Shadows of Hyperion: Chapter 7

 

Simon gets a date, gets some news, and gets an idea!

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Chapter 7.

The door chime finally drew his attention; Simon said "Come in," absently, while still focused on the tri-display in front of him.

 

"Since you were taking a break today," Oasis' voice came from behind him, "I thought we might –"

 

Feeling his face flaming scarlet, Simon hit the off control on the little console.

 

But by the raised eyebrow and widening grin on Oasis' face, he knew he'd been a split-second too late. "Simon, were you… you were! You were watching Davia the Dynamo!"

 

He closed his eyes in embarrassment. "I'm afraid I was. I'm sorry, it's probably terribly insulting to any Hyperion to…"

 

"Oh, piffle, Simon." She stepped forward and gave him a firm kiss, which did go a long way towards convincing him not to devise a way to shrink into invisibility. "Sure, some of us didn't want to think about it, but a lot of us got used to the idea that we had a sort of public image. Davia might not want to see the show, any more than I want to see people watching my origin source show from the twentieth century, but it's nothing we'll get mad about. Hell, after I met him, I ended up reading all the old Sherlock Holmes stories."

 

Her face fell, and he didn't need to ask; Holmes was clearly one of the ones who hadn't made it out. "Well… I'm glad you don't think less of me."

 

"I thought your secret crush had been your AI-copy of Dr. Kanzaki," she said, putting down a bag she had in one hand. At his twitch, she grinned broadly. "Oh, yes, Ariane told me about that one."

 

"My childhood follies will continue to haunt me, I suppose. Dr. Kanzaki was a bit farther along. Davia was my old-fashioned crush when I was, oh, thirteen or so. I played through it four… no, five times, and of course I collected several of the bestplay series – had a part in one of them, in fact."

 

"That must have been exciting; having a version of the series include part of your own playthrough."

 

"It was. In fact, it was that version I had with me, though my part was small and doesn't show up until Season Four." He glanced down to the bag. "What's that?"

 

"Oh! As I was saying before I realized I had an opportunity to make you cringe, I thought we could spend today together before another emergency hits."

 

Simon saw that in the bag were warmsealed meal packages, a bottle of wine, and various desserts, and looked up. "Oasis… have I told you I love you?"

 

"Not in the last eight hours," she answered, and kissed him again. "I love you too, Simon."

 

"Even with my little secret shames?" he said.

 

"Oh, we all have those. I'm never telling mine, of course, but DuQuesne, oh, I could tell you a few things."

 

"Really?" he smiled back. "Well, let me get this old thing out of the way," he said, reaching for the tri-display console.

 

"Don't," she said with a smile. "You were obviously settled in to dive into the nostalgia; I'll take the dive with you. Honestly, I did see some of the bestplay of one season of Davia, so I'm not totally at sea. Where are you in the plot?"

 

"Are you sure?"

 

"Simon, I came here to just relax, cuddle, and hang out with you. If that involves watching an old cheesy show, that's just fine. I'll make you watch some old Sherlock Holmes vids with me later. Deal?"

 

I really did want to see this… and she makes it all right, just being here. "Deal."

 

As he set the player back down and prepared to restart, she asked, "So, like I said, where were we?"

 

"Davia had just been captured by The Void."

 

"Oh, that's early on. If it's the first Void line, yes?"

 

"Yes, it is."

 

They settled back to watch, Simon now aware of the companionable warmth of Oasis next to him, one of her long red ponytails trailing down his shoulder and across his chest.

 

"Hey, wait, Davia can control electricity and it makes her superhuman in like every way, right? So why can't she break out of that?" Oasis asked.

 

"Oh, normally she is, but like a real dynamo she needs to have something start her turning, so to speak. All of the Force Four have that kind of weakness; Sakura the Sun needs to somehow get exposed to light equal to that of the Sun, Jyrie the Jet needs wind, and Titania the Torrent needs water. Once they each get enough, it ignites their Heartflame," he pointed to the many-pointed jewel in the center of Davia's chest, "and they can access their full powers."

 

"Oh, right, now I remember. It'll keep burning unless they go unconscious, but once that happens, it's out."

