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SB: Martin: Gambits in New Cydonia

"And now I'll disconnect us." Noys says. "Until then, cousin."

And Ederyn and Noys softly and silently vanish away...

“The probability that Princess Noys has trump training is greater than 90%” Godfrey observes, once Noys and her brother disconnect themselves from the virtual trump space. “I do not know how to characterize her brother. Martin.” A whirr of gears. “A strange mixture of competence, and only moderate education.”

“Did we wish to contact another of the Royal Family while the space is active?” Godfrey asks.

Martin ponders. "We'd better check up on how things are going here," he says. "Almost feels like things have happened too easy, don't you think? We could hijack a satellite and check on the wasps, or check on the finish and delivery of the structures, or check on security to make sure nobody's on to us yet, or even just rest while we can. Or I can, sorry."

"There is basic maintenance and repair that I can perform while you rest, Martin." Godfrey says. "I have noticed a 0.3% degradation in processing thought time and speed of motion; such repairs can be accomplished while you rest."

"I would suggest monitoring the Wasps; their fanaticism may lead to unexpected actions on their part that they believe in accordance with your orders. I cannot calculate a probability of their doing so. However, I believe it is a large enough chance to warrant our attention."

"Me, too," Martin says. "They had me worried enough when we left that they deserve a looking-after. 'Course, they'll have disabled and hijacked all the webcams around them; to get a decent look, we'll have to take over a satellite for a short time."

"I would suggest that you get rest while I perform basic maintenance." Godfrey says after a few moments thought.

"Upon waking, Martin, we can monitor the Wasps remotely by means of a satellite connection, and take any corrective actions, or plan for them, as needed. If I have the opportunity to do so before you awaken, I can monitor the outputs of the production we have requested. Or would you prefer that I monitor our security concerns?"

Martin is already stretching out on the couch. "See if you can do all three," he says sleepily. "I'd set up slave programs to handle the extra work, but I'm interested to learn how you'd do it."

Godfrey pauses a moment, the whirr of gears the only sound to be heard.

"It would be a challenge and establish parameters on my capabilities." Godfrey finally says. "I will perform basic maintenance and then attempt to do all three tasks." he says.

"Sleep well, Martin." he says.

Martin's sleep is thankfully unperturbed, externally or internally. When he finally does waken, without the benefit of mechanical aid, Godfrey, or anything else, a quick check of a nearby clock tells him that 10.1 hours have elapsed. He feels rested and refreshed. Godfrey immediately springs to action, however, walking over as Martin gets the sleep out of his eyes and comes to consciousness.

"I discovered monitoring software in our apartment that allowed me to ensure you were sleeping properly." Godfrey says. "Although your sleep was long, Martin, the readouts were within parameters for proper sleep."

"I have information on our various projects and situations." he adds. "Nothing has reached what I deem a critical juncture, and so I judged there was a 57% chance giving you more rest was the correct course of action." His gears whirr. "Perhaps I can explain over your breakfast?"

"Sure. Let me see if I can dial up something edible." Martin smiles and sits up. "Most of the food starts out as algae, you know. Not terribly palatable, considering that algae that could grow here is programmed more for survival than it is to taste good."

The breakfast algae ragout that the apartment has on offer doesn't quite look like the breakfast casserole that they were going for, but it is proof that enough hot sauce and pepper is enough to disguise most tastes and textures, especially when both are cooked and baked in.

"The production of materials is on schedule to within a 2% variance." Godfrey says. "The manufacturing capacity of New Cydonia has been bent to the task. I have discovered some media speculations and discussion on the purposes of this. Our identities have not been compromised, although there are agents active trying to find if what we have done is newsworthy. There have been preliminary inquiries and investigations by the local government, but they have not reached the level of concern as yet. I estimate that both of these investigations will converge on us only after we have completed and taken delivery of materials, assuming no changes in timetable."

"I managed to temporarily gain control of a Argus class satellite and repurposed its attentions to where we met the Wasps." Godfrey turns on a 3-d projection, showing what was the wrecked badlands they had encountered Martin's former creations. The wrecked and destroyed buildings are far fewer in number. In point of fact, judging from the craters and other damage, it appears a small scale war has taken place. There are shells of destroyed wasps on the ground, being quickly reclaimed.

"It appears five to eight factions are engaged in conflict with each other, in some sort of timed or ritualistic fashion." Godfrey says. "They war for 5.4 kiloseconds, and then regroup and rest for 3.6 kiloseconds. They are in such a period now and will exit it in 200 seconds."

"Nothing like a holy war to remind you that you've got fanatical troops on your side," Martin says. "We're going to have to watch that, Godfrey. We can't stop them from being fanatics, but we can't let them get out of control around the other troops when we meet the Omphalos."

"Agreed, Martin." Godfrey says. "Attacking allied troops would diminish their overall utility to unacceptable levels. General Benedict would not be pleased." He pauses a beat, in thought. The gears whirr quietly for a moment and then Godfrey resumes his thought. "How would we best diminish this tendency, Martin? There are too many to program individually. A broadcast neurocode or idea virus to limit their aggression? The power of your own persuasion as their Creator and God?"

"I was thinking the latter," Martin says. "I should have considered the former, especially as a backup plan. A code would work faster than a virus, but the virus last longer. I have a pretty good idea on how that would work, too, if the wasps haven't mutated beyond it."

"I do not have enough data to run the probabilities." Godfrey says. "It is likely, however, that any solution that we implement will eventually be selected out if it is not of sufficient value in increasing reproductive fitness. We will have to be careful in the design of such a neurocode, Martin. Parallels to symbiotic and commensalistic relationships between animals and other organisms might prove useful as a model to design it, as well as basic McLuhanian and Barnesian principles of idea formation."

"Shall we begin the design after you have finished breakfast? Do we need to capture any of the wasps as a test bed, or would you prefer a virtual modeling scheme?"

"After breakfast, yes," Martin says. "I'm leery of capturing wasps, seems to me that they might have some kind of communication thing between them, or worse, testing will alter their scent or something and put the others on their guard. We should do a virtual modeling and take our chances, I think that's an acceptable risk. I remember most of the important stuff dealing with their physiology from way back when. I think."

"Understood, Martin." Godfrey says. "The evolution of the wasps sociology and physiology will mean that our models will necessarily have a degree of inherent inaccuracy."

He pauses at this point, letting the gears whir for a few moments in thought, watching Martin eat his breakfast. Finally, he speaks. "Are there any additional issues that should be addressed or accounted for in dealing with the wasps, Martin?"

"Yah," Martin smiles, knowing that they would eventually get to this. "The queens. They're the ones running the hives. Wasps, you know. They're in charge, they do the thinking. They set the policies. Chances are, though, we won't see one until we ask to see one. And they're the ones that we'll be targeting with the code."

"The course of action is clear, Martin." Godfrey says. "Assuming there is non-violent contact between the hives, and even given if there are, administration of the neurocode into one of the hives would lead to a spreading rate dependent on that level of contact, especially once saturation of an individual hive is accomplished. For best effect, we should demand audience with 3 Queens, which is the optimal number of hives to infect at start. Pareto analysis of the population once the neurocode spreads across the Wasps will be useful in tinkering with the effects and code itself, as well as having Wasps we can study to determine the negative outcomes for future generations."

"As their creator, the Queens cannot refuse audience with you." Godfrey says. "There is an unknown probability, however, that the Queens may request aid, assistance or the donation of epigenetic traits from you."

"And wouldn't that be fun," Martin says, "Though there wouldn't be any time for that. War is coming. Are you suggesting we design and throw in a neurocode before we head off to Benedict? Or design one and have it ready for an emergency? There will only be a limited number of hives coming along with us, after all."

Godfrey considers this for an eternity for his brain and gears, giving Martin a chance to finish up his breakfast. In the end, it is 126 seconds.

"Unmonitored spread of the neurocode amongst the hives here has a 26% probability of unforseen and unknown second-order effects of a negative nature, Martin. If we were to use the neurocode, we should design it for, and apply it only to, those hives that we take with us, and leave the hives here unaltered. This would also allow us the opportunity to have them as a control. In addition, it would give us a pool of Wasps that can act as a baseline if the neurocode itself proves to be deleterious. This analysis can and will be further refined after our virtual modeling of the neurocode."

"This forecast and analysis also includes the premise that you intend to continue use of the Wasps beyond the defeat of the Omphalos." Godfrey adds.

"That's not a given, but I can accept the possibility that I'll be using the wasps in the future," Martin says. "Okay. Listen." He rattles off an impressive list of numbers. "Pull up a virtual terminal, search for that file number, and open it here. That's the info we'll need to start designing a neurocode, including a lot of raw notes I put down about the psychology of giant wasps. We'll work on that until the work is finished on the metal fabrications and it's time to head out to the wasp victors. I'll want both you and me to memorize the code once it's developed."

