The Scorpion Rules (31 page)

Did I?

He did not tell me, like a villain in a vid, that I had no choice. I simply knew that I had no choice.

“I'll tell him,” I said.

“Up you get, then. It's almost time.”

I pushed myself up from the tilt table, feeling both too loose and too stiff, and altogether strange.

Talis led me out into the broadening light.

On the lawn, at dawn, they gathered—the parties of war. The Abbot, leaning on a stick. Armenteros, making her starched dress uniform look rumpled. Buckle, solemn. Tolliver Burr, hanging back like a kicked dog. Elián, holding himself apart from the other Cumberlanders. Da-Xia, who hadn't been invited but who put herself at the center of the world by sheer force of will.

Brother Delta was there too. The old machine had his head bent to the Abbot's, conferring quietly. I was surprised to see him there, until he turned and glanced up the slope and I saw he was wearing my mother's face.

I paused.

Talis reached over and laced his fingers through mine.

We picked our way down the rocky slope, past the goat pens, hand in hand.

The Precepture hall bulked grey behind us. Overhead were high cirrus clouds blazing yellow and orange in the cobalt sky.

We reached the others. Talis let me go. For a moment we all stood staring at one another.

Then Talis clapped his hands together, with a sound like a rifle shot cracking the cool still air. “Right. Here's the deal. Cumberland, here”—he put both index fingers to his lips, then drew a circle in the air, ending up pointing at Armenteros—“has invaded my Precepture. I, in turn, have destroyed their capital. Now, I'm nothing if I'm not magnanimous, so I'm going to call that even. On the following terms: First, the Cumberlanders are leaving. Now. I want your people lifting off by noon, General. And every stick of your equipment. Leave anything behind—an eavesdrop bug, a weapon for young Elián, so much as a cigarette butt in my potato patch—and I will encase it in a lead shell and drop it back on your heads at escape velocity. Is that clear?”

Armenteros said nothing.

“Done?” prompted the AI.

“Done,” said Armenteros.

“Second, I'm keeping you, Wilma.” He bumped his folded fingers under her chin, as if she were a cat he was fond of. “To do with as I like.”

“But—” said Elián.

“Done,” said Armenteros.

“You can't—” said Elián.

“Third,” said Talis, speaking over him, “I want Burr.”

“What!” said Burr, turning white.

“Relax.” Talis clapped the torturer on the shoulder. “If I'm to make an example of Wilma, here, I could use a cameraman.”

Burr breathed out. “Oh.”

“And after that— If you'll remember, you
did
put your hands on my hostages. Haven't decided what to do about that.” He shrugged wickedly. “What do you think? Sternly worded letter?”

“General!” said Burr, whirling toward her.

“Done,” said Armenteros into Burr's desperate face.

I hoped dearly that Tolliver Burr would faint. He looked near to it.

“Aaaand, that'll do me,” said Talis. “I'm a simple man.” Which was, on at least two counts, a flat-out lie.

“Excuse me, Lord Talis,” said my mother's voice.

“Your Majesty?” Talis turned and bowed—not deeply, but formally, like a duke.

“Thank you.” My mother held Brother Delta's fingers steepled. Her face was zoomed to fill the screen, but I could just see the heavy coils of her ashes-and-strawberries wig sweeping backward over the tips of her ears. “With respect, your terms seem to leave untouched the state of war that exists between Cumberland and the Pan Polars.”

“Oh, right,” Talis said. “That. Cumberland wants to sue for peace.” He cued Wilma Armenteros with one sharp finger.

“Cumberland,” she rumbled, “wants to sue for peace.” There was some hint of humor or defiance buried in that. Suddenly I could see where Elián got it.

Talis peered at Queen Anne over the tops of his glasses. “I would advise you to make no demands.”

“Surely, Lord Talis, that is a sovereign matter?”

“Surely,” he said. “But the PanPols have no cause to demand reparations. You have not suffered.”

