Ebook series scifan tad williams otherland 01 of 04 city of golden shadow

OTHERLAND Volume One CITY OF GOLDEN SHADOW Tad Williams CONTENTS Title Dedication Acknowledgements Author's Note Foreword Table of Contents UNIVERSE NEXT DOOR Mister Jingo’s Smile The Airman Empty Signal Gray The Shining Place A World Afire No Man’s Land The Broken String Dread Mad Shadows RED KING'S DREAM Thorns Inside the Beast Looking Through the Glass Eland’s Daughter’s Son His Master’s Voice Friends in High Places The Deadly Tower Of Senbar-Flay A Call From Jeremiah Red And White Fragments Lord Set Up The Ladder Gear Blue Dog Anchorite ANOTHER COUNTRY Beneath Two Moons Hunger Hunters and Prey Bride of the Morning Star A Visit to Uncle Tomb of Glass In the Emperor’s Gardens Bleak Spaces The Dance THE CITY Someone Else’s Dream Butterfly and Emperor Lord of Temilún The Singing Harp Johnny’s Twist A New Day Blue Fire This book is dedicated to my father, Joseph Hill Evans, with love Actually, Dad doesn't read fiction, so if someone doesn't tell him about this, he'll never know Acknowledgments This has been a hideously complicated book to write, and I am indebted to many people for their assistance, but especially the following, who either provided desperately needed research help or waded through another giant-economy-sized Tad manuscript and had encouraging and useful things to say afterward: Deborah Beale, Matt Bialer, Arthur Ross Evans, Jo-Ann Goodwin, Deborah Grabien, Nic Grabien, Jed Hartman, John Jarrold, Roz Kaveney, Katharine Kerr, M J Kramer, Mark Kreighbaum, Bruce Lieberman, Mark McCrum, Peter Stampfel, Mitch Wagner As always, many thanks are due to my patient and perceptive editors, Sheila Gilbert and Betsy Wollheim For more information, visit the Tad Williams web site at: www.tadwilliams.com Author's Note The aboriginal people of Southern Africa are known by many names-San, Basarwa, Remote Area Dwellers (in current government-speak), and, more commonly, Bushmen I freely admit that I have taken great liberties in my portrayal of Bushman life and beliefs in this novel The Bushmen not have a monolithic folklore-each area and sometimes each extended family can sustain its own quite vibrant myths-or a single culture I have simplified and sometimes transposed Bushman thoughts and songs and stories Fiction has its own demands But the Bushmen's old ways are indeed disappearing fast One of my most dubious bits of truthmanipulation may turn out to be the simple assertion that there will be anyone left pursuing the huntergatherer life in the bush by the middle of the twenty-first century However I have trimmed the truth, I have done my best to make the spirit of my portrayal accurate If I have offended or exploited, I have failed My intent is primarily to tell a story, but if the story leads some readers to learn more about the Bushmen, and about a way of life that none of us can afford to ignore, I will be very happy Foreword It started in mud, as many things In a normal world, it would have been time for breakfast, but apparently breakfast was not served in hell; the bombardment that had begun before dawn showed no signs of letting up Private Jonas did not feel much like eating, anyway Except for a brief moment of terrified retreat across a patch of muddy ground cratered and desolate as the moon, Paul Jonas had spent all of this twenty-fourth day of March, 1918, as he had spent the three days before, and most of the past several months-crouched shivering in cold, stinking slime somewhere between Ypres and St Quentin, deafened by the skull-rattling thunder of the German heavy guns, praying reflexively to Something in which he no longer believed He had lost Finch and Mullet and the rest of the platoon somewhere in the chaos of retreat-he hoped they'd made it safely into some other part of the trenches, but it was hard to think about anything much beyond his own few cubits of misery The entire world was wet and sticky The torn earth, the skeletal trees, and Paul himself had all been abundantly spattered by the slow-falling mist that followed hundreds of pounds of red-hot metal exploding in a crowd of human beings Red fog, gray earth, sky the color of old bones: Paul Jonas was in hell-but it was a very special hell Not everyone in it was dead yet In fact, Paul noted, one of its residents was dying very slowly indeed By the sound of the man's voice, he could not be more than two dozen yards away, but he might as well have been in Timbuktu Paul had no idea what the wounded soldier looked like-he could no more have voluntarily lifted his head above the lip of the trench than he could have willed himself to fly-but he was all too familiar with the man's voice, which had been cursing, sobbing, and squealing in agony for a full hour, filling every lull between the crash of the guns All the rest of the men who had been hit during the retreat had shown the good manners to die quickly, or at least to suffer quietly Paul's invisible companion had screamed for his sergeant, his mother, and God, and when none of them had come for him, had kept on screaming anyway He was screaming still, a sobbing, wordless wail Once a faceless doughboy like thousands of others, the wounded man now seemed determined to make everyone on the Western Front bear witness to his dying moments Paul hated him The terrible thumping roar subsided; there was a glorious moment of silence before the wounded man began to shriek again, piping like a boiling lobster "Got a light?" Paul turned Pale beer-yellow eyes peered from a mask of mud beside him The apparition, crouched on hands and knees, wore a greatcoat so tattered it seemed made from cobwebs "What?" "Got a light? A match?" The normality of the question, in the midst of so much that was unreal, left Paul wondering if he had heard correctly The figure lifted a hand as muddy as the face, displaying a thin white cylinder so luminously clean that it might have dropped from the moon "Can you hear, fellow? A light?" Paul reached into his pocket and fumbled with numbed fingers until he found a box of matches, miraculously dry The wounded soldier began howling even louder, lost in the wilderness a stone's throw away The man in the ragged greatcoat tipped himself against the side of the trench, fitting the curve of his back into the sheltering mud, then delicately pulled the cigarette into two pieces and handed one to Paul As he lit the match, he tilted