Overthrowing Heaven-ARC Page 10

  I found a spot where the branches of two shrubs touched and pushed my way gently through them; I didn't want to do any more damage than was absolutely necessary. The branches slapped and scratched at my shirt as I passed, but after a meter and a half of unpleasant and slow progress, I stepped into a clear area. I glanced back; Pri was staring nervously first at me and then alternately at the ends of the path.

  I smiled at her until she forced a smile in return. If we weren't being watched, I was wasting time, but unless Shurkan intelligence was completely wrong, the crew running this place was monitoring every square meter of it. I was about to attract some attention I might one day regret having, but it was the only way I knew to gather data on their response time, information that could prove valuable later.

  "I'll get you that flower," I said. "How hard can it be?"

  Chapter 12

  I turned around to make my way toward the purple-flowered bush and found myself face to face with the biggest spider I've ever seen. It perched on a wide silvery web that hung from a thick thread dangling from a branch four meters over my head. The beast was at least thirty centimeters across. A dark brown the shade of the trunk of the tree from which it hung, the creature would be very hard to spot when it was crawling along the wood. There's no chance I would have missed it when I entered the clearing, and I didn't believe it could possibly have spun a web that big in the few seconds I was speaking to Pri, so the web must have traveled with it. Though it's certainly possible this was a type of spider I'd never seen, one that rode its web down from tree limbs, a more likely answer was that it was an active warning unit, a tool for scaring off intruders and maybe even buying time for security to arrive. I stared closer at the creature. All of its legs were perfectly symmetrical, almost metallic, and lacked the hairy look typical of spiders. I touched its head and felt cool metal. What we'd seen so far on the island suggested a preference for bioengineering, but this was proof their engineers could do first-class mech work as well.

  When I pulled back my finger, the spider spoke—or, to be accurate, words came from it.

  "You have entered an unsafe and off-limits area," said a deep, rich voice, "so please return to the path and resume your tour."

  "Perhaps you should do as it says," Pri said. Her expression made clear her desire for me to stop, but I wanted all the data I could gather. I'd already learned that animal-based monitors were part of their defense arsenal.

  Without turning around, I said, "Nonsense. I'm not hurting anything, and this overgrown bug is only here to scare me. I'm getting you that flower. I'll be back in a minute."

  I stepped around the spider, took another step forward, and paused as if reorienting myself toward the bush with the purple flowers. Despite what I'd said about the spider, I felt so exposed my spine tingled. I forced myself not to look back. If the metal creature was going to inject me with something, to stay in character I had to let it do so, then trust the nanomachines to clear the toxin from my system as quickly as they could.

  I lifted my right leg to take another step, and from below I heard, "My good sir, I'd appreciate it if you didn't force me to protect myself."

  I'd been so focused on the spider that I hadn't checked the ground before I moved. Stretched out in front of me was a three-meter-long snake, a full meter of which rose to an almost vertical position as I watched. It swayed slightly from side to side as its eyes focused on me and its tongue flicked in and out of its mouth. Diamond-shaped sections of blue and purple alternated along and around a body that was as thick as my upper arm and reflected the dappled light like polished metal. This was not a subtle snake, nor would it blend with any forest I've ever seen. The creature opened its mouth to reveal a bank of what one might mistake as glands but which I was quite sure were dart launchers, one pair each on the right and left of its upper and lower jaws. If it or its handlers wanted me down, I'd be down; there was no way I could move fast enough to avoid four pairs of darts coming from slightly different directions.

  "Might I suggest, sir," the snake said, "that you adopt the spider's recommendation as your course of action and proceed post haste back to your lovely companion?"

  I'd been off the path for several minutes, and so far the island's security team had relied on animal sentries. With preparation, I could deal with those. To push my luck further, I'd have to break character. I decided to stick with being a fool out to impress his date and not go any farther. I held up my hands in surrender.

  "Sorry," I said. "I didn't think it would be such a big issue." I paused and bent forward, as if I were talking to a very small camera, which of course I probably was. "She and I," I whispered, "we're not getting along so well right now. I thought if I showed her an extra special time, she might stop being so mad." I straightened and said to myself, "Why am I talking to a fake snake?"

