Brain Plague

are.'

'But you said—'

'We don't kill them all. We take them out to sort them. Some we can civilize and settle among carriers.'

'The blue angels are taking our children.' The golden letters pleaded in her window. 'Please, Great One; they're all settled in with us. They lost their home once; don't uproot them again.'

'Can't the Eleutherians just keep the children? They kept masters' children before.'

He stared. 'They did what?'

She cursed her tongue. 'You missed a transfer, from that slave,' she reminded him. 'It fell in the street. They said I had to save them.'

'What in hell do you think you're doing? You have no training for relief and rescue.'

'Should I just let them die? You always say they're people.'

He let out a breath. 'I'm glad they were saved; we were sorry we missed them. But you can't take such risks. If you go wrong, your whole population dies.'

'The blue angels want to take Rose.' Aster's pale violet flashed sadly.

Chrys shook her head. 'I warned her to quit preaching Enlightenment.'

'But she helped us. She knows all the invaders' tricks; she helped us capture them.'

Chrys gave Daeren a tentative look. 'Can't you leave Rose? She has nutty ideas, but she means no harm.'

'The one you call Rose is an unrepentant master. She'll take you over, if she hasn't already.'

'I want a second opinion.'

He stopped, taken aback. He crossed his arms. 'If that's what you want. I'll call Andra. Excuse me.' He turned and left the room.

'The Thundergod,' Chrys warned Aster. 'Now you're in real trouble.'

'Never mind, it buys us time. We'll settle the children and make Rose keep dark.'

'The children are settled,' added Jonquil, 'as if they were born here. They know nothing else; they've grown here for years.'

Years? At the corner of her eye, the time read well past midnight. Four microbial years. She had not realized how long the medics took, and the blue angels investigating. What a lot of trouble she had caused. And yet, that place the masters showed ... was there no way back? Pressing her hands to her head, she squeezed her eyes shut. 'Aster, show me fireworks.'

Colors burst through her window, the daily showers of hue that she so enjoyed. It brought her back to herself. Opening her eyes, she looked around the kitchen. She thought of Daeren, here to help her yet again. Whatever did one offer someone this late, or this early in the morning? 'Xenon, how about some orange juice.'

The table slid open and two glasses came up. Chrys put a cup of AZ chips between them as Daeren returned. 'Andra will be here,' he said, not looking at her.

She nodded. 'Thanks. Have a seat.'

He sat with his arms crossed, looking out to the hall.

Chrys held out an AZ. 'Give them one, from me.'

He started to shake his head, then something changed his mind. He took the wafer with a brief smile. His eyes were dark now, yet something about him remained a mystery.

'How'd you get into all this?' Chrys asked suddenly. 'It didn't make you rich, like the others.'

Daeren took a sip of the orange juice. 'My first year at law school, I ran short of credit. I answered an ad, like you did. Andra gave me some of hers, lawyers, I figured. But this group had ideas of their own—why else would they emigrate?'

'What ideas?'

'They want to found a sort of microbial world federation, getting all the micro people to agree to live in peace and respect their environment.'

'And obey the gods.'

His finger pensively worked around the rim of the glass. 'I guess I found the people themselves more interesting than law books. I'm not poor; I draw my salary from the clinic. I can't invest with Garnet because he's my client half the time. But I also work the Palace, promoting micro rights. They need basic human rights, to pursue their dream.'

She pictured Lord Zoisite at the Palace listening with a straight face to Daeren promoting rights for microbes.

'I go to Elysium, too, to work with Arion.'

'Guardian Arion? He barely thinks Valans are people, let alone—'

'He's interested in micros. And we provide him with valuable intelligence.'

That sounded dangerous. 'Did you ever . . . get in trouble with micros?' she asked. 'Did they ever get to your neurons?'

'Not so far. We've been careful.'

She thought of that feeling, the heavens opening and light pouring through. 'What's so bad about 'enlightenment?' I mean, if we trust the micro people with everything else in our bodies....'

Daeren drank the orange juice and set down the glass. 'You're a colorist. You always use the brightest colors.'

'That's part of it.'

'Why don't you fill the whole volume with the brightest white light?'

'It would be empty.'

He returned her look, as if that were the answer.

Xenon announced the Chief of Security. Andra came up and checked Chrys in the eyes, her own flashing deep violet. She gave a nod. 'Daeren, you go home and get some sleep.' She gave Chrys a patch full of 'judges.' The minutes lengthened, two women alone, each with a million people inside.

'Are they all right?' Chrys asked at last. 'I feel okay.'

'We're trying to track down the vampire's children. Most of them already seem to have merged.'

The Eleutherians probably gave them hormones to hurry them along. No wonder they wanted extra time. 'What about Rose? Is she really dangerous?'

'She's about as dangerous as the rest of yours.' The Chief's tone made it clear what she thought of the rest of them. 'Daeren has requested reassignment. You'll have a new tester.'

Chrys fell struck as if by a physical blow. 'Just because I got a second opinion?'

'It's been two months, which is time to rotate, in any case. We avoid getting too close to clients, to stay objective. You'll start next week with Selenite.'

The Deathlord—what a disaster. 'Selenite's my business partner. Isn't that, like, a conflict of interest?'

'She has an opening at present. All our agents are overbooked; the street caseload is rising.' Andra looked away, the grim look of a general taking heavy casualties. 'A new virulent strain has hit the streets. We don't know its source, though we suspect...' She did not finish. 'We've taught your people a few tips to handle masters. Things we usually only teach agents.' She gave Chrys a pointed stare. 'The knowledge makes them even more dangerous. But with your lifestyle, you'll probably need it.'

ELEVEN

Less than a year to go before the great test of the Comb. The gods had manufactured the vector to Eleutherian specifications, and soon they would inoculate the root. The moment was critical; the worst time imaginable for a government crisis in Eleutheria. But here it was. Jonquil had fallen to the gravest scandal since Aster convened the Council.