Ebook series scifan tad williams otherland 04 of 04 sea of silver light

OTHERLAND Volume Four SEA OF SILVER LIGHT Tad Williams CONTENTS Title Dedication Acknowledgements Author's Note City of Golden Shadow: Synopsis River of Blue Fire: Synopsis Mountain of Black Glass: Synopsis Foreword Table of Contents First: - A VOYAGE IN THE HEART CHAPTER - Strange Bedfellows CHAPTER - Execution Sweet CHAPTER - Restless Natives CHAPTER - In Silver Dreaming CHAPTER - The Last Fish to Swallow CHAPTER - Talking to Machines CHAPTER - The Man from Mars CHAPTER - Listening to the Nothing CHAPTER - Hannibal's Return CHAPTER 10 - The Land of Glass and Air Second: - GHOST SONGS CHAPTER 11 - Yours Very Sincerely CHAPTER 12 - The Boy in the Well CHAPTER 13 - King Johnny CHAPTER 14 - The Stone Girl CHAPTER 15 - Confessional CHAPTER 16 - Badlands CHAPTER 17 - Breathing Problems CHAPTER 18 - Making a Witch CHAPTER 19 - The Bravest Man in the World CHAPTER 20 - Thompson's Iron CHAPTER 21 - Handling Snakes CHAPTER 22 - More Very Bush Third: - THE DYING HOUR CHAPTER 23 - Orientation CHAPTER 24 - Getting out of Dodge CHAPTER 25 - The Hidden Bridge CHAPTER 26 - Flies and Spiders CHAPTER 27 - The Green Steeple CHAPTER 28 - Master of His Silence CHAPTER 29 - Stony Limits CHAPTER 30 - Climbing the Mountain CHAPTER 31 - Romany Fair CHAPTER 32 - Bad House Fourth: - SORROW'S CHILDREN CHAPTER 33 - Weekend Hours CHAPTER 34 - Desert Smile CHAPTER 35 - Rainbow's Shoe CHAPTER 36 - Without a Net CHAPTER 37 - The Locked Room CHAPTER 38 - Boy in Darkness CHAPTER 39 - Broken Angel CHAPTER 40 - The Third Head of Cerberus CHAPTER 41 - Playing the Knight CHAPTER 42 - Old School CHAPTER 43 - Tears of Ra CHAPTER 44 - Stolen Voices CHAPTER 45 - Send CHAPTER 46 - Thoughts Like Smoke CHAPTER 47 - Star Over Louisiana CHAPTER 48 - Unreal Bodies CHAPTER 49 - The Next Fifth: - INHERITORS CHAPTER 50 - No Promises CHAPTER 51 - Watching Cars Explode CHAPTER 52 - The Oracle Surprised CHAPTER 53 - Borrowed House Afterword An ocean of silver emptiness Flickers of light, the smearing of broken spectra, a fine dust of luminance but nothing else The shimmery cloudstuff that had girdled the mountain seemed to be all around her now, although she could sense something hard and horizontal beneath her She was not bodiless—it was not a dream this time Her hands crawled over her own flesh and to the ground on either side, a ground she could not even see She was lost in a heavy, shining fog, everything and everyone else gone She walked a half-dozen careful paces, testing each footstep before setting it down The ground was absolutely flat There was nothing else—no precipice, no vertical stone slab of mountain, no sound, no light except the ubiquitous pearly gleam of the mist Even the fog had no substance: it shimmered wetly but was not wet There was nothing There was Renie and nothing Everything gone She sat down and clutched at her head I’m dead, she thought, but outside the dream, the idea of death was not a soothing one And this is all there is Everyone lied She laughed, but it sounded like something wasn’t working properly inside her Even the atheists lied “Oh, damn,” she said out loud Praise for OTHERLAND: Sea of Silver Light: “This stunning finale to the gigantic Otherland tetralogy, a brilliant fusion of quest fantasy and technological SF, is sure to please Williams’s many fans At nearly 700 pages this is a mighty mouthful to swallow, but a well crafted if convoluted plot sustains interest through the lengthy climax, which explains the inexplicable The Otherland books are a major accomplishment.” —Publishers Weekly “Williams notably extrapolates the technology of virtual reality, to the point where it is indistinguishable from physical reality for the characters and sometimes the reader, and he exhibits a fine satirical touch when writing about games, folklore, and the influence on society of ultra-hightech.” —Booklist “In reading a multi-volume series that’s still in the process of creation, not all the suspense lies in the plotline This is especially true when the quality of the early installments is high In Sea of Silver Light, Tad Williams accomplishes this and more, drawing his massive Otherland saga to a triumphant conclusion Strongly written, finely characterized, masterfully plotted, and above all consistently intelligent in its examination of self and story, real and virtual, and the blurred boundaries in between, this series stands as a major achievement, and should cement Williams’ reputation as one of the most accomplished authors now working in the field.” —SF Site (sfsite.com) “The Otherland series concludes triumphantly in this fourth and final volume The real and virtual plots all come to a spectacular climax, but Williams avoids any neat and tidy resolution—a surprisingly satisfying conclusion to such a fantastic adventure.” —Locus Praise for the previous volumes of OTHERLAND: “On an epic scale and most impressive of all is Otherland, a big colorful novel full of real-world conspiracy and virtual reality wonders, with characters worth caring about.” —Locus “This is the best thing Williams has ever done, and it deserves attention, time, praise More, it deserves to be read.” —The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction “Epic in scope and size, this near-future cyberspace adventure has likable characters, heinous villains, a plethora of classical references and a slew of powerful action sequences that propel its many-tiered plot forward Williams fills his pages with the sort of stories and characters that readers of epic fantasy are sure to love.” —Publishers Weekly “The sheer breadth of Williams’ knowledge and the richness of his imagination make this book, like its predecessors, a complex and slow-paced feast.” —Booklist “Once again, Williams displays remarkable talent in making the unbelievable even more than plausible The many virtual worlds he creates in Otherland offer entertainment, insights, and commentary on a near-future Earth that is often downright scary simply because it seems so familiar —in a bad sort of way The author manages to portray a callous, uncaring society that still has concerned and unselfish citizens Tad Williams is a master of description Scenes seem to leap off the page, grab you by the collar, and then pull you into the story.” —Science Fiction Weekly “The ultimate virtual-reality saga, borrowing motifs from cyberpunk, mythology, and world history.” —San Francisco Chronicle “Otherland has true speculative grandeur sticks in your head like Zen toffee.” —Time Out My father still hasn't actually cracked any of the booksso, no, he still hasn't noticed I think I'm just going to have to tell him Maybe I should break it to him gently "Everyone here who hasn't had a book dedicated to them, take three steps forward Whoops, Dad, hang on a second " Acknowledgements These people saved my life Without their help, I would never have finished these books You may apply the appropriate punishments The List So Far: Barbara Cannon, Aaron Castro, Nick Des Barres, Debra Euler, Arthur Ross Evans, Amy Fodera, Sean Fodera, Jo-Ann Goodwind, Deborah Grabien, Nic Grabien, Jed Hartmann, Tim Holman, Nick Itsou, John Jarrold, Katharine Kerr, Ulrike Killer, M J Kramer, Jo and Phil Knowles, Mark Kreighbaum, LES , Bruce Lieberman, Mark McCrum, Joshua Milligan, Hans-Ulrich Möhring, Eric Neuman, Peter Stampfel, Mitch Wagner, Michael Whelan To which must be added another group of the brave and the good: Melissa Brammer, Dena Chavez, Rick Cuevas, Marcia de Lima, Jim Foster As always, shout-outs to all my homies on the Tad Williams List-serve and the message boards of the TW Fan Page and Guthwuff.com's MS&T Interactive Thesis And of course, no acknowledgments would be truly acknowledgmentacious without mentioning my wonderful wife Deborah Beale, my lovely and talented agent Matt Bialer, and my brilliant and patient editors Betsy Wollheim and Sheila Gilbert My kids Connor and Devon didn't really help much, but they sure make life more interesting (and the need to finish and sell books more acute), and Connor did type a bunch of consonants into my manuscript at random for me to use later, so I guess they belong in here as well Renie wasn't sure why Catur Ramsey laughed She thought what Sellars said was very touching "So so what does this Otherland Trust do?" she asked "Vote on things?" "Yes—in fact we have something to vote on now." Sellars looked over at Sam and Orlando, who were whispering "Orlando—would you please rise?" Renie could not hide a smile He sounded like a schoolteacher Orlando stood, a strange mixture of barbarian grace and teenage awkwardness "Have you decided on what you want to call yourself?" Sellars asked him "I think so." "But he's already got a name!" It was clear Sam Fredericks had not known this was coming, whatever it was "It's not another name he needs," Sellars told her, "but a title Whatever happens, the worlds of the network will need lots of supervision, especially at first as we bring them back online I can't it all I considered Kunohara, but he has made it clear he does not wish such an active role Also, I need to train someone for the long term, teach them some of my responsibilities, as a maintenance man if not as a god—especially if I hope to ride the sky-river-of-light someday, as our absent friends called it So I need an apprentice, I suppose Orlando?" "I think I want to be called a ranger." Renie thought she saw a blush beneath the deep tan "I plan to travel a lot, so it makes sense And to kind of have responsibility for the place, too—like a forest ranger And and it has another meaning From a favorite book of mine." Sellars nodded "An excellent choice But may we at least dignify it with the little 'Head Ranger'?" He Smiled "Considering that this network was largely the province of one astounding mind, that adds another layer of meaning, too." He turned to the table "Let us vote All in favor of Orlando Gardiner as the first Head Ranger of the Otherland network ." All the hands went up "Wow, Gardino," Sam Fredericks said in a loud stage-whisper "Now you're Assistant God!" "Yeah, and I never even got a high school education." "Enough jokes, you two," Sellars said kindly "I believe you have another meeting to attend?" "Oh, yeah." Orlando's good cheer suddenly evaporated and he was pure nervous adolescent "Yeah, we do." He and Sam stood up "Mr Ramsey, are you coming?" "I'm ready," the lawyer told them "But we have come to no conclusion about the network itself," Martine protested "Surely it is too important a question simply to abandon." "It is indeed," Sellars said "But we have days, perhaps even weeks, to make our decisions Try to get Nandi Paradivash to come to the next meeting Let's say in two days, shall we?" Renie almost complained that two days was too soon, that some of them had to find jobs, but then she remembered "About that money ." she said Sellars shook his head, "There's no one to give it back to—I'm dead, remember? If you don't want it, I'm sure you can find a worthy cause that will accept a large donation." He seemed to enjoy her frustration "And if you remind me, I'll arrange a better way for you to get online next time You might want to consider getting a neurocannula, unless you have some religious objection." By the time Sellars moved off, summoned by Hideki Kunohara for a private chat in one of the adjoining rooms, Orlando, Sam, and Catur Ramsey had already left and the others were all talking— all but Martine, who still sat apart as though she were a stranger at the gathering Renie squeezed !Xabbu's hand before moving around the table toward her Martine looked up, but it was impossible to glean anything about the woman's emotional state from her featureless sim "So does the money upset you, too?" Renie asked I am grateful, I suppose, but it does seem a little highhanded ." Martine seemed surprised "The money? No, Renie, I have scarcely thought of it I was wealthy already, from my settlement, and and I have few needs I have already earmarked my share to go to children's charities It seems appropriate." "You can see now, can't you? Is it strange?" "A bit." She sat motionless "I will grow used to it In time." Renie searched for something to keep the conversation going "There's something I've been thinking about Emily And Azador." Martine nodded slowly "That had occurred to me as well." "I mean, if she was really a version of Ava—and Azador was really Jongleur !" The Frenchwoman could not show it with her face, but there was a sour tone in her voice "It is stranger than incest, when you consider that Ava was a clone—and strangely accurate as well, when you consider the child she was meant to bear I suppose it was a subconscious expression of Jongleur's ultimate vanity." She sighed "It was all as haunted and ugly as the House of Atreus But they are dead now All of them every one dead." "Oh, Martine, you seem so sad." The