The best place to pick up the story is probably when Lucius got back from the Combine meeting. Well, he hadn’t actually gone anywhere. He spent the day sitting in a chair, covered with cavitation bubbles. It was a strange sensation for the rest of us. We could hear and see what he was experiencing at the meeting, but it didn’t have a physical component. Physically, we felt as though we were sitting in a chair in a Dalgherdia City hotel room. The most disconcerting thing is that the amount of concentration Lucius needed to telepathically project himself was an enormous distraction from our focus on Tara. We could barely feel her presence as she came in and out of the room. In short, it felt horribly wrong, and was nothing that we really wanted to do ever again, let alone tomorrow.
“How did it go?” asked Tara, as the glowing bubbles dissipated.
“You don’t want to know,” said Lucius. “I need a drink. I almost lost it. How was I to know that the SongLuminant idea of immanent is two billion years?”
Tara paused by the mini-bar. “I don’t know what you take,” she said. “I barely know you, Lucius.”
“Something carbonated,” said Lucius. “I like the fizzies. Any sort of alcohol will do.” He flopped back onto the bed. “The business about the destruction of the universe was all rhetoric, as it turns out. The SongLuminants just wanted to renegotiate wormhole caps. Apparently, too much wormhole creation will weaken the structure of our universe enough to cause it to collapse into the nearest one. That wouldn’t be a good thing.”
Tara sat the tumbler abruptly on the counter. “How are we ever going to convince CenGov and the IndWorlds to economize on wormhole usage?”
“Don’t worry about it. The total usage of humankind is only .89% of the total Nau’gsh allotment. The Floatfish, as the galaxy’s pre-eminent merchant species, are using 96% of their share. They spent six hours arguing that the Nau’gsh shouldn’t get an equal share since we don’t have a use for it. And the Quicknodes argued that since we were such a new species, the Combine couldn’t predict how fast our need would grow. The Quicknodes are really nice. Really helpful. And that’s a problem.” Lucius accepted his drink from Tara, took a huge swallow, and then snorted as the bubbles flooded his nose.
“Why is being helpful a problem?” asked Tara, handing Lucius a cocktail napkin.
“Because they’re a civilization of AIs. Actually, I think they use the term synthetic intelligence. ‘Artificial’ is pejorative.”
“The words civilization and AI are mutually exclusive,” said Tara. “AIs are things.”
“The StoneStolids created them, but they’re now completely independent. And you should see the StoneStolids! Mineral-based life. Such a thing has been theorized, but to actually see it…” Lucius leaned back on the couch. “It’s amazing. Absolutely amazing, the things I saw. But I’m exhausted, and Seth has got to go out again tonight.” He looked up abruptly. “Did you know that Suzanna’s not a natural blonde?”
“That’s a random comment. How do you know, the smell of her hair?”
“Ugh, no, when I’m using her body, I’m limited to her senses. It was nothing so fancy. It was just at one point, when I had to empty her bladder, I noticed…”
“Tomorrow you are using Melvin,” Tara snapped. “No negotiating.”
“You’re angry,” said Lucius, mystified. “Why are you angry?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because a husband I haven’t even screwed has spent the day traipsing around in a faux-blonde bimbo’s body, and now he’s going to change into another husband I haven’t screwed and go out all night playing vampire-hunter and leaving me in a cold and lonely hotel bed.”
“I see your point. But I haven’t got time to get to know you better if we’re going to get to Thomas’ opening tonight.”
“Clearly, the bubbles have damaged your brain. You would rather let Thomas go to his opening than get laid?”
“Is this a trick question? I wasn’t under the impression that I had a choice.”
“I’m taking a bath,” said Tara. “Why don’t you consult with your posse?”
In fact, Lucius had been studiously ignoring us during his sojourn at the Combine. The process of controlling Suzanna’s body was taxing, and there had been more of the usual drama on our end. Owen was depressed over Lugh’s refusal to talk to him, and then Lorcan threatened to slash his leaves over Jamey’s refusal to talk to him. Of course, the fact that Jamey had never spoken to anyone didn’t enter into it, noooooo.
Lucius, said Cillian. Let me spell it out for you. Y-O-U-A-R-E-A-F-U-C-K-I-N-G-M-O-R-O-N.
