Excession

It de-coupled its engine fields from the energy grid and plunged those vortices of pure energy deep into the fabric of its own Mind, tearing its intellect apart in a supernova of sentient agony.

VIII

Genar-Hofoen reappeared, exiting from the front door of the tower.

'Up here,' croaked a thin, hoarse voice.

He looked up and saw the black bird on the parapet. He stood there watching it for a moment, but it didn't look like it was coming down. He frowned and went back into the tower.

'Well?' it asked when he joined it at the summit of the tower.

He nodded. 'Locked,' he confirmed.

The bird had insisted that he was a captive, along with it. He'd thought maybe there was just something wrong with his terminal. It had suggested he attempted to get out the way he had come in. He'd just tried; the lift door in the tower's cellar was closed, and as solid and unmoving as the stones surrounding it.

Genar-Hofoen leant back against the parapet, staring with a troubled expression at the tower's translucent dome. He'd had a quick look at each of the levels as he'd climbed the winding stair. The tower's rooms looked furnished and yet bare as well, all the personal stuff he and Dajeil had added to it missing. It was like the original had been when they'd first arrived on Telaturier, forty-five years ago.

'Told you.'

'But why?' Genar-Hofoen asked, trying not to sound plaintive. He'd never even heard of a ship keeping somebody captive before.

''Cause we're prisoners,' the bird told him, sounding oddly pleased with itself.

'So you're not an avatar; you're not part of the ship?'

'Na; I'm an independent entity, me,' the bird said proudly, spreading its feathers. It turned its head almost right round, glancing backwards. 'Currently being followed by some bloody missile,' it said loudly. 'But never mind.' It rotated its head back to look at him. 'So what did you do to annoy the ship?' it asked, black eyes twinkling. Genar-Hofoen got the impression it was enjoying his dismay.

'Nothing!' he protested. The bird cocked its head at him. He blew out a breath. 'Well…' he looked around at where he was. His brows flexed. 'Yes, well, from our surroundings, maybe the ship doesn't agree.'

'Oh, this is nothing,' said the bird. 'This is just a Bay; just a hangar sort of thing. Not even a klick long. You should have seen the one outside, when we still had an outside. Whole sea we had, whole sea and a whole atmosphere. Two atmospheres.'

'Yes,' the man said. 'Yes, I heard.'

'Sort of all for her, really. Except it turned out its nibs had an ulterior motive, too. All that stuff; became engine, you know. But otherwise. It was all for her, for all that time.'

The man nodded. It looked like he was thinking.

'You're him, aren't you?' the bird said. It sounded pleased with itself.

'I'm who?' he asked.

'The one that left her. The one that was here, with her. The real here, I mean. The original here.'

Genar-Hofoen looked away. 'If you mean Dajeil; yes, she and I lived in a tower like this one once, on an island that looked like this place.'

'An-hah!' the bird said, jumping up and down and shaking its feathers. 'I see! You're the bad guy!'

Genar-Hofoen scowled at the bird. 'Fuck you,' he said.

It cackled with laughter. 'That's why you're here! Ho-ho; you'll be lucky to get off at all, you will! Ha ha ha!'

'And what did you do, arse-hole?' Genar-Hofoen asked the bird, more in the hope of annoying the creature than because he really cared.

'Oh,' the bird said, drawing itself up and settling its feathers down in a dignified sort of way. 'I was a spy!' it said proudly.

'A spy?'

'Oh yes,' the bird said, sounding smug. 'Forty years I spent, listening, watching. Reported back to my master. Using the Stored ones who were going back. Left messages on them. Forty years and never once discovered. Well, until three weeks ago. Rumbled, then. Maybe even before. Can't tell. But I did my best. Can't ask better than that.' It started preening itself.

The man's eyes narrowed. 'Who were you reporting back to?'

'None of your business,' the bird said, looking up from its preening. It took a precautionary couple of hop- steps backwards along the parapet, just to make sure it was well out of reach of the human.

Genar-Hofoen crossed his arms and shook his head. 'What's this fucking crazy ship up to?'

'Oh, it's off to see the Excession,' the bird said. 'At some lick, too.'

'This thing at Esperi?' the man asked.

'Heading straight for it,' the bird confirmed. 'What it told me, anyway. Can't see why it'd lie. Could be, I suppose. Wouldn't put it past it. But don't think it is. Straight for it. Has been for the past twenty-two days. You want my opinion? Going to give it you anyway. I think it's stooping.' The creature put its head on one side. 'Familiar with the term?'

Genar-Hofoen nodded absently. He didn't like the sound of this.

'Stooping,' the bird repeated. 'If you ask me. Thing's mad. Been a bit loopy the last four decades. Gone totally off the boulevard now. In the hills and bouncing along full speed for the cliff edge. That's my opinion. And I've been round its loopiness for forty years. I know, I do. I can tell. This thing's dafter than a jar of words. I'm getting away on the Jaundiced Outlook, if it'll let me. It being the Sleeper. Don't think the Jaundiced bears me any ill will. Shouldn't think it does. No.' Then, as though remembering a rich joke, it shook its head and said, 'The bad guy; ha! You, on the other hand. You'll be here forty years you will, chum. If it doesn't wreck itself ramming this excession thing, that is. Ha! How'd it get you here anyway? You come here to see old perpetually pregnant?'

Genar-Hofoen looked momentarily stricken. 'It's true then; she never did have the child?'

'Yep,' the bird said. 'Still in her. Supposed to be hale and hearty, too. If you can believe that. So I was told. Sounds unlikely. Addled, I'd have thought. Or turned to stone by now. But there you are. Either way, she just isn't having it. Ha!'

The man pinched his lower lip with his fingers, looking troubled.

'What did you say brought you here?' the bird asked.

It waited. 'Ahem!' it said loudly.

'What?' the man asked. The bird repeated the question.

The man looked like he still hadn't heard, then he shrugged. 'I came here to talk to a dead person; a Storee.'

'They've all gone,' said the bird. 'Hadn't you heard?'

The man shook his head. 'Not one of the live ones,' he said. 'Somebody without a bod, somebody who's Stored in the ship's memory.'

'Na, they've gone too,' the bird said, lifting one wing to peck briefly underneath. 'Dropped them off at Dreve,' it continued. 'Complete download. Upload. Acrossload. Whatever you call it. Didn't even keep copies.'

'What?' the man said, stepping towards the bird.

'Seriously,' the creature said, taking a couple of hops backwards on the stonework of the parapet. 'Honest.' The man was staring at it now. 'No, really; so I was told. I could have been misinformed. Can't see why. But it's possible. Doubt it though. They've gone. That was my information. Gone. Ship said it didn't want even the copies aboard. Just in case.'

The man stared wildly at it for a bit longer. 'Just in case wbat?' he cried, stepping forward again.