featureless sim shrugged "There is little in it worth talking about." "And you seem very angry about Paul." She did not reply immediately On the other side of the table, Bonnie Mae Simpkins laughed at some remark of !Xabbu's, although the small man looked entirely serious "Paul Jonas was very unhappy at the end," Martine finally said "He was devastated to realize that he was a copy, as he put it That he could never have the things he wanted most of all—that he was separated forever from the life he remembered Yes, I am angry He was a good, good man He did not deserve that Sellars had no right." Renie thought that somehow, Martine felt the same kinds of things Paul had "Sellars was doing his best We all were." "Yes, I know." The edge was gone and only listlessness remained Renie almost missed the anger "But I cannot get it out of my mind His loneliness That feeling of being exiled from your own life ." Renie was trying to think of something reassuring to say until she noticed that the quality of Martine's silence had changed Even without a facial expression to read, Renie could see a certain tension, an alertness in the woman's sim that hadn't been there before "I have been a fool," Martine said suddenly "A selfish fool." "What ?" "I'm sorry, Renie I have no more time to talk We will speak later, I promise." With that, she disappeared Troubled, Renie wandered back around the table "Javier is criticizing my appearance," Florimel announced "Chance not!" T4b said The glyphs of light on his cheeks dimmed when he blushed "Just saying that the patch looks chizz She only did some other stuff, could be major scorchery." "Like what?" Florimel gave him a severe look "Buy my sim some gigantic breasts?" Javier shook his head vigorously "Didn't say that, me—not all unrespectful like that! Just meant you could get some sub-Ds Like your initials, something ." He trailed off and his own subdermals became even harder to see "Oh You molly-dupping me, huh?" "If that means teasing, Javier, then yes." Florimel shared an amused glance with Renie "But why are you so dressed up? I'm assuming that is what you really look like today Such nice clothes just for old friends like us?" He shrugged "Got an interview, me." "For a job?" Renie asked "Chance not Tryin' to get back into school AGAPA." "Arizona General and Pastoral Academy," Mrs Simpkins elaborated "Seen It was Bonnie Mae's idea, like." He suddenly looked like he wanted to back away from the gathering "Well, mine too." "Tell them what you want to do, Javier," Mrs Simpkins said He scowled, "Thought thought after all the things happened, I might try to be a minister, like Youth minister, seen? Work with micros." His shoulders came up as if to protect him from a beating He looked at Florimel out of the corner of his eye Renie and !Xabbu congratulated him, but he was waiting for something "Well," Florimel said after a moment "I think that is a wonderful idea, Javier I really do." Smiling, she leaned forward and carefully kissed him on his glowing cheek "I hope your dream comes true." Even as his subdermals threatened to disappear entirely, another kind of light stole onto his face "Make it through all that sayee lo stuff, can make it through anything, me," he promised "Amen," said Bonnie Mae CHAPTER 53 A Borrowed House SUBSCRIBER NOTICE: SERVICE ENDING (visual: Netfeed Marketing VP Salaam Audran) AUDRAN: Your subscription to Netfeed News Service is about to end We hope you've enjoyed our exciting blend of news and features keyed to your individual interests, and we'd like to tell you about what we think is a very exciting offer If you resubscribe now, not only will you receive a year's worth of Netfeed for half the standard price, but we'll include this wonderful all-weather Netfeed logo jacket made with miracle nanotechnology fibers, and one of our handsome plasmaglyph Netfeed coffee cups "Are you ready?" Catur Ramsey did his best to keep his voice calm His stomach was full of small active flutterings, and he of all of them had the least reason to be nervous Jet lag didn't help "I think it's time." "I don't know." Vivien Fennis looked around their living room as if she might never see it again "I don't know what to do." "Should we say something?" asked Conrad Gardiner hoarsely He had been pacing for half an hour while the other two made sure the gear for his wife's new neurocannula was working properly, and now he could hardly sit still on the couch "Or is there some button we have to push?" "No." Ramsey smiled "If you're ready, just let me and Mr Sellars the rest." The transition was instantaneous: one moment they were in a well-furnished California house in a gated community, the next on a path at the edge of a dark and ancient forest "Oh my God," said Vivien She turned away from the trees and surveyed the meadowed hills, the grass glinting with dew in the morning sunshine "It's it's so real!" "Not quite up to the network's earlier standards," said Ramsey "But yes, it's still pretty impressive, isn't it? I haven't got used to it myself." "Who's that?" asked Conrad "Is that ?" Ramsey squinted at the figure coming down the curving hill path "No, it's Sam Fredericks, right on time." She waved, then walked briskly toward them, a little incongruous-looking in her pants and dark shirt Ramsey could not help an inward flinch of embarrassment as he remembered her reaction when he suggested that for such a special occasion she could wear a dress if she wanted to Still, he had to admit that other than the workaday teenager clothes, she looked like someone who belonged in a storybook setting like this, her eyes bright, her cloud of fluffy brown hair wrapped but not contained by a bright scarf She stopped in front of them, suddenly shy "You're you're Orlando's parents, right?" "Yes I'm Vivien and this is Conrad." Ramsey had to admire the woman's aplomb After all, in the impatient hours leading up to this he had seen almost all of the emotions she was now hiding so effectively "And you must be Sam We've met your folks." She hesitated, then swept Sam into a trembling hug Both of them on for a moment as though unsure what to "We feel like we feel like we know you, too," Vivien said, releasing her Sam nodded Her own careful composure was also threatening to come undone "Well, I guess we oughta go," she said after a moment "He's waiting." As the four of them made their way up the curving, stone-lined path, Ramsey saw that Orlando's parents were holding