  I turned and faced Pri. "Sorry, dear," I said in a louder voice, "but—"

  The snake cut me off. "Sir, if I might be of assistance," it said.

  My wallet vibrated at the same time. I held up my hand to Pri and looked again at the snake. Its head swiveled toward the bush with the purple flower and then back to me. It leaned forward and almost touched my wallet. I opened it and found a pending charge.

  "For the flowers, sir," the snake said, its voice low enough that Pri would have trouble hearing it, "if you'd still like to impress your companion."

  I had to admire the island's staff. Turning a possible security breach into a profit opportunity was a beautiful bit of business. I had to go for it. I thumbed the wallet my approval.

  The snake's head swiveled again toward the bush. A meter-high white rabbit in a bright purple tuxedo walked on its hind legs toward me, a bouquet of a dozen of the blossoms clutched in its front paws; the tux and the flowers matched flawlessly. When it was even with the snake, it held out the bouquet to me.

  As I took them, I studied the rabbit's eyes. I couldn't be certain without touching the animal, but I figured it to be another mech creation, though it could also be a hybrid. "Thanks," I said.

  "It is our pleasure, sir," the snake said. "Now, perhaps we can all get on our way."

  "Of course, of course," I said. I turned around and held the flowers aloft. "Look what I got for you!" I said to Pri. I kept them above my head as I made my way back through the shrubs and onto the path. When I reached Pri, I glanced back in time to see the snake and the rabbit disappear into the bushes.

  I handed the bouquet to Pri and smiled. "As I promised."

  "I didn't want—"

  I interrupted her. "I know, I know," I said. I stared into her eyes, trying my best to remind her of her role. "You didn't want me spending more money, but they are beautiful, aren't they?"

  She took the gift and smiled. I couldn't tell if her expression was genuine or forced. As she sniffed the flowers I made a mental note to have Lobo scan them for bugs—the surveillance kind—as well as possible biotracers.

  "Yes," Pri said, "they are. And now, can we go see some of the attractions?"

  I didn't want to draw any more security attention, so touring a chunk of the island was about all I could usefully do. Their security was tight enough that I expected them to check me out on the off chance I was a criminal. Fortunately, the data Lobo was feeding local systems about me would stand up to at least a light inspection. I also couldn't be the first man they'd seen behave stupidly to impress a woman, so we should be safe enough.

  "Sure," I said. They were certainly monitoring us, so I stayed in character. I slumped my shoulders like a man put down by Pri's lack of enthusiasm, then made an effort to stand up straight and smile. "Let's go see those amazing land animals you've told me so much about."

  Chapter 13

  We strolled along the path through the remainder of this section of the forest and emerged into a field of low grass that ran right up to a rock wall pocked with caves. A pack of enormous three-headed black dogs strutted out to greet us. With angry red eyes, thick yellow teeth, jaws that looked like the
y could crush my leg in a second, and jet black fur, the animals triggered a primitive flight instinct that struck me below conscious thought.

  "Let's keep moving," Pri said.

  My gut reaction was to agree with her and walk quickly away from this exhibit, but I've never liked surrendering to irrational fears. "No," I said. "Let's take a look at them."

  The expression she gave me made it clear what she thought of my idea.

  "Really," I said. "There's no way the management would let animals this dangerous run free. They can't afford tourist injuries." I stepped a few meters off the path into the ankle-high grass, determined to spot the barrier that protected us from the dogs. "Something we can't see must be keeping these beasts in check." I turned back to her and nodded. "We're fine."

  Pri's eyes widened. "Really?" she said.

  "Absolutely."

  She pointed toward the animals.

  "I hope you're right," she said.

  I turned to see half a dozen of the huge creatures sprinting toward us, all eighteen heads drooling and barking madly. I maintained my confidence at first, even as Pri grabbed my hand and tried to pull me toward her. "No worries," I said.

  I lost faith when the dogs skidded to a halt in front of us, one of them bumping its shoulder into my stomach. They were larger up close than they'd appeared from a distance.

