiful of consorts.