his head to listen "God help me, he's still going on up there." He passed the matches back and held the flame steady so Paul could light his own cigarette "Why couldn't Fritz drop one on him and give us all a little peace?" Paul nodded his head Even that was an effort His companion lifted his chin and let out a dribble of smoke which curled up past the rim of his helmet and vanished against the flat morning sky "Do you ever get the feeling ?" "Feeling?" "That it's a mistake." The stranger wagged his head to indicate the trenches, the German guns, all of the Western Front "That God's away, or having a bit of a sleep or something Don't you find yourself hoping that one day He'll look down and see what's happening and and something about it?" Paul nodded, although he had never thought the matter through in such detail But he had felt the emptiness of the gray skies, and had occasionally had a curious sensation of looking down on the blood and mud from a great distance, observing the murderous deeds of war with the detachment of a man standing over an anthill God could not be watching, that was certain; if He was, and if He had seen the things Paul Jonas had seen-men who were dead but didn't know it, frantically trying to push their spilled guts back into their blouses; bodies swollen and flyblown, lying unretrieved for days within yards of friends with whom they had sung and laughed-if He had seen all that but not interfered, then He must be insane But Paul had never for a moment believed that God would save the tiny creatures slaughtering each other by the thousands over an acre of shell-pocked mud That was too much like a fairy tale Beggar boys did not marry princesses; they died in snowy streets or dark alleys or in muddy trenches in France, while old Papa God took a long rest He summoned up his strength "Heard anything?" The stranger drew deeply on his cigarette, unconcerned that the ember was burning against his muddy fingers, and sighed "Everything Nothing You know Fritz is breaking through in the south and he'll go right on to Paris Or now the Yanks are in it, we're going to roll them right up and march to Berlin by June The Winged Victory of Samo-whatsit appeared in the skies over Flanders, waving a flaming sword and dancing the hootchy-coo It's all shit." "It's all shit," Paul agreed He drew once more on his own cigarette and then dropped it into a puddle He watched sadly as muddy water wicked into the paper and the last fragments of tobacco floated free How many more cigarettes would he smoke before death found him? A dozen? A hundred? Or might that one be his last? He picked up the paper and squeezed it into a tight ball between his finger and thumb "Thanks, mate." The stranger rolled over and began crawling away up the trench, then shouted something odd over his shoulder "Keep your head down Try to think about getting out About really the authorization code had clearly been generated from his own machines "Chairman? We are waiting." Ptah was in a good humor Comparatively speaking, he had all the time in the world "Just a moment." Osiris stared at the data before him, realizing absently that none of the Brotherhood could tell what he was doing, that they would only see him sitting motionless Did they wonder if he were having some kind of breakdown? He called for some other records and compared them with the fire-bright numbers before him Somewhere-it might have been another universe-his heart began to beat faster, like an ancient beast awakening from slumber Even the best expert systems could make assumptions Osiris began to laugh "Chairman?" It was too perfect He paused for a silent moment of exultation "I would like to direct the Brotherhood's attention to the code sequences in question." He waved his hand Line after line of numbers appeared on the council chamber's nearest roof column, carved into the very stone like the other names of power etched on the walls and doors of the Western Palace It was appropriate: these strings of numerals were the incantations that would preserve Jongleur's most magnificent and audacious dream "Please check to make sure they are the sequences you have submitted, the sequences that authorized action and allowed the subject's escape." Ptah and Horus exchanged glances Ibis-headed Thoth answered "They are the same, Chairman." "Good As you see in the report, embedded between the larger random sections are other nonrandom sequences These sequences indicate the kind of order it is, the date and time, the person who authorized it, and so on." "But we've already established that this code came from your own generator You admitted it!" Horus could not restrain his impatient anger If his funeral mask had permitted it, he would have grinned at him "But you not know all the sequences and what they import You see, this is an authorization for action, and it did come from mebut it did not go to either of those creatures." He indicated the perpetually drowning man and the puddle of twitching slime, then turned back to Horus."It went to you, Daniel." "What the hell are you talking about?" "All the orders generated from me carry a short sequence that indicates where they are bound These were sent to the military arm of the Brotherhood, not to TMX Someone has penetrated your system, Daniel They intercepted what were probably fairly unimportant orders-likely something to with that business in New Reno, the dates would be about right-modified them slightly, then used the coded authorizations to issue quite different orders of their own to the TMX engineering department," "That's preposterous!" Horus groped in empty air, looking for a cigar on his RL desk Ptah was a little more cautious "But we have never known that about your authorizations, Chairman Isn't that isn't that a little convenient?" Osiris laughed again "Bring up all the records you want Let us have a really good look at prior authorizations Then tell me I'm wrong." Ptah and Horus glanced at each other At the long table in the Western Palace they were silent, but the Lord of the Two Lands felt quite sure that conversation on the sidebar channel had suddenly become white-hot When they finally took the vote an hour later, it was unanimous: even Ptah and Horus displayed the good grace-or political savvy-to vote for his retention as chairman Osiris was well pleased Both Americans had received heavy blows to their ambition, and would be on the defensive