Lords of the Seventh Swarm (17 page)

Chapter 16

Maggie spent much of the day in her room, lost in thought. She could see why Zeus would be terrified after Lord Felph’s maniacal display this morning. The murder of Zeus’s clones, the sight of his brains spattering against the floor, had shocked Maggie to the core. Certainly it must have dismayed Zeus even more.

If Maggie were Zeus, she’d leave, too. Indeed, this whole morning, Maggie had been thinking: whatever her promise to Lord Felph the night before, she saw now he was mad. She’d come to Ruin searching for a place to bear her child in peace. She’d hoped Felph’s palace might afford security.

Now she had to wonder. Felph frightened her; but what had he really done?

Destroyed clones—lumps of unaware flesh. Violence against clones, however terrifying was not the same as violence against a person.

Still, Felph seemed threatening.

Or was he simply trying to teach a lesson? Felph claimed he wanted to teach his children responsibility. They’d never had to learn the consequences of their actions.

Silently, Maggie damned Felph for what he’d done to his own children. Never mind that he claimed to love them. He was as manipulative as anyone she’d ever met.

Yet she didn’t entirely trust Zeus, either. She’d been warned that he was more than he seemed. She knew she couldn’t trust appearances.

Maggie lay on her bed most of the afternoon, unable to rest. She wished Gallen were here, or that she’d gone with him. She craved the security of his presence.

At the same time, she recognized that this would give her an opportunity to get to know Felph’s children. It might be necessary to rescue them from their father. Such an operation would be messy, if Felph refused to let them go.

Maggie imagined various confrontations with the old man. He was moody, unpredictable. He kept a gun in his pocket.

Gallen might have to kill him. But what would that accomplish? The Controller in Felph’s head kept contact with the artificial intelligence in Felph’s revivification chamber. If Gallen killed Felph, the Al would download his memories into a clone, resurrecting the man. Security droids could secrete Felph in hidden wings of his palace, where Gallen wouldn’t be able to strike.

Maggie might have to dismantle the Al in the revivification chamber. If Gallen had to kill Felph, it would be better to leave the man dead.

But killing Felph would not be enough. Certainly, Felph had formidable resources. As they’d flown the florafeems, she’d seen silver torsos of security droids roving the perimeter of Felph’s grounds. While Felph might reasonably claim that these droids kept predators off his grounds, those droids could also keep his children on his property. So if Felph’s children were to escape, those droids would have to be neutralized.

Maggie knew her thoughts were traveling down dangerous paths. Sabotaging the ground’s droids, murdering Felph. The ideas seemed paranoid. Yet defeating the killer droids, murdering Felph—both were jobs that would require certain technical knowledge only Maggie could access. The mantle she wore held the key to freedom.

So much for searching for a safe place to have her baby. Felph’s palace, as luxurious as it seemed, might be nothing more than a glorified prison. Certainly, Felph’s children were virtual slaves. The stone walls suddenly seemed suffocating.

Yet even now, Maggie couldn’t be certain Felph was the Monster she imagined.

Was Zeus merely trying to play on Maggie’s sympathies for his own reasons?

Maggie found herself in a quandary. She wanted to question Felph’s children, yet Zeus’s hints made her feel insecure talking to anyone. Zeus had said that Hera was certainly Felph’s spy. Then there was Herm; Maggie did not trust the winged man. He always wore a slight smile which said, “I know more than you. I have secrets.”

So, Maggie was in a turbulent frame of mind as she made her way to the North Garden.

The evening came peacefully, Darksun dipping over the west hills in a blaze of gold that painted high clouds in shades of saffron. Almost immediately, even before the sun fell, Brightstar began to blaze, gaping like a hole in the night.

Maggie walked down the stone paths, along hedges that carried rose blooms in a hundred shades of blue. The scent of freshly tilled earth, of grass trampled under the wheels of gardener droids, all mixed with the scent of myriad roses.

Felph’s roses were exotic. Some had been genetically altered to exude a bouquet of natural scents, like lemon, ginger, or tangerine. Other blooms had odd-shaped petals. Maggie had seen frilled roses on Tangor, roses that looked more like carnations. But Felph’s collection included tufted roses with cottony petals. Others had enlarged stamens and small silky petals, like orchids.

