*End Circuit-run* said the Assembly monitor, and she dropped back to the real world, shift ended. Ah, the heady life of a practical engineer! She pulled the induction leads from her scalp and, nodding to her PM replacement at the monitor boards, went home through the bright, living streets of the Arcology.
Brendan was there as usual, waiting in her room in preference to his own. They lay together in the semidarkness and she felt his ears on her thighs, the sharp rasp of his whiskers scratching at her pudenda. His tongue sent flashes of delight expanding awayfrom her groin and she felt pity for the people whose experiences were delineated by 'net-borne pornography. She ran her fingers through his hair, feeling the brain-taps embedded in his skull, and rocked her hips to the rhythms of his real-world face. Somehow, dimly, I know, she thought. Where is the satisfaction of having an imaginary creature do this for me? I might as well have a robot. . . . But a real man . . . Ah . . . The strength of it clutched at her and an orgasm began its explosive course. She sighed and held his head fast, pushing against his now still face until it was over. He crawled up her body and entered her. She stroked his sweaty back and waited patiently for him to finish.
They were back, reeling from a paroxysm of memories. The thers had not moved, nothing had changed, yet it seemed a little darker, colder, as if a season closer to midwinter had enveloped them.
'OK, who's next?' asked Tem gruffly.
John looked hard at Demogorgon. 'Are we powerless to keep these . . . memories from engulfing us?
Is it our program or'—he gestured at the distant castle—'its?'
'I think I know what's happening,' said the Arab. 'We're being strengthened, united. It must be a continuation of the process begun among us before; you weren't with us, John, but the GAM is trying to
... help us become whole. These shared memories are part of that.'
Tem, still waiting to be submerged into another memory chain, spoke tentatively. 'On the other hand, Centrum might be stealing these experiences as it did Brendan's. I'm pretty sure that if it was the Artifact doing this we would know. Shit. I don't know. Who's for stopping this, right now? It can be done.' No one spoke.
'All right,' said Demogorgon. 'We go on.'
The thers were tethered a little distance away, snatching clawfuls of feathery blue and roan grass that had grown just for them, and the people sat around a little campfire, toasting shish kebab and marshmallows, talking. No further flashbackshad interrupted the smooth flow of the program, and they had begun almost to enjoy the prospects for adventure before them. They discussed options, having Demo materialize a skimmer for them to simply fly to their encounter with the Centrum, but he pointed out that the more he interfered with its operation the less the interface program could do to determine the scenarios under which the contact would take place. It knew what was best for them. They hoped. . . . There had been little enough conversation on this adventure thus far and now their speech was, perforce, desultory. Axie said, 'It's ironic, but I never have felt as close to anyone as I do to all of you, now. We seem like a particularly lucky people.' It was happy-sounding, but they could sense nothing from her.
'Adversity always brings people together,' said Harmon.
'No, it's more than that,' said Beth. 'We are being continually presented with the most forceful evidence that we are the same . . . literally, the same. Where DR enhanced differences, incompatibilities .
. . this is so different.'
'Don't get carried away,' said Tem, pulling a kebab out of the fire. 'I don't think we should trust all of our feelings while under the influence of the program. After all, it can synthesize feelings as easily as anything else.'
'Oh?' said Vana haughtily. 'And just what should we trust if not our emotions?'
'She's right, Tem,' said Ariane. 'We can't lose faith in ourselves.' The Selenite looked apologetic, sucking at a piece of onion. 'That's not what I meant.' Axie regarded the bearded man. 'We've come a long way in a short time, Temujin. It's only right that there should be some skepticism.' She reached past the fire and patted him on the shoulder. 'But words, even here, are stilted. They ring hollow in my own ears. Believe me when I say—'
'Shut up!' Demogorgon loomed up, more impressive now than even his Arhos persona. He pointed into the distance: a group of pinpoints, lights like burning ashes from a fire, floated at an unknowable distance against the blue of the sky, arrayed at random above the castle. Thus far the world hadseemed a personal thing, their own to explore. Now, suddenly, the first sign of a power other than theirs was revealed.
'What are those?' asked Ariane, and they could all feel a keying up of interiors, as their nerves began to wind tight.
Krzakwa stood up, gripping his missile weapon. 'I don't know and can't guess,' he said, 'but I think we should assume they are enemy hostiles.'
Demogorgon drew his sword, a deadly metallic whisper.
'Can they really kill us?' That was from Vana.