for some time First their own systems had apparently been penetrated, then they had been seen to blame that on their venerable chairman He particularly enjoyed ordering Horus to shore up his security, and to get to work locating and defining the incursion "And while you're at it, excise those two." He indicated Miller and Shoemaker, neither of whom was now capable of making anything but bubbling noises "I suggest a car accident A couple of work chums on their way to some dreadful TMX morale-raising picnic You know the sort of thing." Ptah acceded with stiff grace, passing a message to his security service The two sims disappeared, which gave the room a far more pleasant aspect As Khepera rose to his hind legs and began delivering the first of what promised to be a string of testimonials to the re-elected chairman-establishing to the best of his dung-rolling ability that he had never once doubted, that he had been astonished by the charges, and so on-the god received a signal on a designated outside line His priestly minion, forced to dispense with honorifics after the first few singsong phrases, announced that Anubis had an urgent message for him His absent attention unnoticed by the others, Osiris received his underling's report while the beetle-man droned on His young minion seemed strangely calm, which troubled Osiris slightly After such a triumph, Dread should have been at his strutting worst Had he come across something in Atasco's records which had given him ideas? There was also the issue of the actual adversary, the person who had so cleverly subverted TMX security and freed Paul Jonas That would have to be the subject of many hours' contemplation all by itself Still, Osiris had known there was an enemy out there somewhere, and in a way was glad of it The Americans had certainly proved an insufficient challenge When Anubis had finished his report and signed off, Osiris raised his gauze-shrouded hand for silence Khepera stopped, his tribute uncompleted; he stood awkwardly for a moment, then lowered himself back into his chair "Thank you, my dear friend, for those inspiring words," the god said "I will never forget them But now I have an announcement to make I have just received word that the Sky God Project has come to a successful conclusion 'Shu' has been neutralized, along with his intimate circle, and we have possession of his system Losses-of information-were negligible, and cleanup is finished In short, a complete success." The Western Palace echoed with cheers and congratulations, some of them sincere "I think today is an auspicious day to declare that we have begun the final phase of the Grail Project." He raised his other hand The walls of the Western Palace fell away The Ennead were now seated in the midst of an endless, twilit plain "In only a matter of weeks our work will be completed and the fruits of our long labor available at last The Grail system is about to become operational Now we are truly become gods!" A red shimmer appeared along the far horizon Osiris spread his arms as if he had summoned it into being-as, in fact, he had There was a dramatic rumble of tympanis, a thundering crescendo of percussion "Rejoice, Brotherhood Our day has come!" The great disk of the rising sun edged upward into the heavens, bleaching the sky, scattering gold across the plains, and bathing the hungry, upraised animal faces in fire The docks were only a short distance from the broad front steps of the palace, perhaps less than half a mile judging by the rigging lights that glimmered between the buildings Orlando and his new allies did their best to form a coherent group before setting off on foot This scans utterly! Orlando fumed This is a VR simulation, the most powerful one anyone's ever heard of-and we're going to walk! But any loopholes for instantaneous travel or other useful realitymolding tricks that might be built into the structure of Temilún were lost to Orlando and his new allies If we only had one of the Atascos with us They marched as quickly as they could, just beneath the threshold at which their anxious haste would be obvious The city was busy at this early evening hour, the streets full of traffic, motorized and pedal-driven, the stone sidewalks crowded with Temilúni citizens on their way home from work But even in this crush of pseudohumanity, the band of travelers attracted attention It wasn't that surprising, Orlando decided-there were few cities, virtual or otherwise, where someone as flamboyantly outrageous as Sweet William would not at least briefly draw the eye Tall Renie fell in beside him again "Do you think Sellars meant that as soon as we get on the water we'll cross over into another simulation? Or are we going to have to sail for days?" Orlando shook his head "I can't even guess." "What's to keep them from catching us on the river?" Fredericks asked, leaning in at Orlando's shoulder "I mean, they're not going to leave that throne room alone forever, and when they go looking ." He stopped, his eyes widening "Fenfen! For that matter, what happens if we get killed here?" "You drop offline," Renie began, then paused The baboon, loping along beside her on all fours, looked up "You are thinking that if we cannot go offline now, there is no guarantee that dying a virtual death will change that?" he asked "Or are you considering something worse?" She shook her head violently "It's just not possible It can't be Pain is one thing-that could just be hypnotic suggestion-even induced comas I will believe, but I really don't want to believe that something happening to you in VR could kill you ." She stopped again "No," she said firmly, as if putting something in a drawer and shutting it "We'll have time to talk about everything later None of this is useful now." They hurried on in silence Since the tall downtown buildings were now blocking the view of the water, Fredericks ran ahead to scout Surfing along on the surreality of the moment, Orlando found that he was staring at Renie's baboon friend "What's your name?" he asked the simulated monkey "!Xabbu." There was a click and then a swallowing sound it the beginning Orlando couldn't tell whether the first letter was supposed to be a G, an H, or a K "And you are Orlando." The look on his face might have been a baboon smile Orlando nodded He was sure the person behind the monkey had an interesting story to tell, but he didn't have the strength to wonder about