Chris leapt forward, but the lift was already moving, sliding smoothly down into the moon.
The Doctor sat on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest. "You have to get back," he told Chris. "You have to stop Roz. Stop her from getting involved."
Chris laughed, despite the grinding knot in his belly. "Yeah, I"ll get between her and what she wants to do, Doctor. She"ll just make a Roz-shaped hole right through me."
The Doctor smiled, very slightly.
It took them another twenty minutes to fall to the centre.
31st Corps HQ: Olympus Mons, Mars At 03.15 IST, Dozy Floyd 739 (serial number GPR29827739 How May I Be Of Service?) received a coded instruction to destroy the control centre of the Imperial Landsknechte"s 31st Corps. The instruction came as something of a surprise, because up until then Dozy Floyd 739"s most exacting task had been getting a decent shine on the table in the Staff Officers" Mess (amber access report all intruders).
Dozy Floyd 739 had been built by Jseda TECH, a subsidiary of ElleryCorp ("We have the technology"), and sold to the Imperial Landsknechte as part of a batch consignment of two hundred and fifty identical models. Before a.s.signment to duty, all of the robots had been stripped down to their cha.s.sis and thoroughly vetted by skilled technicians of the Landsknechte"s Corps Cybernetique. Hardware and software were checked for any indication that the units had been tampered with, kinked or 291 b.o.o.by-trapped. Once they were cleared, the robots were rea.s.sembled and transported to their places of work. It was all done with the Landsknechte"s usual paranoid attention to detail.
The instruction violated sixteen of Dozy Floyd"s operating imperatives, from the most important ("This unit must never damage a human or by inaction allow a human to be damaged") to the least ("This unit will avoid damage to client property").
Dozy Floyd 739 should have gone into electronic convulsions. At the very least, it should have informed the subsystem with oversight of domestic robots that it had received an invalid instruction.
Instead the robot continued polishing the floor of corridor 15 (cultured marble: cleaning fluid ec682, size seven pad vigorous). It completed the task as scheduled, thirteen minutes later, and proceeded to the main computer room.
A pair of booted feet stumbled over Dozy Floyd as it rolled into the room. It started to clean the floor, paying special attention to the skirting boards (acetic acid solution 50 per cent).
A map of the computer room"s physical layout had surfaced in Dozy Floyd"s mind. It rolled gradually in the direction of a box outlined in red in its limited mind. Someone else stepped over it, cursing.
Someone said, "What"s that bot doing in here? We"re trying to work, G.o.dd.a.m.nit."
Dozy Floyd rolled up to the red box in its mind. It b.u.mped against the real thing.
A moment later, it sent its cleaning fluid recycling system into reverse, and initiated a series of cascading overrides in its power grid.
Operating imperative one kicked in as smoke started to pour from its ventilation slits. "This unit is about to undergo ma.s.sive combustion," it warned, in a high, shrill voice. "Please move to a safe distance, minimum twenty metres, and preferably behind cover."
It repeated the message, over and over, until it was aware that every pair of feet had walked or run out of that radius.
Deep in Dozy Floyd"s synthetic mind, a small subroutine wished someone would step back within the boundary. Not 292 because it wanted to take one of its masters with it, but because if they had, it would not have to Mimas Chris looked at the Nexus. He had the awful feeling it was looking back at him.
It didn"t look like much. He had been expecting a major special effect, or something hidden behind ma.s.sive shielding, or something that the human brain could not comprehend, or whatever.
Instead, he saw a tiny, shimmering light, hanging in midair.
Like a tiny piece of a curtain made of some thin, silvery material.
Perhaps a third of a metre high, less than that in width. It looked as though you could fold it up and take it home in your pocket.
It moved very slightly, this smear of light, wobbling in the air.
Chris supposed that had something to do with the movement of Mimas, or something.
"Wow," he said.
The Nexus was the centrepiece of a... c.o.c.ktail party? Chris held on to the Doctor, looking around the narrow chamber.
