Lucky accessed the LE around the Garden of Wonders. A labyrinth of trees and pathways, three-dimensional, with its platforms and tunnels-but also, by virtue of the transient technological magic that operated aboard the great vessels, inverted paths where trees grew upside down.
There were also miniature forests, hidden beneath glass domes and magnified a thousandfold through holographic projection, as well as forests of scents or vegetal sounds, recreating-through creaks and fluttering leaves-the illusion of wooded spaces upon slabs that were, in truth, empty. Other places lay fallow, experiments in what the fruit of chance might one day yield.
The LE devoted to control and instruction were numerous, and Lucky jumped from one to another toward one of three structures-not the most imposing, but the most tormented. Beside the embassy of Antioch-a great steel edifice whose diaphragm-like windows opened or closed according to the building's alignment with the star of Antioch-and beside the headquarters of the Independent League of Xenobiology, an ugly gray concrete rectangle dating from before the Garden, there rose, strange and disturbing, the headquarters of the ESQ.
Upon a basin of liquid metal resembling mercury seemed to float a spherical structure composed of two Gothic domes fused at their middles. Naked, shivering human statues reached out their hands toward winged Xenos standing upon columns encircling the basin. A footbridge, raised at this hour when stars fell upon Alonso, allowed access to it.
Around the sphere, transparent wings let visitors gaze through distorting glass upon altered visions-each stained-glass panel showing a different version of Alonso, a metaphorical recreation of the multitude of parallel worlds.
Lucky fumbled to find a connection to the interior-cameras within a choir of prayer, LE of function within the princely, modern apartments of Tmolos. He descended toward the crypt.
The crypt was accessible through a dimly lit gray corridor. He could even see the door from a camera-a thin black line upon a metal wall. But that was his limit: there were no LE beyond. Or rather, there had to be, since he could see another camera fixed upon the door, but it was on a closed circuit. He searched everywhere, interrogating every LE, in vain. He SCREAMED. But no one understood.
He withdrew his hand and found himself once more in Nemo's server, in the After, after a long, reverse, passive journey-drifting gently from one planet to another.
-"Nemo?"
-"Well, Lucky, we thought you were fried!" exclaimed Euyin through a communicator reaching up to him. "It's been an hour since we heard from you!"
-"You're kidding-an hour? I've been in there two days!"
-"Your intuition's right," said Nemo. "The speed difference between your shell and what we experience is roughly a ratio of thirty hours. But when you interface with an external output-like with us-it synchronizes with reality. It works, apparently. The tech works. That's great news. Euyin, we might actually go out-live with the LE…"
-"Nice trip, buddy?" asked Euyin. "I see you went pretty far."
-"Yeah, it's fine. But I've hit a wall."
He explained the situation to Nemo and Euyin. The latter suggested:
-"No Androids around?"
-"That wouldn't work," said Nemo. "Androids are compatible with a purely neural network, and Lucky here is a shell. Not to mention the governmental ban. But I have an idea."
"There's a solid machine, made of metal and silicon, behind what we call the LE," Nemo explained. "The terms servers and electronics refer to technologies we've mastered for nearly a millennium, and which represent physical components. In the past, information traveled through a wire, an optical fiber, or even radio waves. But recent technology uses a 'light laser'-that is, straight light. A light beam has an interesting property: it can be crossed by another beam without being interrupted. That allowed us to create three-dimensional processors and storage. The famous servers of the After, continents buried beneath the Earth's crust, are spheres that exchange light within their interiors."
"Lucky," Nemo went on, "extend your all-seeing hand toward the light in the corridor where the closed door is. In front of the camera, switch the light off and on, following a code that will enter its circuits. Ask it in return to emit a faint light beam that you'll interpret… do you understand?"
No one, standing before the entrance to the crypt, saw the lights flicker, for they blinked so rapidly that one would barely have perceived a drop in brightness. But yes-and Lucky confirmed it to Nemo-he had been able to extend his hand into the crypt. For an instant, as he advanced thus, freed from interfaces and restricted territories, a strange intuition came over him: that the distant stars he had gazed upon as a child, wandering through the marshes of Booz, mud up to his knees-those stars, lightly flickering in the sky-might themselves be the AI terminals of unfathomable intelligences that had, even then, been trying to communicate with him.
