They were nothing now but two snarling, monstrous animals, motivated only by their mutual hatred, and determination to survive.
They leaped on each other, all their power now reduced to sheer physical force, and they clawed and bit and chewed and rolled back and forth, ever closer to the great saucer-shaped depression. One opened gaping, bleeding wounds in the other’s stomach, and entrails dangled out, but that only enraged the other, who leaned forward and bit into his opponent’s neck, removing a large chunk of flesh.
The Fluxlord commanders knew that they were watching the end of a horrible battle between two of the greatest and most determined powers ever in World, and they debated stepping in. “But on whose side?” they asked each other, and shook their heads.
Now the one with the neck wound fell, and the other was upon him, snarling and tearing and slashing far beyond the moment when the one on the ground had stopped resisting. Finally, the victorious creature stood up and screamed, “I’ve won!” in a deep, guttural voice.
Then he collapsed on the body of the other.
“Two goddesses with the power to bring back the dead can’t help a man win a fair fight,” Matson grumbled.
“The Seven knew too much. Far more than anyone guessed back when they closed them down,” Spirit told him. “Look, we have power over Flux and Anchor but they had the code that shut off the defense systems—and shut down maintenance as well. When that happened, they had just the right boards and knew just exactly the right things to do to jump the circuit, replace the board, then reverse the polarity. As for Tilghman, Cassie gave him his storm cover, then the thick fog, then caused that fissure to appear that delayed all the troops closing in on him. There’s just too many. Dad! We can’t raise him an army unless it’s in Flux, and that evil old man made sure there was no Flux there I”
“Adam is not evil!” Suzl practically shouted at her. “He’s a product of the worst kind of culture this world can produce, and he came out of it with a determination to found a perfect society here no matter how long it took and no matter what it cost. His dream might not be your dream, but it isn’t Coydt’s or Champion’s, either, which is pretty much what New Eden is now.”
“But he didn’t care if he had to get in bed with the devil himself.” Spirit snapped back. “The end justifies any means—war, torture, the reduction of women to inferiors . . . .”
“Yeah, that’s true, but he didn’t see it that way. He thought conditions for the masses of World were so wretched as it was that any cost was worth changing it if their children or grandchildren could live his dream. The only alternative he had was to do nothing, so even the grandchildren stayed slaves. When even the so-called good guys of this world worked like hell to make sure nothing changed it, he had no choice but to choose the devil. Check the records here. In twenty-six hundred years humans went from primitive empires built with stone and bronze-tipped spears and arrows to being able to do this. Look at what we are after the same period!” She stopped a moment, choked with emotion. “No. Adam is a great man,” she added quietly. “All the dreamers were great men. But he’s lost.”
Matson looked around. “Can one of you all-powerful beings whip me up a pair of pants and a shotgun?”
“What’s the matter. Daddy?” Sondra asked, sounding a little sour. “Does you good to learn how the other half lives.”
“Touche! But I’m serious. They’re up against the Gate, and the only cover they have is the fog. Kids, tell your Mom and Dad to head for the tunnel with everyone else they can. Tell ’em somebody will be waiting for them.”
They all stared at him. Finally. Jeff said. “I’m coming with you.”
“Me, too!” added Sondra. but he stopped her with a look. “Like that? With your Flux power shot to hell? No. It’ll be crowded as it is.”
She started to argue, but knew it would be futile.
“You watch us on one of those screens up there.” he told her. “If you see we’re down, you come get us—hear?”
She smiled and nodded.
“Hey, Goddess of Anchor, get me a decent pair of pants, a good gun and some ammo, and a good cigar! And the same for my friend here, minus the pants.”
There was the sound of cannon fire all around, and automatic weapons seemed almost constant. Cassie moved now as if in a dream, a slight wound on her thigh. She didn’t feel it. or anything, really, but she knew it was the end. Only the thickness of the fog had prevented the enemy from knowing that there were less than a hundred of them remaining, huddled around dead bodies of men and horses and firing in all directions at a foe none could see. They couldn’t even tell that they had been stopped less than three hundred meters from the goal, but it didn’t matter. They had been stopped, and the area in between was thick with traps and defenders.
Suddenly there were bugle calls all around, and Tilghrnan accepted them. “Cease firing! Cease firing!” he ordered. Slowly, through the fog, an ominous silence fell.