Godfrey, with flawless accuracy, inputs the string, pulling up the basic lattice for the neurocode, gorgeously rendered in a nth generation CAD diagram that does indeed make it look much like a terrestrial virus. Once Martin is done with breakfast, the rest of the day is spent perfecting this neurocode, and into the beginning of the next.

By the end, Godfrey and Martin are making small tweaks, the former mainly with Martin's guidance, although Godfrey's sentience does allow him enough mental flexibility to suggest much more than brute-force tactics.

A notification tells Martin and Godfrey that the fabrication is complete, and simultaneously, a data-searching algorithm is trying to track down the purchaser of all that input, and is drawing perilously near.

"With 95 percent confidence, Martin" Godfrey says. "Our operation will be fully discovered and revealed within 49000 seconds."

Martin starts tinkering, and within half an hour has constructed a tiny doll of a greenish-skinned man with pointy ears. "Not that it's a terrible thing, but I don't like my movements out in the open like that. No, when the hackers and data-miners get close enough, I'll let this little guy get to work. It's a logic bomb. We should be long gone before it goes off."

"Agreed, Martin" Godfrey says. "We will undoubtedly need to change tactics if we require a return visit to New Cydonia. The data miners ability to compromise our systems will ramp up faster. It is also possible, but I do not have a probability, that the challenge of your systems will lead to an arms race in data mining and data security once we are gone. We may have inadvertently spurred their Noospheric evolution."

Godfrey pauses a bit, letting the gears whirr. "We are going to go visit the Wasps now?"

"Setting the trends everywhere, I guess," Martin says. "It's time, isn't it? Time to check on the winners and get the logistics in order for moving stuff. Also to check on the rendezvous with the metal parts and then head onward."

"I look forward to meeting the General in person." Godfrey says, giving one more, very human look at the data bomb that Martin has created. "I hope he will be pleased."

A check on the orders and the logistics for same reveals that, for reasonable rates, Martin can get the fabrication materials shipped to the designated point without much more than a single command to do so. There is fortunately enough transport capacity in New Cydonia that it will not really draw the data miners any faster than the time frame Godfrey predicted earlier.

While Martin makes arrangements for that, a quick check of satellite data by Godfrey, at the same time, reveals that the Wasps are assembling,clearly in anticipation of their creator's return.

Back ot the car it is, then, with Martin giving the instructions to ship the metal parts to the meeting place. He leaves the data bomb in the apartment , knowing that when it goes off nobody's going to be able to trace it there anyway. He does manage a, "Live long and prosper," in its general direction before they exeunt and head onwards towards the wasps.

The scene, once Martin and Godfrey fly to the wasteland/ruins where they met the Wasps for the first time, is significantly changed. A lot of the burned out ruins, buildings, wrecked vehicles and everything else has been cleaned up . Or, more like, scavenged and used for raw materials, components, and, Martin expects, clearing fields of fire in the combat and competition the Wasps undergone. The efficiency of his creations is noteworthy--there are no hulks or husks of Wasp corpses, anywhere, although surely the competition would have produced a prodigious number.

Also, the three shiny new hives standing in a cleared section of the ruin where the Smokestack used to be are definitely new, and definitely an increase in the quality of their accommodations from the last time. They look like a high-tech termite nest.

The sentinels at the edge of a defined perimeter intercept Martin and Godfrey effortlessly, and with a marked increased efficiency from the last time Martin encountered his creations. A small squad of the medium sized Wasps come up to Martin and Godfrey.

"The Greater and the Lesser Queen of Hive Alyx, of Hive Talon and of Hive Nyle. await your arrival." one of the Wasps chitters. "We await the approval of the Creator to have us Dissassemble Evil."

"Duarchy" Godfrey says. "A sociological development, Martin."

Martin looks around, pleased at how well his creations have learned to pick up after themselves. "Well, almost," he says to Godfrey. "A duarchy shares power equally, so you wouldn't expect to hear greater and lesser. But two queens over three hives, that's definitely new." He turns to the wasp that addressed them, and says, "Please, take us to the Queens, if they await us together. Or the Greater, if they are currently separate."

"They remain in council together." the wasp replies, chittering. The wasp moves toward the center of the three shining hives, the wasps parting and then forming a train and an honor guard around this wasp, Martin and Godfrey. The interior of the hive is as Martin might expect--a mud daub wasp nest writ extremely large, and with chromium steel and other reflective and shiny metal instead of mud and dirt. The layout goes pretty much as Martin expects, straight to the central chamber, filled with Wasps of all of sizes.

The Queens are the largest of the wasps yet, larger than the 3 feet long Martin expected as the maximum size of the wasp. The smaller (lesser?) of the two queens is about Martin's size, the larger of the two Queens is larger, maybe around the size of Uncle Gerard. Both of them also have a form that is bipedal and distinctly more anthropomorphic than their brethren.

"The creator!" the lesser queen chitters.

"The creator!" the larger queen acknowledges. "The creator has come, in his promise. We welcome the creator!"

This cry is taken up by the hive.

"Creator." the greater queen speaks after a minute of this reverberation. "We have strived and struggled to have the three greatest Hives prepared to serve you and Disassemble Evil." The last two words become the next refrain carried throughout the chamber. "We have developed an asymmetric suzerainty over the three hives."

"We await the Creator's approval, and any blessings he may give upon me or my sister queen, before we follow him to Disassemble Evil." the Greater Queen adds.

Martin is quiet a moment, then nods with absolute seriousness. "I am pleased," he says. "You have come Far, children. When the first glimmer came to me, the first inspirations of your race, even I did not foresee how much you would change, grow, evolve. You are greater than what you were. And you will become greater still. My blessings will come as we travel, as we march. We will find weapons and equipment. We will find technology for you to incorporate. I will be with you, all the way, to maximize the effect of these gifts. For now, I give you my blessing of words, such that it is, and the promise that you will have the tools and the power to disassemble evil when we confront it."

"The hives are prepared to depart and follow the Creator." The Greater Queen says. Her counterpart gives a nod of enthusiastic agreement and chitters in addition. "The hives await only your command to move. The Outlands are being scavenged for materials, parts and tech, though the sands wear them away."

"The blessings of the Creator will raise us higher and make us more able to Disassemble Evil"

"Will you give my sister queen and I a Blessing now?" the Greater Queen adds, leaning forward as she peers at Martin with high-capacity compound eyes. "So that we might transmit it to the Hives? We have evolved ourselves for the purpose in anticipation of your arrival, o mighty and totipotent Creator."

Martin glances at Godfrey, then back to the Greater Queen. The look can only be described as 'innocent'. "There are many blessings. What is the nature of the blessing that you wish to receive?"

If a anthropomorphic version of a Wasp can be said to smile, the Greater Queen of the Three Hives gives Martin a smile.

She speaks in a patter. Not so much rehearsed or taught as something that has been coded into their genome.

"The Creator is generous, for the Creator made us. The Creator is generous, for he will take us to Disassemble Evil. The Creator is generous, for he has shown us how to prove ourselves to him." The Greater Queen, and the Lesser Queen, now leaning forward, speak, not in a pattern and formula any longer. "We seek the Creator to bless us with his improved genetics so that our children will further improve and grow the Hives."

"If the Creator cannot bless both of us." the Greater Queen adds briskly. "As the Greater, the right would go to myself of course." The look of disappointment on the Lesser Queen at this is extremely human.

"Oh," Martin says, then his eyes widen a little. "Ooohhhhhh. I see. I really do appreciate the thinking, but did you plan through all the iterations? If memory serves, I programmed you queens with sixty-one diploid chromosomes with extra space for polytenes, and I gave the males thirty haploid. I've got twenty-three diploid, and one of them isn't autosomal. I could end up hitting you with some lethal mutation, and I wouldn't want to see that happen."

The Greater Queen releases a slight keening wail. "The perfection of the Creator's genetic pattern is something we have sought. We have assumed that you would have the genetic characteristics of a Queen, or the apotheosis of same. 23 chromosomes, and one incomplete sounds like a flawed design."

"If the Creator cannot improve us with his genetics in a direct fashion." The Greater Queen says. ""Would an indirect method of such advancement be possible, as we ourselves scavenge and improve technology?"

"Retroviral or plasmid infusion of genetic material, Martin." Godfrey whirrs. "I do not know how compatible or effective such a technique would be on your creations."

"Your automaton creator speaks truth." The Lesser Queen says. "Surely, as you made us, you can improve us. Even if not by the direct method."

"That, I can do." Martin smiles and moves forward, and dares to lay his hand upon first the Greater Queen, then the Lesser.

They accept the gesture, and watch Martin keenly as he speaks.

"You have the technology right here. I can give you gifts, and improve upon that which you already have. We'll work on it as we move." He squeezes them with his hands. "There's another reason I can't give you what you want directly. When people do this kind of thing, there's feelings between them. Love. It's not just a transfer of genetic material in the race to gain ascendancy over rivals. You, my creations, even if I could explain it to your satisfaction, you just work a different way, and there's nothing wrong with that. But humans... people... me, we're different. Without love, drones can never be men, and men can only be drones."