A spiral stone staircase. Images of parallel worlds carved along the walls. On a final door, an almost childish warning read:
"You who profane our Naos without the Master's consent, survival shall be denied to you for all eternity."
And he passed through the door by way of the LE circuits. On the other side, an empty room. Iron rings bolted to the wall, strong enough to moor great ships. Bronze chains, impossibly thick- which held down a poor creature.
Yet the creature stood nearly three meters tall, and Lucky swiveled the camera toward the door to see how they had managed to bring it in. But the door itself was just as large-and round. The Xeno resembled the dragons of old Earth's myths: it had eight limbs, four of which were arms-two used for manipulation, and two others covered with scales that shed like feathers, giving them the appearance of wings. It also had four eyes upon a reptilian head, eyes that held both the wisdom of ages and the vigor of youth.
Lucky switched on the light, and it appeared-ochre and gold-and straightened up.
Lucky took control of a rolling cleaning drone and unfolded, like the neck of a curious animal, a maintenance screen before the Xeno's eyes.
HEL O
Lucky didn't know how to write.
-"Greetings to you, little one," the Xeno replied, with an inhuman voice, almost a breath. "Have you come to set me free?"
It could speak. The drone could only beep, but Lucky quickly drew upon a method from the LE to twist those beeps into words. And thus, a spoken dialogue took shape.
-"Yeah, whatever happens, I'm getting you out of here, don't worry. I don't like humans much, but seeing them hurt Xenos pisses me off."
-"Anger is a poor counselor, little robot-according to the saying of your makers."
Lucky awakened guardian drones-flying machines armed with tasers and other supposedly non-lethal weapons meant to subdue the unruly. Weird church, he thought. He sent them to work on the chains.
-"Xeno, can I ask you a favor?"
-"I was waiting for you to ask."
-"Uh, what?"
-"Tmolos brought me down here and chained me. Oh, I was probably meant to die here-of hunger or mistreatment, or from some mysterious illness that would explain my disappearance to the faithful. When he chained me and left, I slipped my consciousness into the infinity of parallel universes. In some, Tmolos returned on his decision, out of fear or remorse. In others, I was rescued by various agents. In yet others, the chains were poorly set. But to avoid surprises, I try to slide into universes where events unfold discreetly. You're some kind of invisible spirit, aren't you? It aroused my curiosity."
-"Buddy, you really picked a shitty parallel world, you know."
-"Oh, in all worlds, no one is content with their lot. The one who can see into all the others is generally quite happy to be where he is."
-"I've got a question-your other self, in the parallel world you left behind, who is he?"
-"That other is me, as well."
-"He's not pissed that you screwed up his destiny?"
-"He can slide too… we're always sliding, all of us. We are the astonished visitors of our maybes. In one of these worlds, there was you, who came to ask me a favor. I was curious to know what this old carcass of mine could do for an invisible and omniscient spirit."
-"Well…," said the robot-though his voice couldn't modulate, it somehow felt saddened-"there's someone here who's dead. But alive in another world."
-"Oh, that's very likely. But I couldn't bring them back here."
-"Could I talk to them?"
-"What question would you ask?"
The little robot remained silent for a moment, while harassing billions of LE and Nemo to design a plan.
-"Can you bring back answers?" asked Lucky.
-"Yes, I just told you I can."
-"What complexity of information can you bring back, my friends are asking?"
-"I am limitless."
-"That means nothing. If I ask you to memorize a library of a billion billion books in another world, you couldn't do it-and we'd never have time for you to tell me everything."
-"I can do it in one second, little robot. That library exists in an infinity of parallel worlds, where it remains intact. I open the first book, the first sentence, the first word. I remember it. But another me, in another parallel world, remembers the second word. And one second later, we return here, able to deliver the words one by one, with perhaps an infinitesimally small delay between them."
-"Oh wow! But damn, if I get this right, you're some kind of god-you can do anything!"