it very much Later, as Renie had said Later there would be time to talk If there is a later Fredericks was hurrying back toward them "It's just around the corner," he said "The boat's all lit up What if it's not ready to go, Orlando?" "It's ready to go," he said curtly He had no idea, but he was damned if he was going to give these people anything else to worry about "I saw it when they were bringing us in." Fredericks gave him a doubtful look but kept silent "Tchi seen, tchi seen, man," muttered the robot sim dolefully, fingering his own anodized neck in search of his 'can "They gonna catch us, some harm This dire, man, this far dire." The barge was moored at its own dock, a single bright flower of pomp and colorful decoration amid the brutal functionalism of the working side of the harbor Looking at the graceful ship, Orlando felt the weakness in his limbs recede a little, the dull pain in his head abate The barge would take them away where their enemies couldn't find them There would be time to rest, to recover his strength Renie was looking back over Orlando's shoulder, her finger wagging in the air as though she were conducting a very small orchestra "What are you doing?" Fredericks asked "Counting There are nine of us Is that right, or were there more when we left the palace?" Fredericks shook his head "I don't know I didn't think about it" "We should have." Renie was clearly angry, but it seemed to be at herself "We may have lost people along the way." "Can't worry about it," Orlando said flatly "Let's just hope there's someone on board who knows how to make the thing go." As if in answer, a group of figures began gathering at the top of the ramp that led onto the barge from the dockside stairs As Renie gathered the travelers at the ramp's base, two of the figures on the ship detached themselves from the rest and came down the gangway toward them One looked like a reasonably high muckamuck, his cape thatched in silver fish scales Orlando wondered for a moment if he were the captain, but decided that no one could spend a life at sea and have such unweathered skin The other man, a noncom in a small plain cape who was clearly the Temilúni navy's equivalent of a bone-breaker, had another of those large and unpleasant stone axes in his belt and some kind of pearl-handled pistol sheathed on the other hip Renie held up the ring "We have been sent by the God-King, He gave us this and commanded that you take us where we want to go." The official leaned forward to inspect the ring while keeping his hands respectfully at his side "It certainly looks like the signet of He Who Is Favored Above All Others And who, may I ask, are you?" "We are a delegation from ." Renie hesitated "The Banana Republic," said Orlando hastily "Sent to request a boon from He Who Is Favored Above All Others." He looked up At the top of the gangway, the dozen waiting sailors were managing simultaneously to stand at rigid attention and to watch the proceedings with interest "Now we are being sent back with a message for our masters." "The Ba ." The official shook his head as though it were all too much for him "Still, it is very strange we have not been warned." "The God-King-I mean, He Who Is Favored Above All Others-only made the decision a very short while ago ." Renie began "Of course." The official bowed "I will contact the palace to receive my clearance Please forgive me-I cannot allow you on board until that has been done I apologize deeply and abjectly for the inconvenience." Renie looked helplessly down at !Xabbu, then to Orlando Orlando shrugged, fighting a great and depressing weariness He had half-known something like this would happen-that he could not wear the Thargor sim without inheriting certain responsibilities He leaned a little closer toward the bonebreaker The pistol was on the man's other hip, out of reach Regretfully, Orlando curled his fingers around the stone ax and snatched it out of the belt even as he shouldered the startled noncom off the gangplank "Grab him," he said, shoving the official toward Renie and the others The sailors at the top of the gangway, bellowing in surprise, had drawn their own sidearms Orlando was gambling that they would not shoot for fear of harming this obviously important man However, he couldn't afford to let them start thinking about alternative methods of capture "Follow me," he called, already sprinting up the ramp "What are you doing?" Fredericks shouted Orlando didn't answer If there was anything he knew about, it was virtual combat, and his own personal Lesson One was "Avoid Unnecessary Chitchat." Now he just had to pray that some of the Thargor sim's designated strength and speed remained despite his own illness and the strictures of an unfamiliar system "Help him!" Fredericks was shouting down below "They'll kill him!" Orlando leaped from the top end of the gangway and hit the deck rolling, upending the first two sailors He brought the ax around in a swift arc and felt the sickening give of blade on bone as he shattered another sailor's kneecap, but he could already feel stickiness in his own usually fluid reflexes The three bodies writhing on the deck around him gave him a moment's desperately needed cover What little strength he had, and it was less than he was used to in this sim, was draining fast; already his breath was stinging in his lungs As he got to his knees, someone jumped onto his back, bearing him down so hard that his forehead cracked against the deck For a moment he felt his limbs go uncontrollably limp, but he forced himself to pull his legs under him once more and rise to a crouch The man on his back was trying to snake an arm around his neck As Orlando fought to hold him off, a hand with a gun in it swung down close to his face Orlando smashed at it with the ax and was rewarded with a howl of pain; the gun skittered away, under the railing and into the water He ducked his head, throwing the man on his back to the deck, then grabbed at the belt of the man he'd kneecapped a few moments before and tugged his pistol out of its holster Shadows were all around him, closing in The urge to start firing, to clear away these threatening figures, was very powerful, but they were so much more convincingly human than his usual foes that he found himself almost fatally reluctant He tossed the gun down the ramp "Grab it!" he gasped, hoping one of his companions would see it lying on the dark gangway