hands They've had too much horror to practice on, he thought—but maybe it helps now Still, how could anyone be ready for this? "What what is this place?" Vivien asked They had almost reached the top of the hill A river splashed down beside the path, loud among the reeds, the water so musical it almost chimed Behind them the forest spread like a shadowy, frozen ocean "I've never seen anything like it." "It's from Orlando's favorite book," Sam said "Somebody had made it already He could have lived in a castle or something, one of the fancy parts, but he liked this part better." She turned her gaze down to the ground; her smile was strained "Somebody made this?" asked Conrad "I guess I knew that, but ." "There's more than this," said Ramsey "Lots more You can see it all someday if you want." "You should see Rivendell!" Sam offered "It's so chizz! Even without the elves." Conrad Gardiner shook his head in bafflement, but his wife was no longer listening As they neared the crest of the low hill they could see the next rise On a knoll above them stood a low house made of stone and wood surrounded by trees, simple in construction but somehow perfect for its setting "Oh my God," Vivien said quietly as they reached the bottom of the short slope and started up again "Is that it? I didn't know I'd be so nervous." A figure appeared in the doorway It looked down on them but did not smile or wave "Who is that?" asked Conrad Gardiner "That doesn't look anything like ." "Oh, Conrad, don't you listen?" Her voice sounded like something about to rip at the edge "That's what he looks here Now." She turned to Ramsey eyes wide "Isn't that right? Isn't it?" Catur Ramsey could only nod; he no longer trusted himself to speak When he turned back the figure was making its way down the path toward them "He's so big!" Vivien said "So big!" "You should have seen him before he got younger." Sam Fredericks laughed—a little wildly, Ramsey thought He stopped and touched Sam's arm, reminding her They let Orlando's parents walk the rest of the short distance to meet him by themselves "Orlando ?" Ramsey could hear sudden doubt in the woman's voice as she looked at the tall, black-haired youth before her "Is that are you ?" "It's me, Vivien." He lifted his hands, then suddenly clamped them over his nose and mouth for a moment as though to keep in something that wanted powerfully to escape "It's me, Mom." She closed the distance in a step and threw her arms around him so hard that they both almost toppled onto the turf beside the path "Hey, careful!" Orlando said, laughing raggedly, then Conrad had grabbed them both The threesome did stumble then, and fell to the grass in awkward stages They sat holding each other, babbling things that Ramsey could not quite hear Vivien was the first to lean back, but she kept one hand against Orlando's face and gripped his arm with the other, as if afraid to let him go "But how I don't understand ." Her hands not free to wipe her face, she could only shake her head and sniff loudly "I mean, I understand—Mr Ramsey explained, or tried to, but ." She pulled his hand against her own cheek, then kissed it "Are you certain it's you?" Her smile was crooked, her eyes bright with fear and hope "I mean, really you?" "I don't know." Orlando watched her as though he had forgotten what she looked like and might have only this small time to rememorize her features "I don't know But I feel like me I think like me I just I don't have a real body anymore." "We'll something about it." Conrad Gardiner had a fixed, miserable grin on his face and was holding Orlando's other arm with both hands "Specialists somebody must ." He shook his head, suddenly speechless Orlando smiled "Believe me—there are no specialists in this stuff But maybe someday." His smile faded a little "Just be glad for what we have." "Oh, Orlando, we are," said his mother "Think of it think of it like I'm in Heaven Except you can visit me whenever you want." Tears were running down his cheeks again "Don't cry, Mom! You're scanning me out." "Sorry." She let go of him for a moment to blot away her own tears with the arm of her blouse, stopped to stare at it "It feels like it's real This all does." She looked at her son "So you, even if I've never seen this version of you before." "It feels real, too," he said "And this is what I look like now That other me—well, he's gone You don't ever have to look at him again and feel sorry because because he looked like that." "We never cared!" "You cared about how I felt when other people stared at me." He reached out and touched her cheek, caught a drop of wetness there "This is how it is now, Vivien It's not all bad, is it?" He swallowed hard, then suddenly sprang to his feet, pulling his parents up as though they were children "You're so strong!" "I'm Thargor the barbarian—sort of." Orlando grinned "But I don't think I'll use that name anymore It's kind of woofie." He was eager to move now "Let me show you my house It's not really mine I'm just borrowing it from Tom Bombadil until I build my own." "Tom ?" "Bombadil Come on, you remember—you were the one who told me to read it in the first place." He pulled her to him and hugged her; when he let go she was in tears again, swaying "I want to show you all of it The next time you're here the barrow wights and Tom and Goldberry and everyone will be back It'll be different." He turned to Ramsey and Sam "You two—come on! You should see the view I have down the river valley." As Orlando's parents brushed leaves and grass from their clothes, they were startled by a movement at their feet Something black, hairy, and decidedly bizarre climbed out from underneath one of the borderstones along the path "You gotta something about those little psychos, boss," it shouted "They're makin' me nuts!" It saw Orlando's guests and stopped, eyes impossibly wide Vivien took an involuntary step backward "What ?" "This is Beezle," Orlando said, grinning again "Beezle, these are my parents, Vivien and Conrad." The misshapen cartoon bug looked at them for a moment, then performed a little bow "Oh, yeah Pleased to meetcha." Conrad stared, "This it's this is that gear thing." Beezle's lopsided eyes narrowed "Oh, nice 'Gear thing,' huh? I told the boss, sure, bygones are bygones—but seems to me the last time we hooked up, you were trying to unplug me." Orlando was smiling "Beezle saved the world, you guys." The bug shrugged "I had some help." "And he's going to be