“Judge Tilghman! Are you still alive?” came a shout from the curtain that reminded Cassie of the void.
“Yes!” he called back. “I’m here! Who’s that?”
“My name is Gifford Haldayne.” came the voice. “You don’t know me but I’m now in overall command here. Champion is dead.”
Cassie’s head snapped up at the mention of that name. She had been unable to manage a submachine gun but she fingered the automatic pistol in her hand. If she could die accomplishing one straight shot she would be happy. . . .
“I assume this is where I request terms!” Tilghman shouted. He guessed that Haldayne, whom he didn’t know, knew that they were beaten beyond a doubt but could not determine the size of the force as yet. Tilghman was literally right on the edge of the Gate; they had almost fallen in when they reached it. His remaining troops flanked him and Cassie in a semicircular formation.
“We can take you out, with total loss of life, as you know, but you can still do some harm to us. If you surrender now, and all of your men come forward unarmed and hands in the air, I swear to you nothing will happen to them. They fought with uncommon honor and bravery and will be treated as such.”
“Not very generous when you open the Hellgate. Afraid you don’t have enough soldiers for that? But, very well. They have earned the right to see the end of it. What of me and my wife?”
“Throw down your weapons, and you and your wife walk along the bowl until you reach a ladder. Proceed down the ladder to the central tunnel and enter it. You will be met there, and taken to the old capital to be interned with the rest of your family for the duration. I think that’s more than generous.”
“Don’t trust him!” Cassie hissed. “He’s one of the Seven. One of the worst! He makes Champion seem like a saint in comparison!”
Tilghman sighed. “What choice do we have, Cassie? He’s right—we’ve lost. And because we’ve lost, I’d at least like to know the answer. If we’re going to die anyway, I’d like to know what’s beyond that Gate.”
She seemed to wilt a bit, and gave a sad smile. She tossed her pistol into the bowl and heard it clatter and slide. “I’ll do whatever you say, Adam.”
“All right! We accept! My troopers are hereby ordered to lay down their arms and advance forward, hands raised.”
There were scattered shouts of protest, but they did as ordered. Then he got up, helped Cassie to her feet, and together they walked cautiously along the edge to the ladder, which was surprisingly close. Still fearing she might do something rash, he made her go first, then followed her.
The fog was thin down towards the tunnel, and they saw it and the huge, thick cable going into it, and for the first time realized just how close they had come. Tilghman was bare-chested and had kicked off his boots before climbing down. The driving rain had soaked them all, and he didn’t want the muddy boots to slip on the smooth floor. Cassie had long ago discarded all clothing.
Again she preceded him down the tunnel ladder, and he found her standing there, looking at the cable.
“Forget it,” he told her. “You and I together couldn’t move it down here, and you couldn’t ground anything in the Gate itself. We’ll need whoever’s left to fight whatever comes.”
A lone man in familiar black uniform approached from the direction of the Gate. He went past, pistol drawn, then turned. “Sir, if you and your wife will continue.”
They continued down until they came to the regulator. There they found another black-clad and well-armed trooper, and, getting up from the machine, Onregon Sligh.
“One of your friends had a great deal of fun with us in there, Adam,” the scientist said. “I lost two good technicians.” He walked past them and behind the rear trooper. “You may proceed,” he told them.
“My God, Adam! They’re going to shoot us!” Cassie shouted, and leaped on the gunman in front. He went down with her, and his pistol fired, sending a deadly ricochet pinging through the tunnel.
Tilghman had turned at almost the same moment and grabbed the gun arm of the man behind. It was an effective move, and they both tumbled to the floor, wrestling for the gun. Sligh had disappeared in the tunnel, and probably had taken the first shot as the first execution. Tilghman and the man fought furiously for the pistol, and finally the old man managed to turn it down, down.
The pistol fired, the trooper jerked once, and then was still. Winded, Tilghman picked himself and the pistol up and then froze.
The other trooper, a good hundred and eighty centimeters tall and a hundred kilograms of mostly muscle, could be knocked down by the thin, very light woman, but he could hardly be overpowered. He held her with one arm, and he had a pistol pointed at her head.
He grinned, the pistol came away from her head, and he fired twice at Tilghman. The Chief Judge grunted, went back two steps from the recoil, but did not fall.
“No!” Cassie screamed, and struggled to bite the gunman.