  I backed away a step, drew even with Pri, and then took another step backward.

  The dogs followed us. Two more knocked against my body, and one dog's head butted my free hand.

  Damn; I'd done it. I'd surrendered to reflex instead of thinking.

  I stopped, reached down, and petted the center head of the dog nearest my left hand. All three of its heads instantly stopped barking and began making low, whimpering sounds. After a few seconds of petting, the huge animal—it had to weigh more than I did, possibly much more—sank to the ground and rolled over, its legs in the air. I scratched its belly and smiled.

  "I told you," I said. "We're fine. They're just big love sponges."

  Pri slapped the back of my head. "Don't tell me you weren't scared."

  I stopped petting the dog and rubbed where Pri had hit me. "Okay, I was, but without cause. Almost everything I said was right: There's no way these people will let a dangerous animal near us or any other visitors." All three of the heads of the dog I'd been petting began licking me, and another head smacked against my free hand. "I was just wrong about these particular creatures being a problem."

  I resumed petting the one animal and with my other hand started scratching between the ears of one of the heads of another.

  Pri did the same.

  Periodically, one dog would knock another out of the way and take its turn being petted, but the conflict never escalated beyond body blocking and the occasional snapping of jaws. I used the time to scan the grounds around us with regular vision and then in IR. If we were lucky, up close I'd be able to spot something Lobo couldn't read from far overhead. Perhaps the staff hatches—assuming there were any around us, of course—would show hints of metal or read a little bit warmer or cooler than the rest of the field. Maybe the grass in one area might be a slightly different color due to small variations in soil conditions.

  No such luck: If there were any hatches as far as I could see in the field, I couldn't spot them.

  I'd thought the dogs would tire of us stroking and scratching them, but after a while I realized I was wrong; they'd take the attention for as long as we could stand to give it.

  "Let's go," I said. "We have a lot more to see."

  Pri nodded, gave a last pet to two of the dogs, and stood.

  They followed us to the edge of the path but not onto it, some invisible fence doing its job and restricting them to their domain.

  We followed the trail for a couple hundred meters as it wound around the edge of the grass and up a steep hill. We stopped at the top of a rise in the center of an orchard that ringed the little hill. Ten-meter-high trees blocked our view in all but two directions: the path up which we'd come, and the one leading away from us. We paused to appreciate the view: Trees full of light green fruit topped in the distance by the cloud wall through which our shuttle had taken us; the path behind us vanishing down a winding slope; a field of yellow flowers ahead of us, the growth seeming to stretch all the way to the lake that surrounded the island.

  "They designed everything you see," she said. "They started with a huge excavation, built the underground complex, covered it, and then constructed all of this. Nature had no hand in any of it; it's one vast, unnatural zoo." Her fists unconsciously clenched in anger.

  I sniffed the air and caught the scents of trees, ripening fruit, grasses, and animal musk I couldn't identify. Gentle breezes ruffled the leaves. "But a beautiful one," I said. "You were right: They did a great job."

  "I just wish—"

  I put my hand gently over her mouth before she could say anything that any software later reviewing our conversation might take the wrong way. "So do I," I said, removing my hand. "I wish I'd listened to you and gone along with more of the activities you suggested, and I wish I'd come here with you earlier." I paused and thought frantically about the types of long-standing arguments a couple might have. I'd never been in a relationship with a woman that lasted for more than a mission, so I had to scramble to make up something believable. "In all those talks we had, I wish I'd listened better, period."

  That seemed to do the trick. Pri nodded in what I hoped was understanding and said, "You're doing better now." She closed her eyes for a moment and visibly relaxed. "We should keep moving; there's a lot more to see." She opened her eyes, lifted her right hand slightly, and glanced down at it.

  Yeah, she understood.

  I held her right hand. It was warm and soft and ever so slightly damp with sweat. I felt awkward as hell. Even pretending to have a relationship with her left me uncertain and uncomfortable. Still, we headed down the path like that, strolling hand in hand, just another couple touring the island.