here with me—help me out with things Have adventures." Orlando stood up straighter "Hey! I have to tell you about my new job!" "Job?" asked Conrad weakly "We we're pleased to meet you, Beezle," said Vivien carefully, but she didn't look very pleased at all "It's 'Mr Bug' to you, lady," he growled, then suddenly flashed a broad cartoon smile "Nah, just kiddin' Don't worry about it Gear don't hold grudges." Further discussion was forestalled by a cloud of tiny yellow monkeys that swirled out of the forest, shrieking "Beegle buzz! Found you!" "Come play!" "Play stretch-a-bug!" Beezle let out a string of curses that sounded exactly like random punctuation, then disappeared back into the ground The monkeys hovered for a moment, disappointed "No fun," said a tiny voice "We're busy now, kids," Orlando told them "Could you go play somewhere else for a while?" The monkey-tornado swirled about his head for a moment, then lifted into the air "Okay, 'Landogarner!" one shrilled "We go now!" "Kilohana!" squealed another "Time to poop on the stone trolls!" The yellow cloud coalesced and flashed across the hills Orlando's parents stood like accident victims, so clearly overwhelmed by everything that Ramsey wanted to turn his back and give them some privacy "Don't worry—it's not always this exciting around here," said Orlando "We we just want to be with you." Vivien took a deep breath and tried to smile "Wherever you are." "I'm glad you're here." For a long moment he only stood looking at them His lip trembled, but then he forced a smile of his own "Hey, come see the house Everybody come!" He started up the path, then turned back so he could take Conrad and Vivien each by the hand He was much taller than either of them, and they were almost forced to run to keep up with his long strides Ramsey looked at Sam Fredericks He offered her his virtual handkerchief and gave her a moment to use it, then they followed the Gardiner family up the hill "You look a lot better than the last time I saw you," Calliope said The woman in the bed nodded Her expression was flat, as though someone had carefully rubbed the life out of it "So you I'm surprised you're walking." Calliope pointed to the plasteel tubes beside her chair "On crutches Very slowly But the doctors can some amazing things these days You should know." "I'm not going to be walking, no matter what they do." There wasn't anything much to be said to that, but Calliope tried "Would dying have been better?" she asked gently "That's an excellent question." Calliope sighed "I'm sorry you've had such a bad time of it, Ms Anwin." "It's not like I didn't deserve it," said the young woman "I wasn't an innocent An idiot, yes—but not an innocent." "Nobody deserves John Dread," Calliope said firmly "Maybe But he isn't going to get what he deserves, is he!" Calliope shrugged, although the same thought had been burning in her own mind for days "Who ever does? But I've been meaning to ask you something What exactly were you doing with the pad after I made the emergency call? What were you trying to send?" The American woman blinked slowly "A dataphage." She read Calliope's expression "Something that chews up information It had eaten half my system a few hours earlier, so I figured it might him some damage I wrapped it in his own files Those horrible images So he wouldn't know at first what it was." "Maybe that's what put him in the coma." "I wanted it to kill him," she said flatly "Painfully Anything less was a failure." They sat for a few moments in silence, but when Calliope at last began to shift her weight, preparing to stand, the woman suddenly spoke "I I have something on my conscience." Something came into her eyes, a strange mixture of fear and hope that made Calliope uneasy "It's been bothering me for a long time It happened in Cartagena ." Calliope held up her hand "I'm not a priest, Ms Anwin And I don't want to hear anything more about this case from you I've studied the reports and your interview with Detective Chan I can read between the lines as well as the next person." She stilled another attempt with a glare "I'm serious I represent the law Think very carefully before you say anything else Then, if you still need to something to ease your conscience, well, you can always call the Cartagena police But I can tell you that the jails in Colombia are not all that nice." She softened her tone "You've been through a lot You're going to have a lot more time to think while you heal, then you have to decide what you're going to with the rest of your life." "You mean because I won't be able to use my legs, don't you?" There was more than a hint of selfpity; Calliope's anger sparked "Yes, without your legs But you're alive, right? You have a chance to start over That's more than a lot of people get That's more than Dread's other women got." For a moment Dulcie Anwin glared at her with something like fury and Calliope braced for the harsh words, but the American woman stayed silent After a moment her face sagged "Yeah," she said "You're right Count my blessings, huh?" "It'll be easier to that later," Calliope told her "Listen, good luck I mean that But now I've got to go." Dulcie nodded and reached for a glass of water on the bedside table, then hesitated "Is he really gone?" she asked "Not coming back? Are you sure?" "As sure as anyone can be." Calliope tried to keep her voice calmly professional "He hasn't shown anything for a week—no change, no sign of waking And he's guarded day and night Even if he comes out of it, he goes right to prison." Dulcie didn't say anything She took the water and held it close to her mouth with trembling hands, but did not drink "Sorry, but I really have to go." Calliope picked up her crutches "Call me if I can help with anything Your visa's been extended, by the way." "Thanks." Dulcie finally took a drink, then put the glass down "And thanks for for everything else." "Just doing my job," said Calliope, and made her way slowly to the door The guard recognized her but still made her wave her badge in front of the reader before he would allow her in Calliope silently approved The heavy door clunked open and she stepped through into the hallway with the big oneway windows The guard leaned past her to make sure the door closed again behind her "Anything?" she asked "Nah Two more doctors today Nothing Reflex tests, pupil dilation, you name it If he isn't dead, it's a technicality They might as well bury him." The idea