"We do not...understand." says the Greater Queen after a few moments of silence. "But it is not for us to understand the ways and methods of the Creator if they are not meant for us."

"Should we not aspire to the Creator's form and workings?" the Lesser Queen puts in.

"Not yet." The Greater Queen says, looking sidelong at her counterpart, and then looking at Martin directly. "Not yet." A beat. "We stand prepared for the purpose you have Gathered us. We only require to where we shall go, and when."

"Through hell," Martin says. "And we need to leave within the day, to meet the equipment we'll be carrying. I will take thee through strange and fearsome worlds, to a war at the end of the universe." There you will stand side-to-side with a ragtag army of men and creatures doing the same."

"We will build a magic gate in a place of power and take the fight to these invading demons in their own realm. And you, my children, will disassemble them, so they may never threaten us again."

The Queens, and the entire Hive are quiet for an interval that Godfrey measures as 9.3 seconds. The look of contemplation on the Queens 'faces' is the only thing that suggests to Martin that they have heard his words at all.

Finally, the Greater Queen speaks. "To the ends of the universe, to contain and destroy who enter it from without. To destroy those who would enter and contaminate reality. To take the fight to this Far Beyond, and there diassemble the forces of Chaos and Disorder. This we will do for our Creator."

The Lesser Queen adds. "A threat to the universe Entire, that threatens the well being of the Creator, is a threat to be met with all possible response, and all strength. The Three Hives will not fail in their duty to disassemble this trans-universal evil. This trans-universal evil will know the order of full disassembly and dissolution."

"To the end of the universe, to the border of the Far Beyond" the Greater Queen shrieks

"To the end of the universe, to the border of the Far Beyond" the Lesser Queen takes up the call.

The rest of the hive starts repeating and amplifiying this call.

Martin waits, satisfied, as the call increases and becomes more strident. "Let's pack our stuff," he says at the best moment he can judge. "It's time to make a difference."

"So it shall be." the Greater Queen stops her call, which has a life of its own at this point, and continues even without her input. A few moments later the Lesser Queen repeats this.

In about five minutes, the chanting has not only stopped, but the Hive around Martin and Godfrey is once again a flurry of activity, as the horde of metal insects has started to disassemble the Hive and all of its accouterments around them, from the top down. The Greater Queen departs the scene, presumably to marshal the other two Hives in similar fashion.

"At the rate of deconstruction, Martin" Godfrey says. "It will take less than eight hours for the Hive to be completely disassembled. Assuming the other Hives are dissassembled at a similar rate, the Wasps will be ready to leave less than an hour after that."

The lesser Queen sidles closer to Martin. "We only require the coordinates where the equipment of which you spoke, o Creator, awaits us.

"Or did you intend to lead us personally to the location?" she asks.

"That was my plan," Martin says. "This is now my home, until we reach our destination. How else will I have the chance to work on your first Modification?"

The Lesser Queen regards Martin for a moment and gives a human nod. "You will need Quarters until Diassembly is complete." she says. She scurries away and starts giving orders.

Over the next hour, a portion of the Wasps are diverted from the diassembly of the Hive, and are tasked, instead, to take some of those raw materials and fashion a space for Martin and Godfrey. The resulting place is not palatial, or even homely, it is more like an Quonset hut, with a fair number of benches and tables, and two beds.

"If there is anything else the Creator requires before Disassembly" the Lesser Queen chitters. "I will see to it being provided."

"Sure. I'll need lead-impregnated plastisteel shields, two centrifuges that can reach fifty thousand RPM, a sonic screwdriver with infra- and ultra-sonic capability..." Martin goes on with a reasonably short list, all from memory. "...and a tube of your internal fluids. And one from either queen. With a little luck, I'll have the first Blessing out before we get moving." He pauses, hoping that last will prevent questions about the sprockets or the fingerpaints.

The mechano-compound eyes of the Wasp regard Martin and Godfrey silently for a moment before the Lesser Queen speaks. "Understood, Creator. All that you wish shall be delivered here." The Lesser Queen departs, giving Martin and Godfrey some peace and privacy for about an hour and a quarter before she returns.

When she does return, she is directing several workers to push a large cart. The activity outside in the meantime, something for Godfrey and possibly Martin to watch in the interim, has accelerated, the Hive being taken apart with precise effort. Martin also would note that in that hour, the Greater Queen has returned, although she appears to have left the Lesser Queen in charge of Martin for the moment.

"All that you have requested is here." The Lesser Queen says. "My counterpart has been informed of your needs and requests." she adds. "Final Disassembly will be complete in 6 hours." she says proudly.

There is also water (remarkably pure) and somehow, the Queen has obtained what look like New Cydonian nutrition bars.

"That is amazing," Martin says, thanking her for the food and water. "All of this," he says, indicating the equipment and the hut, "is more than I expected. And well appreciated. I'll definitely have something in that timeframe, if I can work uninterrupted. Godfrey, I'll need you for an assistant."

"The Creator will not be interrupted until Final Disassembly." The Lesser Queen intones. "Save by your own express command." She withdraws, giving Martin and Godfrey privacy and space. Even the sound of disassembly sounds a bit reduced, or baffled.

"Yes, Martin." Godfrey says. "What do you need and what do we plan to accomplish?"

"Remember the code, for it's going to be part of this," Martin says.

There is a whirr of gears as Godfrey listens.

"The wasps, they can communicate by sound and smell through their antennae, and the queens give out pheromones, complex hormones which the males pick up. I'm going to increase the range of these pheromones and give the queens conscious control of them, so their effective communication range will be at least doubled. As it gets disseminated into the hive, I anticipate there will be a new 'signal class' of wasp that will be able to pass messages to units in case technological means get shorted out. Overall, the communication of the hive wasps should increase significantly. And, of course, so should my message of peace, should I need to tell it to them."

"The improvement of communications amongst the wasps will increase their peacetime and wartime capability." Godfrey comments. "This may lead to an acceleration of their societal development."

"You only intend to directly influence and alter these three hives, correct, Martin?" he says. "The hives that failed to meet your standards will remain as unimproved controls?" Godfrey pauses a moment. "They will either adapt to their more advanced kin, be subsumed, or will be driven to marginalization and extinction. In either event, as I suggested earlier, they will act as a baseline."

"The neurocode has been brought to mind for use and insertion." Godfrey says.

"That's it, just these three," Martin says, nodding. "I can't control when or where it will spread to the other hives, but we'll have them as a control at least until the battle is over with the Omphalos. Did I, er, program you with the basics of genetic manipulation? I've got to plan this for the six hours, and I need to know what I should personally handle."

"A few moments, Martin..." Godfrey stops, and the whirr of gears can be heard again as Godfrey accesses deep stored memory. A second more, and Godfrey's eyes light up.

"It appears, Martin, you have programmed several packages of abilities and skill sets within me." he says. "I have loaded and activated the science and technology package." He rattles off a series of basic terms in genetic engineering. His physical skills are yet to be tested, but his base knowledge of such techniques and teminology is relatively high.

"It is a strange feeling, Martin." Godfrey says. "I remember having, and I do not remember in detail, some of the memories from my base memory package." The moment of reflection passes and he shakes his head.

Martin frowns. "You mean you're forgetting some of your original programmed memories? Or am I misunderstanding?" A pause. "Let me take a look at your memory core, if you don't mind."

"All right, Martin." Godfrey stops, and opens himself to Martin.

Martin's analysis of the Memory cores, over the next few minutes, is revealing. Its not so much that Godfrey's memories are lost forever or wiped by the overlays, but rather they seem to be shunted into long-term, more difficult to reach memory storage when one of the other packages, such as the technology package, he has now activated, takes hold.

It is as if they are moved to a external drive with slower access, while the new memories and talents take center stage. Martin's analysis suggests that this is a dynamic process. Once Godfrey reverts to normal function, the science and technology package will return to "external drive" status, but with the updates of what he has done and what he has learned. Theoretically, Godfrey could keep accessing them, even when the package is deactivated, but it would be a noticeably slower process.

There are a number of packages Martin has created, and clear "slots" for Martin, or perhaps Godfrey himself, to create even more loadouts.

"Godfrey, I'm a genius," Martin says. "When I'm unconscious, anyway. That strange sensation you're feeling is a switching system where you can pull an information package to the forefront, with faster access, then shunt it back to slower storage later. You can adjust it however you want, looks like. I'd say let's experiment with it now, but we're pressed for time. Let's get the DNA extracted from this sample, then we can start making manipulations."

"Yes, Martin." Godfrey says.

Martin's genius does manifest over the next few hours. Godfrey takes a short while, fifteen minutes, in total, to get completely into the flow of DNA extraction, polymerase chain reactions to amplify the DNA pulled out so that there is a usable amount to manipulate, and then start applying Martin's adjustments via various vectors. Once he is in the zone, however, Godfrey is everything Martin could have hoped for in a lab assistant.