But Tilghman wasn’t finished. Incredibly, blood streaming from two gaping wounds in his chest, he came on. Startled, the trooper fired twice more, and this time the old man sank to his knees.
The soldier grinned. “O.K., girlie, don’t get upset. You can join him in a minute.”
Suddenly he felt something coil around his neck, and he dropped both Cassie and the pistol and screamed. He found himself being pulled around and looking into the most horrifying face he’d ever seen. Matson shoved him against the wall and held the big man with one hand while he slowly twisted the rope he’d placed around the killer’s neck. The man’s arms came up, but there was no fighting that cold fury. His eyes bulged, and his tongue hung out, and then there was a sharp but not very loud crack. The trooper slid slowly to the floor with open eyes that would never see again.
Jeff rushed to Cassie, who had gone to Tilghman and was now cradling his head in her lap and sobbing uncontrollably. She was smeared with his blood. Incredibly, Tilghman still lived, and he opened his eyes, saw her, and smiled. “Cassie.” he managed to say, coughing up blood after he called her name. “I’m dead. Swear to me that you won’t let the dream die with me.”
She fought back sobs. “You’re not dead!”
“Swear—to—me.”
“I—I swear, Adam.”
The Chief Judge of New Eden seemed to smile, but then the smile was frozen and the eyes remained open, staring at her no longer.
Jeff knelt down. “Grandma. He’s gone.”
She looked up at him and recognized him, despite her extensive change. “No!”
Matson came over to her. “Come on, Cassie. Me and Jeff will bring him with us.”
She looked up at him, her expression one of hurt, shock, and incomprehension. “Will he rise from the dead like you?”
“That depends on how well you can sweet-talk our daughter.” he replied. “It’s pretty much the same method. anyway.”
Suzl administered a sedative effect on Cassie, and she slept for quite a while after that. Only the fact that Suzl and the twins were there and assurances that the other kids were all right had given her any lift at all, or any thoughts beyond what had just happened in the tunnel.
Matson and the others could only marvel on the singular lack of activity on the part of Suzl and Spirit in their roles as interfaces and authority figures for the computer systems. Clearly the “shell programs” that were now a part of them gave them almost a dual mind, able to tend to all of the necessary things automatically while still retaining their identities. Spirit shrugged at his comment to this effect, and said, “Would you like a playback of the activation? It happened in a few trillionths of a second, but here’s what it sounded like.”
Sound filled the room, with strange voices only slightly distorted by electronics uttering foreign words.
“Headquarters checking in. All battle positions report in sequence.”
“Station Abel activated!”
“Station Baker activated!”
“Station Charlie activated!”
They went on and on, mostly women’s voices, he noted, but with a few men’s tones in there as well. The litany of Anchor positions had names that were very strange, yet bore an uncanny resemblance to names he knew well.
Delta . . . Edward . . . Frank . . . George . . . Henry . . . Ida . . . James . . . King . . . Luck . . . Mary . . . Nancy . . . Oscar . . . Peter . . . Queen . . . Roger . . . Steven . . . Thomas . . . Uncle . . . Victor . . . Walter . . . X-Ray . . . Yankee . . . Zebra . . . Technical Services Group. . . . Spirit told him that the last one was also often referred to as “Engineering” in the old days, which is why it was usually abbreviated “NG” on maps. The code names were those in use by the Signal Corps at the time the Anchors were established; the language itself was basically a corruption of English, although it included Company and majority of the early settlers knew or had in common, and was called English. Their language today was basically a corruption of English, although it included much of the noncommon languages of the early settlers, including Hindi, Urdu, Ibo, Arabic, Amharic, Bantu, and Flemish, to name some of them.
They all agreed that the idea of even two languages for a world was horrifying. None had ever even imagined the idea, except as codes.
But the final statement from headquarters stunned them all.
“All being in agreement. Forward Fire Base Fourteen is operational!”
“So that’s the sacred holy name of World.” Suzl remarked. “All this time the Church has been reverently invoking the name of an army base.” She giggled, then suddenly grew serious. “All those years I grew up praying to a big ball of gas and feeling holy at the sacred name Forfirbasforten. And we thought we knew it all.”
“Now I know a lot more than I did,” Matson responded. “We know that there are, or were, at least thirteen more colonies like this one somewhere, so there’s hope on that score, and we know by the name alone the precedence of the military in its planning and construction. Who drew the command job at headquarters?”