started a shiver of superstitious horror I'd have to stand over the grave with silver bullets and a sharpened stake "He's already been dead once," she told the guard "Let's not get too cocky." She moved to the window, stared through the crosshatching of tensor-wire The figure in the pool of light was strapped to the heavy bedframe and festooned with tubes and wires and dermal sensors, which evoked further horror-flick thoughts—the Frankenstein monster rising, crackling with electricity, snapping his restraints Dread's eyes were open just a tiny fraction, his fingers slightly curled She tried to fool herself that she could see a twitch of movement here or there, but except for the slow expansion and contraction of his torso, the automatic pumping systems moving breath and blood, there was nothing He's not coming back, she told herself Whatever happened to him, charge, some kind of dataeater, he's somewhere else now—as good as dead, like the man said You could come here every day for the rest of your life and nothing would change, Skouros He's not coming back Oddly, this did not bring her much relief, let alone the release she was only beginning to realize she badly needed But that means he's escaped, she thought, and did not realize how her fingers were tightening on the windowsill until she felt the stab of pain in her healing back muscles He's gone out the easy way After everything he did, he just got away He should be in hell, screaming Instead he's probably just going to sleep out the rest of his life, then slip away quietly She pulled her crutches tight against her forearms again, gave a last look at the still, almost handsome face, then made her way slowly back toward the security door Life goes on, she told herself Sometimes it ends this way The universe isn't a kid's story, where everybody gets their just desserts at the end She sighed and hoped Stan would have found a parking place close to the facility Her legs hurt and she badly needed a cup of coffee He wanted to sleep, ached to sleep, but would not get the chance It had been days since he had slept, maybe weeks He couldn't remember As it was, he had not even regained his breath, which still sawed in his throat, when he smelled the smoke Bushfire They've set a bushfire to drive me out of the trees For a moment he was so filled with rage and despair that he wanted to stand and shriek at the sky Why wouldn't they leave him alone? Days, weeks, months—he had lost track He had no more strength But he could not give up—what they would was too terrible He could not let his fear overcome him He never had and he never would The smoke ran past him in tendrils, curling like beckoning fingers He could hear the noises now, not just behind him but closing in on his left as well, the shrill cries whispering down the flame-hot wind He stumbled wearily onto his feet and took a few limping steps through the tangle of undergrowth They were driving him out of the stand of gum trees and back into the empty lands The light was dim—it was always so dim! Where was the sun? Where was the daylight that would drive these terrible things into hiding in the earth, that would allow him to rest? It's been twilight forever, he wanted to scream, it's not fair! But even as he raged at the monstrous cruelty of the universe he heard a coughing bark close behind him He staggered out of the now useless security of the trees and into the open The field of gray-yellow stone that lay before him promised to cut his bare feet unmercifully, but he had no choice Sweating, already exhausted and the chase just starting again, he hurried down the salt pan and out into the dead, dusty land The cries behind him grew louder now, inhuman voices whooping with glee, screeching like carrion crows He looked back, although he knew he should not, that it could only weaken him to see them Surrounded by the flames of the bushfire, they came loping out of the copse he had just left, laughing and cackling as they spotted him, a crowd of horrid shapes from his mother's stories, some animal, some not, but uniformly monstrous in size and aspect All of them were female His mother ran yipping at the front of the pack, the Dreamtime Bitch herself, first and fiercest as always, her bright dingo eyes glaring, her hairy dingo jaws open to swallow him down into her horrible red insides Behind her came the Sulaweyo bitch with her sharp spear, as well as the whores Martine and Polly who had somehow grown together into one stone-eyed, blind, remorseless thing And behind them, through the spreading smoke, hurried all the others—the hungry pack of mopaditi, the nameless, almost faceless dead But they did not need faces The dead women had terrible claws and jagged teeth, and legs that could run forever without growing tired They had hunted him, hour after hour, day after day, week after week They would always hunt him Weeping like a nightmare-plagued child, whimpering with exhaustion and pain and terror, Johnny Wulgaru ran naked across the dry lands of the Dreamtime, searching desperately for a hiding place that did not exist She pulled him into a little park across from the hospital, although she wasn't sure why The late afternoon light was slanting between the buildings and the thought of taking a taxi back to the rooming house with the harsh light in her eyes depressed her She wanted to sleep, but she also wanted to talk The truth was she didn't know what she wanted anymore They sat on a bench beside the path, next to a small but surprisingly well-tended flower bed A group of children were playing atop a bench on the other side of the park, laughing, pushing each other off One tumbled onto the cement path, but even as Renie leaned forward in reflexive fear the little girl sprang up again and clambered back onto the bench, determined to regain her place "He looked better today, didn't he?" Renie asked !Xabbu "I mean, the way he smiled—that was a real Stephen-smile." "He does seem better." !Xabbu watched the children for a moment, nodding "One day, I would like you to see the place I grew up," he said "Not just the delta, but the desert, too It can be very beautiful." Renie was still worrying about Stephen; it took her a second to catch up "But I've been there!" she said "The one you built, anyway That was a beautiful place." He looked at her carefully "You seem full of worry, Renie." "Me? Just thinking about Stephen, I guess." She settled back against the bench The children had now