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Page 33

He sighed. The trouble was, he was starting to agree with her. “I told you—none of us are entirely free. Even now, I can’t think as I please. I am a product of certain processes, a child of my place and time. And your own branch of the desqusai are the products of your neurochemistry, too. You have your own fixed beliefs, without the help of artificial memes that burrow into your mind. Where do your people draw the boundaries? I do not regret what I am; how can I? But there are aspects of my society that I am starting to question. As to what will ultimately happen to your world—that depends on the Core.”

  “Sirru, what lives in the Core?”

  “Many castes. At the heart of it live the Makers, the ones who created us all.”

  “Will I ever meet them?”

  Sirru, rather shocked, said, “No, of course not. It is not for us to see them.”

  “They must be like gods.”

  “They are what they are.”

  “I’ve had enough of gods,” said Jaya, but Sirru peered into the growing tanks and pretended not to have heard her.

  She added, with a narrow-eyed gaze that he was starting to find familiar, “And these suppressants you’re all given. We’ve got access to all Tokai’s resources now, and a hold over him. What if we could find an antidote—before your project gets fully under way and we’re all meme-washed?”

  “I am beginning to discover what is meant by an infectious idea.”

  “Once a revolutionary, always a revolutionary, Sirru. I’m not built to be part of the establishment. It’s strange: You are one of the most powerful people I have ever met. You come to take over worlds. And yet you and I are in such similar positions.”

  Sirru considered this. “On my world, I suppose the Naturals are closest to your caste.”

  “In that case,” Jaya said thoughtfully, “perhaps I should be talking to the Naturals.”

  THREE days later, Sirru and EsMirhei reached Tokyo. Sirru was concerned that Naran Tokai might let something slip about their earlier interactions, but the industrialist was as slippery as a khaithoi manipulatrix, and said nothing. He did, however, appear tired; he had been obliged to visit India, he explained, for the funeral of an old friend.

  EsMirhei expressed genuine delight at the progress Tokai Pharmaceuticals had made in developing the viral ranges for Tekhein use.

  “And breeding suppressants? You’ve made progress with those?”

  EsMirhei, it seemed, was most concerned that the Tekhein themselves should not suffer the burden of their history any longer than necessary. “Once the population is down to manageable levels—shouldn’t take more than a couple of generations—we can start restructuring the genetic bases, but for now our priority must be to make sure that our new colony is healthy, happy, and fed.” Tokai merely bowed.

  Later, EsMirhei confided, “You know, EsMoyshekhal, your little Receiver didn’t come on-line a moment too soon. I’ll have to release extensive epistemological constructs into the population at large just to calm things down and pave the way for rational thought. Some of the ideas these people have! Where they got them from, I have no idea. The whole colony’s been allowed to get way out of hand. I don’t know what the administrator was thinking of.”

  “I think Ir Yth had her own agenda.”

  “Khaithoi,” EsMirhei said with a sigh and an ironical flutter of delicate fingers. “One simply can’t expect them to take the wider view. A few judicious adjustments, and I’m sure that half of the problems facing this planet today could have been solved generations ago. The hormonal imbalances, for example. Dreadful state of affairs. Worse than Naturals.”

  “At least the Naturals have the advantage of some sort of status. Originally, at least.”

  “Well, precisely. The juvenile males of Tekhei are particularly distressing… Still, we’ll sort all that out, I feel sure. Your man Tokai seems to have matters well in hand. Now. Where should we eat, do you think?”

  WHEN Sirru got back to the depth ship, it was already late, and Jaya was asleep. Sirru went wearily back to his own chamber, feeling weighted by worry. He was stuck here, helpless. Who knew what the khaithoi might be getting up to back home? He sank down on the mat and put his head on his knees. The communications mesh chimed.

  Sirru looked up. The image of the seed was floating before him.

  I have a message for you, the seed informed him. This person is unwilling to contact you via another channel; she says she carries secrets.

  Anarres’ image was manifesting at the far end of the chamber. Sirru nearly ran to embrace her before he realized that she wasn’t really there.

  “Sirru!” she cried. “Finally!”

  “Anarres?” His beloved was wearing a most disreputable dress, he thought. And she appeared to be smudged with something. Dust? Soot? “Where are you?”

  “It’s a long story, and I don’t have much time. I’m at your family’s temenos. Sirru, are you all right?”

  “Yes, but I very nearly wasn’t. What a mess. They’ve lost my First Body, and I have to get back to Rasasatra. I have to press charges against the khaithoi, and they’ve taken out some kind of injunction to delay my getting home. I—”

  “Don’t worry about the khaithoi,” Anarres said, grimly. “You won’t be the only one pressing charges. And if the Core courts call you as a witness, you’ll have to come home, regardless of whether the khaithoi try to stop you.”

  “What do you mean, I’m not the only one pressing charges?”

  Anarres gestured toward the shadows behind her shoulder, and someone bent down to peer through the gleam of the communication mesh.

  “Hello, Sirru,” said IrEthiverris, with a smile.

  4.

