This fic is set 100 years after the conclusion of the events portrayed
in Bubblegum Crisis, which have been altered slightly. It contains
mature themes, language and sentence structure; don't fear the
semicolon.
Mote in the Eye of Eternity Part Nine:
'Kinship'
"The life he knew was a clean orderly sane responsible affair. Now a
falling beam had shown him that life was fundamentally none of those
things. He, the good citizen-husband-father, could be wiped out between
office and restaurant by the accident of a falling beam. He knew then
that men died at haphazard like that, and lived only while blind chance
spared them."
Dashell Hammet, The Maltese Falcon
The Present:
Towering over the rest of the data stream, Genom's central database
stood like a monument to some ancient conquest. Freed from the bounds of
reality, the architects responsible for its appearance had spared no
expense. Outside the data stream it would've been three hundred miles
high, angles running together in a completely non-Euclidean fashion. The
matte black skin of the new Genom tower was darker than night, and
shapes that moved too fast to follow dotted the surface.
Of course Destiny saw it differently. Where the architects and artists
Genom hired to design the appearance of the tower were concerned with
the representation in human minds, Destiny saw the data itself. To it,
Genom tower simply looked like home. And presently the two surviving
children of Quincy were having a traditional family moment: dinner.
They weren't eating anything in a conventional sense, rather digesting
new bits of data that they had assembled. Images and telemetry from the
J-series boomers in South America floated through Destiny's
consciousness, the richness of the data almost soothing.
"You were correct, sister," Destiny said, hiding the distaste that
phrase caused.
"Of course. We merely had to wait to flush out the K-DAI along with the
Sabers," Chaos said, "though it was a shame your J-series proved
inadequate."
Irritation filled Destiny again, made more severe by the electronic
tinkling that marked its sister's laugh. Ten Jubei boomers defeated by
the three of the Sabers, Destiny reflected. It was an impressive enough
feat for humans. "And it's an even greater shame that you lost K-DAI in
the first place. Smith's agents managed to get by your vaunted Gate, and
you've had no luck in finding that monstrosity in the data stream."
Destiny's sister ceased laughing, her good humor evaporating. After
fifty years the two had grown past their dislike. After all, father
wanted them together and who were they to question His wishes. "Message
received. I'll wait until I've moved out of the glass house before the
next toss. Can we move on without K-DAI?"
"Certainly, though the pace will be slowed. And what of Smith? Are we
certain he won't reconsider the offer?"
"Why don't you ask fate?" Chaos asked, faintly amused. "That is your
area of expertise."
"Why don't you answer the question, sister?"
"I don't know. Smith surprised me when he left ten years ago, and he
hasn't stopped yet. If he did, he wouldn't be alive today." Destiny
digested the information. When one could surprise Chaos one was worthy
of caution. And now he was with the Sabers.
"This could complicate matters," Destiny told its sister. "If Isis gets
a hold of the data onboard K-DAI she could conceivably find Eternity."
"I'm beginning to think Father made a mistake bringing him back," Chaos
said in a distracted tone, her vision following one of the thousand
motes of data that danced through Genom's HQ.
Destiny responded with the digital equivalent of a hiss, its data
structures darkening in anger. He was about to communicate when its
sister cut him off: "Sorry. He wasn't infallible you know," it added as
it began to fade out, apparently ending the meeting of Genom's two
leaders.
Destiny relaxed as solitude returned. As much as it loved its sister
the other AI could infuriate it like no other. First extracting Ingrid
Casper, then The Boundless, then this. Isis was becoming more of a
random element than even Chaos had predicted. A more concerted effort
would be needed to stop them. It was already planning the next step.
*******
Smith slid across the hallway of the Tonobu's crew compartment, silent
in the night-cycle's darkness. Three days had passed since the OTV had
rendezvoused with the Sabers' mobile headquarters, and cabin fever was
driving Smith crazy. With practiced stealth he made it to the lift,
cautiously probing the electric lock with his enhanced senses.
The cracker program began, an estimated countdown displayed on the
inside of the blackened irises. Smith glanced around the hall, glad of
the sharply curving walls; they cut down his visibility if any of the
others woke up. The only real danger would be Ingrid; his enhancements
would allow him to easily destroy the other Sabers he'd met. It struck
him as ironic that he was stuck on a ship with no one but four
attractive young women, it most certainly hadn't been what he was
planning when he'd woken up the morning of the meeting with Ingrid.
