He glares at us, mutters something we don"t understand.
We realise he"s alone. "Where"s Tovel? Weren"t you with him?"
"He"s not good. I had to leave him."
We look at him suspiciously. "Did you now."
"Yes, I did. He can"t move, Creben, all right? He"s half-turned into one of them."
He"s indignant. We feel it"s genuine.
"Anyway," he carries on. He even closes his eyes like he might start crying. We believe he actually feels guilty. "The Doctor said said I should leave him. S"pose it makes sense. You know, try and help the rest of us before going back to help him." I should leave him. S"pose it makes sense. You know, try and help the rest of us before going back to help him."
"And what can you do?" we ask politely.
It"s Haunt"s voice that answers. Screams at us.
"Do all you can. Work together. Keep the neural network open. That"s an order."
We catch a whiff of something old and decaying. Glimpse the cold empty face of an angel. As we do so, Haunt"s voice spirals off into nothing.
"She"s out of the web," we say quietly.
"Dead?" We don"t answer him. "But the Doctor was with her!"
"I"m still here, my boy," comes the Doctor"s answer. He sounds troubled. "Marshal Haunt ran on ahead, we saw someone..."
"Denni?" Ben asks.
"It seems highly likely, yes."
Ben laughs, a brief and bitter sound. "Thought this network thing was meant to help us watch out for each other?"
"And through each other."
Now we hear Tovel. Whispering inside our head. Perhaps the communicator has snapped off his bulging wrist? No. It"s there on the boy"s arm. He seems a little self-conscious about it for some reason.
You all right, Tovel?" asks Ben. He"s half-talking into his wrist, the idiot, forgetting whose gear it is. The pressure"s getting to him.
"Comes and goes," breathes Tovel. Now listen. Forget Haunt, you have to. Concentrate on the circuit display. If the Doctor"s right, it"ll take two of you to make the repairs on that thing."
"Tell us what to do," we say. We want to get this over with.
So we can breathe again, until we figure out what to do next.
We"re taking Tovel"s orders again. The irony is, it"s almost easier to swallow now he"s no longer compet.i.tion. Now he"s becoming a Schirr.
The situation"s quite ludicrous. Absurd. And here we are, stuck in it up to our necks.
If you have not yet witnessed Marshal Haunt"s severance from the network, select section 11 on page 215. from the network, select section 11 on page 215.
Then return here and select another viewpoint
To witness these events from Ben"s viewpoint, select section 14 on page 221 select section 14 on page 221 To switch to Polly"s viewpoint, select section 7 on page 206 To switch to Shade"s viewpoint, select section 8 on page 207
19.
Polly
We set off back down the pa.s.sage. It wasn"t so far from here we took the blue-lit tunnel. The tunnel that led to the place where Joiks Our thoughts crash up against a voice.
It"s high like a woman"s but there"s a harshness, an anger, that puts us in mind of a man.
Dimly we feel Shade grab hold of us, his arm round our waist, dragging us along.
There"s nothing special about the contact now.
We can"t feel a thing, except that voice there deep inside us.
The crystals in our hand rattle together as we start to shake.
To witness these events from Shade"s viewpoint, select section 26 on page 241 select section 26 on page 241
To switch to Ben"s viewpoint, select section 10 on page 214 To switch to Creben"s viewpoint, select section 15 on page 223 To switch to Tovel"s viewpoint, select section 23 on page 235
Or you may withdraw from the neural net - but only after experiencing Frog"s perspective. Select section 27 on page 241 experiencing Frog"s perspective. Select section 27 on page 241
20.
Creben We trek along these tedious tunnels, endure the jumping touch of the fleas as they swarm in great clouds around the weed above, the great dull lamp we see by. We can feel others trying to get into our head. They can"t reason things out so they want our answers. They want to use our our mind to light mind to light their way. We prefer not to listen. way. We prefer not to listen.
People always seek to use us. It"s been the same all our life.
Our parents gained licence to have a further child once they"d made us demonstrate our prodigal intellect. Our university"s reputation was so enhanced by our achievements that its Chancellor received special commendation from the Paris authorities and a bursary. We were not rewarded.
Cheats do not prosper. Our mother miscarried twice before our brother was born. He grew up a criminal and a stupid one. He got caught burning down the Chancellor"s library.
He tried to protest it was our idea.
Always used. We"re thinking this through now because we"re trying to work out if Haunt"s used us. We don"t think she ever has. Brains arc a disadvantage in her scheme of things, we suppose. Adaptability, that is what the modern soldier needs. Haunt couldn"t adapt so they threw her out under the guise of honouring her, and left her to train others according to programmes and guidelines and principles that weren"t her own. An insult. She must"ve seen it for that. And still she stayed. Because she believed in the Army, even after all it did to her.
We were honestly just another person to Haunt back at the Academy. She couldn"t fathom us, so she stuck to her job.
Trained us. Gave to us, or tried to.
Now we"re all she"s got.
When the time comes, we hope it"s us who kills Denni.
We stop. We hear Haunt"s voice in our head. Something"s happened.
Switch to Haunt"s viewpoint. Select section 5 on page 202
21.
Shade
So Haunt"s put us with Polly. That"s good. We need to talk with her.
We can"t believe we told her all that stuff. That was when we thought we were going to die. It"s like we"ve given away everything we own because we thought it was the end of the world, and now there"s been a stay of execution.
Except that she can still end the world for us now, any time she wants.
She doesn"t look so happy to be with us.
We hope it"s the location and not the company; the usual flea-ridden shadows abound here, masking the jagged slates piled up to the soft-glowing ceiling. The dead weight of the grenade launcher on our back is actually a comfort.
As we lead the way, we narrow our eyes. Try out this web, try to dip a toe in her head. She"s on edge. Stuff"s going round and round, but one thing we read loud and clear.
"You haven"t told anyone, have you," we say "About any of it.
Not even your friends."
She shrugs her shoulders. "Maybe there"s more important things to talk about right now than your guilty conscience."
We suppose she"s right. She can"t know how deep this goes, how we can be thinking of this at the same time as thinking of anything else. Anything else at all.
"Besides," she adds. "I keep secrets."
"So do I," we whisper. "Keep them for so long, I can"t ever let go of them."
She stops walking. We check she"s OK. "You should see your face," she says. "It"s like nothing ever happened."
"It happened." Our eyes wander down her body to her hips.
There"s Lindey"s palmscreen, tucked away on her left. We tap it through her suit. "It"s all there."
She turns away, reaches a hand into her suit. Pulls out the palmscreen and hands it to us.
The display is still glowing, waiting for our next command.
We realise the files have been killed.
"Gone?" we whisper. We stare at the display. We could"ve wiped Lindey"s painstakingly collected files the moment we found them, but we didn"t. A part of us wanted wanted to let the truth come out. That way it"d all be over. No more fighting against it, no more guilt at hiding our guilt. to let the truth come out. That way it"d all be over. No more fighting against it, no more guilt at hiding our guilt.