 

Simon nodded. "Ordinary sleep won't do it, but the Void made sure she was completely unconscious. Without that ignited, the most she can do is a few little sparks. And it takes a lot of power to start." He gave her a hug with the arm he had over her shoulders. "Thank you for this. I felt so silly."

 

She kissed his cheek. "Well, I wouldn't ask Davia herself to watch, but I'm fine with it. So where will she –"

 

A green comm-ball popped into existence, making Simon jump half off the couch. "Doctor Sandrisson," came the neutral voice of the Arena's message system, "as you are the ranking member present, this request comes to you." Another voice spoke. "Captain Austin, I, Amas-Garao, request an audience."

 

"Who?" Simon repeated, although he was quite sure he had heard correctly.

 

"Amas-Garao," the green sphere repeated, this time in the unmistakable deep, somehow sinister voice of the eldest Shadeweaver.

 

Well, that is a new one. The Shadeweavers, and Amas-Garao in particular, didn't come by and courteously knock on your door, asking to visit; they just popped up out of nowhere, like any proper wizard of uncertain motives and temperament.

 

Simon couldn't help but feel that this event could not bode well, and from the look in Oasis' eyes, she agreed. "If you wish to speak to the Captain, I'm afraid she's not here." Which was not only true, but emphatically so – she had gone to have a private, no-way-to-intercept conference with Saul, Davia, and Mentor, and Tunuvun if he was still there. More, DuQuesne wasn't in either, as he was trying to run down the leads on the various possible witnesses to Byto's murder.

 

"If she is absent, you or Doctor DuQuesne will be acceptable," Amas-Garao replied. "May I enter, Doctor Sandrisson?"

 

He only hesitated a moment. "Certainly. I will meet you in the entrance hall."

 

Oasis fell in next to him as he rose from the couch. "Mind if I tag along?"

 

"I absolutely urge you to do so. Speaking with a Shadeweaver like Amas-Garao is not a job for one person."

 

It was true that in the long term, Amas-Garao had not seemed so much malevolent as simply playing a deeper game than everyone else – but if you didn't know the game or your position in it, well, that could end up being the same thing as being a victim of the game.

 

When they entered the hall, Amas-Garao was standing, studying one of the statues that Steve Franceschetti had installed a while ago – Aryabhatta, the ancient Indian mathematician and astronomer. As always, the Shadeweaver's appearance echoed his voice; clad in dark robes, shadowed and sinister, despite being notably smaller than either Ariane or Simon; Oasis could look the inhuman Shadeweaver in the eyes, if she could see them through the gloom projected within the Shadeweaver's hood.

 

"Ahh, Doctor Sandrisson. A pleasure to see you." The Shadeweaver gave a creditable bow. "And this is Oasis Abrams, I believe?"

 

"Indeed. Oasis, this is Amas-Garao, one of the foremost of the Shadeweavers. Amas-Garao, Oasis Abrams, agent-at-large for Captain Ariane Austin."

 

"A… broad and appropriately obscure title, Agent Abrams," Amas-Garao said, with sardonic amusement. "Interesting." He turned his head, the cowl surveying the room. "As is this entryway. There is much insight to your history here, more than I would have expected."

 

"There are some things we don't mind people knowing," Simon answered. "And I suspect that without the proper context, even you will not draw all the correct conclusions from the data available."

 

"Undoubtedly true. Perhaps your designer is more clever than I thought; whet the curiosity, but make it seem more is revealed than truly can be seen."

 

"But you didn't come here just to look at the statuary and decorations, Amas-Garao."

 

"No. No, indeed. I came because I must fulfill a promise I made to the Captain, quite some time ago."

 

Oh, dear. "Yes?"

 

"Yes." The word was drawn out, a statement of drama or reluctance. "I am here to inform you that the one calling herself Maria-Susanna has become apprenticed to the Shadeweavers."

 

"Good God." He also heard Oasis muffle a curse. "Just now?"

 

"As of a few hours ago, yes. We are determining her exact place and course of instruction, but I had given my word that you would be notified if this came to pass."