“I’ll check.” Spirit told him, then almost immediately said. “She says her name is Angela Robey, and she was a coordinator on the Codex Project.”
“Not a priestess, though. They’d go nuts with the truth like that one did here.”
“No, not a priestess. She was, in fact, a senior librarian in Anchor Yonkeh. Cassie herself tapped her for the Codex more than thirty years ago in Hope. She remained in charge after the Concordat. She’s got enormous power but is only partially trained in it.”
“A librarian! Does she know anything about military strategy and tactics?”
“The computer in Holy Anchor has everything there ever was on that. She knows how to organize people and she has on tap every single potential of the firebase defense system.”
Matson thought a moment. “That’s not the same as being under fire. Besides, all that strategy and tactics didn’t help the other worlds that were invaded. Can you patch me in to her or something?”
“Not directly, no. I’m afraid you’re just a false wizard, Matson. You can’t directly access the computers and they won’t recognize you as an output device. That’s why all you can conjure up are illusions.”
“How about voice?”
“O.K., but you don’t realize the speed at which these things, and we, operate. Both Suzl and I are sitting here talking to you, and doing literally millions of things, passing thousands of communications along, all in the pauses between sentences and our exchanges. It’s fascinating, but it’s also why I can’t explain to you just exactly what’s going on.”
“But you can contact any damned wizard in Flux and Anchor?”
She nodded. “Ones powerful enough to make a dent, yes.”
“Well, if you’ll make room in those thousands of messages to give the commander some thoughts given you in normal speech, and if you’ll cue me in on just what defenses we’ve got, maybe I’ll have a few suggestions on how we can beat the bastards.”
“That’s why the computers arranged for you to be here, Dad.”
He was struck by the irony of the comment, and very pleased at what it did for his ego. Here I am, he thought, in some son of fantastic contraption I’ll never understand, surrounded by two daughters, a grandson, an ex-lover and two wives who happen to be that ex-lover’s kids, and even the damned computer is asking me for advice! Demons of Hell, what a family!
As the day progressed, the fog lifted until there were only tiny wisps of it left. Gifford Haldayne drank a cup of stale coffee and looked down into the huge crater.
“I don’t like it,” he said to Sligh. “Something’s not right. I can feel it in my bones. First Champion’s cut in two, then those two crack soldier boys are found, one shot with his own gun, the other strangled, with no sign of the old man or his girl. Just some blood.”
“Have a little confidence!” Sligh admonished the other. “You were never one to fail under pressure before. What if they did escape to Nantzee or Mareh? Here we stand on the verge of reuniting World with the universe, and you worry about a couple of mere humans.”
“Not mere,” Haldayne pointed out. “The old boy’s one smart, tough cookie, and I once went head-to-head with that broad of his in Flux and damn near didn’t escape with my life. Uh-uh. Too much funny business. She was once crazy over that stringer Matson, and he’s here, too, and now we found out that the girl that got Champion was his daughter. Matson nailed Coydt and wound up with Tilghman’s daughters. You tell me it isn’t all connected.”
Sligh shrugged. “What if it is? We will be all-powerful if the ancient message is fulfilled. We will be in control of New Eden, its army, and an unlimited supply of Flux if nobody arrives. If some of our own kind show up, we’ll be here with our story first and we’ll be the ones they trust.”
“And if it’s the Enemy after all?” Haldayne asked nervously.
“Getting cold feet at a time like this? If it’s the Enemy, then we’ll need our army and the Tilghmans, Cassies, Matsons. and the rest, won’t we? You can’t back out now, anyway. That’s why we all agreed that once our remotes were installed and tested we’d all be here, in New Caanan. so we couldn’t go back at the last minute.”
“All but Ivan. I wonder what happened to him, too?”
“There was a faulty signal from one of the northern remotes. He went up there to fix it. There is no more faulty signal, so he evidently did. Time works against his being back, and I’m not going to hold everything up until he gets here. Wherever he is, I’m positive he’s no threat to us right now.”
Haldayne shrugged off his unease and reported. “The Judges that wouldn’t go along are taken care of, and the army’s been pretty well pulled back to defensive positions. I’ve notified all commands that we have discovered a plot to open the Hellgates and that it might not be stopped. They’re going to bring every available man and every piece of heavy equipment we’ve got, and we’re organizing in five battle groups. I’m going to miss that bridge Tilghman blew, though. It could make us short some heavy guns we might wish we had. I assume Ivan’s notified all those that the remains of the Nine couldn’t and our people didn’t. As we figured, the stringers have taken over operational command of the combined armies, so I think we can feel reasonably safe that nobody’s going to be too trigger-happy.”