So, what are Martin's three top goals in manipulating and augmenting the Wasp genetic material?

Martin is quite pleased with this whole situation, and shows it. Having Godfrey as a knowledgeable assistant really helps get things moving. Martin's top goal is to strengthen the pheromones exuded by the queens by making a post-translational gene product, giving them the option of 'supercharging' a message to their hives. This will take some small time to learn, but Martin isn't too worried. In addition, it should be disseminated out to the hive within the next few generations.

Second, he'll encode the neurocode into the pheromone gene as a rider, so both will be expressed together when he sends the trigger (which in itself will be a pheromone that he'll create separately with the genetic manipulation). He'll keep the trigger pheromone on him.

Third, he'll set in motion a gradual increase in the receptiveness and size of the wasps' antennae, and make it a homozygous recessive trait with gene placement rather than an overall operator mutation so that it only shows in a small fraction of the population. This will eventually create the signal corps he was looking for.

Close to the deadline that Martin has set, the work is complete. The enfolding of the neurocode into the gene goes flawlessly. HE figures that with a homozygous recessive trait, he will eventually get frequencies in keeping with standard population genetics, but unless there is a lot of Wasp breeding, this will be a slow process and the numbers of Signal-Class wasps will not be large unless Martin does a lot of work in introducing this trait to a larger than expected population.

It is as Martin is looking over the work he and Godfrey has done when one of the workers comes to the Hut. Chittering, the worker requests, on behalf of the Greater Queen, the status of Martin's work.

In the meantime, now that Martin is no longer in the fever heat of work, he can see that the hive is almost completely disassembled around the hut.

"Tell the Queen we just finished," Martin says, holding papers in his hand. "I would wish an audience with both the Greater and Lesser Queens, as they will benefit first from our efforts."

The worker accedes and departs the hut. Martin and Godfrey have only a short while, a few minutes, before a group of workers come, to bring him and Godfrey to the presence of both Queens.

The Queen's Court is much more ramshackle than previously, not much more than a bare slab upon which the two queens, Greater and Lesser, are perched. There are not a lot of workers in attendance, as most of them are still engaged in the disassembly of the three hives. The two other hives are now visible through gaps in the exoskeleton of the hive as similarly as skeletal masses adjacent to the nearly disassembled hive they stand in now.

"You have completed your promise and created what we wished for, O Creator?" The Greater Queen asks, leaning down to regard Martin and Godfrey. The Lesser Queen remains watchful, and silent.

"The first Blessing," Martin nods. "All the changes will be internal to both you queens, so I'll need to inject something into you. I'm adding a lot of information that will slowly disseminate through your progeny. And after a day or two of feeling a little ill, you'll have to master the new abilities I give you, through practice."

The Greater Queen hesitates and gives the Lesser Queen a look. There is a brief and rapid exchange in their own language. It is the Greater Queen who speaks, even as the Lesser Queen comes forward.

"You will inject the Lesser Queen first, now." the Greater Queen says. "Upon her successful recovery, you will then inject me. I wish to ascertain its efficacy before risking myself to the process."

"I think" Godfrey subvocalizes "we've just been insulted. Or she is more ambitious than we thought."

"I am ready to receive the blessing." The Lesser Queen, for her part, is far less cautious, and there is eagerness in her compound eyes.

Martin gives a look back to Godfrey as if to say, this wasn't a complete surprise. "I'm ready to Bless you," he says to the Lesser Queen.

She gives a nod of the head.

"Stand here for a minute, and lift this arm just so. Thaaats, it... big stick now... there we go. Now hold on to me for a few minutes, you might feel a little dizzy. When that goes away, you'll probably want some sleep."

Five minutes later, the insertion is complete. The Lesser Queen's dance backward is not quite a stumble, but the genetic package is clearly already taking hold.

"I feel unusually warm." The Lesser Queen says. "Body temperature has risen. I feel sleepy as well."

The Greater Queen, watching this from a distance, is deliberate and measured in her voice. "It appears your injection has had an effect of some kind." she says to Martin. "I await the results with eagerness."

"The Hive will be ready to leave within 2 hours, Creator." she adds. She looks at where the Lesser Queen has gone, in search of a place to rest. "One hopes the Blessing does not delay our departure."

Martin looks pleased. "If she's strong enough, she'll wake up quickly," he says. "And she'll get stronger and stronger, with time."

There is a slight chittering from the Greater Queen as she digests this. The rest of the Court present (some workers not engaged in the disassembly task) has shifted, moving closer.

He looks over the Greater Queen. "She won't end up putting you at a disadvantage, will she?"

"If the Blessing is so clearly efficacious as you suggest, Creator" The Greater Queen says. "And free of defect, then I will insist on my own dose of the Blessing. However, it is better that the effects be first tested before both of us accept the Blessing, and as the Lesser Queen is more expendable to the Hives, it is right and proper that she receive it first."

"The honor is not in receiving the first dose, but the best dose." the Greater Queen adds.

"Best dose, huh? Fair enough," Martin says. "You'll love it, by the time I've exhausted some of my ideas. I always meant to do these things, but time was always against me. I've got this idea for a bioelectric arc generator weapon, maybe I'll try that next..."

"Additional armaments would be a welcome blessing, o Creator." The Greater Queen replies with something like satisfaction. "Especially if the weapons were properly distributed to the correct portions of the Hive."

"Is there anything else the Creator needs before We Depart?" the Greater Queen adds. "Notice that the Lesser Queen has failed, or survived the Blessing, perhaps? Food and water? Metal?"

"News of the Blessing, yes," Martin says. "I'll grab some spare metal and parts while we're on the move."

"As you wish, o Creator." The Greater Queen says. "We will give you news as it comes, o Creator."

About an hour later, Martin discovers that the news of the Blessing does not come from the Greater Queen, but from the Lesser. She enters Martin and Godfrey's hut, standing tall. Her antennae are noticeably larger and more prominent.

She chitters in greeting. "I have survived the Blessing." she says. "I will require practice to master what you have blessed me with. I feel my ability to communicate with the members of the Hive has been enormously increased.

She pauses and lowers her voice.

"Did you seek to have me supplant or trade positions with the Greater Queen?" she asks. "Or did she expect me to simply die?"

"I think she was being careful," Martin says slowly. "I might have taken exception to the lack of faith, or whatever, but I'm not like that. I wasn't deliberately trying to affect your politics, either, I personally think things usually work out better for everyone if that's done internally. Think of me like a windstorm- I blow through and sometimes I make profound changes, and then I move on."

"You are a God of Change" The Lesser Queen chitters thoughtfully. "Your presence has done nothing but to alter us in your visits." She chitters to herself again. "This journey,this great fight against evil, will change us further, will it not? You do not to seek to expend us as I might molt an old shell?" Although reading the Wasps' voice is not easy, worry and concern lace her every word.

"This journey will change us all, even me," Martin says. "I'm not going to lie to you. I expect most of you not to come back. Many of you will die, but you will do so in order that the rest will live, unfettered by the machinations and tyranny of outsiders who wish to invade us. And when it is all over, and I hope that we win, you who survive and return changed to your homeland, you will be the template for generations to come. No... no, I do not seek to expend you. I come to borrow your strength. I'll push you, and test you, because I want my creations, all my creations, to be the best they can be."

"What Martin says is true" Godfrey puts in. The Lesser Queen's eyes swivel to look at Godfrey, as if seeing him again for the first time. "He has created me in a way greater than even he has anticipated, testing my abilities and allowing me to grow and change."

The Lesser Queen chitters to herself for a few moments more. "I already feel some of the changes you have propagated in me, developing within. I might supplant the Greater Queen, make her the lesser..." She regards Martin.

"But that would injure our chances to defeat the Evil Outsiders, would it not?" she says, as if knowing her own answer. "So I will remain the Lesser Queen, and not seek civil war." She pauses a beat after raising her head. "The Hives appear ready to depart on your command, o Creator."

Martin seems about ready to respond to the Lesser Queen's train of thought, but thinks better of it. He nods once. "Very good, then, Let us go forward, to Disassemble Evil."

"To Diassemble Evil!" the Lesser Queen agrees.

Not long thereafter, Martin and Godfrey, led by the Lesser Queen, and an ever growing Honor Guard of ordinary wasps, make their way to what has become their assembling ground. Aside from the large masses of wasps in battle formation, in strictly regimented squares, there is a greater mass of less combat-oriented wasps. These are carrying ingots of metal on their backs. Individually, they do not carry much, but together, they probably could reassemble all three hives, if needed. And when needed.

At the front of this grouping of the wasps is the Greater Queen, of course. She raises an arm to summon, or invite the Lesser Queen, Martin and Godfrey to the front of the massed forces.

"Will we reave New Cydonia first, Creator?" the Greater Queen says, with obvious salivation at the thought. "As we go forward to Disassemble Evil?"

"I've been thinking about that," Martin says. "I finally concluded that I still have lots to do here, and I don't want to damage it to the point where it loses its usefulness to me."