He didn't know if he'd been loud enough to be heard; his head was filling with echoes Several more men seized the chance and grabbed at his legs and arms Another fell on top of him, jabbing a knee into his back and closing strong fingers on his throat Struggling, he managed to throw off a few of his attackers, but more crashed down on top of him in their place He fought wildly to rise, but only managed to turn over, face to the sky as he sucked desperately for air The lights in the barge's rigging stretched and wavered as the blackness in his head grew, as though they were stars sending their dying flare into the eternal night of space It's funny, he thought Stars, lights none real all real Something was hammering on his head, a dull, rhythmic thump that seemed to rattle his whole skull Each pounding beat sent a splash of blackness through his thoughts, the tidal mark higher each time He heard someone shouting-the woman, what was her name? It didn't matter The breath, the life was being pressed out of him, and he was glad to let it go He had been so tired, so very tired He thought he heard Fredericks calling him, but he could not answer That at least was a little sad Fredericks would have loved the lights-stars, they were stars, weren't they?-would have loved how bravely they burned in the darkness He would miss Fredericks He was in a place-a between-place, it seemed A waiting-place, maybe He couldn't really think about the whole thing very well, and it didn't matter just now anyway He was lying down, he knew that, but he was also standing, looking out across a great canyon A massive slope of shiny blackness dropped sheerly away below him, its bottom edge invisible in a sea of swirling fog On the far side of the canyon, dimly visible through the tendrils of rising mist, was the golden city But somehow it was not the same city he had seen before-this city's buildings were taller and stranger than anything he could have imagined, and tiny radiant shapes flitted back and forth among the spiraling towers, brilliant specks of light that might have been fireflies Or angels It's another dream, he thought, and was startled to hear he had said it aloud Surely he should not speak here-someone was listening, he knew, someone or something who was looking for him, someone he did not want to meet "It's not a dream," a voice said in his ear He looked around, startled Sitting on a glossy outcrop of the smooth black substance was an insect the size of a small dog It was made entirely of glittering silver wires, but was somehow completely alive "It's me, boss," it said "I've been trying to reach you for hours I've got you amplified all the way and I can barely hear you." "What's ." It was so hard to think The cottony fog had somehow got inside his head as well "Where ." "Hurry up, boss, tell me what you want If anyone comes in and catches me sitting on your chest, they're gonna throw me into the recycler," A thought, small and fluttery as the distant lights, moved through his mind "Beezle?" "Tell me What's going on?" He fought to remember "I'm I'm trapped somewhere I can't get out I can't get back." "Where, boss?" He struggled against the waves of numbness, of darkness The distant city was gone now and the fog was rising He was having trouble seeing even the insect, though it sat only an arm's length away "The place I was looking for." He wanted to remember a name, a man's name, something with an A ? "Atasco," he said The effort was overwhelming A moment later the insect had faded Orlando was left alone with the mist and the mountainside and the growing dark CHAPTER 39 Blue Fire NETFEED/ENTERTAINMENT: Second Thoughts On Second Sight? (visual: opening montage from "Here It Comes!") VO: Celebrity psychic Fawzi Robinette Murphy, host of the popular net shows "Second Sight" and "Here It Comes!" has announced that she is retiring because she has foreseen "the end of the world." (visual: Murphy climbing into limousine) When asked how this differs from previous apocalypses she has predicted, Murphy was brief and to the point (visual: Murphy affront gate of Gloucestershire home) MURPHY: "Because this time it's really going to happen." The coastline gliding past, thick jungle greenery and long-rooted trees drinking at the edges of sandbars, was not entirely strange to her-Renie had seen places along the African coast that looked only a little different What troubled her now, as she watched a flock of flamingos descending to a salt marsh like an air squadron returning to base, their brilliant pinks dulled by twilight, was the knowledge that none of it was real It's simply too much to accept It's seductive, that's what it is She leaned over the rail The fresh wind cooled all of her but the parts of her face covered by her Vtank mask Even this curious numbness-a kind of tactile blind spot, dead to the world she saw all around her-was beginning to recede, as though her brain were beginning to fill in the experiences, just as with a real ocular blind spot At certain moments, she could swear she did feel wind on her face It was difficult not to admire the completeness of this dream, the incredible skill and effort that had gone into it She had to remind herself that Atasco, the man who had caused this wonder to be built, was perhaps the best of Otherland's feudal barons He, arrogant and self-involved though he was, had at least had the basic humanity not to harm anyone in pursuit of his own satisfaction The others She thought of Stephen's beautiful brown legs atrophied, his arms now like slender sticks; she remembered Susan's shattered body The others who had built this place were monsters They were ogres living in castles built from the bones of their victims "I have a terrible confession, Renie." "!Xabbu! You startled me." "I am sorry." He clambered onto the railing beside her "Do you wish to hear my shameful thought?" She put a hand on his shoulder Resisting the impulse to pet him, she simply let it lie there in his thick fur "Of course." "Since I first came to this place, I have of course been worried for our safety, and frightened of the larger evil that the Sellars man described But almost as strong in me, all this time, there has been a great joy." Renie was suddenly unsure where this was going "Joy?" He pivoted on his rear end and stretched a long arm toward the darkening coastline, a curiously unbaboonlike gesture "Because I have seen now that I can