Noah came looping down between the lightnings, swooped to his perch. "Yes, Lord? Have you been unwell, Lord?"
Mad Simon Tregesser laughter hammered the cavity walls. But it was Tregesser laughter a calculated touch off key. "Let's just say I set aside the Great Mission momentarily. In order to confound my beloved offspring."
Simon's attention was fixed on Noah absolutely, seeking nuances of treachery.
Simon stood accused of countless crimes. But stupidity did not appear on the True Bill.
Noah gone a while. Acting a little odd when he returned. Lupo suggesting he trust nobody with news of the switch. Meaning Lupo knew about Noah. So what? Lupo knew about every damned thing. Lupo made knowing his business.
A few questions in the Pylon. Enough oddities about Noah's itinerary on Prime to convert suspicion into intuitive certainty. To give him an idea for doubledealing Valerena into a corner. Teach the little bitch that she was playing with the big boys.
Noah covered well but not well enough. His reaction damned him.
Tregesser understood instantly how he had been reached. Valerena had bought him with women. He had not given enough weight to the artifact's lusts.
He would not make that mistake again.
Noah would get no more chances. But he would make himself useful.
Carefully, carefully, Simon led Noah to the suspicion that he was dealing with his master's Other, swiftly switched the moment Provik had sniffed Valerena's move. Then he sent the artifact off on a trivial task.
Lupo One secured the communicator, yielded to his chief of staff, headed for the suite.
The family gathered. He said, "Simon just told me to ready a Voyager for a trip to Prime."
Six said, "And the artifact will go along? Under the impression the switch has been made already?"
Three said, "If we're going back, we'd better think about that Guardship. Be a bitch to sneak in without it noticing."
"I'll leave you to that," One said. "Consider, too, the chance Simon is being too clever."
Lupo One was studying a holochart of Canon space when Simon entered main sector Central Staff Info Center. It floated in midair, away from normal business. It had a beanish shape fifty meters long, thirty-three wide, twenty-four high. Three million plus stars and stellar objects were represented. At a touch he could add or delete or zoom.
One had the chart retreating into the past, one hundred thousand years to the minute. He had only a few select strands portrayed. Without looking away he asked, "What happens when natural stellar motion moves anchor points so the strands connecting them come into contact?"
"I wouldn't know, Lupo."
"We can find out a little over six years from now. The strand connecting B. Shellica and B. Philipia will cross the strand connecting N. Nuttica and B. Belnapii. It'll be the first such impact since humans reached the Web."
"B. Belnapii? Didn't we have an interest there?"
"We still have a strong interest. Shaga timber."
"Why are you playing with this?"
"Knowledge. Knowledge is power, Simon."
"Firepower is power. I had that put in so you could track Guardships, not so you could play games."
"Do you suppose they have something like it?"
"Better. They've been prowling the Web forever. And you know I'm not the Simon Tregesser Other, don't you?"
"I know."
"Which means you've figured out what I'm up to. You know about my pet artifact."
"Yes."
"Is there anything you don't know, Lupo?"
"I don't know what happens when two strands collide. I don't know what causes tag ends. I don't know how the Web came into being. There's a lot I don't know."
"Is the Voyager ready?"
"Yes."
"There'll be an extra passenger. But you knew that, too."
"I anticipated it."
"Damn! I ought to kick out and give the whole mess to you. The hell with Valerena and the Directorate. Let them chew dirt. Let somebody have it who can keep reins on the monster."
Lupo One switched back to the display he had been running. "I wouldn't take the Chair, Simon."
"You wouldn't, would you? You cold bastard. You don't want it. I guess that's why I trust you. I just wish to hell I knew what you do want."
"I want to know where the Web came from. I want to know how new strands appear and feathery old ones suddenly get mended. That's happened three times in my lifetime. Nobody knows anything but that it happened."
"Single-minded bastard. Get a crew together. I'll let you know when I'm ready."
One toyed with the holochart for half a minute, then glanced at the departing bell. Time for an update.
— 25 —
A. Saarica. J.M. Ledetica. C. Phritsia. In each system Canon garrison had isolated the infection, then had eradicated it. White corpuscles on the job. WarAvocat was surprised. He had little respect for Canon's troops or officers.
His own competence and motives were under fire. The Deified were at their meddlesome worst, carping and second-guessing.
It had been too long since VII Gemina had seen any excitement. They all wanted a piece. A bigger piece than anyone else got.
And there was the complication of his predecessor. The Deified Makarska Vis resented his having robbed her of old prey. If she could not rip out the Ku's heart she would have his instead. So far she had been only a spiteful nuisance. Even so, he was glad he was Dictat. The honor gave him powers with which to suppress her pettiness.
VII Gemina broke off the Web at the Goriot world M. Anstii 3.
A patch of air in WarAvocat's quarters buzzed, nagging him. "Damn it!"
"Shall I withdraw, Lord?" The artifact's voice was the whisper of silver bells.
"No." It was too late to stop. He could not let go till it was done.
It was too late for Lady Midnight, too. The first tremors of pleasure had begun to torment her. Even with a man she loathed there was an early point when there was no stopping till racking, violent spasms reduced her to a comatose state of satiation.
The gene engineers had made her a slave to her flesh.
How could anyone have discarded a creature so exquisitely useful? Was there some hidden flaw in her?
"WarAvocat," he told the shimmer. "I'm occupied. What is it?"
The artifact moaned, a little cry almost of despair.
The air murmured, "We're off the Web, WarAvocat. House Goriot has appealed for help putting down a rebellion. Situation data suggests it isn't as ugly as V. Rothica 4."
WarAvocat gasped. Didn't the artifact realize he had business? No. Of course not. There would be no thoughts in her head, only needs burning to be filled. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
His attempt to hurry Midnight was defeated by the skill of the engineers who had designed her. When held helpless, her body was more mercilessly demanding.
WarAvocat entered WarCentral dazed. He had trouble taking in the information displayed. Deified glowered down from their screens. Or, like the Deified Makarska Vis, they smirked. He had betrayed a weakness.
That damned artifact! She had the power to obsess a man with that body....
Awed realization. Never before had he considered an artifact as possessed of any power at all.
The M. Anstii uprising had followed the classic pattern. The rebels had broken Goriot Glume High City's moorings and had destabilized its grav suppressors so that it was adrift in the planet's upper airs.
Beyond the stupidities that plagued every insurrection, the local rebels had failed to take into account M. Anstii's special circumstances. House Goriot's principal business was natural gems tones. M. Anstii was blessed with a profusion, some existing nowhere else. Forever plagued by jewel thieves, House Goriot had developed an elaborate private security force. The rebels had overlooked it in the first blush of bloodletting. The force had had time to get organized.