home, a new dominion . . .
He saw the colonists, the Humans, saw all their weaknesses and saw how weak they were in the face of the political realities surrounding them . . .
There had been a battle, a gargantuan struggle spread across many thousands of star systems, a savage, resounding clash in which whole worlds and entire sentient species were eradicated as a matter of course . . .
He saw the visual data, the near-complete ruins amid the forest, recognised more of the enemy's work and wondered if it held their deadliest weapon, the one that had defeated the Legion even in the full glory of its might. If so, it could be turned to their advantage ...
Fragmentary memories were being recovered . . . it hard vacuum, a close-quarters grappling struggle with one of the enemy's sentient machines, hooked and edged extensors searching for purchase on each other, then one of his greater tentacles found the jutting edge of. I hull plate, wrenched it aside and thrust a high-energy lance into the vitals . . . the knights of the Legion o f Avatars gathered in a council of war, their millions waiting in curved ranks and arrays within the flickering gloom of a deep, desolate tier of hyper space, all intoning the catechisms of convergence . . . and an old, old memory of his own cyborg-form not long after his transformation, the long, armoured carapace patterned in dark reds and greens, the ten greater, articulated tentacles and the six lesser ones tipped with every kind of effector from tearing chainclaws to delicate manipulators, a magnificent new body which had freed him from the pains of the flesh .. . then a part of him realised that there was no memory of his organic appear am e from before his ascent to biomechanical immortality, nothing except the vague recollection that his chist n cyborg-form was utterly different from his old body . . .
He assessed the Darien situation and the strategic implications of its location as well as the fact that the Humans were dispatching a mission to their lost colony. Then he considered various possible journey routes, but not for himself. With its battered substructures, leaking carapace plates, stuttering main drives, and near-defunct sensor array, his biomachine body might be able to drag itself into orbit but the lengthy voyage to Darien would be too hazardous. He would have to delegate that grave responsibility to lesser agents, three Instruments to carry out the task, each one an abridged simulacrum of his own persona, each one created out of his own neural substrate, each one a small loss, and a small addition to his freight of pain.
10
THEO
Theo hated formal occasions, and since the ambassador's arrival three days ago he'd had to endure five of the damn things, at Sundstrom's insistence. Hammergard's main hospital, the McPhail Memorial, a zeplin yard, a root refinery, a church, and a distillery. Today, Ambassador Horst had been due to spend the morning at Pushkinskog, the Uvovo-tended daughter-forest south of Lake Morwen, but plans had changed overnight and now he was visiting Membrance Vale near Landfall Town, to see the hollow shell of the Hyperion and to pay his respects to the dead. And Sundstrom had asked Theo to attend, in an unofficial capacity. Tonight, a banquet in honour of the ambassadors was due to be held in thi Assembly ballroom, followed by speeches and a ceilidh.
Theo was strolling along the westward road that led from Landfall to the vales of the Tuulikki Hills, which would take a good thirty minutes on foot. The morning sky was bright and clear, the air cold and laced with the odours of growth, ideal weather for walking. Besides, Theo had decided to walk so that he could meet some one on the way, and was pondering once more what Sundstrom had said yesterday. Holger was a few years older than Theo but he considered that they were essentially of the same generation; during the Winter Coup they had been on opposite sides, Sundstrom a Trond councilman who voted
He saw the colonists, the Humans, saw all their weaknesses and saw how weak they were in the face of the political realities surrounding them . . .
There had been a battle, a gargantuan struggle spread across many thousands of star systems, a savage, resounding clash in which whole worlds and entire sentient species were eradicated as a matter of course . . .
He saw the visual data, the near-complete ruins amid the forest, recognised more of the enemy's work and wondered if it held their deadliest weapon, the one that had defeated the Legion even in the full glory of its might. If so, it could be turned to their advantage ...
Fragmentary memories were being recovered . . . it hard vacuum, a close-quarters grappling struggle with one of the enemy's sentient machines, hooked and edged extensors searching for purchase on each other, then one of his greater tentacles found the jutting edge of. I hull plate, wrenched it aside and thrust a high-energy lance into the vitals . . . the knights of the Legion o f Avatars gathered in a council of war, their millions waiting in curved ranks and arrays within the flickering gloom of a deep, desolate tier of hyper space, all intoning the catechisms of convergence . . . and an old, old memory of his own cyborg-form not long after his transformation, the long, armoured carapace patterned in dark reds and greens, the ten greater, articulated tentacles and the six lesser ones tipped with every kind of effector from tearing chainclaws to delicate manipulators, a magnificent new body which had freed him from the pains of the flesh .. . then a part of him realised that there was no memory of his organic appear am e from before his ascent to biomechanical immortality, nothing except the vague recollection that his chist n cyborg-form was utterly different from his old body . . .
He assessed the Darien situation and the strategic implications of its location as well as the fact that the Humans were dispatching a mission to their lost colony. Then he considered various possible journey routes, but not for himself. With its battered substructures, leaking carapace plates, stuttering main drives, and near-defunct sensor array, his biomachine body might be able to drag itself into orbit but the lengthy voyage to Darien would be too hazardous. He would have to delegate that grave responsibility to lesser agents, three Instruments to carry out the task, each one an abridged simulacrum of his own persona, each one created out of his own neural substrate, each one a small loss, and a small addition to his freight of pain.
10
THEO
Theo hated formal occasions, and since the ambassador's arrival three days ago he'd had to endure five of the damn things, at Sundstrom's insistence. Hammergard's main hospital, the McPhail Memorial, a zeplin yard, a root refinery, a church, and a distillery. Today, Ambassador Horst had been due to spend the morning at Pushkinskog, the Uvovo-tended daughter-forest south of Lake Morwen, but plans had changed overnight and now he was visiting Membrance Vale near Landfall Town, to see the hollow shell of the Hyperion and to pay his respects to the dead. And Sundstrom had asked Theo to attend, in an unofficial capacity. Tonight, a banquet in honour of the ambassadors was due to be held in thi Assembly ballroom, followed by speeches and a ceilidh.
Theo was strolling along the westward road that led from Landfall to the vales of the Tuulikki Hills, which would take a good thirty minutes on foot. The morning sky was bright and clear, the air cold and laced with the odours of growth, ideal weather for walking. Besides, Theo had decided to walk so that he could meet some one on the way, and was pondering once more what Sundstrom had said yesterday. Holger was a few years older than Theo but he considered that they were essentially of the same generation; during the Winter Coup they had been on opposite sides, Sundstrom a Trond councilman who voted
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