-"I do not exclude that the Transients indeed draw their infinite knowledge from parallel worlds. But you see, there are limits: I cannot break chains. I cannot foresee the future. I cannot understand betrayal before I've lived it. And if death were to take me by surprise, quickly enough, I wouldn't have time to slide. And as for the favor you wish to ask of me, I cannot travel through time. It must be, in the parallel worlds, at least plausible that the person you seek might have passed through here, this cursed vault. And I believe that among the countless sentient beings of the universe, there are many who will never come here, for the simple reason that their civilizations have vanished-or transcended-in every possible parallel world."
-"Yeah. But the person I'm looking for-there's a chance she might have come to see you. She likes saving people from impossible situations."
-"A good soul, then."
They devised, with the LE, a way to transcribe the information that the Great Survivor would receive: he tapped his claws on the ground. Depending on which claw and the rhythm, it formed a code interpretable by the LE. What might have seemed more complicated than simply speaking to anyone else was, for him, quite simple-for he delegated to thousands of other selves the command to lower each claw, each motion decided, validated, checked, and approved.
The Great Survivor listened attentively to Lucky's description of the Wau. Then he slipped into the billions upon billions of possible universes. This unimaginable journey-also delegated to other versions of himself, each gliding in turn-brought him into every reality in which he was saved by a human in armor. Eventually, he chose one among those that recurred most frequently, thus emerging from the most probable possibilities.
The Wau had forced open the door with his AIs and torn off the Xeno's chains.
-"Do you understand me?" he had asked. "Are you all right?"
-"I was expecting you," replied the Great Survivor.
-"You can see the future too?"
-"Only the perhaps. But precisely for that reason, I am here only for you."
The Wau stepped back. His voice was eternally neutral, but within its rhythm lingered a trace of amusement.
-"Some might think that it is I who am here for you. I've taken care of Tmolos-he'll stand trial. As for you, HS will offer you the best treatment in reparation, if you're willing to accept it."
-"You are the Wau, correct?" the Xeno replied, ignoring the offer.
-"Correct."
-"And within the Wau, there is a human female called Cassandre?"
This time, the Wau's response dropped with glacial precision.
-"Who knows?"
-"Stranger, benefactor, good soul-I shall yield my consciousness to an entity that seems to know you, one who comes from a parallel world, much like this one, but where that entity and you have different destinies. It will no longer be I who speaks to you, but him."
The Xeno straightened further. He towered over the Wau-himself a giant-by a full meter.
-"Cassandre?"
-"Who are you?"
-"Uh… Lucky?"
-"Lucky from Trust?"
-"Yeah."
-"When the Xeno speaks of a parallel world, does he mean the After? How are you linked to him?"
-"No, I'm really in a parallel world-right here. In this world, I'm in front of him, in this stupid crypt, and I'm the one saving him. I'm talking to him right now, and he's relaying our conversation by gliding from one world to another."
-"Fascinating. So in your world there's no Aleph, and no ban on Androids?"
-"There is, but… listen, long story, no time-I'm not here for that. In my world, you fought the Aleph, and it blew a huge hole through your chest-the kind you don't survive."
-"Where? In the Desert Stadium?"
-"A rotten planet called Camerone. Ring any bells?"
-"I fought biological drones on the Alké, in orbit around that planet-but Tohil triggered a Drift, and we escaped in time."
-"Yeah, well, not in my world. So what are you doing there?"
-"I'm trying to unite the Xeno peoples with Gorylkin. On Polydore, the Xenos of… well, of the one you now inhabit told me the Great Survivor was in danger. I have much to do… I won't be able to follow you into your world, if that's why you're contacting me. My place is here."
-"Yeah, it's a real mess. But from the Great Survivor's point of view, it's all the same world. Like each world is a page in a book. You read the book, not the page. Damn, I think I get it! I think it's the Great Survivor who's helping me. Anyway-even if you've got a gaping hole in your chest-we're going to save you."
-"Really? That seems rather unlikely."
-"The old lady told me we can reboot you. But your brain's empty. I need a copy of your psyche."
-"Who is 'the old lady'?"
