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come back to my house?  You can get some sleep."

"Okay," he said.  "But I don't understand "  He stopped

again, as if trying to find words to express all the things he

"didn't understand."

"Nobody understands right now.  Aleph's just not working

right, and we don't know whywe can't get in touch with it."

"Oh, I see."

"Glad you do, because nobody else does."

He stood, then bent over to lift the cat from the log.

Cradling it in his arms, he said, "Okay, I'll go."  He smiled at

her, and the cat lay in his arms and looked at her out of big

orange eyes.

#

Gonzales woke to find his clothes folded, clean and neat, on

a chair next to his bed.  The orange cat lay at his feet; it

raised its head when he got up, then curled up again and went back

to sleep.

He found Lizzie in the kitchen slicing apples and pears and

Cheshire cheese.  "Good morning," she said.  "I'll warm some

croissants, and we can have coffeedo you like steamed milk with

yours?"

Her voice was friendly enough but perfectly devoid of

intimacy.  Its tones were an admonition saying keep your distance.

"Sure," he said.  "That all sounds fine.  But you didn't have to

do this."

"You're a guest.  I'm happy to."  She wouldn't quite meet his

gaze.

>From his bedroom came a loud mew, and the two went in to find

the orange cat, fur erect, confronting a cleaning mouse.  The

mouse, a foot-long shining ovoid about four inches high, moved

across the floor on hard rubber wheels, emitting a gentle hiss as

it scoured the room for organic debris; a flex-tube trailed behind

it to a socket in the wall.  "Kitty kitty," Gonzales said.  The

cat hissed and ran from the room.

When they got to the living room, the front door was closing.

"Will it come back?" Gonzales asked.

"Probably.  Cats come and go as they please, but they often

adopt people, and I think this one's adopted you."

Silence lay between them, and it seemed to Gonzales that

anything either of them said would be awkward or embarrassing.

Perhaps the feeling was just part of the after-effects of a

psychotropic, though he was missing the other usual symptoms.  His

perceptions seemed stable, not swarming and buzzing, and his

emotions didn't have a labile, twitchy quality.  In fact, he felt

more stable and less anxious than he had since he last got into

the egg.  So maybe the twins were right:  if you can't get out of

what's happening, go deeper in.

Still, he didn't know what to say to Lizzie.

"We've got trouble," she said.  She went to the window and

pulled back the navy-blue beta cloth curtains and gestured out

where night and fog still held.  "Mid-afternoon," she said.

"Has everything fallen apart?"

"Not quite everything.  We're doing what we can with a bunch

of semi-autonomous demonsjacked-up expert systems, reallyand

the collective."

"How well is that working?"

"Not all that wellwe can maintain essential functions now,

and that's about it.  Some things we can't handleclimate

control, for instance.  It's very complicated, because everything

is connected to everything else, and so far we've just managed to

fuck it up."

"And what's Traynor up to?  Has he asked for me?"

"Yes, but I've fought him off.  He's the one responsible, you

know."  Her voice was angry.  "He fucking insisted on pulling

everyone out when Chapman died."

"What does Aleph say?"

"Nothing and bloody nothing.  Some of the collective have

taken brief shots at interface, and they've found only unpeopled,

barren landscapes.  We're really in it, Gonzales.  If Aleph's

finished, Halo is, too."

"Jesus."  Of course.  Halo without its indwelling spirit

would be  what?  The fine coordination of its systems would

cease, and disintegration would begin immediately.  "So what are

you going to do?" he asked.

"Glad you're interested, because you're part of it."

"Tell me," he said.

18. Give It All Back

As Diana came out of machine-space, she called out "Stop!"

and heard Charley say, "Why?  Is something wrong?"  But she was

too far away to answer or explain, as she still was when they

removed her cables, and she felt everything important to her

sliding into oblivion.

She had been lying fully awake, staring at the ceiling, for

almost a quarter of an hour when Charley came into the room, Eric

and Toshi beside him, Traynor and Horn behind.

Charley said, "Are you all right?"

"No, I'm not," she said.  "Why did you break the interface?'

Charley and Eric said nothing.  Charley looked to Traynor,

who said, "We had no choice.  You couldn't be reached by normal

means."

"You have killed Jerry," Diana said.  The truth of that

passed through her for the first time, and tears came out of her

eyesshe wiped at her face, but the tears continued to come in a

slow, steady flow.

"He died two days ago," Horn said.

"He was alive minutes ago," Diana said.  "Aleph and the memex

and I were keeping him alive."

"Then he may still be alive now," Toshi said.  He smiled at

Diana.

"What do you mean?" Charley asked.

"Has Aleph come back online?" Toshi asked.

"No," Eric said.

Toshi smiled and said, "Then what do you think it is doing?"

#

HeyMex had been jerked out of machine-space, was suddenly the

memex once again, and it wondered why.  It had sensed no change in

circumstances, nothing that would indicate they had been defeated

in their efforts to keep Jerry alive.  And for the first time in

such transitions, it acknowledged its own regret at leaving the

HeyMex persona behindin the enclosed space of the lake, it had

begun to find itself as a person, not merely an imitation of one.

It explored its immediate environment:  sorted the data

gathered in its absence (Traynor had come up from Earth; not a

good sign, it thought), searched through the dwelling's monitor

tapes, observing Gonzales's sadness and confusion, then watching

as he removed his i.d. bracelet and left.  It wondered what was

wrong with Gonzales (too many possibilities, not enough data); it

very much wanted to talk with him.

It reached out to the city's information utilities and found

them clogged and disorganized.  It placed calls and queries,

seeking some explanation for the chaotic and inexplicable state of

affairs.  Everywhere it searched, it found make-shift arrangements

and minimal function.

But no Aleph, and no explanations.

Then it got a message from Traynor's advisor, signalling an

urgent need for the two of them to communicate.  The memex

replied, saying, "HeyMex wants to talk to Mister Jones."  And it

passed coordinates, data sets, and transformationstaken

together, they composed a meeting-place for the two m-i's in the

vast multi-dimensional information space that surrounded Halo,

somewhere no one could find themno one but Aleph, whom the memex

would have welcomed.

Mister Jones showed up wearing a full body-suit in matte

black interlaced with gold ribbons.  The two sat at a chrome table