The words hit Michael like a shock of cold water— or the sudden presence of powerful kami. He didn't understand what he had just heard, but he felt there was a vast and authoritative mind behind the words.
"The most literal translation," continued the AI, "would be:
"To the Chicxulub or those like them: The Other you fought has become your Self. To resolve that crisis, follow this starship to its birthplace. There you will find a new use has been made of your ancient weapon."
Herat frowned. "This is a Lasa speaking."
Michael felt a sinking feeling. He knew what ancient weapon the Lasa referred to. There had been only one Chicxulub weapon that mattered: the self-reproducing starships that had fanned out across the galaxy sixty-five million years ago. They had visited millions of planets and obliterated any world that threatened to develop sentient life. They had visited Earth; it was their weapon that had caused the extinction of the dinosaurs.
The Chicxulub had wanted the galaxy to themselves. They got it— and were the galaxy's sole inhabitants for millions of years, until they died out.
Michael leaned against the catwalk's railing. He stared out over the busy autotroph amphitheater, not seeing it.
Herat was scowling. "But Jentry's Envy was not intended just for the Chicxulub," he muttered. "It's a gift for everyone or anyone who comes along."
"There's still something we're missing," admitted Michael. The translation that rang most loudly in his mind was the one that began, Daughter of Saturn…
"Saturn is Chronos— god of time," said Herat. "Saturn devoured his children. Like the Chicxulub destroyed all their potential successors?"
After studying the deep, misty well below them for a while, Michael said, "I think we're focusing on the wrong thing here."
"What do you mean?"
"It'll be great if we can figure out exactly what this means," Michael said reluctantly. "But more important right now, is to ask what this message has to do with the murder of Linda Ophir? And who concealed it from us and why?"
"Who?" Herat shrugged. "Only Crisler had the authority to spoof the inscape system. So he did it. That means he probably had the message translated before we arrived on the scene…"
Michael nodded. "And that he probably had Linda killed as well." They had discussed this possibility a number of times since they learned of the inscape spoofing. But the speculation had never led anywhere before.
He hesitated to say where his thoughts were going now. "If this message is a reference to a weapon— or even if Crisler only thinks it is," Michael said, "then maybe we have our motive. Crisler is after the Chicxulub weapon."
The Chixculub had built self-reproducing starships that fanned out across the galaxy, destroying any world that hinted at having or developing sentient life. Humanity had hitherto outlawed self-reproducing machines; there was no human research to which Crisler could turn to develop such a horrible weapon. And that was as it should be.
Herat cursed. "He wants to wipe out the rebels by creating weapons that can reproduce? Michael, that's crazy. How are his machines to distinguish between rebel and loyalist?"
There were hints in the archaeological record that the Chicxulub had been wiped out by their own machines, after inevitable genetic drift and social pressures had rendered them unrecognizable to those machines. The final era of the Chicxulub must have been a nightmare time: All innovation was outlawed, all social and genetic innovation crushed, and everything that could be done had been done. Everything that could be thought had been thought. Everything else was illegal, and lurking in deep space were the soulless executioners who would wipe away any group who tried to change things.
Herat was shaking his head. "Michael, I don't think this message really says that there's a weapon at the Twins. It's something else."
"It doesn't say that the Lasa made a weapon. But the technology behind it might be turned into one. I bet that's what Crisler's thinking."
Herat nodded sharply. "We'd best get this news to the local authorities. We need to have Crisler questioned. Think Rue's people would be up to it?"
"I don't know. Certainly the R.E.'s arm doesn't reach this far—"
"Leave now!"
They both turned. Their guide was walking back along the catwalk.
"Thank you," Michael said in the general direction of the AI as they clattered away after the green man. The swarming dots of the AI made no reply.
Herat told Professor Waldt what the message said, but Michael noticed he didn't mention Linda Ophir or anything else about the Envy. He had odd notions about discretion. Michael was thinking hard about the murder; he barely noticed their surroundings until they were back at the base of the ladder, where Arless waited.
Before the guide could escape back up the ladder, Michael turned to thank him for his help. "One more thing," he said as the green man turned indifferently away. "I know I'm unfamiliar with the autotrophs, but… we saw a lot of creatures and machines in the compound. Which ones were the autotrophs themselves? The tripod things?"
The guide shook his head.
"The bird things?"
The green man shook his head and this time he laughed, a harsh and contemptuous sound.
"They were all around you, but you did not know how to see them," he said.
"I don't understand."
The guide shrugged and began to climb. "You wouldn't," he said. "An autotroph is not a thing. An autotroph is a system."
Michael watched the green form recede up the shaft. He didn't understand— not even remotely. After a few moments Herat put a hand on his shoulder and returned his attention to the world of humanity and politics.
20
THEY HAD ONLY a few more days at Oculus. Jentry's Envy was still travelling at speed and in order to catch her Rue would need to gather her crew and passengers together in a new cargo magsail and ride the beam to rendezvous. If they missed this window, there would not be another one for years; no other cycler followed the Envy's route and without her Erythrion was inaccessible.
Though tired after her meeting, Rue was determined to make the most of her time here. Still, she dawdled as she made her way through the huge and bustling market of Lux. She wore her captain's uniform and felt eyes upon her wherever she went. She hadn't enjoyed the sensation on Treya, where she was more of a curiosity than a celebrity; here she reveled in it.
Most amazing was that she simply didn't need money. Some shopkeepers vied to give her wares for free, simply for the honor of being able to say that she had chosen goods from their establishment. They would have followed her, Max, and Rebecca out of the stores and down the street, were it not that the crew of the Envy was accompanied by a glowering security man from the monastery.
"I just can't believe we're really here," said Rebecca for the third time. Directly overhead, Colossus glowed placidly. All the towers of the city were built to twine like vines upward toward its fixed light. The palette of colors used in the street was complementary to that serene amber radiance; the street was thronged with colorful people, who in the distance faded into a kind of silken dream-landscape of pastels.
Rebecca held up a transparent bag that held a folded, shimmering gown. She was loaded down with such bags, but seemed to be enjoying the extra weight. "Corinna will never wear this!" she said with a grin.
"Because you were hoping she'd let you have it," laughed Rue. They had gifts for everyone: some recently imported R.E. movies for Evan and, in addition to the gown, some new Oculan symphonies for Corinna. There was much more to buy of course and everything they bought here would be worth a hundred times its price back on Erythrion. The most valuable trade items within the halo were, after all, hand-crafted works of art.