scrambled down to the ground and were running in a circle on the dusty, cracked cement at the middle of the park, using a solitary palm tree as their center pole "Do you wonder sometimes what it all means?" she asked suddenly "I mean now now that we know." He looked at her again, then back to the shrieking children "What it all means ?" "I mean, well, you saw those creatures Those information people If they're what comes next, then what about us?" "I don't understand, Renie." "What about us? What purpose is there for us? All of us Everyone on Earth, still living, breeding, dying Making things Having arguments But those information creatures are what comes next, and they've gone on without us." He nodded slowly "And parents, when their children are born, they need to die? Are their lives ended?" "Well, no—but this is different Parents take care of their children They raise them They help them." She sighed "Sorry, I'm just I don't know, sad I don't know why." He took her hand "I just wonder what it all means now," she said, laughing a little "I suppose it's just that so many things have happened The world almost came to an end We're getting a place together We have money! But I'm still not certain I want to accept it." "Stephen will need a wheelchair and a special bed," !Xabbu said gently "For a while, anyway And you liked that house in the hills." "Yes, but I'm not sure I belong in that house." She laughed again, shook her head "Sorry I'm just being difficult." He smiled, a small, secret smile "Besides, I have something I wish to spend some of my share of the money on In fact, I have already done it." "What? You look very mysterious." "I have bought some land In the Okavango Delta One of the treaties lapsed and it was being sold." "That's where you grew up What what are you going to with it?" "Spend some time there." He saw her expression and his eyes widened "Not by myself! With you, I hope And with Stephen, when he is strong enough, and perhaps even someday with children that you and I might have Just because they will live in the city world should not mean they never know anything else." She settled back, her sense of alarm fading "For a moment there I thought you'd changed your mind about us." She couldn't help frowning "You could have told me, you know I wouldn't have tried to stop you." "I am telling you I had to make the decision very quickly on the way to meet you at the hospital." He smiled again "You see what your city life is doing to me? I promise not to hurry again for a year." She smiled back, a little wearily, and squeezed his hand "I really am sorry I'm such bad company All these things to think about, everything is so big and important and and for some reason I'm still wondering if any of it matters." He looked at her for a moment "So because the new people took my people's stories on some strange voyage we cannot imagine, does that mean that my people themselves no longer matter?" "Does it ? Of course not!" "And because you have seen a version of my desert world—one that I built from my own particular memory—does that mean there would be nothing to gain from seeing its true shape and color? Nothing to gain from taking Stephen and our children there to sleep under the real and living stars?" "No." He let go of her hand and reached down beside the bench When he straightened up he held a small red blossom in his hand "Do you remember the flower I made for you? The first day you showed me how your virtual world worked?" "Of course." She could not help staring at the petals, slightly ragged along one edge where something small had chewed them, at their rich, red, velvety color, even at the golden pollen smudged against !Xabbu's brown wrist "It was very nice." "I did not make this one," he said "It is real and it will die But we can still look at it together, in this moment That is something, is it not?" He handed it to her She raised it to her nose and sniffed it "You're right." She took his hand again Something within her that had been pinched and confined since she had stepped out of the tank at last began to open—to unfurl its wings inside her heart "Yes Oh, yes That is definitely something." The streetlights were coming on, but across the park the children played on as night fell, oblivious Afterword Even the sounds of the battle had almost vanished now, the pounding roar of the German heavy guns reduced to bass notes that throbbed but no longer had the power to inspire terror He was swimming up through something, caught and carried toward a light like a dawning sky, and as he rose he could hear her voice again, the dream-voice that had spoken to him for so long "Paul! Don't leave us!" But there was something different about it now—something different about everything He had heard her so many times, felt her, almost, a presence with wings, with pleading eyes, but now in the confusion and the growing light he saw her whole She floated before him, her arms spread Her wings, he realized, were a network of cracks that radiated light Her face was sad, infinitely sad, but somehow not quite real, like an icon that had been painted and repainted until the original face was almost gone "Don't leave, Paul," she begged For the first time there was something more than sadness in her words—a demanding note, a hopeless, harsh command He tried to answer her but found he could not speak He finally recognized her It all came flooding back—the tower, the lies, the terrible last moments And her name came back, too "Ava!" But as he said it, as he finally found his voice, she was gone And then he woke up For the first moments he thought he was still trapped in endless nightmare, but had simply shuffled into a different foul dream, the chaos of battle and the surreality of the giant's castle now to be replaced by some horrible vision of death—white walls, faceless white phantoms Then one of the doctors pulled away his surgical mask and straightened His face was an ordinary one, a stranger's face "He's back." The others stood up too, shuffled back, then there was a new surgical-smocked figure on the stage, leaning over him, a smiling man with Asian features "Welcome back, Mr Jones," he said "My name is Owen Tanabe." Paul could only stare at him, overwhelmed He let his eyes slide around the wide white room, the banks of machinery He had not the slightest idea where he was "You're undoubtedly a bit disoriented," Tanabe said "That's all right—you may rest as long as you like