The Seven were no fools. They understood that they were taking a gamble; a gamble they might well lose. They had as much percentage in a strong military force at each Hellgate as did the rest of World, if only for insurance.
Sligh chuckled, and Haldayne looked quizzically at him. “What’s the joke? I’d swear you aren’t any more human than those damned computers of yours.”
“I was just thinking. Here we finally have a way to open the Gates, and insure our own survival against a double-cross. Yet six of us stand here at this one Gate for that very reason. Suppose they only sent one ship? Or two? Suppose they don’t land at this Gate?”
“Now’s a fine time to think about that!”
“Oh, don’t worry. When the Gates open, all access to the Gates from Anchor will be shut down. Then there will be a purging but very controlled rush of Flux from the other side. This will destroy our cables and receivers, by the way, but don’t worry. Once open, all they’ll do is reset the regulators, not blow them up. Then whatever is out there can come in—apparently into this depression, and the others. Then the Gates will close once more, and they will once again be locked, to prevent two objects from occupying the same space. Whatever comes in must either move out or leave the same way it came before something else can come in. All our forefathers did was essentially tie in a bomb with a numerical code to the regulator and then reset the Gate for outgoing, as if something were here. We will key in the code to deactivate the bombs and then throw the switch, as it were, from outgoing to incoming. If nothing comes in this Gate, there is no purge, and we are still in communication from this end. But I think something will come, if they’re still out there. This was one of the three Gates in which the message was received.”
Haldayne looked at his watch. “It’s eleven forty now. When will you throw the switch?”
“I think we want a look at this in daylight, but I want to give the forces as much time as possible. Four hours of light should be sufficient. I would think. Fourteen hundred on the nose, then.”
“Fair enough. I’ll notify the others and the commands. I still feel something’s not quite right, though.”
“After all these centuries, it is as right as it will ever be.”
“The computer’s been tuned in to Haldayne and Sligh.” Suzl told them. “We’ve got a little more than two hours. Fourteen hundred, they said. They also said that the Gates will be purged, then whatever comes comes, then it all locks and switches back to normal.”
Matson nodded. “Then that’s when we have to move. Fast. Notify all commanders, and get the word to whatever wizards with forces are at the Anchor capitals. As soon as they get word that something’s in the dish, get in there and pack it solid.”
Sondra shook her head. “You really think it’ll work? I mean, nobody’s been able to dent the walls of this place with anything we’ve got. If something’s built to travel in Flux that thick. . . .”
“We don’t need to dent it, if I’ve guessed right. Look, you and Jeff are both strong wizards. You’ve had military training and can tie into the communications system like I can’t.” He turned to Candy and Crystal. “Girls, neither of you have had any military training in your lives, but you sure as hell can tie in like those two and send what I tell you. Are you willing?”
“We’d like to have sons and daughters and grandchildren, too,” they responded. “We said we’d love, honor, and obey. Just tell us what to do.”
He kissed each of them and said, “This time don’t get mixed up as to which one you are, huh?” He looked around. “As big as this family is. I still should’a had either two more daughters or two more wives. We can only cover four Gates with direct broadcasts to the wizards.”
“Don’t worry so much,” Spirit responded. “There are very good people at all the sites and they know what you’re up to. The orbital scanning satellites all decayed and burned fifteen hundred years ago, but through the transmissions I think I can get a general picture of each Hellgate on the screens. I—”
She stopped as she saw Cassie come out of the doorway between two screens. It led to a bathroom they still hadn’t completely figured out and had a series of bunk beds and a very small dining area. Apparently at the start this complex was staffed around the clock, and managed the comings and goings at the Gate. Food was simple. You just said what you wanted and Suzl used a small device in the dining area to create it out of Flux. It also, to her and Matson’s delight, materialized beer and cigars.
They all rushed over to Cassie, concerned. She had apparently washed herself off, but she looked weary. “I’m all right,” she assured them. “I’m all right. I heard everyone yelling in here and wondered what had happened and whether I could be of any help.”
“You sure you’re O.K.?” Suzl pressed.
She nodded. “I know he’s dead. I can accept that now. What of the children, though. Suzl?”
