Finally, we get a softball, Djoser said. Go find a local immortal. What then? Say hello?
The doctor is by all accounts an elusive and unpredictable man, Lyra replied. Might not be so straightforward.
D_Light opened his eyes. Lyra stood over him, arching her back in a grandiose, catlike stretch. She spoke out loud, groggily and to no one in particular. “Let’s move out. We can work out the details on the way.”
After creeping out from behind the boathouse and through a yard overlooked by the large bay windows of an old-fashioned brick and mortar dwelling, they found their way onto one of the public trails. They walked quickly, trying to make good time. As they travelled they discussed how best to tackle the quest. According to what they could gather from the Cloud, the doctor would be very difficult to contact by remote means.
“Dr. Monsa is all about the biogames,” Djoser said. “He’s not going to talk to anyone that isn’t either a crack-shot wetgineer or otherwise on his short list.”
Lyra asked, “We will need to visit him in person then?”
Djoser nodded. “Yes, for outsiders like us, that would probably be the only shot at meeting him.” He frowned. “I blinked my mother about it. She won’t even try to arrange a meeting.”
“Same here,” Lyra said. “I tried to pull a few strings, call in a few favors, but nada.” Grinning, she added, “I think everyone who’s in the know is afraid of this guy. Afraid to piss him off or something.”
“No doubt,” D_Light joined in. “He’s holed up in his main house, the one not far from here. And by holed up I mean he’s in deep, in a part of the house called the inner sanctum.” He chuckled. “Sounds a little intimidating, eh? That’s where he does his research. Apparently, it’s some sort of Darwinian freak show in there and only the truly determined would want to enter-enter the sanctum.” D_Light did a mock shiver to feign fear.
“Well, I’m determined,” said Djoser with confidence.
“Have you seen the action on this MetaGame lately? A whole lot of people want to get a piece. The point spread is looking good, and the sweet pot is up to thirty large.” Djoser patted Amanda on her rump to add emphasis.
Thirty large! D_Light thought. The term “large” was not a denomination of one thousand as it was in the old days; it now meant million. If they won, even his tenth share of the pot would be worth more than what he’d made off fragging Fael. My Soul, this could be my week!
“Hey, by the way, when I contacted my people, I didn’t have to explain our fugitive situation to anyone,” Lyra said. “It looks like none of us is in the public demon database.”
“Yeah, but did you check your own private status?” D_Light asked.
Lyra replied, “That’s just it. I come up as a ‘suspected demon.’”
“At least you’re only suspected,” D_Light muttered.
“Curious though, don’t you think?” Lyra asked. “If the DA really wanted to catch us, why wouldn’t they make our status public?”
“I’d hate to think they were not chasing us,” Djoser grumbled. “That would mean I took a swim in that slime lake for no reason.” He gave Lily a hard look meant to be teasing, but she seemed to misunderstand it, at which point he patted her on the shoulder. Lily merely arched her eyebrows at him.
“Well, I for one have never been hunted by the Divine Authority before, so I’m not exactly sure what to expect,” Lyra said. “I say we proceed as though we are on the hot list. Better safe than stunned and reformatted.”
Night had fallen by the time the team neared House Monsa. Presently, they were crossing an immense suspension bridge, the railings and lines of which were overgrown by light-emitting vines that merged into a shimmering glow, a glow that stretched out over the kilometers of bridge ahead and behind.
Lily had hustled several bicycles from players using her paper hard currency bills, which were still wet and crumpled from the lake. Now all had bicycles, except for the bodyguards, who had to share one. With excellent balance, Amanda sat on the handlebars. Brian didn’t appear to mind the view.