The climbing roses scaled elaborate arbors carved from white marble, which arched over her head, forming extravagant walls around her, until she came to the center of the garden, secreted deep within the hedges. There, on a small hillock, an onyx statue of a huge peacock, his tail in full display, stood regally near a rocky pool while statues of peahens seemed to delicately feed in the grass around the pool.

The waters of the pool did not have a fountain, as she’d expected. Instead, the water merely burbled up from below ground, adding small liquid sounds to the scene. A few sparrows winged over the pool, dipping into the water. As Maggie watched, a nereid splashed, swimming on her back, breasts bobbing in the water as her tail flapped lazily. Maggie stood watching the thing, unsure. If it were some genetically altered creature or merely a viviform. Whatever she was, the nereid was lovely. She had a creamy complexion, sweet face, hair of a sea green, blue eyes filled with delight. The nereid splashed about, as if unaware of Maggie’s presence, and Maggie decided that the creature must be a viviform, a work of art that only mimicked life.

Maggie waited on a stone bench for twenty minutes, till Darksun set. Then Zeus appeared with a basket. Maggie could smell sweet scents within—fresh bread and fruits. Zeus hardly said hello before he opened the basket, brought out a bottle of wine and two cups, filled them. He set the plates, then began opening silver containers of food.

“Grilled skog in raspberry sauce with fresh mint,” he said, not at all enthusiastically. The next plate contained rye bread, covered with cheese and poppy seeds, followed by vegetable dishes and a compote of mixed tropical fruits, cooked in brandy.

All these Zeus served with a singular lack of energy, a self-absorbed air, so Maggie wondered what sort of inner storm might be brewing in him.

After he’d set the first bowl on the stone bench and became so brooding he forgot to remove the lid, Maggie took his hand. “What’s troubling you?” she asked. “What are you thinking?”

Zeus hung his head. Here in the dark, with only moon and starlight shining on him, she could not see his eyes. They were lost beneath lanky hair. But when he startled, glanced up, starlight gleamed in his dark eyes. It surprised her. She had not been prepared for the intensity, the passion in his eyes. “I … I feel guilty,” he whispered. “My problems aren’t yours. I should not have tried to involve you in this. Forgive me. It was … so thoughtless.” Zeus uncovered two platters. The only sound to pierce the night was the ringing of silver.

“It wasn’t thoughtless,” Maggie said. “I know you wouldn’t do it lightly. Are you frightened?”

Zeus gave a laugh. “Frightened, of my father? No. The man loves me—he says. He loves me so much, he will never let me go. But I am not frightened of him.

“Forgive me, Maggie, this is none of your affair. You should not become … embroiled.”

He fell silent again. She said softly, “Let me judge that. I understand your pain. I was imprisoned by a Guide once. I know what it is to be a slave.”

Zeus looked up at her; hope kindled in his dark eyes. “Then you know how it feels, year after year, longing for release! I think, I think this morning some mad fit took me. I swear, I ran naked out into the sunlight for the first time, and I wanted to throw myself from the citadel in joy, to feel perfect liberty, to be unencumbered.”

Zeus got up, stalked to the edge of the fountain, and looked out over the gardens to a line of stars that lay heavy on the hills. “What a fool I must appear. I thought that because Felph removed my Guide, he would let me go free.”

He stood, hands clasped behind his back, staring up.

“I could help you,” Maggie said. Thinking furiously. She had determined earlier to reserve judgment, to let him reveal himself slowly. But now, here in his presence, hearing the intensity behind his words, she didn’t doubt that he fervently wanted to be free. She’d been imprisoned by a Guide for only a few days. What would it be like to remain imprisoned for years, craving freedom, in the way that Zeus had been genetically engineered to crave?

Zeus shook his head, then wandered back to the bench. From his basket, he silently brought out a single candle, lit it, and set it between their plates. Once again he became lost in contemplation.

“Please,” he said after a moment, “let us not mar a fair dinner with foul conversation.” He raised his glass of wine in salute. “To my fair Maggie, who through her kindness has already won for me all the freedom I’ve ever known.”

Zeus drained his cup, and Maggie followed suit. The wine was stronger than any Maggie could remember having tasted, with a fruity bouquet, mildly sweet.