“They’re O.K. A couple of Fluxwives up top took ’em in. I’ve been checking on them when I could, but they’re in no more danger than we are, which is quite a lot.”
“You—you’re running this place?”
Quickly Suzl told her all the details to date. She nodded and sighed.
“You sure you’re feeling all right?”
“I’m tired, angry, frightened to death, and on top of that I’m horny as hell.”
“Join the club, then,” Sondra called from her command chair.
“We’re all about to break down and have a real cry, but we can’t afford to,” Suzl toJd her. “God! I just wish they’d throw the damned switches and get it over with!”
Spirit eased over to Matson and whispered. “Look at them! Even Suzl! They’re still just a mass of emotions, wants, and desires.”
Matson thought it over. “Yeah, it’s the bodies, the hormones, the glands, all that. But I’m not worried about it. It may sound crazy, but I wish I had Fluxgirls with guts in every control when the Enemy comes.”
She stared at him. “Why?”
“Suzl’s power came from you, remember. I heard about it when we were here trying to take this place back. Cass only held her own against Haldayne until she saw me fall. Don’t you see? The key to drawing full strength from that machine is emotion, not reason. You’ve been there yourself. It might just pay for you to get a little of that passion back yourself. You seem to have lost it the moment you stepped in here.”
“I lost my innocence,” she responded. “I admit I’m keyed up and more than a little scared, but you have to remember—I saw them all before they were like this. I don’t like what’s become of them.”
“Save your hate for the Enemy,” Matson told her. “There’s far too much hate in this world for the less important things now. Besides, as of now they’re only that way because that’s how they’ve been for a while and there’s an emergency. What they decide on after this is over will be what shapes their lives.”
“Perhaps you’re right. You seem fairly confident that we will get through this.”
“I’m always confident in a battle. It doesn’t make any practical sense to be otherwise until you lose. I think they’ll be sons of bitches, but I’m not sure the threat hasn’t been overblown. We’ve been held hostage and kept down on World for twenty-seven centuries because of them. I think we either free ourselves or we’ll live forever under this.”
“You sound like one of the Seven,” she said.
“They’re no better or worse than Mervyn and the Nine or a hundred Fluxlords, not really. They’re the only truly free people on World. Still, any enemy that can hold a grudge for all this time is something else again. Me, I’d prefer some enemy to our own people.”
“What!”
“Sure. I don’t think our relatives out there are gonna be all that happy to meet us.”
“How can you say that?”
“Twenty-seven hundred years ago, on some other planet called Earth which is all Anchor, they discovered Flux and how to use it, and they had their machines to make it jump through hoops. So instead of using it, they established at least fourteen colonies so far away that even they didn’t know where they all were. Why bother?”
“Exploration? Crowding?”
“Nope. There’s more profit in tyranny than in all this, and by number fourteen you’re colonizing, not exploring. Now, I read Haller’s journal and it’s pretty clear that the folks of his time had no idea that people and machines could get mixed up together. They used Flux only by machine—to get from there to here, to do the cooking, that kind of thing. Their aim was to turn this whole planet into Anchor, not use the Flux to do anything but make it Anchor. Why import farmers and shepherds and machinists when Flux would make what they wanted?”
“You tell me,” Spirit said wryly.
“I think Flux is probably the most dangerous thing they ever had to deal with. My guess is there was some really nasty accident in the early days that frightened them to death.”
“There’s nothing in the computer memory on it.”
“There wouldn’t be, necessarily. Now they wanted what Flux could give ’em, which was the power of a billion wizards, but they didn’t want it done close to home. The profits from it in an Anchor society would be tremendous, far more than the cost, but you don’t set up a colony and spend all that much to do it and have ’em sit here and make Flux teacups and steaks or even buildings. You want it to do the big stuff, the stuff that costs more to do the hard way no matter what the set-up costs here. And you don’t make big stuff with the Flux we got on World. You make it out of the stuff you see out there, beyond the Hellgate.”
“O.K.—but what happened?”