make my dream real Whatever evil these people have done, or intend to do-and my heart tells me it is a very great evil indeed-they have also caused an amazing thing to be created With such power, I think I could truly keep my people alive." Renie nodded slowly "That's not a shameful thought But this kind of power-well, people who have something like this aren't going to give it away They keep it for themselves Just like they always have." !Xabbu did not reply As the last daylight vanished they remained at the railing together, watching the river and the coast become one inseparable shadow beneath the stars Sweet William appeared to be taking a perverse pleasure in his role "Just like Johnny Icepick, me." He waved the gun menacingly at the captain and the God-King's naval adjutant, the official who had met them at the gangway The two cringed "It's not my normal line, dearies, but I could develop a taste for it." Renie wondered which scared the Temilúnis more, the gun or William's death-clown appearance "How far are we from the end of the waters you know?" she asked the captain He shook his head He was a small man, beardless as all the others, but his face was covered with black tattoos and he wore an impressively large stone lip-plug "Over and over you ask that There is no end On the far side of these waters is the Land of Pale Men If we continue along the coast as we are doing, we will cross the Caribbean," Renie heard her translation software pause for a split-instant before supplying the name, "and come to the empire of the Mexica There is no end." Renie sighed If, as Atasco had said, there was a finite edge to the simulation, then the Puppets themselves must not know it Perhaps they simply ceased to be, then reappeared on their "return voyage," filled with suitable memories Of course, the same thing could be true for me And how would I ever know? As difficult as it was to look at the coastline and believe it a purely digital reality, it was even harder to imagine the captain and the king's adjutant as artificial A coastline, even one filled with exuberant vegetable life, could be created fractally, although this level of sophistication beggared anything she had ever seen But people? How could even the most sophisticated programming, the most strenuously evolutionary A-life environments create such diversity, such seeming authenticity? The captain had bad teeth, stained from chewing some leafy herb He wore what was obviously a favored knicknack, a fish vertebra, on a chain around his thick neck The adjutant had a port wine birthmark just behind his ear and smelled of licorice water "Are you married?" she asked the captain He blinked "I was Retired because she wanted me to, stayed ashore for three years in Quibdo Couldn't take it, so I reenlisted She left me." Renie shook her head A sailor's tale, so common as to be almost a cliché But by the slight bitterness in his voice, like scar tissue around an old wound, he clearly believed it And every single person in this simulation-in all the unguessable number of simulations that made up this Otherlandwould have his or her own tale Each one would believe himself to be alive and singular It was too much to comprehend "Do you have any idea how to make this ship work?" she asked Sweet William "Dead simple, really." He smiled lazily and stretched Hidden bells jingled "It's got a bit of a handle Push, pull, forward, back-could it in me sleep." "Then we'll put these two and the rest of the crew overboard." She was startled by the adjutant's violent reaction for a moment, then realized the misunderstanding "In the lifeboats There seem to be plenty." "Aye, aye." William saluted jauntily "Whenever you're ready, Admiral." The bed in He Who Is Favored Above All Others' massive stateroom was of a size commensurate with celestial royalty Martine and Orlando lay at either edge where they could be reached by those caring for them, with a dozen-foot expanse of silken sheets between them Orlando was sleeping, but Renie didn't think it was a healthy sleep The big man's breath rasped in and out through his gaping mouth and the muscles in his fingers and face twitched She laid her palm against his broad forehead, but felt nothing any more unusual than the mere fact of virtual tactility !Xabbu clambered up onto the bed and touched the man's face, but he seemed to have a different purpose in mind than Renie had, for he left his delicate simian hand there for a long time "He looks very sick," Renie said "He is." The slender man named Fredericks looked up from his seat by Orlando's side "He's real sick." "What is it? Is it something he caught outside-in RL, I mean? Or is it some effect from coming into the network?" Fredericks shook his head morosely "He's got something bad In real life It's a disease where you get old too soon-he told me the name, but I forgot" He rubbed at his eyes; when he spoke again, his voice was faint "I think right now he's got pneumonia He said he said he was dying." Renie stared at the sleeping man's almost cartoonish face, the square jaw and long black hair Even after only a short acquaintance, the thought of his death was painful; she turned away, helpless and miserable Too many victims, too many suffering innocents, not enough strength to save any of them Quan Li, who had been holding Martine's hand, stood up as Renie walked around the perimeter of the huge bed "I wish there was something more I could for your friend She is a little quieter now I thought of offering her some water ." She trailed off There was no need to finish Martine, like everyone else, must be receiving nourishment and hydration in the real world If not, nothing the Chinese woman or anyone else could would help Renie sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her hand around Martine's The Frenchwoman had not spoken a word all the way to the ship, and after Sweet William had snatched up the gun which Orlando had tossed away, and pressed it against the adjutant's head to secure their passage on the barge, Martine had collapsed Renie had carried her on board with Quan Li's help-it had taken three of the sailors to carry bulky Orlando-but there was nothing else she could think of to Whatever was afflicting Martine was even more mysterious than the young man's ailment "We're going to put the captain and crew into boats and set them free," Renie said after a while "Are there enough of us to run the ship?" Quan