The Causal Angel (Jean le Flambeur) (28 page)

‘I think Joséphine needed me to steal the jewel. But she needed you to
use
it. She needed someone who wanted, wanted in a way that the Kaminari jewel would accept. And she did not want her instrument to fall into All-D’s hands.’

Mieli stares at the thief.

‘That’s insane!’

‘Is it? But it does lead to conclusions that you might not like. Can I see that chain you wear, the one that your friend Sydän gave you?’ He smiles sheepishly. ‘I promise not to steal it, this time.’

Frowning, Mieli whispers to her ankle chain, opens it and hands it to the thief. It spirals into the air from his hand and rotates, like the DNA of some strange crystal animal.

‘Now, the nice thing about Realms is that they try to preserve the quantum information contained in anything that’s brought in here. It’s a good way to study things. I should have had a closer look at this before, but you always made it clear it would not be good for my health.’

A spime opens around the chain, a digital shadow flickering with annotations. The stones in it are simple Oortian smartcoral, made with whispers to resemble the Great Work Mieli and Sydän built, a long time ago. The thief frowns and zooms in. The jewels become first a crystal mountain range, then a grid of interlocking molecules. It looks familiar, and it takes a moment for Mieli to realise why.
Prometheus. It’s like the surface of Prometheus. Too regular.

‘Hidden picotech,’ the thief says. ‘Probably something Joséphine stole from the zoku: she was never too concerned with remaining ideologically pure. Now, you would have to ask your zoku friends what this thing does, but my guess would be that it is some sort of volition analysis engine, like the zoku jewels.
What makes Mieli, daughter of Karhu tick? What does she want
?’ The thief sighs. ‘Mieli, I hate to say it, but I think your Sydän was working for Joséphine from the day you met her.’

Mieli stands up and grabs the chain. She stares down at the thief, who leans back in his chair, a sad smile on his face. A part of her wants to strike him again, but she has no rage, no strength left.

‘You are lying,’ she whispers. ‘This is a trick. You are trying to—’

‘Mieli,’ the thief says softly, ‘what do you think I am trying to do, exactly? I have nothing to gain from this.’ He pauses. ‘I’m trying to keep a promise. I’m trying to tell you things you need to hear.’

He looks at his empty glass and gets up. ‘Not exactly my strong suit, I know. I’ll leave you alone for a while. Come find me in the pilot’s cabin when you are done. I’m going to check on how things are going in Supra City.’

Mieli watches him walk away and disappear in a swirl of silver dust. She wraps her toga tighter around her and walks to the railing. The wind has picked up, and jagged glassy waves crash against the ship’s sides. She holds the jewelled chain in her hand.
It can’t be true.
But a part of her knows it is, a pattern that is as inevitable as the next note in a song. She tries to think of Sydän, but can’t hold on to her face. Mieli’s thoughts of her dissolve like Sydän’s face, erased by the data wind from the singularity on Venus.

Made for a purpose
, Zinda said. She thinks of the glowing jewels the zoku girl laid down onto the grass, for Mieli, pieces of herself, one by one.
What a fool I have been.
A sudden longing blooms in her chest. And fear, a memory of the horror on Hektor, the non-face. She imagines it swallowing Saturn.

She squeezes Sydän’s chain in her hand so hard the edges of the stones dig into her flesh.

‘Kuutar and Ilmatar, not this one,’ she whispers, looking at the yellow moon. ‘Give me the strength to save her.’

Mieli replaces the chain around her ankle. It is cold from the sea air.
It is good to keep reminders of your mistakes.

She stands in the bow of the ship for a moment, looking at the horizon. White waves rise and fall against the hull, like beating wings.

It is also good to finally know where she is going.

She whispers one last prayer to the moon and goes to find the thief.

*

I recognise a certain look on Mieli’s face when she returns. The last time I saw it was on Earth, when she fought a mercenary army and the wildcode desert by herself.

She says nothing, simply stands next to me and studies the spimescape, the hopeless tangle trying to represent millions of raions and zoku ships around Saturn. At least the
guberniyas
are obvious: all seven of them, positioned in Lagrange points, armed and dangerous, as only planet-sized zeusbrains can be.

‘It is difficult to tell what is going on. The particle storm is too dense, and I can’t access the Great Game intelligence network. But there is a lot of structural damage to Supra City.’ I swallow, thinking of Sirr on Irem. ‘A lot of strangelet events, a couple of Hawking blasts, nothing bigger than that yet. But it’s only a matter of time.’