Lucius, said Whirljack, remember the priorities: Tara’s safety, Tara’s destiny, Tara’s happiness, being with Tara as much as possible.
Now where does negotiating over wormhole usage fall on that continuum? Ari asked. Where does attending the re-opening of Tom O’Bedlam’s fall on that continuum?
I could feel the leaves wilt on Lucius’ branch.
Lucius, said Patrick, Tara is in the bath. It’s probably a bubble bath.
That guy really has a bubble fetish, I said, as he bolted for the bathroom door.
Look who’s talking fetish, said Cillian. The guy who’s hot for the elegant Santriss Silver Birch.
“Tara, I’m so sorry,” Lucius said, kneeling by the side of the hotel tub. The suite was the hotel’s most luxurious, but compared to the size of the bath in Tara’s quarters at Court Emmere, it was like a dollhouse. This had the opportune result of placing her relatively close to him, sunk up to her shoulders in scented foam. “I was created for a specific purpose, but it seems as though that purpose is sometimes at odds with our greater purpose, that of your happiness.”
“No, I was just being a bitch. I’m sorry.”
Lucius was taken aback. Tara had just apologized to him – something which was at the same time gratifying and traumatic. It only intensified his confusion.
Tara leaned towards him, her arm atop the rim of the bath, her face tilted and pressed against the side of her arm. The room was full of steam, and her face was moist; ringlets of hair that had escaped her loose bun were wetly stuck to her forehead and neck. Her lips were parted slightly.
The heat. The bubbles. Lucius felt faint with desire.
“Look, you were just taking care of business – our safety, my destiny, right? I know you’ve got to deal with the fucking SongLuminants. Because they’re a hell of a good time – until they’re not, and then they wipe out your civilization. I haven’t forgotten that humanity is still on trial. I haven’t forgotten that I hate them.”
“I’ll have to tell you about everything, Tara. It’s amazing – and so strange. It’s absurdity, but then again, politics are always an absurdity. An overlong joke that could turn ugly at any second. The Combine members seemed pretty friendly – but when they talk about other species – there’s this culture of having no regard for them whatsoever. And they’re all so unlike anything we’ve ever encountered, I don’t know how to read them. I’m so young, Tara. And the Cu’enashti are such a young species – we evolved so fast. I feel in my heart the way you do about the SongLuminants, and yet, they’ve been around for billions and billions of years. Long experience has made them wary. Do I even have a right to criticize? And they’re treating me like a precocious child.” Lucius sighed, sitting back on his heels. “It’s awful having to work through Suzanna. If I and I could be there in his mothman form, he might be able to communicate directly. I get the sense that for some of the members of the Combine, using a spoken language is lowering themselves.”
“Lucius, sweetheart, I do want to hear all of this, I do. But right now, what I’d like is to fuck you silly. So please take off your clothing and join me in this tiny bath.”
The babble of background voices which was a constant in Lucius’ head suddenly unified into a chorus, a solidified block of united will: LUCIUS, DON’T SCREW THIS UP.
Lucius was possessed of a sincerity verging on stupidity, but even he understood that Tara’s will and the desires of his own body had merged with the force of two colliding galaxies. “Right,” he said, ripping off his shirt.
*****
By the time they had finished with a full suite of sudsy fun and sexual positions, they were running quite late. After Thomas emanated, he sent a brief message to Eloise, telling her to delay the opening by half-an-hour.
He had almost finished dressing when a loud explosion rocked the streets. As Tara ran startled to the window, Thomas flung open his arms and the mothman burnt through his skin and into the sky.
The bomb had been of the same low-profile type that had been used on Eirelantra years before. To understand how impressive this technology is, I have to explain a bit about Cu’enashti senses. Although we possess a human sensorium, we rely mainly on the very acute perceptions of our trees, which are amplified by the presence of nul-energy. Like common trees, we’re most receptive to chemical signals, which our human bodies interpret as scent. Vision is more limited – a tree is most concerned with the amount of light – so while the emanation’s vision is a lot better than a human’s, and has the added advantage of perceiving radiant energy, we rely much more on smell. Our least acute sense is hearing, which is only two to three times as good as a normal human’s. We can sense vibrations rather well, but it’s a matter of interpreting them. Trees don’t have ears. But there is one other difference between Cu’enashti and human sensation – a Cu’enashti perceives time as spherical not linear, which means we can feel between ten seconds and two minutes into the future – much farther if the Chosen is involved. I and I can see a few defining moments concerning Tara which are decades, even centuries into the future. The current theoretical speculation concerns something called quantum entanglement, which I can’t even begin to wrap my leaves around, so I won’t even try. Let’s just say that somehow the low-profile bombs eluded all this, and we didn’t have the faintest idea how this could be done.