Queen Anne lifted her eyebrows. “I am not sure my daughter would agree, milord.”

“Greta,” said Talis coolly, “is
mine. And I would advise you to make no demands.
”

Precise words, clicking out from between his teeth like pearls. I saw my mother grapple with them a moment, trying to unpack, to analyze. Then she turned to Armenteros, giving Talis a view of her borrowed shoulder. “The Pan Polar Confederacy waives its right to reparations. Withdraw your forces and your demands against the lake, Madame Secretary, and we will have peace.”

“Witness?” Armenteros glanced at Da-Xia.

“On behalf of the Mountain Glacial States, no party to this conflict, I witness this peace,” she said. “I bind you to it and I wish you joy of it.” I was confident that Xie had never had occasion to officially witness a treaty, but she did it flawlessly. Of course she did.

“Thank you, Your Divinity,” said Armenteros formally, and Xie answered, equally formal: “Long may peace endure.”

“
Very
long,” said Talis. “Or I will show you all a thing or two about endurance.” He pulled off his glasses and folded them away. “Now that that's settled, shoo, warriors. I want to talk to my Children.”

Thus shooed, they went. Buckle took Armenteros under the arm as they walked away. The general was perhaps more frightened than she was letting on. I could not help a glance at Tolliver Burr trailing the officers, more wolf than dog. At the edge of the lawn the apple press seemed to keep its darkness as the light rose. Armenteros was right to be afraid.

Even after the rest of the Cumberlanders were gone, Elián stayed right at my side. And Brother Delta, with my mother's virtual presence still animating him, lingered too. Talis flicked his fingers at her. “I said, shoo.”

She inclined her head respectfully. “My Lord Talis. I had only hoped for a word with my daughter.” She paused, her eyes seeking me, but her face, and Brother Delta's heavy head, quite steady. “A good-bye,” she said. “Just that.”

“Later,” he said.

Her lips parted. So far as she knew, there would be no later.

“Later,”
said Talis, baring his teeth at her.

Queen Anne nodded, her face turned on the screen as she reached for a switch, and she was gone. Brother Delta stood abandoned. Talis looked at the still form, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “Power up, then. Scurry off.” But nothing happened. Talis slapped the side of the head casing, hard. “Wake up.”

Brother Delta's facescreen flashed and solarized, then focused and blinked. “Yes?”

“Leave,” said Talis.

We watched him go. The Abbot spread his hexapod support gingerly, using the stick to help him shift his center of gravity lower. Da-Xia stepped forward and took his other hand. “He's getting old,” the Abbot said, softly. “I suppose we all are.”

“Gee,” said Elián. “Getting old. A fate worse than— Oh, wait, no it's not.”

“I'll upgrade him,” said Talis, ignoring Elián.

The Abbot was as near to sitting now as a thing with no waist ever got. He nodded to Xie. “Thank you, child. I'm all right.”

“Are you?” said Talis. “Because it looks to me like the cascade is . . .” He fiddled his fingers. “Cascading.”

“As they do,” said the Abbot. “I have some time yet, Michael. Tend to your other business.”

“Yeah, about that: Is my room online?”

“The grey room?” said Elián.

“No,” said the Abbot, ignoring Elián in his turn. At this stage we were all pretty good at it. “The shock ship's EMP blew out the collimators. It will be at least a day before even the basic functions are online.”

“Hmmm,” said Talis. “And the more advanced functions?”

The Abbot glanced toward me, his eyes widening. Xie caught the glance.

Elián, of course, missed it. “How advanced do you need your murders to be? Because I saw Grego die. It didn't look all that hard.”

Talis smiled. “Keep snarking at me, Elián Palnik, and we'll see how hard I can make it.”

That stopped even Elián. Frankly I think the look on Talis's face could have stopped the sea.

“As for the advanced functions,” said the Abbot, “I am not sure. I really know little about the technical aspects of such things.”

“You could look it up,” said Talis, plainly irritated.

