‘But what is that essential something?’ Mika asked.
‘Indeed,’ was Jerusalem’s only reply.
The gabbleduck was mountainous: a great pyramid of flesh squatting in the flute grasses, its multiple forearms folded across its chest, its bill wavering up and down as if it was either nodding an affirmative or nodding off to sleep. It regarded Blegg with its tiara of emerald eyes ranged below the dome of its head.
‘Why have you chosen such a bizarre shape for yourself?’ Blegg asked. ‘Obviously it is something you’ve ransacked from the mind of the AI here, but I fail to see the purpose.’
‘Jain, Csorians, and Atheter,’ said the gabbleduck. ‘You humans have much to say about all three but know so little.’
‘Then tell me,’ Blegg suggested.
‘The Jain became extinct, five million years ago. Currently you believe it was their own technology that drove them to extinction. We believed this, too, though in our time, two million years after the Jain, there was more evidence available than there is to you now.’
‘And?’
‘Jain technology is a weapon.’
‘So we believe.’
‘Who did they use it against?’
‘It was made to destroy civilizations,’ said Blegg, ‘but that was a rhetorical question which I presume you’ll answer yourself.’
‘Who is always the greatest enemy? You fought a war with the Prador, but that could almost be classed as anomalous. The greatest enemy is nearly always those you can understand enough to hate.’
‘I see,’ said Blegg. ‘An internecine war.’
‘It lasted for half a million years. But why a weapon designed to destroy civilizations?’
‘I don’t know. Why don’t you give me a clue?’
‘Despair,’ said the gabbleduck. ‘Hatred of the futility of intelligent life and technical civilizations, all of them, forever.’
‘Despair and arrogance,’ suggested Blegg.
The gabbleduck shrugged. ‘Just so.’
‘What happened to you, then?’
The gabbleduck turned its head and gazed out over the ersatz landscape. ‘The Csorians, like these Makers, thought they understood the technology, increasingly depended upon it, then were ultimately destroyed by it.’
‘You didn’t answer my question.’ This virtuality was very realistic, and Blegg found himself becoming fed up with standing, so he sat like some acolyte on the ground before the monstrous being.
‘We nearly did the same. We lost planet after planet to it, and it subsumed and killed billions. We exterminated billions on the worlds we sterilized.’
Blegg decided he wanted to get straight to the point. ‘Was it a Pyrrhic victory in the end? Your civilization no longer exists, but then few Jain nodes exist either. The ones we are having trouble with now are those brought here by the Maker.’
That chuckle again. The gabbleduck stretched out one limb and opened out a hand composed of talons like black bananas. ‘You know that Jain technology is nanotechnology, but study it long enough and you find that its foundations go deeper. All matter is merely knotted space and time in the end, adhering to certain rules soon learnt by any sufficiently advanced species.’ Floating inside that claw appeared some construct of light. ‘When you organize the underlying structure of matter, the difference is always noticeable when observed from the right place.’ The creature turned to peer at him. ‘There is a price.’
‘Name it.’
‘You return us to the surface of the place you call Masada—home of the gabbleducks.’
Blegg considered that. The plan had been to keep the artefact aboard the Hourne so it could quickly be moved to different locations in the event of war. Such a repository of valuable information must be protected. However, the survival of the Polity might depend on being able to locate Jain nodes. He did not need to confer. He replied, ‘It will be done. You have my word, and that is good.’
‘I know—it’s the word of a ruler,’ the gabbleduck replied cryptically.
The construct drifted down from its claw, turning as it came. Blegg kept utterly still as it hovered before him, and as it drifted towards his forehead and penetrated. ‘The Jain used U-space, yet their destructive technology does not. It was made by their AIs, which were based on the Jain themselves as yours are on you, before those AIs transcended their erstwhile masters and left them to kill each other. Why they left the U-space option out is a question best addressed to those same AIs, wherever they might be.’
It was a pattern in his mind, seven, eight dimensionaclass="underline" something beyond what he could encompass, but at least recognizable as a U-space signature. With a sudden flush of excitement Blegg realized what he saw: a Jain node as viewed via underspace.
The gabbleduck peered down at him. ‘This is what you came for?’
‘It is.’
It nodded slowly. ‘You never get them all—there’re always some overlooked, to start the process all over again. There is only one way to win.’
‘And what is that?’ Blegg asked, wondering what the quickest way out of this realm might be.
‘You cease to be what the Jain hated.’
Blegg turned away.
Never.
Was that what the Atheter did? Hatred of the futility of intelligent life and technical civilizations…
Were the gabbleducks all that remained of the Atheter when they made their fateful decision to cease to be the intelligent citizens of a technical civilization? Blegg doubted that, else why did this thing, this Atheter AI, want to be taken to where remained those animalistic descendants, the gabbleducks? It was all a mystery that would have to wait for another time, since Blegg had more pressing concerns. He turned away, felt the ground sliding out from underneath him, and saw a black wall descend.
Hiatus.
Blegg stepped out of the VR booth, blinked and looked around him. The staff on the observation deck peered at him warily. Gazing through the screens, he observed that the artefact seemed to have settled back to its previous state.
‘Hourne,’ he said, ‘are you back?’
The AI replied, ‘The artefact has disconnected itself from me, but may reconnect at any time.’
‘Do you have that U-space signature?’
‘I do—it was transmitted to me at the same time as you received it in VR.’
‘You saw all that, then?’
‘I did.’
‘Interesting… about the gabbleducks. Do you believe it?’
‘If it is not actually the truth, it seems a strange and pointless lie to tell.’
‘There was not much resistance, then,’ Atheter observed.
‘Sporadic,’ Blegg replied. ‘Mostly crushed by human fighters bright enough to realize the AI rulers were better at governing than any previous human rulers.’
He turned to another card, saw them laid out all around him like gravestones.
Blegg ran down the seemingly endless corridor, while klaxons shrieked and warning lights flashed. Grieg told him the terrorists were ex Matthew Corporation employees who obtained the planar explosives from a mercenary group who decided on retirement under the new regime and were now selling off their assets. That had been a relief, since from the beginning of the investigation ECS intelligence believed them to have obtained fissile materials. But planar explosives could still do plenty of damage if detonated somewhere critical.
‘Left turn at the end here, second door on your left,’ Earth Central informed him.