Under the representation of the sun, there was a brightly lit circular construction like a half-built room. They walked there across the glistening floor.
'This is a memory, of course,' his younger self said, waving one hand. 'We don't know what the upper sections of the fast-tower look like now. When Serehfa was still called Acsets, this was part of the control apparatus.'
They entered the circular area in the centre of the room; a collection of couches, seats, desks and ornately decorated wood and precious-metal consoles and dark screens of crystal.
They sat on facing seats. Alan looked up at the glaring image of the sun, his face shining. 'We're safe here,' he told Sessine. 'I've spent subjective millennia exploring, mapping and studying the structure of the Cryptosphere and this is as secure as it gets.'
Sessine glanced around. 'Very impressive. Now.' He sat forward. 'Answer my question.'
'The King. He ordered your death.'
Sessine sat very still for a moment. Then I am lost, he thought. He said, 'Are you sure?'
'Entirely.'
'And the Consistory?'
'They approved it.'
'Well,' Sessine said, running a hand round the back of his neck, 'that would appear to be that.'
'That depends on what you want to do,' the construct said.
'All I wanted was to find out why I was killed.'
'Because you have doubts about the conduct of the war, but most especially because you were starting to doubt the motives of the King and the Consistory and their dedication to the cause of saving people from the Encroachment.'
'I think others feel that way.'
Alan smiled. 'Most of the Consistory doubt the wisdom of the war, and many people think the King and his pals seem less concerned than they ought to be about the Encroachment — a lot of people suspect they have their own space-ship, though they don't. Most people can't do anything about their suspicions; you can — or could have. You have the honour of being the most highly placed and popular potential dissident, the one they felt they might benefit most from making an example of. They were still uncertain whether actually to do it — Adijine himself spoke for letting you live — but you made their minds up for them; you pulled strings to go on that supply convoy to the bomb-workings. Adijine had left strict instructions only somebody with implants could command it.'
'I know. It seemed… wrong.'
'You used your influence, somebody high up enough to know of the King's decree but with a grudge against you let you swing the commission, and when the King and the Consistory found out they didn't even consider trying to order you back; they just had you killed by activating a Chapel spy whose code they had already intercepted.'
Sessine considered this. 'That seems a little desperate.'
The construct shrugged. 'These are desperate times.'
'And who do I have to thank for the decision to let me go in the first place?'
'Flische. Colonel-to-the-court. He's fucking your wife.'
Sessine thought for a moment, staring at his vague reflection in the matt blackness of screen on a console opposite. After some time he sighed.
'What is happening at the workings?' he asked.
'Last year they found a mesturedo, a substance which can attack the fabric of the mega-structure. They've used it to eat through the floor of the solar. From there they built a tube track between the floor and the ceiling along to the wall between the solar and the room above the Chapel; they're currently on the last lap, burrowing through the fabric of the false ceiling directly above Chapel City. When they succeed in opening it they'll drop bombs through.
'The mega-structure fabric tries to defend itself through the crypt. It sends visions; ghosts and demons which attempt to prevent the soldiers and engineers doing the digging. The only way the Army's found to keep their personnel functional — if not sane — is to flood their minds with a loyalty signal; a song of captivity that blanks out everything else and turns the men into automatons.'
'So I would not have been susceptible to this song; so what?'
'So what they are doing there is not only destroying Army personnel, it's destroying parts of the crypt itself.'
'How so?'
'The mega-structure houses filaments of the crypt's hardware. Contrary to popular belief, the Cryptosphere is not a function of some buried horde of super-machines; the whole fastness is permeated with it. There
'What the bomb-workings are doing now is destroying an important nexus of that Cryptospheric structure; it's madness, and it encourages chaos. The crypt-time has slowed down locally by an appreciable additional degree. What is left of humanity is caught between the threat of the Encroachment above and the chaos within the crypt below. The course Adijine and his Consistory are following would seem to ignore one and aggravate the other. At the very least you would have been concerned, sceptical and questioning on discovering all this. They could scarcely risk that, let alone what might have been your most extreme reaction.'
Sessine gave a small, humourless laugh, and shook his head. 'And the war with the Chapel?' he asked matter-of-factly.
'Genuine enough. The Engineers do have something we need, though it's not the information on how to make spacecraft.'
'What is it?'
The construct raised his eyebrows. 'Here we reach the limits of my research. I am not certain.' He shrugged. 'But it is something Adijine and the Consistory consider to be of the utmost importance.'
Sessine shook his head and looked up at the vast orrery hanging silently overhead. It had moved, while he had been listening to the construct. Saturn hung overhead now, immense and gassy, attended by its moons.
'Madness, chaos, crypt-time slowing,' Sessine said, sighing. He stood up and walked round some of the ancient equipment, drawing a hand over the surfaces of the desks and consoles, wondering if this virtual environment included dust. He inspected the tip of his finger. It appeared it did, though only just. He rubbed his fingers together and looked back at his younger self. 'Anything else you want me to assimilate this afternoon?'
'My speculation as to the nature of the prize the Chapel and the King compete for.'
'And what would that be?'
'Can you keep a secret?' His younger self smirked.
Sessine shook his head again. 'Was I really this tiresome?'
The construct laughed. 'This is a secret you must keep even from yourself, for a time at least.'
'Go on,' Sessine said tiredly. 'What is the glittering prize we all pursue?'
The construct grinned broadly. 'A secret passage.'
Sessine looked levelly at him.
4
I stair @ thi big blak beest cumin up thi branch 2wards me.
Av got a gun! I shout (this iz a ly)
… Ah veri mush dout that, thi thing sez. It stops ol thi saim smilin & showin its teef agen. But nway, it sez, shtop being shilly Am heer 2 help u.
I'l bet, I sez, glancin roun & stil tryin 2 figir out a way 2 escape.
… Yesh. If ahd wantid 2 harm u ah cude ? shaken u out ov thare 5 minitsh ago.
O yeh? I sez, hangin on titer. Wel mayb u doan wan 2 kil me mayb u juss wan 2 capture me.
… In whish caysh ahd ? dropt on u from abuv, u shilly boy.
