Parts of Africa, Europe and the Americas had been hit by the seed pods bearing Crom Cruach, which had started to transform the terrain around it without Rolleston’s sick guidance. Even now people were fighting to control its spread.
The net was free of Demiurge and God. It was back to the way it had been before. It was as if all our efforts to see the truth told had been for nothing. There were unconfirmed reports of Pagan’s ghost being seen on the net. There were few sightings of the gods of the net and none of them were confirmed. That was good, as I couldn’t think that they’d be very happy with me. Still I couldn’t allow myself to be too frightened to go online.
A terrified assault shuttle pilot had taken us off the Bush. Bran had ordered the Black Squadron creatures to help us off and carry the dead. Cutting Cat out of the biomechanical spider’s body had been brutal. Rannu had had to help Merle out of the room.
Of course we hadn’t been party to the negotiations and had no idea what the Grey Lady had said to Akhtar and the other leaders, but she and the Black Squadrons were allowed to take the Bush and the surviving frigates and leave on the proviso that they never returned and never had any contact with humanity again. It seemed risky but I was sure that Bran would keep her word. I think it was a problem the world leaders were glad to see the back of. It was funny to think of one lone woman leading a fleet of monsters who’d sold their humanity.
More than three quarters of the people possessed who survived the mass exorcism committed suicide. Of the remaining quarter many ended up in mental institutes. After all, possession by Demiurge was little more than viral insanity. I wondered if, after his exposure to Rolleston’s insanity, Jakob would have been okay. I think he would have survived, but it would have haunted and tormented him for the rest of his life.
At least after the exorcism most of the relevant people had stood down or surrendered their commands. We didn’t find out until afterwards, but there had been a significant fifth column operating on many of the ships that had been under Rolleston’s command, and during the action there had been a number of mutinies. Most of them had been put down by automated systems controlled by Demiurge. In many ways they were the bravest of the people who had stood up to fight. They’d had nearly no chance and still done it.
Lalande 2 had declared independence. There were some familiar faces in the managing council. The corps had kicked up a fuss. They would have to pay and treat people reasonably. It would bite into their profits. Tough shit. Nobody on Earth had the stomach for any more fighting. Besides, it would be much cheaper for Earth if the colonies had to look after themselves. The Sol system would remain their biggest trading partner. We were always hungry for resources. The other colonies were expected to follow suit.
Sharcroft was dead. He liked spending time in sense simulations, power fantasies where he was whole, young, physically powerful and worshipped. Where he could hurt people. Pagan had found this out when we’d worked at the Limbo facility. Despite his flaws and jealousy, Pagan had truly been one of the most remarkable hackers of his generation and had stepped up to save us all. Again. He had developed a black assassination program. With God gone, Sharcroft had started empire-building again. Rannu had sneaked into the Limbo facility and introduced the black program into one of Sharcroft’s power fantasies. One of his virtual victims killed him. It was well past his time anyway.
It was called the Eagle’s Nest and had been decorated in imperial splendour for an empire that had never made it because it had been polluted with fucked-up ideas. Here was another power fantasy: unreal attractive women fawning over some wannabe. It seemed unlikely that women who looked like that had ever existed, and if they had they wouldn’t have acted that way or been interested in a vile little prick like Messer.
He was surprised when the women disappeared and flowers started to grow out of everything. He had been left naked and alone. Sanctums are supposed to be difficult to find and nearly impossible to violate. He looked frightened because he didn’t understand what was happening. How could this little wanker have killed Jakob? I forced myself to control the anger.
‘Hello, Messer,’ I said as I walked out of the wall and into his sanctum as the Maiden of Flowers.
‘You…’ he said. My face was the same, but he’d done well to recognise me as the last time he’d seen me I’d been dressed in fascist chic and sporting a suedehead. I walked towards him over a carpet of blossoming flowers.
‘Well done,’ I said and smiled brightly.
I went to sit on the old-fashioned couch-thing next to him. He shrank away from me, practically curling into a foetal position. He seemed ashamed of his nakedness now he wasn’t in control. And violating his sanctum was a pretty raw demonstration of power. That and I had shut down the command for his icon to appear clothed.
‘You killed my boyfriend,’ I said sweetly.
‘I’m sorry,’ he stammered.
‘No, you’re frightened, and that’s different. You killed him on a whim because you’re a fucked-up little boy full of fear with a head full of bad ideas. I’ve seen how that ends. I should kill you, shouldn’t I? Not out of revenge but because of what you may become, the damage you could do, the pain you could cause.’
‘I’ll change-’ he started.
‘No, that’s another lie. That’s fear talking again.’
I waved my hands over his face, it was a bit theatrical but it made his crystalline insect eyes disappear. He had pretty green eyes underneath. Or at least his icon did. He looked more naked and afraid in the way that only men can.
‘You have to find a way to live free of fear. Maybe you’ll keep up with this nonsense when you do, but I doubt it. There are a lot of bad things out there, a lot of things that maybe you should be afraid of, but that’s okay because there are people out there who’ll help you, protect you, watch your back, help you help yourself. More to the point, they’ll accept you.
‘We’ll find a way to root out the bad things, cast a light on them and show them to everyone, and we’ll see that, like you, they’re not all that scary.’ He looked at me uncomprehending and still frightened. I think he thought he was talking to a mad person. Maybe he was.
‘More than anything now we need new and better ideas for all sorts of things, and the ideas you have are old, bad and not even very original. You need to think for yourself.’ He nodded, still not getting it. He flinched away from me when I stroked his face. ‘It’ll be okay,’ I promised him and I meant it.
I stood up and started towards the wall. I reached up to touch the flowers growing out of the wall but stopped and looked back at him.
‘Do you know why you’re still alive?’ He shook his head. ‘Because even though you must have been terrified, you fought with the vagabond army. At some level, deep down you must have wanted things to get better.’
He just stared at me.
‘Try not to just react. Try to think about what I said. I’ll leave you with the flowers. They’re very pretty.’ Even if I say so myself. I walked through the wall.
Fiona didn’t get off nearly so lightly. I tracked her down to an expensive nightclub in Edinburgh. The bouncers didn’t want to let four scruffy bastards like us in. Well three — Merle scrubbed up nicely. Rannu and Mudge persuaded them. They didn’t hurt them too badly. One of the perks of hanging around with hard bastards (and overprotective males).
I’d analysed the imagery the evil cow had posted on the net and worked out who she was and where to find her. She was sitting with a group of her mates and some hired muscle. Rannu and Mudge took care of the muscle. Merle just sat down and ordered a drink. He said it was nothing to do with him.
Some little wanker called Alasdair tried to get involved. I scared him so badly I think he shat himself. I beat the shit out of her. Well you can take the girl out of Dundee…