We've provided you with a first-class room—the one this hospital saves for visiting dignitaries." He laughed softly Paul could tell the man was nervous "But you are not merely visiting, Mr Jonas You're back!" "Where where am I?" "In Portland, Oregon, Mr Jonas At Gateway Hospital Where you are the guest of the Telemorphix Corporation." Things were filtering up, scatters of memory, but they only made him more confused "Telemorphix ? Oregon? Not Louisiana? Not the the J Corporation?" "Ah." Tanabe nodded solemnly "I see that you're beginning to remember It's a terrible thing, Mr Jonas, a terrible thing A very grave mistake an error made not by us but by the J Corporation, I must hasten to point out But we have rectified it We hope we hope you will remember that." Paul could only shake his head "I don't understand." "Time and rest, Mr Jonas, that's all you need But please—let's not keep you here any longer Some of my colleagues wanted to have a conversation with you, but I said, 'First we must show Mr Jonas the depth of our commitment, demonstrate our sorrow and indignation over what was done to him.' You've suffered from a regrettable mistake, Mr Jonas, but we are on your side The Telemorphix Corporation is your friend We will see that everything is put right." Paul was still shaking his head and fingering the neurocannula at the base of his skull—a piece of expensive equipment he had no memory of acquiring—when he was wheeled into the private room, which did indeed bear a greater resemblance to a hotel suite than anything usually found in a hospital Only the discreet bank of monitors beside the bed gave any hint of the place's true purpose A pair of silent orderlies helped him up onto the mattress—Paul was astonished to discover that his legs almost worked, although he felt horribly weak—and then there was only Tanabe standing in the doorway, still smiling "Oh, one other thing I imagine you're too tired to have a visitor?" "Visitor?" He was exhausted, but frightened to close his eyes—terrified he might wake up in some even stranger situation "No I'm not too tired." Tanabe's mask of good cheer slipped a little "Ah Very well But your doctor and and your visitor's lawyer have agreed that it will only be a fifteen-minute visit We don't want to risk your health." He regained his expression of unflappable optimism "After all, you're an important man to all of us." Paul could only stare, dumbfounded, as the door closed behind Tanabe He heard someone say something in the hall—voices might have been raised, but the walls were thick and Paul's head felt thick, too Then the door swung open and a woman he had never seen before walked in She was about his own age, slender and well-dressed, but clearly ill-at-ease The only thing he could not quite understand was why she was wearing dark glasses in a dimly lit room "Do you mind if I sit?" Her English was lightly accented—Italian? French? "No." He shook his head, willing to let whatever else was to happen wash over him Just drift, he thought Until things make sense Then it occurred to him that drifting hadn't been a very good strategy so far He felt a stab of regret for poor, dead Ava, for his own negligent foolishness "Who are you?" She looked down for a long moment, then turned the dark lenses back toward him "I did not think that would hurt, but it did We are strangers, Paul But we are friends, too My name is Martine Desroubins." He stared at her as she lowered herself into a chair beside his bed "I've never seen you before—at least I don't think so." He frowned, still slow, still cloudy in his head "Are you blind?" "I was." She folded her hands on her lap "I am still not used to seeing My eyes hurt from the light sometimes." She tipped her head a little to the side "But I can see well enough And it is very good to see you again, Paul." "I still don't understand any of this I was working for for Felix Jongleur In Louisiana Then something terrible happened A girl died I think I've been unconscious since then." "You have and you have not." She shook her head "I am confusing you again, of course I am sorry, but it is a long story—a very long story Before I begin, though, I need to tell you something important, since they may try to enforce their ridiculous fifteen minutes Do not sign anything No matter what the people from that corporation ask you to do, or promise you, give them nothing Nothing!" He nodded slowly "That Tanabe fellow—he was nervous." "As well he should be, since they helped steal two years of your life Did he tell you they paid for this hospital room? That is a lie—your friends paid for it No, that is unfair You earned it—many times over." "Two years? I'm not getting any less confused." She smiled for the first time It changed her face, transformed nice but nondescript into radiant "No I imagine not Do you suppose we can get decent coffee delivered in this hospital? There is much to say." "Shouldn't I be resting?" he asked, but gently, not wanting to offend her "This version of you has been asleep too long already Hear what I have to say, at least a little, then decide," she said "Oh, Paul, I am glad I came here The others want to see you too, but they are so busy—there is still so much to But when you are healthy we will visit them all." "I don't think I'll be able to travel terribly soon, at least not far." She shook her head and smiled again "Your friends are closer than you think." "What friends? You keep saying that." He searched his still-fuzzy memory "Do you mean Niles?" The woman called Martine laughed "I am certain this Niles is a fine person—but no You have the most wonderful friends imaginable, friends who have suffered at your side and who have triumphed against all odds, in large part because of your heroism." "Then why can't I remember them?" "Because, Paul—dear, brave Paul—you haven't met them yet But you will." .. .OTHERLAND Volume Four SEA OF SILVER LIGHT Tad Williams CONTENTS Title Dedication Acknowledgements Author's Note City of Golden Shadow: Synopsis River of Blue Fire: Synopsis Mountain of Black... Praise for OTHERLAND: Sea of Silver Light: “This stunning finale to the gigantic Otherland tetralogy, a brilliant fusion of quest fantasy and technological SF, is sure to please Williams s many... buildings—one of the many ways he felt himself slightly out of step with his own century Part of the appeal of the Canonbury house had been the oldfashioned scale of it—three stories, a few flights of stairs