The Abbot began, “I cherish—”

“You cherish your limits, yes, I know,” Talis snapped. I did not understand the little squabble, but it had the feeling of an old one. The pair of them suddenly reminded me of my parents. “Never mind. I'll do it.” Then his attention flipped, like that of a cat that has spotted a laser pointer. “Incidentally, does anyone know what happened to my horse?”

“Excuse me,” said Da-Xia. “But, may I ask—what is under discussion here?”

Talis reached out and claimed my hand. “Do you want to tell them, sweetheart? Or shall I?”

In keeping with my don't-encourage-him policy, I said nothing.

But this time silence made no dent in Talis. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close, then flashed a grin at the others. “Greta and I are going to run away together!”

I'd always known that Elián had an explosive temperament, but I'd never before thought it might be a literal statement. Now, though, he looked as if his head might blow off. “What!” he said. “I'm sorry, I mean,
What!
”

“Elián . . .” I wanted to explain. But it was hard to know where to begin.

“Is this why you agreed to let the Cumberlanders go?” the Abbot asked Talis.

“No.” Talis grimaced. “And by ‘no' I mean ‘sort of.' You know, a bit.”

The Abbot's eye icons narrowed, and he began to speak, then gave a rattling, shivering cough instead. A test tone sounded before he could get the words out. “Talis, I would not have her blackmailed into this.”

“It's not blackmail, good Father,” I said. “It's a treaty.”

“Yeah,” said Elián. “I'm going to stick with ‘
What!
' ”

Xie said nothing, but looked at me with black, compelling eyes.

“A treaty,” I said. “Between Greta Gustafsen Stuart, Duchess of Halifax and Crown Princess to the Pan Polar Confederacy, and Michael Talis, Master of the World.”

“My blushes, Greta,” Talis murmured.

“I am blood hostage to the Precepture,” I said. “War has been declared and my life is forfeited thereby. But I choose—” My voice broke across the word “choose.” For so long I had thought that I had no choices.
I choose.
“But I choose not to die,” I said. “I choose to go to the grey room with my eyes open. I choose to let my mind be unspooled slowly, so that it may be copied. I choose upload. I choose to become AI.”

“Greta,” whispered Xie.

“And these are my terms,” I said, closing my eyes. “That the Cumberlanders will not be further punished: no more cities destroyed. And that the Cumberland hostage, Elián Palnik, be spared.”

“In secret,” Talis prompted.

“Spared in secret, to be set free, to change his name and his life, to begin something new.”

I opened my eyes. Elián was staring at me as if I had betrayed him.

“To be as nobody as he can manage,” I said. “To live.”

They were all looking at me now, and profoundly silent.

“Done?” I prompted Talis.

He answered softly, “Done.”

“Witness,” I said.

No one answered.

Talis raised eyebrows at Da-Xia.

“I can't—” Da-Xia was wearing a fresh samue, and was freshly scrubbed—her hands pink with the scrubbing, but without a trace of Grego's blood. She looked down at them. “I can't witness that. . . .”

I stopped myself from reaching for her, though I wanted her strong hand in mine. Wanted it badly. “Da-Xia,” I said. “Please.”

Her eyes locked onto mine. “I witness—” Her voice cracked. “On behalf of the Mountain Glacial States, no party to this conflict, I witness this—” Again, a crack. “This peace. I bind you to it and I—I wish you joy.”

“Your Divinity,” I said, and touched her cheek. She turned her head into my hand and kissed my palm.

“Awww,” said Talis. “That's adorable. Aren't they adorable, everybody?”

Elián was gaping at me. “You can't be serious.”

I let out a huff that was meant to be a laugh but instead sounded as if he'd struck me in the chest. “Didn't I sound serious?”

“You're going to be a robot? You want to be a robot? For me?”

Talis patted his arm. “For you, and for the Greater Louisville Metropolitan Area. Also the preferred term is ‘AI.' ”