Mieli narrows her eyes.

‘Here is what we are going to do,’ she says. ‘We are going to get to the Kaminari jewel before the All-Defector does. We are going to steal it from the Great Game Zoku. And then we are going to put things right.’

I smile. ‘Well, that’s a thought.’
Stealing the fire of the gods, that sort of thing.
‘Are you sure the Great Game won’t use it?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Do you know where it is?’

Mieli frowns. ‘I … heard something in the Great Game’s Realm. They talked about a Planck brane.’

I take a deep breath. ‘Oh my. They’ve hidden it in
a parallel universe.’

I should have let my other self tell me his plan. Mental note: never interrupt a villain who is monologuing.

I grit my teeth. If he could come up with it, so can I. I massage my temples.

The Planck brane.
Of course. The ekpyrotic cannon. The idea leads to others, like dominoes falling.

I turn to Mieli. ‘All right, I have a plan. Step one is to persuade the Father of Dragons to stop sulking.’

Mieli raises her eyebrows. ‘And step two?’

‘You’ll see. We may have to destroy Saturn in order to save it.’ I get up. ‘Come on. I’m going to introduce you to Matjek Chen. You’ve already met, of course, but he has grown up quite a bit since then.’

I take a deep breath in the main corridor. I have been putting of talking to Matjek for a while, but the time has come. And finally, I actually know what to say to him. This time, the bookshop vir opens easily as Mieli and I walk through the gate.

The boy is not sitting in his usual spot. The vir is silent, except for the quiet whisperings of the stories of Sirr.

‘Matjek! Where are you? I’ve brought an old friend to see you.’

There is no answer. I open the admin interface to the vir, make it transparent to my gaze. He is nowhere to be found.

I summon the cat avatar. It appears obediently.

‘Where is Matjek Chen?’ I ask. It cocks its head and looks at me with its glassy eyes.

‘Young Master ran away,’ it says in its whirring voice. ‘He said to tell you he’s gone to find himself.’

I can’t suppress a groan.
So, it’s Young Master now, is it? I should have kept a closer eye on him.
I access the ship’s records of our passage past the F-ring and in the vicinity of the Sobornost fleet. They confirm my suspicions: a thoughtwisp was launched without my knowledge when we were passing the orbit of Rhea.

‘Is the copy of the Kaminari jewel the previous Prime acquired still on board?’

‘Negative,’ the cat says. ‘The Young Master took it with him.’

I close my eyes and press both fists against my forehead, hard. ‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’

‘What is it?’ Mieli asks.

‘Matjek has gone to kill the Chen-Prime.’

For the past weeks, Matjek has been moving through the
Leblanc’
s systems like a ghost. I review spimescape snapshots, watch him work his way up in the privilege hierarchy, until he has access to the small space where the few physical objects onboard the ship are stored, wrapped in q-dot gel. I watch a smartmatter shell form around the fake Kaminari jewel. He fuses it with a thoughtwisp and launches it – and himself – at just the right moment, when the
Leblanc
is carrying out the high-G manoeuvre of grabbing Mieli.

‘Why in the Dark Man’s name would he do that?’ Mieli asks.

‘He found out about what he became when he grew up,’ I say. ‘Doesn’t matter how.’ I tell her about the weapon the Great Game planned to use on the chens. ‘He has gone to detonate it under Matjek Chen-Prime’s ass.’

Mieli shrugs. ‘I’m sorry for the boy,’ she says. ‘But this is war, and if it works, he could save us all a lot of trouble.’

‘Except that as you found out, all the higher chens are now infected with All-D. Matjek doesn’t know that. And he is just a boy. He is not ready for this.’ I close my eyes. ‘I’m going after him.’

‘What?’

‘You are the one who almost got us both killed to protect this boy’s innocence, remember?’ I try to keep my voice cold. ‘Besides, we need him.’

As we speak, I track the trajectory of the thoughtwisp. It went straight at the main body of the Sobornost fleet. Right at the chen
guberniya.
I can launch a faster wisp: I don’t have to worry about extra payloads like the fake jewel. Still, he will get there a few seconds before I do. That might as well be an eternity. Even the microseconds in the
Leblanc’
s fast-time vir might make a difference.