The disappointment on the Queen's countenance is extremely human.

"Tell you what...on the way, we will find a place where we can find all the raw materials we need. We will find this place because I have decided it will be so, and I have that power. You'll see. We should hold off on the reaving until then."

The Queen chitters for a minute or so in thought.

"Very well" she says. "We shall not, on the Creator's request, harvest New Cydonia. We will anticipate the reaving of the place you have in mind."

"What of the finished products from New Cydonia?" Godfrey asks quietly.

"Ah, yes, thank you Godfrey," Martin says. "One other little stop before we go to this place I'm thinking of... and that is to pick up some fabricated metal. A lot of it, so there will be some logistics involved in getting it moving. Can't disassemble it, unfortunately, I went through too much trouble to put it together as it is. It's part of what we need to turn the tables on the Omphalos...the invaders."

"The Creator spoke of the need to bring fabricated products to bear against Evil." The Greater Queen replies. "We will bear the burden of these fabricated metals, and allow the Creator to employ them against these...Omphalos." The word is unfamiliar and the Queen takes a moment to pronounce.

"The Omphalos shall be disassembled!" she declares.

"The Omphalos shall be disassembled!" comes the cry of the assembled wasps.

"We only need you to lead us now, Creator." the Queen says gloriously, grandly. "Your mount has not been disassembled, but has been brought here." The stolen car that Martin has used is borne on a living carpet of wasps into the throne room. The Wasps stop, and scatter, when the car is in front of Martin and Godfrey.

"We have not modified the vehicle, we were given no orders to Improve it." the Lesser Queen puts in.

"There's no need," Martin says, as he walks around the vehicle. "It'll keep up with the troops, considering all the stuff we'll be carrying. I'll trick it up if I need to... what about your Blessing? Did you want to wait?"

"I am still not convinced of its efficacy." the Greater Queen says, glancing at the Lesser Queen before looking at Martin. "It has not felled her, but it has not proven its worth to me. I would not have us waste any more time while I recuperate from it. The business of the Creator presses upon us, and we should not be idle drones while waiting for it to work upon me."

The Lesser Queen makes a chittering noise that sounds like laughter. This earns her a withering look from the Greater Queen.

Martin wisely ignores the byplay. "All right, then," he says. "Let's head on out, yes?"

With Martin leading the way, the sight of the Hives moving across the deserts and ruins outside New Cydonia is like a virtual plague of wasps. The air is full of the sound of chittering, the beating of wings, the sound of lockstep feet in formation.

If the Hives were headed to the multitiered city, there would be alarms, alerts and more problems than Martin might deal with. Instead the city is seen at a distance, the toxic lower levels obscured by fog, the taller towers glistening and gleaming. The inversion layer is awfully low, today.

The designed rendezvous drop off point is on a small plateau on the opposite side of the city from the Hives. Good as the deliverers world, enough steel beams, carbon skeletal elements, and everything else to construct Martin's Zeppelin force and them some.

The excited chittering of the Wasps reaches a fever pitch.

"Martin" Godfrey says suddenly. "There is over a 98 percent probability the drop off site is being monitored. I detect a half dozen actively broadcasting transmitters hidden in the materiel. It is probable there are passive nodes as well."

"Our purchase has garnered interest."

"Yah, I thought that might happen. Give me a minute or two, and then start rattling off the active transmitter frequencies." Martin takes out his PDA and starts to hijack one of the communication satellites in orbit around Cydonia.

(Burglary Skill plus Roll.... Wait, wrong game and system ;) )

As they approach the site, Martin manages to get into the nearest communication satellite with relatively modest effort. The protocols have evolved significantly since the last time he's done this years ago, and so a few techniques needed to be updated. A level of encryption has to be bypassed.

At a signal from him, Godfrey starts rattling off of the frequencies that the transmittters are broadcasting on. The frequencies are all high microwave, with five of the six frequencies clustering around 7.5 GHZ. The sixth one, anomalously, is all the way up at 8.8 GHZ.

"Somebody's being really clever," Martin says. "I wonder who? Maybe they'll be smart enough to meet up with us. In any case..."

"Perhaps it is not the natives." Godfrey says. "Probability of it being someone from outside the shadow is indeterminate. The equations have too many free variables to calculate with any degree of certainty."

Once he's hacked into the satellite, he calls over to the Queens.

The Two Queens, and an entourage to match, converge on the vehicle.

"We're being watched, and there's passive sensors," he says. "I can jam the active ones, but I'll need a cover for the passive ones. What I need is a number of drones that can either emit a signal at a particular pitch, or carry equipment that can do the same, or less effective, equipment that can send off strong feedback. I want them all to fly up to the package and then take off in all different directions and cause confusion until we can get up in there and disable the passive sensors. Can they do that?"

The two queens withdraw and converse back and forth in their language for about a minute or so. Finally, they seem to come to an accord, and they return, the Greater Queen speaking.

"We can have the drones create and carry sound equipment to accomplish this task, Creator." The Greater queen explains. "It will require less than an hour to assemble the components for the generators and be prepared to act at your command.

"Is this acceptable, Creator?" the Greater Queen asks.

Martin glances towards Godfrey to confirm the timing, but nods. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"It is a reasonable time frame, Martin" Godfrey says after a moment's whirring thought.

He holds up the PDA. "That's the frequency you want, but if you can't hack all of the equipment, program the rest for white noise. Hurry, 'cause I can't keep control of my jamming satellite forever." He grins at Godfrey. "And a bonus: with a jamming satellite, they can't track our progress from space until we've grabbed the stuff and walked in Shadow."

"Yes, Creator." The Greater Queen says. "The materiel of the Creator will not be stolen. Together, the two Queens (with the lesser Queen taking lead on communication) start giving commands to workers.

While Martin has seen their disassembly skills in full play, in the next 57 minutes, he sees them take the raw material they carry, and assemble jamming devices. The hierarchical nature of the Wasps is seen even in the assembly and design process, going all the way up to the Queens for the most major decisions. There is even a group of Wasps engaged in what might be called Quality Assurance, going around to the various teams working on components, pulling out items at random, and seeing if the pieces are to specifications and plan.

57 minutes after the plan is put in effect, six jamming devices have been completed that give off a frequency that is, within a tenth of a percent, exactly what Martin had specified.

Martin still has control of the satellite. There are cursorial probes aimed at testing Martin's control, but nothing at all yet serious or a major challenge to his authority. That, clearly, is coming.

Martin decides that it is improbable that the probes are going to get a foothold. But this might not be enough, so he instructs Godfrey to research an emergency backup jammer that will work locally. It might not cover the whole army, but he's hoping it will make the shipment disappear.

Godfrey gets to work on creating something portable, and quickly producible from the materials on hand that the Wasps already carry.

Then, well, there's no reason to wait. "Let's do it," he says to the Queens. "Run the passive jammers on ahead, and have them rendezvous with us," He pulls up a map on his PDA, "here, after the command to scatter. I'll start the active jamming in two minutes and thirty seconds... mark. Godfrey, let's go."

The Queens send the workers ahead, the signals filling the air with useless information and static. The Wasps the Greater Queen selected, Martin notes, are all communicating with the Lesser Queen and her enhanced capabilities. The greater control this affords seems to obviate some potential coordination problems that could have led to gaps in coverage.

As Martin and Godfrey follow, Godfrey shows Martin a prototype backup jammer, based very much on the Wasp model, with a somewhat more anachronistic sort of appearance, more rheostat dials and oscilloscope sort of display and feedback.

As the drones start their scattering formation and Martin and Godfrey come up, Godfrey shows Martin the display as the active jamming goes into effect. Martin's active jamming is bright and clear and signature, and the noise being generated by the drones.

Underneath those spikes, Martin can see that whoever is trying to monitor the equipment is, in turn, trying to overcome the jamming. Whoever is doing this is clearly trying ECCM-type measures. They are not succeeding, but they are being particularly persistent. The amount of power being used is relatively high, too.

The Wasps have, at directive from the Queens, started loading material onto themselves, in some cases turning into a living carpet to carry the larger fabricated pieces on the ground.

Martin has a failsafe for the counter-countermeasures, but he leaves it alone, hoping that he won't have to do something drastic, Instead, he rushes ahead with Godfrey, using his PDA to 'sniff' out the passive sensors and disable them as fast as possible.

The clock ticks as Martin searches the pile and the fabricated pieces for the passive sensors. The press of the control of the satellite, the efforts to overcome the jamming. The sensors themselves, when Martin finds them, are relatively small rivet-shaped devices that are easy to miss without something like his device to target them. Godfrey takes the initiative to disassemble each of them as they are found.

The ECCM measures continue to steadily rise. They are within shouting distance of being able to overwhelm the jamming when Martin gets the last passive sensor found, and disabled. His PDA detects that all of them have been accounted for, and there is nothing for them to "ping". The danger, for the moment, appears to have been averted.

