‘So who exactly am I talking to right now? Is your name really Horst Sachs?’
‘That is the name of the individual occupying this body at this moment, yes,’ Sachs replied. ‘Of all of us, we – or rather, I – spend the most time in this body, but whatever you and I say to each other is heard by all.’
‘And where are you the rest of the time?’
The Ambassador shrugged. ‘In other places, other bodies – even other times, if duty calls me into the Founder Network. Now do you understand why Antonov did to you what he did? He was saving your life – and his own.’
‘No.’ Luc shook his head. ‘That’s not what you said to me before. You said I was just one life measured against billions.’
‘Much has changed since then, Mr Gabion. We did not yet fully understand your role in current events. Look.’
The Ambassador reached into a pocket and pulled out something metallic that squirmed in the open palm of his hand. Luc stared at the writhing thing with horrible fascination.
‘So why did Antonov put one of those things in me, instead of using it on himself?’
‘Because he was already equipped with the more primitive form of lattice still used by the Council,’ the Ambassador explained. ‘It cannot be removed, even by surgery. The only way to ensure his survival, or that of any member of the Temur Council, would be to acquire a clone body pre-equipped with its own lattice, then place backups of his preserved mind-state into that new body. Since such means were not available to him while he was trapped on Aeschere, the only option left to him under the circumstances was to imprint a number of his memories and some fragment of his personality onto a device such as this one, and implant it within you.’
‘Except that it’s killing me.’
‘Killing the body you currently occupy, yes,’ the Ambassador agreed, ‘but the same cannot be said for your mind. With the aid of your lattice, everything that defines you – every thought, memory, and learned skill, along with the manifold and near-infinite interrelationships between those thoughts and memories – can be stored, shuffled, or copied indefinitely, so long as there is Coalition instantiation technology to receive it all.’
Luc stared at the Ambassador’s single gloved hand. ‘That’s why you wear those gloves, isn’t it? Even shaking someone’s hand . . .’
‘Has considerably deeper meaning in our culture than in yours, yes,’ the Ambassador agreed. ‘It can allow the sharing of the most intimate gestures and thoughts, or it can reveal the very essence of one’s soul. When everything and everyone around you is capable of either imbuing you with its own thoughts and memories, or of absorbing your own, one must be careful in the extreme. Come.’
The Ambassador stood and pulled his glove back on, then reached down, helping Luc upright. Luc found himself wondering what kind of pronoun you used for more than one person taking turns sharing a single body – or was it safer just to refer to Ambassador Sachs as ‘they’?
The airlock door finally opened, letting them pass through into the now re-pressurized dock. The air inside was filled with the stink of burning plastic, and a pile of half-melted metal in one corner, still radiating heat, was only just recognizable as the remains of a Sandoz mechant. Luc saw that a lone flier sat in a launching cradle at the centre of the bay, watched over by one of the Ambassador’s own mechants. The flier’s hatch hissed open as they approached.
‘It’s best you leave immediately,’ said the Ambassador. ‘But first I have some more information for you. Within the past few days, an attack took place on an orbital facility above Darwin. The raid was both unexpected and unexpectedly sophisticated, and it appears an artefact originating from the Founder Network, in storage aboard that orbital facility, may indeed have been removed from it. Our consensus, given what you’ve already told us, is that the raid must have been carried out by agents working on behalf of Father Cheng.’
‘But can you stop them from bringing the artefact, whatever it is, back to Temur?’
‘Unfortunately, it may already be too late,’ the Ambassador replied with a pained expression. ‘Not long after the raid, there was an unexpected breach of security at the Darwin–Temur gate.’
Luc felt his insides turn hollow. ‘What kind of breach?’
‘Special Envoys originating from the Tian Di passed back through the Darwin–Temur gate less than half a day ago. On further investigation, it seems one of the Envoys did not precisely match our records. Our conclusion is that one of the Envoys was replaced, presumably by whichever agent acquired the artefact for Cheng.’
‘The last time I spoke to Zelia, she said the Council’s effectively gone to war with itself.’
‘We can corroborate that,’ said the Ambassador. ‘We have observed fighting in the vicinity of Liebenau and the Red Palace.’
‘Can’t you hold off your invading forces for a little while longer?’ Luc pleaded. ‘I have all the proof I need to discredit Cheng in the eyes of all but his most loyal supporters. I just need an opportunity to show it to them.’
‘We can perhaps delay for a few hours,’ the Ambassador admitted. ‘But Cheng appears to be winning the battle for control of Vanaheim. That will leave us no choice but to subjugate his forces, and Vanaheim, with utmost prejudice.’
‘I’ll talk to Zelia de Almeida, tell her everything you’ve told me. She can take it to the rest of the Council and make them understand just how bad things have become.’
The Ambassador thought for a moment. ‘Twelve hours,’ he said. ‘Is that enough?’
‘Not nearly enough.’
Sachs smiled gently. ‘But enough for now.’
The station emitted a series of howling, metallic shrieks, and Luc reached out to grab hold of the flier’s hatch as the station shuddered around them. An automated voice sounded, announcing in calm tones that anyone remaining on board the Sequoia should evacuate immediately.
‘What about you?’ Luc shouted over the din. ‘Why the hell won’t you come with me?’
‘We told you, the flier only has room for one. Besides, your chances are considerably improved if we don’t join you.’
‘Why?’
‘We intend to destroy the Sequoia immediately following your departure.’
‘What?’
‘At the very least, the detonation should disguise your departure, otherwise you would likely be blown out of the sky long before you reached the surface. And please remember, Mr Gabion, this is hardly an act of sacrifice. In fact, I – or rather, Horst Sachs – fully intend to speak to you again, regardless of what happens to either this body or yours.’
The station shook again. ‘Then I should go,’ said Luc, his throat tight.
‘You should be aware,’ the Ambassador added, ‘that we took the opportunity to make some necessary adjustments to your lattice when we made physical contact.’
Luc’s eyes narrowed. ‘What kind of adjustments?’
‘Your lattice required optimization. The crude surgery performed on you was insufficient to allow the full use of its potential.’
‘What potential?’
‘The ability to control mechants in the way you saw us do, to subvert attack-systems, or even boost physical response times. We have also given you the means to track down the stolen artefact, which we strongly urge you to do.’
Luc nodded wordlessly as the hatch hissed into place before him. He pulled himself into his seat restraints, then watched as the doors at the far end of the dock swung open to reveal a vista of stars.
With any luck, his departure wouldn’t be anywhere near as bad as his arrival.