Had the opening proceeded in a timely fashion, Thomas would’ve noticed the bomb just in time, and sacrificed himself to protect Tara – as Patrick had when Eirelantra was attacked. But this bomb was larger and dirtier than the other one, which had been designed solely to force I and I to return to Dolparessa. This bomb would have killed or injured dozens of people. As it was, when I and I got to the smoldering complex, the only casualty was Eloise. But she was entirely missing – there was no trace of body or remains anywhere.
The mothman returned to the hotel, emanating as Ailann. “I’d better issue a statement,” he said. He soon supplied a media push explaining that the authorities had been aware of a potential threat, but had not wanted to panic the partygoers over a false alarm, and so had delayed the opening until the all-clear could be given. Unfortunately, the explosive had not been found in time.
“There,” said Ailann. “I think that sounded enough like I meant to do that. Did I mean to do that?” He paused thoughtfully. “I probably did. I and I probably saw that coming and messed with Lucius to buy time. Unfortunately, when I and I sees something like that, we have no way of knowing it’s coming.”
“Poor Eloise,” said Tara, biting her lip. “I’ve known her for decades, ever since I used to work for Tommy, before the Great Reveal.”
“Not coincidental,” said Ailann. “Eloise is RR Labs’ main distributor. I’ll hazard a very well-informed guess that she’s still alive – for now – and I know exactly where she’s being taken.” He swept his arms upward, and the mothman flickered for a moment, folding himself back into the figure of Seth.
“My apologies, my dear. I must flee. Oh, and Ailann said to tell you something, but you already know, don’t you? There’s only one point of origin for a bomb that sophisticated, one designed entirely to fool me.”
Tara nodded. “Earth. Somehow, CenGov is behind all this.”
*****
This time, the meet-up was not common knowledge, but Seth realized that the location must connect to the tunnels. However, it would be suspicious if he just showed up uninvited. Instead, he went into the Burrows.
Again, he had that odd sensation that Tara had followed him. He almost turned to tell her off, to say that she’d better stay safely under guard in the hotel, when he felt the hand upon his shoulder. It was most definitely not Tara’s hand. He turned slowly to face the Minion.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said. “Follow me if you want to see our inner mysteries.”
Seth raised a cynical eyebrow. “Your mysteries, it seems, are readily available. You don’t even know my name.”
Minion laughed. “Lilith’s vision is deeper than eyesight. She knows exactly who to trust.”
“Interesting,” said Seth, bowing. “Lead on.”
Either Lilith was vastly overconfident of her abilities, or somehow our cover had been blown. The fact that Eloise had been targeted would tend to suggest the latter – it was entirely possible that she had been taken as bait.
Seth followed into the tunnel. There was almost no light at all, not that this was an issue from a sensory perspective. It would be far more of a handicap to humans – which was perhaps what Lilith had been counting on. She certainly had been able to exit swiftly enough on the previous occasion. She had quickly slipped out of Seth’s range. Minion was another matter. Minion shouldn’t have been able to elude us, but he had.
Seth followed Minion into a small chamber. It looked to have been a command station for the old mining operations. Lilith was there. “You’re just in time,” she said. “I’m about to drink, or rather absorb, her blood.”
Eloise was sprawled in a chair, unconscious. So far, so good.
*****
Back at the hotel room, Tara received a message. It was from the Cantor.
“Huh,” Tara muttered to herself, “Why the hell would Elma’ashra call me? She’d have to come into the city to do it, and she hates that.”
Tara accepted the message. The holographic form of the Cantor appeared in the middle of the coffee table. “You’d better hear this,” she said. “We were up on Turquoise Head, having a meeting of the Convocation’s executive committee, Miranda, Claris and I…”
“Without Ash?” Tara interrupted.