There was one other onboard, who he had yet to meet. Isis had ignored
him for the last three days, and had been absent from the lives of the
Sabers as well. Three days confined to the habitation deck, the seventy
five percent gravity giving him a headache.
The lock cracking program beeped its completion and the door slid
silently open. He stepped into the elevator and selected a deck at
random, curiosity driving him forward.
"Interested in a tour, Mr. Smith," a soft, feminine voice asked him.
"Got lost on my way to the bathroom," Smith responded instinctively,
hair on his neck rising as he turned to face the source of the question.
She stood in front of him, looking surprisingly like he expected. Young,
though with a timeless quality about her, Isis appeared more real than
real. His sensors refused to analyze her structure and for once the
voice in the back of his head was speechless.
"Of course. I realize you must consider me a bad host," the mysterious
woman continued, brushing her hair behind her absently. Strange, Smith
thought, how accurate all the mannerisms are. "I'd like to make up for
that by showing you around."
The elevator came to a halt, Smith feeling the disconcerting fluttering
in his stomach that marked zero-g. The doors whooshed open, revealing a
long corridor with rows of transparent panels revealing the largest
interior volume that Smith had seen on the ship. The room was filled
with all manner devices, from conventional engineering equipment to
items better suited in an old science fiction movie.
His amazed stare was broken by the alarmed squawks of his sensor
systems. None of the returns from his systems were making sense. The
interior volume of the room was far too great to be held by the Tonobu.
The one element of the room he could successfully interpret was the
almost obsessive reinforcement. Buttresses, crossbeams and load bearing
structures abounded, all sturdy if Smith could trust his vision. The
rest of the results just didn't make sense
"What is this place?" Smith asked, drifting into the corridor and
looking at the massive cylinder to his left. The whispering in his head
stepped up a level.
"Engineering," Isis responded. "The heart of the Tonobu."
"My implants are more impressed than I am," Smith returned, masking his
awe with humor. Awe that was rapidly being tempered with more than a
little fear. Does she already know? He worried silently.
"Thanks. And I've got another hello to make," Isis continued. "To
you're hitchhiker," Isis made a vague gesture towards her head. "The DAI
processor you've got implanted in your head behind all that shielding."
"I don't exactly know what you're talking about," Smith returned, tone
and expression completely neutral. "I've gotten a lot of implants over
the years, and half of them were company mandated." Smith gazed out to
his right, not surprised to find a matching cylinder stretching what his
sensors told him was a three kilometer length.
"I find it a little ironic that two of my passengers are ex-Genom
employees," Isis said, walking easily in the zero-g. "Considering the
situation," she added reasonably.
"Most of the population of this solar system, synthetic or otherwise,
works for Genom. I think its odd the percentage is so low." Smith was
growing weary, unsure of the direction the conversation was heading.
Isis had unsettled him with the strange room and the knowledge of the
DAI implant. He filed away the information about the others, glad Isis
managed to reveal some kind of information to him.
"How did you meet your accomplice, anyway?" Isis asked. "He- it was
under reasonably secure guard the last anyone knew."
"There isn't much that's secure from me," Smith said, pride poking
through. "I'm very good at my job, Ms. Isis and sometimes you've just
got to prove how good you are."
"So you broke him out? Just to prove a point?"
"I've said nothing of the sort. I'm just making a statement about my
work ethic, that's all."
Isis showed a small smile, then looked up. "We're back already? Well I
might as well show you the rest of the ship then."
With a shock, Smith realized they had returned to the elevator. He
hadn't realized his direction had changed, and was vaguely shamed at his
loss of orientation. "Lead on, Miss."
******
The rest of the tour was not quite as�innovating. The training facility
held Smith's attention for a while, its various projections amusing and
educational. Isis' holograms were a great deal beyond cutting edge in
the resolution arena, and Smith's onboard systems copied a great deal of
what would be proprietary data if Isis ran a corporation. After leaving
the powered down training room Isis lead him back to the elevator,
sending it towards the nose of the ship.
