The Machinery Of Light Part 18

The image cuts out. The Operative's back in black.

"What the h.e.l.l's he doing?" asks the Operative.

"Allowing us to do what we're we're doing, I'm guessing." doing, I'm guessing."

Which is something he's never done before, even though he's lived with its latency all his life. Even after so recently realizing his true nature-when Sinclair restored his memories, reminding him that all his life he's had intimations of Lynx and Sarmax's mental patterns; all that time catching glimpses of those other minds-and all of it was nothing compared to what he's seeing now: Haskell's burning in his brain. He can't help but draw back in pure astonishment.

"You're beautiful," he mutters.

"Shut the h.e.l.l up," she says.

"I mean it."

"Said the boy who cried wolf and kept on crying. They're operating on my f.u.c.king mind again again, and you're the one who started it."

"I-wanted to have you for myself."

"You never will."

"I get that now."

"Then you also get that you're not getting out of this one."

"I've heard that before."

"I don't believe this," she snarls. "You're out cold on that floor-Riley just prodded your face with his f.u.c.king boot boot-and you're still convinced you're walking out of here."

"Because they need me," says the Operative.

"For one last service," she replies.

And then he's history," says Maschler. "He'll walk into Szilard's ship while you fly shotgun via your amplifier."

"My what?" asks Haskell.

"Your body," body," says Riley, gesturing at her. says Riley, gesturing at her.

"You mean my new one."

"Yours all along," says Maschler. "It's got your DNA."

"Who grew it?"

"Montrose," says Riley.

"How did she get my specifications?"

"She got into Sinclair's files way back."

"You're kidding me."

"We're the lords of information. Why act so surprised?"

"Because you're f.u.c.king crazy," says Haskell. "You've only got whatever Sinclair wanted you to-"

"More theories," says Maschler.

"Said the man whose boss tried to build another Manilishi."

"Relax," says Riley. "All we have is you."

"Why I said tried." tried."

So how are we gonna do this?" says Linehan "We're already halfway there, man."

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"

"Them," says Lynx-waves a languid hand at the sleepers all around.

"I'm not following."

"That's 'cause you're not listening. These guys thought they'd gotten the long ticket, but now they're our ticket to the real show."

"How's that?"

"Their life-support systems are run by this ship's mainframe."

"Oh."

"Oh," says Lynx. He fingers a wire almost lovingly. "From where I sidestep into the security databases." says Lynx. He fingers a wire almost lovingly. "From where I sidestep into the security databases."

"Nice one," says Linehan.

"Szilard will find it less enthralling," says Lynx.

So how are we going to hit that c.o.c.kpit?" asks Sarmax. Jarvin looks at him. "How were you you guys figuring on doing it?" guys figuring on doing it?"

Sarmax looks at Spencer. "How were were we figuring?" we figuring?"

"f.u.c.ked if I know. There's no way in."

Jarvin laughs. "That's why you had to come to me."

"All right, a.s.shole," says Sarmax. "How are are we getting in?" we getting in?"

"By staying in plain sight."

They're going to have you just walk in there," she says.

"I realize that," he replies.

But what he hadn't realized was the path that InfoCom devised to thread the s.p.a.ceCom needle. He only got it just now. He's going to walk in there, all right. But he's not going to be alone.

"I'm coming with you," says Haskell.

"One last time," he replies.

It's all he can hope for, really. He's still out like a light, and her voice is the only contact he's got with anything outside the island of his own mind. But that voice keeps on wavering in clarity, like a radio signal shifting across frequencies. The Operative thinks of Maschler tuning the dials, thinks of the creature called Control messing with Haskell's brain.

"They're killing all their birds with one stone," he says.

"A page from your playbook," she replies.

Not that the Operative needs to be informed of that. Uncovering something's true capabilities means you have to push that thing to its limits. Which presumably is precisely what Stephanie Montrose is doing right now. Her servants are going to turn the Manilishi inside out while Haskell's mind rides shotgun on the run on Szilard.

"Along with this body," says Haskell.

Exactly," says Maschler.

He's looking down at her the way a doctor might look on a particularly problematic patient. The furrows on his brow are making his eyebrows do strange things.

