The Gabble

‘Well, for the next person under a death sentence when it decided to implant the node.’

‘I was lucky that time occurred when it did.’

‘Yes, five seconds later and someone else would have been chosen.’

Daes stood and stretched his neck. ‘It’s in me then?’

‘Yes, you will not know it is there until the picotech starts to work.’

‘And when will that be?’

‘We do not know. It is not working at the moment, though.’

‘How can you be sure of that?’

‘I am taking readings from numerous detectors implanted in your body.’

‘I didn’t give permission for that,’ said Daes.

Hera shrugged. ‘To put in a suitable parlance,’ she said, ‘tough.’

Daes stared at her for a long moment. It was all perfectly clear to him: Geronamid could do with him what it liked now.

‘What do I do while I wait for this node to. . activate?’

‘Explore, sleep, eat, all those things you would not be doing had your sentence been passed either five seconds later or earlier.’

‘Do you need to continually remind me?’

‘Yes, it would seem that I do.’

Without responding to that Daes turned and walked to the window. He gazed out at a wall of jungle twenty metres away. The intervening area had been scorched to grey ash, but even there the ground was scattered with reddish-green sprouts, and fungi like blue peas. A bewildering surge of feeling hit him: he wanted to be out there, to drive his fingers into the black earth, and to see and feel growing things.

‘You say that picotech isn’t working yet?’ he said.

When Hera did not reply he turned to her.

‘No, I said it wasn’t working, now I say that something is happening,’ she replied.

Daes swallowed a sudden surge of fear. What the hell was he doing here? He should have gone to the disintegrator. At least that would have been clean and quick, and right now he would know nothing, feel nothing.

‘What’s happening?’

‘I do not know,’ said Hera. ‘The node is reduced in size and picomachines are diffusing through your body. What they are doing will become evident in time.’

Daes pressed his hands against the thick glass of the window, and noted that the skin on the backs of them was peeling.

‘I want to go outside,’ he said.

The air was frigid in his mouth. He had expected it to be warm and humid.

‘This equates to the Jurassic period on Earth,’ said Hera.

‘How do you work out that equation then?’ Daes asked sarcastically.

‘Quite simply really. The ecosystems have not evolved to the complexity of mutualism between species.’

‘And that means?’

‘No flowers and no pollinators. The equations are more complex than that, obviously, but my explanation stands.’

‘You mean it will do for a stupid human like me,’ said Daes. ‘Why the hell is it so damned cold? This looked like jungle from in there.’

‘It is jungle, and for this place it is unseasonably hot.’

‘Couldn’t you have chosen a warmer planet?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean? You are Geronamid.’

‘I am a part, and now a separate part.’

Daes turned to study her, then damned himself for a fool. If she gave anything away in her expression that would be because she wanted to. It was so easy to forget what she was.

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘Because my direct link has been severed, it being possible to use such a link for direct informational attack on Geronamid itself. This planet is in quarantine for the duration of this trial. The only link we do have is a comlink to a second isolated submind of Geronamid’s in orbit.’

‘Is Geronamid that scared then?’

‘Cautious, I think would be a better term.’