The doors opened again, revealing what Smith took to be the bridge of
the Tonobu. The room was powered down as well, the night-cycle and the
Tonobu's automatic systems combining to leave the bridge empty. Six
stations, each of their controls blanked out to their reflective black
plastic neutral states, dotted the bridge. The most impressive of them
stood in the center, ringed by the other stations which tended to be
lower than the central one.
"Right out of Star Trek," Smith muttered, expecting the reference to
miss his audience. What would a twenty-second century AI know about an
ancient flat show? Smith thought. Most humans missed the reference.
"I'm glad you approve. I couldn't resist for my first space ship," the
apparition added, with exactly the right amount of sugar in her voice.
The accuracy and authenticity of Isis's physical demeanor once again
stunned Smith. I wonder what she's like on the net?
"Why bother with a bridge at all?" Smith asked innocently. "Can't you
just run the whole thing from up here?" Smith tapped his temple with a
finger.
"I could, but then where'd the fun be in a ship with no bridge?"
"Genom's got a bunch," Smith said absently, running a finger across a
nearby control panel. "They use em for most of the ferrying around
orbits."
"I don't look to Genom for cues," Isis said evenly. The tone was
perfectly modulated and timed to convey indifference, but to Smith it
sounded wrong somehow. Of course, he reflected, I've never tried to
squeeze any secrets out of an AI before. Well, not one this pretty, he
amended.
"Of course not," Smith said smoothly, turning from the control panel
and moving suggestively towards the elevator. Isis, an excellent host,
picked up on the movement. "Ready for my favorite part of the tour?"
"Mess hall?" Smith asked glibly.
"If I could hit you�" Isis said, waving an arm through Smith's head
menacingly.
******
"This is your favorite spot?" Smith asked, staring through the clear
bulb and out at the stars. "Makes me feel small," he added, "and don't
you get a better view of the sky through the ship's sensors?"
"Quality of data aside, this place sets me at ease. There's something
comforting in being so tiny."
Smith nodded, only half listening to the projection. He glanced down at
the quiet tail of the Tonobu, sensors reporting a total length of three
hundred and ten meters. The things he'd seen in engineering were
beginning to weigh on his mind; idle conversation wasn't very appealing
at the moment.
"Of course," Isis added after the silence began to weigh on the air,
"the stars do give one the impression of Eternity."
Smith found the program's ability to vocalize the capital letter a
little amusing, though the immensity of the issue dampened the humor.
"They do indeed," he said neutrally. How does she know? Smith wondered.
"There's a mission planned shortly, and it'll require your aid. Do our
interests coincide close enough to allow us to work together?"
"Close enough," the man confirmed, staring out into space. The colored
ball of Jupiter hung in the distance, asteroids no more than tiny motes
against the immense planet. "What are we doing?"
"Genom Space HQ," Isis said. She had turned her face away and was
staring into her own corner of the solar system, Mars barely visible
behind the Tonobu's bow. "We're going to try and get Eternity's number."
"You're crazy," he stated calmly. In his head another voice agreed.
"There's more security there than anyplace but the Chairman's Spire! I
watched you're girls get torn up by a patrol of ten boomers. They won't
last against a thousand."
"We've got something that's bound to help out." Isis held up her hand
and an image sprang to life in the space next to her. A long chain of
spindly rods laid themselves out in an arcane arrangement, linking
together in a strangely eerie set of geometrical proportions. The voice
in Smith's head nearly yelped in confusion and surprise.
"I imagine you're friend recognizes this. Its been improved since the
early days, mostly in the realm of target discrimination."
Smith finally recognized the malevolent pattern. The occult arrangement
had been popularized in a series of articles Smith remembered from the
trade papers in Genom's weapons division, more than ten years ago.
"You really are crazy," he said in awe. "You'd take this risk?"
Isis nodded her head silently, closing her hand to make the display
fade from view. "I'll do anything I have to if it means finding out
where the stars end." Then she faded quickly, leaving her two guests
alone in the bubble.
Author's Notes:
As I continue to write this I realize exactly how big of an impact
watching Utena had on me. Though this series was planned before I got
too deep into my favorite shoujo anime, I find myself thinking of its
discussions of Eternity a great deal. This part marks the beginning of
the end of this series, and I imagine myself wrapping it up in around
three more parts. Thanks for all bearing with me this far, and Fnord!
Jerico Mele
Jmele@brandeis.edu
www.brandeis.edu/~jmele