32

 

Habidah slept unevenly, as if her demiorganics hadn’t fully come back online. She drifted between nightmare and awareness, staring half-lidded at the monsters lingering in the shadows in the office ceiling. She rolled to the other side of the medical bed. Abruptly, she sat and ordered the lights on.

According to her demiorganics, she’d been out three hours. Lights or no, Niccoluccio still slept deeply. Habidah slipped off her bed and padded to him. His face was slack, a mask of death. She was almost tempted to check to see if he had died. But his chest rose and fell. He was more peaceful than she had ever seen him.

Not that she had seen him often.

She sat on the nearest bed. Breathing or not, he might as well have been dead to her. She still had no cause to say he wasn’t dead. By his own account, his body had been dismembered and a facsimile constructed in its place. Whether this Niccoluccio believed it or not, his old self was dead. This was a memory sent to manipulate her.

And yet, looking at him, she couldn’t convince herself of that. He seemed a changed man, but not a different one. He’d been almost apologetic about coming back, which certainly fit him.

She rested her forehead in her hands. Part of the problem was that she’d never really known him to begin with. There had been times that, in spite of their limited contact, she’d felt closer to him than anyone on this plane. That had been a fraud, too. The only time she’d spoken with the real man had been when he’d physically been here. The other conversations had been with whatever force controlled him now. Likely the only reason he seemed familiar was that she was accustomed to the same liar.

Then again, she hadn’t been the only target of these deceptions. Niccoluccio’s master had sent messages to him as well, impersonating her. Why would it have needed to do that if the old Niccoluccio had never been important?

Her belly rumbled. She wondered if Joao or Kacienta would bother to bring food. She folded her legs and stared at Niccoluccio. By the time morning found them, she was no closer to untangling the knots in her stomach.

Niccoluccio blinked drowsily. Habidah fetched him a glass of water from the lab sink, and showed him to the closet lavatory. When he returned, Habidah said, “You said you were going to save this plane. From us, presumably.” She could think of nothing else that posed so much danger to his world, not even his plague. “How do you mean to do that?”

“It’s not just this plane,” Niccoluccio said. “Your, well… It’s…” He was clearly struggling to explain. He spoke as though he knew everything, but he’d had to put it in words until now. “Your masters threaten many other planes, as well.”

“Masters. You mean the amalgamates.”

“Yes. I don’t know that much about them, but I do know they’re too large for a human imagination to comprehend. They’re far beyond us.”

“Not so different from your master, then,” Habidah said.

“Perhaps not,” Niccoluccio said. Habidah caught two tacit admissions. First, that Niccoluccio’s master was at least on the level of the amalgamates. Second, that it was his master. “The creature that sent me isn’t God. I know that. It lives between the planes.”

“Between the planes” was, as Habidah understood transplanar physics, a nonsense phrase. There was nothing “between” the planes, either physically or mathematically. It was less real than an imaginary number. She glanced at the ceiling. Joao and Kacienta were certainly listening.

“The force that sent me aims to save the planes from each other,” Niccoluccio said. “Some interplanar contact is unavoidable. But when large, powerful groups spread across the cosmos, swallowing plane after plane, they threaten the diversity of the multiverse.”

“The Unity is large, yes, but it still only encompasses a few hundred thousand planes.”

“The amalgamates don’t know about the space between the planes, let alone how to live there. What do you think they’d do if they could?”

Habidah didn’t have to think. “They’d try to invade it.”

“From there, controlling other planes isn’t a matter of force. It’s a matter of will. In that space, there’s no such thing as single planes, but shades of them that all blend together. Your amalgamates would be able to expand themselves unto infinity.”

“I don’t understand. How could anything change an infinite number of planes?”

Niccoluccio chewed his lip as he struggled to find the words. He seemed increasingly uncomfortable, like the words he searched for weren’t his own. “You and I exist on a single plane. We can only affect things here. That space, between the planes, is different. It’s easy enough to change the laws of every plane from there. On infinite planes, if you wanted. If you were intelligent enough, you could do it in very subtle ways, too. Your amalgamates could code copies of themselves into every plane that ever was or will be. And eliminate anything they found uncontrollable.”