This room hadn"t been excavated by machines. The walls were smooth, white, spotted with miniature versions of the TARDIS roundels. The ceiling rose to a conical point, high above the Nexus.
The chairs and the tables, with their fine lace tablecloths, were a recent addition. The Grandmaster stood around the room, in twenty of its twenty-eight bodies, nibbling hors d"oeuvres and sipping champagne.
They were a mix of people, different heights, different looks, different clothing styles. Each of them had the same blank look as Iaomnet.
"I don"t think any of these are the originals," murmured the Doctor.
"G.o.ddess," said Chris. "The bodies die, and the gestalt just keeps going. Like a program moving itself around in puters.p.a.ce."
"No wonder it"s so patient. It"s effectively immortal."
"That must be what they promised Walid," said Chris. "Not just the weapon. Immortality."
293.
We want what"s best for everyone, said the Grandmaster. The voice was overpowering, coming from all around them. said the Grandmaster. The voice was overpowering, coming from all around them. We"ve We"ve been greedy. It"s time to share our power. been greedy. It"s time to share our power.
"Yeah, right," said Chris loudly. "What you want to do is gobble everyone up. Make everybody join your exclusive club."
That club has been exclusive for centuries, said the Grandmaster. said the Grandmaster. Previously, we had no effective way to create new Previously, we had no effective way to create new telepaths. telepaths.
"You had the SLEEPY virus," said Chris.
You had the cure. Chris saw a subtle rhythm to the way they plucked their crackers with caviar from the table, the way they all seemed to drink at the same time, or not all of them, waves of identical movement rippling through the small crowd... the way they blinked at the same time... Chris saw a subtle rhythm to the way they plucked their crackers with caviar from the table, the way they all seemed to drink at the same time, or not all of them, waves of identical movement rippling through the small crowd... the way they blinked at the same time... Besides, we could change minds Besides, we could change minds with the virus, but we couldn"t change minds. About telepathy. with the virus, but we couldn"t change minds. About telepathy.
They turned as one to gesture at the Nexus. This way, the This way, the human race will have been telepathic from the beginning. We are human race will have been telepathic from the beginning. We are the lens that focuses the signal. You will help us modulate the the lens that focuses the signal. You will help us modulate the signal, control the change. The liberation will occur. The aeons signal, control the change. The liberation will occur. The aeons of silence will be ended. of silence will be ended.
Chris looked at the Nexus. Something was moving in there. It made his brain itch to look at it.
We need your help, Doctor.
The Doctor took a breath and said, "Take two aspirin and call me in the morning."
"If they threaten me or anything," said Chris, "don"t help them."
He would not, said the Grandmaster. said the Grandmaster. We know this is too We know this is too important a change for Time"s Champion to allow. Even to save important a change for Time"s Champion to allow. Even to save the life of his steward. the life of his steward.
The light from the Nexus was making it hard to think. He was sure he could see something inside it, something that struggled struggled. "I don"t understand," said Chris.
Ripples of laughter moved through the Grandmaster. Giggles coming from interconnected throats in some hidden geometric pattern.
It"s always been about you, Doctor.
"Why? Why has it been about me?"
294.
When the N-form attacked Earth, a millennium ago, it changed the Brotherhood for ever. We might all have been destroyed by the Brotherhood for ever. We might all have been destroyed by that horror, from full psis to those with single recessive genes. that horror, from full psis to those with single recessive genes.
And we knew that we would face you, as we had faced you, again and again and again. and again and again.
"I just stumbled across you," said the Doctor. "It wasn"t intentional."
We could not merely be a meeting place for the Gifted. We must gain power, protect ourselves. And later, the mission came. must gain power, protect ourselves. And later, the mission came.
The liberation.
"GRUMPY was part of that process, wasn"t he?" said the Doctor. "You were trying to learn how to make people telepathic.
Make them like you. Make them just like you."
A good example of your interference in our plans.
"Look at it from my point of view," said the Doctor. "You"re paranoid you think I"ve been chasing you. Trying to expose you. But our paths have crossed at random. I"ve never sought you out." His shoulders fell. "We didn"t have to be enemies."