Li asked "William says it pretty much sails itself, but I suppose we need enough people to keep watch." Frowning, she thought for a moment "What did I say we were? Nine?" She turned !Xabbu was still crouched beside Orlando, his hands splayed on the big man's chest His patient seemed to be resting a little more easily "Well, there's the six of us in here There's William, although he almost counts for two." She smiled wearily, for Quan Li's benefit as much as her own "The robot man-what did he call himself, T-Four-B or something? And the woman who went up the rigging to keep watch Yes, nine Besides, having a full crew would matter more if we had some idea where we were going ." She broke off as she realized that the gentle pressure on her fingers was becoming stronger Martine's eyes were open, but still unfixed "Renie ?" "I'm here We're on the ship We're hoping to be out of this Temilún simulation soon." "I'm I'm blind, Renie." She forced the words out with great effort "I know, Martine We'll our best to find a way to ." She was stopped by a very hard squeeze "No, you not understand I am blind Not just here I have been blind for a very long time." "You mean in your real life?" Martine nodded slowly "But I have there are modifications on my system that allow me to read my way through the net I see the data in my own way." She paused; speaking was obviously difficult "In some ways, it has made me better at what I than if I had sight, you understand? But now everything is very bad." "Because of the information rate, like you said?" "Yes I since I have come here, it is like people screaming in both my ears, like I am being blown in a great wind I cannot ." She brought trembling hands up to her face "I am going mad Ah, may the good Lord save me, I am going mad." Her face contorted, although no tears came to the sim's eyes Her shoulders began to shake Renie could only hold her as she wept Two large lifeboats held the ship's three dozen crew fairly comfortably Renie stood on the deck, feeling the shudder of the engine beneath her feet, and watched the last sailor drop from the ladder into the boat, black pigtail flying "Are you sure you don't want another lifeboat?" she called down to the captain "You'd be less crowded." He looked up at her, plainly unable to comprehend this kind of soft-hearted piracy "It is not far to shore We will be fine." He mumbled his lip plug for a moment, contemplating an indiscretion "You know, the patrol boats have only remained at a distance to protect the lives of the crew They will stop you and board you within minutes after we are safe." "We're not worried." Renie tried to sound confident, but of all their company only !Xabbu seemed truly calm The small man had found a long piece of twine in the captain's cabin and was blithely constructing one of his intricate string figures Renie's intention to release the hostages before the ship reached the simulation's edge had been the subject of long discussion, but she had been adamant She would not risk taking the Temilúni out of their world Perhaps the Otherland machinery would not compensate for them in this peculiar circumstance, and they would then cease to exist It would be no better than mass murder The captain shrugged and sat down He signaled to one of his men to start the engine The boat glided forward and then began to pick up speed, chugging along after the adjutant's boat, which was already only a white dot against the darkness A beam of light cut through the fog from the far side of the barge, flicking across the undraped mast "Well, there they are, chuck," said William He held up his confiscated pistol and looked at it sadly "This won't be much use against the Royal Featherhead Navy, now will it?" More lights appeared, these fixed like low-slung stars Several large vessels were coming up fast behind them One of them blew a long deep note on a steam-whistle, a sound that vibrated in Renie's bones !Xabbu had put down his string "Perhaps we should consider ." He never had a chance to finish his suggestion Something whistled past them and splashed into the water off the bow A moment later a globe of fire bloomed in the deeps, fountaining the coastal waters and releasing a sullen thump as the sound reached the surface "They're shooting at us," shouted Fredericks from one of the hatchways Renie was silently commending him for obviousness under combat conditions when she noticed that the exploding shell had left some kind of unexpected aftereffect in the depths before them The waters sparkled with glittering points of neon blue Renie caught her breath She struggled to remember the name of the robot Goggleboy currently in the barge's wheel-house, but could not "Tell what's-his-name full speed ahead!" she screamed "I think we're there!" Another shell arched overhead and slashed into the water, nearer this time The impact made the barge rock so that Renie and William had to grab at the railing Slowly, though, she could feel the ship picking up speed She leaned over, squinting at the dark swells Surely the sparkling blue light was brighter now It looked like an entire school of some exotic bioluminescent fishes had surrounded the royal barge Something exploded directly beneath them The entire front end of the barge lifted up, as though shoved from beneath by a giant hand Renie fell to the deck and slid The barge tipped sideways; then, like a living creature, it seemed to find its center of balance, and dropped back down into a trough between waves The water rising around them seemed pulsingly alive with blue light It was alive, it was electrically active, radiant and throbbingly, brilliantly, vital All the sounds of sea and ship and exploding shells abruptly stopped In perfect silence and an absolute blue glow, they passed through Renie's first thought was that they were caught in the timeless instant of an explosion, stuck in the dreary heart of a quantum event that would never end The bright light, more white than blue now, dazzled her so that she had to shut her eyes against the pain When she carefully opened them a moment later, the light was still there, but she realized it was only the brilliance of an ordinary daytime sky They had left the night behind them in Temilún Her second thought was that the last explosion had blown the entire top off the barge They still bobbed on the water, and the coastline-now revealed in crystal-clear daylight and full of