Now it was Habidah’s turn to be at a loss for words. These concepts were so far beyond the man she’d known that it was increasingly easy to believe that she was talking to a stranger. “I can’t imagine any single being is capable of that.”

He said, “Managing the multiverse takes an intelligence beyond our capacity to imagine.”

“You might call it divine,” she said.

She’d meant to bait him, but he answered, “Yes.”

“And yet you don’t believe that your master is also your God.”

“I believe that there are shades of being that you and I could never understand.”

Habidah cupped her fingers around her mouth. “Even if all this is true, the amalgamates shouldn’t be of any concern to your master. They don’t have any idea about this space.”

“They will.”

“Your master is worried that, if the amalgamates manage that, they’ll become as powerful as it.”

“No. It isn’t like that. It protects the multiverse from influences that would change or dominate it. Otherwise, it leaves the planes alone.”

“Why?”

“It aims to preserve the multiverse as it is, in the infinite diversity of the planes.”

“At the very least, that’s what it wants you to believe about itself.”

“It could be lying. I can’t pretend that there’s no chance of it.”

“But you don’t believe that it is.”

Niccoluccio said, quietly, “No.”

Habidah leaned toward him. “You would never believe anything else if that’s the way it programmed you.”

Niccoluccio nodded. “You already know the amalgamates have lied to you. You would stop what they’re doing if you could. Given a choice between trusting them and trusting an unknown, which would you choose?”

Her stomach knotted tighter. Rather than answer, she asked, “You said earlier that you had several conversations with ‘me’ before we found each other again. But I only remember having one with you. At least until I got the call to come save you.”

Niccoluccio said, “I know that wasn’t you.”

Habidah only just resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. “I mean – why talk to you so many times, but only once to me?” She’d gone over her demiorganics’ recording of their conversation a dozen times. The more she’d gone over it, the more recalcitrant and withdrawn the false Niccoluccio had seemed. He had wanted to lead her somewhere, but hadn’t wanted to say too much else, either.

He shrugged, and just looked at her. He didn’t know. Habidah had an idea.

Niccoluccio was sweet, but he was naive even for his world. That meant easier to manipulate. Outsiders like her and her team were a lot cagier than a naif like him. Niccoluccio’s master had exposed itself to them as few times as possible, giving them fewer opportunities to note any inconsistencies. It had been, at least for a while, afraid of being caught.

She asked, “How do you intend to stop the amalgamates?”

“I don’t know. I just have a message to deliver.”

“What is it?”

Niccoluccio shrugged. He didn’t seem to know, or he was pretending not to.

Habidah said, “It’s got to be more than words. Words wouldn’t need subterfuge. I’m guessing the reason the amalgamates haven’t beaten down our doors is because your master is keeping this all hidden. It’s sending them false data, faking our regular messages.”

Niccoluccio only looked confused. After a moment watching him, Habidah believed that he didn’t know what she was talking about. She pressed: “If all you needed to do was tell the amalgamates something, you could do that right now, through the cameras.”

“I have to be in their presence, yes.”

“And then what will happen?”

“I have in me… it’s a kind of thought. An idea. I dreamed about it. It was gorgeous. It had symmetry, colors, layers like rivers crashing together. I can still picture it, but I can’t describe it.” He opened his mouth as if to say more, but halted. He seemed even more confused.

The brain scans Habidah had taken last night had found nothing unusual. They could have missed something. Or the technology she was trying to root out was so subtle that it had piggybacked into his brain without significantly disrupting his nervous system. Ways and Means might have scanners sensitive enough to detect it.

Habidah’s skin chilled. Exposing Ways and Means to whatever was inside Niccoluccio was exactly what Niccoluccio had asked for. If Niccoluccio was carrying more than a message, but a weapon – a virus – then he would need some subtle means of introducing it. Like picking it up from a full brain scan.

She asked, “How do you intend to deliver your message?”

“I don’t know. I was never told.”

“By calling up Ways and Means and asking for a trip to orbit?”