Martin smiles. "Okay, we've got the stuff hidden from view. Now we gotta pull some razzle-dazzle. I need the jammer wasps to scatter, per the plan. I need the drones to pick up this stuff and get us moving. And I need groups of soldiers to fly around the periphery and 'discourage' whomever comes up to get a bird's eye view. We don't have much time until they get enough satellites over our heads to look at us, no matter how much jamming I set up."

"Yes, Martin" Godfrey says. "I calculate a small but growing probability that the origin of these efforts originate outside of New Cydonia entirely."

The workers continue their efforts to get the material in carrying condition, the carpets of walking workers and flying teams of workers and drones each taking some of the load. The jammer wasps fly in diametrically opposed directions, using drunkard walk algorithms mixed in with their standard vectors to make their flights more difficult to track.

The convoy of the workers and drones of the three hives do finally get moving. It should not be hard for Martin to start shadow shifting the mass, away from Cydonia and prying satellites.

"Did you wish the jammers to return?" the Lesser Queen comes up to Martin and Godfrey's vehicle. "They are still within *my* range, if not the Greater Queen's communication range." The pride in her voice at her augmentation is obvious.

Coincidentally, even though it lasts only a moment, and then drops into nothiness, someone tries to trump Martin as the lesser Queen speaks.. Its definitely not the lesser Queen, and its too short in relative time for Martin to get a fix on it, but someone clearly did.

"Nuts," Martin says, then holds up a hand to forestall the inevitable confusion from the Queen. "Give them another few minutes, and then call them in," he says. "We need to move as fast as possible so I can erase this element of pursuit. Concentrate the pickets to the sides and the rear so we can discourage pursuit."

"You do not fear attack from the front quarter? " The lesser Queen says. "You think we will be pursued but not attacked head-on?"

"The probability of being intercepted from that quadrant, assuming an interception occurs at all, is 9%." Godfrey says."Pursuit or perpendicular interception is far more likely."

"Very well. The jammers will remain out for 4 more minutes and the pickets aligned as you wish" the lesser Queen withdraws to speak to the Greater Queen and get matters moving.

The convoy of materials continues its slow march. In five minutes, distantly, the jammers can be seen heading back to the main body of the convoy. In ten minutes, the jammers are back within the body of Martin's convoy. Two minutes later, a message comes to Martin and Godfrey, via a worker sent by the Lesser Queen. One of the pickets at a polar angle of 147 degrees reports spotting a single, large ship of unknown construction and manufacture moving toward the convoy, distance estimated at 12 kilometers. A quick bit of vector math based on its speed and angle suggests that the ship will reach the convoy in approximately 9 more minutes.

One might say that the element of pursuit is definitely present.

That leaves Martin with a quandary. The ship might be from Cydonia, or it might be that the airship has been constructed already and is ready to pick them up. That would go with the Trump call. Sort of.

"That large ship, it may be some friends I knew were coming. Didn't expect them to get here so fast, though. How about this? Send one drone ahead of the picket, without weapons, and have it challenge the airship. Have them state their business and send a message, if they wish. You can stay in contact with it."

"Very well. We will not open up hostilities on the approaching craft until their nature is determined and challenge made." The worker promises to convey the message and order to the Queens, and from here, the orders disseminated.

Two minutes later, Martin notes a single drone flies on an intercept vector toward the approaching craft.

The ship continues to approach as the minutes tick away, close enough to be visible. Its not a pure airship, instead it appears to be a much more organic design. With its tentacles and protrusions, it looks like a airship as inspired by Giger as much as Verne.

The worker returns, and speaks.

"Great Creator, The Queens report that the craft reports being from someone named Keane, of a place called The Courts of Chaos, looking for a Dagny Thorsonne. Is this some unknown place on this world, or another, they ask. And is this request hostile?"

"Who the...I..." Martin shakes his head. "Dagny is a 'who', not a 'where'. We don't have time to hash out the details. Pass along to the ship that they've crossed Martin's path, and I'm busy. They have a choice; either come with us and follow orders until we have time to talk, or they can peel off and go their own way. Away from us."

"Yes Creator. It shall be transmitted" the worker says.

Fifteen minutes later, the large ship appears to have changed course to parallel and match the speed and vector of Martin's convoy. A worker, seemingly now the designed worker for communication between the Queens and their Creator, returns with the news.

"Keane is willing to follow in your path and is apparently familiar with who you are, Creator. It pleases him to have encountered you and wishes to discuss matters. He has reported that he is willing to slave his controls to your command, if necessary." The worker transmits.

"Just tell him to keep up," Martin says. "And pass the word, we move at the best possible speed. The faster we go, the easier it will be to get where we're going."

"Yes, Creator" the worker says. "it shall be done."

The convoy does pick up speed within a few minutes of Martin's command.

"The enhancements to the Lesser Queen seem to have proved efficacious, Martin" Godfrey comments. "The drones act more in concert than previously noticed."

After about 20 minutes of this sort of travel, Martin is pretty sure that pursuit has been eluded, or more accurately, outpaced. There is absolutely no signs of pursuit now. The large ship from the Dagny-seeking Keane still maintains pace. Shifting should now be possible without carrying over the element of chase.

"How quickly will we shift shadow?" Godfrey asks. "And to what first destination?"

Martin reaches into a pocket and hands him the letter from Benedict. "This is the way. Shifting shadow is a function of speed, so we're not going to be going fast at all with an army in tow. We'll lose some on the way, too, but that happens with every army." He starts concentrating, then, shifting the sky and trying to remove all traces of pursuit.

Godfrey studies the list of waypoints that Benedict provided, as the convoy (with its unexpected hanger-on) continues to surround and be led by the passage of Martin's vehicle. The first real hump, getting out of New Cydonia, is the hardest for a good portion of the early going. The increased reality of New Cydonia, by Martin's return, and manipulations necessarily means that the borders are a speed bump that Martin needs a little momentum to get over.

That done, with the element of pursuit obviated by his shifting, there is a lot of empty space, a lot of deserted shadows in store. This does make the travel relatively easy, even though it is slow. The element of pursuit is gone. The Chaosian's ship continues to manage to keep pace, too.

The only problem, at first is there is no sign as yet of the dirigible from Percy, Brandeigh and Kieran. That concern, however becomes secondary when, upon another shift, the placid landscape changes, suddenly. The army now moves across a cratered, cold and unforgiving steppe. A single, massively oversized tank rumbles toward Martin's army.

"The vehicle refuses all attempts at communication." the Messenger Wasp reports to Martin. "We have lost three of the outriders in attempts to do so. It appears to be armed with small arms, medium and large cannon, possibly using depleted uranium ammunition, and nuclear tipped missiles."

Martin passes his hand in front of his face. "Brilliant. Not moving fast enough to remove it, and we don't have nuclear deterrence or plasma shield tech. Find out what we've got in the area of terrain modification, including the new ship, and keep everybody moving. I'll concentrate on preventing the nukes from going off until I come up with a plan."

"Yes, Creator" the Messenger Wasp agrees.

The next twenty minutes brings the tank into closer range, but no further skirmishes or conflicts as the outriders of the army adjust to avoid coming under the short range fire of the tank.

The messenger wasp returns.

"Creator, we do not have anything to modify terrain on a rapid basis, although the Greater Queens tells me to tell you we could form a daub or a hive if that would be useful."

"The one known as Keane" the wasp continues to buzz. "says he has Earth Moving Sorcery at his disposal. He further believes the armored vehicle does not have a crew and instead..."

A klaxon on the console of Martin's vehicle goes off.

The tank has launched one of its missiles...and chosen Martin's vehicle as the target.

"We have been identified as a primary objective, Martin." Godfrey says. "Tactical doctrine suggests using the limited supply of missiles only for major threats."

Sixty seconds until the missile strike, and counting...

"Pass the word," Martin says. "Don't take that thing on directly. Raid it in big groups, attack and pull back. Different directions. Keep it busy. Keep us moving. I'll be occupied with those missiles." And he doesn't panic, not yet, but concentrates on his decision that it's improbable that the trigger mechanisms on the tank's missiles are working.

Martin's gambit, for what its worth, works. The missile fails to explode and lands in the steppe behind the convoy. A second missile launch is equally and similarly stopped. If a robot tank can be said to be frustrated, Martin has frustrated the thing. It even stops its motion for 57 seconds, clearly calculating options.

This does allow the more armed wasps to make raids at the tank. Swooping in, taking a potshot, and dancing out of range. Several swarms of Wasps, from three directions keep hitting the tank. Reports come in that a lucky blast took out one of the secondary batteries. On the other hand, a firing of the main gun felled a group of wasps that did not retreat out of range. The tank goes in a zig zig pattern, trying to catch wasps, and then decides on a straight ahead forward course toward Martin. It does not launch any of its 3 or 4 remaining missiles.

"Martin" Godfrey says. "The tank is getting closer to primary gun range with us. If we do not fully disable is weaponry, it will tear the army apart. The Wasps weapons are procing relatively ineffective against its major weaponry. We need greater firepower to disable them."