startlingly huge trees as wide and tall as skyscrapers-was very visible, but there was no longer a railing to look over Renie realized she was on her knees, clutching at something curving and fibrous and as thick as her arm that stretched where the railing had been She dragged herself around so she could look back at where the rest of the barge had been, the wheel-house, the royal apartment Her companions were lying in the center of something that was large and flat, but otherwise nothing like a barge-something ribbed and dimpled like a giant piece of modern sculpture, something that curled at the edges and was as stiffly yielding as crocodile hide beneath Renie's hand "!Xabbu?" she said "Are you all right?" "We have all survived." He still wore his baboon body "But we ." Renie lost the rest of his sentence in a growing drone from somewhere above She stared at the flat expanse upon which they all lay, at the almost ragged shape of its edges where they curled up from the water, and realized what the thing they were floating on looked like Not a boat at all, but "A leaf?" The droning was growing louder and louder, making it hard to think The huge trees on the distant shoreline It made a sort of sense, then-they were not a trick of distortion and distance But was the place itself too large, or were she and her companions ? The sound rattled in her ears Renie looked up to see something the size of a single-engine airplane glide overhead, hover for a moment so that the wind almost knocked her flat, and then speed away again, wings glinting like stained glass in the bright, bright sun It was a dragonfly Jeremiah found him going through the cabinets in the kitchen for perhaps the dozenth time, looking for something that both of them knew was not there "Mr Sulaweyo?" Renie's father tugged open another door and began shoving industrial-sized cans and heat-sealed ration packs out of his way, working with ragged intensity When he had cleared a hole, he reached in until his armpit was pressing into the front of the shelf and groped in the darkness at the back of the cabinet "Mr Sulaweyo Joseph." He turned to stare at Jeremiah, his eyes red-rimmed "What you want?" "I want a little help I've been sitting at the console for hours If you'll take a turn, I can make us something to eat." "Don't want nothing to eat." Long Joseph turned back to his search After a moment he cursed, retracted his arm, then began the same process on the next shelf down "You don't have to eat, then, but I In any case, that's your daughter in that tank, not mine." A canister of soy meal tipped off the shelf and thumped onto the floor Long Joseph continued to scrabble in the space at the back of the shelf "Don't you tell me about my daughter I know who's in that tank." Jeremiah Dako made a noise of angry frustration and turned to go He stopped in the doorway "I'm not going to sit there forever staring at those screens I can't And when I fall asleep, nobody will be checking their heart rates, nobody will be watching in case the tanks go wrong." "God damn!" A line of plastic sacks slid off the shelf and toppled One broke, puffing a sulfurous spray of powdered egg across the cement floor "God damn this place!" Long Joseph swept more sacks from the shelf, then muscled a can up over his head and flung it down so hard it bounced before coming to rest against the rear wall An ooze of syrup trickled from beneath the crumpled lid "What the hell kind of place is this?" he shouted "How someone supposed to live like this, in some goddamn cave in the ground?" Long Joseph lifted another can as though to throw it and Jeremiah flinched, but instead he lowered it again, staring at it as though it had just been handed to him by a visitor from outer space "Look at this craziness," he said, holding it out for Jeremiah to examine Jeremiah did not move "Look, it say 'Corn Porridge.' They got goddamn mielie pap in ten gallon cans! Enough porridge to choke an elephant, but they don't got even one beer." He laughed harshly and dropped the can on the floor It rolled ponderously against a cabinet door "Shit I want a drink I am so dry." Wide-eyed, Jeremiah shook his head "There's nothing here." "I know that I know But sometimes a man just have to look." Long Joseph looked up from the mess on the floor He seemed on the verge of tears "You say you want to sleep, go sleep Show me what to with that goddamn machine." " That's all Heartbeat and body temperature are really the important things You can bring them out just by pushing this-it lifts the tank covers-but your daughter said not to it unless they were really in trouble." Long Joseph stared at the two cable-draped sarcophagi, both now standing upright "I can't take this," he said at last "What you mean?" There was an edge of irritation in Jeremiah's voice "You said you'd watch for me-I am exhausted." The other man didn't seem to hear him "It's just like Stephen Just like my boy She right there, but I can't touch her, can't help her, can't anything." He scowled "She right there, but I can't anything." Jeremiah stared at him for a moment His face softened He put his hand gently on Long Joseph's shoulder "Your daughter is trying to help She's very brave." Joseph Sulaweyo shrugged the hand away, his eyes fixed on the tanks as though he could see through the dense fibramic shells "She one damn fool, what she is She think just because she go to the university she know everything But I tried to tell her these weren't people to mess about with She wouldn't listen None of them listen, they never do." His face suddenly crumpled and he blinked at tears "All the children gone All the children gone away." Jeremiah started to reach out again, then pulled back his hand After a long silence, he turned and made his way to the elevator, leaving the other man alone with the silent tanks and the bright screens .. .OTHERLAND Volume One CITY OF GOLDEN SHADOW Tad Williams CONTENTS Title Dedication Acknowledgements Author's Note Foreword Table of Contents UNIVERSE NEXT DOOR Mister... Gilbert and Betsy Wollheim For more information, visit the Tad Williams web site at: www.tadwilliams.com Author's Note The aboriginal people of Southern Africa are known by many names-San, Basarwa,... vent He stank of electricity and grinned a row of concrete tombstones "GUESTS MAY NOT LEAVE BEFORE I CAN ENTERTAIN THEM." Paul felt the bones of his skull vibrate from the power of the Old Man's