The Fractal Prince

‘You are underestimating Josephine – the pellegrini,’ the thief says. ‘You of all people should know she is very, very good at coming up with incentives to do what she says. I’m not going to escape from her that easily.’

‘You are not telling me everything,’ She picks up a red-hot stone with her fingers, holds it up. ‘I could make you talk.’

The thief spreads his hands. ‘You could.’ He looks tired, suddenly. ‘But you are not going to. That’s not who you are.’ He knocks on the wooden wall of the sauna. ‘This is. You still have this to go back to. Don’t throw it away.

‘We have had our differences. But I do keep my promises. We have that in common, at least. I said I would do this thing for you, and I will. You got me out of a prison. Let me get you out of this one. Let me make sure you get to go home.’

He sounds like Perhonen. But everything he says is a lie or a trick, she thinks. The warmth of the sauna makes her feel soft. Maybe I should tell him why I’m doing this. Then she remembers the way he touched Sydan’s jewel when they met the first time.

‘All right,’ she says, slowly. ‘We’ll do it your way. But if you betray me, I will find you again.’

She throws the last big kiuas stone into the water. The thief grunts at the hiss of the steam, squeezes his eyes shut, and flees. He does something to the hatch lock. It pops open, he squeezes through and slams it shut behind him. Mieli catches a glimpse of his thin, naked body and lobster-red skin.

Mieli closes her eyes. The last time she was here was with Sydan. Perhaps it won’t be so long before they are here together again. Soon. Even if it’s going to take a little time.

Then she opens the door to the vacuum, lets the air rush out. The steam in the air freezes into a sparkling cloud of ice crystals.

Mieli steps out, spreads her wings and kisses the Dark Man.

I cool down in the main cabin. My flushed skin tingles and gives me uncomfortable memories of being burned by first the Hunter and then the router. But there is a pleasant, heavy fatigue that comes with the feeling. Mieli explicitly forbade me to touch any of the food so I help myself to a few spider eggs and wash them down with the foul Oortian liquorice vodka.

You are not supposed to touch any of that yet, the ship says.

‘Sorry, I can’t help it. Are you going to tell on me?’

I’ll use all the ammunition I can get if I have to, the ship says. Did she buy it?

‘Not entirely. But good enough to go ahead.’

She must not know.

‘I’ll make sure she won’t. Mieli has done a lot of the dirty work in this whole job. It’s my turn this time.’

I try the fruit. It has a strange, sweet flavour, like a persimmon but sharper.

‘In any case, sounds like you did some pretty good background work. She was in a receptive mood. The sauna was a good idea.’

That was all her, the ship says. But it’s good she listened. The sooner this is over, the better.

‘Agreed,’ I say. ‘Let’s hope she thanks us later.’

To be honest, it’s unlikely. There is a part of me that dislikes the plan. Perhaps that is the real reason I did not go through it the last time. But now I have no choice.

‘There is always a choice, Jean,’ Josephine says. ‘And you specialise in making the wrong ones.’

She is not wearing Mieli’s body this time. She is just a ghost in the Earth-lit cabin, just like I remember her, beautiful and tall, a woman who could be in her early forties if not for just the hint of fragility in her bones and neck. My heart jumps.

‘Wrong is such a strong word,’ I say. ‘I prefer unconventional.’ I narrow my eyes. ‘I thought you were hiding.’

‘Only until you managed to sort out things with poor Sumanguru,’ she says, lighting a cigarette. ‘I was just amused to see how sentimental you are about Mieli. I have seen you do it before. You convince yourself that you care about them, just before you use them as tools. That’s why we are so compatible. With me, you don’t have to lie to yourself.’

‘I thought you were mad at me.’

‘Well,’ she says. ‘Sauna with an Oortian should be punishment enough for now. And you showed some sparks of the man I knew, Jean. Continue this way and you will have more than just your freedom. Bring me the jewel, and the System will be at our feet.’

‘I will bring you your jewel, but not your slippers,’ I say. ‘I’m not going to be your lapdog, ever again.’

She laughs. ‘Do you have any idea how many times we have had this conversation? Nothing ever changes, Jean, not for people like us. Being who you are for ever is the price you pay for immortality. That’s why we need the jewel. To change the rules.’

I raise my bulb to her. ‘Josephine dear,’ I say, ‘you were always a better lover than a philosopher. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a dinner to finish. And then a long journey without a body.’

She smiles her serpent smile. ‘And you won’t be going alone, Jean,’ she says. ‘I’m coming with you.’

Mieli feels almost content when they finish the meal. She hums to herself quietly. The rebuilt statues in the walls dance slowly to her tune.

‘Not that I’m particularly attached to this body,’ the thief says, ‘but do you mind telling me what you are going to do with it while I’m gone?’

‘Keep it out of sight,’ Mieli says.

They finish the last of the food in silence. The dessert is her masterpiece: golden cloudberries with spidermilk. That keeps even the thief quiet for a while.

‘What are you going to do when this is over?’ he asks, suddenly.

Mieli looks at him. ‘It’s time to go,’ she says. She flips to spimescape and thinks Perhonen’s thoughtwisp launcher ready. They are going to inject the thief’s mind into the Sobornost communications network, download him in compressed form into the smartmatter patterns of a delicate disc, thinner than a soap bubble, propelled towards Earth ahead of Perhonen.

‘All right. See you on Earth,’ the thief says. ‘Wait for my signal.’

‘Kuutar and Ilmatar go with you,’ Mieli says quietly.

‘Two goddesses? That’s quite a crew. But I guess that’s what it takes to get the job done.’

He closes his eyes and is gone. The thoughtwisp accelerates, pushed by the ship’s lasers, and vanishes into the dark.

16 TAWADDUD AND CASSAR GOMELEZ

As usual in his few spare hours, Cassar Gomelez is in the kitchen.

It is said amongst the older members of the Council that if Cassar had not followed his family trade, he would have become a chef in one of the finest restaurants of the Green Shard. The air is heavy with the smell of spices, the athar full of recipe fragments. Jinn servants prepare ingredients in small pots and containers, and Cassar himself is chopping vegetables into fine chunks, a huge knife in hand, broad back bent. His movements are delicate and quick.

For a moment, he does not acknowledge the presence of his two daughters. Then he puts the knife down, looks up and wipes his hands on his apron.

‘Father,’ Tawaddud says and curtsies. Her entire body still aches, but at least she has had time to change