They ate quietly. The food was superb. Despite her dark thoughts, Maggie found that the wine and surroundings lightened her mood. The stars shimmered, the aroma of roses washed the air. A slight warm wind breathed through the gardens, while burbling pools made their own music. Maggie felt light-headed.

Zeus refilled her wine. “No, no more for me,” Maggie apologized. “I’m feeling foggy.”

“Ah, I’m sorry, Zeus said, breathing deeply. “You’re right. I’ve had too much, too.” He stood. “Will you walk with me?”

Maggie tried to stand; the ground seemed to wobble under her. Zeus caught her elbow before she fell, steadied her.

He laughed. “Take off your shoes. The grass here feels good under your feet.”

He pulled off his own shoes. Maggie did the same. He led her down a trail to the north, through the thick carpet of grass, along a dark border of roses.

The sky blazed with stars, for Brightstar was now setting. Maggie heard a faint whooshing noise and looked up. Under the starlight, dozens of creatures, like small florafeems the size of plates, hurtled through the night sky in a bouncing gait, like stones skipping through heaven.

Zeus led Maggie to a palace wall. They looked over darkened wheatfields. “There are the meadows of freedom,” Zeus said, “where I want to run.”

“How far do you think you need to get?” Maggie asked. She had thought Zeus would want to leave the planet. Now she wondered if he might only want to get away from the palace, live in the desert, as unpleasant as that sounded.

“I must get off-world, get lost in the wider universe. If I do, Felph might not follow. I hope he’d let me go.”

“He has your genome in stock,” Maggie said. “If you fled off-world, it would be easier to build a replica of you than hunt for you.”

“I’ve been thinking of the Milky Way,” Zeus said absently. “So far away. It sounds exotic. Do you ever consider returning?”

“Yes, I’ll return,” Maggie said.

“Where to?” Zeus asked. “Tell me about the world you long for.”

The question troubled Maggie. She could not return to Tihrglas, not legally. Higher technologies were outlawed there thousands of years before she was born. The wights enforced that ban, artificial beings she’d been raised to believe were malevolent spirits. On Tihrglas she’d been ignorant of the larger universe—of space travel and genetic enhancements, of telecommunications and nanotechnology. In a coastal village she’d worked in an inn from sunrise to sundown, wearing out her hands and her joints. Nearly everywhere in the universe, life was easier than it had been on Tihrglas. Droids did the dirty work. AIs handled tasks that were too tedious for mankind. Genetic engineering and medications removed most afflictions from life.

Yet Maggie, was beginning to suspect that technology had really failed to make her life much richer. It did not give life a purpose, a sense of fulfillment.

As Maggie considered what kind of world she dreamed of, she considered her memories of life on Tremonthin where the Inhuman had downloaded the images from a hundred lifetimes filled with struggle and toil, craving and desire. People had access to life-enhancing technologies on Tremonthin, yet it had brought mostly sadness in the lives she recalled. It merely gave men a goal, perhaps a false goal, to struggle for. No, if it was contentment she wanted, her thoughts returned to Tihrglas, to the eternity she’d sometimes felt at the end of a rugged day when she finished cleaning the kitchens at Mahoney’s Inn, or the enjoyment she’d had just listening to old Dan’l Sullivan play his fiddle by the stove on a winter’s night, while the old folks reminisced.

I know too much
, she realized. Six months earlier, when she’d been on dronon with Gallen trying to fight the invaders or their home world, her mantle had filled her with elation at discovering the secrets of dronon technology.

She’d imagined that the heart-pounding wonder would never end. Learning the secrets of dronon technology would help give her life focus, the purpose she’d always sought.

She’d been so naive. Now she knew better: true, the dronon built powerful gravity drives, better than those mankind had developed, The plasma cannons on dronon warships shot farther than those mankind used. Their walking hive cities were marvels of technology by any standard.

All of it was worthless.

Maggie had dropped her brogue accent months before. Now for Zeus’s sake, she affected it. “On my home world, it’s like this we’d be talking, and it’s not the kind of place you’d brag to your mother after.”

Zeus laughed at her accent, thoroughly charmed.

“The streets get all full of mud after a rain, and when I was a lass, I liked to look in the puddles, to see how they mirrored the sky, and to see how the dark pine trees glowered above me. It’s a smart man who knows how to keep to the margin of the road when he’s riding a horse, for many a horse will slip and fall in the muck.