  Khaikurriyë, Rasasatran system

  EsRavesh’s stumpy hand traveled up and down Ir Yth’s spine, pinching and probing. Ir Yth stood bristling with offended modesty, but could do nothing: EsRavesh was her superior, and moreover, she was in no position to protest about anything. She was fortunate, EsRavesh hissed into her mind, that her First Body had been permitted reactivation and not been simply flushed from the manifold.

  Might I remind you, Ir Yth quavered, that it was not I who failed at Tekhei, but my Second Body?

  And might I remind you, EsRavesh said, that you are still legally accountable given that you were undertaking regular uploads of information, including your sabotage of a depth ship? If anyone finds out—

  But Second Body was apparently slain! Ir Yth shuddered.

  Your Second Body failed, EsRavesh said. That’s all either of us need to know!

  Where is Sirru EsMoyshekhal now? Ir Yth asked, hoping to distract him.

  On a depth ship, orbiting Tekhei, along with a growing seed that will soon head out to found another world of its own. The Tekhein project is proceeding as planned. People are saying that the desqusai must have something to them after all, if one of their administrators can survive the loss of a depth ship and the threat of death from hostile natives and still manage to deliver a project to deadline. And the ex-administrator of Arakrahali—whom I thought I’d managed to delete—is filing a suit against us for attempted genocide. It seems he has evidence. The situation is entirely lost, due to your own ineptitude. Now, EsRavesh ordered. Come here. I have recently lost a valuable apsara, and I have needs that are not being met.

  5.

  Depth ship, orbit: Earth

  When Sirru went in search of Jaya the next morning, he found her in communion with the ship. She floated in the cradling embrace of one of the nutrient tanks, her pale hair drifting about her like waterweed. She looked very small. Her face was still and remote, and her hands were crossed over her breasts as though defending herself against the world. But as Sirru watched, her grip gradually relaxed until her hands were floating free. He sighed, thinking of what else the khaithoi might do to bring destruction to his people before his compliant got a hearing in the Core. He pictured Ir Yth’s First Body bustling about on Rasasatra, plotting and scheming. Bureaucracy might succeed where Amir Anand had fai
led; paperwork and office politics might yet prove the death of them all. It was a pity, really, that world-changing was such a tedious process.

  Jaya looked so serene, but Sirru doubted that her dreams were peaceful. Once a revolutionary, always a revolutionary, Sirru. Would it really be possible to manufacture a suppressant antidote? Together, could they change the fabric of his society, as they had altered hers: rising up against that vast and ancient empire of bones and genes and blood and flesh? Reaching out, he grasped the cold anchor of Jaya’s hand, feeling the thin band of metal which ringed her finger, and watching the red stone glitter in the watery light. He hoped it would not be too long a wait.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  LIZ WILLIAMS is the daughter of a stage magician and a Gothic novelist, and currently lives in Brighton, England. She received a Ph.D. in philosophy of science from Cambridge and her career since has ranged from reading tarot cards on Brighton pier to teaching in Central Asia. She has had short fiction published in Asimov’s, Interzone, The Third Alternative, and Visionary Tongue, among other publications, and is coeditor of the recent anthology Fabulous Brighton. She is also the current secretary of the Milford UK SF Writers’ Workshop. Empire of Bones is her second novel. She is currently working on her third.

  Don’t miss the next thrilling novel from

  Liz Williams

  THE POISON MASTER

  For generations untold, a population of humans has been held captive on the world of Latent Emanation, virtual prisoners of their alien overlords, the sinister Lords of Night. None of the humans know how they got to this planet, or what their purpose is in being there. They only know that those people chosen by lottery to serve the Lords never come out of the experience entirely sane—if they even come out of it alive. But how can you defeat an enemy you cannot understand, or learn the truth of your origins when it is shrouded in alien mystery?

  Some people endeavor to unlock these mysteries through secret spiritual quests. Latent Emanation is rich in psychotropic substances from the swamps, and while a lucrative industry had developed, some of the inhabitants also take the drugs as a sacrament, trying to gain a knowledge of humanity’s lost origins. But for others, sometimes an unlikely alliance might be the key to unlocking their prison’s door.

  Alivet is a young apothecary whose twin sister has been taken by the Lords. When she is approached by an offworld stranger, Ari Ghairen—a poison master from the even more mysterious world of Hathes—she is given a deal. If she applies her expert knowledge in the mixing of chemicals to help him to defeat the Lords, he will aid her in freeing her sister. But the more Alivet learns about Ghairen and his world, the more she realizes that the deal is not as simple as it seems. Other worlds have a stake in the ultimate fate of the Lords—for reasons she does not yet understand. And soon Alivet finds herself caught in the midst of treacherously shifting alliances in her attempts to free her sister—and her planet—from alien dominion.

  Coming in spring 2003

  EMPIRE OF BONES

  A Bantam Spectra Book / April 2002

  SPECTRA and the portrayal of a boxed “s” are trademarks of Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc.

  Copyright © 2002 by Liz Williams.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  For information address: Bantam Books.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-41554-7

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