‘Need him for what?’ Mieli asks.

I take a deep breath. ‘We need two things to qupt to the Planck brane. One: matter that is entangled with something over there. That will have to be your department. By the sound of it, the Spooky-zoku have something like it. Two: we need a modulated gravitational wave source. We are made of stuff that is stuck on this brane, but gravity sees the higher bulk dimensions. Make a big enough bang and its gravitational echo will carry there.

‘The Gun Club Zoku have a device called an ekpyrotic cannon, Matjek and I saw it when we stole the
Leblanc.
Assuming Iapetus is still intact, we will need it. Matjek got into their gunscape virs last time, and I’m certain he left back doors. I don’t think we can get in without him, not this time. I managed to piss Barbicane off pretty royally.’

Mieli raises an eyebrow. ‘I can relate,’ she says, dryly. Then she grows serious. ‘Jean, this is the worst plan I have ever heard. You can’t go up against the chens and the All-Defector alone. The last time you tried, they caught you. I’ll come with you.’

‘No,’ I say firmly. ‘If we don’t make it, you will at least have a chance with the zoku. And I have more tricks up my sleeve than last time. You take the
Leblanc
to Saturn, and try to get us some Planck brane entanglement. Matjek and I will meet you there.’

‘Very well.’ Mieli looks down. ‘But how in Dark Man’s name am I supposed to get the stuff? I can’t just go knocking on the Spooky-Zoku’s door.’

I think for a moment. ‘I trust you, Mieli. You will find a way. But maybe this will help.’ I pass her Isidore’s last qupt that contains the Kaminari’s message. ‘This is the last mystery that Isidore Beautrelet solved. It shows you how to make a viral zoku. Maybe it will help.’

Mieli accepts it, her mouth a line of grim resolve.

‘Kuutar and Ilmatar go with you,’ she says quietly. ‘And Jean? Try to come back. I’m tired of losing friends. And I can’t find the words for death-songs anymore.’

I stare at her, astonished. Then I give her a grin. ‘I know what you mean. Don’t worry. I have a feeling it will be a high roll, this time.’

I take her strong, small hand and squeeze it hard. Her fingers are cold. ‘I have been many things, but I have never been an Oortian’s friend before. It makes me proud. Take care of yourself, Mieli. It’s been fun.’

With that, I pass the admin rights of the
Leblanc
over to her, think a thoughtwisp into being in the ship’s mass driver, and launch myself at the Sobornost fleet.

Interlude

THE GODDESS AND THE DEMON

Joséphine waits, sitting on the sand. She lets her metaself soothe her into a timeless state of readiness. Eventually, the pale morning comes, and the All-Defector returns.

She gets up. There are butterflies in in her belly.

The All-Defector is still wearing Matjek’s shape, but the grown-up one, now, the monkish countenance and the grey hair. She imagines it striding through the
guberniya
in the glory of its Prime aspect, devouring high-ranking gogols with its mirror maw, sating its appetite.

She smiles at it.

‘I am ready,’ she says, looking at it like a lover after a long absence. ‘You can take me now.’

For a moment, the All-Defector hesitates, looking into her eyes, as if wanting to say something. Then it whispers the Founder Code of Matjek Chen. It rings in the dream-vir like a thunderclap. The demiurges scream and scatter. Briefly, there is a glimpse of the All-Defector’s Prime aspect, towering over the vir, seeing everything. The Joséphine-partial crumbles like dry sand and is no more.

‘You can come out now, Joséphine,’ the All-Defector says.

Joséphine gets up from her hiding place. Her bones feel fragile. Her legs shake.

‘A partial with a self-destruct loop hidden inside,’ the All-Defector says chidingly. ‘That was never going to work.’

‘How did you know?’

‘Another pellegrini tried a similar trick. You are very predictable, Joséphine. You all are. And that is the problem.’

For a moment, he is her Jean, in a white suit and blue glasses, the one she made the partial to love and adore, and in spite of herself, her breath catches in her throat.

‘This is what you wanted, isn’t it? A mirror that reflects you perfectly. Well, I am the mirror that becomes. I look at you and make myself into you, know you better than you know yourself.’

‘If you are going to torture me,’ Joséphine says, ‘please do not use philosophy. I thought there was something of him left in you, and I was right. You really are a terrible poet.’

‘It’s not poetry. It’s what I am.’