"Prince Martin" Keane gets one of the Wasps shadowing him to send a message to Martin. "The enemy tank's effectiveness is limited to its gun range as long as you keep using that Pattern. I can feel it. Should we not concentrate on its ability to move? If its drive components are destroyed, its threat profile would be neutralized."

"I agree completely. 'Twas busy keeping us from being incinerated," Martin says. "Let's change the target and aim for the treads and wheels. Then we can hope it doesn't have antigrav."

"it would be illogical for it to have such expensively redundant systems." Godfrey points out.

The next fifteen minutes are tense as the Wasps fire at the treads, ablating them with hit and run attacks that slowly chew up the treads, and some of Martin's forces as well. Alarms keep him appraised of the tank's approach and the viability of it firing its main batteries at him, or other major elements of the army (such as the Queens). Finally, it reaches the outskirts of range and begins shelling the army, even as its forward speed is finally brought to a crawl, and then, to nothing.

Without needing orders from him, the Wasps move into a ring just outside of the tank's maximum range. A message comes in from the lesser Queen.

"We have suffered casualties, but the threat from the autonomous tank has been contained." the messenger tells Martin. "There is one additional thing, Creator. One of the Wasps from the last sortie to disable the tank claims that it broke its radio silence."

"The Wasp claims the Tank was speaking your name, Creator."

"Nuts." Martin thinks a minute, then uses his PDA to find the right frequency to the tank. "Okay. You got my attention. Tell me why I shouldn't blow you into orbit."

"You are outside my effective combat range, Prince Martin of Amber." The voice is flat, mechanical. The intonations and even the stresses on the words seem off. "Your ability to destroy me at your recognizance is recognized. It is possible, if I used the remainder of my missile stockpile to overwhelm your abilities to neutralize them, a mutual destruction might be effected. However, I have not been instructed to do so."

"My creator the Princess Cyllene" continues the tank. "is satisfied with the effectiveness of your armed forces and your ability at handling the threat that I posed."

"Well, you tell Cyllene..." Martin switches gears as his momentary flash of anger fades into amusement. "Tell her she's going to have to come fix you, 'cause I'm not falling for a sucker play."

There is a pause, a moment of calculation. "Very well. So noted, Prince Martin. I believe this concludes our communication, then. The Princess sends her regards. A report of this will be sent to her. Far-well."

The communication drops.

Approximately three seconds later, Martin detects a packet of outbound information, a message wave sent out from the tank, on a bearing about forty five degrees off of his current heading.

Martin signs off. "Gives her regards," he echoes. "The worst is over, Godfrey. Let's get everyone moving, tally up the damage, and organize repairs on the fly. We need to keep moving in order to use Shadow to our advantage. When that's settled, contact the new ship and arrange a meet."

"Yes, Martin." Godfrey says.

An hour later, the convoy moving again and forward progress regains, Martin discovers that 6% of the wasps were destroyed by the tank, mostly when it got its main and secondary guns within range. Neither of the Queens were injured. Losses to the supplies are minimal, since the wasps killed were mainly outriders, scouts and warriors not carrying any. Reports from a messenger from the Lesser Queen reveals that it is anticipated field repairs will be possible with only a minimal reduction to the amount of ground covered per day.

As far as the meet, a series of messages go back and forth with the aid of the wasps. The Chaosian suggests that the meet be held on his ship, so that the convoy does not have to stop in order to have the meeting. There is room for Martin's vehicle to dock inside, and a "Barimen-appropriate lunch" is promised.

Martin agrees, and gives instructions to dock the ship- after, of course, he fully apprises the queens of the meeting and to watch for an emergency call if needed. They are, of course, invited, but Martin anticipates they're probably too busy to attend.

Martin is correct that the Queens decline Martin's invitation to accompany him to meet their mysterious ally. "We are still engaged in making certain the Hives work at full functionality during our travel, following the combat with the tank. We believe the Creator will negotiate and act on our behalf." is the official line, from the Greater Queen. The Lesser Queen, noticeably does NOT send a response at all.

The interior of the mysterious ship, as it opens up to admit Martin's landspeeder like car, looks like something from a space opera movie, with running lights, twinkling and providing guidance for Martin's vehicle to park.

There are two small domed fighters, one seat models, parked in the other two empty "bays". They are silver and black in color and clearly and visibly armed with what appear to be missiles and some sort of projectile guns.

A few bipedal humanoid creatures, dark skinned and about 8 feet tall, busy themselves with tasks in this landing bay. Four of them, as soon as Martin's vehicle has stopped, move as a pack toward the speeder.

"There is a greater than ninety percent probability that these are Demons from the Courts of Chaos, Martin" Godfrey says as the tall, coal black creatures approach. the lead one of the quartet speaks in a high whispery voice.

"Welcome Prince Martin of Amber. My master bades you to accompany us to the forward bridge for your deliberations and discussions. Do you require anything before I escort you there?"

Hooray for single-seat fighters! Martin decides he's going to look in one sometime before he leaves. Adding to the 'mark for important review later' is the fact that the Lesser Queen didn't respond to him. "Nothing at the moment." He smiles and waits to be escorted.

"Very well. I will escort you to Lord Keane." the Demon replies. He leads Martin and Godfrey through a series of tall corridors. They are relatively narrow, however, designed to barely allow two to walk abreast, or for two individuals to pass each other. The corridors are clearly a maze, with numerous dead ends and right angle turns both on the path chosen and looking down the junctions not taken.

The Forward Bridge is a far more open plan. It does not have a viewport to the outside, but rather has an oversized viewscreen that covers at least 190 degrees of arc and runs from floor to ceiling. More of the tall demons man various stations with readouts. The decor and feel, like the corridors, is with a phlethora of blinking lights and touch displays.

At the center of all this, standing next to a highback chair facing the viewscreen is a tall white haired young man. He has the same sort of coloration and appearance that Martin has seen in Mandor, although he looks significantly younger and doesn't have the widow's peak.

"Greetings, Prince Martin" the man says. "Keane, son of the Marchesa Delois, of House Sawall, at your service."

"Dragon Tea, perhaps?" he offers.

"I'd ask if it was made from real dragons, but you'd tell me," Martin says. "And I don't want to know. Pleased to meet you, and yes, please, I'd like some Dragon Tea." He smiles, but it doesn't turn into his easy grin. "I'm afraid you have the advantage of me, and I'm sorry you got caught into the exodus. You know some of my relatives?"

"Dragon Tea" Keane says aloud. "And bring in the other refreshments." This done, he smiles and nods.

"One in particular." Keane says. He is ready to speak further when he turns to look behind Martin and Godfrey.

"Here's tea" he says in satisfaction, as one of those demons pushes in a cart with a large samovar balanced on it. Pushed to the bridge, the demon starts pouring cups of tea. Keane, first, and then a cup is offered to Martin. It smells mostly of a strong black tea and something...metallic?

"Lunch will be here soon." Keane adds. "But let me tell you about Dagny. Lovely girl. one of your cousins, I gather. We wound up dealing with a group of Chaosians, and, later, a group of Omphalos in a city called Paris. *That* was fun. And a presage of future things."

He takes a sip of the tea, strong and rich.

"I had a strange dream a week ago." he says. "A vision, if you will. Of a one armed Amberite with a call to arms to continue to fight the Omphalos. Does this sound familiar?"

Martin nods. No point trying to obfuscate that, and if he's lucky they'd be adding allies. "Benedict calls leaders and their armies to him," he says. "You've seen the Omphalos personally, then, and you can appreciate the threat they represent. Benedict thinks it's time to make them afraid to go through a door, even if they can create one."

"Indeed. There is something else about this, that I wish not to be bandied about lightly, Martin of Amber." He seems ready to reveal this, when another demon comes in with a cart. Keane waits until the cart arrives, and two covered dishes are opened up to reveal plates with artfully arranged and plated food, with a swirl of sauce around it.

The food, though, appears to all accounts to be relatively ordinary, square graham crackers.

"These are my favorite." Keane says, taking one and dragging it along the sauce before chewing it. "But to say what I was going to earlier..." he watches Martin carefully as he continues. "my father, as opposed to my mother, has ancestry in Hendrake, and that ancestry is descended from the daughters of Lintra."

Martin pauses, his teacup halfway to his mouth. "So, the ol' family spiderweb just got bigger," he says. "Daughters of Lintra and Benedict, I assume you mean. And by 'ancestry', I can extrapolate that there are more than a couple generations in between them and you. Wow. A lot bigger."

"I understand that the story went out that it was a linear line from Lintra and Benedict to the Queen Mother." Keane says. "It's far more complicated. Admittedly, given the unfamiliarity of the Courts with breeding with those exposed to the Pattern, a fair chunk of that family tree has not lived overlong." Keane admits. "Sports, deleterious mutations, unsuable traits. The expected problems." He takes another graham cracker, and dunks it in his cup and chews it. "But there are a fair number of us still living, especially in our generation. The Queen Mother is the most successful eugenic line, and was the first one, but she is not the only successful one, by far."