And now?
"Now I"ll do whatever I can to stop this insane plan of yours."
Join us, they told him. they told him.
Chris felt the Doctor tense. "If you do have a plan, Doctor," he whispered, "now would be a good time."
The Grandmaster fixed their eyes on the Time Lord.
Who are you, Doctor? they asked. they asked.
The Doctor cried out. Chris caught him as he lost his balance, arms thrown up in front of his face.
You"ve always been the one to change whatever needed changing. Join us. changing. Join us.
"I can"t block them!" shouted the Doctor.
You"ve always been lonely. So lonely. Join us.
"They"re getting in! Stop, I can"t stop it!"
Chris held him. Maybe he could do something once they"d sucked him into the gestalt. Maybe he"d think of something at the last minute.
He looked at the Nexus. It was shining brighter and brighter, as though sensing what was going on around it.
295.
"This can"t be it," shrieked the Doctor. "This can"t be how the story ended!"
Saturn orbit, 28 August 2982 Vincenzi came out of deep sleep an hour before their objective.
He"d set the timer for eight hours and a gentle wake-up. Instead, someone had snapped off the current. It was like being woken up with a faceful of nettles.
Vincenzi kept his eyes closed for a moment, making up his mind how to kill the soldier who"d just interrupted his rest.
When he opened them, there was a colonel looking down at him with an evil smile.
Vincenzi swallowed a rude word and leapt out of the sleeper in his singlet and shorts. "Ma"am!" He saluted.
"At ease, Lieutenant," she said, amused. She looked up and down the row of sleeping soldiers, resting as fast as they could after the engagements on Mars. "Get your togs on. I want a briefing."
"Yes, ma"am," said Vincenzi, reaching for his uniform. "Erm, weren"t you one of the prisoners we picked up in the Agamemnon system?"
"Secret mission, Lieutenant."
"Of course, ma"am. With all due respect, ma"am," he said, tugging on his uniform, "where the h.e.l.l did you come from?"
"I rendezvoused with the Victoria Victoria twenty minutes ago," she said. The patch on her chest said FORRESTER. Vincenzi had an awful feeling that meant as in twenty minutes ago," she said. The patch on her chest said FORRESTER. Vincenzi had an awful feeling that meant as in the the Forrester, as in the Lady herself, as in the Boss. Forrester, as in the Lady herself, as in the Boss.
"I"m your new commanding officer," she said.
"Yes, ma"am," said Vincenzi.
Up on the bridge, Captain Sokolovsky was frozen in his chair, pink eyes fixed on the monitors. "As you were," Colonel Forrester told the bridge as she led Vincenzi in.
The colonel displaced a TechOp from their console and sat down, bringing up a schematic of their objective. The Emperor"s personal palace on Callisto.
296.
"You"re going to have to talk me through this, Lieutenant," she said. "I"ll be coming with you."
Vincenzi found a spare chair and sat down next to her. He could see the resemblance to their glorious leader, although this woman looked older not so much older, just more worn, he thought. A good kind of worn, like she"d done a h.e.l.l of a lot of work. "Can I ask what military experience the colonel has had?"
he asked, without a trace of irony.
"I was an Adjudicator for twenty-three years," she said. "Mostly hand-to-hand stuff, some small-scale engagements. I"ve been in a few battles since then."
"Merc?"
"Freelance. Under all sorts of circ.u.mstances. I can handle small arms as well as any grunt."
"That might not be so bad," said Vincenzi. "That"s pretty much what"s required. No heroic tendencies?"
"None whatsoever," said the colonel, with another smile. "OK, what"re we going to do about Walid?"
"His last known location was inside the palace on Callisto,"
said Vincenzi. "There was an official message to the Empire at oh eight hundred IST today, although it might have been recorded."
His fingers moved over the touchscreen, bringing up graphics of the surface. "The entire crater of Valhalla is under a huge dome, six hundred klicks wide. Most of the defences will be just outside the dome, on the crater rim."