“No!” Norr objected. “That would be a terrible mistake!
Techno Society operatives may already be on Zeen, but if they aren’t, they soon will be. And when they arrive, they will bring professional killers, metal men, and killing machines with them. Then they’ll head for Buru.”
“Wait a minute,” the mayor interrupted. “Did you say
‘killing machines’? Describe one.”
So Rebo began to describe what a raptor looked like, and was only halfway through, when the master-at-arms came to his feet. “That’s it!” he proclaimed. “That sounds like the machine that attacked our forces in Wattl!”
Pontho experienced a sudden sense of exultation mixed with an equal measure of fear. While she was glad to hear that Arbuk and his cronies weren’t in the process of building two-legged killing machines, it was clear the land-lords had a new ally, and a dangerous one at that. For the fi?rst time, the mayor forced herself to address the snake. She felt silly, talking to what looked like a piece of jewelry, but what if the creature was real? What if it really could control the moon, open star gates, and whisk people from one planet to another? “So tell me, Sogol,” she said, as she made eye contact with the object in front of her, “what will happen next?”
“That depends on you,” the AI replied unhesitatingly.
“Lonni is correct. An earlier iteration of myself entered into an alliance with the Techno Society. If allowed to do so, Logos and his human functionaries will travel to Buru, where they will enter a star gate and transfer to Socket. Once aboard the satellite, Logos 1 will reinstall himself, seize control of the star gates that remain in operation, and begin the process of reseeding the planets that were served in the past. Once that process is complete, they will control humanity rather than serve it. But only if you let them. . . . If you take us to the island of Buru, we will board Socket and block the Techno Society.”
“It sounds good,” Pontho allowed cautiously, “but here’s the problem . . . No, two problems. The fi?rst problem is that all we have is your word for what’s going on. Maybe you and your companions are the ones we should be worried about—
and the other people are trying to chase you down.”
“What about the killing machine?” the AI countered.
“And the casualties you suffered?”
“Maybe they didn’t know who we were,” the politician replied warily, “and fi?red in self-defense.”
“That’s a fair question,” Norr put in, “but we have a character witness. Someone you trust—and will vouch for the truth of what we say.”
Pontho lacked eyebrows, but she had large double-lidded eyes, and they widened slightly. “Really?” she inquired skeptically. “And who would that be?”
Norr’s features went slack, and Rebo looked worried as a spirit entity took control of the sensitive’s body. “Hello, honey,” a female voice said. “It’s Aunt Cyn. . . . Remember the toothfi?sh? And how it nipped your calf when you were seven? I had a hard time explaining that one to your mother! She never let me take you outside the dome again. These people are real, hon. . . . They aren’t perfect, none of us are, but they’re trying to make things better. And remember, those who wind up in control of Socket will have the power to move the satellite, which would eliminate the tides.”
“The generators,” Pontho put in. “That would shut them down.”
“Exactly,” the disincarnate agreed. “So do what you can to help them. You won’t be sorry.”
Then, just as quickly as the spirit had arrived, she was gone, and Norr was in control of her body once again. The mayor appeared stricken—and tears rolled down her face.
“There are sensitives on land, so I have heard of such contacts, but never experienced one myself. A toothfi?sh took a chunk out of my leg—and I have the scar to prove it. And, since there’s no way that you could have possibly been aware of that incident, I’m inclined to believe you.
“But I told you that two problems stand in the way of your plan. The fi?rst has been resolved—but the second is much more diffi?cult. The land-lords, which is to say the people who control all of the landmasses, occupy the island of Buru, which means that you won’t be able to set foot on it.”
“That’s true,” the master-at-arms allowed. “But we control the sea all around them—so it’s a standoff.”
“Was a standoff,” Rebo said grimly. “Things are about to change.”
The city of Esperance
It was dark outside, and rain splattered against thick glass, as the two men stood in front of a huge wall- mounted map. “The island of Buru is right there,” Lord Arbuk said, as he covered a tiny dot with the tip of a pudgy fi?nger. “About seventy-fi?ve miles off the coast.”
In spite of the fact that he and his subordinates qualifi?ed as prisoners, such were the freedoms allowed them that Tepho felt rather comfortable within the nobleman’s castlelike home. Because in spite of the rude comments made about him in Wattl, Arbuk had been extremely courteous since, and the two men had a great deal in common. Both were analytical, ambitious, and completely ruthless. All of which was likely to make for a good alliance, so long as they continued to desire the same things, and there was no shortage of loot. “And you control it,” the technologist commented, as he stared at the tiny brown blob.
“Yes,” Arbuk replied honestly, “I do. The surrounding waters are a different story however. The phibs control those.”
Tepho frowned. “Then how do you transport supplies to the island?”
“Wings,” the nobleman answered laconically. “A healthy wing can fl?y about a hundred miles without resting, so Buru is well within their range, so long as they aren’t overburdened. And, since they grow most of their own food, my staff are quite self-suffi?cient.”
Logos had been listening intently and chose that moment to enter the conversation. Arbuk, who had grown accustomed to the AI by then, remained unperturbed. “What about the transfer station? Is it intact?”
“I honestly don’t know,” the land-lord replied, as he lumbered toward a massive armchair. “I’ve never been