-"Oh, come on… uh, I'm looking for… Dian. She lives on Earth, not far from Munich."
-"Dian, is it? Fascinating, truly. All right, I'm beginning to believe you. Why are you reaching out to me?"
-"Cassandre… I told you-my destiny is bound to yours."
The Wau stepped back again, his deep voice reverberating.
-"And I have already answered you… You seek Cassandre to fulfill a sublime destiny, but you're taking the journey from the wrong end. Become the one who will have that sublime destiny, and you will find your Cassandre. As for me-you're mistaken. I am not the Cassandre you seek. Nor Stella Nori, whom you met. I am the Wau, no more, no less. Forget this notion. You've already lost too much time with it."
For an instant, the Xeno seemed to grow agitated, his remaining chains scraping restlessly against the floor. Then he appeared to yield to his own passion and bowed lower than the Wau, his four eyes pleading. He began with a "I…" and, as though Lucky were inside the Xeno's psyche, he hesitated before continuing.
-"I'm not the smartest person in the world. Nor the one who's acted best. And it's a heavy thing to carry-stupidity, and mistakes-especially when you find yourself standing before you, the perfect being, and you dare to ask her for something. I've thought about you so much, all these years, that now you're inside me, Cassandre.
Sometimes I imagine you just saying one word, and my life could change-that everything I've done wrong could be forgotten, and that I could become good, respectable, loved.
Since I was forced to leave for the After, I've been on a different path. I'm trying. Even if your voice is that of the Wau, I can read in your words who you are.
You are the one I've been looking for.
You know, I've taken the longest, hardest road in the universe to find you again. From the After, which now has all the makings of hell, I climbed back through the LE of the entire universe-I even went where the LE are no longer connected, using light itself-and I found a Xeno capable of slipping between other universes to find one where you're still alive. That's everything I've done. And if you manage to escape, to reach a place beyond the universe, I'll still find you. And I know it's you-not because I can read minds, or because the Xeno has some magical search engine. I know it by the number of words in each of your sentences, by the angle of your shoulders and your fingers; I know it because no one else in the entire universe, in all the past and future, will ever have paid as much attention to you as I have. I could have found you if you'd hidden in a world farther away than the farthest of universes, in a time yet to come or long past, where time itself doesn't yet exist-or no longer does. I could have found a book written by you among a hundred thousand others by recognizing a single word. I am the keeper of what you are.
And you know what? I never asked for it. I suffered it. I have no admiration for the Wau. I'd rather be free of the burden of believing that you're the most important thing in my whole life. I don't even know why-but that's how it is. I'm not asking you to love me, or to kiss me. I'm not even asking you to acknowledge me or to think well of me. I want a copy of your psyche because without you, the world is incomplete-my world is incomplete. It is for me, yes, but also for all the others right now who are in distress and whom you could help.
They cry without knowing the name of what they're missing-but I know the name, and that name is yours."
The Wau was shaken by a faint tremor. Was he laughing? In any case, far too long a silence followed for it to have been processed by his support AIs alone. At last he spoke, each word cleanly detached:
-"You ask for a copy. I trust you will take care of it. How shall we proceed?"
It "only" required exporting a triple AI emulating the brain, the metabolism, and the emotions-tightly packed-of the armor's bearer. A technologically daunting operation under ordinary circumstances, but simple here, since Cassandre had done it recently in the After. Then the data were compressed and encoded in base 33.
She displayed them on the drone's screen: strings of numbers ranging from 0 to 9, then from A to W. A torrent of data scrolled by at blinding speed, memorized and relayed, digit by digit, by the billions upon billions of sliding copies across the parallel worlds traversed by the Great Survivor, then restored to Lucky's world-on each of the four clawed fingers of the Xeno's eight limbs.
When the last number had been transmitted, Lucky abruptly withdrew-to extend his hand, at the speed of light, toward Munich.
The Great Survivor was satisfied with the experiment and contemplated long meditations on its possibilities: to transmit another's mind through sliding.
And in the other reality, he simply said to the Wau: -"I'm sorry-he just left without saying goodbye."
The Wau nodded, almost melancholically, before departing toward his own battles.