“No,” he said, with sudden certainty.

“So if I can put this all together – you need to get to Ways and Means without it knowing anything like what you just said.”

“Your amalgamates are not kind souls. What do you think they would do to me if they knew everything I had just told you?”

“Annihilate you from orbit,” Habidah said. “Or, at the very least, dissect your mind from a very far distance.”

“In either case, my message would go undelivered. I need to be close.”

Habidah waited a long time before speaking again. She didn’t know how to begin asking her next question, or if she wanted to hear the answer. She glanced to the ceiling. If Kacienta and Joao were listening, they’d given no sign.

Her throat almost seized around her next words: “Is this the first time your master has tried to interfere with the Unity?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Niccoluccio said.

Habidah should have felt something right now. Her body and mind had been through so much in the past twelve hours that there wasn’t much left to wring from them. This, though, was different.

This was worse than freefall. This was walking up to the precipice with one foot over the edge. A moment of perfect clarity before the last step.

She said, “Your master can change the laws of physics on the planes. In very subtle ways, you said. It could create threats that don’t follow the rules the rest of us understand, that are impossible to fight or even see clearly. If it wanted to attack the amalgamates, it might start by removing their base of power. Their human population. Nobody might realize it was an attack.”

Niccoluccio looked pale and tired. His eyes were reddened. He looked like Habidah imagined she had in Messina, Genoa, and Marseilles.

He said, “I’m sorry.”

Habidah stood, paced twice before him like she was about to say something, but no words escaped her. Words wouldn’t have done anything.

Finally, she asked, “What do you have to be sorry about any of it for?”

“I know how much suffering it’s caused you and everyone on your planes. I lived through the same.”

“Your master murdered billions of people. With billions more to come.”

“What do you want me to say?” Niccoluccio asked. “Your amalgamates wouldn’t save my world.”

Habidah let her gaze rest on the ceiling. Her hands trembled. She didn’t know why, or what she wanted to do. There was nothing to do. Not to Niccoluccio, at least. “I never tried to justify the amalgamates. I worked against them however I could. I saved you. You sound like you’re defending your master’s actions. Are you?”

Niccoluccio opened his mouth, about to speak, but didn’t answer. Habidah extracted a wisp of satisfaction from that.

The door whisked open. Habidah turned, saw Joao, but she didn’t have time to move before Joao was halfway across the office.

Joao shoved Niccoluccio out of his seat and against the wall, and pinned Niccoluccio there with an arm against his throat. Niccoluccio made no effort to defend himself. Joao said, “I don’t know why you felt that was a good way to get my attention, but you’ve got it.”

“Don’t be this stupid–” Habidah started.

Joao drew his fist back. Habidah stepped forward, grabbed Joao’s arm before he could swing. Joao yanked away, and drove his elbow into her stomach.

Her demiorganics blocked the pain, but all at once she couldn’t breathe. Someone grabbed Habidah’s arms. She hadn’t heard Kacienta enter. Habidah had been robbed of the strength to pull free. An oxygen deprivation warning tone from her demiorganics trilled at the edge of her hearing.

Joao pulled his arm back again. Kacienta yanked Habidah backward. Habidah didn’t see the blows, only heard two smacks and one heavy thump. They sent shots of adrenaline down her arms. Her demiorganics finally overrode her instinctive nerve blocks and forced her to breathe. She sucked air through her nostrils.

This was enough.

Habidah raised her foot, twisted, and stomped on Kacienta’s shin. Kacienta’s demiorganics didn’t blot out the pain in time. She yelped. Habidah spun, pulling Kacienta with her. Kacienta lost her balance and her grip. Habidah shoved her into an examination table.

Habidah took two quick steps and slammed her heel into the back of Joao’s knee. He buckled as easily as if she’d broken the bone, falling into Niccoluccio. Niccoluccio tottered. Habidah shoved Joao sideways. He collapsed. He had exhausted his energy just getting here.

Niccoluccio’s bottom lip was swollen. Blood dribbled from his nostrils. Habidah put her back to him to shield him. Kacienta had just about recovered. Joao wiped a strand of saliva from his chin, breathing hard.

