Tepho searched his subordinate’s face for the slightest sign of insincerity, was unable to fi?nd any, and felt an unexpected sense of warmth suffuse his crippled body. Because if Shaz respected what he’d been able to accomplish, then it was real and couldn’t be taken away from him. So, even though the technologist would normally be furious regarding the combat variant’s apparent failure to retrieve Logos, Tepho found himself in a forgiving mood. “Thank you, Shaz. . . . We taught them a lesson they won’t forget! Kufu was successful in one regard, however . . . Did you see the emperor’s tomb? The bastard brought it down! We took a lot of territory but couldn’t capture it. Still, the initial reports from our wings seem to suggest that there wasn’t anything valuable inside. Not unless you like mummies that is!”
The joke was a poor one but a sure sign of what kind of mood the administrator was in. The combat variant’s laugh had a harsh, barking quality. “No, I didn’t see the pyramid, but that would explain the lights I saw to the south. Kufu and his people must be very disappointed.”
“I certainly hope so!” Tepho said cheerfully. “But enough of that. . . . You were on an adventure of your own. How did that go?”
Tepho clearly believed that the mission had been a failure, but being in a good mood, was prepared to accept a negative report. But Shaz had a surprise for him, a rather pleasant surprise, which made the moment all the more enjoyable. Slowly, so that the other man could appreciate the implications of what he was doing, the variant worked his way out of the now bloodstained jacket. Though slightly damaged, the raptor was on-line, which meant that servos whined and energy weapons tracked Shaz as he took six paces forward and laid the garment across Tepho’s lap. “I’m happy to report that the mission was a success. Chairman Tepho—I give you Logos.”
Even though the technologist knew that the fabled AI was housed in a mutable piece of clothing, his expectations had been low, and it wasn’t until the combat variant began to remove the nondescript jacket, that the truth suddenly became clear. Slowly, and with some diffi?culty, the technologist stood. Then, having slipped his arms into the computer’s sleeves, he allowed the fabric to settle over his misshapen body. The jacket was too big at fi?rst, but that changed as Logos made some adjustments. “My God,” Tepho said breathlessly, “it’s real!”
“Of course I’m real,” the AI responded waspishly. “And so is Socket. I suggest that we leave immediately.”
Tepho decided that the voice, which seemed to originate from behind his neck, would take some getting used to. As would the AI’s rather acerbic personality. “We’ll leave when I’m ready,” Tepho said fi?rmly. “Besides, what’s the hurry?
Socket has been on hold for more than a thousand years. A few more days won’t make any difference.”
Logos wanted to say that a few more days could make a difference, especially if Rebo and Norr managed to get their hands on One-Two, but didn’t want his new biologicals to learn the truth about Sogol. Because once they knew about the other AI, they would inevitably want to possess her as well, a possibility that wasn’t likely to help Logos obtain what he wanted. “Yes, well, what you say is true,” the AI allowed carefully. “But the sooner the better.”
“Of course,” Tepho replied soothingly, as he glanced at the raptor. “But we’ll need to be ready for anything . . . which means I have some packing to do.”
That was when Shaz realized that if Tepho had been reliant on the raptor before, he was even more so now, having bonded with the machine during combat. Which meant the raptor would have to be disassembled and rebuilt each time they made a jump. Not that it mattered because the technologist was correct. Socket had been waiting for a thousand years. A few days, a week, even a month wouldn’t make much difference now.
The combat variant was about to leave when Tepho stopped him. “Shaz . . .”
“Yes?”
“You did a good job. Thank you.”
The variant delivered an abbreviated bow, shimmered, and disappeared.
A crack of blue-pink light ran the length of the eastern horizon as Norr bent to light the bottom of the funeral pyre. The sensitive was rewarded with a loud crackling sound as fl?ames found their way up through the dry fuel. The pile of wood had been stacked on top of a dune, about half a mile east of Kufu’s encampment, and constituted but one of more than fi?ve hundred such fi?res that presently dotted the desert. Urgent fi?res, that were required to cleanse the battlefi?eld before the sun could rise and turn the entire area into a sea of corruption.
But this fi?re was special because it was Bo Hoggles who lay on top of the pyre, his huge war hammer at his side. Rebo stepped forward to place a comforting arm around Norr’s shoulders, only to discover that the sensitive was crying. “He lives on,” the runner said quietly. “You, of all people, know that.”
Norr made use of a handkerchief to dab at her eyes.
“That’s true. . . . But I will miss his strength, loyalty, and courage.”
“Yes,” Rebo agreed somberly. “I will, too.”
The fl?ames found the top of the pyre, tried to leap into the sky, and sent sparks up to touch it. And, as Norr watched the still-glowing embers fl?oat away, she knew there was another reason for her tears. Hoggles had been in love with her, and had it been otherwise, would probably be back on Derius, Thara, or Ning, building a life for himself. But the variant had chosen to follow her instead, to take care of the woman that he loved, even if that meant delivering her into someone else’s arms.
There was a mad crackling sound, followed by an explosion of sparks, as the funeral pyre collapsed in on itself. The only other mourners were six heavies who didn’t know Hoggles but had volunteered to help because they were brothers of a sort. They took half a dozen steps backward as a wall of heat sought to wrap them in a warm embrace.
“So,” Rebo said, as he guided Norr back to a more comfortable position. “What now? It’s pretty clear that the Techno Society has Logos . . . and it wouldn’t be realistic to think that we’re going to get him back.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” the sensitive agreed. “But we have the ring, which means that we can locate One-Two, which means we can activate Socket.”
“Assuming we get there fi?rst,” Rebo observed.
“Yes, assuming we get there fi?rst.”
Rebo eyed the fi?re. “So, we’re going down into the city of Kahoun.”
“I am,” the variant answered simply. “I have to. For the man who was my father, for Bo Hoggles, and for what remains of the human race.”
Rebo sighed. “Damn. . . . I was afraid you’d say something like that.”
Norr turned to look up into his face. Her eyes were huge—and still rimmed with tears. “You don’t have to come.”
The runner’s hand came up to cup her chin. “Oh, but I’m afraid I do,” he said gently, and kissed her lips. Something gave, the fi?re crackled, and a column of red stars took to the sky.
TEN
The Planet Haafa
Safe below the burning sands, and surrounded by his scien-tists, the emperor spent many happy days in the city of Kahoun.
—Heva Manos, advisor to Emperor Hios,
in his biography, A Web of Stars