“Maybe too much Flux was allowed onto World. Maybe they had new kinds of computers they never used before. Who knows? But all the defensive systems, which are impressive, are Anchor systems. There’s really no consideration for Flux power. There’s no sign that they used their Flux amplifiers to work individual spells, or programs, or whatever you want to call them. They were intended to work with the stuff in the modules that the computers furnished. They were both frightened and amazed when they discovered that human beings could manipulate Flux through those machines without another machine. It scared the shit out of the army, who went to a great deal of trouble to create those independent programs, the Soul Riders and the Guardians, to limit access to what the big computers had, and to keep the computers from running them. Even there they got it wrong through ignorance. The big programs developed independent identities, became thinking beings, because the Soul Riders lived inside humans. They became humans—vicariously, anyway.”
“But the Guardians didn’t.”
“No, but they poked into every Anchorite with Flux power because they knew they’d need one when push came to shove. They were limited by their programs, but they also started taking independent action above and beyond their own needs. The Soul Riders only knew that they were to keep the Gates closed, so they went after the Seven. The Guardian, too, got involved in human affairs when it helped us. More than we know, I think. The Guardian couldn’t exactly use the computer, but it had to keep the thing repaired—so it learned a lot and got a lot of information which it fed to the Soul Riders when and if needed. They needed humans to get the information, so the Guardian talked to the Soul Riders and the Soul Riders used the hosts.”
Spirit nodded. “My Soul Rider was always convinced that it had an unseen master in Anchor. The master was the Guardian, then. It tapped the computer, sent the information needed to the Soul Rider, who then used it. The computers, you see, are nothing more than a collection of data in mathematical form. The Guardian and the Soul Rider are both required to actually get and use it, unless it’s in a program module. What you’re saying is that it was done that way to keep wizards from accessing the whole thing unaided.”
“That’s about it. So, think about it a while. They still got it wrong. The machines still used people—but within limits. Now they’re a part of you, and Suzl, and fifty-four other people we don’t know, and the process is complete. You’re not human, Spirit. Nobody in this room is really human, not even me. We’re all part human and part machine. If you got the power, or know somebody that does, you can be ageless, nearly immortal, just about never get sick, grow back lost limbs, even, under certain circumstances, be brought back from the dead. We—all of us in the top five or ten percent—are the masters of Flux and Anchor. For most of history the people of Anchor were terrified of Flux and its people. Even after all these centuries, I bet our relatives still will be.”
“I—” Spirit stopped suddenly. “My God! It’s nearly time!” She turned to the others. “Places, everybody! This is it!”
On the screens overhead there appeared huge pictures. They weren’t true pictures, but rather computer reconstructions of what was happening from its sensing abilities, but they looked real and were for all intents and purposes. Each showed an aerial view of a Hellgate, seven in all, with a small superimposed map of each cluster below with the pictured Gate flashing. All had substantial forces at or near the Gates, although the bulk would still be on the way. There was no way, short of asking specific questions, of telling the nature of those forces, or their origins.
The women were now in chairs and at their posts. Suzl lit a cigar and examined the screens, although with her direct computer link she had far more information at her disposal than they showed. Matson withdrew towards the center of the round room to get an easy view of all screens. Spirit stood silent, eyes half-closed, as if in a trance; Suzl walked back and forth, chomping nervously on the cigar.
Matson called to her. “You set upstairs?”
“Yeah. I rang every damned communicator in the Anchor and told them just what do do—and I used Sligh’s voice for it. They’re bringing the stuff in now. I’ve got myself tied in to every damned wizard around the Gate including most of the Seven, would you believe? And I’ve got beauties and the beast here linked in with the district commanders in clusters three, four, six, and seven, and I can shift them if necessary.”
A tremendous sound suddenly filled the chamber, causing all but Spirit and Suzl to jump. None had ever heard a klaxon horn before. It sounded three long blasts, blasts also sounded by the regulator at the Hellgates.
“MASTER GATE LOCK SEQUENCE KEYED,” announced an eerie, unfamiliar female voice at a level that was almost as loud as the horn. “AUTOTRIP INTERLOCK TO INCOMING.”
“That’s just the Gate computer altering the control room here,” Spirit assured them. “It’s the next message that’ll be the story.”
“INCOMING, GATES TWO, FOUR, SIX,” announced the voice. “VERIFYING GATES CLEAR.”
“Three of them!” Suzl yelled. “It’s not all seven!”
“BLOCKAGE ON GATE FOUR. SAFETY CHECK. SAFETY CHECK COMPLETED. STAND BY TO PURGE. ALL PERSONNEL STAND CLEAR OF GATE AREAS.'”
There was a second blast of the klaxon, this time one long and three short, which was repeated after a few seconds.