  After a hundred meters we abandoned the pretense and stopped holding hands. We passed by another field, this one full of pale blue flowers the width of my palm. Milling around the field about thirty meters in front of us and eating grass and the petals of the flowers were a dozen creatures I initially took to be enormous lions, their muscular, yellow-brown bodies and thick brownish manes unmistakable even though their height—shoulders over two meters off the ground—was greater than that of any lion or lion derivative I'd ever seen. Then one of the beasts lifted its head and I involuntarily stepped backward. Staring at me was what appeared at this distance to be a human face, its expression slack, its mouth slowly chewing. When I didn't look away, the animal came closer, and I could see that the face wasn't quite right: The skin was a bit too hairy, the eyes a tad too large, and the overall shape more square than it should have been.

  After the dogs, I expected these animals to come to us, but they ignored us. Even the one that had studied me looked away and returned to eating.

  "That's it?" I said, my voice a bit too loud, the question partly to Pri and, I realized after I said it, partly in frustration to the animals. "They just chew grass and flowers?"

  Apparently not. Two of them straightened, walked over to us, and stopped two meters away, one lining up with each of us. They sat in unison, their front paws stretched in front of them. Mine stared into my eyes but otherwise did nothing.

  "Look at the sphinx's eyes, and think a question to which you'd like an answer," Pri said.

  I tilted my head slightly and opened my mouth to ask her how she knew all this, but she was ahead of me.

  "I told you we didn't need to pay for the guided tour," she said, "because I've taken it several times in the past. That's how I know the story behind these animals. The legend is that either they'll respond with a riddle or whatever comes into your head next will hold the key to answering your question." She smiled at me. "Give it a try; it can't hurt."

  I considered pointing
out how dumb this idea was, but Pri clearly knew the notion was nothing more than tourist bait. So I stared at the almost human face for a few seconds. I asked the question I frequently ponder: Is my sister still alive? As I expected, nothing in the creature's expression suggested it had somehow telepathically heard my question. The only answers I received were the ones I'd deduced all along: Probably not, but because she was a healer, possibly so—assuming, of course, that the Pinkelponker system had survived the nanobot disaster.

  Thinking about Jennie did me no good, but I kept facing toward the sphinx and used the excuse to scan as much as I could see of the surrounding area without moving my head. Neither normal light nor the IR view gave me any hint of a hatch.

  I had to face it: Unless I got very lucky and spotted a defective or open cover to the underground complex, I wasn't going to learn anything useful walking around the outside. These people were just too good.

  I turned to face Pri. She was still staring intently into the almost human face in front of her. She had to be thinking about Joachim. Maybe she was aware of how silly this was and was doing it in the face of all reason, knowing she'd hear nothing but hoping for an answer nonetheless. I'd done it for my sister; why shouldn't she for her son? Still, if we were to have any chance of finding him, we needed more data than I now believed we were going to get here. We'd give the rest of the place enough of a look to maintain our cover, but then we'd move on.

  I cleared my throat, waited a few seconds, and said, "What do you say we find some food? I'm ready for an early lunch."

  Disappointment swept across her face for a moment, but then she regained control.

  "Sure," she said. "I could use a bite myself. I think I remember where the nearest snack area is. Follow me."

  The rest of the day unrolled like an old-fashioned map, flat image after flat image after flat image passing before my eyes as I refused to let the attractions draw my full attention and instead focused frequently on the ground, checking for signs of openings and finding none. We passed by slow-moving waterfalls in which mer-creatures swam and hovered; rocky cliff sections guarded by dragons, dark gray smoke coming from their nostrils; horses that at first appeared to have the upper bodies of men and women but that upon closer inspection were no more human than the sphinxes; great horned beasts wandering in mazes beneath transparent bridges crowded with spectators; and much, much more. We saw food vendors and souvenir hawkers and the occasional human tour guide leading a group of the ultra-wealthy. We ran across three security guards speaking in low tones to two men who appeared to be on the verge of a fist-fight, but we never saw anyone emerge from the underground area, and I never caught even a hint of a hatch. I'd even listened on the machine frequency for a security camera that might be in a chatty mood, but I couldn't hear any; based on what Shurkan had said, they probably used only wired cameras and turned off all wireless output.