The only automated transportation on the road was the commercial bots, heavily laden with goods. The team had entertained the idea of trying to hitch a ride on one of these, but the AI-controlled vehicles could not be bribed and moved too fast to hop on the way a drifter might catch a boxcar. Other House Monsa commuters either strolled on the pedestrian lane of the bridge, lost in their own virtual worlds, or hissed rapidly by overhead in liftcars. Renting a liftcar was out, so the team did a great deal of furious pedaling and eventually approached House Monsa, which loomed ahead like a mountain at the terminus of the great suspension bridge.
Using the enhanced vision of the familiars, which rode in saddlebags on the bikes, the party members could see the great house as though it were daytime. It was unlike anything any of them had ever seen. They stopped and silently regarded the sight before them.
The house itself was constructed of an unusual variety of dro-vine that was unfamiliar to the curious onlookers. Unlike the soft, green, spongy dro-vine of the spanker ghetto, this species was colored silver and its exoskeleton was hard with sharp edges. The splendid quality of this dro-vine, coupled with an inordinate number of sparkling windows, made the castle’s sheer, jagged walls resemble an inverted cluster of icicles that jutted from the lake into a high-altitude display of splendor, the turrets and towers being the icicle tips. However, unlike the austere and barren ice found in high mountaintops, these soaring spires were sprinkled along the ridges with rich greens, luminous blues, blood reds, and every other color imaginable. The effect was as though a god, quite haphazardly, had thrown confetti across this mysterious structure. This confetti, however, actually represented private and public gardens, some of which clung precariously to their perches, hundreds of meters, if not a thousand, into the air. The garden lights were the product of a billion photo-emitting flowers.
Besides the photoflower gardens, there were lights lower down on the lake, artificial ones, used by the house marina to guide boats in and out. The marina was situated inside a sea wall where a few thousand boats were lashed to a network of dimly lit floating docks. Large commercial barges, lit with their own reds and greens, floated by soundlessly.
D_Light realized this was likely a romantic setting. Remembering the events of a few hours before, he smiled at Amanda, who rode arm’s length from him. “Hi there,” he said.
The ever-vigilant bodyguard detected his gesture, but she rested her eyes on him only momentarily and then moved them away without acknowledgment. He might as well have been one of the bridge railing posts.
That must be insects, Lily said in D_Light’s mind. Because they were sharing Smorgeous’s visual at the moment, Lily was able to blink D_Light without permission. It wasn’t polite to blink without first sending a request; nevertheless, D_Light let it go.
To show what she was talking about, she pinged on the vid feed a subtle, smoky mist that collected here and there about the spires.
Smorgeous magnified the view. Not insects, D_Light declared. Those are bats! Big ones!
D_Light had never seen so many creatures being used to fuel a single dro-vine structure. He supposed it made sense. The living structure was incredibly thick and therefore did not have adequate surface area to survive on hyper-photosynthesis alone. The bats were needed to ferry nectar from the nectar trees of the mainland to the island, the distance being too great to use insects for the task. Indeed, larger animals were required, ones that could efficiently make the crossing. These bats fit the bill, being genetically engineered animals. By imprinting them with the location of their roosts throughout the dro-vine castle, they tirelessly gathered their payloads and brought them back home. There they dispensed the nectar into receptacles that fed straight into the building’s circulatory system. The bats took for themselves only enough of the energy and nutrient-optimized nectar to continue their work and, when energy reserves were sufficient, reproduce.
Lily went on. They are so breathtakingly busy! Collecting, collecting, depositing, depositing…
And to think that many of them are probably asleep! You see, for harvesters, when it’s time for a nap, half their brain shuts down while the other half controls flight. Some migratory birds have done this for millions of years. We have since borrowed that nifty innovation.
Fascinating, Lily replied. When asked, Smorgeous did not detect any sarcasm pattern in her thought signature.
D_Light relaxed and allowed himself a moment to take in the silver and black cloud of harvesters rapidly swirling around, in, and out of the glowing icy crags. My Soul, what is this place I’m going to? he thought.
Just look at it, Lily. This…this ecosystem is an example of God’s work. Efficient, elegant, beautiful.
