Antonina spent that moment savoring another’s joy. Irene was her best friend. She had been able to discern a subtle message contained within the depiction of political and military developments. Kungas had figured a bit too prominently in those sober sentences. Quite a bit too prominently, measured in sheer number of words. And why in the world would Irene, glowingly, take the trouble to describe an illiterate’s progress at his books?
Uncertain, not knowing the man herself, Antonina had raised her suspicions with Belisarius. Her husband, once he realized what she was hinting at, had immediately burst into laughter.
“Of course!” he’d exclaimed. “It’s a match made in heaven.” Then, seeing her doubting face: “Trust me, love. If there’s a man in the world who wouldn’t be intimidated by Irene, it’s Kungas. As for her—?” Shrugging, laughing. “You know how much she loves a challenge!”
* * *
The moment passed, soon enough. Within an hour, they would be in battle again.
“So what would Link do, Maurice? Would it send subordinates to organize the supply effort, while it led the march back to India?” Belisarius shook his head. “I didn’t think that likely. No, I was almost sure Link would want to get to India itself, as fast as possible. Why else hold back the surviving galleys, at the last minute, in the battle of the delta? One of them, certainly; perhaps two. That would have been enough to send subordinates with a message.”
He pointed at the cargo ship nestled among the Malwa galleys. They were less than two miles away. He was smiling, not like a man, but like a wolf smiles, seeing a fat and crippled caribou.
“That, my friends, is not a subordinate’s ship. That is the best Link could do, replacing Great Lady Holi’s luxury barge in Kausambi.”
The smile vanished completely. Nothing was left, beyond pure ferocity.
“I own that monster, now. Finally.”
* * *
Belisarius’ quiet, seething rage brought hidden, half-conscious thoughts to the surface. For the first time, Aide realized Belisarius’ full intentions. Sooner, perhaps, than Belisarius did himself.
No! he cried. You must not! It will kill you!
Belisarius started. There had been sheer panic in that crystalline voice.
What is wrong, Aide? Forcefully: We’re not going to have this argument again. I’ve led charges in battle, often enough.
That was different! You were fighting men, not a cyborg. Men who wanted to live, as much as you. Life means nothing to Link—not even its own!
Long minutes followed, while Belisarius waged a fierce argument with Aide. His companions, from experience, understood the meaning of his silence and his unfocused eyes. But, as the minutes passed, they grew concerned—none more so than Antonina. Not since they first encountered Aide, and he transported Belisarius into a vision of future horror, had she seen her husband spend so much time in that peculiar trance.
When he finally emerged, his face was bleak. Bleak, but bitterly determined.
Belisarius pointed to the Malwa cargo ship in which, if he was correct, Link was waiting. The ship was not more than a mile distant, now. Already, kshatriyas were erecting rocket troughs on the deck.
“There is something you should know. Aide just explained it to me. There is a reason the new gods choose women as the vessels for Link. Great Lady Holi, today. If she dies, Link will be transferred into the person—the body, I should say—of her niece, Sati. She is probably still in Kausambi. If Sati dies, there will be another girl, in that same line. Somewhere in Kausambi also, in all likelihood.”
He paused, groping for a way to translate Aide’s concepts. The effort was hopeless. Words like “genetics” and “mitochondrial DNA” would mean nothing to his companions. He barely understood them himself.
He waved his hand. “Never mind the specifics. Link is part machine, part human. The machine part, the core of it, is somewhere in India. Probably in Kausambi also. Its consciousness is passed, upon her death, from one woman to her successor. The new Link, once it’s—’activated,’ let’s call it—has all the memories of the old one, up till the time she last—” Again, he groped for words. “Communicated with the machine.”