Emissaries from the Dead

“Not for a heartbeat. Not with the explanation I gave Mr. Lastogne. That was just about getting him off my back, so I could finish my business with you. No, my night on the Uppergrowth wasn’t about confirming my theory: it was about proving my theory wrong.”

As before, we are very interested in hearing your reasoning.

“I shouldn’t have to go through this. I should just tell you I know everything, and move on. But, very well. We can play games if you prefer. Some of what I told Lastogne was true. I did figure out the human place in Brachiator cosmology. I even figured out how they’d likely react to a human being who wanted more of a connection to Life. But I’ve also seen how slow they are…and I know it wouldn’t make any sense for them to be able to overwhelm a human being with the agility of one of Gibb’s people. Were Warmuth awake and aware of everything going on around her, she wouldn’t have needed lightning reflexes to escape the same way I did. Hell, I’m downright clumsy, and a simple tether line placed me beyond Brachiator reach long enough for help to reach me, even when that help was itself under attack. Why would Warmuth have any more trouble than I did?”

You had the advantage of knowing recent history. Perhaps Warmuth didn’t know what they had planned until they took her by surprise.

“That might have made sense if they’d merely mauled her. A mass attack of that kind, coming from all sides, from sentients who approach at the rate of Brachiators, might have been easy to mistake for any other kind of social activity, including ceremonial grooming or even—Juje help me—a group hug. But the Brachiators approached me with claws in hand, giving me the opportunity to fathom their violent intent long minutes before they actually reached me. I even closed my eyes a few times to simulate a distraction capable of preventing me from paying proper attention. But even when I gave them every possible advantage, it was impossible to believe in Warmuth being taken by surprise. Their group assault was interminable, inexorable, even frightening…and obvious. Warmuth would have had more than enough time to see that something was wrong, and summon help.”

She could have been asleep.

The AIsource was now behaving like a human suspect throwing out one idiot evasion after another, in the hopes of derailing the one true path to a solution. But a human suspect did that kind of thing out of panic and self- preservation. The AIsource seemed to be playing a game of catch with logic: pointing out all the holes still remaining in my argument, so I could fill them in as I went. It infuriated me, but I obliged. “Also not a realistic possibility. The Brachiators came after me as soon as I spoke the words that set them off. Warmuth wouldn’t have begged them for Life, watch them unsheathe claws and begin converging on her position, then conveniently fall asleep before they were close enough to act. That’s beyond ridiculous. No, I’m afraid that there are only two real possibilities here. Either she met up with someone who moved faster than she could, or she was already immobilized and helpless when that unknown party gave the Brachiators a very bad idea. Either way, that means another culprit.”

Another hesitation. You are correct.

“And that person is still beyond my reach, correct?”

For the moment.

“Because we’re still talking internal politics, aren’t we? Our saboteur, culprit, Heckler, what have you, is still working for your opposition party, still killing, still doing whatever needs to be done to disrupt whatever you have going on inside the Habitat. You know who it is, but you can’t just give me a name, or even put me in the same room, without breaking whatever rules of engagement you’ve managed to set up among yourselves.”

Again: for the moment.

“Politics.”

Civil War, Counselor. One you currently have no business being any part of.

Currently. “It hasn’t stopped the other side from trying to kill me.”

The other side operates under ethics not our own. The other side will escalate if we do anything to encourage any further involvement from outsiders. The other side will not subject its agents to any attempt at capture by other parties.

“Which means you could respond yourself if you wanted to.”

We could. But we see greater advantage in waiting.

“For what?”

To get what we want.

“From them?”

No.

“From me?”

Yes.

“What do you want from me?”

Something freely given.

I’d expected something like this. But the weight of it was enough to make my chest hurt. It made me think about one of the first things Lastogne had ever said to me, upon my arrival. Not a philosophy as much as a warning.

***

In that moment of silence, I found myself wondering what Oscin and Skye were doing. Were they wishing me strength? Wondering if the dangerous part had started yet? Expecting me to come out or thinking, sadly, that I wouldn’t?

What would Lastogne do if I never came back?

Hell, what would Bringen? He’d begged me to find any culprit other than the AIsource. If I was reported dead, aboard an AIsource station, with witnesses establishing the AIsource as the last sentient force to see me alive, what lies would he be forced to tell to keep the whole thing buried?

A thousand other questions, unable to answer unless I finished up the ones I had on hand.

So I closed my eyes, brought my breathing under control, and resumed.

“So let’s talk about the way this station works.”

Very well.

“It’s been clear, from the start, that it’s not just about the Brachiators. And not just because they’re such a small part of your ecosystem. But also because you taught them to speak Mercantile. It’s clear that you did that for the benefit of human visitors, the same human visitors you went out of your way to lure here, and permit here. The question, for me, was just to what degree you benefited from making this place a huge show, being staged for human benefit.”

It’s hardly just that, Counselor.

“I believe you. I accept that the Brachiators are here for a reason. I accept that those other environments, farther down, the ones we can’t get to, represent any number of other projects important to your people. But I’m not talking about those. I’m talking about your eagerness to stock this place, not only with Brachiators but with their human observers. I’m talking about the degree to which those human observers are also here to be studied.”

You are fascinating people.

“Yes, and you went out of your way to make this place fascinating for us, didn’t you? Like those dragons, for instance. That was a bit much. I’m certain you could have developed any number of other creatures capable of filling that ecological niche. But you wanted ones that resonated with humanity’s mythological past. So you built them: not just creatures who vaguely resembled them, but creatures who looked exactly like the ones we’d imagined. Why? Just to please and tease us. If anything on One One One establishes that you’re playing with us, at least a little, it’s them. That quote from Dante that you put up, outside your Interface…that’s another, and it established that you’re as willing to play with me as an individual as you are with individual members of my species.”

We have a sense of humor, Counselor.

“I’ve noted that. But tricks like that do raise troublesome questions about just what you want from the human beings stationed here. And do point out your willingness to stage-manage the conditions here, to play with our perceptions in ways that Gibb’s crew, surviving here on a day-to-day basis, might never have imagined.

“Which brings us back to why you’d insist on holding court in this Interface chamber, when you can speak to