 

"You're aware that she's one of the most wanted criminals in the Solar System?" Oasis asked, her voice controlled but tense.

 

"We are aware of that, yes. The acceptance of a new member always comes with risks, Oasis Abrams; the Shadeweavers believe, of course, that we are able to better deal with such risk than others. If she is dangerous and capable… we can work with that."

 

Simon knew, just from the set of Oasis' jaw and the narrowing of her eyes, that she was thinking that the Shadeweavers might be the ones being worked on. And having spoken with Maria-Susanna himself, he was inclined to agree.

 

On the other hand, they had no say in the matter. "Very well, Amas-Garao. I thank you for bringing this matter to our attention promptly. I will inform Captain Austin as soon as she returns, and I am sure she will be grateful for your timely notification."

 

"Give her my warmest regards." Amas-Garao bowed again, turned, and opened the door. Somewhere between stepping through the door and reaching the outside path, he simply faded away.

 

"Oh, that is just all kinds of not-good," Oasis said, as soon as the door had securely closed.

 

"I am sure I don't even begin to appreciate how many kinds," Simon agreed. "I can't reach Ariane, but I think I'd better let DuQuesne know right away." He raised his voice. "DuQuesne!"

 

A green comm-ball winked into existence, shimmered momentarily scarlet, then went green again. "Simon? What's up?"

 

"A… situation. I am not sure I want anyone else to hear it."

 

"Hold on, I can get some privacy in a moment…" The sound of some movement, a door being closed, and the very faint noises of DuQuesne checking for eavesdropping. "Okay, I'm good. What's the problem?"

 

"Maria-Susanna has joined the Shadeweavers."

 

A pause. "Klono's bouncing bronze… dammit! That's a potential worst-case scenario."

 

"Is it, though?" Simon said, thoughtfully. "I mean, the idea of Maria-Susanna as a Shadeweaver is not something to make anyone feel comfortable, but she will have to take time for the training. And then she has to wait for a slot to fill, which means she has to wait until one of the existing Shadweavers steps down. And I don't see Amas-Garao letting her get a slot unless and until he's sure she's not going to be a problem."

 

"I find your faith in Amas-Garao's paranoia and caution touching but possibly naïve. You talked with her, didn't you?"

 

Simon thought back to the one long conversation he had had with Maria-Susanna. He remembered that sensation, which he now knew to be part of his strange Arena-granted abilities, and how it had intervened to somehow insulate him from the impact of a personality unlike any he had previously encountered. "Glamour, in the ancient sense, yes. But surely a Shadeweaver has ways to resist that. It's coming from the same basic source, I would have to assume."

 

"Hmph. Maybe. But you have to think to use it, and she's good – the best – at keeping you from thinking that you need to defend yourself around her, because she is nothing but the nicest person you've ever met."

 

Simon didn't like to argue against DuQuesne, especially in areas the huge Hyperion undoubtedly knew more about than Simon ever would. Still… "My suspicion, Marc, is that 'nicest person' would itself be a flashing warning sign to people like Amas-Garao."

 

"Ha! A definite point. He knows she's a wanted woman, and that generally doesn't fit with 'nice'." The amusement faded from his voice. "Still, he doesn't know Maria-Susanna, and I don't think it would even occur to him to grasp just what she is."

 

"Would she tell him, though?"

 

"I hope to all the gods of space not. The truth about Hyperion isn't something we want spread around."

 

That much none of them would argue about. The general residents of the Arena would be even less able to understand and accept the horrific nature of Hyperion than the average citizen of the Solar System – and in a purely practical sense, no one in the Faction of Humanity wanted anyone in the Arena to have a hint of the nature of that project, since it might possibly point them in the direction of realizing what people like DuQuesne could do if they wanted.

 

Outside of their own Faction, there were exactly three people who knew any of the details of Hyperion…

 

No. There are two.

 

Simon was recalled to the present when DuQuesne's repeated "Simon? Simon, you there?" broke through his momentary train of thought. "I'm sorry, Marc – was distracted by a thought. Probably nothing, but…"

 

"But?"

