"Surprise: you have not been to Earth before?"
"I have been to this system, but not to Earth itself." Ennui glanced at her sidelong. "Can you assure us privacy?"
"Affirmation." Shee extended a local interference field that enclosed the three of them. They could not be overheard verbally, or spied on electronically. Such a precaution was elementary, when dealing with a technologically primitive culture. "We are private."
"I know why Havoc has placed us together. He guards his mind, but I have known him very well for some time, and could fathom most of his thoughts even without telepathy."
Shee was wary. "Is this something I need to know? Remember my identity. I am not your friend."
"You will know it soon enough regardless. Because it concerns me, I prefer to acquaint you with it myself. Havoc knew I would do this; he checked with Voila and Idyll to verify the relevant near and intermediate future paths."
"Clarification. What is the duration of these paths? I can perceive only the far future, which commences a month hence, and not well, as it is not my specialty."
"The near future is one second to one hour," Ennui said. "For most Glamors, it is one second to five minutes; only Voila can see the full hour. Idyll sees the intermediate future, one hour to one month." She glanced down. "Iolo, as an ifrit but not a Glamor, is specially enabled and trained to see the near future paths, as you know. These are approximate parameters; I understand situations vary, as do paths, with some too complicated to fathom far, and of course there are the nexii."
"Nexii," Shee repeated, recognizing a plural that was not in her data bank, evidently a colloquialism. "This is of interest to me, as I have been called a nexus. I understand this to mean that the paths associated with me are more important than most others, so warrant more attention."
"Confirmation. In Havoc's mind, you are one of the five most critical nexii. In our vernacular, a hot potato."
"Question?"
"Something that is too hot to readily handle with bare hands, so must be treated most carefully. This seems to be independent of your role as his mistress. For him, sex is pleasure, while the nexus is business."
"But why? My purpose is straightforward: to entertain him so that he will keep me close, and perhaps heed my petition respecting his daughter. There is no subtlety."
"I was mystified too, until I figured it out. Are you aware of the derivation of Havoc's name?"
"I studied him. He wrought havoc among those who opposed him. He is dangerous to try to thwart."
"The machines are trying to thwart him."
"Reversaclass="underline" he is trying to thwart the machines. They sent me also as warning: I represent the level of technology he opposes. He can't seriously threaten them. Only the fact that he has influence that could help the machines acquire something they very much want, the willing service of Voila, causes them to even consider sparing humanity. He will be best advised to accept the deal they proffer. The survival of your culture depends on it."
"The machines underestimate Havoc."
"The machines underestimate nothing. They are methodical and wield overwhelming force. No culture in the galaxy has balked them more than briefly, and with every conquest they grow stronger. To apply an Earth-local analogy: a flea might as well try to halt a steamroller. It will be crushed."
"They have not before encountered Havoc."
"I love Havoc! It is crafted love, but it is genuine. I accept him utterly. But against the machines, he is a flea."
"You are a machine. You have to believe that. But Havoc has a saying: when the game is rigged, change the game. He is changing it."
"Doubt."
"This is where you come in. And me. And the reason for our association. Havoc wants me to carry your ikon."
"Question?"
"When a Glamor forms, there is a main part and a lesser part. The lesser part is the ikon. It lies in the home Chroma and gathers and transmits magic power to the Glamor. That is why the Glamor can have magic anywhere, independent of Chroma. For several years I carried Havoc's ikon."
"I have no ikon. I am a machine. There is no living tissue in me. I am an inanimate construct."
"You are not alive, but you are animate."
"A quibble over terminology."
"Are you conscious?" Ennui asked.
"Affirmation."
"Feeling?"
"Affirmation."
"Do you possess instincts, such as of survival?"
"Affirmation. But I am dead substance."
"The distinction between a living person and what you are seems immaterial."
Shee shrugged. "Accepting it as needless, what is your point?"
"Havoc means to make you a Glamor."
"Preposterous! Assuming it is possible, which I doubt, why?"
"What would a machine Glamor do to the configuration of the war between the machines and living cultures?"
Shee had to pause for consideration. The concept went beyond her ability to calculate, but was significant. "It would change the parameters."
"It would change the game," Ennui agreed.
Shee wrestled with the astonishing concept. "The game," she agreed reluctantly "Not necessarily the outcome."
"A machine Glamor on the side of life."
"It is beyond my capacity to fathom."
"Therefore probably also beyond the ability of the machine culture to fathom. It is like the ploy Havoc devised to conquer Earth: seeding its volcanoes with magic. Earthers did not believe in magic, so were unable to handle this. The machines do not understand Glamors. A robot Glamor would be virtually incomprehensible to them."
Shee's mind was uncomfortably disturbed. As a machine, she could not believe such a thing was possible. "A new game," she repeated. "If it could be done, then yes, the machines have underestimated Havoc. But it would be an unconscionably dangerous ploy for the human culture. My loyalty is to Havoc, but the machines can reclaim me at any time."
"Could they reclaim a Glamor robot? You are type 2.5 technology; as a Glamor, might you not be 2.75, beyond their capacity to control?"
"I do not know," Shee said. "The concept is overloading my circuits."
"Then we will address a simpler and more personal consequence. If you were to turn Glamor, you would divest an ikon. If I hold that ikon, I will control you to a significant extent. You would not be able to touch that ikon, literally, and if I removed it from its home chroma, your power would fade. That is why Havoc wants me to have it: I would control the key nexus."
"That is personal," Shee agreed. "I can appreciate why you would want to do it."
"I do not want to do it."
"Question?"
"You should be controlled, but I do not want to hold your ikon."
"Confusion."
"Ikons have effects on their bearers. When I held Havoc's ikon, I became physically young, healthy, shapely, winning, and had a high libido. It is the ikon's way of protecting itself, and thus its Glamor. Ikon holders are nice to be around, especially female ones in the company of males. The ikons are almost impossible to set aside. I do not want to go through that again."
"But what you describe—isn't this what most women desire? To be perpetually young and sexually appealing?"
"I am not most women. I am old and settled, and do not wish to become something I am not. Especially not a young siren. I already love Havoc; I would become another of his incidental mistresses. That is not my role in life."
"Is it possible that Havoc is also taken with you, and wants this as a way to make you amenable? You are after all his closest associate, the one he trusts most."
"Negation. He values me in my present capacity. When I carried his ikon I became openly hot for him, but he evaded the issue, for which I am duly grateful now. He wants me to have the ikon because I am the one he would most trust with it; he has not considered its supplementary effects, which he does not consider to be a liability."