“Apparently he can’t fit us into his busy schedule. Apparently, he can’t fit much of anything into his busy schedule, because Raoul came charging into the grove. And you’d never guess what Raoul said.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” said Tara, annoyed. “Do you think I’m on Gyre?”
“He said, ‘Has anybody seen my sister?’”
“What?”
“Apparently, Cillian’s sapling has emanated, but nobody else noticed. Least of all Ashtara.” The Cantor sighed. “Not that we expect Cu’enashti to be good parents. That’s a bit of a modern notion. Still, I would’ve thought he’d be more observant.”
“Who is the Chosen? Does anybody know?”
“Raoul thinks that it’s a man who had been seen repeatedly at the Ipsissimal Park. Wait, he wants to talk to you.”
“I made a sketch,” he said. “He was hanging around for months, but he hasn’t been up there lately. It was weird though.” As he spoke, the sketch was transmitted to Tara’s datapad. At first glance, she recognized him.
“This is the stalker. The man who was staring at me at the café.”
“What was weird is that every time he’d go up there, I’d be sure that Kaman was standing behind me. Except I’d turn around and it would be this guy instead.”
“I’m going to message Clive. He’s here for the lab opening, but he can have Roger at RR-2 run a visanalysis. This is going to be trouble, I can tell.”
“To be honest,” said Raoul, “I don’t have a good feeling about the man.”
“And something else. You said ‘your sister’, Raoul. Are you sure? Did you get a look at her?”
“No, but I’m sure. She’s just – I don’t know – feminine. And it would be just like her, wouldn’t it? Cillian wanted her to bond with Cara. Somehow, I knew that wasn’t happening.”
“Cillian’s delusional. Cara doesn’t have a dream in her head that isn’t about serving her god. She’s one of the most practical people I’ve ever met.”
Raoul smiled a little ruefully. “Yeah, she’s honestly not very attractive. At least not to a Cu’enashti.”
Tara and Raoul were absolutely right. I probably have the closest approximation to a human male’s sexual reactions, and if I were human, I’d bed Cara in a heartbeat. But I’m not, and I can see why plump, fussy old Sir Kaman had much more appeal to Raoul, that is, Ashkaman. When a tree falls in love, it falls for a dream.
“I’m worried,” said Tara. “There’s something else –wait – I’m getting messaged by Clive.” She passed her hand over the control, and the holograph flickered, then morphed from studly Raoul into saturnine Rivers – the effect was of an advertisement for male escorts suddenly changing to a screed on scientific equipment. Looks can be deceiving, however. Clive Rivers is perhaps the best shot I know of, and he shoots to kill.
“That was fast. I didn’t expect Roger to find a match so quickly.”
“That AI didn’t do anything, Tara. We’ve got trouble. I know the man in the sketch.”
“You know him? Then it must be trouble.”
“I suppose, in point of fact, I don’t know him at all. I know of him. His name is Esau. Esau St. John.”
“St. John? He’s related to Edom?”
“Edom’s son.”
“Ohhhh, I thought he looked vaguely familiar. But in the photo Edom had, he must’ve been about twelve. You still recognized him?”
“He was around twelve when Edom died. That is, when Esau turned in both of his parents for founding Equal Access to Evolution, an anti-government group. CenGov gave him a medal for it. I tried to find him once.”
“Oh?” Tara’s voice registered her surprise. It wasn’t like Rivers to be sentimental.
“Yes. A part of me wanted revenge for what he had done. And another part is still convinced that he’s my son.”
“Really?” Tara turned away from the holograph briefly. She didn’t want Rivers to see the look on her face. She had been in love with St. John once, and had just about convinced herself that the man she had cared for was an illusion. But every now and then, some particle of St. John would bob to the surface and get lodged in Clive’s icy veneer. “Well, apparently, he’s hooked up with Ash’s daughter.”
“WHAT?”
Tara faced him. “What, you don’t want your darling boy to marry a tree? You’re funny, you know that? Why should you care?”
“It can’t be true, Tara. He’s a complete CenGov loyalist. And…”
“I was afraid of something like that. We’ve got a problem here, and I’m coming to the conclusion that she’s at the root of it. But I never would’ve expected CenGov to be at the bottom of a vampire story.”
“Vampire? Never mind. But Tara, I don’t think that Esau could be involved with her. I’m certain he couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“He’s a telepath.”