Martin, having plenty of personal contact with that same line, doesn't say anything to that. "So, maybe we'll have some from the Courts showing up to the party? If they get the message, of course, and decide to do so." He raises an eyebrow. "But I digress. You said you were looking for Dagny?"

"I did" Keane says, finishing the dunked graham cracker. "I encountered her in shadow, and we

traveled together for a time and had a conflict with the Omphalos in a shadow with a Broken Pattern." He takes another graham cracker. "We disrupted the Omphalos there as best we could, and parted on most amicable terms. When I received the aforementioned dream, I jumped the chance to aid the general. When I encountered your forces traveling through shadow, I leapt to the conclusion that you were Dagny, who had been similarly summoned as I had,of course. She seemed familiar and comfortable with technology. I apologize." he bows his head. "for any confusion on that matter."

"Have you personally encountered the Omphalos before this summons?" Keane asks.

"Not me, just heard stories," Martin says. "I've spent a lot of time recently being trapped in a box. And an island. And a reality. Come to think of it, I get stuck a lot."

Keane looks alarmed by this admission.

"That is a strange fate to be granted by the Serpent. As a devotee of Ophidian Libertas..." he stops in mid thought and shakes his head. "Forgive me if my religious beliefs do not mesh well with yours. Be at peace and assured that I do not seek to pent you here, or restrict your freedom in any way. It would be anathema for me to do so."

Martin smiles. "It would be anathema for everybody," he says. "Remind me to tell you someday about my corbomite device."

Keane furrows his eyebrows.

"But what of this?" Keane gestures to Godfrey. "Some sort of Golem? He does not appear to be of elemental make, however."

"Sort of," Martin says. "Godfrey is the first of his kind. If you have to think Golem, think of a creature of metal and lightning, rather than mud and magic."

"I don't have to think Golem." Keane says. "I know of technology, but did not think your...Godfrey was one. His appearance is unusual."

Keane takes a sip and continues. "He's fully alive and aware?"

"Yes, I am." Godfrey says with a whirr of gears. "I am fully sentient. This puzzles my Creator as much as it does me."

"Amazing." Keane says. "To grant animation is one thing, to grant life is much greater." He pauses and then looks thunderstruck.

"I know you now!" Keane opens his mouth and grins. "You are the friend of The Emperor, the Builder."

"Is Merle calling me the Builder now? We do compliment each other a lot on our abilities," Martin says. "This despite the fact that we differ a lot on our approaches. I should have known to introduce myself by my Chaos contacts. I've run around a little with Dara, too, but it's been a while."

Keane swallows thickly. "I had not been aware that you were well acquainted with

the Queen Mother, as well as the Emperor." His hand shudders slightly and he puts his teacup down. "Surely, then, you realize her reputation for being ruthless and a dangerous political foe is well known. I, ah, prefer less dangerous associates and allies within Sawall."

"I did hear rumor, before I left the Court again, that an expedition to find the Queen Mother's shadow-fostered daughter was being searched for. You wouldn't know aught of that, would you, Prince Martin?" He studies Martin.

Martin shakes his head. "No clue, here. I take it that this would be looked upon as unusual? Like, for instance, this wasn't the Children's Crusade that went looking for her."

"The fact that she had been lost was unusual." Keane says. "And that a rescue mission dispatched to find her, even more unusual in that fashion. I've sources that they even hired a priest of the Serpent."

"House Politics." he waves his hands. "Your friend the Queen Mother has enemies in certain Houses, but it seems that she has mercifully kept you from being embroiled in them. You were relatively close to Yggdrasil, though, hence my curiosity if you knew something of this." Keane explains.

He takes another graham cracker and chews it thoroughly.

"Is someone opposing the transit to the General's gathering?" he asks Martin. He pauses a beat and adds. "The highly armed, tracked vehicle that opposed the convoy's passage."

"Nope! That was cousin Cyllene's pet. She's Caine's daughter. Do you know her?"

Keane shakes his head uncertainly.

"She's very much the adventurous type. This was her idea of a test." Martin smiles. "I'll get her back, someday. When she least expects it, of course. To be honest, I was expecting Benedict to do it, and he still may, but I can always point back to this little incident. If we get tested too much, it'll knock down our numbers too far."

"Is it possible that this Cyllene tested the readiness of your army on Benedict's behalf?" Keane asks. "Surely, she might have been summoned, too? Or if he did not, perhaps a test or challenge from The General is forthcoming?" Keane pauses and sips his tea. "As you say, to test the field readiness of the troops you are bringing him?"

"Sure, that's possible. That doesn't mean I won't get her back. She likes to buckle and swash, she'll love it," Martin says.

"Ah, this is a kinship ritual." Keane says.

"I was surprised by the nature of your forces." Keane continues. "I would have expected something more...mundane from a Barimen like yourself. Your insects remind me in some way of Lessiman insectiles, so few Chaosians would have followed this particular paradigm."

"Query: What is Lessima?" Godfrey says, with a whirr of gears.

"Know you not of the Lessima?" Keane asks Martin.

Martin frowns. "I've heard the name," he says, "and I assumed it was a place and not a person, but I've never been there. Tell me about it?"

"I could keep you here for days, possibly the entire trip to The General's shadow and tell you of them. Let us perform the rule of three. I will tell you the basics, and answer three questions, so you learn what you wish to do so." Keane says. "I am not proposing a question game at this time, mind." he grins. "That's more of a Minobee thing."

"The Lessima are descendants of House Lessima, in the same analogous fashion that you, Prince Martin, are a descendant of House Barimen. They were excommunicated from Chaos centuries ago for rejecting the Logrus, and subjecting any of their scions to its power and majesty. The Church, ascendant in that age, could not abide such heresy. They could not abide the existence of a House willing to question the creator of the Courts. The Lessima fled to a inhospitable place in the Black Zone, and there built their own citadel, and hold sway over a portion of shadow. The Jihad that the Church called

"They are consummate shapeshifters. More than that, Prince Martin, they are willing to experiment and investigate realms of shapeshifting, schools of thought and practice that are anathema, forbidden and abomination. They claim these arts are to protect themselves against the Courts, but their House was rumored to do such practices before their excommunication and exodus."

"The Courts and the Lessima have relations ranging from cold peace to cold war."

"Now, your questions?" Keane asks, refilling his tea cup.

Martin raises his eyebrows a little, pondering. "Let's do the easy one first," he says. "You said 'centuries ago'... would you put it in relation to Amber? Say, Dworkin's break from Chaos on one end of a timeline, and, say, Merlin's installation as Emperor on the other. With such wild differences in time, I'm curious if there was some impact on Amber's history. Or vice versa."

"Ah, a good question, Prince Martin." Keane says with approval. "If one were to make this timeline, as you say, Dworkin's flight from Chaos was two millenia ago. We're nearly at the millennial anniversary of the Lessiman Succession."

"It is said." Keane offers "that at least one of King Oberon's Queens was secretly from Chaos, perhaps out of the societal chaos and disorder from the Jihad. Houses fell and rose in those days."

The Potted History of Amber, for anyone except the experts, like Shannon, runs to being mostly a list of Oberon's Queens, from Rilga on down. Rilga's marriage to Oberon would, from what Martin knows of the timey wimey differences, correspond to the events with Lessima and Chaos.

Amber's History before it turns into myth and legend more than actual history. Was Dworkin really a ruler of Amber? Was the flow of time so distorted and variable that tens of thousands of years passed between the Pattern's writing and Oberon's marriage to Rilga? Or was it centuries? Millenia? Decades? Its extremely hard to say. But Martin is pretty sure on the correlation of the Lessima Troubles and the start of standard Amberian History.

Martin is looking less and less happy. "Okay. That leads to our current troubles. Do they hate the Courts enough right now that they would be helping the Omphalos?"

Keane gives a frown. "The popular view, the official line, is that the Lessima believe that the Serpent is a parasite, a threat to them and all reality. Thus, they are heretics, of course. Their actual level of hatred and distrust is difficult to say, but certainly, they could not have forgotten their once high place in the Courts..."

He stops talking and puts down his tea cup. "Yes" he says, with the sepulchral voice of someone realizing the gravity of a problem even as he articulates it. "the Lessima would be willing to ally themselves with any and all who would help them fight the Courts of Chaos."

"My probabilistic analysis does not have enough information to make a guess with more than a 50 percent credible interval, Martin." Godfrey says. "Thus, the probability of Lessiman involvement with the Omphalos cannot be calculated at this time."

"If I translate that into Thari." Keane says. "We don't know enough to make a guess, yet?" He looks at his cup and then up at Martin. "If the Lessima are allies, that would become blindingly obvious once we encounter their shapeshifters."

"We'll file that under 'things I don't want to think about yet'. Okay, last question, since you said they and the Courts have some kind of on again, off again romance. Now that they've been apart so long, what's Lessima's motivation? Obviously, they don't care about rejoining the fold. What makes them happy?"

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