"You're Carson's ticket onto the Redeemer," Redeemer," he adds. "Szilard's new flagship." he adds. "Szilard's new flagship."

"A step down from the Montana." Montana."

"Or a step up," says Maschler. "The Redeemer's Redeemer's one of the Cla.s.s V colony ships." one of the Cla.s.s V colony ships."

She mulls that over.

"One of the fully loaded fully loaded colony ships," adds Riley. colony ships," adds Riley.

"d.a.m.n," she says.

"Szilard's the man with the plan," says Maschler.

Riley snorts. "He could be Noah to his own little ark if he had to."

"Except he's not going to," she says.

"He won't need to," says Maschler. "Our best estimate is that the combined strength of lunar gunnery and the L2 fleet will take down those Eurasian megaships."

Riley coughs. "After which we'll just have to see how much we have left to deal with the rest of the Eastern forces coming up the gravity well behind them."

"None of which is Szilard's problem," says Maschler.

"Given that he'll be dead by then," says Riley.

Haskell looks puzzled. "So what's the story that Montrose has fed Szilard to get him to open up?"

"What do you mean?"

"Carson shows up on a flight from Congreve carrying the Manilishi, along with a little note from Montrose that she's managed to clone the most powerful weapon ever built and here it is and go knock yourself out?"

Maschler laughs. "Not quite."

Lynx pulls the wires away from his head in a single stroke. "Let's go," he says, gesturing at the panel he's slid from the wall.

"That looks like a tight fit," says Linehan.

"Less so for me," says Lynx, disappearing through the hole. Linehan pulls his way in after him-finds himself in a narrow s.p.a.ce that seems to parallel the walls of the room they've just left. He follows Lynx, pushing through wires like they're undergrowth in a jungle.

"The support systems around the sleepers," says Lynx. "Try not to damage anything. We're trying to keep a low profile."

Linehan's hoping that Lynx has got any alarms covered. The razor's small enough to sidle through the narrow s.p.a.ce. The mech's a different story. Wires are getting torn. Circuitry's getting shredded.

"Tell me we're getting somewhere," he mutters.

"I am," says Lynx. "But you'd better pick up the pace."

But that's tough when wires are all Linehan can see. He shoves through them, thinking back to some scene in some book some girl told him about a long time ago. Some children were wandering in a closet and came out into some other land. Linehan can relate. He feels like he's stepped into some other world himself these last few days. Seasoned wet-ops specialist, seen-and-done-it-all, wham-bam-thanks-man Linehan, the legend of the s.p.a.ceCom hard corps-and then suddenly he got launched against the Rain and propelled into a brand-new life. Linehan gets that lives like that don't last. Ayahuasca's afterglow reinforces the point, confirms it. Existence is moving toward some climax he won't survive. He's pretty sure he doesn't want to. And now he's emerging from the wires ...

"Holy f.u.c.k," he says.

"It gets even better," says Lynx.

The special liaison of the Praesidium has left his quarters and is proceeding toward the c.o.c.kpit of the Hammer of the Skies Hammer of the Skies. He didn't have a bodyguard when he got on, but he's got two of them now. Zone is showing they were aboard already. Working undercover, all with the highest possible clearance: Jarvin, Spencer, and Sarmax have gone up three levels of ladders, taken an elevator up another ten floors. Now they're approaching the elevator banks that are one of only two routes leading to the c.o.c.kpit. A mixture of Chinese and Russian soldiers cl.u.s.ter around those banks. They're obviously on high alert. They seem to be as busy watching one another as those who approach.

"Let me do the talking," says Jarvin.

What are they talking about now?" asks the Operative.

"Maschler and Riley?"

"Who else?"

It's not like there's anybody else that matters right now. Unless there are more voices in Haskell's head. He wouldn't put it past her. Her signal's all he's got-even louder than his internal monologue. He no longer knows what he wants.

"Yes you do," says Haskell.

"What?"

She says nothing-though it sounds like she's laughing at him. Or maybe it's his own mind cackling as it finally goes over the edge. He finds himself grasping at anything that's solid. He can think of only one thing.

"So what the h.e.l.l's the plan?" he asks.

"You already know the plan," she replies. "Convince Szilard that you stole the Manilishi from Montrose."

"That's not the only possibility," says the Operative.