When Joao caught his breath, he asked, “Don’t you understand what he just told you?”

“I’m trying to,” Habidah said.

He leveled a finger at Niccoluccio. “He’s destroying everything back home. He killed my parents. He killed Feliks. He’s killing me. He’s the reason the amalgamates are even doing this to his plane.”

Habidah said, “It’s not him. His master.”

“What’s the difference?”

Kacienta let go of the table. She hobbled to them, keeping her weight off her foot. Habidah remained on guard. Kacienta said, “We can take him right to the amalgamates. They’ll know how to dissect him.”

Habidah said, “You’re not thinking this through.” It sounded awful even to hear. Of course they weren’t, not in a moment like this.

Joao struggled to find the strength to stand. His energy had fled him in that one violent burst. Kacienta asked, “What do you want us to do? Ignore him?”

Habidah shook her head. “No – think. It’s counting on us taking him to the amalgamates. Niccoluccio can’t signal Ways and Means to get picked up. Not without getting blasted apart. We still have a shuttle. We can get him to Ways and Means. That’s why his master sent him back to us.”

Joao glared at Niccoluccio. “Is that right?”

“I don’t know what it wants me to do,” Niccoluccio said. “I was never told.”

Habidah said, “It wouldn’t need to tell you.”

Niccoluccio peeled himself from the wall. His face was flowering bruises, but he seemed only a little shaken. He said, “You keep talking about me like I have no control over my actions.”
Joao said, “You don’t.”

Habidah said, “And you wanted to beat the hell out of him anyway–”

“Stop,” Niccoluccio said. Habidah was so surprised that she did.

Niccoluccio’s fingers trembled as he felt the blood on his lips. “I don’t need defending. I would be as furious. I was when I found out that your amalgamates could have cured our pestilence on a whim. In Sacro Cuore, there were weeks when I don’t think I could have spoken to any of you.”

He looked at each of them in turn. His voice was stuffy from the blood, but he was at least intelligible. “I cannot believe that I have no choice in all of this. I wasn’t selected at random. My master could have sent an automaton in my place if all it wanted to do was destroy you. There’s something it wants me to have a say in.”

Joao said, “You are an automaton and you don’t even know it. The ant carrying poison back to its hive has no idea what it’s being used for.”

“If there’s no way for me to prove that I’m not, then believe as you want.”

Joao at last rose. “It’s not that I want to believe you’re under the power of a genocidal monster,” he said. “It’s that I can’t believe anything else.”

“If I’m an automaton under the thrall of a force so mighty and cunning, then there’s nothing you can do. None of us measure up to it. But…” Niccoluccio paused, drawing it out. Once again, Habidah marveled at how much more eloquent this Niccoluccio was than the one who’d stepped through the gateway. “…If I’m right, and we all have some element of choice left to us, then what we do matters. You might as well act as though the latter is true.”

Joao told Habidah, “You were right. There’s no point to beating him. I doubt there’s anything capable of feeling it left in there.” He glared between her and Niccoluccio, and hobbled out of the room as fast as infirmity allowed him.

Habidah turned to Kacienta and stared, daring her to leave and lock them in again. Kacienta shook her head, muttered, “It doesn’t matter.” She went to Feliks’ laboratory sink, started to wash her face.

Habidah sat hard on the nearest countertop. Niccoluccio gingerly touched the bruises blossoming between his eye and his temple. The bleeding, at least, had stopped. Habidah broke the silence. “You really believe you lived years since the last time you saw us, don’t you?”

“I do, and did.”

Kacienta finished with the sink. She dried her face with her sleeves, gave Niccoluccio a hateful look, and limped out. When Habidah checked, her demiorganics reported that the doors had been left unlocked. She couldn’t quite feel relieved.

Niccoluccio opened his mouth, but Habidah cut him off with a wave of her hand. She didn’t want to hear it any more than the others did. He stared at her for a long moment. Habidah could only meet that stare for a few seconds.

Then she, too, left him.