Maspeth shook her head in confusion. "It was meant to be what it is! You weren't. Maybe the emissary's people can come back from the dead because they don't really die to begin with. But people die. You died! I saw you die."
"I didn't die, I became post-physical." He shook his head angrily. "Look, the only reason the people of Virga die is because we don't have allies to rebuild our bodies. I didn't know that before, none of us did. It was dumb luck that I drowned in an area where post-physical scouts were working. They revived me and made me an offer." His half-smile was back.
Maspeth looked very pale and small now, standing half in shadow by the door as though ready to bolt up the stairs at any moment. "What offer is that?"
Tarvey held out his hand. "The same one I'm making to you now. The offer of immortality."
Maspeth shook her head rapidly and sat down on the bottom step. "What does he mean?" She stared up at Maerta, who had stood with her arms crossed through the whole exchange. "Are you like him?"
"No," said Maerta. "We're not." She put herself in between Maspeth and the shade of John Tarvey. "I think you should leave now. She's not ready for your offer. None of them are."
"That's not for you to say, is it?" He walked up to her, looking her up and down. "What exactly are you, anyway? Why are you here, hiding in the darkness next to Virga's wall? Such an odd place to live. I'm sure my friends can tell me what you are; I'll know soon enough. What I wonder, though, is whether you've told her." He nodded at Maspeth.
--Who stood up and stepped past Maerta to glare into his face. "You are not who you say you are; that's all I need to know. Now leave!" She pointed to the black archway opposite the stairs.
He slouched for a moment, his mouth a moue of disagreement; then he turned on one heel and strode away. "The offer stands," he tossed back. "For all your people." He disappeared through the archway.
Maspeth put her face in her hands for a moment, and Maerta stepped forward, maybe to console her--but Maspeth looked up quickly at her, and Keir could see she was furious.
"Explain this!" she bellowed. Keir's lip-reading software rendered the words in as flat a tone as it had everything else so far; he dearly wished he'd heard her own voice at that moment. Clearly, her tone was electric; even the mechs shifted in some analogue of unease.
Then the doll on her shoulder said something. It spoke at length, while she held her head tilted to listen. Finally she shook her head and stalked to the stairs.
Keir called his dragonflies back, and images and words from the confrontation whirled through his head as he let himself fall back on the bed. He understood it on one leveclass="underline" certainly the virtuals could bring someone back from the dead, it probably happened all the time in areas where they held full sway. It was just that ... why was Leal Maspeth so upset by it? And why the strange dynamic between her and Tarvey--why this "offer" that Tarvey talked about?
Something was going on there, some adult political game he couldn't fathom. Yet he felt he should be able to understand it.
He thought furiously for a while, and then startled himself with a new idea. Maspeth and her people came from a place where transformations and extensions and metamorphoses just didn't happen. In Virga, people were born people and kept their one body all their lives. If part of it broke, like Eustace Loll's leg, that was it--it was broken. Nobody had second bodies or morphont extensions like his dragonflies. So, for Maspeth, a resurrected John Tarvey must have seemed impossible, even an abomination.
He barked a laugh at the ceiling. Yes, that was it ... or part of it. The apparent urgency of Tarvey's "offer" was still a mystery, but ...
Keir flipped over and raised his head to glare at the silent door. He'd never given much thought to what it was actually like in Virga. The important thing about the place was the technological bubble that sheltered it from Artificial Nature; beyond that, he'd just thought of it as a realm of boring backwardness, where primitive humans scrabbled for survival in a state of ignorance and helplessness. Yet, if Virga was also a place where transformations and metamorphoses were impossible ...
He sat up, examining his hands--hands that were smaller, weaker, and smoother than they should be.
Eustace Loll had asked Keir where he would go, if he left Brink. At the time, he'd had no idea; he just needed to get away. Now, though, the answer was obvious.
Somehow, he needed to convince Leal Maspeth that, when she returned to Virga, she must take him with her.
4
"IT'S UNDENIABLE! YOU can't deny it!" He wasn't going to stop or listen to what she had to say; so for what felt like the hundredth time since she'd met Eustace Loll, Leal found herself shaking her head and walking away from him.
The promised airship would be ready tomorrow. She had to hold on to that fact. Soon, very soon, they would be free of this world of oppressive gravity and strange threats. The free airs of Virga were close; but the closer they became, the more strident Loll became in his preaching.
"Someone told him of your encounter with John Tarvey," said the emissary, which rode her shoulder today in the form of the little junk-doll. "Yet you told none of your own people."
She waved a hand irritably. "He makes friends. It's what he does. Maybe he talked to one of the mechs, I don't know."
Loll had opinions about yesterday's encounter, and today he had cornered Leal to demand that she listen to them. It was the same old stuff, though: how could she trust the emissary, this shape-shifting, clearly nonhuman entity that built bodies for itself from nano-stuff and whatever trash might be lying about? It had threatened their home, the city of Sere--had built monstrous forms to gibber and scream at the citizens, and had then fled into the dark, pursued by the fabled sun lighter, Hayden Griffin. Somehow, it had convinced Leal Maspeth that it was benign, and yet--
"And yet humanity already has allies in the greater universe," Loll had said, nearly shouting, as he stood before her in the remote corridor where he'd found her. "Our true allies! Human, like us! And more than that--immortal! I told you we should heed Tarvey's words the first time he came back to us, but you fled. Leal, you're still fleeing, but from what? The mere chance that you might be wrong?"
Just thinking of those words made her pick up her pace, and she would have been half-running now if the gravity in Brink were not so low. Each step she took lifted her off the floor for a couple of seconds, and the delay frustrated her attempt to act out her mood. After a few minutes she had to laugh at her own petulance, and she came to a stop in the intersection of several black-mouthed corridors.
This area was still within the precincts of Complication Hall. Tarvey's shade couldn't reach her here, if indeed it still prowled the city. By itself the darkness didn't frighten Leal; she had grown up in a sunless country, after all. So, after getting her bearings, she set off determinedly down one of the less-traveled ways.
"Where are we going?" asked the emissary mildly.
"Maerta told me there's a room where you can see stars."
"Ah." It said nothing more, and she quirked a smile in the dark. The junk-doll often said "ah" when it encountered human behavior that it didn't understand. The less of its nanomaterial there was in one of the emissary's bodies, the stupider it was. At least the doll could speak, though, unlike many of its constructions.
It had taken Leal quite a while to realize that the buildings of this "metropoloid," Brink, weren't just anchored on the skin of Aethyr--many of them penetrated that skin, so that above they clawed at the sky, and below, airtight galleries and inverted towers hung like icicles in the actual vacuum of space. All she had to do was find the lowest level of the Hall and locate stairs that continued down ... search down some curving corridors, walk yet more stairs, and pace through some dark arches ... and there it was.