 

He glanced at Oasis, whose raised eyebrow showed she hadn't had the same thought either. "It occurs to me – because of this conversation – that there was something else very close to unique about Byto Kalan, something that would have made perfect sense to discuss only with you, the Captain, or perhaps Sun Wu Kung."

 

There was an intake of breath on the other end. Then, "Damnation, you're right. Hyperion. He was one of only three outsiders who knew anything about it."

 

"Him, Tunuvun and Selpa'a'At, yes," Oasis said in a tone of revelation. "Orphan and Vindatri might guess some of it – they've heard the name, I think? – but only those two were there when Wu Kung answered their challenge."

 

"And they were enjoined by the Arena itself to be unable to speak of it to others," DuQuesne said slowly. "Which means if they ran into anything that made them even think of Hyperion, the only people they could talk to about it would be us, and specifically the three of us who were there for the discussion." A loud sigh. "Blast. This may have absolutely no bearing on what happened…"

 

"… or it might have everything to do with what happened, yes," Simon finished. "Sorry, Marc; I know this complicates things even more."

 

"No, don't be sorry. It's a damned important point and I'm glad you thought of it. I'm going to hope it has nothing to do with why Byto got killed, but you can be sure I'll be keeping an eye out for that possibility now."

 

"What about Maria-Susanna?" Oasis said. "Returning to the original subject, you know."

 

DuQuesne made a rumbling noise, halfway between a growl and a curse. "I don't think there's much we can do, really. I mean, the Shadeweavers have been warned about her, and they've taken her in. Technically, that puts her out of our jurisdiction. Up to the Captain whether we try to do anything about it." The sound of DuQuesne pacing. "But you also are probably wrong about them having to wait for a slot to open. At least if our theory about how the Shadeweavers and Faith slowly expand their ranks is correct."

 

"How so?"

 

"Crap," Oasis said suddenly. "The Genasi."

 

"On the beam and in the green," DuQuesne said with grim amusement. "We just helped the Genasi become First Emergents. If we're even near right, that means a bunch of new slots became open." He frowned. "We could probably check that if we have Laila nose around the Faith and find out if they've selected an Advocate for the Genasi yet. If they've done any initiations recently, or are getting ready to, we can figure our theory's spot-on, and that means there's a Shadeweaver slot open for Maria-Susanna to step right into."

 

"I would hope they have other candidates ahead of her, as the Faith do," Simon said.

 

"No doubt they do, Simon, but I'll bet my bottom dollar that if anyone can jump the line, it's a Hyperion." A pause. "And speaking of Hyperion problems, Oasis, have you seen anything of Fairchild?"

 

"No. And that bothers me."

 

"Bothers me, too. That man stands out in a crowd, even a crowd of humans. Here, he should be easy to spot as an albino polar bear in a black velvet box. If no one's seen him, it's because he's doing a damn good job of hiding, and he is damn well not doing it anywhere in our Sphere, so he's here somewhere."

 

"Which means," Sandrisson finished, "that either he has more resources here than we would have expected, or he has already allied himself with another Faction – and one that has not felt it appropriate to notify us."

 

"The last bit isn't quite so noteworthy anymore," Oasis said. "Humans can join other factions like any other species, and there's no requirement this be reported. Heck, they probably couldn't report it for all species, given how faction compositions change regularly."

 

"There's some kind of reporting requirement," DuQuesne said, "I remember Ariane discussing it with someone, but the details escape me. But it's probably something like a quarterly transaction report, not a formal notification like we just got about Maria-Susanna. That kind of thing isn't going to happen unless both sides know how important the individual is, and we have definitely not publicized anything about Fairchild."

 

There was a noise in the background. "Hmph. Look, Simon, I've got to get back to what I was doing here. Thanks for the heads-up and that unpleasant but important thought. I'll be counting on you and Oasis to look into the other stuff, along with the Captain once she's back."

 

"You can rely on us, Marc."

 

A chuckle. "I know I can. Thanks, Simon."

 

Simon grimaced as the comm-ball disappeared. "Oasis," he said, with a frown, "how is it that I made a call about one problem and find it developed into three?"

 

Her laughter was the only answer.