“Get the word out that it’s north and south only!” Matson shouted. “Shift any between-cluster forces north, but keep everybody else on the other Gates. This may only be the welcoming committee, not the main force. Shift Sondra to Gate Two, Jeff to Gate Six. Candy, Crystal— you stand by!”
“VERIFY INCOMING GATES CLEAR OF PERSONNEL. STAND BY FOR PURGE. PURGING. GATES PURGED. INCOMING IN TWO MINUTES, REPEAT, TWO MINUTES. RECEPTION AND SERVICE CREWS STAND BY.”
Out at the Hellgate, the enormous crowd had moved back at the ghostly warning and watched as the Hellgate turned from its emerald green color to a brightness that was impossible to look at. The cable leading down glowed briefly, then faded into nothingness all the way to the edge of the Anchor apron.
Sligh breathed a sigh of relief. “I guessed right in the connections after all. It didn’t blow.”
Gifford Haldayne turned and stared at him. “You guessed?”
“INCOMING, GATES TWO, FOUR. AND SIX, IN ONE MINUTE.”
“Here we go,” Matson said in a whisper. He suddenly cursed, seeing that he’d bit clean through his cigar.
“STAND BY GATE TWO. INCOMING IN TEN SECONDS . . . NINE . . . EIGHT . . . SEVEN … SIX … FIVE . . . FOUR . . . THREE . . . TWO . . . ONE . . . ACTIVATE MAIN REGULATOR. NOTE SHIP HAS PROPER RECOGNITION CODES BUT IS OF TYPE NOT IN MEMORY. LOGGED IN. TIME IN 14:01:41.”
On the screen and at the Gate they watched as the great bowl-shaped depression that was the total Hellgate pulsed and throbbed with light and shook the ground nearby with regular vibrations in time to the pulsing.
A fountain of pure Flux came out of the hole and rose high into the afternoon sky, perhaps twenty meters above the ground level. It steadied, then put forth streamers of energy that formed a skeletal framework, as if some giant hand were drawing a detailed blueprint in Flux. This was pure Flux, and could be seen by all, whether or not they had the power, and the sight was awesome.
“It’s a program,” Suzl said wonderingly. “They change the whole damned thing into a Flux program, like the Guardian or the Soul Rider, then squirt themselves through on the strings! When it gets here, enough Flux is drawn out of the Gate to reform it into solids just like it was.”
“Then our computers must be working that program!” Matson shouted. “Tell ’em to turn it off!”
“We tried that seconds ago,” Suzl told him, tense and excited now, as if “seconds” meant “years.” “It doesn’t work. It’s an overriding command, strictly automatic, as a safety feature!”
The four equatorial Gates remained quiet, but at the two Gates to the north the scene in their own cluster was being repeated before an equally awed and extremely frightened horde who didn’t have the benefits of computer speed or access.
The process was completing itself now, and in the three Gate bowls sat solid-looking objects of enormous size. To everyone they looked like metal versions of a child’s spinning top, although they had a bottom curving to more or less fit the bowl. As large as they were, though, it was clear that they had not been designed for these receiving depressions; the ships were angled and off-center, and had slowly pitched forward to rest on one rounded side a good five meters below the top of the depression, while rising five on the opposite side.
“BERTHING COMPLETED. GATE RESET TO OUTGOING. GROUND CREWS STAND BY TO ASSIST PASSENGERS AND CREW.”
“Well, they have smaller ships than we did,” Spirit sighed.
“Yeah, well, that’s a fact,” Matson responded, “but it don’t mean anything. If they’re the size of cockroaches there could be a million of them.”
“They’re not. They’re all in box-like containers. We saw it as the thing formed, and were able to count them.”
“How many?”
“Each box is a hundred and fifty-two point four centimeters long, ninety centimeters high, and ninety-two point seven centimeters across. There’s a space between each one, and fifty percent is cargo and machinery for the ship. The computer estimates that there are two thousand three hundred and forty-two such boxes, each containing a living organism.”
“Well, that’s something,” he said. “The others the same?”
“Exactly the same,” she responded, eyes shut.
“O.K., we outnumber them but probably don’t outgun them. That means that either they think they have all the power they need or they’re only the first wave.”
“The external area is being computer scanned in extreme detail,” she told him. “The nature and language of the scan are incomprehensible, but the actions are clear and deliberate.”