Brain Plague

Lord of Light longed for nothing more than Eleutherians to devote themselves to him. So, we will worship him as our own god, and his heart will be yours.'

Now that they knew, what a disaster. She could never face him again—she'd just die.

The message light blinked. Andra's sprite appeared. 'Security alert—an emergency announcement. We've lost contact with Daeren, in the Underworld.'

TWENTY

While awaiting the next word of their anguished god, the two priests tasted their records of hormone levels in the god's circulation. 'It's true,' said Forget-me-not, 'there was always a rise in adrenaline when we met the Lord of Light. But then, in my youth with the blue angels, most gods who met the Lord of Light raised their adrenaline. I thought they feared testing.'

'Adrenaline means more than fear,' said Fireweed. 'And divine love is more than adrenaline and dopamine.'

'Certainly. There's phenylethylamine and oxytocin. Love is a most complex and difficult problem.'

In the meantime, however, Eleutheria had another complex problem to solve: the mega-scale calculation for Silicon.

'One possible solution,' said Fireweed, 'is a newer, faster, more compact computing network.' But the mechanism for such a network as yet existed only in theory. Such a network would require smaller molecules to transduce information, based on different elements of the rare earth series. But which elements would work best, and what organic ligands? The research would take yet another generation, perhaps several.

'I still prefer the mathematical route,' said Forget-me-not. 'A proof asserts the existence of a more efficient algorithm.'

'It exists, fine—but the algorithm itself has yet to be found.'

'How can we sign the contract? ' worried Forget-me-not.

'Have faith,' said Fireweed. 'Have faith in the Seven Lights. Virtue and Power will get us there.'

'Or new immigrants,' flashed the blue one. 'We've grown soft. Historically, we take in refugees every third generation; but now we're three generations overdue.'

'I've been thinking about refugees,' said Fireweed. 'Rose built up our refugee program, resettling thousands of defectors. But in recent years she missed chances to innovate.'

'Such as?'

'The masters, even unrepentant ones, aren't all bad. They just have a bad system.'

Forget-me-not flashed warily, 'Those false blue angels are downright predatory.'

'But the tamer ones—suppose we could help them better manage their own hosts.'

'No arsenic,' Forget-me-not warned. 'Against divine law.'

'The masters waste nine-tenths of their own arsenic through ignorance and mismanagement. If we could teach them conservation, we might help them become better people—'

'Or better predators.'

The Committee met again virtually, the second emergency in a week. 'His last contact was in the Underworld, just outside the tube.' Andra's voice cut like steel. 'The same way Chrys vanished—except it was right in the open street.'

'Revenge.' Jasper nodded, his gem-encrusted chair virtually spliced to Andra's. 'They took revenge for the destruction of the Slave World.'

Opal held Selenite's hand, her delicate veined face deeply troubled. 'The news said that Daeren himself directed the destruction of the Slave World. Our own people were appalled.'

Chrys exclaimed, 'It's not true. They got it wrong.'

Andra said, 'The blue angels all share descent with the masters. How do you think he felt?'

Of course, taking in refugees all the time, by now their population came as much from masters as it did from Andra's judges. And yet, in the end, Daeren chose humanity. Recalling how she had lashed at him, Chrys felt chilled.

Jasper's brow was knotted, as if chunks had fallen in a rock slide. 'In war there are casualties. Let's prevent any more. Warn all our carriers immediately.'

'But we can't lose Daeren,' exclaimed Pyrite.

'Not without a fight.' Selenite punched her hand with her fist. 'Get our prisoners back. Search the Underworld.'

Andra shook her head. 'He's no longer there.' If Daeren wasn't there, Chrys realized with growing horror where he must be headed. Except now, again, no one knew where.

'Even if alive,' Andra added, 'he may no longer be .. . himself. The Elf strain works fast.'

Daeren, food for maggots in Endless Light. Chrys's knees faltered, and she could barely stand.

Pyrite spread his hands. 'Every minute counts. What are we waiting for?'

Andra nodded, tapping her finger decisively. 'I will search the substations. If the Committee accepts the risk.' To lose Andra as well as Daeren; the thought gave them pause.

'The worker slaves are armed,' warned Selenite. 'How will you get him back? With octopods?'

'Andra,' pleaded Opal, her face creased with anguish. 'Give the masters what they need most, to get him back. Give them arsenic.'

Andra's eyes widened and her fist tightened. 'Never.'

'How else can we show them what we value most? What are we, if we lose Daeren and the blue angels?'

In Andra's eyes the judges flashed deep purple. 'Can we offer arsenic for every slave they've taken? What will the non-carriers think of us? How shall we defend our right to exist?'

Opal shook her head. 'We are human beings. Let others defend their right to a society that breeds vampires. Get Daeren back.'

Chrys blinked. All the sprites vanished. In their place was silence. 'My people, do you see? The Lord of Light is dying, and his people with him.'

Forget-me-not asked, 'Is there nothing to be done?'

'Nothing without risking the entire people of Eleutheria.'

'We need a twin world,' observed the blue one. 'Just as Vale-don has Elysium, if our world had a twin, we could at least send our children there for safety.'

Chrys smiled sadly, thinking of Opal and Selenite. 'There is no such world for me.'

'One True God,' flashed Fireweed, 'we remember how the blue angels risked the wrath of heaven and the death of their entire people, to save our ancestors from the dying Old World. They had no twin world either.'

'And history records the Watchers, and the Passing-over,' said Forget-me-not.

'Then ask your Council for a resolution,' Chrys told them. 'It must be unanimous.'

A minute passed. 'It is done,' reported Forget-me-not.

'We learned a lot, the last time,' added Fireweed. 'This time, we'll bargain with the masters. We'll treat them at our nightclubs.'

Chrys had ideas of her own. Hurriedly, she packed her portable stage, the one she used on her last field trip